If there is ever such a blasphemous country as one where I am considered a sex god, may Trump (as he likes to put it) "bomb the shit out of it." But role model? That, I am. When I was still masquerading as an educator, I sat down a couple of my better, smarter, 17yo male students for an inspiring life lesson.
ME: You a cherry boy? (This was still a popular term back then).
BOY: Yes.
ME: Why?
BOY: I don't have chance.
ME: You're tall, pretty handsome, you dress well. You're going to graduate next year. Do you know what you call a tall, handsome, well-dressed 18yo boy who graduates high school as a cherry boy?
BOY: Heh??
ME: A HOMO.
BOY: Naruhodo...
And I swear, those boys all reached the promised land before graduation. Sometimes they'd take pictures of the girl and come to my office to proudly show them to me, and sometimes, the girls would be so hot that for a second I'd feel this awful pang of jealousy and want to knock the boy out, but I always managed to settle for feeling grudgingly proud of them. If that's not a role model, I don't know what is.