Yes, As A Matter Of Fact I Do Like Girls

This entire post sponsored by the Reverend Brandy.

Particularly her post "The Spank Bank"

Her story reminded me of an old story I thought I'd share. But to do so requires some exposition about me. So here goes.

A lot of people (mostly guys) who meet me for the first time think I'm gay. I don't know if it's how anal retentive I am about dressing and color coordination or if it's that fact that I have so many friends that are women. I don't know if it's the fact that I enjoy some musical theater or the fact that I can pick out a good wine when asked. Most of them know that I am straight, but make jokes to the contrary all the time. Because my shoes and belt are the same color. Because I treat women like human beings. Because I've seen Phantom Of The Opera 10 plus times. Because I've been wine tasting numerous times without being forced. Because I like to shop and have more shoes than most women. Because I am not the frat boy-beer chugging-misogynistic-stereotype male. I must be gay, right?

Now couple that with my sincere love of people watching. I LOVE to go out and watch people at the mall or restaurants or whatever. People truly astound me. It's usually because of what they are wearing. It amazes me what so many people think is acceptable to leave the house in. There are so many people with simply ghastly personal hygiene. I always say that I am WAY more concerned about appearance and hygiene than most people, but there are some people that simply have to be stopped. It's just nasty.

Which leads me to my old story.

At the old firm where I used to work I had a lot of girl friends. We used to go out to lunch all the time. Now, when these lunches took place during the summer, the real fun would begin. You see, my girl friends from the old firm were very attractive. They were 3 different body types, but each was very attractive. When summer rolled around, they'd be dressed in mini-skirts and tank tops and sun dresses and halter tops and what not and that's when the sharks would really start to circle.

So what I would do is hang back from them as we went where ever it was we were going for lunch. I had some of the most fun I have ever had watching guys literally going into seizures as the 3 girlies would walk past them. They'd stop and gawk. They'd pat each other on the back and point. They'd wolf whistle. They'd turn the other way and pretend to bump into them to start a conversation. I'm telling you it was amazing the affect they had on guys. If there was two or more guys, it seemed like it was some sort of genetic predilection that they had to make some sort of scene over the girls.

Now, please do not misunderstand me. I adore women. There have been many times when I have been stopped in my track by a beautiful woman. But, there is a difference between that and launching into the idiot vaudeville routine I've seen so many other guys fall into when a head of blond hair and a set of boobs walks by. I guess I look at a beautiful woman like any other wonderful experience in life. It is meant to be savored, not slathered with drool and bravado. And if you feel uncontrollably compelled to tell a woman she is the most beautiful creature you have ever seen, you can do so without the smarm of a balding used car salesman.

Had I been in a graduate program for sociology, this could have been my master's thesis. "The Female Form's Affect On The Male Pack Mentality". That would have been good times.

The New Super 8 Camera

It hit me today while I was watching some A&E crime program with Zoom that the blog is the new Super 8 Camera of the information/internet age.

You know how you always see those crusty and grainy home movies that Uncle Olaf shot of your 4th birthday party at the pool? Or the embarrassing pre-prom movies your parents always show you around the holidays? Just like it seemed that every baby boomer family was somehow how issued a Super 8 Camera to record ever bit of familial minutia, so too has the blog been issued to every person, family, grandparent, great aunt or battlefield corporal to record the same minutia in painstaking detail. We get to look in on every single person's life. Only without the painful grit or nauseatingly unsteady camera work from Uncle Olaf.

Case In Point.

Today's Entry. "El Loco".

Zoom and I are out test driving cars on a weekday night. Test driving surprisingly turns into car buying (more details later). The deal takes a little longer than expected (I'm usually pretty good with buying a new car - in and out in about an hour and half). Turns out the car I want needs a certain widget replaced as part of an aftermarket recall. Whatever. Fine, let's get the sale set up now and you can replace the framis or p-valve and I'll pick it up next week. That decided, it still takes almost 3 hours to set it all up.

It is now about 9:00-ish and we are starving. We head on over the El Pollo Loco to make with the eating. I order Zoom her customary BRC No C and I begin to order my usual 2 Chicken Breasts and flour tortillas, when the squawky box stops to tell me they have no chicken. Realizing it is late and actually being thankful the place is even open, I am still taken back by what the box just told me.

Confused, I repeat "You have no chicken?"
The box says, "Um yeah, we ran out of chicken today"
The gears in my brain seize as I say, "You have NO chicken, none at all?"
The box agrees with a "Yeah, we have no chicken. We just ran out of it today. Sorry."
It's funny now as I fire back with "You're El Pollo Loco, and you don't have any chicken. I guess you can just cancel the order then."

This stuck with me all the while Zoom and I were laughing and driving to the next El Pollo Loco. How can a place with the name of a foodstuff in it's name be out of the foodstuff in question? I could not get my mind around it. It'd be like going to Burger King and them telling you they were out of burgers. More to the point, why the hell are you frigging open if you have run out of the stuff your place is supposed to be all about selling? Do you get that many people coming to a place named and famous for their chicken ordering only french fries and pinto beans?

Maybe it's not as weird as I think it is. Maybe I was just really hungry and looking forward to my Chicken Breasts.

I still think they could have served the community better by blacking out the "Pollo" in their neon sign to let people know.

It's The Mechanics That Fascinate Me

I got into a discussion with Zoom the other day about alternative lifestyles.

I know what you're thinking, but it's not exclusively that.

I am talking about all ways of living that differ from the "norm". Whatever the hell that is.

I'm talking about gay couples. I am talking about the couple where one works and the other stays home (not necessarily to care for a child, but because the other "worker" makes so much frigging money working, that the "loafer" doesn't need to work). I am talking about polygamy.

The constant tenant with them all is that I am fascinated with the mechanics of how they "work". I don't have anything against any of them. Be happy. Do your thing. Whatever works. But the budding sociologist in me, what's to know how they work.

If you have a sugar daddy/mommy, how do you get pocket money? I mean, I understand the whole paying your bills/rent/mortgage/insurance/medical thing, but how do you get pocket money? Is there a shared account that you can bleed whenever you want? Are you like a SUV, do you just pull into the cash pump every once in a while and fill er' up? Do you have to whine to your daddy/mommy for pocket lolly?

If you have more than one wife/husband, how do you know where to sleep at night? Is there a roulette wheel of love? Is there a set schedule of shagging?

If you're gay and single, how do you know who to approach and who not to? Is there a speical hand shake or facial gesture that tips you off? When you finally get to the moment before your first same sex kiss, are you nervous? Do you hink to yourself, "Alright, this is it, after this there is no turning back"?

I'm a simple man. These are the things that I wonder about. Talk amongst yourselves.

It's Picture Time Again

I got engaged in Ireland. It was only the second time I'd been there, but I knew that after the first time I went, I had to bring the love of my life back there to ask her for her hand. I loved the place. Always will. Amazing scenery, beautiful people and surprising brilliant food.

.....and let's not forget the Beer and Scotch. Ah gidde' up.

That's about the best segueway I can think of as to why you are about to be inundated with pictures from Ireland. It's a truly remarkable place. If you haven't been. Go. Seriously. Don't wait until you're 30 like I did. You will love it.

If you do make it to Ireland, make sure you make it to the Cliffs Of Moher. They will blow you away.



You should also try to see the ancient monastic settlement of Clonmacnoise. The age and history of it or amazing. I don't know if you'll catch a glimpse of the reclusive/indigenous Irish stinkface, but you might get lucky.



This is Frodo. Zoom is in the picture because she's cute and for reference. Frodo is the cutest little dog I've ever seen. If you go to Roundwood house, look him up.



Ah, those wacky Irish. They start them in the fine art of international relations and hospitality at a very early age. Waterford was particularly warm and fuzzy. This made us laugh. A lot.



I told my Irish real estate broker that I was looking for a little out the way place, where I could enjoy some peace and solitude. I think she came through in fine form. I dropped a couple of quid on this beauty.




With all it's simple ways and beauty there are still a lot of the hassles of modern life and civilization in Ireland. The traffic is a real bitch. But don't worry, we didn't have a cow about it and were able to steer our way around it. Is that the manure that stinks or that pun?



Go to Roundstone. Go to the coast. It's worth the curves and driving. There's an old graveyard on the beach. Walk around and soak up the history. Then grab a pint and some garlic grilled oysters at O'Dowd's.



This is Sheridan the Magnificent. He LIVES to fetch. He's another resident of Roundwood House. He will fetch every stick you throw and carry them all in his mouth at once. This is his tough guy ready to fetch posture.



This is Kylemore Abbey. It's a nunnery/girls boarding school. It is a brilliant site. Beautiful and scenic grounds. But the best part is truly the Abbey gift shop/commissary. I had the best frigging turkey/gravey/stuffing sandwich I have ever eaten there. I purchased every one of the sandwiches they had they were so good.

I Had Me A Dream

So I'm in a shopping mall running around doing this and that with Zoom. It's the shopping mall from my childhood. It still has all the old stores and the food places it used to have. We're having fun. Nothing is really happening, but we're having fun like we do now. Just enjoying each other's knucklehead company.

When all of a sudden I run into a girl. The girl is the younger sister of one of close childhood friends. It turns out that this girl is my fiance'. She's jibber jabbering about how she's missed me and she hasn't seen me in so long and that our rings are in. Apparently we are going to be married. And soon.

So I go pick up my ring and go over to mom's house and we look at it. It's a thick gold band. The weird part is, not only do I have this wedding band, I still have the real life wedding bands that I will putting on when I marry Zoom in the real world. I then start comparing the two bands and putting them next to each other. I try to figure out what possessed me to tell anyone I wanted anything that was gold. Gold is, after all, yacky.

This then leads to this whole introspection (within the context of the dream) about marriage and my life. I keep thinking, I don't want to marry this girl. I don't even know this girl. What the hell was I thinking? I want to be with Zoom. I like Zoom. I have fun with Zoom. But, then I come back to the real world within the dream (has anyone's head exploded yet?) that I can't just stop the wedding. It's too late now. All the plans have been made. All the invitations have been sent out. All the flowers/cake/tuxedos/minstrels have been ordered and paid for. So, I fall back onto a resolve that I will marry the girl I don't know. My dream logic is that everyone's marriage blows and ends up badly, so that's what I have to face. That's just the way it is. I'll just suck it up and power through this marriage. I don't to do it, but everyone doesn't want to do it. It's just what you do when you're an adult. You get married, even though you don't want to and would rather be with someone else.

....and then I woke up.

Now, I'm a big believer in the memory flush theory of dreaming. But, I don't have the slightest issue/fear/reservation about marrying Zoom. In fact, it's the opposite. I can't wait. I want it done NOW.

So the question goes to you, my beloved internet........

WHAT'S UP WITH THAT!?

Sweet Christ It's Late

I can hear Golden Earring in my head even as we speak.

It's 2 am (it's 2 am) The fear is gone (the fear is gone) I'm sitting here waiting (sitting here waiting) The gun's still warm (the gun's still warm)

Sing it if you know it.

I just got in from the movies (we finally saw Mr. and Mrs. Smith - it's nothing more than a popcorn flick with intermittent flashes of Angelina Jolie unbelievable hotness) with Zoom and we don't have to work for the next 4 days. I had me a little 20 year old single malt scotch. I had me a little cigarette.

WOOOO-FRIGGING-HOOOO!!

Life is good.

I guess I am up contemplating that very fact. For all the moaning I do (and lately there's been a lot), I have a very very good life. Couple that good life with the next 4 days off and nothing scheduled to do during those 4 days and you see how easily I slip into philosophic jibber-jabber. I'm also up in an effort to embrace and enjoy more of this life. I want to stay up later and soak in my free time. I want to put my feet up and keep reminding myself how wonderful it is to not have to work for a while. I want to enjoy this time. I want to Jim Croce this time in a bottle I'll never lose.

I don't know about anyone else, but I hate to have plans. HATE IT! Nothing irks me more than knowing a weekend or time off is approaching and I have to do this or do that during that time. Whether it be a wedding or a bachelor party or a graduation or a tea party. Whatever. I long for the weekends when I have no plans or no duties or no obligations. The weekends where I can just sit on the couch and watch re-runs of Law & Order all weekend if I want. Sure I can pull weeds, or clean the pond, or reorganize the house, or fold laundry, or knit a sweater, but I don't HAVE TO do any of those things.

So raise your glasses to the real time off. Time to breathe in the really good life that sometimes gets forgotten. Time off to remember what matters.