Yeah, yeah, you caught me!  It is indeed December 1st, and I am late in trotting out this month’s HMD R & D.  Pray forgive me, for I can offer up no excuse for my tardiness…all I can offer is the Hotness…so enjoy…and forgive…and ENJOY!

Let us begin with a gentleman that MANY people have been clamoring for since the first HMD R & D - Mark Ruffalo.  I am dedicating his appearance today to A. in the Valley, although the actual request came from her sister-in-law T., a great friend of mine.  A.  loves Mark Ruffalo.  T. loves Mark Ruffalo.  I love Mark Ruffalo.  My grandmother loves Mark Ruffalo.  (I have added and re-added Just Like Heaven to her Netflix list MANY times.)  Women love Mark Ruffalo.  Why?  He’s incredibly talented, for starters (and again, talent is one of the main components of effective Hot Manspiration).  You Can Count On Me was the film that launched his career - watch it and you will never again question Mark Ruffalo’s Hotness.  A wonderfully sensitive portrait of a wonderfully flawed and pained character started the film career he rightfully deserved.  To be honest, I have a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Ruffalo wishes he weren’t such a dreamboat, because he is much more of a smolderingly sexy character actor than Hollywood will let him be.  He’s fighting the good fight, to be sure, taking smaller, more interesting roles rather than romantic comedy after romantic comedy (although…and I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud, I LOVE 13 Going On 30!!  I do!  And I adore him in it!).  Mark - we love ya babe!  Congratulations - you’re A.’s Hot Manspiration of the Month. 

My next request comes from P. in Woodland Hills.  As she simply states, “Enrique Iglesias is my Paul Walker.”  Say no more!  Ya’ll know that I have a thing for Paul Walker, a hardcore, major thing for Paul Walker.  I think he’s as Hot as Hades, but I am constantly shamed by my Manjoyment of him.  But I’m here to speak the truth, and in this case the truth is thus - we ALL have a Paul Walker!  We all have that certain someone who moves us from the inside out for no reason we can truly verbalize save for this easiest of compliments - he’s Hot!  We all have that someone that we yearn for in secret, on the down low, under the covers with a flashlight and the shades drawn.  We all have that someone that we DO NOT bring up in good company else we lose our credibility amongst our friends.  Well, ladies and gents, enough is enough!  Manificence is a rare thing to behold, a rare thing indeed, so when we do we should scream from the rooftops…Enrique Iglesias is HOT!  Damn HOT!  He’s a cheeseball, but he’s HOT!  He dates idiots, but he’s HOT!  He thinks he’s god’s gift to women, and he’s a lil bit right cause he’s HOT!  And no, he’ll never crack the fortress of talent, hots and humility otherwise known as my Original Trifecta of Hotness (the only person seriously threatening to make that trio a foursome is Gerard Butler…sigh…), but did I totally stop and stare when he was on America’s Next Top Model?  Hells yeah!  (ANTM is one of my abso fave shows…here’s the video he shot with the ladies…by the way, how PISSED am I that the stripper from Jersey is gone!)  So for P. in Woodland Hills, I give you Enrique Iglesias.  See him.  Love him.  Manspiration is Manspiration, whene’er and howe’er it comes.  Don’t fight it!

Last but certainly not least, we have a legend for a legend.  Miss Gee has been one of HMD’s most loyal, most vocal, and most passionate supporters from the moment the Hotness began.  Her commentary is often more entertaining than the entries themselves, so how, HOW could I not include her very first HMD R & D?  I admit, her choice gave me pause.  This particular dude doesn’t move me in me lady parts, he doesn’t set my heart a-flutter or make my stomach flip.  What he does is make music, the kind of music that leaves a gal like Miss Gee happily stranded on Manspiration Highway.  She writes, “The Boss.  Talented.  Classic.  Sexy.  A rock ‘n roll icon for the mothertrucking ages, man.  Writes things like ‘I’ll prove it all night, I’ll prove it all night, baby, I’ll prove it all night to you,’ and ‘I got a bad desire, Ooo Ooo Ooo I’m on fire,’ and ‘I’ll love you with all the madness of my soul. WHOA.’  Whoa indeed.  Whoa.  Wow.  What. A. Rock. Star.”  Clearly, I could not have said it any better.  What a rock star, indeed!  (I think my lady parts just moved!)  Bruce Springsteen - the badass with a nice ass, making his way into our tunnel of love with his haunting lyrics and jaggedly perfect voice…Miss Gee’s Hot Manspiration of the Month, nay, of her LIFE!  How perfect!

Week 28:  down 0 pounds (-21 pounds total!)

I know, I know, I KNOW!  Where the hell have I been?!  Who the hell do I think I am?!  Where is last week’s entry?!  Where is it?!  Where is it?! 

It never happened.  It doesn’t exist.  I didn’t write it. 

Whaaaa?!?!?!?!?

Here’s the situation - You ever have one of those weeks where you look at your life for what it really is, when Weighing In becomes more important than weighing in, when you look at your delicate financial state and see it crumbling like so much bleu cheese in the salads you’re not eating, when you realize that this sad state of affairs renders you unable to participate in any of your favorite holiday activities - throwing a cocktail party for your fave gals, buying gifts of any sort, going home for Christmas - and all of a sudden you are stuck in a December full of worry and anxiety instead of mirth and merriment, when this realization makes the sound of your mother’s voice on the telephone send you off into major tearland, jagged, crazy bouts of full blown sobbing that terrify her to death and make you feel foolish and selfish, when even the news of Andy Pettite’s imminent return to pinstripes inspires a tepid and lukewarm response, when you feel that everything is wrong, your life is horribly off track and veering further into no Hot Man’s land, when all of this swoops down on you in the course of one week, what do you do?  What do you do?! 

You stop looking for Hotness and instead find Beauty.  Everywhere. 

Beauty in the mother that will not let you miss Christmas, who moves heaven and earth to make sure you come home, and sure you’ll have seventeen connections and won’t arrive until ten minutes shy of Santa’s midnight arrival, but you’ll be there, dammit!  Beauty in the uncle who helps in this plane-ticket buying extravaganza.  (It really did take a village to buy that ticket!)  Beauty in the friends who will not let you wither away like some wilted flower, who insist on speaking with you, connecting with you, seeing you to make sure you are okay, who offer to ply you with drinks (they know you  so well!) to keep the good times, good times rolling, who insist that your flawed dye job looks natural when you know deep down that your curls are now a blue-black mess.  Beauty in Paula Deen, who came to Torrance last week as part of her book tour, and who, even though she was once an HMD Foe of the Week, is just about as delightful as any human being can be in person, and who relates a HILARIOUS story about how her boobs were talking to each other in bed one night (I could not do it justice, you will simply have to imagine for yourself…or ask her about it if you’re ever fortunate enough to meet her).  Beauty in my Hot Man Dieteers, who didn’t abandon me even though I abandoned them for one miserable, crazy, silent week. 

And so it is that you begin to see this Beauty in yourself, too, and you realize that all is far from lost, that laughter is the best medicine for everything, that friends and family can save anything, that your life is actually full of riches and abundance.  And so you make your way back to the Hotness, back to Her Hotness.  You refocus and refuel, because you do indeed have a mighty task ahead of you, getting the House of Leah back in order.  Getting back to dreams still unrealized, goals still unmet, paths still not traveled.  And an old saying comes to mind, one that has been a past favorite of yours, only now it is re-imagined for the times at hand:

That which does not kill me shall only make me Hotter!

Hot Manspirations of the Week:  Umm, duh…like this is totally the kind of week that my Original Trifecta of Hotness was made for!  Like, how could I find any greater inspiration than with these, my knights of shining armor, my diamonds in the rough, my Men of Manificence, the father, son and holy ghost of Hotness…and yes, while there is always room for new Hotness (I’m totally feeling Jason Bateman these days, kids!) there is a time and a place for everything…and let’s face it, this past week the center could not hold…it needs support…I need support…I need Craig, all rough edges, brute strength and explosive talent…and yeah, I know he’s currently in theaters but I am SO not inclined to see The Golden Arrow or whatever the hell it is…I HATE movies like that, for they remind me wayyy too much of Willow, and I rue the day I ever spent a millisecond watching that fantastical craptaculara!…am I mistaken or did I see a freaking flying bear in the commercials for this ‘un?…oy…I need Clooney, all smartass delight and wonder, carrying Cary Grant’s torch with such surprising agility and grace (save for the occasional motorcycle spill!)…I mean, come on - did you ever think the mullet haired dude from The Facts of Life was going to end up being the MAN in Hollywood?! (because he is SO the Man…don’t let anyone say otherwise)…did we really think Dr. Ross had it in him to pull out a wonderfully robust and complex directorial endeavor like Good Night, and Good Luck?…and did we EVER think, when watching the ascending star that was Brad Pitt in Thelma and Louise, that one day we could watch a movie and not pay one bit, one speck, one iota of attention to Mr. Pitt but instead focus solely on the Hotness beside him?!…indeed, I say we did not…and then Jete, Jete the Great…all pinstriped glory and an ass I would lay down on the street and die for…number two on the field but number one in my heart…humility and grace and overwhelming ability…already a legend…already a champion…already HOT and getting Hotter…sigh…drool…sigh…

And then let’s face it - this trio now has a fourth official member!  Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Gerard Butler, the only Hot Manspiration to ever penetrate (tee hee, I said penetrate) the hallowed halls of the OTH!!  A ridiculous body, a staggeringly beautiful accent, a funny, disarming personality - where have you been all my life?!  Welcome, welcome to the Original Trifecta of Hotness…I shall now have to think of a new name for these gents…The Fantastic Four?…The Hot Quad?…suggestions, anyone?

Hola people!  Welcome to the first Hot Man Diet Thursday extravaganza!  I know this is an evening edition, but that may well be the case every once in a while with these mid-week Hot Me Ups…’twill be a lovely surprise for your Friday morning, a T.G.I.HMDF if you will…

Also, this entry is a tad late because I am hung.  Seriously hung.  Not in a “third hinge in the middle” kind of way, but instead in the “oh my god, did we seriously just order another pitcher of margaritas!?!” kind of way.  Yep, that most formidable of HMD Foes has once again reared her salt-rimmed head, turning me into so much tequila soaked putty in her lime hands…sometimes I can fight the fight…and sometimes…I cannot…

Oh, a random story to tell you guys and then we’ll get on to our Hotter purpose.  Had a CRAZY dream, one of those post-drinking dreams that are wild and all over the place.  In this dream I was back in NYC (don’t all great dreams start in NYC?) and I’m totally best friends with a paraplegic and a midget.  I’m cereal.  As the dream starts, we’re all at dinner, and these two peeps are so cool, really sophisticated and urbane and well dressed, and I feel cooler just being around them.  After dinner we make our way through the labyrinth that is the New York City subway system, and I think we’re just going home but really they’re leading me down these crazy corridors I’ve never seen and next thing I know we’re in front of this huge red door with a doorman…who is also a midget (should I be saying little person instead?)…and my friends and this dude totally exchange secret looks, some code stuff, and the doorman lets us in…I look around and we are in this dark, cavernous, smoky bar  - it’s a speakeasy for midgets and parapalegics!!  I am not effing kidding you, the bar is filled with them!!  I’m in shock, not because of the clientele (keep in mind my beloved company for the evening), not even so much because of the lesbian midget couple who are hardcore making out at the bar (I’m SO not the one to judge some peeps making out at a bar!) but only because I can’t believe they’re letting me in what is obviously the hottest underground, after hours spot in ALL of Manhattan!!  Everyone there is just so freaking cool, like Algonquin Round Table cool, like french beret and beat poetry cool, way cooler than any of the spots I tend to throw back some hooch.   

Of course, this is where my dream ends, when I finally start to feel urbane and sophisticated and cool, surrounded by the best bunch of paraplegics and midgets anyone could ever axe for.  And there are, as always, some lessons to be learned:  1) never drink and dream, and 2) at some point, whether I care to admit it or not, I could definitely use some professional help.

Anyhoo…

People - the time for globalization is here, globalization of communication, globalization of resources, globalization of Hotness!  And while there are many, many, MANY International Men of Hotness, I’ve assembled four such wonders to serve as our own personal Hot Man Diet Model UN.  First up - Takeshi Kaneshiro.  Takeshi was introduced to me by my friend Erika, who was gravely concerned with the lack of Asians on HMD. (I’m sorry!  Bad, bad Leah!)  According to Wikipedia he is half Taiwanese and half Japanese.  According to this picture he is 100% Hot!  Apparently he is a former boy band-er turned edgy film actor…I think one site even likened him to Johnny Depp.  A ringing endorsement, indeed, for this International Man of Hotness.  Me likey.  Me likey a lot!

And now we move to Israel, birthplace of our second IMH, Oded Fehr.  Born in Tel Aviv, trained at the Old Vic in England (I’m so jealous!), Oded has been in a ton of stuff - the Mummy movies and the Deuce Bigalow movies (where he totally sported this long haired look, it is Hot, of course, but not really my style).  More recently, he was on tv in Sleeper Cell, along with the smoking Hot FBH (Former Boyfriend of Halle), Michael Ealy.  There was a huge Sleeper Cell billboard around the corner from my house that featured close-ups of both these fine gentleman…I passed it every day for many months…the Hotness…oh, the Hotness!…

I’m sure you all know this next gent.  Naveen Andrews is Hot.  He is also Lost.  But most importantly, he is Hot.  I am not a Lost watcher.  No, the Hotness I am recalling is from years ago, from The English Patient, when a young newcomer managed to snatch my heart away from both Ralph Fiennes AND Colin Firth…considering how much I love those two this was quite an accomplishment, indeed!  Remember the scene where he takes Juliette Binoche into that, what was it, a cave or something?  And he gives her the torch and sends her flying into air to look at the beautiful etchings or whatever on the wall?  Oh my god I wanted to be Juliette Binoche at that moment!!  SO romantic!  SO sturdy and manly and caring and Hot and Hot!  I. Was. Done.  And still am.  Note to self - rent The Brave One…ASAP!  

And last but not least, we have an IMH who is the only of the four to be a previous Hot Manspiration of the Week.  He is the epitome, the very essence of International Hotness.  Born in Austria, speaks four languages, half German, half African, so Hot, so unbelievably Hot, couldn’t be Hotter if Jesus Christ himself set out to create the perfect Hot Man, stunningly ripped, the face, the lips, the body, oh the body…words cannot….I cannot…too much Hotness…must look away…

I’m speaking, of course, of Boris Kodjoe.  Damn!

Well, I hope ya’ll enjoyed yourselves!  Have a fabulous weekend, filled with merriment and manjoyment.

And if anyone knows about where I can find the paraplegic/midget speakeasy, let me know.  I’m totally gonna be in NYC on the 29th and I am in like Flynn!      

Week 29:  down 1 pound (-22 pounds total!)

Hello Hot Man Dieteers!  Are ya’ll chomping at the bit for a few days off with friends and family?  Will ye be able to concentrate this week, knowing that Friday most likely brings with it the glory of yuletide carols being sung by a choir and folks dressed like eskimos?  Are the gifts wrapped, the stockings hung, the tree festive and lit, fully prepared to received its gilded booty come next Monday evening?

Yeah, right!  Neither am I.  Ha!

I am, if nothing else, ALWAYS in favor of calling a spade a spade, and this spade says that this time of year is, without fail, incredibly, unerringly, overwhelmingly stressful!  It shouldn’t be, but it is.  Add to that the fact that you find yourself surrounded by food - extravagant, lovingly made traditional family feasts, homemade cookies brightly decorated in the colors of the season, spiked ciders, egg nogs and toddies to toast loved ones too rarely seen - and you have a recipe, pardon the pun, for disaster! 

So…what to do?  Do you give in, like you do every year, and put off your food woes until January?  Do you place the burden of your expanding waistline on a flimsy, rarely kept New Year’s resolution?  Why not?  When’s the next time you’re gonna get a home cooked meal from Mom, or Dad’s secret recipe Christmas cocktail?  Why not do what we always do and savor and relish and eat ourselves silly and let that all be 2008’s problem to handle?  Who’s down for another year of Season’s Eatings?!

NOT ME!

You see, as I spent this past week recovering from being One Hot Mess a quote kept reappearing in my thoughts.  (I know what you’re thinking - another inspirational quote from Her Hotness, what the hell, does she just sit at home and think of these things all day long?!  To which I say, bugger off!  I like ‘em all, and I’m keeping ‘em all!)  Here ’tis - If you always do what you’ve always done, then you’ll always get what you always got.  And so…with those wise words in mind, I have decided to give myself a pre-Christmas gift - the gift of Hotness.  I will work it HMD-style this Christmas, if I have to hit daily matinee showings of P.S. I Love You, if I have to wrap my Jeter Yankee tee oh so snugly around Talent and Ambition every night, if I have to get Clooney’s face emblazoned on a mug that I carry around my mother’s house like Linus and his ever present blanket, if I have to wrench my niece’s portable DVD player away from her High School Musical-ed behind and shove Casino Royale or Something New in there every stinking evening…these are all things I WILL DO because I’ve never done them before, never tried to resist, never tried to moderate or ration or exercise or eat vegetables that weren’t cooked in pig’s fat (my mother’s greens are a thing of beauty, this will be hard - oy!).  And in doing all this stuff I’ve never done, I hope to get something I never got - a happy, healthy, Hot me.  What a gift!  I can’t wait to unwrap it!    

Hot Manspirations of the Week:  So, how cruel am I?  I mentioned Michael Ealy in last Thursday’s entry but failed to provide nary a picture of his sweet chocolate Hotness, not even a link!  I am so sorry!  I have flogged myself most soundly and am determined to correct this issue post haste!  HMD’ers, meet Michael Ealy.  He’s delicious.  He’s delightful.  He’s de-lovely!  He’s been in the aforementioned Sleeper Cell and both Barbershop movies, but his biggest claim to fame is probably his co-starring role with Halle Berry in Their Eyes Were Watching God (wonderful movie, thank you Oprah!).  ‘Twas there that he began the relationship that would eventually have him become an FBH - Former Boyfriend of Halle.  Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Halle Berry, but there’s no doubt that many of her past male choices have been less than stellar.  She’s crashed and burned her way through more boyfriend and husband drama than most of my friends and myself put together.  But from what I can tell, she and Michael came to an end the way most of us do - quietly, privately, and with a pain that we manage to learn from and move beyond.  And so I let myself think that Michael Ealy is perhaps the best FBH of them all, though there is no doubt indeed that he is the Hottest! 

But how can one speak of FBH’s without highlighting the current BH and soon-to-be baby daddy, Gabriel Aubry.  Holy.  Hell.  Halle.  How?  How?  How?  Sooooooo Hot, this Canadian Adonis (why did I think he was Italian?) will hopefully stand the test of time with Ms. Berry.  Although how the world will be able to stand the STUNNING child that will come of this union…well that’s a whole ‘nother Oprah!

See you all on Thursday!  I think it’s time for some requests and dedications…

Hola people!

I know I say that a lot, but today I really mean it - hola people!  For the first time in HMD history (a long, storied epic drama only recently divulged to the masses) ALL THREE of this month’s Hot Man Diet Requests and Dedications are Latino!!  (Didn’t we know we’d be here someday, in the midst of a Hombre Caliente overload?  I mean, I could have called it months ago…Latin men are just Hot.  Hot.  Muy Caliente.  HOT!  They can dance and they can sing and ever since Menudo crash landed on my cultural radar at age ten, blasting open my black and white Pennsylvanian world…I must say…I was hooked…it is an odd fit next to my previously admitted Brit addiction, isn’t it?)  So let’s say we get started - we’ve got a Brazilian, a Cuban and a Mexican here for the viewing pleasure of two white girls and an Italian…don’t ya just love America?!

Also, all three of today’s requestees hail from the LBC (so much drama!), Long Beach, California…hmmm…now it’s all starting to make sense…

Let us begin in Brazil…This request comes from C., a lovely lady now currently in Italy but undoubtedly STILL keeping on top of all things HMD (tee hee, I said on top).  She didn’t write much, only sent me a link with this missive, “So that you can see what I’m talking about.”  And I do.  I see.  And how!  Kaká is his name, although don’t let it fool you.  Oh no, there are no kids being dropped off at the pool here.  Instead, you’ve got a soccer player who’s been playing professionally since age 15 or so and who is ginormously successful.  He’s also ridonkulously popular, appearing in ads for Adidas and Armani.  Again, I see why.  He’s got a baby face and an athlete’s body, the kind of hair you’d like to run your hands through and a smile you could fall in and die.  Sigh!  One last thing to make him even Hotter - his real name is Ricardo.  So get your mind out of the gutter and start Manjoying yourself!  This one’s worth it.

Next we have this request from A, who sends along her query ’bout a bit o’ honey - “Have you featured Eduardo Verástegui? OMG - he is Hot!!”  Again, I DO NOT DISAGREE!!  A huge soap opera star in his native Mexico, Eduardo may be familiar to those of you smart enough to have caught Chasing Papi (I am sad to say I cannot count myself among you, for I missed that one…I hear that it is dee-lightful, though this same person considered it woefully misrepresented in its ad campaign…let’s say we all put this one on our Netflix list, eh?)  Beyond that I’m afraid I don’t have much to say…this one is so new to me…but let’s face it - with arms like that, does what I say even matter?!  Are you even still reading this shit?  Seriously?!  Look at that man and entertain the thought of him getting out of your pool (let’s hope you didn’t drop the kids off there) and walking over to you all glistening and wet and Hot and one swim trunk away from naked Manificence and you’re standing there holding a towel for him to dry himself with but he grabs the towel and throws it on the ground and grabs you and kisses you with all the fervor his bad Mantentions can bring and then all of a sudden a woman shows up with gun cocked and cries out “Eduardo!  Hijo de puta, hoy es el dia de nuestra boda!” and then shots ring out and someone screams and someone falls and then…then…then we cut to commercial. 

Whooo…sorry kids!  I fell into a telenovela there for a second…

Okay, so this last gent is one we are all familiar with - Andy Garcia.  This request comes from E., who went so far as to specify a “young Andy Garcia”.  Well, we here at HMD are by no means ageist, not when the median age of our Original Trifecta of Hotness sails well north of 35, not when we still appreciate the silver foxy Hotness of the Paul Newmans of the world, no sirree, not us!  And to give Hotness credit where credit is due, Andy Garcia has aged remarkably well.  So I’ve come up with a compromise - I’ve got a pic that I think falls midway between a young and current day (I’ll NOT call him old!) Andy Garcia.  It’s pretty effing Hot.  And I know E. would agree!  (I’m giving her a hard time but I totally jest…specifications are welcome on Hot Man Diet…I mean, I am planning a future shout-out to a young Marlon Brando, and you can bet your ass I will be uber-clear that I do indeed mean a YOUNG Marlon Brando…’cause he was so freaking Hot when he was young, but he was so freaking not when he got old)  E. - I kid because I love!  Enjoy the Hotness of ageless Andy Garcia…he’s here for you!       

Have a wonderful weekend!  Safe travels to all of you heading home for the holidays.  As for me, I’ll be stuck in a mall doing some VERY last minute shopping.  Wish me great parking spots and short checkout lines!  I’ll see you guys next Monday with a Christmas Eve HMD.  Toodles!