House Pr0n & Hoofing It

From the "stuff I didn't know came with the house" department are these lilies (at least, I think they're lilies).  The stuff we've actually planted on purpose is over here. . . the obelisk you see is the actual WWII gravestone a coworker gave me that is currently undeployed.

Yesterday's JDRF Walk was rather fun, despite the presence of one singlularly ill-mannered ten year old ("Hey, nice toga!"  "It's a skirt."  "Okay.  Nice dress."  "Skirt."  Many, many very happy dogs, and one puppy that tripped K's cute-o-meter.  So, despite getting up darn early, forgetting to have coffee, and walking three miles, how'd we look?  Like this and this by the time it was done.

At which point, we hit GMBAS for a few minutes, then came home and took a surprise nap.

[fiction] Asparagus

Dominque and I had enjoyed rather too much of the exquisit apertif offering, both because the sommelier was making eyes at her, and to rid ourselves of the memory and taste of Paolo's latest extemporaneous culinary endeavor - something involving smelt roe, asparagus swords (which he swore vigorously were distinct from asparagus spears), and parsnip wedges garnished with endive.  It was nearly enough to make me wish Justine  were still in the kitchen at Le Bon Mot, but when rehab calls, there's not much one can do and remain clear of Page Six.

We settled further into the Giorgio loveseat to take in a bit of pomo farce, something called "The Organ-Grinder's (My) Bitch," which Ramon and Lucille had both raved about over curried yams the previous Tuesday.  I anticipated a lot of subtly broad stereotypes about Depression-era Brooklyn, and I suspect Dominique was hoping for something a bit more risque.  We'd made the customary wager on things, of course.

She won, in spades.  An unrelenting pastiche of homoeroricism, set to a vintage music box, entirely bereft of dialogue.  It was carried off well, of course, but I was troubled by the zeal with which Dominque hummed the signature melody as we rode in the back of the Lincoln, and the way she kept looking at me, as if she were envisioning me wearing the prehensile tail.

What's Everyone Doing May 26-28, 2006?

Wanna come to Tampa for C:12, or shouldn't I bother putting a bid submission in?

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