oooooooooh

While starting entry 2 of BOYS I PROBABLY SHOULDN'T BE ATTRACTED TO: EPISODE FAMOUS ( or BIPSBATEF if you want to make a fun pneumonic word to remember it by, which, let's face it, you did)--wait. Where the eff was i going with this. OH. ha. WHILE starting the entry, I got distracted and fell in love with this lady's handmade purses. So pretty and sweet. I plan on buying at least two. I'll finish up ol' bipsbatef when I wake up. After my oatmeal party.

It started with Axl Rose in 1987. Or you know what--that's a lie; no, it didn't. It started with Scott Howard in 1985. The latter was a real boy who went to pre-school with me. We were engaged and he wore sailor suits and used to run around with Q tips jammed into his ears. The former, though responsible for "November Rain," is insane and hardly an appropriate crush for a six-year old. A sick pattern emerged way back when, and after some serious (not REALLY serious, though) soul searching, I have decided to finally acknowledge it out loud: I have questionable taste in boys. Like, seriously. Over the course of 24 years (starting with the Q tip bandit, remember), I have managed to accumulate an impressive (not REALLY impressive, though) who's who track list of lunatics and dudes my friends meet and rightfully say things like WHY IS HE DRINKING WINE OUT OF A BOWL. I definitely have a type. And you know what? It isn't just limited to real live boys. It extends into the celebrity realm, which is pretty goddamned big, you know, and houses a lot of people who look perfectly normal from a distance. Even there, good sense and judgment is totally lost on me. And honestly, though probably symptomatic of some grave come-to-Jesus speech I need to have at myself, I find the whole thing wildly entertaining. I have decided today (who not) would be a a good time to start talking about it. Here I have assembled a top five list (a la Rob Gordon, who, incidentally, does not qualify for any position whatsoever on the list (bless his neurotic little fictional heart)) of famousish men I have found attractive throughout my life for reasons I don't even want to understand. I will call it BOYS I PROBABLY SHOULDN'T BE ATTRACTED TO: EPISODE FAMOUS


Acknowledgment of the problem is the first step to recovery.

We won't start at the very beginning ( although one time this nun was all, it's a very good place to start). Rather, I'll spend the next five days counting down backward 54321 lift-off style from what I deem the most acceptable to the stuffs that interventions are made of. Aaaaaand the winners are (drumroll, please)...

5. Billie Joe Armstrong looks like a hungover woman who didn't take her makeup off before passing out on the kitchen floor with one hand stuffed into a bag of Funyuns and the other wrapped around a phone. (It's true. And if you do not think it is true, you are wrong. The man is not attractive.) His eyeliner is a smidge to calculated (smudgy in all the right, strategic places), and his silly hair is a little too black for his age ( or for his species) and a pinch too perfectly mussed. This man takes time to look like he doesn't care. And that is a problem in my book. Because I bet he wears MAC makeup. And I'm sure he smells like roses. He's Hot Topic with feet, this guy. And yet, for some reason, I sort of want to make out with his faux-dirty face. It's weird and wrong. Also, his music is shit.