Oh Michael Vartan I don't know how you do it. I don't mean how you turn my knees into little puddles because that's obvious: the sickeningly chiseled jaw, twinkly eyes, artfully scruffy stubble and mouth constantly on the verge of a smile pretty much speak for themselves.
I mean how have you convinced me that you're incredibly smart, funny and probably very good at fixing the sink or something when I can't think of a single genuinely great movie or TV show I've seen you in. I never watched Alias, where apparently you became a sex symbol and, although I have watched and enjoyed both Never Been Kissed and Rogue pardon me if I don't think you'll be necessarily highlighting those two items on your CV. Or maybe you will because what are the alternatives? Those episodes of Ally McBeal you'd rather forget? To Wong Foo Thanks for Everything? The Next Best Thing? Oh really?
And yet you manage to come off as terribly urbane and witty, even while delivering shiteful B-grade line after shiteful B-grade line. Is it because you wear suits a lot? Because you speak French? Because you managed to convince me you actually found Drew Barrymore attractive? Maybe it's just because you're really, really hot and I'm really, really superficial. Hard to say.