Ate some midget gems. Am now comprised entirely of E657594
Watched something then fell asleep with the menu song playing over and over. The Dexter one goes peeeeeyoooooo-yooo. Yoooooo-yooo. Peeeeeeyoooo-yooo. Yoo-yoooo.
Wrote some stuff. Almost destroyed laptop after passing out from exhaustion.
Almost destroyed Kindle. See above.
But I digress about my boring life. Back to this non-story from my head-life.
So, I almost started fancying Paul Schneider back in some year I can't remember. I think it was after watching The Family Stone, because in it he's adorable and just waiting for some girl to notice him and also I think he's a cop*, which is orsum. Everyone knows by now how much I like contrasts, and the contrast between tough cop and sweet guy is almost too much for my vagina to bear.
And yet somehow, I didn't progress into full blown man-lust. Just so we're clear, full-blown man lust occurs when my loins reach critical mass, and the CDC has to come and cordon me off in case I spread to other areas and turn perfectly reasonable women into foaming feral 28 Days Later-a-like creatures who attack at the slightest provocation.
You know, like, when a dude accidentally shows a bit of underpants as he bends down to pick up a ten pence piece.
But I never quite got to that stage, with Paul Schneider. I mean, he has everything I like. Check him out:
Insane eyebrows. Roguish stubble. Very dark. He's not that tall, but he gives the impression of tallness. There's even a slight hint of burly about him, which I love. Plus, he kind of looks like Zachary Quinto:
Only he's really, really heterosexual. Which I feel bad about listing as a plus point, but I can't deny that it's easier to imagine him boffing ladeez than it is Quinto. And that's important to me, because I write mainly about dudes boffing ladeez, as you all know.
But anyhoo, I seem to recall then having another mini-crush on Schneider during the winter of 2009**, after watching The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. In this film, he's this total man-slut (he often plays man-sluts, which is sometimes in his favour and sometimes not) who goes around seducing proper ladies while they're sat on toilets, and he calls himself an innamorato which is just the most sex-busting thing I've ever seen on screen.
He's fully clothed while he says it, and he doesn't even progress to fookin' this woman's brains out (though I have no doubt he could accomplish this task, should he so choose), and yet there is something so completely lustful and sexual about a hot rugged dirty cowboy saying that about himself that I can't even. I can't. Call the CDC.
And yet, I still did not promote Paul Schneider to the status of man-candy. He lasted a week, at most. I idly cast him in a few stories, then took him out. Time passed.
Then BLAM. I watched Parks and Recreation. Suddenly, I had acres and acres of Paul Schneider to run around in. I had hours and hours of him fumbling his way through weird romances and trying to better himself and although he never once calls himself something that I'm used to only hearing the female version of, he still finally got into my stable of man-candies. He's in the harem in my head, probably having a slightly sardonic and fairly miserable time.
While I write stories about a dude who looks a lot like him, seducing chicks with his enraged eyebrows and his strange bottom lip and oh, Paul Schneider. You're my innamorato.
*He's actually not- he's a paramedic. But the point still stands because he's a cop in my vagina.
**Date almost certainly made up.