I never said I was normal

You lucky, lucky people.

Because we now have broadband, which means that I can now upload pictures in less than the thirty minutes it used to take me on my 31 kbps dialup, I can torture you with a journey through Strange Looking Men I Have Had Crushes On. This post was already mooching about in the back of my mind, and following my shock admission on Wyndham's comments, and the discussion on the comments over at Spinny's place that degenerated into "which Blackadder would you shag?", I've decided to come clean. If you're of a nervous disposition, or are eating, you might want to click away now. For the braver among you, join me now as we explore the darker recesses of my psyche.

1. Ed "Stewpot" Stewart

Ah, the late seventies. Fashion wasteland, TV graveyard and scene of my first celebrity crush. Those of you around my age will remember the tagline "It's Friday, it's five to five, and it's Crackerjack!". Cue half an hour or so of hyperventilating schoolchildren, Bernie Clifton and his comedy ostrich, Crackerjack pencil and pen sets and the dreamy hosting style of our Stewpot. I was only about six or seven, yet would sit transfixed as the over-coiffed, beige-clad emcee guided boy scouts through games that involved plunging their faces into blancmange and then rice krispies to retrieve something-or-other (with predictably hilarious results), thrust cabbages on hapless contestants in the gladiatorial arena of Double or Drop, and just plain exuded something that I didn't understand, but that spoke to my soul*. See also (briefly) Tony Blackburn, who I used to listen to on my black transistor radio on Saturday mornings, and who played "The Piper" by Abba for me on my eighth birthday. True, I'd written in with my own request, and he didn't read out my joke, but I loved him anyway.

2. Bernard Bresslaw

As I said over at Wyndham's, what's not to love? Cheeky, gormless Bernard was a stalwart of the Carry On films. Carry On films are of course crap, but the British love them anyway. Somehow the combination of godforsaken, rainsoaked sets, Barbra Windsor's tits, some deeply, deeply suspicious "comedy" and Sid James' gravelly, filthy laugh conspired to engrave itself in the heart of the nation. Or something. Anyway, about five years ago, I suddenly realised that Bernard Bresslaw was hot. We'll say no more about it. Let's just move along, shall we? There's nothing to see here. Except Bernard the Hottie. Oh, alright. You can gaze at him for a little while longer. Mmmmmmm....

Ahem.

3. Michael Palin

Whether he's trekking the Sahara, going around the world in eighty days, or simply leaping from tree to tree as they float down the mighty rivers of British Columbia, Michael's the man for me. In everything he's been in since Monty Python (and especially in the Holy Grail), he's been the epitome of older totty. Articulate, funny, avuncular - somehow I can't quite reconcile what everyone else sees with my secret fantasy of a four-way with him, John Cleese and Eric Idle. While Terry Jones watches, dressed as a woman.

Um.

Moving on....

4. John Goodman

I'm not sure what first attracted me to John Goodman. Was it his effortless portrayal of an overweight, henpecked Midwest family man? His mastery of the comic genre with the triumph that was "The Flinstones"? Maybe it was his piano-playing and the way he studiously ignored the complete absence of plot in "King Ralph". Whatever. All I know is that, when it comes to the sort of man I'd like to drink beer in a biker bar with, before heading back to his tenement apartment to make dark, awkward love among the cockroaches and dirty plates, John Goodman is at the top of my list. Oh. Along with number five, that is. Not that I'd do them both together or anything. One at a time would work. On separate occasions, obviously. What do you think I am? Some sort of slut, or something?

5. Jason Lee. But only as Earl Hickey

I've tried to understand what makes Jason Lee so sexy when he's playing a badly dressed, balding trailer-park loser with a handlebar mustache. I have failed. I mean, on the surface there is nothing to like. Lumberjack shirts? Timberlands? Stonewashed jeans? No thank you. But somehow, it all combines to make Earl the sexiest loser on the planet. And it's not even him, per se. I've gone back and watched Almost Famous, which features Mr Lee as a member of fictional band Stillwater, with the sort of long haired seventies guitar hero looks that would ordinarily have me drooling. And here's the thing - not a flicker. Not even remotely attractive. But as Earl? I so would.

And so would you, ladies (and pooves). Don't try and deny it.

6. Martin Clunes

Jug-eared, big-faced and a little bit sinister-looking, he may not be the obvious choice. But believe me, he is hot. About three series into Men Behaving Badly I suddenly realised that I didn't fancy Neil Morrisey any more - no, Martin Clunes was The One.

I'd still do him as well. Even taking Doc Martin into consideration. I'm not fickle, me.

7. Jack Black

One word: Sexy.

Fact.

Don't try and dissuade me on this one - the lady's not for turning. I can't justify it so I'm not even going to try. This short, fat, frog-faced little man is the best kept hot secret in Hollywood.

Watch School of Rock and tell me I'm wrong. I dare you.

8. Rowan Atkinson. But only as Blackadder series II

Now, I know I'm not alone on this one. It's probably the hardest one of all to deconstruct, because anyone who has seen Mr Bean knows that Rowan Atkinson is emphatically not knicker-dampeningly attractive. But put the man in tights, a codpiece and a ruff, add a beard that would have Noel Edmonds weeping in futile envy and bang! Sex on legs. Maybe it's his insouciant, arrogant air. Maybe it's the chemistry between him and Queenie. Maybe it is the tights. Whatever it is, it bloody well works. Woof!



So, there we have it. Eight members of a cast of, well, loads. Except I couldn't be arsed to upload any more pictures. Those not pictured here include Bill Oddie, Terry Scott (but only in Terry and June) Sergeant Cryer off of The Bill, Gene Wilder, David Essex and Barry Manilow. The human mind is a strange and oft-disturbing place, and for the sake of all your sanity, I think we'll leave it there.

Don't have nightmares.

* I may have overstated this slightly.