Wednesday, February 13, 2013

FULL DISCLOSURE: Top Ten Mature Hotties


Crackie from last summer, looking hot, sigh.  I'm sure he wouldn't mind his picture up.

OK, I'm on a rant about older men and women looking hot and stayin' chilly these days.  Crackie is one.  But there are more. 

*Here's my TOP TEN MATURE HOTTIES LIST

*Note: the following are not only HOT, but they're super kewl, too.

1. Katey Sagall and Kurt Sutter
2. Chris Cornell
3. Jeff Bridges
4. John Corbett and his pal, Bo Derek
5. Susan Sarandon
6. James Hetfield
7. Chrissy Hines
8. Iggy Pop
9. Anthony Kietis
10. Patti Smith

Yup, they're all pretty kewl to me.  Thanks for being an inspiration.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Amusing Dreams, Mountains and Winter Doldrums


I wish I were back here.  The Crazies of Montana, just chillin' with Dooder.  I don't even care that it'd be windy and snowy and probably outrageously cold.

We're in this weird winter pattern in the Black Hills, again, where it's not really winter, but it's not spring either.  Drought everywhere.

Anyway, had a good day yesterday, working late into the novel and seeing a few edits that I hadn't seen before.

So, I had a jumbo cocktail then went to bed exhausted and had the weirdest, WEIRDEST dreams.  As in, I was having Elvis's baby.  And it wasn't even fat Elvis, but hot Elvis.  How strange.  I remember he didn't seem to be sexually into me, seeings as I was nine months preggo.  But hey, I was with Elvis!

Then I dreamed I was camping in a camper-cabin with Brad Pitt.  We were sharing the bottom bunk, and above us was his ex, Jennifer Aniston and her boyfriend.  I kept thinking, "Brad is so hot.  But when's psycho Angelina going to come around and start a hair pulling contest??"

Luckily, she never showed up.

So what's new?

Crackie came by last Saturday.  I knew he'd be in town, so I wore my good jeans and a tight top.  His eyes about bulged outta his head, and he kept saying, "Wow, you look great!"  When I was bent over the dryer and unloading some clothes, I caught him taking inventory of my can as he said, "That cross country skiing is really paying off for you."

And when he left (he was only in town to go to Sam's and get groceries), he gave me a big kiss on the cheek and a delightful hug.  As usual, he was stunningly attractive, in his ruggedly George Clooney kind of way.  We even made plans for spring break, but I have no allusions.

We're just friends.  Nothing wrong with that.  Might as well have a hunky, hot, intelligent friend.

What else is new?  I have a new role model.  Katy Sagall.  I love her on Sons of Anarchy.

AND, get this.  She's married to the show's producer, Kurt Sutter, writer/director/and the guy who plays the old club member in prison who used to be married to Luanne.  Yes, that super, ultra hottie.

Did you know this?  She's 59, and he's 46. 

You go, Katey.  My new hero.  She's cool, edgy, cutting edge, smart, funny and gorgeous.

When is Hollywood EVER going to realize that women are not at their pinnacle in ANYTHING, let alone looks, when they're young.  I find older women, especially those who keep themselves up, to be incredibly hot.  I'm not sure what it is.  Wisdom and a few laugh lines?  The FUCK YOU attitude?

Take care of yourself.  Grow wise.

The best years are yet to come.

Friday, January 25, 2013

Nerds, Publication and other Needy Women

Ahoy mates!

Me, a few years ago, and I still have that hat, that pin, those shoes.  Not much changes on me.  I even have the same sparse wrinkles.

So what's new?  There's a new/old nerd writing me.  I used to know him from the old Myspace days.  But I thought his picture was totally gay, gay is in gay, as in, "Are you gay and don't know it?"  I've met a few of those in my time, but that's usually due to me being more masculine than most men, so whatever.  And well, he was dorky.  Not dorky as in, Jim Halpert from The Office, 'cause that character was Geik-Sheik.  This guy, whom I'll just name Dork, is simply dorky, polo shirt, preppy clothes,  you name it, yawn.

BUT, he's a Gemini, plus!  He's well educated like me, plus!  And he loves the silver screen and is a totally foodie, plus.  He even has a Harley.

BUT, I could bench press him with one arm.  He's not tiny, but I'm used to Big and Cactus Man, big manly 6'4" men.

Meh, but that never worked out so well for me.  So we'll see.

Other news:
The novel's last ten thousandth revision is in, and my students are like, "WHY ARE YOU NOT SENDING IT OUT ALREADY?"  Including my colleagues who say, "It's time."

I have that answer already: fear.

Fear of the same thing happening as last time.  I get all the way TO THE TOP EDITORS, then get shot down on some stupidly small thing.  Like, "We already had a midwesterner makes good theme last season, so we don't need that kind right now, even though Neumann is really good."

Kind of like my fear of men.  Which leads me to another rant about women-friends.

So CC, my one friend in the hood blew me off last Monday.  We were supposed to exchange Christmas presents, but she is so GLUED to the side of her husband, she can't do anything or be without him for more than fifteen minutes.  Sickening.  Totally disappeared into him years ago.  Ironically, except for when he was in Iraq, then suddenly she had all the time in the world to hang out and would get annoyed when I wouldn't call her back right away.

Oh, the irony of needy women.  The irony.  So I might donate her present to Boys Club.  I'm not mad or jaded.  Just done.

When you get my age, you stop the bullshit.  You may NOT call anyone on it, because do you think they will care if you do?

You just take care of business.

More later, ladies and gents.  Hugs to ya all.

Thursday, January 10, 2013



OK, so I have a really relevant picture to acompany today's blog, but now blogger won't let me download pics from my computer?  Only from Piccasa or an Android or from previous posted pictures.  Are you fucking kidding me, Blogger?  Terri, help!!!!

OK, normally, I leave politics out of my blog.  Mainly because I'm an easy going gal.  And because I have friends who are right-wing Republicans, yet I love them despite this, but.  LOL.

But today, I must DRAW THE LINE AT EXTREME IRONY.

So let me begin.  I haven't told anyone this but family.  Because I've learned it's not to your best interests to brag about what a big heart you have--for many reasons.  But this summer I made a mercy call.  My Republican roomie in the basement made a plea to me to help his college fraterntiy brother out who's having a hard financial time, is out of work, and is homeless and is fifty years old.

Because I'm a NICE PERSON and have  a big heart, I said sure.  He moved into the basement with my roomie who lives down there.  I expected, since this new person has a BS in mechanical engineering and is smart, that  he'd be here two months tops and move on.

Well, guess what?  He's been here six months.  He's not found a job.  He's not paid me a dime of rent.  Neither has my roomie offered to pay more rent since this is his frat brother.

There's more.

My roomie is an idiot.  A fucking idot.  And he can't manage his money.  Not that I care, but I DO CARE when he pays rent late, sometimes as late as 20-30 days late.  Let alone he's a republican yet he mooches off his democratic union who pays him good money.

So last month, I'm getting really fucking tired of this late rent business and never helping me out around this house.  Did I mention that I do not charge him for utilities and internet?  Yes, neither of them gets charged for water, heat, gas, electric, and internet.  Oh, and did I also mention that I have a washer and dryer that my original roomate also uses free of charge?

I barreled down there the other day and asked my original roommate WHY he has not paid his rent yet for January (btw, I only charge him $200).  I got the same old bullshit I've always heard, can't get time to go to the bank, etc.  Then I give him an "update."

That is, if he's late one more time, I''m calling Harvey's lockshop and throwing both of their shit in the alley and changing the locks.

Look, his friend seems like a sweet guy and responsible, just really down on his luck.  And I like helping people out.  I'm a benevolent person.  That's what I do.  I don't don't have a single friend who would have done what I have done.  Whatever.  It is what it is, and most people are selfish.  It's my roomie and his late rent bullshit that I'm sick of.

Then, today, as I was reading on my couch, I overheard, in my small house, a conversation that they were having.

Ready? 

It went like this.  That Native Americans were just living on the dole.  That all they were doing was looking for free handouts, like as they said "Most Americans are doing."  That America was all about getting free handouts these days.  That food stamps were bullshit.  Entitlements were BS.

This, coming from one roomie who's not paid me a lick of rent since I kindly let him move in in August and I have given him several hot meals?  This, coming from my original roomate who NEVER offers to fix my house, never takes out his trash, never mows the lawn, ruins my downstairs bathroom and make me fix it, makes me do everything for this house on my own labor and my own dime then owes me at least two hundred dollar in late rent fees.

Are you fucking kidding me? 

I am the hand you are biting, folks.  I am the hand of a good Christian Liberal.  I am the citizen of benevolence, to which if I kicked both of your sorry Republican asses out into the street, like I should do, you would weasel right up to the "entitlement" plans our government had out there and mooch off them , just like you do me.

Is there anyone, anyone who can see the irony here?

I'm writing down Harvey's Locksmith number right now.

They don't like Natalie's Benevolent Kindness?  Well, try our government's "entitlement" programs, or go live under a fucking bridge and eat grass.

I've had it with selfishness and hypocrisy especially with the right wing.  I am ready to tell them.  "OK, so you don't like entitlements?  Both of you get the fuck out of my house."

But I suppose I'd be called a "bitch."  Nice.  Happy New Year.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Happy New Year's and other Tasty Stuff

 
Look yummy, doesn't it?

That was my New Year's dinner to myself after skiing yesterday.  Happy New Year!  I MUST say, it was NOT only better tasting than anything I could have gotten going out to eat, but it was healthier, too.  Racking in only about 7 points in Weight Watchers, or about 300-400 or so calories.  Better than going out to eat.

Speaking of going out to eat, Crackie called me last week when I was at Jen's.  I let it go to voicemail, but he never left a message.  Instead, he just called me again after Christmas to see how I was doing and to ask me out for lunch.

I said, "Sure."  But I said it as if someone had asked me if I wanted to fly to the moon. Sure, in theory, it might be neat to fly to the moon.  But I doubt that's ever gonna happen in my lifetime.   In other words, I have very little faith that Crackie  will follow-through with taking me out to "lunch."  In fact, I'll just let my social agenda fill up with plenty of things to do, with or without people.

Then this morning, I thought "How sad is that?"  Not meaning ME, but HIM and others like him.  I think that way because like with most men, and many women, too, sadly, I cannot count on them. 

I was raised that your word is all you have.  Your word is golden.  If you SAY you're going to do something that involves others, you DO IT.  YOU FOLLOW THOUGH, providing you don't get hurt or have mandatory over-time at work.

Most men and women, particularly men, do not stand behind their words.  Cactus used words and was all talk, smoke and mirrors and no substance.

But even fairly nice people, I have found, are full of words that do not contain TRUE action behind them.  From the "Sure, let's hang out next week" to the, "I promise I'll do that with you," to countless un-returned dinner parties invitations and get-togethers, so many people are flaky and inconsistent.

So, that's very nice that Crackie WANTS to take me to lunch sometime.

And I would like to meet George Clooney sometime, but both are unlikely.

So remember folks, when you say you're going to do something with someone or for someone, be very aware of your liklihood and motives behind this. 

Don't offer to do something for someone or hang out unless you're damned sure you're going to do it.

Don't be flaky, or if you're flaky to me, KNOW that I KNOW this.  I won't call you out on it.  But KNOW that I KNOW.

Happy New Year!

Monday, December 31, 2012

Amusing Idiocy and Useless Drivel

Bennie passed out after my Xmas gathering.  He flirted too much, and it wore him out.

Sooo, I've been remiss again with December's postings.  But not for long.

I read on Yahoo news that some young asshats decided to name their new baby girl, Hashtag.  Seriously??   Hello?  Cheech and Chong called.  They want their bong back.  Someone commented that baby Hashtag's parents mother's name is probably "OMG" and the father's must be "LOL."  New levels of idiocy, folks!

Speaking of idiocy.  Cactus Man attempted contact via text last week.  Since Cactus is an idiot, I figured he was too stupid to realize that a Verizon "block" only lasts 90 days and not try to contact me ever again, so I never re-blocked him after about the 3rd time.  However, Christmas day, I woke up to the sound of my phone beeping a text at 5:00 a.m. with an 813 area code.

Obviously, it was Cactus' number, and he wrote, "I wonder if I am still blocked.  Merry Christmas."

Seriously?  As if, Cactus.  As if I want triple therapy all over again, as if I want toxic in my life again.  Really?  So I laid in bed, wondering what to text back.  Something snipish?  Something to chew his ass out?  Ignore it?  Re-block?  I fell back asleep, and when I woke up, I knew.

I went over to my netbook and brought up my Verizon account and entered his number to re-block him, but before I hit "OK," I sent him this hysterical reply:

"Merry Christmas to you, too.  Though I think you have the wrong number.  This is Morris Bad Wound, Hermosa, South Dakota.  Take care."  Then I hit send, then I hit "OK" to block any immediate replies from him.

Then I fell over on the couch laughing.  "Morris"?  And "Bad Wound"?  He'll either think, "Oh, she changed her number."  OR, he'll figure out, once he tried to reply to "Morris" and got a blocked response, that I tricked him and will be furious.  Either way, it's hysterical.  What a great "last word."

Gotta love it.  What a douchebag.

Happy New Year's!

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Feminism, Right to Work, and Pass Me a Beer, Please

Wouldn't it be cool if you could wolf down a Chicago deep dish like this twice a week along with copious beers and never gain weight?

Anyway, I'm hungry, at work, and ready to go to the gym here in a minute, but I read something today that was rather shocking and fits in to my last two posts.

C.E.D.A.W.

Know what that is?  If you're an American, ironically, you do not.  It's the Convention on the Elimination of all forms of Discrimination Against Women.  Every industrialized nation in the world, EXCEPT AMERICA, has signed on.

Nice, huh?

Then I heard Michigan just became a "Right to Work" state, which I call, a "Right to Live in Poverty" state.

Furthermore, what GIVES with employees who do NOT belong to a union the right to think that they can have the same benefits and pay as the guy right next to him, who works at the SAME place and BELONGS to the union and pays his/her dues?  Hello?

On NPR, I heard people who are for this are for it because they think it brings more good paying companies/jobs to a state when they adopt this ruling.

Hello?

South Dakota is a wonderful example of a state that is a "right to work," but one of the lowest paying states in the United States compared to all the other states.  Thanks, South Dakota!  Thanks, to our wonderfully, "always thinking of the little guy" far-right conservative, good-ol'-boy back slapping backwards asshats.

Especially west river.  There are hardly ANY good paying jobs in western South Dakota.  The few ones you see are usually government jobs.

People are idiots.

Have a good day.