Just a little over a week after America voted Obama in for another four years, we now know the results to an even more important contest: Channing Tatum IS the Sexiest Man ALIVE! Surprise, surprise. I guess this is People’s way of telling us that all the other white men died.
The big difference between last week’s contest and this week’s contest, besides this one being more important, of course, is that those dictators at People Magazine didn’t even let us vote, really. They didn’t even take our thoughts (or genitals) into consideration. Whoever’s publicist offered up the biggest promise got the title. That title is bought! (“Um, so is the title of President, Michael” – my Republican auntie at Thanksgiving dinner as I try to suffocate myself on a canned cranberry log)
To me, Channing Tatum looks like a stale loaf of Wonder Bread, but he’s a stale loaf of Wonder Bread who can really twerk his crust off to Pony, he’s everywhere and he seems nice. Channing looks like a caveman, but he’s the kind of caveman who’d wink at you before he clubs you over the skull and drags you off to his man cave. Channing tells People that he told his wife about his new title while the two pinched their dogs’ anal glands in the tub:
“My first thought was, ‘Y’all are messing with me,'” says Tatum, who married actress Jenna Dewan-Tatum in 2009. “I told Jenna after we’d been in the bathtub washing our dogs because they’d gotten skunked.”
Says the actor: “She was like, ‘What?'”
“Yeah, she calls me [the Sexiest Man Alive] now,” he adds. And who can blame her?
The only way I’d completely agree with that cover is if Carrot Top was the star of it, but I still love what People did there. When I first saw it this morning, I read the words “The Women Inside The Petraeus Scandal” and then looked at that picture of Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez. It was so right. I mean, the Biebs is a threat to security.