I once had a lecturer at uni, who I had the massive hots for.
He kind of looked like an industrial goth leprechaun. It was the late nineties; we had that sort of thing back then. And even with the leprechaun thing happening, he was still massively sexy. That is how sexy he was.
He had long hair and a little reddish-brown beard and he couldn’t have been more than five foot five (all these things helped with the leprechaun resemblance). One overly warm day, he took off his ever-present big black coat and I spent the rest of the lecture mesmerised by the tight muscles on his arms.
He was actually a terrible lecturer — he would essentially read out what amounted to an extremely dense and complex essay every lecture, with a massive amount of information in it and a million asides, which made it all very hard to follow (in the end I started recording all his lectures and listening to them afterwards in the privacy of my own home, where I could rewind at will).
He was also so terrible at running the actual subject that the tutors were all quite open about how painful he made everything.
I forgave all, however, because the guy not only seriously knew the topic (as hopeless as he was at teaching it), he also basically dripped sex appeal. There was just something about him; he made me weak at the knees. Even if he did look a bit like a leprechaun.
Anyway, my point is, I know what a sexy leprechaun looks like.
And this is not it: