Tom Hardy, His Nipples And Tit Tats Are On The Cover Of Esquire

Here’s noted puppy cuddler and former camwhore Tom Hardy (born name: Ed Hardy) on the cover of Esquire looking like what your top daddy cellmate  looks like in your prison fantasies when in real life your cellmate would probably look like fat KFed and have chronic diarrhea. I don’t know if all of those tattoos on Tom’s titties are real, but if they are, then one of his goals in life must be to have a chest that looks like the paper bag book cover of a 9th grade emo chola from the 90s. Those “smile now, cry later” masks, the crow, the Union Jack…. It looks like an emo chola drew on him with a fine tip Sharpie in the middle of homeroom and all he’s missing is a drawing of a crying clown and a lyric to a Morrissey song.

Tom tells Esquire that he may look like a tattooed up, bearded pitbull on the outside, but on the inside he’s a newborn fluffy kitty:

“I have always been frightened with men. To the point where I couldn’t go into a gym because of the testosterone and I felt weak. I don’t feel very manly. I don’t feel rugged and strong and capable in real life, not how i imagine a man ought to be. So I seek it, to mimic it and maybe understand it, or maybe to draw it into my own reality. People who are scary, they terrify me, but I can imitate them. I’m not a fighter. I’m a petite little bourgeosis boy from London. I don’t fight, I mimic.”

That sums up my entire junior high school gym experience until I stopped acting butch, because I realized I came off as Anybodys from West Side Story.

Is Tom trying to say that if you hook up with him you might think you’re getting a rough trade, “spit on your hole, ” “twist your nipples until they’re sore” kind of bitch, but you’re really going to get a dude who likes to tenderly kiss your nose while doing you missionary style and will silently weep after he cums. Either way, I would.

There’s two more pictures of  Tender Tom after the cut.