Happy Friendiversary!

For this third year of knowing Rachel and Kelsey, I present our Friendiversary as told through Titanic gifs because why not.



Before I met Rachel and Kelsey, something in my life was missing.



But then one night I went to The Hudson and met these awesome girls. Oh The Hudson! I can't drive by it without getting nostalgic.



Anyway, back to the story. At first, I felt a little shy around these gorgeous, outgoing, whip-smart, hilarious ladiez. But soon enough, I was having the time of my life. I was falling in love.



Remember that horrible Australian bartender who refused to tend the bar, because he wasn't getting great tips on $3 well specials? He was the worst AMIRITE?!



But in a way he did us a favor, because we all bonded when we reacted with the same sense of righteous indignation.



The haters (*cough* BOBBIE *cough*) thought we wouldn't last. We didn't let the haters get us down.



We've had three years of activities (so much space for activities!), of Hudson happy hours, TNDs, and so much more. Three years and still together. And, because WE became friends, our friends became friends, creating the glorious hivemind we share today. Three years and counting, Paloozers!



I will love you and alI our friends always, and look back on that night with a deep happiness. I promise.



Finally, our 3rd Friendiversary in brief.

Top Ten Hottest Fictional Men, As Compiled With Yanna

As I haven't posted in two months, it seemed only appropriate that I re-begin with something as trivial as possible: a completely arbitrary ranking of fictional characters based on my own bizarre personal preferences. Give me credit, at least, for the bounty of evidence I provide for each. The list is sub-divided into four categories, for a semblance of order: books, TV, film, and animated characters. Yanna and I were both a bit surprised at the high volume of hand-drawn hotties, but we think that our results are accurate and conclusive. As literature is technically the most cerebral, intellectual category I can start with, we'll begin with the absolute hottest characters ever committed to page. Ladies, enjoy, and Yanna, rejoice.

Literary Lady-killers

1. Grigoriy Alexsandrovich Pechorin (A Hero Of Our Time by Mikhail Lermontov, 1841). England, keep your Heathcliffes and Rochesters. France, save Edmond Dantès and...whoever else you've got. Because Russia is the true bastion of fictional male hotness, and this is epitomized in Pechorin. Oh sure, there are other hopefuls -- Count Vronsky from Anna Karenina, Prince Andrei from War and Peace, Eugene Onegin, the list goes on -- but Pechorin is the fucking shit. He is rash, impulsive, brilliant, nonchalant, nihilistic, remote, cold, manipulative, and rarely gives a shit about anyone but himself. He is the baddest of the bad boys, and that is sexy. Not only does he kill a guy in a duel, but he manipulates the circumstances so he is guaranteed a win. Callous, and hot. Perhaps others would find Pechorin's remoteness, broodiness, and cruelty repulsive, but sometimes that irrepressible rebelliousness and savagery can be undeniably attractive. (See: 3. Northman, Eric.)

2. Mr. Darcy (Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, 1813). I tried my best to avoid this most obvious choice, but Mr. Darcy's appearance on this list is inevitable. We all know it, I'm just admitting it. As anyone who has ever read or seen Pride and Prejudice will know, Mr. Darcy is an uptight pompous prick. At least at first. But he reveals that his dickishness is all just an act, to hide his true feelings for Elizabeth. Perhaps what appeals to every woman about Mr. Darcy is that we all secretly hope that the objects of our affections ignore us or treat us meanly because they, like, actually love us. He's the boy in kindergarten that kicked you in the shins at recess or put glue in your hair because he liked you. Note, however, that little Billy McKindergarten was not an aristocratic landowner with a stunning estate that occupies a good chunk of the north of England. Authors the world over would exploit the Darcy template for years to come; Darcys abound in everything from Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Angel) to Twilight (Edward Cullen). But, don't blame Jane Austen for the Twilight pussy sparklevamp fiasco. That Stephenie Meyer would exploit Austen's hottest creation to appease hormone-riddled tweens isn't Jane's fault.


Small-Screen Sexiness

3. Eric Northman (Alexander Skarsgard, True Blood, HBO, 2008). Technically, Eric can be classified under both TV and literature, but we can all agree that the Sookie Stackhouse novels, while a fun read, won't be taught to unappreciative high-schoolers in a hundred years. Anyway, let us review Eric. Ever since Bram Stoker's publication of Dracula in the late 19th century, ladies the world over have devoted themselves to worshipping the hotness of vampires. There have been so many delicious vamps; runners-up Angel and Spike from Buffy come to mind especially. What makes Eric the best of all is that he is a Viking vampire. A fucking VIKING I say. Even when he was alive, he could annihilate those lame Cullens with his Viking ship and battle-axe and whatnot. The current generation of Broody McEyebrows vamps (see Twilight and Vampire Diaries) would piss their pants at the very sight of him, if they had bodily functions. Eric exudes power, masculinity, authority, virility, and badassery with even the slightest facial expression. Also in his favor: black racer-back tank tops, and that scene with Sookie in Book Four. Find it online, it's worth the spoiler. Man it is going to be a long nine months without True Blood; damn you HBO.

4. Horatio Hornblower (Ioan Gruffudd, the Horatio Hornblower miniseries, A&E, 1998-2003). I'm sorry ladies, but you don't know hotness until you see Horatio kick some French ass in the face of impossible odds. Horatio Hornblower is a miniseries adapted from a truly yawn-inducing set of books by Englishman C.S. Forester. (I tried to read them in the vain hope that Horatio's hotness would translate to the page, but after the umpteenth mention of hard tack, Lord Nelson, and Napoleon, one loses patience.) The series follows young officer Horatio Hornblower from his beginnings in the Royal Navy at the outset of the Napoleonic Wars to his first command. Considering the societal notions of propriety at the time, the miniseries finds Horatio removing his shirt rather often, usually to do something heroic like dive underwater to check for hull damage or put out a fire on deck. This culminates in a nude deck shower in 2001's "Mutiny." Even clothed, however, Horatio fully deserves to make this list. In 1998's "The Examination for Lieutenant," for example, he single-handedly saves most of the English fleet on a break from a test. All the rest of us could accomplish on an exam break would be smoking a cigarette. I could go on listing Horatio's episodes of heroic hotness, but it would take all night. In the interest of expedience, take my word for it that Horatio Hornblower deserves to be on the list. And Netflix the miniseries; you won't be disappointed. (The early ones are great, but I find the 2001 "Mutiny"/"Retribution" story to be the most engaging and character-driven. Plus, it features runner-up Apollo from BSG.)

Film Foxes

5. Han Solo and Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford, Star Wars Episodes IV and V and the Indiana Jones trilogy, respectively). In spite of the fact that my only previous post on this blog served to highlight their differences, it was too difficult to pick which Harrison Ford leading man is the hottest. After all, Han and Indy both share a certain irreverence, a penchant for rule-breaking, ruggedness, smugness, and disrespect for authority. And, most importantly, a sense of badassery. Nothing says attractive quite like downing TIE fighters with an arrogant smirk, or shooting an overly-elaborate Arab swordsman in the chest. Whether he is slicing open Tauntauns or punching Nazis in the face, the 1970s/80s incarnations of Harrison Ford are a watershed for cinematic male hotness. **Author's Note: the discerning reader will notice that both Return of the Jedi and Kingdom of the Crystal Skull were left off this list. The first was disqualified due to Han's general wussification, farting around Endor letting Care Bears do his dirty work. The second is omitted because Indy looked approximately nine years older than that knight at the end of Last Crusade.**

6. Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp, Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, 2003). Though he was still scrumptious in those godforsaken sequels (he was really their only redeeming quality), the first Pirates film really encapsulates Captain Jack's hotness. Like almost every other man on this list, Jack has a penchant for rule-breaking, but the difference is his specific manner of insubordination. He lulls his unsuspecting adversaries --  Commodore Snorrington, Dillweed Turner, Squiddy McTentacles, Lord Cutler Mr. Collins, to name a few -- into a false sense of security before setting into motion a brilliant, elaborate plan. Just when they think he is cornered, marooned, even dead, Jack comes back in fighting form with more than a few witticisms in tow. Underestimate Captain Jack as a rum-swilling do-nothing at your own peril. Some Jack detractors (how do they exist?) think he is unsuitable for lists such as these because he is not interested in the ladyfolk. Obviously this is untrue, given Keira Knightley, the Orbitz gum pirate wench and her cohort, but he is certainly the 18th-century equivalent of metro. If I had to guess, I think our Jacky is bi, and ain't nothin' wrong with that. In conclusion, if Johnny Depp wearing eyeliner is wrong, then I don't want to be right.

Hand-Drawn Hotties

7. Dimitri (voiced by John Cusack, Anastasia, 1997). In an inevitable turn of events, another Russian appears on the list: Dimitri from the 1997 20th Century Fox film Anastasia. Like Pechorin, he's quite the Russian bad boy: he spends the majority of the movie running a long con to deceive both Anastasia and her grandmother, for a payoff, naturally. Going after grandma is almost as cold as cheating at a duel, and man does it make Dimitri hot. The difference between Dimitri and Pechorin, though, is that Dimitri is a reformed bad boy, who refuses thousands of roubles and his dignity to win back the princess. At some point, I think we've all secretly wanted to be that one girl who can inspire a boy to be a man, an asshole to be a nice guy. Of course in real life, this never happens. People change only if they want to, and trying to mold someone into your ideal will never work. (College is chock-full of these life lessons, I've found.) Anyway, Dimitri appeals to this naive hope, and plus, he is voiced by John Cusack. And is muscular. And Russian. Screw anachronism, Dimitri is hot.

8. Aladdin (self-explanatory). Oh, Aladdin. You were the first one to teach my five-year-old heart love. Or at least, how to crush on someone/something that isn't real, which is a lesson still to be unlearned. I dare any girl in our generation to say they didn't have a crush on Aladdin. Fuck, I'll even give them three wishes, because I know it is impossible not to love Aladdin. Besides the obvious appeal of the rags-to-riches tale (and his open vest, natch) the root of Aladdin's hotness is his smarts. What is great about Aladdin is that he is clever, quick on his feet, and won't take no for an answer. Starving and poor? Steal from a douchebag, and give half your meal to a hungry street urchin. In love with the unattainable princess? Win her heart not with the aid of a genie, but with honesty, perseverance, and cleverness. Giant magical serpent killing your buzz? Taunt it into submssion. His unique mix of wit and determination is what makes Aladdin stand out amongst most of the other stable of Disney men. Ladies, I think we can agree that if a genie were to grant us three wishes, our first order of business would be to make Aladdin real.

9. Captain Shang (voiced by B.D. Wong and Donny Osmond, Mulan, 1998). There are many things that justify Captain Shang's presence on this list. His buffness, fighting prowess, and strict authority are all crucial qualifiers. But my favorite quality about Captain Shang is that he's a feminist, and that is sexy. It isn't enough that his entire regiment's collective asses are saved by Mulan; it's that he actually believes in her. Sure, he is beyond pissed when he finds out she was lying to him about being a woman, but let us remember he was probably in a state of massive sexual confusion at that point. What is important is that he can man up, put aside his frustration, and let Mulan call the shots when the Emperor is captured. Rather than whine and bitch and be in denial about how a chick is doing better than him, he appreciates Mulan's strengths and respects her. They become a perfect team. To me, at least, this is the ideal relationship that Disney ought to always sell; it sure beats the prince-and-damsel meme. Also, bonus points because when I IMDb'd this tonight, I discovered that the voice actor is none other than Dr. Huang from SVU. Considering that crime procedural is my favorite TV comfort food, B.D. Wong's involvement with Captain Shang makes me do a happy dance, and cancels out any mention of crapness from Donny Osmond's involvement.

10. The Beast (Beauty and the Beast, 1991). I was twelve years old when my little sister was born. As she started to grow, she naturally started to watch Disney movies, and I got to watch along with her. As a (quasi) grown-up, I saw a lot of things the second time around that I didn't see the first. Peter Pan's insane racism, Dumbo's very obvious acid trip, and Pinocchio's moralizing come to mind. But what I noticed most significantly was the insane hotness of the Beast. "But," you might say, "he's covered in fur and has fucking horns." I implore you to be like Belle and look past the Beast's appearances, to see the hotness lurking within. First, there's that temper. Then, there's the constant self-sacrifice. But what I love about the Beast is that no matter how many wolves he kills or big-chinned Frenchmen he throws off of cliffs, he's just a big ol' softie at heart. The scene where he gives Belle the library, the moment that he fucks up on eating the porridge, when he gives Belle the mirror -- it's impossible not to swoon a bit. I always am a little disappointed when he turns back into a human at the end; there's no way he can have that wonderful mix of badassery and sweetness if he doesn't have horns. But if Belle's happy, then I'm happy. (Another surprise about voice acting: I never knew this, but Lumiere was voiced by Law and Order vet Jerry Orbach. Perhaps Disney requires indentured servitude in the form of animated films before actors can move on to crime procedural franchises?)

Honorable mentions:  

Rhett Butler (Gone With The Wind), Angel and Spike (Buffy the Vampire Slayer), Simba (The Lion King), Helo and Apollo (Battlestar Galactica), Chuck Bass (Gossip Girl), Heath Ledger's Gabriel Martin (The Patriot), Sawyer (Lost), John Smith (the Disney Pocahontas), and Cillian Murphy's Jim (28 Days Later..). Google Image to your heart's content.

Character Combat #1: Han Solo vs. Indiana Jones

Once in a great while, the movie-going and tv-watching public is graced with an actor so brilliant (or so godawful) that his legend cannot be contained in one character. So this week, we start with the ultimate nerd showdown: Harrison Ford vs. himself. Specifically, which character is more full of WIN: Han Solo or Indiana Jones? Five rounds determine the answer:

Round 1: Badassery.

One of the only characters in modern cinema that would be able to show up Han Solo in a game of badassery would be Indiana Jones. So let us first review the epic ownage of Indy. At most recent count, Indy has punched, killed, incapacitated, and generally humiliated thousands upon thousands of Nazis, if not the entire Third Reich. Well, there may not be a specific number to go off of, but Dr. Jones foiled not only der Führer's dreams of immortality, but kept him from harnessing the power of the Ark of the Covenant (imagine what a slap in the face that would have been to the Jews). And come on, you have to admire the cojones of a man who would show up to a party looking like this, and keep a straight face:

So it would take a great deal of skill to best Indiana Jones. Luckily, Han Solo has mad skillz in spades. If you thought it took balls to infiltrate the Nazi regime, it requires a truly remarkable pair of testicles to smuggle spices for Jabba the Hutt under the very nose of the Empire. While Indy only has to contend with one foe per film, Han has to elude the capture of the clumsy yet lethal Imperial forces while still avoiding bounty hunters intent on a handsome reward. (Oh yes, Han is one handsome reward all right.)

Back on topic, Han has to multitask while still thinking of inventive ways to help out the sometimes hapless Rebels. Where would the Rebellion be if he hadn't saved Luke's whiny ass on the Death Star trench run in A New Hope? How would the Rebels and Luke have fared if he hadn't cleverly unwrapped that Tauntaun's innards like an early Christmas present for his fallen Jedi comrade? And shit, even when he was blind, Han managed to dispatch the dreaded Boba Fett into the Sarlacc pit, guaranteeing that Kiwi-accented bounty hunter decades of digestive torture. And let us not forget he shot Greedo in the freaking face before that green, bugeyed little fuckwad could even flinch. (Yes, Han shot first. Don't argue. It's useless.) And while Indy's primary weapon, the bullwhip, can serve many badass functions, there's just no match for a good blaster at your side.

Round 1 winner: Han. Score: Indy (0) - Han (1). 

Round 2: Chix. 

In order to properly assess the category, one must take into account both quality and quantity when it comes to the women of Harrison Ford. Let us pick up where we left off, with Han's badassery, as it leads to this very topic: Leia. It takes a lot of gall to think that a lowly Corellian smuggler like Han Solo could ever snag a Princess, and a gorgeous, clever one at that. But in the first two movies, Han uses his trademark cockiness and charm to seduce one of the Rebels' greatest weapons. And nothing says WIN quite like the "I love you" -- "I know" sequence that caps off the sexual tension of The Empire Strikes Back. But unfortunately, it is a downward spiral from there. Han spends a great deal of Return of the Jedi sulking about in a forest filled with poorly-outfitted CareBears, wasting possible ass-kicking time on guilt-tripping Leia about her concern for Luke. (Though I would likely sulk too if the chick I dig kissed her brother.) In the novels after the film, which I can't bring myself to read (but dutifully Wookieepedia'd), they get married and punch out a bunch of kids. One of which is a Sith. So in the long run, Han does not come out on top. Pun mildly intended.

In contrast to Han's monogamy, Indy's trilogy -- I like to pretend Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is an elaborate hoax -- sees so many different women, you would start to think it's a grittier, actually watchable James Bond movie, sans crappy puns. Raiders of the Lost Ark features Marion Ravenwood, who can run a Tibetan bar and wear an elaborate white dress in the Sahara with equal aplomb. She is one of the only fictional Lucasfilm women who would be able to own Leia in a barfight. Plus one for Indy. But then we have an entire film filled with the soothing sound of Kate Capshaw's incessant shrieking; a Temple of Doom indeed. I've heard more pleasant crooning in the torture scenes in Alias. So minus one for Indy. So Dr. Jones's chix issue becomes make-or-break with the The Last Crusade's love interest, the Austrian archaeologist Dr. Ilsa Schneider. A welcome relief from Kate Capshaw's screaming fits, Ilsa doesn't wet her pants at the sight of rats or have a Southern belle fainting spell at the mention of danger. Unfortunately, this fearlessness stems from her being a Nazi. It's rare, though, that anyone can get the better of not one, but two, Dr. Joneses, and she does meet with a deservedly sticky end.

Round 2 winner: Indy. Score: Indy (1) - Han (1).

Round 3: Friends.


We all get by with a little help from our friends; even the most flawless iteration of Harrison Ford wouldn't be able to go it alone. In the first and last movie of the Indiana Jones trilogy, our favorite archaeologist is aided in his quests by University colleague Marcus Brody and the Cairo-based Sallah. (Wait, do the films actually ever explain what Sallah does for a living? Does he have a 9-5?) Sallah is pretty damn helpful; not only can he dig for the Well of Souls, but he can even barter for camels and horses at the very last minute to attack a Nazi onslaught in the desert. (Although his brother-in-law is going to be PISSED about those camels.) Marcus Brody, on the other hand, is a well-meaning but hapless fellow who wouldn't recognize a Nazi assassin if he walked up to him and said "Guten Tag!" Both Marcus Brody and Sallah, are absent, though, from Temple of Doom, so Indy is forced to pal around with this lucky little small fry (above). Come on Indy, couldn't you at least chill with someone your own age? It's only a matter of time before Benson and Stabler bust down your door and start asking some tough questions.

It isn't that hard, then, to best Indy when it comes to the friendship question; but even if Dr. Jones had some really enviable BFFs, he would not be able to best Han Solo's posse. Han's strength lies specifically in one very loyal, very strong, very statuesque walking carpet: Chewbacca. Nothing says BFF quite like having a seven-foot-tall warrior owing you a life debt. It is especially convenient to have a friend so powerful and violent that he would rip off his opponent's arms if he lost at chess. Chewy can repair droids, fly the Millennium Falcon, choke a very douchey Lando Calrissian, and give quite the bearhug. Yes, this is someone you want to have at your slumber party. It also doesn't hurt that Han's other best friend is the last surviving Jedi in the galaxy.

Round 3 winner: Han. Score: Indy (1) - Han (2).

Round 4: Enemies.

Perhaps even more important than your friends are your enemies, and both Han and Indy face off against some terrifying foes. While the Empire is an insanely powerful military force, what they have in quantity, they certainly lack in quality. Stupidity seems endemic to the Empire no matter the rank. From the the stormtroopers who couldn't hit the broadside of a barn to the moron Star Destroyer commander who arrogantly crows "Our first catch of the day!" before promply being incapacitated by an ion cannon above Hoth, the Empire is not renowned for its tactics and strategy. The only smart, formidable villain in the Imperial Forces is a black-clad asthmatic with a grudge and a flair for drama. Han could use an entire garrison of stormtroopers just for target practice, or even order them to do the cancan in their underwear. And those dumb sods, rather than question it, would just say "where's the boombox?"

Indy, however, has bigger fish to fry than some plastic-clad losers with a penchant for unquestioning obedience. In not one, but two films, he must square off against the most recognizably evil villains of the 20th century: the Nazis. While their aim is no better than an Imperial stormtrooper's, at least their higher-ups have a few smarts. Ilsa Schneider is able to play both Indy and his father like a freaking Mozart piece, and through her cleverness, nearly succeeds in attaining the Holy Grail. (Austrians do love their Mozart.) And while the Nazis are very obviously evil, it is those they recruit that turn out to be the most dangerous. In Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indy's longtime French rival Belloq turns to his German neighbors in his single-minded quest to unearth the Ark of the Covenant; in The Last Crusade, that rich American dude reveals himself to be a dirty turncoat and shoots Sean Connery. No one, and I mean no one, can get away with shooting Sean Connery. We don't even have to get into the Kali cult from Temple of Doom; it doesn't get more evil than ritual human sacrifice and child enslavement.

Round 4 winner: Indy. Score: Indy (2) - Han (2).


Round 5 tiebreaker: Day job.

Yes, watching the exploits of our Harrison Ford heroes is a thrilling venture. But what do they do when they're not busy kicking the shit out of rival archaeologists and dispatching TIE fighters? Dr. Jones spends his days teaching at Marshall College, doing his best to avoid the swarm of coeds who wouldn't mind doing some digging of their own at Indy's geological sites. It is clear that Dr. Jones isn't too fond of his role as an educator; his lectures are only slightly more thrilling than reruns of the Antiques Roadshow, and it takes him months to actually grade a paper or exam. Plus, he is stuck with goofy glasses that would make Harry Potter blush.

Then, we have Han Solo, whose day at the office looks like this. Han's smuggling career takes him traveling to the farthest reaches of the galaxy with his best friend, while sticking it to the clueless Imperial forces he constantly evades. This is the man whose job allowed him the creativity to discover how to do the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs. Sure, there are more occupational hazards with smuggling than with teaching; if you dump your cargo at the first sign of trouble, you will have a bounty hunter that will want to drop your lifeless body on Jabba the Hutt's doorstep. There's a lot more excitement in intragalactic smuggling, though, than sitting on your ass with a cushy tenure at Marshall U. And instead of having to deal with the morning commute, Han  pilots the Millennium Falcon. The MILLENNIUM FALCON. It is clear who wins this round.

Round 5 winner: Han. Final score: Indy (2) - Han (3).

Great, kid. Now don't get cocky.