Effluvia

Lots of smoky, veiny links today!

Contortionists! Like circus freaks, but online!

How many nipples do you have?

That Was Stupid - thanks, Tim! Funny.

I Love Bacon - courtesy of James. Funny. Nudity.

My favorite Univision TV star - Viviana.

And finally, Bettie Page - because I just love Bettie.

Journal Roulette

Witch Baby - I don't get it. Nor do I want to. Possibly a theatre person; approach with caution.

Siobhanorama!

Hair care products. The stereotypical Siobhan entry.

The Coworkers
Ain't Cool Dep't.

One of my coworkers looks just like the shifty little guy with the big nose on The Sopranos. You know the guy I'm talking about? He's got the hot girlfriend and he shot the guy who works at the donut place in the foot. That guy. My coworker looks just like that guy. Well, that guy isn't cool and neither is the coworker in question.

One Year Ago
How to not get that job.

So my mom came to town this weekend, and it went very well. Sonya and I had not had a parent as a houseguest in all of our ten years of marriage, so we were both a little apprehensive about how it would go.

But it was great. Glenda was happy and agreeable to anything we suggested. We walked her around the Garden District and the French Quarter, took her shopping at the French Market and the Riverwalk and fed her at our favorite restauants - Semolina, La Peniche and Nirvana. I think she had a good time. She said she did, anyway. Sonya even boiled shrimp one night - extra tasty.

Sunday we took her to the House of Blues for their gospel brunch. Good music, excellent food and a neverending supply of mimosas. By the time we left Sonya was quietly and respectably hammered. That afternoon I took my mom to Mardi Gras World - we actually got to get in a flaot, which was neat - and then we dropped a few bucks at the casino.

I am a good son.

So I got my mom on the train yesterday afternoon and made sure she had all her bags. Then I left, walking through the train station...

...and before I even knew what I was doing I was looking in the little gift shop in the station for pornography.

Don't be silly, Harold, I told myself, this is New Orleans, for God's sake. If you want some porn go get some. They won't have any decent porn at the train station, anyway.

And they didn't, either. I was disappointed.

I didn't get any porn, but for the last twenty-four hours or so I've had this low-grade sexual distraction in my head. If I don't concentrate on whatever it is I'm doing I find myself choreographing scenes in Chasey Lain's next movie. Weird. I'm an under-thirty male, true, so I should think about sex an awful lot, but this is like being a teenager again. Not like me at all. It's not unpleasant, mind you, but it's there.

And all day long today I've been hungry - massively so. I woke up hungry and ate. By ten I wanted a full meal and had one of those miserable hungry headaches that stick with you all day despite fistfulls of advil. I ate lunch, then I was hungry again at three, when I devoured a Nutri-Grain and half a bag of Zapp's. And I'll be damned if I'm not hungry again right now.

Are the hunger and the preoccupation with sex related in some way? I suppose it's possible.

I ordered Orpheuscapade tickets today! This will be very much fun. Jen and James and Donna and Jimmy are going with me and Sonya. Other people might go, too. Is it cheap? Nope. But it's one of the most fun things I've ever done in my life. If you're in the neighborhood I highly recommend it.

I need to run. I even had a dream about running the other night. While I was sick all during December and into January I'm now healthy again (or as healthy as I'm going to get without running, anyway) and I told some coworkers that I'd do this run the first weekend in February.

But it's been so cold and rainy, you know? And when the weather is nice I've got better things to do. Along with that I've been getting home later (because I go to work later because I'm a big lazy fucker) so I don't have time to run. It's just easier to go home, eat, diddle with the computer, visit with the Wife and, to paraphrase Mr. Koyen, feel "the happy contentment of a dull child."

But I need to run. Maybe tomorrow.