the bad boy.

Well, friends, my nose is no longer pierced. I made it one whole week before I had a minor panic attack and twisted that stud out my nasal cavity in a fit of cleanliness. Turns out I am, in reality, not nearly as cool as I thought I was for that seven day period, and I'm back to my regular ol' self, for better or for worse. I must say though, having that ring in my nose seriously changed the way I thought of myself. Every time I looked in the mirror I saw edge, mystery, and for lack of a better word, hard-ness. I was a bitch not to be messed with; a red-head with a dark side and a chip on my shoulder. Baked Lay, most likely. I have to say, I liked having that extra-something, loved that when I was looked at by passers-by my cool-factor was instantly upped by my hole. And yet, the second I came face-to-face with my superiors at work, I felt uncontrollably embarrassed. Thankfully, I knew this wild side was only temporary, and that I'd soon regress to being just a pretty face. But it got me thinking about those whose very identity surrounds the look that is often deemed by society as "bad".

No sooner did I visualize this that I began to feel the same rush I felt when I entered the piercing studio that fateful day last week. This was followed by a tingling in my lady-bits and a wave of realization: I've yet to address a gargantuan pleasure so many of us women-folk are guilty of: lusting after the bad boy.

You know them well. Hyper-masculine, untamed, callous. Surprisingly well-dressed. Often under the influence of any number of mind-alterers, occasionally tattooed. Large chance of having served hard time. And yet, irresistibly sexy.

While I normally have my way with words here, I'm in the mood to be presented with beauty on a silver platter. Here's a slideshow of some of the most drool-worthy bad boys in history. Pick your favorite and ponder the excitement of being mistreated by Mr. Wrong purely for the sake of physicality. Swoon!