To all the “cougars” out there, shame on you for not calling yourselves “Thundercats” shame on you.
Credit to sammy morris@themorris23 from twitter
To all the “cougars” out there, shame on you for not calling yourselves “Thundercats” shame on you.
Credit to sammy morris@themorris23 from twitter
September 26, 1964 – September 4, 1967 That was the time span when Gilligan’s Island first aired in monchromatic Black and White Film all the way to when it finally ended 98 episodes later in full on color for the last two years of its run on television…
Now I wasn’t around back then when the final episodes aired but I might have been percolating down the line in a few years later between the eyes of my mother and father….(enough with thaat thank you…)
I only saw this program in reruns much like a lot of shows around the time as I was growing up as a youngin’.
What got me about this show…and believe me I noticed, was it’s overt sexualism. I don’t think there was an episode where there was not flirting going on.
I only bring this up is because often in the past I had been accused by my wife of flirting too much with the opposite sex….at first I denied it saying you must be crazy…I’m not a flirt…I’m just friendly…and a sensitive guy. (which I am btw…and sincere)
Then as I got older I came to be more self aware of how I act with the opposite sex. And she was right, I am very flirtatious…but where did this fliratiousness come from? How did it originate…was it something innate in my DNA makeup…was I born this way?
I analyzed my childhood growing up, thinking back to my very first kiss… to you know….you knoooow…. the deed we all (well almost all) as teenagers eventually get to experience… its sex …okay I said it sex…you happy? Anyways moving on…
I think I have, we shall say, always had an appreciation for the opposite sex from the time my brain kicked on and I started thinking for myself (ya know the stage where you can feed and go to the bathroom without any assistance…some guys my age now still need assistance there)
I found myself rememembering back to when I was about three years old in daycare liking that little girl with the big brown eyes and the short bob haircut who had a pretty smile. I remember smiling whenever she smiled…I recognized her prettiness when I was three! I just had to be around her…snack time, doing a puzzle, arts & craft…, just in case she looked my way…I was there to smile back.
Then came the neighbor girls when I was about six or seven, they would play these silly games of you can’t catch me….well I was a fast runner and I usually did…one time or two I was rewarded with a kiss behind the garage.
The thing is, I wasn’t a flirt just yet. I never made any overtures of charming platitudes thrown their way to illicit a response or gave them one of my cookies from my lunch. It wasn’t until probably in fifth or sixth grade that I felt that there was something about these things called girls…hmmm they were so different than guys who were friends…they had these big eyes, glorious smiles, and now they started to smell good…and something was growing on them…what were those bumps all about in the front on her chest…(yes my mom had them but you do not go there as a kid)
What was this wonderous creature …called girl?
Well Gilligan’s Island pointed me in a certain direction of how to attain such beauties. As I grew older watching this show with all it’s sexual inneuedo and inferences to things best not thought on as a little kid I grew to hate Gilligan himself in certain ways…
Here were these two obviously beautiful women who constantly put him in these compromising positions, fueling his inner fires and he fought against it or was completely blind to it.
It frustrated the hell out of me!
Here you are Gilligan, you Lucky Bastard, on this deserted island where you are the youngest of four men trapped for god knows how long and you never, if you will excuse my language, tapped that ass? I thought at the tender age of probably twelve that it was his male imperative to do so..and he failed.
From then after that realization, my psyche I’m thinking, promised itself not to be such a dumb ass.
So I’m a flirt and it’s all Gilligans fault…:)
I have to thank fellow blogger over at LilyWight.com for spotlighting these beautiful what-if Fan Posters for the upcoming Star Wars Movie in the near Future. They’re Awesome!
I personally love the Millenium Falcon buried in the sand…..I would love to be part of the writers writing the plot for next three movies..OMG…I can see it now…
Two cloaked figures approach through the sand dunes to the decaying and dilapidated ship half buried deep in the drifts…
”Here is where we will find what we have long sought” says one of the figures garbed all in gray.
“Fate, you think, that the sands have shifted to reveal the prize so long sought after all these years by so many?” says the other also cloaked in gray but with bands of black running throughout.
“Perhaps, but Fate is a dour thing left to deeper men than me to sort out. Wouldn’t you agree son.?”
The man turned to him as he asked the question. ” Yes father and I hate to think what mother would do if she found us here.” he grinned to his father as he slogged up the last hill of sand to the broken dark open maw into the ship.
“I imagine her words wouldn’t be pretty, she never did like to mince words..you leave Leia to me…this old scoundrel is still pretty full of charm yet” Han said smiling under a full white beard as he leaned on his son for support as they slowly made their way deeper into the bowels of his old ship….
Why spend a fortune on advertising campaigns when you can get the fans to do it for you?
These pictures are desperate for your comments…











Shut the hell up cuz you got luck
so take it and run with it.
The suitcase I carry isn’t full
of the…
horseshoes,shamrocks,
or Maneki-neko lucky cats.
It’s got more of the broken bits
of mirrors that I have collected
over the years or the dead black
cats that have called it home…
Sure your pain is yours,
own it…I don’t care,
but don’t ever think it compares
to my level of despair.
Don’t whine and don’t bitch while
your lucky number seven sits on your
back and lifts you up while my
thirteen has been nothing but mean
to me, bringing me down to depths
that hell can’t even see.
I have my magpie of sorrow
who talks to me often…he thinks
it a joke to lead to me believing
that the world works at times.
But I do care for the lucky ones, so
don’t let him catch your eye.
Take your luck and run with it,
and maybe just maybe you won’t
end up with the same luck as me.
By Philip Wardlow 2012
Everything and anything
could have been that day,
yet I was there sitting in that place,
in that small little space,
in that time, that moment
plucked with you in
mind.
A hello, a smile, a small question
to catch my eye.
My attention never wavered…as something,
yes something…told me
there was more to this meeting,
more…
than just
the casual.
You were my Happy Accident
if I only chose
to embrace it.
by Philip Wardlow 2013
Blue Balls of a Gentleman
Never was a pain so great
as to leave a man almost
doubled over as he walked.
Such a foul wretch of a woman
she was; to taunt and to flaunt
her wares so, to sidle up alongside me,
yet hold back her ultimate
charms.
Never to help me find release
from the tension that she had
caused to exist far below.
True, I could have taken matters into my
own hands like any chaste man should have;
evacuate the cause of all my pent up
pressure and damn her back to the nine hells
where she surely belonged.
But I be not a man to take the easy course;
for I wished her to capitulate in the war
she had waged right outside my castle gate.
Cease this siege woman!
Acquiesce to the desires that I see burning
in your eyes and overcome your coolness
buried deep in your cold keep of a heart.
Grab hold of what you desperately
wish to conquer and I shall relinquish
myself to you with a flood of gratitude.
Perhaps dear lady you will grow
accustomed to my sweet taste.
By Philip Wardlow 2012
Nice little poem by Rhino Girl…of personal hopes and passion
If I had a superpower
I think I’d like to fly.
I’d bring the rhinos to the moon.
I’d plant fields of grass,
make lakes of the craters
where at night they’d all commune.
No more orphans,
huge rhino crashes
with horns taller than the trees.
Poachers out of business,
trade debate moot,
joke’s on the Chinese.
The world would think
them extinct,
another failed conservation endeavor.
While I could finally
sleep soundly at night
knowing the rhino is safe forever.
undone in spectacle
she writes
A Wheel of Time Community
Health, Reflection, and Poetry for the Journey of Life
Dating, Poetry, and More
Ignorance is bliss / truth is necessary / rust in the soul
Where writers gather
Realise your innate perfection
poetry, fiction, and musings
Poetry
Erotic Fantasies
Let Your Eyes Do The Talking...
A Place to share My Love for Painting, Design, and Pottery
Hiking with snark in the beautiful Pacific Northwest 2011 - 2013
Reviews, raves, and rants. It's all about the books we read
weird alien 👽
undone in spectacle
she writes
A Wheel of Time Community
Health, Reflection, and Poetry for the Journey of Life
Dating, Poetry, and More
Ignorance is bliss / truth is necessary / rust in the soul
Where writers gather
Realise your innate perfection
poetry, fiction, and musings
Poetry
Erotic Fantasies
Let Your Eyes Do The Talking...
A Place to share My Love for Painting, Design, and Pottery
Hiking with snark in the beautiful Pacific Northwest 2011 - 2013
Reviews, raves, and rants. It's all about the books we read
weird alien 👽