July 24, 2007

I had a wildly inappropriate dream about Adrian Grenier the other night after watching Entourage. I woke up disgusted with myself, because really: Vince? Come on, how boring. Admittedly Entourage has slim pickings for lustful REM fantasy material, but I’d like to think that given the choice I’d at least go with Ari, whose asshole-ish qualities far surpass Vince’s giant Bambi eyes in terms of sex appeal.

The Vince-dream was a real anomaly, probably triggered by roiling pregnancy hormones (I can just picture JB reading this, going “Jesus, woman, I’ve got your hormone cure right here,” while—of course!—gesturing at his pants). I haven’t had a good movie star crush in ages. Sure, there’s Clive Owen, but while I can easily picture various scenarios in which I am a naughty schoolgirl and he is a strict—yet helplessly tempted—teacher (“Oh, Mr. Owen, isn’t there something I can do about this grade?”), he doesn’t quite trigger the starry-eyed obsession that I experienced after watching Lord of the Rings in 2003.

Which is probably a good thing, because when you’re 29 years old and spending half your day dreaming about a threesome with characters from a movie, one of which is a goddamned ELF, you probably need some mood stabilizers.

(We will not speak of my brief yet smoking-hot love affair with Captain Jack Sparrow, from the original movie only, and what it means that a flamboyantly gay pirate turned my crank so, and we will definitely not speak of the fact that I actually read some Pirates of the Caribbean erotic fanfic, OH MY GOD.)

As long as this entry is lying down here all naked in the gutter, I might as well tell you about the other day when I was drawing on Riley’s Magna-Doodle pad for him. He wanted me to first draw a “SOOCLE!” (circle), which I did, like so:

bbdraw1.jpg

Then he asked for another circle, “TWO SOOCLE!”. “You want me to draw two circles?” I asked, and he said “OKAY!”, and so two clumsily drawn circles were produced:

bbdraw2.jpg

JB moseyed by, peered at the screen, and asked if he could draw something (Riley: “OKAY!”). JB grabbed the pen and carefully added two dots on the circles:

bbdraw3.jpg

At that point Riley took one look at the drawing, then pointed to it and gleefully cried, “MOMMY! MOMMY’S BEE BEES!”

I’m not sure if I should be 1) impressed, 2) dismayed, or 3) disturbed that my hooters apparently resemble the drawing you see here.

Dang it, I meant to include these at the bottom of the preceding post to make up for all the coma-inducing body image talk. Go forth and be entertained!

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