Hometown: The Roch, MI (aka. The Crotch, aka. Crotchscratcher, aka. Crotchmolester, aka. Rochester)
Currently Living: Clawson, MI
Height: 5'8
Weight: Ha ha, yeah right
Favorite Color: Blue (preferably navy)
Profession: Researcher
Favorite Nickname: Trick, Sloan
Favorite Drinks:Vodka Tonic, Guinness, Diet Dr. Pepper, Dirty Martinis, red wine
Favorite TV Show: Friends, Sex & The City, Project Runway, The Amazing Race, Iron Chef America
Least Favorite TV Show: A Baby Story, I Love Lucy, Martha Stewart, Everybody Loves Raymond, every hour long drama
Favorite Books: The History of Love, Beloved, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Fight Club, A Prayer for Owen Meany, The of Being, SurUnbearable Lightness vivor, Empire Falls, The Corrections, The Bell Jar
Favorite Movies: Little Miss Sunshine, Anchorman, The 40 Year Old Virgin, Wordplay, American Beauty, Life is Beautiful, Amelie, Breakfast Club, Singin In The Rain, Sixteen Candles, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Sleeping Beauty, Dancer in the Dark, Duets, The Virgin Suicides, The Manchurian Candidate (1962), Austin Powers I, II & III, My Best Friends Wedding, Moulin Rouge, Tommy Boy, Billy Madison, The Shining, Gone With The Wind, Bridget Jones' Diary, Chicago, Love Actually
Guilty Pleasure Movies: Xanadu, Dirty Dancing, Overboard, Groundhog Day, Steel Magnolias, 10 Things I Hate About You, Bond movies, Footloose, Clue, Murder By Death, High Spirits, A Cinderella Story
What I Do Too Much: Check email, crossword puzzles, complain about my job to friends and family,
Obsessions: sushi, Indian food, ranch dressing, toenail polish, song lyrics, hands, awards shows, symmetry, avocados, maps, dreams, This American Life, the display in my car that tracks my MPG
Pet Peeves: loud eaters, slurping, gulping, arrogance, snoring, bad grammar, repetition, late mergers, ripping cardboard, the word "chunky", intolerance, couples in a restaurant sitting on the same side of a booth, pop-up ads, privacy manager, men that drive without shirts on, being foolish, unfairly jumping to conclusions, being made fun of, cat-calling, people who type too hard
Greatest Fear: crossing bridges
Relaxing Activites: late night drives to sing by myself, headstands, hot baths,
Wish I Was: Ansel Adams, Jenifer Aniston, in love, living alone
Prized Possessions: ring from my grandparents, flower pot of my Grandma's, electric blanket (temporarily broken), tongue scraper, my bed
Craziest Thing Ever Done: getting a tattoo, strip Jenga
Things I Eventually Want To Do: skydive, buy a guitar, learn how to play the aforementioned guitar, take flying lessons, travel to France, write a novel, learn how to play the harp, tap dancing lessons, run a marathon
Friday, February 09, 2007 Master and servants....I am about to make a good case for bringing Handi-Wipes with you when you go to a bar. You never know what may have previously been sitting on that bar stool....
Last Saturday, Suz and I went to see the boy perform at the Erotic Poetry and Music festival. (Note: The boy does not necessarily perform erotic music. Or poetry for that matter. But I think there was the word "loin" in one of their songs). Which was at a pretty cool bar in Detroit. The evenings' poets started off pretty good. Actually very sexy and, not too surprisingly, erotic. However, as the evening wore on, the poets got rather interesting. Think like a 50+ woman dominatrix in some kind of corset get-up with the most awesome mullet I've ever seen in real life. And then there was this couple. The girl at one point derobed and was wearing some kind of sheer thong outfit and was being whipped while the guy recited the poetry (yes, this was my Saturday night). And it could have been hot, if the couple weren't the kind of people you'd see at the Renaissance Festival.
So once done performing, they sat back down at their table and watched the rest of the poets (at this point it was mostly semi-intoxicated guys getting up there half-yelling rather vulgar things that were being paraded as poetry). And for the duration of the evening, the derobed girl, sat politely on her bar stool in her thong outfit, bare-assed cheeks on pleather. And there was a significant amount of ass fondling by the boy while she sat there. I couldn't help thinking that I wished I had some hand sanitizer or something and thought back on all the hundreds of bar stools I've sat on over the years and never thought a thing about it. Surely only other clothed asses had sat there before me. Why would I have any reason to think otherwise?? Well, now I do.
I suppose that I should use that event as a prep for tonight, where we will be going to see the boy perform at The Dirty Show, a rather legendary erotic art exhibition here in Detroit. And yes, I know I said that the boy isn't necessarily an erotic musician, but he is a performance artist, and has a piece that he's doing tonight. Which, from what I hear, involves a blow-up doll. But the evening should be interesting. I'm sure that if I'm wearing anything more than fishnets and electrical tape I may feel overdressed, and based on the photos on their website from previous years, I should expect to see lots of penises.
On that note, I'll be sure to report back to you, in all of its anticipated naughtiness. Have a good weekend.
Smooches.
BTW. We had the 4th annual family bowling fest on Sunday. Needless to say, I did not win the trophy (even with my respectable-for-a-girl, 108). The trophy even went to a non-family member. Now we all have one year to practice our asses off and reclaim it to its rightful lineage.
9:08 AM
Comments:
You are being polite when you say "non-member". I'm still seething about a non-Pierchala taking the FAMILY bowling trophy home. Grrr...
