The Jesse Bradford Experience

.

Comedy To Tragedy In The Span Of One Swig.

Oh Jesse Bradford. Where have you been? Off getting your drink on, I guess. I did just see you ever-so-briefly in Oliver Stone's W. as an abusive frat boy (although your hazing of Josh Brolin was woefully under-served):

(Jesse's not even in this picture; I couldn't find a picture
of him anywhere on the entire internet from the movie!)

But mostly your adorableness doesn't drift onto my radar often enough. I'm only thinking of you right now because I saw someone just got to MNPP by searching for the phrase, "Jesse Bradford Boxers or Briefs"... to you, sweet searcher, I offer the answer via Happy Endings:


I'm just gonna take this opportunity to ramble a bit on Jesse since I never do. When did I fall for him? The moment I fell for Jesse Bradford hits me as quite obvious:


This scene in Bring It On is magic, but I've gone there before. Twice. It sparkles, it shimmers, it glows. And then he went and made a movie where he was a swimmer and the movie gave us too little skin to win. A shame. A Shame!


Besides his tiiiny part in W., the last time I saw him anywhere was in Clint Eastwood's Flags of Our Fathers (a movie I still have never found the patience to sit through).

(Ryan Phillippe cutting his hair
aka check another fetish off the list)

He was in some rom-com with Elisha Cuthbert called My Sassy Girl (ugh), which I only mention because the featured user comment on its IMDb page is the following:

"So terrible, I wanted to vomit!"

Ha. Everybody's a critic! Anyway, thanks to that anonymous eternal-underwear-question searcher for putting Jesse on my brain. Here are some more random pics, just cuz...


And here are a bunch of pictures of him from some 2001 flick called According to Spencer wherein he apparently (haven't seen the movie) dons a fireman costume for a porn flick:

Checking yet another fetish off the list. Thanks, Jesse!
You're too good to me, really.
.