Warning: The bold claim I will proceed to make has absolutely no scientific merit. It is purely based on two things: 1) My personal observation of the male species, which is admittedly, limited; and 2) my childhood obsession with The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TMNT), which is admittedly, less limited.

All men fall in one of the four Ninja Turtle personality types, or are some amalgamation thereof.

First, you have Leonardo, the blue one. If he were in college, he'd be in a frat, or the head of the student government, or maybe both. He's the guy that was the former high school quarterback and the future I-banker on Wall Street. This alpha male is bossy and ambitious, but also charismatic. More than anything he's a leader, and, unless you like being led, he's a complete pain in the ass.

Then you have purple clad Donatello. He's smart and meticulous. He probably wears khakis and button down shirts. He's good at math and owns a calculator that can do cooler things than your laptop. He subscribes to Scientific America and TiVos the Discovery Channel. He's good at trivia, even better at Scrabble and prefers wine over beer. If your cup of tea is discussing Nietzsche — over tea — then this one's for you.

And then there's Michelangelo (or the "orange" one). He's the life of the party, and arrives to them with a pizza in one hand and a six-pack in the other. He spends his days outside in the sun, wakeboarding or hiking, and his nights in the darkness of bars, playing beer pong or dominating at darts. People are drawn to his energy and free spirit, and on MySpace he has more friends than Jenna Jameson. He's friendly with all, exclusive to none and if you want his attention, don't expect it to be undivided.

And then there's Raphael, the red turtle. He's an artist or a musician. He's sensitive but callous, self-deprecating, but self-promoting. He doesn't talk much, but when he does it's smart and poetic — if only he did it more. At first you think he's just shy, then you think he's troubled, then you just think he's a jerk. Because in his silence is a form of narcissism that isn't apparent by what he says, but instead by what he chooses to omit.

And men, this isn't to say you have to fit in one of these definite categories. I've met many a Raphangelo before (you know, a musician that also likes hiking, partying and pizza), or a Leotello (a football player with a passion for trivia. It could happen.)

But, of all the turtle-clan, moody Raphael is my favorite. Always has been, even when I was eight and had a vivid dream all the turtles were in love with me (true story) — which probably explains my chronic singleness and overall relationship woes, the very ones that cause me to write a column comparing men to hybrid mutant sewer inhabitants.

[Reach reporter Erin Hicks at features@thedaily.washington.edu.]