Well, maybe if you trained them for a long time.  What is that show about picking the girl off the streets and teaching her to be a lady.  Shit, I just answered my own question.  “My Fair Lady”.  Wasn’t that a movie about guiding a woman to be a good wife?  Maybe there is hope yet for the women of the world.  I wonder if I should open a class on how to be a woman and be good at the same time.  I can only hope and pray that this is one of my posts that my girlfriend is not reading.  Something tells me I might be in some deep shit right about now.

At least I am now proven right on another front.  According to an article in the New York Times drinking is good for your weight.  The drinkers in a study were a little lighter on their feet than the non-drinkers.  Take that in your pill box and eat it for dinner.  Damn, I might have to actually stop picking on the Catholics as well.  Say what you what about those damn little vixens but they do like their vino now don’t they?  If you are a slurper of good wine you can’t be all that bad.  I don’t care what the allegations are.

Ok, not completely true.  Even if you do drink there are some things I just can’t tolerate in a partner.  Being an ass is probably one.  I guess it is a good thing I lost some of my friends in my divorce since I am finding out several of them were castrated by their wives to begin with.  Can you say hello to a bald headed, non college graduate who sells filters for a living.  I am not pointing fingers, but if you call my writing high schoolish again we might have to step outside.  Sadly if we did that, he would be forced to change out of his catholic school girl uniform and grow a pair.  Can you grow them back once your wife has cut them off, or are they gone for good?

Damn, what was this blog about anyway?  Can we focus on the positive and give Jade Bryce her do.  She is gorgeous; let’s hope she signs up for our exclusive interview list.  We are starting those next week by the way.  We have two back and they are fantastic.

Sometimes I feel like a nut and sometimes I just need to let things go, but I can’t.  Just when I think I am out they pull me back in.  Damn, I don’t even like wearing a skirt.  Hello.

Check out Duncan’s Diary: Birth of a Serial Killer on Amazon. It is a killer book.

You can find it on Kindle here  Duncan’s Dairy on Kindle.

So Frida is nineteen and jumping into modeling.  I wonder if she has ever thought about doing a commercial for Frito Lay.  Now that sounds like a partnership that would go hand in hand.  I love those damn little corn chips.  I think that Frito Lay makes all kinds of snacks but when I hear the name the first think I think of are those curly little salt filled corn chips.  Nothing like grabbing a handful for lunch.  It has to be better than the chocolate candy I have been eating the last couple of weeks.  I can’t even remember what a vegetable tastes like.

What does it matter anyway, the secret to living longer has nothing to do with what we eat, I have recently discovered.  It all has to do with taking oral contraceptives.  Damn, I think the male population has been telling women for years there are good reasons for taking the pill.  Now we have medical proof.  I just read in an ABC News article that oral contraceptives “May” increase a woman’s life expectancy.  Actually the way they phrase it is slightly different.  They say it may decrease the risk of death.  That sounds too confusing to me.  I don’t have any idea what in the hell they are talking about.

Would that mean if I take a pill there might be less risk of me getting hit by a car for instance?  How do you decrease the risk of death?  Does that mean that my life expectancy remains the same but my chances of dying are smaller?  I sometimes think that people should make fun of our newspapers and stop poking holes in my writing.  Damn, concentrate on issues of importance.  My blog posts are about random thoughts that pop into my head.  Does it really matter if I articulate them correctly?

Sometimes I feel like a nut and sometimes I get excited about the prospects of living longer.  I am going to ask my girlfriend to get a double dose of birth control pills and see if I can take them as well.  Shit, I almost got hit by a car last night when I was drunk and walking across the street.  If a pill can help reduce the odds of me croaking, I don’t care if I could possibly grow breasts.

Check out Duncan’s Diary: Birth of a Serial Killer on Amazon. It is a killer book.

You can find it on Kindle here  Duncan’s Dairy on Kindle.

I wonder if Miss Leblonde was born with this name or if she added it after the fact.  Not sure that I can really point fingers about somebody’s name.  I go by Duncan Moron.  Now what kind of idiotic name is that.  Actually the same guy who said I repeat myself is the guy who inspired the name.  Maybe he is the Moron and not me.  Maybe we are all morons and we are just not smart enough to know it.  According to an article in the L.A. Times we can’t even agree on what the definition of “having sex” is.

What is having sex?  Is it oral, is it penetration, is it kissing, is it dependant on whether your girlfriend worries about trusting you or not?  My guess is if you kiss another girl it won’t matter whether you had sex or not, your girlfriend will beat the living hell out of you.  I know my would.  I think it is funny, if you read the article, how a large percentage of the old men don’t even think that intercourse is sex.  I would like to know how in the hell they have intercourse.  Does it change when you get wrinkled and soft.

Now that I am well on my way past middle age and I am as round as I am tall, I might be in the same boat as the old guys before you know it.  The study didn’t even approach watching porn and what that might me.  Damn, the possibilities.  If I were doing the study I would get Erin and all of her friends together and see what they thought.  Who cares about us old people at this stage of the game.  Let’s get the smoking hot young models thoughts and move on from there.

Sometimes I feel like a nut and sometimes it is good to get clarification on the definition of sex before moving forward.  You might find yourself in the middle of a bad scene otherwise.

Just don’t ask the religious folks, those people think the only true definition of sex is missionary style, everything else is fun and games.  It is all ok until somebody loses and eye.  Damn, where is my Twinkie by the way.

Check out Duncan’s Diary: Birth of a Serial Killer on Amazon. It is a killer book.

You can find it on Kindle here  Duncan’s Dairy on Kindle.

On June 25, the entertainment world lost two shining stars. Farrah Fawcett lost her three-year battle with anal cancer at age 62 that day. Upon hearing the news, almost everyone mourned this loss, and NBC Dateline aired an hour-long program, called “Farrah Fawcett: The Life and Death of an Angel.” Whispered memories of her bright smile, her engaging nature, her sweet personality, and yes, that lovely hair, swirled for hours.

But, by 5:00 p.m., those whispers had stopped. Farrah’s death was shelved when more shocking news hit the air waves. Michael Jackson was rumored to have been rushed to the hospital, and word that he was dead was starting to trickle out. The King of Pop was, indeed, gone, and so was any memory that Farrah Fawcett had also lost her life.

Seeing the media pour over Michael Jackson’s death over the next few weeks and ignore Farrah Fawcett was maddening. Yes, I know that his death was suspicious, and his doctor is now under indictment. But, a death is a death, loss is a loss and human life is human life. All are equal.

It wasn’t until Sunday night, though, that I realized the true extent to which she had been pushed outside of our collective memory. The In Memorium segment at the Academy Awards has always been a time to remember the talented people who have left us during the previous year and reflect upon their achievements. This year’s list was incomplete — as the names and faces flashed across the screen, Farrah Fawcett was nowhere to be found. But, Michael Jackson was.

As an aside, I’m well aware that the Academy didn’t include Bea Arthur, as well. This also makes me sad, but the specific circumstances around Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson gave me greater pause.

Now, I am one of MJ’s biggest fans. I still dance to his music and can vividly remember pulling out the vinyl Thriller album that my parents bought me so I could flit around the room. I deeply mourned his death. But, to label him as an actor is simply inaccurate and unfair to those who devote their lives to the craft.

It breaks my heart for Farrah Fawcett’s family that not only was her death quickly forgotten because a bigger, and arguably more bizarre, star followed her closely in passing, but she was also overlooked for a list of actors and actresses who died in 2009. A list, people. She was left off a list. Someone really fell down on the job by omitting her. This isn’t like going to the grocery store and forgetting the peanut butter because you forgot to write it down. This is forgetting to acknowledge a living, breathing being who worked hard to entertain us and fought valiantly for her life.

There is something fundamentally wrong with that. The Academy’s lame excuse that they “can’t include everyone” is ridiculous. Some of these In Memorium segments have lingered on the screen far longer that I would’ve liked. You would hope that records are scrubbed to make sure that no one is left out.

And, in the case of two deaths in one day — you make sure you include both. It’s just what you do, period

In Costa Rica (where I live part time), if a tree falls in one town, it can mean a blackout for the next town over. Tree falling weather is such a big deal that people take out extra insurance in case a tree falls on their house.

Heavy rain is what causes the trees to fall, and right now, we’ve got some heavy rain on the Caribbean coast. A tree fell across the road a few days ago and took out the phone lines. No internet for days, which wouldn’t be such a big deal if I wasn’t trying to blog, organize a tour for my dance company director, and organize a belly dance intensive to Egypt. What made me think that I could accomplish all that while living in the rainforest? I guess living in an urban center for part of the year makes me forget what it’s like to live in a rural village down in the tropics.

Falling trees have some interesting positives, though. The bromeliads that grow high in the branches become accessible and make a beautiful addition to my garden. The wildlife that comes out of the tree make worthy photographs. Take the wicked scorpion that crawled out of the tree that fell on our road last year; I hadn’t seen a scorpion in the wild until then. And come to think about it, I hope that’s the last time I see one! The thing looked like a vicious, little alien.

We used to have a beautiful, old growth tree in our yard. We even paid extra to extend the property when we bought it, just so we could have the tree included. Ironically, a few months later we found out that the tree was diseased and rotting and would most likely come crashing down at some point, so we had to cut it down. The pieces of the massive tree trunk are still in our backyard- cutting them up and burning them seems like too big of a job for us to tackle just yet.

The most unfortunate thing, however, is that the wood from the old growth trees is too soft to use for anything besides mulch for the garden. Of course, deep in the rainforest, fallen trees are merely a part of the ecosystem. I guess all the broken power lines, damaged houses, and blocked roads are our own fault for moving into nature’s playground. And I better take out some house insurance soon, because I think the tree across the road has an eye on my house and is biding its time to come crashing down for when I least expect it. In Costa Rica, trees have a mind of their own!

The outrage felt by belly dancers at Waters’ and O’Reilly’s comments is understandable. I don’t know any dancers who took up belly dancing because 9/11 made them curious about Arabic culture. Usually, women take up belly dancing as a way to get in shape, to express themselves, to connect with other women, and a myriad of other reasons. Classes contain a diverse mix of ages, ethnicities, and body sizes, and it follows that the motives for belly dancing are just as diverse.

Furthermore, if anything, 9/11 has caused an increased ignorance of Arabic culture, rather than a curiosity about it. Bill O’Reilly proves this himself during the interview when he says that a woman “would be beheaded if she did that in a Muslim country”. Obviously, O’Reilly is more ignorant than curious, because if he was curious than he would be interested to know that belly dancing is very popular in countries like Egypt and Turkey, where both Islam and belly dance co-exist peacefully.

A friend of mine and prominent Egyptian dancer, Sausan Molthen, has observed that there is a boom in belly dance roughly every ten years. Trends ebb and flow, especially in the dance world. Also, part of the rise in popularity is due to the emergence of tribal belly dance in the 1980s; from which a number of belly dance genres have sprung forth. From the 1990s to present day, dancers have seen an explosion of belly dance styles, including American Tribal Style, Tribal Fusion, Gothic Belly Dance, and Belly Dance Theatre. From these have emerged a variety of fusions, as well: belly dance fused with ballet, modern dance, hip hop, jazz, Turkish Roma, and so forth. Belly dance has become popular in America not because of 9/11, but because so many dedicated teachers and dancers have been working their asses off to spread and promote their art.

The ignorance in Waters’ and O’Reilly’s segment was truly astounding. Waters seemed shocked that there were children in attendance at the competition and O’Reilly followed up by saying that belly dancing should be reserved for ages 16 and up. My jaw dropped on that one. In some cultures, children start learning to dance before they can walk. And the way a child belly dances is very different than the way an adult dances. Children look adorable when they belly dance, not sexually indecent like O’Reilly implies. Certainly, this clip shows that even a five year old girl can belly dance- without losing any of her innocence. Besides, children are often better belly dancers than adults because their bodies are so flexible. There are two boys I know in Costa Rica that can do better belly rolls than any dancer I know- even better than Rachel Brice!

It would be great if Waters and O’Reilly had developed a curiously about Arabic culture after 9/11, rather than the ignorance that they continue to show. Or maybe they should both get their asses to a belly dance class and learn what it’s all about first hand- because men can be belly dancers, too!

I was recently reading an article in the New York Times that focused on the prevalence of depression in society and what are the possible upsides.  Are there upsides to depression?  My guess is everyone in the world has suffered from depression at one point in their lives or another.  Despite the success of Nikki Gray I am sure that she has had to overcome a few personal setbacks.  Who has not failed at one point or another?  Damn, it might not even be a failure.  Let’s define it simply as who has ever made a mistake?

The article discussed how the self isolation that often accompanies depression can lead to great success if the energies are harnessed to a focal point.  They site Darwin as the perfect example.  Would Darwin have been as accomplished had he not maintained an eerie one tracked mind keeping him pointed in a singular direction?  Can one take depression and find the niche they so badly need before plummeting over the abyss into the land of the lost?  Are actors nothing more than individuals so devoted to a craft they find their success inside the body of a foreign character.

I am not sure what the intent of the article really is and I am in no way saying that actors or everyone who is successful is depressed.  I am in truth not saying anything, which is what I do so well in the midst of my mindless ramblings.  I do know one thing for sure, Nikki Gray is smoking hot.  I discovered her while lying in my bed wallowing in self pity derived from not yet having attained the literary status I so long for.  Am I depressed?  Is Nikki depressed?  Maybe I am just hungry.  I have only eaten a banana for lunch.

Sometimes I feel like a nut and sometimes I wonder if we couldn’t possibly cure depression with a banana.  If we just increased the banana supplies nationwide maybe, just maybe, we would find ourselves happier, more jovial.  Just a thought.  I am just saying.

Check out Duncan’s Diary: Birth of a Serial Killer on Amazon. It is a killer book.

You can find it on Kindle here  Duncan’s Dairy on Kindle.

By cows, I do literally mean cows.  I am not trying to imply anything.  I still remember “Love Actually”.  Now that English dude ended up in Wisconsin, and there were some smoking hot women hanging out in that bar.  The good thing about Wisconsin is trying to keep the women warm.  It is cold up there.  Still, having it nice and sunny has some perks.  Hanging out on the beach in a bikini is one of them.  I was thinking of Laura Beth by the way.  I have worn a bikini a few times but not out in public.  My girlfriend thinks it is strange enough to wear one at home.

Maybe in a few years the public opinion will sway and men in bikinis will be the norm.  It seems the people in charge change their mind about as often as my youngest daughter throws up.  What in the hell is up with kids and throwing up all over the place.  Can’t we all aim and hit the toilet.  It is a pretty damn big target.  I just read an article in The Wall Street Journal saying how people should refrain from taking aspirin daily.  Apparently it can cause bleeding ulcers.  So, do you want to die from a bleeding ulcer or a heart attack?

Jesus, in a few years they might say that TV’s are bad for our IQ’s and microwaves give off radiation poisoning.  As long as they don’t take away Twinkies.  Twinkies are good for everything.  They have cake, cream filling, and are the perfect treat when you are sitting at home indulging in some home grown herbal delight.  The only drawback is finding a bikini that fits.  Do they sell two piece swimsuits for men in the big and well, not so tall but big section?  I will have to get up and head over to K-Mart and see what is in stock.

Sometimes I feel like a nut and sometimes it feels good to give a supporting hand to a gorgeous girl like Laura Beth.  Wait a minute, I offered both of my hands in support.  Just give me a minute to wash the golden cake crumbs off my fingers.

Check out Duncan’s Diary: Birth of a Serial Killer on Amazon. It is a killer book.

You can find it on Kindle here  Duncan’s Dairy on Kindle.

So Katherine has done a few television shows, she is in the middle of shooting a brand new one currently.  She has done some movies, a butt load of magazine spreads and now all she needs to do is put out her own record.  Yes, I know, here I go again.  I say skip the music and spend more time in a bikini by the pool, or in a shower, or hot tub, or anything else that involves water and/or Jell-o.  Damn, please, for the love of God, spend as much time in a bikini as possible and give us all something to hope for in life.

I know I have touted some girls on this site as being at or near perfection in the past but Katherine L Rose has the ability to go toe to toe with any of them.  I would love to see her with a few of these other women and find out…………..what was I talking about anyway.  I remember something about Katherine and other women and I then lost track.  Can we just leave it at that?  Just put Katherine with other women and let’s see where things play out from there.  I have a simple mind; thank God it has only been infected by home grown drugs.  I don’t want any of my doctors going overboard.

In an Associated Press article they are now talking about doctors who have been giving some kids a little more morphine than required.  Now I personally say if a child is dying of cancer and is in that much pain can’t we do the humane thing and let the parents do whatever they think is best.  Jesus, if it were my kid I am not sure I could stand seeing them suffer up until the end if I already knew there was no hope.  Like most things, I blame the damn lawyers for screwing up the system.  Leave some decisions within the family and let’s stop pointing fingers and placing judgment.  Next thing you know the Catholics will be trying to tell us abortions are an act against God.

Sometimes I feel like a nut and sometimes I have the joy of spotting a woman as drop dead gorgeous as Katherine L Rose and I losing track of everything else.  A rose is just a rose by any other name, and I can almost guarantee it smells as sweet.

Check out Duncan’s Diary: Birth of a Serial Killer on Amazon. It is a killer book.

You can find it on Kindle here  Duncan’s Dairy on Kindle.

Her one flaw might be her name.  Not that I don’t like Jordan, but if you are going to go by one name you might want to get famous first.  Especially a name like Jordan.  For me at least the name will always be associated with Michael and the phenomenal years he brought to Chicago as he placed the NBA back in the limelight.  Aside from a nice wine, I am not sure where the name goes from there but she has some big shoes to fill in living up to the legacy.  Let’s hope she is up for it and embodies the drive it will take to achieve success.  She has my vote.

Seems like the measurement for success can be linked to your IQ as well as your looks, but after reading an article in CNN I am amazed at everything else that is associated with you intelligence.  What if I said only men who were sexually exclusive were above intelligence?  If you happen to be an atheist and a liberal you would be ranked even higher.  It appears that IQ can be linked to the choices you make.  Damn, so all of those women who were cheated on and called their former male partners ignorant assholes just might have been right.

I wonder if admiring beautiful women from afar has its issues as well.  There are some statistics that should just never be published.  If you tell me I am stupid for looking at beautiful girls then I will have to acquiesce to my ignorance and embrace the stupidity.  There are some things in life that are just not worth giving up for simply being able to decipher an equation.  Jordan, you will continue to get my vote even if it means I might be as stupid as a box of rocks.  It is a sacrifice I am willing to make.

Sometimes you feel like a nut and sometimes the price of candy is well worth the sweet savory taste of sugar.  I am just saying.

Check out Duncan’s Diary: Birth of a Serial Killer on Amazon. It is a killer book.

You can find it on Kindle here  Duncan’s Dairy on Kindle.

I am wondering if she can get a discount for me on some Juicy Couture items since she has done some work for them.  I have three daughters and a girlfriend.  I don’t know if you have ever been in a Juicy store but the sweatshirts alone are $100.  Who made this stuff up?  Women’s jeans are now $400, bags are $400, shirts are $200, aren’t we in the middle of a recession.  When I added up how many books I would have to sell in order for me to buy one pair of jeans, I decided to start going naked.  I am even attempting to turn it into some kind of marketing scheme.  The naked writer.

Speaking of which, I am sure our avid readers are wondering about my lack of productivity lately.  Sadly I am in the middle of writing another book.  My first book is getting such rave reviews that I have decided to write another one.  Granted my next book will venture away from the serial killer genre but it will still be sad and tragic.  My girlfriend tells me I can’t write any other way.  I wonder if that is a reflection of my life or if I write about misery because my life is so serene and perfect.  Shit, you decide.

So the next few weeks are going to be hit and miss in the blog posting section.  Once I finish my next book I possibly might write a third as well so who in the hell knows when the posts will get back on track.  One thing I can guarantee is when we do post something, it will be about a smoking hot woman.  That is really all I know.  I should also note that we are starting our interview process with some of the models as well.  I am in the middle of several so you should start to see some exclusive one on one sessions coming up soon.  If there is a specific model you would like to get to know, shoot me an e-mail at duncanmoron@journalstone.com and I will see what I can do.

Sometimes I feel like a nut and sometimes I get in the mood to pet the little kitty.  Here little kitty, here girl, come to daddy.

Check out Duncan’s Diary: Birth of a Serial Killer on Amazon. It is a killer book.

You can find it on Kindle here  Duncan’s Dairy on Kindle.

In all my years as an avid political observer, I’ve seen a lot of things that have frustrated me, made me angry or, flat out, disgusted me. Nothing has ticked me off more, though, that the image of the dutiful, long-suffering politician’s wife. If the saying that behind every successful man is a strong and good woman, then why do all of these ladies look and act like doormats?!

Think about it — over the past decade, what have we seen? N.J. Gov. James McGreevey resigned in 2004 after accusations that he was gay and had sexually harassed a staffer proved true. Idaho Sen. Larry Craig lost his re-election bid in 2009 after a police report that he had allegedly solicited sex in an airport bathroom came to light. N.Y. Gov. Eliot Spitzer resigned from office in 2008 amidst a blazing scandal in which he spent copious amounts of money on prostitutes — the irony in his case was rich.

The one constant in these cases has been the forlorn, dejected wife standing next to her husband at the podium while he apologized to the world and his family for his transgressions and asked for privacy as he tried to make amends. Give me a break. If he were my husband, you better believe I wouldn’t be standing there, and I certainly wouldn’t have had any supportive words to utter.

I can offer two exceptions to the rule — well one half exception and one full. Hillary Clinton may have stood by Bill Clinton when accusations and proof of all his affairs surfaced, but there are enough rumors floating around to make me feel pretty confident that Hillary scorched Bill’s ears on plenty of occasions. She’s also a powerful politician in her own right, and she’s thrown herself in an amazingly successful career. As a woman, I have to say, way to go, Hillary!

But, on to my true exception. Jenny Sanford. Today, her divorce from

Jenny Sanford, soon-to-be ex-wife of censured S.C. Gov. Mark Sanford.

S.C. Gov. Mark Sanford becomes final in a Charleston family court. Last year, Sanford humiliated himself, his wife, his sons and his state when he disappeared from the country on Father’s Day weekend to visit his “soulmate” mistress in Argentina. In his public confession all he did was froth off about how wonderful this woman was and how there was an instant attraction. A public “D’oh! I’m sorry” it was not.

What was missing? Yep, you guessed it. Jenny Sanford. I love it that a woman was pissed off enough and confident enough to tell her husband, “Hell no, I’m standing with you out in front of those cameras.” Mark Sanford made this mess for himself, and she let him swing in the wind by himself when he admitted it. Rock on, sistah!

Here is a woman who is setting a positive example for young women and girls everywhere. No, I not condoning divorce as a fabulous thing. But, I am condoning and promoting images of women who are strong enough to take control of their lives and not put up with the ridiculousness that “men of power” think they are entitled to create.

We don’t need to tell our little girls that they have to suffer with the indignity caused by infidelity. We don’t need to let them think that their place is to merely succumb to the whims of their husbands or partners. Our little girls should know that it’s acceptable and expected that they stand up for themselves and demand to be treated appropriately.

So, to Jenny Sanford, I say this: You might not be the warmest of women, but my hat’s off to you. Thank you for finally doing what the majority of us have wanted political wives to do for so long. Thank you for taking charge of your life and your marriage.

Most of all, thank you for showing your four young sons that real men don’t treat women the way their father has treated you. You’ve just help school-up a new generation of men.

At five feet, two inches, one has to wonder how much pop is packed into this pint sized bundle of power.  You have to assume she is feisty because anyone who is under a hundred pounds and toting that much of a mane probably has the ability to make a full grown man cry for his mommy.  I sure hope to God that she likes this post.  I don’t want to be on the short end of her fiery fury.  You have to love women with spunk.  They might scare you and they might be prone to some angry outbursts but they have plenty of passion in other areas so………hello Laryssa Rose.

As lovely as redheads might be, one can only hope they are not prone to choking on an oversized hotdog.  OMG people, get your heads out of your backside.  I am referencing the latest article from NBC which is now slamming the hotdog industry.  It is stating that hotdogs are a choking hazard and we might want to put a warning label on the package.  I for one wonder where in the hell our government money is being spent.  Hotdogs have been around for about 100 years and people are just now figuring out they are a choking hazard.  What in the hell.  Are you kidding me?

I could have told you from day one of my adolescence that hot dogs were a choking hazard.  If I had a dollar for every girl that I saw choking on a hotdog I might be a millionaire by now.  Wait a minute?  Did I say girl.  I am sure there are some guys that choke on hotdogs as well.  I personally don’t eat them so I don’t have that problem.  Not that there is anything wrong with that.  We all find our nourishment in whatever form that makes sense.  I am a burger man and I like the four legged dogs.  Keep the hotdogs in your pants and the cats can all be sent to Asia.  I am just saying.

Sometimes I feel like a nut and sometimes you have to wonder how the infamous hotdog got associated with apple pie and the American dream.  Some dude must have woken up that morning and left for work feeling good about life.  You have to love the rising sun on a beautiful summer morning dude.  Stand up straight and salute your flag.  You are an American, so be proud.

Check out Duncan’s Diary: Birth of a Serial Killer on Amazon. It is a killer book.

You can find it on Kindle here  Duncan’s Dairy on Kindle.

“Dear John” is (as you might infer) a movie about a young man in the military who finds his way home for a couple of weeks, falls in love and then gets dumped via the US postal service.  He is a surfer dude, with a rock hard body and a quiet reserved demeanor.  Channing Tatum plays the lead role and while I don’t know too much about him, his acting was less than stellar.  While all the women in the audience were watching with their mouths wide open and a little drool forming or their lips, he didn’t do much more than grunt his way through his lines.  I think he might want to stick to modeling.  His acting was nothing more than a few guttural slurs that were almost indecipherable.

While he drags the movie down, Amanda Seyfried and Richard Jenkins did their best to elevate it to a lofty level.  The army brat (Channing), who apparently had a violent past, finds love in Amanda’s character and with Richard Jenkins doing an amazingly fantastic job as Channing’s father; the three spend two weeks getting to know each other.  Richard Jenkins is at his very best playing the father who suffers in silence from autism.  One catches on quickly with the constant references to meatloaf every Saturday and Lasagna every Sunday, without fail.

As you might expect, John (Channing Tatum) heads back to his day job and Savannah (Amanda) heads back to school stretching their romance to thousands of miles.  It starts out well with letters exchanging hands but eventually it gets too difficult for Savannah to handle.  After the planes did their damage in New York City John decided to re-enlist for another stint and what was supposed to be a 12 month separation begins to stretch into years.  There is a reason the movie is called “Dear John”.

The movie is filled with several sad scenes, struggles with handling the autism aspect and injects “true love’ into the mix.  While it wasn’t a bad movie it definitely was lacking something.  In my opinion it would be extremely difficult having much of a connection with a man (Channing Tatum) who can’t manage much more than looking good with his shirt off.  Whoever was in charge of the cast should be slapped on the wrist.  I change of actor in the lead male role would have done wonders with the chemistry.

Still, if you want a date movie this would be a fine one to pick.  All of the women would overlook bad acting for a cut six pack and you do get to see plenty of Channing topless.  Richard Jenkins deserves an Oscar nomination in my opinion for carrying so much of the emotional load of this movie as a supporting character.  I did not realize he was so gifted, but I thoroughly enjoyed seeing him in this character.

Overall, not bad but could have been much better.  It will have you crying, if you are a woman, or possibly and feminine male as I continue to be called from time to time.  I didn’t cry for the record so get off my back.

I’ve had a belly dance partner from the beginning. A dancer named Julz was my first partner. She was the one who dragged my ass out to classes and got my interest in belly dance sparked. I was such a novice at that time, and Julz was a great teacher. She taught me how to balance a sword, showed me floor work patterns, and introduced me to all sorts of music. Most importantly, she taught me how to choreograph as a team. As in, how to choreograph without arguing and biting each other’s heads off. It can be a challenge to compromise on your creative ideas, but the payoff is choreography that is often times much more interesting than what you would have come up with on your own.

Presently, I have a duet company with Alodiah Lunar called “Carousel Belly Dance”. Alodiah is another gem of a dance partner. Both she and I were at approximately the same skill level when we met, and due to our amazing temperaments (pat on the back), we’ve been able to work together on a pretty much equal basis. We have a natural symbiosis that results in an equal input of song and choreography ideas. Also, we have a tendency to feed off of each other’s momentum when we’re choreographing. We’ve choreographed whole songs in a matter of days! Now that’s team work. Another bonus is that we both like belly dancing to old jazz music. It’s made for some cute little numbers!

Last year in Costa Rica, I had the experience of being the teacher and working as a duo with my student, Molly- very much the reverse of Julz and I. Molly and I performed together at Chili Rojo-one of the local restaurants- and it was so nice to have a dance partner again after performing solo for several weeks. Seeing Molly grow and improve as a dancer and collaborating with her was so rewarding. It hit me that things had come full circle for me.

I flew into Costa Rica a few days ago, leaving Alodiah behind in San Francisco and Julz in Los Angeles. But I’m looking forward to seeing Molly again. After a year’s time, I’m sure she has become a completely different dancer. And I have a feeling that we’re going to put on some great shows.

(If you want to see the topless picks you have to jump to Zoo Today.  We can’t handle the exposure.  The heat burns our eyes.)

I say hands off because so many models cover up their frontal twins with their fingers clenched caressingly, hiding the assets.  In order to win this contest you had to go full bore exposure and apparently be a good twitter bug as well.  I have never been twittered by Natalie Pike but I am willing to try out the process and see how good of a flickerer she just might be.  Twitter me dee and twitter me doo, I might be old but I can twitter too.  Damn, just for the record I do not like green eggs and ham, and to hell with Sam.

So while Natalie is busy stroking her keys with her long twitted fingers, Cheech and Chong have apparently united in their life long cause of smoking weed and getting us to pay them for it.  I admit that writing is on about the same level.  I mean in both cases you sit in your underwear, never get out of bed and spend most of your day perusing porn on the internet.  I guess as a writer you remember the porn and as a pothead you forget most of what you have done when you wake up the next morning.  I should add that both occupations love their Twinkies as well.

Damn, those Twinkies pop up in almost every one of my posts lately.  It is almost as bad as those Catholics were a couple of months ago.  Remember when I couldn’t write a post without commenting on our pre adolescent fondling spiritual guides.  Now talk about a group of people who love their little Twinkies.  How are our favorite priests doing now a day?  We haven’t had a good groping scandal in about two months it seems.  Maybe they have finally learned to keep the door closed at Sunday school.

Hats off to Cheech and Chong.  Maybe they can bring LA back into this century and figure out who elected those damn city council members.  I bet we will discover one day the only reason they outlawed growing medical marijuana was their drug of choice was cocaine.  Is there anything medical that cocaine is good for?  Not that I condone the use of drugs.  At my age my biggest worry is squeezing the toothpaste from the bottom of the tube.  My girlfriend does not like bent tube.

Check out Duncan’s Diary: Birth of a Serial Killer on Amazon. It is a killer book.

You can find it on Kindle here  Duncan’s Dairy on Kindle.

“Honey, I’m sorry I wrecked the car.” “Mommy, I’m sorry I spilled grape juice all over the Oriental rug.” “I’m sorry I stole your idea, lied to the boss and told her it was mine.”

These are things for which I would feel totally appropriate accepting an apology.

But an apology from Tiger Woods regarding his having multiple affairs and potentially being a sex addict? Nah, I don’t need an “I’m sorry” for that one. I think I’ll be just fine without his mia culpa.

Yes, yes, I know that finding out that anyone (let alone a revered athlete) has cheated on his spouse with no fewer than 12 women offends the delicate sensibilities of the American culture. We’d all be horrified if someone in our immediate circles conducted themselves that way.

And, that’s just my point. In our immediate circles. But even then, if it’s not our spouse, father, mother, brother, sister, whatever, we don’t have the right to expect (nor should we get) an apology. The transgression didn’t hurt us in the slightest.

Now, I’m not defending what Tiger did. I think it’s lousy and shameful. I feel bad for his wife and his children — particularly the kids. Having a daddy who boinked nearly a baker’s dozen of women across the country will be humiliating as they get older.

But me? In my life? I have to give this the big “Whatev.” Sportscasters this morning were talking about how it would take a long time for the American people to forget about what Tiger has done and to forgive him. Until I saw the story about his public apology today, I hadn’t thought about his issues in a long, long time. This has not been the biggest thing going on in my life, I have to admit. And, for those of you who have been brooding over it — move on. You don’t get to judge him.

So, I’ll pass on the apology, Tiger. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.

What I do need from you, though, is for you to get your butt back on the golf course. You’re a golfer, and I expect you to play. You didn’t get famous for being a moral pinnacle. Your fame came from your ability to launch a drive 340 yards down the fairway. That’s what drew people to you in the first place.

Get it together, grab your clubs (maybe not the one your wife used to shatter your windshield) and step on the green.

It’s time to put the ball in the hole — the golf ball, that is.

Debra A most likely has looked fantastic since she was first conceived, if I am allowed to point out the obvious.  It doesn’t seem fair how some people are blessed with such natural talent while the rest of us wallow in our boxes of HoHo’s.  I was in a public mineral bath last night along with my girlfriend and two elderly couples.  One of the women, who were most likely both in their seventies, had the biggest lips I had ever seen.  I have no idea how much stuff had been squirted inside those puffy flappers but it did make me wonder whatever happened to aging gracefully.  Natural beauty is fantastic in our youth but as we grow older, wrinkles denoting maturity can be beautiful as well.

Damn, I sound like a romance novelist.  I am not sure what is happening lately with my writing.  Where is the guy who hated everything about everyone?  I used to like that guy.  The guy who would plow into friends, family and strangers pointing out the flaws of anyone who crossed my path, including now my teachers I might add.  According to “Wired.com” and their latest update we can lambast teachers as much as we like.  In some close decisions the courts have said it is a no no to suspend people for creating hate pages about our fellow man.

Sounds like we are opening up our ability to freely hate people in public instead of having to hide behind closed doors.  Now that is a freedom we should all enjoy.  I am tired of living in fear with the possibility of being ostracized for showing my disgust.  We should all embrace our God given right to sit at home in our recliners pointing fingers, blaming and updating our facebook status with animosity for our fellow man.  What else can be more uplifting?  Just don’t wail on Debra A too harshly.  She is one of the beautiful people, and I don’t want her to feel the wrath of Kahn.  That should be reserved for us common folk.

Sometimes I feel like a nut and sometimes we should be nice to everyone no matter whom or what they look like.  Then again sometimes we should be able to openly show our animosity for people as well.  Just keep it in words.  Stick and stones hurt like hell and we want to hold our civility intact.  How else can call ourselves civilized.  Donald Duck might hate everyone on the planet but he doesn’t resort to physical violence.  Can’t we all just play nice?

Check out Duncan’s Diary: Birth of a Serial Killer on Amazon. It is a killer book.

You can find it on Kindle here  Duncan’s Dairy on Kindle.

Still, if you have the natural good looks that Jessica Boughers exudes, it is no wonder she can do whatever she sets her mind to.  Assuming that she uses her other more obvious assets at the same time.  If I were blessed with assets like Jessica exudes, I might not ever leave my house.  I would probably spend most of my time in front of a mirror admiring the gifts that were so readily bestowed on my undeserving soul.  I guess that is why guys are built differently.  We just don’t possess the mental fortitude to handle certain things.

As self confident as Jessica Boughers appears, my guess is she grew up in an environment that afforded her a feeling of stability.  We all love our grandparents but those damn old people are getting into trouble it appears.  According to an article in the BBC if your kids head over to grandparents for some after school care giving, they might get more than you bargained for.  Grandparents are 34% more likely to fatten up the little toddlers than other forms of child care.  Those damn chocolate chip cookies grandmas make are killing our youth it seems.

Hasn’t anyone ever heard of an apple?  Now that we are pushing our kids to lighten up, even Grandma is getting a slap on the wrist.  I wonder if “Silent Bob’s” grandparents played a part in raising him as a toddler.  Southwest must think so since they booted the dude off one of their planes.  Kevin Smith might be famous but according to “The Dispatch”, even famous people are getting the heave ho for being obese.  Damn, I love my snack cakes and my grandma, does this mean I need to push them both off the train.

It appears that not only have the Obama’s killed capitalism in our fare country they are now trying to kill our appetites as well.  I wonder if Michelle takes her own advice and watches her waistline as much as she watches little Joey’s down the street.  I guess if we end up saving as much money as the government thinks we can by trimming the fat from our children, we can afford to buy a few more banks and hand out yearend bonuses.  Damn, is it me or does our politics seem to have gone all to hell in a bread basket, or got lost in the cake batter?  I can’t be sure.

Sometimes I feel like a nut and sometimes it is nice to see cheerleaders like Jessica Boughers who can be bad girls as well.  Didn’t anyone ever wonder why “Super Girl” wore that little red skirt?  Come on dudes, she didn’t even have tights on.  Don’t tell me you didn’t have dreams of eating “Little Red Riding Hood’s” sugar cookies.

Check out Duncan’s Diary: Birth of a Serial Killer on Amazon. It is a killer book.

You can find it on Kindle here  Duncan’s Dairy on Kindle.