Okay, help me out, y’all. Am I:
I’ve been having brief moments of self-doubt for a few days.
This isn’t just idle Leo vanity that begs me ask this question. The truth of the matter is that sexiness is 2% body, 2% face, 1% fashion, and 95% self-image and deportment.
I must not be deporting myself properly, and thus I have not been desporting myself properly either.
Oh. How bleedin’ clever.
Went out to 1984 Dance Night in the French Quarter last night to reclaim a bit of missing fabulousness. Flowy velvety shirt, hair pulled back but for two strands which I crimped to hell and back framing my lovely face — I had the 5% down. But I was skulky, I guess, and thus thwarted any stranger approaching me for inappropriate offers (which I love, of course). Dumb ole' Marquis.
From where I’m standing, I know I’m a leeetle bit fabulous, because I received one of the most beautifully crafted emails from this fellow that chuffed me to no end. But the needle still reads low.
If you love your Marquis, he has never needed to hear it more than now. Leave me a note in my guestbook, would you darling? Thanks. I’ll do the same for you when you’re feeling like mud.
While I’m undergoing personal maintenance to get back up to scratch, here are some Lists that I composed at a recent after-work meeting of about ten clever and jovial friends.
Firstly, in response to Lees™’s request to bring back juvenile and jejune junior-high put downs, I queried the crowd on what they would call people they didn’t like from that age. Here are their responses:
- Bitchface!
- Gaywad! (“As in,” it was explained, “a Wad of Gay.”)
- Dweeb!
- Bag of Suck!
- Peniswrinkle!
- Greg! (This took some explaining. I won’t go into it here.)
- ‘Tard!
- Cumbubble!
- Brainlick! (or “Not having a Lick of Brains.”)
- Assclown!
- Shithook! (Which someone received, more often than dished, and from his mother, no less.)
- Testicle Breath! (So specific!)
- Buttmunch!
- Rezzer! (from the Indian Reservation — ooo! ethnic slander is always good.)
- Swatchmonger!
- (and finally, said very sarcastically by Micha-Kitten): Nice face!
Aren’t lists fun? The eye is naturally drawn to a bullet. Let’s do another one.
When asked for masturbatory euphemisms, these were some of the responses (for they came too quickly [if you’ll pardon the pun] for me to write them all down.)
- Minding the store.
- Polishing the bald-headed sailor.
- Combing the hair.
- Handling the little man in the furry canoe.
- Takin’ care of business.
- Handling the merchandise.
- Changing the oil.
- Rotating the stock.
- Shaking hands with the Pope.
- Caulking the tiles.
- Exhausting the Muse. (That one’s mine.)
And for the ladies…
- Two-fingered tango.
- Clam diggin’.
- and of course: Parting the meat curtains.
Other lists that didn’t get very far because we were laughing too hard: Euphemisms for bowel movements:
- Droppin’ the Cosby kids off at the pool.
(Where can you go from there, I ask you.)
And likewise for anal sex, we only managed one that couldn’t be topped (gah! I pun again!):
- Carving your name on the tip of tomorrow’s turd.
Special treat. Here are some of my favourite (and considerably more fabulous than I) diaryists, and more specifically my favourite entries written by them — the ones that made me beholden unto them for all-times. Go read, and fall in love all over again! (And hey! more bullets for you! what luck!)
- LisaMcC—Raisin Bondage, 18 January, 2k.
- Uncle Bob—A Very Special McDonald’s Story, 1 March, 2k.
- Badjuju—Meow, 3 May, 2k.
- Queerscribe—Once Upon a Time, There Was Another Mother, 5 November, 2k.
- Pablo—It’s Been a Great Week, 31 October, 2k.
- Melusine—Bridging Non-Sequitur Musings with Latin, 28 June, 2k.
- And Melusine’s favourite of mine—Dela-Where?, 4 January, 2k.
Check out the Marquis’ Crush o’ the week!
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