Detritus
It took me five full minutes of sitting bolt upright this morning on my bed, after the alarm, to remember who I was and where I lived. That's sad, people, that's really pathetic. Especially given that I got more sleep than usual...6 hours instead of 5. So would I be at my best if I got only 4 hours sleep? I shudder to think...I shutter...to think....
So, given the addled state of my brain, and my co-workers making silent and unannounced pops into my cube this morning (ack!!! minimize window, stat!!!!), I'm doing a little sweeping, cleaning out, some things I've been meaning to tidy up, and whatnot.
1) A while ago I mentioned that New York Magazine had an article on the girl-date. It's here. Ya know, I don't have time for a date with Sergei, let alone having to dress up and ask my existing girlfriends for blind dates with their girlfriends. Urghk. Ladies, will you have a virtual drink with me and skip the whole girl-courtship thing? Cheers! (lifts her coffee mug and grins)
2) An interesting coupla articles from Discover magazine regarding fingers and fingerprints. I suppose men with longer ring-to-index-finger-ratios could be more aggressive...if you take that in the same vein as 'the size of their fingers/nose relates to penis-length'. The fingerprint thing is just geek-cool.
3) Last night I had a dream that led to another dream. First one, I'm in a church, with the girl-child, there's a wedding. We and another mom and her son were walking down the aisle to find seats. Instead of long pews, they had small booths. BUT only a few. We had to sit down front on kickboards...those floaty things kids take out in the lake. Ours was pink and flowery. Then the scene changed and I was in a house with white walls and expected to go to another church for another wedding, everyone else had gone EXCEPT for me and this 23-ish blonde bloke. Cutey-cutey. We lingered for a while and flirted but nothing happened. Then everyone came back from the wedding and there was cake.
4) I discovered a pouch of tobacco in my work closet yesterday, my fellow-former-smoker co-worker gave it to me several years ago as part of a Secret Santa package. It's Borkum Riff, Black Cavendish. It's pretty dry, but it still smells awesome. I'm not about to start smoking again, but the urge to stick some of this dry leaf up my nose is getting pretty intense. (sniff) Ah...woody...smoky...sweetness on my tongue...a hint of orange, perhaps...or cherry...autumn leaves...mushrooms.... And now I'm drooling....
5) I always make fun of those college girls who wear low-slung pants where their ass crack shows as they sit down. I silently scold them..."Cover that up! Ever heard of pants that fit?!?!?" So today I'm wearing a new pair of, whatever, crop pants, whatever you call 'em, and I sat down and...uh..yeah...right...ass crack. Frantically tucking in my halter top (oh shut up, I'm wearing a shirt over it, I'm not THAT ill-dressed at work). Good thing my desk chair has a big backrest, otherwise the guys would wander by today looking for the half-moon.
I have no idea how to end. I guess I'll leave the door open for additions this afternoon. 'Cause it's gonna be a long day....
posted by Mona Buonanotte @ 9:40 AM
12 comments
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12 Comments:
Girl date? Excuse me as I go giggle my ass off for a good hour.
Of all the pointless, waste of money, ridiculous ways to spend an evening I can think of, the girl date has to be at the top.
Then again, I'm a guy, and I can't fathom the concept of showering and getting dressed up without either going on a job interview or getting laid, so...
I once watched a student try to get up from her desk while wearing low rider pants and a high rider top. She stood up, pulled up her pants and pulled down her shirt. Then she bent over to put her books in her bag, then stood up, pulled up her pants and pulled down her shirt. She next bent over to pick up her bag, and pulled up her pants and pulled down her shirt.
Any attraction onlookers might have felt was completely overwhelmed by the sheer physical comedy of it.
Girl date? You didn't even make us wait until the third date before you regaled us with your shower story. You are an ass-crack-showing slut, aren't you? It's OK, you can admit it.
I had a flirty dream the night before last, a lunch date with a guy I met at the crossword tournament. (One of approximately two reasonably attractive men there. The other 250 or so men, not so much.) We were eating at this big, bright cafeteria-like place where you had to pick ouut some meat at the salad bar so it could be cooked for you, "Mongolian barbecue" style, and added to your salad. Anyway, we walked there side by side, arms around waists. Racy enough for ya?
Maine: The mating call of Maine..."Honey, I'm taking a shoooooower!" I'm sure Rachel appreciates it!
Rob: Your student would probably have been better off getting one of those full-body paint jobs, like Rebecca Romijn-Stamos in the second "X-Men" movie. No flesh to show, no clothes to tug at. And much more titillating.
Orange: You busted me. You busted me good. You forgot to add boob-flashing, smut-talkin', blaspheming, gleefully masturbating sex monger. But you already know that. As for your dream, is there a connection between 'picking out your meat' and 'picking up some man-meat'??
I never did understand the attraction of the low-rise pants. Not surprising, since people regularly pay me NOT to wear them ;)
The student was silly. The trick to wearing low-ride jeans is the same as the trick to wearing miniskirts: don't bend over--bend at the knees to pick things up.
Ah, but I like you, you coffee-swilling hoor! ;)
That girl-date shit is bunk. I mean, I hate the idea of not making time for my girlfriends, but I also hate the idea that we have to IMPRESS each other...
That was a very girly dream! Too cute..."and then, there was cake!" Are you sure that wasn't your daughter's dream? Heh :)
Yesh, BEWARE the asscrack! More often than not, I get to see some back-end boobage and point it out to my guy friends for a free eyeful. Don't they feel the draft...?
Serra: What the hell, buy some anyway and we'll walk down the street together taunting the men! "This belly? It's mine...it's real...and it's perfect!"
BPhD: That move has been called "The Bunny Dip". Albeit without the playboy bunny tail (usually).
Pisser: You sound a little like Lewis Black there..."hoor"...hee! As for impressing my girlfriends...(snort)...I want belching contests with my girlfriends.
and to think that underwear is so underestimated...
oh, totally. nothing worse than the ass-crack pants. I always find that I am sitting in an open backed chair at a crowded restaurant on the days I wear those. they're my fave, though, because I have a fat belly, so traditional "girl jeans" fit me for shit---too tight in the middle if they fit every else.
and yes, I'll go on a virtual drinking bender with you. uh...I mean, let's sip cocktails and do girl bonding. (but only because I know you're like me and we can check out/drool over all the frickin hottie McHottertons!!! and maybe make out.)
Annush: I'm appreciating smaller underwear more now, fer sure!
Lisa: Hell yeah, girl! It's a (virtual) date! Kisses!
"4) I discovered a pouch of tobacco in my work closet yesterday, my fellow-former-smoker co-worker gave it to me several years ago as part of a Secret Santa package. It's Borkum Riff, Black Cavendish. It's pretty dry, but it still smells awesome. I'm not about to start smoking again, but the urge to stick some of this dry leaf up my nose is getting pretty intense. (sniff) Ah...woody...smoky...sweetness on my tongue...a hint of orange, perhaps...or cherry...autumn leaves...mushrooms.... And now I'm drooling...."
Which is why you should start a whole Mammy Yoakum pipe-smoking trend... ;>
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