Hot Men Holding Pugs: Back off, Ladies-- This One's Mine.

I have some good news—last week’s groveling to Ted Danson worked! Well, sort of. My friend has one more interview on Monday with the organization I bribed—nay, pandered to heavily last week. The only catch: she’s having an embarrassment of riches, as she got two other job offers this week in New York and is now in the bind of having to give word on those before finishing the interview for the job down here. It’s the most unenviable of enviable positions. As much as I want her down here, the other job she’s considering in New York is a great opportunity. I’m just really happy to see that she’s got some bright spots on her horizon.

Since last week worked out pretty well, I’ve now decided to appeal to the Gods of DC and have this week’s Hot Man Holding a Pug be a Native Son—or practically as much of one as you can be in DC. Pretty much no one who lives here is a “native”. It’s true—you’re an old-timer if you’ve been here three years or longer. When you meet a local, they actually introduce themselves as “….and I’m from here, from here.” So let us begin.

The Cherry Blossom Festival is going on for a few more days here, and peak was last week. If you haven’t seen it before, the city is beautiful. Everything’s pink, fluffy, and smells fresh and clean. Save for riding the train when there’s 8 million tourists and Metro decides to cut down on service because Congress is in recess, I really love this time of year.

Last weekend, my friend took pictures of The Human Male, Alice, and me by the marina with the cherry blossoms. After looking through the ones she sent, I realized we have one in the deck that’s a real winner.

Without further ado: ladies and gentleman, behold this week’s Hot Man Holding a Pug(gle)… it’s The Human Male!

Okay, so he’s not technically holding her, but let’s not forget the real point of this feature: gawking at hot men.

And obviously, The Human Male is quite the looker. You have to be looking at an entirely different website not to be able to tell. Even with his face squinched up, dog tongue affixed to his forehead (a normal position for The Human Male and Alice), you can still see the preternatural handsomeness that has caused Daniel Craig, Brad Pitt, Taye Diggs, George Clooney, Anderson Cooper, and Ted Danson to form a club called “We’re Threatened by The Human Male’s Gorgeousness” (WTTHMG).

Never heard of WTTHMG? Well, let me tell you about them, then. WTTHMG has weekly meetings, wherein they drink gin gimlets, have their Valentino suits altered, and do the twist in their nouveau-1950’s style bachelor pad clubhouse, all while talking about how to keep The Human Male from ruining their livelihoods.

They’ve failed in many ways. For example, they have been unable to have our apartment complex close the gym "for renovations", so The Human Male has been able to maintain his glorious physique. They have also been unable to deactivate his Metro card, so I can gallivant all around town, wearing him as arm candy.

Unfortunately, three of their campaigns have been successful:

1. They have convinced all grocery stores in the area except for one not to carry tamarind paste, so he can’t always make his legendary Pad Thai. And for the one store that does carry it, WTTHMG buys it all out every week.

2. They are in cahoots with the editors at People and have persuaded them not to crown him the Sexiest Man Alive.

3. They have secretly flown in thousands of additional people to apply for all of the jobs to which he’s applied in town, which has exhausted HR people in organizations and companies throughout DC and have caused them to start choosing their new employees by pasting resumes to the wall and throwing a dart.

I’m working on a Plan B for #1 (as shaking my fist at the store shelf hasn't been effective to date) and I have my people calling People right now, but I think #3 might need a little extra help. This is where DC fits in.

Thus, let the groveling begin:

Dear Washington, DC:

I hope this letter finds you well, with a manageable amount of tourists, tolerable humidity and a few days free of politicians.

I know you're a fan of Alice's blog, and you've probably heard of the Hot Men Holding Pugs Friday Feature. In previous posts, the Chosen One has been what some may call "super-delicious".

Sure, a pretty face goes a long way. But really: what's the only thing better than someone with monumental gorgeousness? How about a place full of gorgeous monuments. Eh? Sound like any place you know?

By featuring a Native Son for this week’s Hot Men Holding Pugs offering, I’d like to appeal to you to help out one of your own fabulous specimens. Please consider putting in a WTTHMG-impenetrable forcefield around the city limits, blocking out their private jets full of job-sucking decoys, which would allow for The Human Male to get a job.

Not only will this be beneficial for keeping us on top of our ever-increasing rent and such startling handsomeness in the area, the sooner The Human Male gets a job, the sooner he’ll be able to start working up the employment ladder. And as he gets more and more responsibility in his job, he will, of course, hire only people on his level of beauty to work with him.

Compelled by their hotness and success, other companies and organizations will follow suit. Thus giving DC the highest number of Sexy Beasts per capita than anywhere in the world.

Because really-- when compared to the WTTHMG’s six measly members, doesn’t an entire metropolitan population of Hot Men sound better?

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Besos,

The Human Female