Thursday, July 26, 2007

HumpThursday Hottie

Howdy y’all, JA here, hoping Nat’s settling in for some much-deserved sun’n’fun as I type… I’m gonna be keeping it simple today - it's really humid in NYC right now; brain no work - and by “simple,” I mean “cheating,” because today is not Wednesday, otherwise known round these parts as Hump Day, wherein something called Hotties are presented for one’s perusing pleasure. See, I find myself caught in the gravitational pull of a marketing behemoth born from a tiny television series, once an interlude on a sketch comedy show, spun outwards and upwards into a bit of a cultural phenom, and which, quite fortuitously, is exploding on a few thousand movie screens this weekend with its first full-length motion picture... but what does all this have to do with Hotties you ask?

It has to do with the roundest, yellowest, most unexpected of Hotties – Mr. Homer Simpson.

Yes, Homer. There are other citizens of Springfield who maybe fit the Hottie bill a little more ab-tastically – Groundskeeper Willie and Ned “Feels Like I’m Wearing Nothing At All… Nothing At All…” Flanders always surprise when their shirts come off – but is there a more loveable oaf out there that makes obesity, ignorance and a routine proclivity for child abuse so damned charming? Kevin James and every other live-action fat-man-with-hot-wife sit-combo that’s come since has tried and failed to win our hearts quite like Homer.

So what is it about this bacon-grease-slurping alcoholic that never fails to shine? Is it that we know that deep down beats the heart of one of the most truly decent, loving fathers and husbands ever put onscreen? One that will do anything for his loved ones, if he has to throw himself off a cliff, a waterfall, an airplane, a ski-lift, into a pit of horny pandas… um, I could keep going… point being, he might get distracted by something shiny here and there – and therein taps into a forgotten well of glee in us all, mind you – and to be honest he's usually the one who messes things up to start with, but when it really matters Homer does right. His heart of gold may be coated with a thick layer of lard, but we end up loving the lug anyway. Surely, come this weekend, he'll be winning our hearts anew, and at forty-feet tall too.

And anyway, nobody rocks a pair of cartoon tighty-whities quite the same, either.

7 comments:

sora said...

Very... odd choice. And Flanders is abtastic to the max! If only he wasn't so devout... ;)

mikadzuki said...

o_O

norbizness said...

Of course, we could always tie it in with Homer's purported mistress/soulmate Mindy, voiced by...

JA said...

I'm always devoting blog-space to the more chiselled man-flesh out there, sora; I felt like mixing it up for once. And Homer's sweet doofusy nature makes him as hot as any piece out there, I say.

Jaydawg said...

Homer Jay Simpson is the sexiest human being alive, period. No one compares to that tank.

Neel Mehta said...

"Look at that flubber fly!"

norbizness said...

The amount of body hair he has does seem to vary, though. When Marge is composing her resume to get a job at the nuclear power plant, Lisa suggests "care and feeding of large mammals" as a line to use. The scene then cuts to Homer, with unusually hairy back and hamstrings, asking her where his lunchbox is.