This Chick's Perspective…

Two o’clock this morning found me wondering why more “One Way” signs aren’t vandalized with the addition of “…Or the other.”  Maybe it’s a generational thing – Blondie not being who all the kids are listening to these days.

The other reason I couldn’t sleep was, because like a child headed off to Disney World in the morning, I was too excited about today’s getaway to the next town.  Seriously.  Hec and I, after stretching at a couple of rest stops along the way, have arrived at the Marriott Residence Inn on International Drive, Portsmouth, NH for what is sure to be one hell of a cultural-shock filled minibreak.

We are conveniently located next to the Redhook Brewery – a delightful place to spend time if you enjoy mediocre (so I’m told) beer, inferior food, or wine that even my mother wouldn’t drink unless it was mixed with ginger ale and had a sherbet ring floating atop it.

Thus far, we have lunched at exotic Chipotles, browsed through a kitchen store in a strip-mall, and discovered a quaint boutique named “Bed, Bath & Beyond.”   At this stop, Hec practiced nonchalantly tossing a box of Magnum XLs onto the checkout counter and asking, “Got anything bigger?”

For some reason, we often get strange looks from fellow-shoppers…

Exhausted by this effort, Hec is now napping – which means he is lying in bed watching The Stand for the billionth time.   After I finish this, I plan on contemplating the Marriott candy bowl.  I mean it.  Ever stayed at a Marriott?  There is ALWAYS a candy bowl with the exact same type of candy; one that I have never encountered in the real world.  Since the bowls are always chock-full, I’m wondering if anyone ever eats the candy or, if they do, where the refill candies come from.   My theory is that Marriott has merged with all the old-school grandmothers of the world.  You know, the ones whose hard candy is always either soft or shaped like a ribbon…

Oohh… the scene in The Stand where Ed Harris quotes Yeats and then shoots himself in the head is coming up.  Must dash…

Sorry about having not mastered the Snipping Tool (my 2nd favorite ‘tool”), but if you click on this photo you’ll learn that Alexa “absolutely looooooooooooves animals.”

I too love animals.  Au jus.

1. You get out late on a holiday-weekend Friday because your boss needs to talk to you about his groin…  Avec Visuals.

Answer:  1.

Sorry, no photos.

Tra la la la la, David Thorne is brilliant… ha-ha-ha “Cats,” ha-ha-ha “Missy”… But wait, where will this link lead me?

I don’t get it.  Who would want such an…  ooooooohhhhh….

Remember your Safety Word(s), kids.  Mine are “There’s no fucking way.”

Talk about your captivated audience…

Here’s another fun product “Not Recommended for Solo Play…”

“And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”

For three years I have anticipated the day when you move into my closet so that I may dress you up in brown corduroy and feed you small bits of sandwich in a way that wouldn’t be weird at all.  I understand that you too have this event scheduled in Outlook, but that you have been busy building a nest egg so that I may quit my job and  provide un-weird care for you around the clock.

However, since seeing how puffy your hair was in that Scott Pilgrim promo I watched last week, I am considering rescinding my offer of shelter and affection.

It is with pure selflessness that I recommend you rectify the hair situation soon.  A life of regret is not worth living, my friend, and if I don’t hear from you soon, I am going to install a shoe rack in the area of my closet hitherto cordoned off for you.

Yours sincerely,

Bellamy Desmond

Ladies, let’s fess up:  showing cleavage can be both lucrative and entertaining.

However, there are times – albeit few – when being ogled just doesn’t work to our advantage, and we don’t always have time to change outfits.  For those moments, there is Cami Secret.

Dad-in-law had one too many martinis?  Uh-oh!  But no; one quick scurry into the in-laws nautical themed bathroom and a speedy attachment of the Cami Secret kept tucked in your jeans pocket and voila!  Demure daughter-in-law shames Dad into feeling like a dirty old man.

Being stared down by a trio of feminists on their way to a Birkenstock convention?  One quick adjustment to your Cami Secret and you’re instantly talking about men being pigs and how having a sense of humor hurts the Woman’s Movement.

Chaperoning a group of men wearing one-piece orange jumpsuits?  Thanks, Cami Secret!

Frog Legs Buyer Beware:  You’re in Epping, New Hampshire.   There’s a kid crouched by a mud puddle with a hammer*, an industrial sized tube of cling wrap, and a pricing gun.

*Normally, a sling-shot would be utilized, but rubber band/stick technology has yet to be adopted in NASCAR land.

Offal Buyer Beware:  It’s awful.  Knock yourself out.

Bon appetite.

“Home, home again.  I like to be here with my Milla Residence Evil Trilogy…”

Seriously… I would….

Lounging in bed at 6:45 am drinking leftover Chook; and no, I don’t think that this is indicative of a problem…

Here’s a scene:

On an elevator in a parking garage with Hecubus, a woman, and the woman’s 3 year-old daughter.  The little girl is gazing up at me from her carriage (I know, a 3 year-old in a carriage…really, that’s necessary?) holding out her obviously brand new and beloved doll:

Me:  Wow, you have an American Girl doll!  She’s beautiful.

Mother and Daughter beam.

Hecubus:  Is that what she is?

Me:  What, you didn’t know that?

Mother and I share a ‘You Silly Man’ moment.

Little Girl:  I dress her up!

Hecubus:  That’s funny; she (indicating me) dresses me up.

Long, awkward silence during which Mother and I are horrified and Hecubus slowly recognizes his error.

And now, more photos from yesterday (Marcoux, if you’re reading this, we have found your soul mate):

Hecubus thinks that she was really toting rifles in her guitar case.  I was impressed by her velveteen corset and her ability to live off of the free samples at Whole Foods whilst her dog guards her “guitar.”

Independent hot-chick avec dog aside, Portland really does have an inordinate amount of homeless twenty-somethings.  My advice to them:  if you’re going to panhandle, you should probably change out of your Gap gear.  Seriously, I’m not giving my spare change to some lazy, spoiled bitch with a wardrobe nicer than my own.  Finance your crack habit by whoring, like the rest of us.

No Novare Res this time… it didn’t open until 3:00, which is far too late for Hec & Bell.  Who are these people, vampires?

The Day Thus Far:  no lox for breakfast – but plenty of beaver (and Hec working remotely), cruising Whole Foods for Chook (and Hec working remotely), checking-out the vibrator display at Condom Sense (and Hec working remotely), duck sliders at The Salt Exchange (and Hec working remotely), cosmos with a cougar (and Hec drinking Oban), and then… a nap.  Awake again, I’m drinking Chook and Hec is checking the functionality of the porn cable whilst munching on a baguette.

So mini-break… successful so far.

The bad news:  the release of Residence Evil:  Afterlife has been pushed back until September 10^th, which means there will be no Milla in 3-D for me this weekend.  Damn it.

The good news:  TEOTWAWKI survival, not just for carnivores anymore: