The world is divided into two: boom men and leg men. Boob men are those who are turned on by boobs and leg men are those who go for long legs and delicious bums.
Now, according the Desmond Morris, large breasts have developed primarily as a form of mimicry: they mimic the buttocks as a sexual signal. Read the link for more details.
Anyway, this means that boob men and leg men might have a bit more in common than previously thought but with the leg men having a slight advantage in not falling for the evolutionary mimicry and going for the original attraction.
I myself find myself firmly a leg man, give me a plump round bum any day over massive sagging mammalaries. According to Morris, the heart shape that decorates all dreadful Valentine cards is really a bum shape. Now in these dark days in barbarous land I am not suggesting any discrimination whatsoever towards misguided boob men. They have every right to their tastes and even committed leg men like me can occasionally be moved to tears by jiggly jugs. Especially when seen on a jogger. Poetry in motion, nothing less. However, no silicon please, under any circumstances.
I vividly recall the moment I realised I was a leg man: It was at the Galle Face Hotel and there was this Negress and she walked out in front of us. I was with two other girls and another male friends and I could not take my eyes off her bum: it moved like a sailing ship at sea or perhaps it was like the breaking of a roller; words fail me and I just focused on that beautiful sight, I did not even turn to nudge my friend (as would usually be the case, to warn him of a good sight ahead), I could not care less about the women with me, I was just mesmerised by that beautiful sight.
All this came back to me the other day at the office when I went looking for someone to be confronted with a round bun in tight trousers (by the way the fashion for leggings and tight trousers does wonders for the average Sri Lankan girl who tends not to have a lot of meat on her) so tight in fact that I could see she was wearing a thong. I almost chocked and nearly fell down but managed to just recover and crawl back to my room to spend a good five minutes in doing deep breathing exercises until my heart rate returned to normal.
Keeping my eagle eyes open I noticed a few more objects that need to be kept under close observation...hmmm I'm rather glad I joined this place.
Now what brought all of this on? I can only blame Soixante Neuf for hopelessly corrupting me.