My nostrils flare at the sight of him

Pursed lips, shady gaze, the whole nine. I'm talking about Scott Caan, which is why I'll apparently never be able to watch Hawaii 5-0. GUYS. Really? Really? He's a "sex symbol?" BLECH x infinity. His head is eighteen times too big for his squatty frame, first of all, second of all, I'm taller than him and I'm not that tall. I'm 5'6" for those who need to know. Jon Stewart is the only man that gets a pass on that with me, and it's because he's (mostly) proportional. And he's Jon Stewart.

I practically fast forward through Entourage eps when Caan's on screen because he's so disproportionate. Whenever he would get shirty on that show I would always shout out, "And my ax!*" to make my husband laugh. HE IS GROCE. (AND LIKE, ALL OF YOU LOVE HIM. Siiiiiigh. You can have my portion.)

There, I feel better. Except for how I found out yesterday that I AM OLDER THAN ANGIE HARMON BY TWO DAYS. How is that possible? That totes gave me a sad. AND I AM OLDER THAN GOOP. I feel like they're way older than me, and I'm 18 and why do these kids keep calling me "mom" and ... *cry*

Okay, to feel better I'm going to remind myself of the fantastic (and inexpensive) bottle of Calif. Cab I drank last night. Um, I did cook with one glassful of it, so it's not that bad that I drank the rest. NO IT ISN'T. Louis M. Martini Cab Sav, Alexander Valley, 2006 reserve. I'm getting a few bottle to cellar, because it's supposed to get better with age, and I don't know how that's possible.


*You cannot have my axe, though, because it's currently detailing my balls. <--- UM MY SON ASKED FOR THIS PRODUCT. FOR HIS BALLS. NO, THOSE WERE HIS WORDS. I blame video games. (Also, Old Spice Guy on Chuck!!)

That should be enough random for now, right?