Propriety Report Returns To Finger-Point Facebook Drama

A spot of vulgarity just occured on Facebook. It was so vulgar, in fact, The Propriety Report has been summoned from temporary retirement to warn others from making similar error in judgement and propriety. It all began with

PBD (Pretty Boy Danny) is single.
Yesterday at 6:52pm · Comment ·LikeUnlike

This was no big deal. As the transition of PBD from Single to In A Relationship to Single again was blink and you'll miss it. But, a nosy guppy named Christy threw a bit of fuel on the fire with:

Christy: What happened, Pretty Boy?

Instead of answering, "None of your business buttinsky! Get a life!" PBD elaborated with:

PBD: you know..... Nothing bad just differences in life styles and what else not. Very cool person but!!!!!!!!!!

This rattled the cage of his ex, Brittany, and she virtually opened up her big mouth with:

Brittany: but!!!!!!-but what? hahaha...

This Facebook break-up was already highly inappropriate before some jackass named John threw his miserable two cents in with:

John P. T.: Remember what I told you Dan... Re-cast!!!

What a tool! I would have felt bad for Brittany but she should have never replied in the first place. She obviously didn't learn her lesson and returned to embarrass herself so badly I turned away in horror:

Brittany: his lost not mine.

Yes "his lost" should be "his loss". Sigh.

PBD: It's sad to see what people put immaturely after you say something nice about them... Sorry Brittany but those are the reasons that we are no longer.

Ouch. Brutal. He may as well have said, "I dumped you because you were annoying and now everyone and your mama knows it." The "Sorry" before her name was also a nice, rude touch and made her humiliation all the more satisfying for voyeurs and fans of vulgarity. In which we are not! Shame on the lot of you! I'm talking to YOU PBD. You and your ilk!

Good Day

Regular Reader Is Renowned

I just received the following e-mail from Marja: Did you know one of your blog readers is famous? California Kara is the author (well, the blog "author") of the Thanksgiving Letter!! LOL! Have you ever read it?

Nope. No one told me about it. But I will now. Join me here for the original letter or here for the new digital short.

Who Knew?

Later This Week....The Death Trail

One of our regulars danced with death and lived to tell the tale. Others weren't so lucky...I'll be transcribing the tale later this week. You should probably hold on to something in preparation.

I'm Helpless Before the Ugly of....

Daisy the Bulldog. Like E.T., she's so damn ugly it actually flip-flops to become unbearably cute. I would kidnap and keep her tomorrow if she didn't smell like complete sh*t. Like Bigger Chris here at the office, she suffers from smegma.

Team Tobin Forms on Transient Thanksgiving

Some of camera-ready (with the exception of D3 and one other regular that I won't call out here) attendees of Twin's 2nd Annual Tranny Transient Thanksgiving.

I love love love the Holidays. Well, I've always loved Christmas (Pity poor Perv. He's the original Scrooge that HATES Christmas and now he has to deal with me being annoying and humming Christmas songs during our commute to work, as I'll be in a chirpier mood right up until Dec. 26th), and I've grown to love Thanksgiving now that I look at it as a day to give thanks and ignore its evil origins. There was a lot to be grateful for at Twins 2nd Annual Tranny Transient Thanksgiving, like the food, James the Frequently Shirtless Chiropractor/Bartender's bone structure and strapping physique, 8 and Blow-Up sharing the same room while sprinkling sweetness and fairy dust through the air, and even D3 added joy to the evening (for the first time EVER) by bringing along a friend, Rizzo-Worlds Prettiest Persian, that wasn't excessively hairy or ugly (also...for the first time EVER) and was actually fun and entertaining. That really helped blunt the trauma of me having to look at D3's unholy mug all evening long.


Popular Tobin stepped out of Twin's recycle bin and stepped up to carve the bacon-wrapped turkey.

The evening actually had a point of relevancy when we all went around the room to say what we were grateful for this Thanksgiving. Popular Tobin's speech was so moving I actually felt some real human emotion. It went a long way towards getting the stench out of the air from O.J.'s thanks (O.J. stated something like, "Growing up I never knew any Blacks, Asians, Gays or Jews so this diversity is nice." ). From now on I'm firmly in camp, Team-Tobin, for all the good that will do, and do my best to free him from the crowded recycle bin. Helping to further clear the air was Blow-Ups speech where she stated she was grateful, "For Mik". Mind you, Mik was home playing video-games at the time.


Twin and Tight.

I call Twin's mom Tight because she is keeping it TIGHT! She is a walking-talking endorsement for Twin and should be trotted out whenever Twin has a new suitor. Don't worry. She's hyperactive so I think she could keep up with that dizzying pace!


You can see No-Nonsense Laura's spinach dip, which I hoisted from the office pot-luck. I passed it off as my own until the combo of someone asking me for the recipe as N.H.F. entered the room and hacked, "That Spinach Dip is making the rounds!" as he'd seen it the night before when I served some while entertaining Marja's brood.

I walked into the kitchen, saw this bread sculpture and asked, "What the hell is that?" The persons in the kitchen (D3, Blow-Up and Marja) replied, "Oh that's a sculpture of you!" I said, "That's nice dear," and snapped this photo and swiftly walked out of the kitchen as I thought, "That's one more thing to be thankful about. For not even in my darkest hours or gloomiest days have I ever had so little to do, or possessed so little common sense, to do something that absurd! Bless their little hearts."

And yours. Good Day.


Bonus Blogging: How Hyperactive Art Tight?

Twin's step-dad Omar Sherif, Kevin (you don't need to worry about who that is...yet),Twin, Beefy-Jon and Tight assembled on the courts. Baby don't mean to boast but my game is actually improving.

How hyper-active is Tight? Well, after it rained on Saturday the courts were still slightly wet on Sunday. A puddle here or there but still playable. This was not acceptable to Tight. Using only a raggedy beach towel from the back of my car, which she had to wring out with ridiculous frequency, she squeegeed the entire court while the rest of us stood there in amazement. I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

Jive Turkey

Although I think Thanksgiving had rude origins, I've forgotten about all that and learned to keep my focus on what is important about this Holiday: The Food. Oh yeah...and for all the things I'm grateful for: Food, cable, and strong jaw-lines and good bone structure.


Here's a snap-shot of the universally beloved Diana (Diana is as old as dust but still keeping it together and has a great attitude) at the remains of our company pot-luck where Perv did not bring a dish to pass. Shame on him! I did much better because the 2nd in command of the company, Linda, was ill so she had her husband drop off the holiday ham she prepared last night and... I presented it as my own.

I may seem sweet and cuddly but don't ever forget that I am street!

Enjoy your turkey!

Great Hera!!!

Can you believe how Joan Collins (seen here between Precious actress, Gabourey Sibide, and the diet advisor and socialite , Nikki Haskell) stubbornly refuses to age?

That's all.

Christmas With The Kitty

Twin: So T. What do you think of my photo for the Caburlesque Kittens 2010 Wall Calendar?
T: I think you look like a slut. A cute slut. But a slut nonetheless.
Twin: Huh? Really? Why???
T: (Stunned that she would even ask, "Why?") Because you are sprawled on the floor in your under-garments and fishnet stockings. You're also looking at the camera like its a fat ....



Anyway, you don't need to worry about the rest of that convo. What you do need to worry about is getting tickets to A Caburlesque Christmas at The Coronado Playhouse. I've already got my ticket ($20 at the door; $15 pre-sale @ 619.435.4856), for Sat December 5th, so come and say hi. I'll be easy to spot as I'll be lingering near the booze and refreshments.

Bonus Blogging: With Clothes That Ugly No Wonder....



Twin was also on San Diego Living(again) last week. She gives it her all (she's way more confident than the last shaky leg segment) but there's only so much one can do while wrestling with a burlap bag. Head right to the 2:57 mark to see her in action.

Blast that Big Chris!

Hello, I'm Sockboy.

When I told Big Chris (co-worker and avid video-gamer) that today's video games just weren't fun to me due to overly complicated controllers (translation: my memory is shot) and the overall lack of joy, he told me that Little Big Planet for the PS3 was original, creative and highly addictive. I haughtily sniffed that I couldn't be bothered with such trifle, as I was a grown ass man with a sense of refinement and an air of dignity, but I decided to pass the information on to you, as a courtesy. According to the review here: There are only two action buttons: X to jump, and R1 to grab hold of swings and move objects. Sackboy doesn't use any special powers, and he doesn't become any faster or stronger throughout the course of the game. This is platforming in its purest form: jumping from platform to platform, dodging obstacles such as fire and electricity, and collecting blue orbs to score points along the way. What makes Little Big Planet unique is that it frequently goes way beyond platforming into something else entirely, seemingly for no other reason than to satisfy the designer's rampant imagination. With scenarios such as hot-air balloon riding, animal prison breaks, and ninja henchmen battles (!!!), every level of Little Big Planet demonstrates incredible imagination.

So...since I have friends with children, I decided to borrow this from Big Chris to keep them entertained. I worried the children might want to start playing right away, and avoid all the set-up, so, in lieu of having some sex, I graciously designed a Sackboy (he is orange, with blue face paint and is cute) and placed orange and purple flowers, that I acquired from the Queen on the second level of the game in reward for winning a rousing game of pin the tail on the donkey, about his highly customizable portal room. After completing the third level of the game, I figured that was enough to get the kids started. After thinking about it a bit, I decided that I did not want them f*cking around in my Sackboy's room or screwing up my designs with their germ-ridden little kid hands to miss out on creating their own little world so I'll let them start from scratch. But if one of them reaches a ninja henchman battle (!!!) before I do I'll shove them to the ground and rip the controller right out of their grubby mitts!

Good Day

How I Met Your Mother: Scandal Edition

The happy, reconciled couple on the sands of Pac Beach near dumb Moondoggies.

My phone rang at 7:05 AM on Saturday morning and I grabbed it to curse someone out until the caller ID revealed it was one of my closest friends, Ron, who I've talked about previously. "Give me strength", I uttered, before rolling over and going back to sleep. When I woke up an hour later and listened to this dread inspiring message: "Tyralina! Tyralina! Wake up man! I'm on my way there now! I'm bringing Jen with me (his wife who was thisclose to being an ex-wife, but they worked it out) and we really want to see you! I miss you man! Call me back! I really want to go to Moondoggies!" I screamed "F*CK! Ring the Alarms!" and then sprang into action, cursing myself for the hour I'd lost simply sleeping. I called Ron back and casually mentioned that Emo had out of town guests so he would have to get a hotel. After I finished the call, I pulled out two suit-cases, stuffed them with dirty laundry, and then propped them next to the sofa to give the appearance of out of town guests (it was at this point that D3 came over to borrow the clothing iron which he promised to return the next day and still has not). Then I told Emo, "In case you are here when they pick me up, it is essential you don't give me away!" He said, "Well I don't mind if they stay here," so I replied, "That's nice dear. But I do! Ron is so pushy he makes N.H.F. seem like a kitty!" It's true. I love Ron but once he got in the home it would be an unbearable burden as he lives to torture me and can't go five minutes without saying, "Tyralina! Tyralina! What are you doing Tyralina?"


The Days Inn...sign. HA! The Downtown Days Inn is actually behind me in this shot. I suspect a lot of people go there to have sex. The continental breakfast was nice.



Uh-oh, I'm out of time. I was just going to share with you how interesting it will be if these two produce kids and they ask Ron, "How did you meet our mother?". The story is quite interesting, like a tawdry, XXX-Rated version of How I Met Your Mother. If I had more time I would tell you how Ron met his wife...twice. The first time was ten years ago in San Francisco, when she and I were good friends, and then the second time around they didn't even realize they'd met before, due to a few lbs gained here and there, until Ron said my name and she said, "Whoa! That's my friend! Black guy that smiles a lot with a really big head? Wait, haven't we met before? T brought us over and you kicked the guy I was dating at the time, Steve, out of your house!" Actually, as my memory is clearer, he kicked them both out-and i cussed him out because Steve was hot- but only after setting up a scandalous meeting with Jen later in the week! Yes! They were both planning on being unfaithful with each other but, in their defense, never went through with the plans and forgot about each other until they met years later. If I had time I would tell you how the story gets even more interesting because Steve and I were hanging out, after he broke up with Jen (they were together for quite some time), and one day I went to the bathroom only to come out to find Steve naked as a jail-bird in my bedroom, with a boner. Jen told me she knew of this incident and suspected he was always gay, that's why the relationship went kaput. Now he is out of the closet completely. If you think this sounds crazy, you should know what I'm NOT telling you. Anyway, the best part was torturing Ron about the incident (I give as good as I get) as he wanted to know if Jen's ex was well endowed. Well his actual words were, "Tyralina! You better tell me that f*cker had a little one!"

Ahhhh...if only I had more time.

Saber-Tooth Tiger Town

This is raunchier than expected.

Twilight: New Moon A.K.A. Tween Porn

Disclaimer: Twilight: New Moon was not made for me so pay little attention to my review if you want to see the film. I am cantankerous, old, impatient and prefer my films to have a narrative, passable acting and forward motion if I'm going to spend two plus hours at the cinema. I actually received an irritated look from a mother and daughter seated next to us when I began to root for the villain ("Rip his head off! And hers too!") near the end of the movie and when I burst out laughing at the campy ending.



I'll be candid. I was unable to finish the original Twilight movie because it was so damn boring. I made it through the first thirty minutes and called it a day. Why I agreed to see the sequel, especially when I just knew the theatre would be filled with annoying youth (and sadly, it was) is beyond me. Still, I thought, "This movie is going to suck. Since I'm going in knowing it will suck maybe it will surprise me?" And lo and behold it did. It was longer, duller and more wretched than I ever could have ever imagined. Don't get me started on the dialogue (would a teenage guy ever in a million years refer to a wimpy guy as "a marshmallow"? Not since the fifties) Never, ever in all my years on this earth did I think I would ever yell at a movie screen, "Will you please put a shirt ON!?!?"


I like Kristin Stewart. I look forward to seeing her act in films where she does not have to portray Bella, a depressed damsel in distress. Here she is saved after a near-drowning. Bella only gets in the kinds of peril that will require the removal of a mans shirt in order to save her.


On the other hand, they must have saved a lotta dough on wardrobe.

This is the kind of movie where when the heroine is bleeding, the young hunk strips off his shirt to use as a tourniquet to stop the blood flow. I feel the need here to issue a: Reality Check! In real life if you are bleeding, hairless pretty boys with gel tousled hair will steer your bleeding head away from their American Apparel shirt and have a complete fit if you get one drop of blood on it.



Although, its a load of crap, New Moon does have two positives so I'll focus on them now. The Italian Volturi vampires, with Dakota Fanning and Michael Sheen providing the only good acting in the entire movie, were interesting. They were on-screen for about 7 or 8 minutes.



The scene above is tied with the Volturi beat-down as the best part of this awful movie. As bitter as I was by this point, even I am helpless when brooding vampires with good hair undress to reveal (although certainly aided by body make-up) washboard abs and ludicrously visible pelvic muscles. Thus I joined in the audible gasps (and I'm certain I heard a splash or two) that escaped from the united front of grandmothers, gays, tweens, teens and soccer moms. And don't fool yourself. This tween and teen porn will stir burgeoning libidos. Robert Pattinson walks with a heavy weight on his shoulders as he has become responsible for more compromised hymens than horse-back riding.

Good Day

Clois Copulates

Here's one of the reasons I was unable to swallow the dull romance of New Moon. The heat between Lois and Clark on Smallville incinerates anything I saw in that boring Twilight sequel. Here, they get it on for the first time ever, with gloriously cheesy soft-core effects, under a red sun that General Zod has manufactured so Superman has lost his powers. Oh...and this just happens to be one year in the future, as spunky Lois (my 3rd favorite heroine on television, after True Blood's Sookie and Dexter's foul-mouthed Deborah...of course) has time traveled in order to change the grim course of the future and is rewarded with fat, Kryptonian cock. Superman's portrayer, the absurdly gorgeous and swollen Tom Welling, and Erica Durance, have chemistry to spare.


As if I couldn't love Smallville more than I do, now they've cast Pam Grier, 70's blaxploitation icon and the star of one of my favorite films ever, Quentin Tarantino's Jackie Brown, as...



Bloated and ball-breaking government agent, Amanda Waller.




Here is the Amanda Waller action figure. I kid you not. I was going to buy this for one of my stout, no-nonsense, church-going relatives for Christmas and say, "It's an action figure of you!" But it's actually a spitting image of my deceased Aunt Helen (almost eerily so) and I didn't want to overly upset anyone.

Good Day

Slippery AMA Performances Add to Burdens

I received this text from CJ in Hollywood at 10:02PM, well after I'd passed out from my burdensome weekend filled with out of town guests: "She fixed dem teet dat the crack destroyed! And bringin it so all dem naysayers know dat she is back!" It was only today that I figured out she was talking about Whitney Houston on the American Music Awards.


My beloved Alicia Keys with Jay-Z. Where art thou Jigga?


and Janet? Finding these performances has proven impossible.

Every other person in my department has called in sick today. Not only am I dealing with the repercussions of working with sickly, weak persons with girlish constitutions; the dumb DVR did not record the American Music Awards last night due to conflicts with other programming. I'm scrambling to watch the performances on-line as rude ABC/Dick Clark productions takes them down as fast as they can go up! I'm still looking for the Jay-Z/Alicia Keys, Janet Jackson and Jennifer Lopez (she, as well as Adam Lambert bit it on the slippery stage) performances but of those I've watched so far these are the two most interesting. Lady Gaga continues to excel at high drama while Adam Lambert, possibly suffering from a slight concussion due to his fall, shrieked like a banshee as he shoved faces into his crotch.




Gaga!


Take that! I just hope he was considerate enough to use talc to keep the area dry and fresh.


Lambert's For Your Entertainment.

The Exploitation of Blow-Up Nixed!

There was a sequence here with Blow-Up posing in her bikini on the beach until she got owned. Due to her sheer goodness, the bikini photos remain private.

Last night at a little after 8PM I was parking outside my apartment after a sporty game of tennis with the bullying, Beefy-Jon (he literally bullied his way into a point last night that was simply not his) and I thought, "I'm so tired and I still have to make dinner. Oh the burden!" Then I saw D3's car pass and then stop and reverse!! I thought, "I'm too tired for this! But maybe I'll drag him out of the car and beat him down in the middle of the street with my tennis racket!" But then the passenger window rolled down and there was Blow-Up. She chirped sweetly, "Hi! We're on our way to get pizza at Lefty's! Would you like me to drop a piece off for you on our way back?"

This pizza looks yummy but tasted terribly. Just like my last date.

That question was a waste of time. When they returned five minutes later and Blow Up handed me the slice shown above and then chirped sweetly, "I should be mad at you for putting up that picture of me after I asked you not to do so! I really hate that picture. But I realize that I really have no one to blame but myself for giving you the camera." As if I couldn't love her any more than I already do. The delivery of food, coupled with the taking responsibility for her actions ("I/You have no one to blame but myself/yourself," after you've brought misery on yourself, always fills me with joy) is just too much and I can't exploit her. Thus the photos I threatened to publish yesterday will remain unpublished. I would have actually removed the picture of her in the bikini, that she did not like, from yesterday had the pizza actually been any good. It may look tasty but it was N-A-S-T-Y with a sh*t-load of crust and barely any cheese. If I had a dog I would have crushed it up in a bowl and fed it to him.

I'd like to say it's the thought that counts...but let's keep it real.

Gaga, Groomsman & Busted Bridesmaids

There's something a bit kinky about this shot.

I'll be candid. I've worked with the Stick-Thin Chelsea for about 2 years now and I think we've exchanged maybe three sentences. I always thought she was a bit of a dullard as she sat at her desk quietly, working. I mean what was that all about? Anyway, last week she forgot to set her phone on vibrate and when it rang I heard, "Muh muh muh muh muh muh muh my poker face!" Of course, I burst out laughing, screeched "Really? Poker Face? Everyone Chelsea, a grown woman, downloaded a Lady Gaga song as her ring-tone!" I'm not kidding, we had a full scale pile-on (I love a good pile-on) as everyone gave Chelsea grief. The best part was watching Chelsea turn fire-engine red. The redder she got the harder I laughed. After that ice-breaker, we actually started saying "Good morning" (previously, there was just a grunt) and yesterday she decided to show me her wedding photos. After viewing, I told her, "These are fun! I had absolutely no idea you were fun!" Chelsea replied, in a fashion far more animated than I've ever seen her, "OMIGOD of course I'm fun! I wanted all my wedding photos be fun!" Who knew? Also of note, her dress is cute. Although I wish she'd worn her hair up. I've chosen a few photographs and posted them here


Chelsea had to wear flats as her husband is noticeably shorter than she. Not that there's anything wrong with that.



The wedding party was a little lop-sided as the groomsmen are quite fetching. As for the bridesmaids...well they can take comfort in the fact that, unlike so many unlucky bridesmaids that are forced into something ridiculous, they can actually wear those dresses again if they receive invite to Puerto Rican prom.


A delirious happy bride celebrates her right to marry freely. I feel like she's rubbing it in my face. Now I'm angry again...





Bonus Blogging: Lone Brother

There was only one person of color at Chelsea's wedding: The DJ.

All this talk of weddings reminds me of this recent convo with the newly engaged Hot Nerd Brian
HNB: Well we're getting married in Temecula. The wedding will be VERY small and you just made the cut.
T: Gee, thanks. Wait a minute. Will there be any other gay or black people?
HNB: You're the only black person, let me check on the gay (leaves a moment, I believe to consult with his fiancee, Nikki). Nope. You're the only gay.
T: (Dawning on me why I made the cut. Street cred.) Well I hope there's open bar.

Oprah Wept

The big announcement

At first I thought this would be the REAL black Friday as I prepared to dress all in black (as usual but today not for slimming purposes), to mourn Oprah's exit from her daily talk show and ascension to her throne on her property, The Promised Land, in Montecito, on September 9, 2011. But turns out Oprah's not done with us yet, she is just over the daily grind of her talk show. Her best buddy, Gayle King, chatted with Access Hollywood, and according to the article here: “It was Oprah’s decision and Oprah’s decision alone,” Gayle told Access Hollywood Thursday night at Diddy’s 40th birthday celebration at The Plaza Hotel in New York. Gayle said fans would still see Oprah on the small screen, but in a bigger way. “She will be going to her own network though.” What a welcome relief! I won't be mourning after all. Instead...

Let us pray:

Oprah,

Thank you for graciously sharing yourself with us via The Oprah Winfrey Show for the past 25 years. After you hand-picked our current President, I guess you figured it was time for us to stand on our own by picking our own books for book-club and not relying on your "My Favorite Things" episodes for Christmas gift-giving tips. Anyway, I also want to thank you for your truly hilarious appearance on 30 Rock and your Oscar-nominated role as Sophia in The Color Purple where you uttered the classic line, "I loves Harpo, God knows I do. But I'll kill him dead 'fo I let him beat me." Please forgive me for all those The Colored People jokes I made in my youth. Most of all I want to thank you for inspiring hope in people with unusually large heads that constantly struggle with their weight. In the name of Winfrey, Stedman, and the holy Gayle.

Good Day

Bonus Blogging: An Oprahspective


The Good (Everyone gets a car!)


The Bad


And the ug...ok that's mean-spirited. And the Insincere.


And the wagon with 67 lbs of fat.

Tranny Scuffle

Dlisted has this on their blog under the heading, "This is How You Snatch a Wig" Here's an excerpt: Whenever the winner is announced at a beauty pageant, the losers always stand there with a processed smile on their face and freshly glazed eyes. They clap because they are programmed to, but deep inside their brains they are fantasizing about ripping the winning whore's head off with their bare teeth. They never go through with it. But thankfully, a losing drag queen at the Miss Brazil Gay 2009 pageant had the balls (literally) to do it.

Oprah in the morning this is funny!

Perv Jumps Ship: Yaps iPhone not My Phone!

This is Perv's now. I'm understandable jealous. It's everything I've ever wanted in a phone and more.

You can take a mule and dress it up in a horse's harness and you know what you got? A mule in a horses harness. I use this analogy for the mule that is AT&T wireless trying to get all fancy shmancy with their exclusivity agreement with Apple for the iPhone. Perv learned this lesson the hard way when I hopped in the Prius for our morning commute and I asked, "Did you get my text last night?" He said, "No. I got nothing!" I usually assume the problem is Sprint, because they suck, whenever anything like this happens, but Perv confessed, "I love this iPhone. I love everything about it but I can't get service at home and I can barely get service at the office (which is 30 minutes away from home). I told him, "Yes, I've read about the complaints online. I still remember at Comic-con when Marja needed her phone the MOST and it wouldn't work. The sight of her making calls on my raggedy-ass Sprint phone, while her piece of technological advancement sat there as useless as the rubbers in my night-stand, filled me with joy." Perv said, "I hate to say it because I love this phone but I wish I was still with Verizon."


The mule

Forty minutes later, after we'd arrived at work. The straw fell that broke the camel's back. Perv suddenly received my text, twelve hours after it was sent, and (this is painful) not one, but TWO enthusiastic voice mail messages from a potential suitor. Perv had spent Sunday evening in total agony, as he'd made plans with this potential suitor, and thought he'd been blown off, rejected, ignored and dumped (again). There are two things in this world you don't mess with: 1) Perv's money and 2) Perv getting some booty. The next morning when I got in the car Perv displayed his new Blackberry Tour. He'd jumped ship to the reliable Verizon. Yes, he was still under contract with AT&T but he got out of it after telling them what was up.

The horse's harness

There is one big winner in all of this mess: ME! I'm sorry to make it all about me. But I haven't had one moment of rest while Perv's had that iPhone. I was terrified that he would find one of my favorite web-sites for titilation: Guys with iPhones (and that is NOT safe for work unless you work somewhere as cool as I do)and blindside me by making a submission (I actually recognized someone on that lurid but I can't get enough of it web-site!). My already tenuous grip on sanity would surely have slipped and I would have...well I think the clip below from Family Guy sums it up.



I'm resting much better at night.

Good Day