Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Wednesday's Sexy Word of the Week

by Auguste Marceau

It starts with a simple PURRRR, like the sound of a content kitten. Don't be afraid to roll the R right there at the end before you bring your sweet bottom lip under your porcelain upper teeth for the F. Then ID is the next syllable. The id is something to keep ever at the forefront of your mind. After that softly spoken D bring on the final little turn: IOUS. EE-usssssssss...And hold that S the way we whisper sweetnothings.


adj.-- deliberately faithless; deceitful; treacherous

Be wary,  my sweet ones. This is a sexy sounding word but its sound belies its usage. Or does it...

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Sunday Zen

(the cosmic microwave background radiation)

There is a theory that states that if ever anybody discovers exactly what the universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable...There is another theory that states that this has already happened. --Douglas Adams

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Wednesday's Sexy Word of the Week

When the cold wind blows and the sun visits so infrequently, our first instinct is to huddle and hide. Curl under the supposed security of that fleece blanket and wait it out. Perhaps that is not the answer. Perhaps we should fight against that urge and spread ourselves out to catch, capture, and collaborate with each spare ray of light.


F-R makes your bottom lip creep out from under your teeth. At the end we get to let that S sound slide and slip and linger.

noun -- the process of putting forth leaves.

Put forth your leaves, darlings. Open your foliage to the things that are here today. Do not wait for warmer weather. Embrace the cold and let it become a part of you.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Sunday Zen

"It's enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment." -- Gabriel García Márquez

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Wednesday's Sexy Word of the Week

One definitely needs some fresh air and sunshine this time of year. We're almost locked indoors, staring through panes of glass, watching the grey clouds float by, huddling with blankets to ward off the cold wind that seems to penetrate to our bones, longing to loose ourselves and frolic with childlike glee among a welcoming Mother Nature and her progeny. 

Jump in the car, darlings. We're headed to the shore. Salt water will heal all those emotional wounds. Let the waves carry your troubles away. 


n.-- a passion for the sea. 

I can hear the sirens calling.