In college, my friends called me Mr. James Bond 007 because I entertained everything: blonds, brunettes, redheads. I'm across the board.
Types really don't matter. I have been accused of preferring blondes. But I have known some mighty attractive redheads, brunettes, and yes, women with grey hair. Age, height, weight haven't anything to do with glamour.
Blonds look angelic, but can (oh, happy!) be fleshy as well.
Blondes have the hottest kisses. Red-heads are fair-to-middling torrid, and brunettes are the frigidest of all. It's something to do with hormones, no doubt.
My first wife was a brunette, and Barbi Benton, my major romantic relationship of the early 1970s, was a brunette. But since the end of my marriage, all of my girlfriends have been blonds.
I brake for brunettes.
I have a thing for brunettes.
Actually I prefer brunettes.
I really like brunettes.
Brunettes are full of electricity.
Brunettes are troublemakers. They're worse than the Jews.
I've built my wardrobe color palette around red, so I'm happy with it, but I do get pangs when I see beautiful brunettes. I've already been blue, green, black, and blonde.
My hair is naturally blond and thin, so I like to give it some texture. Sexy, dirty bedhead is good for blonds.
My type, which I didn't realize until somebody pointed out to me, apparently is brunettes with darker skin tones, but that is about it as far as aesthetically.
My type, which I didnt realize until somebody pointed out to me, apparently is brunettes with darker skin tones, but that is about it as far as aesthetically.
The world believes all blondes are stupid and brunettes are smarter. Well, I disagree.