Nook, nook, who's there?

Jim and I love to watch the local ABC news on Saturday mornings, because it's all the younger anchors and announcers, and the on-air atmosphere is just a little looser than it is during the week. Last weekend, the young sportscaster was goin' on about the Tigers' game the night before, and when he illustrated some spectacular play Nook Logan had made, he blurted out, "Ya gotta love Nookie!" Jim and I had one of those exchanged glances that says "Did you just fucking hear that?" And we both had. And we laughed like hyenas with feathers up our asses.

We decided that we were lucky to've seen it, because surely someone behind the scenes would take young Ryan aside and inform him that Nookie talk is strictly forbidden on daytime television, right? Surely he wouldn't be allowed to pronounce his love of Nookie on the air, nor would he be allowed to inquire of us whether we were fans of Nookie or not.

But no. An hour later, and Ryan Slocum (yes, Slo-cum, that's his name) was once again verbally ejaculating, "Ya gotta love Nookie!"

Well, well. They let him keep the Nookie. 'Cause who doesn't love Nookie?

*************************

I cannot, simply cannot, stop playin' White Zombie's cover of Boogie Man when I'm in my car. Really, really loudly, with my tongue out and my fingers makin' a devil sign. I think I need help, lots of help. And the neighbor kids are afraid.

*************************

Sorry to keep hittin' y'all with these quickies, but I am so bloody busy this week it's unreal. Snickers has been following me around the house, ever hopeful for a treat or a love-'em-up session. I swear I've never had such a cuddly animal in my life. If he were a man, he'd totally wanna snuggle after sex. And then put his cold nose up your wazoo.

*************************

I'd like to extend a hearty thanks to all who offered to invade my ass more gently and with more finesse than did my gynecologist. This means more to me, and my ass, than you will ever know. Call me!