It never ceases to amaze me in watching that show how they could put some of the most beautiful men I have ever seen in some of the worst costumes I have ever seen. In the episode I watched yesterday, Quentin was wearing a country/western style suit with a modern art geometric tie . . . how that even remotely “matches” is beyond me. Of course it was 1970 and we do have to factor that in. I laughed riotously every time Michael Stroka showed up in that pimp coat. I think he has the most beautiful, amazing eyes I have ever seen—sans or avec Huggy Bear coat.
On other topics, I am very excited that we are supposed to have some days this week in the 80s. Fucking hell, it is about damn time. In the grand scheme of things, we had some warm weather back in November so it’s not like the winter lasted for a long, long time. It seemed long because once it arrived, it was die hard with a vengeance. We are still getting mornings in the 30s. So if you turn the heat down during the day and forget to turn it up at night, you will freeze. I’m not saying it needs to be 100 outside but at least warm enough overnight not to still need the furnace.
I’m also trying to think up a suitable name for my raven. Most mornings anymore he’s around. I was gifted with some stale-ass caramel corn that I wouldn’t eat even if it wasn’t stale so that went outside for the raven to eat. (I figured if he liked the stale graham crackers, he’d like the stale caramel corn.) Ya know, if I assume it’s actually a girl, I could get away with calling her Angelique. I think I’ll do that. It’s too perfect—a big, intimidating raven named Angelique. And if you try to mess with either one of us, she will put a hex on you. She will find a voodoo doll or stare into a fire or try to use hypnosis, etc., etc. Although my Angelique could easily be bribed out of such witchery by sweets, apparently. That’s a good word to the wise.
