turnedon-badgirl

What’s turning me on this week?

Being a bad, bad girl.
Yes, my column is a few days late, but thank God I’m not. In other news: I’ve been deliciously sinful this week, and I’m not going to tell you why. Consequently, I’ve decided to re-name Memorial Day. It is now Memorial Week. Or, better yet, No Memory Week. Or, even more accurately: That Week When I Was At The Beach And “Accidentally” Spilled Cheap Vodka Into My Terminator: Salvation Commemorative Slurpee And Realized I Had Stumbled Onto Something Fantastic, So I Just Kept Doing It. For Days On End. And Now I Can’t Remember Whether I Attended A Beach Bonfire Or, Quite Possibly, May Have Thrown An Arson Party. Also I Lost My Free Willy Beach Towel.

My hedonistic goal for the beach was to commit each of the Seven Deadly Sins: Vodka, Rum, Tequila, Whiskey, Everclear, Beer, and Wine. Mission accomplished, but this type of hangover can only be called penance. So, this week, please allow me, dark sunglasses, and a big bottle of Advil to tell you what’s turning me on. And please, turn the lights out when you leave. I’ll call you tomorrow.

Envy

sins-ripley

The Talented Mr. Ripley. Matt Damon plays this part annoyingly well, and convinces me instantly that there’s something very beautiful about being a jealous psycho. Tom Ripley’s assumption of Dickie Greenleaf (Jude Law) is executed perfectly, as is the cat-and-mouse game that follows. Maybe this isn’t the perfect example, because he’s not envying the girl, but suffice it to say that, on a much saner scale, a little bit of jealousy can be a lot hot.

Gluttony

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Rusty from Ocean’s 11. Nary a scene goes by wherein Brad Pitt isn’t eating something. His sex appeal is obvious, and it’s not just his looks. His cavalier attitude — and his love of a good bag of chips — really sells me on Rusty. What can I say? I like a man that can enjoy his Doritos. And a hot dog. And some peanuts. And a club sandwich.

Pride

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Jack Donaghy, 30 Rock. I’ve been dying to write Jack Donaghy into a column. In this role, Alec Baldwin is ridiculously hot, and completely comfortable in Jack’s skin. The ultimate arrogant prick, Donaghy has become an indispensable, truly lovable character that’s integral to the current TV comedy landscape. I like a man that’s a little bit of an asshole, and Jack definitely captures this essence, and plays it up with hilarious results.

Sloth

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There can be only one. Jeffrey Lebowski. Although probably not a conventional sex symbol, everyone’s favorite stoner embodies the sin of sloth. In a comfortable way, there really is something innately sexy about this man. He smokes weed and drinks White Russians all day, he’s a bowler, and he walks around in his bathrobe. Maybe for some women that doesn’t do the trick, but The Dude had me at “I’m just gonna go find a cash machine.”

Lust

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Bond, James Bond. This one’s easy and I’ve got a headache. He’s the ultimate playboy and he certainly enjoys the ladies. Men love him, women love him — and there’s a lesson to be learned to boot. As long as a man is mostly respectful, it can be fun to know that he’s red-blooded. Could there a more sinfully handsome example of lust?

Greed

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Captain Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean. Johnny Depp! Largely absent from my previous columns only because I find it difficult to write about someone who is sexier than me, now is his moment. Captain Jack has his own brand of sexy, and at the bottom of that barrel lies treasure. It was a little off-putting, at first, to be turned on by a set of movies based off of the Disneyworld ride-you-go-on-when-Space-Mountain-has-crazy-lines, but I warmed up — uh, I mean to the idea — after about 20 minutes with this character. Men, if you wear less eyeliner and give up the tri-cornered hat (sorry, gotta do it.), adopting some of the finer points of Sparrow’s persona might drive a lady mad.

Wrath

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In a truly animalistic way, I love a man who is a fucking killing machine. But my own Seven Deadly Sins might be starting to get the better of me, and I need to lie down. Wrath is the hardest one anyway, so this is where I’ll need you to weigh in. The sexiest example of a killing machine that I can think of is Antonio Banderas in Desperado. A close second would have to be Denzel’s character in Man on Fire. Hayden Christensen as Anakin Skywalker is a great one, too. Sure, he kills a bunch of kids, but I never wanted to get busy with a Jedi until I saw him with his shirt off. I also have to give big ups to the guys in Hot Fuzz. I never thought homely, townsfolk killing Brits could be so hot. But give them an arsenal of powerful weaponry, a toothpick, and some fun handbrake action — and my heart’s all aflutter.

So, why not weigh in while I pray for my sins? This bad girl will be back to her regularly scheduled column next week.

Need relationship advice? Too bad. Bethany is terrible at relationships. But if you need sex advice, feel free to send your questions to Bethany@filmschoolrejects.com. They might just embarrassingly be featured on the site!


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