Ok

By continuing your visit to this site, you accept the use of cookies. These ensure the smooth running of our services. Learn more.

  • Women of the Day 06/24/06

    Women are the wave of the future. Wonder Woman said that, so y'all fucking KNOW it to be true. So I spent some quality time yesterday, reliving my youthful innocence, perusing Season I of the TV series and I have to say, that Lynda Carter was fucking F.I.N.E. fine. Some other thoughts:

    - an entire island filled with exclusively women? fucking Expedia.ca never offers a package tour there and they really should

    - the lasso of Truth would really come in handy on the interpersonal relations front, would it not?

    - the simple beauty and timeless eloquence of the catfight will never go out of Vogue

    - camp kinda rocks

    - if'n I had me a womenfolks, I'd purchase her a Wonder Woman costume; just for those special romantic evenings when there's sweet fuck all on TV...I would wear the tiara, I'm just like that sometimes

    - the Nazis were bad mens

    - where can I get me an invisible plane and why doesn't anyone seem to notice hot snatch in a pretty costume floating seemingly in midair?

    - I quite enjoy when she spins around in slow motion and removes her workaday costume in favor of her action clothes

    What'd you expect? An in-depth analysis, perhaps? Sorry, I was kinda distracted by the costume.

     

    Happy Flying Saucer Day, y'all. Abductions and anal probes for everyone in your life what really needs them. That guy what cut you off in traffic. The neighbor who mows his lawn in the early a.m. The loud woman on her cellphone whilst the movie is beginning. You know who I'm talking about.

     

    Canada's Age of Consent WAS 14 (now 16)? Why didn't anyone think to mention this to me, the guy what lives mere blocks away from a high school? That's the kind of information that folks might actually find useful. Sigh. Again, really really REALLY need to get me some new friends.

    Yesterday, my boy Jay (him I'll keep) asked me to rank and/or rate the various K's (don't ask how it came up in conversation as I've NO idea my ownself; one minute we were discussing the mighty Ukraine's win at that soccer thing and the next...) our little softball squad has featured over the years. I'd never really given it much thought before, now I can't think of much else but.

    I'm kinda surprised that my 'rents haven't forwarded me news about the tattoo-related MRSA infections in the U.S. in 2004 and 2005. That's the kind of thing they like to do. Which is whyfore I sometimes tell folks that I'm an orphan.

     

    I wanted to reach you but I don't know where to begin.

     

    I can't believe that I failed to offer to get K(1) out of them wet things that night when we all got caught in the driving Rain and the hailstorm. No wonder then that I'm still a singleton. Sadly, even my hindsight is far from 20/20. However, Monday is another day of softball and another chance to make a complete chump of myself in her presence. Good Times.

     

    Deepest condolences to the family, friends and fans of (Saint of the Day:) Aaron Spelling on his recent passing. In this wasteland of reality shows, the quality programming he provided tout le monde is sorely missed.

    A hearty much obliged to homeowners insurance for stopping by (again, friends, acquaintances, complete fucking strangers; resources available) and leaving a stirring pep talk-type comment. Y'all are the real reason I do whatever it is that I pretend to do hereabouts and I think you know that.

     

    Does anybody else miss the days when criminals dressed with a little bit of style, flair, savoir faire and panache? Why do you think Armani did the costumes for The Untouchables? These days they all seem to be rocking the Salvation Army chic.

     

    The list:

     

    1) Jenna Jameson (what can I say? I Desperately need the traffic as yet another month draws to a close. I do think it's kinda neat how she's turned her phenomenal frame and abilities to her own advantage and become an authrix and an entrepreneur. a fine role model for all women, as it turns out. get them implants, girls. let your BF or that guy you just picked up in a bar film you smoking rope. hey, just trying to help, to provide career options and shit.)

     

    2) Gertrude Jekyll (British artist, landscape gardener and crafts artist. as someone who really needs to channel his inner Mr. Hyde much more often, I simply dug the name.)

     

    3) Amanda Johnson (5'10'' 34-24-35 British model who has worked for Nivea (oh, I'd give her a facial, all right) amongst many others. I'm trying to overcome my innate distrust for and dislike of the British and I simply love her smile, fucking sue me.)

     

    4) Chona Jason (former Playboy model turned B-movie star of such classics as Hard As Nails, SHIRA: The Vampire Samurai and Dragon Fury. lithe frame, exquisite countenance, perfect nipples and aureolae; how much?)

     

    5) Lauren Jackson (6'5'' Australian Center for the Seattle Storm of the WNBA whose birthdate falls one day and many years after mine own. former WNBA MVP and, if memory serves, rather than masters; she's posed Naked.)

     

    Off to watch yesterday's 90210 rerun and Season III episode of Entourage before contemplating Monday night's chance to burn some more bridges whilst square amidst them. Then, pie. Enjoy your Saturday and the NHL Entry Draft today,y'all. Barbecue something, perhaps. And watch for them pretty colored lights in the nighttime skies, because they'll be watching for YOU.

     

     

  • Women of the Day 06/23/06

    What say we dispense with the banter and get right to the Kung Fu Fighting?

    I Saw Her Again Last Night and you know that I shouldn't. And the other one the night before, as well as her briefly. Won't someone PLEASE stop the madness?

    Dating is only for women you'e already fucking.

    I'm trying to work it, but I don't really have it to, you know, work.

     

    A brief synopsis of the World Cup; all that hype and then the U.S. goes down in flames, with nary a whimper, much less a roar. I'm fairly certain there's a bigger picture in there somewhere, but I just plain don't have the energy to seek it out. My heart is, after all, Broken.

     

    Thanks to debit card for stopping by (tell all your friends, acquaintances and complete fucking strangers to do likewise; avail yourself of the resources herein) and leaving a moving and, dare I say it, tearjerking comment.

     

    I find it hard enough to live with myself, I couldn't live with pity, too.

     

    If reincarnation truly exists (I must've done something positively Hitlerian in a past life), I REALLY hope to return as hot snatch on the hoof. Fuck yeah, I'd be a lesbian, but that's not the point. Men would be so easy to scam out of cash moneys and various items of a material nature, simple creatures what we all kinda tend to be. Just think, I'd never have to work again. AND I'd be a lesbian. Good Times.

    This theme has been popping up rather often of late. Both on the 90210 reruns I love so and in Season I of The Dukes of Hazzard (I purchased yesterday along with Season I of Wonder Woman, both were $20 each; when I stopped in after my tat appointment to pick up the Madonna live CD/DVD). It's been Memory Lane time hereabouts of late. What can I say? I loved the General Lee and wanted to drive her (along with Daisy, naturellement) when I was a child and it was Only $20.

     

    Song of the Day: Panic! At the Disco- The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide is Press Coverage. I can totally see Pete Wentz' (they record for his label) influence on this one. I believe I've mentioned that I'm a total mark for a Cool title and/or Name.

    Birthday Wishes to (Genius of the Day:) Joss Whedon, creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel; and also to the lovely, talented and endearingly goofy Selma Blair as my own personal Monday tonight draws ever nearer.

     

    There's no one left to Hurt but me and it's Because of Me.

     

    On the doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past front: there is yet another K (oh, let's go with K(E) on this one) to speak of. Nope, I'll apparently NEVER fucking learn. This one's on the volleyball squad I play for. I'd never really noticed her (because she's yet another K and because she hasn't made it out to the games very often); merely thought decent player, cute; but no. Until last night when she let her long brown hair down after the game and I realized that she's kinda fine. Actually, to call a spade a spade; she's kinda DAMN! And I think Kim will back me up on this. Nope, don't know anything about her (I may have to pump my neighbor for info), but I likely should've accepted when she asked if anyone required transport homeward last night. Just to see what would happen. Yeah, like I need more reasons to dwell.

    It felt damn good to get to work out some anger issues spiking the ball last night. Even though I was a little over dressed for the surprisingly warm and sunny weather as I didn't want to get sand in and/or on my 3 hour old new tattoos. On the bull in a china shop tip: I managed to collide fairly heavily with Frasor, run into Kenrda 2X (one of which I'm fairly certain resulted in me kicking her in the stomach; yes I apologized repeatedly and profusely, as it was purely accidental) and accidentally punch an opponent in the groin on a play at the net when we both went up for the ball and I simply landed better than he did.

    A hearty much obliged to K for not driving by the high school girls' soccer practice a 2nd time last night after we'd dropped off 2 other members of the squad. Very perceptive of her, in fact. She seems to have begun to view me in a new light (sadly, not that way, but hopes remain high); either that or she can't find anybody else, which is the option I'm leaning towards. Y'all know how I am. Anyway, she asked if I might be able to look after her lizard or salamander or whatever it is next weekend whilst she's out of town. I said I'd be happy to do so (and I would, I'm like that; not overly responsible and more than a little goofy, but trustworthy and loyal when the chips are down) and ''you do know I'm only pretending to be your friend so I can get closer to your cuddly pet, don't you?''

    Wreck of the Day: tragedy was narrowly averted yesterday as my fair neighbor nearly found herself and her car sideswiped by a city bus. I genuinely don't want misfortune to befall others simply because they're unfortunate enough to know me.

    Actually, I think I may just have to query her as to what K(E)'s current status is. I do love me some Pain. Things with K(1) aren't completely lost (even though I revealed way too much by saying that I enjoy her company), but you can see it from here; and there's nothing going on at the rotary club, so Why Not? And K(E) is that fine.

    Because my little thoughts kinda tend to be all over the place: I see that Pluto's newly found moons have been named Nix and Hydra. It's quite Lucky for everyone that the names chosen don't begin with yet another K, as all Hell might've Broken loose.

     

    My latest ink appointment went well. Although, yes, playing volleyball after having spent an hour and a half getting your arms drilled with needles can prove a smidge uncomfortable. A hearty much obliged to Shauna for touching up my Faith; it being faded was the primary reason I rarely display my tats. Alls I got was 3 more stars on the outside of my right arm, but they look Cool and they symbolize shiny. I've decided that my next one (not sure when, but soon) will be a question mark on my left arm. Because I like to question shit and...

    I am a question to the world, not an answer to be heard.

     

    It's good to see that Kansas City Royals starting pitcher Zach Greinke has returned from his personal issues. And that the squad has acquired the fleet (and personal favorite) Joey Gathright as well. Sure, the Royals will likely lose around 100 games this year, but perhaps they're building a foundation. Perhaps not, but I always root root root for the underdogs.

     

    The list:

     

    1) Scarlett Johansson (because I've finally learned how to spell her name confidently and accurately. because of how she rocked the outfits in The Island; and I still love that story of how she nearly crashed her car when she saw an anatomically impossible portrayal of herself of a billboard for said film on Sunset Boulevard. because of the upskirt in The Perfect Score. simply because she's totally uber, part of the master race which the rest of us can only aspire to someday sniff the hammer of the guy that's nailing her. so to speak.)

     

    2) Kristen Johnston (tall, attractive, shapely and funny. even if I never watched 3rd Rock From the Sun, people talk and I listen. I enjoyed her in whichever Austin Powers flick she was in, though.)

     

    3) Jenna Joy (and comfort to all. 32A-24-34 Laotian centerfold from good ol' Bangkok. love the tats and the piercings.)

     

    4) Joan of Arc (whether she be portrayed by Jane Wiedlin, Milla Jovovich or whomever; fuck yeah, I'd do her. I'm tired of stability and normalcy, I want someone more like Joan, someone more like me; who hears voices and shit. even if I never act on them and pretty much do whatever it is that I do in the interests of traffic and providing amusing tales for others to share.)

     

    5) Sophia Jex-Blake (English physician, active in opening the medical profession to women in England, carrying her own battle for a medical degree all the way to Parliament.)

     

    Enjoy your Friday, y'all. I'm off to peruse cancelled TV shows and eat either an entire carrot cake or an apple pie, I haven't decided which just yet. And then Sleepytime. Be good and be safe.

  • Psych 101 rears its ugly head

    Yes, that's right, kiddies; it's dream interpretation time again. But first, a word from my spiritual/mystical side:

    As those (or is it both? whatever) of y'all what've been around since 21 Jump Street realize, I began this little atrocity as the result of 3 seemingly unrelated events.

    1) my bigscreen TV went into the shop, never to be seen again

    b) the guy in front of me in line at the ATM left his Master Card in the machine and I foolishly returned it to him

    3) I updated a dating site profile and met the MILF from Texas that I'd later foolishly (and, in my defence, rather drunkenly) marry in Las Vegas

    Well, the first is a lost cause (I am, after all, the patron saint of such things) and on the 3rd we're going with what happens in Vegas stays there. However, the 2nd event occurred again this morning. Karma just continues to insist on fucking with and/or testing your humble scribe. Sigh. If Only it were Karma Rosenberg. Anyhoo, the elderly gent in line ahead of me at the ATM at my local Safeway this morning concluded his transacting and exited. I then proceeded to step up to the plate and initiate the little game of Russian Roulette that I like to refer to as checking my balance on payday to see how many hours of overtime The Man has robbed me of. Today's total was Closer to actual and factual, but still lacking. But I digress. Again.

    Said old dude returns shortly after I'd begun mine own transacting and politely inquires as to whether or not he's forgotten his wallet. Turns out he has, indeed. I fold it up and hand it to him, cursing Karma and her crafty ways silently to myself all the while. I passed her little test. Not because of any inherent goodness on my part but simply because I didn't have my glasses on and was, yet again, completely ignorant of my surroundings. Yay, me!

    And then I heard Kelly Clarkson's A Moment Like This on the Muzak in the store. I'm choosing to take these 2 little episodes as portents of things to come. I'm likely misinterpreting them as being favorable ones, but that's simply how I roll. More on this later.

     

    And now, back to our regularly scheduled program...

    As a result of my previously mentioned weaknesses and failings of one sort or another last eve, my accursed subconscious was in fine fettle when I finally lay me down to Sleepytime late last night. Nope, I'll likely never become reaccustomed to those times when I'm diurnal as opposed to my usual nocturnal ways and means.

    In no particular order, with some sort of weakass interpretation of each following:

    - on the good news, bad news front, I envisioned a shiny new IMAX theatre being added in and to my building; where the trouble came into Paradise was that my apartment was going to be demolished to make room for it

    This one's relatively easy. My boy Jay's been house hunting this past week as his current residence is being sold and he finds himself forced to vacate the premises. I'm planning on catching Superman Returns in IMAX next Wednesday whence it opens. I may not have an automobile yet, but I own my abode, so my ducks are pretty much all in a row. Pretty maids, too.

    - there was a return appearance of the same exotic-looking woman that I dreamed of (and woke up with a throbbing erection from said dream) yesterday afternoon; sadly, it wasn't The Good Kind but at least she didn't tell me she hates me

    Her I have seen before. She works evenings at the store and sometimes her shift ends just as mine begins. Nope, never spoken to her, don't know her name; but LOVE that tight little frame.

    - a fiercely competitive coed shirts vs. skins debating match, folks of both sexes on each side, which I broke the ice in by being the first to remove his shirt

    This one falls under the category of ????????. I believe I've mentioned that I'm somewhat eccentric.

    - for some reason I found myself banned from playing volleyball (bad) and labelled not merely a troublemaker but a PLAGUE (Cool)

    The usual disagreements with authority, I suspect.

     

    I don't normally believe in signs, but today...there's not much going on, so I believe I shall. Sometime this eveningish. Off to listen to the tail end of the U.S./Ghana upset in the making whilst reloading my beloved MP3 player. Take care, y'all.