Damn.

Ah, Helen Mirren. 63 years old and infinitely hotter than the 20-something deer-in-the-headlights model on the right.

Yay, bikinis!

(Via)

Rethinking

Man, When I get too much time on my hands (i.e.: when my children are gone) here’s what happens:

1. My laundry stays caught up. This is a good thing.

2. My house stays very neat. This is not such a good thing, because the second they come home I’m astounded at how quickly it becomes a cluttered swamp.

3. My refrigerator empties out. I don’t drink milk or juice, or use bread or butter or cheese when I cook for myself. Today’s inventory: Peaches, Pesto & Pinot Grigio. HAH! Swear to dog, I didn’t plan that.

4. I get all skinny. See #3.

5. I miss having the boys around to cuddle and hug and kiss and run my fingers through their hair.

6. It reminds me of what my uncle’s fiancée said: That being lonely when the kids are gone will make them feel guilty about leaving. She’s probably right, and I should probably start, like, dating or something.

Decorum, Please

I’m not sure why, but it really annoys the hell out of me when I get emails requesting a “link exchange.”

Take that back, I AM sure why.

It’s like that MySpace thingie, which also pisses me off that people I don’t know think it’s okay to send me a friend request without the common courtesy of a note of introduction. Like, give me something to work with, people.

Sigh. Maybe I’m just not meta enough, but when I add someone to my blogroll it’s because I like their site. And people who pay attention to their stats will see that i’ve added them and maybe they’ll add me, and maybe they won’t, but that’s oh-the-hell-kay. Whatever!

I guess I just don’t appreciate the blatant, in-my-face, oh-so-close-to-rude suggestions that a link exchange will “benefit us both.” I like my online friends, and I’ve met them all by following links, but I also think that, in this big series of tubes, things will get sorted out eventually.

I’m like a kid when it comes to this: If you tell me to do something, no way am I going to. Just to show you that you can’t boss me around. (Whoa, Mads, you’re all tough and shit. Jeeeeeze.)

And if you really really really want me to be your friend and link to your site and you can’t STAND it, a flattering email will get you far.

Who doesn’t like to get mail?