Friday, April 21, 2006
C'mon-a my house, my house, I'm-a gonna give you candy
OK, I haven't posted all week whilst on holiday, so does it seem kinda skeevy that I'm returning to post some MEAT on Friday? I'm guessing the answer is two-pronged, the first prong being YES and the second prong being WE WOULDN'T EXPECT OTHERWISE. I'm sure I'll have lots to say about the trip laters, but to preface the MEAT, I have to say that the ski mountains of Whistler/Blackcomb are positively TEEMING with nubile, young Australians of both sexes. Quantas must fly them here by the planeload to service our every Western Canadian whim. Anyway, the young hotness with whom I rode the gondola (sadly, in only the more benign sense) Thursday put me in mind of this young hotness from House (love, love, LOVE that show), but in the end, I'm doing Hugh Laurie. Oh, I can hear the hue and cry already from all you prancing youth-obsessed nancies out there, but save it bitches. Hugh is fine. FINE. FOO-INE. Of course, for me, the limp he affects as Greg House don't hurt one bit.Note: Apologies to you, Maddie, darling, and Bodhi, darling, for temporarily ignoring your suggestion of the Hartnett. I'm looking forward to seeing his latest, but my tastes are running to more vintage models at the moment.