Hrithik Roshan must have a small weenie. Either that or he's an alien. Seriously, how can anyone have hair that perfect, skin that just never shows any wear and tear, and THAT body? Given he has six fingers one one hand and ears that are elongated, I'm leaning towards the possibility of his being an alien. With a small weenie.
Farhan Akhtar on the other hand - now HE is very human and very very sexy. He has the kind of hair that you know has seen some bad days, skin that's as pockmarked as the dark side of the moon, and a body that isn't too far away, with diligent gymming. And airbrushing.
As for Abhay Deol - he's hot enough, but in a gay way. The kind you know you won't fall for, because it'll be too funny when he's trying to seduce you with that voice.
Now that we have that out of the way, proceeding to the movie Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara... brilliant first half, supremely lame second half, Katrina Kaif should never be allowed to open her mouth, every woman should try not to be Kalki Koechlin, and clearly the hottest men end up with the most pointless of women, so tatasthu.
And, let's see, Delhi Belly... really not as vulgar as it could've been, though I could just be saying that because I live with a boy and my tolerance levels for disgust have multiplied manifold. I'm not quite repressed enough to fall out of my seat laughing at the word 'tatti' being used in public, so I'm sure I didn't enjoy it as much as the average Indian, but in it's defense, it's more amusing than that Hangover II nonsense.
I spent most of the movie wondering why the writers thought anyone would get a Mill on the Floss reference. And also if that lead actress was a lesbian. And whether Shenaz had had a boob job and/or was a vampire. And whether I hate you (like I love you) was only funny because we live in the era of Justin Bieber. So all in all, a thought provoking movie, Delhi Belly.
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