The Freebie Five is f&cked. There’s a bug, they can’t get it to update the way I want it to. Soon it will be fixed and when it is… Colin Farrell will occupy the #1 spot. Above Becks, above them all, Colin Farrell is pure sex. Even more in person.

Last night, the Chanel party for his new movie Cassandra’s Dream starring Ewan McGregor and Woody Allen - it was a nice day in Toronto Tuesday. Sun was out, not cool, not hot, just right. I’ve been saving this Alice & Olivia dress I bought at Kiss & Makeup all week. White baby doll with sequins on the top and fringy, feathery folds on bottom (see attached, don’t like the brown shoes they’ve put on the model) – it’s short and super cute, planned to pair with nude Louboutins, black eyeliner, and messy waves…all for Colin.

Five minutes before heading out the door I was like – why is it so loud outside? Are they doing construction this late into the night? Open the curtains and it was a frickin’ typhoon out there. Pouring rain, blistering wind.

And I tried. I tried to be that girl. That girl who will wear the tiny dress with her ass hanging out even during a blizzard.

But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be that girl. So in the end I chose warmth over wanton. A conservative dress with no cleave that stopped past the knee. Having said that, it’s not like it would have mattered. He wanted someone else.

Ewan arrived first. Hot but not hit-you-in-the-gut hot, although the white scarf was a beautiful touch, but I confess, I was too distracted by the missing mole. He used to have one on his forehead. Somehow it’s gone missing. I was fixated on finding it and as such, was unable to establish a loin quivering connection. And he was in a mood.

Besides, we were waiting for Colin.

My producer Sasha and I had joked around about it before. And please… save your sanctimonious emails for someone else. This is how girls tease and giggle in comfortable company. The day before we were reliving the sex tape – she looked me straight in the eye and said, “seriously, he’s so hot I would actually consider contracting a venereal disease if it meant we could hook up.” Best line ever.

Needless to say, when he walked in the door, the room suddenly started pulsing. He is taller than I expected. Not tall tall but not wee. A solid 5 ft 10. And as we all know, he makes up for it elsewhere anyway. Once he looks you in the eye, it’s over. So over. He smells like smoke and man. Like the sexiest man musk ever. And it’s a full time job trying to have a conversation with him too because not only are you trying to keep up with his rapid fire delivery, you’re also trying desperately to prevent your knees from buckling, all the while restraining yourself from abandoning all sense of decorum and licking his face.

Somehow we made it through our chat, he walked away, and Sash and I looked at each other and we were like – Dude. I’m freaking out.

Totally freaking out.

Now about Sash. Sash is half Chinese half Caucasian, without a doubt unanimously one of the most attractive girls I have ever met all around. Incredibly beautiful, the most luscious naturally wavy mane of hair, killer body, and sooo sweet. So generous. Completely unaware of what she looks like. And smart and funny and kind. Sash is perfect. Seriously perfect. I love her. I hate her!

So Sash decides to do a flyby. She needs to make sure we shoot enough b-roll. Snort. Of course she does. On her flyby Colin takes notice. On her way back to me he watches. At this point I’m across the room, near the door, have my back to him, and she’s facing me while we talk. Their eyes lock. A good 15 seconds. Count that out. It"s an eternity. She can’t bear it, she breaks and turns away and starts gathering her things. We’re leaving.

Sash…are you crazy?

No, she says. I can’t.

You realise this is Colin Farrell?

She says no, no, no, we’re working and starts moving toward the door. Now I’m trying to force her to face me again. Because facing me means being in his line of sight. Unfortunately she wouldn’t meet my eyes, turned her back and started walking towards the door. Strutting towards the door.

Her first, then me, then Ryan our camera who is still losing his sh-t over Woody Allen – more on that later. Just at I step across the threshold, I look back and Colin looks up. He sees that Sash is leaving and double takes. Here’s the best: right at that moment, Sash – completely unrehearsed – flips her hair off her face, dazzling me, let alone every other man in the joint, and escaped into the night.

Cut to me five minutes later rolling my eyes in disbelief on Bloor Street.

But this is why Sash is That Girl. The girl who will walk. The girl who is totally ok with knowing about the possibility without having to act on the possibility and face the probability of self skank the next morning.

Sorry if I ran on.

The point is – Colin Farrell is #1. Colin Farrell is the perfect #1.

After Chanel, he headed over to the InStyle party at the Windsor Arms. Paris Hilton’s eyes gleamed when the locked on him, clearly spying her next victim. But if he’s seen her sex tape, chances are he took a pass. Colin is a man who expects a worthy partner in the bedroom. And Paris in bed is about as coordinated as Paris on the dancefloor.