Now I don’t know what to think…

Last week I checked out American Gangster.  It was pretty good, and if you haven’t checked it out yet, you should give it a whirl.

Anywho, the day after I watched it a co-worker, Keila, and I were discussing it.

“You know,” I said, “American Gangster was pretty good, but now I’m confused.”

“Why’s that?” Keila asked.

“Well, in Boyz n the Hood, Laurence Fishburne said that drugs were brought over by the white man to keep the black man down.  Yet American Gangster shows that it was a black man that brought over the drugs.  Now I don’t know what to think.”

Keila studied me for a moment.

“Stewie,” she said, as if to a small child, “you have got to stop trying to learn about my people by watching movies.”

Laughter ensued.

Heather turned to me and said…

Kay Parker was the first porn actress I saw in action. The movie was My Private Teacher, and she was Miss Lillian Foxworth, private teacher extraordianaire. I was in love with the busty goddess immediately.

Urshi Digard, star of numerous ’70s sexploitation flicks, is another one I crushed on as a lad. How I pulled her out of my subconscious for my little fantasy shindig (I’m getting to that), I will never know or care.

Now, there’s a reason why I have introduced you to those two lovely ladies. They were guest stars in a dream I had a couple of weeks ago.

You ever have one of those dreams that is so good, that it just stays with you? Oh my, my, my. Boy, that one was a doozey.

I knew it was a dream immediately because it started it so good from the get go. It was me, the two aforementioned ladies, some candles and some massage oil. Could it get any better?

Impossibly, yes.

After spending the time of my life (or so I thought) with the two buxom beauties, I headed off to meet one of my friends at a store he owns. To get to his store, I have to drive (in real life), but as dreams go, it was just a short walk from my house. Oddly, though, I had to cut through a outdoor pavilion to get there. There isn’t really a pavilion of any sort near my buddie’s shop, but there was in my dream, so I rolled with it. The place was filling up with people, so I asked a guy what was going on. He simply told me that there was a great band playing tonight, and I should come. I said sure, and continued on my merry way.

Coming up to my friend’s store, I noticed a girl on roller skates, skating in circles in front of a nail salon that is the store right before you get to my pal’s. I knew immediately who it was before I even saw her face.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey yourself,” she replied.

“You’re Heather Graham,” I said.

“I am,” she replied.

“I like your work.”

“Thank you.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m waiting for my friends. We’re going to the show.” She nodded to the window of the nail salon, where her friends were apparently inside.

I looked in the window to see who Heather hung out with. And if my dream weren’t a 10 before, it certainly was now. Inside the salon getting all prettied up (not that they needed it) was Emma Caulfield, Alyssa Milano, Rose McGowan and Hollie Marie Combs.

Now Emma Cauflield I can see being there. She and Charisma Carpenter were the hottest women on “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”. But I can’t fathom for the life of me why the other three were there. Sure, they are hot as hell, but I have never seen one episode of “Charmed”, nor have I ever had any interest. Either way, who am I to question goodness.

“Holy shit, that’s Anya!” I said. (Anya is Caulfield’s character’s name on “Buffy”.)

Heather looked in the window. “Holy shit, you’re right!” And she giggled. I really like her. She has a great sense of humor.

“You think she would mind if I asked for a picture with her?”

“Nah. I’ll even take it. You have a camera on you?”

“Shit, no,” I said, sad.

“Good thing. It would have been creepy if you did. I know they have one next door, in the barbershop,” Heather said.

“Really?” Without waiting for her reply, I went into the barbershop and, sure enough, they had a camera. But, to my dismay, when I came outside and went over to the nail salon, I noticed it was empty.

“They went to lunch,” Heather said from behind me.


“But we can hang out, if you want,” she suggested.

“That sounds good,” I said. I mean, really, who would say no to that?

So Heather and I talked a bit, me sitting Indian style in the middle of the parking lot (that’s right, I said Indian style) as she skated around me. I don’t remember what we talked about, but I know it was fantastic conversation.

Soon enough, the four women emerged from the nail salon and headed over to us.

“Everyone, this is my new friend, Stewie. Stewie, this is everyone,” Heather said, knowing I knew their names already.

“Hi Stewie!” They all said at once. I probably blushed.

“You girls ready?” Heather asked, and they all gave the affirmative that they were.

Heather turned to me. “Hey, why don’t you go to the concert with us? I have an extra ticket.”

The other women piped in, saying I should really go because the show was going to be great, and they really wanted me to join them.

“Sure,” I said.

“Great! Well let’s go, then, the show is about to start,” Heather said.

We all started to head to the pavilion, excited about the prospects that lay ahead (at least I was excited about the prospects).

“By the way,” I said, “who’s playing?”

Heather turned to me and said…

Best. Dream. Ever.

That’s how she is…

A couple of months ago, Joy called and offered up a cruise to me. Long story short, she had won one, got a deal on the other, pops wanted to go, so I was all for it to split the bill with my dad.

Alas, the cruise overbooked, my sister gave the f you to me and my dad, and she is now somewhere between Florida and Mexico living it up.

I called my parents’ house last night to talk to my dad about football, and my mother informed me he was over Joy’s watching the kids. So I called over there.

“Hello?” He answered, a little flustered. My money is he was flustered not because of the kids, but he probably was fumbling with the phone.

“Let me get this straight,” I started. “Joy offers you a cruise, takes it away, then makes you watch her kids?”

“That’s how she is,” was the reply. And we both laughed.

He’s right. That’s how she is. And there’s no doubt she will laugh when she reads this.

(And please note, I don’t blame Joy for the cruise being overbooked. I do, however, find it amusing that my dad is watching his grandkids when he can be playing shuffleboard.)

Got tagged by Snooze…

1) Link to the person who tagged you
2) post the rules
3) list six seemingly unimportant habits or quirks about yourself
4) tag six other people and post the tag in the comments on their blogs

Got tagged by Snooze. I won’t link her as I’m never quite sure if she wants me too.

1. I am attracted to all women, but I find women of color very attractive. I’m not just talking about black women, but women of color in general. Except for redheads. Those rule above all (which is ironic, as they seem to have the whitest skin). This may surprise some (Tom). 😆

2. I count go down the stove knobs five times each when I’m leaving the house (off, off,off,off,off. off, off, off, off, off. off, off, off, off, off. You get it). I do the same as I jiggle the doorknob (locked, locked, locked, locked, locked).

3. No joke makes me laugh harder than a sexist one. I don’t apologize for that. Just because a joke may not necessarily be true doesn’t make it any less funny.

4. I have a cat. His name is Mr. Jingles. I did not name him, I did not pick him out, I was just stuck with him.

5. I am an extremely aggressive driver. Joy has constantly warned me she will hang up the phone if I don’t stop yelling at people who can’t hear me instead of talking to her.

6. And I hate talking on the phone. Hate it. There are very few people that can keep me on the phone for more than five minutes. Yet, when I was younger, I was on the phone so much my parents let me get my own phone line, provided I pay for it. I happily did.

I think everyone I know has been tagged. If you haven’t, I tag you.