Word Whore

Normally I make it a point NOT to cross the streams, keeping the things I write for other people a considerable distance away from my personal ramblings- but today we have an exception. Never you mind that my lack of imagination and inability to put together a coherent paragraph caused a dramatic lull in performance. This blurb actually contains one personal anecdote and at least two references to a celebrity.

So there.

http://www.culturebrats.com/2012/08/tom-hardy-and-bang-bang-chicken-both.html

 

Fully understanding that it takes an extra step to click this link (a step, if I’m being honest here- that I wouldn’t take) I leave you in the capable hands of Culture Brats and all their greatness.

It’s Like Butter

I love you. Please find your way back to me!

I’ve just been bit in the aft end with the realization that my morning bore a stark and terrifying resemblance to my weekends in college where I woke up in  a haze, was missing my phone and couldn’t find my underwear so was forced to pull on my jeans and go commando before stumbling out the door.

In the Hollywood version of this story, I would have stepped back into my dorm room and awoken my roommate, played by 80′s sweetheart Molly Ringwald, and had her help me piece my evening back together to ascertain whether I had done something John Hughes worthy during the night.

Truth is I spent the morning throwing  together a hodge podge collection of  half destroyed clothing from the dirty laundry hamper crying about the loss of my Iphone and wondering if someone threw out all my undergarments.

Many things are  happening this Monday one of which is this little gem over at 20Prospect. If you’ve ever wondered what type of unhinged perversion and off kilter maniacs that the stifling repression of Catholic education produces take a look at each and every one of my friends and now my own kids. Listen to this classic I got hit with last night.

Daughter: Mom, do your private parts burn off if you have sex before marriage?

Mother: Wow, where did you hear that? (stifling laughter)

Daughter: Well, the Catholic church teaches no sex before marriage so does that mean that they burn off?

Mother: You bet they do. I heard it REALLY hurts.

SCORE!

Catholic school, turning out warped and misinformed children since the dawn of time.

Anyway, moving on.

My strategy this morning is to point you in the direction of things happening elsewhere so here is the second half of my talk with THE Corey Feldman at Culture Brats.  Props to the dedicated and talented Archphoenix who did all the work and probably should be handed some sort of award for patience, since my interviewing and editing skills could probably use some polishing.

Now I’m off to work on yet another revision of what was a bit about three clubs in the U Street corridor that fell flat and was then nearly done for when a series of three murders closed off the street for the better part of three weeks wrapping the subject of my piece in perpetual police crime tape.

Try to enjoy your Monday.

Beautiful missing Iphone photo courtesy of AppleInsider

Friday

This morning I feel foul.

Or like my husband put it “I feel like I was poisoned.”

Contrary to what you might think we were not out last night drinking with wild abandon at the 9:30 club. As a matter of fact we had as  much soda as we did beer.

It was the late hour coupled with a long week, topped off with a 2:30 a.m. kitchen raid that had us both eating pizza that should never have even been up for consideration.

So I had a thousand things to tell you about, like the fact that someone let me near a celebrity without a police escort and a muzzle and this was the result.

I wept openly about the death of Bob Guccione and his contribution to society and tried desperately to finish a post about three DC clubs.

All of this will have to wait for next week though as I am wolfing down soda and M & M ’s in a desperate attempt to mak it to the weekend!
Enjoy!!!

These are the Dave’s I Know

Today is not going well. 

I should have known things were going to start swirling down the bowl when typing out my blog name I wrote Dud man Ho instead of Dufmanno. 

Get it? 

I’m a dud, and a man ho.
ha. 

 Then I wrote a post over at Culture Brats and I started to feel better. 

They are like the friend with the Wondertwin powers  that you activate by touching matching rings and taking the shape of a really awesome creature or form of matter (SHAPE OF….AN EAGLE) except you don’t have to wear the matching purple body suits or own a space monkey. 

Right after I finished that up, my friend Vapid asked me to make a super list of fictional characters I’d like to have relations with. 

 Because I’m Catholic, I have to pretend that my husband has died and I’ve been given a get out of hell free card from the Church and a note from my now deceased husband indicating that I’m invoking the “free pass” rule. Usually spouses give each other this “pass” in extreme circumstances. 

For example. 

If my husband is in a shipwreck and is one of only two survivors on a desert island and the other person is Cindy Crawford then he is totally allowed to have sex with her. 

If I am walking down the street and the reunited members of the Police pull up in the tour bus, throw open the doors and summon me inside, I am allowed to remain there for at LEAST two days with no questions asked. 

Understand? 

With no further ado, here is my list. 

Number 5 

Gary Oldman from Romeo Is Bleeding. 

Yes, Gary Oldman. Anything you say.

What is it about Gary Oldman? He’s wildly appealing in that dangerous off kilter way that I REALLY like. If you’ve never seen his mind-boggling scenes with Lena Olin in this film, do yourself a favor and rent it. You WON’T be disappointed. 

Number 4 

Lloyd Dobler in Say Anything.  

Joe Lies.

 Okay, I know he’s just a lovable dork and there is nothing steamy about this but how can you NOT love the guy who stands in front of your house with his gun-metal grey boom box blaring In Your Eyes? 

Number 3 

Harrison Ford in Presumed Innocent. 

I've got a bad feeling about this.

I know he’s fucking old as dirt now but I really like him in this one. He seems virtually incapable of resisting Greta Scacchi and that scene on the desk in the office doesn’t hurt either. Also, um he was Han Solo and Indiana Jones for Christ’s sake! 

Number 2 A TIE 

Okay, hard to fathom that I'm looking at young Peter Gallagher here.

Threesomes, yay!

That’s right people it’s a tie between the threesome in the 1982 classic Summer Lovers (Darryl Hannah, Peter Gallagher and Valerie Quinnessen the french chick no one ever heard from again) and the threesome in The Dreamers (sultry but scandalously young-looking Michael Pitt, Eva Green & Louis Garrell). This one needs no explanation. Threesome people! 

Number 1 

You know it couldn’t be any other way. The fictional Kyle Reese from the Terminator played to sexually explosive perfection by thinking man’s action hero, Michael Biehn. 

Hey, can you pump the rifle again for kicks?

I’m hot. I’m naked. I came across time for you. I’ve never had sex  before. I’m madly in love with you. Watch me pump this shotgun. 

And whoops, next thing you know you’re pregnant with mankind’s last hope. 

So there you have it.

Hanging It Up

Things that amuse me in the spare time I don't really have. Boys room 5/10/2010

Today I’m annoyed at my blog.
So I’m packing up all my shit and hightailing it over to Culture Brats to soak up the pop culture cool.
Today they are Blane and I am Duckie.

Except, they don’t have a sidekick named Steff with a withering sneer and bedroom eyes. Thank you James Spader.

Most of all I love Culture Brats because they get me.

Here I am crying about missing the Police reunion tour again.

Culture Brats Rocks

Doblers take Manhattan

Guess what?

I became a Culture Brat.

This site has everything pop culture related from the 80′s on and I can say with true sincerity while wearing my Police t-shirt, that it is like coming home.

Big hair, great music, they even have pieces on Boy George and popped collars.

God help me.

http://www.culturebrats.com/2010/04/ode-to-kyle-reese.html