Snarkling Clean

Snarkling Clean- because you don't have to cuss to make fun of stuff. Two dedicated readers discuss romance novels- from what made us weep with joy to what made us want to poke pencils through our eyeballs.

Monday, October 03, 2005

Hunky Guys in Kilts

Ah, the kilt...

Oh, sorry. Had to mop up some drool. Just what is it about a kilt, d'ya think? Mostly, men in skirts make you feel squicky.

But a kilt just isn't a skirt, darn it! And medieval Scots weren't just men, at least judging by the number of romances written about them. And my own personal shelves groan under their huge Highland weight, let me tell you. I am confessing to you now:

I am a Highlander romance addict.

Blame me?

I've tried to figure it out. Your average romance Scot, esp. the medieval types (but they all become medieval by the end of the book, don't they?) are the ultimate alpha males. They're almost cavemen, fer pity's sake. And in real life, I run from those men. Sure, it's all hearts palpitating and awareness frissoning and belly-spreading warmth now...

but you're probably about two months away from bagpipe songs played on his armpit. And two years away from bellowing for his dinner. In fifteen years, he'll be, in Roseanne's words, a recliner that burps. And embarrassing you totally when he gets together with the guys from the old clan.

But romance isn't about real life, right? That's why I can still read, enjoy, dream and believe that a Neanderthal clansman who steals cattle from his friends and kills anyone who looks at him wrong and is the fiercest warrior to ever roam the Highlands could become a quivering puddle of haggis at my feet, who loves me for the lassie I am. And when he ages, he's going to look like this...

Hey. It's my story and I'm sticking to it.


Blogger Missie said...


Wow. Can I have what's in the first picture for Christmas? I been a goooood girl this year. ;) He so pretty.

While on vacation, we drove through a town out in the middle of nowhere in Central Oregon. Now, we've been through this town before, and I had remembered that their high school mascot is the Highlander, complete with kilt and pipes. Now, there is nothing really remotely Scottish about this town that I can see. Just before pulling out of town, I had the ultimate squick-experience...I saw a man walking down the street dressed in a kilt. And he was not buff. Neither was he young. Nor was he in any way handsome. He did have long hair, but it wasn't the flow in the breeze, heroine gets her hand caught up in it while passionately kissing type. It was the "I got up this morning and combed my hair with a porkchop" type. He had the little purse thingie hanging from his belt and even had the Scottish beret thing too (forgot what they were called).

It scared me. And scarred me. Bad.

I am just happy my children didn't see him. Our insurance doesn't cover psychotherapy.

Maybe next time I pass through, I will stop at the restaurant on the main drag, "The Highlander Chinese and American Food"...I kid you not.

12:28 PM  
Blogger Bernita said...


12:37 PM  
Anonymous Jolene said...

Hum..the nice buff guy in the middle in the long flowing skirt...if he didn't have a skirt and maybe a nice pair of jeans..hum..he'd be hott. :)


As for the kilted men..aye their right pretty. Depends on the guy in the kilt.

12:48 PM  
Blogger Robyn said...

Did I mention the boys from the old clan are my sixth grade crushes, the Bay City Rollers?


1:40 PM  
Blogger Missie said...

Those are the Bay City Rollers? My brothers used to listen to them all the time. They rank right up there with KC and the Sunshine Band! Who used to sing, "I'm your boogie man, that's what I am!" ?

2:04 PM  
Blogger Robyn said...

That's KC, darling.

Shake your booty.

3:37 PM  
Blogger Missie said...

If I did that, the tremors alone could cause another tsunami.

7:23 PM  
Blogger Anna said...

The third picture from the top is swoonworthy. Why can't we have romance covers like that? Can I get one for my book? Of course I'd have to write a Scottish book first, but I can do it, really I can.

The boys from the old clan, yep, Bay City Rollers, and I was mad for them in sixth grade, too.

Then there's Sean Connery, he who is like fine wine.

6:49 AM  
Blogger Robyn said...

Absolutely, Anna. Sean may be 186 years old, but I don't know any woman who doesn't swoon on his voice alone.

And is Liam Neeson not the yummiest Scot ye ever saw?

8:58 AM  
Blogger Missie said...

I wasn't for sure if Liam was Scottish or if he was English. Even if he is a Sassenach, he's such a cute one. :)

10:44 AM  
Anonymous Kaitlin said...

Hey all! I want in on this one too. I have an awesome Highlander experience.

I live in Portland, Oregon and back when I was 19 I worked at one of the malls here. It was late and I was getting ready to close. I was kneeling down on the floor cleaning up a spill and heard someone clear their throat.

I stood up and I kid you not, the hottest man I've ever seen in my life was standing there. He was dressed in full Highlander regalia with a kilt, sporran, you name it. He was about 6'6", with long curly black hair and blue eyes. I was barely able to help him. If I didn't know better, I'd be positive he was a romance novel hero come to life. If only I'd been able to leave and follow him, but unfortunately I didn't get that chance. I still think about that moment ten years later and get a little thrill.

So, there's my hot Highlander story in a nutshell. Enjoy! I know I did! :)

6:06 PM  
Anonymous Bonnie said...

Mmmmmm... Seannnnn Connnnnnneryyyyyy...

10:40 PM  
Blogger Robyn said...

Kaitlin, that was so beautiful I have tears in my eyes. Tears of jealousy.

And I've worked in a mall cookie company. You should've ditched the job and followed the kilt.

6:42 AM  
Anonymous Michelle said...

I LOVE Mel Gibson. I want to take him home and sop his nice little body up with a biscuit. Mmmmm...tasty.

My last book had a hunky Irish warrior in it. They originated the kilts with their own garment that predated the Scots. Wowzers.

3:42 PM  
Anonymous nessili said...

Actually, I thought Liam Neeson was Irish.

As for kilt stories, me and a few college friends were driving through Scotland (leaving Fort William, where Mel filmed Braveheart), and there on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere stood a piper. In full regalia, with this huge stony crag as a backdrop, the otherworldly music of the pipes skirling through the misty air. I can't remember what he looked like, but I had frissons upon frissons. Kilts and bagpipes and the Highlands. Sigh. I wanna go back. I wanna go back real bad.

10:16 AM  

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