Because you look like a magestic creature which we dream of rolling "over together in a happy laughing heap of fur and arms and legs" and that it can be either "like playing with a thunderstorm or playing with a kitten...". Reading The Chronicles of Narnia while rain is pouring down we get more and more convince that fantastic men, or simply the feeling of passion, are pretty much like Aslan the lion.

At the name of Aslan each one of the children felt something jump in its inside. Edmund felt a sensation of mysterious horror. Peter felt suddenly brave and adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delightful strain of music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realize that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of summer.
/.../

His voice was deep and rich and somehow tooke the fidgets out of them. They now felt glad and quiet and it didn't seem awkward to them to stand and say nothing.

Excerpts from The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis. Photo by Sandra Beijer

Because we love an unshaved man in bright sunlight.

Reading the September issue of Scottish GLAMOUR, we find amusing, very real life oriented excerpts from mis-communication between the sexes;

From him
Subject: Last night
Great night. That gold dress is so sexy. Can't stop thinking about you.

From her
Subject: Re:Last night
You and I went out last week. I wore trousers.
-----

Her What an amazing night - thanks sooooo much. I've been waiting my whole life to meet someone like you. When are we next going out, handsome?

Him Was great, will get my PA to pencil in next free eve I have.
-----

You are so sexy, sometimes I think I never want to sleep with anyone else ever again.

In the Swazi Observer, we read that the King has "noted that Swaziland was blessed because the economic melt-down has not dampened the spirit of the people of Eswati. He said prayer was the solution to the prevailing economic situation."

At first, this seemed like unusual approach to dealing with things. But further reading the South African Sunday Times we got the suggestion to; "Benefit from the "law of attraction". This is the idea that out thoughts influence our reality. Bearing it in mind can help increase the chances of success."

In other words, a great way to solve a crisis by having the whole population think and reflect over it, rather than a finance minister pushing a button or two. Hence, there ought to be no better way to find the men of your dreams than thinking about boys constantly.

Because the previous Nobel laureate in Economics take pleasure in playing with words such as; "Efforts to negotiate a resolution to Europe's banana split proved fruitless". And we love both deserts and negotiations, which all sound like wonderful activities to enjoy in the company of pretty boys like you.

Well, because it is knowing that guys like you lurk around Barcelona that make us find some proper internet connection in Mozambique.

Because you look like a distant cousin to our latest crush, the handsome revolutionary, who sautees shrimp in cilantro, does his homework, speak Portugese, thinks he is Che Guevara, pushes all the right bottons in our political disagreements and still manages to makes our knees weak even while the socialist manifests hurts our ears. And it was quite a while since we last felt how terrible attractive it can be to not get along.

We were watching Lord of War last night, and a few more memorable lines of romantic character, ringing especially true, were; "You can't force someone to fall in love with you.
But you can definitely improve your chances".

In the case of Nicholas Cage he pretty much buys the whole island of St. Barths. We suggest a a somewhat cheaper alternative; grow a beard, enjoy hanging out with kids, ride a horse and live like a gentleman in the English countryside.

Burton, the great seducer, appeared to ignore her at first, then he edged over to her and said fatuously, "Has anybody ever told you that you're a very pretty girl?"As recounted in her 1965 memoir, Elizabeth Taylor, she couldn't believe the lameness of that gambit. "Here's the great lover, the great wit, the great intellectual of Wales, and he comes out with a line like that.

Having discovered one of the great love affairs of the past century in a lay around number of Vanity Fair, we are even more convinced of the catastrophe that faces mankind if the art of writing love letters should become extinct. Richard Burton's correspondence with his lady, Liz, simply makes us wish that more men would surrender to love totally.

Well, first of all, you must realize that I worship you. Second of all, at the expense of seeming repetitive, I love you. Thirdly, and here I go again with my enormous command of language, I can't live without you. Thirdly, I mean fourthly, you have an enormous responsibility because if you leave me I shall have to kill myself. There is no life without you, I'm afraid. And I am afraid. Afeared. In terms of my life, scared. Lost. Alone. Dull . Dumb. (That will be the day.) And fifthly , and I hope I will never repeat myself, I fancy you. I bet that you would be alright if you loved me and stuff like that.
---

I love you, lovely woman. If anybody hurts you, just send me a line saying something like "Need" or 'Necessary" or just the magic word "Elizabeth," and I will be there somewhat faster than sound. You must know, of course, how much I love you. You must know, of course, how badly I treat you. But the fundamental and most vicious, swinish, murderous, and unchangeable fact is that we totally misunderstand each other... we operate on alien wavelenghts. You are as distant as Venus - planet, I mean - and I am tone-deaf to the music of the spheres.
---

...so why don't you come down and visit me? I'll show you a good time... I love you. Very very very odd curious strange bizarre unattractive without you. Millions of kisses and hugs. The bed is huge!

All excerpts from A Love Too Big To Last by Sam Kashner and Nancy Schoenberger, Vanity Fair, July 2010.

Because if it is snowing in Stockholm, that's a great excuse to stay inside and make out all day with one of all the pretty natives.
But we still rather prefer the warm breeze of the Indian Ocean and laying poolside in Maputo.

Because we are slowly dying of thirst for newspapers or magazines made of paper, written in a language that we understand and filled with fun facts, stories, ideas and pictures of new, pretty boys. Like you.