"Surely this will cure him of his love of cinemas."--MST3K, "Overdrawn at the Memory Bank"
We've all seen articles on it by this time--yes, Dan Radcliffe is going to be performing NUDE in Equus. Interesting career move--I mean, you can become a well-rounded actor without resorting to the sensational and the risque--particularly as an underage wizard. All I remember from when I read Equus years ago is that it is an unpleasantly tense play in which Radcliffe's stablehand character ultimately stabs out the horses' eyes. Hope that's not too much of a spoiler for anyone dying to see it, but there you are.
His photos on the Leaky Cauldron revealed a skinny, blindingly pale boy with a decent haircut and (surprisingly) hairy chest. Of course, while I still feel intensely postpartum and wouldn't know sexual attraction if it bit me on the ankle and then judo-flipped me into a pile of stale, sweaty cardboard boxes in a dark alley somewhere, I still think there was not much of the intensely sexual about these much-hyped images, unless you're a human-interested equine looking for a trans-species experience. That doesn't mean nine million teenage girls aren't going to turn them into Windows wallpaper, however.
I'm at the stage of life where adventures in nudity pretty much extend to occasionally taking a hot cup of coffee into the shower in the morning.
Anyway, I've gotten into the questionably bad habit of watching Diagnosis Murder again, as well as Charlie's Angels on (later) nite tv. Tonight's DM featured Doc Sloan crossdressing, which I found amply disturbing, while an aggressive yet incompetent Scott Baio blundered back and forth trying to find the killer. CA began as it usually does--with a fat '70s car squealing its tires around a corner--but I stopped watching it after that.
His photos on the Leaky Cauldron revealed a skinny, blindingly pale boy with a decent haircut and (surprisingly) hairy chest. Of course, while I still feel intensely postpartum and wouldn't know sexual attraction if it bit me on the ankle and then judo-flipped me into a pile of stale, sweaty cardboard boxes in a dark alley somewhere, I still think there was not much of the intensely sexual about these much-hyped images, unless you're a human-interested equine looking for a trans-species experience. That doesn't mean nine million teenage girls aren't going to turn them into Windows wallpaper, however.
I'm at the stage of life where adventures in nudity pretty much extend to occasionally taking a hot cup of coffee into the shower in the morning.
Anyway, I've gotten into the questionably bad habit of watching Diagnosis Murder again, as well as Charlie's Angels on (later) nite tv. Tonight's DM featured Doc Sloan crossdressing, which I found amply disturbing, while an aggressive yet incompetent Scott Baio blundered back and forth trying to find the killer. CA began as it usually does--with a fat '70s car squealing its tires around a corner--but I stopped watching it after that.