Badass: The Not-So-Secret World of Mancrushes
Jon Hamm, in character as Don Draper from Mad Men, was sitting in the passenger seat of my car as we drove through some sort of mountainous region -- maybe Tennessee? He was puffing away on cigarettes, one after the other. He made weird asides about the car, sometimes rolling his window down to heckle other cars and throw beer bottles at them at random. ![]()
Then, as the alarm on my phone replaced any ambient noise in this scene, I stirred. Finally my eyes opened and it was morning, in my house, and the sun was peeking through the shades.
"Holy Christ, did I just have a dream about Jon Hamm?" I thought as I made my way through my waking routines.
I'm not alone. Tons of my straight male friends have mancrushes. A lot of them are pretty normal. I mean, who doesn't think that Ryan Gosling has a dreamy musk about him that you wanna bathe in, or that Justin Timberlake would be fun to gaze at from across the table at a five-star restaurant where you just had a wonderful conversation about politics.
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