Priceless

The photo above has absolutely nothing to do with anything I have to say today. I just thought it was freaky.

This morning as I was getting ready for work, my neighbor came outside in her driveway, pulling her trash can to the curb. She was wearing a tight, sleeveless top and brown sweatpants.

This woman had her fourth baby just one month ago. Her FOURTH.

I was standing there, frozen, as I watched her walk down to the road, drop off the garbage can, and walk back to her house. She didn't look like she'd just had a baby. In fact, she didn't look like she'd EVER had a baby, not a single one. She looked great.

I stood there looking at her, then glancing at myself in the mirror, and then looking back at her again, wondering how in the hell she did that. She looks awesome. And me? Not so much.


It's nasty outside, warm and wet, and I need to either go to the gym at lunch or go running. I probably should do the running, but if it remains this nasty all morning then that would be one sticky run. I already sweat like Niagra Falls when I work out. I don't need 95 percent humidity to help me out with that.

BottleBlonde had commented that she was impressed that I was a runner. I used to be a runner. I'm more of a jogger now. Or really, more accurately, I'm a stumble-alonger. I stumble along for several miles until I reach the end. Then I stop. Not very impressive, really. I don't need to measure my times in minutes and seconds. I can just measure it in quarter hours.

Yeah, this run? Somewhere less than 15 minutes. And this other one, less than half an hour. I'll be back before "House" comes on. I guess I could measure my speed by TV shows, really. If I can leave the house when "Bones" is just starting and get back before "House", that might be about 6 miles, especially if I don't stop to talk to the neighbor who just had a baby and yet looks tighter than your average personal trainer.

So far, at our new house, I have met and talked to only 3 of my neighbors - the woman who just had a baby and looks totally baby-free, her husband, and the guy next door to my driveway who likes to go hunting. I saw his wife and waved to her, even joking once that it looked like she might need for me to come over and jump up and down in her trash can so she could shove more trash in there. But I haven't technically met her, with the "hello" and the handshake and all that.

The couple on the west side of our house, I've seen sitting and drinking beer on their back porch, but never spoken to. Our houses are so far apart that I can't just say "hi" to them without shouting, which would seem odd. So I just waved once. They waved back.

Oh, and on Halloween I met the woman who lives way down at the very end of the street, but even when she told me her name I couldn't quite understand her, so I don't know what it is. I don't recall how many kids were hers, because apparently in my neighborhood the mothers bunch their kids into gangs and send them out with one mother. And I didn't meet her husband, nor do I recall if she told me his name. But at least we met and she was nice.

The guy who lives behind me, across the street from the house with the wolves, he has a ladder that I need to borrow. But he once cut down 3 trees at the end of our yard which at the time belonged to the previous owner of our house. But they told us he'd done that and it made us mad, somehow. I got over it as soon as I saw that he had a ladder I need to use, but My Wife is still feeling violated, keeping a careful eye on our precious trees which shield us from the entire neighborhood behind us and allow us the illusion of being completely alone on our back porch. Anyway, I have yet to meet him. There's a small forest between us that makes it somewhat difficult and potentially hazardous to try to cross over and introduce myself. I need to clear out a path in there.

Also, our cat appears to have brought home some lovely poison ivy, which is now on My Wife, so there is an immediate need for me to get in there and root around until I find that shit so I can yank it up.

I don't know if "root around" means anything other than having sex in Australia or the UK, but here in the States it just means I need to go stomping through the brush.

Kate Beckinsale is in town filming a movie. It's called "Nothing But The Truth." An actress friend sent me an email about parts for extras. She got a role in it, which makes me both excited and jealous as hell. I hastily threw together an application, not having much idea what I was doing, and sent it in. I got no calls, though. My friend has been in some small independent films recently and so has both experience and an agent. She got hired to play a prisoner.


The only experience I have is a horrific karate movie I made in college, where I played a stick-fighting janitor who beat up two men using toilet plungers. The fight scene using toilet plungers was the whole motivation behind making the movie, actually.

And I have no agent. Why would I? I haven't acted in anything since I was in college.

Also, my friend is a 22-year-old part-time nude model, while I am ... not. There is always a role in every movie for a 22-year old female hottie. Not so much for me, though. Still, knowing that Kate Beckinsale is in town and my friend is working with her, while I could possibly meet her if only I had listened to my friend back when she was telling me about acting classes and agents and stuff, makes me crazy. I mean, how cool would it be to not only meet Kate Beckinsale, but to be in a movie with her?

Mighty cool indeed.

Federal agents have arrested another Memphis legislator for corruption. Meanwhile, Mary Winkler's right-hand-man, Leslie Ballin, is already in the news again handling another exciting case. If a single week goes by without him on the news defending some guilty-as-hell fucker, it's a miracle. Still, with publicity like that, the man doesn't need to pay for advertising. You'll never see a commercial for him during Wheel of Fortune. Anyone who might need his services already knows his name. He's better than Johnny Cochran.

So anyway, it's been rather comment-free here this week, so I wonder just how many people are around? If you're out there, give me a shout-out. And by shout-out, I mean comment so I know you're still alive.