There's a Military Channel.
The lineup tonight was Weaponology (season 1, not 2), followed by Top Sniper, then Sniper School. Rinse and repeat for the next 3 hours.
I have a fascination with special ops as much as the next, red-blooded, American, hottie but...really?
I need to get out more.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Olan Mills Awesomeness
I have searched and searched for who originated this brilliant, effing blogpost/email but to no avail. A girlfriend sent this to me today and I think I actually pulled something laughing at it. It is very rare that I laugh out loud at anything...I will usually smile and say, "That's funny!"
Uh-unh. This is the real, effing deal. For those of you who don't know, Olan Mills is the in-house photographer for K-Mart.
If you have any pictures to add -bring it. Don't cheat yourself by ignoring the captions below. My regards to the mastermind who originated this.
Those glasses came free with a purchase of Brut cologne .
Thoughtful Lance. Mirthful Lance. Two sides of a delightful coin.
Drake won Bitchin'est Senior Mullet by a landslide.
That dude wore a tie for nothing.
The Purvis family made several stops along the Oregon Trail to document their six-month journey. This photo was taken just two weeks before the dysentery took Momma to Jesus.
I wanted a shot like this for my wedding. The Mrs. said no.
It's called a leisure suit, ladies and germs, and if you didn't have one in the early 70s, you were a big fat loser. Mine was teal. I wore it with a silk floral shirt and a long necklace with a football player pendant that we all got at that year's team banquet. I was THE MAN.
Once they had two or three, how did they ever find enough time alone to make more?
No Comment
Olan Mills backdrop #4: Bucolic Meadow with Split Rail Fence. Is that an animal carcass behind her?
A pose like this will get you kicked right out of the Convention.
Oh, this is super. What better way to capture the charm and innocence of a child than to plunk him down amid the coarse trappings of a life lived in pursuit of wealth -- oversized bills, an adding machine and the Wall Street Journal -- and make him sit inside a briefcase? (They probably just fold up the little demon right in there to carry him home.) The finishing touch is the globe, which completes the portrait of the young Antichrist in Chess King vest and Red Goose loafers, plotting his takeover of the world (insert maniacal laugh). That is, as soon as someone changes his poopy diaper.
Bobbi isn't the first waitress to fall for her manager, but she and Dale both got fired from Shoney's.
Rejected Toby Keith album cover.
Just a typical afternoon down on the plantation. In a business suit. Y'know, for a budget meeting with the slaves.
Dawn and her recently exhumed sister, Gorgotha, pose with Scraps.
This photo isn't discolored. The 70s really were that Orange.
And don't miss the First Presbyterian Players as they perform 'Godspell' next Wednesday night in the Fellowship Hall. Childcare will be provided. Please bring a covered dish.
At the Southern Baptist Convention?
Olan Mills Backdrop #11: The Library, one of their most popular themes, as seen in this photo of the young Unabomber and his wife.
The Library might be more believable if the shelves weren't sloping downhill
Olan Mills is all about versatility. The simple addition of a column turns this generic plantation into Tara, where, apparently, someone opened a Hair Cuttery. (This Dorothy Hamill cut was very popular in 70s after Doro won Olympic gold. Both my sisters had the cut at different times. I did not -- although I did have a huge crush on Dorothy).
Patrick broke ranks and chose drag over the bow tie
You'd think Pearle Vision would throw in another two pairs for free.
Grapefruit smuggling isn't a crime, but posing it in profile should be.
Kenneth and his prom date
I got a 20 that says he drives a Camaro.
Hiroshima, 1945. The last known photo of Kelli and Senor Loco .
e this was Dad's idea.
Someone spent money on this.
It's so cute when couples have matching hairdos
Talk about a third wheel...
Nothing says 1973 quite like denim and helmet hair
I'd hide my face, too, little girl
B-52's, the early years.
She's looking for the speaker that's piping in 'Muskrat Love' so she can blast it with her laser eyes.
I can now die happy (please play Muskrat Love at my 3 day Wake).
Uh-unh. This is the real, effing deal. For those of you who don't know, Olan Mills is the in-house photographer for K-Mart.
If you have any pictures to add -bring it. Don't cheat yourself by ignoring the captions below. My regards to the mastermind who originated this.
Those glasses came free with a purchase of Brut cologne .
Thoughtful Lance. Mirthful Lance. Two sides of a delightful coin.
Drake won Bitchin'est Senior Mullet by a landslide.
That dude wore a tie for nothing.
The Purvis family made several stops along the Oregon Trail to document their six-month journey. This photo was taken just two weeks before the dysentery took Momma to Jesus.
I wanted a shot like this for my wedding. The Mrs. said no.
It's called a leisure suit, ladies and germs, and if you didn't have one in the early 70s, you were a big fat loser. Mine was teal. I wore it with a silk floral shirt and a long necklace with a football player pendant that we all got at that year's team banquet. I was THE MAN.
Once they had two or three, how did they ever find enough time alone to make more?
No Comment
Olan Mills backdrop #4: Bucolic Meadow with Split Rail Fence. Is that an animal carcass behind her?
A pose like this will get you kicked right out of the Convention.
Oh, this is super. What better way to capture the charm and innocence of a child than to plunk him down amid the coarse trappings of a life lived in pursuit of wealth -- oversized bills, an adding machine and the Wall Street Journal -- and make him sit inside a briefcase? (They probably just fold up the little demon right in there to carry him home.) The finishing touch is the globe, which completes the portrait of the young Antichrist in Chess King vest and Red Goose loafers, plotting his takeover of the world (insert maniacal laugh). That is, as soon as someone changes his poopy diaper.
Bobbi isn't the first waitress to fall for her manager, but she and Dale both got fired from Shoney's.
Rejected Toby Keith album cover.
Just a typical afternoon down on the plantation. In a business suit. Y'know, for a budget meeting with the slaves.
Dawn and her recently exhumed sister, Gorgotha, pose with Scraps.
This photo isn't discolored. The 70s really were that Orange.
And don't miss the First Presbyterian Players as they perform 'Godspell' next Wednesday night in the Fellowship Hall. Childcare will be provided. Please bring a covered dish.
At the Southern Baptist Convention?
Olan Mills Backdrop #11: The Library, one of their most popular themes, as seen in this photo of the young Unabomber and his wife.
The Library might be more believable if the shelves weren't sloping downhill
Olan Mills is all about versatility. The simple addition of a column turns this generic plantation into Tara, where, apparently, someone opened a Hair Cuttery. (This Dorothy Hamill cut was very popular in 70s after Doro won Olympic gold. Both my sisters had the cut at different times. I did not -- although I did have a huge crush on Dorothy).
Patrick broke ranks and chose drag over the bow tie
You'd think Pearle Vision would throw in another two pairs for free.
Grapefruit smuggling isn't a crime, but posing it in profile should be.
Kenneth and his prom date
I got a 20 that says he drives a Camaro.
Hiroshima, 1945. The last known photo of Kelli and Senor Loco .
e this was Dad's idea.
Someone spent money on this.
It's so cute when couples have matching hairdos
Talk about a third wheel...
Nothing says 1973 quite like denim and helmet hair
I'd hide my face, too, little girl
B-52's, the early years.
She's looking for the speaker that's piping in 'Muskrat Love' so she can blast it with her laser eyes.
I can now die happy (please play Muskrat Love at my 3 day Wake).
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Effing BOYS!
There have been so many things to blog about these last few weeks, I've been overwhelmed. I'll try a systematic approach over the next few days.
The other day, as I headed into a french bakery to buy some sinful, overpriced spread, a man walking by (who was not going into the store) opened the door for me. I was so pleasantly shocked that I made eye contact with this doughy, Midwestern, 30-something and thanked him, expressing my surprise. After asking me to repeat what I'd said, he nodded his head vigorously, smiling a little maniacally as he followed me into the vestibule. "You don't meet many guys like me in New York!" I managed to shake him by making a beeline for the hazelnut spread. You mean crazies? I beg to differ. That's what I get for engaging.
Last week I ran into a man I have a mad crush on. He's a wildly successful actor who is on tour with something and was back in town for a few days to, ya know, sit in on rehearsals for the play he wrote that's currently in rehearsal. After giving me an update, he asked about me. I explained I wasn't really acting much, mostly doing a lot of massage. "Well," he responded, "it could be worse. At least you're not homeless!" What? So, since I'm not homeless...I'm not allowed to mention that I'm not acting? I am not a whiner about my lack of career activity (at least, not lately, and definitely not with people I barely know and am trying to hypnotize into asking me out); I actually wasn't even freaking out about it at the time, I was very matter of fact. Does my lack of career make you uncomfortable? Are you serious? Dammit!
Today I met Julie for lunch. We went to the Cosi by Union Square, hotbed of NYU students and random officeworkers. Snagging a table by a handsome grad student working on his laptop, I noticed an interested picture on the hardback book sitting, next to him...a papaya cut in half. Hmm. Later, after he went to get his drink, I noted the title - She Comes First: The Thinking Man's Guide to Pleasuring a Woman. Oy. Wow, he was so cute a moment before. That book (conspicuously placed, cover up) was not touched once the entire hour I was there, and he was checking his email the whole time. This was one smooth operator...it was all a calculated setup to attract the babes. I am sorry, I'm really not comfortable using cunnilingus as an opener for chit-chat. It would be like saying, "Cute shirt! (giggle)" to a guy wearing a tee touting Free Mustache Rides.
The man of my dreams continues to elude me.
In other news: Sky Still Blue.
The other day, as I headed into a french bakery to buy some sinful, overpriced spread, a man walking by (who was not going into the store) opened the door for me. I was so pleasantly shocked that I made eye contact with this doughy, Midwestern, 30-something and thanked him, expressing my surprise. After asking me to repeat what I'd said, he nodded his head vigorously, smiling a little maniacally as he followed me into the vestibule. "You don't meet many guys like me in New York!" I managed to shake him by making a beeline for the hazelnut spread. You mean crazies? I beg to differ. That's what I get for engaging.
Last week I ran into a man I have a mad crush on. He's a wildly successful actor who is on tour with something and was back in town for a few days to, ya know, sit in on rehearsals for the play he wrote that's currently in rehearsal. After giving me an update, he asked about me. I explained I wasn't really acting much, mostly doing a lot of massage. "Well," he responded, "it could be worse. At least you're not homeless!" What? So, since I'm not homeless...I'm not allowed to mention that I'm not acting? I am not a whiner about my lack of career activity (at least, not lately, and definitely not with people I barely know and am trying to hypnotize into asking me out); I actually wasn't even freaking out about it at the time, I was very matter of fact. Does my lack of career make you uncomfortable? Are you serious? Dammit!
Today I met Julie for lunch. We went to the Cosi by Union Square, hotbed of NYU students and random officeworkers. Snagging a table by a handsome grad student working on his laptop, I noticed an interested picture on the hardback book sitting, next to him...a papaya cut in half. Hmm. Later, after he went to get his drink, I noted the title - She Comes First: The Thinking Man's Guide to Pleasuring a Woman. Oy. Wow, he was so cute a moment before. That book (conspicuously placed, cover up) was not touched once the entire hour I was there, and he was checking his email the whole time. This was one smooth operator...it was all a calculated setup to attract the babes. I am sorry, I'm really not comfortable using cunnilingus as an opener for chit-chat. It would be like saying, "Cute shirt! (giggle)" to a guy wearing a tee touting Free Mustache Rides.
The man of my dreams continues to elude me.
In other news: Sky Still Blue.
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