Hot Stuff!

My friend, Della has finally entered the realm of publishing with her first erotic and oh-so-steamy novella, "Into the Flame."

Now, I've never been much for the whole books-as-porn thing, but Della goes beyone that stereotype and manages to interweave a wonderful story in between some scorching love scenes that are hot enough to melt the keys off of yer keyboard.

So, if you're even a bit curious about "Erotic" stories, click on the picture below and check out "Into the Flame" by "Jade Morrison."

It's a scorcher!

                                               

MIA? Me? Nahhhhh....

I haven't posted anything in a coon's age so I thought I'd hop on here to let you know what's been happening with me in the past week.

1.  I had my teeth bleached professionally.  Not only am I $600 lighter and the new owner of day-glo teeth but I also get to experience "zingers" - sharp pains that course through my teeth at random intervals.  Yes. I paid for this torture.  Happily. Because when I replace my chiclet cap on my front tooth - my teeth will match.  Whoo hoo!

2.  Harry was gone this week. Leaving me to man the house.  Needless to say I didn't do crap.  He came home tonight and wanted to go out to dinner.  BBQ, of course, so we ate like two little piggies and then, out of the blue Harry commands "DANCE!" .  I'm a good lil' wife and a glutton for punishment so I start a nifty jig in my leather booth seat. The waitress appears and gives me a sideways glance as she drops the ticket and runs.  Harry laughs.  He did it on purpose.  He's evil.   When he sleeps tonight I shall convince Phoebe that his foot is a remote control.   Muah ha ha.

3.  Since he had been home all of two hours when his "Guitar Hero" buddies called, wanting rematches, I didn't think he'd actually be compelled to go.   "Can I?"  he asked eagerly, holding the phone away from his red ear.  "Well," I said coyly, "sure.  But ya know you could always stay and, well, ya know..."  I not so-subtly hinted.  Cartoon clouds of dust appeared as he high-tailed it out the front door and toward the splendor of Xbox 360.  Sigh.  Oh  well.  Romance, I guess, has been killed. A big, glowing green X over each of her eyes as I sit and watch Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire while folding piles of orange and red man panties.  

4.  I read a book that was submitted to VoiceboxX for a review.  I really wish I hadn't.  And I wish I didn't have such a death grip on the old saying "If you can't say something nice..."

5.  I have an uncontrollable need to buy Avril Lavigne's new cd.  I need help.

And with that, rather unfortunate note, I leave you with some words of wisdom from Ms. Avril:

"No, no, no I don't like your girlfriend."  Wow - it's like Shakespeare reborn - with eyeliner and pink skull socks.   Yet, I must have it....

 

 

 

 

I Concede.

Maybe ya'all were right about my cat.

She does seem a bit, well, hostile, as of late.

Especially when I'm trying to read or watch tv...

Well, after four days of bickering, tears, and near bludgeoning (poor Harry) - I finally found a non-gas-guzzling SUV that I could actually drive without going into withdrawl.  Yup - we did it again - we traded off my Envoy Denali for a Pontiac GXP.

It's black and has large red gauges that measure your speed up to 160mph. Now - this is where living in WV kinda sucks (ya know, OTHER than the fashionista BLACK HOLE capital of the world) because, hypothetically speaking, should I be able to get up close to this proposed 160mph speed - I'm likely going to run into a pesky moutain or hillside. 

Right, Harry?  (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, crash, bang!)

Everyone have a wonderful weekend and - should you happen to be visiting WV  - please ignore any erratically driving Pontiacs that may be flying past you on the interstate.

That's just me.

Trying to break the sound barrier.

Update:  Apparently the above pic is not exactly my car.  I Googled it.  This picture came up. That's about as far as my techno savvy goes.  And, I guess, my power of observation.  So, according to Harry - I don't know my own car.

"And - you posted a picture of a two door" he says and chuckles at his own unabashed cleverness.

He better steer clear of the driveway.

That speedometer still registers at 160.  I'm pretty sure that it'll work in "Reverse" too - Zooom!  Scrreeeech!  Bang!  ahahahahah

Update #2:  "Heh, heh, heh.  Ya know - Reverse only has one gear," Harry points out.

Grr.  

Grr.

Grr.

Easter Eggs, Bubbles and The Big "O"

After a mirth-filled day in good ol' Branchland where the many lil'uns hunted eggs while wearing felt bunny ears and opened cellophane baskets containing toys and then used those toys to turn their favorite aunt into a bubble-stuff sticky blob, Harry and I met his grandmother at the local Olive Garden.

Now, before I get the big long list of e-mails where everyone tells me how horrific and un-Italiana the big "O" is - lemmie just explain something:  My husband will not eat anything unless it is of four major food groups:  bread, potato, meat and, of course, sugar.  Since he's recently discovered pasta (and added a sixth food group to his stunted list) we've become regulars at the O Garden.  So it was only natural for us to meet his granny there for a little late Easter dinner.

We sat at our table and I immediately seized up.  Sweat beads appeared on my forehead, my freckles popped out, my eyes buldged because the table behind us had a man, a woman and two very rowdy kids seated at (and around) it.  The woman and the man ate, drank their large bottle of wine and seemed to be oblivious to the fact that their hellspawn were tripping waiters with pushbrooms, sneezing on clean tables and basically wreaking havoc.  I stared at the blonde woman as she emptied her glass and tried to communicate with her non-verbally, letting her know that she should, I dunno , parent her damn children. 

She ignored me and readjusted her napkin on her tacky pink and grey adidas track suit, circa 1995. 

Trying to carry on a conversation with Harry's older grandmother while the young boy, seven or eight years of age, yelled at every waiter that crossed his path is not an easy thing to do.  Especially when she starts nodding and you have no idea why... 

"Is this McDonald's? Are we in the Playplace by mistake?" I asked Harry as he stared at the couple who continued to slurp pasta while their two kids ran all over the restaurant. 

"I'm ready to yell at them," he said to me.

"Don't let me stop you," I said, half-hoping he'd stand up and dump his garlic-cream sauce over the head of the supposed father-figure.

Just when I could take no more of the screams, cries and catterwalling of the wilderbeast children, the foursome stood to leave.  Harry burst into laughter - sniggering hartily into his balled fist.

"What?"  I asked.

"The kid, he just ran face-first into the pillar!" 

And, of course, the parents didn't notice. 

Why bother having children if you aren't going to be parents to them?  Why not just have a dog or a cat?  Or, better yet, a beta fish?  You can't kill those things?  Unless you get a suicidal one like my sister.  But I think she talked it to death...

Well, Happy Easter!

 

"My Humps"

I'm sure ya'all have seen this by now, but this parody of Fergie's "My Humps" by Alanis is too funny!

 

See? She's cute and stuff!

Since many of you seem to think that Phoebe looked a tad Evil in my last picture of her, here's one to show you how she really looks... right before she attacks your head...

                   

Wow. I'm LA-ZY!

It's 3:44pm and I've only been outta bed for a mere three hours - and that's actually pushing it considering I actually only got up to make a ham sandwich and then roll back under the warm electric blanket.  Eventually, I moseyed up the stairs and made it to my computer.  But only with the aid of a space heater to warm me -it's freezing!  What the heck happened to the warm weather?

I'm feeling very unmotivated today. Don't wanna clean.  Don't wanna write.  Don't wanna listen to music.  Don't wanna watch tv.  Curl up and go back to sleep? Don't mind if I do...

But, on a lighter note, my sister, she of the fast-moving lips has just risen above her "scratch and dent" marriage and has signed a purchase agreement to buy the cutest little house a few miles from mine!  It's permanent now - she's staying - at least for a bit and that, if nothing else, is making me happy.  

I was determined yesterday to buy a housewarming gift for  her so I went to Lowe's with the mindset of buying her a Rosemary tree - they're so cute and look like mini-xmas trees - but they had none.  Then, while my pants from last season insisted on creeping up my nether-regions, I spotted it:  a tiny potted plant with thick fronds. 

It was a pineapple plant and it was only $15.  Grabbing it despite Harry's bewildered look, I plopped it on the cashier's stand and proceeded to speak to the slightly cracked-out looking salesman about the novelty plant for a good ten minutes before we toted the plant to the car.

After touring the new little house of Summer, I put the plant in her driver's side seat and drove off. 

I called her later: "Did you get my gift?" I asked, trying not to giggle.

"Yes!Brianalmostsatonit!"  she said.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes!" she said, "Whatisit?"  I paused.  I would've thought that the tiny pineapple perched within the fronds would've given her SOME kind of clue as to what it was but, this IS my sister we're talking about...

"It's a pineapple plant," I said.

"OH! Iloveit!"

I'm sure it'll be dead within a week, but it's the thought that counts, right?

Okay, well I'm off in search of my motivation... and maybe a cheeseball...