Monday, April 11, 2011

Mancandy Monday: Punk Armie

Look, right. I'm totally allowed to do this. Just because I've already had, like, seventeen Armie Hammer posts, does not mean I cannot have another one under the guise of him being a totally different person.

Because behold!

In the shitty DTV suspense horror trapped in an elevator movie Blackout, he actually does look like a different person! Hoorah, double the fantasies!

And you know I'm having them double fantasies. I mean, God, just look at him:

Just look at how much he seems like he's wearing eyeliner. But you know what? I don't even think it is eyeliner. I think his eyelashes are just so immense and dark they block out all sunlight. You could use them to shade yourself on the beach. In fact, you could just use all of Armie Hammer to shade yourself on the beach, because he's the size of a truck and also he seems very amenable, even when he's playing a disaffected punk type.

Which as you all know, is something I sort of maybe like a little bit. Big solid man? Check. Hairy all over? Check. Willing to do anything like some sort of mad, sexually flexible and over eager puppy? CHECK CHECK CHECK.

Though in truth, none of these things are what I like about punk Armie. Punk Armie is more broody, he's more secretive, he probably has piercings in his knob. Or if not in his knob, than at least in a nipple or two.

And though I rarely think about piercings, when they're on Armie Hammer I find myself thinking about them a lot. I think about the earring he's got in the cartilage of his ear, as Punk Armie, and somehow that's even hotter than the idea of one being in his nipple. I want to bite the piercing in the wrong bit of his ear, and lick it, and pull it, and ask him what the fook he was thinking putting it there.

And then maybe I want to ask him about all the other mysterious things on his body, like the tattoos - because seriously, what better pleasure is there to be had with a punk than exploring all of his markings like a dog looking for fleas on another dog? Like that bit in Lethal Weapon 3 when they share scars, only cool and without that racist woman beating douchebag Mel Gibson.

Punk Armie would never rant about Jewish sugary boobies, or whatever it was Mel said. Punk Armie is glorious and quiet and in my head he's forever saving my heroine from a life of repression and mediocrity.

Which is so the other way around to the things I usually write that I just have to love him more. Next thing you know I'll be writing about him tying my heroine up then spanking her with a paddle, and then where will we be?

Slap bang in the middle of the apocalypse, that's where.

P.S. The single title release of my menage tale, Lust Dazed, is out now from Total-e-Bound: But just to be absolutely clear, it was previously released in the anthology Threefold!

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