I’m Crushed

I have always loved Pierce Brosnan. I loved everything about him . . . he’s my image of the perfect man. Yes, yes, I love Karlo too, but let’s face it – living with any man makes him much less than perfect. Pierce has always been my dream guy. I always thought he was tall, dark, handsome, sophisticated, strong, witty, a gentleman, well dressed, the accent . . . I can go on and on.

But last night I realized it’s not Pierce that I really love – it’s the James Bond character — The sexy mystery man that can do anything and beat anyone. Karlo has always been a big fan of the Bond movies and I have happily watched them over and over with him. I’ll watch Pierce any day. Or at least I thought I would.

Last night crushed my idealistic image of him. We watched a terrible movie called The Matador. Gone was the handsome British spy that I once adored. In his place was this cheesy, low life, bad guy that made me cringe. I simply could not believe it was the same guy. I think Karlo enjoyed watching my perfect image of him get shattered.

He went from this:

To this:

A nice reminder that to really determine a person’s beauty you must consider so much more than their physical appearance. After all, I was still looking at Pierce – the same guy that played James Bond. But it was all the other qualities that made me really like him so much. Take those away, add some bad qualities, and he was just this icky guy. A true lesson that beauty is not only skin deep.

And now I’m on the hunt to replace Pierce as my favorite movie star . . .