Tag: Alabama Rob

Every Which Way But Loose

Happy Easter to all who celebrate, and a happy Sunday to those who do not. We do not celebrate Easter, but we do recognize the Easter Bunny and candy because who doesn’t? My favorite parts of “Christian holidays” are inevitably always the parts appropriated from pagan holidays. Funny how that works, isn’t it? It’s also raining, and I slept in later than I’d hoped to. Sparky eventually got impatient waiting for me to get up and scratched my face near my left eye, and while I easily and happily could have slept longer, I am glad I got up. I feel rested, which is very nice, and relaxed. I didn’t really do a whole lot yesterday; I ran my errands and got home in the early afternoon and basically chilled for the rest of the day while Paul was at his office and the gym. He got home in time to watch LSU Gymnastics to win the regional final. They didn’t have a great meet, but still almost broke 198.00–which is incredible. After that we started watching Something Very Bad Is Going to Happen, but the first episode was just weird and odd and un-involving, so we moved on to season three of The Night Agent, which is a very fun action packed high energy international intrigue thriller. Gabriel Basso, who plays the lead, is very sexy, too.

While Paul was out, I watched a couple more episodes of season 4 of The Traitors. I am really going to enjoy writing about the show, but I definitely have to outline the essay so I don’t forget to talk about something I find interesting. Yesterday’s watch reminded me of how The Traitors somehow pulls off something I wouldn’t have thought possible–redeeming people I have disliked in other media. I was resistant to watching this particular season (which was still airing when we started watching) because I hated both Lisa Rinna and Candiace Dillard from their time on Real Housewives; but I really enjoyed them of The Traitors. Same with Colton Underwood; I didn’t love how he came out after his time on The Bachelor and it seemed like the powers-that-be thought they could make him–a very pretty blue-eyed blond white man–into THE Gay Celebrity, especially given his problematic past. I actually wound up liking him on this show, and maybe I should go back to his reality series about coming out and “learning to be gay”; I’ve been wanting to watch through some gay-base reality shows I’ve watched and how terrible they inevitably are (Drag Race being the sole exception). I’m also, while rewatching, remembering how Alabama Rob charmed us all–and seeing the seeds of Rob and Maura’s bond (it literally goes back to episode one) being planted makes her loyalty to him at the end make more sense; she really wasn’t his “dicktim.” (That’s another interesting thing about rewatching; you pick up on things you didn’t notice the first time through.)

After getting the mail, I swung by the Fresh Market on my way home, which I usually don’t mind as far as grocery stores are concerned. It’s slightly more expensive, but it’s never crowded and the customers aren’t nearly as annoying as the ones at Whole Foods (I get highly annoyed every time I shop there, which I why I don’t). But it seemed like all the entitled rich old white people somehow got an alert that they needed to go to the Fresh Market and show their whole asses. I was quite relieved when I put my bags in the car and skedaddled away from that portal to hell. I never do a big shop when I go there–the slightly more expensive thing–but I love their meat counter (lots of fresh meat options there) and they also sell Jelly Belly jelly beans there by weight. I love me some Jelly Belly jelly beans, but I stopped eating them when I got sick last year and haven’t bought any since. I snacked a bit on them last night and yes, I still love them. I just cannot overdo it with them because the goal here is to lose weight.

I also mailed some books yesterday. I still have two more copies to send out, and one to drop off Uptown, but I also did very little around the house yesterday because I was being a bit on the lazy side and relaxing. I’m going to try to do some cleaning today–at least get everything picked up and put away–and I am also going to try to do some reading this morning. I also want to try to get a newsletter out today, and I know which one I am going to try to get taken care of; I want to talk about Christa Faust’s Derringer Award nominated short story “Hollywood Prometheus” from Crime Ink: Icons. (I did find a way into my essays series about masculinity yesterday, too, but I want to think about that introductory prologue essay and let it marinate in my brain for a few days.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines and clean up this mess of a kitchen and work space. I also have to balance my checkbook–always a joy–and do some other thankless tasks so I am not behind on anything anymore. Heavy heaving sigh. It’s also supposed to get cold later today, too. Woo-hoo!

Sexy fitness model and BGEast wrestler Rio Garza

Destiny

Thursday and my last day in the office this week, praise Jesus. It’s not been my best week, what with the insomnia and tiredness. It’s kind of ironic that after finally getting past the endless fatigue of the past few years, and finally getting excellent sleep for months…that the insomnia has come back. I think it’s over-caffeination, frankly–lots of coffee these last few days, which wasn’t smart; yesterday morning I really felt the effects. Not to mention the endless irritation that social media has become, with bots flooding feeds with racism, misogyny, homophobia, and the most disgusting ableism and infantilization of people with people with medical conditions that I despair of this world and start rooting for the meteor strike–failing that, any extinction event on this planet would probably be a boon to the rest of the universe. I think maybe my weariness at this insane dumpster fire we’re living through might be seeping into my soul.1 I won’t let the bastards win, though–and if they send me to a camp, well, I’ll be defiant until they kill me.

I’m not, and never will be, a good little German.

And I did sleep better last night. I feel better this morning, if my legs are a bit tired. I definitely hit a wall yesterday afternoon after lunch, and was so tired that I thought it was Thursday by the end of the day. I ran an errand on the way home and had groceries delivered, and I also did some chores and picked up a bit before collapsing into my easy chair with Sparky for the evening. We finished off Season 3 of The Traitors–so much traitor on traitor violence!–and did not see that ending coming at all. Maybe when the show has been around longer, and people are more familiar with it and how it works, the players will watch past seasons and catch the patterns and shifts in how people inevitably end up going along with other people when they can’t make up their own minds–or how easily people can be manipulated and steered, which is part of its appeal, I think, and when the players talk about learning lessons about themselves from playing, I can totally see that. We at home viewers can roll our eyes at players being deceived, or making insane leaps of logic, often outsmarting themselves in the process–but we also aren’t there, and we are only being shown bits and pieces of their days and their interactions–and it is possible to bond very quickly with people when you’re completely immersed in a group with no outside contact–like fraternity hell weeks, or boot camp–and it’s also a very good lesson in how perceptive and intuitive you are–as well as making you doubt yourself. The finale of season 4 airs tonight, and we shall see if Alabama Rob can pull it off with his sweet demeanor, blue eyes, and prettiness.

Never trust a pretty Southern boy from rural Alabama. Just sayin’.

The hockey mess continues, and the Olympic players keep digging themselves in deeper, and the NHL and the teams aren’t helping matters at all, either. Every social media post gets ratioed, and apparently they are hoping to ignore it till the season ends and hope it all goes away before next season. That’s how ignorant they are in their misogyny; they don’t understand women in the least. Women are, as a general rule, incredible in their ability to maintain a grudge (I admire that because I am similar). I sure as hell carry grudges to the grave with me. I’ve been to Colorado exactly twice in my life since they passed anti-gay legislation decades ago; it has since been repealed an Colorado is mostly blue now…but I still won’t spend my money there, and my visits were work-related. I just mentally crossed Colorado off my list of places to visit, and never thought about it again. Likewise, I am not too keen on ever doing anything to help Florida economically, either. When I visit my family over in Panama City Beach-which is rare–I buy gas before I cross the state line into Florida, and make sure I wait till I cross it again on the way home. Any little bit I can do to not help their economy, I am so there.

But it looks like the women’s team–and all the women medalists–are going to have a massive celebratory party in Las Vegas thrown by Flavor Flav, and companies are stepping up to participate or sponsor it. Hope those cold double cheeseburgers and Aquafina water bottles (warm, I’ll bet) and ketchup packets in that back-ass tacky conference room was so much better than anything the women will experience in Las Vegas–and the women are also getting a lot of endorsement deals. The men’s accomplishment is forever stained and tainted by allowing themselves to be used as political props for a pedophile who hates women. Job well done, assholes. The “honor” of a White House visit? There’s no honor in being used like that, and then lapping it up as you lick the very boots of the monster who is stealing your glory and using it to prop his unpopular ass up. This will haunt you until the days you die…because the Internet is forever and if you think the women players are going to forget how you pissed all over the “friends” you pretend to “support”?

But no worries guys–there’s always prostitutes and gold-diggers to fuck. And as for the NHL’s so-called “Girl Dad” campaign? It’s kind of abhorrent now that we know those dads are okay with the sex trafficking of children. That’s a very specific version of utter ick.

Ugh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day, and I will be here again tomorrow!

  1. Those of you thinking the next election will change things, may I direct you to the elections of 2008 and 2020? ↩︎