A bit down the page, you’ll see this post. In it, I describe, well, this:

Here’s a closer view of “Calvin”

I happened to see it again the other day and snapped a photo.

You can’t make this stuff up, people.

I went to CVS last night to pick up some cock lotion, or, as my dad calls it, PeterCetera. A lady was already speaking to the pharmacist when I arrived. I queued up behind her with ample distance between us, giving her a pharmacy-appropriate privacy zone. (I don’t want anyone listening in on my cock lotion order, so why would I crowd her?) It so happens that the privacy zone caused me to stand about ten feet into an aisle–the “Family Planning” aisle, actually.

I stood there, absent-mindedly gazing at the rubbers and the gels and the lubes and the creams while the lady finished her business. It barely registered I was looking at the stuff, in fact, until the lady had finished her business and turned around to walk out. The route she chose was between me and the sex goodies. She quickly glanced at the goodies, then at me, then slouched down and slunk past with this awkward half-smile/half scowl that seemed to say “I am visibly uncomfortable due to my intrusion on your selection of items designed specifically for sexual intercourse. Don’t get any ideas.” I snapped out of my stupor long enough to look at her slinking past, then at the goodies, then to think “Hey! This lady thinks I’m browsing for sex items! And I’ve been here the entire time she was at the counter yakking it up with the pharmacist! She thinks I’m putting a lot of thought into this!” I wanted to yell “But I…I was just…I needed to…” but I stuttered in my brain just like I would have had I spoken out loud.

When the pharmacist asked if he could help me, I explained to him that I was picking up a prescription. He told me I was in the wrong line–that prescription pickup was at the other end of the counter.

Stupid PeterCetera.

Nice.

Working so many late nights lately, I’ve been listening to a lot of music. I’ve got roughly thirty gigs of music on my machine at work–a lot of it completely new to me when it comes up on iTunes. Last night, I was in the mood for some Tubes. When “Don’t Touch Me There” came up, I was reminded how much I love it. It’s a spot-on, campy goof on a Phil Spector-produced paean to teenage leather and lust. Co-written by Jane Dornacker (pictured above), “DTMT” appeared on The Tubes’ 1976 album Young & Rich. Give it a listen.

Download The Tubes - Don’t Touch Me There

Singer Re Styles saying “Uh-huh.” after Fee Waybill asks “When I reach for your waist?”? Hot.

It is never actually explained where “there” is. The listener is left to ponder the question.

Here’s a pretty awful live version:

Sadly, Dornacker’s real-life story ends tragically.

In the comments section of the last post, Sluggo said “Roundisgettinglaidagain” to which I say “Roundwishes.”

Sluggo, your comment is innacurate in two ways: A.) It suggests that I am “gettinglaid,” which I am not and B.) it speculates that I am “gettinglaidagain,” which suggests that I’ve been laid recently. Now, were I to get laid, I would technically be getting laid “again” as I have, in fact, gotten laid in the past. But, let’s not get bogged down in semantics.

How have you motherhunchers been, anyway? I’ve missed you guys! Me? Sure, I might have put on a few over the holidays. Yeah, yeah, I let the beard grow in. You look good! I don’t remember that sweater. Really? When? No kidding! That’s great. Glad to hear it. Oh, Lord, I haven’t seen that guy in forever. What’s he up to? No shit? Wow. No, no, good to see you, too! Let’s get together soon! It’s been too long! I know we always say that, but this time I mean it!

So, yeah. Between Thanksgiving and, well, now, there are all of those holidays, all of those holiday get-togethers, and damn near every one of my friends’ birthdays. That’s a lot of running around and gift buying and whatnot. This is probably what most people call “life.” Not me, Jack. I’m not used to all of this doing (and reeing. <–There’s a joke for about three people.)

On top of all of that, my editor insisted that the new Web site for work be launched before Christmas, so I’ve been putting in a ton of hours working on that. Or maybe I’ve been putting in a ton of hours thinking and worrying about working on that. It’s all a blur, man.