rustle

Like most guys, when it comes to "gift holidays," I'm whipped. There had better be something special on certain days, or I get guilted. Usually, the gifts I give are practical, though. I'm not gonna give somebody something that'll be in the trash in a few days.

"Are you talkin' to me? You need your eyes checked." What's your favorite place to be petted?

herb-crusted pork tenderloin 1.5 parts salt 1 part pepper 1 part ground oregano 1 part ground thyme 3 parts rubbed sage 1 part dried minced garlic mix it all in a mortar and pestle and apply to the outside of the tenderloin. put 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil in a pan. When hot, sear the tenderloin on all sides, then throw into a moderate oven for 20-30 minutes. cut into medallions.

Yes, Finn, people are afraid of admitting their sexuality. Fear and self-loathing aren't far apart. It's not just an unpleasant fiction. In some places and in some families, it can literally mean a death sentence. Matthew Shepard didn't die all that long ago. I grew up in a deeply conservative state, and lived in fear of anyone finding out. I don't make friends easily, and didn't want to jeopardize the few friendships I had. Mom was strung out on valium every day of my teenage years (prescribed, of course), and starting to date again. My siblings are older, and each left home at 18. I didn't feel much attachment there, and still don't. Sometimes, you don't want to lose what little you have. I still keep it on the down low at work. It was a different culture when I was your age. Get hold of the Mike Wallace "60 Minutes" episode in which he discusses "The Homosexuals." The stigma assoociated with same-sex attraction was suffocating. Having had gay friends older than myself reminisce about back in their day, things were far more frightening then. A friend of mine attended a gay party with a female friend. The party got raided, and the cops reported the presence of each attendee to their bosses the next day to get them fired, which they were, every one. My friend talked his way out of it, since he went with a woman. I've known guys to get disowned, disinherited, and be given 15 minutes to pack one bag and get out before they got shot. I know several folks on this site who have heartbreaking tales to tell. But, you know what? Your question gives me hope. To hear that one guy grew up in an environment where he felt able to be himself, and could unselfconsciously ask that question? That sounds an incredible fiction to me.

This appeals to a romantic notion of what Scotland was all about when it was independent. Reality was quite different. Like certain US politicians and political aspirants who talk about "their America," or die-hard southerners shouting, "The South shall rise again," (I've actually heard that many times) they grasp at a fantasy, out of discomfort with reality.

I've played chess since I was 4, and figure that got me over my dyslexia. Monopoly was a family favorite for many years. Lots of games of Risk over many, many shots of tequila. But my favorite game is Scrabble. One line from Kill Bill says it so well - "I love that word, but one so rarely gets to use it in a sentence." One game last week gave me a chance to play: paldron rive greave tasset coppice halberd aegis falchion quoit How else am I ever going to get to use those words?

All the best, brother. Miss ya.

I get my quota of reality in daily life. Reality TV pales by comparison.

All the best, girl. Kick it out!

Friday, I was on the elevator, and witnessed an exchange: man: How are you doing? woman: I'm fine. man: That's good. woman: No, actually, I'm AWESOME. man (as the elevator opens and he steps out): That's wonderful! Have a BLESSED day! It seems the more public the display, the worse the person lives his or her life. I miss the privacy and humility of faith I saw more often as a child, before little chromed plastic fishies appeared, along with religious bumper stickers, on their cars. It's as if people now greet each other with the secret club handshake, as they're using prescribed vocabulary to identify themselves.

I'm sorry to hear this. She and her twin sister, Ann Landers, wrote syndicated advice columns for decades, and both were topics of conversation over breakfast in many households. Sometimes her advice was poignant, sometimes hilarious, occasionally wrong, but whenever she was wrong, she'd publish a retraction, an apology, and the correct info. They call it being responsible.

No, your butt makes your butt look big. The dress makes you look like a big-ass vase.

Ladies, there are plenty of exciting new looks out there for you, too. Like these visions from a Berlin fashion show held this month.

Glutton for punishment?

I'd sooner wear a pink sequin thong with a cammy tank top and plastic tiara. O crap! I just gave myself a visual that's gonna haunt me the rest of my life.

I fully agree with one point, James. Anybody who's not mentally competent shouldn't have access to a gun. All the mass killings we've seen are committed by people who aren't competent. And those people rarely show up on the radar for background checks. Mental illness, whether it's batshit insanity or moderate depression, is a societal problem, and all the legislation in the world won't make as much difference as being involved with the people around us, and seeing to it they have the support they need. That can be as simple as just being nice, or seeing to it that the withdrawn kid who won't look you in the eye (read Adam Lanza here) has someone to talk to about stuff. In the Constitution, the second amendment refers to the need for a "well-regulated militia" as the justification for keeping and bearing arms. They were talking about citizen soldiers, called up to fight invaders. Times have changed, since we have the National Guard. The Constitution also prohibits requiring citizens to house and feed soldiers, yet we have a vast standing army supported by tax dollars. What's going to come out of this discussion? Some poorly-written law or executive action. Why? Because our government has to be seen as "doing something." That's why I urge responsible gun owners to get involved in this discussion. Don't leave it to the government. Talk to your rep and senator. Express your misgivings about proposed government actions or suggestions to address mass killings. Keep talking to them until they listen.

Beautiful guns, to be sure. You raise good points, and I HOPE nobody's talking about collecting family heirlooms, nor everyday tools, but chances are, somebody is. Every law that's passed is a reaction to something that's already happened, and many of them, while well-intentioned, are poorly conceived and poorly written. Having said that, though, is there any good reason to allow clips with a large number of rounds in the marketplace? Should guns be sold without any background check at all? I'd encourage every responsible gun owner to join in a civil and reasoned conversation, right now. Maybe the answer to Newtown and Columbine isn't regulation of gun ownership, but social reform, starting with each of us. But the hystrionics need to chill. The TN nutcase that stated that if gun control passed, he might start killing people didn't help the debate. Nor does the NRA with its absolute stances.

OMG, I have a picture of Yang with WOOD. Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel

Soooooooooo, Yang... when do we get to see YOU in some of these?

Since the fire, about all I've done with my spare time is shopping. Now that the house is furnished, I find myself looking for a hobby. All my toys were lost, and since I had so many interests over the years, I'm having trouble picking one of the old hobbies or deciding on a new one.

It's all the same everywhere. Like looking for a job. You hear nononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononono yes.

Joel Osteen, huh? Landscape contractors I know were working on his place in the country. When he came out to look at the progress, he had a buxom teenage girl under each arm. And this fine, upstanding man stiffed my friends for several thousand dollars. Remember the Rubik's cube? Somebody gave me a package of 4 of them, only they had other images, like snakes on one. I swear, I don't know why people think I like puzzles. I'm not any good at solving them, and eventually (quickly), they go into the landfill. I was invited to a regifting party right after, but didn't go. Why? The person who gave me the puzzles was also invited. Before the fire, I could've loaded up a big red bag full of crap, and taken it all. Now, I don't have much of anything to give up. My closets are largely bare, and what's in there I like and want to keep. I gave the puzzles to a thrift store.

How about we play the questionnaire that James Lipton used to ask in the actor's studio show? What is your favorite word? perspicacity What is your least favorite word? awesome What turns you on? foreplay What turns you off? cleaning up afterwards What sound or noise do you love? harness bells on a cold, clear morning What sound or noise do you hate? parents belittling their kids What is your favorite curse word? shit What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? archaeologist What profession would you not like to do? cop If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates? Nice cock!