gannswhat.gifA toast. Jessie, an officemate and friend of mine, has asked me to deliver a toast at her wedding on the 15th of February. Isn’t it the maid of honor’s job to do that? I asked. We need someone… outspoken, she replied, asking if I could deliver a speech leaning more towards serious and emotional, rather than funny and entertaining. A dramedy? I asked, invoking Jolina Magdangal’s oddly phrased drama-comedy combo. Sure, she replied. Me, serious? Sure, I can do that…

A boast. 1 Corinthians 1:30-31 says, Let he who boasts, boast in the Lord. Well, Lord, I praise you, because now my hair looks spectacular. Brown in sunlight, dark brown in office light, dark at night. Couldn’t have turned out better if I had prayed for it (which I did, by the by). Now, if only I could do something about my belly and thighs…

A roast. Tomorrow’s our Lucky Table blog gathering, for those bloggersaong us who sat at this one table during the Blog Parteeh where everyone at the table won something. Not everyone can make it, unfortunately, but we’re looking forward to at least four people. Hey, it’s a lunch at Cafe D’Angelo, it’s not a sponsored blogathon. Hopefully, no one will pick on me the way they did after the last party.

Two naked men. Bloghopping has resulted in my finding that a titillated Perez Hiltonblogs about a naked Daniel Radcliffe in Equus, and a presumably exhausted diva’s coping mechanisms include talking to Jesus about the possibility of looking more like a naked Paul Rudd after all his gym work is done. (Sorry, no links, what, you think I’ma lead you to sin?)

Now, I have nothing against Harry Potter taking his clothes off, especially since Cathy apparently thinks he’s hot, and I also have nothing against ‘Mike Hannigan’ taking his clothes off, because Phoebe Buffay thinks he’s hot, but y’all should give us web visitors warning before launching those naked pics on us, yes?

Yes, my tagline reads ‘naked and sacred,’ but that doesn’t mean you’re getting those two things on my website, literally. At least, not yet. Wait until I’m 150, with pan de sal on my belly and thighs that can crack walnuts, then we’ll talk… no, not even. This website is supposed to be G, not PG-13.

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