Ass You Like It (as featured in Bling magazine)

Ass You Like It

Unknowingly we are all pygophilists, chasing some tail

By Ella Lauser

Anonym-ass. Isn't that what it really is? The ass lurks behind us for everyone else to enjoy, anonymously and in turn making the owner of the ass anonymous.

As Shakespeare said, "What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."
And the sweet, sweet derrière does indeed not need a name to be known although it has the most nicknames than any other body part. Isn't it funny what a conversation or observation of the "bum" entails.

Why are we so obsessed with this particular asset? The anatomy of love, the anatomy of desire stems from a plethora of understandings- be they biological, sexual, psychological, societal, et cetera. We don't think about it enough yet we acknowledge and appreciate it constantly, the "why?' rarely finds itself among our thoughts.

Our fascination with the body is what keeps us upping the population, in all facets. We are programmed to be appreciative and aware when selecting our mates. There is no shame in the truth of what I like to call "ass appreciation." We are all susceptible to pygophilia- sexual arousal or excitement caused by seeing, playing with or touching the (typically woman's) buttocks. I ask who isn't a pygophilist? The ass serves as a very viable resource of sexual arousal and recreation from a far and otherwise. It is the most noticeable, eye catching feature on the human body for both sexes and it offers itself without recognition. The majority of the animal kingdom has some way of parading around their aesthetically pleasing parts. We just get to choose how we accentuate- be it with a salsa dance or a killer pair of jeans.

Curves denote sexual availability, the ability to procreate, and they are often deemed provocative. The most provocative piece, the booty, has been buttoned up and shielded outside of punishment or intimate affairs for centuries. Shame lies in the baring of the rump as it unabashedly makes us aware of the fact that we are human, part of the animal existence that shits, eats, sleeps and yes, fucks. Oh no, let's hide behind the fact that we are civilized- we are far from dogs in heat and baboons with blushing behinds. Are we really though?

The erotic positions that burn images in our minds are directly linked to certain hot spots and the glorious moon that resides on our backside is just a little out of reach from the "pure purpose" of sex, albeit a friendly cousin. Primates know when it's best to tap their partner because they keep a close eye on the badonka-donk that will indeed swell or lady primates will raise their rumps in salute of desire.

Our imagination is often the most fertile ground we rest upon and it could be argued that the fantasy and mystery of what is seen and not seen leaves a trace behind us. Urges don't live in the mind, they live and prosper elsewhere that's why we rarely ponder where these knee jerk reactions come from- we're not thinking about them, we're just responding. And for the record, all you "tit" men out there- it's argued that tits were made to resemble the butt. Look it up!