Do Pageants Matter Any More?

Local pageants are better. (Jackson Hooters, 2006)

A few weeks ago, I was watching the 2011 Hooters Swimsuit Pageant (for blog research of course) and I just couldn't get with it. Let me explain what I mean and please keep in mind that this is from a "typical man's perspective:"

Seeing a woman in a bikini isn't that big of a deal any more. Especially when all of them look identical. In this day and age, why even waste time airing a show with women walking a runway in bikinis any more?

When I was growing up in the 80's, pageants were kind of cool. Back then, it was impossible to see a woman in a swimsuit unless you lived on the beach. Now, there is (insert bikini website name here).com to see all of the bikinis that you want. In fact, there are e-mail services that offer 'Bikini of the Day' e-mails to provide you with cleavage to start your day. Is there more to pageants than just swimsuits? Well... I guess there is. But, then again, I was watching the Hooters Pageant and I did tell you that this is a "typical man's perspective."

So, is there so much exposure to flesh on the internet that we're numb to it now? After all, the internet has become a personal body viewing device for those who choose that hobby. Or are there so many pageants that they don't mean anything any more? Hooters, Miss America, Mrs. America, Miss Teen Universe, Miss Universe, Miss World, Miss Hawaiian Tropic, etc.

I mean, I'm watching this pageant of women walking down the runway and it's not a big deal. Nothing new or impressive going on at all. Fake boobs, deep tans and hair weaves galore. There's no individuality any more. Each woman wants to be that big-boobed bronze doll with long hair and it's pretty boring. It's like watching the same woman walk down the aisle in a different outfit. The only time I really take notice is when I see a woman who actually didn't pay for her breasts.

Aside from race or hair color, do they really look different?

And for the love of God, please don't let any of them speak! Who's idea was it to ask a question to someone whose bra size is higher than her IQ? Okay, maybe that's hitting a bit below the belt, but let's be honest, not too many nuclear physicists are deep frying themselves in a tanning bed and then hopping out in four inch heels to solve an equation. I'm just saying.

Now, don't get me wrong. No man is going to turn one of these ladies down, but from the perspective of the pageant, it can't be easy to judge a competition where everyone looks the same. Well, everyone except the girl whose breasts are so far apart that you can place a book between them. I hope she kept the receipt for her surgery.

I guess the point I'm trying to make is: for me, it's been there, done that. It doesn't mean much any more to even want to tune in to one of these pageants unless your internet services are down. Here's another option for women watchers: the Lingerie Football League. It's a win-win! No question/answer session and no watching the same ol' ladies walk down a boring runway. It's football and females! 'Nuff said. There's even a new lingerie basketball league that recently started in L.A. if hoops are your thing.

Touchdown!

Hey, it's about time something replaced these boring pageants. Aside from the Miss Fitness USA pageant, that actually offers something different, there's just not a need to watch pageants any more... unless you can personally guarantee that I'll see something like this.

Hooters and Bikinis (Blog Post #200)

What man doesn't like Hooters? It's a place where you can get halfway decent food and have your ego boosted. Ladies, men love a boost to their ego. Anything that makes a man feel like he's God's gift to women will make him want to come back for more. Hooters is that place. Food, sports, and women in low cut shirts and short-shorts.

Every year, there's a swimsuit competition at the Jackson location. I haven't been in the past few years, but like Mardi Gras, my experiences there have been memorable. Not from hot red heads or some slammin' brunette, but from the people who come to see them.

You should see what comes out of the woodworks for a bikini competition. The lowest scum of the earth will appear whenever skin is exposed!

Okay, so I'm there with two co-workers. This is the 2nd event we've attended, so we're already resigned to the fact that whoever we think looks the best won't win. My co-workers and I prefer "Apple Bottoms," (a lady with a nice, big, round, and juicy one) but, most of the contestants are pretty thin and lack the "forbidden fruit." Despite that, we're pretty happy with the contestants and then we noticed that a guy sitting next to us is pretty happy as well. A little too happy.

This dude is in the mid-to-late 40's and is working the comb over. He has on overalls and has so much stubble on his face that it looks like baby spiders are having a meeting on his cheeks. My co-workers and I agreed to call this guy "Otis" since the name seemed to fit. Every time a young lady walks by his table, he mutters "Good Lord" under his breath and stares at that lady's butt like he's trying to put a spell on it. He's sitting by himself with a bucket of beer and he refuses to blink out of fear that he might miss something. So, contestant #1 comes out and Otis starts rocking back and forth and making these weird grunting noises as if he's trying to communicate to a camel. My co-workers and I, who are standing, slowly slide away from Otis who looks as if his head is about to explode.

Otis almost lost his mind when she came out.

To the other side of us is a table with three guys. All of them have "The Most Interesting Man in the World" vibe going on about them. They whisper when they talk, frequently check their cell phones, and one of them even has his BMW keys on the table so that everyone knows he's riding in luxury. These guys are obviously posers who want some of the ladies to think they're ballin' out of control. They're wearing suits despite the fact that the Mississippi heat in May is hotter than Halle Berry in a skillet.  When a woman walked out, they would barely even look at her as if they were too cool to do so.  I'm thinking to myself, "Dude, why are you here?  Who are you trying to impress because it obviously isn't a lady."

None of the ladies could get those guys' attention.  They were way too cool for that.

So, towards the end of the event, it's started to get hot under the tent despite the sun going down 20 minutes ago. There's one last interesting guy that I spot. There's this tall guy (maybe 6'6" or 6'7") who stands out despite the fact that he's seated. Whenever one of the contestants is eliminated from the competition, he catches their hand as they leave the stage and whispers something to them. I didn't think much of it the first time he did it, but after the sixth or seventh girl it became comical.

Does he really think that he can continue to do this and get a number from one of these ladies? Doesn't he know that they see him doing this to each lady that leaves the stage? Either this guy is stupid or he only dates stupid women. This just goes to show you, ladies: regardless how immature a man's approach is towards you, he only does what works for him. Obviously, this guy has whispered into his fair share of ears with success or I guarantee you that he wouldn't continue to do it.

The eventual winner.  She deserved it.  She brought attitude with the shape.

So, the eventual winner makes her way out to strut her victory lap around the stage. She's a red head that was the attitude to go with a tight, little package. Otis definitely approves because he's rocking so hard in his seat that he's about to take flight. Even one of the posers took his sunglasses off to get a better look. The tall guy was gone at this point, so maybe something he whispered to one of the runner-ups worked out for him.

When it was all said and done, it was an interesting night. Me and my co-workers got to have a guy's night out and I got memories that are now part of a blog post. I have to give those ladies credit. It takes a lot of guts to get on stage in a two-piece in front of so many different types of guys. You don't know if you're advertising yourself for a potential husband, stalker, or sugar daddy. I've always been curious to the type of security provided for these women when they leave work. I'd hate for them to be on their way to their car and they hear grunting coming from Otis some where in the vicinity.

A lot of ladies hate on Hooters Girls. They call them whores, hoochies, or whatever. I just think they're people trying to make a dollar like everyone else in the world. They're not giving lap dances or hand jobs. They're giving out chicken wings and beers while mixing in an occasional bikini once a year.

"What's wrong with that?," asks the man. :)

(The conclusion of the The Real Blogger Shore's Amazing Undercover Idol is coming soon! - To see what the hype is about, go here and get started...)