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Forget Uncovered Meat! The problem is the Pie!

Now, look. Forget the nonsense and brouhaha about uncovered meat and the Ayatollah Hi-Lily-Hi-Lily-Hi-lo.

Covered meat! That’s the scent of a woman.

I’m a man and I’ll tell you what, there’s nothing sexy about FFN (full frontal nudity).

Why? Because there’s no secrets! There’s nothing left to discover. There’s no point in the chase. In fact there’s no chase. There’s no slow, sensual uncovering, no exciting, breathless voyage of discovery.

What really gets a man’s blood boiling? What gets him on the chase?

The UNseen! The UNknown! The hint, the glimpse, the promise, the suggestion. The allure of the “unknown but only guessed at”!

You know how the so-called psychologists say the sexiest organ in the body is the brain. The attraction comes from a man’s imaginings, his fantasies

In sexual attraction, less is more.

A man doesn’t want a woman who is giving it away. There is no value in that and no prize worth having. He wants someone who suggests a prize so valuable that he would be willing to sell his soul. He can’t resist. He is helpless. It’s not his fault.

Uncovered meat attracts only flies. Hidden meat attracts the big, powerful, pedigree dogs.

Look at the meat pie. The most eaten meal in Australia. Loved and “wolfed” down by real men all over the country. And there’s almost no meat inside. But it is the promise of meat which makes it so tempting. Or take the Beef Wellington. England’s most popular steak dish. Covered up in sickly pastry. But they can’t get enough of it. Or the carpetbag steak. What’s the secret of that? The hidden oysters! The secret oysters! 

“Sing a Song of Sixpence” - When the pie was opened the birds began to sing and wasn’t that a dainty dish to set before the king!

That’s why head-to-toe curtains are sexier than the miniskirt. What man can walk down the street and pass a woman in a full head to toe covering and not wonder “WHAT LIES BEHIND, WHAT LIES BENEATH? WHAT LIES INSIDE?” What joys, indeed, might be hidden there?

Put them in their houses, behind locked doors, throw away the key, embed the house in a cube of concrete. It doesn’t matter. The more you hide it, the wilder the men will get for it.

They would tear the house down. The temptation is too much. Men cannot be expected to resist a woman who tempts them so. Look at Adam (although I’ll grant you Eve was naked, but Adam didn’t know that because he hadn’t eaten of the apple yet. And she was wearing a strategically-place fig-leaf, so guess what? And she was offering a different kind of apples).

What got Adam evicted from of the Garden of Eden?

Forbidden Fruit! 

He simply could not resist the temptation of the FORBIDDEN fruit. And what fruit could be more forbidden than a woman covered from head to toe in black?

I’m not talking about any particular religious coverings. Because, you know, who has not fantasised about nuns, too. I know I have, from the time I was a little boy at St Peni’s Catholic Primary. But they have never succumbed to my advances. Except in my dreams.

I say, for the sanity of the men of our nation, make all religious coverings illegal!

In fact, for the sake of productivity, to keep men’s minds (and hands) out of their pants:

Legislate compulsory, universal public nudity.

It would change things around here!

Believe Me!