Sunday was well-spent in the company of ravishing men of all ages and races and having said that, I might as well concretize "well-spent" into something as accurate as "orgasmically devoted." My Ideal Man was dissected into different characters, all but one of which living in my favorite period of all--the Sixties:
Mad Men's Don Draper (Jon Hamm), The Alpha Male, looking so dapper in sharp suits, cancer stick in one hand, whiskey in the other, highly powerful, always in-demand;
Norwegian Wood's Watanabe (Matsuyama Kenichi), The Sensitive Guy who promises you undying love and actually keeps it--in the words of Jollibee crews nationwide, "willing to wait";
A Single Man's Carlos (Jon Kortajarena), The Demigod Disguised as a Dude representing all levels of hotness: chiseled cheekbones, a luscious pout, and hair so gorgeous you'd make love to it in a heartbeat; and
Kenny (Nicholas Hoult) from the same film, The Adventurous Intellectual in a constant quest for freedom, willing to read between whatever lines at any given time;
and Annie Hall's Alvy Singer (Woody Allen), The Witty Comic, who, nevermind his looks (or actually, lack thereof), never failingly amazes to blurt out punchlines at times trespassing the gates of absurdity, racism, anything offensive, without the slightest remorse simply because he makes sense, in all fairness:
Sun is bad for you. Everything our parents said was good is bad. Sun, milk, red meat... college.
Lyndon Johnson is a politician, you know the ethics those guys have. It's like a notch underneath a child molester.
I feel that life is divided into the horrible and the miserable. That's the two categories. The horrible are like, I don't know, terminal cases, you know, and blind people, crippled. I don't know how they get through life. It's amazing to me. And the miserable is everyone else. So you should be thankful that you're miserable, because that's very lucky, to be miserable.
I realized what a terrific person she was, and how much fun it was just knowing her; and I thought of that old joke, y'know, this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, "Doc, my brother's crazy; he thinks he's a chicken." And the doctor says, "Well, why don't you turn him in?" The guy says, "I would, but I need the eggs." Well, I guess that's pretty much now how I feel about relationships; y'know, they're totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and... but I guess we keep goin' through it because most of us... need the eggs.
Just early in the film watching this scene and I already lost it. I'm sure those who took communication courses would (and should, if you're from UP!) appreciate the humor:
Alvy is the cake; Don, the plate; Watanabe, the box; Kenny, the candle; Carlos, of course, the icing. Howboutchu?
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