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	<title>Random Esquire &#187; the italian</title>
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	<description>The Random Observations of a Random Esquire</description>
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		<title>Too Sexy, Lap Top, Squirrel Girl.</title>
		<link>http://randomesq.com/2008/10/06/too-sexy-lap-top-squirrel-girl/</link>
		<comments>http://randomesq.com/2008/10/06/too-sexy-lap-top-squirrel-girl/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 07 Oct 2008 02:09:12 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Random Esquire</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sexy]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sony Viao]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[squirrel]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[the italian]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://randomesq.com/?p=625</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[1.  I was on a conference call last week with the Italian when I got an instant message from him that went like this: &#8220;I&#8217;m too sexy.&#8221; &#8220;I&#8217;m too sexy for this call.&#8221; &#8220;Too sexy for this call.&#8221; &#8220;So sexy it hurts.&#8221; This is my life, people. 2.  I bought a lap top today.  Presumably [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>1.  I was on a conference call last week with the Italian when I got an instant message from him that went like this:</p>
<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m too sexy.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m too sexy for this call.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Too sexy for this call.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;So sexy it hurts.&#8221;</p>
<p>This is my life, people.</p>
<p>2.  I bought a lap top today.  Presumably so Sitcom and I could go sit at a coffee shop and work on a writing project.  I got a Sony Viao &#8211; the new CS series, I believe (one of the pre-releases)&#8230;that <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=48XKk5KHpSk">glows when you stroke it</a>.  I didn&#8217;t get pink, by the way. I got black.</p>
<p><img class="alignleft" src="http://i27.photobucket.com/albums/c169/RandomEsq/SquirrelGirl3.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="150" /></p>
<p>3.  My little <a href="http://randomesq.com/2008/05/04/squirrel-girl/">squirrel friend</a> is back.  She (<a href="http://randomesq.com/2008/05/08/you-sick-bastards/">how I know she&#8217;s a she</a>) disappeared over the summer while my patio was redone.</p>
<p>Today, I looked up to find her sitting just on the other side of the glass, having a staring contest with Little Filthy.  I got some crackers, walked out on the patio and set them down on the rail while she watched me, just a few inches away.  I went back inside and watched as she grabbed a cracker, ran along the building ledge to my neighbor&#8217;s patio and buried a cracker in one of her flower pots.  She did that with two more crackers and then sat on the railing and ate the last one.  I&#8217;m imagining my neighbors face when she finds her plants have sprouted crackers.</p>
<p>I think tomorrow will be oats and peanut butter.  I&#8217;m going to get her so fat, she needs to be moved with a forklift.   Then my work will be done.</p>
<span class="akst_link"><a href="http://randomesq.com/?p=625&amp;akst_action=share-this"  title="E-mail this, post to del.icio.us, etc." id="akst_link_625"  class="akst_share_link">Share This</a>
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		<title>The Italian, breakfast, and Tina.</title>
		<link>http://randomesq.com/2008/09/30/the-italian-breakfast-and-tina/</link>
		<comments>http://randomesq.com/2008/09/30/the-italian-breakfast-and-tina/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 30 Sep 2008 12:46:33 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Random Esquire</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[breakfast]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[the italian]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tina turner]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://randomesq.com/?p=607</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[1.  My phone rings.  I answer it and hear singing. It&#8217;s the Italian and he&#8217;s had a weekend of sex and fun with his Venezuelan girlfriend.  I listen for the first 5 minutes as he singsongs about his weekend.  He says, breathlessly and in a huge blur, &#8220;Do you know how many freakin&#8217; orgasms this [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>1.  My phone rings.  I answer it and hear singing. It&#8217;s the Italian and he&#8217;s had a weekend of sex and fun with his Venezuelan girlfriend.  I listen for the first 5 minutes as he singsongs about his weekend.  He says, breathlessly and in a huge blur, &#8220;Do you know how many freakin&#8217; orgasms this woman had?  And I believe it!  I may be a schmuck, <em>but I believe it</em>!&#8221;</p>
<p>I laugh and he says, &#8220;You know why I tell you these things? Because <em>you&#8217;re an enabler</em>.  Oh, I <em>like </em>being enabled.&#8221;</p>
<p>2.  When I eat breakfast foods, I want a little bit of everything.  A bite of a pancake, a bit of a biscuit, a sausage link, a strip of bacon, eggs, a bite of a crepe, etc.  I don&#8217;t want much of any one thing, I just don&#8217;t want to eat a plate of pancakes and not have the sweet evened out by something savory.  This is what I think about when blogging in the morning, I guess.</p>
<p>3.  Well, <a href="http://randomesq.com/2008/05/12/first-it-was-diana-ross-then-oprah-now-tina-turner/">as previously reported</a>&#8230;I am taking my mother to go see Tina Turner on Friday.  This means <a href="http://randomesq.com/2007/08/24/life-loves-irony-and-oprah/">I will have taken my mother to Oprah</a> and <a href="http://randomesq.com/2007/04/15/diana-ross-seriously/">my father to Diana Ross</a> and now, my mother to Tina Turner.  Gee, where should I take my dad next?  Bette Midler?</p>
<p>*sigh*</p>
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		<slash:comments>18</slash:comments>
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