Welcome back to Foolish Friday, class! I know it’s been gone a long time, but it’s taken me this long to remember what I did on Fridays. But thanks to Bare-ChestedGate, my memory jogged and we can return to our regularly scheduled objectifying. Yes!
I just read that Richard Armitage has topped 70,000 followers on Weibo. In my eminently prepared style, I have no idea what Weibo is but assume it’s popular with non-English speakers. This got me to feeling slightly wistful that our RA has truly been discovered by the world; he’s no longer the obscure actor known only by the UK and its allies (unless that 70,000 are the same people on Twitter). We can no longer think of him as our little secret (well, except me). Our boy has burst forth from his cocoon and stands ready to fly away. That bit of overwrought prose had me looking through photos of the younger RA, when he was happy to get a small part. Thankfully, the younger RA offered prime objectifying material. Let’s have a look class.
This is Himself as Lee Preston in Cold Feet. While it’s not that picture, this rarely posted shot has a lot to offer. Notice the laid back youthfulness on the cusp of a man in his prime. The smoothness of the chest and abs contrasting with the hairiness of the forearms and reminding us that he waxes. The firmness of the jawline. Although people joke about speedos, I developed a new appreciation with his. Must have been the color.
Need to run and continue production work. Your homework is to find other aspects in this picture that the world needs to know. I know you can do it.
Richard Armitage as Lee in Cold Feet. Courtesy richardarmitagenet.com
We’re now ramping up production on Phantom of the Opera. Fifty-two talents each with four costume changes. The sets need erecting. Mary Ellen and Ellen are stressed to the max, the seamstress hasn’t arrived, and I’m flailing around taking notes and plugging up holes popping up left and right. And it isn’t even rehearsal week yet. Good grief.
It’s so crazy a gal could use some objectifying, so why not my favorite go-to – Guy of Gisborne. Hey, had it not been for this bad load of pretty, I wouldn’t have discovered Richard Armitage.
Guy demonstrates to Marian how semi-nudity is integral to the story, Courtesy of richardarmitagenet.com
We’ve almost finished building the scenery for The Snow Queen production this weekend. More work tomorrow. Sleep seems like a good idea.
Apropos of nothing, I was searching for one of my favorite pics of Guy tied up (how many times does that happen anyway) and came across this one. Kind of looks like a scene from Season 4 – The Sir Guy of Gisborne Show. Televised after the family hour time slot, naturally. Really late. Really really late.
Guy is either having a bad nightmare or a lovely time. Courtesy richardarmitagenet.com
Sadly at the home under the weather today. The upside is that I can concentrate on writing. Since my 4th blogversary passed December 28th, I may have something to share tomorrow.
What’s not to love about this pic of Richard Armitage? There’s the longer hair, the long side burns, the stubble, the profile, the smile -did I mention the LONGER HAIR? (Call me old school, but he looks better with some hair to soften the angular face.) Most of all, he’s at work, showing us a bit of the magic.
Richard Armitage reading Hamlet, Prince of Denmark: A Novel. Courtesy of A.J. Hartley
Just a quickie post. Have started the volunteer work for my friend and hours are very early and very late. Still searching for an opportune time to write. In the meantime, I know what you come here for.
Richard Armitage being the best Guy he knows how. Courtesy richardarmitagenet.com
There’s no polished piece tonight. I spent most of the day with my friend Mary shlepping from store to store purchasing materials for an upcoming high school production of The Snow Queen. The costumer had a hacked credit card, and although she’s the musical director Mary had to leap into the breach. Where do I come in? I’m now her volunteer assistant and she’s over the moon at the prospect of putting me to work. But before I can actually interact with the kids, I must sift through hours of paperwork for background checking, online training, and what I exasperatingly call “Chester the Molester” instruction so that I know of, am vigilant about, and don’t run afoul concerning inappropriate interactions with minors. Becoming a volunteer sadly isn’t the same these days. This prep school is quite posh and quite large, so they have a lot to protect by dotting all “i’s” and crossing all “t’s.” I must be squeaky clean. All this must be done pronto, naturally. Mary wants me in place for the next production, Phantom of the Opera, one of my favorite musicals.
So I leave you with my latest Richard Armitage favorite that he recently tweeted. I think it’s the cold and lovely snow that really pulls me in. Would I lie?
I’m baaaack. There’s real life news to report but I’ll talk about me next week. Today is Guy Day.
Every time I think that my Richard Armitage crush as moved away from 00glingblatant objectification visual admiration, Guy Day Friday rolls around and I find myself pawing through my stash. Then Guy jump starts the admiration all over again. Take a look at some of these lovely lovely pictures:
Guy, in 1939 MGM technicolor
Guy’s ready for his close up
Guy and eyebrow acting
Guy and “soulful” acting
More manly eyebrow acting
Guy models Medieval Maybelline
Getting his “henchman” on
Getting his “hot henchman” on
My weave never looked this good
He’s on a horse
Psyching up for wedding night
Prettiest guy in the forest
Flashing the profile
Guy taking charge
Happiest marriage proposer
Oh Guy, you’re so fine
What’s a fan gurl to do? I suspect the visual images of Guy fascinate me because of the amazing masculine and feminine mix in Richard Armitage’s features during his mid- thirties at height of his looks, IMHO. Just a change in lighting or angle of the head accentuated one over the other. But that’s a whole ‘nother post. Let’s just admire for now.
With a change in medication regimen, my mood has been stabilized on the positive side of neutral for almost three weeks. This has been the longest stretch since the London trip in June 2011. Dr. G. tried this regimen previously, but wondered if it would work sans work stress. Voila! I feel good. I know there’s no cure for depression, but I hope this regimen has a long viability.
So why haven’t I been blogging? Interesting question. I mulled over this for some time with Dr. G. Why haven’t I been motivated to blog since I feel so good? The answer: because I feel so good. Good feelings are a positive motivation, but my entire life has been controlled by reflex reactions to dire external consequences. Negative motivation is an entrenched behavior, and such a thing is very, very difficult to change. Musing that I want to do X, so it gets done is an unusual and unfamiliar concept. Distraction and desperation motivated the previous long stretch of blogging. Now, what’s stressful about happy feelings? Dr. G., who has been pushing blogging big time, suggested working up to writing my novel (did I mention that?) as a motivation. But realization of a real book won’t happen for years; it doesn’t have the punch of immediacy. No pressure? Oh dear. No matter my real or imagined excuses, I’ve decided to allot time every morning after rising to blog, write – type something. Let’s see how this goes.
So what have I been doing for almost three weeks? Making busy work and plans. Firstly, there will be no more snap decisions – retirement was enough. I need to move forward with careful consideration. The condo sale is on hold because 1) I love the place and am not ready for any emotional fallout from suddenly wrenching myself away, and 2) I don’t know where to land and certainly don’t want to move someplace I don’t want to be, and 3) I can feasibly stay for another year while I sort things (repairs, painting, clean-out, etc.). I’ll have more than enough time to research living in other parts of the city or the suburbs while becoming mentally and physically fit.
Also, I’ve been PC video gaming, namely playing RIFT. Now don’t laugh; this has been therapeutic. I played game therapy for psych rehab in the wilds of Ohio with my friend a few weeks ago. The first half of the week, she beat me easily, every single game. Ridiculously simple-minded and silly mistakes characterized my play. I used to be a damn good player and this secretly chapped my ass. However, because of focus and concentration issues, my ability to persist in either has eroded badly. It’s been like an atrophying muscle. So I hunkered down and exercised it over the week. By the end of the trip, I finally won several games. So when RIFT went “free to play,” I decided to check it out again. Gaming requires extended periods of concentration. The characters embark on missions called quests, work on trade skills, duel, etc. etc. etc. It’s a massive time sink. After an initial stretch of play, my interest quickly waned but then I discovered a game aspect called Dimensions. A dimension is the player’s own world crafted with special items. If it’s not sold in-game, it has to be made or recreated (morphed). For example, there is no item called a turkey dinner platter, so it must be recreated. I must break the image down into parts and conceptualize what obtainable items can be rotated, flipped, sized, pushed, and pulled to look like a real turkey dinner platter (3 burlap bags, 6 decorative sweetberries, and a patterned urn). The morphing requires a lot of focus and thought. So, I’ve been crafting in my own dimension (my inner decorator is happy) while gaming, and exercising focus and concentration. Bizarre, eh? But it’s working. Eventually, this interest will wane (after I finish six more tiers), but that focus muscle will be a little stronger.
The Great Room. Most of the furniture is crafted.
Everything crafted but the walls and floor.
My character and her dog in a top hat of course, Kirby.
I built EVERYTHING – including the house.
Luxurious bathroom. I made that.
So, I suppose the odd gaming has created a POSITIVE motivation in psych rehab. Who knew?
I’ve been mulling that the bag of goodies has been running out when I started wondering if the pool was still open. Which made think of this pic, for… er… reasons. Nostalgia. Right. I’ll mosey along and search for more screen caps.
Enjoy your weekend.
Lee, played by Richard Armitage, begins his demonstration. Mmhmm. Courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.com
In my approaching decrepitude, I’ve given up on the whole make-up thing. Nobody has turned to stone in my presence, so things aren’t too bad yet. On the other hand, our Sir Guy never left Locksley Manor without the whole deal (except for a bit during S3 when he went goth). Great foundation, darkened brushed brows, guyliner, a touch of mascara and eye shadow, usually in a dark smokey olive. Finish with a smooch of clear lip gloss and he was set for the day.
This picture shows off his deft hand to full advantage. Back to my other projects.
Guy, played by Richard Armitage, goes over his new contract with Maybelline Cosmetics.
Since this is Guy Day, I’ve been searching for the right Guy pic but there are so many lovely ones. How is a woman to choose? Then I thought of RA’s “I’m not a movie star,” comment (that’s okay, sweetie) and this pic drew my attention:
Richard Armitage as Sir Guy of Gisborne hears the approaching rumble of fangirls. You’re a movie star, babe. Courtesy of mabelalexa.tumblr.com
There’s something about the lighting here. The almost sepia tone reminds me of the Technicolor movies of old featuring movie stars such as Errol Flynn. You can imagine how RA would have looked back in the day. Personally, stars then tended to have more unique, striking features than today’s cookie cutter variety. The face, followed by the voice naturally, was everything.
Here is the black and white version:
Guy, finding himself in an Errol Flynn swashbuckler, realizes he can go native. Sorry Marian.
See any difference? Oh dear, not a bit of snark can I squeeze out while gazing at Richard Armitage (and Sir Guy), on the brink of his own movie stardom. I feel womanly vapors coming on and must have a lie down. No, seriously. The fumes muck up my sinuses something fierce.
I’m working on another project still not blog related. Again there’s no original post, Dear Reader, and with the clock ticking, my muse became temperamental and flounced off. The nerve! I’ll have to start stockpiling posts again. The pressure! Thank goodness for the bag of goodies. Oh, here’s one for the John Porter fans. I like it because it’s cropped so close, I can’t even tell it’s from Strike Back.
Richard Armitage as John Porter, courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.com
Hello class. I’ve been pawing through my stash for worthy lecture material. A few pics elicited some evil chuckles, but I decided to show some class, being RA’s birthday week and all. But then I spotted this pic on another blog and could not believe that, yet again, it was not given the full and thorough consideration it deserves. Let’s get started.
Richard Armitage at Comic Con describing just how big it is. Courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.com
Forget the gestures and concentrate on what’s important – the backside. Ignore the atrociously ill fitting shirt and observe the lovely sweep from the back of the neck to the waist. This side angle does him justice by emphasizing the wide shoulders, curving to the shoulder blades and slowly tapering down to the trim waist in a vee-shaped pattern. If we were to turn him, like a better looking Ken doll on a revolving platform, we would see the same symmetrical pattern from all sides. Unfortunately, we cannot see the small of the back that curves in and out again to a well formed tush that fills those jeans quite nicely. But that’s another post. I could mention the spinous processes and wonderful lordosis of the spine it took to build this manly view, but won’t because I’m shallow. My point is – put a discus in his hand and er… remove the clothes… mmm…. and he could be a Greek or Roman statue in a museum.
Do you see this excellent form on any of the other guys in this pic? I don’t either.
…Er, almost. If you haven’t read yesterday’s post, please do so now. I’m mentally cracking knuckles, stretching fingers and ready to get back to the business of living. Only that trio Jada (my super ego) and Jodi (id) have been throwing a month long party in celebration. Even Quiet One appears on the brink of having a lot to say. How can I cut short the festivities? It’s a good feeling that’s long overdue.
Speaking of overdue, it’s high time to return to blogging. Posts may be sporadic as I slowly dip my toe back in the water, as it were. The goal is to rebuild mental resources and not overwhelm myself by jumping into the deep end, instead of slowing easing back in.
Ironically with my mind open to discuss everything in the world, I still have the blogger’s problem: What to Talk About? I even asked Jada, who’s never short on mayhem, how she felt about a certain actor’s appearance on Sir Peter’s recent vlog. When she replied, “who?,” I thought it best not to go there. Yet.
So, while I dredge up less… controversial… things to say, enjoy a gander at recent said actor before he rids himself of that horrid hairy mask. It’s just a matter of time ladies! Sorry, hairy horde. Oops. Maybe too soon?
[I can’t seem to blog lately unless I’m perving, so I’m going to go with it, okay dear reader?]
Trying to get inspiration for today’s post for your objectifying needs, I’ve been perusing the world of Tumblr where anybody born between 1975 and 1995 is deemed old. I can’t imagine what I’m considered. Anyway, it’s an addictive medium where a lovely picture leads to another lovely picture and another until you’ve waded through hundreds of pics over tens of tumblrlogs. My Methuselah self was quite impressed how these young’uns don’t mince words, simply telling it like it is when I came across an entry by our own thefrencharmitagearmy who not only has a blog but a tumblrlog. (She’s new to ArmitageWorld so give her your love.) She made a confession that stopped even jaded me in my tracks.
What did she say???
“I’ve recently developed a certain fetish for his nipples.” Do I seriously need to tell you whose?
I laughed before it quickly dawned on me, “OMG, ME TOO!”
Let’s take a look, shall we?
Guy and Lucas nipple porn
You may want to go here, and click on the photos, arranged in loving detail, to view the deliciously large HD screencaps for closer analysis. In the interest of science, I urge you to do that now. Observe the round perfection of each round areola, not too big, not too small. Note the exact centering of each perk tip. They accentuate the already lovely symmetry of the pecs. Truly, they are like perfect little Hershey’s kisses.
Porter nipple porn
Click here for those large HD pics. These screencaps showcase them ever better. Buffer body equals buffer nipples? You be the judge. So, just like thearmitagearmy, I humbly confess my secret adoration for RA’s nipples. If I had to pick his most sublime feature, this would be it.
Ahhhhhh. Thanks, thearmitagearmy, for putting me back in touch with my objectifying fangurl. I missed her.
Today, while looking at the screen cap below for medicinal purposes, I started musing about Marian and trying to understand the story line through her point of view. To my surprise, it wasn’t that hard to do.
Here Marian bravely sallies forth to discuss a detente with the ex-fiance/evil henchman, only to find him trying on armor and half naked by firelight. It’s bad enough that a maiden must swallow her pride and venture out alone clandestinely to a single man’s house at night, but to be faced with this too? Has he no SHAME?
Here the black-hearted villain is hardly the chivalrous knight, nevermind that he was punched and literally left lying at the altar with a scar on his face to remind him for the rest of his life. Principle is principle and chivalry is chivalry!
Here the rotten blackguard stands imperiously, muscles rippling, nipples perking, lips slightly pouting, clearly the image of brute force and intimidation. No wonder poor Marian stammers. With somebody like this standing over me, my mouth would go dry too.
Here Marian courageously presents the Fingers of Friendship, made even more sincere by being especially reachy.
Here the dirty rascal grasps Marian’s Fingers of Friendship a little too long, riveting Marian to the spot, and thereby constituting false imprisonment. She’s forced against her will to inhale the aroma of leather, horse and 100% man. Will this devil stop at nothing?
Luckily for our intrepid heroine, the proximity of Robin Hood’s goodness breaks the bond, thus releasing her from her unwitting entrapment. The dirty, rotten scoundrel is foiled again, and lives to scheme another day. (No, there is no screen cap of Robin Hood because HaHAHAHAhaha this isn’t about him.)
So, you’re right Fitzg, I really get a better feel for Marian now. I ought to rewatch the series; clearly I’ve completely misjudged her.
All screen caps courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.com