Horny & Confused

A few weeks ago in a very intellectual & heated debate with a friend about 'Angel Men' (don't ask!), I was asked the seemingly straightforward question, "So, what's your type?"

Now, I'm a girl that gets a lot of crushes but that question had me stumped.  You see these seemingly endless crushes of mine range from the beautiful to the downright freakish!  From Senior Citizens to frankly far too young for me to be contemplating.  The thing is I have no control over the direction of these crushes and no idea what is going to attract me.  It could be a voice, a smile, a cheeky glint in the eye, a personality, sense of humor or damn it, lets be honest, just a hot body.  Sometimes I'm left baffled at my own choices & find it almost impossible to defend these little infatuations when pushed.

My husband despairs at some of my more 'unusual' choices.  For him it's quite straightforward.  Jessica Alba.  There we go, that's his answer and it will continue to be his answer until she starts letting herself go and some new younger version comes along. I'm also reminded daily of his penchant for the the young actress by the lovely pictures that seem to have made a home for themselves on our computer (no, this little infatuation doesn't bother me, I'm far hotter than her*). 

For me however, it's not quite so simple.  Maybe I'm fickle or maybe just wired incorrectly, but just one man isn't going to cut it in my little warped world.  My seemingly endless list of past & present crushes include such randoms as, Geordie Johnson, Djimon Honsou, Jared Leto, Shere Khan, Travis McCoy, Stephen Fry, Lenny Kravitz & Zac Effron.

Having considered 'my type' for several weeks I can now confirm that I am absolutely no closer to solving the mystery of my hormones. 

So take heart men, it doesn't matter if you're a hot rocker, tattooed rapper, elderly national treasure, high school musical star, animated tiger or just an average male because some freak is probably scouring the net ogling your Facebook pic as we speak. 

*This particular portion of the post may contain information that's not entirely accurate.

Don't You Hate It When . . .

Picture the scene -

A quiet little reception, snow patrol playing softly in the background. An attractive man walks in & sits in the chair opposite you. You risk a glance from your paper & your eyes meet momentarily. A flirtatious smile flits across your lips as the music fades. It appears to be reciprocated & you blush gently. You both hold your gaze for a moment longer.

Suddenly, the music comes back on blasting the Divinyls 'I Touch Myself'. You quickly look back to your paper & remind yourself you're happily married anyway.