Gentlmen prefer blondes

This is what the “Vox Populi” states for as long as I can remember. I am not one to generalize, rather to think individually; therefore, the following lines will justify the reasons for the veracity of such statement in my case in particular. This gentleman here DOES prefer blondes!

Not only the “Woman Of My Life” (sometimes referred to as the “Blonde Monster” when I’m on a bad mood, the woman who had an “affair” with me for over three years being that we “played the game” Boyfriend & Girlfriend one week out of that period of time) was blonde but also the happiest Summer of my life (my Summer of love – ’97 FTW!) was spent swimming in a Lithuanian ocean of tall, fair-skinned ladies with hair so naturally blond it would sometimes appear to be white who looked at my dark-brown eyes and light-brown skin as something sexually exotic and appealing. As much as it was the other way around! Oh joy, oh happiness! And even though I spent three weeks of that August actively performing that “fusion of colors” – as if it were a “Benetton” XXX commercial – I still “managed” (sic) to fall in love with a short & dark-skinned… Portuguese lady I met there!
Allow me to quote my favorite singer (Mike Patton aka “Mr. Deepthroat”) on this one: “I am a contradiction with legs”.

Yet… had I never met the “Blonde Monster” (yes, my mood shifted…) or travelled elsewhere that particular Summer, I would still be, definitively, a “Blonde’s Gentleman”. Why? Well…

… when I was a (really!) young boy, I had something close to an epiphany on this subject matter. Back then (the dreadful eighties) there were no more than two TV channels and the offer was scarce to say the least, as any Millennial will understand while gasping in horror trying to picture those dark days. Consequently, every Saturday and Sunday afternoon a “big” movie would be shown and I would watch it. Period.
That particular afternoon the movie was a classic (black and white was a solid hint) and a couple of minutes into the movie my life had forever changed. All because of this actress who, as soon as she appeared on screen, made me feel things never before felt. Her name was Norma Jean, but the world knew her as Marilyn Monroe.
It would be pointless to explain the attributes that caught my eye. Everyone knows. It was her! But the impact on me was greater because she was physically like no other grown-up woman I’d ever seen – so much so that, from that moment on, I realized I was a straight male (before that I had never thought of sex) with a tendency to look up to beautiful feminine faces with a halo of yellow hair.
Would that be enough to be such a game-changer for me? Probably. Nevertheless, MM was not the only one to eternally define my taste in women. There were two “major upgrades” of the “blonde icon”.

In the nineties, Pamela Anderson added lots of silicone, a red swimsuit, S/M like leather clothing, drugs and explicit sex images (NOTE: the sextape of her with her husband Tommy Lee is, in XXX quality terms, very poor as compared to hers with Brett Michaels, Poison’s lead singer – you’re welcome!) to the previously existing “bouquet”. On the first decade of the XXIst century, a naughty Lolita got me paralyzed in front of the screen when I first came across this video clip called “Baby One More Time”. I’m not even exaggerating. Paralyzed. And on the second decade that adorable naughty Lolita (after a transition period full of drugs and madness, but hey – who never…?!) had evolved into… an adorable naughty M.I.L.F. Darwin knew best!
And now that I think of it… all versions of the “muse” are American. I’m a Western boy. All the way!

This is my truth. Don’t tell me yours.

*AND low life scumbags too. We all have feelings…

Sylvester Staline