No, Angelina darling, we're not talking about you. For once. Actually, we've had about enough of you. And your love affairs. And your tatoos and adopted children and vials of blood. And your whole stupid Hollywood thing. And, most of all, Brad. I mean, puhlease.
No, what we're talking about is actual tomatos. Grown by Dolores's Father Juan on the outskirts of Cleveland. And all we can say is: "What a tomato!"
Bonus points for those who recognize the background of this photograph.
I'm thinking red formica. I see a counter top or maybe a table top. Am I warm?
ReplyDeleteFriends, I think I have found a solution. Please see the 22nd comment under the August 11th post.
ReplyDeleteY Dolor, esos tomates me paracen muy rico. Hay mas?
Keep guessing. I don't think you're as psychic as you think.
ReplyDeleteNice tomatoes. But I don't see anyone paying them eight figures to lead in the sequel to Mr. & Mrs. Smith. Plus, I seem to recall something about a crazed ex with a gun in Hawaii when you were just out of Vassar. And I bet every one here has cut themselves with knives at some point when they having sex, so ...a little precision, please, Claudia. I can garden, too. Hollywood style. Brad and I are thinking of putting down roots. We have Maddox and Zahara to think about.
ReplyDeleteBrad was going to buy Block Island, and tear down a whole lot of buildings.
Jerry said he could make it into a movie. Like The Passion. Only this is Brad's passion for architecture, get it? But Brad could still wear a loin-cloth. We're not sure, though. With all the serial-killer activity, between Hadden Clark and that new CSI premier Jerry's working on, that the Block is the place for us.
And speaking of savage love, You Know Who is back on the island. The girl at the dump told me so. She calls him "the Rogue." Fortunately, I'll be leaving tomorrow before I can become the cliche of the aging housewife having an affair with the Irish carpenter.
ReplyDeleteIf you can interview Bush twice, travel to Russia with Al and Tipper Gore, climb Mt. Everest and end up in the sack with the head of the expedition, you can nail Dennis before you leave the island.
ReplyDeleteTo Frankie Valli's Dec. 1963(Oh,What a Night)
Oh what a day.
Just mid-summer in 2005.
What a special day to be alive.
I think my french doors may arrive.
Let's hear it for the Girl.
In my earlier comment, I meant to say "..when they were having sex.." not when they having sex. But whatever. You know what I mean. So who is this Dennis guy, anyway? Is he CSA? Could Jerry hire him to help Brad tear down some of the houses? Would he look good in a loincloth?
ReplyDeleteI know those chairs anywhere!!
ReplyDeleteChairs! That must be red vinyl! But which chairs? Where? BI? In the kitchen of your old house, maybe? Yes, that must be it.
ReplyDeleteRight?
Chairs!! Who cares about chairs??? I thought this whole thing was supposed to be about sex. Tomatoes. Vinyl. Savage love, indeed.
ReplyDeleteThe blog owner has been suspiciously silent for almost 24 hours. Either the storms blew out the internet on the Block, or she's been replacing her French doors, if you know what I mean.
Myopic psychic: Perhaps you never visited the island establishment in the day of the pink plastic Eames chairs? They memorably made a ferry trip off island (pix exist of this) with the owner of the House of Hat andf myself and, as I recollect, an air conditioner I found at the dump.
ReplyDeleteAnd, Angelina, about the dump. It seems you've been spreading your fantasies about my love life at the dump. If, as I posit, there are three ways to know all there is to know about someone, to wit: to study their credit card slips, phone bills and garbage ALL OF WHICH CAN BE FOUND AT THE DUMP, you have shopped my info to the island equivalent of the National Inquirer.
Just because YOU don't mind being the subject of gossip (and keeping in mind that you are very well paid for it indeed) doesn't mean that I am down with it. In fact I am NOT down with it, and I don't even know whether I dare return to the Island until another scandale has replaced my ill-considered confession of attraction.
Go Pitt yourself.
Scandal smandal....it will all be forgotten by the next piece of news..which being summer..chances are you have already been replaced as the lead in story.
ReplyDeleteScandals are fun...I suggest we start a new story about C....what about C as a practicing witch that has coven meetings in the dungeon she has built illegally under her home.
ReplyDeleteAh nuts. I was sure I guessed right.
ReplyDeleteIt wasn't Angelina Jolie. (She was in Manhattan over the weekend --see today's Page Six). In fact, I heard The Rogue himself bragging about a certain property-owning, bad-French-door-having , long-blonde-haired-sporting MILF. Hot hot hot, he said. And he wasn't talking weather.
ReplyDeleteWait, wait, wait. What's MILF? I'm not really up on modern dating lingo.
ReplyDeleteAre these blogspam or telemarkerblog ads?
ReplyDeleteI'm trying to figure out which child/poker/sex/hydrotherapy/real estate/mommy site linked to mine. Issue salad?
ReplyDeleteThis is definitely out of control. You need a new, secret blogsite for all of old-timers. Now you know how Brad feels when the media targets us. Phew!
ReplyDeleteMILF = Mom I'd Like to . . . make savage love to
ReplyDeleteAs in Dennis. So, like, did you? Or are you saving it all for Biff?
ReplyDeleteAngie, baby, you should know that this is not something you can "save." Use it or lose it.
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, Danno, the chairs at CSC are the blue version of these chairs. I did not resort to photo shop, however. The pink (and more valuable) version lives in Nueva York. I'm thinking of taking them all to Palm Springs for sale and then retiring.
OOOOH!
ReplyDeleteDennis is hot and the accent doesn't hurt either..
ReplyDeletenot that it makes a difference...but he is either seeing someone or very much wanting to be involved with her....no she does not work at the dump..
she has an orange cat that likes to visit the dump.
OG, you have info we're not privy to. So share, already. Enough with the hints.
ReplyDeleteThe answer is in the above post. She has an orange cat
ReplyDeleteshe owns an orange cat ...
she has to go to the dump with trash from the orange cat.
This is not second hand gossip....my morning coffee gave a birds eye view to the courting habits of a carpenter and lady that owns a orange cat. As to the mating habits...that would be second hand news if you wanted this information.
Hello Everyone
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