Man Candy: Valentine’s Edition

I’ve always thought Humphrey Bogart was sexy even though I figure his breath had to be fairly horrible what with the alcohol, bad teeth, and the constant cigarettes.

Apparently Loren Bacall didn’t mind. Whenever I catch her on Turner Classic Movies teaching Bogey how to whistle, I study her face closely for any signs of repulsion or disgust, and I never see any. The heat coming off of the two of them is palpable. It seems the lady loved Bogart, halitosis and all. That’s true love.

The Gums Have It

You might as well know now that I have a serious thing about teeth. Well, really it’s all about the gums. My biggest turn-off is inflamed gums. I believe you can tell a lot about a man from his gums. There’s a lot of medical science coming out about the dangers of gum disease, linking it to everything from heart attacks to premature birth. I’d never willingly kiss a man with bad gums even if he was the otherwise incredibly sexy Humphrey Bogart.

Lies We Believe about Women

Gum disease as a health hazard is a medical fact.

Here’s some fiction: Women aren’t visual creatures.

Channing Tatum, Gerard Butler, Brad Pitt, and Johnny Depp are all proof positive that women could care less what a man looks like, right?

Yeah, right.

Okay, I know I’m not fooling anyone. Especially since I’ve already openly admitted in the past to putting Troy in the DVD a time or two and watching it with the sound turned off. As I see it, who needs inane dialogue between the completely forgettable girly-man Paris and the insipid Helen of Troy to clutter up the mind while gazing at Pitt’s perfect abs? Not moi. I like my perfect abs unfettered, without noisy words to confuse me. This is something Taylor Lautner would be wise to note (although he is way too young for me.)

Heck, who am I kidding? They are all way too young for me. Even the older ones, like Clooney, are too young for me.

I don’t Want Candy

Pondering what I’d write for this post for this month’s Generation Fabulous BlogHop*, I’ve come to the sad conclusion that I’ve crossed some invisible line and suddenly the girl who used to have Man Candy Monday as part of a regular feature on her blog might be too old for celebrity crushes.

Or maybe it’s just a phase of impending oldness I’m feeling lately. Or maybe it’s all these blasted hot flashes that are keeping me awake at night.

Maybe it’s because every celebrity I’ve ever crushed on has ended up being far less than I’d imagined (think Tom Cruise jumping on the couch, or Pitt walking away from his marriage to Jennifer Aniston).

I suppose what I really mean is that these celebrities that have been served up to me are far less the blank sexual ciphers I’ve desired and far more human than I care for. I wanted man candy and what I’ve gotten are man foibles and flaws!

Or maybe I’ve finally reached the maturity necessary that I don’t need or want imaginary boyfriends any more. Yes, I’ll admit that I might still find myself falling for a character in a novel or a movie, but for the actor who plays him? Meh.

Although you’ve got to admit that Bogart and Bacall together are still damned sexy.

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