My gay husband and I are fighting over our tastes in guys, so I am posting my favorites. My guys must have pretty faces as well as bodies. So that means old Hollywood, when guys were not allowed to walk around like unmade beds– even when they played artists. I’ll mix modern day cuties with the classic, so don’t fret contemporary casting directors, you’re doing your jobs.
First up Cary Grant. He aged like a fine tequila and I’m sure even his corpse is charming. Why hasn’t Hollywood given us another guy like him? Hugh Grant was a possible replacement, but his characters changed for the worse after Brigitte Jones and About a Boy. Cary however, stayed a lovely lovely man throughout his career.
Next is Gregory Peck. That man’s voice was chocolate for the ears!
Jimmy Stewart. Tall guys without prison records are so rare. I had one tall friend who told me that his high school coach tired to coerce him and the other tall guys out of intellectual studies and on to playing fields. No wonder there are so few tall intellectuals. Everyone dribbled basketballs throughout high school and then ended up in a life of crime after graduation because they couldn’t get into college and study for a white collar trade! What a phucking waste. At least we had Jimmy Stewart around to give us tall girls with big feet some hope that nice tall intellectuals are out there somewhere.
Most girls like him as Cupid ( shown first), but I prefer his role as Julius Caesar of the much loved and missed Xena series.
WoW! Look at those eyes! They’re green-green-GLORIOUS-green! And what a wonderful determined shape.
Back to old Hollywood:
Gene Kelley. This man had the most beautiful legs in Hollywood. He had a wonderful sunny face with those happy rainbow brows and the most approachable demeanor despite all those muscles. I met him once at Spago at a friend birthday party. I was stupidly rude to him and by turning my head, because I did not know how to behave around celebrities at the time. So many celebrities want to be let alone. However, I think Gene wanted to talk, because he called out to my friends and I as we left our table by exclaiming, “What beautiful girls”. My friends trotted over and politely paid their respects. I was the imbecile to ignored his invitation. He died two years later. I’ll never forgive myself for the way I treated him that night.
Last but certainly not least is my teenage crush, Starscream. He may be evil, but at least he was a scientist, was able to carry a conversation, and fought to be number one or at least hold the rank of a beta male. There were nothing but omega males in my high school in Oakland at the time. My fantasy crush on the Screamer waned when I moved to a better high school in San Francisco where there were worth while guys a plenty around me. Huzzah for those Noe Valley preppies! I’ll leave that for another story:) As of now, I see Screamer as the perfect gay husband.