This…is all I need now for those lonely nights…
My. God. Could you believe this guy is now 50? That may be an old picture of him, but this picture alone makes me want to get into that picture and commit the highest (or, in this case, the lowest) form of obscenity with him to where we redefine its meaning.
I was indifferent to Keanu for years, up until earlier this year, when I saw this handsome piece working at a Trader Joe’s that looked a bit like him. (I, too, wanted to ravage this TJ’s boy, but not only am I stupid-shit shy when it comes to sexy boys right in front of me, I also think twice when seeing a sexy boy. The actual question I ask myself: he doesn’t have an STD, does he?) Because of that, I was on a Keanu kick for a short while. It faded when I stopped seeing that TJ’s boy (I would have pursued him, but he worked in the Petaluma location; I work in Marin County, and that’s a far-ass drive up to there!). But leave it to Dlisted to give me one of the most gorgeous, stroke-worthy pics I’ve ever seen outside of Club magazine. Who was I to turn a blind eye to him back when he was making big movies 10 years ago? (Dammit, Johnny Depp! Your hotness back then was too much to where you made me ignore another hot thing that was happening!) Would I want today’s Keanu? Maybe not. But, oh baby, goddammit, do-me-right-now, that picture…that fucking picture!!!
(That pic is also for Sarah J., who I think still follows me here and reads my drivel, and has a thing for Keanu, too. 😉 )
OK, now onto boring-ass randomness…
I didn’t realize writing a query letter is a lot tougher than editing my story. Summarizing your 70,000+ story into two, short paragraphs while making it sound appealing but not totally revealing is quite the challenge. Thank goodness I live in these times of the Internets, where I can see how to properly construct a query letter. (As much as I’d like to go back to how times were 20 years ago, if I sent a query letter to publishers or agents then, without knowing how to write up one ’cause I don’t know where to go, I’d probably be rejected to high hell, and be faced with the future of massaging bodies till I’m 60.) All thanks to Agent Query and the Query Shark for the help…and, in the Query Shark’s case, humorous snark.
Talk about a case of earning something nice that you didn’t deserve in the first place: so, Monday night, I was talking to my friend/co-worker after work. A guy that works at a restaurant next to my job approached us for some car battery help. Friend couldn’t help because she had a really old car, and mine’s is an electric hybrid. Another co-worker of mine was in his car and we referenced the restaurant guy to talk to him. Those two worked it out, and then restaurant guy came back to my friend and me to–get this–offer us a bottle of wine. A vintage 2012 Chardonnay. My friend doesn’t drink, the guy that helped him with his car battery doesn’t like wines, so guess who’s got that bottle? As if I could not be any more spoiled in this life.
I don’t think I’ll be walking through downtown Berkeley for a long time. Maybe I’ll return when walking with cell phones in your damn face and wearing skinny pants becomes a federal offense. ‘Cause that was what made the walk hell when I was there. Granted, it was last Saturday night, and I was there to redeem a Groupon for a pizzeria that was going to expire the day after. The upside to my time there was that the pizza was great, and it only costs me $2 for three big slices. Thank you, Groupon and Blondie’s Pizza!
Does this cover seem right to you?
And will I be banned from all SF Giants’ home games for finding this a tad bit funny? (Those who’ve followed the team the past four years should know what I’m talking about.)
Whenever I watch the KNBR 680 broadcasts on my local sports channel, I notice that there is some psycho psychic lady that calls in almost every week. She always talks about Tim Lincecum and goes all-out on his astrological portrait to the radio guys, saying shit like “he’s a Gemini…Mercury is in retrograde for him…he’s a Virgo rising…” Geez, and I thought I was obsessed with Timmy when my crush was major for him three years ago. Well, at least I now know what his “rising sign” is…but since she’s a psycho psychic, she’s probably as believable as those who think Timmy will be on the post-season roster for the Giants. I still adore the Freak a bit, but, ooh, I couldn’t resist going there.
I better be busy at work tomorrow. Fridays at work has become unusually slow the past three weeks. And to think I added that day to my work schedule in hopes for making more dough. I blame the bloated, two-faced bitch also known as our “assistant manager” (referred while I bite my tongue), who snitched on one of our front desk staff for smoking pot, which got her fired. The same girl whom two-faced bitch once got her pot from. (You don’t know how many times I question where exactly I’m working at these days. Am I in a spa, or in a ghetto high school?) When that girl got fired, I swear, we have not been as busy as we should be. It’s like as if a hex got put on us when she left. Karma is getting to two-faced bitch and I hope it gets her fired soon.
OK, I have to get happy again. Must…scroll back up and see that picture….