random pics etc

Some random shots of myself, Mo, and Anderson Cooper.

The ones of Mo were used for the plain-face hot or not experiment, in which very few of my friends are willing to participate, for whatever reason. She, for the record, received an even 5 rating on the 1-10 scale. Eve closed at a 9.2 and yours truly raked in a 5.1.

We should subtract 1 from each rating to give us an out-of-9 rating, as the 1-10 scale is rather misleading. This puts the tally at:
Eve: 8.2
Mo: 4
Me: 4.1

Assuming that Eve is as a beautiful an un-made-up, unaccessorised, neutral expression face can get, that means that I actually have a natural facial beauty score of 4.1/8.2, or a convenient 50%. Monique is slightly lower, at 4/8.2, or approximately 49%.

As far as body-attractiveness goes, this is slightly more difficult to measure. The best and simplest I can come up with is--and I know how unscientific this is, but whatever--giving a 100% for anyone who has a "healthy" BMI, which is 18.5 - 24.9. As I am a 21.8 or so, and Monique is 21.7, let's just give us a 100% on the body thing.

I guess points should be deducted for any physical deformities, extreme shortness or tallness, and very small or very large breasts--let's say a green card goes to anyone with B or C cup breasts. But now, as you've probably noticed, my attempt at objectivity has become highly subjective guesswork, so maybe we'll just stick with BMI. For now. If we do that, that would give me a 150/200 score, and Mo a 149/200, which are 75% and 74.5% respectively. Solid B-s all around. I can live with that.

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In more subjectivity-laden news, Mike turned out to be a douchebag. Or at least too much of a douchebag for me to develop any long-lasting feelings of intimacy or eros. For one, he --and keep in mind he was sober the night we went out -- had no recollection of touching my buttocks. This came out in a not-quite-but-almost flirtatious e-mail correspondence that took place on Friday. Also in this correspondence, he half-heartedly asked what I was doing over the week-end, and gave me his number with instructions to call if I was "headed out or looking for something to do." Can you say "Cary Grant"?

I replied that I was very busy that week-end, but that he would be welcome to join myself and a few friends to see Knocked Up, and asked him if he would like to go. I closed with my phone number. He neither replied to my e-mail nor called.

Monique is "worried" about me, given that I have this pattern for becoming obsessed with emotionally stunted and generally immature men. I agree. I'm taking active steps to break this habit. Really.