I always found Burt Reynolds to be a fascinating time capsule of attributes people once found attractive. His appeal is a bit confusing to people my age, not so much because he’s hairy (though that is part of it), more that he doesn’t seem to possess any particularly attractive features, other than exuding an unshakeable belief in his own attractiveness. He also looks like he would smell like leather and warm suntan lotion. Everything about him screams “humid.” Nonetheless, we have incontrovertible evidence that women did once find the man attractive. Like, really attractive. BroBible recently dug up a 1972 book, “Hot Line: The Letters I Get And Write,” which consisted of fan letters to Burt Reynolds and his responses. They sound so much like Penthouse Forum letters that I have a hard time believing they’re real. But whether they were written by actual fans or Burt’s publicist only makes them fascinating for different reasons. Here’s a transcript of one:
Dear Burt,
Hi, you sexy hunk of male meat!
I’m 22 years old and 5’4″. My measurements are 36-25-36 but as I’ve learned, it’s not how much you have, it’s how you sling it around.
I really dig everything about you. Your looks, your build, your sexy smile and deep bedroom eyes. And your moustache. Say, Burt, that mustache is a real womb broom.
My personal goals:
1. To meet Burt Reynolds.
2. To meet Burt Reynolds.
3. To meet Burt Reynolds.Yours (any time, any place)
CONNIE L., LINCOLN, NEB.
I read “how you sling it around,” and instantly crapped my pants. Then I changed pants, read “womb broom” and crapped them again. WOMB BROOM!?! I don’t know how cunnilingus worked in the seventies, but it sounds… invasive. And it doesn’t end there. Even the book’s jacket copy is a priceless source of greeeazy seventies slang:

“Burt Reynolds is America’s newest Sex Symbol, star of movies, TV, stage, and Cosmo centerfolds. Passion flower to eager femmes from 8 to 80, he is a virile, witty, gracious, warm, lovable, hotter’n firecrackers hunk of male who likes nothing better than reclining his fabulous fanny on bearskin rugs, rapping with his fans and their endless stream of letters.” [ApeCulture]
Man oh man. I don’t even know what the best part of that is. Virile? Passion flower? The bearskin rugs? The hotter’n firecrackers? No, I think it’s actually the notion that referring to a man’s “fanny” was once considered naughty talk. Here’s more:
- Honest to God, Burt, the thing in the world I’d most like to do is f*ck your brains out. How about it? Horny in Buffalo
- I have your pictures all over my bedroom. At night I go to bed with the lights on just gazing at them. Then I get so excited I do something to myself that makes me so disgusted afterwards. Hot and Bothered in Columbus
- Enclosed is a picture of our daughter, 34 years of age, and her doctor says she’s one in 5000. He says she’s still a “good girl”-if you get what I mean. Proud Mom
- So you hear that mating meow? Guess where it’s coming from. It’s coming from my little pussy. It keeps crying for you all the time. “Burt, I need you” it cries day and night. It’s such a darling little thing, too, so furry and sweet. Prissy L
MOTHER OF GOD. “FURRY AND SWEET.” By the way, I don’t think any guy has ever said, “Ooh, tell me more about this 34-year-old virgin.” And by the way, why is the doctor still examining a 34-year-old’s hymen? And why would he be discussing it with her mother? Why is she one in 5000? Is that the odds of Down Syndrome? You know what, I don’t want to know.
Okay, just a few more, before I have to clean this vomit off my keyboard:



I didn’t realize until reading this that Burt Reynolds is pretty much the rea life Ron Burgundy.
*real.
Reading is fundamental.
Ironic that the Burt Reynolds-look is now primarily associated with gays (i.e. mustache, chest hair, etc..). When he looks into the mirror it must be like looking at Freddie Mercury’s balls.
This is my favoritest thing on the internet ever.
“Honest to God, Burt, the thing in the world I’d most like to do is f*ck your brains out. How about it? Horny in Buffalo” I knew Burt Reynolds was my dad!
Women love it when I crouch down and tell them I’m about to “tidy the place up a bit.”
Don’t get me wrong, Burt’s ok and all,
But it’s that Dom DeLuise that gets me all hot and bothered
Speaking of belly buttons, do you know where a woman’s belly button is located?
They better be in the damn doo-ah of the fakkin’ freezah wheyuh He left them!!!
Eeeeeeewwww to this.
My letters to Ryan Reynolds are way more classy.
Still desperate, though.
I don’t know how cunnilingus worked in the seventies,
It didn’t, but not for lack of trying.
Then I get so excited I do something to myself that makes me so disgusted afterwards. Hot and Bothered in Columbus
Legendary coach Woody Hayes grew more and more unhinged as the 70′s wore on but his penmanship never wavered. Strange that.
I tried to get Vince to share this letter that a female fan sent to him:
“Dearest Vince,
Betcha can’t fit that whole thumb in my chocolate pipe! I’m talkin bout my asshole!
Yours wherever and in whatever hole,
One Ton In Wichita”
“Cause You’re Kinda Cute Like a Frog … and I’d Like to Jump You”
Come on people. You just don’t get dialogue like this from today’s so called stars. No wonder Burt was an automatic panty dropper.
I wonder if Michael Bolton got these kind of letters…
I like the think that Norm MacDonald scored extra with mid-nineties cougars willing to settle for a humourous, gum-chomping facismile of their beloved Burt
Listen, I don’t care how you sling it around, just don’t get it in my hair.
I bet he had crabs in his chest hair.
Sexy talk sure was in its infancy in the 70s. Talking about the deep personal shame you attach to masturbation is pretty great, but ain’t nothin’ sexier than a woman that describes her indoors parts as “a swamp.”
Just because I wanted a lock of his pubic hair doesn’t mean I was gay! It was for my scrap book! Of the seventies! Really!
Man the 70s was truly the golden age of Mustache Rides.
Ahhhh, back when San Jose wasn’t Man Jose…
/Born and raised in San Jose
Ages 8 to 80? That’s going to be one disturbing orgy.
That’s not a womb broom. (*shows hairy knuckles*) These are womb brooms.
Cubby Wubby Womb Broom is Raspberry Leaf Tea.
*hugs self, starts chanting self help phrases
I can only imagine the ‘L’ in ‘CONNIE L’ stands for ‘Lascivious Tart’!