Blue. Working it in green.

This cold has been lingering inside of me for over a week, and this morning it decided to blossom, or bud, depending on which word you choose to use. I love using the term “budding” every once in a while because it reminds me of my pediatric doctor who upon reaching my teens explained to me that my breasts would eventually bud. I couldn’t stop thinking of having flower bud nipples, I usually thought they looked like little rosebuds, and it’s a visual that every so often haunts my imagination.

It’s been a weekend of activity. J. celebrated his 31st birthday on Sunday, yes, I’m the “older woman” in the relationship, and we went to see Brokeback Mountain. Quick review: Liked it a lot, but don’t think there’s a rush to see it on the big screen, unless of course you want to see lots of pretty mountains on a large movie screen. I’m not totally down with the hype about it being a gay cowboy love story, because even though it’s obvious that the characters have deep, unexplainable feelings for each other, they also screw women. This makes them bisexual, not gay, but that’s too hard for a lot of people to digest. I’m not going to rant on right now, because I did so this morning, when I recorded my 12th Playgirl’s Sexpod.

Then yesterday it was time to party like a man - and no, I have no idea what that means but I hadn’t been to an east coast bar mitzvah since I think my sister was bat mitzvahed in 1992 (bar is for boys, bat is for girls). My how they’ve changed. If you’re parents are willing to spend some major bling bling, you’re affair will be full of bling bling. As this one was. And after a few vodka soda waters, my preferred drink of choice, I think I’m sick, as in I have a head cold, this afternoon. It was a bar(t) mitzvah (his theme was “The Simpsons,” because yes, bar mitzvah’s often have themes - mine was monopoly), and that’s why today I’m not planning on really leaving the house. But that’s neither here nor there - a phrase I just felt in the mood to throw out.

Moving right along…a friend sent me this article recently, and I must say that I think I’m in love with Larry Flynt. Looks can only get you so far, and no, he doesn’t have those, but as far as brains and balls go, he’s definitely packing.

From the Salt Lake Tribune:

WASHINGTON - The porn magazine arrives every month at your congressman’s office. Tucked in a conservative-looking manila envelope, the latest edition of Hustler goes to all 535 members of Congress. Free of charge. Not that most members want it. It usually gets thrown in the circular file marked