I want to eat ice cream on a bench, any bench anywhere, but especially in New York, with Mark Ruffalo any time. Even in winter. Even when it’s raining. Whatever. I’m there. It would crush me if he were the cliché. But he’s not. So we have nothing to worry about.
The thing about Mark Ruffalo is that he makes even the non-gushy girls gushy. Duana is not a gushy girl. She’s not prone to crushing and writing imaginary meet-cute screenplays about Ryan Gosling or whatever. Bring the conversation around to Mark Ruffalo however and her voice goes up, almost squeaky. Last week we were on a conference call and she was all business and then Mark Ruffalo somehow came up and Duana allowed herself to be distracted. She may have even giggled. That’s Mark Ruffalo.
Look at him with his slouchy t-shirt and rumpled hair, greying all over, matching his beard. And then that voice...
Oh God.
Wait. There are a few of you out there, more than a few, who aren’t convinced right?
Please. Watch. Watch him commit to that conversation with his hand on his face holding an imaginary phone! Come on! (I’ve now just killed Duana’s entire day.)
July 19, 2012 at 11:55
