Sunday, September 16, 2007

With a Bullet

I have three or four posts swimming around in my brain whose points are blurring as the days go by. It is clear that most of them will never see the light of day unless I condense them for you here:



-I'm not sure what it is about this photo that so mesmerizes me. Yeah, the guy's a hottie, but a little grungy for my taste (especially after seeing him with his band, all very Black Crowes (Note to Sandi, you might want to investigate this)). But every time I see it in a magazine, it causes me to pause and contemplate his brand of attractiveness.

-The two-year anniversary of our arrival in Germany was last week. It's the week of 9/11 which is a good reminder, when I start getting philosophical about the passage of time and hardship and transition and anniversaries, to get some perspective and feel grateful.

-It's a good thing I have no time to focus on such things, or Jessica Simpson would have a letter in her mailbox (or on this blog, at least) addressing her father's disturbing morph into, well, Jessica herself. He used the royal "We" when addressing a question about a porn-star movie role offered to his little girl:
"We were promised we would win an Oscar with that," says [Joe]Simpson, 49. "I was like, 'Eh, we'll just buy a [statue of a] little man and keep our clothes on.' "
Jess, he already broke up one marriage and "managed" your sister into a lip-synch hoedown on SNL. Maybe it's time to grow up and get far, far away from your dad who seems much too focused on his daughter's sex appeal (eeew), despite the fact that They turned down the naked role. Which is fortunate for all of us, because, well, Joe Simpson, naked? (Are you following my train of thought? Me neither.)

-We watched a lot of golf this weekend, especially the Solheim Cup (women's version of the Ryder Cup for those of you who know what that means). Why do American women, even highly skilled, professional, competitive women, revert to tattooing little flags on their cheeks and wearing matching red, white and blue scrunchies in their hair when they join other women in a cause? I can ridicule this because I was in a sorority and I used to spend my Sunday afternoons puffy painting Greek letters on plastic tumblers instead of completing my Philosophy papers. I know, at least they behave themselves on the course, unlike the men who get all testosterone-y (the San Francisco? treat)and lose all decorum. But good grief, apparently estrogen + team pride = friendship bracelets. Unless you are European, where you don't have friendship bracelets, or scrunchies, just Annika Sorenstam.

-Emmy Awards tonight. I will not be staying up until the wee hours to watch them live, but I plan to view the replay tomorrow evening. I haven't seen any of the nominated shows, of course (except, good gravy, is ER still on the air?), but isn't it all about the fashion anyway?

-Someone just found my blog by searching "shaun cassidy in leather pants" and really, that's why I started this thing in the first place.

1 comment:

Veronica Mitchell said...

Mr Grunge leaves me cold. He needs a haircut, body hair and an extra thirty pounds.

But I'm sure he's a very nice person.

Unlike Joe Simpson who is either waaay too involved in his daughter's life or is the world's slowest learner at speaking to the media.