My 5 on Both Sides

A running joke that we have in my current group of friends is our 'list of five'.  You get to pick 5 celebrities that your spouse would allow you to have sex with (no strings attached) if given the opportunity.  I feel like my list changes hourly, but this is probably the most consistent.

A few notes.  SMG moved up a spot (or down, here) after Google Image Searching her (damn!).  Also, there are a ton of honorable mentions that have made their way on and off:  Shannon Tweed, Anna Farris, Amy Adams, Pam Anderson, Rachel Roxx, Mila Kunis, and Monique Gabrielle, to name a few.

5.  Reese Witherspoon

I like younger & thicker.  Fear, Cruel Intentions, Legally Blonde.

4.  Isla Fisher

So distractingly (made up word) hot in Wedding Crashers.

3.  Sarah Michelle Gellar

Hot as Buffy.  Hotter in Cruel Intentions.

2.  Geri Halliwell

I've already done a post about her.

1.  Emma Stone

Something about those huge eyes (and red hair).  The opposite of yellow fever?

Then, I awoke on Monday morning after a weird, dirty dream with Channing Tatum.  I don't think I've ever really considered Tatum hot.  It did make me realize that if Annie were a guy, and all we did was blow each other all of the time, we'd probably never leave the house or have friends or be able to pay bills.  That's all gay guys do, right?... just blow each other all the time...

Monday morning, a friend posted this photo on Facebook, and I took it as a sign.  I've always been open about the fact that I find some guys hot.  (My current #1 has been at the top of my list for as long as I can remember.)  So, here goes my list of 5 on the guy side (Brody on gLee and David Beckham's Armani underwear shoot [just the shoot] are honoarable mentions):

5.  Channing Tatum

I've never actually seen Magic Mike.

4.  Chris Hemsworth

Only if he's bulked up like Thor.

3.  Taylor Lautner

He'll have to pretend to be Jacob.

2.  Chris Pine

Strangely unattractive shirtless...

1.  Mark Wahlberg

I think it has to do with the movie Fear.

So, there ya go, a post everybody can enjoy,
~RoB

Condoms

Seriously, if you're in the business of holding the stork at bay this Valentine's Day (or Gonorrhea or swollen, mushroom-penis or whatever), you should try the new Trojan Ecstasy condoms.

No, I'm not paid to say that.  And I don't want to make it sound like I've tried every condom on the market, but ummm... I've used a fair number of them...

It has a better shape (there's no balloon animal  hanging off the end, and there's more room for us ummm... wider folks...)  [There's even a line of Trojan Magnum Ecstasy condoms, but who the fuck needs those?!]  They're kind of expensive, but totally worth it.  That is, unless you have access to free condoms.  Those are more worth it.

Even Angel likes these condoms.  (He ate one on Friday night.)

Just saying,
~RoB

Edwin's Last Straw

If you don't remember Edwin & Eloise, then you should familiarize yourself with their disgusting, voyeuristic habits.  Well, it looked like things were the same this year.  Walking around at night, haunting the denizens of the full Tahoe house over Xmas break.  Business as usual.

They were at least nice enough to keep their waking-hour discretions in the guest room this year.

Not that they are any less demonic, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit to finding Eloise's jokes mildly amusing after a 46 oz margarita at the local Mexican restaurant.

She didn't seem to find me half-shabby this year, either.  Probably all of the red wine.  Next thing you know... Bam!  Makin' babies.

Apparently, Edwin walked in while we were in the middle of doing the nasty.  It's hard to hear anything else going on, if you've ever heard me making whoopie.  But I was awakened by Eloise's screams as she pushed off my heavy, muscular arm and excused herself to the bathroom to clean up the mess I made.

Edwin had apparently been disregarding the rumors that Eloise was sleeping around on him.  The scene that he found solidified what he had heard, and it was too much for him to handle.  It's what the evil fucker deserved anyway.

Happy New Year,
~RoB

Michael & the M-word

I remember sitting on my couch watching the movie Michael, with John Travolta, as a young adolescent.  The word 'adolescent' is the only word I can think that foreshadows this story, since to me, that word means unfortunate-kid-going-through-puberty.

Anybody remember this movie?

I know that I watched this movie.  I can vividly picture the layout of my living room, where I was laying across the couch that was butted up against the long wall.  Pops was in his recliner, and that sums up our living room furniture (as well as the total square footage of 50% of my house back then).  This movie was clearly playing on our TV.  I can remember a few pictures, but the whole story is lost to me.  Traumatic amnesia?  I think so.

I have NO clue what prompted this conversation.  I have NO clue at what point in the movie it happened.  All I know is, one moment I'm into some sappy movie about an archangel, and the next minute I'm getting the M-word speech.

Masturbation.

"It's OK to masturbate.  I used to do it all the time.  I've heard you in the bathroom flipping through pages, early in the morning."  I believe that is all he had to say, yet it feels like I was held down on the couch for days being tortured by awful masturbation conversation.  It was true.  He did have dirty mags in the bathroom, which I took it upon myself to explore.  I also had found a porno tape, which was my first real introduction to 'what everyone was talking about'.  I also have a sneaking suspicion that he caught me workin' it once, but that's never been confirmed.

Regardless, as comfortable as I am with masturbation (as well as everyone else should be), I can't help but feel a little scarred when I think back on this scene.  It certainly hasn't affected my performance as I get older, but it may have something to do with my crippling fear of awkward moments on TV and movies.

This story is trumped only be Granny's crabs story, the bottle of Viagra in our medicine cabinet in the bathroom, Pops' penile medical problems that he drew on a notepad for me, being walked in on Granny while 'watching a movie' with a girl, and seeing my mom and her then-husband doing it doggy-style (standing up, which is damn impressive, Mom) in the middle of the night on the way to the bathroom.

So, yeah, talk to your kids about sex..?
~RoB

Word of the Month

Superfecundation.  Specifically, heteropaternal superfecundation.

Heteropaternal superfecundation occurs when two different males father fraternal twins.

So two different dudes get the same chick pregnant at the same time.  There's an extremely small window of time where a woman can get two (or more?) eggs independently fertilized.  My mind is blown.

Twins!

It's funny that this finally makes sense.

What. The. Fuck!?!  Close those legs, sweety,
~RoB

Food & Sex

I'm always the moody one.  I have really severe mood swings sometimes.  I even spent a few sessions with a psychologist exploring rather or not I am bipolar (I took an online quiz through my medical center, and it said to do just that).  I'm pretty good at controlling myself in public, but I usually let it fly when I'm home.  Two things are the reasons for 90%+ of my tantrums: food & sex.  If I'm deprived of either for too long, I turn into a monster.  I'd like to say that it happens slowly, but that'd be a lie.  Something clicks, and I crave misery in every human being around me.  I've never actually been violent or anything, but I certainly have crazy scenarios flashing in my head.  Wow, that sounds so sociopathic (word?), I should probably delete it.

Last night, Annie pulled one on me.  Driving home from TJ's, I hit a turn that knocked over our single bag of groceries, that she had just paid for.  A carton of eggs topped the bag, and she was infuriated at my inability to either pack it securely or drive appropriately.  She was convinced the eggs were broken, and she got all Italian on me: yelling, hand motions going crazy, slamming the door, general craziness.  When she got out, I drove away and left her in the rain.  (I had the keys, since I was driving.)

I got mad at her anger, and it only got worse as I realized that she snapped... just like I do sometimes.  There's absolutely no room for introspection in this damn blog, so here's a crazy simple cake recipe, passed down from Annie's grandfather's lady-friend.  I made it yesterday (used up all the eggs), and it was pretty good.

Triple Chocolate Cake
1 pkg Chocolate Cake Mix (I prefer Duncan Hines Devils Food)
1 c Chocolate Chips (Nestle Toll House, as if there were others worth buying)
3.9 oz. pkg Instant Chocolate Pudding (Jell-O)
1/2 c Oil (I use Canola, Safflower, or Olive, in that order)
4 Eggs
1-1/4 c Water (I hold no allegiance to any water)
Bake in a preheated oven at 350 for 40-45 minutes (I did 45 mins).

I served it with Chocolate Cabernet Sauce drizzled over it, making it Quadruple Chocolate Cake, and certainly crossing the threshold of appropriate chocolate consumption.  Crossing lines.  That's what I do.

No eggs were actually harmed in the making of this post; she was wrong,
~RoB