Hi there. Lots of problems with work and the ‘ol puter today. Because of these national tragedies you will be subjected to afternoon boobs. Or as Rosetta used to call it, BBF.
I’ve spoiled you rotten.
Today’s song comes to us from a group out of Baltimore that I really like…Beach House. I’ve heard it referred to as dream pop, which is sorta perfect. GND and I have seen them a few times and have tickets for an upcoming show in Asheville. You’ll all say it sucks, but that’s ok. It’s not like I’m preparing to ban all of you people, burn the blog down, then salt the interweb where it once lived. Nope. Not at all.
This week’s model is super hot and worth the wait. She’s from one of those backwater countries that has a flag with a bunch of shit on it rather than just a few stripes and some stars. Please stop staring in confusion at Donald Trump’s hair and welcome Lucia Javorcekova!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!arandom1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Good morning, and welcome to another edition of Hunky Hump Day. This week’s theme is the movie “The Man from U.N.C.L.E.” Haven’t seen it yet, but I plan to.
This is from the soundtrack.
Starring Henry Cavill.
Looks like Chumpo’s poat got misplaced so imma gonna fill in. ( I see the pictures all there in the media folder though …)
Today – on display – is a sampling of lefty mindset on facebook. Here are their “arguments”. Basically there is no discussion. Instead they post stupid memes that apparently are supposed to shut us up with ‘their truth to power’.
Here are a few which have appeared:
It doesn’t help to argue with any of the “facts” on any of these memes.
You’ll just get a text on your phone from saying “Please do not discuss things on my facebook posts”.
Okay, maybe a paragraph too. Today begins week 5 at the new jorb. It’s okay. I’m still not sure if I’m a perfect fit for it, but I can’t put my finger on why. I don’t know if it’s just too big a change from the old job and industry, or if it’s the huge shift in the academic rigor of the task and the people I’m working with, or it’s the desk in an office with 4 other people a half hour drive from my fortress of solitude. It’s probably just that last thing, but I can’t be sure. We’ll see how the week plays out.
Big pink ball self >>> duck-face selfie.
There was a time when both men and women regularly wore hats. As a kid I remember some older men wearing hats but over the years they’ve faded away. I didn’t play baseball as a kid and I sure as hell would have looked like a tool walking around with a football helmet on so I wore bandanas when I worked in the yard, hiked and went running. After I discovered that there were hat sizes courtesy of the US Army I was finally able to buy a fitted Red Sox cap which I promptly lost in a topless Jeep on 495 heading back from Cape Cod.
Probably the only hats I see nowadays are the ubiquitous baseball hat and, in the winter, stocking caps for warmth. Folks in the Midwest and Texas are used to seeing people wearing cowboy hats. In New England, if you wear a cowboy hat and are not riding a horse (or Mare) at the same time, you are a douche.
The whole reason I’m thinking of hats is an image I saw while surfing the internet. It is Lena Olin, kneeling over a mirror wearing lingerie and a man’s hat. It is from a scene in a movie based on the book “The Unbearable Lightness of Being“. I read the book on the recommendation of a girl who gave me a great hummer after I broke off my engagement with another girl. I figured it was the least I could do. Anyway, I totally forget what the book is about but remember it was an okay read.
This image ended up on the wall in the men’s room at a bar called Ralph’s in Worcester, MA along with hundreds of other random clippings from magazines that were used for wallpaper by someone who liked decorating bathrooms. Someone had written, with ballpoint pen, “I fucked her titz (sic)” and signed it Fitz. During the 10 years I lived in that town I’d say I went to Ralph’s about 100 times and drank between 200-300 pints of beer there. Over that time the IfuckedhertitzFitz girl greeted me every time I drained my bladder. Who knows, maybe she still greets drunkards to this day.