I feel like a slave to the biological expression. It owns me... Do I believe in free will? I do not know. What nuerological impulses allow my thoughts to say, "I am an ass man?" Why do I watch girls go up the stairs as I sit at the reference desk, waiting for research questions? Why am I so creepy. Yea, I'm that creepy guy at the bottom of the stairs who is watching your ass as you climb to the third floor... only, is it creepy when it fails to be an overtly sexual expression? I merely find the curves of a woman's behind to be aesthetically pleasing... art, if you will. Nature's expression of beauty.