It's been awhile between Token Smokin' Hotties. What can I say? There is, sadly, only a certain amount of hotties in the world and I can cover only so many of them. But what better way to reignite the category with a surefire winner?
What is it possible to say about Paul Newman in his prime? That he was a slamming hottie? Check. That his eyes make me want to lock him in my basement? Double Check. The Gravitas? Oh yes - there's that.
There's the other stuff about him being lovely and charitable and responsible for darn tasty pasta sauces and salad dressings, of course. And there's his famous - and adorable - comment defending fidelity ("why go out for hamburger when you have steak at home?"). Naturally one can't forget that he is a great actor capable of making the hairs on one's arm stand on end - even with his shirt on. But none of that matters here. This is the circle of token smokin' hotties in which only superficial charms are measured. I'm talking face and eyes and torso and the delicious thoughts they inspire. Luckily for him - and us - he's got them in spades too.