I accepted a gauntlet thrown down from several of my sisters in ink today, to post 5 sexy men on facebook. While everyone else chose the stereotypical Playgirl model with six-to-eight-pack abs, in nothing but their skivvies (or the even more risque hand covering the bait and tackle bits), I decided to go a different route.
Mr. Spock was my first crush ever. Seriously. EVER. I fell in love with him watching Star Trek w/my dad when I was a teensy little smart-mouthed, brown braided rugrat curled up on the floor in front of the TV.
Einstein…come on, it’s Einstein. Unconventional. A bit of a rebel. Had to work in a patent office for quite a bit because nobody in the scientific community wanted to hire him. Talk about a beautiful mind…and, believe it or not, the man was a bit of a charmer, dare I say a lady killer in his day.
Neil DeGrasse Tyson. Trust me, I could listen to (and watch) that man talk forever. He’s got the kind of voice that was made for narratives and a truly gorgeous mind. You can see the wheels spinning when he talks, watch him leap from one thought to the next, drawing parallels and working out connections in his head. His “aha” moments and the joy that man finds in science – it’s written all over his face, and that’s an incredible thing to behold.
Two to go now…
Why Anthony Hopkins a la Hannibal Lecter? – Listen, if I were ever to pay a man a million dollars to read my grocery list out loud, it just might be Anthony Hopkins (him, James Earl Jones, or Patrick Stewart). And Anthony, though he’s bright enough on his own, as Hannibal Lecter...well, that kind of warped, super creepy, super intelligent psycho translates to big-time sexy somehow in my head. And you’re just going to have to get over this part, because I am not paying for a therapist.
Read my lips: Mama like fictional serial killers…Mama no like therapy.
And, lastly, there’s Seth MacFarlane…yeah, I could dare you to look at that smile and those dimples, listen to him singing “The Night They Invented Champagne” and tell me he’s not a handsome man to begin with. But you should know me better than that by now, if you’re thinking that’s why I chose him. Face it: The man’s got a big old brain. He’s smart as a whip — when it comes to comedic timing, business, and yes, even science. Plus he’s funny and self-denigrating yet still a little cocky too…there’s no way not to love that about him.
So, boys and girls…in summary: Yes, I know, sex sells like gangbusters, that public thrills are a huge adrenaline rush, and everyone’s all open and happy to flaunt what they’ve got, or what they want, or what they’ve been wishing, for in Hi-Def Technicolor detail these days. So go on about your business, you dirty girl, you. Do it to it. Teeter off in your see-through negligee and stilettos, with a can of whipped cream and that satchel of handcuffs and chains, to enjoy your smoking hot Playgirl Man Meat on the Month. Objectify the hell out of him. Meanwhile I’ll be over here in my Amazing Spiderman tee-shirt, quietly chatting with Neil and Seth. I will not ask them to spank me, nor will I ask if I might be allowed spank either one of them (shocking, I know). —Why not? Because I will be too busy chatting with them about wormholes and one-liners and what went on behind the scenes when they were working on Cosmos in 2014, and probably learning a little something (more likely a lot of something) in the process.