The second pot of tea today is on the brew. I am here alone, the cerebral sounds of Sean Lennon's Friendly Fire album are floating wistfully out of the full-sized Bose (which we have named Roger), and I'm polishing off the last of the first pot of tea in my favorite British mug... it's got the Union Jack on the inside of the cup, with a beefeater, and a Queen's guard, and.... well, anyway.
All of this is happening, and I'm planning out this post in my head, still wondering how it's going to work itself out.
We'll do the best we can (and by we, you all know it's just me and my multiple personalities).
Yesterday, my sister and I were talking about The IT Crowd (season four is on IFC right NOW! Go set up your DVRs!).
She said to me, "The guy that plays Roy is cute, but he's not from Britain."
I said, "You're right, he's from Ireland."
She said, "Guys from Britain are homely."
Well, that was the gist of it, anyway... I'm sure we did a lot of awkward word-kerfuffling, which I have taken the liberty of editing out to make the two of us sound a little bit smarter.
I have been thinking about that little telephone chat in the back of my mind ever since. It's been boiling there, like that pot you were going to cook the macaroni and cheese in, but then got distracted by MyLifeIsAverage, and all the water boiled itself out. Just like that.
I'm not sure of the exact origin of her opinion...
Oh, well, if you're taking this train of thought in THAT direction...
That being said, I've just got one thing to ask her: Did you ever see the 1995 version of Pride and Prejudice, darling sister?
Some Bridget Jones fan you are!
Or, more to the point (since we can never do ANYTHING on this slice of the Internet without him)...
You bet he can rock polyester trousers, a sweater vest, and a sateen jacket all at once. You bet.
I told my mother about the conversation, and she suggested I send my sister a list of all the good lookin' Brit Boys. I wondered, "Why in monkey hell did I not think of that myself?", only to realize that beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder. It wouldn't matter if I sent her the best of the best, because that's my own opinion. So, that was out.
This, in turn, reminded me of something that my loverly sister posted on Facebook about a year or so ago (elephant's memory, dear children).
Her Top Five Celebrity Crushes (I love doing these kinds of lists, it makes me feel like Rob Gordon).
I remembered a couple of them, but not all five, so, naturally, I went through all of her Facebook posts to find it... just to see if any Limeys made her list.
PAYDIRT!
Drum roll, please...
Thank you.
IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:
Jensen Ackles, AKA Petie Go Round from Sundance (if you have not idea what I'm talking about, that's OK, neither do I)...
Nathan Fillion...
(What sort of television does she watch at night?)
Simon Baker...
(I had to look him up, as I've no idea who he is.)
Chris O'Dowd (Roy, in IT Crowd-land)...
And... WAIT! STOP THE PRESSES!
Colin Firth...
I guess she DID see Pride and Prejudice.
Point? Blanket statements suck.
It got me to thinking about my own list, which you shan't be seeing. If you don't have a sibling, you may not realize that this is the kind of information that we use against each other (if you say "Exhibit A", she shall have words). It just is. It isn't right, but life's tough, get a helmet.
YES! It's that!
As the youngest kid, with a very large age gap between my older sister and I, these are lessons you learn so as to prevent injury. Plain, simple fact... it's a self-defense mechanism. I still don't speak of such things, because I am positive that they will come back to bite my arse... hard.
I shall, however, say that, as I was compiling my own list, I found that I had exactly the opposite problem from my sister. Go figure. The beefeater and the guard on my mug are quite homely, though, so I'll give her that one.
So, respectfully, my darling sister, I have to say...
Want confirmation? Ask a Spice Girl.
That's OK... at least the Weatherman didn't make either of our lists (2:29 time stamp).
(You'll notice that Gia dropped out of the competition right before the Weatherman's turn. I do not think this was a coincidence.)
You know you're happy someone got voted off a stupid reality show when you pause their limo-ride-of-shame footage to do an elaborate happy dance.
This may or may not have happened Monday night.
AND THAT'S WHY I DON'T LIKE THE WEATHERMAN!
Post Script -
I have my mother proof read everything. From blog posts to college assignments, she's always there to make sure that whatever I say makes sense to you "normal" folk out there.
When she got to the bit in this post where Bobby-Bob-Bob does his Cricket Dance, she said, "You need to add a line that says 'THAT'S EXACTLY THE DANCE I DID!'"
She then proceeded to imitate the dance in her own fashion.
I love her.
