We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
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Wednesday, February 7. 2007
Is this news? Women prefer new clothing to sex.
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I've done women's hair for the last twenty five years. They tell me everything about their men. One thing seems to be universal with my very rich clients, the women.
They have all sold out to be trophy wives. Some of their husbands are extremely wealthy but look like Gerard Depardieu or the late Jack Elam. They all have "pool boys" who do them. Their husbands are usually deal making, or so they say.
Swinging both ways I usually get the pick of the litter.
These women of Manhattan and New York, of Newport Beach and Beverly Hills are georgeous but very shallow.
It is not a surprise they prefer new clothes to the man they "love".
NY,Beverly Hills,London, and Paris
These new pubic trims are so much fun. Tah.
That was the best comment ever until I realized it was written by a man.
Surely you mean "public" trims, Mr. R.
As they used to say in the Clairol ads, "Only your hairdresser knows for sure."
Mr. Renee, you simply MUST see the Coen Brother's film "Intolerable Cruelty". It's a black comedy about those very people--one of the true knee-slappers.
the best Lady Clairol ad ever was "Mix Up a Double Batch, and Dye Your Snatch to Match".
(apologies for vulgarity, but how many chances do you ever get to tell that one?)
Oh, great, leave that twisting in the wind, over the white space--
Buddy ,don't delete or apologize...it was funny and although I've never seen an episode of "Sex and the City" I hear your line would have been most apropos.
"From 30 feet away she looked like a lot of class. From 10 feet away she looked like something made up to be seen from 30 feet away."
(I just can't resist this quote or the next by Oscar Wilde)
"I can resist anything but temptation"
that show should be titled "Sex and the Silly".
As I have quoted before, Augustine wrote "Lord, make me chaste...but not yet!"
Where we live the trophy brides are the rule. My daughters and I toss our unbleached waist length hair in scorn, assess the severity of their eating disorders, and wonder how many minutes their marriages would last should hubby lose his job...I don't have a hairdresser Mr Renee, just go to the males' barber every couple of years and have them hack off six inches or so.
The only people who know my secrets are minister, doctor, best friend, and you folks.
Back to cleaning up the house after the two males in the family have been home "sick" all day. 12 hours straight of Rome, Total War, and popcorn in every corner... The females return like Amazons (but not mutilated) from school and work and sigh "We be STRONG LIKE OX" as we set things to rights....Real life.
My kid doesn't lust after clothes but three new foils for fencing. Can't say that clothes ever displaced men in my affections...Tho a loving dog who can't talk is sometimes a more restful companion than a better half exhorting one to "Be ye perfect, even as I am perfect!"
Ah, the "time-share" living spaces--yes, dotter and I stay barricaded against each other's sound systems. I'm all hip-hop, and she's all Jazz & R&B.
Gosh it's good to hear of others who have time-sharing living spaces. Ours are inextricably entertwined with finances so any other solution would impoverish us both..well not really impoverish but I figure once we get to Montana, and my love of driving it could be weeks between shared anything.
Come to think of it I'd be hard pressed to say exactly what we share now....hmmm have to think on that one.
better hurry--Valentines Day is just around the corner--waiting with a nailed club.
Oh, bloody swell, Do tell, most divine barkless retriever. I am faire smitten with thy most intimate details of thou thoughts and musings of the parvenu and of thoust own most delectable exegesis of thy and thy daughter’s locks and Samson-like powers. I am given over to waxing poetic to express the rumbling passion that must needs more than silent susurration for thy words.
I love your long and hairy locks
How you must look like a fox
The peckers on the barnyard cocks
Are rising op in wrathly mocks
To challenge dawn’s erstwhile clocks
In happy ululations grunts the ox
He sheds his unsightly cloven socks
Back and forth he hotly rocks.
Porphyria’s lover I am not
But dang honey you make me hot.
R. Roisterdoister, IV, Esq.
We uns has herd about all o thet anglish foppery we uns aims to tolerate.
What a strange world it is, the faintest of threads clinging too. Shadow's and solids difficult to discern. The true values I seek under constant misspeak. I know the future I seek but am unable to bespeak. Woe is me...
Luther's old outfit has a great website--I recall from a thread elsewhere where he and another old vets wuz whittlin' by the stove. But I lost the url, dangit.
R. Roisterdoister, IV, Esq.
You should be on notice old boy that the fairest Retriever is going to be mine.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
One cannot improve on Lord Byron and the St. Regis in Bora Bora shall be ours to only improve upon.
Count S.Q. Keenland-Smedley VC,MBE
Should you wish to properly staff the entourage of your imminent duel, may I undertake to offer my services?
In hope of great shooting, I remain gravely
I say. My kind Mr. Bidity,
I shall certainly not have need of a second for any duel involving the most faire bitch, Retriever. I do dreadfully fear the firing of weaponry may frighten her gentle and demure demeanor and force her to run away.
I shall have her, you know. Count S.Q. Keenland-Smedley VC, MBE has no chance as he wears spurs over his tights and thinks himself a most noble knight. My, I must laugh though find a guffaw more befitting.
This has been a most pleasant exhaustion, and I shall retire with my butler with a thought to remember: What is love, after all, but a cross between two wishes. Oh dear... I rather recall that phrase may have said, “...two witches.” At any rate, anyone who disagrees with me, and who martyrs the poetry of a bi-polar and calls his betters ‘old boy’, had better step forward and explain his recalcitrance at once.
I remain in rigor,
Ralph Roisterdoister IV, Esq.