Men: Part Two

Okay, so if you recall, Bertha (and I know you don't, having spent yesterday filing your nails into points and disregarding everything about everyone systematically), I did a blog on men and stuff I like about them.

And so now we come to specific men, and why they are made of an entirely new rhyme that does not contain puppy dog's tails and snails. Instead, my rhyme goes like this:

Men are made of worms
Not the real kind, though.
Fizzy worms.
And also chocolate.
They must be, because I want to eat them.
And that's what men are made of.

And okay, it's not a rhyme. But it is one hundred percent true, so shut up.

So, anyway. Specific men. Okay, first up, my all time top five hot dudes no take backs who I'm allowed to sleep with by order of my real husband, should I ever meet them and look like Angelina Jolie while doing the meeting.

1. Scott Cohen. He may be deposed as the Glorious Leader of My Pantslandia soon, however. Because coming up the rear (maybe literally) is:

2. Clive Owen. I will be talking more about Le Owen during next week's Mancandy Monday. Suffice to say, if reality suddenly became fantasy and the world turned on its head, he would be hit by a sexual tornado the likes of which no man has ever seen.

3. Nick Lea. You know. Alex Krycek off the X-Files (remember when he used to run around in the dark, whispering and sweating a lot while Mulder chased him? I wish he'd whisper and sweat all over me). Otherwise known as The Prettiest Man Alive Even Now When He's About 800 Years Old. He probably would sleep with me, he's now so old. My husband is so going to be sorry we made this deal like they did in Friends, when all my fake boyfriends are 97 and I totally get to score with them.

4. Sam Rockwell. You know what I like about Sam Rockwell? He rocks a good moustache. Also, he can dance. His dancing actually sets me ablaze. Plus I almost died recently when watching a clip from his upcoming stupid movie, and the girl's team he's coaching tell him off for calling another girl fat. And then the fumbling confused way he makes up for it in that fumbling confused voice of his! It makes me think he'd be fumbling and confused when I had SEX with his FACE.

5. Ryan Reynolds. Shut up. I liked him when he was skinny, all right. Not just because he now looks like he's made of a truck.

So that's my top five. And I feel they fairly represent what I love about men- certain types of men. I love men who are masculine, who can be rough and tough and strong. But I like it even better when they look like they might...bend. You know, into kinky shapes. They're funny and weird and odd and sometimes starkly vulnerable. They make you believe that they'd read self-help books to honestly better themselves and contain the beast within and get the girl of their dreams, they run around war torn areas in flip-flops and deliver millions of babies while bullets fly, they let other dudes constantly hurl them against things even though they're meant to be Russkie double agents, they dance and look confused and do the willy tuck. They're not afraid to play roles that are usually assigned to women.

They are everything I like about men.