Tuesday, December 30, 2008

The Rambling Thoughts Of A Woman Going Crazy...

I asked Carl yesterday if he could see himself at home... if he could see himself here, and his answer was "No."

I was glad he said that because I have been nervous about the fact that I cannot see him here either. I don't know if it is because he has been gone for five months, or because I know we have another seven months of separation ahead of us after this R&R, but I have been unable to close my eyes and see my husband sleeping in our bed, or eating breakfast at the kitchen table, or laughing with me or even sitting in front of me having a face to face conversation that lasts longer than 15 minutes.

Isn't that crazy?

There is nothing more I want than to have my husband here, so why is it so hard to let my heart and mind picture him here with me?

Some days I wonder if we'll survive this year... meaning, I fear that when he does come home for good we will be different. Will we be each other's best friend again? Will he want to always be with me and love only me?

The mind is a horrible enemy for the wife of a deployed husband.

How easily he has slipped from being someone I can reach out and touch to someone that I only get to talk to for minutes a day and when something happens in our lives here he may not ever even know about it. Just the other day he asked if the back window had ever been fixed. I had it fixed weeks ago but never remembered to tell him when we talked.

I try and email him everything that is happening, but so much happens and emails are so tedious that somewhere along the line our messages to each other went from lengthy love letters to quick one-liners about the day and whether or not the oil in the van was changed.

Not a moment goes by that he is not in my thoughts, but is that enough? He remarks that I do not write him enough or send enough pictures and I know that is only because he is there... away from us, but there are times when I want to say "What about me?"

How selfish is that... What about me? Five months ago I had a husband at home and I felt secure in everything we did. Today I am without him and I have had to do it all... his jobs and my jobs. But look at what he has to do. How can I ever be so selfish as to complain about my situation over his. That is hard because I really like to complain sometimes-I am a woman, I can't help it.

But if I say this is unfair, I am not being supportive.

I just want to close my eyes and see him here. I just want to go to sleep at night thinking that he is with me.

I am not going to want him to leave after this R&R and that is what is worrying me the most. How am I supposed to say good-bye again? No wife should ever have to do this. All I will have is 2 weeks to get me through the next 7 months... to get him through the next 7 months. I believe that his sanity relies a lot on me and how I handle things. If I go crazy, he will feel helpless so far away from me, and that is not good.

After 15 years of marriage I am nervous about seeing my husband.

If I am being completely honest, I would admit that my stomach clenches at that thought of having him so close to being here, and what if something happens between now and then? Is that why I can't picture him here with me? Because I am so frightened that life will throw us a curve ball that I won't be able to handle? These are thoughts that I push far from my mind and never dwell upon. 5 months is nothing in comparison to a lifetime without him... and I can't even talk about that right now.

I wish he was already here so that I did not have to worry about so many things right now. I remember the day that he left I thought that I would never feel such heartache, but having him almost here... almost with me... the thought of him being just days away from me, is proving to be the hardest yet.







.

Get ready, Safety Patrol.


I have recently been advised by the self appointed upper cerebral advisory committee that if I intend to complain about their committee allowing my 10 and 8 year old to play World of Warcraft, then I should really "check my own kitchen" for violence first, since I do in fact allow them to play webkinz and watch Star Wars, which all you online gamers know are practically the same. (Admit it Nerdsquad, sometimes you know you should be at work instead of searching for jewels for that legendary crown of wonder.) How alarming!! I had never thought that violence might invade my own kitchen. Thank goodness for this stellar observation.

WELL. Unfortunately I am not currently at home, so Neil and I did a thorough inspection of my mother's kitchen instead and HERE is our shocking report:

OH NO!

Garbage bag VIOLENCE. :o :o



BLEACH is not good tea! THAT is hazardous and inappropriate.


Need I even say more?

OH MY!

Violent Toaster- Check.


Violent gas oven? YES.

Poor Neil :(


OMG, Knife violence! THE WORST KIND!

Blood in the media = violent

So it turns out that after checking my own mother's kitchen, I found that it was a veritable DEATH TRAP of violence and inappropriateness. One might need therapy after braving such an obstacle course. I know I might. :) I shudder to think about what kinds of violence might be going on in my kitchen at home.


But the question burning my mind is this: If you die of violence in your own kitchen here in reality, does your World of Warcraft avatar suffer the same fate in their WoW simulated kitchen??? Does anyone know???




Hm..


At bootcamp, I hope that they will throw those little two-bite brownies across the gym floor for motivation, or hide them at the top of the climbing rope.   Because yum.


Is There Really Someone On The Other End Of This Computer?

Blogs... who came up with blogs? I don't know, but I am glad they did. This blog offers me an outlet for my brain. What comes out of my brain may or may not be very good, but if I kept it all bottled up inside I would walk around with a constipated look on my face and that would cause wrinkles and I make it a point to not have wrinkles (yeah, right.)

Who reads blogs? Well, my Aunt Barb reads this blog... and so does my Aunt Judi. Cousin Steve, my ma... the occasional stalker and a few other fine people. I have admitted that I do not do a lot of blog reading myself. That list on the sidebar is about all I get to a few days out of the week. Those people have become my "blog circle." Funny thing is, they probably don't even realize that they are part of a circle because I rarely comment on their blogs. If I find something funny I will usually comment for the simple fact that I like funny. I appreciate funny.

But what you may not know is that I have probably been on your blog as well. Oh yea, I am what you call a lurker. I lurk over to your blog if you leave a comment and read what you have to say... and chances are I will return, just to see how that thing with Timmy and the toilet seat worked out for you. I can't help it... I am always amazed that there may just be other people--NORMAL people--on the other side of this computer screen.

Which brings me to my point. I like the blog Threedonia for the simple fact that there are many contributors and therefore there are many opportunities for humor. The comments become a "sub-post" to the post and they are sometimes more entertaining than the original funny thought. This is where I read Wankette. She is funny, sarcastic, intelligent and irritated with the same things that I am... I think she is great.

But there is real life outside of the blogsphere and it came to my attention yesterday that a person was in need of help. A couple of weeks ago someone did something for me out of the kindness of her heart, and she simply told me to pass it on. So, when I read Wankette's story I decided to do something about it... and also to give you, my loyal, compassionate readers a chance to pass it on as well. Here is Wankette's story"

Here’s the thing: last year I injured my back in a workplace incident. It was one of those workplaces that barely-employed writers frequent in order to have things like insurance. And food. And a roof.
Anyway.

Ever since, I have been a worker’s comp captive, bound to my ex-employer’s insurance company, who has tried its best to make me go away, by delaying doctor appointment-approval and disability checks.

And in this manner, I have been pecked to death by ducks — or, more accurately, financially ruined while I await a settlement, which is still months off.

Rufus, Floyd & Chuck know about this, and have quite kindly allowed me to ask the readers here for any assistance they might offer. My temporary disability money stopped in August — it wasn’t much anyway — and all local assistance ran out months before that.
I’m facing imminent utility (gas, electricity, phone) turn-off, plus eviction, so my pride has suddenly become a non-factor.


As I told the boys, I want you to know, I’m not normally the kind of person who runs around expecting complete strangers to bail her out of everything (I’m a conservative, for goodness’ sake), but at this point, I’m fresh out of ideas.

So any helpful thoughts — write me at gutette@yahoo.com – would be appreciated, much more than you’ll ever know.
Wankette


So, to answer my own question... yes, there is someone on the other end of that computer screen and they are in need. Wouldn't it be wonderful to really recall what Christmas is about this year? Just keep Wankette in your thoughts today and if all you can do is send up a prayer or two for her... that would be wonderful. If you have any other ideas, her email is above.

Pass It On...

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Monday, December 29, 2008

Public Health Announcement



There has been an unpleasant development in this particular strain of zombie flu.  The symptom of concern seems to be uncommonly contagious, although somewhat short lived so keep your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.

I suggest that you wash your hands, people.

One Week From Today...

One week and Carl should be home for his two weeks of R&R. Can you stand it?

I have been making mental checklists of things I want to get accomplished before he arrives:

  1. Organize finances (oh crap)
  2. Organize garage (blech)
  3. Organize closet (rumor has it there is a floor to my closet)
  4. Organize the rental house spreadsheet (Carl loves spreadsheets... they turn him on.)
  5. Get rid of all People magazines and US magazines... stock the house with intelligent reads like Money and Gold Digest. (It is the little things that make him happy)
  6. Hide all granny panties. (I don't want to frighten the poor guy)
  7. Buy unmentionables that I won't mention here on this blog.
  8. Take down all Christmas decorations (he said he would help, but I know he was just saying that to "act" supportive He would much rather spend his time at home doing... other things.)
  9. Lose 10lbs (in 7 days? Not a problem.)
  10. Color my roots (What? You thought I was naturally this color? Maybe when I was 7).
  11. Shave (I'll need a few razors for this considering he has been gone for 5 months-and it is winter)
  12. Give the dog a bath (not because Carl would care, but because the dog stinks).
  13. Buy beer (and pretend they are the same ones that were in the fridge when he left.)
  14. Delete all emails from blogging readers with the subject heading "hot man" (just because).

I bet Carl's mental list looks like this:

  1. Get home.

.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Is It Over Yet...

Sooo, how has your Christmas Break been going so far? That bad eh? Mine too... oh now, it hasn't been all that bad. I can safely say that the American Economy may have taken a turn for the better because I started shopping last week and have not been able to stop. Why? I don't know... if I knew, I would stop, but since I do not know... I will continue.

Maybe I am trying to fill a void... I'm not sure.

Christmas without Carl was hard... and that is about all I want to say on that topic.

Let's move onto something else shall we? How about Christmas with my mother-in-law? That is right... I said it. My mother-in-law has been spending the Christmas holiday with us. I don't know how she found our house... I told her that we still lived in Virginia, but one day she just showed up on our doorstep with a suitcase full of cilantro and pinto beans.

Well, maybe that isn't the way it happened. It was all your fault actually, with all of your comments and niceties that made me soft. I am used to being a little more irritated and angry, but you people have made me weak and vulnerable. So stop it will you? Please, I prefer sarcasm to nice, edgy to sweet. If you can't say something that will make me more cynical, then please do not say anything at all... I'm kidding. No I'm not.

I bought my mother-in-law a plane ticket a few weeks ago so that she could spend the Holiday with us.

So that she wouldn't be alone on Christmas.

So that she could be a distraction for me and my own pity party.

So that she could play with the little people who are out of school for almost three stinkin' weeks!

So far is has been going rather smoothly... other than the fact that I have been permanently planted on the toilet. It could be because she has reintroduced my body to a diet of oil and oil, and a little lard, and the occasional dollop of poison. Did I mention oil? But that mysterious spot I had on the middle of my back has disappeared so she must be telling me the truth when she says she is a witch. Hmmm.

The kids have been doing well... if you don't pay attention to the whining, the lack of sharing and the overall greediness that Christmas has brought. Ahhh, tis the season. Maybe they are hard to handle because I am on my period... and my mother-in-law is in my kitchen... and my checkbook has run out of checks so that means that I must have run out of money... and my little sister gave me cocktail napkins for Christmas that say "Diet, another way to say Did I Eat That?"

Now I have to start thinking of New Years Resolutions. Maybe I should resolve to not resolve anything. Maybe I should resolve to gain weight... that one I could keep!

Anyway, I hope you had a wonderful Christmas. Mine was really good once the vodka kicked in... and the Benedryl too. Oh stop... the Benedryl was for my mother-in-law, not the children. The vodka was for the kids.

I just had pie.

Christmas Break Is Stupid...

Teachers get paid... I don't.


.

Two OH to the Eight.

So, two thousand and eight is pretty much over, in case you've been locked in a cellar somewhere and needed Capn' Obvious here to point it out for you. WELL, Nerdsquad. It is. So, I will do my obligatory year end maundering homily. I will paint the scene here in my mother's house for you just as it is this very minute. Hunker down, Nerdsquad. Hunker. Down.

Eleanore has just dumped her first plant onto the floor, my parents are watching 'Death at a Funeral' (which is one of the funniest movies EVER, Weirdies, I encourage you to watch it before the year is out) and I am in my pjs still. Blue and white striped cotton. Just ate a bowl of leftover turkey and sweet potatoes. I'm thinking about having some festive morning bailey's as we are in that post Christmas, Pre New Years fissure in reality where one is allowed to drink from the moment they get up in the morning. What? It's only until NEW YEARS, people. Then we can all go back to waiting until 11 am to sneak a drink. Huh? Everyone doesn't feel the same way? Bailey's doesn't really count anyway, Nerdsquad. Stop judging me.

Anyway, 2009, eh? When I was a kid it did not occur to me that the year would ever change to 2000. I remember having the surprising revelation that after 1999, there was going to be another year. ANOTHER YEAR? Surely we won't be living in such a time as TWO THOUSAND. Aliens would unquestionably come forth from the ground and hand out robotic pirate maids, because if everything remained the same as 1999, what kind of world would this even BE, Nerdsquad? I think I missed robot pirate maid day, though. Because in the year 2000, I had Elisabeth. I must have been hiding in my house as Pregnantzilla, glaring outside at those green bastards making all the noise with their noisy metal gifts. All I know is that everyone has a robot maid except me now, Dorkherd. It's highly partisan, I think. But that was AGES ago. I'm over it now.

Christmas was nice. We travelled to Alberta here to visit the fam. 'Course 5/6 of my family were barfing on the airplane/in the vehicle. But, we got here. You can tell because we contaiged(<--made that word UP) our flu to everyone in Western Canada. Now we're getting phone calls from people just 'letting us know' that they can't leave their bathrooms and they want us dead. Well they don't SAY that last part with their mouths, they punch the words in with the number pads on the phone, thinking that they're being sooOooooOo sneaky.



"Beeeeep beep beep Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep."
It's very foreboding. I'm pretty sure we should leave soon.




As I write this, my parents are trying to hatch a plan on how they can send home their 26 pound turkey with us. Maybe they could just buy it a plane ticket. Lord knows I'd need a stroller to get it through the airport. I'm not holding it on my lap on the plane, though. Neil will have to do that.

Anyhow, I've wandered astray. Back to the subject at hand, which was prattling about New Year's.

The biggest happenings for me in 2008 were winning custody of my kids, moving to Ottawa, going back to blonde, learning 2 flimsy self defense moves (well I'M flimsy, the moves might not be) and welcoming Miss Plant Terminator into my home. It' been an extremely eventful year and this is already a loooOooong post. So I've summed it all up to be efficient, Geek Parade. I won't go into further detail.


Now, Resolutions resolutions.
  • I resolve to turn 30. BoOoooo. I CAN do it, though. I will do my best not to lie to everyone and tell them I am 24. Must. Not. be. a .coug. I will look people in the face and tell them I'm 30. THIRTY. EW.
  • I'll stick it out at bootcamp. I'm not going to be out of shape if I have to resolve to be 30, damn't.
  • Keep plugging away on that novel.
  • Continue avoiding getting a physical dog. Because... Well because dogs are evil. But Libby wants one SooOOOOooooOOOOoo badly and has already named the imaginary dog. It's Shenanigans. Shenanigans the imaginary mini wiener dog. Frankly, it's getting creepy watching her take fresh air out for some fresh air. But a real dog NEEDS fresh air and I'll be the one providing it a solid 97% of the time. So. I'm torn. Maybe I could disguise the cat.
  • Find a suitcase full of money. Y'know. For novel research. It's gonna happen. I'd also accept a suitcase full of legitimate large denominational casino chips because you can totally cash those in.

Yep. So that should hold you until the urge propels me to prattle on some more about whatever pops into my head, Nerdsquad. Have a Happy new year. I'm sure I'll tell you again.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

The hairdo


Is even more smashinger the next day.

Enjoyable Winter Eve, everyone.  Tomorrow 
the kiddies open their winter presents when non denominational winter claus comes to visit.

I know they're gonna be excited.  Hope they don't mind about the economy and limited budgets and all.


Tuesday, December 23, 2008

got muh hair did.


Ta-Ding!

Got it all toned and trimmed from it's former smashing shade of meth-cook yellow with matching, attractive, Courtney Love-black roots.  Mebbe shouldn't wait so long in between colourings..?  hrm.


Now you know

Procrastination break over.

Monday, December 22, 2008

Jazzed up baby pic, installment 2


Eleanore as Imelda Marcos.


What.

Dear Western Canada,

I am sorry that we brought the zombie flu to your side of the country on the airplane the other day.   I assure you that despite my family's behavior and appearances at the time, we did not have any infected, illegal monkeys on board that we were aware of, however I may have to go through my luggage a second time to be totally sure.

So later this evening, when you are pretty sure that your insides have melted, please think of us and how I've apologized so very nicely and remember that at least 4/6 of your family are not throwing up while hurdling through the air at 30,000 feet, during which time an entire flight crew tries to murder you all with their eyes for coming on board despite the fact that you were clearly undead.

Unfortunately, I didn't see a provision in the Westjet small print for zombie travel.  Had I seen such an article, I most certainly would have made arrangements.  However, everyone knows that unfortunately, once infected with zombie germs- you really only have a few minutes before you, yourself turn into a zombie.  

So either one of the kids smuggled in a sick monkey or that security guy at the airport wasn't really checking my ears for bombs.

Anyhow,  Robert Neville will save you. I  have faith.  He's dealt with this particular flu bug before.  Buy gravol.

Once again, super sorry.

Love Us.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

It's Raining Men...

Holy Cow ladies (and Hobbit)! I have been hard at work uploading, typing, sorting, and drooling to get these photos out to you. Blogger has emailed me 17 times to tell me that I am putting too much testosterone on their system and they may not be able to support such manly endeavors, but after a couple of computer freezes, and system failure and the power going out in my house... I am happy to report that I have every last man you sent me (even for you lazy people that did not send a photo and just sent a name and made me scour the Internet looking for men). I questions some of your choices, and I am surprised that a few men were left out altogether, but this post is about YOU, for YOU and by You... so I am leaving my two cents out of it (yeah, right...)

Up first... the Husband Category.

I wonder what he has under that kilt... hmmm.

Security! Did someone call Security!!!

Look how happy he is... nothing sexier than a man with a baby in his arms.

Women love a man with intelligence...


Looks like he is going to be jumping out of something or shooting someone out of something...


Is this Daniel Craig? Hmmm, maybe his brother?


Man on beach... I bet he gazes into her eyes and reads her sonnets.


Here is another man flanked with children... so sexy, even if they are Redskins fans.



This was hands-down my favorite picture! I love a Cheeky Bloke.



Here we have the only woman surrounded by all of these men on this post. How does it feel to be sandwiched in between such raw sex appeal? Nice... very nice.



This is my husband's twin brother and my nephew. I would cry too if my mommy put me in that stupid suit. Poor buddy... Aunt Crissy would never dress you like that. I will have a talk with your mother.


I had to post this one of my brother in law as well because Carl won't be in this post seeing as these are pics that you all sent me... if one of you did send me a pic of Carl, I would have had to kick your butt, and that is a post for another time. Anyway, this pic of my BIL looks a lot like Carl, and not because they are identical twins, but this photo-the smile belongs to Carl so if I tell you that I am swooning over my husband's brother... it is only because I see Carl in him. That is my niece with her daddy... don't you just want to tickle that little belly button!

And Now... onto those other guys:

I forget who this is... but does it really matter. Hello sexy.



I should have put Vince first because he is from Chicago and he is tall and he makes me laugh. There is nothing sexier than a man that can make a woman laugh so much that she tinkles a little.


Here is one of the entries that I did not agree with all that much... Vin, you are one hot piece of man, but I am not so sure you know how to spell. We can get past that I am sure.



Mercy. Val Kilmer... Ice Man... Swoon. Thank you Mr. Kilmer for awakening my sexual being in my formidable teen years. My husband would like to shake your hand.


Okay, when I said I didn't add anyone to the list personally, I lied. I added Tom Cruise... before he was a Scientologist and jumping on Oprah's couch. It's the flight suit... I just couldn't help it.

Hello Toby. You look like such a nice guy, I bet you like puppies and long walks... and I bet you enjoy shopping with you wife too. What a guy!

Tim McGraw. With the hat on... hot-very hot! With the hat off... bald-very bald, but as Vin up there showed us, bald is beautiful baby.

John Cena-look at your arms! I can't help but hum the tune to Popeye the Sailor right now. Lord have mercy.

Speaking of arms... made of Rock! My mother once told me that she didn't like men with muscles because she didn't think it would be comfortable being hugged by a man with biceps the size of Rhode Island... she prefers the soft chubby type I suppose. My dad quit being a body builder for that reason alone.

I forget this guys name, but he is obviously a tennis player and I think he is foreign. If he were "Merican, I would have remembered his name because is would be something like Bill Smith, and not something-sovavich.



Sting. Hot. Tantric. Swoon.



Hello Mr. Baker... how are you? Would you like to gaze into my eyes and run away with me? Okay... I'll get my overnight bag. Let me call a babysitter too.


I forget this guys name too... I know, I am horrible, but do we really need to know their names? No...just look at the pictures ladies. Just look at the pictures.

This is the lead singer of Creed, which proves the point that if you can sing or play the guitar or drums, you are hot... even if you are ugly, you are hot.


"THUD" That was me falling off of my chair. MMMMM Ryan, you had me at your six-pack. My cousin-in-law Shanie sent me this... my little sister Claire will be licking her computer screen when she sees it.


I don't know who you are Rupert, but I like you... I like you a lot!

I was waiting for one of you to send me this hot man from Lipstick Jungle... I would put lipstick on his ju.... oh, never mind!


I think we should all go out and rent Top Gun tonight because all of the men made it in here... except for Goose. Poor Goose, he didn't even take his shirt off at the volleyball scene, but Rick here, he had his shirt off and I decided to not go to the nunery right after watching that movie. Phew!


Lord Have Mercy. Let me just pull these up for you a bit... or just leave them the way they are. Thank you.



MMMMcDreamy. Let's all just look at him for a moment shall we. Nice, very nice. I love the grey in his scruff... those blue eyes... his regal nose.... that floppy hair. Swoon.


This guys plays some sort of sport. My husband would know, but I don't really care. He is hot.

OH MY GAWD!!! I love tall, dark, smoldering, mysterious, exotic... Oded Fehr, I even like saying your name. Don't look at me like that Oded, I'll never get anything done today.

Who wouldn't want to be Lost with him?



Oh Mr. Dracy, which are you Pride or Prejudice? I could never figure that one out... but I love you. I honestly do.

Oh Mr. Darcy... I can't decide which of you I prefer. Such hard decisions. I think I'll keep you both. Matthew MacFayden is on my top 10 list. Sa-Woon!

I can't seem to remember this guys name. I hope he keeps his mouth shut-that was the agreement he and I made so that he could be on this blog. He is still easy on the eyes, I must give him that.

How Youuuuu doin' Joey, Joey, Joey, a male slut was never sexier.

Hot man-check, big muscles-check, angry scowl-check, casually holding a gun as if you rule the world-check. Mark Wahlberg will forever have my devotions... I just can't help it. I love a man who is arrogant, egotistical and makes no apologies for himself... swoon. Say hello to you mother for me.

I am posting this only because you asked for it. I am doing it against my better judgement... but what my readers want, my readers get... so here you go-Mario Lopez. He's a mama's boy. Don't marry him ladies, he comes with baggage and that baggage is called MOTHER!


Oh my word. I have watched you go from a boy to a man Leo and I like everything that I see. Damn hot... damn damn damn hot.


Here's another one... hat on-hot, hat off-bald. But that is Okay, who is paying attention to his bald head when you have to get past the fact that he is shorter than you and probably weighs less as well... but he lives on the beach so SCORE!
Oh JT. I was not sure about this nomination, but after I saw this photo I changed my mind. Thank you for being patient with me and waiting for me to love you JT. You had me with the guitar... my my my.

Okay, I realize I should have posted this man at the very tip tip top of this blog since apparently 99% of you watch Lost and would gladly have this man's babies. Josh Halloway, do you realize how loved you are? I wonder... I also think I may need to go to the video store and rent all of the previous seasons of Lost to catch myself up on this guy. What have I been missing!!


I think I just felt my uterus scream out in desire. I had a GREAT pic of Josh here naked as a jay-bird, but the rules said I could not post it... so I just saved it to my hard drive. Look at how dirty he is... I think he needs a bath, a bubble bath.

This one comes from my cousin-in-law as well, and I have to agree. Hello John, please don't look at me like that or I may just have to do a strip tease for you... you sarcy git.

Johnny, my Johnny... even though I think you need to clean behind your ears, I would not kick you out of bed. That's right. I'd just wash the sheets when you left.

Here's aonther man that makes no apologies... and that is HOT! Has anyone seen the movie "Crank?" Enough said.
Jason Shane Scott... soap star. He knows drama... and he knows sexy.


Lets all be silent for a moment and pretend that we are the towel... be the towel, know the towel... remove the towel. hehe.

Men in Trees... lets just pick this one. He looks ripe
.


Captain Jack Sparrow... you can board my ship and pilage all you want.


Hugh, People's sexiest man alive... June Cleaver's Swoon-worth 2008. He is having a FABULOUS year!

Harry, you sing, you act, you look good just sitting there. Your talents amaze me.


Killing two birds with one stone. Hello Bond... James Bond, Hello Mr. Jones-Indiana Jones. Men of substance-very nice.

Stay right there... let me go get my whip.

Oh Lord, I need to go breathe into a paper bag...


Okay... I'll run away with you and have you babies. I surrender.


In my next life I want to come back as a young waitress so that George Clooney will date me. No need to thank me Mrs. Firefly for this photog, thank George.

George Snufalupagus... we all have our fantasies don't we? I don't question, I just post em.

Ewan, mind if I take a peek... inquiring minds want to know.
Clean cut-check. Innocent-check. Swoon worthy? Maybe in 5 years. Sorry. I had to speak up.


Eduardo Verastegui, please don't look at me like that, I can't leave my husband for you... no matter how many times you ask me to with those smoldering eyes and those luscious lips. I will always say no. Ask me one more time...


Dennis Quaid... how do you do it? How do you have the body of a 25 year old? I want to know... but please don't tell me you only eat fish and cottage cheese and work out 8 hours a day, you'll ruin it for me. Let's just pretend that God has blessed you with those abs for us women to swoon over.


Becks... no matter how skinny your wife is, I still believe that you like girls with a little meat on their bones. Right? RIGHT?


David, I dont care if you are addicted to sex... you are so tall that I will overlook all of the negatives about your persona. Just don't speak... let us look at you.

David Boreanaz... let me help you unbotton the rest of your shirt, and then take it off. Phew.


Daughtry-look at the way he holds that microphone. Lucky microphone.

There you are! I was wondering when I would see you again... although I must admit that I like to see you with less clothing on, but I'll take the white shirt, boiling hot on you as well. Craig David, you had me at Bond... James Bond.


Look at that smile. Couldn't you just curl up on a couch with him and spend the rest of your life happy in that smile. Lordy.


Clive, don't be so angry. It is Okay... you will be able to beat those guys up that you don't like for my honor-really. I didn't mean to make you jealous-I promise. I know how you don't like to be jealous and you will rip the head off of any man that makes a move on your woman. Have mercy.

Clint Eastwood, one mean son-of-a-bitch. Hot... at any age.

So young... so hot. Imagine how hot he will be when he finishes puberty! I can't wait!


Do you know that when I went searching for a photo of Cary Grant, he was the easiest to find a naked pic of? Not that I was searching for naked pics of these men, but Cary Grant's naked pic was just there, staring back at me. Go google Cary Grant and click on the images... you'll see what I am talking about. You are welcome.


Oh Brian... tackle me! Please!


I know, I know... Brad Pitt left his cute little wife for a homewrecker like Jolie... but look at him in Fight Club. Hello tough guy... how you doin'

Yes, yes, yes, he is a louse that left normal for kinky... but he is so nice to look at. Let's at least give him that. His poor mother.

I'm sorry, what was I don't here? I can't seem to remember my own name... Antonio, you make my stomach all warm and gooey. Latin lovers are so passionate... I know this because my husband has Latin blood pulsing through his veins. Is it hot in here? I need to go take a shower...


Andrew Younghusband... I don't know who you are, but apparently someone, somewhere thinks you are swoon-worthy, and I am not about to questions another woman's swooning abilities.

Adam Arkin? Okay...

John Corbet... or as I like to refer to him as, Aiden. Why did you let Carrie leave? You would have been so good together. I am glad that you eventually found your happiness, but I really wanted you with Carrie... I really did!

Robert Redford, Paul Newman. Hello boys. Come on in... have a seat. May I sit on your lap? Thank you.

Hugh Laurie... why do you not speak in your native tongue? The American accent you do is very nice, but I prefer you as a Brit.
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And that is it... Enjoy ladies! Don't forget that you have children that you have to take care of today and a husband that needs dinner on the table. Wait... forget what I just said. There are no children and no husbands-look at the pictures again and swoon for a little while longer. Real life will take over soon enough~
Merry Christmas!