Sunday Morning Music: There is a certain someone – a fellow blogger who reads here on the reg – who has a weekly feature on his blog, so named.
From what I can glean, Mr Certain Someone has muscles in his head. Which he sometimes exercises in curious ways.
But he exercises, nonetheless: brain and body.
According to his blog bio, he is a power lifter. (I’m not sure how, exactly, one goes about lifting power – the static electricity would be horrendous.) Also according to his bio, he is is a married, “mature” (that’s a euphemism, folks) southern gentleman.
According to his post content, he:
- appreciates the female form(s)
- digs cars
- eats barbeque
- enjoys art
- has a thing for pin-ups
- is into retro-futurism
- knows how to get un-arrested in foreign countries
- likes to ride motorcycles
- manages to be brilliant about utter nonsense
- once was in the music business
- possesses encyclopedic knowledge of a gazillion random things
- prefers mature women
- served in the U.S. military
- travels
According to his bloggerly interactions, I can say with confidence that he has an understated sense of satire, a peculiarly placed funny bone, and a firm sense of honor. He is sweet and helpful and loyal, and he genuinely appreciates his readers. (He also appreciates some of the more arcane aesthetics available for human consumption, such as horrid vinyl album cover art.)
Plus, he always finds something to do with the obscure memes and comics I send him.
I don’t always agree with his opinions (oh c’mon… Carly Simon was NOT a rock ‘n roll artist) or with his vocabulation (‘groovy’ is SO four decades ago, man), and I really don’t get his whole ‘thing’ about lingerie (it’s uncomfortable, yo).
But that’s okay. Because he’s the kind of person who doesn’t need to convince you that they’re “right” (let’s leave the left out of it), and who is always ready with positive reinforcement (and a funny or four) when it’s needed.
Besides, he thinks I taste exquisite.
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