Czech Republic: Beautiful Women or Short Skirts?According to legend, it is said that the Czech Republic has the most beautiful women in the world. But, after a first hand inspection of this legendary tale, I am unsure if the women of Czech Republic are exceptionally beautiful or if they just wear very, very short skirts.I [...]
Czech Republic: Beautiful Women or Short Skirts?
According to legend, it is said that the Czech Republic has the most beautiful women in the world. But, after a first hand inspection of this legendary tale, I am unsure if the women of Czech Republic are exceptionally beautiful or if they just wear very, very short skirts.
I am sure that the flash of the un-cloistered legs of a female stranger and the welcoming anticipation of a surprise “peak” can severely alter a man’s perception of beauty. The skirts of the feminine Czech Republicans put up little obstacle to the imagination. And as I walked down the maidens of Prague, smoking my pipe and enjoying the sunny day, it became overwhelmingly apparent that an enterprising gentleman could easily spot the gingerly hidden in-betweens of many a slimly shrouded young lady, as they sit with legs under-clenched upon the park benches and sidewalk bistros of the capital city.
I am only a slightly enterprising gentleman.
Wade from Vagabond Journey.com
in Olomouc, Moravia, Czech Republic- June 22, 2008
Travelogue — Travel Photos
Short skirt on blond women in the Czech republic waving in the breeze, leaving nothing to be imagined.
But am I peaking in or am I being peaked out at? I must ask this half seriously, as it is a task and a half to walk through a Prague summer day without being eye-spied by a multitude of un-chaperoned pairs of bright whities. I claim absolute innocence in this matter. I am solely a passive street walker strolling by and doing my day. I do not invite the doors which unguardedly open before me.
Though I do find interest in where this all leads.
So do the women of the Czech Republic live up to legend? I cannot tell, as I am wrapped in the thoroughs of simple enchantment. This is the same strain of enchantment that gives rise to the extensive mating rites of the egret, the wolf spider, and even the lowly bannana slug. The great plume of the quetzal exists to enchant – to invite that holy feeling of sexual desire from potential mates. I am no different than any other animal; no different that any other man who walks the cobblestone streets of the Czech Republic. I am not the possessor of any specially contrived moral blanket to fend off the feelings that arise as a well rounded woman walks passed me with bright white legs flashing in the sun shinning day. I am not immune to a bright and feathery plume.
The women of the Czech Republic are beautiful. But beauty is as beauty is presented.
I cannot help but to notice that Czech women take time to make themselves beautiful. They cleverly attire themselves in clothing that accentuates, exaggerates, and discloses their natural attributes of womanliness. They know how to attract men my showing themselves as women.
I understand that women are a special breed of animal, in that the ugliest and squalid, squat, and dopey among them can make themselves into virtual Cinderellas with the slightest effort.
Given this, I am vastly unsure if Czech women are beautiful, or if they just know very well how to make themselves beautiful. Their tactics and visual senses seem so acute that I must assume that it is breed from some old world pool of knowledge. I have seen many women in many countries – this is for sure. And very often these women wear revealing clothing that is meant to show off their bodies. But there is something deficient in their approach: they seem to just be showing the meat straight up on the table, without class nor care. They tend to not dance in the bodies that they show. This is not as attractive, and cannot turn my head. But it seems as if the women in the Czech Republic know how to dance – that they know a special strain of eloquence, movement, and approach that can clench the jaw of a man with only a passing glance.
“Sex begins long before the bedroom,” my mother would tell me while dropping subtle hints of how I could learn to better pleasure a woman. She is correct, not only in her assumption that I need instruction in this matter, but also in the fact that sex begins at first sight.
I must say that women in the Czech Republic have mastered the “first sight.”
Sign board of the short skirts that women really wear. I just saw the other day a lady walking with her underwear hanging our of her too short skirt. I just thought it a little odd, and not very attractive. I have never identified women’s underwear as haveing any particular “hanging” qualities before coming to the Czech republic.
I have bitten my lip on more occasions than I can care to recall as I casually walk through the summer time streets of the Czech Republic. My reactions are normal, male, animal, perfect, and free. My sexual desire is masked and covered with pure and innocent admiration. I look with awe upon these powerful paintings of women as they walk upright with neither pomp nor pretense.
They are beautiful because they make themselves as such. This seems to be very usual here. It seems to me as if Czech society has imbibed itself with the shear confidence of women who do not need a mirror to know that they are beautiful.
Beautiful as in feral.
Beautiful as in animal
Beautiful as intuitive,
Beautiful as in free.
It is normal to be a man and to admire woman.
I am healthy, and I say long live the “plume“ and the art of “first sight.”
Long live the dance of sex, and the passion of enchantment.
Long live good days when being human means that you can also be animal.
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