My Men

J.D.? No, not my type. He would be good to hang out with but there could be no romance or sex involvement whatsoever. Not appealing in that way, but yes to just about any other way.

Turk? I’m not sure I was ever that young.

Dr. Kelso? I would have slapped his sorry self to Kingdom Come and back.

Ted? Don’t laugh, but it would be tempting to try. He’s a singer. Plus, to paraphrase Benjamin Franklin when he was speaking of elderly whores, Ted would be so grateful.

The Tod? His sexist remarks are not nearly as insulting as Dr. Kelso’s. I do loathe PC. And the Tod is a crackerjack surgeon, so he’s not as stupid as he acts. He’s also drop dead gorgeous. But, no.

Dr. Perry Cox? Be still my heart. His sarcasm, his put-downs, his witty repartee, his incredibly intelligent rambling twelve-paragraph insults. . . . he’s like, the perfect man. He’s also really, really cute. But it’s the sarcastic insults that hooked me. No, I wouldn’t use them. But I might if I could think of them in time. In real life, he would probably make me cry. But I would be lost in admiration of his wit, even through my tears. Even if I hated him, I would never walk away from his intellect. Besides, people, OFFICE SPACE.

Hawkeye Pierce? No way. He is incredibly annoying.

Trapper John? If he weren’t married.

Henry Blake? Ditto.

Colonel Potter? Ditto.

B.J. Hunnicutt? Ditto, but I’d think about it. I wouldn’t, but I’d think about it.

Father Mulcahey? Not in the running. But if he were. . . .

Frank Burns? I would have poisoned him after knowing him for five minutes.

Klinger? No.

Donald? No. Too dumb.

Radar? Same category as Ted. Close call.

Colonel Flagg? Heh.

Sidney? Same category as J.D.