Alarming News: I like Morgan Freeberg. A lot.
American Digest: And I like this from "The Blog That Nobody Reads", because it is -- mostly -- about me. What can I say? I'm on an ego trip today. It won't last.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: We were following a trackback and thinking "hmmm... this is a bloody excellent post!", and then we realized that it was just part III of, well, three...Damn. I wish I'd written those.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: ...I just remembered that I found a new blog a short while ago, House of Eratosthenes, that I really like. I like his common sense approach and his curiosity when it comes to why people believe what they believe rather than just what they believe.
Brutally Honest: Morgan Freeberg is brilliant.
Dr. Melissa Clouthier: Morgan Freeberg at House of Eratosthenes (pftthats a mouthful) honors big boned women in skimpy clothing. The picture there is priceless--keep scrolling down.
Exile in Portales: Via Gerard: Morgan Freeberg, a guy with a lot to say. And he speaks The Truth...and it's fascinating stuff. Worth a read, or three. Or six.
Just Muttering: Two nice pieces at House of Eratosthenes, one about a perhaps unintended effect of the Enron mess, and one on the Gore-y environ-movie.
Mein Blogovault: Make "the Blog that No One Reads" one of your daily reads.
The Virginian: I know this post will offend some people, but the author makes some good points.
Poetic Justice: Cletus! Ah gots a laiv one fer yew...
So the wife and I go see the new Die Hard movie. And I’m thinking, among other things…okay, my hair is in a transitional phase of sorts. And the phase to which it is transitioning is aptly represented by Mr. Willis here, who is slightly my senior, an action hero star, and bald as a billiard ball. That’s right, I’ve seen the wedding pics and I know what they mean. Getting thin up there. But no roadkill rugs for me, it’s natural all the way. If the widows-peak is encroaching upward, and there’s a big hole up on top, and I’m starting to look all monk-like and nerdy up there, then someday I’m going to go John McClane on it and just whack it all.
Meanwhile…the morning after…I’m doing the hotel room fight with my hair, after it’s been all washed out by hotel room shower soap. Like herding cats.
Morgan: Go there!
Hair: Fuck you.
Morgan: I said, go there. Be parallel, at least, for Chrissakes.
Hair. Dude, seriously. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. We’re still sleeping.
Morgan: AT LEAST DON’T BE A HAIR DILDO ALL POINTING IN THE SAME DIRECTION, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.
Hair: We do what we want. We know best. Deal with it.
Morgan: GO HERE! I mean it! Don’t make me bring out the spit!
Hair: …der…no hablo anglais…
Morgan. FINE…what the fuck ever.
So we go to Hooters. I have a cool wife, she likes going to Hooters as all decent wives do.
Now get a load of this, fellas…this Hooters girl is not our server. Our server is a blondie type, this is a redhead. I was just looking over at her thinking, wow this is really Phil‘s type, the natural redhead who likes having long hair.
Well, she — swear to God, not making this up — asks to be introduced to us, and makes a point of mentioning how cool she thinks my hair is. That’s why her face is all blocked out like that. To protect her identity. Because I think the poor girl is nuts.
But…my forty-seventh birthday is coming up this summer. So, I’m figuring this is just about the last time it’ll ever happen. Yes, in years past, I’ve gotten my share of compliments…occasionally, from hot, hot good-looking girls, like this. I thought they were nuts too.
But, maybe not. If not, then I guess my hair does know what’s best, after all. I mean, let’s be real: The hair DID win the argument this morning. And it seems to have had a good outcome, not that anything will develop from it. I may not be dead, but I am married. And I’m sure Nic– I mean, the anonymous good-looking Hooters girl here, with terrible taste in mens’ hair, has some kind of a stud-muffin young boyfriend back at home, seven feet tall with rock hard abs and whatever.
But I’m at the age where I’ll take a compliment where I can get it.
Oh, and as a side note, the Hooters restaurant on Challenge Way, by the Arden Fair Mall, is being well-managed and fun again. Wife and I had a complete blast. You’re dropping about a hundred bucks every time you walk in & out again, so it’s important to take note of which ones are fun. With the wings and beer being exactly the same, a fun atmosphere is all the difference between “Shit yeah, why the hell did we even hesitate, we should be coming here all the time”…and…”Uh, why did we spend all that time and money when we could’ve gotten a burger at Carls?”
Hooters on Challenge is fun again. Spread the word. And, don’t ask me about the details, for apparently I’m a poor judge of this, but my hair is cool-looking and all. In about a year I might not have any, but whatever. Yipee Kay-yay…
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Oh, yes indeedy. That’ll do. 🙂
- philmon | 02/17/2013 @ 18:09I can’t even remember when Bruce Willis had hair, or hair so’s you’d notice. No one misses it. I think guys worry a lot more about hair than their women do. We mostly think bald is just fine, or at least it never comes up in conversation among women. We have common complaints, but they’ve never the ones you guys think they are.
But if you’ve great hair, enjoy that for now, too!
- Texan99 | 02/17/2013 @ 21:17“…makes a point of mentioning how cool she thinks my hair is.”
They work for tips, right?
“You’re dropping about a hundred bucks…”
For two!?!? Holly crap, what’s a burger $25.00? And a beer $10.00?
Spray on hair, it’s what all the cool kids do –
http://sprayonhair.net/
- tim | 02/18/2013 @ 10:22They work for tips, right?
She was not our server.
- mkfreeberg | 02/18/2013 @ 12:56I’m just screwing with ya’, Morgan.
It’s a well known fact the women folk, for whatever reason, find us men more attractive, not when we get all cleaned up and put on our best duds, nope. It’s when we least expect their attention, when we haven’t shaved, wearing an old tee shirt and ripped jeans…hair is all a mess…weird.
Plus, when we’re with another women, preferably a wife – they look for the ring. It’s the ole “She finds him attractive therefore he must have some stuff going for him that I want” thing.
And they just like to piss each other off (insert sound of cats fighting).
- tim | 02/18/2013 @ 14:44If that’s your boyfriend
- Texan99 | 02/18/2013 @ 14:52If that’s your boyfriend
If that’s your boyfriend
He wasn’t last night
It’s a good weekend. Watched the new Die Hard movie with my favorite girl, stayed in the nice hotel overnight with her, went to Hooters, sexy waitress thought my hair was cool.
Took the wife out target shooting today and my grouping was tighter than hers. Then we went out for breakfast…then home, and I took a nap. 🙂
- mkfreeberg | 02/18/2013 @ 14:55Hope Phil don’t mind my sharing a look. The lass is quite lovely.
The “loves the raffish look” idea is interesting. I used to be a lot more raffish looking; as a married gent, I am required to be more regularly presentable. I begin to form a theory – my wife subconsciously realizes that what caught her fancy could catch others’, and moves to defuse as much of that as possible.
This will require more observation. You’ll understand if I’m not going to dare to test this theory first-hand. 🙂
- nightfly | 02/20/2013 @ 13:10