Mr. March

Earlier this week, I was invited to one of those obligatory holiday office party by a pharmaceutical consulting company that hires me for graphic design work. Since I know everyone at this company on a professional level, I was really surprised when one of these techies asked me about my "Sexmas Calendar". Of course, those two little words caught the entire room's attention, so the casual holiday conversation went right into the gutter and evolved into a game of "Name the Hottest Hairy-Chested Guy".  I was half-flattered, half-disturbed that fifteen pharmaceutical professionals were wracking their brains to find a way to turn on my mother, but I figured they could write it all off as "Clinical Research" for a more potent female Viagra drug or something.

By the end of the night, I received a list of about 50 people, but the name that really caught my attention was Marlon Brando. I totally forgot about Mr. Brando, probably because I've never seen any of his films (yes, that include "The Godfather" - try not to look so shocked). Fortunately, I've watched enough parodies to know that it would be funny to have a shirtless, hairy, tubby, Italian guy with cotton balls stuffed in his word hole as my Mr. March.

I googled Marlon Brando and was surprised and the amount handsome photos...
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