David, 47 and Kristie, 46, had a bondage fantasy and through Craig’s List they found each other and decided to turn the fantasy into reality. They chose an isolated area in Clackamas County, Oregon to get their freak on. No one had to know. But they didn’t count on a homeless woman choosing the same spot to pitch her tent for the night.
The tent dweller is a good Samaritan and sees this poor woman bound up, in the process of being violated and she promptly called the police to report a rape. When the police arrived, the couple took off on foot. Extra personnel were called out to secure the area and they stopped train traffic for good measure. Eventually the dogs were brought in and the couple was caught.
Besides the obvious humiliation factor, they fled the scene because David is a married man and he didn’t want his wife to find out. Oops. Now they are up on charges of public indecency, disorderly conduct and criminal trespass. Too bad he didn’t shell out the extra bucks to rent a nice isolated house somewhere along a rugged coastline, where the waves crash against the cliffs and no one can hear the cries of tormented pleasure. Planning is everything.
Some years back, while living in an apartment, I planted a small balcony garden. I grew herbs and a few vegetables and just for show, I grew a giant sunflower in a terracotta pot. It was awesome. Its face followed the sun all day and at night it slowly turned it’s head towards the light from the living room.
I saved some seeds from that sunflower and planted them this spring, some seven years after harvesting them, not knowing if they would sprout, after all this time. One did and stands proudly at over seven feet tall.
Sunflowers are magical and this one is extra so. My Dad was still alive back then and he stood on the balcony and admired the original plant. This Sunflower is a time capsule for me. I’m sentimental that way.
Sunflower Slideshow.
Oh, this woman is so annoying! If I hadn’t noticed a traffic spike in my web stats today and checked out the source, I’d have missed the latest on this piece of work.
Seems that Mrs. Walsh-Smith is now Miss Walsh. The divorce is final and she has been evicted from her luxury apartment, the one she wanted so badly to hang on to that she sold her soul on YouTube in an effort to try and get some sympathy. She got none from the judge who said that Miss Walsh’s YouTube efforts were a calculated and callous campaign to embarrass and humiliate her husband.”
The poor would-be-tent-dweller will have to adjust her lifestyle now. She’ll only be getting three quarters of a million dollars a year with which to try and maintain a living. She thinks the judges decision is “disgusting”. Tough break bitch.
More Tricia here.
Somewhere around 4:30 a.m. sounds crept into my sleep and then awoke me with a start when I realized the noise was not originating from within my dreams. I got up to check on the source of the activity going on in the thirty two year old, forty foot grapevine that grows over the garden shed and down to the end of the driveway.
The rustling continued uninterrupted as I opened the door and stepped out onto the back porch, so I turned on the outer light and from the top of the shed, amidst the grapes and leaves one of the masked bandits popped his head and paws out of the vine to take a look at who was disturbing their twilight grape raid. A critter too adorable to admonish for the rude hour of my sleep disturbance, or the fact that he and his masked accomplice were stealing my precious grapes. The harvest from my grapevine was an event last year and I plan to make it so again this year. Those grapes were shared with so many and I feel torn about what to do about the raccoons.
Last year I worked out a compromise with the birds. They can have the grapes that grow from the grapevine in the back garden, but they have to leave the main vine alone and so far they have honored our agreement. I’m wondering if such an arrangement can be reached with the masked twosome. They can have the grapes that grow on top of the shed, but they need to leave the hanging bunches alone. And it would be better if they arrived around midnight, rather than disturbing my best REM sleep. They seemed like a couple of reasonable raccoons and promptly left the grapevine at my request, so we’ll just have to see how it goes.
The smoke from a thousand wild fires has settled into a large portion of Northern California and has now become a weather system. It’s been the weather for a few days now and the forecast for tomorrow is…. smoky. The air quality has gone beyond the health warnings for the elderly and those with respiratory problems. Things are more along the lines of “We’re all screwed, stay in your house, close your windows, close your doors and turn on your air conditioners”.
There’s a big red ball up in the sky that’s the closest thing we’ve seen to the sun for the last three days. The lower the red ball sinks in the sky, the more it disappears into the dense lower layer of smoke and darkness is coming a little earlier while we are supposed to be at the peak of daylight hours. It’s kind of eerie, but mostly, it’s kind of uncomfortable. Like a slow suffocation.
Satellite picture here.
I’ve been cycling a lot lately, over hill and dale, along the coast, through the redwoods and city streets. Miles and miles of cycling. I do it all from the air conditioned comfort of the sports club I joined a month ago. I have neither the cojones nor the desire to go out and bicycle the streets for real, having a distrust of strangers in cars. I really like this homogenized version of the sport. The Expresso bikes have become my favorite workout. Watching the scenery change on the flat screen attached to the bike is distracting from the fact that I’m exercising, plus it has a login feature and connects with the Internet, allowing you to check on your progress from your home computer. Calories burned, miles cycled and time spent on the bike are all logged.
I could get addicted to this. Here’s hoping!
Today I received my annual physical. Even though it’s business as usual with the cyclical events of my body, the physician was required to discuss certain changes that could strike at any time, any minute in fact, since I have recently celebrated my fifty second birthday. At the end of my visit, I was given a manila envelope with the words “Midlife” written on the front in large letters and a goodie bag of condoms. Seems only yesterday that I was leaving the doctor’s office with a lollipop.
I’ve just opened the ominous envelope and it contains some literature and one pamphlet on menopause that reads something like this:
“Warning: Your body is about to self destruct. Mother Nature no longer requires your reproductive services and so you will begin to experience aching joints, extreme sweating, frequent urination, headaches, hot flashes, insomnia, mood changes, night sweats, decrease in ability to concentrate or recall, vaginal dryness and changes in sexual desire”.
A change in sexual desire? So what are they saying here? That if one finds themselves unable to recall where they left the personal lubricant and while rummaging around frantically, sweating profusely between mad dashes to the bathroom to pee, while their head throbs and their joints ache and getting more and more pissed off in the process, they just may lose that loving feeling?
Jesus, Mary and Joseph! I’m tossing the pamphlet in the garbage and going to the gym.
I did it, I finally did it. I joined the local sports club. Some years back I had a membership at the club, as part of a physical therapy program after having to undergo surgery on my knee and Achilles tendon. It was the best part of the whole ordeal. Not only did it benefit me physically, but it did a lot to lift my spirits.
So I’m back in and I’m enjoying the hell out of the place. It’s a beautiful facility with swimming pools, tennis courts and all the newest in exercise equipment. I’ve only been working out for a week, but the benefits to my mind, body and spirit are significant.
My brain and butt have been numb from long hours spent working at the computer, but now that I have made this change, I’m hoping to be restored to normal brain function and regular posting at 10086 Sunset Boulevard.
Watching Desperate Housewives is not something I make a habit of doing, having tired of the series a couple of seasons ago, but last night I was ready to be a veg-head and watch all two hours of the season finale. There was a twist at the end of the show and the twist was that Desperate Housewives was over. No more seasons, going out while still popular. Brilliant.
All the loose ends were tied up nicely in the season finale. Lynette and Tom Scavo got rid of Kayla, the bad seed child from Tom’s drunken one night stand, Susan and Mike started a new family, as Susan’s teenage daughter goes off to college. Finally Katherine Mayfair (Dana Delaney) comes clean about her past and the mystery of Dylan was solved. Katherine’s villain ex husband, Wayne Davis, played by Gary Cole, gets his comeuppance after doing away with Ellie (Justine Bateman).
Then fast forward five years to Lynette and Tom having to deal with the police over their children, who have become juvenile delinquents, Bree as a Martha Stewart business woman with her gay son assisting her and Susan coming home to a man who was not Mike. A little glimpse of their futures.
It was a perfect ending, or so I thought. I read this morning that Marc Cherry has signed on to keep pumping out the suds for this soap until 2011, the seventh season. It is, after all, a money generating business and it’s not about being brilliant, it’s about milking those cash cows, sponsorships and syndication and there’s already so much garbage on television.
Thankfully, it’s summertime and a good time to step away from the Boob Tube and into the air conditioned movie theater, for what is shaping up to be a great year for action films.
Updated 5/9/08
Didn’t Sigourney Weaver look like this just before her eyes started glowing red in the movie Ghost Busters?
Tricia, of recent YouTube fame, is moving on with her life and getting rid of the old. Her wedding dress, a classic little silk number by designer Yumi Katsura, is up for auction on Ebay. The starting bid is $10,000 and the proceeds from this auction are to go to the Wounded Warrior Project.
You can also bid on that little chiffon beaded number, by designer Pamella Roland, the one that Tricia wore on the red carpet at the Tony Awards, as shown on her official website.
To read more about Tricia’s decision to put the dress on eBay, click here.
Update 5/3/08: The starting bid for the wedding dress auction has been lowered to $5,000.
Update 5/6/08: The starting bid has now been lowered to $9.95
Update 5/9/08: The auction ended today - bidding only reached $355.00 which was under the reserve price.
More Tricia here.
