So the general sentiment here at Gawker seems to be that we officially have a boner for Neil Patrick Harris. The openly gay actor has avoided the wearisome pigeon-hole traps that other out actors like Rupert Everett have fallen into (though, he was in a movie with him once, playing gay) and is able to play straight dudes on TV (How I Met Your Mother: No I Will Not Get to The Point Already), in movies (Harold & Kumar Do Things While Stoned), and in national ad campaigns. Plus he sings and dances and is good with little ones! So yeah, all around a pretty down to earth, un-swishy, monogamous, famous geigh dude who can party with the bros. He's a homo hero! Except, I dunno, for me? Something just doesn't feel quite right.

I mean, an actor is an actor is an actor. They should be able to play pretend however they want. Man or woman, straight or gay, superhero or superhobo. It's their job. Harris is, as it turns out, adept at playing a filth-talking pussy chaser ("suit up!" barf.) But, increasingly, it feels just a little overdone. What with the "fur burgers" and the Old Spice mugging, and the new Out magazine profile in which he's pictured swilling beers and leaning on motorcycles. Doesn't it seem a bit... sublimatey? As my esteemed boss (and chief boner-haver) said to me: "It's almost as if his character in Harold and Kumar is so over the top and debauched that fucking guys is just the kind of crazy thing he'd do when particularly high." He sees that as a good thing, sorta funny, you know? I see it as bad. Or at least annoying.

Perhaps I'm being uncharacteristically uppity, but that theory makes it seem like, I dunno, Harris is making fun of being gay. Or is at least choosing to be the one freak who gets to hang out with the cool kids, leaving the rest of us behind. Is this the new way to be out in Hollywood-tiptoe out of the closet then wildly overcompensate in the other direction? I'm not saying that he should be prancing around movie sets blowing Bobby Cannavale, but why are we gender norming the bejeesus out this thing? It's totally naive, I know, but isn't there some middle ground here? If he really does want to chill on motorcycles and swill beer and make a living talking about poontang, then fine. But let's not congratulate him so effusively for it. It makes the rest of us seem insecure. And, oddly, a bit jealous. And we're not. Are we? (Actually, don't answer that.)

Or, you know, fuck it. He called Anderson Cooper "dreamy." I guess that's good enough for me.