I'm an American, so I naturally base every single one of my perceptions of other nations on the mass-media portrayals of them that we receive here in the States, which is why I've always known that Britain is populated almost exclusively by lisping, wussy, frilly costume-wearing snobs who use the Metric system (a.k.a. "the arithmetic of faggotry," copyright Kirk Boxleitner 2008), with the rare exceptions to this rule including a) terrifyingly efficient arch-villains in action movies, b) anarchic travelers through time and space, c) ministers of silly walks and d) creepy children who willingly charge into bigger-on-the-inside clothes closets to fight and die on behalf of leonine allegories for Christ.

All that being said, I have to give credit where it's due to the backwards-ass little driving-on-the-wrong-fucking-side-of-the-road-like-retards country whose asses we soundly thrashed two centuries ago - as chronicled in the 100-percent historically accurate movie The Patriot, a documentary filmed in real time, in which Mel Gibson won independence for America by single-handedly defeating Lord Cornwallis in a WWE Monday Night Raw wrestling match on board the battleship Yamato in the wake of Pearl Harbor - because whatever your people may lack in non-frightening dentistry, you've more than made up for in your consistently impressive output of enduringly hot, fine-ass bitches.

And for once, this will be a post that doesn't even refer to Elisabeth Sladen, or any of the other women who have appeared on Doctor Who (except for this one mention just now, obviously).

Helen Mirren, for those of you who don't know (although you should), is one of those exceptional actors who actually deserves the critical praise she gets, because she can turn even completely unworthy dogshit like Teaching Mrs. Tingle into something semi-watchable, simply by appearing onscreen in it. In addition to being a highly regarded no-shit-real-deal Royal Shakespearean actress, Dame Helen has appeared in everything from 2010: The Year We Make Contact and The Mosquito Coast to Gosford Park and The Madness of King George, the latter alongside equally MOTHERFUCKING WIN British actor Sir Nigel Hawthorne (we still miss you, Sir Humphrey). That being said, she's arguably gained her greatest fame as the lead in Prime Suspect, which, between that and Cracker, are the types of compelling, provocative cop dramas that I'd say we Americans should be trying to produce more of ourselves, except that we have tried, and we've almost always managed to fuck it up in translation.

Anyway, all that being said, Dame Helen is also 63 years old, and I'm telling you that so that I can tell you this; she recently hit the beaches of Italy wearing nothing but a bikini, and this is what a 63-year-old British woman looks like:



Holy fucking shit, and in case you didn't get all of that the first time around, let me just repeat:



Holy fucking shit, dude.

Any man who would not rip through steel doors, like Wolverine armed with adamantium claws, to tear that ass up? Is not only gay, but clinically dead.

Anyway, I'm sure that Dame Helen will be pleased to hear this, coming as it does from an unwashed porn-obsessed American peasant such as myself, but at the tender young age of 63, she has officially become the runaway winner of My Penis, in my ongoing Oldest Chick I Would Sling My Ropes On contest.