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Random Musings ...
The current FunEd.com online course listings contain this jewel under
"Relationships" - 68 Things For Singles To Do Besides Go To Bars. And so I'm thinking ... they couldn't come up with just ONE more? In defense of bars, I'd like to
say that I personally much prefer the "bar scene" - the only reason I hang out here is because the bars close at 2, and the meat counter at Tom Thumb doesn't open until 7. So this is how I get in my other five hours a day of meat inspection. Sometimes I get tired of inspecting, so I'll occasionally play games. I enjoy playing online games, such as "Count the Cliches", in which I search profiles for phrases like "friends first"; "or so I've been told"; and
my favorite, "no game players". Sometimes I play "The Dating Game", where I try to guess, "Exactly how old IS that photo? And for bonus points: "How many pixels have been altered?" [Riddle: How is a total eclipse like a glamour shot?] For cerebral stimulation, I'll play "Seriously Susan" in which I score profiles, and responses to mine, on a scale from
"Appreciates Frivolous Yet Humorously Witty and Distinctive Random Musings" to
"Deadly Serious, Bring Money, Pecs and a Rock". (Score to date: 4 - all the rest) Today, the I'ds of August, marks the one year anniversary of a memorable first date - I got rear-ended, there was a fire at the restaurant, and the film broke three-quarters of the way through "There's Something About Mary". So I guess I'm just feeling a bit romantically retrospective.
The Sunday paper awaits. Now where's that JC Penney ad . . .
The Pentultimutt Renaissauce Man
I've re-written my profile to better deflect what you gals want. My humidity sometimes gets the best of me, but I can tell you that I'm the real thing, the whole nine enchiladas, the Pentultimutt Renaissauce Man. You want to snuggle by the fire, walk on the beach, hold hands down the Home Depot isles? Ladies, I'm a walking, talking Hallmark card - just call me Cliches R Me! I'm comfortable in everything from cut-offs to tennis shorts, t-shirts to sleep shirts, sneakers to sandles. And everything in between. Physically, (blush) my body speaks for itself, grammarically and punctuationwise - I can be a parenthesis, a question mark, an occasional exclamation point (ah, those were the days!), with a decent split infinitive and dangling participle (Yeah, baby - you know what I'm talking about ... YEAH!). I'm keen on working out, I always enjoy it when things work out. My friends will tell you, "Yeah, I know him." And drug free? I'm as generic as they come. And I'm so open-minded you can look in one ear and see anything you want out the other. I may not be a goremay cook, but I could eat every day, and oftentimes do. You like to travel? So do I - I've been around the block a few times, and even out of the neighborhood twice. I'll try anything once, except some things I know I wouldn't like. I expose my sensitive side - I don't cry at the drop of a hat, but I'll scream quickly at the top of my lungs when I've Weedeatened my ankle or hammered my thumb into a fence post. And to complete the package, I'm musically reclined, expecially when I go to bed with the radio on. So if your looking for the hole kit and caboose, there's no need to look any farther - "Hold on to the Dijon /Leave the Pesto in the pan / Come and marinade with me /The Pentultimutt Renaissauce Man!"
Green Eyes and Gams
The question is, "What do I like?"
Not where I hike, or go ride my bike,
But what I say I want to see when I describe the girl for me.
She's of a size that's easy to hold
She doesn't cry, "Ohhhh! This soup is COLD!"
And as for the fact that I referred to "girl"
She doesn't moan and groan and try to whirl
A frying pan upon my head
Or rip my limbs to tatters
Because she gets that it's what's inside
And not the label that matters.
Her hair is shorter - no, it's not longer.
And it's her attitude that's so much stronger
Than the average lemming who's always joining
The Junior League or some other conforming.
She'll be a blond or black or brown or red
But I confess when it comes to her head
Grey matter matters between her ears
Much moreso than the hair that appears.
She doesn't smile - but is always smiling
And those green eyes can't keep from compiling
The sights of what is there to see
And iNtuiting all that just might be.
Ah, she's got those legs and she's got game
And did I say those legs are NOT the same
As the trunks that hold the mighty oak
But long and shapely - like a bottle of Coke.
I could go on, and on, ad infinitum
Describing each and every item.
But here I'll stop because I fear
With any more words, the big flush I'll hear.
So thanks for your patience
And listening, ma'ams,
To indulge my idle dreamings
Of green eyes and gams.
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