In the words of Ned Stark: winter is coming. We have packed away our short shorts, frilly vest tops and open-toed sandals, and dragged out the Fair Isle knits, the fleece-lined tights, and the hats are at the ready, for we are now firmly in the breezy grip of autumn, and the diktat from nature is: “LAYER UP.” This is not necessarily a bad thing: think of Halloween, Bonfire Night, and – apologies in advance for calling forth the c-word so early – Christmas.
So. Today’s post is a gentle nudge into the most beautiful season of all. A chance for us to wander through the vibrantly falling leaves in the park, to start planning exciting new stews and bakes, to ponder our ever-shortening time on earth. Also, a chance to look upon man-flesh and store it away for the months of hibernation ahead. Stoke the fire, sit back and enjoy The Friday Pretty!
We open up proceedings with Argentinian model, Maximiliano Patane. Gaze into his eyes (which look nothing like the sea after a storm, but you could say they do), stare at his impossibly glossy hair, imagine running your fingers through his manly but not beast-like sex rug (that’s chest hair, folks – and Mark Ruffalo’s is the cut-off point), and lose yourself in the wiry depths of his beard. Take in the visage, people:
When TFP saw this photograph of Donald Glover, it said – aloud and with no irony- “well damn, Donald. You got it like that?” Oh, but he does. TFP very much enjoys the 70s-style denim jacket and stubble, the super-textured ‘fro, that moisturised-looking skin (‘ash is, uh… wack!’ – needs work) and the pensive, ‘I’m-not-thinking-about-anything-too-serious-just-things-to-make-you-smile-girl’ face. He could get it. He really, really could.
Speaking of chaps who could get it, TFP would like to extend warm congratulations and a cheerful ‘Mazel Tov!’ to Hottie McHotterson aka Jesse Williams, who married his long-term girlfriend earlier this month. We wish them a long and happy marriage. We also wish Jesse remains smokin’, keeping that fine ass of his in good nick for both his wife and us – his adoring, pervy fans. See you at the Golden Anniversary, guys:
Did you know Michael Ealy is thirty-freakin’-nine years old? 39! THIRTY-NINE. You know what? Ealy reminds me of that immortal line uttered by Bette Davis in All About Eve: “Bill’s thirty-two. He looks thirty-two. He looked it five years ago, he’ll look it twenty years from now. I hate men.” Except TFP really likes Michael Ealy. In fact, TFP likes him so much, it wants to open up that red jacket and slip its arms into the arm holes alongside Michael’s, and nuzzle his neck, like a creepy stranger. Only not creepy. Wait, this sext has gone all wrong… Just look at him, FFS:
Finally this week, we stop at the door of a ‘hottie with a body’, Dermot Mulroney. TFP was reminded of its giggling-in-public crush on him a few years back, after shit romcom The Wedding Date came out (remember that? A waste of an excellent cast, and sparkling source book. Ugh.) after seeing him on TV’s New Girl. He also used to be married to Catherine Keener (BAMF) and he looks positively Athena-esque when carrying small humans. And! Remember when he was hot Gavin in Friends? Dedicated perv-blog WOULD ran a pretty excellent post on him here, and TFP can only nod aggressively and say “YES. To all of it.” Essentially, you would hit it like the fist of an angry god, wouldn’t you? PS: lovely lips, innit. Here’s a two for one:
Okay, bugger off. That’s all the perving you’re getting this week. Have a lovely weekend!