Ok, I promise that I won't put sex in the title of every future blog, but this is all part of my unofficial, totally non-scientific experiment to see if the blog hits continue to spike over sex. It appears that they do, but I only have three days of data and that's not enough of a set. I'll call it quits after today, unless of course, I actually write a blog topic about sex, battle of the sexes, sextuplets or cocktails called Sex on the Beach.
*raises hand in a pledge* No, I'm not turning into a blog ho or blog pimp or whatever they call it when you do cheap hit-gathering gimmicks like repeating sex a million times in your blog.
My thoughts really are random today, probably because I've had a hectic, jam-packed week at work and my brain is tired. It's one of those days where I wish I could grab a book and go bake on the beach for awhile, but it's only Friday and there's a day of work ahead.
It's Take Your Dog to work day, in So. Florida at least. I should have asked permission to bring Moe with me. He'd enjoy hanging out with my co-workers. Then again, my contractor is finishing the painting of my kitchen and Moe likes him a lot, so why deprive the guys of each other's company? I came home the other night and saw a pure white streak up Moe's head. He must have been helping John and ended up adorned with primer.
Happy to report that no more fish have died and the ones that had ick spots appear to be doing better. The smaller of the pajama cardinals looks like he's been bullied, but he's hanging in and eating well.
I'm about to start yet another new diet. My battles with weight loss can be viewed in one of two ways: Either beating my head against the wall in a war I'll never win or that hope once more springs eternal. I think I'll focus on the positive. I read an article today about a computer geek who now fatblogs. Really. They've coined that as a word -- fatblogging. People blog about their weight loss efforts, post their weights, etc. The man says the accountability helps him stick to his diet and he wants to avoid public humiliation. Folks, there's no way in hell that I'm putting what I weigh on this blog. Maybe I'll go post on his blog under an alias.
People are complaining about the heat. I don't get that. If you live in Antartica and the temperature spikes to 80, then you can complain. (After you get a boat because there's going to be one heck of a thaw if that happens.) If you live in Florida and it's June, you don't have any right to bitch about the heat. Hellooo, this is F-L-O-R-I-D-A!
Speaking of sex . . . No, really, I'm not going to.
Wait. Take that back, I am, based on an IM conversation I had last night with a friend. His wife is reading the new Janet Evanovich book. I plan to buy that this weekend. I love the whole Stephanie Plum series. We Plum fans like to debate over which of the main men in her books we think is sexier. They're both pretty hot, but I'm for Ranger. This led to me talking about my friend Lori Armstrong's books Blood Ties and Hallowed Ground. She has created a character named Tony Martinez who is scorching hot. He's also the leader of a bad ass biker gang, operates on the wrong side of the law and, as I believe I've said before, is scary enough that any sane woman should run in the opposite direction.
I said that of all the books I've ever read, if I'm going to admit to lusting for a fictional character (Let's not examine the psychological implications of that too closely, okay?), it would be Tony.
So, here's today's question: Of all the fictional characters you've ever read, is there one that you truly wish was real just for one night because you think he or she is that hot and you want to have your way with them?
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