A little coffee talk

Another lovely Sunday morning spent drinking a gallon of coffee, loaded with milk that will no doubt make me ill later and a plethora of chemical sugar substitute that probably has caused cancer in lab rats worldwide. In one of those moments when the 5 year old companion to the group excuses himself to the bathroom, the sentence is happily uttered, "I love porn."

We have no more than 2 minutes before said child will return and the conversation has to cease.

"But I like my porn with some substance and plot around it."

"Depends on the day for me. Sometimes I just want to get to the point."

"I"m a visual girl, I don't like to read my porn."

"Yeah, the older I get I like it to have some substance, but you're right some days you just don't care."

And there you have it... to the soundtrack of some obscure alterna-folk band... the Sunday morning porn talk.

If nothing else, this will direct (again) those searching for porn star Nikki Blonde back to this blog.

Obscure references and prostitution

Today found me staring down some old, obscure references that quite honestly, I can't bear alone.

#1: Remember Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan? I don't even know how this one came up, all I know is that after my lunch hike in improper shoes, my knee hurt. Coincidence? I think not!

#2: Miss Cleo. Again, an obscure reference that suddenly appeared in conversation.

So, I brought up Heidi Fleiss... and it seems only appropriate with all the talk about the DC Madam. Ok, no one at work was discussing this; but I'm avidly reading about it. Mostly, because I find it fascinating that it is such a big deal. I have no problem with prostitution... and up until Miz Julia decided to retire and close up shop neither did anyone in DC. The hypocrisy is staggering. I have to say though, that I respect her for not giving up names. And you know the only reason names are wanted is for political positioning as the elections gear up.

Sex or Chocolate?

That be the question d'jour... it is a conversation that began with some peoples last week, continued through the weekend and landed today on one of my SparkPeople teams. Until today, I thought I was the anomoly; preferring sex (even mediocre sex) to chocolate.

Don't get me wrong, I do love a good piece of chocolate, but, um... it isn't choice number one.

And that's all you get today.

You don't say?

In a move that is pure Hollywood irony, screen writer Joe Eszterhas comes clean to say that sex in scripts doesn't sell. You may not recognize the name, but you might recognize the movies he's written: Basic Instinct, Basic Instinct II, Sliver, Flashdance, Showgirls... yeah, sex just doesn't sell.

Speaking of screenwriters, someone should tell the writers of tonight's episode of Bones that the following line belongs in the category of "things you should not and would not say to your boss: We just did it in the supply closet an hour ago. I couldn't he more pleased.

Yeah, sex just doesn't sell.