Of late I have been reading and listening to people going on and on about whether George Clooney should be a UN Messenger of Peace. Why not? To be honest I didn't know much about the prejudice, drought, oppression and genocide in Darfur before George Clooney started talking about it. He has created a lot of awareness. When I read stuff about George Clooney and whether he is the right person to promote the UN and Peace, several thoughts occur to me. Yes, he is an actor – a Hollywood star – but I don’t see how that makes the man any less credible than anyone else. It’s almost like a reverse prejudice. Instead of being perceived as ugly and undesirable and therefore unsuitable for whatever, people wonder why this attractive man is going to the ugliness of Darfur. What is he to gain from it? An ‘in’ into politics? Is he trying to make himself look even better than he does? Why be so suspicious? The man wants to help. And everyone should be seen as someone who can promote peace. I admire people who go to the ends of the Earth to help those suffering what we cannot possibly imagine. I don’t care if he’s a movie star or the boy next door, if he is prepared to do something then I cannot see how we can question his credibility. I think some parts of society are too ‘star-struck’ and they can only see actors being a certain way - open to question and ridicule if they step outside the box. We have to get a global grip.
Want to learn more about Darfur? http://www.savedarfur.org/content - this is only one of the many sites on the internet. When you read it you realize how lucky you are.
Okay – that gets me on another track with the whole celebrity/perception thing. Is it just me or are you sick of hearing about who’s in rehab or having a mental breakdown in celebrity-dom? How is this news? The bottom line is these celebrities are still just people and they have the same problems that everyone else does except they are in the public eye. And yes, many times, it’s their choice to be in the public eye – but addictions, breakdowns and mental illness are nothing to be joking about. I don’t know if X is having a mental breakdown and frankly it’s not my business. Having lived with a family member who had bi-polar disorder, I know only too well the amazingly hard, emotional cost of mental illness. We will never know why people do what they do or how they feel about stuff or why they make the fatal decisions they make. We can never be in their mind – be they a celebrity or not. And let’s face it haven’t we all got enough demons of our own before we start judging or poking fun at someone else’s? Mental illness and addiction is not a joke and I point blank refuse to get caught up in the whole sensationalist crap.
Changing the topic completely…Ever wonder about ants? I find them fascinating. No, I don’t have an ant farm but I do have a lot of nests outside in the grass. They interest me as they are such the survivors and they never give up. Every time I mow the lawn I knock their ant houses down cutting the grass. The next day they are back at building them up. A freak rain storm flattens them and the next day, the ants are working at reconstruction. Birds peck at their nets trying to eat them, the nests get knocked down but back up they go again. That’s perseverance against the odds. Someone suggested I poison them as they ruin the look of the lawn. I’m not going to do that as how something looks does not worry me and how could I kill those little buggers when they have worked so hard? They’ll die eventually but not at my hand. I want to see if they start building a skyscraper or maybe a theme park next.
I believe angels would weep with joy, all wars would stop and peace would reign if everyone went out and got a packet of
Tim Tam Crush ( particularly mocha hazelnut) as they would be caught up in an orgasmic rush that
other petty irritations would be cease to exist. These biscuits are better than sex. I suspect they won’t be out for long – just like the alcohol flavoured ones hit the market and disappeared when everyone was hooked. Speaking of alcohol, a recent survey in Queensland, my home state and paradise on Earth, showed that banana benders, as we are known, would prefer to spend less money on petrol (gas) but would not cut spending money on alcohol. See? You have to have your priorities right and you can’t drink and drive anyway.
A moment from - Unbreakable – warning - very adult excerpt
“You’re going to film this too?” Bloody hell was she going to end up on the internet like some sad-assed middle-aged wanna-be suburban porn star? “Two cameras?”
“I want to catch every moment.” Dash adjusted the camera tripods to make sure the angle was right on each. “This is for our exclusive use, darlin’. I want us to look back on this when we are old and gray.” He switched the cameras on.
“I’m already going gray and this is just one week of my life.” He made it sounded like a long term commitment.
“Is it India?” Dash sat down beside her on the bed and trailed his hand down her body. “You’re very beautiful and infinitely fuckable.”
“Well fuck me then and get this over and done with.”
Dash chuckled and reached into the drawer he pulled the satin ties from.
“You don’t want a quick shag and neither do I.”
Yeah, actually I do.
India looked at what he held in his hand. It was a silver bullet and not the kind used to kill werewolves. He was going to put that in her and even if she could stop him she knew at that moment she wouldn’t.
“How badly do you need to come, darlin’?” Dash’s hands went down to her pussy. One stroked between the curves softly while the other held the bullet. “You’re so deliciously wet.” He leaned forward and licked her clit. He smiled as India shrieked. “Did you like that?”
“Yes, oh God yes,” India writhed beneath his hand.
“Do you want me inside you?” Dash blew softly against the wet pink flesh.
India’s toes curled at the sensation.
“Yes, I need you now.” She did not care how needy she sounded. She just wanted Dash inside her.
“Maybe later,” he said as his fingers slid the bullet inside her and turned it on.
India closed her eyes as the vibrations started slowly. If he was trying to kill her, this was certainly the way she wanted to go.
“Open your eyes India,” Dash growled in command. “You need to see and know at all times what I am doing to you.” He ramped up the speed of the bullet.
“Oh God,” India moaned as a wild thrill of sensation shot through her body. She was so close to coming.
“Do you want to come?” Dash leaned forward and licked her clit again.
“Yes.” As he slowly tongued her she whimpered.
“Will you do anything I ask?” Dash looked up into her eyes.
“Anything.” India was so close to the edge of an orgasm that she would agree to whatever he wanted.
“Good to know.” Dash sat up and switched off the bullet’s controls.
“No, don’t stop now.” The bullet had stilled and yet India’s body was still teetering on the edge.
“I need a sandwich.” Dash stood up and walked away from the bed.
“You what?” she yelled at his back as he left the room.
Hmm…wonder what sort of sanger (sandwich) he had?
Anny has an intriguing excerpt on www.annycook.com.au and Kelly is discussing the many uses of lint on www.kkirch.blogspot.com. or maybe not...
www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?
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