I am an equal opportunity ogler. I like my Giant Swedish Golden Tree Gods, and I will probably always have a soft spot for dark, smart-Alec-y, tattooed punk rock boys. Maybe not all dudes of that type, but James Ransone for sure. Those eyes, ladies. Look into them and (if you’re like me) understand an intense urge to comfort that inner sadness with a sweet, playful, laughing good time in the sack. Many times over. Sure, he used to be addicted to like, heroin and whatnot, but he is clean and he has so many redeeming qualities that a little indescretion can be overlooked. He chased away a would-be rapist and beat him with a metal pipe. He toilet trained his cat. He’s seen Alexander Skarsgård full-frontal naked. Let’s talk, PJ.