Sunday, December 2, 2007

The Most Important Issue in the World!




The war in Iraq, the presidential race, the WGA strike, the effect of the Bush administration on liquor prices, all these are important issues I'm told, but let us be frank, People Magazine opened up a can of worms last month which has forced me to confront The Most Important and Controversial Issue on Earth: who is The Sexiest Man Alive?


The controversy erupted when People inexplicably chose Matt Damon for the title. I swear (constantly), the first thought to pop into my turban was "Oh my God! Did Huge Jackman die?" One transcontinental telephone call to Australia later, I was relieved to learn the answer was "No." Bu this raised the unavoidable question, if Huge still lives, how can someone else be The Sexiest Man Alive? The title is deservedly Huge's until he dies, or at the very least, is horribly disfigured.


And really, Matt Damon? Yes, Little Matty is adorable, and is rumored to be able to act as well. In addition, he has an Oscar --- for WRITING! (The peculiar hobbies some people have. You'd never catch me writing! What am I doing right now? I'm dictating. It's entirely different. Just ask Joseph Stalin.) Matt and his co-winner Ben Affleck (A not-unsexy lad himself.) must be the only members of the WGA who actually can leave the lights on when they get laid, and have had sex without having to pay for it. They've even had sex with movie stars; I mean in addition to each other. However, neither really makes my short list of The World's Sexiest Men. And really, as a member of the WGA, shouldn't Matt have refused the award while he is on strike? Take a look at Matt, compared with the actual short list.





There's Huge of course, the True Title Holder, beautiful Brendan Fraser, star of George of the Jungle and Gods and Monsters, the awe-inspiring Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje of LOST and OZ, Hungarian gay porn star Arpad Miklos (Who is available for rent, and I don't mean his videos. You can rent Arpad himself. He's pricey, but he's worth every penny!), and the reigning James Bond, Daniel Craig. Does Little Matt really belong with those gods? He may be the Talented Mister Ripley, but these others are the Talented Misters Ripped Abs.


Being The World's Foremost Authority on Male Pulchritude, I was naturally called upon to check Matt out personally, and take his qualification in hand, if only I could have found it, which ought to eliminate him from consideration altogether right there.





I addressed this controversy briefly in announcing my Studly Hunk of the Month for December, where I chose Brendan Fraser, since Adawale, Arpad, and Daniel have already served, and Huge has served twice. Brendan made my short list of future ex-husbands when I saw George of the Jungle, a fascinating nature film, and Gods & Monsters, which Little Dougle lists among the top ten films of the 1990s. When I investigated his qualification, what I found impressed me deeply, very deeply, and thickly as well. The man is what God would have had in mind when He invented Man, if only He existed, which is why Brendan's Studly Hunk portrait is of him as Adam.




Of course, Matt and Brendan have history together, as the photo below bears witness, albeit a picture from long enough ago that Branden hadn't yet achieved his full, buff perfection. Side by side, you can clearly see why Brendan beat Matt. As it happens, I overheard their conversation at the time, so it's included.





So how can Matt have beaten Brendan for People's misbegotten honor? Is there no justice in the world? Oh, the hunky humanity! Something fishy is at work here.




In the midst of this controversy, another, albeit lesser controversy erupted. The AARP (Association of Attenuated Rotting People), an organization of old people (Yes I know that, at age 110, I am one of the oldest people on earth, but on me the years are undetectable!) selected Larry King as Sexiest Old Guy Alive. No, I'm not kidding. Larry King, the moronic old fart who sits at a desk, his suspenders holding up his truss, pitching soft ball questions to folks who can't get booked on good shows, or are afraid of the penetrating, hardball questions Ellen DeGeneris will toss at them, has been selected Sexiest Old Guy Alive! Again, my immediate response was, "Oh no! Paul Newman and Sir Sean Connery must have died!" Fortunately, that has not happened. (At least as of 1:28 AM, December 3rd, 2007. At their age, that "Alive" status could change at any second.) Look and compare their respective sexiness for yourself.




Okay, none of them are looking their best these days, although Larry is still the clear loser. But let's even the odds a little (Is that mathematically possible?) by comparing them at their peaks.




It's just no contest. Larry has "Loser" tattooed on his forehead. (Under the combover.) And while Paul and Sir Sean seem to be neck-and-neck (and what glorious necks. Don't they make you want to neck?), I have to give the title to Sir Sean.


In fact, Sir Sean just made sex symbol headlines yet again, when a nude painting he posed for half a century ago recently came to light, and is well worth lighting. I must admit to being almost as impressed by the artist as by the model. If I had Sir Sean standing about wearing nothing but a purple mirkin, I'd never be able to concentrate on painting. Panting, yes. Painting, no.





As a gourmand of men, I was called upon, way back around 1950, to judge a male beauty pageant in Scotland where a very young Sir Sean Connery was a contestant. As a modest young man, he was not yet using his title professionally, so as not to have an unfair edge. The only reason he didn't win was because I deducted points from him for shaving his chest. There's nothing wrong with being naturally smooth, but if you're masculine enough to have furry pecs, leave them that way. Only women should shave their chests. God knows, I've been waxing my breasts for years, and the results are well worth it, despite the waxy yellow build-up. Sir Sean learned his lesson however, and has never shaved his chest since, having taken to shaving his head instead, and he really should stop doing that too. It makes him look old.



From early on in Sir Sean's career, a certain rumor concerning his - ah - dimensions has been circulating throughout show business. Let's just say that the number 14 has been mentioned again and again, most often by women with severely bowed legs. At least, I think the number was 14. It's hard to understand what people are saying when they've dislocated their jaws. Milton Berle once said, "Sir Sean makes me feel inadequate." Let's just say that the truth about Sir Sean's legendary endowment is rather hard to swallow, but it's well worth trying.

Not being one to take other people's word about such a vital piece of information, I lured, I mean invited, Sir Sean into my hot tub, strapped on my snorkeling mask, and investigated the matter at hand personally.
In the immortal words of Madeline Kahn, "It's twue! It's twue!" And my jaw healed in just a few days.

Sir Sean is not above a little investigating himself. Here he is perusing my award-dodging autobiography My Lush Life, a mere 37 years before it was published. Sir Sean is an active, energetic man, one who would never put off an important task like reading my book until the last minute. So what's your excuse? This column is finished. You could read it right now.



Cheers darlings.

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