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artisanal film reviews | by maryann johanson

whom we won’t be female gazing at…

Just an FYI: I’ve gotten a ton of emails suggesting at whom we should be female-gazing, and while I welcome and encourage such suggestions, and will get to many of them eventually, I don’t want anyone to be offended if we never gaze at whomever she specifically suggested. Because my one baseline requirement is that the gazees have to be guys that personally make me want to go to my bunk, or pull a Sally Draper, etc.

And anonymous handsomeness ain’t enough to do that for me. I’ve gotten suggestions of athletes I’ve never heard of who, in the photos also forwarded to me, look appealing enough. But these men are unknown to me. For me, a guy has to be a complete package deal in order to send me to my bunk. He can’t just be good-looking: he’s gotta be smart, talented, and intriguing… or at least present a public persona that convincingly fakes that. (We are, after all, talking about fantasy here, not reality. I’m sure all the guys we’re gazing at would be their own unique kinds of pains in the asses to deal with in reality, as everyone is in their own special ways.)

Then there are the guys about whom I know lots and lots… and that’s why we won’t even be gazing at them. The perfect example is Matthew McConaughey, my disdain for whom I have never hidden. If I knew nothing about him and saw pix like these:

I might go, Hey, who’s that? He’s kinda cute… If I have a type, the blond Nordic demigod is definitely it. But I know who he is, and regardless of what he looks like, this is what springs to mind when the words Matthew McConaughey cross my mind:

*shudder* Thinking about McConaughey makes me feel like I need to be hosed down. And not in a sexy Victoria’s Secret commercial sort of way, either.



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