J Under the Covers

On a Break

2008-02-22T08:09:00.003-05:00

That's what I'm calling it for now, a break. It's not that I want to quit the blog, I just am not drawn to it at the moment. I need to go away and come back when I really want to post something, not do it just because I don't want to lose the few readers I have left.

You all are great, and I appreciate the folks who've continued to come by and say hi even when I haven't had much to say. I'm sure I'll be back sometime, but for now, I need to just mentally release myself from the obligation to keep up on here. I know you all understand.

HNT Under the Wire

2008-02-14T20:05:00.002-05:00

I ALMOST didn't post anything today. I just had no ideas, no real desire to be bothered. But then I noticed that I'd worn red to the gym, so I could sneak in a post AND follow today's theme, so there you go. The streak remains alive, somewhere north of 100 consecutive HNT posts. If only my shirt said "69" instead of "65", then I could giggle every time I put it on.

Uplift

2008-02-08T09:59:00.001-05:00

I know it's not Monday, but I had to post this song today. Just hit play on the video and let the music play--the video itself is just some fan art, but the song is amazing.

It's "#41" by the Dave Matthews Band, and I've been getting more and more obsessed with it over the last few months. It goes all the way back to the Crash album from 1996, but I'd honestly never heard the song till last year. I listen to my local radio station online (www.wbru.com), and during the commercial breaks, they play random MP3s that the jocks queue up instead of the ads, and this was one of them (along with some great old Radiohead and Tool). It's what you'd call a "deep track", not a single, but I don't know why. I absolutely love it. It's one of those songs that just transports me if I close my eyes and listen, which I was doing last night during the cooldown of my workout, and it was perfect. Hope somebody else out there enjoys it half as much as I did.

HNT Pillowmate

2008-02-07T08:17:00.000-05:00

Somehow last night, the Tot and I ended up like this for a while. She was feeling needy or something. It felt okay at first, sort of like wearing a warm hat to bed. Eventually my tossing and turning got to be too much for her, and she moved around to settle on the side of my pillow. I think we both slept pretty well, largely because the Lab decided to not climb up on the bed last night. Sharing a king-size bed with three little dogs works; sharing a king-size bed with three little dogs AND a big black lab means someone is going to wake up with some serious cramps.

Now go see other Half-Nekkid People.

HNT Newbie

2008-01-30T20:09:00.000-05:00

Look what we got!

Our latest adoptee has been with us almost two weeks. She's a beautiful black Lab, somewhere between 13 and 15 years old, fortunately very very healthy. She used to have a decent home (although they fed her cheap food and table scraps), but recently her people were told they couldn't keep her at her new apartment, and their first attempt at placing her with a new owner resulted in that poor girl spending eight months living in a small chain link pen with no house, no shelter, nothing but muddy ground to sleep in. Needless to say, when we saw her on Craigslist, we knew she needed to come live here.

She's an absolute love, so happy and perky. Her tail almost never stops wagging, much to the chagrin of the little dogs who are frequently smacked in the face with it. But they're all getting along great (we have a very well-adjusted pack going here), and the cats love her too in their own way. She looks so happy to be in a warm safe place and is more than happy to let us smooch all over her big shiny head. She loves hopping up on our nice big couch to watch TV with us or wait patiently for us to come home, and she's got a reserved spot on the cushy bench at the foot of our bed. The only negative so far is that she's got a bad poop-eating habit, but our vet gave us a few ideas for how to discourage that, so now the dogs are enjoying pineapple on their food (don't ask, I'm just hoping it works).

As for the odd fact that you can see through the top of my head in this picture, I guess I moved before the picture finished. No smartass comments about me being empty-headed. Okay, go ahead, you can make 'em.

Now go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Musical Monday Crush

2008-01-28T15:43:00.000-05:00

Okay, so my long weekend could have been better. I made a stupid mistake Wednesday night trying to get something for work out of the way, which caused an overnight program to seriously fuck up, making a lot of work for me the next day. Then something came up this morning and I had to run into the office for an hour or so. Somewhere in between all that, I did manage to sleep in and rest up a bit, but I don't feel entirely refreshed. Oh well, I'll just try again in a few months.

Today's video is the second single from teen phenom band Paramore, "Crushcrushcrush". Sure they're a little trite and poppy, but the song is really good and I love the 80s throwback and Hayley Williams is just plain cute (and legal).

HNT Exhaling

2008-01-23T20:21:00.000-05:00

That's me exhaling at the start of a little mini-vacation. No special destination, just a nice long five-day weekend to sleep late and do a whole lot of nothing. It's long overdue, since I haven't really taken a vacation since... well, I honestly don't remember when. And due to circumstances beyond my control, it'll probably be several months before I'm able to take a real vacation. So I'm striking while my boss is feeling magnanimous and squeezing in whatever relaxation I can. The dogs will be pleasantly surprised when I don't leave tomorrow or Friday morning, and then will probably be tired of me by Saturday, mainly because they won't get to crawl into my warm spot in the bed after I leave. But too bad for them, I deserve it.

Now go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Local Musical Monday

2008-01-21T10:35:00.000-05:00

I've been violated. Someone got ahold of my password for World of Warcraft and on Friday night, logged into my account and took my main character on an unauthorized adventure, selling/stealing almost all my accumulated wealth and items and leaving me completely fucked up. Almost two months worth of in-game effort shot to hell. I still don't know how they got my password, my virus scans turned up clean. The game company said they can probably restore most of my stuff after they investigate it, but it's still very unsettling. I know it's just a game, but really, it's a hobby which I enjoy immensely and have invested a good deal of leisure time into. It's the type of game where you're continually progressing towards a goal, and to have all that effort wiped out by some asshole in a matter of hours is very upsetting. Fortunately, Mrs. J totally understands, since she once forgot to save her Super Mario game after finishing a particularly bad level. So she commiserated with me all weekend and helped me get over my shock and dismay (that's no way to start your weekend). So now I impatiently await the results of the investigation and hope to get back most of my lost work.

For today's musical selection, we have the new single "Goodnight" by the band Zox. They're local boys from Providence, so I like to give them props whenever they have something new. Hope you likey.

Two Years

2008-01-17T10:22:00.001-05:00

This week marks my two-year Blogiversary. It doesn't feel like it, mainly because I'm been less and less interested in carrying on here. Maybe it's a phase, maybe I'm just over it, whatever it is, I just haven't had a lot of interest in writing, or even reading blogs, lately. No offense to all you lovely people--it's not you, it's me.

In spite of my current malaise, I have really enjoyed blogging here tow last two years, talking to different people, finding my voice, and of course, showing my ass a lot. I do cringe a bit when I go back and reread my first few posts, but then I remember that the whole point of blogging IS to find your voice, and it doesn't happen right out of the gate. The journey is as important as the result, even more so. It just happens that right now, my journeys are elsewhere and not so much here.

I keep debating about whether I want to just quit the blog and call it a day, and I keep ending up deciding not to because I don't like endings. I hate when my favorite shows end, never to be seen again. I'm already dreading the end of the Dark Tower series of books, and I still have 3 to go. As far this blog, what I really don't want to see end is my small part in this community of groovy people. Even though I'm not the most active blogger, I like feeling like I'm part of the circle, part of this dynamic, weird little group of people who bare their assses every Thursday and say nice things to each other. It's more than just HNT, it's the feeling of having found that there are other people out there who share some of my thoughts, feelings, beliefs, etc. So I won't pull the curtain down, although the window may get foggy and neglected from time to time.

Oddly enough, I have not missed a single HNT since I started the blog two years ago. I may have done 1 or 2 reruns, but every single Thursday, I have done an HNT post. So it seems both bizarre and fitting that today, I'm not really doing one. I didn't have any great ideas last night or today, and honestly, I don't feel like being bothered (Mrs. J HATES it when I say that). But because I do care, I'll give you links for a few of my favorites from the last two years. Hope you find something you haven't seen before, and thanks again for coming by.

HNT Waning Days

HNT Pumpkin Fucker

HNT Hathead

HNT From Behind

HNT In My Eye

A Very Special HNT

HNT Ride in the Country

HNT Healed

HNT Marked

HNT Making the Bed

2008-01-10T08:21:00.000-05:00

My oldest cat is really weird about us making the bed. She's the one who spends much of her day hiding from the world in her pillow fort, the one who doesn't like other people, the one who runs away at the tiniest little sound. But for some reason, whenever I change the sheets on our bed, she becomes a totally different cat. As soon as she sees (or hears) me strip the sheets off, she hops up and begins rolling around on the mattress pad. I have a theory that it reminds her of the old days in our first apartment when she was our only pet--we had a big soft white down comforter back then, and she slept on the bed with us every night. In fact, that same comforter became one of her beds in our new house. So I think the vast expanse of plushy whiteness offered by the mattress pad draws her in.

But what's really weird is that even after I get the sheet on the bed, she STILL rolls around like a drunken fool. She won't even get up as I put the top sheet down, which often produces a nicely made bed with a kitty-shaped lump in the middle. She rolls and flops and twists and turns, talking the whole time in that big rusty voice of hers. It's quite amusing, and actually makes me not hate changing the sheets. This weekend, I took a minute to snuggle her and take advantage of her good mood.

Now go see other Half-Nekkid People.

What the hell was I going to write about?

2008-01-07T18:41:00.000-05:00

I swear I thought of something earlier today to post along with today's song, but my mind is like a... something with holes in it. I'm sure I'll remember it as soon as I click Publish Post. And then something shiny will distract me, and by the time I think to come back and update it, I'll have forgotten again.

Yesterday I tried Guitar Hero for the first time. I had been reluctant prior to this for two reasons--first, I'm supposed to be learning to play the REAL guitar but I haven't been, and second, I'm prone to run out and buy something as soon as I find out how cool it is. But I had the opportunity yesterday, a couple young friends were willing to let me try, so I gave it a shot. And I did okay. I hit 91% of the notes in Foghat's "Slow Ride" on my first try, but "Story of my Life" by Social Distortion kicked my ass. Much worse was me trying to stand up out of the kids' gaming chair. I made old-man noises and cursed my creaky joints. Talk about feeling old. No, I haven't run out and bought my own copy yet, but mainly because I'm geekily researching which version comes with the Foo Fighters songs I'm so desperate to rock out too. I promise that if I cave in and buy it, there will be pictures.

If you haven't already checked out Radiohead's new album, In Rainbows, you should, even if you don't think you like Radiohead. They're so fucking brilliant and eclectic, you're bound to find at least one song you like. And you have to respect them giving a big middle finger to the record companies and releasing the album online for whatever fans wanted to pay. This video might give you a bit of vertigo, but it's the fantastic first single off the album, "Jigsaw Falling Into Place".

HNT Bye Bye Belly

2008-01-02T19:49:00.001-05:00

To paraphrase Nora Ephron, I feel bad about my belly. I've really let it get away from me the last several months. It could be worse, but I've had enough. Mrs. J and I began our New Year today by heading to the gym together (I haven't been in almost a month), and we're determined to start making slow and steady improvements in our lifestyle so we can age more gracefully.

My problem is control. I have none. I love food. I love my buffalo wings and fries and burgers and pasta and meatballs and grinders and pizza, not to mention beer and wine. And Mrs. J has even gotten me hooked on ice cream after years of resisting ("Ben & Jerry's Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream" for me, please). And since I've always eaten my food way too fast, I always consume two or more portions in less time than it takes a normal person to eat one. Just a little is never enough for me.

I know, I'm in much better shape than many, and my hill is not nearly as difficult to climb as some of you may have. It used to be mostly vanity, wanting to remain young and trim and somewhere near buff. But the last couple years, I've learned that it's more, that my cholesterol is pretty high, and I really don't want to start breaking down as I approach 40. So it's back to the gym and Whole Foods, and hopefully in the next six months, I can make a dent in that thing you see hulking up there.

Now go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Favorite HNT

2007-12-26T18:38:00.000-05:00

It's time again to pick our favorite HNT, which always presents quite a conundrum for me, since I don't like picking just ONE favorite. So I won't, I'll pick a couple.

The post I'm proudest of this year isn't really an HNT, but I posted it in place of one on a very sad Wednesday. It was my tribute to our dear Ladybird, just a day after her death. As painful as that time was and even though it still makes me cry to reread that post, I'm as proud of that post as anything I've ever written in my life. Mrs. J and I have shared it with many people (out of the blog's context), and I've gotten such lovely responses on it, I'm so glad I took the time to record my thoughts about her.

I actually feel like I've taken quite a few good HNTs this year, lots of good nekkidness, but my favorites would have to be the ones of my tattoos. 2007 was not a stellar year for me, I felt like I was in a bit of a rut, and losing Lady put a shadow over the whole year, but one thing I really loved was breaking my tattoo cherry.

First came my portrait of Max, three rather painful sittings to get it just right, but there he is, my right-hand man forever.

Then a few months later, I went back and had a version of my wedding band applied permanently. Which was smart, because shortly after that, I lost my actual wedding band for several months (oddly, it turned up in the bottom of Mrs. J's jeans drawer). Now, I'm totally hooked and can't wait to get my next one (and the one after that and the one after that, etc, etc). Till then, I just live vicariously through LA Ink and London Ink (I don't watch Miami Ink, that guy's a dick).

I could keep picking more and more, but I'll stop there. Hope you enjoyed peeking in this year.

Merry Christmas, Really

2007-12-24T20:56:00.000-05:00

We just wrapped up a thoroughly delightful Christmas Eve spent with a new friend, nothing more than some delicious little dishes we whipped up this afternoon, a bottle of wine and some cocktails, and a bunch of dogs and cats enjoying themselves (we're dogsitting for two families this week). Throw in a roaring fire and the complete absence of anything resembling family obligations, and we're both quite content right now. Now I'm looking forward to a long night's sleep and several repeated viewings of "A Christmas Story" tomorrow on TBS.

Here's Schmoop enjoying the fire, and two of the cats enjoying their new gifts minutes after we put them down.

I think this song is one of the most beautiful Christmas songs I've ever heard. It's "The Gift" by Aselin Debison--I guess there are other versions, but I can't imagine they're even close. This girl has (or had when she recorded it) a beautiful pure voice, and she tells the story perfectly. Every time I hear it, it makes me cry a little. Not just because it's beautiful, but because I feel bad for the little girl Maria. I mean, this poor little orphan girl nurses this bird back to health, then offers it to the Baby Jesus on Christmas, and what does she get for thanks? The bird gets dragged up to heaven, and she's left alone, poor and by herself. Seems a little selfish of the Baby Jesus if you ask me. Least he could have done was mend the bird's wing and then let him go back to his friend Maria. Oh well, the song still beats that stupid "Christmas Shoes" song.

More Christmas Thoughts

2007-12-21T09:43:00.000-05:00

Thank you all for the very positive response to my Christmas recollections. It's always nice to share seemingly random thoughts and know that something resonates with someone else. To me, that's the really great about blogging--finding that little nugget of thought in someone else's writing that makes you feel validated.

So a few more things related to the upcoming holiday, a few of which I've borrowed from a meme I've seen floating around...

Like most folks, I have my favorite Christmas movies. "Christmas Vacation" is a reliable laugh, the last good thing Chevy Chase has done. "The Ref" (with Denis Leary) is our sleeper favorite--Mrs. J absolutely adores it, and it gets funnier every time you watch it. "Trading Places" (Eddie Murphy and Dan Ackroyd and Jamie Lee Curtis' boobs) is the one my brother and I used to watch every year together--it's not so much ABOUT Christmas but just set at Christmastime. That tradition died along with our friendship. But my favorite is "Prancer"--I love love love it. It always makes me cry a little. I first saw it flying a redeye back home from college for Christmas one year, and there was something about being cocooned in the plane, miles above the frozen Great Plains, watching this sweet small-town story, that just embedded it in my mind. Every time I watch it, I can feel that place and time again. And come on, it's SO cute!
Being a TV junkie, I rely on my favorite shows to help me get in the spirit. I always love the Saturday Night Live holiday episode, when they decorate the stage and all that, and they do great skits like Hanukkah Harry or D**k in a Box. And even though it's been on forever, I still love ER, and I look forward to their Christmas episode every year. After watching for 15 years, it feels like a real place to me, plus I've always thought it would be cool to live in Chicago, so I can live vicariously through them.
Speaking of places I'd like to live, Mrs. J and I have developed a probably highly over-romanticized perception of what England is like at Christmastime. Thank the movies over the last few years that have made it look so lovely and quaint (Bridget Jones, Love Actually, The Holiday), not to mention Gordon Ramsay's F-Word. I know I have a few English readers--is it really not that great?

More to come as my brain continues to churn...

Three Wishes (Not so much)

2007-12-19T18:54:00.000-05:00

I rarely break the HNT rules, but I just can't do this week's Three Wishes theme. I'm sorry to say, I just haven't spent enough time blogging or commenting this year to feel like I have any idea what to give anyone. It's been my choice, I just disconnected a little bit, it is what it is.

But I do wish a few things for EVERYONE who's dropped by this blog over the past year. Even though I may not reciprocate comments nearly as much as I should, I dearly appreciate all of you who come by and say hi, and your support over the months has meant a lot.

I hope we all have a year that's better than the last, one that brings us peace and love and satisfaction in our lives, one that makes feel more alive and more connected to the people and animals we care about, one that brings us a daily laugh and a weekly cry (they're both good for you). Most of all, I hope that a year from now, when we all sit down and reflect again, we can say "That was a pretty good fucking year."

Now since you're here, I thought I would start sharing some of my Christmas thoughts and recollections. I realized recently that most of this is only in my head, and at the rate I'm going, if I don't record it somewhere, it's going to disappear. It may not mean much to anyone else, but I'll be glad I wrote it down. In no particular order, I'm just going to start leaving some Christmas thoughts and memories here like so much tinsel. See if anything sparkles for you.

My saddest memory of Christmas is from I was maybe 8, and my dad bought a special gift for me, a little woodworking set. It wasn't a Santa gift, it wasn't a Mom-and-Dad gift, it was a gift JUST from my dad JUST for me, and he wanted to give it to me because I had been his little helper remodeling our family room and he was excited to share it with me. Well, I didn't realize that at the time, and being a selfish little jerk, I pouted and cried and told him I hated it. I wanted Legos or Star Wars toys instead. My mom told me later how disappointed my dad was. Since he was gone a couple years later, I never got to tell him how bad I've felt about that. My kid better never act that way towards me--she'll catch a smack upside the head.
Speaking of Legos, my favorite Christmas morning, from a toy perspective, was the year I got the super-duper Lego castle set. It was a big huge castle with a drawbridge and towers and little knights and horses and stuff. I was in dorky kid heaven for years with that thing. In fact, I still have all the pieces in a box in my basement, and I plan to use them to build a scale model of my house someday.
Most of the memories which come back to me at Christmastime are not of the actual Christmases themselves. For me, Christmas Day was always a letdown, even with the excitement of running to the tree to see what we got. For me, it was always more about the "season", the month of excitement and activity and traditions leading up to it. Once it got here, it was all over. What I remember now after 20 or 30 years are the times my mom would try to help me learn to play Christmas carols on our little electric piano, watching our favorite shows' Christmas episodes (for some reason, Taxi and Saturday Night Live remain my favorites), the time I bought my mom a hurricane lamp from a local artist and she cried (because she loved it), performing in the annual school show (that was me on tenor sax), working long nights at the record store with all the crazy people. That's what I miss now, the fact that there was so much STUFF going on the whole month that reminded you it was Christmastime. Now it's just stress at work, not enough money to buy presents and BAM it's all over.
Mrs. J is just now starting to understand my odd attachment to Christmas music, especially the bad kind. I realize now that it's all thanks to my mom and dad being squares. When I was a kid, we had 4 or 5 Christmas albums (yes, real vinyl), and all but one was an easy listening compilation of the 60s and 70s' best cheese--Percy Faith, Perry Como, Andy Williams, we had 'em all. The other one was Barbra Streisand, which we only put on when Mom insisted on it. But the other ones I loved! I would sit in front of the record player and put them on and play with the little Santas and tomtes (Swedish elves) and even the Nativity scene. There are still certain songs that evoke the image of the album jacket in my head whenever I hear them. It's for that reason that when December hits, my radio tuner flips from alternative rock to the all-Christmas channel, and why today I found myself humming along to Mantovani and Dean Martin in my office.

That'll do for now. I'll keep strolling down Memory Lane tomorrow.

Musical Tuesday

2007-12-18T11:42:00.001-05:00

So sue me, I'm a day late. Took me a while to find this chestnut. I like to listen to the all-Christmas stations for a few hours a day this time of year, even though you tend to hear the same songs over and over. But I find my tolerance for mediocre (or even plain BAD) music is much greater when it comes to Christmas music. How else to explain the fact that I'm fine with Karen Carpenter repeatedly singing "...I'm Christmasing with you..." (Mrs. J pointed out in the car that "that isn't even a verb!")? Another groovy oldie I keep hearing is Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers singing "A Christmas to Remember". As far as I can tell, it's about two strangers who hook up at a ski lodge and spend their Christmas vacation skiing, drinking and screwing. Not everybody's cup of tea (or cider) but you have to give them credit for selling it.

I'd never seen this video before, and was wonderfully surprised by its level of cheese. Not only do they both look great at the height of their early 80s fame (have you SEEN Kenny lately? The plastic surgery is frightening!), but for some reason, they're surrounded by mannequins instead of the requisite scene-filler actors on most Christmas specials. As I like to say, good times.

Tick Tock

2007-12-16T12:21:00.000-05:00

Holy mother of fuck, Christmas is just a week away! I knew it would happen--I posted about it just a few days ago. Actually, I guess it was two weeks ago. How the hell did that happen? I haven't really DONE much of anything those two weeks. I've been mostly hibernating at work, just watching our website kick ass (yeah, that's my code makin' big money out there) and reading Wikipedia. Of course, days like the last few make me wish the time would fly by--all this freakin' snow and ice, who needs it?

But I don't like the idea of constantly waiting for time to move on and get to the next thing. Doesn't seem very much like living in the moment. Last night we slowed down for a few hours--lit a nice fire, made a yummy dinner, drank a bottle of wine and played with the dogs. I need to remember to do that more and not just wait for the day to end and the next one to get here.

I'm planning to spend the entire day today in bed, watching homeowner porn (HGTV and TLC), listening to the schnauzer bark at the squirrels in the yard, and savoring the fact that I'm not sitting in my office.

HNTree

2007-12-12T20:45:00.000-05:00

Or rather, not a tree. For the second year in a row, I have a Festivus Pole instead of a Christmas Tree. There are several reasons for this, but the main one is that lump of black fur you see with his paw on my nose. He's the biggest troublemaker of the bunch, although the other kitties probably would also take a shot at dismantling any tree we put up. Click the picture for a closer view.

I used to think it would be really sad to not have a tree, but it's been at least five years since we've had one, and it's not that big a deal now. Until this year, there really wasn't room for it in our living room, and frankly, we don't spend enough time in there to really enjoy it. It's too damn cold in the winter--we like to be in bed as early as possible. And I like the uniqueness of having a Festivus Pole. Our housecleaner said we're the only people she knows who have one. By the way, did you know that aluminum is the choice metal for Festivus Poles, due to its high strength-to-weight ratio? (Fun Festivus Fact!)

I still look forward to someday celebrating Festivus properly, especially the Airing of Grievances. Before anyone gets to eat dinner, you have to go around the table and tell everyone all the ways that they've disappointed you in the previous year. I'm thinking that might be a lot of fun. That's followed by the Feats of Strength, where the host picks a guest who has to wrestle him to the floor. Good times.

I still give a little nod to Christmas by placing our Santa Dog atop the Festivus Pole. It's supposed to be bare and unadorned, but he's too cute to not put out for a few weeks. Someday, if a little J should come along and join our family and she decides she wants to celebrate Christmas, we'll put a tree up and somehow teach the cats to stay off of it (or not). I suppose I'll have to put the Festivus Pole away, because as I've been told, my main job as a father will be "to keep your daughter off the pole".

Now go see other people's Half-Nekkid Trees.

Marshmallow Musical Monday

2007-12-10T13:15:00.000-05:00

"Marshmallow World" by Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra, circa late 1960-something.

I like to post this video at Christmastime, not because it's a great song (it's really pretty ridiculous), but just because these guys are the coolest ever. The fact that they were the epitome of swaggering machismo and landed babes left and right, all while prancing around in tuxedos and singing ridiculous songs, well, you can't get away with that anymore. You can see in this clip that they KNEW how ridiculous it all was, but it's what they do, and it worked, and we loved it. My favorite part is right as they start singing, Frank realizes his socks came down when they ran down the stairs, and thinks nothing of hiking them back up while he's singing. Why? Because he knows wearing sock suspenders wouldn't look as cool when they bring the broads to his dressing room after the show.

Different Times and Places

2007-12-07T10:38:00.000-05:00

I guess I really am getting old. My memory is starting to get worse. I forget a thought I had 10 minutes ago. I've always prided myself on having a photographic memory, and to some extent, that still holds. I have frighteningly accurate recall of things I read once 20 years ago, not to mention nearly every TV show I've ever watched. But other details of life sometimes elude me.

I've always been sort of fascinated by the concept of "sense memories", the kind that aren't just what happened when, but a memory that completely envelops you in the feeling of being THERE and allows you to actually feel like you felt then. I'm very much about locations. I think it's the OCD in me, but I find comfort in familiar surroundings. I've lived in at least a dozen different places over the years, but every one of them was "home" to me, and being away from them was upsetting. I hate spending the night away from home. My best sense memories are all centered around some time when I was home and felt a certain way.

Christmas seems to retain a special trigger for my memories. Even though we don't do much to celebrate it now, I have several very specific sense memories of Christmastimes in the past that come back to me every year, and I find them comforting and enjoyable. The one that keeps coming to me lately is one I find particularly interesting, because not only does it put me back in a certain place and time, but it even carries with it the things I was thinking at the time.

See, TEN YEARS AGO this time of year, Mrs. J and I had been living together for just a couple of months. It was all very new and exciting to be sharing a home (first time for both of us). We loved our cozy little studio apartment in the City, and while we ventured out to enjoy what San Francisco had to offer, we quickly had learned that both of us liked being home, comfortable and relaxed. What I remember specifically from that Christmastime was (don't laugh) watching Oprah's Favorite Things episode with Mrs. J. I was not an Oprah watcher before her, and still am not, but she loves her, so I go along. Since it was new to me, it wasn't yet annoying (although the screaming audience was a bit much), but I remember there were a few items from Vermont (I think pajamas and a teddy bear), which got us talking about New England, and conjured this whole image in my mind of one day spending Christmas in a snowy little Vermont town.

I think that was the start of our romanticizing New England (which was dumb, I lived here before, I should have known better) and even though we've never had that moment I envisioned, sitting in our little old house in the countryside by a big fire and a huge Christmas tree, I still see it very clearly. And not only does it take to Vermont, it takes me right back to our little apartment and all the things we loved about living there together. And yet I can barely remember who I ran into at CVS earlier today. Go figure.

HNT Daddy's Girl

2007-12-05T20:02:00.000-05:00

Another portrait in the seemingly never-ending parade of my pets. This is our first child, Bella Sue (actually just Bella, but Mrs. J likes to append "Sue" to everyone's name as a homey little monicker, and Bella was the first such candidate).

My Bella Sue is a beautiful grey Tonkinese kitty with the loveliest pale blue eyes and a very plushy coat. We've had her for over nine years now. She was our first real pet, following the neighborhood cat who wandered into our open back window from the apartment's courtyard whenever she wanted to eat and hang out, the fish in a plastic box from Walgreen's, and the two tiny little foster kitties we took care of for three weeks. Bella was born to a scraggly-looking stray cat who lived in the kegyard of the brewery where I worked. A co-worker and I trapped two of the kittens when we saw them scurrying under some kegs, and I took little Bella home. For a whole blissful year, it was just her and me and Mrs. J in our tiny little apartment, and she was a whole lot of fun to live with. Very spirited and playful, extremely talkative (as Tonks are), she would chase her toys around and around the studio and keep us entertained. She ruined our Christmas tree that first year because it was just too damn tempting.

When we moved back east, she made the trip in her carrier, complaining the whole way. The first day, we gave her a sedative to make the truck ride easier, and she frightened us to death that first night in Reno, huddled in a limp sweaty ball at the bottom of the motel bed. We let her make the rest of the trip sedative-free. She took the arrival of Mrs. J's two dogs in stride, and the three of them quickly negotiated an understanding in our new apartment with lots more room to spread out.

Eventually, more people joined the family--first another cat, which took Bella quite a while to get used to, then another dog, then a cat, a dog, and another cat. I felt bad each time that Bella seemed to feel a bit marginalized. But she would eventually decide she'd had enough and come out and demand her attention.

See, she is truly Daddy's girl. I know she loves Mrs. J, but Bella and I have formed a special bond. Maybe it's because I talk back to her, especially when she comes and sits in the bathroom while I'm getting ready in the morning. I'll chit-chat with her about how she's doing and how pretty she is, and then when she starts meowing, I meow right back. I match her tone for tone, which I think makes her feel like we're really having a conversation.

Almost every night, she wanders into our bedroom and waits for me to pat the covers on my side, and then she hops up and walks back and forth by my side so I can scratch her head and back and jiggle her belly. That can go on for quite some time with breaks in between. She almost never does that for Mrs. J. I know, it's kind of mean, but for some reason, she chose me. It's okay, Mrs. J has her own cat, but that never stops her from trying to teach Bella just how enjoyable a big hug can be. I let Bella come to me on her terms, which is why I think she favors me.

It's crazy to think that we've had her for so long. She's been through so many changes with us, and through it all, she's still Daddy's girl.

Now, I fully anticipate, even expect, lots of inappropriate "Daddy's girl" comments, and I'll be very disappointed in you all if I DON'T get them. Now leave a comment and then go see other Half-Nekkid People.

The End

2007-12-02T12:02:00.000-05:00

Ha, gotcha! You thought for a second I was quitting, didn't you? No, I'm not quitting. I'm just talking about "the end" of things. See, I don't like "ends". I LOVE behinds, don't get me wrong, just not ends. Even the ones that everyone else looks forward to. What got me thinking about this was two things--the end of this season of "Dancing with the Stars" and the end of the year.

Me and the missus love us some DWTS. She moons over Maksim, I drool over Cheryl, we all enjoy the paso doble, everybody wins. Sadly, the season ended this week, and I was reminded how much I hate the end of my favorite shows. Since we got hooked on so many reality shows the last few years, it's become far more common. Used to be, your favorite show only ended once, and only after a long time. But now, our shows end at least once a year if not more, and each time is a reminder of what's gone and soon to be forgotten. What I hate about the end of these shows isn't just that it's over, but that the end itself is never nearly as enjoyable as the beginning or the middle. This holds true with all my favorites--DWTS, The Amazing Race, Big Brother--they're always so much more fun at the beginning when there's lots of people in it. When you get to the end, it's always just different. I love the chaotic first few legs of The Amazing Race when you've got so many teams to keep up with. Every summer, when Big Brother hits Week 3, I remind Mrs. J that this is the best time to watch, that with so many people left, there's lots of drama to be had--when you get to the end with 3 or 4 people, it's BORING.

I'm sure there's a deeper psychological issue at play here, there always is. I mean, we DO love our TV, unabashedly, and the enjoyment of our shows or lack thereof is a big deal, but Mrs. J doesn't share my distaste for the end of shows so something else is going on.

I also hate the end of the year, more so every year. And it's not because I dislike getting older, nor do I have a problem with the holidays. What really bothers me is all of the year-end recap shows and articles that repeat ad nauseum the same stuff I've already been reading or hearing about all year long. Seriously, isn't there anything new to write about this month? If you didn't hear about it when it first happened, tough shit! Do we really need five different Top 10 lists of the best movies or celebrity moments? What I'd like to see is a list of the Top 10 things they MISSED the first time around. What cool music or shows did the media just miss the boat on so they can tell us about it now?

I think the other piece of the puzzle is how the month of December seems like a rapidly accelerating snowball rolling downhill. We don't celebrate Christmas to a great extent now, but I still enjoy the music and the general atmosphere of it all, but again, the end of it is my least favorite part. It's all about the buildup, the realization that it's ONLY December 2nd and there's a whole three weeks to go. But soon enough, it'll be the 22nd and it'll all be over in a poof. Oh well.

I think my problem is that time slips away before I can even see that it's happening. The idea of buying that farm somewhere and opening Mrs. J's Ranch for Wayward Dogs and Cats sounds better and better every day.

Now a little distraction. I am in no way endorsing Mike Huckabee--far from it, I think he would be one of the worst possible outcomes in next year's race. I mean, he actually said he doesn't believe in evolution and that the earth is only 5000 years old! But I have to give it to him, he's damn funny. He's made some very good appearances on my favorite liberal shows, Real Time with Bill Maher and The Colbert Report, and now he's got a sheer genius campaign commercial with Chuck Norris. Props to whoever came up with this idea.

Sort of a Vacation

2007-11-30T13:00:00.000-05:00

I've felt like blathering for the last couple days. I'm on a bit of a vacation. Actually, more of a respite from the office. Mrs. J had surgery on Wednesday to remove a gnarly fibroid growing in her uterus, occupying the space we were hoping to fill with a J Jr. this year, so I took these three days off to stay home and watch over her. I say "watch over" rather than "take care" because in all honesty, she was pretty okay once we got home Wednesday afternoon, just a bit sore, and we've spent the bulk of the last two days sleeping since we had to be up at 4AM Wednesday morning. I feel somewhat neglectful that I actually slept till 2PM yesterday while she was awake and fetching things for herself, but I'll make it up to her. It sure is nice to have a couple extra days to catch up on sleep and shrug off a bit of the holiday stress circulating around my office, even if I'm tethered to work by emails and texts. I don't mind--I would rather spend a couple hours a day staying on top of things than just let it all turn to shit and have a miserable week next week when I'm back.

We just watched the first two episodes of "Nimrod Nation" on the Sundance Channel. It's a documentary series about this small town in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, somewhat centered around their basketball team (the Nimrods), but really more a portrait of small-town life. Very interesting, very well-done. Catch it if you can, although there are some gruesome scenes around the whole hunting thing (ugh).

You know, I was reminded Wednesday of my fascination about seating areas. Specifically, the places where people put seats that probably almost never get used. You know, like when people have a little side table and two chairs on the stairway landing in their house--who the hell sits there?? Or in a public building, there always seem to be seats in places where nobody would seem to ever sit. I pondered this, and other things, as I sat for 7 hours in the hospital lobby waiting for Mrs. J. Their lobby actually seemed well-planned, lots of other people like me waiting for someone. But it reminded me of an airport--lots of unnecessary waiting under fluorescent lights, ever-present CNN, bad coffee that you just keep in drinking. And seats in places where there seems to be no need for seats. I guess there's always a chance that some feeble person will wander by and need to sit for just a minute. But there's my fascination--that seat may get used once in a whole year. What does it think about the rest of the time. I tend to anthropomorphize everything (I feel bad when a kernel of corn or a noodle slips out of the colander and down the drain), so that chair must wonder about its purpose all that time that nobody's sitting there. Or maybe it's glad to not have some fat sweaty ass plopped in it all day long. Who knows?

I swear there was something else I meant to babble about, but it's slipping my mind. I'll be back. Glad you're all still here.

HNT Flannel

2007-11-28T20:26:00.000-05:00

Remember the Seinfeld where George said that if it was socially acceptable, he would drape himself in velvet. Well, that's me and flannel. I love flannel. I know, the Nineties are over, and I admit I have no flannel shirts left. And flannel boxers, while great in theory, prove to be a bit much for the boysto handle over the course of a long day. But I do have my wonderful Ralph Lauren flannel robe which I wrap myself in every chilly morning to run out and grab the paper (and usually not much else underneath). And then there's that magical day every November when we decide it's time for the flannel sheets. Oh, the flannel sheets!

Yes, I really do sleep like that, the covers covering my chin and mouth right up to under my nose. I don't know when I started that, but I first found out about it shortly after the missus and I started cohabitating and she said, why are the covers over your mouth? Well, I don't know, but it's probably because I breathe through my nose, and we keep the thermostat at 58 all night, so it's a bit chilly out there. That and the fact that I was deathly afraid of the dark as a kid (and still am somewhat today), so the more of me that's covered up, the safer I am.

But back under my flannel sheets, all is warm and toasty. When I first saw my roommate's flannel sheets in college, I had no idea such a thing even existed--I was enthralled! Not only were they so soft and comfy, but I found that I had a natural love for tartans. Which I think logically led to my love of golf, Scotch, and Groundskeeper Willy. Nothing says a cozy winter evening to me like hunkering down in a sea of plaid flannel with a few dogs warming my midsection and feet. Which is exactly what I plan to do as soon as I post this. It's been a LOOOONG day, which I'll write about tomorrow, but for now, Daddy needs some sleep.

Now say hi and go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Short Week (and Musical Monday)

2007-11-26T14:17:00.000-05:00

I'm glad that I only have to work two days this week, but not so glad for the reason--Mrs. J is having some minor female surgery this week. Nothing major, and I'm fully confident that everything will be fine (better in fact, once it's done), but you know, it's always a little scary when doctors get involved. So I'll be home later this week being as good a caretaker as I can possibly be.

It's been a while since I did Musical Monday, mainly because my favorite new songs have been slow to come out with videos. So this week, you get two.

First is "Living is a Problem Because Everything Dies" by Biffy Clyro. Any Scottish band with a weird name and an epic tune is okay in my book.

The other one is the Killers (again!) doing a cover of Joy Division's "Shadowplay", which I confess to not knowing very well from my 80s days. But this version is great, very hypnotic and groovy, and the kids in the video look pretty legitimately 80s.

HNTMP3

2007-11-21T18:24:00.000-05:00

Like a good HNTer, I'm following Os's MP3 theme today, so here I am with my iPod. It's almost two years old now, a bit scratched and smudged, but still a technological marvel. I'd never go to the gym without it.

I still remember the "wild west" days of digital music, back when Napster was free and unregulated, and you could get any song you wanted if you just looked around long enough. I still have a sizable collection of ill-gotten MP3s that would make Lars Ulrich angry (although no Metallica, so he can just suck it). Thank goodness I saved them, since some of my favorite bands STILL won't sell singles on iTunes (I'm talking to you, Radiohead and Tool!).

My tastes in music are quite eclectic. Just about the only thing you won't find on my iPod is country music, but I do have an autographed Trisha Yearwood CD and still remember when she kissed me on the cheek. I tend to lean towards alternative rock and good old fashioned hair metal, but I've also got quite a bit of old school hip-hop, classic funk and soul, plenty of ABBA, and even a whole playlist full of cheesy Christmas tunes that I'll put on an endless loop starting next week. Of course, right now, it's all about the Foos--their new album is awesome, and I'm counting the days till the concert in February.

My iPod definitely tends to play a few songs an awful lot. My Wakeup playlist is pretty short, a pretty steady rotation of Oasis, Stereophonics, Snow Patrol and Radiohead tunes, the kind of songs that wake you up slow and easy. I've got a couple reliable playlists for the gym (one rockin', one funky) that I use a lot, and I put together a really kickass playlist of 80s metal that the wife likes to listen to while we're doing yardwork. A song for every occasion.

Now go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Come to the Dark Side--We Have Cookies

2007-11-16T21:32:00.000-05:00

Today's title comes from a bumper sticker we saw on the way home today--love it!

Yeah, that's right, I got Foo Fighters tickets! Three months from now, Dave and the boys will be making my ears bleed, and I'll be loving every second of it. I'm giddy as a schoolgirl.

I'm so excited to see these guys, I'm even willing to go to Worcester AGAIN! If you've never been there, don't. It's one of those depressing Northeast cities that seem to exist solely to make people want to move somewhere else. But for some reason, the Foos keep playing there instead of Boston, so I'll go.

That'll be one serious night of air guitar and devil horns for this overgrown adolescent!

HNT Ch-ch-changing

2007-11-14T18:41:00.000-05:00

Priority number one when I get home from work--change into comfortable clothes! I do not understand how or why people sit around in regular clothes when they're home for the evening. If somebody's coming by the house or I have to work a bit in the yard, MAYBE I'll put on some jeans or something, but otherwise, it's track pants or my Guinness shorts for sure. I like it even better in the winter, because the lounging clothes are so much cozier. Definitely helps quickly decompress from a stressful day.

Now go see other half-Nekkid People.

Musical Monday Evening

2007-11-12T19:57:00.000-05:00

Ever find a song that you love PART of it and then you really don't like the other part? Yeah, me too, all the time. I think "Bang a Gong" by Power Station was the first such song for me--love the opening guitar riff, hate it in the chorus. Here's a new one--"I Get It" by Chevelle. Great verses, sucky annoying chorus. Oh well, it's half good.

I usually try not to post fan-created videos from YouTube, since they tend to usually be pretty bad. But I had been meaning to post this song for a while, and oddly enough, the first fan-vid I clicked happened to have been made by a local and features some relatively cool street scenes of Providence. So here's a peek at my town along with this week's song.

Blather

2007-11-10T20:19:00.000-05:00

The universe speaks to me often, usually through the TV. Today it did so, in the form of John Cusask in High Fidelity. Great movie, except for the part where he hides in the flower bed and gets all muddy and then has sex with his ex in her car. Just gross. Nevertheless, it popped up on FX while I was killing time waiting for the wife to get ready today, and it spoke to me. It helped remind me what I wanted this blog to be--confessional, witty, a bit cynical and sardonic, and often completely random. Plus even though it sometimes struck as a bit contrived, I dug the whole "Top 5" thing he did through out the film. So in that spirit, here are...

My Top 5 Embarrassing Facts about Me

I used to pretend to understand jokes and references in TV shows and movies when I could tell that my friends didn't get them, even if I didn't actually understand them. I liked to create the illusion that I always "got it". Usually I would look it up later so I actually knew what I had been laughing at. I've tried to stop doing that, but it still slips through sometimes.

I not only sing at the top of my lungs in the car, I also play air guitar, air drums, and occasionally even air bass or air key-tar. And I even sometimes flash devil horns at passersby when the Foos or QOTSA come on.

I'm 35 years old and I'm still afraid of the dark. Not all dark, but just dark spaces that feel unknown and unpredictable. One time when Mrs. J and I stayed at a friend's house in Sonoma, on top of a mountain with no other people around for acres, I got really freaked out by the dark and what could be lurking there.

I pick my nose. I'm sorry. If you no longer find me sexy, I'll understand.

I absolutely adore ABBA.

Don't you feel better about yourself now?

HNT New Undies

2007-11-07T20:15:00.000-05:00

Does anyone else get excited about new underwear? I do. I'm very particular about my undergarments. I have GOT to be comfortable, so not just any pair of skivvies will do. Once I find a brand that works, I try to stick with it till they fall apart and the manufacturer stops making them. Of course, you have the whole issue of variability within a batch--why is it that the sky blue and grey Hane boxer briefs are SO soft and comfy, but the dark blue and red ones suck ass? So it's always an exciting prospect to try out a new variety. Maybe this one will be the holy grail of unders, the ones that don't bunch up around my thigh, that cradle my man business just right, giving me enough room to stretch out (if you know what I mean) while still providing support.

I'm not sure these passed the test. I had high hopes because they're Calvin Klein and the fabric felt really silky. But they didn't retain their snugness very well, and by the end of the night, my stuff was flopping all over the place, very uncomfortable. But at least I look pretty good in white. Overall, a B-.

Now go check out other Half-Nekkid People and rub Os's bald head!

"We Were On a Break!"

2007-11-05T18:55:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite lines from a TV show in the history of forever. If you can't place it, well, I just can't help you.

Anyway, I'm on a bit of an informal break, a hiatus or sabbatical if you will. Actually, maybe it's more of me respecting the Writers' Guild picket lines. I don't know, call it what you will, I just need to (hopefully briefly) relieve myself of the self-imposed pressure of posting regularly. Which isn't that big of a sacrifice since I've barely managed two posts a week for the past couple months, and those are pre-determined themes, so I've hardly been working my ass off here.

But I just need to shift a bit, spend some time thinking about other stuff and investing some energy elsewhere. Which isn't to say you won't see my ass on here on Thursdays--it would be pretty hard to give up HNT since I've been doing it every week for almost 2 years. And frankly, this post talking about how I'm not going to post anymore is the most I've written in a while. But we'll see how it goes. Those of you who still come by, feel free to drop an email or a comment and say hey. I'll be here, just a little quieter.

HNT Pumpkin Fucker

2007-10-31T11:38:00.000-05:00

In order to satisfy both the HNT mandate that today's post be Halloween-themed AND my own current feeling of laziness, I'm doing a rerun today. This is last year's Halloween HNT. It's actually one of my favorites, because I worked pretty hard on it (pun slightly intended). The new title comes from one of my favorite comments ever from one of my favorite bloggers ever, Mr. Artful Dodger, who called me "Mr. Pumpkin Fucker".

For those of you who feel daring, just click on the pumpkin for a nice little treat (or a nasty trick, depending on how you see it). For those of you who would rather not see it, I think I've made this post safe for all, including those Bloglines users who accidentally saw the "hidden" picture last year (sorry Phain!).

No, I'm not trick or treating tonight, nor am I going to any Halloween parties, and I sure as hell am not giving out candy to the already chubby and spotty kids who come around our block. A couple years of that has ruined the experience for me. Between the poor little frightened toddlers who clearly should be accompanied to the door and the clueless kids who don't understand that they have to step back so I can open the goddamn door to give them their candy, I've had it. Mrs. J and I will bolt the front gate, turn off all the lights at 6PM and retire to our little red retreat with the dogs and cats for an evening of Tivo, ice cream and South Park. Hope you have a similarly fabulous Halloween!

Now leave me a nice note and then go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Hooky Monday

2007-10-29T20:30:00.000-05:00

Shhh, don't tell anyone. I played hooky today. My excuse was partly true--I was very tired and did wake up several times overnight. But really, it was mostly that the bed was so damn cozy at 6:00 that there was no way in hell I was going to get up. So I spent ALL morning in bed having some really f'ed up dreams, and the rest of the day just lounging around. So that's why my post is late.

Now I've used this blog several times in the past to confess things about myself. Tonight I have another one--I love "Dancing with the Stars". That's right, Dancing with the Stars. We didn't watch the first season, but since the second one, it's been one of our favorite shows. And I actually pay attention to more than just the skimpy outfits--I actually know all the dances now, I have favorites (the paso doble), and I can really spot good choreography (Julianne's the best and most creative). This season is pretty damn good, although I was very disappointed that Cheryl Burke had to leave so early. It wasn't fair to saddle her with Wayne Newton. She's got far and away the best butt on the show, and it's a crime that we don't get to see it every week.

Got another returning champion for today's song--Silversun Pickups' new single "Well Thought Out Twinkles". Good sign of a great band that their second song is even better than their first.

HNT Reflected

2007-10-24T15:44:00.000-05:00

The last two weekends, I've chosen to seize the day, take advantage of the remaining good weather, and play golf by myself. My usual partners have all flaked out numerous times, and I grew tired of missing opportunities to play. So despite my slight lingering anxiety over being forced to play with strangers (which makes me self-conscious and messes up my game) and the sad reality of playing ALONE, I went out each of the last Sundays late in the day to play 9 holes. And thoroughly enjoyed it, even though I've played better before.

This past Sunday, the only bad part was being stuck behind a very slow-moving group of very oblivious ladies, so there was a lot of waiting on the tee. I had lots of time to sit and look around, and noticed my own reflection in my driver.

I also caught myself reflected in the tee marker on the 7th hole. I went on to barely miss a par on that hole. Waiting around 10 minutes to tee off does not help one's game very much.

Yes, I know, there are many jokes to be made about me "playing with myself". I'll save you the trouble--I LOVE playing with myself! I play with myself all the time!

And I know I promised more Cocktoberfest, but time has been short this week and I haven't had a chance to properly fluff myself for a good picture. But don't worry, it'll pop up when you least expect it.

Okay, now please leave a little comment for me and then go see other Half-Nekkid People

Blah Blah Musical Monday

2007-10-22T17:19:00.000-05:00

I almost didn't bother posting today, seems like I just don't really care much lately, and nobody else really does either. But I'm just anal enough that it would bother me to not post something.

Great new song from a band that's been around for a long time--"Straight Lines" by Silverchair. I like it when bands evolve and aren't afraid to change their sound.

HNT Beat

2007-10-17T18:30:00.001-05:00

Sorry, once again, I had no good ideas. And I'm still damn tired. Work has eased up a bit and I've destressed a little, but I could sure use three or four solid days of sleep. It doesn't help that with the cooler weather, our bed is even more cozy and difficult to get out of in the morning. Anybody got a job for me that involves spending most of the day in bed?

Now go say hi and go see other Half-Nekkid People. And I know I promised more Cocktoberfest pictures--hopefully next week I'll be awake enough to get it up.

Frosty Musical Monday

2007-10-15T13:13:00.000-05:00

We had our first frost this morning. Brrr! The dogs were reluctant to go out and potty at 5:30, as I stood there in the doorway, the chilly breeze blowing through my robe and quickly shrinking me. It was actually chilly enough that I wore socks today!

This video warmed me up a little, looks very toasty wherever they are. Great new song I've been hearing on the radio the last couple weeks--"Can't Believe a Single Word" by VHS or Beta. Took me a few minutes to realize the video was swapping the guys in the band for chick versions of themselves. It's kind of hard to tell the difference. Hope they manage to get the sand out of their instruments.

HNT Longer Johns

2007-10-10T17:39:00.000-05:00

I really got nothing much today. No great ideas. So we'll start Cocktoberfest with a little tease, a hint of things to come. The past week, I've resumed wearing boxer briefs, thanks to some cooler weather and the need to start giving my boys some more room to breathe and lower temperatures (time to start swimmin' soon!). Love handles be damned--I'm comfy again!

Now go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Metallic Monday

2007-10-08T17:21:00.000-05:00

Before I get to today's song, you have to check out this fabulous site that Mrs. J unearthed for me--Hot Chicks with Douchebags. A celebration of just how lame some guys can be, and the fact that there always seems to be some tart willing to hook up with him for a few free drinks. I love it. And I love the fact that the word "douchebag" just keeps gaining momentum (SNL skit this week too!).

I have been literally waiting 5 weeks to post this song, but apparently they really wanted to take their time making the video. It's "The Running Free" by Coheed and Cambria, one of the bands proud to carry the banner for good old heavy metal with plenty of wild hair, squealing guitars, and flailing crash cymbals (and maybe even a bit of cowbell!). I really dig these guys, their last album was just as cool as this song, and they even have a comic book series about themselves. The imagery in this video is a bit freaky but it seems to fit, and you just have to love Claudio's hair!

Oktober

2007-10-07T17:37:00.000-05:00

Have I mentioned how much I absolutely love Oktober? I choose to use the German spelling because it captures all the best parts of the month, mainly the beer and lederhosen. Thankfully, it finally feels like autumn today, after several days of ridiculous hot weather. I feel completely relaxed and mellow right now, thanks to a delicious lasagna I made for us and a bottle of Zinfandel my best friend sent me from the winery he just started working at. That totally makes up for not getting to golf this morning.

I have high hopes for this Oktober. This is the first time in three years that I expect to fully enjoy the month. Two out of the last three years, I've been traveling this month and missed the leaves changing, and one year, it rained for literally 15 days straight. This year, I'm home, the weather looks good, and we're looking forward to just sitting back and watching things turn yellow and orange and red.

There are so many good reasons to love Oktober. The crisp, cool mornings. The warm sun in the afternoons. The crunch of the leaves. The myriad of Oktoberfest beers to sample. Football games when it feels like football weather. Not to mention how much I love hearing the radio stations talk about "Rocktoberfest". And the most fun of all--"Cocktoberfest". I feel some intersting HNTs coming on.

HNT Chubby Huggs

2007-10-03T19:30:00.001-05:00

Today we have yet another chapter in my never-ending chronicle of pets. This is Cat Number Three, the one I like to call Chubby Huggs.

That's not her real name of course, but she responds well to it. We decided she deserved to be called that after seeing this installment of the Get Fuzzy comic strip which introduced the original Chubby Huggs, the rotund kitty who loves to hug everyone.

Our own Chubby was a rescue of course. We adopted her almost two years ago after seeing her picture on a local Petfinder page and learning that she had spent almost an entire year at the shelter. She went every weekend to the adoption fairs at Petco and watched her entire litter of kittens get adopted, but never found someone who wanted to take her home. As soon as we saw her, we fell in love with her big beautiful eyes, and we knew there was a spot in our family for her.

She's perhaps the most grateful pet we have. She was always quite social and affectionate, but over the two years, she's grown more and more so, constantly seeking us out, talking, rubbing, looking for head and butt scritches every chance she gets. And boy, does she love her food--if the bowl's empty, she lets us know, and nearly knocks us over dashing to the table to be ready for the first scoop. I'm sure in her past homes, she was never sure when her next meal would arrive, so I'm happy to indulge her. She's chunked out a bit, enough for me to also call her "Fatty McGee", but she's one happy, chubby little kitty. She even rubs on the dogs, and she does a great job keeping the Boy occupied--they wrestle and tussle all over the place.

It may look like she's not enjoying our hug, but I believe she really does.

Now go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Musical Monday on Sunday

2007-09-30T17:34:00.000-05:00

This weekend was exactly what I needed--an almost perfectly sequence of relaxations to unwind after a stressful week. A lazy Friday night, nine holes of golf Saturday morning (7 of which were really well-played, we won't talk about the last 2), a very productive Saturday afternoon installing some new lights and a ceiling fan (although I did hurt my shoulder doing the wiring over my head), a delicious dinner Saturday night cooked by my darling wife, a Tivo full of good shows to watch, sleeping late Sunday morning, scrambled eggs and cinnamon toast in bed, puttering around this afternoon, and back in bed by 5:00. I feel almost recharged. Almost.

Finally, there's actually a glut of good new songs that I wanted to post. Unfortunately, I'm SO cutting-edge that not all of them have videos out yet, but I found this one for this week. "Thrash Unreal" by Against Me. It's a damn catchy song about some over-the-hill rocker chick who keeps going out and getting stoned. I have a thing for songs where the singer manages to fit some really awkward lyrics into a melody. I could NOT figure out what the chorus to this song was, never would have guessed that it was "No mother ever dreams that her daughter's gonna grow up to be a junkie. No mother ever dreams that her daughter's gonna grow up to sleep alone." Now you can sing along.

HNT Fine Lines

2007-09-26T18:22:00.000-05:00

Do I look tired and stressed? Well, I am. This past week has helped etch a few more fine lines in my face. It's been my hardest week at work in a long time--lots of extra hours and management breathing down my neck and scrambling to get our new site up and running at full strength. But it's working, dammit, almost 100% due to my efforts, and that does feel good in the few minutes I actually stop and reflect. I've barely had time to catch my breath, much less relax or read blogs or do anything fun. I think I should be through the worst by the end of the week (conveniently) and may even have a chance to play some golf. I'm sure that'll put a few more lines on my face, but I don't mind those so much.

Now say hi and then go see other Half-Nekkid People.

One by one, the lights go out...

2007-09-22T17:27:00.000-05:00

I've been somewhat out of the blogging loop the last couple months. I haven't posted a lot, I haven't read a lot, and I haven't kept up with some of my friends as much I like to. You know how it is, work gets busy, life gets in the way, and then something awful like your dog dying. Anyway, not an excuse, just a fact.

So much to my surprise last week, I see that two more of my bloggy friends have decided to turn the lights out on their blogs. The always entertaining Madame X and my dear little sister Phain have pulled down the curtains. As always, it's sad to see someone close their blog after having them as part of your daily routine for so long, but I understand now a lot more. I've seen others come and go, and I've occasionally hit that point where I thought I might stop, so I know there can be lots of reasons to decide to stop blogging.

It's sad, but I wish them both the best, and I know that I'll least hear from Phain whenever she wants to make fun of Fame or gloat about a Gators win or something.

Speaking of sad, yesterday was one month since we lost our LadyBird. We talked about it a bit last night, shared the fact that both of us have been talking to her from time to time when we're alone. Before I went to sleep, Mrs. J told me "Let's send good thoughts to Bird tonight". Well, this morning when we finally woke up, she told me that in a dream she had last night, a little bird kept following her around and visiting her. She realized this morning that it was actually OUR Bird (in her non-beagle disguise) telling us she's okay. Spooky, isn't it?

Well, tonight is my professional Super Bowl. Five months of work on a complete overhaul to our website culminates in tonight's launch, with me at the helm. Actually, I'm the only who will be there. I'm pretty proud of this project--I was not only lead developer but also project manager, managing a pretty difficult bunch of people. But it's all come together very nicely, albeit a month or so behind our original schedule, so now the pressure is on to get it up and running and stable before our busy holiday season hits. So at about 2AM Eastern time, think a good thought for me because I'll be frantically pushing buttons and copying files and restarting web services all alone in my dark office. Hopefully it'll go real smoothly and the new site will be a huge success and I'll have a REALLY good reason to be mad this year when my bonus sucks ass again.

HNT Harassment

2007-09-19T20:59:00.000-05:00

I think I was sexually harassed yesterday at work. I was getting my coffee in the kitchen and the cleaning lady said to me, in a heavy Brazilian accent, "You look cute today". At least I think she said "cute"--I couldn't think of any other words that would sound like that. I looked at her quizzically, and she repeated it, motioning to her face and hair. I smiled and said "Thank you", since I'm always nice to her. And I didn't feel too dirty afterwards, so I doubt I'll sue.

I wasn't sure exactly what did it for her, but I'm thinking maybe it was the extra undone button. Yesterday was the first day this fall that I wore a long-sleeved shirt, but since it wasn't really that cold, I left the top two buttons open and rolled my sleeves up. Frankly, this shirt ALWAYS looks good on me, but I think the extra fur put it over the top for her.

I'm still getting used to this extra button thing. I used to wear t-shirts underneath all the time, but it just seems like extra unnecessary layers. And I sort of like embracing my inner monkey. I suppose with some shirts it's a bit too much, but my boss does it, so to me, that makes it acceptable.

Now go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Back to Musical Monday

2007-09-17T12:10:00.000-05:00

I've taken a few weeks off from Musical Monday, for various reasons. I'm not sure anyone even gives a shit, but I'm back anyway, like it or lump it.

My measure of a really good song is simple--I never get sick of listening to it, ideally at a very high volume in the car. Other redeeming qualities are that it inspires me to play air guitar/drums (maybe even air bass once in a while), it forces me to sing along loudly (and I can't sing except in an Axl Rose-esque falsetto), and possibly makes me want to roll my windows down so other people can hear what good taste I have.

So in that vein, I'm going to pick a few songs today, including a few reruns, representing the truly durable songs of this summer. A little something for whatever mood you're in...

If you're in the mood for something new and barely legal, "Misery Business" by Paramore...

For when you want to light a joint and get wistful and then bitter about high school, "One Man Wrecking Machine" by Guster...

For when you want to light ANOTHER joint and just groove a bit, "#41" by the Dave Matthews Band (live from 1996 on Letterman)...

For when you want to put on eyeliner and listen to emo, "Island (Float Away" by the Starting Line...

And for when you want to kick somebody in the nuts and scream at them, "The Pretender" by the Foo Fighters...

That should do it for now. Gotta save something for next week.

Whoo-fuckin'-hoo!

2007-09-14T14:37:00.000-05:00

Finally! A Big Brother final two I like! Those of you who don't watch the show and the live feeds and read the feed updates just won't understand, but for those of us who choose to invest a large chunk of our summers in this show, there's nothing more frustrating than getting to the final shows and having two people you despise at the end. Not since Dr. Will in Season 2 has there been a winner we actually liked, and this year is by far the best. Not one, but two.

One of the twists this year was that there were some pairs of people in the house with a "history"--a pair of high school rival cheerleaders, a pair of gay exes, and this pair, Dick and Daniele, father and daughter who hadn't spoken in three years (her choice). Dick is far and away the greatest reality show contestant ever. He's loud, rude, tattooed, opinionated,--(wait, stay with me)--but also incredibly intelligent, sensitive, and a wonderful, caring, almost heartbroken father. Watching him spill his guts to the live feeders every night and hope and hope that his bratty little daughter would come around and make nice with him was so touching. And seeing him stand on a pedestal under a freezing cold shower for SEVEN HOURS in the final competition just to try to win for her was the most dramatic thing this show has ever shown. It was painful to watch. And even though she told him it was okay to drop out when he couldn't even stand any more, they managed to win in the end, and now between them they'll take home all the money.

Fortunately, Daniele has come around and begun to let go of her petty complaints about her dad, and even given him a little of the love he so wants and needs. It's been thoroughly enjoyable to watch them this year, and I'm so glad they won. Even though Dick would routinely verbally attack the others in the house, he always did so to psyche them out, often to take the focus off his daughter and make everyone hate HIM. And he STILL won. So I can say without any shame--I LOVE DICK!!! ;)

HNT Glory Days

2007-09-12T17:51:00.000-05:00

Since I try to be a good HNTer and follow the rules, here's my Sports HNT. I squeezed myself into my junior year football jersey. Of course, by breaking out the old jersey, I've triggered the instinctive "glory days" response innate to all former high school football players, so indulge me for a minute or two while I wax nostalgic.

Hard to believe I actually used to wear this thing OVER shoulderpads. Of course, I was about 50 pounds lighter back then. Man, what I wouldn't have given for this extra weight back then when I was playing guard and linebacker at 155 pounds. Of course, it would probably have made running laps and sprints and gassers a lot harder.

I loved playing football. Well, actually, I loved being on the football team. When it came to actually practicing, not so much, but I did it, and did it well, because it was really important to me to be an athlete as well as a nerd. And I was pretty damn good too. Starting varsity on both sides of the ball for three years, top Scholar-Athlete in the state senior year (small state)--not that I'm bragging or anything. Just still a bit proud, seventeen years later. Of course, there was that unfortunate game in my junior year when some other dude's knee hit my knee head on, and my knee lost--the kneecap was dislocated all the way around to the side of my leg. I passed out briefly and then spent the next two months running up and down hills to get it back in shape. And I came back to play again that year, and the next. And it all ended perfectly in my senior year when we won the State Super Bowl by holding the state's top offense to minus 5 years total yardage. That's right, MINUS 5 yards.

Alas, that was the end of my playing days. I had one, count 'em one, offer to play college ball at a tiny little school in Maine--weighed against the chance to go to the top university in the country (on account of being wicked smart), I had to choose being a nerd over being a jock. But I still have my trophies and photos and memories of my playing days, not to mention a pair of arthritic knees that crackle and pop every time I stand up (and that slippery little kneecap popped out on me again a few years ago!). My two greatest football regrets are that I never really sold out on a tackle and knocked a guy out cold, and I never landed a cheerleader. Damn shame.

Now say hi and then go see all the other Sporty Half-Nekkid People.

What Big Daddy Loves

2007-09-09T20:04:00.000-05:00

I love when Mrs. J calls me "Big Daddy", like Beth calls Dog (we stole it from them). I love it so much I even refer to myself in the 3rd person now that way. "Guess what Big Daddy wants for dinner tonight?" "Big Daddy's tired." You get the idea. Kind of hot, right?

I love the fact that football season is here, and I have hope that I'll actually watch more this year. I mean, it would be criminal for me NOT to watch game on my 40-inch high-def TV, right?

I love that I shot a 46 yesterday (9 holes) in my first time playing golf in like 3 weeks. My last outing was unspeakably awful, but I was dying to play this weekend and made myself go solo. I was lucky enough to tee off by myself and had a lovely couple hours walking the course and actually playing like a real golfer.

I love Pixie on LA Ink. Actually, I love everybody on that show and really hope they accept my request to have them do my tattoo of Lady. But Pixie's the best, even Mrs. J agrees. She's cute, she's sassy, she loves dogs, and she's got great tattoos. I'm still a bit iffy on the dimple piercings, but I'll go with it.

I love that Curb Your Enthusiasm starts a new season tonight. If you don't watch it, you MUST! It's one of the funniest shows ever. Even when it makes you squirm with the ridiculously awkward situations Larry gets himself into, you'll be dying laughing.

I love that Dick and Daniele are in the final three on Big Brother, and probably will be the winners. The fact that they're not afraid to tell people what they think and call out all the liars and bullshit makes up for his rudeness and spitting and her whininess. Dick alone has made this season worth watching--they're going to have a hell of a time matching that casting next year.

I love that for two days in a row, I got to sleep till noon. Of course, I'll probably still be tired tomorrow morning, but I'll try to remember how good today and yesterday felt.

I love that Britney put it all out there again at the VMAs tonight. I'm sure the bitchy bloggers and everybody else will be saying tomorrow that she looks fat, but I think she looks great. I love my girls with a bit of booty. Looks like she could use a little more practice on her new dance moves, but it worked for me.

And I love that it will soon be fall, even though this weekend it was doing a really annoying impersonation of summer with the mugginess and heat and everything. But soon it'll be nice enough that we can open the windows again and let the outside in. Till it starts snowing, then I'll bitch about that.

HNT Waning Days

2007-09-05T18:56:00.000-05:00

Even though I love autumn, the end of summer makes me a bit melancholy. As if I need more reasons to be blue right now (I'm so tired of me moping around). What I miss the most as the summer winds down are the late sunsets. I love sitting out on the deck or on the porch after work, enjoying the late sun and reading, but since August is always such a nasty bitch, the pleasant occasions for it are few and far between. Fortunately, today was one of them.

(click the picture for a closer view)

The loveseat on the sunporch used to be my favorite spot, but now you can't beat the giant daybed we have on the deck. Room enough for both of us plus all the dogs. Great spot to sit and watch Mrs. J water the garden and catch up on some reading (for those of you curious, I'm reading an article about Rick Rubin in the New York Times Sunday Magazine--highbrow and hip all at the same time). And it wouldn't be the same without a cold beverage, in this case the first Oktoberfest of the season, courtesy of Harpoon Brewery in Boston.

I do love the fall, the cool crisp mornings and evenings, the freshness of the air, the crunch of leaves and shoulderpads and helmets. But it's impossible to not feel a little blue as another summer passes by. I've learned that you can never reproduce those perfect days or nights that you remember so fondly, but if you just slow down and relax and don't force things, something new wlll come along to soothe your mind and soul right when you need it.

Now please leave me a comment, I've been ever so lonely lately, and then go look at other Half-Nekkid People.

Disorientation

2007-09-03T20:07:00.000-05:00

I feel weird. I can't quite get my footing. I'm not down, I'm not up, I'm not sure where I am. I had a pretty good weekend, lots of sleeping in and working around the house, but I feel less than recharged. There's a lot of things I feel like I should do or want to do, but none of them actually hold enough appeal for me to do them. I'm feeling rather ambivalent about blogging or reading blogs. I'm stressed about money and I'm tired of reading about the mortgage and credit crunch (I get it, I'm overextended, I don't need to hear anymore about it!). I'm glad our house is finally done being painted, and I love how it came out, but it's rather disorienting to have my surroundings look so different, not to mention how weird it was having strangers crawling all over my home for the last month and having a porta-potty sitting in my driveway. Work has been stressful, I haven't played golf in weeks, my best friend has been on vacation for two weeks (and frankly, not really there for weeks before that).

But I think what's got me most thrown off balance is that Lady's missing. She's gone. Our family has soldiered on, but she's not here. And on the surface, it seems like we're adjusting and getting used to the new routine, but down deep, it tears me up every day when I don't have to carry her downstairs or kiss her when I come home. It's weird, I almost didn't realize that was what was wrong until I started writing this. Now I remember this same sensation two years ago when Max died. Things moved on, life seemed to resume right away, but I found myself feeling rather indifferent about everything. Same thing now. I just don't seem to want to do much other than sleep and, well, sleep. Maybe time to up the Zoloft.

I'll get my feet under me eventually. I guess it'll just take a while for the world to seem normal without my Bird.

I Should Totally Run...

2007-09-01T18:36:00.000-05:00

The one highlight about turning 35 this year is that I'm finally free to run for President if I want. I just may, given the current state of things. Do you think America is ready for a President who's shown his cock online at least a dozen times? I gotta think that counts for something.

I actually started blogging for political reasons. My first blog (before this one) was something I started writing during the big hurricane disaster two years ago, and served mainly as a way for me to vent some outrage. I was still stinging after the 2004 election debacle, and it felt good to voice my opinions again. Unfortunately, not too many people were reading besides my mom and a co-worker, so I quit, and eventually found my way here to be anonymous and naked. But I never stopped enjoying a good rant now and then.

It's a sign of how comfortable I've become on this blog that I'm willing to say exactly what I think even though I know some of my best bloggy friends disagree with me. I love you all anyway.

Actually, I've been pretty politically-minded since my early teen years. I got very into the news and current events in junior high, and even taped the entire 1988 Democratic Convention for posterity (back when it used to be on TV all 4 nights). Generally, my shyness kept me from pursuing office, but one summer at nerd camp when I was 14, I was the ringleader of a mostly harmless movement to declare the lounge of our dorm a sovereign nation governed (or not) by the highly original concept of "peaceful anarchy". I emblazoned my orange Chuck Taylors with a symbol combining the peace and anarchy symbols and tacked pithy sayings on the doors (much like a pubescent Martin Luther). It was mostly successful, I got a girl to kiss me, and I still have those orange Chucks in my keepsake box.

I'm not strictly partisan in my views. Although I lean heavily to the left on most things, I've been a fan of pols on both sides of the aisle over the years. I was a Reagan geek back in the 80s, but to this day, I still think of Bill Clinton as "my president". The whole blowjob thing made me like him even more. I loathe Professor Numbnuts that we've been stuck with the past 7 years (thanks to Bill Maher for that line), not just because I disagree with every single thing he says, but also because I think he KNOWS he's totally unqualified for the job but doesn't give a shit, he's willfully sold this country and its principles to whoever shows up with a bag of money, and he's wasted almost 4000 American lives and thousands and thousands of civilian lives on two pointless military ventures that accomplished nothing more than making him feel like his dick is big.

So needless to say, I'm ready for a change. Unfortunately, I'm not feeling great about the options so far. First of all, the fact that the 2008 campaign has already been underway for months is ridiculous. The only good thing that's come out of it so far is that the "crackpots" like Ron Paul and Mike Gravel actually get a lot of airtime to throw stones at the establishment and actually make a few good points. Other than that, this election promises to be the most bullshit-filled ever. I'm sorry, I just don't like Hillary as our candidate. Not that I'm not plenty ready for a woman president, and I love the idea of Bill getting involved in public life again, but I just don't like how flip-floppy she is. She stands for not a hell of a lot. Barack Obama seems like he could be a really good president someday, but I wish he would have just waited another cycle or two and gotten some more experience. Right now, the one guy I like is John Edwards, $400 haircuts be damned. He's a lot more fearless than he was in 2004, and I love the fact that he's not afraid to call shenanigans and be bold enough to say that some things are really fucking broken. If he can keep it up, I like his chances, and I'll throw the full power of the JUnderCovers political machine behind him.

To be fair, I'm also endorsing a Republican candidate. I'm supporting Mike Huckabee for several reasons. One, he's appeared on Colbert several times and actually can laugh at himself well, always an admirable quality. Two, it makes me laugh to hear him say that he actually believes the earth is only 6000 years old and that he doesn't believe in evolution. Three, there is no way in HELL that this country will ever elect a "President Huckabee", so that pretty much guarantees victory for my side.

But you never know, I may pull a Thompson/Bloomberg/Gore maneuver and throw my hat into the ring late in the game. I think I have a fresh angle--good education, zero experience, willing to actually LEARN about the issues, willing to pose nude for Vanity Fair. I don't know, do you think America's ready for a President who shaves his pubes?

HNT Too Hot

2007-08-29T18:41:00.000-05:00

WARNING--THOSE WHO SEE ME IN A BROTHERLY WAY SHOULD NOT CLICK ON THE PICTURE BELOW!!! The rest of you pervs are free to proceed.

This past weekend was absolutely miserable around here. 90-something degrees, 90 percent humidity, for three days straight. We tried to not leave the house all weekend, but even staying inside with the AC on, it was hard to stay cool. Our bedroom always gets warm at the end of the day, all the heat in the house rising up here and making it hard to sleep. As much as I like being covered up, sometimes I have to ventilate a little bit in order to get comfortable.

If you want to see what was still under the covers and you're not afraid, click on the picture. If it scares you, click again to make it go away. Now go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Kickass Musical Monday

2007-08-26T11:33:00.001-05:00

I think I owe a royalty to my Wonder Twin Jayna for using "kickass" in a post. But this song does truly kick ass. That's why this is the first song I've ever run TWICE for Musical Monday. The first time around, there was no video yet, and I think YouTube pulled it down after a couple days. And even if you DID already listen to it, you simply have to listen to it again. Turn your speakers up real loud, since the beginning of the song is quiet, plus you're going to want them loud at the end.

"The Pretender" by the Foo Fighters--let it kick your ass.

I think the video is great too, especially when the clock ticks down to 1:06. I take it as a big middle finger to the scumbags trying to turn our country into a police state where you're not allowed to say certain things. We need more of those middle fingers, and we need some people with the balls to put them up there. I can't wait to see who Dave throws his support behind in next year's election, since I greatly admire his political convictions and his willingness to voice them no matter what anyone thinks.

Speaking of which, I've decided that I'm going to make my official JUnderCovers endorsements for the 2008 race in the very near future. I was going to hold off till it was actually 2008, but apparently everybody else is starting early, so I figure I need to get my primary endorsements in now, or else you might not know who you should vote for. So stay tuned for that in the coming days. I know you can't wait.

Thank You All

2007-08-24T09:59:00.000-05:00

I just wanted to say thanks to all of those who read Lady's story yesterday and left their kind words for us. It means so much to Mrs. J and I to know that others know about Lady now, and that there are other people out there who understand how special your pets can be to you. We knew we couldn't be the only ones! As has so often happened to me since I started blogging, I found a great deal of comfort and validation in you all, and I truly appreciate that.

I'm sorry for making so many of you cry yesterday--usually I try to make you laugh or giggle or maybe get a little hot and bothered. But every tear you shed was an honor to Ladybird and to all of your furkids too, so I think it's a good thing. I myself went back and read my own post four times over, and I teared up every time. It's a good thing, very cathartic.

Each day this week has been a little bit easier, but it still hurts a whole lot, and there are those moments each day when I choke up, be it when I go to feed the dogs and realize I only have to fill three dishes, or when we look to the foot of the bed at night and see the Boy laying in Lady's bed, or when I come home from work and she's not there standing on the bed wagging her tail at me. I almost welcome those moments of pain, because it keeps her fresh in my mind, and I don't want her to fade anytime soon.

We have managed to trudge on with our lives and even laugh a bit at how silly the other dogs can be (and thank you Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert for being such a reliable amusement every day). And we're looking forward to restoking our fires of outrage tonight when Bill Maher comes back on the air to say what we've been thinking all along. Not like I wasn't outraged enough this week at that despicable scumbag Michael Vick. I truly believe he should have been thrown in a cage with those poor dogs he ruined and let them mete out some justice. Instead, they're all being euthanized, he'll eventually get paid millions of dollars to play football again, and the morons on NBC talk about how his bigger offense is the gambling and not the exploitation of defenseless dogs for the amusement of him and his retarded thug friends. Sometimes this world is so fucked I just want to climb into bed and never come out.

Thanks, I feel better now. Hope you all have a great weekend.

Bye Bye Ladybird

2007-08-22T10:17:00.001-05:00

No nekkidness today. Tuesday night we lost our little Ladybird. I hope to find some small comfort in sharing her story with you here. As Mrs. J said to me earlier today, it's the very least she deserves to have her story told and celebrated.

Lady came to us almost two years ago, about a month after we lost Max. We had no intention of trying to replace him and weren't planning to get another dog so soon. But when Hurricane Katrina happened, we thought we might try signing up to foster some of the displaced pets. When she went to PetFinder to sign us up, Mrs. J found a notice on the local agency's page for Lady--a 13-year-old beagle whose owners were divorcing and couldn't decide what to do with her. She had just a couple days to find a home before she would be turned into the shelter. Knowing what would likely happen to a 13-year-old dog in the shelter, we immediately contacted her people, had her come over for a visit, and within days, she'd joined our family.

She was a character from day one--loud, bossy and stubborn, just like Max had been. We didn't realize it at the time, but having another dog with the same color and habits (food-seeking, farting, etc) was very healing for us all, including little Schmoop, who loved Max more than anything in the world. It wasn't long before she found herself napping next to Lady, paws touching or her chin resting on Lady's butt. Lady found her niche in our family pretty quickly, enjoying the freedom to wander in our yard, reminding us promptly when it was time to eat, loving the ability to climb up on our bed and enjoy a good nap.

As all our dogs have, she quickly got a nickname in addition to her given name. Lady became Ladybird (thanks to LBJ and King of the Hill), which became Bird, Birdie, and Ms. Bird. Not to mention Beagle, Bagel and Bitey. She seemed to like them all.

We couldn't believe that someone would give her up after 9 years (where she lived before that is a mystery), but it made more sense as we figured out that the people who had her before probably hit her as well. She never lost that flinch, but we learned to approach her gently and carefully, and she loved a good ear rub or lots of kisses on her velvety head. It made us angry to think of somebody striking that poor little dog, but grateful that she was one of us now and would never have to fear that again.

She was the toughest little dog I've ever met. She came to us with a few health problems--arthritis in her legs, some lumps on her body, some respiratory problems. But she didn't let it slow her down. She would pace the house for hours, looking for anything worth sniffing, and hoping for a scrap of food somewhere. Many times she'd lose her balance, and often would tumble down the stairs before we could catch her. But she would hop right back up like nothing happened and proceed on her merry way.

Sometimes she made us shake our heads in amazement, or shake our fists in frustration. She was a very efficient trash-digger--I can't even count how many times she found an old sandwich wrapper or a few fries stuffed down in the trash. She chewed her way through several big bags of dog food (foil and paper), she pulled the kitchen trash over time and time again, she even plucked a Tupperware container full of ham roll-ups off the kitchen table and was in the process of prying it open with her teeth when I walked in. She acted like it was hers all along. And most days, promptly at 3:00PM, she would decide she was ready for dinner and begin the process of staring down Mrs. J till she relented and fed everyone.

She had the best bark ever. We'd always heard beagles were loud, but really no idea. When she wanted something, she threw her whole body into her bark--her head flew back so she could project, her ears flapped, and she always did a double-bark to make sure we heard her.

She got along so well with everyone in the pack. She loved napping butt-to-butt with the others on our bed, and she was so patient and tolerant when the cats would jump over her, or rub themselves on her face. You could just see how happy she was to be part of a big family. She had her own little bed on the bench at the foot of our bed so she could sleep without being disturbed, but more and more, she would climb up onto the bed with us so she could be closer for a bit until she was ready for her space.

Over the last year, she's had a few more health problems with her lungs and heart, but a couple medications kept her pretty healthy and happy. We really thought she'd tough it out forever. The last couple months, she became hesitant to go down the stairs on her own, probably one too many tumbles. So we started carrying her, and she absolutely loved it. It got to the point that when it was time to potty, I would just walk over to the corner of the bed and put my arms out, and she would shuffle herself into place, squat down, and put her front legs up so I could scoop her up. Sometimes when she was real sleepy but we knew she had to pee, she would just rest her head on our shoulder and snuggle. Even though we knew that having to carry her was a sign of her aging, we loved the chance to get closer to her, and she did too.

The last two weeks, she'd been having diarrhea and losing her appetite. We weren't sure if it was a bug or what, so we did the usual hamburger and rice diet, some medication, some cottage cheese and scrambled eggs. She was doing okay until this weekend, when she sort of stopped eating. She seemed to want to, but wouldn't eat more than a few bites. We planned to take her to see her doctor on Monday, and watched her closely over the weekend. She mostly slept, but still pottied like a good girl, and took a couple of treats and drank her water. But she wasn't getting her heart and lung medicine, and we were worried that she didn't want dinner.

Monday the vet put her on IV fluids to rehydrate and renourish her, although she warned that her kidneys were showing elevated levels and that they couldn't push the fluids too much because of her heart condition. They wanted to keep her for another day of fluids, but said we could take her home Monday night and bring her back. We couldn't stand the idea of her being along in a cage, so we picked her up and brought her home, and she looked wonderful. Bright-eyed, tail wagging, happy to be home. We cooked some chicken for her (at the vet's suggestion), and she was SO excited to eat it. She gobbled down two portions along with her pills, and we thought she would be fine after another couple days of fluids.

Monday night we settled into bed early with everyone, and Lady climbed up and nested next to me as I laid down. She didn't often sleep right with us, so I knew she was wanting some special time. I fell asleep with my hand on her, feeling her breathe. Sometime during the night, Mrs. J heard her moving and noticed she was shivering, so she took her up under the covers with her, and they slept together for almost two hours.

Yesterday morning, she had a persistent cough, and seemed a bit disoriented and unsettled. We were already planning to take her back to the vet, so Mrs. J drove her there while I went to work. We got a call around midday to say that she was having some trouble breathing, but they were putting her on a medicated drip to try to relieve the breathing problems. We planned to pick her up again at 6. I left work early to get more chicken for her, and we were in the kitchen cooking her dinner when the vet called and told Mrs. J that she wasn't doing well and she wanted us to get there as quickly as possible. I just knew from that moment...

I drove as fast as I could to the vet's office, cursing the traffic and the people oblivious to the fact that I HAD to get there. My mind kept picturing us running into the office and finding her already gone, and it would have killed me to let my baby die alone like that. I ran a couple of red lights and swerved through a parking lot to get to the office, and we ran inside.

Lady was lying in her cage, breathing heavily and looking pretty tired. But she recognized we were there and seemed to like the stroking and kisses we laid on her. Our vet told us she couldn't give her any more fluids and that her breathing was probably not going to get better. She left us to spend some time with her. Mrs. J picked her up and cradled her as we talked to her and told her how much we loved her. She was definitely laboring for breath. I had hoped and hoped we could bring her home one more night and maybe she could go quietly in her own bed, but I knew now that wasn't going to be fair to her. After we laid her back down, she continued gasping, and then let out a couple of low moans that we've never heard from her before. As we both sobbed, we called for the vet to come in with the shot, and we held her paws in our hands as she slipped off to sleep. She just stopped breathing and lay there peacefully as we cried and hugged her.

I know now after going through this twice that the hardest thing is not even seeing them stop breathing. It's leaving them there, all alone and still, knowing that's the last time you'll see or touch them. We lingered there stroking her and kissing her as the wonderful staff from the office came by to offer their condolences. These people are so terrific--they GET us. They know how our pets are our family, and they love us for giving homes to them, and we know whenever we leave our babies in their care, they get the same love we give them. After a while, we left out the backdoor, crying zombies as we drove home. We fed the other dogs and sat together crying and cuddling everyone as they worried after us and took on sad expressions themselves.

We agreed last night that in Lady's honor, we should try to pick up and soldier on, just as she did every time she tumbled down the stairs. But it's so hard. We know she's better off not suffering, but we can't help but be selfish and wish we had more time with her. The two years we had together were a blessing for all of us, but it wasn't enough. It's never enough. And I had to stop myself from thinking about going through this again that as I looked at all the others last night huddled around us in bed. They all knew something was wrong. Even my recluse cat who rarely comes out of hiding other than to visit me for a few minutes, she came and sat on the bench where Lady usually laid, meowing plaintively at us. We cried ourselves to sleep, holding hands and paws.

I believe with every fiber of my being that she knew what was happening. Maybe even this weekend, but definitely on Monday. She got strong enough to come home, enjoy one more delicious meal (she loved her chicken), and spend a little time with each of us, comforting both herself and us by snuggling with us. She laid comfortably next to me in my big chair while I watched TV and played video golf, something she never used to do. She spent time sleeping with each of us that night, letting us feel her gentle energy near us. And yesterday, she remained a tough old bird to the very end, holding on until we got there, wanting to see and feel us one last time. As I stood there stroking her head, I told her quietly that it was okay to let go, and I think she did, and we just helped her to sleep without too much suffering or pain. I vowed before Max passed that I would never let one of my pets die alone, and we reconfirmed that to each other last night that no matter what, we would always be there with them, no matter how painful for us. It's our last responsibility as their guardians.

Even though she and Max never got to meet, we know he was waiting on the other side for her last night, and that they're now running through the woods together, barking at squirrels, sniffing endless trails of wonderful smells, and scrounging every bit of yummy food they can. Lady will have a stone in our garden, just like Max does, probably by the spot where she would always leap and dance past Mrs. J to get back inside for her treat even if she hadn't pottied yet. Her ashes will sit on our mantle next to Max. Her face will soon grace my left shoulder for eternity. Her little bed will probably be taken over by one of the cats who always tried to take when Lady wasn't looking, and that's just how we want it. We won't hear her unique "tickaticka-tickaticka" sound as she ambles around the kitchen looking for scraps. There's a huge hole in our home and our family now, and time will never close it, but we'll continue loving all the others a little extra and savoring our days with them, and sooner or later, another little soul in need will cross our path and join the pack. And we'll look at pictures over and over and laugh and cry remembering what a character she was and how much she enriched our lives in just two short years.

We love you so much Ladybird, and we'll never stop missing you.

Fly High Sweet Bird

2007-08-21T20:40:00.000-05:00

We love you LadyBird. Dogspeed, baby girl.

Lethargic Musical Monday

2007-08-20T08:26:00.000-05:00

I'm feeling quite sluggish and not at all in the mood to be at work today, but unfortunately, I'm the man in charge here today so I can't duck out early or anything. So I'm going to sit here and look in charge but not actually do much of anything all day.

I'm quite worried about our little Beagle. She's been feeling real poorly for the last week, and over the weekend, barely ate her food at all. This is a dog who normally burrows through the trash just so she can lick a wrapper or find a crumb of a Nilla Wafer, but the last couple days she wouldn't eat anything we gave her--hamburger, scrambled eggs, rice, cottage cheese--all of the special stuff for sick dogs, she didn't want it. She's just real tired and disoriented, and we're both getting worried about her. We're actually HOPING it turns out to be diabetes, like what happened with Max before. At least that we can treat and expect a turnaround. Hate to think of the alternatives. She's an old bird, but she's tough, and so so sweet. I know she'll get better, I just hate the waiting. Mrs. J is taking her to the vet this morning, so hopefully she'll be on the mend soon.

So I'm dedicating today's song to my Beagle--Spoon's "The Underdog". Damn catchy tune. Every critic out there seems to love Spoon all of a sudden, but I just like a song with clapping AND horns. And a cool video.

Bro Crush

2007-08-17T14:10:00.000-05:00

I had an interesting realization/thought at the gym yesterday around minute 25 of my pathetic cardio workout, as "The Pretender" picked my tired ass up and made me sprint the last 4 minutes. I want to be Dave Grohl's buddy. I want us to be bros and hang out and drink beer and laugh at stupid shit. I'm not sure if he's up for it or not, but if I get the chance, I might ask. Sure, it could be a bit embarrassing, but what do I have to lose? If he says no, I'll probably never see him again (except for in concert). If he says yes, then I've got a new bud, and maybe I'll learn to play the guitar (I'd try the drums, but I know I'd hurt myself).

Last week's fizzle of a bachelor party for my one real friend reinforced for me that I need some new dude friends. I used to have a bunch, and they were cool, but after college and the few sotted years that followed, we all got married (except for one) and went our separate ways. Every time I get close to having a new group at work, somebody quits or gets fired, and then it's just me and my one friend again. We need a few more people to achieve that critical mass, and it can't just be anybody. You need to be mellow, not one of those screaming fratboy ragers. We're too old for that. You need to love beer, golf, good music, and playing the guitar. You need to not take yourself, what you do, or anything we might say too seriously. You need to not be an asshole, a bigot, a sexist, or a homophobe. And you need to have a soft underbelly and be willing to switch from watching porn on a 70-inch TV to talking about how great it'll be to be a dad (snippet from last week's bachelor pre-party).

I think Dave Grohl would fit that bill perfectly. After watching him goof on himself in numerous Foo videos over the years and watching the classic "24 Hours of Foo" on MTV2 the summer of 2005, I'm pretty sure he'd be a lot of fun to hang with. He'd probably always buy the beer, since he's loaded. I know his politics are right in line with mine (far to the left), so we can bitch about the same things. And his baby seems really cute and well-behaved, even at Live Earth, so I could learn some stuff about being a dad from him. We could go get tattoos together and I'd let him make fun of me when I turn pale and almost pass out. Plus he might give me a guitar, which would be wicked cool. And he would totally be the "hub" friend that has enough pull to get everyone else off their couches and out to party.

I think Mrs. J would support this endeavor. She said she thinks he's cute and funny, and she loves that "Times Like These" song. And she thinks "man love" is really adorable. I just hope he's a golfer too.

HNT Boo

2007-08-15T18:30:00.001-05:00

Every so often, my Boo settles down enough to actually lay with me and take a nap. Or so I've been told, and then shown in photographic evidence, courtesy of Mrs. J. I guess holding his big giant six-toed paw in my hands was enough to calm him down. I was told that we slept like that for quite a while. I frankly don't recall.

Now say hi to me and Boo and then go see other Half-Nekkid People. I've got a wicked cold, I'm going to bed.

Stopmotion Musical Monday

2007-08-13T14:55:00.000-05:00

I like it when I pick a song out of the blue just because it made me sing along today, and then when I find the video on YouTube, it actually turns out to be really cool too. Like a sign that my instinct was right.

This week I've got "One Man Wrecking Machine" by Guster. They're a band that hasn't made it nearly as big as they should. I think we know them a bit better round these parts because they started in Boston and we like our locals. They've had all sorts of sounds over the years and always manage to be original. This is a really cool song with cute little puppets in the video. If you're in the mood for more, their last single "Satellite" was really good too, and "Amsterdam" from their previous album is one of my favoritest songs ever.

Bachelor Party Musings

2007-08-12T18:29:00.001-05:00

I went to my buddy's bachelor party last night and found myself thinking throughout the night, as I often do, about what might be blogworthy today. Unfortunately, we did NOT end up at a nudie bar as planned--they were all way too busy for a Saturday night and our group was poorly planned, so I have no naked dancing stories to relay.

I've been to at least a half-dozen bachelor parties over the last 10 years, and I have to say, with all due modesty, mine was far and away the best one. Which is odd, considering I've never been the "hub" friend or the wildest partier. But in contrast to some of the lame-o outings I've been on, mine was a weekend in Vegas with 10 of my buds, drinking, gambling, watching naked women dance, and seeing Prince in concert. Top that!
I'm of the opinion that bachelor parties should never involve a sit-down catered meal. There should be lots of food, but it should all be of the one-handed, standing-up variety that you can eat while holding a beer and playing pool.
It's weird to realize that you have a lopsided friendship. The groom-to-be is who I consider my best friend, at least here where I live, but I've come to realize I'm not HIS best friend. We're close, and we work together and play golf and drink beer and have surprisingly frank and honest talks for guys, but I think he has that with other guys as well. I'm a bit jealous.
I despise the notion that the bachelor has to get shit-faced at his party. It's HIS night to have fun, and he should do exactly what he wants. Why is there always at least one tool in the group who insists on making him drink shots even after he says no? And why do we have to make such a big deal out of choosing not to drink till you pass out? Why are guys so stupid?
Guinness is perhaps the greatest invention ever. If I could drink it every day and not end up weighing 300 pounds, I would.
I'm officially old. Even though I slept in till 10:00 yesterday and thought I was well-rested, I was yawning by 9:30, and when I got a chance to get a ride home at midnight, I jumped on it so I could be in bed as soon as possible. And I'm totally fine with that.

I think I may finally be over the bachelor part/debauched guys' night out thing. It's too hard to coordinate and it just makes you feel sleepy and guilty and a little queasy. I guess that means I'm finally ready for fatherhood, right?

Good Ol' Rock, Nothing Beats That!

2007-08-10T08:28:00.000-05:00

Mrs. J found this hilarious snippet on a cool site called Found Magazine. Some clever person left it in their math class. Wish I was this witty!

HNT Knot

2007-08-08T19:57:00.000-05:00

See that spot on my neck right where the red arrow is pointing? That's where all my tension and stress from work has collected over the last several weeks. Today was a doozy. Not only did our system crash again, but I had to stay late and ended up missing my haircut appointment, and as you can see, I am in DESPERATE need of a haircut. Came home to a nice quiet dinner with the missus and the furries, and what happens next? Our bathtub and bathroom sink back up and clog, so I'm now not sure if I'll be able to take a shower tomorrow. And it's still wicked freakin' hot and humid here.

But I still have hope for tomorrow. I'm taking a half day, I'm getting my hair cut if it kills me, and I already know I'm playing golf this weekend. So I'm going to finish my beer, go to sleep, and hope it all looks better tomorrow.

Anyone want to help get rid of that knot in my neck? I'm open to any creative ideas.

Now leave me some nice comments and then go see more Half-Nekkid People.

Musically Breakin' the Law

2007-08-06T13:05:00.000-05:00

NEW FOO!!! NEW FOO!!! NEW FOO!!! NEW FOO!!! NEW FOO!!! NEW FOO!!!NEW FOO!!!

Guess what--the new Foo Fighters single is out!! Apparently it wasn't supposed to be till August 13th, but KROQ played it last week, and then I heard it on my local station, and now everybody's posting unauthorized clips on YouTube. Hopefully the one I grabbed today will stay up long enough for you to hear it, because it's simply FUCKING AWESOME! I haven't been this excited about a new album since, well, since the Foos' last album. And this one promises to be even better.

I'm going to get all music geek on you now. I don't do it often, since I find it to be a rather pretentious trait, even in myself. Like that dude who does the music reviews on CBS Sunday Morning, I want to just smack him. But I DID work in a record store for six years in high school and college (yes, it was still a RECORD store for some of that time), and it rubbed off.

[geek]
I'm psyched about this album because it's their first one with the producer they used for "The Colour and the Shape" since that album 10 years ago, and that produced two of the greatest rock songs of all time, "Monkey Wrench" and "Everlong". The first new single "The Pretender" is everything that's great about the Foos all in one. It starts out with a quiet little Led Zeppelin-esque guitar line and a prologue in Dave's "sensitive" voice, followed by a wicked riff and Taylor beating the shit of his drum kit to start things off. The first two lines of the chorus sound like that "One of these kids is doing his own thing" song from Sesame Street, which I love--I bet he did that on purpose. The usual quiet Foo bridge around 2:15 sounds a bit like the Allmans or Skynyrd this time, another nice shout-out to their roots.
[/geek]

Sorry there isn't really a video, but just put this in the background and bang your head for a few minutes. It feels good!

In the words of David Letterman, "We can all sleep easy at night knowing that somewhere at any given time, the Foo Fighters are out there fighting Foo."

HNT Two Long Years

2007-08-01T19:02:00.000-05:00

Two years ago this Saturday, we lost our Max. I've told his story before, if you're in the mood to cry and haven't read it before, feel free. I'm not marking this date as a sad day per se, but rather an acknowledgment of how much I miss him. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about him and remember him.

As much as Mrs. J and I loved him, it was Schmoop that loved him the most. They were inseparable, like a old married couple. We knew she felt the loss when he was gone, though we've been glad to see how much she's bonded with the other dogs and how happy she still seems to be. One of the main reasons I had Max tattooed on my right shoulder is because that's where Schmoop sleeps most nights--between our pillows, her little head resting next to my shoulder. So now she can see her Big Man anytime she wants.

Those of you who've lost a pet know that the pain never really goes away, you never stop missing them. Max was the first pet I really lost, but sadly, I know he won't be the last. We're lucky to have a happy, messy house full of wonderful animals whom we love, but in the back of our minds, we know someday we'll have to say goodbye to each of them. I do my best to not think about it or dwell on it, and simply enjoy what each of them brings into our lives.

We're happy this week to be hosting a houseguest, a little furry friend for our babies, and watching all of them get along and sprawl across our bed reminds me that we're doing a good thing by giving them a home like this. I know Max would love it, and I'm sure he's watching us and smiling that goofy smile of his, probably letting loose one of his wicked farts and laughing about it.

Go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Musical Monkeys

2007-07-30T18:11:00.000-05:00

Long day, late post. Daddy's tired.

Those who know and love me know I'm ALL about the Britpop. Oasis' What's the Story Morning Glory is perhaps THE greatest album ever made (and I say that in full view of my complete catalog of U2 albums), and I keep finding more and more bands, old and new, making groovy-ass music in the UK.

So you might think I was all over the Arctic Monkeys bandwagon last year when everybody and their mother was declaring them the greatest band of the decade and even the "next Oasis". Fat chance. They had a marginally enjoyable single but not much more. But good on them, they've impressed me with their sophomore effort, and this song "Fluorescent Adolescent" is damn catchy. Granted, they've got a long way to go to catch up with Liam and Noel (Wonderwall/Champagne Supernova is a tough one-two punch to top), but they're keeping it real.

If you're interested, the lyrics are pretty cool--something about how you used to have sex but don't anymore, or something like that.

I've Been Tagged...

2007-07-29T10:22:00.000-05:00

...by the alluring and mysterious Shibari.

I gather the point of this is to provide words of blogging wisdom. The instructions are: When this is passed on to you, copy the whole thing, skim the list and put a * star beside those that you like. Then add a new tip of your own.

1. Look, read, and learn. ***-http://www.neonscent.com/
2. Be, EXCELLENT to each other. ****-http://www.bushmackel.com/
3. Don’t let money change ya! ***-http://www.therandomforest.info/
4. Always reply to your comments. **-http://chattiekat.com/
5. Develop your own "voice" don't "borrow" someone else's. **-Mizmouthy
6. If you don't have something to say, don't worry your loyal readers will wait-Oldfashionmomma-
7. Be yourself, don't be afraid to share who you really are. * http://shibari-confessions.blogspot.com

8. If you feel your mind getting lost as you're writing a post, stop and wait for the clouds to clear. Nothing is worse than finishing a post just to finish it and then wondering what the hell you meant to say. -JUnderCovers

I don't tag people, I'm too shy for that.

HNT Grower

2007-07-25T20:14:00.000-05:00

Let me start with this--anyone who sees me as a "brother" and not as a sex object needs to turn around and run away. That means you, Fame, Phain, and Jayna. I'll blather on here for a few more lines so you don't accidentally see something you're not able to handle.

The phrase "grower not a shower" got stuck in my head recently (that's show-er, as in rhymes with grower). I sort of knew what it meant but it hadn't really clicked till Dustin on Big Brother brought it up and then I realized the literal meaning. And then one day last week, I sat naked in front of the air conditioner after a shower to cool down, and was fascinated to see Little J become REALLY Little J, literally shrinking before my eyes. Remember that Seinfeld--yeah, like that. And although I've lived with this thing for 35 years and have spent countless hours playing with him and getting very well acquainted, I was amazed at how much it really does grow.

I think I'm somewhat of a "grower". Sure, my pants are well-filled on an average basis, but I'm not that big at a normal resting state. However, get me going, and I think I think I can compete with some of the best. So I thought I would test my photographic and Photoshop skills and try to give you a composite of me growing. The results are a somewhat mixed bag (no pun intended). I took about eighteen pictures total on the way up (almost to the top), but trying to overlay them into something meaningful proved challenging. And it's a bit weird to sit here for an hour staring at my own cock on my computer screen. So here we go.

This is a combination of the two extremes--starting point to finishing point.

Here's another composite of about seven different shots. I was hoping it would capture the progress better, but overlaying the images made it a bit muddy. Trust me, it was fun.

Now I go where few guys dare to go--a bare, unadorned view of the starting line.

And of course, you knew I was going to give a clear view of the end result too. How could I resist?

Now that you've seen all that, go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Mormon Musical Monday

2007-07-23T13:41:00.000-05:00

No offense intended to any Mormon readers I might have. I just made note of the fact that today's band, The Killers, are Mormons, which must make for a very different kind of rock tour bus. This latest song from their new album, "For Reasons Unknown", has grown on me very quickly despite initially not liking it based on the slightly whiny opening. But hang with it, and you'll find yourself powerless to the pop sensibilities and bit of cowboy swagger that Brandon and his buddies lay down. He may be a bit full of himself, but the guy knows how to right emotional, irresistible songs. Plus the whole campfire theme in the video immediately made me think of the farting scene in Blazing Saddles, which made me giggle like a little girl.

Recipe for a Fabulous Weekend

2007-07-22T19:00:00.000-05:00

An overnight switch from 90 degrees/90% humidity to mid-70s and beautiful
Two pitchers of Cuervo Gold margaritas (in bed)
Swordfish steaks grilled with lime tequila marinade
A free facial for the wife (no, not that kind, you pervs)
A fantastic turn of events on Big Brother
Eighteen holes of golf on a perfect day at my favorite course with a cart babe that serves Guinness
New York Strip steaks grilled to perfection with Montreal seasoning, complemented perfectly by spicy lime-buttered corn, mushrooms, and taters
A quiet Sunday evening sitting on the front stoop cleaning my clubs, watching Mrs. J water the plants and the dogs bask in the setting sun
A Tivo full of good stuff to watch

Dare I risk the perfection by saying a blowjob would top it all off perfectly?

HNT In the Sun

2007-07-18T18:12:00.000-05:00

This past weekend out on Cape Cod was so completely idyllic and perfect (even though it only lasted for 30 hours!) it inspired me to reveal a bit more. Mrs. J and I spent only about an hour on the beach on Sunday--we're not big "beach people", and it was really crowded, but we just had to. But it was a great hour, so relaxing and recharging, and absolutely beautiful. And lots of good people-watching too. So here I am, more of me than you've ever seen before...

When I showed Mrs. J which picture I was using this week, she said you might as well just write "I'm Blankity Blank from Blank, Rhode Island" across the picture. But you know, I just don't care. It's not like someone I know would be reading this blog for any period of time and need to see this picture to figure out who I am. I'm hardly discreet with personal details, and anybody who knows me at all could figure it out. Besides, I still stand by my theory that it would be tremendously amusing for someone I know to try to tell me that they've read my blog and seen my nekkidness. More uncomfortable for me than for them.

For those of you not lucky enough to have been to the beach yet this year, here's another view of the merriment. Even with so many unattractive people around, it was a beautiful, beautiful day.

And next week, I've already got a great idea for a photo essay of sorts. All I'm going to say is that it involves "growth"--you can interpret that as you wish.

Now go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Can't Think of a Clever Title Musical Monday

2007-07-15T20:14:00.000-05:00

Sorry, the clever-title neurons are not firing today. I do feel rather recharged after a fantastic 30-hour getaway this weekend, but it's making the rest of the workday seem awfully long and tedious. We had a great time on the Cape this weekend. It was almost the perfect amount of time to be away--long enough to feel like we were somewhere else, not so long that the dogs got terribly upset with us, and plenty of room in the truck for stuff we just had to buy. We found our slightly chessy "Cuddle and Bubble" hotel to be absolutely fascinating. Besides the huge room with the jacuzzi for two (which we enjoyed immensely), we had a great time trying to figure out all the other guests we saw. My theory is that it's a swingers' place, although looking at some of the people there sort of ruined the appeal of that concept. The show Saturday night was hilarious, the weather was gorgeous all weekend, and the Cape could just not be any more fucking adorable. Once you get away from the depressing tourist strip on the south side, the rest of it is one charming little house after another, tons of beautiful gardens and antique shops and fresh produce and fabulous ocean views.

I picked today's song, "Baby Come Back" by Player, for three main reasons. One, it's an awesome fucking song no matter how old it is (30 years for the record). Two, Mrs. J and I watch "The Bold and the Beautiful" almost every evening (it's the one soap she's stuck with, and got me hoooked on too), and the bass player in this band is now Ridge Forrester on the show, so it's endlessly amusing for us to see him way back when. Three, and most important, this song has always reminded me of riding in my dad's car to the beach, windows down (no air back then), AM radio playing songs like this or Eddie Money or Steely Dan. Not necessarily my first choice of music, but the memories make up for it. Driving out to the Cape this weekend, I had that flashback moment when this song came up on my iPod, and to even further enhance it, we actually passed by the motel we stayed at on our first ever overnight trip back when I was like 5. I remembered it from the postcard my mom has put in our photo album, and the place looked exactly the same. Not someplace I'd want to stay NOW, but good memories nonetheless.

In searching for this video, I discovered that the song is apparently enjoying a resurgence in popularity because it's featured in the Transformers movie. So I just want to be on the record as saying that I loved this song BEFORE it became cool again--it's been in my iPod for almost two years, and I've had it in regular rotation on my playlists for quite a while. Not to mention that the Simpsons already put it to its best use ever when it played as the hold music when Homer called the missing baby hotline to report that Maggie had disappeared.

The Return of Found Porn Friday

2007-07-13T11:02:00.001-05:00

My loyal readers may remember back in the olden days, I used to post "Found Porn" every Friday. But alas, the well ran dry and I had to discontinue that series. Well, thanks to my darling little sister Phain, I have one for you today. She was clever and kind enough to snap this picture while driving the other day, and saw fit to share it with me.

If there's really good money to be made in trailing eager beavers, it seems like that might be a fun job. Of course, just because they're eager doesn't mean they'd necessarily like being trailed, so you are taking a risk. But it's worth it, I'd say.

The missus and I are actually going away this weekend. Just for one night, out to the Cape to see a show and spend a little time soaking in the seashore and stuff like that. I think the biggest thing is that it'll be our first night away from our furry bed buddies in over a year. We've almost forgotten what it's like to sleep without them. Yes, it does hamper our ability to cuddle in bed and other stuff, but I don't think either of us would trade it. They're all so damn cute. Regardless, we're looking forward to our luxurious evening at the "Cuddles and Bubbles Inn", with our giant heart-shaped jacuzzi for two.

I swear there was something else I had been thinking about posting, but my brain is mush today. I'm hungry as all hell, but I slept too late to have breakfast, and I don't feel like ordering lunch because I'm leaving early, so I'll just starve till we get dinner later and then I go from empty to bloated full in a matter of 15 minutes. Good times.

HNT Muggy

2007-07-11T19:32:00.000-05:00

It is absolutely disgusting around here. Hot. Humid. Muggy. Gross. I absolutely HAD to go to the driving range this afternoon (if you'd seen me play on Sunday you'd understand), even though it felt like walking through soup outside. So after hitting 150 balls (most very well I might add), I looked something like this.

I didn't sweat this much after thirty minutes of cardio at the gym yesterday. Disgusting. I don't like being sweaty. Never have. Maybe under certain special circumstances, but definitely not during golf. Fortunately I was able to jump into a nice cool shower and now I'm clean and dry and smelling relatively good in my cool air-conditioned bed. Ahhhh.....

Now go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Live Musical Monday

2007-07-09T09:00:00.000-05:00

Before our musical interlude, I need to vent for a moment. I'm going to do it 2Pac style, like he did in I Don't Give a Fuck.

Fuck you to the foursome playing ahead of me yesterday, taking their damn sweet time on every damn hole and even having the nerve to make us wait while one of them talked on their cell phone!

Fuck you to the lady entering and exiting Dunkin Donuts ahead of me today who didn't even bother to look behind her as she went through the door, much less hold the door open for me for a second.

Fuck you to my golf clubs for betraying me and making me look like a horrible golfer playing with my boss.

Fuck you to these days of 93 degrees and 95% humidity.

Fuck you to the idiot driving 10 miles under the speed limit, talking on their phone, and then suddenly making a right turn with no blinker that almost piled up four of us on top of her.

Fuck you to the degenerate morons on my block who are STILL setting off illegal fireworks, and an extra fuck you to the ones who left the fucking debris in my yard and didn't clean it up.

Okay, I'm better now.

Summer is officially here--Big Brother has started! Mrs. J and I will be playing voyeur for the next three months, peeping in on the 14 freaks they've gathered in the house this year. Although we're still not sure if we'll actually find anyone we like in this year's cast, we're keeping an open mind. And I think the producers are having some sneaky fun with us this year. Here's a verbatim sequence from Sunday's episode, describing the food competition where the players had to douse themselves in butter in order to win their food for the week: One guy says "This is going to be balls to the wall", and one of the ladies (the Bible-toting holier-than-thou one) reads "Get ready to squirt big loads of hot butter all over your eager teammates!" from her script. I kid you not. One of the producers is being clever and dirty and I love it.

I caught quite a bit of the Live Earth concerts this weekend, and the highlight of it was far and away the Foo Fighters performance from London. These guys are my second favorite band (U know who number 1 is) ever, and they fuckin' rocked Wembley like nobody else. They were so good, I'll give you two options today. The first video is "All My Life", perfect if you're in the mood for some headbanging. The second video is an amazing version of "Everlong"--be sure to listen past the 4 minutes mark when you THINK he's done (but he's not). The sound isn't great on these, clearly the YouTubers need better hookups.

I cannot wait for their new album this fall, and you can believe I'll be back to see them on tour doing my best impression of someone who's not too old to jump up and down and scream with Dave.

HNT the Fourth

2007-07-04T18:12:00.000-05:00

So I'll play along with Os's theme for this week on one condition--I get a bit of a rant here. I'll do my best to not be too confrontational, since I know some of my dear friends have different views than I do, but I gotta say what I feel.

In all honesty, I could give a rat's ass about the Fourth of July lately. Of course I love my country, but I don't exactly feel like celebrating it the last several years. Actually, I want it back. I want my country back from the corrupt, incompetent assholes who are screwing it up and making everyone around the world hate us. I want it back from the scumbags who break our laws and then let each other off the hook with a wink and a reacharound. I want it back from the phony-baloney "opposition" who promised us a fresh start last year and have only delivered more of the same self-serving bullshit. And on a more personal note, I would like to be able to enjoy my day (and night) off without the assholes across the street ruining it with illegal fireworks that litter my yard and scare my dogs, not to mention shattering the peace of my evening.

All that said, we did have a relatively traditional 4th of July cookout today. The weather wasn't great, but good enough to cook some Paula Deen bleu-cheese burgers and corn on the grill. With an audience of course. Nothing ever happens in our house without at least one pair of furry eyeballs on us. Nothing.

Now on to the main event. As you might have heard, yesterday was my 35th birthday. So naturally, I felt I should post a picture in my birthday suit. I'll give my little sisters a few empty lines so they can turn around and not peek. Ready?

That's me, nothing hidden but my face. Click it to make everything bigger, although some of it's not getting any bigger right now--it was chilly in there. Hope the next 35 years are kind. Now go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Smashing Musical Monday

2007-07-02T14:17:00.001-05:00

Yeah baby, the Smashing Pumpkins are back! Okay, technically it's only Billy and Jimmy, but really, it's all about Billy and his genius. I think he should get Jimmy hooked on smack again, since that's when they were their best. This song is a great reboot for them, back to wailing, crunching guitars and some happy/angry nonsense spewing from Billy's scary little bald head. This video is pretty freaky too, between his cult-leader robes and all the random chicks pretending to be backup musicians. He's like an alt-rock Jim Jones or something.

Thirty-Five Schmirty-Five

2007-06-30T20:10:00.000-05:00

So I turn 35 on Tuesday. Big fucking deal. I honestly am not bothered by it in the least. I've thought for a while that it's only really significant in two ways... 1) I move from the desirable 18-34 demographic into the less-desirable but hopefully more affluent 35-49 demo, and 2) I am now eligible to run for President. And if I do, all you fuckers better keep your traps shut about all the enis-pay ictures-pay I've posted on this blog. There will be Cabinet positions for those with the most discretion and loyalty. Anyway, we decided to celebrate tonight since on Tuesday we'll be busy comforting the dogs as the idiots on our block try to blow their hands off with illegal fireworks.

We went out to a real fancy dinner at Ruth's Chris downtown. I said I wanted a big freakin' steak and I got one, sizzling in butter. Not to mention a whole slew of delicious side dishes and a fantastic bottle of Zinfandel from our old stomping ground of Sonoma County. Have you ever been the FIRST people in a restaurant? Well we were tonight. We thought the place opened at 4 so we made reservations for 5--we like to eat early so we can get home to the dogs. Well, they open at 5, so we were the first people there. A bit intimidating, especially when you've got 40 waitstaff standing around. But it was a lovely afternoon, so we sat out on the patio overlooking the river, and had an absolutely fantastic meal.

There really are few experiences as enjoyable as a completely leisurely meal. We sat and talked and enjoyed the weather and the view. Mrs. J even went to the trouble of trying to save a gnat (yes, a gnat, as in "she wouldn't hurt a gnat") who she accidentally trapped under her wine glass. We believe he made it. After dinner we went shopping, which is always more fun with a bottle of wine in your system and a shiny new credit card in your wallet. It all made up for how badly I played golf earlier today. And we're enjoying our dessert now, in bed, with a shakerful of chocolate martinis to wash it all down. Sometimes life is just good.

HNT Letting it Hang Out

2007-06-27T18:15:00.000-05:00

It may not look like there's a lot of chest hair peeking out of my shirt here, but trust me, this is a big move for me. Prior to this summer, I used to always wear t-shirts under my shirts, even in the summer, largely to contain what I thought of as an excess of hair. But when I found these kickass Banana Republic shirts this year--pima cotton polos with shorter-than-normal sleeves which reveal a bit of my bicep tattoo--I not only bought six in all different colors, I decided it was time to just embrace my furry side and let it all hang out. And now there's no going back--I can't imagine going back to two layers again, especially on a 95-degree day like this.

It was part of my irrational self-consciousness that kept my chest hair under cover. There isn't much logic involved in social anxiety, just a lot of silly self-doubt and self-created worries. I'm sure nobody else would have thought what I thought to myself, that undoing that second button and letting some hair show would make me look like Larry Dallas and automatically condemn me to the loser bin. In fact, it was some of you people (along with my crazy pills) that helped me appreciate me as I am, hair and all, and to even now be able to look at myself in a white button-down shirt with TWO buttons undone and think, Damn I look good!

Since there's some of you out there who like this sort of thing, here's the full carpet. It's really not that bad. And as Mrs. J has gratefully pointed out several times, my back is nearly hairless, which is a bonus. Did I mention I shaved two summers ago? I mean EVERYTHING! Itched like a motherfucker, and it all grew back exactly the same within three months. No more, I've learned my lesson. The only spots I shave now are my face (around the gooch) and of course, the boys and just around the base of the tree. If anybody's got a hankering to see that, I'll be taking requests through the end of the summer.

Now go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Late Musical Monday

2007-06-25T19:01:00.000-05:00

For the first time in quite a while, I spent nearly all of Monday away from my computer. I got to take off work today and play golf with my boss and one of our vendors. Even better, it was free, and it was one of the best public courses in the area. And best of all, I played a thousand times better than I did yesterday, which was an absolute nightmare of shanked shots and horrible, horrible scores. Today was fabulous, lots of sun and much better golf. Of course, it's going to make the next four days awfully tedious waiting for the weekend to get here so I can play again. I wonder if this is what it's like to be hooked on smack.

Anyway, this song has been rattling around my iPod a lot the last few weeks. More Britpop, this time "Black and White Town" by Doves. A little mopey, especially the video, but I like the bounce of the song and the way the piano and the fuzzed-out guitars work together. Phain, I only expect you to make it about 20 seconds this time--you're excused.

Communication

2007-06-23T17:16:00.000-05:00

Today we took the dogs to a "pet communicator". Go ahead, I'll pause for a second in case any of you feel the need to snort or roll your eyes. Got it out of your system? Good, then I'll proceed. We knew it was possible that it would be a lot of hot air, but we also both thought it would be interesting to give it a shot and see if she could tell us anything interesting about our little fur babies. We know there are people out there who can make special connections with people or pets, so why not try it?

It was indeed quite interesting. After a somewhat hectic car ride (try making four dogs sit still in the backseat!) and having to kill an extra half hour walking around the area, we went and sat in a quiet backroom with the communicator. She spent a few minutes saying hi to everyone and getting names straight and then asked us what we wanted to know. We were a bit unprepared, but basically told her each of their stories and asked her about the things which we've always wondered about them but can't quite get them to tell us. I was aware that it did open the possibility for us to lead her to the answers we wanted to hear, but I also felt like she really did connect with each of them. Watching her lay her hands on them and close her eyes and seeing each of them grow calm under her touch was fascinating. Hearing her tell us that poor little Schmoop misses our Max terribly made me choke up a bit, even though I knew that from day one, and hearing that having the Beagle around now helped her get through her grief was a comfort. She told us that the Boy thinks he's the baby of the house and he's the cutest, which is patently obvious just from looking at him. She told us that my Tot would not reveal anything about her past before we found her, that she kept up a wall, which seemed perfectly understandable since she was clearly abused and neglected and now could not be a happier dog. It makes me feel better to know that she refuses to even think about that part of her life and that she only thinks of herself as our dog.

So nothing the woman told us was surprising or revealing, but I don't think I expected there to be. But what she did say, several time, was that they all seem to her to be extremely happy, and that she was amazed at how well-adjusted a pack they are and how they all get along and don't fight one bit. And she also said several times how lucky they all were to be together in our home and to have crossed our paths when they did. The circumstances under which we found each of them were so fortuitous, it's more than just a coincidence. They each found us right when they needed to, when their very lives depended on it, and fortunately for them, we've never met a dog we didn't want to keep. We didn't plan on having four dogs, but there's no way we can imagine not having them now. Each of them is a special little soul that needed not only us, but each other, and it made us feel very good to hear from someone else that what we've done is impressive and special.

We're going to have her come for a house call in the near future to see if she can communicate with our cats. We've got some issues with them that we'd love some explanations about, so we're willing to give it another shot. Even if she doesn't tell us anything groundbreaking, at least we'll get lots of compliments on how nice our house and garden are and how well-behaved our pets are.

This is a pretty fantastic weekend for me. I left work a bit early yesterday and got my hair cut, which always makes me feel good (not to mention how enjoyable having someone shampoo your head is). The weather is absolutely perfect,not too hot, a nice breeze and fresh clean air. Today was a nice leisurely day spent with the dogs, first on our little ride, and then later lounging on the deck in the sun. We've got a couple movies to watch tonight. And then I play golf early tomorrow morning, which leaves me most of the day to relax and putter around the house. And then best of all, I play golf AGAIN on Monday, this time on a vendor's dime with some people from work at one of the best courses in Massachusetts, and I don't have to go to work. So a three-day weekend with two full rounds of golf, pretty hard to beat. Hope you all have a similarly fab weekend.

HNT Welcome Home

2007-06-20T18:39:00.000-05:00

I'm almost always guaranteed an enthusiatic welcome home from the dogs, especially from my little Tot. She dances around and sings me a little Schnauzer Song, and then runs upstairs and waits for me on the bed. She demands attention while I undress and change, so I typically have to stop a few times and make out with her a little bit. Mrs. J captured our daily reunion this afternoon. You haven't lived till you've had a Schnauzer sing to you and kiss your face.

I promise you, she's enjoying it, even though it looks like I'm smothering her. She wouldn't have it any other way.

Now go see some other Half-Nekkid People!

Shiny Musical Monday

2007-06-18T13:21:00.000-05:00

Yesterday and today were very unpleasant days for me work-wise, so I'm choosing a song that makes me feel happy and upbeat. It's like it's the 80s all over again. "You Are The One" by Shiny Toy Guns. I like it so much I'm going to risk Phain calling me a pussy two weeks in a row. Like any good big brother would, I'll just stick out my tongue and pretend I don't hear her. Everybody else come dance!

My Drugs of Choice

2007-06-16T20:31:00.001-05:00

I have had the best weekend so far. I left work a couple hours early yesterday to meet an appraiser at the house (taking a loan, not moving), so I ended up with a three-hour head-start to the weekend. The weather was absolutely perfect yesterday and today, sunny, warm but not muggy, everything blooming. We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening basically lolling around the deck and the house, the warm soft air creating a very soothing sensation. Had some pizza, watched a movie, cuddled with each other and the dogs, and got a great night's sleep. This morning I woke up and followed through with my resolution to play golf whether I had a partner or not.

I had made tentative plans with my buddy from work (my usual playing partner), plus a couple of knobs from Craigslist who said they might want to play. None of them were at the course when I arrived, so I said "fuck it" and queued up anyway. I got grouped up with a nice threesome of older gentlemen, one of whom was an eerie and amusing Paulie Walnuts guy, the kind of character I've only ever met here in Rhode Island. I started out with a beautiful 280-yard drive and par'ed the first hole, and we had a great round. The weather was absolutely perfect, and I found myself feeling blissfully relaxed every time we reached a green and I squatted in the sun and breathed in that magical scent of cut grass. I bought a round of beers for my new friends after we finished, and felt absolutely satisfied with my day as I left. And to top it off, Mrs. J and I went and ate an early dinner and bought a fantastic canopied daybed for our deck, big enough for both of us AND all four dogs to lounge and enjoy our garden. We finished the day with all of us snuggled together in the gentle breezes, hoping the rest of the summer stays like this.

I'm just finding that this type of weather has a profoundly relaxing effect on me. I love how the air feels blowing through our house with all the windows open, and walking out in the morning and feeling that warm comfortable sun. And I honestly could play golf all day long, round after round, if I had the option. Even when I don't play as well as I'd like, I find it utterly enjoyable and challenging and interesting. And as I keep gaining confidence in my ability to play with "strangers" and hold my own, I'm finding a whole new dimension that I never appreciated much before, actually making new friends. Who knew?

So the lovely and charming Charlie tagged me today, which is pretty cool. I've never been tagged by a Brit before! Mrs. J and I are Anglophiles in a way--we love BBC America and Eddie Izzard and would love to move to the UK if it weren't for the damn pet quarantine laws. I know Mrs. J would love to be tagged by a Brit--Gordon Ramsay to be specific. But I digress. On to what I was tagged to do, which is to name eight random facts/habits about yourself. I've done similar tags before, so I won't worry about repeating myself, since I seem to have some new readers.

At least three or four times a day, while sitting at my desk at work, I take a little 10x Tweezerman mirror and tweezers out of my drawer and pluck the stray eyebrow nubs in my old unibrow zone. It's my new compulsion, better than chewing my cuticles.
Since Charlie mentioned a kneecap thing, I'll mention mine. I dislocated my right kneecap in a high school football game--popped clear around to the side of my leg, knocked me unconscious for a few minutes. And then about 10 years later, it happened again, out of the blue, during a basketball game, and I had to have my buddy Dan pop it back in for me. Still makes me shudder to think about it.
One of our cats, the one we've had the longest, is absolutely in love with me, and unfortunately, doesn't seem to care much for Mrs. J. I think the reason she loves me so much is that I talk to her like she talks to me, basically echoing her meows like a conversation. She loves it--she'll sit on the bathroom counter waiting for me to get out of the shower so we can finish our conversation. Then every night after we've gotten into bed, she'll climb up and sit next to me and chatter away to me and knead on my arm with her paw. In fact, she's doing that right this second, and seems a bit annoyed that I'm not focussing ALL my attention on her.
Paulie Walnuts (see above) is my favorite Sopranos character, and what I'll miss most about the show. He cracked me up every single week, and I was physically ill from anxiety this season when it looked like he might get whacked. I was so glad he survived and our last glimpse of him was sunning himself with his little aluminum board in front of the pork store.
There is a rogue patch of very dark, thick hair on the right side of my stomach, right at the bottom of my rib cage, that stands out from the rest of my man fur. When I shaved a few years ago, it grew right back. I believe it's somehow fertilized by my liver, and years of beer are somehow seeping through and making that patch extra fertile.
Of all the foods I find myself craving on this diet, the one thing I find myself wanting every single day, even when I've just had it, is my favorite takeout dinner from our local diner--a Philly cheesesteak wrap, fries, and buffalo tenders. I think I could eat it every single day (although I'd drop dead within a year if I did).
I went to therapy two years ago because I was depressed after my Max died and because I believed I suffered from social anxiety, and it was one of the best things I've ever done for myself.
I've learned over the course of my year-plus of blogging that I like showing myself naked. But I think I always sort of knew that, I just didn't have a socially acceptable way of doing it till I found blogging.

Now I know I'm supposed to tag 8 people, but I'm not going to, because I don't think there are even 8 people left who read my blog. And I hate to impose. So if you read this and you feel like playing, consider yourself tagged. Or schpanked, whichever you prefer.

HNT Fair and Balanced

2007-06-13T18:56:00.000-05:00

In the interest of fairness to those of you who voiced a preference for boxer briefs last week, I've recreated last week's HNT in boxer briefs. So now you have the opportunity to fairly compare and contrast and make an informed selection

I used Photoshop's smudge tool to mask my bathroom background again, but I had to leave my Tot un-retouched in the corner there. She's just too adorable to smudge.

These are actually my favorite pair of boxer briefs right now. They're extremely soft (even though they're all the same brand, certain colors seem to be softer and more comfy than others) and stay nice and snug even after wearing them all day. Nothing is more annoying than baggy, bunchy drawz.

Oh, I guess I forgot to warn my little sisters away, but you wouldn't come here if you didn't really want to sneak a peek. It's okay, I'm still mostly covered.

Now everybody PLEASE leave me a comment this week. That's right, I'm being a total comment whore today. I felt very lonely and neglected last week. After you do that, go see other Half-Nekkid People.

Weird Musical Monday

2007-06-11T12:16:00.000-05:00

I'm sure Phain will call me a pussy again for picking this song, but I'll make up for it by blasting "Vicarious" and "The Pot" during my workout today. Anyway, this is one weird, creepy video, and the song which you first think is annoying turns out to be insanely catchy. It's "Young Folks" by these Swedish guys named Peter, Bjorn and John, along with some guest female singer from another Swedish band. I'm 1/4 Swedish, so I feel obligated to occasionally shout out to the Motherland, and it can't always be ABBA. Personally, I think there's something more sinister happening in this video than is readily apparent. Either that or there's an orgy about the break out. You know how those Swedes are.

Catnip

2007-06-10T19:47:00.000-05:00

Last night Mrs. J and I went to a friend's house to hang out. Technically, her former employer from her last nanny job, and the occasion was the youngest boy's birthday. But really, it was just an excuse for us to hang out and drink wine and have some adult conversation. Not a common occurrence for us--we tend to keep to ourselves. But we love these people, and they consider Mrs. J to be part of their family. So anyway, I posted last year about how I became the talk of the town simply by hanging out with the women at the last gathering. Well, apparently they haven't forgotten. Last night I heard over and over how EVERYBODY was talking about me and how I set all the ladies aflutter and how jealous they are of Mrs. J.

It's a bit weird for me. I'm not used to that kind of attention. Not to say I don't enjoy it, but I don't take it too terribly seriously. These women are all about 10-15 years older than me, not quite a generation gap, but not quite peers either. I still feel very much the youngster with them, although last night we seemed to be pretty much on the same page about our attitudes towards kids, college, the idiocies of our administration and our hopes for 2008, etc, etc. The fact that I clearly ENJOY sitting and talking with my wife and a group of women rather than hiding inside watching baseball or something makes me quite appealing. Showing them my tattoos seemed to add to the appeal. Mrs. J finds it very amusing and maybe a bit concerning that I'm going to get a big head.

After we got home, as I was undressing for bed, I asked her, half-jokingly, "What is it that makes me like catnip for these women? Is it just that I'm so fucking hot or what?" She rolled her eyes and sighed. We agreed that I must look good in comparison to their husbands, or especially their exes who have by now disappointed or left them in some cases. I'm just young enough to be a boytoy without being inappropriate, aside from the fact that I'm already taken. As we flipped through the Target ad this morning, I pointed to the "dad" holding a cute little girl in pink and said "Boy, that would make me irresistible to those broads, being a dad too." Mrs. J replied that she was not about to get pregnant just to make those women more jealous of her. That wasn't my intention, but I do think a part of her really enjoys them being so envious of her. She spent many years as "the help" over there, being looked down upon just because she worked for one of them. Now that we're all more or less equals (they just have nicer houses and cars than we do), she's got something to feel a little superior about.

For me, it's still a new thing, and I'm appreciating it as much as I should. I spent most of my teens and twenties feeling less attractive than everyone I hung around with, always the third wheel, never the one being sought out. To know that some horny older women talk about me, and maybe fan themselves or raise an eyebrow or two, well, it's just fun. Nothing more than that, just nice to know you're being appreciated. At the end of the day, I'm still just me, "far from perfect" as Mrs. J told them all last night, but apparently with a strange, mystical power over 40-something suburban wives.

Fishin'

2007-06-08T18:56:00.000-05:00

Okay, I was all set to come on here tonight and pout about the fact that I only got 6 comments on my HNT and that nobody seems to be reading my blog anymore. But then I saw a new comment from a new reader (welcome Shibari!), and then I checked my stats and saw that my traffic is actually on an upward trend lately. So I'll abort my plans for the pity party, and instead just strike a bargain. If you come here and read but don't comment, please at least say hi once in a while. I like to know people stop in and enjoy themselves, even for a few minutes. If you DON'T like what you see, or you're bored, let me know, tell me what you'd like to hear about. I have definitely had a bit of the "blahgs" lately (I think I owe Madame X a royalty for that term and haven't felt terribly motivated to write a lot lately. But I do like the comfort and continuity of posting at least a few times a week, and even though my circle of bloggy friends has shrunk a bit, it's still a bit of family. Those of who have stuck around are real friends for me.

I know that everybody interacts with their blog and others in different ways. My habit is that unless I'm terribly busy, I spend a while every morning cruising down my blogroll and seeing what's new with everyone. If I go more than a couple days without reading the latest from Fame, Phain, AAG, Madame X, my dear departed Artful Dodger, Jayna, Shay, I feel a bit disconnected. But I don't comment as often as I should, not as often as I'd like to have people comment for me. But your blogs all feed me in some way and make me feel good and centered.

I'm hoping that over the next few weeks, I find my voice and my footing again. The focus of this blog has changed over the 18 months I've been doing it, but it's remained basically about ME, whatever I feel like sharing at the moment, and I'm going to get back to that. So thanks for hanging in and riding out the blahgs with me.

HNT Back in Briefs

2007-06-06T18:57:00.000-05:00

WARNING!!! My sisters Fame and Phain and my twin Jayna need to turn around and walk away from the blog right now. You might be traumatized by the following picture!

Okay, now that they're gone, let's proceed. About a year ago, I switched to boxer briefs after years of regular old briefs. I found them quite comfortable, not to mention flattering in pictures. But a couple weeks ago, when it began to turn summery around these parts, I found myself drawn back to my briefs. It was like a revelation--I felt so free and breezy, even wearing pants at work. My thighs could breathe! When it was 95 degrees out, the idea of covering my thighs in two layers just seemed excessive and oppressive. So I think I'm back on briefs for the next few months, just while it's warm and I need the air. What do you think?

Oh, and my awesome new laptop (Thinkpad T60p with the widescreen and fingerprint thingy) has Photoshop on it, so I took advantage of the smudge tool to mask the messy bathroom behind me. Bet you can't even tell there's a litterbox there!

Now leave me a comment and then go see other Half-Nekkid people.

Holy Crap--Eight Years!

2007-06-05T18:50:00.000-05:00

Yes, today is my eighth wedding anniversary. Just eight years ago, right about this time, I was standing on a beach in Kauai saying "I do". And here we are, 2922 days later, 5000 miles or so away, living with eight more "people" than we did then. It's really impossible for me to remember my life before her, or to think of life without her, which is just as well since we promised to never leave each other no matter how crazy or unstable either of us become. She is my best friend in the best sense of the phrase. Sometimes I hear couples say that being "friends" isn't the same as being real partners or whatever, but I think it's the core of everything. I wouldn't want to spend every day and night with someone who wasn't my best friend, and I think it's a great thing that on the whole, we'd rather spend our time together, and alone, than with anyone else. We're pretty damn happy here in our little bubble.

According to this article, leather is the modern gift for the eight anniversary, so if anyone wants to, we could use some new toys.

For those of you who have not yet found wedded (or partnered bliss), let me leave you with a few bits of wisdom from my favorite advice guides...
For the man seeking a bride...

It is a dreadful thing when fellows go wrong on sexual sins, but it is infinitely worse when girls commit fornication. Not only are their bodies grievously wronged with this sin, but their souls are deeply and irrevocably stained for life.
It may be that you're not too handsome. Perhaps you have a face only a mother could love (you think). Suppose you have knobby knees and big feet. Well, don't dismay. It could be that she likes fellows with big feet. Some girls inexplicably do.

For the woman seeking a groom...

Suppose first of all, you're not a raving beauty. Suppose your nose is too big or too small or too shiny or too straight. Suppose you have freckles or fallen arches or straight hair or big feet. What of it? You're in a class with a great many others. And believe me, the lack of perfection in beauty does not stand in the way of your successful marriage.
Deep down in everyone's heart there is utter disgust for the cheap boy and even more for the cheap girl. Decent girls would highly resolve never to accept any dates with such pawing Romeos. And decent fellows would vow solemnly that this is the kind of girl they certainly would not want to marry.

From "How to Pick A Wife for Christian Fellows" and "How to Get A Husband for Christian Girls", by William Orr (1953). I love how both books play the same angles on guys and girls, but it's the girls who seem to have the least wiggle room. I mean, sleep with one guy on a drunken prom night and you're doomed to be a spinster! Thank goodness neither of us followed these rules.

Soggy Musical Monday

2007-06-04T10:09:00.000-05:00

Today would have been a great day to stay in bed, even more so than usual. It's pouring here, and actually a bit chilly, and it was so hard getting up today with my little Schmoop resting her face on my pillow right next to me. She was so toasty and cozy, I just wanted to crawl back down under the covers and sleep all day. Alas, I have to come sit here and be somewhat productive. At least the rain is well-timed--I mowed our lawn and reseeded the bare spots yesterday, so everything's getting a good soaking.

This song has got me bouncing in my chair pretty consistently lately--"Paralyzer" by Finger Eleven. I respect rockers who aren't afraid to make you dance. Plus I think they're Canadian, which is always worth a few extra cred points.

Dream Theater

2007-06-02T19:18:00.000-05:00

I've been having some really weird and complicated dreams lately. Mostly in the morning, after I feed the dogs and come back to bed, right before I get up for the day. This morning's was a doozy--first Mrs. J and I were away at some sort of camp, and at some point I was playing golf with a pro, and then my bag went missing, and I was convinced that the pro had stolen my bag and my clubs. Turned out they were in my car all along (which is true, they're right in the backseat). Then things switched gears to a common theme for me--searching for/discovering extra rooms in my house. This time we found an entire wing of the house behind the living room that had gone unused for four years, and we were making plans about how we could make it our master suite and never have to climb the stairs again. In the midst of all that, some guys showed up and started telling us how the house was infested with termites and we needed to have some major treatment and it was going to cost a lot of money. And I was getting pissed because we hadn't even asked them to come out, and I was sure it was a scam, like those Irish Travelers who go around and sell services they don't do. Anyway, after I told Mrs. J about it, we realized how easily influenced I am by what we watch on TV--House Hunters for the looking at rooms in the house, The Riches for the Irish Travelers, and golf... well, I'm always thinking about golf.

Speaking of theater, if you have a chance and you want to laugh your ass off, go see "Knocked Up". We went today for date night (more like afternoon), and I absolutely loved it. It was laugh-out-loud funny through nearly the entire thing, but also incredibly smart and sweet and even made me cry at the end when the baby came. Despite everyone's warnings, it did nothing to discourage us from our plan of trying to get pregnant this year. Well, nothing for me, maybe a little bit for Mrs. J, but she's got the hard part. I just love Judd Apatow's movies (this and "The 40-Year-Old Virgin", not to mention everything he's ever written for TV. They just speak my language, and they make me feel like it's perfectly okay and normal to be a totally raunchy smartass and a big softie all at the same time. Plus, you don't hear a line like "Steely Dan gargles my balls" every day. I'm still laughing.

HNT Hangin' Out

2007-05-30T19:14:00.001-05:00

Just me, hanging out on the deck yesterday, playing hooky from work, trying to get a little color onto my legs. It's not easy with all that fur. But it felt damn good to just sit and relax for an hour. Whoever invented the Adirondack chair was a genius. My ass was meant to be low to the ground. Not to mention that I'm extra comfortable now that I've switched back to briefs for the summer. Hmm, I think I know what NEXT week's HNT will be...

I was also watching Mrs. J water our backyard--she loves to work that hose (go ahead, make your jokes, I always do!). She's done magic with our little patch of garden. When we moved in, it was nothing but mud and a fugly swing set. As you can see below, we've come a long way, and it only took three years!

Give us a little comment love and then go look at other Half-Nekkid People.

Playing Hooky

2007-05-29T18:45:00.000-05:00

Shhhh! Don't tell anyone, but I skipped work early today. I realized by 9:00 that I was really fucking bored with everything I had to do today, and there was no way I was going to make it till 5 without getting very cranky. So I made up a little story about having to go to the vet and bailed out a couple hours early, just to spend the afternoon with Mrs. J and the dogs. Amazing how rejuvenating a couple stolen hours can be, especially when you spend them sitting on the deck in the sun or driving through the country. If anybody's figured out how to pay one's mortgage whilst sitting on one's ass at home, let me know, I might be interested.

I saw this clown on my drive home from golf yesterday. You can't see it too clearly, but he's riding a motorcycle, wearing just a bandanna. With a helmet sitting right behind him. On nobody. Oh, and the bandanna was an American flag. Not only do I find it a little disrespectful to make our flag into a do-rag, but it doesn't send a very positive message about this American that he didn't realize the helmet was supposed to go on his head. No, I've never ridden a bike, and I'm sure it might feel pretty cool to have the wind blowing in your face, helmet-free, but even so, it's pretty fucking stupid.

Hey, go check out AAG's fancy-pants new blog. She says she's wearing her "big girl panties" now, which is disappointing for many of her male fans who I'm sure were counting on no panties. But she's the shit, an absolute must-read, and deserves props for taking on the arduous task of migrating a blog while maintaining her demanding masturbation and orgy schedule. Good for you AAG!

One last thing today--I AM FUCKING HUNGRY!!!! Dammit, dropping this weight is a nice thing, but I am sick and tired of feeling hungry when I get into bed. I would knock down a small child to get to a bucket of chicken right now, that's how hungry I am!

Sick Sick Sick Musical Monday

2007-05-27T14:35:00.000-05:00

I only shot a 101 today--the beer went to my head and made my back nine a bit sloppy. But still, playing golf twice in one weekend is about the best a guy like me could hope for. Maybe blowjobs every morning for a week would top that, but this is definitely a close second.

This week I felt like I need to counter the pussy rock I've been posting lately. I'm afraid Phain thinks I'm musically weak, and I can't have that. So here's something a little grungier and dirtier, "Sick Sick Sick" by Queens of the Stone Age. These guys have grown on me a lot, and this song is catchy as all hell. Plus the video's really freaky. Anytime the lead singer of a band could clearly kick your ass, you have to stop and listen.

Me and My Big Mouth

2007-05-26T18:40:00.000-05:00

Today was an interesting day. A few weeks ago, Mrs. J got tired of listening to me bitch about not having anyone to play golf with, so she went on Craigslist and found someone looking to get a group of beginner-level golfers together to play on a semi-regular basis. This morning I finally managed to hook up with a couple of them and play a round, a guy and a girl (woman?) about my age, both very nice, both very beginner. Now those of you who only know me as the outgoing and gregarious J might be surprised to know that in real life, especially up till last year, I'm a rather reserved, even shy fellow. I've been known to experience great anxiety in social situations, and have not historically made friends easily or adapted to new situations. But my evolution over the last two years seems to really be paying off. Last night while anticipating today's round, my only worries were about whether these people would be either total dickheads or total Republicans, not whether or not I'd be nervous or uncomfortable. And I didn't even worry for a second about my golfing, even though I had yet to break 105 this year.

Turns out I did even better than I'd hoped. First off, I crushed my drive on the first tee, dead straight down the fairway and 300 yards, which of course made my partners feel like I had been lying in replying to a "beginners" group. I assured them that I can shank the ball like anyone else, and we proceeded to have an extremely enjoyable day on the course. The guy was nice enough, a bit more Joe Beercan/Red Sox Bleacher Seats than I am, but we got along well and he was a real sport in spite of how badly he was playing. The girl was even nicer, and we rode together and managed to pass the time with pleasant conversation somewhere above the level of typical small talk. Not too far in my past, such a day would have filled me with anxiety, and the conversation would have died on the vine. Even more surprising to me was that I was the one who kept things going, kept asking questions and opening topics for us. Believe me, that's new ground for me. I was a regular Chatty Cathy. The guy left after nine holes (because he apparently didn't know how long 18 would take and had made plans for something else), leaving me and my new friend alone for the back nine. Again, a situation which would have left me freaking out in the past, but now seemed like a very natural thing. And DON'T make anything inappropriate out of that--it was a purely friendly game of golf. We bonded over discussions of our dogs and contractors and owning a house and common places we'd travelled. Normally I would find spending five hours with a stranger to be painful, but I genuinely enjoyed it.

The best part? I shot a freakin' 96! Couldn't believe it. Second-best score ever. And now I know I have some new friends to play golf with when my co-workers decide they'd rather spend time with their families or go to work. I don't even mind the sunburn. Oh, and I'm playing again Monday morning with my buddy from work. Now THAT'S a good holiday weekend!

HNT Marked

2007-05-23T19:47:00.000-05:00

Time to reveal the newest ink. I've gone ahead and marked myself for good--property of Mrs. J.

The design is (obviously) a claddagh, just like my wedding band. The initial in the center is, of course, Mrs. J's.

The band is a Celtic tribal pattern that my artist (my ink guy?) found online and drew up for me--this whole design came out of a simple phone call. As you can see, the band wraps all the way around my bicep, with just an inch or so gap on the backside. Tell you what, that part HURT! He told me it wouldn't be that bad because it's not close to the bone. LIAR!!! It hurt like a mother. I almost passed out again. I turned green and sweaty, but eventually it was over.

I absolutely love this one, and it's just made me more and more addicted. In the days leading up to it, I was getting sort of scared, remembering how uncomfortable it really is. And as I was sitting there, I started to think, okay, no more, this is crazy, why would I volunteer to do this to myself?! But once it was done, and especially now that it's healed and I can wear muscle shirts to the gym and check myself out in the mirror (yes, I do, I confess), I want more! I want another armband on the other arm, maybe some Hawaiian flowers (we got married there), and definitely all the rest of my dogs on my shoulders. I think I might even have some put on those bald patches on my ankles--I'm thinking maybe the Stanford tree on one and a pint of Guinness on the other. Just need to save up some more money and courage.

I know, I need a tan too. Maybe I'll play golf shirtless this weekend and bronze up a bit. Now go look at some other Half-Nekkid People.