Fassy

So I've recently become obsessed with the actor Michael Fassbender.  I know, weird for a 40 year old woman, but I don't really give a shit to be honest.  The man is beautiful and I love his work.


I noticed him in X-Men - First Class, but didn't think much about him.  Then I saw him in the 2011 remake of Jane Eyre...all 20th century looking with crazy chops, unruly hair, and a white ruffly shirt. 

Don't ask me why his part in that movie was a pivotal turning point in my life, bringing on the mass internal hysteria that comes when you can't stop thinking about someone, but it was.  I found pictures of him and saved them to every electronic device I own.  I searched YouTube for video after video of him and I watched them over and over again like a raging lunatic.  I think my friends were getting a little worried about me, although they enjoyed it when I sent them beautiful pictures of him.

And then I found the messiah of all his films...Shame.  He plays a sex addict named Brandon and his unit is the star of the movie.  It is a spectacular film but it's very dark.  I was literally on the edge of my bed, I mean, my seat the entire movie.  Everyone should see it.  It was such an eye opener for me.  I had no idea sex addiction was so widespread.


Speaking of widespread...I had another rendezvous with the boy from the bathroom.  It was much nicer than being in the john, even though that is a fond but somewhat shaky memory. And although public debauchery is one of my favorite things in life, in some instances, there really is no place like home.


Happy weekend!

When Comfort Overtakes Vanity

Okay, so, a couple of Saturdays ago I was out and about with friends, having a fabulous time consuming way too much alcohol during daylight hours, when I had the pleasure of partaking in an extremely unexpected but most appreciated tryst with a hot boy in the bathroom.  This is not usually my style, but I'm a very open minded women...and this guy OOZED fun. Unfortunately, because this is not how my usual drunken Saturday's escalate, I was totally unprepared for what I was about to encounter.


I looked really cute with my white/khaki striped knee length cotton skirt and matching khaki v-neck tee on.  I love to color coordinate my entire outfit so I had matching roos (that's undaroos, pantaroos, panties, undies...) on too.  The cotton kind.  Hanes.  White.  Do you see where I'm going with this?  I also hadn't shaved my legs in a while as I am gleefully single...

The only thing that saved me in the slightest, and I mean the slightest sense, was that they were at least boy cut and not high waisted briefs, which I am not too embarrassed to admit to owning.  So when this cat touched my legs and got a glimpse of my roos, well, you can imagine, can't you.  And yes, he did call me out on it all too.  I was pissing myself laughing and so was he.  All I can say is thank God he was a) really drunk himself, b) a total hoot and had an awesome sense of humor, and c) was way more interested in my top half, since we were in the bathroom in a bar, ya know.  We were limited to what we could do...although it was quite an adventure.


Speaking of adventure...looks like I'll be taking a trip Walmart to buy sexy underwear. There's something very wrong with that sentence, don't you agree?


Happy Independence Day!