One of many, many wonderful things about Roadtripper, Andrea, and I's island theory is that the hot men on our island, are always hot. Even, if in reality, they no longer are. A main case point is Val Kilmer:
Needless to say, he does not look like this anymore. I will not assault your eyes with visual proof, just take my word for it. But I don't have to worry, in my mind and on the island he is always Jim Morrison:
Hell, I even got a kick out of him as a tweaked out meth head in The Salton Sea:
He could turn into a late life Marlon Brando for all I care, Val Kilmer will always be my king, and on the island he can always be Iceman.
I used to drool over Russell Crowe. Seriously. I spent my multiple viewings of Gladiator making lewd comments.
Russell Crowe (as Maximus): Are you not entertained?
Me (on my couch): I would be more entertained if you took some clothes off.
Russell Crowe (as Maximus): My name is Gladiator.
Me: No... your name is Roadtripper's bitch. Take thee to my bedroom.
It is a sickness, I realize.
Being a Russell Crowe freak used to be easy. Most of his movies kicked ass, and even though his ego is about as large as the continent he hails from, the man actually does have serious acting chops.
Then he had to go get married. And got a little chubby. And started bitching about the pressures of Hollywood. And started hurling phones at people's heads.
And then Roadtripper kind of lost interest. Her sexy gladiator had become a bitchy middle-aged family man.
Yummy!Not so yummy. Check please!
But I still love him (as long as him = the him from ten years ago). Welcome to the island, Russell Crowe. Just try to stay away from the phone.