
Catherine Shannon says that we men just don’t understand. Yes, he whacks people and even cheats on his wife, but these little flaws aside, she explains that Tony Soprano has most of the specific qualities that make the female heart beat faster.
It was a dry spring day, April, and we were a few blocks from Wall Street. My female colleagues and I secured our cocktails and canapés at Fraunces Tavern, the oldest bar in New York. We were a relatively diverse group, ranging in age from twenty-three to late forties, from all over the place: England, California, New Jersey. Gathered around a high wood table, we cast our votes.
The question: “Do you think Tony Soprano is hot?”
Yes. Of course. Duh. Absolutely.
We were unanimous. Some of these women were practically squealing with delight just thinking about it. “Wait—he’s literally so hot and I don’t know why!” said the twenty-three-year-old. (Haha.)
“But he’s fat.” A male colleague inserted himself into the discussion. “And balding.” We looked up at him with annoyance and pity. This is when I realized: the modern male mind simply cannot comprehend the allure of Tony Soprano.
HT: Andrew Sullivan, who is so dumb he believes in climate hooey, but does have a knack for anthologizing good stuff.
Hairless Joe
Reason number 37,628 why we should repeal the 19th.
Fusil Darne
I’ve known a woman or three that seems turned on by the notion that their flame has it in him to beat them into a pink, quivering, pulp in need of medical assistance, or, a coroner.
They are out there.
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