It’s been a Disney week chez Ro’mama. The baby DD had a band trip to Orlando, and the big girl and DH signed on as chaperones. Yes, a 19 year old chaperone – my DD’s will do anything for a trip to Mouse City.
So over the days preceding said journey, we revisited a few of our favorite movies – Bambi, Haunted Mansion, and enough princesses to drive Philip Treacy to suicide. But the one that does it for me, as an Historical Romance fanatic, is that storehouse of Masculine Pulchritude, Pirates of the Caribbean. Oooh, hot sweaty British guys on tropical islands . . . .Well, let’s just say it’s a Disney movie for the man candy maniacs out there. (That would be all of us, dear reader.)
Now, I’ve always thought Johnny Depp just a wee bit skinny for my tastes, although he has a talent for some serious smolder – didn’t we all wanna run away and cook nasty meat pies with him in Sweeney Todd? And in Pirates, with that drugged-out rock star vibe going on – Well, skinny ain’t always bad. Maybe I need to invite him over for Wetsday soon.
But our guest of the week, for sheer masculine gorgeousness, stood out even amongst Mr. Depp and a flock of sweaty guys in British Nsvy uniforms. You all know him as Legolas, whose long silky hair we’d all love to run our fingers through, In Troy, he rocked the Greek look, and he’ll soon be appearing as the Duke of Buckingham in a new production of The Three Musketeers. Ladies, I’m telling you, in historical costume dramas, his swash never buckles!
But , lddies (and gentlemen if you swing that way), I have to brag that I have a very close and personal relationship with Mr. Bloom. We’re practically best buds, he and I. Call each other up at three in the morning. That kind of friend.
You see, back in my younger days, I was attorney for none other than one of the real life Black Hawk down guys, a native of Pensacola, who was (get ready for this!) actually portrayed in the movie by Mr. Bloom! I actually hugged the shoulders that had hugged Orlando Bloom!!!! That is just one degree of Orlando Bloom right there. See how close we are?!?
Well, okay, maybe he hasn’t called me at three in the morning to complain about Miranda’s snoring. But I can still enjoy nice wet photos like these . . .