My friends and people I meet constantly remark that I look like a taller, younger, more rested interpretation Anthony Hopkins -- pre Hannibal Lector with buzzed gray hair, muscular but not muscle morphish and a reasonably firm well-defined midsection about which I'm much more vain and concerned about than my cock. However, after far too many hours staring in mirrors I don't see any facial parts in common with the Welsh actor. Something I find a far more unsettling is that I never appear to be the same person from photograph to photograph. The Squeeze, with whom the camera lens is in love, looks better in photos than in real life . . . and in real life he's quite stunning. But me? I possess the most un-photogenic face possible. Friends frequently thumb through our photo albums and ask "Who's are all these other guys with The Squeeze?" only to argue that they all cannot possibly be me until they see photos of me completely naked and appearing very pleased with myself. In those nude photos there is no question the appendage dangling to my knees belongs to me, but my face rarely matches how I appear in person except for my gray/white goatee and moustache.
Fortunately, like my dick, one other physical trait stands out: I have real emerald green eyes which render on film as either half open or look as though I'm nodding out on heroin. I prefer to think they belie a certain lassitude and are possibly bedroom-ish? At which point I return to reality and accept the fact I'm just getting old. At this stage in my life I toy with the idea that little blephoplasty might help? But I'm afraid of ending up looking a bit Asian when the scars tighten and heal. Not that there's anything with being Asian, but . . . . :redface: