Here’s proof that I have a very confident husband: he was completely unfazed by my shameless male objectification as I ranked the cast members on last night’s Grey’s Anatomy, based on hotness. For anyone interested, here are my top two:
And here is who I rank at the bottom:
“Too young for you?” my husband asked. Exactly. Call me in 20 years, Dr. Avery. Well, actually, in 20 years I will be almost sixty, so probably my tastes will have altered somewhat. But theoretically call me in 20 years.
A while back, I heard someone say that if there was a Hooters for women, it would just be men in business suits walking around holding up their impeccable credit scores, and I have to say, that really spoke to me. If I was to say I had a “type”, it would be an older, salt-and-pepper haired man in a business suit who is kind of a dick, but yet inwardly romantic. Fortunately my husband fits into this genre. It would be a bit strange if he didn’t, just as it would be strange if he suddenly announced that he prefers petite blonde women with big breasts, rather than crazy artificial redheads who really like to make lists and drink wine. Come to think of it, I’m not sure that there are too many other crazy list-making wine-tippling artificial redheads that he is particularly enamoured with, but still.
Last night we watched Grey’s Anatomy and I engaged in sexist behaviour while the snow came down, giant fluffy flakes. It turns out we had a record snowfall! Today the snow is melting and the grass is looking much less brown. Springtime in Calgary! The wet snow is making the grass greener! Hooray for giant wet snowfalls!
Another sign that it is springtime, other than the festive April snowshowers, is that my dog is behaving like an imbecile. I’m guessing this is spring-related, anyway. Yesterday before the snow I went with some friends and their dogs to the off-leash park. We walked and chatted, and as we were almost finished our walk, I noticed my dog way behind us, sniffing and happy and rolling enthusiastically in the grass. When he caught up to us it became evident that not only was he enthusiastically rolling in the grass, he was enthusiastically rolling in some other dog’s poop. I’m not going to lie to you, people. I pretty much hated my dog at that moment and in the moments that followed. I especially hated him as we had driven to the dog park, and the ride home, though brief, was without a doubt the worst olfactory experience I have ever had. My very good friend who was with me not only rode home in my rancid-o-mobile, but she gave me some no-rinse foamy dog shampoo when I dropped her off. I can never repay her for this kindness. I need to buy a case of this no-rinse foamy dog shampoo, to have on hand just in case such a horror ever occurs again. Did I mention my dog is very fluffy? Three applications later and he was back to his normal, non-smelly self. However, it has taken me until now to fully forgive him for being so disgusting.
It’s a good thing he’s so cute.
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Oh. no.
That reminds me of a time when we went in my husband’s parents bushes. They own tons of acres. So anyways we were walking and we saw our dog rolling around in something. It was shit.
But the best part was when we got back up to the house, we told his parents and his dad started to gag and laugh at the same time…he unloaded the campers plumbing out there.
Yup. Human shit.
Aieeee! HUMAN SHIT! Oh boy. That’s terrible.
I will now win the “Awful Things My Dog Rolled-In” award with two words: deer afterbirth. Trust me, shit is nothing compared to sun-ripened placenta.
My men’s attire pseudo-fetish is hiking boots.
Hiking boots – I can really see that. I’m focusing on hiking boots right now because DEER PLACENTA.
*hiking boots, business suits, hiking boots, business suits* *curls up in ball*
Grey’s was rather phenomenal this week. I’m partial to Owen. I’ve never gone for the pretty boy types. Owen’s just so heartfelt, even if he did cheat on Cristina. I am so hoping for a reconciliation there. But it’s the three characters of Callie, Bailey, and Cristina who really make the show for me.
Now, Hugh Laurie, as House, makes my knees weak. I cannot explain it. But he’d be on the top of my list.
Oh girlfriend, you know I am committed to Owen Hunt now and 4EVAH, xoxo. He’s my number one. But you’ll be happy to hear that Sloan is second on the list – let us all take a moment to remember that scene where Derek has gone to see Addison in the hotel room and Sloan emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam and a towel like some kind of Greek God. YUMMY. Next are Dr. Ben, his voice is like pure honey, and Karev, who I would of course heal of all his life-long pain and suffering with my love. I am so amazing when I am being on imaginary TV.
I find Dr. Avery to be very handsome but somehow, he just isn’t my type. But it may also be just that he has too much competition. Seriously, Grey’s is my favourite hour of TV per week just for the eye candy alone. Mmmmm.
(Oh my heavens, I am A TOTAL COUGAR. Rawr!)
The only Grey’s character that did anything for me was George. And he died. Boo.
Dr. Avery does have some pretty eyes, I’ll give him that.