I mean, what the what?
Is this guy even real? He must be real, 'cause I'm currently looking at him. I see him on True Blood every week, floating across the screen in a haze of too-handsomeness, rippling his abs all over the place as though yeah. My eyes can take it. My loins understand, insanely handsome rippling person.
What's the matter with him, being this handsome? I mean, how selfish can you be, to take other men's quotient of handsomeness? Because he's clearly stole a buttload of goodlooking from other, less fortunate dudes. Like Michael York.
And in all honesty, I don't know what to make of that. Or of him. Science tells me I should fancy him. Or at least, the made-up junk in my head that passes for science tells me I should fancy him. But I'm not sure I do.
Maybe he's just...too handsome? He's so handsome, that romance novel covers are having orgasms, just thinking about him being on them. Flexing his mantitty and scowling moodily at things. In that picture alone, he looks as though the far off heaving bosom of some probably purple dress wearing heroine is giving him extreme constipation. All he needs is a rearing horse behind him, and maybe a sword stabbing into a hill, and perhaps a crashing wave, and he's all set.
And yet I still don't know if my loins want to burn for him.
You confuse me, New Dude Off Of True Blood. You confuse me so much that I can't even remember your name.