Mama Likes The Dirty, Dirty Boys

Is it wrong that I find Gerard Butler, in this picture, unspeakably hot?

Okay, I find Gerard Butler unspeakably hot most of the time, but this particular image of him - flipping off some paparazzo on New Year's Eve is particularly yummy. There's just something about a slightly angry, slightly unkempt hot man expressing his frustration with the world that gets me going.

(Sadly, that principle applies itself only variably to my husband, who, although undeniably hot and certainly of equal or superior man-quality to Gerard Butler, more often than not fails to excite me with his petty frustrations, if only because they are, to my mind, petty, whereas Gerard Butler's frustrations are, I'm sure, of a more exotic order - involving paparazzi or war-hungry Spartans - and so more likely to excite lust than eye-rolling. Such are the vagaries of modern marriage. Which is why they invented celebri-hotties like Gerard Butler - to stoke the imaginations of happily married but bored mothers.

Sometimes I am such a cliche that I just want to vomit into my KitchenAid Artisan Mixer.)

Where was I? Right. Gerard Butler all angry, flexing his middle finger: HOT.

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