Trapped In Puter Hell

I'm not particularly good with being without my stuff. I love my stuff. Materialistic? You know... not really. I am a firm believer in saving, and in being responsible, and in priorities.

But I love my stuff!

SO for a nerd like me, being at my brother's nice little house on the beach for a few days, watching his rotten little dog Winston, is not a peaceful get-away. It's torture. I have to use somebody else's computer to access the internet unless I trot off to a hot spot. I'll certainly survive, but it sucks.

I like MY computers. They have MY bells and whistles and little quick-tricks installed, dammit. It is a nice reminder of how much I rely on these things. Recently having a laptop stripped, having to re-install many of my little darlings, I am more appreciative. I'm also glad I back stuff up regularly.

Pays to be anal sometimes. Shut up, you're not funny.

Anyway, it does suck, but the other night two idiots who thought the dunes (site of more local deflowerings than any limo fleet on earth) were a great and private place to get it on. They noticed how they have nice hollows and rises. They did not, apparently, notice how all the houses on the lip of the dunes are two stories or more, have upstairs decks, and very often feature telescopes.

So the neighbors and I got a free show, anyway. Hasn't been a total loss. Though I will worry about that young man's backside for a while. I doubt he paused to apply sunscreen to it.

What is Sexy?

The "Sexiest Man Alive" for the year (apparently sexy has an expiration date) is Matt Damon. Ok. I was not consulted in the voting process.

I find men over 40, slightly rough around the edges, perhaps overly cultured-- yet barely restraining an inner barbarian, smart, strong, with a beautifully made body (not necessarily muscle-bound) to be sexy. A deep voice? Umm... yes. A somewhat overbearing stature? Ohhh... makes me want to aggravate him til he kisses me very hard and then looks completely bewildered by the act. Someone who can quote Shakespeare but would not be caught dead playing one of his roles. Someone who can afford a Maserati but drives a truck.

My absolute ideal? He's in his early fifties. Dark... greying... bronze eyes that make your toes curl. He's arrogant in that way you can't hate and has a voice that's deep, cultured, and rich, but it snags at the edges under just the right circumstances. He's smart, smooth, but occasionally trips on the bottom stair. He got a dog on purpose but rescued a one eyed cat because he's a good man. He hates when people find out he secretly loves the cat, too. He'll slip the leash on his temper at the drop of a hat, but can't stand to see a child in pain. He looks like he spends all his time at black-belt karate tournaments, but he spends most of it (lately) in front of the PSP3 he got for his birthday. (Oh, but he does have a black belt.) He has shoulders that can bear the weight of the world, a tired child, an overwhelmed friend, or a pair of wings.

Three guesses.



Matt Damon? Nice kid. What's your point, again?