Is it Hot in Here or is that Johnny Depp Ringing My Doorbell?

I suppose earlier generations of women would understand. They had Clark Gable. They swooned for Frank Sinatra. Lucy and Ethel pursued William Holden and Richard Widmark just for a peek. There have always been good-looking men for female adoration, especially in the days of elegant movie theaters and cloth hankies, but I wonder if its ever been quite like this.
Thanks to recent postings by friends on FaceBook...and how utterly un-elegant a venue...I've given more than a little thought to Mr. Depp. Mention his name and 17 women will appear and say "ahhhh," in unison. Refer to a movie of his and 17 more will come forward with quotes, comments on what he wore in which scene, and how at any given time they would chuck it all for a swing from the mast of that ship with Johnny.
I confess. I'd let Edward cut my hair in a heartbeat. Benny could stick a fork in my dinner rolls, dance them on the counter, and I'd be thrilled to accompany him on a kazoo. The Mad Hatter can put his hats in my hat boxes and to heck with my headgear.
And Johnny...whose brain passed sexy seventeen billion syntax's ago. Well, I'm just sayin'...is it hot in here?