Clothes, Cars, And Casual Sex

Two out of those three are referenced in today’s blog entry. You can stop reading now if you only want to read about casual sex.

Dressing By The Numbers
I am a bad dresser. It’s not that my fashion sense is skewed (although that could be another reason for my inability to attract women), but rather this is the time of year that I don’t know how to dress.

Will it be cold? Do I need a jacket? What about tonight? Are shorts going to be alright, or should I wear jeans? What about sleeves? Short or long? Who. The. Fuck. Knows?

I need Garanimals for weather, Weathanimals?

You know how you buy a sleeping bag, three-season or four? That’s how I want my clothing to be labelled.

“This shirt will keep Paulie comfortable in temperatures between 60 and 75 inclusive. Any temperature below 60, it should be paired with this jacket (which looks smashing with any shirt in Color Categories 4, 5, and 6) which is good down to 40 degrees.”

This weekend the weatherman is predicting that a cold front will pass through Atlanta. I will be attending the Paste Rock And Reel Festival. I guess I’ll be easily identified a they guy shivering from being underdressed, sweating from being overdressed, or both.

The Robinsons
I am telling you that I love the BBC’s show The Robinsons. In last week’s episode Ed (Martin Freeman) attempts to get back into the dating scene. He tries everything, single’s bars, online dating, consulting a womanizing cousin, and going out with someone he knew from childhood. Hmmm, why does this plot sound sooo familiar? I wonder…

Run Like I’ve Never Run Before
That would be the description of my running last night, like I’ve never run before. I would have beaten that old woman with the walker back into George’s, but I am too polite a gentleman and believe that woman should always enter first.

While You’re Down There, Check The Oil Too
The Jackmobile is at the auto-vet today. It’s time for his 45,000 mile checkup. Eventhough I am still trying to be a loyal Marta commuter I have to keep the old auto in tip-top shape for those days when Marta stumbles (see also yesterday’s blog entry).

With two exceptions I really like my car. First, could someone tell me why everything on the dashboard illuminates at night, except for the clock? When I drive at night I have no idea what time it is until I drive under a street lamp and can get a quick glimpse at the time. This is frustrating! The second annoyance is my trunk. Which rocket scientist at Honda thought that it was ok to allow the trunk lid to drip into the trunk cavity when you open it in the rain? Seriously, this is how the trunk is designed! The two bottom corners of the trunk drip straight into the trunk cavity when it is opened. Me, the owner, must take special care not to put anything of value in those two spots when it rains, else whatever is there will be ruined. Umm, this is what the kids call “effen stupid.”

Sadly today’s visit is going to cost me about $200. I know, that’s a lot cheaper than buying a new car, but that’s $50 less than one of these…

or half the price of one of these…

Yes, I am still a child. That’s what being forty, never married, and no children begets.

And now for some ideas stolen from LiveJournal…
Current Mood – except for that running thing, not bad
Current Music – Sirius Satellite Radio, Channel 26 playing Ween — “Gabrielle”
Website Of The Day – Here’s an article that I will read once this entry is posted, 16 Ways to Drive Traffic to Your Blog. Btw- How did you get here?

If you ever want a quick glance of the sites I’ve picked for my Websites Of The Day, you can check them out on, my user name is InsideThePerimeter (go figure), and they are all tagged as “blogged.”

Yesterday’s Exercise (b)Log – “running” approximately for 50 minutes

Paulie [eatl/ga]

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2 Responses to Clothes, Cars, And Casual Sex

  1. shoobie says:

    paulie yesterday was a three-fer, your cache is just fine the way it is.

  2. katlanta says:

    I was hoping to have some casual sex. Just kidding.

    They do have Garanimals for grownups; it’s called the Gap. At least that’s what we called the Gap in college.

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