I love the British. They’ve got those cute little accents and their porn is so odd. But their most endearing trait is their reserve/stiff upper lip combo. And what better example of that uptightness would be bemoaning the return of man-cleavage? Today the UK paper of choice, the Guardian, ran a piece by Jess Cartner-Morley doing just that. “Put it away, boys,” she scolds, in a rant against the renewed popularity of visible manmaries. Cartner-Mosley sniffs: At every turn, bare chests are being thrust into our consciousness. They are there on stage at every music festival, and caught on camera by the paparazzi most nights outside the Ivy. They are tanned and oiled, puffed and paraded.Yeah, so what? I say, bring it. It’s about time we started seeing more naked man-chest. Because I’m unfortunately addicted to gossip rags, I’ve had Pam Anderson’s massive funbags shoved in my face for years now. My eyes are regularly assaulted by Tori Spelling’s boob-job-gone-wrong. Everywhere I look there are tits. Not that I mind gazing at a nice rack, but I’m an equal-opportunity ogler and not since the disco years have so many men been showing so much man-titty. I mean, check out Chuck Bass–I mean, Ed Westwick:It would be cruel to deny the world that delectably furry expanse of chest. Or the entire male cast of “True Blood”–the only show on television where the men are better looking than the women:Meow!Or even pretty Jude Law:Sure, that photo is a couple (cough!) years old and most of the hair on his head has migrated to parts south, but he’s still a cutie.But Jess Cartner-Mosley isn’t having it. “Can we hope that as the nights draw in, this trend will slip away? Personally, I’m more than a little nervous.” Ah, Jess, lighten up, relax and enjoy the boys. Though I will admit you have a point with Simon Cowell. . . . Pass the eye bleach, please.