Why Edit Porn When You Edit It Badly?
Monday, Nov. 19, 2007 at 11:17 a.m.
On This Day in 1581, Russian Czar Ivan The Terrible kills his son, also named Ivan. The younger Ivan interrupted the elder Ivan, who was beating Ivan Jr's pregnant wife because of her inappropriate garb. Still in a fit of range, dad smote his son with a staff, killing him.
I don�t think we use the word �smote� enough anymore. I believe we should bring it back into our everyday vernacular. (heh heh � I said vernacular) Imagine how great it would feel to be in a car and suddenly yell, �You infidel driver! I smote thee and your late-model Dodge Neon!� I mean, any road rage I would have would suddenly be reduced to a fit of giggles. And I really like the word �infidel� as well. I actually do say that on a regular basis, mostly when I call the Hubster one . . . I also refer to him as �unwashed heathen�, which is a very truthful statement. It can�t be that much of an insult if it�s true, right?
Speaking of the Hubster, we just had our fourth anniversary on Thursday, which I think should mean that we win some sort of prize. I don�t know who is responsible for the actual gifting, perhaps the Hollywood entertainment industry, but I guess they have their hands full with the whole writer�s strike. At five years, I should be eligible for a tummy tuck and Hubster should be eligible for hair implants. At ten years, I should get new breasts. But I want to keep the old ones. So then I�ll have four.
Anyway, we celebrated by going out to a nice restaurant that we hadn�t been to before: Casey Moore�s, which is nestled in an old town part of Tempe. I had the ciopin . . . cio . . . anyway, I had a whole bunch of seafood in spicy marinara over linguini. Like clams and shrimp and scallops and escolar, and the Hubster had Cajun Shrimp, but we both agreed that the Cajun wasn�t anywhere near as spicy as my marinara seafood stew.
Friday night, we had one hell of an interesting night. We toddled over to a late-night double feature of Sugar Cookies, and an oddly-edited version of Debbie Does Dallas, as hosted by a local crazy woman of bad movies, the Midnight Movie Mamacita. Along with the bad 70�s porn were live performances from a local groups stage production of Debbie Does Dallas: The Musical!
Oh My Holy Freaking God!
Oh, wait, it gets even better.
There was a competition for free tickets to this musical, which of course I participated in because a) I love me some musicals, b) I love free tickets even better, and c), I have no shame.
So I competed, and won (thank you very much) in the �Fake Orgasm� competition. Of course I won. The only reason I didn�t writhe about on the floor in fake ecstacy was because it was a older movie theatre and god knew what was on that floor.
So this weekend the Hubster and I are going to take in some live theatre. Exquisite, darling, and all that.
Oh, and yes, even though I have had extremely little desire to nano, and I don�t know why, I still managed to get over 18K words. Don�t know how I managed to even pull that much out of my ass, but woot anyway!