Pepe le Pew
Oh boy did I love his skunky romancing. The small dark and handsome Gallic Romeo flirted with me through the screen back in my teenage years when I sat in front of the TV all day in my pj's eating my way through a family bag of cheesie wotsits. I bet they'd ban him now. OK, he didn't believe in a woman's right to say no, and his hands were all over every honey within reach and let's face it, if Rohypnol had been out then, he would have smeared it in Brie and cunningly dispensed it along with the bouquet of flower and boxes of chocolates.
Looking at him now he's a thinner, hairier Berlusconi.
Here's my love token to all of you, a rock hard, stony Priapus, courtesy of the Queen's sculptor, the sublime Scot, Alexander Stoddart and let's not forget our very own Cupid, the Gaelic god Angus Og.