Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
*sob* Not one of you has mentioned my award!
You’d think winning People’s Sexiest Man Alive award would do something for my prospects, wouldn’t you? But bam‘s only taking calls from Scott Speedman, and I overheard Miss Snark hollering, “If it ain’t Clooney, I’m not here!” Or maybe that was Sheila . . . the women are all blurring together right about now.
No. What do I get? A bunch of teeny-boppers screaming at me while I’m trying to shop for groceries. (Overheard in Produce: “Doug, what do you think of these musk melons?”) All the attention baffled me until I saw the cover of People. Then I was like, “Girls, girls, I’m a happily married man, although if you truly value my opinion of fruit, I am willing to check for ripeness.”
Fame has its downside, as I am rapidly discovering. Rufus in Hardware pounded my face a few times, saying, “I’m gonna do something about the alive part.” Seems he came in second place and was none too happy about it. William from Home and Garden came to my rescue, but as he helped me to my feet he used a most unusual handhold.
Now that I am safely home, I find myself waxing philosophical about my award. How can any one man be THE sexiest man alive? Don’t we each embody the masculine ideal in our own peculiar ways? And is it really fair for People to subject me to such intense public attention, just so they can sell a few more magazines?
I’m also wondering whether this will alter my personal life. Karen seems to be treating me no different than usual; maybe she doesn’t know yet. I left a copy on her pillow, just in case.
D.
Hey Doug – I voted for you. 😉
Uh, congrat… uh…
Sorry, Doug. Words fail even the most verbose of us.
I’m so proud to know you. Sort of.
For sure I’m confident you’ll do a wonderful job being an international sex symbol.
Just stay away that sore loser McConaughey. He’ll do you worse than the hardware store guys.
yah, jpork? you seen that avatar of his? talk about failing words.
Um…yeah. Congrats, and stuff. Now you can be mobbed in strip malls and preyed upon by evil-eyed “talent managers” before your inevitable slide into the merry-go-round of tabloid-covered arrests and rehab culminating in a spot on Hollywood Squares, just like the honorable celebrities before you.
*sigh* Makes the eyes go moist, doesn’t it?
*wicked grin* You might also want to stay away from Hugh Jackman. I hear he’s a sore loser too, and you really don’t want a guy who sings “Oklahoma!” punching you. Either he’s a total he-bot or he’s a girly boy you’ll have to put in the hospital, and both of those might mar your good looks temporarily.
And we wouldn’t want that.
Ooh…um…wow…
Congrats.
Yes, that’s what I want to say. Congrats. Sincere ones. Really.
Okay. Time for me to skedaddle because I simply can’t bear gazing upon your powerfully machismo visage for more than a moment or two without splintering into pulsing, quaking shards of orgasmic ecstasy.
Hmm. From her barely contained vitriol, sounds like I out-competed Lilith’s husband.
Don’t worry. The way I’m gaining weight, there’s little chance I’ll pick this up two years running.
Kate: McConawho?
Daisy, funny you should say “orgasmic”. My sister had a similar reaction to my post on rubber stamps — which qualifies, I think, as too much information.
I’m just pleased to know I’m bringing a bit more happiness into the world.
You might also want to stay away from Hugh Jackman.
Hugh Jackman…slurp.
I’m sorry, what were we talking about?
“Barely contained vitriol”? I never contain my vitriol. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of the danger of eventual Hollywood Squaredom, that’s all. *wink*
Besides, the way my husband behaved in the swimsuit competition, he deserved to place fourth.
I know, Lilith. That thong he wore . . . whoa. Too much information for my eyes.