Hot and Not Bothered
July 1, 2009 at 9:49 pm | In Culture, Cute Guys, Exercise, Gay, Work | Leave a CommentTags: Billy Mays, Independence Day, Northern Territory, Northern Territory Day, Pitchmen
Well, just a quick note. Today was our Organization Day (a.k.a. Office Picnic). We worked until 11:00 or so, and then went over to Burba Lake on Fort Meade. There was volleyball and a tug-of-war and food and a dunk tank into which our leadership, from the Commanding General on down, were placed. I enjoyed myself quite a bit; it wasn’t too warm or uncomfortable, and everyone was really nice.
I took some pictures with my trusty little camera; since they were for me I indulged myself and only took a few of my coworkers and the rest of two guys I find rather attractive. First, there’s Chad H., of whom I’ve spoken before; he looks so jock-ish out of uniform (although is very smooth legs are strange – I guess it’s because he swims, our little Iron Man). Second is Patrick S.; he’s a sergeant, the Chaplain’s assistant, who is (a) sexy (b) good looking (there’s a big difference – sexy is how you act) and (c) gracious. He found God after being a tough guard and ‘counsellor’ at a juvenile detention center. He’s wise and kind and funny and compassionate. And would you believe it he’s got a kid who’s entered in the Army. Tomorrow I may post a scanned picture of him in a kilt. Click on the gallery below to enlarge the shots and you can also see the full set in Flickr.
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- Chad
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- Patrick S
I hope you like them! The main thing I thought, after taking the pictures, was that there is a huge gulf between me, slow, plodding, prone to sweating sitting still, in some degree of pain with every step, and these active agile graceful happy playing specimens. The bridging of which I would love to achieve, but sometimes/most of the time despair of. 
I am glad to be their friend though.
Like yesterday at the gym, my feet started to feel so heavy so early. Imagine going from that, from plantar fasciitis and arthrits into a volleyball playing stud. Hah. Fat chance. My kinda odds.
I spent most of today thinking it was Thursday. How about you – are you ready for the holiday? I hate hearing it called “the Fourth of July” – that’s just the date. It is Independence Day. (Just like today, 1 July, is Northern Territory Day, commemorating the day the Northern Territory, from which my beloved comes, was granted self-government instead of being governed directly by Canberra.)
We’ll be back to eye candy tomorrow. It’s funny how “hot guys” don’t give me this reaction except when they’re live in front of me. I think it’s more a wish that their marvellous would bend down from their great heights and touch me. Yet that’s a fantasy, and what I have with my husband is better than any fantasy I ever had about my life. He makes everything better; I came home a bit gloomy but he cleared that up in about five seconds, one hug and one kiss. 
I’m all better, thanks to him!
Rest in Peace, Billy Mays
Got home and watched a bit of a marathon of Pitchmen on Discovery. I’d never really sat and watched it before, but it was being run in memory of Billy Mays. He really seems to have been humble, funny, creative and generous and I thought – wow, with all the fuss about MJ poor Billy, who we saw more of in the last few years, is nearly forgotten. And to me, and sorry if I offend you, MJ was at the end of his career – I couldn’t see him surviving the fifty concerts he’d planned, to me, Billy Mays had still years to go doing what he did. And really, there’s nothing dishonourable about being a salesman, despite how so many people sneer at the vocation (see the movie “Barcelona” for more polished reflections on this idea). And OxiClean really does work. In the immortal words of Theresa Giudice, it helps you be more cleansy, with your cleansiness.
Day One and a Half of Discipline
June 30, 2009 at 3:01 pm | In Cute Guys, Exercise, Work, health | Leave a CommentTags: Army, Bear Grylls Nude, Nick Beyeler, Soldiers, walking, Weight Watchers, WW
Yesterday I was a little under, today I’m fighting the urge to go get some chocolate from the vending machine. Ohh sweet forgiving yielding loving chocolate. But I intend to hold out at least until the weekend so I’m saving points for the long stretch.
Yes! Our work week is shaping up thusly: tomorrow is our “Organization Day” – office picnic. I will bring my camera and get lots of snaps of hunky servicemen doing various kinds of sports, if you’d like. (And why wouldn’t you?)
Friday is a “DONSA” (Day Of No Scheduled Activity, used to be called a ‘training holiday’) so the Soldiers are all gone and we’ll probably be let out early (I’m coming in late from having a follow up blood letting in the morning) and Friday’s Independence Day (Observed). So things are starting to wind down…right this moment.
What’s strange is that about now I sit and revel in the slowing down but about 30 minutes from now, which will be about 30 minutes before I’m due to leave, I’ll start to panic about all the things I’ve not done. Gasp! I must make lists! I must do this! I must do that!
But I’m working up the “oomph” to go work out (yesterday’s work out was dismal – I forgot my headphones so no Real Housewives or Bear Grylls (nude or otherwise) or even edifying Fitness Rocks podcast. And there was no eye candy – not a bit. (Oh, how I wish I found black guys sexy – I was the only white male there.) I only managed to knock out thirty minutes. Came home and watched TV and ate C’s delicious salad – with tuna and avocado. Mmmm good.
Tonight after the gym I have to get gasoline/petrol or I won’t make it home. I hate when this happens, as much as I hate coming home from work and gym, only to find I have to go back out again for this or that errand. Well, hate’s a strong word. Dislike.
Breathless Shirtlessness
We’re still waiting breathlessly for the next installment of Handsome Hunks of Home Improvement, so we’ll take a few more looks at Nick Beyeler, who probably (a) isn’t scoping out male eye candy (b) does a lot more than thirty minutes of cardio and (c) can’t help but look sexy at the gym. All in utter contrast to me.
(Sometimes, one is just speechless.)
Not Ideal
June 29, 2009 at 10:34 am | In Cute Guys, Exercise, Fun and Relaxation, health | 4 CommentsTags: Anthropologie, Monty Hall, Nick Beyeler, Weight Watchers, Whole Foods
Not ideal has been my performance at weight loss. In fact, I gained. Four pounds.
I know why. I didn’t track my points on WW, and I didn’t work out much. I also ate quite a bit. I also snacked quite a bit. No one snack or meal was over the top, but a string of not very good, too big, or just fatty meals makes a difference.
So no blaming it on anyone but myself. This must be reversed. I had two weeks of effortless loss and now this. Not ideal at all.
No excuses. Well, a partial one. The gym is not air conditioned and it’s been very muggy and hot; sometimes worse inside than outside. I need, however, I guess, to suck it up and all. I’ve never been good at that kind of sucking up; nor at sucking up to bosses, come to think of it. Oh, dear. But! Mustn’t defeat myself before the struggle, eh?
Meanwhile I think I’ll make the WW page my home page at work and home. That ought to help.
In other news
I joined stickam, but so far don’t see the attraction of twinks spouting drivel. Maybe it’ll be like Twitter; I didn’t get it at first, then I did, a bit, but don’t see why some people are crazy in love with it. It was the same with Facebook as well.
In yet other news
Have you ever seen the Monty Hall problem? I still can’t quite wrap my head around it. My brother showed it to me last night at a family dinner for my SIL’s birthday (we brought a lovely fruit tart from Whole Foods (more on Whole Foods later) and got her a gift certificate from Anthropolgie, a store she seems to like). Here it is, from the Wikipedia article I referenced:
Suppose you’re on a game show and you’re given the choice of three doors. Behind one door is a car; behind the others, goats. The car and the goats were placed randomly behind the doors before the show. The rules of the game show are as follows: After you have chosen a door, the door remains closed for the time being. The game show host, Monty Hall, who knows what is behind the doors, now has to open one of the two remaining doors, and the door he opens must have a goat behind it. If both remaining doors have goats behind them, he chooses one randomly. After Monty Hall opens a door with a goat, he will ask you to decide whether you want to stay with your first choice or to switch to the last remaining door. Imagine that you chose Door 1 and the host opens Door 3, which has a goat. He then asks you “Do you want to switch to Door Number 2?” Is it to your advantage to change your choice?
Apparently, it is. Here’s a demonstration of this totally counterintuitive problem from the New York Times. It’s counterintuitive because you are faced with two doors, behind which one is a fancy car, and behind the other is a goat. Surely the odds of picking the goat are 1/3 when you’re faced with the first choice between the three doors, and 1/2 or fifty-fifty when you’re faced with the second choice of two doors. But they’re not. Here’s a video of it too:
It does my head in.
Let’s free our minds
And the rest will follow, by considering our original, exercise-inspirational obsession, Mr. Nick Beyeler, here showing us his Thai style wrapping and how lucky a tree can be:
(Watch out for splinters, Nick!)
Well, Here I Am Again
June 28, 2009 at 9:04 pm | In Culture, Cute Guys, Gay | 1 CommentTags: 4 Months 3 Weeks 2 Days, Beaten, Carter Oosterhouse, Gilmar Rodrigues, King's Club, Michael Jackson
Yes, here I am again, not having blogged in a while. Well well, and during that time Iran’s been exploding, Michael Jackson, Farah Fawcett, and Billy Mays have died, and the world has gone on. What have you been up to.
Em Jay
I was a bit more upset at the news of Michael Jackson’s death than I thought I would be, but I think all mourning especially of that sort is somewhat narcissistic. It’s not about him, as much as my memories that are connected to various songs and videos he made. I used to ‘hang out’ at a place called the King’s Club in Stuttgart (Germany)
and they’d play “Beat It” and “Billy Jean” all the time. They’d also play “It’s Raining Men” for obvious reasons. We’d go, my friends Cathy and Joanny and I, to the club nearly every weekend. I’d normally park my big old Volvo wagon wherever I could find a place in downtown Stuttgart, and turn up at the club around, oh, say nine or ten. By eleven, the place would be full. The Americans (mostly servicemen and -women) would normally sit way in the back, but there’d be a crowd of them most weekends. For some reason, when the Stuttgart Military Women’s Softball Team was playing at posts away from town, there were a lot fewer women, and even a few less American guys as well.
There was a dance floor and a disco ball and a DJ who sometimes, if you bought him a drink, play a request. Everything was covered in red as you can see in the thumbnails, and it was run by a red-head Volksdeutsche from Romania by the name of Laura Halding-Hoppert. (Click on a thumbnail below; on the second picture, the seats at the rear to the left are where my friends and I would normally sit, so we could keep an eye on the dance floor and the Wild West where the service men would hang out.)
We’d normally dance very European style, in groups, but every now and then I’d ’snag’ some hot Soldier to dance with. Even then I was appearance obsessed; I’d make darn sure that all my friends could see me with him, and many times I’d be more interested in their reaction than in the guy’s! But honestly there was little better than hanging on to the back of a sweaty stranger, with one of his legs between mine, bumping and grinding to “Le Freak” (c’est Chic), feeling at once sexy and protected (I was only 18, most of these gents were in their twenties and hence older and wiser and stronger than me) and special. Anyone interested in any of my other reminiscences or am I just coming across as an old geezer with nothing to look forward to, clinging on to his memories of past glories to make up for his current life? I don’t think I’m quite that, or if I am, then I don’t see what’s under my nose. I never went to those places to have fun without the ultimate goal in mind of having somebody to love and who’d love me. Which I have. Yes, I was more wild then but less content.
I’m trying to age gracefully. Or at least without thinking about it too much.
Movies You Should Watch
Well, the first one is called “Beaten.”
No, it’s not the story of an egg. It’s about a married with child couple who are living with domestic violence. The victim is not who you’d think it would be. It’s good because it stars the gorgeous Geordie himself, Robson Green, and because it manages to have three intertwined stories develop, come to a crisis, and get all packaged up within 58 minutes. So you have the rest of the evening free to think how you’d treat Mr. Green.
Those with good memories will remember Mr. Green from “Touching Evil” or “The Grifters” on PBS or BBC America.
The second one is much longer and more harrowing. It’s called “4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days” and it’s about a woman trying to help her friend arrange an abortion in Ceausecu’s Romania. No light entertainment in this film, no staring at handsome male leads, at all. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the advice not to drop the fetus into the sink “either whole or in pieces” or a bin near the hotel where the act was done, but to take it to the top of a ten-story apartment building and drop it into the garbage chute. Or that the abortionist took his payment in the form of intercourse with both the friend, and the woman on who he was about to perform the abortion.
That sort of thing makes for an emotionally exhausting film but the whole thing is so fantastically acted and filmed that you don’t mind for yourself, but you do mind for what the characters are going through. There are some strengths in people (this is apparently a true story) that may be better undiscovered.
Back to Our Theme, Already in Progress
Yes, the Handsome Hunks of Home Improvement continue and our newest HHofHI is the dark hammer swinger himself, Carter Oosterhouse. Honestly, do I need to say any more?
(Just click on the smaller thumbnails to see his nearly always ‘on’ smile or his skill at handling his tool.)
Speaking of Handy Men
Well, he did first appear as a handy man, our mini-obsession with Gilmar Rodrigues continues as well. Here is a few pictures of him apparently unable to arrange his boxer shorts – perhaps the elastic’s gone?
(Looks like he needs a tug – why not give him a helping hand?)
How’d That Come About
June 22, 2009 at 11:08 am | In Cute Guys, Exercise, health | 2 CommentsTags: Nick Beyeler, Weight Watchers
How on earth did it come about that I lost 2.2 pounds? I was very surprised this morning but I do have a new swing in my WW step and have been faithfully entering my points so far. Not that it’s any later than 11:20 Monday morning but we shall see. Actually that’s very ambiguous; we will indeed see me entering this entire week. There. I’ve said it!
Meanwhile au debut of a new week, I’m moderately optimistic that it’ll be good. How about you? But for now I’ve got to get motivated to work. I am going to try to blog more in future than I’ve been doing.
Speaking of motivation, although our eye candy this week is indeed the Handsome Hunks of Home Improvement, we mustn’t forget about our athletic motivation, Mr. Nick Beyeler. Here he is proving that he could easily run rings, squares and diamond patterns around me. If I had a body that good I might never wear clothes.
(Don’t just blurt it out, Nick, raise your hand if you want to say something!)
Too Short Again, Naturally
June 21, 2009 at 9:47 pm | In Apple, Computers, Culture, Cute Guys, Exercise, Friends, Hardware, Work, health | Leave a CommentOnce again, the weekend is over and once again it seems to be over before it really started. This was quite an odd week – it started off so with the best of news and ended with a bang and a boom.
I can’t go too deply into the best of news, but it was good and for the first time in quite a while I heard a dear person giggle again.
After guzzling the past week, I only gained 0.4 of a pound. God help me this week. My WW records contains nothing but breakfasts. I need help to keep counting every day this week. I get so … lazy? I mean, I even have a great web application on my iPhone so what’s my excuse?
Exercise wasn’t so hot either. Or it was because the gym was like a steam bath, but I wasn’t there every evening. What I’d like to know is why, after I decide not to go, do I always wish I were going? Friday evening I didn’t go, and as I drove off Fort Meade I drove past the gym and really wished I could go in and work out.
The Bang
Friday was a social whirl (comparatively speaking). We had a hail and farewell at work. I was at the back and didn’t want to use my camera’s flash, so the pictures of my office’s actual welcome didn’t “come out,” but I did manage to get this shot of one of our more handsome Soldiers, and the welcoming of another. The handsome Soldier is actually a really nice guy. He always chats to me and at least pretends to be interested in what I have to say, and as he wants to be a history teacher when he gets out, he’s interesting to listen to.
The Boom
After that we went over the Bay Bridge to our friends on Kent Island. There was quite a bit of drama and the first half of the evening was very unpleasant indeed. I’m sure that things have blown over by now, but we will suffice it to say that I’m very disappointed in my Godson, even if he’s apologized to his parents (but not to me for delaying my meal). I feel bad because I’m sort of responsible for his moral upbringing but I’m also certain I am totally not up to the challenge of directing him any better than his parents and teachers. His world view continues to be nihilistic, he seems to be indifferent, nearly aggressively so, to any consequence or his future, and like everybody of his age he knows everything. I wouldn’t mind; it’s typical but (a) some of his behaviour is self-destructive and (b) when it gets out of hand it’s very selfish and self-centered. I don’t like it at all. I don’t like it when he hurts my friends; if he weren’t their son I’d have nothing to do with him at all.
We did discuss that he does question authority whereas when I was his age, I didn’t. I did what I was told maybe too much, but I did. I was told to read pages 50-150 in the text book, and I did. I was told to study and take the test, and I did. I do admire people with drive and the ability to take risks, but sometimes they wind up poor. I wasn’t as much afraid of poverty as of (having to do) manual labour; I knew I couldn’t possibly handle it – I wasn’t physically strong enough and didn’t like the idea of being outside in all weathers. I knew I couldn’t hack it but that I could as an ‘office worker.’ Now I wish I’d pursued my real dreams rather than building the career I have; but I try not to think too much about that. My job is not something I enjoy. It pays the bills. that’s all. I try also not to think too much about how sometimes I feel like the doors on my ability to change anything are closing or have closed. Do you think that the doors are real or that we make them for ourselves in our minds. I used to think I’d like to go to law school but that never worked out. I wish I could make a living with what is my natural talent and fervent interest.
Maybe I really ought to contact that career counsellor my personal trainer recommended.
Maybe I ought to stop thinking about what might have been if. If I’d stayed in and grown up in England. If I’d been able to major in what I wanted to instead of business. The only thing I keep thinking is that I don’t know if I’d have met C if I were different. And that’s what keeps me happy with my memories and not too inclined to question my decision. Because and I’m not trying to be rude, nobody’s got as good a partner/husband/lover as I do. Nobody.
Saturday was very productive. I mailed off a ‘care package’ of a comic book and some Reeses peanut butter cups to a friend in South Africa. We also pulled our credit cards out of our safe deposit box so we could use them. See, because of the financial crisis, banks and creditors are trying to reduce the amount of credit they’ve extended so they’re going around and cancelling and closing credit card accounts that haven’t been used recently. We’ve had a couple now close; sometimes without any notice. This wouldn’t seem bad, until you remember that your credit score, and therefore the interest you pay on any loan, is based in part on your debt to credit ratio. If your credit is lowered because you’ve not used a card and the issuing bank closes, your ratio gets worse (despite no particular change in your spending or paying off habits) and you pay more. It may not be fair but there it is. So we hauled them out and used them for lunch and the aforementioned extortionate shipping fees.
(We went to lunch at Noodles Corner in Columbia which I found delicious. It was odd though; I ordered what looked good to me and C ordered what looked good to him and when our dishes arrived, I didn’t like mine and he didn’t like his but we swapped them and each enjoyed the other’s.)
We also checked out the new Apple lap tops in the Apple Store in Columbia at the mall. I don’t really think I need a new one but I can see where C does, so we may ‘move’ on one sometime this year, probably after Snow Leopard comes out. Also looked at the new iPhone 3GS which looks cool but which I can live without for a while until AT&T improves the offer it has for upgrading. I cannot see spending a grand on getting a bit faster processor and a movie camera.
Finally we “swung by” (drove quite a way) to the Whole Foods market in Silver Spring, and got some semi-yummy King’s Island blue cheese (from Australia) and some really yummy Vermont cheddar. One of the benefits of having knee arthritis is that I can park in “gimpy” parking places which is good there because the parking lot on weekends is always jammed full to distraction. I am glad to report they’ve widened the aisles and it wasn’t quite the maddening mob inside that it was in the parking lot. I may have to start going more often for bits and pieces. I don’t see shopping only there, but they do have some nice treats and things.
Neither a Bang or A Boom
Today all I did was sit around and then I watched a really good movie you should watch. It’s called No Regret and it’s from Korea and it’s about a horribly tortured love story in Seoul between a poor orphan turned rent-boy and a shy rich guy being pressured into marriage by a ruthless family. But this description doesn’t do it justice so go check it out. C cooked a delicious steak dinner. Yum!
Bang a BoomerBoomerang
Yes, we’re back to our theme, after the drama. The answer to the cliff hanger question you never even tried to answer is Jason Cameron, from While You Were Out, Building the Man Cave and Desperate Landscapes. He’s hunky, he’s built, he’s much better looking in motion than in a picture, for some reason. Here he is in various guises including showing you a set of abs you could replace your clothes washer with…click on the tiny pics to see him bulge and grow before your very eyes….
And because this is indeed a multi-media weblog, here’s a few videos of Jason, pulling on his wood pole…
…getting a shirtless scrub-down at a soapy carwash…
…and working on the blog cabin and its man cave….
(Who’d like to see him in his very own mancave?)
Vote for a Well-Deserving Gentleman
June 17, 2009 at 11:59 am | In Cute Guys | Leave a CommentHey everyone! Remember Matus Valent, the gorgeous sporty model from Slovakia? Well, he and I are “Facebook friends” and he’s actually not just rather really hot but a great guy – a real gentleman.
Now, his industry is very competitive and he’s trying to get a gig as a “pocket rocket” lip gloss male model. It’d be one more thing to help him on his way. Urban Decay who makes this lipgloss is running a contest to see who should be on their tubes and Matus has entered and needs your vote.
Please click on his silvery self below, and vote for him from all the computers you access. And you too can have a bit of Matus on your lips.
(Which bit do you want on your lips?)
Real Housewives of New Jersey Real Recap
June 17, 2009 at 10:46 am | In Culture | Leave a CommentSo last night I was sitting at the living room table, $100 whore frozen pizza (cheap but delicious) on a plate in front of me, Diet Dr Pepper (elixir of the Texan Gods) and watching the season finale of the Real Housewives of New Jersey on Bravo. Now, the Real Housewives franchise has progressed from Orange County, which started off as more about chummy friends but ended up naked wasted and in court, to Atlanta, where the most courageous fake cancer survivor held forth, to New York where bug-eyed Ramona hissed while Kelly proved she was so ‘up here’ as to be affected by altitude sickness, to New Jersey. Ah, New Jersey girls. A chance to disprove the “fuhgeddaboudit” stereotypes and prove that they could be dignified, charming, socially conscious, while also being fabulous and rich. Surely the man-loving Andy Cohen, creator or producer or gadlfy of the series, would turn from peddling unpleasantness and strife to a more uplifting, more refined ambiance.
Is that what you were hoping for?
Too bad.
Oh, dear. Where to begin! This will only make sense if you follow the show. If you don’t you can still look at the pretty-boy pictures.
Okay, what happened to the stuffed toys? I’m hoping they went to a hospital.
I thought Danielle handled telling her children about “the book” pretty well. I felt terribly sorry for them learning about it in that context though, with a film crew around them.
Teresa’s house is so far over the top that it gets nosebleed. I hope somebody finds something soft and sound absorbing somewhere in those stone caverns. It still doesn’t look like a home but a theater set for a bad play entitled “Ostentation and its Discomforts.” Remember how she dropped $120,000 in cash for furnishing for this “French Chateau Look” pile? (French Chateau Look? The ghost of Marie Antoinette looked away in horror.)
How far did she and Dina-saurus Rex have to walk to have their glass of wine? The house seemed so far away (yet so large and boxy and graceless) after their hike. I understand the difference in scale between my suburban bungalow and her gigantobox, but still. And D. Rex really should have shut up about the smell in the wine cellar; Joe has to have someplace to stuff the decomposing bodies of his contract victims, right?
I can’t believe that on national TV D. Rex has to tell the world that her daughter’s growing “tits.” How ladylike. I thought the child might be embarrassed but no, she decided to talk about her bubbies to the camera. Are all women this obsessed with their mammaries? Is it straight mens’ fault?
I thought that the car for Ashley was handled 100% well, and that Jacqueline was never as happy as when her parents came by.
Caroline Camorra Manzo gets an attack dog from disgraced ex-con Bernie Madoff, er, Kerrick. Some company she keeps, but a friendship with an ex-law-man, while not as useful as a judge in your purse, can at least make the rest of the country wonder if all those rumors are true, and whether the bullet-ridden Lincoln whose trunk you father was found stuffed in, four nice little holes as a decorative addition, really matters all that much. Maybe they are ‘legit.’
And now to “the dinner.” Which as has been pointed out was a Bravo requirement. I mean when D. Rex whined “why do we have to have that woman there” the obvious answer was “because your employer wants her there, that’s why.”
And Danielle brings “the book” to “the dinner.” Or is handed it. Either way, after appetizers but before dinner, it comes out and is laid very significantly and dramatically on the table, pointing like a hard-back dagger right at D. Rex. Ah, the histrionics of it all.
(I guess you want your family blow-ups on a lightly-filled stomach, after the hostess and her sisters(-in and -outlaws) make jokes about fellatio in the hearing of your children; of course, cause it’s classier to make d*ck-s*cking references before everyone’s full with three courses of pseudo-Italian cooking. Less vomit but no dry heaves, you see.)
And the fireworks are off! D. Rex scuttles about from pillar to post, perching on Teresa’s chair awkwardly, jumping up and threatening to leave (pushed back by Andy Cohen who’s determined to let the show go on until he can get into Albie or Christopher’s pants), back to her own chair, jumping up and down and trying to get a word in edgewise.
Caroline, manipulatrix supreme, appoints herself traffic cop, while building up to do a great imitation of every gunfighter’s moll in the annals of 1940’s film noir.
Danielle gets angrier and angrier while the men wish they were someplace else, someplace simpler, a comradely drive-
Christopher Manzo
by perhaps, or a fraternal session bribing public officials, anywhere but here in the Harridans’ and Harpies’ Circus. The kids are dragged out, but not all, to protect their innocence from their parents’ bad behaviour. Did anyone notice how Christopher Manzo, the ‘other brother’ made himself useful by entertaining the children and sitting with them. A nice guy, pretty good looking, who is funny, duitiful and good with kids. He’ll be swimming in women (much to Andy’s annoyance – he wants to laugh! play free with this or any Sicilian studkin! and forget that he’s knee-deep in females).
Caroline drops the bombshell that it was her (gasp) who dragged “the book” to the court of public opinion called the Chateau of Hair Art and Semi-private Confessions. Confronted with this lie-by-ommission, Danielle does the obvious thing and continues to attack D. Rex, probably based on the “we’re all thieves, er, as thick as thieves,” line meaning that Caroline’s ego and control mania is so great she’s confessing to everything because it all has to be about her and her giant but real monoboob bouncing around in that shapeless “elephant” gray top (I’m not kidding she calls it that on her bravo blog).
The “ladies” all start shrieking complicated plot twists and turns all at once in their strange twisted accents, D. Rex now running around like a chicken cut her head off, Caroline wagging her finger at 500 megaHertz, and Danielle’s eyebrows trying to raise in disdain (they’re already high enough to keep the mirrors on her bedroom ceiling clean of whatever may get squirted up there). When! Suddenly! Jaqueline grows a backbone and calls her sisters liars because D. Rex’s little tiny forearms did peck out the book on the internet, while Caroline did indeed rush it over to Gossip’s Central Office, Le Chateau des Cheveux and Reputation Killing, forcing it under the nose of unsuspecting patrons.
Albie the Perfect Manzo
That causes great consternation with I Manzi, leading to D. Rex insincerely, sneeringly offering to pray for Danielle (such a nice Catholic dinasaurus, although she’ll probably burn Danielle’s house down with Mass candles) and Jaqueline and Caroline laying into one another, between Caroline reeling in shock that Jacqueline actually dared stand up to her. The world really did stand on its head and the fabric of reality really was torn apart. What a story for under the hair dryers on Monday!!!
Teresa, having perfected her technique on swallowing with the oysters, and anxious for the party to be over so she can get back to what she does best (having Joe the Stone Man jump her bones, driving Andy to jealous tears of rage) and wondering why some women want ‘preplay’ (why eat a slider when you can chow down on the whole damned side of beef) jumps into the fray by opining that ‘where there’s smoke, there’s surely a botched felony trial.’ Irritated by Teresa opening a second front in the war, Danielle snaps at her wondering if she ever got her head out of Joe’s lap … er … the raw bar tray long enough to listen to her “explanation” (long on denials, short on details).
Poor Teresa fumbles and fumes and finally works out that just like when she was three or four, somebody was being mean to her and reacts in character, shrieking obscenities and generally acting suddenly insane. Two big changes in personality in one meal – normally you have to go to a psych ward or watch Sybil in reruns to see that kind of dissociation! After a tentative try to test the strength of the specially pre-weakened table, she hurls it about, because, as she said earlier, she doesn’t want to be rude. (Never mentioned violence, did she?)
Joe leaps up to drag his screaming wife into a conveniently placed extra room, where he finds himself strangely turned on (per Teresa’s bravo blog) and excited and quickly gets rid of D. Rex (who’d sensed where the action was switching and scuttled over…or maybe like in Jurassic Park she was attracted by light and movement) and makes hot angry love to her right there on the floor. Andy, watching, twists his hands in an impotent rage. The Phillipino pool boy will not have an easy night, he realizes.
Finally, proving that he doesn’t belong on the show, Jacqueline’s husband the handsome Chris, announces that there exists these concepts called “sanity” and “maturity” and that henceforth he expects everyone to try to live up to them. Sheepishly they file out of the wreckage, D. Rex and Caroline in high insult, hopeful Andy trotting along behind the bouncing buttocks of one or the other of the Manzo boys, the kids scarred for life, mute in horror, or calling their agents back, Joe and Teresa smoothing down their clothes and Danielle looking satisfied, tossing her hair and downing yet one more glass of champagne. It may be as ugly as her sordid past, but it was her victory, dammit, and she wasn’t going to leave without savoring it.
Or without doing the waiter in the bathroom. I mean, he was poor but totally hot. Andy twisted his hands in more impotent rage.
Across the Miles
June 14, 2009 at 12:39 am | In Friends, Fun and Relaxation | Leave a CommentTags: Aligning Minds, Astoria, Coeur d'Alene, First Maintenance Battalion, Great Salt Lake, Idaho, Leavenworth, monorail, Montana, Mount St. Helens, Oregon, Pike Place, Salt Lake City, Seaside, Seattle, Space Needle, Spokane, Washington
Yes, we’ve been across the miles, from here to Washington (State) and back. That’s why there’ve been no blog posts of late, but ah hah! I’m going to rectify that.
Day One (sorry, no oats for Doris)
Last Thursday at Godawfulearly in the morning we took the Super Shuttle to BWI to fly to Seattle. Imagine our surprise when we got there and found out the damned flight had been canceled. We were somewhat displeased, as you can imagine. However, we were rerouted (via Dallas instead of Chicago) and suffered only a “small” delay. Which however, knocked out much possibility of sight-seeing in Seattle that afternoon, but allowed me to claim one more state, even if only for an airport layover. Here is a picture of irrigated fields in Texas, the Dallas airport and snow covered mountains between there and Seattle:
We got to Seattle and checked in and realized just how tired we were. I napped and then instead of going downtown to see the city by night, we had a a pizza delivered and went to bed after consuming it. Driving in we got a sight of the Seattle skyline:
Day Two (still no oats for old Doris)
Up and at ‘em early for breakfast (still amazed at how nice people were – so different from the Kings and Queens of ‘Tude we get around here) and then downtown to the Space Needle to look out over Seattle (all are thumbnails so click to make them bigger):
Then we hopped the monorail downtown and a city bus (they’re free in downtown Seattle!) to Pike Place market. I could have wandered around downtown all day. Unlike Baltimore or Washington, people still go downtown to shop, socialize, dine, gather, just like in Europe. It makes a difference – Seattle was so clean and neat and tidy and safe-feeling. I felt right at home (the grey skies and damp wind may have helped!). After wandering around the market we stopped for tea and crumpets at a little cafe and made our way back to the rental car:
From there we left the urban delights of Seattle, wishing we could stay a bit longer, and drove down a somewhat crowded I-5 past Tacoma and Olympia to Kelso, WA, where we were to stay the night. I discovered that the Oregon coast was only an hour away so we decided that rather than spend another evening in the hotel room dining on delivery pizza we’d go exploring. It was dark-ish and gloomy and foggy but we had a good time, crossed into Oregon and drove down US30 through Astoria (where The Goonies and Free Willy, among others, were filmed), a charming port town on the Columbia River, all steep streets and Finnish workers’ halls (ah, the memories of Finland), to Seaside, where C braved the cold winds and flying mist to snap a few pictures of the Pacific. (My plantar fasciitis was and is acting up and I didn’t care to make it worse climbing all over the sand). We came back through Astoria again (there aren’t many roads out there!) and had dinner at a fish and chips place. Far too much fish! But good.
Day Three (how sad, Ms. D.)
Leaving the parking lot we saw this – an old Citroën 2CV (aka a ‘Duck’) which I’d not seen since my days in Germany, and guess what? It had Maryland plates of all things. Just think of the odds against us seeing it. Somebody from our state drove this tiny little car all the way across the country to wind up in this non-descript town on this particular day for us to see. If you own this car in question – please tell me what you were doing and how you got there – it has to be a fascinating story.
From that vision we were off to see Mount Saint Helens, through the fog and rain. The ride up along WA 504, Spirit Lake Highway, is very dramatic once you pass the little villages up – you can still see the silted up river beds and blasted trees. The road’s been improved since the eruption in 1980 and has some impressive bridges. The visitors’ center at Johnston Ridge was very well done; there were explanations of the eruption, the pyroclastic flow, the lateral blast, the ash fall, and a great movie that gave a real sense of what it was like to see. I’d have liked to learn more about what the ash falling was like but I did appreciate the rest of the insights. We got to pick up all the different types of rock that can be created, feather-light pumice stone to glassy obsidian – it’s so hard that surgical instruments can be made from it and they never lose their edge, which can be smoother and finer than steel can be made. All in all it was a fascinating time even if I don’t have impressive pictures of the blast crater and growing dome to show you.
Leaving Mt. St. Helens we drove quite a way nearly back to Seattle and on up WA SR 18 to I-90 through the Snoqualmie Pass, which we couldn’t see due to the rain, and over the ‘rain shadow line.’ It was amazing; one moment it was wet and drippy and foggy and the next it was dry and sunny and nearly arid. We got off I-90 and drove up through the Wenatchee National Forest to Leavenworth, a German-themed town full to the brim with touristy but charming shops and restaurants and performing artists and artisans. We walked from the hotel into town and picked a lovely little restaurant, the Andreas Keller, for Wiener Schnitzel with Spätzle – while most German Gasthäuser don’t have fiddlers wandering about, everything else was very authentic, the pale pine furniture, the Münchener Hofbräu adverts, the Bavarian paintings on the outside and inside of the place. Walking back we took our time window shopping and enjoying the lights of the town. It was so cool and pleasant and honestly I didn’t want the evening to end:
Day Four (Doris has given up the ghost)
After a breakfast in a Danish bakery (rather good turnovers) we wandered around Leavenworth’s tiny downtown. If (a) we were driving home and (b) hadn’t gotten a bit frustrated at the decorative dust-catchers and tchotchkes around the house and (c) didn’t have some German and Russian things already we’d have spent up a storm. We did go into an Australian store but it was trying too hard and too full of touristy things that C cringed at. But the day was so relaxing and nice; we sat under the shade of a big oak tree and listened to the oom-pah-pah band and watched the world go by.
After Bratwurst at what amounted to an Imbiß (mmm good) we hopped into the car and crossed central Washington to Spokane and my friend CB’s house. Now once we descended from the hills, we entered a strange land of rocky hills and riverside cliffs, unlike anything I’d ever seen before. This was amazing to me and I wish I could have stayed. However, that soon transitioned to a rather boring flat area, before the road hilled up again approaching Spokane. We met CB at his comic book shop where C bought a comic for me to send to a South African guy I know. (Should have mailed it off today, darn it!) At his house we met his lovely wife and two charming children and caught up and chatted. They served us a lovely dinner and we retired early. It was so great to see CB again; I’d last seen him when he was still in the Army, stationed in Böblingen, Germany, in April of 1985. We tried to remember old friends’ and coworkers’ names (SGT Frater, Annette somebody, Ann Gloninger, Lynn somebody) and reminisced quite a bit. C was so nice sitting there listening to what had to be for him somewhat boring:
Day Five (nothing from Doris)
Up for coffee and breakfast and off so as not to be a burden to CB or his family. We drove out from Spokane to Idaho, and then just over the border into Montana. That adds two more states! Coffee/lunch-ish in Coeur d’Alene, ID, which is stunningly beautiful. You’ll have to take my word for it as I have no pics. Sorry. Back to the comic book store so C could do a little shopping for himself, then out to dinner with CB+family for Italian. Before we could go out, though, we had to stop and admire his giant cock. It’s quite a cock. He decorates it for the holidays and seasons; if I had a big cock like that I’d do the same. Are you tired of the cheesy double entendres yet? I am. Later on we were up quite late chatting. CB’s missus is very easy to get along with. And, if you’re in the Spokane area, look for her delicious and beautiful shimmering and delicate chocolates to be in better stores soon. She kindly shared some with us and they were delicious. The white ones with the opalescent effect were ethereally beautiful. Nearly too good to eat.
Day Six (Doris will never be seen again) and really, unwanted Day Seven
Flying is fun, but as my friend DRS pointed out, air travel isn’t. Because of storms back east, our flight from Spokane to Salt Lake was delayed, and our flight from Salt Lake to BWI was delayed even more. Basically, after saying a reluctant goodbye to CB and realizing it sucks that we’re so far apart, we were travelling until 3 am (EDT). It was grueling. I mean, no one thing was particularly exhausting, the flights were mostly uneventful but all the waiting was a bit much, and getting in to the deserted (except for us long suffering travelers) at nearly the same time we’d been dropped off on the first day of our trip was not planned. We couldn’t possibly get to work the next day and I think were were asleep until something like noon. We did on the trip get to see the Great Salt Lake (interesting, not all that gorgeous) and the Wasatch Front in Utah (another state!). I really would like to get to Utah one day and see the Front and Bryce Canyon and all the strange otherworldly geography in the southern part of the state:
Oh, yeah, forgot to mention. C & I didn’t sit together from SLC to BWI. He got to sit next to two interesting, friendly, chatty, fascinating (and rather good looking) musicians who make up an electronic band called “Aligning Minds” – I’d like to go see them. I got sat next to a Mr. Grumpy who glared at whatever book he was reading the whole time (and refused to trade with C so we could sit together). Also, we had to take a very expensive taxi because Super Shuttle stops running at 1 am. Next time I’m parking at the airport…except maybe not because I do like the car to be in the driveway. Anyway, thanks very much to CB and his family for a wonderful visit and I can tell anyone who’s not been there, Washington is a beautiful state.
It Has To Be a Joke
June 2, 2009 at 8:10 pm | In Cute Guys, Family, Work | 2 CommentsTags: Evan Farmer, Nick Beyeler, Scott McGillivray
That’s what I thought this morning. See, I woke up, reached over to pick up my glasses, and felt then snap in my hand. The arm had broken. C and I searched everywhere for my old back ups – he doesn’t drive so without the specs, we’re stuck. No luck finding them (so I will be buying new ones soon) so I called work, canceled my appointment with my counsellor, and went with C to see if the opticians could help me. Ordinarily it would have been horrible enough but remember – we’re up against a time constraint. Crapola, right? Luckily the lab manager at “Furle Vision” had a temple and could replace it so all was well in the end. Mind you, I still couldn’t work up the guts to call JJ and tell him that despite his be-goatee’d magnificence I don’t want to be working for his youthful arrogance.
“Call mum and dad at home”
Is what I told the car’s bluetooth connection to see how my mum was doing and at least her pre-op appointment went well and she seems a bit more confident about the op. Great news!
The handsome hunks of home improvement
That’s the theme for now. I was watching, well, I was trapped the other day, held hostage against my will by HGTV or TLC or whatever channel’s tactic of starting the next show right on the heels of the one ending, watching all sorts of home improvement shows, lawn crashing and bashing, remodeling and renovating, and I thought – wow, there are some pretty handy bits of eye candy there and wow, that’d make a good theme, since pictures of the Swiss Mister are not thick on the ground. I worked out too that this theme would fit in well with the earlier pictures of Gilmar Rodrigues working so well with his tool.
Without further ado, then, here’s today’s installment of a handsome hunk of home improvement, Scott McGillivray from “Income Property” on HGTV. He specializes in helping home owners fantasize about hot hard hats, or fixing up their basements to lease out. Or both. I mean, really. He’s Canadian, and very very cute. Sadly, there aren’t that many shots of him but trust me on this one and check him out. Oh, and you should see what he can do to transform a basement into a very “des res.” I mean they are still basements, but they are basements you’d want to spend time in. And pay to do so! Other than the one from Sunday, I’ve only found two pictures of Scott, plus a video with clips from his show. It’s pretty amazing.
We can make it a twofer
It is Tuesday after all. Our next HHoHI is ‘life experience junkie” Evan Farmer, from While You Were Out and Freestyle. (Since cancelled.) Now let’s see, Evan’s studied architecture, was born in Ethiopia (well, in Asmara which is now the capital of Eritrea), starred in an MTV made-for-television movie (as a boy band heartthrob, of course), been in a real band in Russia, opened for Britney Houston, and acted in movies and on television (he was the young Number Two in the third Austin Powers movie).
A real talented guy and a heck of a lot of fun to watch, even if you didn’t find him incredibly charmingly attractive, as C and I did. He writes a great and fascinating blog. He sings like a young John Mellencamp, whom he completely doesn’t talk like. He is active in quite a bit of philanthropy, built his own plane which he then flew across the country. One one level it feels a bit sleazy using him just for eye candy; but what the heck. I do encourage you to go to his website and get to know him – he seems to be a pretty extraordinary guy.
Not to mention as cute as a particularly cute button (click the two smaller Evans to get bigger Evans):
And finally, here’s a video from 1997 when Mr. Farmer was a bartender in New York. One person on the YouTube page with this video said that the bar is a gay one; who knows?
And here is, building a plane and flying it cross country:
Now a quiz: Which blond built HHoHI was on While You Were Out with Mr. Farmer? He’ll be our next Handsome Hunk. Meanwhile, just so you don’t forget Mr. Beyeler, here he is showing excellent (useful) flexibility:
(That could be good for party tricks…or vice versa)
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