November's Top 3 Bed Em' if you can get Em'!

So...I know, I know, the big question is what the FECK is wrong with me? Who cares. Nothing. Lazy, Apathy, my new found love interest in cooking healthy tasty food like the lemon caper tilipia I'm making tonight. Who knows. My libido however, is fully in tact, even though I have not been stretching the limits of what a mother/wife can say without being distasteful on this blog lately. I have still been being rather nasty at all times, despite my ability to appear like I'm nesting in my new SAHM role or other seemingly "normal" traipses through life.

I have to say, my list makes no sense. I know this, and that is ok.

1. Justin Timberlake. YEP. I caught a snippet of his gazelle, lift one leg scoot and undulate move from SNL and his concert and its nuts. The man can look sexy and naughty by moving his NECK. the least of phallic symbols, but check it....you will want to wreck in his adorable baby boy face. Um...then there is his "soft-goofy side" that shows up on Ellen and plays golf and is way more self aware than one should be after sleeping with Bspears trainwreck, Cameron Diaz and Jessica (perfect booty) Biel. Take a look. What man can wear a leotard and still be HOT? I rest my case.




I want to smell him and make fun of him for being so boyish and wearing white tennis shoes, and then have him throw me on a wall and dance in front of me, or mock himself and crack jokes...because this guy is everything and nothing predictable. Have I said too much?

2. James Bond (Daniel Craig) or just the idea of him:
I watched "Quantum of Solace" last night and felt my ovaries jump and release estrogen in toxic amounts at his calm while flying down a cliff side road in Italy in an Aston Martin, and his athleticism and skepticism and rippled tummyicism....he is danger, and dark and inconsolable. He leaps over anything, can kill with a pressure point, risks his life for a woman, than nonchalantly drops her off in the safe hands of a hotel conceirge...contradictions in a flesh pod of muscle and sex-man musk.

In life, that is a nightmare, in fantasy that is a dreamy bowl of smoking hot love making and a false sense of connection with a heartless machine of sexy goodness is just what I ordered.( Self loathing follows when he forgets your name post coital) so he can stay in fantasy world, gun slinging and throwing himself into the fire of sarcastic vengeance. If there were no consequences and my self-esteem was 100% in tact, I would fly onto this man like those bat monkeys with wings, envelope him and then disappear before he could get to clean up...leave him a note that says: "Not bad...had to run...L" Dirty, dirty, bad guy. What woman doesn't dream of breaking this kind of nut?! Humpy hot double O for me please.

3. Alec Baldwin: I have no apologies. This man makes me laugh and think and want to run and then stay, and the shuffle back two steps and then jump his fifty year old bones just to see if he can stay standing. Not only is he smart and seasoned with women, he is realistic and almost impossible. I picture him the kind of guy I would want to punch for calling out all my tricks, attention needs and inadequacies, but somehow peppering his slights with sex appeal and backwards compliments. You may picture grey hair and wrinkles and a spare tire...sure, but I still see vintage in him. The body is a curious thing, it changes, it ages, it sags...and such is life. Mine will too. Until then, I would love to stretch out, arch my back and lay before this silly, fast-tongued (surely dirty minded) man of many words, jokes and political opinions.


Sigh....I'm not claiming to be normal, in fact quite the opposite. If nothing else, find comfort in how normal you seem in comparison to my over-sexed thoughts, rationalizing and daydreams.

Happy Monday. No day for the mundane.