Results tagged “hunks” from Overlooked

Last night, we at Overlooked Headquarters were positively crushed to find out that our beloved Patrick Swayze (or "P.Swayz" as he is affectionately known around these parts) had passed away at the age of 57. Patrick was the first hunk I ever wrote about and clearly holds a special place in my heart.

I am not going to pretend that Dirty Dancing was one of the seminal movies that impacted my childhood and led me down this crazy path (my parents expressly forbade the viewing of such a racy movie). However, the film's soundtrack was on constant rotation in my home, and thus, I was exposed to Patrick's dulcet tones in "She's Like the Wind." It was true love forever after, not just for me, but for all of us.

Patrick Swayze led an extraordinary life and through his acting, singing and dancing (triple threat!), he brought joy to countless fans around the globe. Thanks to him, we gained the courage to never allow ourselves to be cornered. We learned the lasting power of true love. We discovered the joy of an epic wave. And we learned to thank Wong Foo for everything. Patrick truly gave us the time of our lives and we will forever be grateful.

As a tribute, I would like to share my favorite Swayze moment of all time.

At a time like this, it's comforting to think that Patrick and Chris Farley are dancing again up in heaven.

Remember, live every day like it's August 18. And above all, be Swayze to each other.

♥,
lengli

Those who are longtime readers know that as Overlooked's resident hunkologist, I possess a keen and discerning eye for delectable man candy, both topical and vintage. However, this talent is a gift and can sometimes prove unreliable if the inspiration does not strike: hence my bout of writer's block last week. Well, I'm sad to report that the block has persisted, but instead of fighting it, let's embrace it.

This week, I propose that we embark on a new voyage: one of "Faded Glory" Hunks. Specimens who had it all, but for one reason or another, completely lost it and are still waiting to get it back ("But lengli," you interrupt, "Isn't that the case just about every week?" To you I say PIPE DOWN). Our first inductee is none other than early 90s icon and Surreal Life inhabitant Robert Van Winkle, better known to you and me as Vanilla Ice; and our first topic of discourse is:

TEN ITEMS RELATING TO "VANILLA ICE" THAT I WOULD RATHER PURCHASE THAN AN ACTUAL VANILLA ICE CD

10. Virtu Inc.'s Vanilla Ice Pudding

To be honest, I don't really like pudding all that much, but Vanilla Ice's Hot Sex is something that no number of scalding hot showers can cleanse you of. And the puppies on the box! Go to your happy place, lengli.

9. A novelty spilled vanilla ice cream

Which is the bigger joke: Vanilla Ice's Hard to Swallow or this novelty spilled ice cream? Well duh, but I'll still buy the ice cream. Still not convinced? You can also buy one with a chocolate drizzle!

Find the rest of the list after the jump!

Back when I was growing up, even though the neighborhood kids and I possessed hefty imaginations and lilting singing voices, all we had to document our travails were tape recorders and cumbersome video recording equipment. Thus, the only people who ever bore witness to our masterpieces were our parents, and even they were often disinterested.

However, thanks to the current golden age of the internet, true talent no longer is no longer squandered, and certainly not so for Pensacola's epically bespectacled Mark Gormley. These days, all you need to become a bona fide rock legend is some home recording equipment, a green sheet, the movie making software that ships with your computer, and a dream: with these simple items, you're free to create beautiful and expressive videos that can convey your spirit to the world. In my humble opinion, the world is exponentially better for this, and in particular, Gormley's majestic video entitled "Without You".

Remarkable?

Truly.

Against all odds, there is a new man in my life. I cannot believe it's true, but each moment spent with him is like another day in paradise!

I remember the day we first met. I was running late to court, ready to testify for a case involving a crime of passion (it's always important to hear both sides of the story, you know), when all of a sudden, two hearts collided.

Isn't it crazy how strangers like me and my love could just randomly cross paths one day? I was running one way and he was running another. Quick as I knew it, we ran into each other and I was knocked to the ground.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" he spluttered, bewilderment sullying his handsome face and showing me his true colors.

"Is that the least you can do?" I asked with a wink and indicated for him to help me up. He happily obliged, and I could tell by his eyes that he would find a way to my heart no matter what. Even though I was somewhat scared--just who was this angelic creature to whom I was already pledged all of my life?--I remember thinking, "That's just the way it is," and surrendering utterly. Separate lives were thereby linked forever.

After that first encounter, as we said hello, goodbye, he called over his shoulder to me, "Don't lose my number." (Do you remember, darling?) Perish the thought!

Since then, it's been nothing but magic. I just can't stop loving you, Phil Collins. Just can't stop loving you.

Sure, sure, it'd be obvious to say Santa Claus or Hanukkah Harry is the biggest holiday hunk of them all, but that would just be too easy, not to mention an outright and dirty lie. Just because they get all the attention around this time of the year, this hardly qualifies them for this coveted title. That'd be like overlooking Michael Vartan just because Brad Pitt is in way more movies, has preposterous facial hair goals, and has an undead lady friend that pops out children at the speed of that wacko Arkansas Duggar family.

Way back before the Jonas Brothers ever came into being, there was a little TV special called The Year Without a Santa Claus, and the most important brothers in my life were the Miser Brothers: Heat Miser and Snow Miser.

Not only are they singing and dancing machines, but these characters are archetypal bad boys: veritable James Deans reincarnate (if he sang and danced, that is). Sure, they and their unpredictable weather patterns were put on this earth to make your life more complicated, but can you imagine a day without their dulcet tunes and impassioned gazes? A day in which your heart doesn't skip a beat from the sheer thrill of the thought of seeing them? A day in which you can't feel Heat Miser's woollen tufts of hair lightly brushing against your cheek, or Snow Miser's icicle-covered fingers caressing the small of your back (sometimes both at once!)?

Perish the thought! That's no life at all!

But don't take my word for it....

I know it's kind of a jerk move to dangle my new, awesome boyfriend in front of all of you like a carrot in front of a donkey with a beta carotene deficiency, but I just can't keep a love like this a secret. When Chris Dane Owens and I first locked eyes from across the crowded dining room at the Beverly Hills Benihana, I knew that my life would be forever changed, but I had no idea how profound that change would be. I know I've only known him for a week and two days, but to me it seems like nine weeks and five days. The first day seemed like a week and the second day seemed like five days. And the third day seemed like a week again and....

Anyway, where was I? Oh right. I want to spread the joy that Chris Dane Owens has brought me, and so I humbly present a guide on how to make your very own. Consider it an early holiday gift. Of course, he'll only be a fraction of the majesty that is my Chris Dane Owens, but the slightest piece of him is better than none of all, right?

How to Make Your Own Chris Dane Owens:
A Step-By-Step Guide

1. Your Chris Dane Owens needs to feel at home when he's around you. Decorate your home in fantasy art and companion dragons to make sure he's comfortable.

2. Remember, your Chris Dane Owens is nothing without the stunning good looks of my Chris Dane Owens. While this can hardly be truly replicated, you can at the very least construct an elaborate artifice. Platinum blonde hair dye, ruby red lipstick, and a perfect five o' clock shadow are essential items, and unless you're on a budget, splurge on sapphire blue contact lenses. Rrowr!

3. Chainmail. Lots and lots of chainmail. But be sure to shave or wax your Chris Dane Owens' chest so his delicate, milky skin isn't imperiled.

4. Now, some people are not accustomed to bondage gear as daily wear, but trust me, if you want a Chris Dane Owens that is as true to life as the original, pop down to your local red light district and stock up on riding boots and gauntlets. Chris Dane Owens is never as cheery as when he is clad head to toe in soft leather.

5. A broadsword. (The sword is a metaphor.)

Follow these simple steps, and in no time at all, you'll have a Chris Dane Owens of your very own! I just know you'll have many wonderful and fulfilling years together.

(If there are further questions, consult "Shine On Me", a romance fantasy. Your heart will lead you from there.)

A movie review by Kat and an excitable tween (compiled from user comments on the Twilight teaser trailer).

POINT: Incredibly fast, skin cold as ice, immortal, OH and blood-drinking, vampires have been dominating children's nightmares for years. But have no fear that they will no longer haunt us--thanks to the incredibly laughable performance by Robert Pattinson (of the Harry Potter films) in Twilight.

COUNTERPOINT: ru seirous?? this is the best movie i've seen in 2008 *faints* so far :p n its all because of robert pattnson!

POINT: I walked into that theater with no expectations, and came out feeling as though I had just seen a train unavoidably race towards a broken bridge. I was begging and pleading with the movie gods to somehow create any redeemable quality in the movie, but unfortunately there were none--except maybe the scenery.

COUNTERPOINT: OMGGG!!!! ROBERT/EDWARD IS SOOO HOT! stop hating hater! <3 edward!

POINT: Vampires are the oldest, most seductive, most demonic and most terrifying of creatures to walk in our imaginations, and now they have simply been reverted to the level of lusty teenagers who can't figure out how to breathe steadily. Robert Pattinson, who is supposed to be playing Edward Cullen (a beautiful, captivating male specimen in the book), actually plays a teenage boy who put on too much clown makeup before leaving his trailer. While Edward's eyes are supposed to captivate his prey, Pattinson relies too heavily on what he must think are alluring glances. Furthermore, when he opens his mouth, he can't manage to speak correctly.

COUNTERPOINT: he can bite me anyday! omgg! all of thosee who say roberts lame annd stuff are gay and really dont know what girlss wantt. HE IS EFFING PERFECCT. [:

POINT: Not only were the conversations between Isabella (Panic Room's Kristen Stewart) and Edward clipped and awkward (as they are apparently supposed to be falling in love), but they can't manage to be within a foot of each other without quivering. I understand he is a vampire and maybe Stewart was trying to act scared, but seriously, quivering and speaking softly only make her seem like a chihuahua. A character who is falling in love with something that could kill her should probably act more confidently.

COUNTERPOINT: *throws up* What the hell is wrong with you. this movie was amazing stop complaining and saying negative stuff ok??? tHNKS!!!! their perfect together. edward is so hot and i love how he just always wants to protect her. i want a guy like that! i'm gonna go watch it again! all the vampires in this movie are hot too, girls and guys!

POINT: Although Stewart pretty much shakes and shivers through the whole movie, she finally stops when confronting a rival vampire who threatens to kill her mother. When this rival breaks her leg and she is finally bitten, Stewart makes a pretty good effort to die well. Her acting actually seemed convincing as she writhed in pain on the floor.

COUNTERPOINT: you would of shook too if you were next to him i cried and everytime robert pattinsons face came on screen i started hyperventalting! ur just jelous!!

POINT: It was sad to see some plot points conspicuously absent from the film, but even sadder to realize that the only excitement was the hope that Bella might actually die so the movie would end. But instead, a 30 second "epic" battle ensued between Edward and the rival vampire. Frankly, it was pathetic. The muppet vampire show at the end of Forgetting Sarah Marshall was more epic than the entire two hours of Twilight, and we only saw a minute of that.

COUNTERPOINT: it is nothing like forgetting sarah marshal, there is no forgetting in it, and to even compare it with that, youve obviously never read the book or seen the movie

KBAI!!! <3

Joaquin Phoenix of The Village and Ladder 49 fame has recently announced his retirement from the acting world. Oh, what will we do with one less former alcoholic actor in Hollywood (Editor's Note: Depend on Robert Downey Jr.)? Although Joaquin is a great talent and I think I speak for the entire movie industry when I say that he will be missed (Editor's Note: She doesn't), what concerns me is not the fact that he is leaving to pursue a musical career (we all know how that one goes; I'm looking at you Scarlett/Lindsay/Keanu) but rather that with his departure we will instead have to contend with Zac Efron.

For those who have been living in a cave with the Taliban for the last couple of years, Zac Efron is the current Disney poster boy and the star of the previously #1 movie in America, High School Musical 3: Senior Year. The thought of a young generation of movie-goers obsessing over the overacted and thinly-plotted (but somehow not trite) franchise that is High School Musical is scarier than seeing a fully grown and extremely hairy man wearing a diaper and a bonnet while sucking on an enormous pacifier as a Halloween costume on the chilly streets of New York City. You would think that no fully-grown adult male would perform such a disturbing act. You would be wrong.

But really, what I want to know is where in the world has quality educational programming gone? I find it hard to believe that TV execs can't find someone up to the task of substituting for Mr. Rogers, the immovable monolith of children's television. Blue's Clues may have been close, but that mushroom-induced Technicolor dreamscape was, at times, a little creepy. Pee Wee had a shot too, but then he had to go all stuff-shaking in a porn theater.

Mr. Rogers was a legend. He and his neighborhood made me so happy growing up because he was the only white guy I knew who changed his shoes when he went inside his house, something all of my friends perceived as freakishly obsessive and Asian. Other great shows, especially early-era Nickelodeon cartoons like Doug and Hey Arnold! made my childhood. These shows made dinner enjoyable for everyone; we could take endlessly about the seeming scientific impossibility of a football shaped head, or whether Patty really was the mayonnaise (I don't think she was, even after Disney took over).

Compare that to today, when I dread going home because, thanks to my nine-year-old sister, I know that my rice will undoubtedly be served with either the big-eyed future scandal machine Miley Cyrus, or the strangely so-good-looking-he's-prettier-than-most-of-my-girl-friends, Zac Efron. And this is after my list-topping most awkward moment of my life list, when I had to explain to my sister why the show starring Jamie Lynn Spears on Nickelodeon was cancelled. Damn those birds and bees and frisky teenagers.

My summer job working at Borders Bookstores was a horrendous experience, based solely on the fact that I was stuck in the children’s section, which I wouldn’t have minded if more people asked me where the new Mo Willem’s book was and not whether I was already sold out of the Camp Rock sticker book. And imagine how horrified I was to find out that, after selling it to twelve year olds all summer, the Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer contains some very graphic sex scenes (to be clear, I never recommended the books, thank God. I only commented that they seem to be very popular when anyone asked about them—as if that helps my conscience). Plus, you know, undead vampire romances really don't make good literature, but they sure do sell real good.

So here is my plea to Disney and Nickelodeon: please stop obsessing about making money and do your job, which you used to do so well not so many years ago.

And with that, I proclaim Mr. Rogers, Doug Funny, and Arnold our Hunks this Friday. May the three glorious and educational shows rest in peace in TV heaven.

(Editor's Note - If PBS played nothing but Mr. Rogers re-runs from now until the end of time, I don't think anyone would be mad. The marketing practiced by these two children's television networks has transmogrified into a terrifying mashup of sex, pop-culture and bubblegum. It's like a Girl Talk record for children, only in visual form and without being any good. This, ladies and gentleman, is why I won't let my children watch anything but Nova.)

The name is Bond…James Bond.

That’s right, the spy who loves us (or the man who only lived twice, or he who sends his affection from Russia) is back and better than ever! Seeing Daniel Craig in Quantum of Solace all handsome and rugged in a sharp suit, carrying that oh-so-shiny AK-47 in the hot desert is enough to give all the straight women and gay men of the world permanent heat strokes (if you catch my drift). As if we didn’t swoon enough when we saw him spring out of the ocean in those tiny, package emphasizing powder-blue trunks in Casino Royale.

I’ll be the first to admit that I was one of those die hard 007 fans who nearly had a heart attack when the producers first announced that Daniel Craig was to replace Pierce Brosnan. I was a fervent fan of Pierce and was seriously considering boycotting the new film. Craig was too short, too craggy, too... blonde! I kept telling my dad that Pierce’s receding hairline hadn't even reached critical mass yet, trying to justify to myself why another Brosnan Bond flick would be a good idea (See previous blog on Nic Cage).

I was even more horrified when I realized that Craig was the annoying idiot from Lara Croft: Tomb Raider (wonderful career move, Danny). In my eyes, having Craig play Bond isn’t even like having chicken on Thanksgiving (a cardinal sin in its own right)--it's more having ham on Thanksgiving (completely unthinkable). I was fully prepared to go Gandhi on the film and stage a hunger strike until Pierce was reinstated to his rightful role.

However, since I have no impulse control, I buckled like a belt and saw the movie anyway. Craig looked so great in the Casino Royale trailer, all card-playing and parkour-ing, that I literally felt as if new dawn was upon me, a new era of devilishly handsome British secret agents drinking improperly prepared martinis and driving obscenely fuel-inefficient (but so fast!) cars. By the time I walked out of the theater, I was seriously smitten. Not to mention he sounded a lot hunkier with his British accent than with the extremely annoying and nasal American one he sported for Tomb Raider.

Craig made me laugh, he made me cry, he made me feel things I never thought I ever could in a Bond film (that intense, male-only feeling of having one's balls stomped on). Most important of all, he made me confront what I had been denying all of these years--that 007 had been crap ever since Sean Connery left (with the exception of a few Roger Moore films). And don’t even get me started on George Lazenby in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. That movie was so terrible I would rather be tied up Clockwork Orange-style and made to watch Glitter ten times in a row than have to see it again (Editor's Note: A fate I would not wish upon my worst enemy). And that is how Craig became Daniel.

So although Pierce Brosnan will always be in my heart, I have had to move him down a couple notches to make room for Daniel Craig. Sorry Pierce. And thank you Daniel, for transforming James Bond movies into legitimate films again. I will see you on the 14th, with a sham martini. Shaken not stirred. As if you give a damn.

Now, while it's true that Barack Obama was elected president this week, in my mind, there is no bigger event to celebrate right now than our country's Fifth Annual Unofficial Jason Bateman Day.

I originally created Annual Unofficial Jason Bateman Day all the way back in 2004. Arrested Development, known now as one of the best television shows ever, was in its full glory, and 80s heartthrob Jason Bateman had become extremely topical. On that particular day, not only was I watching AD, but while channel surfing during commercials, The Sweetest Thing with Cameron Diaz was also on, a comedy in which Bateman plays the brother of the male lead. Jason Bateman had officially taken over the air waves--and our hearts.

Though die-hard supporters remember him from such cultural milestones as The Hogan Family and Teen Wolf Too, when it comes to loving Jason, there is certainly enough room in here for devotees and bandwagon-jumpers alike. On November 7, 2004, this became my mission and I became dedicated to spreading the Joy of Jason through any means necessary. I have worked tirelessly for this cause: nights, weekends, holidays--all spent designing posters, distributing leaflets, raising funds for cable access informational programs, vandalizing buildings--all for the love and support of Jason and for the good of the American people.

This November 7th is no different. I am just as committed today as I was that fateful day back in '04, and so it is your turn, gentle readers, to feel the warm glow of a Jason Bateman Day well spent. Take a moment today to rent Juno. Bring out your old taped VHS copy of the Menudo Madness episode of Silver Spoons. Do a YouTube search or a Google Image search (or see below for the provided pictures, many courtesy of Jason Bateman Online).

And above all, be good to one another.

For Halloween, we here at Overlooked have compiled a list of the top ten scariest hunks ever. Consider this our gift to you should you still be brainstorming last-minute costumes. The ladies will get one look at you in any of the following costumes, and...well, let's just say that we're not to be held accountable for any injuries incurred from swooning.

10. Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs

That intense stare, that brilliant intellect, and those alluring lip smacks make it easy to see why Sir Anthony Hopkins' portrayal of Hannibal Lecter leaves serial killer groupies weak in the knees (and it's not just because of blood loss, either).

9. Frankenstein's Monster

Boris Karloff in Frankenstein exemplifies the misunderstood monster: behind that pallid skin and those deeply-set eyes lurks a creature looking to connect with others. Could you be his special someone for whom he's searching? (Just watch out for his bride--I hear she's the jealous type.)

8. Dr. Frank N. Furter in the Rocky Horror Picture Show

Tim Curry as Dr. Frank N. Furter was one of my first celebrity crushes (try being 14 and explaining that one to your parents), and the magic lives on to this day. Is it his swagger? His daring choice of lip color? The fact that he has better legs than I do?

See the rest of the list after the jump!

Since it is the glorious day of my birth, I do not want to besmirch this holy day with more sarcastic ranting of idiot males—ahem, I mean, our Hunk Fridays, but rather, I will write of a man about whom I am truly passionate.  Tall, dark and handsome with those oh so shiny thin-rimmed, metal glasses and beautiful wrinkles of laughter and wisdom.  That dashing dark, perfectly-cut power suit that shows off your hard pecs and chiseled biceps.  More handsome than Gandhi, more humble than Mandela, more conservative than O’Reilly (Papa Bear).  My simple, delicate heartbeats turn into incessant pounding every Monday through Thursday night, 11:30 pm.  Yes, Stephen Colbert, it is you.   It has always been you.  And it will always be you and only you.

There is no better time than now, this sacred day of my birth, for us to finally stop these shenanigans once in for all and declare our love for each other.  The only thing dividing our epic love is, no, not your wife, but that wench, Jane Fonda.  How dare she lay her old, flappy, protesting lips on your delicate cherry ones.  How dare she praise your supple, passionate lips, those that should be mine and only mine.  Oh woe is me to know that there is evidence of this heinous indiscretion online for all to see and know that you are still not mine (the May 9, 2007 show).

How could you, Jane Fonda?  HOW COULD YOU?  You already have your fitness empire, your movie tankers with Lindsay Lohan and JLo and even a song dedicated to you and the raunchiness you inspire in Mickey Avalon, aptly titled “Jane Fonda”.  Please, Jane Fonda, go back to your Excessive Machine from Barbarella.

So Stephen, please, end this silliness so the two of us can begin our path together. Once we are united, there truly is nothing that can stop our love.

(Cue The Supremes’ “There’s No Stopping Us Now”)

Since we have been talking about our action hero hunks, I decided it was time to talk about the REAL hunks of the world. These guys aren't fighters, they don't pretend to be tough, they are not insecure with their feelings, and they are certainly comfortable with who they are. Believe me, these are the types of men women are seeking. We want hunks who are lovable, soft in all the right places, and can (of course) feel like a man when wearing pink. There isn't anything quite like seeing a man in pink. For me, they just seem secure, and OH so hunky, so I thought I would write a tribute to all those hunks we women love.

Just look at this guy. No woman can resist him. Piglet is the ultimate in soft and cuddly, and without him, our childhoods would not have been the same. Is he a hunk? OF COURSE! Why? Although he stutters, and can't always get his thoughts out at once, he's willing to be there for his friends, no matter what. Way to go, Piglet, we love you!

Sure, maybe Beaker isn't the best at his job, but who cares? His voice is just music to our ears. And really, no woman can resist a man they think they can fix, or who has fluffy pink skin. Beaker is a disaster waiting to happen, so we are there, ready to put (or sew) him back together as many times as his boss will pull him apart.

While Beaker is somewhat of a needy hunk, some of us just want an independent energy source: a hunk who can take care of himself and his significant other. We want a hunk who can keep going and going and going. Someone we can count on. And really, the flip flops don't hurt (in this case).

If you really want to know what women want, in addition to being cuddled, feeling needed and not being able to get enough of those cute ears, it's a mystery. A man who is a mystery, is a puzzle for us to solve. We know you are secure wearing pink, but we want to know why. We want to know what makes you tick? What makes you the man you are today? So be like this cutie, the Pink Panther, and you can't go wrong getting to a girl's heart!

There is nothing more amazing for me, as a writer, than someone whose glory and prowess are so astounding that he or she inspires fan art. What is fan art, you ask? Shame on you! Before we go any further, I feel compelled to make you understand this highest of high art. Behold.

Drew Barrymore	Elijah Wood

So serious, you guys. Fan art, just like it sounds, is when a truly devoted person lovingly crafts a portrait of his or her favorite star. And the best part? THESE PHOTOS ARE POSTED ON THE INTERNET. FOR PEOPLE LIKE ME TO ENJOY.

And so, I would like to share my all-time favorite fan-created artwork for today's Hunk Friday post. To get us into the spirit, let's read a few fan letters (taken from here) to our subject--this way, we can all bask in the glow that these artists experience every day of their lives.

Hey Danny, my Name is Rainer.
I find your so Beautyful.
My Series is "Wer ist hier der Boss", this is the german titel from the Series. I have i'm in you everyone in love.
I love You
dear Rainer
P. S. keep my a massage please
-Germans dont just love David Hasselhoff.

One last thing, there is a gay guy in Wichita who kind of looks like you. His name is Tony(no, not Danza,) but blondish and the same facial features that you possess.
-A fan from Wichita, Kansas

Feeling all toasty and loving? Now for the prize.

May this image of Who's the Boss's Danny Pintauro fortify and you restore you all holiday weekend long.

I just can’t put my finger on it. What makes Steven Seagal so alluring? Is it his ponytail? His frownies? His Asian eyes? Maybe the fact that he is a singer-songwriter? (I’m not joking.) No, as tempting as his chocolately-deep, velvety voice is, that isn’t what warms the cockles of my heart when I think of him.

Wait, could it be? Yes, I think it is!

It’s because he’s a reincarnated Tibetan Buddhist master! Oh Steven, only you could look that handsome in those muted yellow and red robes. But we are getting too far ahead of ourselves; Steven Seagal was awesome even before his close friend and spiritual master Penor Rinpoche declared him a reincarnated Buddhist master.

As the first white man to open his own Aikido dojo in Japan, he was already famous but after coming back from a 15-year hiatus in Japan, he became a legend. With films such as Above the Law, and Under Siege (I and II), Steven has proven himself not only a great writer and producer, but also an amazing action star with a hairstyle that rivals Nicolas Cage’s dangerously banging locks. Roger Ebert even praises our Steven, saying, “He [Steven] isn’t just a hunk”--even Ebert wants a piece of our Steven!

Clearly, Steven’s ponytail has vicariously proven to be his source of power and resonance, but that is another story. Steven’s blockbusters are not the only projects he has to his credit. He is also a massively accomplished singer-songwriter, releasing albums such as Songs from the Crystal Cave and Mojo Priest and penning such hits as the bluesy Talk To My Ass and the poppish Girl It’s Alright (complete with a music video set in Thailand about him marrying a Thai girl an eighth his age). Hey, even a big action star like Steven needs to fantasize about meeting the love of his life, especially if the first three ended with divorce (they didn’t deserve him). On Songs from the Crystal Cage, he even collaborated with another legend, Stevie Wonder, on My God, which features insightful lines like:

Let's start another holy war
I'll show you what I’m killing for
My God is better than your God
My God is bigger than yours

Well, obviously Osama is a big fan of Steven’s music.

Much of the Seag's music is heavily influenced by his belief in Buddhism, which leads me to Steven being pronounced a reincarnation of a Tibetan Buddhist Master.

For a long time, Steven studied Buddhism under the Master Penor Rinpoche, but it wasn’t until 1997 that the Master realized that his student was himself a Master. You might wonder, how can an action star who so shamelessly promotes violence in his films be a Buddhist master? Well, all you haters out there need to understand that it's just entertainment, okay? And you know what? We Buddhists invented kicking ass so you best be steppin’, GIRLFRIEND. Or Steven might have to get all karate up in here—or whatever that thing he does is called.

You know how sometimes you're enamored of a particular celebrity not because you are a genuine fan, but because you like something that he or she did, or you admire his or her attitude/personal style? I suppose that these feelings would best be expressed in the words of the infamous Hansel, played by Owen Wilson (by the way, what the heck is this item of Owen Wilson paraphernalia???) in Zoolander:

Sting. Sting would be another person who's a hero. The music he's created over the years, I don't really listen to it, but the fact that he's making it, I respect that.

Perfectly reasonable. I mean, I don't especially like Gwen Stefani (don't get me started on her reticence to be labeled as a feminist (because no one will ever define it for her!) or her poor pronunciation of "Harajuku"--from someone who is, by her own admission no less, apparently obsessed with the street culture), but I admire her bold red lipstick choices.

However, there is an even more extreme subset of celebrities whom I do not like at all, but with whom I do feel some sort of kinship specifically because of how they are portrayed in pop culture parodies. For example, like 66% of polled Americans, I am no Dubya fan. Yet because of the 2001 Trey Parker and Matt Stone TV series called That's My Bush (search unintentionally NSFW until the fix I just made goes through, sorry!), there is a part of me that imagines that crap like this is actually what goes on in the White House, and this makes the current administration the teeniest, tiniest (etc.) bit more bearable.

Such is the case for today's hunk choice. I find David Blaine tedious and ridiculous, a poor man's version of Arrested Development's G.O.B. Bluth. This Dive of Death business? I just got word from Cathy, one of our writers (keep an eye out for her!) that throughout the entire stunt, he took breaks every hour to walk upright and use the bathroom. Lame, lame, lame. I live in New York and I don't know even one person who walked by to see: this is the height of our derision.

Oh, and also?

Ew, David Blaine, ew.

However. However. Have you ever seen the sheer brilliance that is David Blaine Street Magic: The YouTube Edition (NSFW unless you have headphones)? Just as I imagine George Bush to behave as he does on That's My Bush, I long to live in a world where David Blaine accosts private citizens on the street, torments them into whiny submission, and MAKES THIS FACIAL EXPRESSION OVER AND OVER.

So if you're reading this, David Blaine, take a memo. This is what your public craves, not some stupid death-defying (??) stunt. This. Make the face and make people whine. Then maybe you can be a true Hunk Friday. Think it over.

   

There have been numerous times when I’ve been ashamed of my Thai heritage (in the 7th grade somebody asked me if it was weird for me to be riding a bus to school instead of a water buffalo). There have been even more times when I’ve been disgusted with the fact I am an American (watching George W. Bush win the presidential election—twice). But I never thought I would be ashamed of being Thai and American at the same time. That is, until last week after finding out Nicolas Cage’s new movie BANGKOK DANGEROUS was the #1 movie in the US.

Now I’ll ignore the fact that Nicolas Cage has been playing the same role (a caricature of himself) for the last two decades, was married to Lisa Marie Presley and is now married to a Korean a tenth his age and size because he knocked her up (Editor's note: Let's not forget that he named his son KAL-EL) but, seriously, Bangkok Dangerous?  Why is it that any movie or book that includes Bangkok or Thailand has to automatically involve drugs, hookers and guns?  I mean, as flattering as the rough 'n tumble, rock 'n’ roll lifestyle is, it's most definitely not for everyone.  This, however, isn’t even the real problem.

The real problem lies in Nicolas Cage’s hair.

Yes, that’s what I said - his hair.

When I was ten, I asked my dad why there were so many different actors playing James Bond. Why couldn’t they just stick with one?  He told me it was because they had to get a new actor when the current one was starting to go bald.  James Bond can’t be bald, you see? "No action hero can be a hero with a receding hairline," he said.

I guess Nicolas Cage never got the memo.

Nicolas Cage’s hair is a fashion atrocity.  It’s a mullet—an old man’s mullet, considering he doesn’t have anything in the front anymore.  Forget enacting new laws against the paparazzi, there should be one against balding men growing out the rest of their hair, especially Nicolas Cage.  Why can’t he take a hint from Bruce Willis and just shave it?  Now there’s a classy guy who also knows when to let go of his mop and still be totally kickass.  I would have let it slide if it was the first offense but unfortunately, this isn’t the case.  Let's get in the time machine and go back a decade when a little movie called Con Air was released.

And there it is again.  The hair’s awfulness can be even more enhanced if you imagine Trisha Yearwood singing, “How Do I Live” in the background (it being the movie's theme song, and all).

Well Nic, I’m sure uncle Francis and cousin Sophia would be proud.

Author's Note: Thank you to Ian and Kat for editing my raging Asian tirade.

PS- I didn't want to do this, but I just had to.  This picture is priceless.

Oh so foxy!

Editor's note (NOT lengli--let's be explicitly clear on that, thanks. ♥, lengli, who despises Nic Cage with every fiber of her being): Let's not be too mean, now; Nicolas Cage has been in a few good films (although they make up a dismally low percentage of his filmography). Raising Arizona, Rumble Fish and Wild at Heart are all pretty spectacular, at least, if you like good movies. If you like popcorn, there's always The Rock, Con Air and... ahem... Gone in 60 Seconds?

Oh, who am I kidding. That is a terrible movie, even if it does have Angelina Jolie straddling a stick shift.

Hey y'all! Hunk Friday will return next week after a brief respite. I'm on holiday to Canada to visit Cindy, where rest assured, we'll be writing about hunks enough to last a lifetime!

Just to tickle your fancy, here's a taste of what's to come:

His hands may be dirty, but his heart is pure!

In light of this weekend's Republican National Convention, we almost chose the devilishly handsome John McCain for this week's Hunk Friday. Fate intervened, however, bringing before our gaze the hunky visage of Emilio Estevez.

Brat Pack leader, son of the legendary Ramon Heraldo Antonio Estevez and the notoriously inept Carlos Irwin Estevez--also known as Martin and Charlie Sheen--Emilio captured the 80s teen market with devilish good looks and ability to sport a high Letterman's jacket with flair.

Emilio's glory days have long since ended with the close of the 80s and the dissolution of the Brat Pack. Our main man has moved on to much more serious projects, such as the Mighty Ducks trilogy and Paula Abdul.

Yes, friends. He married her. I don't think we need to ask why it didn't last.

Despite fantastic performances in The Outsiders, The Breakfast Club and St. Elmo's Fire, his acting career fell into a slump in the early 90s. Unable to capitalize on his former success like friends and co-stars Anthony Michael Hall, Molly Ringwald and Robert Downey Jr., Emilio turned to the other side of the camera to direct The War at Home, Men at Work and several episodes of CSI. But none could compare to 2006's Bobby, the insanely inspiring and achingly heartfelt film about Bobby Kennedy. Emilio, we salute you, no matter how fat you've gotten.

Ed. note: A big ShopWiki welcome to Darin and Ian, our newest additions to the crew!

So this Hunk Friday choice (better late than never, eh??) is actually quite controversial for me. On one hand:

It's Uncle Jesse! Look at that hair! And nobody can sing "Michelle Smiling" like this man. NOBODY.

On the other hand:

And that's not even the half of it. Not only does John Stamos look all strange and sound all funny with his new veneers, as evidenced at Bob Saget's Roast on Comedy Central, but he was quoted in the now-defunct Jane Magazine a few years back as saying this:

I was on the road years ago, I think it was before the Beach Boys [John played drums with the band in the mid-'80s]. I was playing somewhere in Finland, and there was a girl hanging around who was really drunk and interested in me. I wasn't into her, but my friend was. So the girl came back to my hotel, and I turned the lights down and we started making out. I said "Hold on a second, I've gotta go brush my teeth." It was dark, I left the room, and I sent in my friend, who looked like me. And she thought she was having sex with me, but she was really having sex with my friend. I was young and didn't have a conscience.

No John, no!! The world doesn't need to know such horrible things about you! Why have you ruined everything?!?

This tension between Stamos as man-myth and True Colors Stamos is so great that it haunts me even in my sleep. I once dreamed that John and I were actually dating, and throughout the whole of it, I was incredibly conflicted and even weighing the pros and cons in my head. As in the previous argument, the main pro was that I was dating Uncle Jesse. Uncle Jesse! Have mercy. However the whole age difference was troubling me, and as the dream went on and I thought more about what I was doing, I became physically less attracted to him. At one point he kissed me and I was like ew, no.

But the most bizarre reason that I decided that I didn't want to be dating Stamos was that I was troubled by his then-recent breakup with Rebecca Romijn. On one hand, I was concerned that I was the rebound girlfriend, and I didn't want that to happen. Yet even more disturbing was the thought that I might be the un-rebound girlfriend. Because then I'd be tied down to Stamos for the rest of my life and I really didn't want that. I was basically ruing the day I let matters escalate and had no idea how to get out of said situation. How does one break that news to John Stamos? One doesn't. He's Uncle Jesse!!

So, gentle readers, let me put this important decision into your hands. What are your thoughts? Is Stamos your dream hunk? Or are you still just hung up on Uncle Jesse?

Every once in a great while, a hunk comes along for whom words are almost inadequate to describe his hunkitude. Ladies and gentlemen, I present as evidence one Gary Busey.

My love for Gary cannot be constrained by greyscale.	I can't wait until he approves my friend request!
That impish grin makes my heart go pitter-pat.	He'll never escape from my love!
I wish I had a thousand thumbs with which to praise him!	Gary, be mine!
Would that I were that chimp...

Since Videogum has officially proclaimed this the Summer of Neil Patrick Harris, I am going to jump on the bandwagon and likewise support my birth twin. That's right, folks. NPH and I share a birthday. Because of this fact and because I am not at all a narcissist, I hereby decree that he is the hunkiest of all our Hunk Friday hunks - EVER.

Because of his incredible Gemini magnetism and charisma, the lovable fellow we all remember from Doogie Howser, M.D. has escaped the customary Child Star Curse and has blossomed into a magnanimous young man who has since reclaimed the spotlight. Not only is he currently appearing on the popular TV series, How I Met Your Mother, featuring in Harold & Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay, the sequel to the much-loved Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle, and spicing up the set of Sesame Street with his impressive musical talents, but he is also the featured player in Joss Whedon's highly-anticipated Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. Boy, talk about a multi-tasker!

One of the reasons the world has fallen back in love with its prodigal child prodigy is because of his many layers. Neil's (and my! (oh my!)) astrological sign ruled by the twins, so it often seems as if the Gemini is many different people at once. For years, audiences thought they had Doogie pegged: brilliant, responsible, industrious. A few years pass between the end of that series and NPH's comeback in Harold & Kumar and the world was exposed to an entirely different character, one that was the polar opposite of everything we were led to believe: eccentric, irreverent, and hysterically funny. We humans love nothing if not a puzzle (one of the reasons so many romance novels feature a priest storyline), and Neil is most definitely an adorable enigma.

To Neil, my dear birth twin: Thank you for bringing such unbridled joy to the viewing and listening public, and for imparting honor to our esteemed birth date. I know more great things are in store and I'll be cheering you on all the way! P.S., let's make a June 15th gang sign or get matching tattoos or something, ok? Think about it!

We here at ShopWiki would like to take a break from our regularly scheduled Hunk Friday Sexiest Facial Hair programming. We are doing this today in order to pay tribute to the soon-to-be-defunct print version of Playgirl magazine. In the future, should you desire to ogle muscle men (or just read the articles, of course), you will have to visit their web site instead.

In the meantime, let us remember the glory days with some if its more infamous covers (via gigglesugar).

Burt Reynolds	Jean-Claude van Damme	Alan Thicke???

You can say all you want about the "new" Beverly Hills, 90210, but I'm not buying into it. I don't care if Arrested Development's impeccable Jessica Walter is there burning the Peach Pit to the ground; I don't care if Degrassi: The Next Generation's resident good girl gone bad, Shenae Grimes, is falsely accusing the entire West Beverly High staff of molestation.

Sure they've gotten Donna Martin, Kelly Taylor and Brenda Walsh. Hell, they've even got Nat Bussichio. Big deal. They could get Jim and Cindy Walsh, Emily Valentine, and bring Scott Scanlon back from the dead and I still wouldn't bat an eye.

The CBS store can engrave all the iPod Nanos it wants with the likenesses of the classic and iconic cast. No matter how tempting (so very tempting!!!) this all may be, one fact remains.

NONE OF THIS MATTERS.

Without his structurally impenetrable wall of hair, no one is safe from the perils of daily life. Without his sage advice, young adults will inevitably fall into trap after dangerous trap. Without the glue that holds all its residents together, there is no 90210 zip code.

Brandon Walsh - we need you. Now more than ever. Please come home.

Since I don’t smoke, I decided to grow a moustache – it’s better for the health. However, I always carried a jewel-studded cigarette case in which, instead of cigarettes, were carefully placed several moustaches, Adolphe Menjou style. I offered them politely to my friends: "Moustache? Moustache? Moustache?"

Nobody dared touch them. This was my test regarding the sacred aspect of moustaches.

- Salvador Dalí

There are few things as perfectly beautiful in this cold and tumultuous world as a perfectly-crafted and tended mustache. The ideal one should take on a life of its own as a glistening beacon of hope, pointing the way to freedom and utopia. Those who see it will be inspired in unimaginable ways; those who touch it will be overcome with impossible rhapsody; those who wear it will be revered as demigods: pillars of society and a touchstone for all.

The most breathtaking mustache in the history of mankind belonged to one Salvador Domingo Felipe Jacinto Dalí i Domènech, the First Marquis of Púbol. While his name spoke volumes, Dalí's mustache was succinct and precise. There was no mistaking its meaning - in fact, to even expound upon it would be to trivialize it.

So bewitching were his facial accoutrements that it is thought that Daliflor, his most famous eau de toilette, was created in their honor. It is rumored that the scent's mysterious base note was water filtered and mixed by Dalí's own petal-kissed mustache. Since then, Daliflor has become a timeless and classic fragrance, inspiring women young and old to melt with ecstasy.

Thus this mustache was one with a practical purpose: it not only gave a magical quality to Dalí's face, but it bestowed a bit of its own beauty upon others. If only we could all grow mustaches and make such a difference, the world would be a much more beautiful place.

The 1960 United States presidential election between John F. Kennedy and Richard Nixon was one of the closest and most controversial races in US history. It was reported that Kennedy won the national popular vote by only one tenth of a percentage point (0.1%), the tightest popular-vote margin of the previous century!

Theorists speculated that Nixon could have beaten JFK, that baby-faced charmer had he not chosen to sport a scruffy 5 o'clock shadow during the televised presidential election debates. Perhaps Nixon was ahead of his time, believing that the stubbled look could make him appear edgier and more mature, that it could maybe set him apart as the tough-as-nails leader in response to the Hollywood good looks and prestige that JFK was bringing to the table. But alas, we know how history played out; Nixon did finally get his wish, but without the stubble the second time around, his time in office was doomed by insecurities and scandal.

It wasn't until the 1980's, when Don Johnson debuted as an unshaven James "Sonny" Crockett on television's Miami Vice that the 5 o'clock shadow was finally accepted into popular culture. Men wanted to emulate his "designer stubble" and women wanted to touch it. Arguably, in Johnson's case, his boyish good looks were enhanced by the manly barb, whereas Nixon's pudgy, caricaturesque face was made to look even creepier.

Today the 5 o'clock shadow is a staple in the catalog of male facial grooming. Matthew Fox, the sexy doctor from Lost and Salinger clan patriarch in Party of Five, has made his career by toting the scruffed up look. The odd times I've seen him shaven, I feel like he's a quarter of the man he normally appears to be, which is unsettling. With the stubble though, he is a true leader that I'd follow any day.

Or consider Michael Vartan (of Alias fame), who made the throngs of loyal Never Been Kissed fans equally hot for teacher with his gloriously unkempt facial hair. And who wouldn't want to go undercover with with Agent Vaughn, knowing full well that his scruffy splendour will ultimately protect you from being caught and tortured?

Now, like in the case of Richard Nixon, the scruffy look does not work for everyone. Let's take a quick look at some of the failed attempts at scruffiness.

Aaron Carter	Tom Cruise	Frankie Muñiz

John Krasinski (He looks like a human Homer Simpson!)	Michael Jackson (Nightmare material)

The photos above prove that the 5 o'clock shadow isn't for all men. Sometimes it's better to to be fresh-faced. But to those blessed few who can pull it off, I salute thee! May you wear your unborn beards with pride!

Today's hunk with the sexiest facial hair is none other than Your Ship's Bartender, Isaac Washington.

Whether he was mixing drinks, dispensing sage advice to lovelorn passengers, or simply pointing both fingers at you and grinning, Isaac and his trademark Zapata 'stache could do no wrong. With his crowning glory, Your Bartender inspires confidence and trust: you want, nay, you are compelled to tell him your every worry and desire. You intrinsically understand that the wearer of such a mustache would never betray this trust and its very presence comforts you beyond all measure.

Such a mustache is an entity unto itself; it transformed not only Ted Lange, its bearer, into a larger than life figure, but the entire Spelling Television production company henceforth was responsible to maintain this same level of approachable magniloquence. Do you honestly think Fantasy Island or Dynasty could have happened without the influence of The Love Boat? Of course not. Such grandiose visions (read: the epic Hervé Villechaize/Ricardo Montalbán pairing, Joan Collin's shoulder pads) were but an (anemic) attempt to top the majesty of Isaac and his facial hair.

In fact, Mr. Washington was so exceptional a character that I dare postulate that he himself was the Love Boat personified. Consider the lyrics to the iconic theme song:

Come aboard. We're expecting you.
[...]
The Love Boat [Isaac] promises something for everyone
[...]
It's an open smile on a friendly shore

Pretty obvious, isn't it?

There is no question that, at one point or another, Isaac has touched all of our lives - for the better. So the next time you're feeling lonely or sad, just think of Your Ship's Bartender and his legendary mustache. I guarantee that in no time, you'll have a skip in your step, a twinkle in your eye, and two enthusiastically pointing index fingers.

Continuing our theme of the sexiest facial stylings known to man, today's hunk is noteworthy not only for his own inspirational mustache-goatee/soul patch combination and his participation in the Pentavirate, but also for the good he has bestowed upon mankind. Yes, friends, I'm speaking of the legendary Colonel Harland D. Sanders. Not aware of his many talents? Read on.

Cindy: If you don't watch a chicken while he eats and moderate for him, he might eat too much and he'll explode. It's the nature of chickens.
Cindy: What can you do when they go out of control?
lengli: I see hordes of chickens trying to emulate the sheer weight prowess of Biggie Smalls.
Cindy: So true. and the question is... will this excess first lead to their demise or ours?
Cindy: For the sake of humanity these questions must be answered.

lengli: Or else there will be an inevitable war between man and bird, and neither species may make it out alive.
lengli: Sure, we may have firepower, but have you ever been pecked by a chicken? It is an experience you will not soon wish to relive.
Cindy: It seems all to clear to me know. When Nostradamus was writing his prophecy on the coming of the 3rd Antichrist, he was not speaking of a man - he was speaking of a chicken. A chicken so evil he can challenge the world and stability of man.
lengli: I shudder to even consider it.
Cindy: Shudder now. Die later. They must be stopped!!!
lengli: We must formulate a plan: the resurrection of Colonel Sanders. Only he can save us now.
Cindy: Yes!!! You are a wise, wise woman, lengli!!!
lengli: It is for the good of the free world that I plot.
Cindy: And the world should thank you! I thank you on behalf of the world. Colonel Sanders must be resurrected.
Cindy: There is no other way.

And the ladies love him.

In honor of America's birthday, we are delighted to celebrate Abraham Lincoln, an icon known both for his contributions to the Union and to the illustrious legacy of facial hair. This coif of beard-with-no-mustache (also known as a "chin curtain") has been an inspiration for thousands of Amish and sexual deviants everywhere (I strongly advise you against clicking that link unless you wish to have your idyllic visions of Mr. Lincoln destroyed forever).

Fun Facts About Honest Abe

Lincoln was born in Hardin County, Kentucky and as such was reputed to be the creator of the "Gettin' Lucky in Kentucky" catchphrase.

At the suggestion of an eleven-year-old girl, Lincoln grew his now-famous beard. She also suggested that he dress all in pink and adopt the moniker "Princess Pearly Pie", but Abe wisely chose to disregard this advice. Less than a month later, he was elected president.

Lincoln was known as a bit of a prankster, even after death. During one of Winston Churchill's visits to the White House, Lincoln's ghost hid all of the prime minister's clothes as he was bathing. Imagine Eleanor Roosevelt's surprise to find a nude Churchill scurrying down the hall to the guest room!

A talented singer, Lincoln sang on the recording for Once More with Feeling, the musical episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

From all of us at ShopWiki, we wish you a happy and safe Independence Day, and a belated Happy Canada Day to our friendly neighbo(u)rs to the north! May your holidays be as glorious as the hair atop Lincoln's chin!

Hi folks,

I'm Michael Gross, but you probably know me best from TV's "Family Ties". I'm here today to inform you about an amazing public service and opportunity for infinite personal gain. Yes, I'm here to speak to you about beards.

You see, friends, I was once like you: tall, gangly, involved in petty gang warfare. The streets of Chicago can be tough, and as an impressionable teenager, I fell into all the usual traps. For years I was without purpose or direction and I myself was convinced that I was forever lost.

Until one day.

Yes, dear readers, one fateful January day, I was walking along the Chicago River in the bitterest of colds. My skin was chapped a severe purple and I was certain that my cheeks would never warm up again. I said to myself, "Michael," I said, "There has to be a better way. There has to be a way to survive this lake effect with dignity."

And so it was this very day that I started growing my beard: the beard that would not only make me a star, but would also save my life. Had I not come to possess this shining beacon of facial hair, I never would have escaped the band of miscreants that had entangled me in their web of crime. With my new beard, I was rejected by these very same scoundrels as a liability: I was now identifiable, no longer just a face in the crowd. Sweet liberty was at last mine!

A few years later, I went on to the hallowed halls of Yale University to get my MFA in drama, and shortly after that, I would find my greatest role as Steven Keaton, patriarch of the Keaton clan on "Family Ties". Look at this photo at the right and I challenge you to see anything other than my glorious beard. Impossible, isn't it?

So if you're looking to change your life for the better, I urge you with all my heart: grow a beard. Do it today. The life you save could be your own.

Sincerely,

One of the most beautiful facial hair stylings around is arguably the goatee. From the French Fork and the Musketeer to the Van Dyck and the soul patch, few 'dos have the capacity for not only a nearly infinite number of variations, but also for complete versatility. I daresay there is a goatee to go with every outfit, hairstyle, and moral persuasion known to man (and woman, should she be so lucky!).

When it comes to the most memorable personality-related goatee of all time, two examples run practically head to head: Star Trek's Evil Mr. Spock and Garthe Knight, Michael of Knight Rider's evil brother. Just look at the passion in their eyes - do you think that's pure coincidence, my friend? The same dedication that goes into their facial coiffures is in direct proportion to the fire that exists in their souls, such that even Vulcan emotional suppression cannot contain it.

Now, I'm not saying that wearing a goatee necessarily makes one evil, but if you're looking to stand out from the rest of your goody-goody, clean-shaven family, it's certainly a cheap and easy way to do so. Additionally, it inevitably helps eliminate the embarrassing rooftop scenario of some wild-eyed, gun-toting ingenue shooting the wrong twin by mistake - I think we all know how priceless that can be!

So the next time you've forgotten to shave for a couple days, consider making the goatee your new best friend. But beware: not everyone may be able to handle the new lust for life it offers. Will you be ready?

Hello again! It's Cindy guest posting once again on the ShopWiki blog for Hunk Friday - hoorah! This week will begin a series of posts celebrating the sexiest facial fashions throughout history. From the classic mustache to the edgiest of goatees, I intend to help raise the awareness of the glory of facial hair.

For this first post, my goal is to ease the public slowly into the world of wacky whiskers, First on the agenda, I am covering my favourite Private Dick, Magnum P.I., played by the ruggedly studly Tom Selleck. A true man's man (and woman's man), he is both approachable and irresistible with his classic mustache.

The enviable fullness of his 'stache has raised the bar on the standard of the male barb. In and of itself the mustache is an icon, with a personality and style of its own. When you boil it down, it's almost a chicken and an egg scenario: does the mustache make Tom Selleck or does Tom Selleck make the mustache?

All I know is that it works, and boy does it work well.

So I will leave you with an auspicious Friday the 13th send-off courtesy of my favourite mustache:

The Mustache's Prayer

Each and every night I thank the Lord for being kind and fair,
For placing me above the lip of a man so debonair
So dashing and so virile, the women stop and stare,
Lord I am so bless'd to be Tom Selleck's mustache hair.

Laurence Tureaud one fateful day was born:
The youngest kid of twelve, and surely blessed.
Athletic from the start; you would have sworn
He'd dazzle young and old with his success.

Mohawk inspir'd by fighting rogues abroad,
Gold chains around his neck and jew'ls abound.
In sight of such great will, Stallone was awed;
The role of Clubber Lang to T was crowned.

You are somebody - not somebody's fool.
From him we learned the way to treat our mom,
To drink our milk and always stay in school:
All that we need to get a date for prom.

To Mr. T we send our deepest love.
So strong and tough, yet gentle like a dove.

♪ Oh, I'm picking out a thermos for you
Not an ordinary thermos for you
But the extra-best thermos I can buy
With vinyl, and stripes, and a cup built right in
I'm picking out a thermos for you
And maybe a barometer too
And what else can I buy, so on me you'll rely
A rear-end thermometer too! ♪

Sincerest apologies to Tiny Tim, but never has a ukulele player looked this good. Steve Martin as Navin R. Johnson in "The Jerk" was the absolute pinnacle of idiot savant hunkitude and remains the romantic icon for all but the most cynical of intellectuals.

Every time I meet a potential suitor, I find myself comparing him to Navin. Would my date defend my honor against a snooty waiter attempting to pass off garden snails as an appetizer? Would he take a stance against the horrible practice of cat juggling? Would he let me throw knives at him in support of my artistic endeavors? The results are inevitably dismal, and I am forced to call things off.

Yes, the world can be a lonely place, but I refuse to lower my standards. So until that day when I find my very own Twinkie-eating, weight-guessing, special-purpose-having, oil-can-saving, Optigrab-inventing, no-rhythm-possessing hunk of man, I guess I'll be picking out my own damn thermos.

Sigh.

Ah, Rio.

No, I'm not talking about the Duran Duran song. For those of us who grew up in the 80's there was no bigger hunk, animated or not, than Jem & the Holograms' Rio Pacheco. With his flashing eyes, solid jaw, and feathered purple hair, Rio was truly a sight to behold. But Rio was not only easy on the eyes, he was a complex and layered character worthy of many a thesis statement.

For those unfamiliar with the show, record company heiress Jerrica Benton adopts the persona of Jem, glam rocker extraordinaire. Rio is Jerrica's longtime boyfriend; however, unaware of her secret identity, he finds himself drawn to Jem and thereby struggling with classic archetypal issues of unfaithfulness.

Much like John Proctor of The Crucible, Jane Eyre's Edward Rochester, and The Age of Innocence's Newland Archer, Rio is squarely caught between his duty to one woman and his attraction to another. His unexplained trust issues further complicate matters: Jerrica never reveals the truth out of fear that her boyfriend will feel betrayed, only further entangling them in the web of lies.

The fact that this conflict was never resolved is admirable: there are no easy answers for Rio. In fact, providing resolution would trivialize his situation and make for a markedly less sympathetic character. Heady stuff for a children's television program for sure, but the 80's were nothing if not a time of addressing poignant social issues (see also: Gimme A Break! on racism, The Facts of Life on cerebral palsy, and Pee-Wee's Playhouse on intermarriage when Pee-Wee marries his peanut butter and jelly sandwich), and those who at the time were experiencing our formative years wouldn't have had it any other way.

Rio, thank you for making our lives truly truly truly outrageous.

Ughh, there goes Søren again, prancing around like he owns the place. So full of himself, like he's some sort of Superman or something. Ha!

We're working our butts off and he's just standing there with women flocking to him. I swear, Fred, it's like we're not even in the same class!

Would you look at this? It's not like we're anything to sneeze at, but you'd think we had the plague. [Sighs] Oh, I don't know what to believe anymore. I'm so depressed.

Bourgeois scum...he'll get his. History doesn't have to repeat itself, you know. Someday the tables will turn and we'll be the ones with all the glory. The women will come to us.

Hey guys, how's it going? Listen, the girls and I are gonna go back to my place and check out my journals, you wanna come?

R-really...? That's really decent of you, guy! Whaddaya say, Karl?

Hey, I'm always up to start a party! This will be a night to remember!

In honor of MacGyver creator Lee David Zlotoff's announcement that he intends to make a full-length movie of the classic 1980's hit show, today's Hunk Friday post is obviously dedicated to the man himself, Richard Dean Anderson.

I have composed a poem for the occasion:

Man of brains, even though he had brawn,
Angus was his name, and gentle as a fawn.
Could there be a problem you can't solve?
Grand man, your knowledge does ever evolve.
Your Swiss Army Knife was your most faithful chum,
Virilely you stood alone, but if only I had been the one!
E'er I'll smell the sweet perfume of your feathered hair,
Raspberry shampoo that helps plug that sulfuric acid leak over there.

What is it about Dylan McKay that made millions of teenaged girls collectively swoon as one? Was it the swagger? The "it-hurts-too-much-to-speak-so-I'm-just-going-to-stand-here-and-brood" raspy voice? The hot car? The tortured perma-wrinkles on his forehead (I was convinced that if I stared hard enough I would eventually be able to see into his soul)?

The most famous faux teen ever to grace the halcyon glow of the television screen, Dylan McKay was a legend - nay, an icon. Guys wanted to be him, women wanted to be with him. Rumor has it the real reason Shannen Doherty left the show was because she was put in traction by a gaggle of jealous teen girls after her character, Brenda Walsh, cheated on Dylan on a study abroad to Paris. It nearly six months for all of the welts to go down, by which time it was too late: Doherty had already snapped.

Years later, the allure is still there, transcending time. Luke Perry may be a strapping 68 years old, but Dylan McKay is forever preserved as a sprightly quadragenarian tearing up the Pacific on his surfboard, the sunset reflecting off his perfectly spiked hair.

Though Kelly Taylor might have said "I CHOOSE ME", we here at Overlooked will never let him go. Always and forever, sweet prince. Always and forever.

¿Erik Estrada...		...o Ricardo Montalbán?
Pros He's a Pisces - sensitive! Was on the cover of Tiger Beat magazine You'll never again have to pay for your own hair products	Cons He keeps stealing your shorts Gets sulky if you spell his first name with a 'C' by mistake	Pros He's a Sagittarius - fiery! Will make all your fantasies come true He'll say "soft Corinthian leather" for you whenever you ask	Cons No cons, only KHAAAN

Congratulations, grads!

Ronald McDonald Activities: Class president, Yearbook editor, Varsity Football, Future Business Leaders of America The difference between a successful person and others is not a lack of strength, not a lack of knowledge, but rather a lack of will. -Vince Lombardi	Mayor McCheese Activities: National Honor Society, Chess Club, Model U.N., Math Club, A.V. Club, Newspaper editor, Science Olympiad, French Club, Debate Team, Marching Band In view of the fact that God limited the intelligence of man, it seems unfair that he did not also limit his stupidity. -Konrad Adenauer	Hamburglar Activities: Varsity Hockey, Auto Club, Battle of the Bands I wanna rock and roll night and party every day. -KISS

Grimace Activities: Drama club, Chorus, Creative Writing Club, Art Club All art is a kind of confession, more or less oblique. All artists, if they are to survive, are forced, at last, to tell the whole story; to vomit the anguish up. -James Baldwin	Fry Kid Activities: Ski Club, Skateboard Club, Home Ec Club Everybody must get stoned. -Bob Dylan

I'm sure that it is abundantly clear by now that we here at ShopWiki are what you may call "hunk enthusiasts". We love our hunks, and we love celebrating them, but what we do not love is the exclusion factor. For one hunk to be chosen means a different hunk has been ignored, and some Fridays, it is a veritable Sophie's choice to pick a sole stud from the multitudes of choice candidates. Often, I end up sobbing at my desk from the horrible injustice of it all.

Had I known what I was getting myself into, I might have thought twice before embarking on this journey. But ah! To give this up would be giving a piece of myself up as well; it would be to ignore my true calling.

Today, however, I need a brief respite from decision-making. Therefore, instead of selecting one particular hunk, I would like to celebrate the entire pantheon of hunkdom. I have found a number of products that honor beefcakes, studs, man candy, lotharios, and heartbreakers, and I encourage all of you to shout it from the mountaintops with us: we love hunks!

In honor of the New Kids on the Block reunion this morning on the Today Show, I would like to share one of my most precious/appalling New Kids memories.

When I was in elementary school, in order to win friends and influence people (I was a precocious dictator you see), I always had a pool party birthday celebration. Because kids are shallow like that, it worked - at least until the girls started "their menses" and no longer were able to swim (back when America was but a shy country and collectively "not-so-fresh").

However, before the end of my magnificent reign, I did host a party that procured me one of the most memorable gifts I have ever received. A NKOTB ACTION FIGURE. The Joey McIntyre one, to be specific. Now mind you, this was when I was in 3rd or 4th grade - approximately 1988 or 1989 - long past when the Kids were actually popular, but not long enough for them to actually accumulate kitsch value.

Upon opening this present, the entire conglomerate of girls dissolved into giggles. My friend Lauren, the benefactress, laughed loudest of all - it was the best joke present she had ever given! As best I could through my shrieks of horror, I gave her the evil eye and immediately set about opening her real present.

The doll was immediately established as a sacrificial object. We girls set to work channeling our aggression towards the once-loved, now completely lame boy band by scraping poor Joey's face against the concrete walkways lining the pool. Within moments, his head was reduced to a flesh-colored pulp and we were getting ready for birthday cake.

That Joey doll stayed in our pool supply cabinet for years after, until my parents, apparently disgusted enough with the knowledge that such a Lord of the Flies moment had occurred in their very back yard, deposited him the trash once and for all. Sometimes I wonder what ever became of that wee action figure - did he become some dog's chew toy? Did he get melted down to make up an eyeball on a Tickle Me Elmo doll? Did some hobo at the landfill find him and give him a good home? Is he happy there? Does he ever think of his days as a pool toy? Does his wee plastic soul still hold a grudge against pre-teen girls for taking his radiant beauty?

Wherever you are, my New Kids' Joey action figure, I hope you find your way. Godspeed, little friend, Godspeed.

First of all, I'd like to thank Cindy for her wonderful go at guest posting last week. Not having grown up on "Star Trek", there is no way that I could have ever done justice in reaching out to Trekkies, a significant portion of the population! Cindy, we salute you, Vulcan style.

Now, the reason for my absence last week is that I was on a pilgrimage to Santa Cruz, California. For those not in the know, Santa Cruz is a veritable mecca for aging hippies, skater kids, and eccentric homeless. However, and more importantly, it was the location for the 80's masterpiece "The Lost Boys", perhaps the pinnacle of any hunk enthusiast's collection. Let's peruse, shall we?

Corey Haim

My favo(u)rite Canadian-citizen-turned-Hollywood-teen-idol, and one half of the überpairing that was "The Coreys". Comedy, drama, dramady, Corey Haim could do it all. Here are some words that rhyme with Corey: Gory. Story. Allegory. Montessori. Music to my ears!

Thanks to Corey Feldman, I never really got over my love of the mischievous heartbreaker, nor my love of a good 'n' feathered 80's mullet. He has a smaller mouth than Corey Haim, which leads me to believe that I could tell him my deepest and darkest secrets, and he'd never peep a word to anybody. Plus he's a Cancer, so he's a nester - someone with whom you could really build a home, you know? Keep an eye out for him in the upcoming "Lost Boys 2: The Tribe"!

Corey Feldman

Kiefer Sutherland

While Corey Haim might be my favo(u)rite Canadian-citizen-turned-Hollywood-teen-idol, Kiefer Sutherland might just be my favo(u)rite Canadian-citizen-born-to-Donald-Sutherland-turned-Hollywood-actor. Need another reason to love him? "During the autumn of 2001, Sutherland unintentionally interrupted the filming of [...] The Lonely Island. [...T]he main characters develop an addiction to teeth whitener, and eventually mug an old woman to facilitate their addiction. Sutherland, driving by at the time, believed the mugging was real and jumped out of his car to intervene." My hero! Except for the DUIs.

What is there to say about Jason Patric? He was in "Speed 2: Cruise Control". And uh...he has pretty eyes?

Jason Patric

Though I didn't see any of the original actors or get abducted by vampires (though I did get verbally abused for not wearing green on St. Patrick's Day by no less than 3 different parties!), the trip to Santa Cruz was a resounding success, and I would highly recommend it to hunk aficionados, 80s fans, and civilians alike. Except for the bit about Laffing Sal, who is just straight up terrifying.

Guest blogging is fun. Guest blogging about one of my guilty pleasures is literally out of this world.

Hi, my name is Cindy! In lengi's absence, I'm blogging all the way from the Great White North (a.k.a. Canada) about my guiltiest pleasure: Star Trek: The Next Generation and my favourite outer space hunk, Commander William T. Riker.

Star Trek: TNG is one of those shows you learn to love. Once you've gotten past the cultural hang-ups, what you find is a future world that is promising and full of able-bodied men ready to go where no man has gone before. And in the thick of it all is Commander Riker - bold, brash and willing to break the rules for the greater good.

I've always gravitated towards the bad boy that plays on the side of the good guys. With a confident swagger and the ability to speak his mind regardless of the consequences, Commander Riker has just enough arrogance to get my attention. He's like the George Clooney of interstellar travel!

Whether it's fighting for what's right alongside Captain Picard or unwinding with a drink at Ten Forward with the USS Enterprise-D bridge crew, Riker always keeps it spicy. If the Star Fleet uniform dress code allowed for it, you'd better bet Riker would be wearing one made of leather.

So when Holodecks finally become a reality, my holo-program will feature Riker picking me up on his motorcycle for a night on the town. Wait, this is the future right? Make that a hover-cycle.

While it's fair to say that all of our Hunk Friday choices are universally adored, this is particularly true of Leif Garrett. To this very day, there are hordes of devoted fans professing their love in myriad languages. From the way his admirers sing his praises, one would think it was still the 70s and Leif is still the legendary and unsullied dreamy-eyed teen.

I could go on and on extolling his virtues and marveling at the intricate feathering of his hair (I admit it, I'm jealous), but who better to offer a tribute than the fans themselves? Some of the most passionate user comments at the Youtube page for "I Was Made for Dancin'" are listed below. Read, listen, and remember.

In order of ardor, from slightly lustful to just unabashedly creepy.

This is guy's got the most mesmerizing eyes.

Oh Leif! You was/are really handsome and I love this song FOREVER. Thank for the emotion!

i was made for leif garret

que guapo!!!!! nunca me olvide de el,la sonrisa mas hermosa,y los ojos mas bonitos del mundo,leif mi rizitos de oro
(So handsome!!!!! I've never forgotten about him, the most handsome smile, and the most beautiful eyes in the word, my leif with the golden curls)

te amo,te amo,te amo,siempre seras el amor de mi vida
(I love you, I love you, I love you, you will always be the love of my life)

i love you leif garrett,i want to have 50 children with you.and bring you with me to my country nicaragua and dance all night long with you,my virginity is complete yours
(Please note that this same person also wrote this as a separate comment in Spanish, just in case: quiero casarme con leif garrett y tener 50 hijos con el,es lo mas bello del mundooooooooooo,ademas que lo quiero consolar.)

Let Leif rekindle your passion...

Name: Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin
Sun Sign: Aquarius
Best Love Matches: Aries, Gemini, Libra

Turn ons: Vitamins, heartfelt conversation, family, goth girls
Turn offs: Hair gel, long walks by the river, girls who think they know everything, loud music

Hey gals, lengli here! So I'm super stoked because the other day, Rasputin dropped by to say hi and chat with us! You guys, I was SO excited to finally meet him, and let me tell you, between that dreamy beard and those smoldering eyes, I had a hard time keeping it together!

If you're like me, I'm sure that you're just over the pretty boys that are all about their looks - we all want a macho man dreamboat stud, am I right? Rasputin is the total package! He's strong as an elephant, so you'll always feel totally safe and protected, plus he's a TEN without even looking like he's trying too hard! You'll totally be drawn to him - in fact, you may even swear he's cast a spell over you!

Fun Facts About Rasputin:

"The monk Rasputin" anagrams to "Priest to hunk man" - totally!!

Inspired German pop group Boney M. to pen their classic disco track, "Rasputin"!

Ed. note: Many thanks to the fine folks at Tiger Beat magazine for their countless years of inspiration!

Yesterday we here at Overlooked were passed along an amazing article from Best Week Ever called The Top 20 Stupid Faces Made By Patrick Swayze in Ghost. So inspired were we by P.Swayz's impressive emotive talents that we planned our own list featuring the hodgepodge of faces Claire Danes makes when she cries. However, given the terrible news that one of our original resident hunks has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, we would like to delay our post and wish Patrick all our best. We're still living every day like it's August 18th and we're rooting for you!

♥,
Overlooked

Hi Scott. It's me, lengli.

I know it's been a long time since my brother used to make fun of me for singing along with the "Charles in Charge" theme song, but I want you to know that I haven't stopped thinking about you. You've stuck in my head just as well as that catchy pop song did. In fact, I even moved near your hometown of Bay Ridge in tribute. I swear the fact that they filmed "Saturday Night Fever" there didn't even cross my mind. John Tra-who-ta?

Every time I look at the Verrazano Bridge, I think about how you once looked at the very same view. What were you thinking about, Scott? Did you ever dream of who you would become? Could you possibly have imagined how things ultimately played out? I so long to understand your thoughts.

Well Scott, I have to be going now. My friend Alissa and I have looked up all the Baios in the area and we're going on a walking tour. When we walk by your old high school, I'll be sure to wave for you.

From now on, I'll be in charge of your days and your nights, of your wrongs and your rights. And you'll see. You'll want me in charge of you.

♥,
lengli

As time goes by, my mission in life becomes clearer every day: I know that I am to devote myself to preserving the memory of Liberace for the generations to follow. There is no better way than to think globally and act locally, so I am planning to redecorate my apartment this spring. I feel that constantly being in the presence of such grandeur will inspire me in unimaginable ways.

The only problem is that space is very limited, and though it would be my dream to have the theme carry over into the entire apartment, I do have roommates and I don't want them to reject Liberace before they even get to know him. And so here is where I enlist you, Internets, to help me decide how to get the most bang for my buck with these timeless cardboard standups. Make sure to leave your vote in the comments!

Mystery Daterace This is the Glitter Man at his most refined, delightfully understated for him and ready for every occasion. Dinner with the Queen? A night in with friends? He's ready for anything and will look amazing doing it!	The Czar Wonderfully sophisticated - and dare I say royal? - the Czar is just the thing to impress honored visitors. Surprisingly sensitive, he'll dedicate songs to you on the radio and buy you ice cream on hot summer days.	Stars & Stripes Foreverace Patriotic, whimsical, and always ready to kick up his heels, he'll choreograph dances and lead the crowd in karaoke. Need last-minute snacks too? Not to worry, he's a whiz with petit fours! Martha Stewart, eat your heart out!

Tony Danza (to the tune of Elton John's "Tiny Dancer")

Cleaning man, always at hand
In the Bower's living room
Tony Micelli, he's at the ready
In his hand a wooden spoon

But he's like a third wheel
Standing here, Angela near
Heading out, dating some yuppie
You know he's lonely

Hold me closer Tony Danza
Won't you take me to a buffet?
Why don't we go back home to Brooklyn
You had a busy day, oh eyyy

Today for Hunk Friday, I am taking a cue from the eminent Armsweat and writing a report on our subject at hand: JRR Tolkien.

When it comes to shaping generations of delicate, asthmatic, small-handed man-children, only a smattering of names come to mind: William Shatner, E. Gary Gygax, Stan Lee, that knight at RenFair. But no other historical figure was more memorable than JRR Tolkien, the author of the Lord of the Rings novels.

John Ronald Reuel Tolkien was born on January 3, 1892 in Bloemfontein, South Africa to Arthur Reuel Tolkien and his wife Mabel. The couple soon discovered that scolding John Ronald Reuel often left them short of breath, and so took to calling him "JRR" as an homage to their favorite character on "Dallas", the wildly popular TV series. JRR himself was a "Beauty and the Beast" fan and preferred to simply be called Ronald.

At the age of three, Arthur died of rheumatic fever and the young family went to live with relatives in England. Mabel was entrusted with Ronald's early education and allowed him to read a great deal. He was a fan of stories about Native Americans, but disliked Treasure Island after an ill-fated trip to the zoo wherein he was verbally abused by an irritable mynah bird. This left him distrustful of exotic birds in general ("cantankerous bastards" was his preferred manner of describing them) and the bird in question actually served as the model for Gollum in "Lord of the Rings".

Ronald was something of a rebellious youth and fell in line with a gang calling themselves the TCBS: "Tea Club and Barrovian Society". The members met often to drink tea at a store called Barrow's, and later on as they became more and more caffeine-addicted, they took to drinking tea illicitly in the school library. Many a TCBS member was sternly reprimanded for leaving water marks on the library tables, but their thirst for Earl Grey could not be slaked.

Of course, this very derring-do made Ronald a hit with the ladies, but he only had eyes for Edith Mary Bratt, three years his senior. However, his guardian saw her as an unnecessary distraction and forbade Tolkien from corresponding with her until he was twenty-one. Thankfully, his crippling tea addiction occupied him until then, but on his 21st birthday following a massive detox, he proposed. Edith, in the meantime, was convinced that she had been discarded and had become engaged to another man, but Tolkien won out in the end. The two were married in 1916, Edith carrying a bouquet made of chamomile flowers.

After marriage, Tolkien took a job at the Oxford English Dictionary working on the history and etymology of words of Germanic origin beginning with the letter W. It was a tedious job, even for a cunning linguist such as himself, and his demons eventually came back to haunt him: within months he was up to 8 cups of Darjeeling a day. These caffeine highs and lows laid the seed for the three volumes of the Lord of the Rings, especially the Ring-wraiths, a product of a hallucination involving rabid mynah birds.

Sadly, Tolkien died in 1973, but his legacy is kept alive to this day by hunk-enthusiasts and gawky adolescents alike. JRR Tolkien, we salute you!

AN OPEN LETTER FROM THE DESKS OF JON VOIGT AND BURT REYNOLDS

Dear Friends:

We have a beef: a beef for the future of macho men everywhere. In fact, it's such a huge and macho beef that it might as well be a steak.

When we turn on our televisions at night or go to movies on weekends, all we see are shi-shi dyed blonde, spiked hair, fake-tanned, eyebrows painted on, foundation wearing, pink-shirted pretty boys. Take that show "Gossip Girl" for instance - as far as we're concerned, the entire cast is female! And Zac Efron? They didn't need that much makeup for Eric Stoltz in "Mask"!!

We are calling for immediate action. A return to the glory days is in order: the days before eyebrow waxing, the days when a woman would burst into ecstasy just at the sight of chest hair. The days when a middle-aged lothario could cultivate a beer gut and lounge around in his tighty whiteys and still set hearts aflame in every direction. Manly men of the world, the time is now. Set down your Sally Hansen waxing kits and follow us!

Remember: you are the future. BE ADEQUITE.

Editor's note: A huge thank you to our friend Cindy for her hunkspiration!

(I once had an unsubstantiated theory that Tim Gunn of TV's "Project Runway" was Canadian. I don't know what it is about him, but there is something that makes my finely-honed Canadar ^TM (Go Redmen!) go ping. At the time, I could find no evidence to disprove my theory, which naturally only added to my conspiracy: no longer is Tim simply Canadian, but now he is ashamed of his motherland. For the record, Tim claims to be from Washington, D.C., though I still have my doubts.)

Tim Gunn settled into the 400-thread count Egyptian cotton sheets that topped his Louis XIV 4-poster canopy bed with the newest issues of Us Weekly, silently berating Natalie Portman's attached earlobes. Though admittedly Natalie did her best to make them work, there were surgeries for that kind of thing. Tim sighed to himself, absent-mindedly running a hand through his silver hair.

He put down the magazine and gazed off at nothing in particular for several moments. Suddenly, tears started to well up in his eyes, and their plopping onto the glossy gossip pages was the only sound in the room. Tim shook his head, trying in vain to stop their flow. Why were things so hard for him? He knew it was only a matter of time: imdb.com had workers lurking in every alley, and those hounds at E! Online were giving Tim ever-increasing migraines. He reached for his glass of San Pellegrino and tried to persuade himself of the soothing power of its effervescent bubbles: people paid top dollar for similar treatments at spas, and such treatments only affected the outside of your body.

But all was futile, Tim knew deep in his soul. Such was the double-edged sword of fame with which he had been knighted. One day, for certain...the truth would come out, and the knowledge of that fact ate away at him every waking moment of the day.

For Tim had a secret.

He was Canadian.

To be continued...

A bill recently introduced before the Virginia State Assembly seeks to ban the display of...uh, the embellishment of truck trailer hitches with, uh...how to put this tastefully...

This is the first any of us at ShopWiki Headquarters have heard of this automotive phenomenon - we're all city folk, and it's real hard to hang a set of these things on the back of a subway car. That said, we have already begun to discuss additional non-vehicular uses for these things.

Location: ShopWiki World Headquarters, NYC
Boss man: "Yeah, hey there Stocky Dwarf. I'm gonna have to go ahead and, uh, ask you to come in Saturday. Yeah."
Stocky Dwarf: *Produces the above item*
Stocky Dwarf: "You can suck on these."

Can we assemble some sort of Poor Taste Value Pack so you can get all of the necessary accessories for your pickup in one box?

You may call me Hanoi lengli, but to me, nothing is more sexy than power and a cause.

There is just something about Ho Chi Minh that makes him stand apart from the other dictators featured in my Communist memorabilia. Perhaps it is the shy smile, the creative sculpting of facial hair, or the quiet sparkle in his eyes that really draws me to him - it projects an image of softness and approachability, unlike the smug Stalin, whose cocky smirk probably alienated women just as well as it did capitalist countries.

Yes, my Ho Chi Minh commemorative plate is truly the treasure of my collection. I could stare at it for hours (and often find that I do!) and am often moved to write poetry. If you'll indulge me, I'd love to share one of my better haikus with you, in hopes that you too will be inspired enough to compose your own.

Man of the City
You stare at me from your plate
Beard before its time

My dear Ho Chi Minh
Speaks a dozen languages
And the language of love.

Here's to you, my sweet revolutionary angel.

People are usually surprised to find out that my presidential hottie soulmate is Andrew Jackson. After all, it's Thomas Jefferson who is the veritable "Burt Reynolds of presidents", wooing women left and right and fathering a plethora of children. He was the total Big Man on Campus, to quote Marcia Brady.

But I say Jefferson was far too handsome, too worldly - too obvious! For me, there is nothing like "Old Hickory" Jackson, and his legacy extends far beyond the presidency. In fact, it is often speculated both Arthur "The Fonz" Fonzarelli of "Happy Days" and Dylan McKay of "Beverly Hills, 90210" were based on the archetypal bad boy. Jackson was the original rebel: orphaned at a young age, sporadically educated, and harboring an intense rage for the British.

However, this outcast was the sensitive and brooding type, and isn't that the most alluring type of all? In 1788, Jackson was entranced by the Rachel Donelson (who totally has my birthday - that means he's totally my astrological soulmate!), who was already married to the jealous and unreasonable Captain Robards. The two ultimately separated and when Robards claimed that he obtained a divorce, Andrew and Rachel married - only to find out two years later that the divorce had never been finalized, thus making the Jacksons' marriage invalid. Though the two were legally remarried, there was controversy and Andrew fought a record 13 duels to defend his wife's honor - be still my heart!!

So if you want a president to love you and leave you, you can keep your Thomas Jefferson. But if you want a president to write songs about you, brush the hair out of your face, and share an umbrella with you on a rainy day, I think I have your man. And in the style of my classic hunk, I think I might fight you for him.

If you're like me, you just can't get enough of the glitter and drama of Las Vegas shows, but by the time Celine Dion and Wayne Newton get made up and take the stage, that third cup of Maxwell House is just NOT cutting it anymore! So what's an aspiring showgirl to do when her eyes start drooping?

Leave it to none other than Siegfried & Roy to solve the most difficult of Vegas's problems!

In 1999, frustrated with the rampant tardiness on the set of the film "Siegfried & Roy: The Magic Box", magician Siegfried Fischbacher set about to brainstorming. After attempts to disappear the troublesome staff members to remote regions of the Mohave Desert failed to teach any sort of permanent lesson, he knew something more had to be done.

And thus was born The Siegfried & Roy Limited Edition Collector's Series Wrist Watch. Combining German efficiency and Las Vegas-style glitz, Siegfried knew that these watches would keep his sorry interns in shape, and commemorate the IMax film release in style! It not only ensured that each film screening started exactly on time, but also their Vegas performances as well. And you know what that means for those of us trying to get home before the babysitter has to leave for her "hot date" (it also means I can save the Maxwell House for when company comes over)!

Celine, honey, you can save your voice - I'm going to see Siegfried & Roy!

Hello women of the world!

It is I, Fabio, here to captivate your senses, protect your waistlines, and defend your honor, especially from low-class scumbags that upset you in public. Fabio can do all this and more, but Fabio does not go where he is not wanted.

It is such a long way I have come from Milano, but I would cross a sea of oceans to make you happy. I would ride multitudes of roller coasters and battle hordes of angry, squawking birds just to see you smile. And if your cheeks become too tired from smiling so much, I will hold the corners of your mouth in place, so you can continue to smile without further discomfort.

It's true: every day with me is like Christmas, New Year's Day, Arbor Day, and Rosh Hashanah all in one. There is always a present to be unwrapped, and Fabio is more than happy to oblige. I will not only bring you to new heights of ecstasy, but will also help around the house: feel free to do your laundry on my washboard abs, or simply entrust me with the cooking. In Fabio's capable hands, each singular strand of pasta will be cooked to al dente perfection and exquisitely seasoned.

So please, open up your heart and let Fabio into your life! I promise this is a decision that you will never regret, and I am willing to wait as long as it takes. Until you are ready, I will be waiting.

XOXO,
Fabio

Note: The weather outside may be frightful, but Fabio is more than enough to keep us all warm until Overlooked returns on January 2. Safe and happy holidays to all of you and we'll see you next year!

Salutations, my dear friends. You probably remember me as Bubbles the Chimp, the star player of Michael Jackson's menagerie of animals at the Neverland Ranch. It's true: in the magical, dazey days that were the mid-80s, everything was all about The Bub. Spanky the Dog? Who? Uncle Tookie the Frog? Oh puh-leeeeeze. Yesiree, when it came to sheer pizzazz and pure animal magnetism, there was no contest.

Except for one man.

In all the land, there was only one who could rival my charm and charisma. Some might say that it was meant to be from the start: our eyes met across a crowded cancer research clinic one warm October afternoon, and I knew that my life was about to change forever. Even though he was talking to a doctor at the time, every sweet and dulcet word that tumbled out of his mouth like harvested wheat from a Thanksgiving cornucopia seemed like it was meant just for me. In the ensuing whirlwind, I was whisked away to California and promptly inaugurated into the heady lifestyle of the Hollywood glitterati. My welcome was warm and enthusiastic, and in just a few short months, my phone number was unlisted and I was the toast of the town.

However, no matter how famous I had become, it was Michael, always Michael whose approval I sought. Michael, who, with one pop of his hip, could light up an entire room. When he would spin on his heel and cry out "Shomon!" women and men alike would weep with joy and crying babies would burst into peals of laughter. He was a vision to behold, an inspiration, a legend.

Though my years with him were short, they were the most cherished ones of my life. I'll never forgive myself for letting things go sour; in my mission to be the only animal in his life, I ultimately drove him away and into the paws of another.

It's true what they say: if you love something, set it free....

Wooed away from Siegfried and Roy

Long before such disasters as Staying Alive and Battlefield Earth, John Travolta, America's Hunkiest Hunk^TM, was but a struggling young actor with only a thick head of lustrous raven hair to his name. John always knew that he would be a star, but unfortunately, the rest of the world was still in the dark.

Until one day.

On that glorious September evening in 1975, millions of Americans sitting down to the familiar amber glow of the family television would have their lives forever changed by two names and six sexy syllables: Vinnie Barbarino.

The rest, as they say, is history: Travolta would go on to capture even more hearts (if possible!) through the magic of film, dance, and song. A true Renaissance man and indisputable triple threat, John's nimble steps and luscious tenor bewitched millions and emboldened a generation of aspiring Italian stallions.

Welcome back, your dreams were your ticket out.
Welcome back to that same old place that you laughed about.
Well the names have all changed since you hung around,
But those dreams have remained and they’re turned around.



Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back, welcome back.

My faithful readers,

Yesterday was the most horrible day ever!! My cat, Mr. Sniffles, got tangled up in my crocheting and became so frightened that he knocked over my Hummel collection, breaking some of my most precious pieces. Then, my VCR ate the tape I was using to record "Guiding Light" so I didn't get to find out what happened between Alan and Natalia. Then, as I was trying to untangle the tape, my Snappy Mackerel Casserole burned to a fiery crisp in the oven!!!!

Yes, my dear readers, it's on days like this that all I really need is some time, love, and tenderness.

When life gets me down, I pop a couple of Edy's Dibs (chocolate, of course!!!), cuddle up in my Emmett Kelly commemorative blanket, and listen to Michael Bolton's Greatest Hits on repeat until I'm lulled into sweet sedation.

Since my mother bought me this album back in '95, I've worn my way through two copies and have no plans of slowing down!! Michael is the hunk of all hunks and has the voice of an angel. Sometimes I just close my eyes and dream of running my fingers through those perfect locks (they may be shorter these days, but they're still breathtaking!!!) as I imagine that he's singing just for me.

Even though yesterday I just wanted to give up and cry (especially when trying to glue my Hummel babies back together - shattered glass is no joke!), one verse of "When A Man Loves A Woman" had me back on my feet, smiling and slow-dancing around the house.

Thank you, Michael, for bringing meaning to my life. This Hunk Friday is dedicated to you.

♥

I have a dream.

In my dream, the air is a little sweeter. People are a little nicer. Summer nights last just a little bit longer. Boston's "More Than A Feeling" is always on the radio.

And Steven Quincy Urkel is our president.

This box of Urkel-O's is a precious artifact from his 1992 campaign against such political juggernauts as then-incumbent George Herbert Walker Bush and a fresh-faced William Jefferson Clinton.

It was clear from the start that the 15-year-old Chicago native had little hope of capturing the necessary support needed to sweep the Southern states, especially after allegations surfaced that Urkel's fanatical fixation with dairy products, notably Wisconsin cheddar, was far less than innocent. By the time the public learned of his radical scientific experiments with human cloning and his culinary predilection for mice, his success was little more than a pipe dream and Urkel officially withdrew from the race.

Though the campaign ended that cold winter day, with this collectible box of Ralston Urkel-O's, the dreams of a nation - the dream of an Urkeltopia - can live on forever.

Almost, Steven.

Almost.

Overheard: Mark-Paul Gosselaar and Mario Lopez at a novelty gift shop at the Mall of America*
Lopez: Hey Preppie! ...err Mark...sorry man, old habits die hard.
Gosselaar: No worries, man. 'Sup?
Lopez: Looking at all this ALF merchandise really brings back some awesome memories. Like remember that time [inaudible]?
Gosselaar: Man, you were so waaaaaaaaaaasted!!! And you always said you wouldn't take your shirt off for less than $200 an hour.
Lopez: Yeah, like you didn't join in! Man, Tijuana has never been the same.
Gosselaar: Man, those were the days....
Lopez: Yeah, man.....
Gosselaar: It's a good thing the paparazzi wasn't like they are now - we wouldn't have gotten away with anything!
Lopez: ....
Gosselaar: Man, we woulda been toast!
Lopez: ....
Gosselaar: Mario?
Lopez: Man, you better come take a look at this....
Gosselaar: ....
Lopez: BEEFCAKES?!? Man, I thought you said no one would ever see those pictures!!
Gosselaar: (Making a 'T' with his hands) Whoa whoa whoa - TIME OUT!
Lopez: ...Uh, that doesn't work in real life, man.
Gosselaar: Aw man. That's one release form I wish I never signed. TIME IN!
Lopez: (Smacks forehead)

They might be embarrassed, but you'll be the coolest kid in school with this attractive "Saved by the Bell" lunchbox!

*May or may not be true.

In a bit of administrative news, Hunk Tuesdays have now been changed to Hunk Fridays. Really, what better way to tide our readers over until Monday? ShopWiki: the gift that keeps on giving.

This week we simply cannot get enough of things Germans love (clearly!) and so we're continuing the theme in today's post by celebrating The Man, The Legend, The Icon: David Hasselhoff. A true Renaissance man, international treasure, and perhaps the catalyst for the fall of Communism, the Hoff has delighted audiences for three decades and shows no signs whatsoever of slowing down!

In awe-struck recognition of his innumerable services to mankind and the world, we humbly recommend the perfect addition to your already extensive Hasselhoff collection: Looking For: The Best of David Hasselhoff. An ambitious task for sure, and not without flaws (as the erudite reviewer Charles Henry Higgensworth III aptly puts it, "flaws are inevitable when one takes on the impossible task of distilling Hasselhoff to a single disk. This is, after all, akin to reducing Aristotle to a lone pamphlet - nay, a matchbook cover."); however, one listen and you will be entranced beyond your wildest dreams, swept up into a whirling dervish of ecstatic delights and flights of fancy. The cover art is equally majestic: we here at ShopWiki have decorated our office with no less than 4 attractively-framed copies.

So what are you waiting for? Celebrate Hunk Friday with us by singing and dancing along to "Hot Shot City" and make every day a Hasselhoffy Day!

I'm drowning in those blue eyes - save me!!

Let your hair down baby We've been rocking all night Now the sun's coming over the hill We like to sleep all day, like to party all night Our love is like red hot steel Our love is like red hot steel Cool it down now cool it down 11 o'clock we're ready to rock 11 o'clock yeah we ready to rock

Today's post is dedicated to Patrick Swayze, ShopWiki's hunk of the week. We here at the office first took note of P.Swayz back in 1979 as a young Ace Johnson in Skatetown, U.S.A. (it's nowhere near the masterpiece that Xanadu was, but...) and have followed his career enthusiastically ever since. In fact, this year on August 18th, we even celebrated the Swayz's birthday by having his face depicted on an ice cream cake and by toasting him with our custom-made Moviemug. Patrick didn't stop by that day to join in the festivities, but we're sure somewhere, somehow, he knew he was in our hearts.

However, Patrick doesn't simply play a key role in our serveware - he also figures prominently in our wardrobes and our interior decorating. To tell the truth, if we could find more ways to decorate our lives with Swayze, why, it would be August 18th every day!

This one is for you, Patrick, and I think all of ShopWiki is behind me when I say "ditto".

I am alone in this world. Penniless, sleeping in bus stations and back alleyways, I take comfort knowing that each passing day brings me closer to the dark, cold end that waits for us all. But wait! What's this? A picture?....

I feel reborn! A man named Lorenzo has called me his friend, and life has new meaning and purpose. Thank you Mr. Lamas, wherever you are.