Stormy, Part II

While writing yesterday's post about Stormy Daniels, one thought which kept running through my mind was, "She sure isn't my type." Statuesque and blonde and buxom just isn't my thing.

But while Google-imaging her for photos to use, I stumbled across this one --

-- and to my surprise, found her attractive. Usually, a woman looks better with a little bit of makeup. But the difference here is that for once, she actually looks like Stephanie Clifford (her real name). In almost all her other pictures, she doesn't quite look like a real woman.

I'm not using that phrase the way feminists use it, with "real woman" = fat woman. I'm using it in the sense that she looks like someone who thinks and acts and behaves -- and more importantly, gets turned on -- like an actual female.

That last part seems particularly important given that she's in a profession where faking passion is part of the job.

(I see more real passion reflected in her expression above than in those phony glamour shots in the previous post.)

Unfortunately, she may even be a bit too passionate, as that photo was taken after her arrest for domestic violence. She evidently hit her husband after she was displeased with the way he had done the laundry, and because of an unpaid bill.

Passion inevitably follows a downhill course: it starts its journey sparked by the things discussed in this post, and ends up being ignited by how the household chores get done.

(On a separate note, what kind of man calls the police after his wife punches him?)

But my larger point here is that whenever a woman is all dolled up to look like a sex object, and seems to expect you to react accordingly, I don't. Implants and a big phony smile always seems to be saying, "Aren't I irresistible?" My automatic reaction is, no, you're not.

I also stumbled across this picture:

And once again, I was surprised by the playfulness (I think) I see in her face, and how that makes her attractive, if you can get past the fake hair and boobs. She even looks intelligent, which is actually sort of a turn on for me. (I know, that makes me sort of an oddball/pervert, but there you have it.)

I made the mistake in my previous life of getting together a few times with women I thought I should be attracted to, but simply wasn't. And that inevitably led to some awkwardness and embarrassment and, on a couple occasions, hurt feelings.

(In retrospect, it was just an incredibly stupid thing for me to do. One thing I found out early on: no matter how hard I try, I can't fake a hard on.)

Give me a mousy little brunette with an IQ of 130+ and no makeup any day.