ridiculous, yet also kinda punk

ridiculous because: Tom Jones (yes that short welsh dude who has panties thrown at him alot) has had his chest hair (!) insured by Lloyd's of London for 7 million dollars. thats right 7 mill. i wonder what has to happen to his chest hair for him to get the payout. attack by a rabid fan with Nair? going gray? turning green from a combination of dye, tanning stuff, and pool chemicals? an allergic reaction to chest hair plumping product that makes it fall out? what would be considered an act of god, therefore relieving the insurers from having to pay?

kinda punk because: he convinced these people to insure his chest hair. CHEST HAIR! that took some smooth talking and in a way deconstructing the myth of celebrity and rockstardom by exemplifying the utter ridiculousness of their lives, as well as the skewed vision of what is important and their worth. um . . . i kid.

also: who convinced him this would be a good idea? do the really old ladies who still love him really care about his chest hair? would they really stop seeing his shows if he lost all the hair tomorrow? why does he still take his shirt off? were the guys who drew up this policy high? how were they convinced they would make their money back? what is the insurance premium on this policy?