Because women, I feel, sometimes find it easier to like weird men. As opposed to men, who even when they're weird often prefer babelicious women.
Though there's nothing wrong with that. I can understand why some weird men would like to be surrounded by hot babes. Sometimes I would like to be surrounded by Alexander Skarsgards.
Though the fact that I like Alexander Skarsgard because he is Swedish seems a bit odd, I have to say. Even the handsome men I like, I usually like because there's something weird about them. I prefer George Clooney when he's fat. Billy Zane when he's balding and also kind of fat. I would rather Sam Rockwell have a slight gut and that straggly moustache he sometimes wears, so that he looks like he just fell out of a trailer park somewhere at three o'clock in the morning, with no pants on.
I always like it when my dudes are playing some weirdo.
Of course the epitome of weird-cool at the moment is probably Jemaine Clement:
But maybe he's so weird that I can no longer like him. He's gone all the way around the scale and back into normal again. It would be too generic to surround myself with a gaggle of hims. Maybe if I surrounded myself with Rhys Darbys, who plays the even weirder band manager of Flight of the Conchords:
That would be weird enough?
I'm not sure. But here is another picture of Jemaine looking even weirder than he did in that other pic, to help me make up my mind:
I can definitely see him burning my heroine's name into a lawn somewhere, but leaving the last letter off because he didn't have enough gasoline: Popp.
Yeah, I can see that. I wish I could shake this feeling of helpless nothingness in order to write it. But then, it's even weirder than the other stuff I've written, so what's the use? You do me no favours, weird men. No favours at all.