Semper Fine

One of this neighborhood's downsides is the lack of eye candy. (That and the crushing suburban dullness.) But there are some exceptions, most notably the 26-year-old Marine who moved in next door a few months ago.

Strikingly handsome with a body that won't quit, you can almost sense women ovulating when he approaches. I know I do. And unlike the last stud-puppy neighbor, this one isn't unnerved by people in wheelchairs. He probably attributes the drooling to my medical condition, which is only half accurate.

His friendliness actually presents a problem: As Dan noted, it's hard to maintain eye contact with such a magnificent chest in your face. Straight guys aren't the only ones who appreciate a great rack.

I'm not even put off by seeing him head out every Sunday morning in a crisply pressed outfit, a Bible in his meaty paw. Somehow it works for him.

Can't get too attached, though; he's not here to stay. He bought the place for a song after its longtime owner died, and he's been busily fixing it up ever since. As soon as the market picks up, he likely will too.