How now brown cow!

I'm relearning English, or rather old English words every day. I thought "cheeky" meant things you don't say or do in public, but apparently not.

I wanted to go country, but twist of fate, I'm going British.

Reflection: My lawyer is British, my new friend is British, and Paul and Ringo reunited last Sunday at the Grammy's.

I should ask about country music in England. 

British Country!

Anyway,

My new English friend sent me this beautiful artsy rendition of a park in Sheffield.

Good news is,

If you take 3 steps and get tired,

There's a park bench!

 

 

Butty

Los Angeles needs rain. Supposedly it's going to today. Lets hope.

T. Sheffield asked how my "butty" was. I thought he meant my butt! Then I learned he was referring to the grilled cheese sandwich I ate for lunch. Awkward.

8:49am

Just got this in my email from T. Sheffield,

"Ended up just feeding a cheese butty into my face."

 Nice! You know, here in the U.S. that sentence means something else entirely!

Pen Pals

Mr. T Sheffield is an electrician at a Sheffield theater/playhouse! How cool is that! It may not seem "glamorous" to you, but to me it is. Romantic, even. Not a dozen red roses and love letters in the sand romantic, but rather lost in hours of unaccompanied midnight stargazing romantic. 

Sadly, he and his friends leave today back to England. 

It's unusual for me to meet someone and then have an online relationship with them.

I'm going to write him something,

On beautiful stationary.

I haven't done that since...

Well,

Simone. Gordon.

Chapter one

I've been swapping emails almost daily with one of the guys I met last week from Sheffield, England, who I'll call T. Sheffield. For now it seems I have a pen-pal. I like it. A lot. It's nice to just talk with someone about other things, not ourselves. I don't even know what he does for a living. I just asked him in this morning's email.

Even though T. Sheffield is English, and most likely very open minded as most Europeans are, I'll nonetheless ease into my sinful proclivities slowly.

Though,

The last time I did something I wouldn't talk to my family about was...
October 2012?

Still,

It's just nice talking to someone about beaches, sharing humor, random things, and different vegetarian foods (he's a strict vegetarian.) 

Yesterday T. Sheffield bought a Raiders shirt. I asked him if he realized he bought a shirt about an American football team, and not 12th century Norsemen who used human skulls as drinking cups.

T. Sheffield said he was more of a Dolphins fan. Again, I don't know if he means American football or actual sea mammals.
We're still working on our communication!

At the moment T. Sheffield thinks I'm a nice girl. I like it.   

I finished the book I was reading Blackburn . It had an interesting ending. Books on non/fictional serial killers can only end so-many ways, he either gets caught or doesn't get caught.

But,

I guess that's the ultimate question from chapter one.
  
Composition of character -- fantasy, reality, until death ends all of our bullshit.  

"Does this shirt make me look stupid?"

My dearest Los Angeles,

There is no correct answer to this question.

If I say "no" then you accuse me of lying. If I say "yes" you throw 5.0 seismograph temper tantrums.

Now don't get mad but, it seems lately, almost on a daily basis, you're being needier than usual, asking me if this shirt makes you look stupid - C'mon sweetie, what do you want me to say?

I'm trying to be nice, understanding, kind and sincere, you're going through something I get it, but you're making it very hard on me and I don't think that's fair. 

Now,

Who am I to say what's fair?

But,

And I hate to bring this up,

Lets put some things into perspective. I pay your rent. I pay your bills. I pay your tax. And while I'm not some knuckle-dragging barbaric Neanderthal expecting you to put out every time I want it, I'm just asking for a reprieve from your mood swings. That's all.

Truth is, I like my city a little nutty, that's why I love you so much.

Okay?

Now who needs a hug? :)

      

January 21, 2014

Who wants to drink a bottle of wine with me tonight and celebrate!

This is going to be the best country song (by a little Los Angeleno Asian girl) ever written!


11:39am

"The internet taketh, and the internet giveth!" As was said by Jesus, or Moses, or the guy on the corner dressed as a slice of pizza and handing out flyers for $5.99 cheese pizzas.

3 guys from Sheffield

A few nights ago three guys from Sheffield, England walked into the lounge. Lounge lighting is nothing more than a few red interior lamplights, the luminosity of moonlight when someone opens the back door, and whatever glows out of the television mounted on the wall. When these three guys walked in I could only make out their silhouettes at first. They were big guys, lumberjacks, and as my eyes adjusted I was able to distinguish more contour. I could see they were inked, in worn denim, short hair, beards, 20 gage lanced, and all-weather terrain. I grew up with guys like them. 

Working in the lounge is a big change from what had become my regular routine but I had an opportunity and seized it. I want to be where the people are. Real people. Not the bright light avant-garde $10,000 (that's ten-thousand dollars) per one Ono Champaign cocktail at the Encore, but real people, rum and coke, people.

These three guys looked like rum and coke, people.

Turns out they were Budweiser people, from Sheffield England. Three of the most down to earth, nicest guys I've ever met.   

Working in the lounge is temporary, just filling in for a few weeks, but I forgot this night life, I forgot how it changes your diet, changes your sleep, changes your mood, makes you forget everything you used to do during the daylight. I like it. I lost 7 pounds in the last week and my eyes now hurt when I see daylight, but that's to be expected. 

The 3 guys from Sheffield and I talked until closing time while they drank their Budweiser. Among many, many other subjects we talked about Penn and Teller's episode of Bullshit on recycling, Prius cars, I asked them a thousand questions about Sheffield, we talked about hockey, we debated over the reason Americans don't call soccer-football and football-soccer, they told me about their travels and adventures, we talked about the political strife in Egypt, we talked about food, alcohol, the infrastructure of different social circles in various parts of the country both in America and England... I was in heaven.  

One of the guys and I swapped emails. "If you ever cross the pond..." he said.

Count on it.


When the night was over,

When I found myself back in my living room,

In front of the television, 

Drinking a Sapporo,

Poking at something I heated up in the microwave,

I was too exhausted for either.

But I forced myself to stay up,

Because,

as if it was a sign,

Dolly Parton Southbank Show, was about to come on. And following that was Dolly Parton Song By Song. 

I am now a Dolly Parton fan.

I should film this.

"Little Asian girl in a big Country world, somewhere in Los Angeles."

             

MLK

We who in engage in nonviolent direct action are not the creators of tension. We merely bring to surface the hidden tension that is already alive.
-- Martin Luther King Jr.

The devil's playhouse

I'm watching The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. That settles it. Dolly Parton is the #1 badass in country music. I'm going to title my country song after her.

I was watching The secret Life of Walter Mitty but Dolly Parton kicks too much ass. 

Morning romance

The Ginger Pussy and me this morning, cuddling and watching

Portrait of Jennie on TCM.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Awkward

 

 

I give the Ginger Pussy back to his daddy in 6 weeks.

The little lion will be missed.

Until next time...

 

p.s. Pajama top by LLBEAN!

 

 

Pennywise

Pinot Noir

It's a little funky but drinkable for a cheap wine.
It's a wine I'll get again but only when I'm hanging by myself.
Friends deserve better.

 

 

Anyone see the cat lately?

 

 

 

Country Hollywood style

Sometimes it's still like I'm 15 years old living at home. I wake up to text messages from dad that is either him scolding me about something random I had written, or dad trying to send text pics of him and some guy named Gram who he went ice fishing with. Who's Gram? Only the pic of dad and Gram doesn't attach, but that doesn't stop dad from resending the text pic 126 more times and still no picture! The picture doesn't go through because of my ninja skills. People do what they do, but they don't have to send me photos of them doing it, like hunting and fishing. I don't need to see an animal suffer and slowly die in excruciating pain, first thing in the morning, or ever. 

This is also why I'm not on Facebook or Twitter. Dad does both, and every time I wrote something he thought was overly inappropriate (even for me) dad would quote scripture from the Bible just to be a smarty-pants. I would then counter quote with a line from (say) the Sex Pistols and the battle would rage on like a game of dysfunctional Chicken. And can I just say for a Catholic, dad says, "God Damnit!" more than anyone. Are you guys even allowed to say that?

So now I'm writing a country song or trying to anyway. It's not easy writing songs. I've been pondering events that have since occurred in the last 6 days once I decided to write a song, and from those events piece together lyrics:

Bulletproof Vest
Dolly has dynamite
Merle is a bad motherfu@#*! 
My dad's batshit crazy
Can of peas
"Johnny" got his girl pregnant and can't afford either 
Don't need alligators 
Fat Cat (smoking hot) sex dreams
Mark has no memory
Hard labor country

Have you been to Outpost in Hollywood? They're open noon daily. I'm going some time over the weekend. Thrilllist.com called it a "cum-saloon". Not sure what they mean by that but it's enough to get me in the door!

This is my mission for 2014, write a country song. Maybe perform it some place? 

It's a slow work of progress but it's taking me places I've never been before.

Cum-Saloon?

In a world...

I happened to be in Los Feliz that afternoon. I called a girlfriend of mine who lives in Los Feliz and she met me for cocktails. But since I called my girlfriend out of the blue, she said it would take her a half hour or so to throw herself together and meet me. I decided to wait for her at a café. I ordered some coffee and was just going to mess around on my laptop.

I sat at the last available table, a very small table next to a very attractive looking couple. A few minutes later I realized, mostly because they were talking so unbelievably loud, that he is from Italy, she is from Japan, they had just met, and the mutual language between them is English. Very bad English.

Shortly after sitting down at my small table, Ms. Japan kept saying the word "Japan", and Mr. Italy kept saying the word, "Italy" and that's how I came to the conclusion she is from Japan, and he is from Italy -- that and their accents.
 
And because he is from Italy, and she is from Japan, I'm going to refer to them for the remainder of this blog as "Italy" and "Japan".

I always root for the underdog. A hard earned "A" gets my respect every time. And these two were struggling so hard to talk to each other, their effort was pure poetry.   

After getting situated at my table, Japan and Italy were naming cities in Thailand. Phuket. Bangkok. Trang. Udon. etc. Then they started listing sushi they liked. Poki. Yellow tail. Uni. Ika. etc.

"Do you like Mochi?" Ms. Japan asked. Then she started listing them. Green tea. Strawberry. Vanilla. etc.

"I love food with spice." Mr. Italy said. The  he started listing them. Chipotle. Garlic. Cajun. Creole. Cayenne. etc.

"It sounds funny but I like peas. Americans hate peas! I love peas!" Mr. Italy said. "Even the American vegetarians hate peas!"

Not all Americans hate peas. I like peas. I eat at least 80% vegetarian diet and I like peas. 

"Peas?" Ms. Japan inquired.

"Yes. Peas." Mr. Italy replied. "They're small, round, green, come in cans and frozen bags."

And in pods. Don't forget pea pods. Peas do grow from the ground.

I generally stay away from eating meat if I can. Not for political reasons but for the same reasons I make all the effort in the world to stay away from carbs. Meat/carbs bulks you up. And when you're very short like me, diet plays a significant role in what will help keep you trim, or make you fat... along with exercise, genetics, other forms of consumption, blah, etc..

People like to tell me, "Well if we don't eat cows they will grow in number and take over the world." Actually I would like to see that! We can call it the great "Man, Moo" war of 2020 or whatever year it takes place in!

"Your daddy died fighting the cows, honey. Be proud."  

Fist bump to Mr. Italy for working his veggie-game. I never heard anyone try so hard describing peas. Thing is, and I can't help but wonder, between Italy and Japan one of you has a Smartphone, right? Couldn't Italy just Google her a picture of what peas look like? But in all honesty, she knows what peas are. Japan has peas. They just serve them differently. She was either trying to keep the conversation flowing on her limited English, or she was messing with him. And, again, I can't help but wonder, don't Smartphones have language translators in them? Or is that just on the new Smartphones? I wouldn't know. I'm not allowed nice phone since 2007 AKA the year I dropped and broke five cell phones.

Anyway,

I think she said the word, "rice" about 35 times. I kept hoping maybe I would get some rice cooking tips but no such luck. I once dated a guy who knew how to make the perfect rice so it had a layer of "crisp" on top yet "sticky" rest of the way through. It was amazing. And he had two of the cutest little pet runt bunnies. He loved to make dinner and I would bring over the wine and dessert, and we'd have dinner, drink wine, play with the runt bunnies, watch a movie and have great sex. I forget why we stopped dating?

Anyway,

Each time Japan said, "rice" Italy changed the subject back to Mexican food. It was like listening to a couple that's been married for 90 years.  

"With Japanese rice..."

"I love Mexican food."

"You need the right grain of rice..."

"With Mexican food it's all about good seasoning."

"And you no overcook rice..."

"I once had a burrito, they seasoned the beef for 24 hours."

And then suddenly, randomly, Italy and Japan started listing states together. They got stuck on the "M" states.

Main
Minnesota
Maryland
Mississippi
Massachusetts
Missouri
Montana

"There's one more." Italy said.

Michigan.

"Main!" Ms. Japan, yelled.

"No we said that one." Italy replied.

Michigan!

"Mississippi!" Ms. Japan yelled. 

"No. We said that one too." Mr. Italy reminded.

Michigan!!

"What state are we missing?" Ms. Japan asked.

Damnit! Michigan!!

The half hour flew by. I don't even think I typed word one into my laptop when my girlfriend text me that she was finished getting ready.

I was sad to leave my table... and them. 

In my mind Italy and Japan end up together. They date, fall madly in love, marry, live in bliss, and have a child that eventually cures cancer.

In Michigan!!

And,

Every year,

On their wedding anniversary,

Among other things,

As a token of love,

As a token of remembrance,

Italy gives Japan,

A can of peas.

Fat Cat

I have a real blog coming (probably) tomorrow or Monday.

 

Last night we had Fat Cat - Pinot Noir

 

I love this wine for two reasons.

 

1. It's just a smooth low maintenance inexpensive good wine.

 

2. Then when I went to bed I dreamt I was having incredible sex with a famous porn star (name withheld)

in a gorgeous mansion, on a beautiful red velvet lounge, with 100 or so people watching us, when suddenly my partner, the famous porn star, whispered in my ear, "Turn around! Look who's behind us!" and, mid sex, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were standing directly behind our lounger. And while still "inserted" Brad Pitt started bro-mancing  my partner, "Hey man, so great to meet you!" Brad tells my partner, slapping him on the shoulder. My partner replied back, "I love your movies!" All while my partner is still "inserted". Then Brad and Angelina took a seat on a couch in front of us and watched, only now the whole thing was awkward.

 

Still a kick-ass dream!

Definitely drinking this wine again!     

 

 

Ok maybe I don't need alligators

I don't really know anything about country music besides Johnny Cash. I've been to a few country bars like the one in Chatsworth. I can't remember the name of it, but it was a fun bar. Everyone was really nice. It's the one that hangs the Confederate Flag and teaches line dancing. 

I get and respect country music is a way of life in part stemming from hardships, works of labor, and heartache; the truest art of simplicity, a man, a woman, a guitar, and the blues with a touch of southern. It's not about technicalities and that in itself is beautiful.  

I grew up in a Midwest suburb but I know labor. I know what it means with my own hands. I know the farming life, and I know about the machine shops of industry, and the politics of each trade. I worked in both environments, as did my friends and their parents, sometimes on brutal sides of opposition between occupation and union.

For the most part my personal life is rather simple, intentionally, but every now and again, very rarely, someone comes along who can't just do the right thing, and leave peacefully. And the only music that relates to those times, for me, is country music.

And while I can't relate to the lyrics -- no I've never been to Folsom Prison, or watched an ex lover get married -- I can relate to the feeling of being internally overwhelmed with frustration.

Without going into too much detail, someone I was involved with made an investment with me. I made an investment with him. It was a joint mistake but he wanted me to bear the brunt of the investment, just pile it all on me and walk away without an ounce of responsibility. And for a while I allowed that to happen because it was easier for me mentally and emotionally, than dealing with him. It's a wasted venture chasing after someone who proved to be utterly irresponsible.

But then,

I couldn't bear the brunt of the investment any longer. And it pissed me off that he just sat back and let me. Long story short, I made him take financial responsibility (which made him mad) but after a very lengthy negotiation we made an agreement, entirely in his favor, he had to take some financial responsibility but not all he's responsible for, and in our agreement it released him from thousands of dollars, and I did so because he said he got a girl pregnant and couldn't afford the entire sum. 

But,

Rather than sign the new agreement releasing him from thousands of dollars, he's just sitting on the agreement for no other reason than to be further irresponsible... and because then he would have no other reason to see or talk to me ever again. 

In truth the country song belongs to the poor girl who's pregnant by him because he won't take responsibility. We can only hope she has money and a good family or we (tax payers) are going to be the ones taking care of her and her child.

And that is a country song in the making if ever there was one.

Still,

If there's no pickup trucks,

Or 24 hour roadside bar,

Or prison,

It's not a country song. 



9:50am


Look what I found. Awesome!

I'm in the mood to drink some beers tonight with a cowboy!

Cowboys don't like Asian girls though, do they?

Do they make country songs like this anymore?

It's by Loretta Lynn.

 

Well your pet name for me is Squaw
When you come home a drinkin' and can barely crawl
And all that lovin' on me won't make things right

Well you're leavin' me at home to keep the tee pee clean
A-six papooses to break and wean
Well, your Squaw is on the warpath tonight

Well I found out, a-big brave chief
The game you were huntin' for ain't beef
Get offa my huntin' grounds and get outta my sight

This-a war dance I'm doin' means I'm fightin' mad
You don't need no more of what you've already had
Your Squaw is on the warpath tonight

Well-a that fire water that a you've been drinkin'
Makes you feel bigger but chief you're shrinkin'
Since you've been on that love makin' diet

Now don't hand me that old peace pipe
There ain't no pipe can settle this fight
Your Squaw is on the warpath tonight

Well I found out a-big brave chief
The game you're a hunting for ain't beef
Get offa my huntin' grounds and get outta my sight

This-a war dance I'm doin' means I'm fightin' mad
You don't need no more of what you've already had
Your Squaw is on the warpath tonight
Yeah, your Squaw is on the warpath tonight

-- Loretta Lynn
I love her hair! There isn't enough Aquanet in the world to hold my Asian hair up like that, I've tried!
         

The Gospel of Cash

He won't leave. He won't make a clean break. He lingers on to her. He holds on, hoping for a glimmer of affection from the girl who no longer wants him. His new girlfriend is pregnant. She knows he won't leave the past behind him. She knows he's holding on, desperate. The pregnant girlfriend knows he won't be with her completely. She knows, and she takes it.

"Early one mornin' while makin' the rounds; I took a shot of cocaine and shot my woman down; I went right home and I went to bed; I stuck that lovin fourty-four beneath my head"
--Johnny Cash 

Parkers Estate

 

Wine on tap. How do I get one of these? ;)

 

 

Parkers Estate - Pinot Noir

So good!

Meat fries! (not mine)

 

Selfie!

 

 

COCK(tail) blocking!

I had 45 minutes to kill.

There was a sandwich shop nearby. I went in.

I'm early, no worries, I'll grab a Diet Coke, order a sandwich, pick at it, hang out for 45 minutes, drink my soda and read my book.

The restaurant was empty. I took a table in the far back.

Soon after I sat down with my veggie sandwich and Diet Coke, a very lovely and attractive woman who worked at the restaurant started cleaning the table to my left with a dishrag. I knew she was there, working, but I kept my nose in my book and minded my own business...

When she was done cleaning that table, she left...

Minutes later she came back with her dishrag and started cleaning the table to my right. Again I knew she was there but I kept my nose in my book and minded my own business...

When she was done cleaning the table to my right, she left...

Then she came back again with a cleaning rag and (I guess?) sanitizer spray and started scrubbing the table to my left...

When she was done scrubbing the table to my left, she went directly to the table to my right and started scrubbing that table...

By now she was a little hard to ignore.

I'm alone in the restaurant, and of all the tables she could be working on, she's only working on the two tables where I'm sitting. I'm not the brightest bulb in the box, but I do know when something is going on.

I looked up from my book and smiled at her. She smiled back. Pretty. Then I stuck my nose back down into my book, minding my own business.

When she was done scrubbing the table to my right, she walked back over to the table to my left and started kicking the chairs under the table...

I looked up at her again.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Good." I replied. "How are you?"

"Good." she said. "It was crazy here a few hours ago!"

We made small chit-chat. Afterwards I stuck my head back down into my book.

She then went to the table to my right and kicked those chairs under the table. Then left.

A few minutes later she came back with a sweeper broom.

"What are you reading?" she asked.

"A book about a serial killer." I replied.

"Oh wow! which one?" she asked enthusiastically.

"It's fiction." I tell her. "Sorry. No one you've heard of."

"Oh." She said sounding a little disappointed, and started sweeping the carpet.

I decided that if she finds another excuse to come over to where I'm sitting, I'm going to ask her out for a cocktail. I don't know what this girl's story is, but I was willing to find out.

When she was done sweeping the carpet, she left.

A few minutes later she came back with a tray of stacked condiments used to refill those on the table and started refilling the condiments on the table to my left.

That's it, 

I was going to ask her if she wanted to hang out some time and grab a cocktail.

But before I could ask her, a guy came up with his lunch and sat down at the table to my right. Apparently these back tables were the place to be!

As soon as he sat down the girl grabbed her condiments and left. I didn't see her again.

Cock(tail) blocked again!  


GUYS,
I know some of you are new to this, but this is how it works, you sit a few tables away and let the girls finish their business and then you make with the small talk once they're done. Ask to borrow the salt. Something discreet and go from there.

Oy!

A text message from home

"... Weather here is frigid. Yesterday -25 and felt colder because of wind. Today -15 so getting better. All the way up to zero at this hour. You probably miss the cold huh? ... We love you!! Dad and C..."

I love you too!

19 years old. I walked less than 7 blocks to my nanny job. I worked for a flight attendant. Her little boy was the coolest kid. Smart. Talented piano player. It was just after Christmas/New Years. I lost my hat earlier that day and was not coming from home. And in those 7 blocks I got 3rd degree frostbite on the top/back of my right ear. I'll spare you the gross details of what happens when you get 3rd degree frostbite. In the end I lost a small part of my ear. The top of my right ear curls down, permanent damage from the frostbite. And that was the last January I spent in Minnesota. 

Love you guys too but if you want to see me January - March you guys are coming here!  

CNN has been playing the documentary March of the Penguins otherwise known as my childhood! Moving away from home is probably why I'll never find a mate but I'm perfectly fine with not freezing off any more body parts!   

Take care of yourselves and each other Midwest and east coast! 


8:32am

Looks like it's going to warm up to -7 in MN today. I think it was anything below zero we weren't allowed to go outside and play. 


9:29am

I just opened my windows here in Los Angeles to air out the place and I'm already looking for a warmer sweater. Such a wimp.

Wine recap

Good wines I've blogged about...

Dearly Beloved - (red blend)
Apothic Red - (red blend)
Toasted Head - Cabernet Sauvignon
Stonehedge - Old Vine Zinfandel
Hess Select - Pinot Noir
Mark West - Pinot Noir
Hess Select - Cabernet Sauvignon
Souverain - Merlot
Wild Horse - Pinot Noir
Smoking Loon - Syrah   

Since October 2013 I've only tossed one bottle of wine immediately after uncorking it...

Once Upon a Vine - (red blend)

I'm sure the wine had just turned, and unless you buy directly from a vineyard it does happen sometimes, but chances are I won't try it again any time soon.

An occasional cheap wine drink in my house,

Red Diamond -  Cabernet Sauvignon

It's a very rough wine but it's cheap and drinkable when you're alone watching the sun set and contemplating life,

Which usually then results in Curry take-out and On Demand.

Smoking Loon!

(Syrah)

"Besides his bein' kinda crazy, they called him the Smokin' Loon 'cause he was so dam' efficient," Jake began, snubbing out his cigar. "He'd take care of business an' get in an' out before somebody'd see him comin'... leavin' no trace 'cept the lingerin' of his eerie, loon-like cackle. No one was really sure who he was or who he worked for, but when word got out someone needed his services, the Smokin' Loon just appeared on their doorstep, like outta thin air or somethin'."

Awesome! That's what it says on the bottle. 

It's what we're drinking right now.

It's a very good wine. Great color. Great scent. Fast legs. Opens great. 

60?

 This is what 60 looks like? Michael B. can put his "60" on me any time!

 

Hello 2014 !!

January 1, 2014

 

The first breakfast of 2014.

 

Carbs, carbs, carbs. Don't worry I worked it off later...

By doing everything Anderson Cooper told Kathy not to do...

 

And snowballing water with a couple of frogs...

 

You should have seen the dirty looks I got from people when I took this picture.

Geez Glendale, like I was disturbing the frogs in their natural habitat? 

 And then I took a bunch of selfies....

 

Selfie...

 

Selfie...

 

 

Selfie and Ginger Pussy cat hair sweater...

 

 

And wine.

 

 

This is an amazing wine. It's called Wild Horse Unbridled. It's a Pinot Noir, my favorite kind of wine. It doesn't need an aerator, it opens up quickly in a decanter.

 

A nice boy shared it with me. ;)  

 

Anyway,

 

So later on,

 

I'm telling friends about the Wild Horse we drank, which lead to a horrible group rendition of Goodbye Horses, by Q. Lazzarus, as was sung by the character Buffalo Bill in The Silence Of The Lambs, where Buffalo Bill "tucks" his junk between his legs and does the skin-dance - as you can see here 3.20 into the youtube clip.   

 

Not to be confused with Jay and Silent Bob, although Jay's rendition is rather impressive! "Goodbye Horses!"

 

The conversation then went to violence, killers, serial killers, how the media sensationalizes murderers and serial killers, how movies portray serial killers, women, crazy women, Snapped, and lastly my blog An original scene - kicked in the balls which required an explanation from the men in the group why I said women are generally more methodical killers than men. Wait did I even say that? I don't believe I said that. Like I was insulting man's ability to methodically kill? No guys, there is no "win" here. No one gets a toaster! Stop it!

 

But,

 

I then further explained that,

 

Take for example The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, the American remake, not the Swedish original because even I don't like reading subtitles if I don't have to. Lisbeth Salander's character gets assaulted in the movie by Nils Bjurman, and when Nils Bjurman lets Lisbeth go, does Lisbeth do anything (right then and there) to Nils, like pull his hair, scratch his eyes out, or anything, no. She instead goes home quietly and bathes, grieves, and mourns. However, Libeth does return rather quickly and ultimately seeks revenge by subduing Nils and then tattooing "I am a rapist pig" on the entirety of Nil's chest and stomach. And even though the assault scene was ugly and brutal, it was also Hollywood-butchered for shock value while trying to still embed Hollywood-cares public service announcement about condoms (sorry David Fincher, but if you're going to make a scene like that you just have to get your hands dirty) - but I used that scene nonetheless as another example of how women are less reactionary and more methodical when dealing with their anger. 

 

To which my friends said,

 

"Sorry hon we never saw The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo."

 

Followed by 10 seconds of silence. 

 

What??

 

What??

 

What??

 

How do we even know each other?! But it has Daniel Craig, in it! 

 

Anyway,

 

Then we kissed and hugged,

 

And that was New Year's.