I think boys are neat. I think interesting boys are neat. I am not the least bit attracted to the typical Holy Trinity of tanned, muscular, and chiseled. I’m more into the pasty, tall and slightly cream-puffed, bearded boy and please oh please let him be at least a little blonde. Typical is uninteresting. When it comes to the ladies I’d go gay for, however, my double standard is embarrassingly revealed. I like ‘em hot. Your standard hot. Zooey Deschanel is totes adorbz for sure, but if I’m going to take the plunge and…well…take the plunge, I expect my ladies to be at least a kangaroo to my opossum on the Marsupial Scale of Hotness, © 2011 (the assumption being, of course, that you find ‘roos hotter than ‘possums).
More importantly, a dude’s personality and level of intelligence and utter disinterest in religion is far more important to me than physical attractiveness. Brains first, body second. Always. Women, not so much. The ladies on this list, however, could have the combined IQ of a bag of glazed doughnuts and I’d still be like, “Yeah, ok.” Does this make me a reverse sexist? Maybe. Do I care? No. Because Gurlz R Dumb.
Case in point:
Scarlett Johansson
One might think what attracts me to her is her bizarre romanto-friendship with Salman Rushdie. Sexy, no doubt. But really it’s the fact that her lips make me think someone stapled hotdogs to her face. And the fact that I wouldn’t feel at all bad about telling her to shut the hell up if she started talking about stupid stuff like her hairstylist or fair trade coffee.
January Jones
But only if she dresses like Betty Draper. Does this mean I want a house wife?
The Redhead from Zombieland
There goes my reverse sexism, rearing its ugly head again, because I feel not at all guilty about not bothering to look this chicks’ name up, so I just Googled “Redhead from Zombieland.” Again, I expect some level of fictionality here, because what I like about her actually stems from my innate desire to sexily fire off a steady stream of shotgun shells at a horde of zombies.
Jessica Alba
Duh. Obvi.
Angelina Jolie
In reality, Angie scares the ever loving shit out of me. She has tattoos I can’t read, a husband I would have been very very pleased to beat the shit out of had I happened to wander into a scene in Fight Club, and way too many fucking babies. Having sex with Angie would be like having sex with a robot you didn’t know was a robot until it bit you and you had to remove its teeth with the Jaws of Life. She is a warrior and an enigma, like Gilgamesh or the Archangel Gabriel. I would probably just spend an entire night playing Marry, Fuck or Kill with her, my rapt attention hanging on her every answer.
Leave a Reply