I really wouldn’t want to have to choose. *sigh*

Scary or sweet, clean or dirty, you thrill me, Sir Guy!

Damn, he does clean up well.

 

That magnificent masculine “hooter” sniffs out Eau de Forest Boy . . . poor Guy’s nose.

 

Ah, yes, Wild-Eyed Drunken Man with a Tangled Dirty Mane. My ovaries don’t work anymore and they still explode. Must. have. him. now.

 

And on the flip side, there’s that softer, sweeter Guy, with a vulnerability that just gets to me. *wibble*

 

And sometimes he’s just–scary. You don’t want to be on his bad side. And yet–he still thrills me even when his eyes go ice cold and his voice is edged in danger.

Smirking, smouldering, smug, SEXXXXXY: Naturally, It’s Guyday Friday!

And I totally agree. *thud*

NOT that I need to tell you all that.

Nobody does it better–wouldn’t you agree?

I love a wet Guy. Love, love, love . . .

And when he’s sweaty and disheveled and DIRT-TY.

Life’s unfathomable mysteries. This and why the Kardashians exist.