Guilty Pleasures
23 guilty pleasures men will never cop to–but will always be slaves to
By: Mike Zimmerman
[Men’s Health]
- Fantasizing about her friends, her cousin, her mom, and all of the other women whose hotness is multiplied exponentially by their unavailability.
- Sitting in the boss’s chair when he’s gone.
- Angry Phil Collins: “In the Air Tonight.” “I Don’t Care Anymore.” “Mama.” And when you’re alone, air drums.
- Those cheerleading competitions on ESPN2. Go ahead and watch. They want you to. It’s . . . Oh! Kay!
- Binoculars. Neighbors. You do the math.
- Deep, emotional conversations with your closest buddy. The best part: Once you have one, neither of you will ever mention it again.
- The “Confessions” page of Cosmopolitan magazine. Your girlfriend’s copy, of course.
- Karaoke. You do it because it makes the girls giggle. But deep down, you know you’re better than Mick.
- Every friggin’ word that comes out of Jessica Simpson’s pouty li’l mouth.
- Cotton sheets with a thread count higher than Ted Williams’s career batting average. A little knowledge of fabric is nothing to be ashamed of at bedtime.
- You probably call it something like “scuttlebutt” or “intel.” Why not call it what it is: gossip.
- Warm Krispy Kremes. I mean, good God.
- Pottery Barn. Restoration Hardware. Pier 1 Imports. You “tolerate” browsing there to mollify your lady–and to trade off a trip to the sports bar afterward–but for weeks you’ve been eyeing that Persian/Taiwanese rug and the monogrammed barbecue-utensil set. And wouldn’t that Amish-made bookcase just kill in your den?
- Flexing your fingers on the steering wheel. Waiting. Revving. Then blowing the poor sap next to you off the line.
- Slippers!
- A cheeky chardonnay.
- Picking scabs, popping zits, and giving that mosquito bite one good scratch before vowing never to touch it again.
- Movies like Old School that make you think, If only . . .
- Saturday-morning reruns. Saved by the Bell (TBS) leading into a couple of 90210s (FX) fills your Tiffani Thiessen quota and is good hangover therapy.
- Even better hangover therapy: the Kevin Costner triptych of Waterworld, Wyatt Earp, and Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.
- Googling yourself.
- Kelly Ripa. It ain’t her talk-show chops. Maybe it’s how she and Faith Ford smeared chocolate over each other. Maybe it’s her domineering hotness. But it’s definitely something.
- Your filthiest, most psychotic erotic fantasy–the one that’s either too dark, too dirty, or too illegal to mention. Don’t worry. Every guy has one.











