My Hairy Rambo

My fascination with Sebastien Chabal has officially turned to attraction and I am horrified, HORRIFIED, to learn that I am but one of many. Not only that, he's married with two daughters and most disturbing of all, he's younger than me. He's younger than me!! Does this look like the face of a man 3 years my junior?



No. It doesn't.

So Sebastien is from the south of France (my spiritual home) and I would like to sit on his massive man lap and feed him raw meat while petting his stringy wet hair. Weird? Perhaps.

And,

I love him.

So apparently he was voted the sexiest man of the rugby world cup, his lady fans call themselves Les Chabalistes and have made him the poster child for “the antithesis of metrosexuality”.

It seems we ladies are torn. One day we want sensitive acoustic guitar playing chappies to make love to us and the next we want a Gallic 6ft 3, 117 kilo Hagrid look-alike to throw us over his shoulder and take us back to his cave for the heaviest of all petting. I read that last one straight from my wish book.

My English friend Francis (an acoustic guitar playing sensitive chappie)was delighted by France's defeat adding "Sebastien Chabal clearly didn't eat enough babies that day."

My friend Thanos (not English) said "I second the Sebastien Chabal comment (refering to what Francis wrote on my Facebook wall), I would love to kick him in the back and run like there's no tomorrow."

For men, Sebastien represents the drooling monster from childhood. The one who loiters in your closet or under your bed, waits for you to fall asleep, eats you and then dates your girlfriend.

For me, Sebastien embodies all that is male and the fact that he is French (the superhero of girlfriend snatchers) makes it all the more pungent. He's a double threat - like Whitney Houston's singing and acting career, sans the crack.

Or maybe its just that guys take one look at him and see one big ugly hairy motherfucker. I won't rule it out.

As for my own personal attraction, I'm not quite sure. Initially, I thought he was pushing 40 and reverred him for his resiliance and high calcium consumption. Once that myth was shattered, I noticed him for his refusal to tie up that long stringy hair, despite the fact that it could so easily get ripped out or split ended. Then I noticed his thighs. Then I saw him smile and it was all over.

There's also the fact that he kind of looks like an ugly, shorter, cro-magnon version of the volleyball player who by the way sent me a long long email recently written in such poor run on sentance structure, I had to read it ten times to make sure I dislike him. I miss him though.

Sebastien lives in Cheshire with his two young daughters and his wife Annick (which by the way means "I fuck" in Arabic). Maybe I shall buy a train ticket to wherever Cheshire is and start roaming the countryside where I am sure to spot him running naked in search of squirrel meat.

Or maybe I'll just head into London and watch the rugby final with my sister and friends and pretend to give a shit when England lose.

your fan,

a.