Grammys Boycott?
This year marked the first occasion in a long time when I not only watched the entire Grammy Awards broadcast but actually enjoyed it. There were some great performances to be enjoyed—Beyonce and Tina Turner’s rendition of “Proud Mary” was a highlight for me (well, that and the fact that multiple winner Amy Winehouse thankfully didn’t derail at any point live via satellite)—and lots of pretty (and not so pretty) dresses for us fags to rave or rip on about. But there was one noticeable absence this year for me that I couldn’t deny no matter how hard I tried: hot studs.
Where were they hiding? There clearly wasn’t any shortage of beautiful gals for the guys (and dykes) to enjoy but pity the straight women and gay men who tuned in for a little taste of some of music’s yummy boys. Talk about rock star-ved.
Justin Timberlake wasn’t in attendance, for starters. And of the men who did show up to perform, present, or just look nice in their seats, very few caught or held my attention for very long; with maybe the exception of sexy singer John Legend. Okay, and Ludicras looked good enough to eat in his tux. (My friend, J.F., would argue that the hottest man in attendance was Chris Daughtry; and while I wouldn’t necessarily kick him out of bed for eating crackers, I also wouldn’t be campaigning to get him horizontal in the first place.)
The rest of the pack didn’t leave me with a whole lot to be desired. Of the gents that I did see, I found Chris Brown to be cute but not in a “man, I’d love to have myself some of that” kind of way; John Mayer’s face looked much thinner than I remembered it being; Kanye West’s ego (and arrogance) pretty much killed anything physically appealing about him for me.
I’m sure some people find Brad Paisley, Seal, and/or Mika attractive; however, I’m not one of them.
So where have all the studs of rock (or pop, or hip hop, etc…) gone? Good question. If you have the answer, then please let me know at sirrandy@sirrandy.com. In the meantime, I think I’m going to do a little investigating of my own…
Cheers,
S.R.
