tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76354462011-04-21T20:12:03.400-05:00Look, I'm not doing this for you, but for my own dark and twisted reasons. Oh, and because everyone else is doing it.Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comBlogger3571100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-71239151230517470962007-01-24T21:41:00.000-05:002007-01-24T22:03:50.112-05:00

It is done. I'm starting over. This little vanity project has long outlived any bit of usefulness. In addition to tiring not only of the name but my own incessant whining about all sorts of shit nobody cares about, the monotony had begun to wear on my subconscious. In order to break out of a rut you have to change your behavior... your approach to things. It's not like in the telenovelas

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-74293685228821866382007-01-12T22:30:00.000-05:002007-01-12T22:51:33.249-05:00

My quest to grow emotionally and shrink physically continues. I've been on this damned diet for 10 days and, for the most part (two glasses of whisky over the course of 10 days), have stuck to it. However, it upsets my stomach. This means my ability to be social is rather limited. Nice, huh? Want a hot stock tip? Buy shares in the manufacturer of Gas-X.The break from blogging and dating has

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1167363257989148402006-12-28T22:09:00.000-05:002006-12-28T22:40:50.636-05:00

I'm not saying that I'm quitting, but I need a break. I like being an attention slut to a certain extent (like, to all ten of you), but I'm not happy with the content anymore. Similarly, I'm not real pleased with how the dating thing has gone for the past 18 months so I'm going to take a breather from that too. I'm going to miss the blogging way more than the dating.Oddly, after 36 years you'd

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1166495126500715842006-12-18T21:12:00.000-05:002006-12-18T21:25:26.516-05:00

Gawd do I love the comments that Velvet gets in response to her postings. The most recent is about how men are idiots. Well, at least that's what I got out of it. You can read it yourself, but here is my completely unasked for and untested advice (well, except for having dated guys since the age of 13, plus my good friend, the Alabama Slama, has been espousing this theory for, like, ever and

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1166375480281458092006-12-17T11:33:00.000-05:002006-12-17T12:11:20.306-05:00

Insomnia has plagued me these last few nights. Last night in my restless twisting and turning, I mulled the situation with this fantastically nice man I've been out with a few times. I'm very much on the fence about this guy, and think he may feel the same about me. In fact, I think that we may be on a friend trajectory. My concerns: he seems rather rigid (lacking that "go with the flow"

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1166156874716963322006-12-14T23:00:00.000-05:002006-12-14T23:27:54.736-05:00

My telenovela fascination has gotten completely out of hand. It's the last week of Rebelde, so of course I'm taping it. I'm taping a teeny-bopper Mexican telenovela. I like it so much that I think they should make a US version, a la Ugly Betty. Someone get Salma on the phone...On top of that, I've been completely dragged into the mess that is Heridas de Amor and Mundo de Fieras. The latter

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1165898642332081692006-12-11T23:30:00.000-05:002006-12-11T23:44:02.346-05:00

So, I LOVELOVELOVE this little movie. I caught the link from another dcblogger a while back and can't remember who it was to give them credit. Blame it on the xanax, yo.I'm Bringing Paxil BackThere are just too many fantastic things about this video. That, and I secretly loved Justin's original version (which happens to my sister's groove - she loved the video too and since she's in the health

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1165808466310130152006-12-10T22:20:00.000-05:002006-12-10T22:56:13.000-05:00

Supremes = ImportantWork = Mostly Pointless (getting paid is nice)Sometimes you have to watch a Monty Python movie to get your priorities straight.Originally, I took this job thinking I might be able to make a difference. The agency has, sadly, ended up a victim of the rot and dysfunction occuring at much higher levels. This has resulted in a sort of frenzied scramble to cover asses, and nobody

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1165732456368125122006-12-10T01:06:00.000-05:002006-12-10T01:34:16.390-05:00

This dating thing is just so utterly vexing. Last night I went out on the fourth date with the nicest chap (the guy I ran away from on our first date). He is very appreciative and respectful. And, he is either extremely cautious, asexual. or doesn't find me attractive. I can handle anything but but asexuality as the idea of not being into sex is sooooo depressing. The guy I went out with

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1164951381758693822006-12-01T00:04:00.000-05:002006-12-01T00:36:22.033-05:00

On Wednesday night, I had a second date with the guy who likes communing with nature (let's call him Nature Boy). After our first date I was 100% certain I'd never hear from him again: he ended the date relatively early on a Saturday night, he's all about nature and I'm all about avoiding it, he didn't try to hug or kiss me, and I never got that particular vibe... In any case, he proved me

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1164520036452696092006-11-26T00:19:00.000-05:002006-11-26T00:47:16.930-05:00

Chalk the lack of posting up to the holiday season and a heightened social schedule. Sorry. Promise to make up for it. Right about..... now:Instead of fighting the Thanksgiving holiday crowds, I visited the fam over Veterans Day weekend (I got to combine the federal holiday with my compressed work schedule so made an extra long weekend of it - its pretty much the only reason to work for the

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1163651129073971512006-11-15T22:54:00.000-05:002006-11-15T23:25:35.320-05:00

Mammograms. They're not fun. I had my first yesterday and I still ache. [I wonder if my brother-in-law will continue reading after that opener. Ha! How embarrassing is that, B??]Anyway. Mr. Nerver had to cancel tonight due to illness - that worked out well as I am also not feeling so hot. A Sunday afternoon date has been made with Mr. eHarmer - we're going to do something artsy and possibly

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1162960430547880382006-11-07T23:18:00.000-05:002006-11-07T23:33:50.560-05:00

I'm headed out for an extra long federal holiday weekend and prolly won't be given an opportunity to post while away. The Supremes are demanding little jerks, but I miss them.Have you seen this darling little cartoon yet? I'm dedicating it to the old guys that work with me and eat too much roughage. Its been over six months and I'm still startled by old man gas (brazen, unembarrassed blasts of

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1162872791603000622006-11-06T22:37:00.000-05:002006-11-06T23:33:45.226-05:00

After a nice evening with Senor eHarm - after we had walked to the metro - he turned to me suddenly and stated, "So, now I have a crucial question to ask." Based on past experience, I was a little startled. What on earth would he ask?? Maybe "What is your opinion of cross-dressing?" or "What was your name again?"Instead, he asked, "Would you like to go out again?"The evening went well and I was

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1162443839172037402006-11-02T00:00:00.000-05:002006-11-02T00:03:59.180-05:00

...Till I get to hang out with the world's cutest trick-or-treater!Behold Supreme Niece in all her Fairie Glory! (Or is it "glorie"? Ye olde englishe is soe confuse-ing.) 

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1162443153766752052006-11-01T23:35:00.000-05:002006-11-02T00:33:28.013-05:00

I have dates scheduled with an eHarmer and a Nerver this weekend. The eHarmer (Friday night) seems a little stiff, but nice. He's definitely a bit done with online dating having had little success with eHarm (shocker). I so sympathize with him. The Nerver (Saturday night) seems a tad more fun. We'll see. I'm altering my game a bit this time; I'm going to get them drunk and see if they want to

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1162262689277610582006-10-30T21:20:00.000-05:002006-10-30T23:31:57.963-05:00

Conversations with my sister are generously peppered with little gems such as, "Keep your diaper on or I'm turning off Elmo!" I can't believe that this is the same girl I used to have to buy Beam Travelers for when I visited her at college. When Supreme Nephew was just learning to crawl, I remember her screeching mid-conversation, "NOOOO!" (still a little deaf because of that phone call) because

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1162004957693580812006-10-27T21:36:00.000-05:002006-10-27T22:09:17.730-05:00

I met the perfect guy, but not before he met someone else first. Someone much younger. And incredibly nice. I'm in the early planning stages to disrupt this situation (ideas are welcome) - I want this crush to myself. Conventional Wisdom would generally point out that if he met someone else, then he really wasn't the perfect guy for me. I would like to punch Conventional Wisdom in the kisser

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1161498632075230762006-10-22T00:24:00.000-05:002006-10-22T01:33:10.250-05:00

What a perfect day. I slept in, did nothing for several hours (didn't need to clean as I now have a cleaning team), cleaned up, and then went over to the Bunny's and TMS's for dinner. A wonderful dinner! The Bunny made this chestnut bisque to start with, followed by sauteed mushrooms and beef tenderloins and pork chops. He was joined by his former room mate and amateur sous chef, and one of TMS's

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1161313724909696822006-10-19T21:47:00.000-05:002006-10-19T22:57:43.720-05:00

You know you're a lazy bastard when you hire a cleaning service to clean your studio apartment.I've meditated on hiring a cleaning lady for several months, and now that I make better money and have the blessing of my mommy ("Its not like you can't clean your own apartment, or you don't have the time to... You don't want to. That's why I hired a cleaning lady when you guys were kids."), I have

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1161143043917098642006-10-17T22:28:00.000-05:002006-10-17T22:56:22.870-05:00

I used to be a lot better at dating and people skills. Then, I got old and was single for far too long. Result? I'm a jerk sometimes.The most recent example included a very nice man who I went out with four times and only kissed goodnight. We most recently went out on Saturday night. During that date (which wasn't as fun as the previous three days but still fun enough to give it another go), I

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1161055943794199752006-10-16T22:12:00.000-05:002006-10-16T22:32:23.810-05:00

Being mostly unpopular - and glad of it - I don't get too much traffic. By proxy, I don't get too much spam in the comments section.Earlier today, some random blogger entered a comment on yesterday's post, saying he had found my blog via backtracking his links and then proceeded to plug some inane water balloon fight thing. Maybe it was paintball. I have no idea - my mind was simply blown that

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1160972056307344532006-10-15T23:03:00.000-05:002006-10-15T23:14:16.320-05:00

I've been on four dates with the same guy and haven't gotten any further than a chaste kiss goodnight. And I don't mind. This either means that I am not that into him or I've suddenly gone all subconsciously Rules on myself. He's a sweet man, not unattractive, tall, thinks I'm pretty funny, and we have lots in common... but he might be a little too sweet. I despise myself for not appreciating

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1160623790116363822006-10-11T22:00:00.000-05:002006-10-11T22:29:50.130-05:00

So, today Wonkette discussed the nefarious doings at the good ole Thompson Markward Hall, aka the Young Womens Christian Home, aka the Virgin Vault, aka the Beaver Lodge. It was my first home here in DC way back in 1995, and either that place is way more fun than it used to be or I was just blind.First of all, pages did not live at TMH. The age range was 18-34, so college-aged through spinster

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1160535757954183842006-10-10T21:34:00.000-05:002006-10-10T22:02:37.976-05:00

I've said it before and I will probably say it again: I love LOST. If you're not watching it and loving it then you're completely lacking in fun. The DCeiver posts these fantastic recaps, and I encourage you to keep up with the show via his witty witty words (and to read his other stuff, as the man is damn funny). If you lack the time to watch, then at least read the recaps. Faking being

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1160450212007803102006-10-09T21:57:00.000-05:002006-10-09T22:16:52.023-05:00

Nerve dishes up some accuracy this week. They continue to mock my pain by highlighting what a klutz I am. Super. Just super. "Libra (Sept. 22-Oct. 22) Where would we be today if Alexander Fleming hadn't left out his staphylococcus spores and discovered penicillin? This week, your clumsily inquisitive nature will lead to pleasant surprises. Perhaps you'll accidentally fall down some stairs

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1160019916563087702006-10-04T22:24:00.000-05:002006-10-04T22:45:16.573-05:00

See that filthy little face? That is what oreo cookies do to 18 month olds. I know you must think ill of my sister to allow her babe to snack so indulgently, but how can you not when it makes her so happy.Anyway, I want this look for me. Well, not the orange icing and oreo bits. I want my eyes to radiate the same sort of joy. I want my smile to be that perfect. I think my bliss will be

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1159938040021260282006-10-03T23:26:00.000-05:002006-10-04T00:00:40.040-05:00

Listen up. I will not be answering the phone on Wednesday night between 9 pm and 10 pm EDT. Nothing personal, just the season premiere of LOST. I will answer the phone between 8 pm and 9 pm, but may be distracted by this other show called Jericho. I will also be packing for my weekend of sin. I'm not saying that I'll be hitting up the entire seven deadly, but hope to cover sloth (sleeping in

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1159839690830525902006-10-02T20:22:00.000-05:002006-10-02T20:41:31.616-05:00

First of all, what kind of world are we living in where an attractive and seemingly capable bonafide prince can't find love? Do I want to live in that world? Seriously.Second of all, I'm not sure I want to live in a world where a prince says he can't find love because he is always afraid that women want him for his status as opposed to who he his, and so he decides to go on national television,

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1159757189456523002006-10-01T21:37:00.000-05:002006-10-01T21:46:29.473-05:00

Another nice thing about getting older is the fact that I get a card full of cash money on my birthday in the amount of my age. Actually, a couple years ago, I got the amount + 100 as Mom and Dad decided to treat me for my quarterly highlights. That was very nice. There was also the year at college when I got this fantastic amethyst ring from them... I still can't believe they mailed it to

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1159414445530396432006-09-27T22:16:00.000-05:002006-09-27T22:51:48.240-05:00

As I near the big Three Six, I find that I get over things much more quickly. Thank god! Getting old should come with a few perks.Without going into too much detail, I have been trying to help a friend get through a difficult situation with a former love interest. Said love interest flaked out on her in a colossal way, which she (logically) found hurtful. My advice was to move on and forget about

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1159038359212699792006-09-23T13:41:00.000-05:002006-09-23T14:05:59.326-05:00

I've reached the age where dates and potential beaux ask why I haven't been married before, as if it is a sign that I am somehow a poor bet. This question confounds me, and I generally find myself stammering/searching for a response. The question is usually posed by a divorced man; a man who has (irrationally, IMO) determined that by having been married, one is more likely to be married. Well,

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1158804520482959582006-09-20T20:54:00.000-05:002006-09-20T21:08:40.496-05:00

http://www.tard-blog.com/archives/entries/ndpn/12_tard_nearly_ruins_date.phtmlWhen we were little, my sister used to do these funny and terrible imitations of a fictional mentally disabled person working the drive-thru lane at a McDonalds, and I would laugh and laugh and laugh. For years we were sure that God's wrath would rain down in the form of her own little "special" brood. (God has

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1158717799671234982006-09-19T20:58:00.000-05:002006-09-19T21:03:19.683-05:00

Cable tv is entirely overrated. Did you know that the ancient Greeks enjoyed a cocktail made from honey mead, beer and retsina? Apparently it is quite good and now I am very keen to try it.Thank goodness for PBS (and the show about Helen of Troy); otherwise I'd be rendering myself retarded by watching Desire and Fashion House.

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1158632969035216432006-09-18T21:08:00.000-05:002006-09-18T21:29:29.066-05:00

Although September hasn't been as much a drudge as August, I still lack the inspiration to create posts worth reading. All I can do is update you on my humdrum existence.Thursday date guy (flower guy) flaked out with a valid, yet unverifiable, excuse. It worked out well since I was beat. Friday date guy was great. Fun, funny, and not unattractive. However, I had to explain a couple SAT words

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1158201702244756222006-09-13T21:23:00.000-05:002006-09-13T21:41:42.260-05:00

The Slama and her beau are taking a "break". Well, actually, the beau decided to "suggest" taking a "break" for a week and then meeting up to see where things stand. The Slama has retaliated by using his toothbrush to clean her catbox. It was a short-lived retaliation; she threw it out after using it to scrub off the bits of kitty poop/litter and then felt very guilty. I thought it would

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1158112023619537312006-09-12T20:33:00.000-05:002006-09-12T20:47:03.633-05:00

"Hey - just wanted to let you know I made it home in one piece.""Did you have a good time?""Meh. He did pay for dinner, which was nice!""What was he like?""Kind of dull. More portly than I expected."She makes a disapproving noise."Yeah, I know. I like big guys, but this guy was bigger than I like." So, in addition to having gained weight since posting his last online dating photo, he had also

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1157938458011943132006-09-10T20:17:00.000-05:002006-09-10T20:34:18.026-05:00

It was one of those perfect evenings. My (then) boyfriend and I drove all the way out to Manassas to meet one of my oldest college friends, her husband, and her aunt's family for dinner. E's aunt wasn't all that much older than E, and had three adorable kids. We had a delightful dinner all together, the daughter made me little yarn bracelets and the youngest boy - newly potty-trained - vowed

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1157679345024851062006-09-07T20:05:00.000-05:002006-09-07T20:35:45.073-05:00

I think I have a first date set for this weekend. However, it turns out that someone I know happens to know the guy, and they expressed very little excitement about him. Also, it seems that he has gained significant weight since he last posted a photo online. I'm all about a man with meat on his bones, but I don't like those who aren't upfront; who dissemble. Obviously, the lack of a recent

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1157417791422945592006-09-04T19:42:00.000-05:002006-09-04T19:56:31.436-05:00

There are now two couples out there who credit me for their marriages. I hear that pairing up a third will get me into heaven. That's real nice and all, but I'd rather have a great boyfriend. You know, one that actually cares about my orgasm. I keep asking when the matchmaking karma is going to return the favor. The Bunny opined (at his wedding reception on Saturday) that the return karma

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1157078775770090382006-08-31T21:26:00.000-05:002006-08-31T21:46:15.776-05:00

While I miss the fam, I do not miss sleeping in my nephew's trundle bed. I also do not miss being woken up in the middle of the night just so he can tell me that he has to use the bathroom. On the other hand, I do enjoy the time we spend together right before we fall asleep. We watch Animal Planet and Spongebob Squarepants and gossip about the mean kids in his class. He tells me that the

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1156788527593776422006-08-28T12:53:00.000-05:002006-08-28T13:08:47.613-05:00

My dad had the finest catfish dinner of his life on Saturday, while I had the most disturbing grouper sandwich of my life. The family was down at the redneck-tastic Lake of the Ozarks for a long weekend - which was nice. Except, you can't take a 17 month old and a six year old, neither of whom eat anything, out to a restaurant. So, you have to eat in shifts.I accompanied my dad to a very hot

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1156298307362337962006-08-22T20:44:00.000-05:002006-08-22T20:58:27.370-05:00

I'm resorting to posting cute photos because I really don't have anything to say. This month has been a real soul-sucker. It doesn't help that work had to be an out and out barn-burner today. I may be taking the Blackberry with me, but I won't be turning that bitch on except to play brickbreaker at the airport.So, I'm taking the next 8 days off to play with my family, get my hair done, eat

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1156121843677221142006-08-20T19:40:00.000-05:002006-08-20T19:57:23.686-05:00

A photo of the monsters at rest. My sister sounds exhausted. The Supremes were very demanding this weekend. She can hardly wait to get me home and sic them on me. They have Supreme Niece saying my name to me on the phone. She is also now saying "Oswald" (current fave cartoon) and "caca" (her father's doing, though I'm not opposed). The Neph has been much too busy with the neighbor kids to

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1156056215203242132006-08-20T01:27:00.000-05:002006-08-20T01:43:35.213-05:00

1. For the first time ever, a man brought me flowers on the first date. Specifically, he brought flowers and herbs cut from his own garden. The cinnamon basil is fanstastic. He was an attentive dining partner, asked interesting and thoughtful questions, and seemed to find me alluring and charming (which, of course, I am). 2. He also asked me to let him know that I got home safely. I can't

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1155513411442545112006-08-13T18:37:00.000-05:002006-08-13T18:56:51.450-05:00

The Brits departed on Saturday morning - considering the recent excitement I'm sure their journey home was not enjoyable. It was wonderful to see them one last time... I was sad to see them go. We covered an interesting topic before they left - that of unsexy names. As I approach my third year of online dating, I find that I'm (undeservedly) pickier than ever. For example, when confronted

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1155416560865579282006-08-12T15:45:00.000-05:002006-08-12T16:02:40.903-05:00

Circumlocutor is now sending random souls to visit my diary and heckle me into writing amusing posts. This will not do. I must be allowed the (albeit infrequent) introspective/moving post. Now, for a little lesson on "whiskies" from Wikipedia:"Whisky (or whiskey) comes from the Gaelic uisge/uisce beatha meaning "water of life", possibly modelled on the Latin phrase aqua vitae, of which it is

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1155263645804212702006-08-10T21:22:00.000-05:002006-08-10T21:34:05.820-05:00

I have two bosses. We call one "Fun Boss" because she is - she lives the hell out of her life and tells wonderful stories - I'm thinking about asking her to become my guru. The other boss has been a tougher nut to crack, but I think I have succeeded. He is one of those very decent types of men. A family man. He coaches his kids' teams. He has a quiet demeanor, but firm. This week he started

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1155077538037565722006-08-08T17:28:00.000-05:002006-08-08T17:52:18.416-05:00

Jeebus. So the statcounter is blowing my mind. Here I was, all uncomfortable just knowing that my brother-in-law has been reading this regularly, and my readership jumps from about 30 to 280 (as of 6:25 tonight) per day. So, B, as long as you're not sharing this fun with your family, we're good and I will not go into further detail about your borderline obsessive/compulsive methods to stay

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1155012062788797012006-08-07T23:31:00.000-05:002006-08-07T23:41:02.833-05:00

Holy assfucking, Batman! Wonkette (the first blog I ever read - even before Ana Marie Cox outed the Washingtonienne) linked to me today (fifth story down). Imagine my surprise when I checked my stats to see that 421 people had hit my blog today (I've had 50-70 on a good day). It was both terrifying and exciting. I was both nauseous and exultant. My wee lil babe of a blog... Either this

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1154908977988775072006-08-06T18:46:00.000-05:002006-08-06T19:02:58.080-05:00

Are you aware of how easy it is to break into a house? Or, specifically, my apartment? Well, without the security doors it would be a cakewalk.Around 11 am, while I was accomplishing an astonishing number of domestic tasks for a Sunday morning, I managed to lock myself out of my apartment's backdoor. I've done it once before, but the landlord was home. However, they decided to really

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1154754045866142932006-08-04T23:55:00.000-05:002006-08-05T00:00:45.873-05:00

I get to see this kid in about 18 days. Time cannot pass quickly enough.My brother-in-law is still reading the blog (ostensibly to ensure that I am posting amply about los sobrinos). I warned him about this...At present time, he's the only guy I know who uses those Biore strips. He has my sister get the box with assorted strips so he can plaster his whole face. You have been warned, B. The

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1154750808127252922006-08-04T22:53:00.000-05:002006-08-04T23:06:48.220-05:00

Along with the heat, my angst has subsided a bit. I finished Three Junes, which was good, and slept in. Also good. Instead of feeling outright bummed I've transitioned to simply pensive.Nunzio introduced me to the Jayhawks a couple years ago - and to their song Blue... Is this considered a part of the "emo" genre? Nevermind. I love this song anyway. Blue (Olson / Louris)Where have all my

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1154643811461852172006-08-03T17:10:00.000-05:002006-08-03T17:23:31.563-05:00

Perhaps its the weather, but I need a change. I need a vacation. I feel generally uncomfortable, not as funny, in a rut, somewhat anxious, not as pretty, and bored with myself. How many more days till October? How much longer till cool nights where I can wear my favorite cashmere sweaters? I am starving for crisp days and bright clear skies and autumn leaves.

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1154546925758238332006-08-02T14:11:00.000-05:002006-08-02T14:28:45.976-05:00

There are pros and cons to working in a male-dominated industry. I hate it when I'm spoken down to and the fact that women are not in operational or more leadership roles. Also, I hate the unwanted sexual harrassment. Conversely, harrassment is okay when it comes from a bunch of funny grizzled fire fighters who are buying you drinks and chatting you up. So, as you can guess, my time spent way

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1154284962642620882006-07-30T13:27:00.000-05:002006-07-30T13:42:42.740-05:00

[Sigh]Why can't my work trips be held in more interesting places? I'll be spending the next three days and nights being held hostage in rural northern MD. I've checked weather.com, and the high for Tuesday should be around 99. I'm not doing so well with the heat right now, either.My attitude is poor today due to tiredness and biological reasons. The diet was not complied with, but wasn't

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1154051015712454822006-07-27T20:23:00.000-05:002006-07-27T20:45:49.820-05:00

There are some people who you can never satisfy, who live to merely make your life difficult. And there are some who forget that a dry sense of humor does not convey well across email.I present for your consideration a snippet of today's email transactions with the Dog Chauffeur:me - "You know how you feel about not drinking? Grouchy, angry, depressed, profane... Well, thats how I feel about

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1153796715890808022006-07-24T21:40:00.000-05:002006-07-24T22:07:20.790-05:00

You know how I said a few posts ago that I was not all about the sex? Well, I may have been wrong. [Eh. Whatever. Not feeling guilty about it.]The Slama and I are both in our mid-30's. We both seem to be at an apex of sort re our sex lives (well, at least we've been ascending that mountain of bounty - or mountain of booty - for the past few years). This would explain the rather in-depth

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1153791013764833112006-07-24T20:23:00.000-05:002006-07-24T20:30:13.893-05:00

As all of you know, my (newly pirated) catchphrase is "lick my mork." Also, I only do filthy things in clean places. (To the best of my recollection...)Libra (Sept. 22-Oct. 22) You'll be particularly vocal this week, much to the chagrin of your neighbors. While screaming, "Tickle that nut!" at the top of your lungs in bed may make your partner come, it only aggravates those who can hear you

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1153709524675446772006-07-23T21:36:00.000-05:002006-07-23T21:52:04.776-05:00

The weekend has had its peaks and valleys. It started out nicely with a quick date with the Dog Chauffeur before he took off for some time at his shore place, dipped horribly on Saturday with an acute sinus headache, and then recovered with some beauty and shopping therapy on Sunday (note to the Slama - I finally found a dress for The Spitfire's wedding).For the next 10 days I will be dry. No

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1153458082742545982006-07-20T23:40:00.000-05:002006-07-21T00:01:22.750-05:00

Please forgive the radio silence, but I've been in Boise for work. Now, I know what you're going to say because I said those exact same things. Prepare to be shocked: Boise isn't bad. And, no, we apparently did not sell it to Canada a few years back. It was hot, but not humid and very comfortable. Unlike DC, where you can step out of your apartment freshly showered and made up only to be

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1153105416355798452006-07-16T21:26:00.000-05:002006-07-16T22:11:23.170-05:00

I might be quite wrong, but I believe that I have been accused of being insatiable. Obsessed with sex. Constantly frisky. And not in a good way.Again, I might have misinterpreted the comment. But I'm also of the opinion that there's a wee bit of truth behind most teasing.Granted - I do a fair bit of whining here about dating and sex. The blog somewhat fairly represents the non-myriad issues that

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1153018577545179612006-07-15T21:17:00.000-05:002006-07-15T22:07:57.746-05:00

As the Dog Chauffeur and I sat down to breakfast this morning, our adorable waiter exclaimed how pretty I was. I promptly declared my love for the waiter - apparently I can be had for cheap flattery. What am I saying?? I'm all over cheap flattery. "I'm so coming back next weekend," I said to DC, who replied in mock shock, "but I won't be here!"So, you see, the day started out extraordinarily

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1152667654601343102006-07-11T20:05:00.000-05:002006-07-11T21:14:51.380-05:00

DCist says something called a Full Buck Moon is the reason why folks are feeling a little grouchy/anxious, or, in my case, damn frisky. [I can't be the only one out there who wants to call it a "Bull Fuck Moon" either. Sigh.] After last night's dual sex-related postings I felt a bit guilty. I mean, there's more to me than my libido or my very lovely rack.For example, I have developed a serious

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1152581589085456052006-07-10T20:30:00.000-05:002006-07-10T20:36:15.500-05:00

New York Magazine has a guide to luxe sex toy shopping. Slama, baby, we are so going to Kiki de Montparnasse (and, hell, probably Myla while we're at it) the next time I come up. Damn K de M for not having a website!Update!!! KdeM DOES have a website. Thank you Google!

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1152572990355342762006-07-10T18:07:00.000-05:002006-07-10T18:09:50.376-05:00

Nerve has been serving up some hot horoscopes recently (for which I'm both grateful and hopeful):Libra (Sept. 22-Oct. 22) You'll be the Franklin Roosevelt of oral sex this week, an orator to inspire the masses. Though your line of questioning will be standard ("Is that what you like, bitch? You like that Swedish smorgasbord?"), your presence and intonation will take it to a whole new level. By

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1152495977434347322006-07-09T20:35:00.000-05:002006-07-09T20:46:17.540-05:00

When you go to bed with wet hair, engage in perfectly healthy adult activities, sleep fitfully, then engage in more perfectly healthy adult activities, and then wake up with your hair looking fantastically tousled and fluffy, you know you've gotten a very good haircut.I've said it before and I'll say it again: Kelly is a god with the scissors. Urban Style Lab, Dupont Circle. (But perhaps a

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1152147991381846002006-07-05T19:45:00.000-05:002006-07-05T20:06:31.476-05:00

Well, until today, I didn't either. It turns out that, in addition to its various health benefits, Guinness can make you a little gassy. Also, based on internet (not personal) research, one version might have a laxative effect. The Slama, who just got back from Ireland, informs me that the Irish joke about this phenomena. So, there I was at Elephant and Castle yesterday with the British

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1151893905260739882006-07-02T21:24:00.000-05:002006-07-02T21:31:45.266-05:00

I have to work tomorrow and I'm pretty bunjed about it. After an entire day of sleeping, eating, reading, more sleeping and watching something called Red Dwarf on dvd (thank god for the BBC), I'm just not emotionally or physically prepared to go to work. Also, I fear that sleeping all day will make it hard to sleep tonight. I hate how that works.There seems to be no end to the Supreme's

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1151779669419162672006-07-01T13:31:00.000-05:002006-07-01T13:47:49.493-05:00

So, a while back I had asked my brother-in-law to kindly stop reading my blog. You see, dearest readers, he is not good at keeping his own counsel. Otherwise he is a lovely and charming person. After sending him a message asking him to stop (and I was nice enough to send links to blogs I thought he might enjoy reading), he didn't visit my page for a few days. However, it appears he has

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1151640364097724322006-06-29T22:58:00.000-05:002006-06-29T23:06:04.106-05:00

The week has been long, having begun with a slight case of flooding apartment, a wee bit more work-related pressure, and the stress of learing about (possibly) dying relatives. My usual way of dealing with stress - to internalize it - is backfiring (yeah, shocker) and my tummy is. not. happy. My new friend, the British Bombshell, and I hit up my stylist for a haircut tonight and then we

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1151460344424346062006-06-27T20:43:00.000-05:002006-06-27T21:05:44.783-05:00

La Sister: Aunt C says that Aunt A probably won't make it through the surgery.Me: Say that again?!La Sister: Aunt C told mom that Aunt A is not in good enough shape to make it through the open heart surgery.Me: Mom didn't tell me that. No wonder she's been so pensive/moody.La Sister: She didn't tell you that either? [Don't even ask what the other thing was - too disturbing.]Me: I must be on

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1151303014779867702006-06-26T01:11:00.000-05:002006-06-26T01:23:34.816-05:00

At least part of my evening was lovely. I went to dinner with a dear friend, the Portuguese Man-O-War (how ya like your new sobriquet?), and we drank a fair amount of sangria and ate tapas at Churreria Madrid. Their sangria is very subtle and fantastically cheap! PMOW fed me, entertained me, and made me feel all warm and fuzzy. How great is that? Well, I'm beyond grateful for that lovely

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1151271053587274952006-06-25T15:58:00.000-05:002006-06-25T16:30:53.693-05:00

I haven't played the field in a loooooong time. There was that summer between the sophomore and junior years of high school where I dated six guys at once, and they all knew about it. I think I've relayed this story before, but at the end of that summer, one embittered and culled beau asked a friend of mine, "Who won the {WP} lottery?" Ah well. The game of love tends to bring out the poor

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1151189994111912842006-06-24T17:55:00.000-05:002006-06-24T17:59:54.113-05:00

It took a night of steady drinking and very little sleep (do they make Breathe Right strips for dogs? because I know a pup in DIRE need...), but I believe that the comments function has been fixed.

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1151090362434238772006-06-23T14:14:00.000-05:002006-06-23T14:19:22.436-05:00

La Chewy did a little work on the template (neither of us realized that the text and columns weren't lining up on everyone's screens till way after the fact) and it should be fixed. If it isn't, please let me know.Unless, of course, I haven't actually fixed the haloscan comments issue. in which case my inner Scarlett O'Hara is all, "tomorrow is another day!" and you all are all, "you really

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1150945415671751792006-06-21T21:30:00.000-05:002006-06-21T22:03:35.756-05:00

I'm not a fan of goatees. They're okay on men I'm not dating, but hell on the ones I am. The deal is that I have rather sensitive skin and most facial hair is rather abrasive. Have you ever spent an hour or so kissing someone only to have to go home and coat your face with neosporin and then have the tip of your nose peel the next day? No? You lucky bastards.Also, the bristles completely

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1150770042246291322006-06-19T21:02:00.000-05:002006-06-19T21:42:57.660-05:00

The Slama forwarded some modern dating etiquette tips to me today (from New York Magazine's Urban Etiquette Handbook), fully aware that I have been remiss in regard to some of these, now, commonly held tenets. I'm not telling which ones I've gotten wrong recently...What obligations does one have after a one-night stand?They correlate directly to the expectations raised the night before. If you

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1150667211524978742006-06-18T16:32:00.000-05:002006-06-18T16:48:50.726-05:00

I'm too damn old to be having non-stop fun on the weekends. The only thing that's going to save me is the fact that the bosses will be out of the office for most of this week. And that I have Friday off.Meeting Velvet was quite fun - it is so nice to be able to pair a face with the excellent prose. But my Saturday started far earlier than usual so that I could accompany TMS to get her wedding

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1150466170222493582006-06-16T08:41:00.000-05:002006-06-16T09:09:23.326-05:00

Despite the steady stream of complaints, online dating has definitely made my life more interesting. I met the Thirsty Bunny, he introduced me to blogging, I introduced him to TMS, they are getting married, and now I have a friend date with a another blogger. I've never been on a blind friend date, but it cannot be any less awkward than a regular blind date. Right?So what happens when you put two

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1150333247226902582006-06-14T19:40:00.000-05:002006-06-14T20:00:47.233-05:00

Oh, the 80's. I really don't miss them. At this point, my sister was all arms and legs, and my boobs were pretty much non-existent. We're still sporting bangs as well as some serious feathered hair. At least I had the, er, good sense (what?? you got something to say about it?) to wear a hat. You can blame Duran Duran for the hat. Actually, you can blame Duran Duran for lots of

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1150250272770813042006-06-13T20:45:00.000-05:002006-06-13T20:57:52.776-05:00

Christmas, 1977. The year of the Green Machine. Briefly, I was so much cooler than the other kids on the court who only had Big Wheels. (Check out the look on my face. I'm all, "the neighbor kids are owned.")But what is going on with our hair? (Also, what is my sister doing with her hand? Is she doing the I'm a Little Teapot dance? I think she is.) I've looked back at the photographic

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1150166298419945402006-06-12T21:29:00.000-05:002006-06-12T21:38:18.426-05:00

Yeah. Me too. [It was called the 80's. I take no responsibility for anything I was made to wear or hairstyles prior to 1980 as I had rather limited control at that point.]In this vein, have you ever sent someone a link to your blog only to realize that this would inhibit your ability to write about certain aspects of your life?No? Oh. Uh... Me neither. 

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1150076343930677572006-06-11T20:36:00.000-05:002006-06-11T20:39:03.940-05:00

Well, he's not so much a band, but he's got skillz. The Bunny will LOVE him. And he's only 14 so you know you can get him cheap! (Link obtained via DC Bachelor.)

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1150074471970570302006-06-11T19:46:00.000-05:002006-06-11T20:09:01.720-05:00

So, in re the last post, the answer was "ex parrot". I know that some of you knew the answer, but were simply afraid of appearing like the wonky-assed geeks you are. Own your love of the Pythons, bitches.Let's try this again. "What were the three, four, no, five weapons of the Spanish Inquisition?"The new job is going well. I'm busier than I have been in a long time and am surrounded by some

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1149736039194693842006-06-07T21:56:00.000-05:002006-06-07T22:10:23.936-05:00

The Freckler gave me a belated Christmas gift of a Monty Python trivia calendar. The geeks at work have now annointed me their queen. It gets me an unlimited supply of peanut m&m's so I'm cool with it.In any case, here is a favorite sketch. Now, guess the punchline.Mr Praline enters a pet shop, complaining that the parrot he has recently purchased at the location is, in fact, dead. The shopkeeper

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1149472611152341112006-06-04T20:21:00.000-05:002006-06-04T20:56:51.243-05:00

A weekend in review starting with most recent events:1. toy shopping at Babeland (NSFW - especially if you work for Big Brother - but a tasteful adult toy boutique);2. brunch at the famous Balthazar (I had the eggs Bella Donna and they were fantastic);3. saving of the Alabama Slama's soul via the sacrament of baptism (sarcasm implied as I don't think that one has to be "saved" in order to go to

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1149218571917668582006-06-01T22:14:00.000-05:002006-06-01T22:22:51.920-05:00

Because this one was really awful. It was extremely overexposed, so I had to do a good bit of tinkering.El Nephew Supremo graduated from Kindergarten this week, and we took this photo right after his class presentation. He starts first grade in July. It is just shocking. I have a relationship with him that I never had with any of my aunts or uncles because they all had families already.

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1149217613894790232006-06-01T21:58:00.000-05:002006-06-01T22:06:53.900-05:00

This photo was taken with a Polaroid 5080. It has 5.1 megapixels and a whole lot of other stuff that I barely understand. However, the flash usually ends up completely whiting out the photo's subject, and the color is iffy. It is possible that I really just need to study the instructions. It is also possible that the camera kind of sucks.But that baby is so beautiful, that she doesn't need

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1149128623178050652006-05-31T21:11:00.000-05:002006-05-31T21:23:43.380-05:00

... "You look sexy in that, mom!"El Sobrino Supremo has heard his daddy tell his mama that she looks sexy many a time. But to hear a six year old relay this to his mother in a Target store out in suburban St. Louis is still - how to put this - discombobulating. We're pretty sure he has no idea what "sexy" means. I miss them, but I also missed sleeping in my own bed. The Neph shares his room

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1148675410440986922006-05-26T15:18:00.000-05:002006-05-26T15:31:59.833-05:00

My weekend started last night, and it was quite the holiday weekend kickoff. (My mojo appears to have returned and is in good working order - be afraid... very afraid.)Tomorrow I take off for several days in the heartland. As previously expressed, I need to get my hands on my niece and remind her what an awesome aunt I am. Supreme Neph already knows that I rawk, and there are brand-new books from

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1148445083643310432006-05-23T22:52:00.000-05:002006-05-23T23:34:09.210-05:00

In the Autumn of 1997, I did a very hurtful thing to my sister out of misguided concern. I told her that the family did not feel that her fiance was good enough for her. She was an adult by this point, had finished college and embarked on a promising career in health care. Yet, despite knowing that she was a bright and healthy person I decided that she didn't know what she was doing; that she

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1148353934175154582006-05-22T22:07:00.000-05:002006-05-22T22:12:14.180-05:00

A hot air balloon landed in my family's yard (they walked it out to the court to get it loaded onto the truck) this evening, bringing all the neighbors and children within a half-mile radius.Perhaps I'm exaggerating, but I'm a bit piqued that stuff like this doesn't happen when I'm visiting.In the photo you can see, from the left, brother-in-law holding Supreme Niece (the pink blob), Supreme

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1148351694352551332006-05-22T21:18:00.000-05:002006-05-22T21:34:54.473-05:00

A good friend built my computer for me about two years ago. It was such a wonderful gesture - and he never asked me for anything in return. His wife was the first person I met when I moved to DC; she saw me lugging stuff inside Thompson Markward Hall (where I lived for a loooong five months) and insisted upon helping me get all my belongings inside and up to my room. She and her husband have

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1148235056277468842006-05-21T12:51:00.000-05:002006-05-21T14:58:35.253-05:00

Yesterday I got to spend some quality time with TMS, which was really nice. We went to Copenhaver to order her wedding invitations and then visitied the National Cathedral shop and spent some time at the St. Sophia Greek festival. It had been forever since I'd had any pasticcio, and it was very good. Also, tried a beer called Fix Hellas and enjoyed it a great deal.I picked up my new glasses on

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1148136553451272062006-05-20T09:39:00.000-05:002006-05-20T09:49:13.456-05:00

I started my day by finding this photo in my email inbox - at this point the day really could not get any better so I should just go back to bed.Except, I can't. I'm headed out soon to help TMS pick out wedding invitations. She is starting to mimic her fiance with her lack of posting.Eight more days till I get to see Supreme Niece and Nephew. Check out this very funny link. Now. 

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1148013348083310422006-05-18T23:19:00.000-05:002006-05-22T19:52:57.096-05:00

Airplane! script: knows itPricey shave products: you betNo nose hair: thank God.Yep - had a nice date for the first time in eons. He could talk circles around me. Was wearing a Givenchy suit. I definitely felt a bit mousey since my next hair appointment isn't till May 30. Speaking of, I'm thinking about going blonder again. It's that time of year.

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1147919439868007022006-05-17T21:24:00.000-05:002006-05-17T21:36:56.113-05:00

The good ole Washington Post caught my attention tonight with this headline, "Chimp-Human Hybrid Possible". Of course, my thoughts quickly turned to some of the men I've dated. (The article itself is rather interesting, as well as weird.)Then, I saw this piece in New York Magazine about former Senator and current New School President Bob Kerrey. Evidently, he's all about cockblocking (definitely

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1147666853512245452006-05-14T23:13:00.000-05:002006-05-14T23:20:53.516-05:00

The shopping countdown to the next long weekend with my family is rapidly ticking by. I have to cover mother's day, father's day, 2 birthdays, the usual make-my-sobrinos love me gifts, and need something for the brother in law so he won't feel left out.My heart yearns for the Supremes. The baby has been saying my name (or, making a close approximation to my nickname). El Sobrino Supremo has

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635446.post-1147663648653104152006-05-14T21:58:00.000-05:002006-05-14T22:27:28.743-05:00

Mothers are known for their self-sacrifice and boundless love. Well, some mothers are. Some are known for their preference of wire hangers over bare hands.Mom of Whisky Pants (MoWP) is quite a woman. She has never stopped being a mom and puts a lot of grandmothers to shame. She knows (usually) when to keep her yap shut and when to intervene - I think few people understand how to keep

Whisky-Freaking-Pantsnoreply@blogger.com