Louis CK

Not your typical contender for the hefty mantel of Ginger Adonis, ribald comedian Louis CK is just so goddamn pants-wettingly funny that he get in on the strength of his barbed quips alone. Plus he brings a bit of kitchen sink realism to the manicured marble halls of this pagoda of ging worship, with his rotund waistline, receding hairline, and 'Christ I'm 42, divorced, and with two kids' frownline. Seriously, Louis CK is here to tell the other high kings of ging that in reality, for all your stunning firecrotch pulchritude, life stinks, and you're gonna get fat, bald and die alone - but he does it in such a hilarious way that he is always welcome to the party.

Right: Louis CK. (not pictured, hordes of people rolling about lolling)

Alastair Gray

I'm fully aware that GA is becoming a parade of red hot sporting supernovas, but I was watching the cricket today (yeah, really) and suddenly this magnificent, lumbering carrot-toped carthorse began lurching around the field with the elegance of an erratically steered oil tanker and I was struck dumb. In amidst the preening, bronzed hard bod goms of South Africa and England and their garishly skin-coloured supporters, a pristine unicorn of ging emerged to play the role of Twelfth Man (cricket's fancy name for a substitute), bumbled about the pitch and threw himself heartily into his task to much guffawing from the commentators, in a typical piece of anti-auburn prejudice. But not here; here he found a simpatico, and for his commendable efforts on the pitch, and receding roux pate, Alastair Gray has been elevated to the hallowed crease of Ginger Adonis.

Left: Alastair Gray, all 8 foot 6 of him.