Ms. Cheevious’ favorite flowers… CHECK
Camera… CHECK
Copious amounts of alcohol… Tulips at night, tulips in the day time, tulips, tulips, tulips.
Just add alcohol.
Boobed Lines – I mean Blurred Lines – Summer Tune
I have to admit. I fell in love with Robin Thicke’s song “Blurred Lines” (now heretofore called “Boobed Lines”) before it became a chart topper. I can’t say that it was the mastery in musicianship that drew me in, no. It happened when a former client who is engaged to a guy in Thicke’s camp shared it on her timeline on Facebook, saying “Look at what my fiancé has been up to in NYC!” You gotta hand it to the girl for being a strong woman, and so far removed from being insecure that she shared it publicly. I love that! You go girl.
I decided I liked the video. “Like” for the song immediately followed, and now it’s one of those songs that gets my groove on.
I watched the video in amazement as these gorgeous, hot models paraded on and off the stage topless, bouncing their boobies proudly. Who doesn’t like boobies? And given that we are fast approaching Ovarian & Breast Cancer Awareness Months, well guess what? I’m going to share the unrated version with you right here and now. Damn straight. Be PROUD if you have beautiful boobs ladies, and be proud of other women who are BODACIOUS and have the MOXY to strut their stuff, fearing not any repercussions.
HERE. HERE IS WHERE I WARN YOU THAT THIS VIDEO IS THE SKIN-FLICK, UNRATED (X-RATED) VERSION OF THE ORIGINAL.
At work, don’t like boobs, or happen to have kiddos around?
DON’T WATCH. DO NOT HIT PLAY.
Without further adieu, here is one of my new fav’s for the summer:
Hollywood offers hope to the little people
Yes, my friends, there is hope for success in Hollywood, even for the little people.
M.C. has heard hundreds, maybe thousands of stories like this one by an unnamed actress. It’s a story of hope to the millions of would-be actor/actresses who make the pilgrimage to Hollywood each year in search of their lucky big break. Yes, they still come in droves. I hope that never changes.
I’m in need of a decompression chamber
M.C. and I returned late last night from a road trip out to New Mexico for my high school reunion. After driving thirteen-hours twice in less than four days (I was co-pilot, but it counts), I am in serious need of a decompression chamber. One with vodka. And chocolates. In fact, if I were designing a decompression chamber for myself, it would be a place stocked with those two things, and it would staff a full time Thai masseuse. Now we’re talking.
When driving across the great Southwestern corner of our nation, one surveys nifty little items such as Tee Pee-shaped gift shops (no really… the building was a Tee Pee. You can see one here) and various stone-colored fetishes at every other gas station between Albuquerque and Flagstaff. If you don’t know what a fetish is, well you’re in good company. My hoodlum brain happily went straight to the gutter when M.C. took me into a little shop in Old Town Albuquerque to hunt for “fetishes.” Imagine my disappointment when I walked out with this:
I’m kidding of course. I wasn’t disappointed. I was pleasantly surprised that these little guys represent various virtuous traits, and bestow gifts of strength to those posessing them. I chose the turtle, because he is the symbol of Mother Earth and gives the gift of longevity. Lord knows I need that.
The class reunion was held at the Sandia Resort & Casino in Albuquerque. We learned pretty damn quick just how “Indian Gaming” works. It works without alcohol, at least on the casino floor.
I know. My jaw was the only hint of alcohol that casino floor had ever seen, and that was the residual alcohol left-over in my mouth from the six cocktails I’d had during the dinner and slide show.
Yes, I’m exaggerating. It was four.
It wasn’t the first reunion the class had held, but it was the first I’d been able to make (I was busy being a single mommy, traveling the globe working on shows with MTV, and other networks, and stuff. People couldn’t blame me.). It also wasn’t the school I actually graduated from. But I was a JV Cheerleader at this school prior to running kicking and screaming as far away from Catholic School as I could get, to the public school I eventually graduated from. Whenever anyone asks why I would attend this reunion rather than my own, especially since I fought so hard to go to another school, I simply tell them the truth. I knew more people. Yes, it was partially because I was a cheerleader, but also because my years at public high school are a bit of a blur, due to the copious amounts of pot – I mean – alcohol – I mean – learning I did.
You see? I really do need a decompression chamber, for many reasons… not the least of which is to get out of finishing this post. I’ll be over here with my chocolate.
It’s a classic
Friends in Albuquerque, New Mexico own a vintage 1958 Ford Edsel. It’s a classic my friends. A TRUE classic!
But you’d think the Red Sox had just won the World Series, to see M.C. around this car. Our friends, relishing his enthusiasm, were delighted to take us on a cruise down Route 66. Nuggie was on top of the world, waving at drivers and pedestrians as they honked or nodded in approval. He wanted this for today’s Nugget, and I couldn’t agree more.
Road Trippin’ with Ms. Cheevious
Near the beginning of a 13 hour drive. Can you say “Best boyfriend EVER??”
He drove.