Random Esquire

Little Filthy ate a pack of gum.

A pack of gum.

I expect bad things.

I went to the gym this morning and saw my trainer.  The conversation turned to women.  (Do you see a pattern here?)  He told me that he keeps butting heads with his girlfriend and that she was bugging him.  I said, “What’s she do?”  He told me what she did for a living.  I clarified, “What’s she do that bugs you?”

He said, “She doesn’t like my job.”  I’m sure I looked puzzled.  He said, “This is actually my second gig.”  Then he pulled out his cell phone and pulled up a picture and handed the phone to me.  It was a picture of a man from behind, leaning up against a wall with his hands up above his head and his pants pulled down just past the butt.  I said, “Dude.  Is that your bare butt?”

Sure enough.  My trainer is an exotic dancer.

I think he blushed but I’m not sure.  He’s black.  I bet he was blushing.

Ha ha ha, you tell the best jokes, RandomEsq.

1. Plush listens to NPR. This delights me. I can’t explain why. Maybe because I would not have guessed it and unpredictability is interesting.

2. During a conversation with Plush, I confessed that I have a thing for high-maintenance, crabby women. I realize that this really does not tend to work in my favor. Crabbiness is not a great thing to find arousing in a person since most people do not equate their crabby mood with gettin’ it on.

Why can’t I just be a normal weirdo and like feet or something? I don’t know why, but crabbiness sets my teeth on edge in a good way.

3. Plush made an audible cooing sound when I mentioned Atonement. Mind you, I was telling her about how I made fun of The Italian. But uh…yeah, I’d take her. I’d take her if it was only showing in the next state.

See? High-maintenance. Something is wrong with me.

As you may have noticed, I have a thing for Emma Thompson. She’s my soccer mom crush. Check out those blonde high-lights. That’s got soccer mom written all over it.

Mmmmm, soccer mom.

I just had this conversation with my buddy:

Me: Dude, I want you to go find Emma Thompson and get me a date. Like, Emma Thompson from Much Ado About Nothing.

Buddy: Oh yeah, she was hot in that.

Me: Yeah, she was. Man, I’d do her now.

Buddy: Heh, totally.

Me: Dude, I’d Nanny McPhee her.

Buddy: Hey, I’m gonna get off the phone now.

Mmmmmm….Soccer mom.

1. We watched Ocean’s 13. I think I breathed an audible sigh of relief when I saw it in her hands.

2. Had a bad date lately? Check out this woman’s blog entry. This is a great blog. $10 to anyone who can get me a date with her. No, no! $20.

3. The Italian wrote a blog entry/contribution. I will post it this weekend.

4. I met a young woman a few weeks ago who is a blooming journalist considering law school. She’s wanted to ask me some questions about law school but our schedules haven’t meshed until today so we’re going to grab breakfast together.

5. Dinner plans with Plush. And no, not at a strip club.

6. I head to Las Vegas in two weeks for a few days with some buddies. I anticipate bad things.

The Italian and I were shooting it back and forth on the phone earlier today. Per our usual, we were discussing women. He’s been seeing a woman recently and they met up today for some mid-day coffee at Starbucks. In the background of our conversation, I heard his cell phone vibrate and I said, “Oh man, who’s sending you a message?” He said, “Oh! It’s her! She’s texting me back because I sent her a message after I saw her and told her ‘I can still feel that hug you gave me.’”

I said, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.”

He paused.

I said, “Mangina. MANGINA.”

He laughed.

I said, “Send her another text and say, ‘After I’m done painting your toenails tonight, we can go see Atonement.’” Then I ridiculed him. He laughed.

This is what I dig about The Italian. He knows he’s a sensitive bastard and he really just does not care if I pile it on. I could picture him in his office, grinning as he listened to me. He just doesn’t care. It doesn’t faze him. And why should it? She sent him a text message back that ended with “XOXOXO.”

Ya gotta dig The Italian.

1.  Today, I had to resist the urge to send a co-worker an e-mail that read, “We get it.  Shut the hell up already.”

2.  I sometimes see the same young woman at my train stop begging for money.  She’s pregnant and looks…like a used car, if that makes sense.  She walks from person to person and simply looks at them and one by one, they give her a dollar.  Something about the situation struck me as odd and then it dawned on me.  She came up to me and I said, “If I remember correctly, you’ve been pregnant for a year now.”  She gave just the slightest shrug and walked off.

3.   I’m going over to my neighbor’s place to watch a movie in a little bit – the one I just met.  I have no idea what movie it will be but I hope it isn’t a romantic comedy.  I just can’t stomach those.  Please be a brainless action flick, please be a brainless action flick, …or a horror movie, even.  But please, not something like Sleepless In Seattle or *gah* When Harry Met Sally.

You’ve got something on your screen.

Edited to add: Damn, they took down the website.

Edited to add: It’s back!

Picture of a wolf…with a pug in its mouth. Click on the “next” button below the picture to see how it ended.

Little Filthy made me promise that we would never move to Alaska.