Kim's Blogs

SEXY UGLY


Let’s get something strait from the get go: women have evolved more than men. And as far as attraction goes, we have the capacity to observe deep inside the soul, rather than gawking at one’s ass or physical attributes. Yes, we have evolved, honey. What other reason would we find Tommy Lee Jones, James Woods, Mick Jagger, and Woody Allen sexy as hell?  It’s about intellect, not biceps; it’s about a man who can fuse a sentence together that is fascinating, worthwhile, stimulating, and causes  us to ponder. 

 It’s about animal attraction radiating from the inside.

Women are turned on by brains. It doesn’t matter a damn if a man looks like Brad Pitt, well, (maybe a little). But if a man is uninformed and indifferent, women will not pursue him further. Unlike most men (not all, so hold your britches on), who would not even consider dating an unattractive woman, even if she were brilliant, but those same men would absolutely, without hesitation, date {go to bed with} a complete idiot whom happens to be gorgeous, blonde, and stacked. And when I say stacked, I’m not insinuating she’s carrying a bag of potatoes.

To survive in Hollywood, men don’t need to be beautiful, thin, or wrinkle free.  Just look at Sean Penn. My god, the sex oozes from this guy, this intellectual, this bad boy (don’t we all adore a bad boy)? But is he what our culture would consider good-looking? No, I don’t think so: his nose is too big, he is 50 yeas old, and his face is not harmoniously correct.  But this bad boy is unbelievably smart, remarkably rebellious, completely compassionate, a humanitarian, and he just won the Academy Award for “Milk” for crying out loud. We love him for that. We want to kiss him for that. Yea, I’m talking, a big fat intense French kiss for that.

Women have progressed.

The female gender observes internal traits, observes the soul.  Remember Marilyn Monroe’s second husband, Arthur Miller? Come on, this guy was unbelievably unattractive, quite thin, and old; old enough to be Monroe’s grandfather. But Monroe didn’t care about Miller’s outer appearance; she was more interested in his brains, discussing Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and Joyce; she was more fascinated by Miller’s writing ability and knowledge than his lack of loveliness. To women, these interior things are sexy, seductive, and irresistible.

A confident man can give a woman an orgasm without touching her. Enter Mick Jagger. Oh, baby. Or should I say we want to have his baby. If we observed Jagger walking down the street, we may turn to our girlfriend and whisper, “Yuk, look at that skinny old man!”  But put that dynamo upon a stage with a microphone, honey, and we begin squirming in our seats.
Jagger knows he could have any woman he wants, not because he’s striking, but because of his self-assurance, his body language, his confidence, and yes, the way he wiggles his bum.  Women recognize this self-assurance immediately.    And we respond.  Yes, we respond big time.

Can you imagine women like Barbra Streisand, Kathy Bates, Meryl Streep, Hilary Clinton, or Nancy Pelosi being referred to as sexy?

  Not in this lifetime. Men consider women such as these a threat, intimidating, and to be quite blunt, Bitches. I’ve heard more than one man declare that Hilary is a big-mouthed, masculine bitch.

 “Why, I ask them… because she has a vagina…because you can’t stand the fact that her brains are five times bigger than your penis?” 

They laugh, assume I am kidding.

  I. Am. Not.

Kathy Bates had a breathtaking scene in “About Schmidt.” Picture it: Jack Nicholson relaxing in a bubbling hot tub alone. And Bates walks up to the tub and asks Nicholson, “Mind if I join you?” Before he has a chance to answer, Bates drops her fluffy towel and hops in. Now, Bates is not a small woman, but she reveals every roll and fold and both beautiful drooping breasts. She was stunning. She was every woman who undresses in the dark, but desires to undress in the light.

You see, most women would not observe a man’s folds and rolls, or be intimidated by his intellect; we stare directly into the eyes…wonder what’s inside; we celebrate his brilliance, want to absorb the knowledge and wisdom into our own brains.

Woody Allen.  What are your first thoughts when you hear this name?  For me, it’s genius, prolific artist, stunning author, a wittiness beyond compare.  Physically, Woody could have been our fifth grade math teacher; the dork standing up at the chalkboard explaining fractions.  He could have been the nerd melting into the metal lockers.

Good thing for Woody that he allowed the world to witness his brimming brilliance, his pure intelligence.  To me, this is the sex before the sex. This is the seduction before the seduction.  Oh, how beautifully the mind connects with the soul.

It comes down to this; women have evolved.

 We can survey the inside of a person {a man}, and it doesn’t matter a flying hoot what his outside looks like: a grin, compassion, intelligence, kindness, eye contact, somebody who laughs at our jokes, the books he reads, and his deep perception.

This is important…This is sexy. 

Sexy ugly works in Hollywood, but only for men. And until society begins grasping that (most) women are refusing to conform to society’s big knockered, bleach blonde ideal, men will remain undeveloped, immature, and ignorant.

 In other words, un-evolved!


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