So, I normally don’t do these kinds of things with Randomness entries. But so I don’t get blamed for getting your ass written up at work, if you want to know what I mean by “celebrity skin”, how ’bout you check out the next page. There’s also non-NSFW stuff there, if you give a shit about it. And if you were wondering, yes, I like seeing a hot boy tied up. Don’t know if he’s a “celebrity”, but when he looks like that and is in a bind, does it matter?
I recently discovered a brand-spanking new site to perpetuate my lecherous side: Famous Skin on Tumblr. Case in point: a nude that, if I was the internet, would have broke me for the night…
That’s my 2014 Top Crush Object of the Year/Human Equivalent of “Gawwd Dayum!” Keanu Reeves by the way. An old pic of him, but still. And damn. I didn’t expect to see that, even though I was, while browsing through the site’s archives, hoping to see something of him. It’s one of those rare instances where my hopes turn into dreams come true.
Now you’d think that with something like that, I should just stop it here, go to bed with that image in my head, and make like Vanessa Del Rio with him in my dreams. But there are some other pics that are also delectable, and I’d show them to you, but, at the risk of turning this entry into fap city for lovers of full-frontal male nudes, here are the more explicit faves of mine linked, and a couple of “softer” pics below. You are so welcome, dear.
You know what sucks ass? Getting pulled over by the cops over something minuscule that you think won’t be seen by the cops, but they were there anyway and you get stopped by them. Happened to me this past Saturday, for accidentally driving past a stop without stopping. And this was in a residential neighborhood that has seen much worse than what I did. And yet I get pulled over for it. The officer was nice enough to give me a slap on the wrist as opposed to a ticket, but even if I did a ticket, I’d probably do my best to do him to get out of it. That cop was fine as hell. Yeah, he would be a total asshole for writing me up (the 2nd time in five months, by the way, if it happened, so you know damn well that I’m doing my damndest to be careful!), but, gawd, that was a looker that if I was desperate…
The Camaro that broke down on me a month ago is up-and-running again. But the way I now have to start it is so ghetto. I have to really fire up the ignition, then step on the gas to get everything running. (And if you think that sounded simple, it actually isn’t.) Oh well, it came back just in time for me to take a joy ride on a rare Saturday off from work that I had this past weekend.
I drove up to Sacramento, a city that I haven’t been to in months. And every time I go there, I do my best to pay a visit to the best adult store in Nor-Cal: the Gold Club Boutique in Rancho Cordova. I swear, it’s the Super Target of adult stores. They got practically every naughty thing you want. They also had a display for all things 50 Shades of Garbage, so that doesn’t count as one of the naughty things. (And I couldn’t help but see a line over one of their posters that said that all their sex toys were “approved” by the “book’s” joke-of-an-author. That right there is a red flag. That author doesn’t look like she would use any of those toys, much less knows how to power up a vibrator. I doubt she even knows where her clitoris is. If she did, those “books” would not have existed in the first place, because she would know how a real orgasm feels, thus experiencing great sex for a change.)
I also smirked at a few kids that looked like first-timers-evah at an adult store/strip club (next door to the shop is a strip club), and cringed when I saw a Playboy special issue featuring the work of Terry Richardson. How fucking reductive can you get? If you need visual definitions for “basic” or “predictable”, look no further than the work of Creepy Richardson. (And to think I once thought there was an edge to his work. Shame on me!) I miss the days when Playboy had real photographers shoot for them, as well as when real celebrities posed for them, not D-minus listers like Azalea Banks.
THAT’S what I’m talking about!
All-in-all, I enjoyed my time in Sac-town. Will be going back there, and soon, since they got an IKEA there, and I need another one of those hanging closet shelves that I can only get at IKEA.
It will be 10 years this April that I have last traveled by plane. I’ve never been enthused over flying for travel. Partly due to my fear of being in a plane that may determine my fate in life, to say the least, and also because I’m so used to driving. I can actually afford to take a flight to somewhere nice (thank you, sexy bargain deals of Groupon!), but I choose not to. So you know damn well that I’m clueless over flight shit like what I’m allowed to pack, what’s prohibited on flights, how many bags I can carry, etc.
Because I can be a total sports slut, here’s a new division of The Randomness I’d like to call…
I know this is old news, but I heard that LA Angels pitcher Josh Hamilton relapsed from his former addiction to cocaine. I bring this old shit up because I like to think that he probably relapsed because his wife dragged him to go see that 50 Shades of Garbage movie. I’d relapse too if my partner dragged me to see that kind of shit.
Speaking of baseball, another of my favorite Tumblr sites is counting down the days to Opening Day.
Hahaha the NFL using the Chris Borland early retirement story to puff themselves up as this “safer” game. Like the game was safe in the first place. Kiss my ass, Goodell. I still won’t buy what you’re selling.
Let’s take a moment to laugh at the Eastern Conference of the NBA. There are three teams (as of today) that have losing records that may also make it to the playoffs this year. Awww, top-seeded Atlanta is on a three-game skid? The Lakers would kill for a streak like that!
I’ve never been crazy over college basketball; consequently, I’m not crazy over March Madness. The bracket/tournament thing, though, has inspired me to create my own kind of tournament. I got a bracket in my head for Sexiest Male Athletes Evah! My Final Four involves Sidney Crosby, Rafael Nadal, Michael Morse, and Madison Bumgarner. Screw the madness–I’d rather be horny in March.
Speaking of Morse…
A Happy Hot Birthday to him. It was yesterday, actually. And, yes, I never miss an opportunity to showcase him here for my viewing pleasure. I still wish he didn’t leave the Giants, though. Whatever his “38 special” is, I’d like to have it. ❤ ❤
And finally, adios to two-time MVP of the NBA Steve Nash. The Lakers did their best to win you a ring…but you arrived five years too late. I’ll remember him best during his time with the Phoenix Suns…as well as his short stint impersonating a late 90s boy band member with his bleach blond locks.