If you ask a man what he looks for when he meets a vagina, besides a great sense of humor of course, he will probably suggest many of the same delusional qualities he wants in his total fantasy female package. Easy on the eye, morning, noon, and night; perfumed to perfection; tantalizing to the taste buds; demure blushing rose bud one day; insatiable quivering tigress purring, “Sic ‘em Rex” the next.

Now before you give up on us and go surfing for a re-enforced steel chastity belt on e-Bay, consider the positive. In the real world, we’re just so excited about meeting a new vagina; her physical attributes play second fiddle to her physical presence.

The wonderful truth is, we enjoy that every woman is unique and that we never know what we’ll get. You didn’t really think Forrest was gushing over just any box of chocolates did you? The assortment of innies and outties; bearded and bald; bitter and balmy; juicy, loosey, arid and airtight is part of what makes diving for hidden treasure so exciting. Each man has his personal favorite.

Being a traveler by nature, I love visiting exotic, sultry hideaways, but none more so than Equatorial Vulva (Capital city Clitoria, population 1). After stemming my Downunder enthusiasm for the place (and remembering that, “Crickey, it’s a big one!” isn’t a polite term of greeting in this part of the world), I thought I’d offer a few pondering on lower floor hairstyles, because in recent years you’ve spoilt us naughty boys with so much choice.

Personally, I’m a fan of minimalism when it comes to pubic art. I just feel more confident, comfortable and ravenous if I can see what’s on my plate. It’s not that I won’t eat a side salad, but I love something neatly trimmed, waxed, or with a little garnish for presentation on the specials board. It’s a surefire way to have me offering my compliments to the chef all night.