Dont judge me. Well, Ok.....if you must.
2011-03-13, 10:06 p.m.
OK, OK, its confessional time.Much as I would like to say I have been up to something louche, and dangerous, and fun and a little bit illegal�.I haven�t. Im just after having just about THEEEEEE most pathetic celebrity crush in the history of crushdom.
Now, any of you who might have been with me for a while (or anyone who�s ever met either/both of my husbands) will know my taste in men can be somewhat�ummm�questionable. Should you so desire, you can read all about some of my little flights of fancy HERE and HERE, and HERE
although, I must say that my choice of boyflesh changes almost daily and really is quite disturbing at times.
Until jolly recently, it was all I could do to get out of the house in the mornings, what with �Deadly 60� being on CBBC and a good chance of seeing Steve Backshall with his shirt off whilst I was chugging down the 90th java of the day. Trouble is with le Backshell, though, is that his face is a gurning mess of lumpen features � like someone somehow found an ecstatic-looking potato.
He also has a voice that just irritates the hell outta me. The kids would roll into the TV room of a morning, see me watching Deadly 60 and just yell �yeh, yeh, Steve. Whatever! Just shut up yer yappin and get your shirt off so I can get a sensible answer out of mum when I ask her for my dinner money, already.�
But, oh, fucking hell, does he look MANLY without his shirt on. Oh, Em, F-ing, Geeeeee. Chest hair, muscles, sinewy forearms��Ommmy Nom Nom.
I know, I know. I am tragic.
Anyways, the latest news is that Steve-Ohmigosh has been usurped. By an older, hairier and altogether more disturbing hunk-a-hunk-a-burnin-love.
Mmmmmmmmm. I am totally fan-girling out over the Beret + glasses + Mustache that = Jamie Hyneman
*���waits for readers to stop laughing���..waits a bit longer���waits��.OK, now you�re just being unkind��*
Oh Gollygosh do I luuuuurve me some Jamie Hyneman. I can overlook the fact that his head is almost completely spherical by balancing it with the absolute PRECISION with which his shirt sleeves are rolled up. No hastily tucked-up cuffs for Mr Hyneman, No! HIS sleeves are shortened with Vernier Caliper accuracy. I *gulp* at his immaculate chinos, his calmness in the face of extreme Adam Savage Provocation and his unerring ability to blow shit up. The sheer grumpy calm of the man makes me go all squibbly � he could most certainly carry out some controlled detonations on THIS Myth, Buthterth!
(sorry, sorry, sorry! That was just awful. I fully expect to be drummed out of The Punners Guild for that.)
Oh, BTW, could any of my US cousins note me and let me know if Mythbusters has an English voiceover if you�re watching it in the states? The whole programme is clearly American, but we have a regular English guy doing the voiceover here and Im not sure if its because that�s how the programme is made or whether its done afterwards, cos all he seems to do is to convert all the measurements into metric � which is a bit pointless cos any middle aged ladies sentient beings watching the show can surely work out the imperial measurements, cant they? Even little kids know what an inch/foot/mile looks like. And Jamie and Adam shooting coca cola 35ft in the air isn�t enhanced any by an anonymous Geordie (?) breathlessly telling us �that�s over ten and a half METRES!�
Anyone wanting to fess up to peculiar star crushes is welcome to leave me a note/comment (make sure you leave a link if Im not likely to have heard of them). C�mon, make me feel less of loser!
So. In the words of Nessa, what�s occurring?
Mostly nothing, obviously, as our new telly shows Mythbusters pretty much back to back all day long. And when its not doing that its tempting me away from my motherly duties by forcing me to watch Will and Grace and to remind myself how very much like Jack and Karen me and Slaveboy are!
However, when I did tear myself away long enough to go and buy groceries my reverie was disturbed by Wee Treacle phoning me in the middle of Lidl to ask for a recipe for coffee and walnut cake.
I replicate it here for you, �creative� spelling and all, just as I dictated down the phone line. She didn�t write very full instructions, cos she does know how to make a cake (for instance, there�s no mention of the chopped nuts until they actually get stirred in!):
And look! She did it all by herself!
and jolly tasty it was, too!
In other news, Jooj bought herself some rather nifty looking old-skool roller skates off ebay and chose today to get her friend Curtsey round to have a little try of �em.
The replica German outriders helmet is, in this re-enactment, playing the part of �proper head protection�. Im not sure what the Fred Flintstone sweater is doing, other than make her look like a bobblehead.
She is, as we speak, stretched out on her front on the sofa, on account of having a ginormous arse-bruise from multiple bouts of �falling� �slipping up�, �tumbling� and �being shit at rollerskating�.
Speaking of Jooj, she has a new BF! One of the boys from the engineering class I work at had taken a bit of a shine to her when she came to meet me one day and after a shocking amount of cajoling and matchmaking on my part, they started dating a couple of weeks ago.
I must say, despite a somewhat unconventional appearance, he�s just luuuuuuuuuuvely and I utterly approve � they dated for the best part of a month with NOT A SNOG being exchanged. Practically Amish in comparison with my own slutty teen years. I am ashamed to say that, by the time I was only a couple of months older than my dear Joojie Girl is now, I already had a bedpost notched to a state of filigree and was shagging her father in the back of his orange VW fastback (once Id finished my homework, obviously. I wasn�t a total wastrel.)
I admire their patience (although, there HAS been kissing now. Jooj tells me stuff.) and their ability to fight hormones and peer pressure and windows of opportunity and all that stuff and to actually take a bit of time to get to know each other, to have fun and recognise that there�s more to being grown up than doing grown up things. Love em.
The sight of him on Tuesday, in my kitchen, filled with swaggeringly good-natured self-importance, tossing a pancake and punching the air when it landed perfectly back in the pan, then looking anxiously at Jooj and beaming when she clapped and was impressed that he�d done it. Oh, it was a joy to behold, dear readers. Hoorah for Pancake Day and hoorah for teenagers who can keep their knickers on.