Random Esquire

1.  Besos said I could write about something she did … but I can’t tease her about it for a month after I post.   That month is gonna start soon.  I hope I can be strong.

2.  I saw a quote float by on the screen in the elevator up to my office.  It was by Bristol Palin.  She said it was not realistic to expect abstinence outside of marriage.

Does anyone else find this as hilarious as I do?  She basically said that if you’re married, it’s reasonable to expect some abstinence.  Outside of that, though, not terribly realistic of you.  That cracked my shit up.

3.  I let myself get talked into participating in a drink making competition against some food and drink editors.  It was last night.  As I saw the contestants arrive with blood oranges and foams and ginger, I started to look at my very traditional drink recipe and hoped that the judges wouldn’t be releasing scorecards.  To my complete surprise…I won.  And now the recipe is going to be on the website of this national restaurant.  WTF.

4.  Valentine’s Day:  I’m horribly unromantic.  This point was brought home again when, after V-day, someone asked me what I got for Besos and I had to pause and consider how it was going to sound coming out of my mouth.  Basically, I chipped in on her new laptop.  OOOO, ROMANTIC.  What did Besos get for me?  heh.

She got me underwear that says ROTTEN on the butt.  No kidding.  It’s sort of appropriate.  Of course, it came with a black t-shirt that said, “Bad to the Bone.”

Hells yeah.

5.  Back to #1 and what Besos did…part of the reason I’m delighted with this discovery in her past is that Besos is good.  She’s so good.  She’s sweet and kind and patient and loving.  And just all around…SWEET.  So when I learned about something she did (during breakfast with a friend of ours), my jaw hit the ground and I was scandalized (jokingly).  This is the kind of thing I would do because I’m an asshole.  I then proceeded to tease her mercilessly about it.

After a point, she said ENOUGH.  See, this is the thing…Besos feels badly about it.  And that right there is the difference.  If I had done it, I might have bought a t-shirt declaring it.  She, however, is good.

More on that later.

Besos got the oil changed in her car today.  She promptly went home and sent me a text message to say that she was watching porn.  I said, “That’s how I celebrate all of my oil changes.  You should see what I do when I get my tires rotated.”  She’d had a bummed out day and decided that watching porn would cheer her up.  I mentioned that she could watch porn to cheer me up, as well.

We then had a conversation about porn.  Before I go into that, I’d like to note that two things really bother me about porn:

1) listening to some dude breathe through his teeth

and

2) all the spitting that goes on.

First, dude, it’s obvious you’re enjoying yourself.  But you’re making porn…and the point is for me to enjoy myself.  So I don’t want to listen to you hiss air through your teeth the entire time.  It distracts me from the woman.  Okay?

Second…there’s an awful lot of spitting that goes on in porn.  I’ve never spit on a woman.  On any part of a woman.  I’m pretty sure it might earn me a less than favorable reaction.  That’s not to say that spit doesn’t have its place and, indeed, uses in the act…just, you know, I’m not insulting her genitalia like it’s my evil step-father’s grave so I don’t spit on it like it offends me.  But I digress.

So we talked about porn and Besos saw fit to give me this tidbit:  “I just wish they’d skip the storyline and cut to the chase.”  I’m sure I laughed or paused or something because then she said in an informational librarian tone:  “Pornos have these…weak storylines…”

I said, “I love how you’re telling me this.”

I had earlier mentioned some movies I had DVR’d.  Most of them were action flicks.  Besos said, “I’ll make a deal with you.  I’ll watch those movies with you if you watch porn with me.”

*Blink*

Dude.  For reals?  How about this….you can throat punch me and I’ll watch porn with you.  Or you can poke me in the eye and I’ll watch porn with you.  Or you can give me papercuts between my fingers…and I’ll watch porn with you.  Is this really something we need to negotiate?

Okay, bedroom secret time.  You know how common sayings are particularly funny when they come out of the mouth of someone with English as a second language and they are used in a slightly unusual way?  Well, sometimes, after I’ve chased Besos around the couch a number of times and captured her on more than one occassion, she will clap her hands over herself and say, “CLOSED FOR BUSINESS. I am CLOSED FOR BUSINESS.”

Which really makes me laugh.

Anyway, so spill it.  Lay a bedroom secret on me.

p.s.  I discussed with Besos before posting this.  I’m not entirely stupid, for God’s sake.

Well, this is probably going to be the most inappropriate entry I’ve ever done.  Let me set the scene.

Besos and I were at dinner last night and we were talking about our friends, Chris and Bev (LynchSeattle and Blynch).  Besos said, “When I saw Chris in bed…”

*Blink*

I said, “What?”

She said, “When I saw Chris in bed…”

I said, “What?”

She said, “When. I. Saw. Chris. And. Bev….”

I said, “Ohhh…”

I told her what I’d been hearing and she laughed and we sent a text message to Bev relaying the story.  Bev relayed the message to Chris and we all laughed and then Bev and I decided we should have an affair to even out the score.

So, Besos and I went home and made with the whoopie pancakes and then fell asleep.  I woke up around 3 in the morning and could distinctly remember having two dreams:

1)  I had a dream that I absolutely had to go get the Amazon Kindle.  In fact, in my dream, you could watch television on it as well as download books from Amazon.

2)  In my other dream…I was making out with Bev in bed.  Oy!  I decided to keep that one to myself.

I got up to take out my contacts and brush my teeth before I silently slipped back into bed.  It was then that Besos spoke:

“You talk in your sleep.”

I froze.

“What?”

She said, “You talk in your sleep.”

I said slowly, “Ohhh? Uhhhhh…what did I say?”

She sat up and turned toward me and said, “You were having a good time.  You were moaning.  And then you said something.”

I couldn’t help it.  I started to laugh out of nervous embarrassment.  “What did I say?”

“You said, ‘That feels good, baby.’”

At this point, I couldn’t stop laughing and I burst out, “I had a dream I was making out with Bev in bed!”

Besos started to laugh and said, “You were not fucking making out!”

We laughed and curled up back in bed and I began to grab at her some more and she warned me to behave and brushed my hands away a little.

I couldn’t help it.

I whispered, “Bev lets me.”

Let’s pause in the story to fully appreciate my stupidity.  In the course of a few hours, I’d suggested an affair with another woman, had a dream in which I made out with said woman, apparently gave verbal indication of said dream and then made a stupid comment about my imaginary affair with the woman.

Besos let out a “Rraaawwwwrrrr!!” at me and I was banished to the other side of the bed.

But she was giggling the entire time so I snuck back over and behaved myself.

Dude.

WTF.

Good thing Besos can laugh about my goofiness.

But seriously, Bev…how you doin’?

1.  You may recall that The Ballerina is known for saying things no one else would say.  The other day, we were talking about bosses and managing people and how it can be difficult and she said this:

“Yeah…you gotta own that shit…

…like a lazy eye.”

*Blink*

I think I coughed on my coffee.

2.  The Italian and his girlfriend have parted ways.  We were discussing this and somehow, the topic of faces came up.  (You know…like, how women have 75 different looks and 73 of them mean stop what you’re doing right now.)  The Italian said he has a face.  I asked what it was.  He said, “The please fuck me face.  It’s a look that says, ‘Please fuck me. I would be oh-so-appreciative if you would.’”  Then he laughed until he coughed.

3.  I think I’m finally ready to date seriously.  Those of you who know me know that I’ve sort of fought it tooth and nail but that’s over.  And I’m pretty damn happy about that.  Obviously, though, my behavior had to change.  While on the phone with Besos tonight, we were laughing about how I’ve just become comfortable with the idea of dating seriously.

I said, “You broke me!”

She said, with a fair bit of indignation, “What did you say?”

I said, “I said you broke me!”

She snorted and said, “No…I fixed you.”

Okay, so I have this Mexican Spanish Phrasebook and I was reading stuff to Besos because she likes it when I sound like an idiot.

Me, thinking I’m very funny, said, “I better learn how to say this…Es una amiga, nada mas!”  Which means, basically, she’s just a friend.  She snorted at me and said something about me assuming we’d date long enough for me to learn the phrase.

Then I found a phrase that’s used when you think your partner is cheating on you and roughly translated, it means, “Are you putting horns on my head?”  So I said to her, “Me esta poniendo los cuernos?!”

Without skipping a beat, she laughed and rattled off something in Spanish.  I said, “What’s that mean??”

She said, “It means Yes, I’ve been cheating on you for the last five months with your best friend.”

FTW!  Spanish is fun!

Last night, I attended an anniversary party for a French restaurant of which I’m rather fond.  The Seattle folks ate there while in town visiting.  The theme of the party?  S&M Burlesque.  The best part?  It was a charity fund raiser for schools.  Let me tell you right now, folks, if all school fundraisers were like this, I’d be broke.  The kitchen poured out food, drinks were available at multiple bars and the eye candy…was plentiful.  Here are some shots of the evening.

Oh yeah…there was food there, too.

Funniest part of the night – in the last picture after the cut, you’ll see a tall, striking blonde woman.  She was approached by a middle aged man who introduced himself and then said, “What’s your name?”  She said, “Gigi.”  His response?

“Where’d you go to college?”

I can’t help it.  I laughed out loud.

More food, drink, and eye candy pictures after the cut. (more…)

1.  It just isn’t a proper drive unless I have a reason to use my horn.  It’s the favorite part of my car.  God, I love honking.

2.   Honest to God, I feel dirtier telling people I bought a webcam than I would if I told them I collect vintage porn.  (I don’t, by the way.)

3.   Besos and I were talking about Texas because she lived there for about a  year at one point.  I remarked that the first time I was in Texas and saw the Wranglers, cowboy boots and cowboy hats, my first thought was, “Oh..like, …for real?”  She said that when she first saw men in tight blue Wranglers, her first thought was, “Oh…they’re gay.”

4.   Speaking of Besos…she sent me a text message a while back and said that she was scared alone in her place and that she suspected it was haunted.  I said I agreed and said to her:  “All Mexican households are haunted.”  It just felt like something I knew.

5.   Sitcom is going to the Emmy’s.  But not to the party afterwards…because, you know, she has better things to do.  WTF.

1.  Churro and I decided that dating someone demonstrates an economic principle: supply and demand.  This came about originally from a conversation I had with Besos almost two months ago in which I told her that I was not ready to date anyone exclusively and she responded, “Knock yourself out.”  That, of course, meant that she’d be doing likewise.  And that made me grunt and heave myself back to my cave to do charcoal drawings on the walls, planning on exactly how to get her to choose me.  And that’s the thing – dating is an economic principle.

There’s only one of each person.  The more people that want that person, the more valuable that person is or seems.  No one wants to be one of two people at the end of the night standing alone who look at each other, shrug their shoulders and say, “Well, I don’t know…no one else is around…let’s make a go of it.”   I know, I know – it is crazy. But that’s my honest gut reaction.   I want to beat others.  I want to win.  I want to be chosen out of many.  Intellectually, I know this is ridiculous.  I don’t do it consciously.  I promise, I’m just subconsciously this stupid.

2.  The other night, I must have had an odd expression on my face because Besos said, “What’s that look mean?”  I asked what she meant.  She said, “Well, you normally have just two looks.”  I asked what they were.  Apparently they are 1) lust and 2) a look that says, “did I just say something wrong?”

3.  While out with Besos, Jenn and QTMama on Saturday night, Jenn stood up from her seat to adjust QT’s bra strap in the back, the tag of which had inched up and was sticking out of her low cut (in the back…and in the front, now that I think about it) shirt.  Jenn sat back down and the tag popped back up QT’s back.  She got back up to tuck it back in.  It came back out.  I stood up and said, “Here…” and then I decided to undo QTMama’s bra.  It just struck me as funny to do the exact opposite of something helpful.  This is a problem I have.  I think the unexpectedly absurd is funny.   At the last moment, better judgment got a hold of me and I didn’t do it but the ladies quickly figured out my plan and laughed at me.

Sooo, yesterday, Besos and I were at lunch and I think we were talking about my obsession with breasts.  She said, “You almost undid another woman’s bra at a bar!” I paused and thought about that. I said, “Is dating me difficult?”

She said, “No.”

I grinned.

She looked at me and said dryly, “It’s …a challenge.”

I said it once and I’ll say it again:   We’ve survived a hurdle.  Namely, my personality.

1.  I love how we can carbon date the Shroud of Turin but can’t figure out how old a couple of Chinese gymnasts are.

2.  The Italian called me on Monday very excited.  It seems he’d found a new porn website that featured Latin women.  I asked him, “If a woman that young and that attractive hit on you, would you sleep with her?”  He said, “If I got a woman that hot, it’d be because she wanted to steal my car.”  I burst out laughing.

3.  ‘Cleavage’ is sort of a harsh sounding word to describe something so good, isn’t it?  Couldn’t someone come up with a better word than something that sounds like you split open a dinner roll?  or chopped something in half?

4.  Besos described our relationship as a constant state of half amusement, half embarrassment.  Hmm.  I wonder which half I am.

5.  Have you ever had someone tell you a sexual fantasy and it was, more or less, one of your sexual fantasies as well?  And you were stunned at your good fortune?  And then you blinked and wondered if you were on some twisted version of Candid Camera?  Anyone?

no?

1.  I tried tamarinds this weekend.  Besos cracked open the pod and I bit off some of the sticky fruit.  Then I shuddered as drool drained out my mouth.  Okay, that’s not entirely accurate – but it was damn sour.  I can’t believe that I hadn’t had it before.  Then I decided that I wanted to eat more things that I’d never eaten before.  So I tried menudo.  Only, I found out later that Besos had told the server that I was a novice and so some things were left out of the soup.  I demanded to eat whatever was omitted so the server brought me a bowl with a calf’s foot in it, which I ate bits of while Besos cringed.  And then I ate a taco…with tongue.  That’s right. A tongue chunk taco.  Again, Besos cringed and shuddered.  What else should I try?

2.  The local newscast showed a bar where supporters were cheering on an Olympic athlete from a neighboring town.  They interviewed a woman and I did a double take at her.  She had the deepest vertical wrinkle I’d ever seen between her eyes.  It looked like a slot for a vending machine and I wondered if anyone was ever tempted to slide a quarter into her forehead.

3.  I’m officially a photographer (I guess) in that I’m going to get paid for some photographs.  Which is ironic.  Because LynchSeattle had to explain what an F-Stop was to me just last week.  How about that. I’m like a half-ass idiot-savant.

[Edited to add:  Just spoke with Besos and now I'm disturbed I picked at the calf foot.  I don't like the idea of eating something that probably stepped in its own feces.  Or anyone or anything else's feces, for that matter.  Yeah, probably no more foot for me.]