I'm A Crotch Watcher

"The angle of the dangle is equally proportional to the heat of the meat provided that the urge to surge remains constant."

I don't know who uttered this insanely awesome phrase, but I shall keep it close to my heart always.

Um, Excuse me Mr. Mcconaughey. Your doodle is protruding.

During my daily cruise of http://www.eonline.com/ I spotted this picture of MM. Usually, he has his shirt off and I'm distracted by his fabulous bod, bizzare man nipples and the fact he runs with a different dog everyday.  But, unable to gaze upon his washboard abs, I spotted his schlong at full mast.  If it is not standing at attention and is instead hanging at ease, then DAMN.  How come no one else noticed this?

I will admit to you all that I am a crotch gazer. Just as guys let their eyes roam from bust to legs, I stick to the part that is at eye level - when I'm sitting at my desk.  Those who enter my office, beware.  Any man who is 5'7" or taller has a crotch directly in my line of sight.  I am not ashamed.  A client may come into my office for a meeting, I'll do a quick peek at the package and he sits down.  Then, as soon as I tip back in my chair, he's staring at my legs.  Remember this guy?  He's still confused.

I will admit I wonder about size, shape, girth, stamina and readiness.  It is only natural.  I'm not curious about every penis that crosses my threshold.  But, I stare at a few.

Will Sell Husband For Two Loaves Of Bread & A Bagel

We have gone nearly carb free in our household.  After TH went was forced to the doctor for physical because I got so annoyed with his slovenly behavior and became fearful he may have a heart attack at any moment so I called to make an appointment for him it was that time of year.  Sure enough, he needs to lose 50 a few pounds.  After gracefully doing the "I told you so" dance around the kitchen floor, I paused during a pirouette and asked how the doctor planned for him to lose weight.  "Lower my carb intake" he said.

Damn.

Those who are married, engaged or in a dedicated relationship with someone knows what happens next.

Um...yeah...I've got to go carb free too.

No punishment is more cruel than stuffing your pie hole with pasta while your beloved is choking down brown rice (I know it's not carb free - baby steps, people).  I couldn't continue my macaroni loving ways while TH was struggling with salad.

I won't pretend that I'm perfect.  The winter weather and my inability to pry my ass out of bed on a dark and frozen morning to run, may have allowed a few pounds to adhear to my frame.  Thankfully, the weather man has promised a few days in the 50's right after we get a nasty wet snowstorm threatening to dump 4-5 inches on us overnight.  Yes, here in New England we like to have a temperature swing of 40 degrees.  Freezing one day, sunny and warm the next.  Come move here and join us in the challenge of dressing each day.  But, I digress.

We have eliminated the pasta (we've gone to wheat pasta, but please don't tell the doctor) and bake potatoes.  There are minimal snacking options in the cabinet and TH is no longer allowed to make everything into a sandwich for dinner.  The man is Joey from "Friends." He will make a sandwich out of mac n'cheese if I don't watch him.

But, the greatest tragedy in this whole diet mess which is totally TH's fault and I'm blaming him for my pain is the lack of bread.  I LOVE bread.  Crispy baguettes, dinner rolls and crusty french bread.  If not stopped, I will make love to a ciabatta loaf and a bottle of olive oil.  Kinky, but it's my thing.  Carbs fill my life.

I also love sweet bread.  Lemon poppyseed bread, slightly warmed with sweet cream butter is delicious enough to make me forget sex for a moment or two.  Banana bread is another fav.  I searched years for a decent banana bread recipe.  Then, quite by surprise, I was looking through an old computer and found a file containing this recipe.  You always think you're going to find porn (and usually do) when cleaning out a former employees computer.  Instead, I found the best recipe for banana bread.

Enjoy, lovers.  Just because I'm suffering, doesn't mean you have to!

Banana Bread

Makes (2) 7x3 inch loaves or 1 bundt cake

Ingredients:
1 cup mashed bananas (3 overripe bananas)
1 cup sour cream
½ cup butter
1 1/3 cups white sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
2 cups all purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
Optional: 1 cup fresh or frozen blueberries

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour pan(s)

Combine banana and sour cream. In a separate bowl cream butter and sugar. Add vanilla. Add 1 egg at a time and beat well. Mix together flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add to butter mixture until just combined. Blend in banana mixture. Gently fold in blueberries. Spread batter into prepared pan(s)

Bake for 50 minutes or until bread tests done. (1 ½ hour in metal pans.)

Random Tuesday - Thanks a Heap

Thank you to LB and his wife who have been "pimpin'" my blog on Facebook.  The naughtiness of that has me in near swoon.

Thank you to Random Guy From Upper Cape for your thoughtful suggestions on woodpecker food to rid my home of the Morning Wood.  It really is a toss up - get rid of woodpecker or continue to watch my husband dance around naked with a just a heavy metal t-shirt and work boots.  Tough decision.

Thank you to MT_2009 (aka Mr. Kitty) for your thoughtful and witty emails.  As promised, if anyone of the Bad Girls become single and serves a terrible sirloin steak, I will send them your way. (This inside joke is my comment to him that if you are served a poorly cooked sirloin steak at a restaurant and you had paid $30 for it, you should get a blow job complete with swallowing.  See what happens when you email me fan letters?)

Thank you Evgeni Plushenko for showing me how a true douchebag acts.  So you didn't win the gold. Maybe next time you'll skate without a grouchy stick shoved up your ass.

Thank you Shaved Head Guy In Yoga Class.  For some reason, you have decided to move from the way way back of the room to the front row - right.next.to.me.  You're not a super sexy guy, but the smell of your cologne, combined with your carnal sounding grunts and glimpses of your muscular thighs had me struggling in my downward dog.  Not only did I cleanse my mind in that class, I added some new material to the spank bank.  Please....Please....PLEASE say in the back row next class.

Thank you to everyone who has followed me from Diamond in The Rough.  It's been a tough transition, but I'm muddling through it.

Thank you Olympics for FINALLY being over.  I haven't been to sleep before midnight in the last 2 weeks.  Why didn't someone tell me I'd be straining to stay awake to watch men in spandex outfits?

That's a wrap, lovers.  Make sure you find me on Facebook.  Not only do you get my blog everyday,  I send love and naughtiness through-out the day.

The Need For Equality in Indecency

We spend the entire first four months of a relationship trying to make the other person think we're perfect. Women try to convince the men that they wake up looking this sexy/fresh and men try to convince the women that they don't have any disgusting mannerisms or that they smell. The next four months are a slow move into honesty. Women try to convince the men they wake up looking just short of adorable and men admit to occasional bowel movement/fart and get caught picking their nose. Sooner or later a year has gone by. Women have become some what comfortable and may or may not go without make up in front of the men. Men have lost all sense of decency and proclaim that the woman shall like him they way he is - skid marks, bed farts, turds left floating in the toilet and all.

TH and I were like that. For the first four years of our relationship, I had him convinced I did not fart or poop and I looked like a Vogue cover every minute of every day. When we went on long trips, I would wait until we ate out at a restaurant so I could use the bathroom. I didn't want to be stuck in a hotel room and have him find out I was just as gross as he was. I have actually farted out the window of the Millennium Bostonian in Boston. A beautiful classy hotel that I stuck my pajama clad hiney out between the terrace doors and polluted Fanueil Hall.

Eleven years later, I could really care less. The man must honestly and truly love me, for he thinks I'm a sex goddess even when I come home from a 1 1/2 hour yoga class, sweaty and smelling of other people’s armpits. (True story! He grabbed me last week) I have been able to perform every bodily function within a 15 foot radius of him and he still thinks I'm fabulous and wants to ravage my body. (not necessary just after or during said functions) Ladies, it's been a relief. Now, I can actually release unwanted gas during a long trip instead of clenching and twisting in pain while I try desperately not to pollute the interior of the car. I did this the other day. Load of coffee during brunch = uncomfortable situation. I just let it happen. Of course, I immediately rolled down the window. I didn't know what the outcome, but I was prepared. TH looked over at me, curious as to why I'd open the car window while it was raining. Then he smirked at me and rolled his eyes. Oh the love! This man is the best.

The only time I ever have a problem with disgusting behaviors is when we have vacation time with his family. This weekend, I was stuck in ski condo for three days with his parents. Three days of rich, yummy food. Three days of excessive alcohol consumption. Three days of intestinal distress. Three days of running to the second floor guest bathroom so no one would know what I was doing. The pure agony of waiting until the first floor guest bathroom was occupied so I could have the excuse to use the second floor. The need to pop up from my carefully accessorized nest on the couch to run into our bedroom to "get something". The jealousy I felt when my father-in-law ripped a big one while watching Apollo or TH while he was moseying around the family room. It's just not fair. Men are allowed to be gross.

Thankfully, we have returned home. To a place where I can truly be my disgusting self.

Guys, your woman is just like you.  Okay, maybe not AS gross as you.  We don't like to sit in the bathroom reading for an hour, marinating in our own stench.  We're also not proud of the sound, bass quality, potency, length and pitch of our emissions.  We make sure the toilet flushes ALL THE WAY and we know how to use toilet paper properly.  But, we ladies are still human.  We don't wake up all purdy (I have long blond hair and TH says I look like an "angry lion" when I wake up) and we're exhausted from looking perfect all the time.  Love us for ourselves.  Be like TH.  The man accepts me for who I am and he gets a blowjob when ever he wants.  No questions asked!

Parlez-Vous Francias Avec Moi....Oh....and Some Bread Too.

Food Snob. It's a proud badge and I wear it with pride. I won't eat anything unless it’s utterly delectable. What's the point?


This past Saturday, I had a little mid-morning business meeting. Eager to escape the confines of the Starbucks and the cliché chains, I trotted down near the airport and hopped onto Hinckley Road. Destination: Pain D'Avion's Café Boulangerie.

Most of us Codders know about Pain D'Avions bread. Available a specialty shops, area restaurants and on site at the bakery. Dozens of kinds of breads, rolls and bagels. YUM! A few years ago, after a brutal fire, the owners set up shop in a warehouse and the public followed. Tucked away between two industrial buildings, the bakery seems to blend well with the "rustic" area. Stepping in the warm, dough spiced air of the cafe; one is transported to a French market and stands in awe of the bounty of bread. Woven baskets hold beautiful ciabatta, focaccia, bagels, crusty rolls and delicate brioche. Baguette soldiers stood by the dozens. Glass cases were abundant with croissants, quiches, salads, and pain au chocolat. I snitch a sample of the chocolate hazelnut. The moistness of the inside, flecked with deep chocolate bits and hints of hazelnut surrounded by a rough crust was enough to send me into utopia. Butter would have been an unwelcome companion.

Nudge by my dining partner that we were suppose to be eating "healthy". I ordered a Croque Madame, an open faced sandwich with black forest ham, gruyere, and egg served on country bread. For "dessert", a yogurt parfait to share. I also ordered a cappuccino - and in these exact words - "as big as my head" - for you novices, that's a double shot, baby!

After ordering at the counter, we picked our way through the cafe tables to choose a spot in the sun. It appeared the cafe had been very busy moments before our arrival and there weren't any tables clear of dishes. A small downside, but I'm not too good to bus my own table. The cafe also features a long conference-like table perfect for the informal lunch meeting of 4 or more.

The Madame was delivered. One bite and I was transported to the European countryside. The sweetness of the ham played well with the nutty, melted gruyere. The hearty country bread stood up to the pairing and was an appropriate platform. The surprise was a small nest of arugula on top. Not noted on the menu, it was a fresh addition to the dish. The peppery crispness added an excellent finish. The parfait was unpretentious and lovely. Creamy vanilla yogurt, sweet sliced fresh strawberries and granola I would swear is homemade. Luscious as a quasi dessert or a simple snack.

Café Boulangerie has class, superb tastes and an atmosphere that is Paris in a laidback Cape Cod kinda way. The staff was a tad aloof, which I hope is a tribute to the traditional French attitude and not overall rudeness. Utterly Sinful gives the experience eight raised glasses out ten.  The cafe is open for dinner as well and you know I'll be back.

Bon chance, lovers

Morning Wood Has Returned

Remember last year when I told you about this hard red-headed thing that kept watching me up at 6:45 AM EVERY MORNING?  Well, it's back.....earlier than last year.

Let's set the stage:  It 5:55 AM.  Two people and a dog are slumbering blissfully.  The alarm clocks are due to ring any moment, signaling the start to another hectic day.  But, they have 5 minutes left in dreamland.

Suddenly, a sharp staccato noise  - stimilar to a machine gun shooting inside a metal barrel - shakes them from their dreams.

The pecker is back!

The snow is still on the ground, the robins are still South, but that damn woodpecker is back in action.  Every year, he gets up at the ass crack of dawn and starts pecking at the metal flashing on our chimney. 

So, just like last year, TH had to run outside and toss rocks up on the roof until he flew away.  This morning, the outfit du jour was a Rush concert t-shirt and workboots.  That's it.  He was naked from the waist down,  all the while, yelling "Get the fuck away from our house"

Never a dull moment at our house.  Interesting that all the fun happens when we're naked.

The Bad Girls Dinner

What happens when you take food and a case of wine then combine it with a bunch of naughty minded women?

Bread in cleavage.

Of course, you know these aren't my breasts.  We have already established the fact I do not have any.  This fabulous cleavage shot is Dollface.  We grabbed her bodacious TaTa's and jammed a baguette between them.  Aren't they beautiful!  Don't you just want to jammed your face in there and give her a quick motorboat.  But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

This past Saturday, the girls and I gathered at the Casa de Fabulous Artist to wine and dine ourselves silly.  Everyone brings a dish, everyone brings their choice of adult beverage.  I brought a dynamite bottle of Pinor Noir.  I don't remember the label, I just remember it being very tasty.  Next time I'll pay more attention for you.

Here is the table:

Here's the spread:

We had angel hair pasta with pesto, shrimp and chicken lo mein and I made a huge antipasto that had bresaola (dried cured meat), fresh mozzarella, roasted herbed tomatoes, roasted shallots, grilled zucchini and summer squash, roasted red peppers, articokes with roasted garlic cloves, portabello mushrooms and asparagus.

And we had bread:

Glorious bread from a local baker.  But, do you see what I see?

Yup.  It's penis bread.  From that point on, it was all down hill from there.

We did everything with that bread.  That phallic piece of dough became the centerpiece of all our pictures.  We even have a video of Dollface and myself doing the full intro to Sir-Mix-A-Lot's "Baby Got Back", complete with the bread penis.  After a few glasses of wine, we became 12 year old boys.  I'm hoping that Simone does not put that video on YouTube.  Talent scouts from Hollywood will be calling me night and day. I am that good at Valley Girl speak.

On a more mature note, we were celebrating Dollface's birthday.  Being a bit of a closet pastry chef, I whipped out a delicious recipe for "That Chocolate Cake" from The Essence of Chocolate by Robert Steinberg and John Scharffenberge. (see below for recipe)

I think I did pretty well.  The cake was inhaled by all and Dollface brought decadent chocolate covered strawberries.  It was chocolate overload and it was good.

To all my Bad Girls, we rocked that night!  Stay tuned, lovers.  Bad Girl Dinner is becoming a monthly event. 

That Chocolate Cake

For the Cake

INGREDIENTS

Unsalted butter and flour for pans

2 cups granulated sugar

1-3/4 cups all-purpose flour

¾ cup unsweetened natural cocoa powder

1 teaspoon salt

1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1-1/2 teaspoons baking soda

2 large eggs, lightly beaten

½ cup canola oil

1 cup whole milk

1 cup boiling water

For the Frosting

INGREDIENTS

1-1/4 cups granulated sugar

1 cup heavy cream

5 ounces 99% Cacao Unsweetened chocolate, finely chopped

8 tablespoons (4 ounces) unsalted butter, cut into ½-inch pieces

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

PREPARATION:

For the Cake:

Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly butter the bottom of two 9-inch round cake pans. Line the bottom with parchment paper, then butter and flour the parchment and the sides of the pans.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the sugar, flour, cocoa, salt, baking powder, and baking soda, mixing on low speed. Min in the eggs, oil, and milk.

Increase the speed to medium and beat for 2 minutes. Reduce the speed to low and mix in the water. The batter will be soupy.

Divide the batter evenly between the cake pans. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, or until a skewer inserted in the center comes out clean.

Remove from the oven and cool on a cooling rack for 5 minutes, then turn the layers out onto the rack and cool completely.

When the cakes have cooled, check the frosting. It should have the consistency of mayonnaise. If it is still too thin, allow it to cool longer.

For the Frosting:

In a small saucepan, combine the sugar and cream and bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring occasionally. Reduce the heat and simmer for 6 minutes. Add the chocolate and butter and stir until melted. Pour into a bowl and stir in the vanilla.

To Frost the Cake:

Place one cake layer on a serving plate. Spread the frosting with a hot palette knife or icing spatula to give the frosting a beautiful shine. Run the knife under hot tap water and dry with a towel. Spread about ¾ cup of the frosting over the top of the first layer. Top with the second layer. Spread the remaining frosting over the top and sides of the cake, heating the knife again as necessary.

Serves 8 to 10