by Lisa H. (Tue Nov 10, 2009)
Brace yourselves 'Twilight' fans, I'm about to blow your mind.
Not every woman is ready to gush and fall all over the 'Twilight' books or
movies.
Not every woman thinks Robert Pattinson is ‘dreamy.' In
fact, some women, like this one, think he needs a shower and a haircut. This
woman also thinks he needs to stop sucking in his cheeks and pushing out his
lips. It's like when kids cross their eyes and their mother says, ‘If you keep
doing that your face is going to get stuck like that.' Apparently Robert didn't
listen to his mother. I'm not sure I've ever seen him smile without looking
like he died two years ago.
'Twilight' fans, be aware: some women couldn't care less about whiny, horny,
vampire teenagers.
I know. I know. I speak blasphemy. How could a woman not be thrown head over
heels in love with extremely pale, brooding adolescents? Well, there are some
women who can resist the temptation, trust me. To be honest, I'm embarrassed
when I see grown women morph into giddy young girls over the bare chest of a
17-year-old actor. I'm embarrassed for them. Do they know how absolutely
ridiculous they look and sound?
It's one thing to have a little fun, but some 'Twilight' fans seem to have
forgotten that they are way past puberty and actually graduated high school a
good number of years ago. There are websites full of older women who blog away
about these teenage boys as if they are the sexiest creatures on earth. I'm not
saying women of a certain age can't have fun, or can't recapture their youth
from time to time. But wearing T-shirts with the image of a boy half your age emblazoned
across your chest - your chest, I might add, that may be taking a trip toward
your knees, or at least your waist? That, my dears, is pushing it. Maybe I'm
just not cool, but give me a sexy 40 to 50-year-old any day over a man who
can't even grow chest hair. Move over Robert and come on in Harrison Ford,
Russell Crowe, or Daniel Craig. And while you're in here, take off your shirt.
Ladies, I want a real man who goes after what he wants; who has crows' feet at
the corners of his eyes, unmanicured
hands, hair rarely touched by a stylist, and who oozes testosterone. I don't
want a man who postures and pouts and broods his way through life, sighs
a lot and uses so much product on his hair he'd set himself on fire the moment
he lit a cigarette.
I suppose you are wondering if I have read the books or watched the movies. You
are wondering if I have any grounds to declare my hatred for the franchise that
is based on hot and heavy teenager vampire love.
No, I haven't read the books. I haven't seen the movies. And *gasp* I don't
intend to.
The books, the movie, they frighten me. Not because I am afraid of vampires, but
because I am afraid of whiny teenagers who pose sensually before darkened
trees.
One day, before I know it, I will have to cope with my own over-dramatic
teenager so I don't intend on dealing with them a moment before then.
