There is a reason I call my daughter the PITA. She can be a serious pest. (She can be the B word too, but I'm not going there today.) Once she decided that she wanted a blog, she pestered me. She kept saying she wanted to call it Sissies Go Home. She said it was a blog for the socially dead. I thought that was a pretty interesting phrase. I Whois'd it. Available. Then I came up with the tagline, Life is Tough, when you have no Life. The PITA got very excited. I told her the cost of a domain and hosting. That's when she said, "ME LIKEY. I WANT."
Spoiled brat.
So with the kind help of Jester, who set up Wordpress, email, and fixed my header dilemma, the PITA now has a blog. A blog that is far more stylish and cool than mine. A blog that will probably garner far more attention than her attention whore mother. Meh. I can live with that.
So please stop by Socially Dead and say hi to Motley. She already knows the likes of Jester, Fab, Dave's bad monkey, Karl's phallus, Matt's Sunday Disservice, Shiny (the girl), and MaryO. Next thing you know,she'll be doing a duet with Fab at the Big Honking Duet Show!
Before I sign off today I want to share some humpday hotness. I miss hotness. I need more hotness in my life. Today, I'm sharing Will Chalker with you. You straight men need to head to the bottom of this post. I'll share something else with you there. And now, here's Will, he of the luscious wheat colored hair and long lean... um muscles. I have a host of Will pics because my friend Jen used him to represent one of her characters at the Bar. At first, I wasn't all that taken with Will, but you know, those muscles grow on you. And once I saw him smiling in a pic (a Paco Rabanne Black ad) I was a goner.
For the men I have someone whom all the woman seem to think is hot. A little topless Eliza Dushku anyone? She certainly is hot. Personally, I liked Liz from last week better but Eliza's pretty damn hot too. Eliza too was chosen by Jen to represent one of her characters. Jen has an eye for what's hot. And, no. She doesn't have a blog. For those of you who write though, you will find her at JR Ward's Black Dagger Brotherhood message board, where she's a moderator. I'm always envious when she says she's talked to the author on the phone. I can't be too envious though. She's gotten me every one of the BDB books signed!
I hope you enjoyed the Humpday Hotness, and if you get the chance, stop by Socially Dead. Have a great Wednesday!
I'm a little burned out this Friday. Way too much shit coming down in different areas of my life. I seriously need to use up some of those vacation hours that I keep stockpiling. So, in the freakshow that is my life, I first give you a story about my kid and a penis. Oh, wait. Heh. Here's the real intro:
I'm guest blogging at Bluepaintred! (I'm not w00ting out of deference to Karl, who says w00t is not a word. Of course, it's not, Karl. It's a sound. Like MEH.)
Next, I have for you the Slogan thing that Dave did. Mine, in keeping with the theme of my life, was... freaky.
Next up is something I cannot even articulate. It pisses me off and raises my blood pressure. I'm sure you will find this amusing. I look at it and want to strangle my teenager.
Another thing in the freakshow of my life is that my damned back still hurts. In fact, I'm starting to feel like my left hip is out of whack. Then I remember falling out of the shower onto that hip about 4 years ago. I have a keloid on the hip now from that fall. But it really feels out of whack. Oh, and the doctor I loved so much... came back to work after having a baby and dismissed me. ME! I have no doctor now. My asthma and I feel like crying. I mean, her name was American. She spoke English without an accent. She had a surfboard on the wall of her office. I feel abandoned.
I'm depressed. I want to spend money I don't have. And everyone's blog made me smile tonight. Except Jason X's. I actually laughed at his. Okay, maybe I chuckled at Diesel's soda badger. But nothing has made me really really laugh since Fab posted the mummy with the caption I Can Has Moisturizer? And even freakier than that, this is my favorite LOL:
Last night, I gave Jester 3/4's of my hotties. What was I thinking? Now, we'll be posting the same guys! Okay, I saved some good ones for myself. After all, I love them more than he does. I think. Shit. I think I got the pics off some gay guy's site. So maybe Jester does love hotties more than me. All gay men seem to have the best hotties on their sites. But do they have... Ian Somerhalder? I think not! HA!
And speaking of hotties, Hilly's car just might get supplanted in my heart. Turnbaby's car is THUD. Oh, how I love the smell of octane in the morning... Injected engines full throttle on a long stretch of open highway. Just not the one where James Dean died. I've seen the weird ass monument to him out there in the middle of nothing. It's a piece of silver metal wrapped around a tree. It's insulting if you think about how he died.
Freaky might be my life at the moment, but if you haven't seen Matt's Pope hat, check it out. He was way hotter than Benny and I spent more time on his site this morning than I did watching Benny's mass. And if the Pope hat is too reverent for you, best go look at Hellohahanarf's first Half Nekkid Thursday. I have never seen a woman so happy to hold her feet in the air when the camera was rolling. I know it's not her most recent blog post, but shit. All of her posts are worth reading and this one is worth ogling. Heh.
I think there was something else I was gonna talk about in this freakshow that is my life, but I can't remember what it is. So you will just have to live with this fucked up post. How bad can it be anyway? It doesn't have a fake naked Hermione or Harry Potter's real foreskin. No one but Avitable could post that anyway. I don't eat or drink when I visit his site. I'd go broke replacing monitors if I did. Wait. I already am broke.
Now, that I've pimped and ass kissed my way through a freakshow of a Friday post, here's a song for you since I didn't have one this past Tuesday. I wonder if you will get the irony of it... Oh, and BTW, if I didn't pimp you out today, remind me that I owe you a toe licking or something if we ever meet.
Okay, I'm outta here. I'm going to bed with Anderson Cooper. Hopefully, I'll get to sleep before Lou Dobbs comes on. He's not nearly as good a bed partner as Anderson. Happy Freakshow Friday peoples!
Since I am guest blogging over at The Kyra Sutra, I thought I would throw a hodge podge of things at you here. Something simple. I figured I would pimp a few things, show off a couple pics, rant and bitch a little, and uh, tease you. Of course, such a simple idea can snowball if you're talking to Shiny when you're spouting off your ideas. She said, "Ooh, pimpin' stuff on Friday. What a great end to the week!" I'm thinking, I wasn't gonna do THAT much pimping. Then she got really quiet and I wondered if she went to get coffee... Oh, no. That would have almost been better than what she did go do. She popped up fairly quickly and dropped a link into the IM window. What appeared was this:
You're laughing. I know I did. I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants. (Must stop drinking so much Diet Dr. Pepper.) I'm not crazy about the hat, but I LOVE the Pimp Goblet. Or whatever they call it. So now, because Shiny went to so much trouble to ensure that this is Big Pimp'N Friday, I give you, my pimps of the week:
Greg from the horse racing sim didn't like any of the music I posted this week. Therefore, this pimp is for Superhopper, a band near and dear to Greg's heart. If Greg comes online before I finish writing this post I'll get a picture of Kermit, the singer, to add to this. The pic I'm thinking of is a must see. The music rocks and my fave is the very first song!
Next, on my pimp list is a message board near and dear to MY heart. It's run by a hot young Scottish lad who stands 6'10". It's called Zanctuary and the folks there love new people. Most of the members are female, so if you are male and you like being hit on, having your ego stroked, and pretty much having a harem, this message board could be for you! However, since some of the people are, ahem, sexually open (into BDSM, bisexual, etc) you shouldn't go there if you aren't like minded, or at least quite tolerant. Women may find the place rather fun too, but I really think the men would like it more. I've brought a bunch of guys there. They all love the attention!
I want to give a shout out to some people with new blogs. First up is Shiny. She was supposed to write a rant about how she wanted to be the only Shiny, only to discover there is a male Shiny. I haven't been there yet to see if she did. However, we can all run over there and check her out at RxVenomQueen's Thoughts. Now, the male Shiny is apparently a new blogger too! His blog is quite amusing. You have to read the one with the email to his brother using spam. Shiny, the man, can be found at Shiny's Takeout. Now, if I tout Her Shinyness, I must also tout My Biotch, Mary. Mary's blog is no frills. So is her writing, but you will still come away with a chuckle at the very least. Mary's Two Cents from Flippen is worth a read. Oh, and there's hotties today. Woot! And last but never least, is the gal that everyone knows from her comments. Hellohahanarf opened up shop and boy, is she doing some hot biz! You will find her standing on a Midnight Cliff.
Mr. Fabulous has a CLEAVAGE CONTEST going on at his blog and he posted his cubicle for all to see. In honor of his cubicleness, I am posting a pic of my office, which isn't an office. It's just a big desk in a big room with a bunch of other desks. This pic was taken last October, but nothing much has changed. Just my computer's desktop and our phone system. That's the old phone in the left corner of the pic, and a hot Scotsman on my desktop. I put a screenshot of my blog on my desktop every morning now.
Matt-Man is gearing up for a BIG weekend. After all, Friday is GOOD Friday, and we know Matt is yummy and good. He's really been on it with the religious stuff recently, but his meatlessness will be at an end this weekend. I'm sure there will be many "Praise Jeebus" choruses heard in Bagwine in the next 72 hours. Not being a Catholic, although I have some crazy baptismal certificate that says I'm one, I don't know much about all this religious stuff. I coulda sworn Palm Sunday was a masturbatory holiday. Swing by Matt's place and see how he's preparing to partake of meat once more.
Now, don't forget that I'm supposed to be going over to The Kyra Sutra to post some fuction, er fiction about butt sex. Turnbaby got the crowd all hot and bothered with some hot Southern style lunchtime sex, and I am gonna deliver some explicit California style erotica where my heroine gives up her little rosebud to our tatted down hero. Yes! A chance to be free of my home-blog constraints! If Kyra can post Dean's naked ass on her blog, I can certainly post some fiction about a fairy taking it up the ass.
That's it for the Big Pimp'N Friday post. Come see how outrageous I get over at Kyra's. Cause ya know, we all need a little fuction sometimes!
No one mention Twinkies, okay? Oh, the inhumanity! No, I'm not talking about how my boss lives on the things. Although, that's kind of inhumane too. Or would be if he didn't love Twinkies...
On this lovely Tuesday, I have a tune for you! I hate remakes. Usually. But ya know, I came across this one by accident, and I really like it. I had a copy of U2 doing Paint It Black and it was good. Cause ya know, everything U2 does is freaking good. They are the best thing to come out of Ireland since St. Patrick told the snakes to take a hike. Well, not really. I think Guinness is the best thing, but I don't drink it personally so I have no frame of reference. Rott loves his Guinness Extra Stout though. BAH! The song, the song! Shit!
So I have this copy of Paint It Black. And it's cool. I love it. In fact, I'm pretty certain I love it more than the original. So take a listen to Vanessa Carlton!
Next week I might be persuaded to play Pussy Liquor... I know you all love Rob Zombie. If you don't, you'll like the song anyway I bet. Oh, hell. Here it is... I starting thinking about Dean aka The 109 and now Pussy Liquor is stuck in my head! It's a total sex song. A pole dancing song... pole dancing in a thong and Frederick's corset and some sexy suede ankle straps. Roger Vivier ankle straps... Ohhhhh, yesss... I am so getting off track every time I turn around in this post!
Now, Mary really dug on the hottie last week so I'm bringing him back. This guy's name is Roman. I only have three pics of him, the hot pic from last week, this week's Russian themed pic, and a head shot. I like last week's pic better than this one, but this one has a lot more skin to it. Can't argue with more skin. Although Marcus in a kilt is better than this guy in the flesh. They were talking about kilts on Sunday in someone's chatroom at BTR and all I could think of was the pic I have of Marcus in a kilt... Ohhhhh, yesss... See? There I go again with the distractions! Geez. What's up with me today? I wonder what Dean looks like in a kilt?
Since I always neglect the men, I decided to be nice to them today. Here is Kristen Bell. In the Bar Story, Kristen's the physical representation of Isolde Vespera aka Sol. If you happened to read that hot excerpt from the Bar where Weylyn has sex with Sol in a stall in the men's room at Wicked Pleasures, now maybe you can visualize it a little better. If you didn't read it the last time I posted it, click on Weylyn's name. Make sure you turn on a fan though.
Well, that's it this Tuesday. I've been distracted all over the place. I blame it on Kyra and Fab and Matt. Matt starts showing off his organ for Half Nekkid Thursdays. Then Fab posts massive boobage. And the biggest sinner of them all is Kyra posting Dean's hot naked butt. The camel kinda messed me up, but the ass was fine! Thank you all for coming by to laugh at me getting distracted!
PS To Commenters: Make it funny. And relevant to this post. Otherwise, if you're just coming here to smack about something from another blog, I'll use the power of the delete, cause ya know, it's all already old.
Over at the Bar, Mary made the very valid point that I am not a pimp, I'm a ho. So I guess it isn't being a pimp to ask everyone to stop by Blogs We Luv today to read what they've posted about me! It's an exciting thing to me. As exciting as the prospect of Fab making me cry on his show when he pops my cherry. Being a ho is fun!
I also referenced myself as the Proprietress of PornFest over at Blogography. Dave took that in stride. I think it's because Fab says such outrageous stuff all the time that you can pretty much say anything to someone who knows him and they will swallow it whole. Not that I'm NOT the Proprietress of PornFest. When Rott turns on PornFest, I'm the only girl in the house, 'cept for the ones on every TV in the house. Since it's my house, that makes me the Proprietress. I really don't mind PornFest. I actually like porn. I even like some of the lesbian porn Dave was trying to decide on. Those of you who have been reading this blog since its inception, oh, two months ago, know that I like porn. Those of you who are new to this den of iniquity... not only do I like porn, I like butt sex. GASP! Shocking, isn't it? I guess I really am a ho...
I did ho myself around in a few places. I posted about Fab's radio show at the Bar and the horse racing sim. I posted at Zanctuary too, and I even mentioned being on Today's Gripe. I haven't hit up all the places I go yet, but it's early days. By May, everyone I know will be eager to tune into Fab's show to hear my smoky Stevie Nicks voice.
My Tuesday tune is a favorite of mine. I had it on my MySpace for quite awhile, I liked it so much. I hope you enjoy it! I put it up today not just because it's Tuesday and I like the song, but because I have another taste of the Bar for you - it's the Girl With Fangs again, Lex Valentine. In this post, Lex goes to her friend Dominic's house because the band she manages is there. The band, The Dark Ones of the Disgraced, - or the DOD - is falling apart. They lost their bassist and their drummer just lost his mate. The drummer is in bad shape, and Lex is going to try to shore him up because the band has a album to finish. Dominic Solent, the band's producer, is at his wit's end and hopes that Lex can whip these guys back into shape. This is Lex's first time seeing the guys since she found out she's pregnant, so there's a few jokes in there about her husband Alaric's sperm. Hope you like it! Click HERE to read the post.
I have a buttload of work to do for the Bar. I'm feeling a little rejuvenated though because we got ourselves a new writer today. We welcomed our third male writer to the Bar. He's another hot Scotsman, a close friend of our current hot Scotsman, Dee. Dee and Nath bring a whole new element to the Bar Story, and I'm looking forward to seeing how it all plays out.
One last thing on my ho-ness. I'm wondering if it was my pimpage of myself that got Diesel to stop by and post a comment. I mean, to me, that's like Marcus Schenkenberg knocking on my door and asking if I wanna go drink a pitcher or two of margaritas with him. I love Diesel. He's like the penultimate in funny. I could never aspire to be even half as amusing as his pinkie. Okay, Dave's cuter, Matt has a bigger organ, and Fab can fist, but Diesel has... cache. I dunno. I about peed my pants when I saw he left a comment on here. My ho-ey self totally preened. Mary called it alright. I am such a freaking ho. Happy Tuesday peeps!
Susan over at West of Mars was telling me about writing prompts. Now, I usually have enough stuff to write that I don't get involved in these things. If I did, I'd never get my Bar posts done! However, her suggestion was to look for a prior Bar post that fit the prompt. I kinda blew the whole thing off in my head, but then I went to Mr. Grudge's blog. His post today talks about writers stretching themselves. I dunno, somewhere between the two writing things and a grilled cheese sandwich (yes Matt, with Velveeta!), I decided to look at Sunday Scribblings. The prompt was Time Machine.
My excuse to Susan for pooh poohing the prompts was that there are so many Bar posts that by the time I found the one that worked, it would be time for another prompt. Okay, I exaggerated. Well, only a little really, because on a bad week, that is probably very true. However, Time Machine did make me think of a particular post.
In the Bar Story, Alaric and Alexandria find themselves in shared dreams even before they meet. They both have the same dream at the same time, hearing, seeing, feeling, and tasting the same things. The dreams are visions of what their future could be, if only they would take control of their destiny. After they meet, the dreams basically start coming true. So to tie in the prompt in a very creative way, the time machine for Alaric and Lex, is their shared dreams of the future.
And now, without further ado... My Time Machine prompt: Our Lives
The stars were incredibly bright in the night sky. Every one of the French doors stood open to the warm summer breeze. I could see the fountain at the front of the house shooting up into the air, the lights and music making the whole picture a beautiful tableau like a mini Bellagio. My heart swelled with love as I sat in the rocker just inside the French doors. Alaric was so over the top sometimes, I thought with an indulgent smile. Creating his own personal version of the Bellagio fountain was his idea of a gift. We danced on the terrace outside our bedroom whenever he cued up the music from our wedding. He was the most romantic man I had ever known…
“Angel, you bring it out in me,” he murmured, coming up behind me and dropping a kiss on the top of my head. “I was just a drunk before I met you.”
I gazed up at him with my heart in my eyes. “And I was just dying,” I smiled. “We were certainly a pretty pair, weren’t we?”
Alaric pulled up a chair and sat down beside me. “We were, and are, a perfect pair,” he maintained. His eyes dropped from mine to the blanket wrapped bundle in my arms. The baby’s fist was nestled up against my breast as he suckled. His head, with its tuft of dark downy hair, rested in the crook of my arm. The blanket, predictably, had giraffes on it.
I looked up at Alaric and saw the tears in his eyes as he watched his son nurse. He reached out with one long finger and stroked the baby’s cheek. The baby opened his eyes sleepily, and then grasped the finger with his hand. “He knows it’s you,” I whispered. “He knows you love him.”
“Angel, there is nothing in the world I love more than the two of you,” Alaric husked, his voice filled with emotion. “You and Aric are everything to me.”
The baby blinked up at us with dark blue eyes as his little rosebud mouth worked my nipple. My heart ached with love for my husband and my son. “This is everything I ever wanted out of life,” I said softly, reaching with my free hand to touch the side of Alaric’s face. He turned his head and kissed my palm, his blue eyes shining with love. “A home, a beloved, children, and a career. I can’t believe I have it all.”
“And a family too,” Alaric added with a smile. “Mom and Dad and Lucius love you too. And don’t forget Carlisle and Stein.”
I sighed with contentment and looked down, as Aric finishing nursing. His head fell back away from my breast, as his eyes closed and sleep overcame him. I lifted him carefully to my shoulder to burp him, but felt Alaric’s hands stop me. He took the blanket off my shoulder and draped it across his own broad shoulder. Then he took Aric from me and nestled him against the folded blanket, rubbing the baby’s back in circles and giving him an occasional soft pat. I wiped my breast and adjusted my shirt, all the while watching my love burp his son. It was such a beautifully emotional thing to see, the way the huge man cared for the tiny baby.
Aric let out a huge burp, and my startled eyes flew to Alaric’s. He laughed softly and got up to put the sleeping baby in the carousel crib that stood near our bed. He came back and took my hand, leading me out onto the terrace where he drew me into his arms and kissed me, first gently with love, and then with fast rising passion.
“This is our life Angel,” he murmured against my mouth. “Believe it…”
My eyes opened slowly. It was morning. I could hear the birds outside the little round window near our bed at Soleil Sombre. It was dark in the bedroom, as all the windows were covered with blinds to keep out the sun. I lay on my back, feeling the pleasant pull of my muscles after the rigorous sex Alaric and I had engaged in earlier. My husband’s arm lay heavily across my abdomen. I could hear his even breathing, and feel his breath on my naked shoulder.
Then his arm moved. I felt his hand gently stroking the slight curve of my belly. “Is he there yet?” Alaric asked softly. “I wonder…”
I stroked my hand over his hard arm. “I wonder too,” I whispered. “Especially after the dream.”
“His eyes are blue, Angel,” Alaric sighed with contentment.
“They could change and get darker,” I told him. “Most babies have blue eyes when they are born, and his were a very dark blue like Carlisle’s.” I turned my head, and my eyes met Alaric’s. “You called him Aric.”
A grin broke out on Alaric’s face. “I’ve been thinking of names,” he admitted. “My name means noble ruler. Aric means eternal ruler.”
“So no Alaric Junior?” I asked with a smile.
“Nah. Maybe my first name as a middle name, but we don’t need two Als running around the house. You’d get confused love,” he chuckled, teasingly.
I turned into his arms and felt him cradling me close to his big body. I nestled my cheek on his chest, my fingers stroking his collarbone. “No, I wouldn’t.” I sighed contentedly. “But feeling him nursing, his little fist kneading my breast…Oh, Alaric, that was amazing.”
“I know how you feel,” he admitted, holding me tightly. “When his hand gripped my finger, my heart turned over.”
“This is what we have to look forward to, my love. All of it.” I pressed a kiss to his skin, loving the taste and scent of him.
“I guess I better find an architect to handle the fountain,” Alaric laughed softly. “I need someone to redesign the bathrooms anyway. I’ll call Lucius when we get up. He’s had several working on blueprints for Stein.”
“Our bed comes today,” I reminded him. “You picked up the stuff on my list, didn’t you?” When he nodded sleepily, I said, “Then we’re going home tonight, Alaric. We’ll sleep in our bed, in our house.”
He let out a long sleepy sigh. “With you in my arms, it’s gonna be heaven,” he murmured as he drifted back to sleep.
I relaxed in his arms, my thoughts on the dream. I closed my eyes and let the sound of my beloved’s heartbeat lull me to sleep…
Ah, they are so cute aren't they? Okay, enough of the mushy shit. Here is a hardcore wallpaper for my bitch Mary. Hardbodies. Not one, but three of them! WOOT! Click on this carefully, then when it opens, right click, and save it as your wallpaper. Afterward, make sure your paper towels or napkins are nearby so you can quickly clean up the drool.
Those hotties made me hungry. I need another grilled cheese. And maybe some Chocolate Peanut Butter ice cream... oh, yeah. I could live on this. Unless I was going meatless like Matt. In which case, I would crave steak and pork chops incessantly. Hope you enjoyed the Tuesday Tune, the Sunday Scribble writing prompt, and the peek into the Dream Time Machine of the Bar. I'm out... the ice cream is calling me!
I like a good logic puzzle. I do not like it when I can't solve something or when there is no way to solve it. So the Air France thing is driving me bonkers. It has spoiled CNN for me. I mean, they play the darned commercial every half hour it seems. And no one, not one of you out here, knows how to find this guy. I'm even giving away a fanged t-shirt and no one can find the winner. Maybe I need to give away the fanged clock, fanged pillow, fanged hat, or fanged boxers instead. What do I gotta give away to get an answer? *sigh* I'm so depressed over this. I hate it when there is no solution to a puzzle.
Mr. Fabulous is going to give out info on his cleavage contest tomorrow. This is great! I have just the picture for him! Me and a black satin Fredericks of Hollywood corset. Unfortunately for me, the PITA bought a leopard print bra yesterday at Frederick's and gave me a pic for submission to Mr. Fab's contest. Apparently, she liked the Amish clay man on Fab's blog. I don't think I stand a chance against 18 year old double D's. Well, tomorrow he's posting the rules, so maybe I can beat her that way. Maybe she's not eligible. *EG*
I visit Blogs We Luv on occasion. Today I was over there and noticed that they are having a contest. Ooooh... contest. So I checked it out. To get more entries to the contest I had to answer 10 questions about my blog. That wasn't so hard. I mean, I like to talk about myself and the crap that I post. What's that? You're laughing over my use of the word "talk"? Okay, I babble. There. Ya happy now? Geez, the abuse a dork has to take even on the net these days.
Matt-Man over at Bagwine Ruminations gives out a major award each week. Since I was the recipient last week I had to go read the blog of this week's winner and leave a comment. It's really nice to click links and be taken to other worlds. Or rather, the world of other people. I am keeping the C.O.W. posted on my blog so that everyone who comes by knows that I said something of worth at least once in this life.
A little appreciation can go a long way toward making someone's day go a lot better. Whether it's winning a contest or an award or just telling them that they are "utterly fabulous" (thanks Nicholas!), the appreciation is well, ... appreciated! I know that I appreciate all of YOU, who come by here to read my babbles and see the pics of hot men that I post. For you guys, if the PITA doesn't qualify for Mr. Fab's contest I will post her bra pic here, just to show you that I appreciate you! And no, I'm not pimping my kid out. The pic's on her My Space.
I promise to get back to McKenna the writer and her hot model Rafael soon. I gotta get caught up at the Bar, and I'm dealing with some other issues here at home, but I haven't forgotten that I promised to write the next installment. Maybe I'll post some slimy Macaire from the Bar to tide you over. He was creeeepy this week. See you tomorrow for Marcus Monday!
Twelve steps work for some people. I don't think it would work for me. I mean, I don't think anyone would take me seriously if I got up in front of the group and said, "Hi. My name is Winter and I'm secretly fluffy. I have an obsession with... designer handbags." I am fluffy. Girlie. Googly eyed over some really feminine things. I never used to be like this. I used to be a much more hardy soul. As I get older though, I find myself liking some of these freakishly feminine things. Things that are distinctly... fluffy.
Now, I promise not to post my kid's baby pics or give you a TT with 13 reasons why I love my old man, but c'mon. I've subjected you to my purple toes already! So you know I like to do the pedicure thing. Well, I've graduated. I now do the pedicure AND manicure thing. I even buy my own OPI polish so I'm not using the salon's watered down stuff. I have a thing for OPI's Russian Collection. Currently, my fingers have on Russian Navy and my toes have Affair in Red Square. I have Siberian Nights, Midnight in Moscow, and Catherine the Grape too. Manicures and pedicures are fluffy things. You do not give a shit about my manicure and pedicure, do you?
Well, I'm copping to the mani/pedi thing only as a preface to showing you how serious my illness truly is. I came home yesterday wiped out from more than 10 hours at the office without lunch and nary a break. I checked taxbrain.com and lo and behold, my refund has hit the bank. CHA CHING. What did I, in my exhausted state, do? I went to eBay. I went to eBay and typed in 3 little words. DOONEY AND BOURKE. $86 and a matching star purse and wallet later, I left eBay and went to... uh huh, you guessed it... dooneyandbourke.com. I checked out the price of the giraffe print purse I've been lusting over for months. I checked out a cool bracelet. I put them both in the shopping cart and almost had a coronary. The cart was almost $300 once tax and shipping was slapped on. Holy Handbags!
Okay, I saved the cart. I did not check out. That was the first non-fluffy thing I'd done since I got home, if you discount sitting in front of the computer in my underwear and a ratty Eddie Bauer t-shirt. I went back to eBay... and found that same giraffe print bucket purse WITH a matching wallet going for less than the price of the brand new giraffe print purse. I put in a bid and someone promptly topped me. After that, I put the item on watch. I've been watching since last night. The auction ends tomorrow. I have not yet decided to buy the purse. Even though it is used, if it goes for less than $200 it is a steal. So, I'm watching.
While I'm watching tonight, after yet another 10+ hour day with no lunch break, I find a Dooney bracelet. This one has charms on it... fucking PINK charms. Ooooh. The one in the cart at Dooney's website doesn't have charms and is $55 + Tax + Shipping. This one is less than $50, has free shipping and no tax. At 3 minutes left in the auction, I'm a click fiend. The bracelet is now mine.
So, do you think that has satisfied my girlish obsession for awhile? Nuh uh. I'm still watching the giraffe purse. I still lust after it more than I lust after Matt-Man's knobby knees and tented boxers. I lust after it more than I lust after Marcus. *GASP* That is like the ultimate fluffy confession. That I want a giraffe print designer handbag more than Marcus Schenkenberg. I suppose it's because the purse is attainable, and Marcus, to my everlasting dismay, is not.
I am mostly sardonic in nature, but deep inside me there is a fluffy feminine girl who buys designer purses, paints her toenails purple or red, loves getting a manicure and pedicure, and... wants a Tiffany padlock pendant. *sniff* I'm sorry. I know you all thought I was above that girlish squeeing behavior. Go ahead. Feel free to call me a poser. I feel like one. Take away my Dooney camera bag purse with the rainbow candy colored zipper. I deserve your scorn. Maybe I'll make up for it by giving Mr. Fabulous a cleavage shot in a Frederick's of Hollywood black satin corset to post for his cleavage contest. After all, no self respecting fluff, who adores Victoria's Secret, would buy her corset at Frederick's. I, however, wouldn't think of buying it anywhere else but the last bastion of skanks and sluts. I guess there's hope for me after all.
Before I sign off today I want to share some humpday hotness. I miss hotness. I need more hotness in my life. Today, I'm sharing Will Chalker with you. You straight men need to head to the bottom of this post. I'll share something else with you there. And now, here's Will, he of the luscious wheat colored hair and long lean... um muscles. I have a host of Will pics because my friend Jen used him to represent one of her characters at the Bar. At first, I wasn't all that taken with Will, but you know, those muscles grow on you. And once I saw him smiling in a pic (a Paco Rabanne Black ad) I was a goner. 
For the men I have someone whom all the woman seem to think is hot. A little topless Eliza Dushku anyone? She certainly is hot. Personally, I liked Liz from last week better but Eliza's pretty damn hot too. Eliza too was chosen by Jen to represent one of her characters. Jen has an eye for what's hot. And, no. She doesn't have a blog. For those of you who write though, you will find her at JR Ward's Black Dagger Brotherhood message board, where she's a moderator. I'm always envious when she says she's talked to the author on the phone. I can't be too envious though. She's gotten me every one of the BDB books signed!
