I am Officially a . . .Cougar?

I have always been open to dating men who are younger than me. When I go out, I usually only meet men who are in their 20's, because they are the ones who are actually out. Most men in their 30's are married with children or would rather sleep with 20-year-old bimbos. I recently began dating a guy who is cute, funny, nice, intelligent, and sweet. . .and, is also ten years younger than me.

The generational difference is rather striking. After all, I am one who prefers to have an actual spoken conversation. He is a big texter/emailer. In fact, I think I have perfected my text-flirting skills. We have had multiple conversations over the texting, and I may need to update my plan a little to accommodate that. Also, he has the capacity to stay awake and alert past midnight. I, on the other hand, require a certain amount of sleep to be functional the following day. However, he is the most attentive, appreciative man I have ever dated. For someone in his mid-20's, he has confidence, character, and a sense of humor beyond his years. So, for all single ladies in their 30's-40's, I highly recommend dating someone who is younger. The ego, insecurity, and lack of personality is absent, and frankly, if men can do it, why can't we?

A Great Start to my Year of Crappy Television

Today was possibly one of the best days of my year.  I didn't even call my family, whom I needed to call.  The television was filled with sinful, apalling, yet, entertaining fun.  VH1 is going to be my savior for the next few weeks.  The "Rock of Love Bus with Bret Michaels" took off today.  This is by far the most disturbing and fascinating program on television this season.  There are now 15 women who will be residing for the duration of his concert tour on tour busses, living in very compact spaces that are well-stocked with alcohol.  In fact, there is likely no running water, but, there is plenty of booze, which flows like Niagara Falls in this program.  The blinding bleach blondness and fake-boobedness is the hallmark quality that gives the "Rock of Love Bus" it's charm.  The alcohol intake and subsequent intoxication occurs very quickly.  There is a Brazilian chick who downs tequila like it's water and chases it with energy drinks.  In fact, the catfight count was around five in a 90-minute period.  Drinks splashed and glasses flew faster than I could say, "Speedy Gonzalez".  One of my personal favorites was this chick who was one of the most plastic women I had ever seen.  She did not have any actual flesh--everything was collagen, silicone, or saline.  This chick said she was a DJ and tried to rap for Bret, which was absolutely hilarious.  The chicks quickly formed alliances, with one known as the "Blondtourage" (not bad for chicks with limited intellectual capacity).  These women drank, made out with each other, and got pretty downright gross.  Superplastic Chick actually took a shot out of another crazy chick's va-jay-jay at a bar in front of Bret, the other women, God, and who knows who else.  Also, this particular cast is graced with a former porn chick, with whom Bret was actually familiar.  After watching a History Channel program on Lust and Envy, this show is a likely representation of the second level of Dante's Inferno.

I am really loving "Confessions of a Teen Idol".  I must admit, a couple of the guys are still pretty hot.  The guy who played Hobie on Baywatch is definitely eye candy, as well as some other dude from Baywatch.  The guy from the Blue Lagoon is still pretty hot in his old age.  However, noone beats Eric, from MTV's "The Grind".  He is hot in a new age, hippy-wannabe kind of way.  He apparently is trying to persuade his costars to begin using whatever concoctions he takes daily, as part of some body and soul cleansing process.  He appears to participate in some form of yoga/tai chi/or something, with these strange contraptions that are similar to those in Space Camp.  Yes, I got to visit Space Camp and I even have the T-shirt to prove it.  Goodtimes. . . 

Where the Annoying People Are

I love to go running.  In Houston, it is a rare moment when the weather is a comfortable temperature, there is no humidity, and the air has the slightest breeze, which doesn't carry any particular odor.  My iPod and I can enjoy the semi-fresh air.  However, going to the local park is a very interesting experience.  Memorial Park in Houston is a poor man's Central Park.  It is a 3-mile circle around a golf course.  However, on Monday evenings, it becomes a local hotspot, like Butter or Bungalow 8 in New York.  Everyone dons their designer running attire.  Women literally wear full make-up, fix their hair, and don't run at a sweat-inducing speed.  The stunningly hot men are all out in full-force: shirtless and sweaty.  Actually, the sweat stains on people's shirts make good Rorschach Personality Test ink blots.  As for those gorgeous, shirtless men, they would definitely not be interested in someone like me.  I try to touch, but, I can't get close enough for a quick ass-grab.  However, the chicks are terribly annoying, like mosquitoes that you smash and then more buzz around.  The blond highlights, fake implants, and fake tans are rampant, looking to be someone's trophy.  Sadly, they are in better shape than those of us who put effort into running.