Imported Poems

Since I haven't anything positive to say or write, I figured I'd spend some time making fun of the man I love to hate/hate to love. After all, he makes me miserable and absolutely happy simultaneously - what a talent!

Right now my favorite gentleman is in England doing a play for two months - consequently, "the caterpillar". Yes, he looks like a sleazy Mr. Rogers, or more aptly put "Mr. Rogers Does Dallas - the gay 70's section".

His talent for acting (despite what nay-sayers say) lies in his endless repertoire of facial expressions, and his ability to channel emotion in his face. At that, he's as good as Depp or anybody else.

Here, however, it seems the pressure of the play *might* be getting to him. I fear he might be headed for a breakdown:



I think he might be a bit "too happy" for his own good (notice the weak wrist, anyone?)



I wonder what kind of bar he was leaving. Mr. Pink Shirt hasn't been with him for the past few days. I wonder if he got dumped - poor guy! "Bruce" probably made the big mistake of saying the L word. The L word is acceptable only in a maternal/paternal sense:



He gives girls the thumb and the tongue alot because he knows it drives them wild:





Only a man this sexy could make scratching his head sexy:



And yes, I've noticed there's not much to behold down South, but I'd love him the same if he were castrated, a hermaphrodite or a woman. Some things transcend sexuality.