"Singles Awareness Day:" The Day After
Another February 14th has come and gone. On Valentine's Day, traditionally, people express their feelings for one another, exchange gifts with lovers or maybe even do something as boneheaded as revealing a secret crush or worse yet, proposing marriage. But since Cupid has been Public Enemy Number One 'round these parts for the better part of three years I wouldn't hold my breath looking for any chocolate candies or pretty flowers anywhere near me anytime soon. In lieu of that fact, I proudly present my three fantasy valentines. In a perfect world, they would've been with me yesterday and I would have showered them with...well, something.
Anna Nicole Smith (Nov 28, 1967 - Feb 8, 2007)
With a life as spectacularly strange as hers, is it any wonder it ended in an equally spectacular and strange fashion? Sure, it seemed premature at only 39 years of age, but it was certainly a lot less of a surprise than it should have been for anyone truly paying attention. People have had their fun at her expense for years now but I prefer to remember the early days when a full-figured Playmate named Vickie Smith got me hooked on Playboy magazine and kick-started an addiction, nay, an infatuation that wouldn't subside until nearly a decade later.
I was fan. A big one. I stopped following Anna Nicole's exploits after a certain point, however; the weight gain, the obvious money-motivated marriage to that octagenarian that passed away just thirteen months after their wedding, the E! reality show, etc. Somewhere between her being a Guess model and then reemerging as one for Lane Bryant I guess she lost me. That's not the Anna I fell in love with and not the one I choose to remember. I prefer to happily recall the photos of Anna dolled up like her idols and the women she slightly resembled like Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield. Sadly, life wasn't as good to her as her images were to me over the years and her son passed away from an accidental drug overdose just three short days after she gave birth to a baby girl. Who can blame her for being medicated towards the end? Regardless of what you may think of her, there's no denying she was a very special person. So special in fact that even in death she continues to cause controversy, much like her heroes before her, as men are coming out of the woodwork claiming to be her 5-month old daughter's father (and thus entitling themselves to the late widow's fortune). Maybe I should toss my hat in the ring, too. It can't hurt and I can't be any less legit than the other leeches suddenly surfacing.
Lisa Nowak
By now you've no doubt heard of Lisa Nowak. Lisa takes the concept of love very, very seriously. Deathly serious. Any woman so determined, so single-minded in her purpose that she would drive 900 miles cross country wearing an adult diaper so she wouldn't have to stop to even use the bathroom (yay, astronaut training put to practical albeit deranged use!) to confront her romantic rival is A-Ok in my book, playa. But on a serious note, if you want any more proof that we're in the Last Days, take a look at the people who have managed to make it into our once-prestigious space program. An astronaut, at least according to that movie I was forced to watch in the sixth grade "The Right Stuff", was once considered the cream of the crop, the best of the best; miraculous military minds and graduates of all the finest academies and institutions of higher learning this great country had to offer. They were physically fit and brave beyond belief with IQs that rival the world's top scientists. Nowadays, they're dressing in wigs and trenchcoats and travelling with bad intentions with a steel mallet, a BB gun, a four-inch folding knife, pepper spray, several feet of rubber tubing and garbage bags riding shotgun. I imagine this is NOT what President Eisenhower intended.
Of course, Nowak contends she only wanted to "talk" to her friend. Riiiight. If anything, when I heard the news I knew Nowak wasn't black. A sista would've had her girlfriends and her crazy cousin with her and would've been perfectly content to slash a nigga's tires, key the shit out of his custom paint job or put a cinderblock through his windshield and call it a day. Apparently, Nowak took one "spacewalk" too many and never really came back.
Elle Cee
Anyone watching porn trends over the past two years has noticed a tremendous upswing in the proliferation of "mature" women titles. MILFs is the popular term. What at one time was a small niche has become a full-blown genre and the bigger, better production companies are starting to cash in on the latest craze just like they did a few years ago when the "barely legal" thing was all the rage. At 30 years old, I don't even consider these women "older"; the vast majority of these MILFS are roughly the same age as myself. At the very least, there's less guilt when I "self-manipulate" watching a "newbie" like hot and busty brunette Elle Cee. I first caught Elle on Naughty America's "My Friend's Hot Mom" and "Diary of MILF" websites around May of last year and while she was infinitley sexy and possessed the very look I'm such a well-known sucker for, she was still a bit too uptight and reserved on-camera for my taste. Actually, she was a cold fish; as dead a fuck as anyone I've ever seen. Fast-forward to late October and the Mr. Pete-directed Momma Knows Best (Red Light District). Elle opens up like never before with Mark Wood and raises my eyebrow once again, showing flashes of potential brilliance and a bit of naughty personality. To my surprise, the freak hiding inside Elle becomes fully unleashed by the time I reach Rodney Moore's MILF & Honey 2 (Exquisite) where Ms. Cee shares the cover with another favorite, 19-year old Krystal Jordan. Visibly relaxed and exhibiting newfound confidence, (and she even gets to do an impressive bit of acting in the setup) Elle tears the house down and wrecks shop on Jack Venice and Trent Soluri, dirty-talking her way through the entire thing, completely at home and in her element. HFGO, as me and my friends would say. Thank the Lord. For a minute there I was afraid she'd be another in a long line of buxom and dark-haired disappointments I've had over the years (I'm looking at YOU, Mason Storm!). Instead, Elle Cee has officially arrived.
Anna Nicole Smith (Nov 28, 1967 - Feb 8, 2007)
With a life as spectacularly strange as hers, is it any wonder it ended in an equally spectacular and strange fashion? Sure, it seemed premature at only 39 years of age, but it was certainly a lot less of a surprise than it should have been for anyone truly paying attention. People have had their fun at her expense for years now but I prefer to remember the early days when a full-figured Playmate named Vickie Smith got me hooked on Playboy magazine and kick-started an addiction, nay, an infatuation that wouldn't subside until nearly a decade later.
I was fan. A big one. I stopped following Anna Nicole's exploits after a certain point, however; the weight gain, the obvious money-motivated marriage to that octagenarian that passed away just thirteen months after their wedding, the E! reality show, etc. Somewhere between her being a Guess model and then reemerging as one for Lane Bryant I guess she lost me. That's not the Anna I fell in love with and not the one I choose to remember. I prefer to happily recall the photos of Anna dolled up like her idols and the women she slightly resembled like Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield. Sadly, life wasn't as good to her as her images were to me over the years and her son passed away from an accidental drug overdose just three short days after she gave birth to a baby girl. Who can blame her for being medicated towards the end? Regardless of what you may think of her, there's no denying she was a very special person. So special in fact that even in death she continues to cause controversy, much like her heroes before her, as men are coming out of the woodwork claiming to be her 5-month old daughter's father (and thus entitling themselves to the late widow's fortune). Maybe I should toss my hat in the ring, too. It can't hurt and I can't be any less legit than the other leeches suddenly surfacing.
Lisa Nowak
By now you've no doubt heard of Lisa Nowak. Lisa takes the concept of love very, very seriously. Deathly serious. Any woman so determined, so single-minded in her purpose that she would drive 900 miles cross country wearing an adult diaper so she wouldn't have to stop to even use the bathroom (yay, astronaut training put to practical albeit deranged use!) to confront her romantic rival is A-Ok in my book, playa. But on a serious note, if you want any more proof that we're in the Last Days, take a look at the people who have managed to make it into our once-prestigious space program. An astronaut, at least according to that movie I was forced to watch in the sixth grade "The Right Stuff", was once considered the cream of the crop, the best of the best; miraculous military minds and graduates of all the finest academies and institutions of higher learning this great country had to offer. They were physically fit and brave beyond belief with IQs that rival the world's top scientists. Nowadays, they're dressing in wigs and trenchcoats and travelling with bad intentions with a steel mallet, a BB gun, a four-inch folding knife, pepper spray, several feet of rubber tubing and garbage bags riding shotgun. I imagine this is NOT what President Eisenhower intended.
Of course, Nowak contends she only wanted to "talk" to her friend. Riiiight. If anything, when I heard the news I knew Nowak wasn't black. A sista would've had her girlfriends and her crazy cousin with her and would've been perfectly content to slash a nigga's tires, key the shit out of his custom paint job or put a cinderblock through his windshield and call it a day. Apparently, Nowak took one "spacewalk" too many and never really came back.
Elle Cee
Anyone watching porn trends over the past two years has noticed a tremendous upswing in the proliferation of "mature" women titles. MILFs is the popular term. What at one time was a small niche has become a full-blown genre and the bigger, better production companies are starting to cash in on the latest craze just like they did a few years ago when the "barely legal" thing was all the rage. At 30 years old, I don't even consider these women "older"; the vast majority of these MILFS are roughly the same age as myself. At the very least, there's less guilt when I "self-manipulate" watching a "newbie" like hot and busty brunette Elle Cee. I first caught Elle on Naughty America's "My Friend's Hot Mom" and "Diary of MILF" websites around May of last year and while she was infinitley sexy and possessed the very look I'm such a well-known sucker for, she was still a bit too uptight and reserved on-camera for my taste. Actually, she was a cold fish; as dead a fuck as anyone I've ever seen. Fast-forward to late October and the Mr. Pete-directed Momma Knows Best (Red Light District). Elle opens up like never before with Mark Wood and raises my eyebrow once again, showing flashes of potential brilliance and a bit of naughty personality. To my surprise, the freak hiding inside Elle becomes fully unleashed by the time I reach Rodney Moore's MILF & Honey 2 (Exquisite) where Ms. Cee shares the cover with another favorite, 19-year old Krystal Jordan. Visibly relaxed and exhibiting newfound confidence, (and she even gets to do an impressive bit of acting in the setup) Elle tears the house down and wrecks shop on Jack Venice and Trent Soluri, dirty-talking her way through the entire thing, completely at home and in her element. HFGO, as me and my friends would say. Thank the Lord. For a minute there I was afraid she'd be another in a long line of buxom and dark-haired disappointments I've had over the years (I'm looking at YOU, Mason Storm!). Instead, Elle Cee has officially arrived.
