Now don't get me wrong. I really do like Sandy Bullock. Apparently my dad thinks she's cute and deflected mom's rancor by saying she looks like George Hamilton. Well. Maybe so, but she's still hot. Seems to me that invoking the spectre of some garish person of your own sex would be the eyecandy buzzkill that would toll the deathknell of a serious crush. Then again, dad being a guy and all - who understand how that brain works anyhoo?
Sandra Bullock wins mad props too for marrying a guy who can administer an oil change. Between you and me - effete himbo Hollywood type males are useless.
And when it comes to British men, I find Geoffrey Hughes who plays Onslow on Keeping Up Appearances WAAAAY more attractive than milquetoast Hugh Grant.
I mentioned I turned 40 in October but that wasn't the moment of onset of older sensibilities, actually, although I've yet to succumb to actual decrepitude. The moment for me was probably aged 35, when watching Gladiator and I realized that I thought the hottest man in the cast was actually Oliver Reed, the hard-ball lover of life who played the august Proximo, gladiator slave-trader in the film. Then again, I once heard it said that old age is when you stop looking at the young girls and start looking at their mothers. Uh, right. Well, we know you guys never stop looking at any of us, but in the case of women, the same might be said.
Incidentally, about Oliver Reed, he died during filming of Gladiator, and Ridley Scott spent $3 million to reproduce his likeness for final scenes of the film. From imdb:
He died of a heart attack in a bar after downing three bottles of Captain Morgan's Jamaica rum, eight bottles of German beer, numerous doubles of Famous Grouse whiskey, and beating five much younger Royal Navy sailors at arm-wrestling. His bar bill for that final lunch time totaled 270 Maltese lira, almost £450.
Party on, dude!