double drat - know your place, shut your face!

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onanism

read a book last week. little trashy but you gotta start somewhere.

smoke stack

Human Smoke: The Beginnings of World War II, the End of Civilization
by Nicholson Baker

stalking, pray.

“Hit it there,” Tiger said, and he pointed toward the fairway. They asked him again, and Woods again refused. After a few more requests, he did step into the bunker for a photo, but even then he refused to have a golf club in his his hand, and he refused to hit a golf ball out of the bunker. He said he would not hit one out during practice either.

Why not? Because, he said, he had absolutely no intention of being in that bunker. Ever.

“Why bring negativity into your thoughts?” he asked, and nobody had a good answer for that one.

equal time

mancrush v bromance

drip-tease

think i just reached the apotheosis or nadir of bachelorhood (so hard to say which is which) as i inhaled a tranche of seedless watermelon over the tub in an unlit bathroom as the juice ran down my chins and on to my increasingly porcine form. that i was bathed in sweat and attired in boxers and flip-flops only reinforces the image. and the cherry on top, i was mindlessly humming "i am the very model of a modern major general..." which if true does not speak well of our men in uniform.

Nixylplyx

i bought a book! thought that was worth noting. now i just have to read it. and who better to review a damning appraisal of the flowering of the era of Intolerance and Divisiveness for the standard bearer of the liberal press than george f. will. congratulations, ny times. there isnt a box you cant think your way outside of.

barong place, barong time

i inadvertently found myself this evening at a planning session for a bachelor weekend id already begged out of attending. however i was particularly tickled while the relative merits of place price and prostitutes were bandied about to needle one loudmouthed participant who was time was constrained for this future baccanal by a previous engagement, that being tickets to attend a concert with his wife to see james taylor. nothing says debauch like sweet baby james.

and i wish i could do justice to the scene of taking measurements for the barongs which are the traditional filipino shirts worn at weddings and are custom fit for all. a standard tape measure wasnt precise enough for my precision minded bridegroom at these proceedings. no, what was required were two swords, one a novelty sword which collapsed in upon itself, the other wooden. however, no level was used to ensure they were not askew when placed at waist and shoulder level (although i did ruefully suggest a plumline) so the entire exercise was less than futile but not all that much less. noone was injured during this swashbucking affair but a $135 shirt was torn by a dull mind wielding a dull blade. seems the seams of said collapsible blade were sharper than the edge enough so to produce a cottonary lesion one not soon to heal. fortunately i was neither wielder nor wielded, and so this story like so many others ends happily.

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