his week I have decided to crush on LL Kool J. Did you see him on The View this morning? If you don't find this guy smokin' hawt your meter's busted. For serious. He's got two kids heading for college and he can still bring the shit. What I love most about Kool is the bad-boy who is a gentleman vibe. It's not often you see the real deal: a guy who nobody is going to mess with on the corner; but he also holds the door open for your granny at Walgreen's. I find that rare combination-- an alpha male who is also a bone-deep, moral man-- intoxicating to the point of absurdity. They make my knees go wonky and my heart race. These are the true cavaliers in the oldest, most glorious tradition of true manliness.
And it's smokin, smokin crazy assed smokin hawt.
And so, Sir Kool J, I dub the Lord of Ass Whuppin Sweet Tasty Awesome.
You know, I don't really have a problem with differences of opinion. I like differences of opinion and deeply respect people who can disagree with civility. My closest friends fall into this category for that reason. I loved sitting around last night at the beach with good, close, old friends who will have a debate with me. But lately it seems like not only are people having a blast tearing apart Palin and Bush... they seem to be completely ignoring the feelings of their friends. I know it's getting to me. I'm actually completely fine with Democrats being in power. I'd rather my candidate won, but he didn't. But recently I have noticed a real one-way street on the jokes, snide remarks, and mean spiritedness.
Just remember that's me: the person who mailed you a check when you were crying about being broke; the person who gave you a gift when you said you couldn't make it without _fill in the blank_; the person who donated to whatever thing seemed important to you; the person who offered prayers; the person who supported you without asking how you voted or what you thought about my pet issues.
By the way... many, many studies have been done with regard to sex and politics. I think they keep re-doing them because every one has shown that republicans have better sex, and have it more often. And one of the reasons I am so fond of my progressive republican ideals is the flexibility they give me. I'm pro gay-marriage. I'm for civil liberties. I'm a human being, not a stereotype.
You know, when the Red Sox blow a game I can respond with "way to go, Seattle." I can cheer Derek Lowe at Fenway when his team is in town. Hey, he was family. Divorced or not, he got us to some big moments.
I sat with some old and dear friends last night and discussed the economy without anyone saying a single hateful word. Some of us were conservative; some of us were liberal. Nobody resonded with hostility. I think the reason for this is genuine intelligence and critical thinking ability.
But I must say... it made me re-think a few casual friendships. I think if people who have been eager and willing to run to me for help, handouts, and other boons are also willing to be crass, mean, and cheap when it comes to handing out generalized comments about conservatives... well, that was my error. Not theirs. Their character was there for me to see.
Missed a spot. But that's what cleaning products are for.
I share my heart with two men. One, of course, is Ahmed. He will forever own my heart. There are really, really good reasons for this, and one of them brings me to my other love. Michael. Ah, Michael. Though my darling Ahmed reigns over my soul and the deepest passions of my spirit, you will always command one small corner of my heart and a considerable segment of my lustful longings.
Your supple leather sings to me, Michael. I long to feel the smooth, firm straps against my arms... wrists... shoulders. I can't deny it. Your black straps can leave their rosy marks upon my flesh any time you want them to.
You know it, don't you?
Don't be smug, Michael. Don't. You'll ruin what we have, and what we have is beautiful.
And why will you never truly own me? It's not because you are a gay man who has no interest in a fat woman you've never met.
No, it's because that cagey, magnificent bastard I long ago gave my heart to knows me far too well. And while you can smile smugly in the knowledge that I crave your leather, Michael, do so knowing that only Ahmed can wield mastery over me. Only he is wise and powerful enough to realize an anniversary delayed by poor health and distance could only be salvaged by your Black Leather Ashbury Work Tote and it's seductive brass hardware.
And so, weak strumpet that I am, I will be subject to two men. But only one is my soul mate. And if I wear the imprint of your leather upon my skin, Michael, the straps were wielded by a master.
