I’m serious. I know the haters hate it but holy crap its so amazing.
Check out the scene above. So many things make it awesome. The random body percussion. Watching Alison (daughter of Brian)Williams’s face shift from shy pleasure about having a song sung about her to horror and eventually anger. Jessa’s quiet pleasure at watching this whole. HAHHAAHAHAHA
BODY PERCUSSION!
Posted on May 13th, 2012 Filed in: Life
People have been writing a lot about Lena Dunham’s “Girls” (which from the outside looking in presented itself as a sort of anti-Sex In The City and anti-Entourage…and given that I found both those TV shows at best dim and at worst insulting, just enough to pique my interest).
Getting caught up in the hoopla, ET2 and I decided to watched Dunham’s feature film debut Tiny Furniture this past Friday. Well, ET2 ended up watching and enjoying it. I drifted in and out of consciousness thanks to a Le Trois induced steak-coma…but what I did see was awkward and oddly compelling and worth investing in, especially if a few more attractive co-stars were to be included.
What did you guys think?
Posted on April 16th, 2012 Filed in: Life
I remember coming of age in the late 90s thinking that Asian women were under siege – constantly fending off attacks from hairy, cheesy white guys. It resembled the fall of Rome as much as anything.
Posted on April 18th, 2011 Filed in: Life
This weekend is Carnival on the Mile, a 3 day street fair that happens once a year. Anyway, after the festivities for tonight ended, I stopped at the local bar for one last drink.
I sat at the bar and not soon thereafter, 4 young buxomly ladies from the new Hooters restaurant sat next to me in an otherwise empty bar. I consider myself one of those “the sun is always shining on me” people but I was surprised as the next guy.
Don’t know if it was my new geeky watch (which is a total chick magnet) or the fact that they overheard me telling a friend the brother getting engaged story but soon the ice was broken and I was doing tequila shots with one of the girls.
To make a long story short, I ended up having sex with her in an alleyway as I walked her to the car no more than 30 minutes after our first exchange of words. At no point did we exchange names, phone numbers, Twitter handle or anything of that nature…
Why am I telling you this?
1) I am telling everybody…I am sure it is more sex than what xTian or Evil have been getting…
2) Wasn’t Tiger Woods banging Hooters waitresses? I am only missing a couple of adult film stars and I am in same league as Tiger Woods and Charlie Sheen give or take a couple of million dollars…
3) Not counting the incident at the Minneapolis airport in 2007, I haven’t had anonymous sex since 2005…
and the main reason I am telling you this is to seek your advice…
4) Should I be like Charlie Sheen and chalk this up as a win and leave it as is or should I be going to the local hooters and try to track her down even if all I have to go by is her tramp stamp???
Posted on March 6th, 2011 Filed in: Life
You gotta admit, she cleans up well...
It’s always funny when an Office Dance Party takes us in an unintended direction. I must admit I had no idea that women were so down on Gwyneth Paltrow.
This got me wondering – why are there certain female celebrities that women can get behind and others that they loathe?
Posted on November 22nd, 2010 Filed in: Life
Last night, I met up with a lady friend after work for a little bit of happy hour…
At the end of the night, we ended up in her apartment doing what we have typically being doing for the past 7 months…no strings attached sexual intercourse.
Below are a few single comments made post coitus:
She says: Every time I see you is like I am seeing you for the first time.
She means: I don’t see you often enough…
She says: There is a disconnect in my head…
She means: I am starting to get feelings…
She says: We don’t talk about anything personal…
She means: I want to get serious…
She says: Wake up, you are snoring…
She means: Get out of my house…
Posted on May 25th, 2010 Filed in: Life
As LT #56 stated, my way with women are mysterious, but somehow very effective. I think it has to do with the fact that I can translate most of the common phrases in Womanese to English.
For example, last night, I was asked “where did you learn that move?”
In reality, what she meant to ask was: How many whores have you slept with?
Knowing the actual meaning behind the question, I was able to playfully diffuse the situation by making a stupid joke about my Sciatica acting up.
But Manolo, are there any other phrases you can teach us? Well, yes, and today is your lucky day…
First Lesson
She says: Can I help you with the bill?
She means: There is no way I am going to have sex with you.
She says: I have a stomachache.
She means: I have to take a massive dump.
She says: I’ve never done this before.
She means: ….with you.
Posted on May 11th, 2010 Filed in: Life
Because I am in a reflective mood…
I read a pretty compelling profile on Holly Miranda yesterday in the NY Times. While I was aware of the Jealous Girlfriends I did not find them all that compelling. A little youtubing last night changed my opinion on Ms. Miranda. I am pretty pumped about her forthcoming album.
By the way, the above is from a pretty tight web series called The Black Cab Session, which has indie acts performing acoustically in the back of a black cab. Pretty neat series overall.
Posted on February 22nd, 2010 Filed in: Entertainment
Former Hoser DZB1 checked in with this email to me today
From: DZB1
To: xTian
Re: Spontaneous Masturbation
…So this girl im dating and I are having a robust(I dare say arguement)about her boyfriend. She says she wants me to be her main boyfiriend now that the summer has ended(along with his usefulness of having a house in the Hamptons) and the fall is approaching. I state that although Im flattered by her offer I’m content with being the number two man. This rejoiner for some reason causes her to “tense up’ so in the middle of our conversation she pulls down her pants and starts masturbating herself. Although I am not one to state the obvious i had to ask, “Are you masturbating yourself?” “Yes,” she says, “I’m tense and this helps me relax.”
Any thoughts on this issue? I’m telling you this because I’m hoping that you of all people sum it up in that wry way you have.
————————————————–
More…
Well DZB1, this is certainly a pickle. In the past, when I’ve been presented with such a situation I have considered two options (1) look around for something to steal and quietly excused myself or (2) jump in for some angry sex.
These are the obvious things and I am sure you checked off these options as sub-optimal given the obvious depth of your relationship. Here are a few options might have failed to consider –
1. Say something like “Oh OK, let me know when you are done.” and find something to read. The Atlantic has some good stuff this month
2. Watch it go down. If she at all closes her eyes ask accusingly “Who are you thinking about?” and demand that she focus on you
3. Invite a friend over. I’m usually very busy but Mr. Shoulders has nothing going on at work. He used to play basketball for two hours a day but recently broke his finger so now he can’t even do that. Besides, I think Mr. Shoulders still thinks he can beat you at spades, you gotta remind him who is boss. If he does come over, stare at him while he stares at her. He hates that. I paid a stripper extra once to stare at him from across the room while she gave someone else a dance; he got so upset he tried to leave
4. Hold her and cry a little. Chop an onion if you have to, there is no better way to deal with an awkward situation than to escalate it to its illogical conclusion
Posted on September 4th, 2009 Filed in: Life
Did anyone see this slideshow on the NYTimes web site this morning? This screen capture is a bit too fuzzy to read, but here is the text:
“Former President Al Gore, the founder of the media company that employs the journalists, hugged Ms. Lee. The two women who were stopped on March 17 by soldiers near North Korea’s border with China while researching a report about women and human trafficking. They faced years of imprisonment in the gulag-like confines of a North Korean prison camp.”
Ahhh, the New York Times. It doesn’t matter how much you WANT it to be true, Al Gore was never the President.
Incidentally, did anyone else think that Euna Lee was much cuter in these photos than she appeared in that one picture the press has been showing of her since she was captured? Maybe she should write a book: Lose Weight and Look Great with the North Korean Hard Labor Gulag Diet.
Posted on August 5th, 2009 Filed in: Uncategorized
I got into a rather involved conversation with Lil A the other day that just has not left my mind. Somewhat randomly we started discussing 500 Days of Summer and its potential as a movie (solid) and a soundtrack (incredibly high). This conversation took us to Zooey Deschanel and inspired me to write this. Somewhere in there Lil A challenged me to categorize ZD as “cute” or “hot”. Arguing that she was more than likely “cute’ given her height (short).
More…
I was bothered by this. I don’t think height has anything to do with hotness. I asked her if Katy Perry was then hot by virtue of simply being a taller version of Zooey Deschanel. She said yes. I pushed back. I agreed ZD was “cute” and KP was “hot” but height had nothing to do with it. Katy was also slutty and that’s what makes her hot. Zooey Deschanel, more than likely has a great sense of humor and that makes her cute.
I expanded on this later at a taco truck – to myself of course – Lil A had long since gone home to focus on more practical things – her forthcoming wedding maybe. There I came up with 4 buckets; I think they are mutually exclusive and completely exhaustive (MECE). I think you can take any woman you have ever found attractive and place her into one and only one of these buckets.
HOT – Sex. Thats the first and primary thought that comes to your mind; stuff like “Is she en route to getting sex?”, “Is she coming back from having sex?”, “how likely is she to have sex with me?”, “Is she glistening because she is in the throes of sex right now and not because its the middle of July”. Examples include: Katy Perry, Megan Fox
CUTE – In a coffee shop, overhearing her speaking to someone else, you can’t help but smile or maybe laugh – maybe she’s charming maybe she’s funny. She’s awesome – it takes ten words to notice her but once you don you’re done for. Examples include Zooey Deschanel, Parker Posey (mid 90s), Jillianne Harris from the Bachelorette (but only right after make up)
BEAUTIFUL Borderline abstract. She is the first person you notice in the coffee shop. She photographs impeccably. It’s hard to not weep. Examples include Jennifer Connelly(forever), Alexis Blendel
LOVELY – There is a classic-ness to the look of women in this group, they are attractive not only today but would be at any point in the history of humanity. A section of this group is also reserved for women from other groups who have crossed their mid 40s. Examples include Leighton Meester, Catherine Zeta Jones
I think this is right. Thoughts?
Posted on July 26th, 2009 Filed in: Life
Last night was the season finale of Top Chef. Much to my delight, occasional judge/food sexpot Gail Simmons showed up. I love me some Gail Simmons. Here are a few reasons.
Posted on February 26th, 2009 Filed in: Life
(Author’s Note: Unlike some people at the Hose, Manolo has a real life so he was never seriously emotionally wounded when he was unceremoniously dumped from The Hose…At the same time, Manolo never left. He comes back to check upon The Hose every 4-6 months to see how this gang of misfits is holding up…For example, I have noticed that xTian and Evil have taken my original date concept and run with it. Kudos to them…In fact, I hope they never go through some of my worst moments and refuse to pay medical bills…In their honor, I tell the following tale of woe…)
=================================
My name is Manolo and I have a disease. I am too picky when it comes to women…I seem to be looking for perfection in a world where imperfections are what makes us unique. These imperfections (real or made-up) are used by me as nothing but as a shield not to get close to somebody. Every time I met a new woman, I would ask myself if she was girlfriend/wifey material…If she was not, I would use these imperfections as reasons to abandon the possibilities of what may have been and focus more on short-term satisfaction of physiological needs…Don’t get me wrong, guilt-free no-strings-attached sex is great but like every man before me, I have a hunger for something more…I have arrived at that point in life where one longs to be one with somebody for more than a couple of hours (who am I kidding? I meant minutes…but best 4 minutes of your life…wink!)…
Therefore, I am trying to be a little less picky…a bit more open minded. I am trying hard about overlooking imperfections and giving everyone a chance…
Two weekends ago, I went out to paint the town (color didn’t really matter) with some friends…We are at this trendy lounge when this young woman walks by and catches my eye…what was not to like…tall (5’9’’), slim, red hair, blue eyes, smooth porcelain-like skin…
We seemed to really hit it off. In fact, we spent close to 5 hours together (last 2-3 hours walking down the beach). At the end of the night, we exchanged phone numbers and we went our separate ways, but not before agreeing to meeting once again.
As I was driving home, I kept going back to two things that were holding me back….One of them was her accent. Don’t get me wrong, I like accents. I think they are sexy, especially in the throes of passion. In fact, I am such a believer in accents that I went out and got one of my own. Nevertheless, her Russian accent meant that I found myself at times asking her what she had just said. The other thing was that she has a small mole around her lip…I then told myself if Cindy Crawford has it, why not her? I noticed I was falling into my old patterns so I decided then and there to give her a chance…
I spoke to her a couple of times on the phone and after finding out that she loves the beach, we agreed to go to the beach for our first date. I pick her up and as we are driving to our destination, she starts talking about Halloween and how she needs to buy a costume…I don’t know why she is looking for a costume since the outfit she has already makes her look like a Russian sailor (white short shorts, blue and white striped shirt, hat, sunglasses, pig tails). I think she looks very sexy but afraid of how the comment may be construed, I keep it to myself. Taking a cue to be spontaneous, we drive to a Halloween store I passed by on the way to her house to try on some costumes…Some of them were too hot to handle on a first date but I did not care…if she did not like seeing me in a Hooters outfit, perhaps she shouldn’t have looked…
Anyway, we finally arrive at the beach where I proceed to impress her by breaking out the blanket, a bottle of champagne and a full spread of cheeses and fruits…We sit there talking watching the waves crashing upon another…we start feeding each other and at one point, I drop an apple into the chocolate. I pull the apple out but my finger is drenched in chocolate…she laughs, jumps towards me and cleans my finger dry…I didn’t need another hint…I put a drop of chocolate on her cheek and I clean it…she then puts some chocolate on the tip of my nose and she cleans it…I put some chocolate on her lips….
All of a sudden, we are rolling on the blanket squishing the occasional strawberry or grape as we jockey for an ideal kissing position…From time to time, I put some chocolate on her neck or shoulders or thighs and kiss it away…I put some on her stomach and then….
I see it…I had felt something but I thought it may have been the shorts or t
he shirt…No, it’s not what you think…you see, my Russian sailor has an outie…I have only seen outies in the belies of malnourished third world children so imagine my surprise…
You would think that if you ever ran into one, you could just gnaw on it…maybe even treat it as a kind of a third nipple…
I guess I am not a better man after all…Back to the drawing board…
Posted on October 21st, 2008 Filed in: Life
Inexplicably, I was stuck in Los Angeles this weekend trying to commute home. I missed a connection. It was no one’s fault but my own. It was a reach to think it would work out for me anyway. I had 18 hours in LA and nothing to do.
A quick scan of my cellphone address book showed three people I knew in LA. None were around to entertain me. Finally, I called Sparks, hoping his brother-in-law was in town. Catjjy informed me he was not. I was left alone, in a nice hotel bar, exchanging glances with several other gentlemen who like me were wondering where all the women were.
I finished my drink. Outside, on the curb, I sat near some smokers hoping someone would engage me in conversation. An affable valet who asked me what i needed
“A plan?” I arched my eye brow…a cool breeze hit me…
“huh?”
I explained that I was stuck and no one I knew was around. He nodded knowingly…
“Nah, doooooood, you know what I do when I got nothing to do around here?”
“shoot somebody?” I thought to myself. Somehow I lacked the courage to say that out loud. He reminded me of Miguel…the way he uttered “dude” took 3 seconds to long, just like my old friend and he was of course Mexican
“There’s a strip club up the street just past the Hilton”
I nodded and sat there for a while. I don’t go to strip clubs, not anymore anyway. I outgrew that, or maybe I just stopped going because Manolo, Sparks, The Bumpasaurus, Jazzy, TMO, Evil, Balls Mahoney, KenTak3, ET #1 and 2 and Mr. Shoulders all stopped going…they were the ones with the problem, not me. No one more so than Mr. Shoulders of course…
(One second, Let me see if there is anyone left for me to throw under the bus about going to strip clubs…umm…no…we’re good)
Bored with the stream of cars pulling up to the Hotel, I drifted off walking in the general direction he pointed.
It was a bit further off than he implied but I found it easily enough. The place was horrible. The front was a sex toys shop,around back, in an alley, there was a sign that said “Live Nudes”. An adjoining door had a small cage surrounding it, for smokers apparently. Promising.
The patrol cars parked outside, sealed the deal for me. I would go in…
Walking in, I scanned the place as I ordered a cranberry juice. It was a typical California dive, decorated by a wannabe cowboy in 1975 then never considered again, the floors were sticky. There were red disco lights everywhere.
I took a seat amongst what looked like a small eclectic collection of bikers, airport attendants and cholos with nothing to do. I felt comfortable at first, my catholic middle school had much the same demographic. Then I remembered High School. The likelihood of my ass getting a shiv for being mouthy was growing by the second.
The announcer mentions that it is 2 for 1 time…and a row of women poured out of the back room. I was surprised; these were the prettiest strippers on earth. It’s LA, I guess that’s how it works when the top 5% of America’s beauties move here every year. Not everyone gets to be Vicky Christina Barcelona
Eventually, a Hawaiian stripper approached me. After half a joke that was not at all funny, she walked me to some back closet with a couch.
“It’s thirty, but for an extra twenty you can touch anything but [down there]“
“wow” I was glancing around…this is where the cops bust in, I just know it.
“yeah…for 30 bucks more than that…”
“that’s fine, I’ll take a number 2″ I interrupted her mid sentence…I mean who knew what she would say next…and what I would then be implicated in…
Back at the stage, I sat down and started texting…a dancer asked me to stop as it was rude for whoever was performing.
“That’s fair”
I turned my eyes back to the show. A large brother (let’s say he weighed 4 bills) looked my way
“Damn, this place is off the hook”
I wondered why he was talking to me. I mean that girl there is showing him the goods and he’s looking to me for affirmation. What could I, a total stranger, do for him? Where is the woman in leopard print telling him that talking to some dude you don’t know is just as bad as texting. Where are the manners? Society is doomed.
Soon another stripper, (who looked disturbingly like the Ecuadorian girl from Cheetah Girls on the Disney Channel) informed me that her booth was way in the back and very private.
I said no, and went to get another cranberry juice. I have been very worried about toxins lately.
After working every other deadbeat in the room she came back and sat near me. I bought her a cranberry juice. We discussed natural antioxidants at some length – that and the nature of beautician school. It was here that I learned that the extra thirty led to “hand work”…
This place might have been something less innocent then it first seemed. At this point I decided to clear out before Vice busted in…
Back in the parking lot of my hotel, I ran into the valet. He offered me some green and a seat in a Porsche that was parked there for the night.
Not sure what else to do, I followed him. He dropped the top and we sat there scoping out the stars. I asked him if we were going to take the car out for a spin.
“nah homes, i don’t do that no more”
smart dude
Posted on August 27th, 2008 Filed in: Life
“Ok, let’s play a game”
“Ummm… like Beirut or Flip Cup?” Clearly I was confused. The fellow I was with had been in Shanghai for 4 months, and was here on an expat assignment. He was clearly amused by whatever trick he was about to show me.
“No, no…Look over at the bar. What do you see?”
I looked past the loud Australians, just past some confused Americans on holiday and to the left of the Shanghainese fashionista couples to look at the bar. A row of well heeled, classy women sat at the bar, scanning the room.
“Several bored women”
“they aren’t bored. They are waiting.”
“For?”
“Some are part of the house, they work here and come sit next to you so you can buy them drinks and what not, thus running up your tab. Others, do not work work for the place. They work for themselves. They offer you a massage back at your hotel and then, after a little haggling, its good to go”
My host was enjoying himself too much. I pointed out that I could not tell which was which and besides i was fine drinking a low ball. This was a really nice bar, very upscale. I was surprised this went down here. Oh well…when in Rome
“you’re a putz”
Posted on August 4th, 2008 Filed in: Life
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