busby1013

gregory peck gregory peck gregory peck GREGORY PECK GREGORY PECK GREGORY PECK
GREGORYPECKGREGORYPECKGREGORYPECKGREGORYPECKGREGORYPECKGREGORYPECKGREGORYPECKGREGORYPECKGREGORYPECK

Sorry, just trying to see if it loses its meaning and/or effect on my ubuli with repetition.

And, NO it doesn't.

OMG PECKSY. Just STAHP being so perfect. In Everything. I See. You In. JAYSUS.






You're in so many things, and so many genres, I am constantly surprised by all the things, especially the westerns and the random ass shite (On the Beach WTF).

The story behind my realizing your absolute hotness is... I saw The Yearling and you wore a dress and that was fab, then I saw that you were in The Omen, which was unexpected, but awesome, then I had personal problems and I fixated on your face and sexy voice and started seeking you out and then there was that 100 anniversary of your birthday programming day on TCM last week and now you're my ideal boyfriend and I just plain need you right now. THANK YOU FOR EXISTING EVER.



PS: and you grew ORCHIDS. We need to get married. I will marry your ghost. I don't care.

I've slowly recently realized that in fact, the gold standard of movie men is Ewan McGregor in Moulin Rouge. He is absolute perfection in every way in this film: handsome as fuck, singing, dancing, crying, laughing, and he keeps his real accent. It's exactly him at his best. Every man since has subconsciously been compared to him. Well, not so much unconsciously anymore, but still. He is the weight by which all others are balanced on the beam that is my fangirl scale.

That is all.

My coz, in all her wisdom last year on our way home from the MOSI Ren Fest, presented me with evidence of how adorable this Merlin show is. I gave it a go--watched one episode. Ten months later, after being reminded to watch it by someone at work, I resumed. This is sorta how it worked with Sherlock--the seed of the love for a show does its impression of the classic frozen delivery boy that gets thawed out after a sufficiently long time and then takes hold.

It did not take long for me to ship the shit out of Merlin and Arthur. I had started the second series at the beginning of this week, and anticipating the inevitable down-time during my three-night stay in Orlando for the ATIA conference, I crammed half a series onto my iPad and duly polished it off last night, but not before harboring an achingly ubuli-twisting urge to jump Colin Morgan yesterday morning--a desire made all the more intolerable because I couldn't act on it.*

These boys will be the death of me before the end of this thing. I know this, even though I've done pretty well staying away from the Merlin tags on tumblr and fan fiction so as to not completely spoilerize my experience. Something incredibly bad and heartbreaking will happen, but I'm already squirting tears on finales, so it doesn't bode well for my tissues.

I REGRET NOTHING.


*This urge was, in due time, acted upon.

Because Martin's face.

FINALLY finished watching the unaired Sherlock pilot (which feels like a Sherlock ep from an even gayer parallel universe) and I ship Johnlock even harder than ever. They are so delicious. I can't believe I ever forget how sexy these two really are together.

That is all.

In order of appearance:

1) Benedict Cumberbatch (Jan 5, a birthday present from the Universe!)
2) Martin Freeman (Apr 6, which really should have been earlier, I know, but whatevs I love him just fine now)
3) Benjamin Walker (June 28)
4) Sir Kenneth Branagh (July 10th, the day I watched Hamlet and fell into utter besottedness beyond any other I can recall in my life, and I have a long boyfriend memory, so that's saying something)
5) Dominic Cooper (Aug 23)
6) Tom Hiddleston (Sept 23)
7) Brandon Fibbs, the lone not-so-fake boyfriend (Oct 5 marks the geeky Facebook marriage date we should not soon forget!)
8) Ben Whishaw (Nov 11)

To be fair, Kenny has truly achieved fake husband status at this point. The criteria for which is 3 or more of the following, as written in my heart, based on the "Convent of Hollywood" experimental RP fangirl blog from several years back:
a) Superlative talent
b) Extended interest held (by the fangirl in question) i.e. more than five months
c) Causing massive SQUEE reactions on a very regular basis
d) Continuing to hold (very lusty) interest even after other boyfriends have popped up
e) being British

Why hasn't Cumberbatch or Freeman achieved this special status, you may ask? Perhaps because Sir Ken's the stud* in the group. In the words of Ulysses Everett McGill: "Pete, it's a fool that looks for logic in the chambers of the human heart."

I have never given a "Man of the year" award since all of them have a special place in my heart, but if I were editing some influential magazine, I'd give it to Cumberbatch, since he is having a PHENOMENAL year, and will have an even MORE phenomenal 2013 as he becomes more prominent in the mainstream as well as continue his awesomeness amongst the fandom-prone sectors of the world.

SQUEE out, my homies.

*Caity's hierarchy:
"Boy:" hot dude under 30
"Man," "Sexpot," "Beefcake," etc.: hot dude between 30 and 50
"Stud:" hot dude over 50

I can't believe it's been over a month since I updated. Well, nothing new has caught my eye, just the same handful of hotness has been keeping me happy for a while now.

Sir Ken (oh, Sir Ken) has been leading the pack with his studliness, but right up beside him now, naturally, is our #1 hobbit, Martin. The amount of ubuli quivering due to The Hobbit is substantial. Also, hot dwarves that make pervy dwarf-on-hobbit action quite understandable. I never before thought the google search for "Thilbo" would be quite so tantalizing. I love people sometimes,

In the meantime, Tom Hiddleston has kind of leveled out. He's still hot, but until something new comes out with his sexy ass in it, he'll be on the back burner. But Ben Whishaw's insanely wonderfully painful performance for the last episode of The Hour has torn my heart to shreds, and I want to hug him forever. I decided long ago that lust for him is fine, gay or no. I'm just not as physically overwhelmed with attraction as much as I was with John Barrowman.

I can't possibly go without mentioning my perennial adoration for Andy Serkis as well. He still impresses me to no end. While that fateful birthday morning Conan interview gave my lady parts a little tingle, I never really took him seriously as a boyfriend. I do very much love him and have a soft squishy place in my heart deep inside for all his hard work and talent and cleverness, but never even gave him a second glance in THAT way. Hmmm. Odd.He is absolutely one of my favorite people.

Well, off to watched Doctor Who!

Ben Whishaw has presented me with quite a conundrum (besides various malapropisms): he's a perfect example of what I'm calling The Undescended Boyfriend, i.e. the dude you've known about and seen for years but never found yourself particularly attracted to (but more often completely mystified by) until he appears in an achingly explicable role that actually kinda turns you on. Mr. Whishaw is a seminal case for me, since I'm usually deeply aware of my ovarian reactions to certain males.


Exhibit #1: The Introduction
Perfume
He was young, waif-like (and still is), frowny, creepy, but deeply sympathetic in his sociopathic quest to distill the essence of human attraction. This movie clings like the titular eau de toilette, and guaranteed to stay with me, even if I didn't remember his face exactly.
Radar: single, faint blip.



Exhibit #2: The Curiosity
The Hour
A weasly, uber-sharp and clever bastard, still a waif, but a bit more grown up and surrounded by bulging-at-the-seams repressed Brits, he fit right in, but didn't enthuse.
Radar: Bigger blip, blinking steadily for the whole 3 episodes I watched a year ago on Netflix.



Exhibit # 3: The Christ Figure
The Hollow Crown: Richard II
Christ figures are never sexy to me (I mean, please, a man who never wants to bang you doesn't really help much). While Ben was incredibly watchable in his wounded, deliriously self-conscious Richard II, he was unfortunate enough to be totally eclipsed by TOM HIDDLESTON and his Hal in the next few episodes of the series.
Radar: Couple blips.


Exhibit #4: The Brow-Raiser
The Tempest
The sylph of a slave-ghost, Ariel appeared to be a realization of Julie Taymor's Shakespeare-induced fever dream, flitting around in wild-haired, nude incarnations, including a rather evil bird-like creature with tits. Tits. Well, boobies.
Radar: Solid red with a label underneath saying "WTF is all this now?"




Exhibit #5: The Shrug
Cloud Atlas
A quiet, gay musical genius in a time period that doesn't quite realize how much they will absolutely worship quiet gay musical geniuses yet. Emo as hell, but fairly normal-looking.
Radar: Couple more blinks, saying "Oh yeah, he's going to be the next Q."



Exhibit #6: The Nerd Throb
Skyfall
Glasses, a tie, a hipster cardigan, and frankly MYTHICAL HAIR proves to be his most benign and banal costume to date, forcing me to imagine he just stepped out of a TARDIS and into close proximity with an EPICALLY hot James Bond.
Radar: Beeping incessantly with overwhelming urge to… hug him. Just hug him.



My heart aches with the beguiling nature of Mr. Whishaw and his bold, unforgettable roles and puzzling sexuality. He's extremely unique-looking, even more so than Cumberbatch, and definitely a few ticks lower on the classically handsome barometer than even Cumberbatch (but fuck classically handsome, anyway, right?). His hair is delicious, though, and just the mercurial aura about his real personality is enough to daydream about. My desire to bone him is vacillating at best. Mostly I just want to hug him at this point. He's so skinny, dammit.

I kinda hope he is gay, or at least leans into a less obvious spectrum of the Kinsey Scale, just for the flavour. Either way, I'm excited to see what he does in this new series of The Hour, which I gave another chance because of him. I like it more now, and this just adds more data evidence to my other theory that unless I'm attracted to someone in a show, I'm not wasting my time watching it. A bit petty, perhaps, but there it is. Life is short. I want to fill my televisual hours with something yummy.

You both wore it best!


Branagh/Hiddles royale sandwich.

Such an existential question, especially for me. I laugh just thinking about the Publix thing. IT IS THE TRUTH.

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/how-florida-are-you/