Size Doesn't Matter

Jane first met Jeffrey at Starbucks. She bumped into him, literally, in the queue. I like that word queue. Hard to spell though. Anyway, Jane bumped into Jeffrey from behind and when he turned around it was like the Friendly Giant was towering over her. That's a Canadian reference. If you're not Canadian, think Jolly Green Giant or the Hulk, but lose the green reference, because Jeffrey wasn't green. But he was friendly and jolly and as they sat together out of necessity at the one remaining table in the store, Jane had to laugh behind her hand because it looked like poor Jeffrey was sitting at one of those tiny school desks of Kindergarten kids.

So they got to talking over their latte grandes, because that's what they call them at that snooty Starbucks, otherwise known as medium coffees with a bit of whipped milk and they discovered they had a lot in common. They both loved the same kind of music, had similar interests in movies and enjoyed the same detective novels by authors like Van De Wetering, Lehane, Connelly, Louise Penny , Crais and many many more. So many more they both decided to have another medium coff...er...Latte Grande.

They exchanged numbers and promised to call. He called first and Jane was thrilled. Jeffrey asked if maybe she'd like to have dinner. She agreed and they met at one of the nicer restaurants in town. A lovely meal and a good bottle of Clos des Pares helped ease them both as they continued their discussion about music, books and cinema. She told him she was single. He told her he was divorced, no kids.

One thing led to another and he took her home to his condo. She was impressed by his decor. He told her he shopped very carefully because, given his size he wanted to be comfortable. The kitchen table and chairs were tall, the sofa was extra large and as she would find out later his bed was gigantic.

After several hours of amazing lovemaking Jane quietly got up to go to the washroom and when she came back she yelled "Holy cow, Jeffrey, I almost fell into your toilet. I know you're large and all but that commode is, um, er, commodious!"

Roomy/commodious is the prompt from the folks at Studio30+ this week. Of course I chose commodious.

The Polka Dot Door

A long time ago, when I was 22, my first child was born. That kid grew up on a little Canadian kid's show called Polka Dot Door, produced by the TV Ontario network. And Dad, more often than not, sat through those shows with his little one. Nine or so years later when a brother, and a year after that when a sister came along number one son was moving on to Knight Rider and The Dukes of Hazzard. But there was a nice overlap where his siblings picked up where he had left off with Polka Dot Door. And Dad was right there to welcome them. So you're looking at a Polka Dot Door veteran. The show began in 1971 and ran to 1993. I didn't watch the full run but I did get in my fair share. The formula was pretty simple. A young male and female host, which seemed to change every week, sang songs, told stories, made crafts and generally did their best stimulate little brains. The show opened as follows... Imagination Day! Oh boy! ...

30 Days of Photos III #4 Sour

Check out Ziva's Inferno for the rest of today's photos.

I Am Charlie, I'm A Bore

Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Mel Gibson, Tom Cruise, Colin Farrel...you know the list, it goes on and on. The list of Hollywood hick-ups who not content to meltdown behind closed doors have to drag each and every detail out into the light of day and share it with all of us. Well, add Charlie Sheen to that luckless and lascivious list of losers. In the past few days he's been on every major media soapbox complaining abut how he's been treated and how he's misunderstood. Last night he spent an hour on ABC's 20/20 "in his own words". Charlie, you should have stuck to the script. "I have a highly evolved brain". You know I never did like that song by Helen Reddy in the 70s "I Am Woman". But I have to say the melody really leant itself well to a parody of Hollywood's latest flame-out, Charlie Sheen. Although I never thought I'd hear myself say this, my sincerest apologies to Helen Reddy. And now if you're ready (a little play on wor...

nonamedufus

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