Hot Smart Chicks

Tysgirl recently asked me, after that link to Heidi Klum brainlessly playing with her boobs, (really, for all I know Heidi could be a part-time quantum physicist when not modeling underwear, but I kind of doubt it), if I thought any smart women were hot, which seemed irrelevant to me since the link connected you to a picture of Heidi Klum playing with her boobs and that should be good enough, but nonetheless it led me to some soul-searching, which in turn led to the realization that I don't have a soul, and second led me to try to figure out who I think is the best combination of brains and beauty out there.

Ladies & Gentleman, (and the rest of you), I give you

Jennifer Connelly

Putting aside the combination of a Yale/Stanford education, (while I'm not sure she got a degree from either institution, she did get in, and I have to respect that, as the only way yours truly would be getting in to either of those places would involve a ski mask and bolt cutters), she's an Oscar winning actress who seems to have little problem shedding her clothing. She starred in one of my favorite movies ever, "Requiem For A Dream", which I think everyone should see as long as they know up front that they're ain't gonna be no happy ending for pretty much anyone in the film, and don't get to attached to Jared Leto's character. Also, Jennifer does a lesbian sex scene with a double-ended dildo that isn't the least bit hot. And I'm not even kidding about that. And if a movie and an actress can make me say that, well, it's either the worst porn movie ever and one of the actresses is actually a donkey, (don't judge me), or it's just a great, great film. Perhaps more importantly, Connelly's horse-riding scene from the movie "Career Opportunities"
might be one of the hottest scenes involving a fully clothed actress you're ever likely to see. Also that movie launched the stellar movie career of someone named Frank Whalley.

So anyway, that's my nominee for hottest smart chick. Feel free to submit your own.

What I Did For Thanksgiving

Well, I ate a lot and slept in and played with the kids and visited relatives, just like the rest of you. Of much more importance is this video-clip a friend of mine sent me where Heidi Klum, apparently after a crystal meth binge, plays with her boobs. It's not as hot as it sounds, (sorry Syd), but let's face it, Heidi Klum juggling her bra and talking tits beats Limpy yammering about Thanksgiving seven days a week and twice on Sundays.

Baby What's Your Sign?

My brother and I are at a bar tonight. A girl we sort of know is prattling on about how she will only date Taurus' for some reason. As a Taurus, I was afraid to ask why, or frnakly, to say much of anything. Then she switches to praising Scorpios, of which she apparently is a member, for having insatiable sex drives. I try to drown myself in my glass of Jameson, but couldn't fit my ears in the glass, so I hear the following:

Drunk Chick: "So what signs do you look for?"

Brother: "Pretty much if she has a vagina I'm OK with it."

Things That Make You Go 'Hmmmm'

Reading the paper today I came across an article about how the army is, (again), lowering standards for recruits in order to meet their quotas. Putting aside the political ramifcations of this, what I found most interesting is that the military is no longer DQ'ing people for having prior records for things like fighting or carrying weapons to school. And I thought, "Wait, before this the military was disqualifying the aggresive guys who were familiar with weapons?"

Time For Something New

There, that should do it.

I have been busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest lately, hence the lack of content around here. Notice I didn't say the lack of "good" content, since that would imply there ever is any of that. Nope, I've basically been driving around the state to various court appointments, making sure that no one recoveres any money just because my client stored that dynamite in the shed next to the nursery school.

Note that I've never had a case like that, but I do live near a day care center, and if they wake me up one more time, some attorney I know is going to have a case EXACTLY like that. Either that or it's time for me to start raising wolverines.

I did find time to take the kids to New York City last Friday. We went to the Museum of the City of New York, which is sort of weird. First. it's located on the Upper East Side. The way, way, upper east side, like 20 blocks past the fashionable Upper East Side. The subway is fun up there. My kids can read, and now they know some cool new phrases about what Maria likes to do, and more importantly, what Maria's number is. OK, so that was really only important to me.

We went to see the exhibit the museum has on the golden age of baseball in NYC, 1947-57, when the Yankees, Dodgers and Giants were all really good and playing in the World Series pretty much every year, and most importantly, all in the same city. Interesting exhibit, even if it can easily be covered in 2 hours. The only problem is that the museum is incredibly overheated and I nearly fell asleep on several ocassions. They also had a less interesting exhibit on older interior design styles from New York's past. Mostly rich Dutch folk and what their living rooms looked like. My father and I spent a few minutes trying to find a typical Irish house from the 5 Points section would have looked like, but apparently they couldn't find enough filth in time to complete that exhibit. Honestly, it's a wonder my people didn't get right back on the boat and say "fuck it."

Then we went to dinner at a BBQ joint on W 44th called Virgil's. It's not the best BBQ I've ever had, but it is the best I've ever had in Manhattan. And the kids love it, and that's pretty much the most important thing at that point in the evening. Our waiter was very impressed when my son ordered the grilled cheese and the hot dog and then finished both. I was able to feed two adults and two kids, (one of whom was eating 2 meals), for $86, not counting tip. In Manhattan. And it was good and I was stuffed. In short, I love Virgil's. Next time my father and I will probably leave the kids at home and go try the haggis at the Scottish place up the street. I've never had haggis, which as I understand it is basically the internal organs of sheep made into some kind of sausage. Or basically, it's a hot dog. I hear the key is that the more scotch you put away before the meal, the better the haggis. Thank god for the subway and the Metro-North.

I think we'll probably head back to the city before too long. I'd like to see the Broadway show for "Young Frankenstein", and the Museum of Natural History has an exhibit on water that looks like fun for the kids. And then there's that haggis....

Common Sense Rears Its Ugly Head

Although eligible for tens of millions of dollars in federal grants, (i.e. our money), programs that focus exclusively on abstinence have not been shown to have any effect on teen sexual behavior. This is according to a study released by the non-partisan , and oh-so-fun-lovingly-named National Campaign To Prevent Teen and Unplanned Pregnancy. Programs that were more comprehensive in nature, (like telling kids its OK to tell your doctor "gimme the Pill, I'm gonna fuck"), do have a positive effect on reducing pregnancy.

OK, I don't really condone teenagers talking like that to their physicians, (or fucking for that matter, unless they're female, at least 18, really hot, and referring to me), but I always crakced up at that line from Stephen King's "It" and felt like ripping it off. But let's face it, abstinence only programs run contrary to human nature and will never be effective, so there's no point in spending more of my money on it. In fact, the only abstinence-only program I'm aware of that was even remotely succesful was the one waged against me by the girls in high school. That one was 100% effective. So I guess the moral of the story is that abstinence only programs are really effective when they involve male-populations made-up entirely of short guys with bad haircuts, little or no fashion sense, ("Velour? I'll take 2!!!"), and a facination with spending all their free time in basements playing Dungeons & Dragons. They're rock-solid then. Trust me.

The Goose

has disappeared. Which means I have a cage and a poultry hook in my car for no discernible reason. The hook is about three feet long, has a wooden grip and a metal pole that goes way out before bending around in a hook that would fit around a chikcen's leg, allowing a person to snag the bird without all that pesky running around. The cage could fit a smallish dog. I'm trying really hard not to get pulled over for speeding these days. I walked around the pond the last couple of days. I did find one dead goose, but it was a Canada goose. I also discovered that our pond runs into at least one other pond and there's a decent size stream feeding into both. So the goose could be pretty much anywhere at this point, incuding in the stomach of a fox or coyote. In my imagination, however, the goose was adopted by this person



and is now living a life of ease on the same farm by buddy Mike thinks his former dog was sent to after it bit someone.

I have to run out and pay some bills on the way to court, but if you're really good, later on I'll tell you all about this Sunday's Wiffle-Ball game against four members of a local high school football team. If you're not really good, I'll tell the story twice.

You Know You've Hit The Marital Lottery When...

I'm sitting around watching TV last night when the wife gets home from a company dinner she'd had to attend. Kids are in bed, dog safely ensconced in my lap, which is her favorite place in the whole wide world, to the point that my wife is jealous of her.

Wife goes upstairs and changes into sweats, wanders into the kitchen and calls the dog in for a treat. Which she will do just to get her off the couch so that my wfie can take her spot. They're so cute together. But after some unuusal rustling sounds I hear the dog commanded "OK, go lay down", and back she comes, eagerly plunking herself back on my lap. My wife heads down to the basement, where the laundry is. After a second or two, I notice that there's a note attached to the dogs collar.

Never mind what the note said, all you need to know is my ass got down to the basement without touching any stairs.

The dog stayed on the couch.

In a somewhat related note, because I was watching it at the time, is there a more annoying group of people than the crew on HBO's "Tell Me You Love Me"? A friend of mine swears I'm just missing the point, so if I stumble on it I'll try to watch it, but christ almighty, they really should change the name to "Just Tell Me To Fuck Off Because I'm A Whiny Little Bitch". It would be more accurate. For pretty much every single character.