So I finally saw Boondock Saints tonight. Yes, yes, yes, I'd never seen it before despite the fact that everyone and their grandma's dog who'd seen it told me I'd love it something awful. StFU! I've seen it now, ok. Better late than never, right? Well, you guys were so right about me loving the sh*t out of that film, but that's not the point.

Point: I TOTALLY get some women's compulsion to have brothers. To HAVE brothers. Totally get it now. Couldn't choose. Shouldn't have to. Two. Connor and Murphy MacManus... damn. I mean, DAMN. Quite sexy. Quite sexy the both of them.

I need a scrappy Irishman in my bed. Yep. Or possibly two of them. Yep. I mean, hello, tattoos. They so had the tattoos! Tattoos are a great weakness of mine. The right man with the right tattoo can make my knees go weak. Especially if it happens to be on his pelvic bone. This is followed quite closely by side-of-the-neck tats.

But perhaps that was too much information? With the pelvic bone thing? Oh well. Boondock Saints... two thumbs way up. Will be buying soon so I can rewatch over and over and over and, oh, over again.