carnal yearnings

I could really get into a prolonged session of erotic mischief right about now.

My imagination continues to slide into the gutter. Or onto expensive, yielding leather sofas, pristine hotel beds with yards of crisp white sheets, and carpeted, after-dark executive suites with the faint aroma of expensive scotch and cigars.

I'd better pack up for the day and go somewhere safe, wherever that may be. Sigh.

weekend immaturity plans

Although I suspect it makes me appear a bit more eccentric than I really am, I prefer to go to live music events alone. The reasons for this are pretty simple:

1. You can't carry on a conversation when a band is playing.
2. I don't know anyone who will want to attend with me, anyway.
3. You generally get a better seat if you're just buying one ticket.

I suppose this is as a good a time as any to admit that I have seen Prince in concert no less than four times, including paying over $200 for a ticket when he played in Sydney. And my attendance at no fewer than three Who concerts during my teenage years certainly damaged my hearing - especially the time I snagged a 4th-row seat. This is back when bands brought their own speaker towers.

This Saturday I plan to hit The Boiler Room, as the Electric Six are playing.  When they crank up I Wanna Take You To a Gay Bar, I plan to dive head-first into the mosh pit.

dwarf update

So far, I have not been singled out for any criticism. It's as if T.D.* and her lapdog - who looks like a Q-tip with hair on top, as her head's much too big for her body - just came down from the North to spread goodwill and bags of candy. The irritation has been minimal.

Even the excruciating "team building" crap didn't go on for much more than an hour. The low point was that we had to draw pictures of ourselves (mine had clothes) but thankfully that didn't take long. So I am back at my desk, only faintly nauseous.

All I have to do now is survive dinner at a crap restaurant.

be afraid. be very afraid.

Introducing the new love of my life. It's a 2001 Suzuki, but the previous owner kept it garaged and covered, so it looks and runs like new.

Evil incarnate at the Whole Foods

Even though I live much closer to the Lakewood Whole Foods, I visited the new mega-Whole Foods across from Northpark last night. I have been trying without success to find a particular brand of mustard called Honeycup, as for reasons uknown, the local grocery stores have stopped carrying it. Perhaps it's because it's Canadian mustard and the store managers are all hockey fans who hate the Canucks. 

After wandering around the new store for a few minutes, not seeing anything tempting, I made the mistake of going to the deli section.  This place is straight out of hell - they have a dessert bar with THREE kinds of bread pudding. 

After a few minutes of staring, I finally snagged some of the bread pudding with chocolate chips and slivered almonds. Then I topped off my caloric Armageddon with some creme anglaise. 

After I got home, I ended up skipping dinner and going straight for dessert. I sincerely hope this isn't the beginning of some sugar- and carbohydrate-riddled addiction.