Glenderful's Shit List: Pedro Pascal

Whether you call it the Law of Attraction, manifestation, or just screaming your horny prayers into the void, the rule is simple: energy flows where obsession goes. Back in my broke 20s as a Hill staffer, I made a vision board with Scotch tape and pure delusion. By year's end? Every single chaotic dream walked right off that poster and into my life. The Universe is always listening—but here's the plot twist: what you get is never the stock-photo version. It's messier, filthier, and so much hotter. And that's the entire point.

So, let's pivot. Time to open Glenderful's Shit List, and tonight's guest of honor is Pedro. Freaking. Pascal.

Let's talk about the man serving main character energy at 50, looking like he was carved from volcanic rock and daddy issues. That nose is a weapon. That jawline, shadowed with silver-fox stubble, is a dare for your tongue. His smile hits like a bar fight you're desperate to lose, and his eyes? They're emotional terrorism. He doesn't walk into a room—he prowls. His chest is broad, his wrists are thick, his shoulders test the structural integrity of every shirt he wears. This is a body that doesn't need a gym selfie; it needs to pin you against drywall. This is desire with teeth.

And the Latinx energy? Unmatched. It’s that perfect blend of danger and warmth, where family is everything and cultural pride runs deep. Pedro’s Chilean roots aren't a fun fact—they're his origin story. Born under a dictatorship, smuggled out as a baby, raised by parents in exile—he carries the weight of survival in every role. He's not just hot; he's heritage. He's the diaspora, and he's pure sex.

Then came The Last of Us. A performance so raw it made grief look sexy. He gave us Joel—a man feral with tenderness, stoic until he shattered. He denied Gen Z their instant TikTok catharsis and made us wait for the breaking point. The show was about ruin and love, but it was Pedro’s soul leaking through the cracks that made it unmissable. They called it his peak, but for me? It was proof he can wreck you emotionally and physically in one sitting.

And his advocacy? He doesn't just wear a rainbow pin in June. This man is LOUD. He champions his trans sister, Lux, with pride, dragged J.K. Rowling for her bigotry, and wears "Protect Trans Lives" like a badge of honor. That's not allyship—that's family. That's ride-or-die. And that alone earns him a permanent spot on the list.

His diet? Absolute mania!! This man fuels up on dry Cap’n Crunch like a toddler on a sugar bender. His Starbucks order is a war crime—six shots of espresso over ice, basically legalized anxiety. He crushes Tex-Mex like it’s his job, from Taco Cabana drive-thrus to homemade Chilean alfajores. Sometimes he’s plant-based, sometimes he’s deep-fried, always with a side of bourbon. It's chaos cuisine, and it’s only making him hotter. I truly (please, Universe!) can't wait to get the leftovers.

Pedro Pascal is the whole package—art, advocacy, and absolute chaos. So consider this your official invitation, papi. You’ve been enshrined on Glenderful’s Shit List. The throne is yours. I'M BEGGING!