And I totally agree. *thud*
NOT that I need to tell you all that.
Nobody does it better–wouldn’t you agree?
And when he’s sweaty and disheveled and DIRT-TY.
I had a very lazy day today. It rained pretty much all day long . . . and I could never get motivated to do a great deal except rest the sore, aching knee, play with the cats and snooze a bit. Dreamed about banquets with hot dogs and ham and vast amounts of candles on the tables, and oversleeping and missing a 7 a.m. arrival time at an event, which put me in a panic. Happily it was just a dream.
Meanwhile, in RL, it looks as if we will be shooting a dance recital next weekend in two parts, a ballet of “Cinderella” and then a tap/jazz portion. It’s not a huge school so the event won’t drag out for hours and hours as these things can (having been to my niece’s recitals at her large Birmingham school). And the letters were posted today to the high school seniors’ parents re the graduation package we will be offering, Yes, May is looking pretty busy. And, one hopes, lucrative. Have a wonderful weekend!
It’s a glorious day in the neighborhood–Lower Alabama, that is. The gray skies and rain and damp have gone, replaced by cerulean blue and blessedly lower humidity. Enjoyed a little jaunt out with the dogs, who are enjoying the warmth of the sunshine. Jack in particular is in a jolly mood today.
A nap will be in order a little later–stayed up too late reading the Bronte book and trying to pry my cats from my side and legs. I am too restless a sleeper for furry attachments.;) In the meantime, enjoy a second installment of SSS–Super Sexy Saturday. Sssssssmokin’!
One word. Erotic.
Mmmmmmmm. Porter as diamond smuggler John Dean. Love everything here–the look of intense concentration, the elfin ear, the beautiful hand, the wristwatch. The way the lighting accentuates those beautiful lips. Heap sexy man.
Half-mad, dirty, disheveled, wild-eyed, wounded animal . . . speaks volumes to my inner caveman. Sexxxxxxy.
Sexy nineteenth century mill owner style. Cravats have never looked better on (or off) anyone else.
Ricky Deeming. Enigmatic. Defiant. Rebellious. And dead sexy. The black leather doesn’t hurt, either.
How about Lucas as a dark angel in his black singlet? Beautiful and so sexy. *sigh*
Sir Guy isn’t the only one who can smoulder oh, so beautifully. The proud warrior–the majestic and deliciously sexy Thorin Oakenshield. Thinking of you, Bechep.
After last night’s storms, a quiet, cooler day with humidity below 50 percent. This is a good thing. Doing knee strengthening exercises as I put this entry together. They aren’t all that much fun, but looking at Sir Guy is. The lashes, the stubble, the delicately-shaped lips that curve into such delicious smirks, the intensity of his gazes, the curls at the nape of his neck, the tousled mane . . . yup, those knees are hurting just a little less now. *sigh* Happy Guyday Friday, dear ones.
I quite like peacocks. Wouldn’t mind having some out here except the dogs would like not give them any peace. Those gorgeous shades of green and blue, such a feast for the eyes!. Our late, lamented cat Smokie used to sit outside the hall closet door and cry for the large peacock feather (purchased at a cat show we attended) that she knew was tucked away inside there. Fantastic kitty fun!! That pussy loved her peacock plume!
I like peacocks so much I have some peacock-related items on the way:
To give my updos a bit of color, two of these peacock hair clips.
And for those moments when hot flashes hit or it’s simply a sticky summer’s day in south Alabama, how lovely it will be to whip out this pretty, peacock-ish hand fan and cool down in style.
Peacock earrings, for those times I want a bit of bling. All the above not likely to be worn/used at once.
But what, pray tell, do all these things have to do with Sir Guy?
Well, wouldn’t you say our proud, vain, beautiful henchman was just a wee bit of a peacock?
Just as a male peacock would do, Sir Guy likes to present his–er–plumage and show it off for the ladies. He knows what they want to see. And he’s quite proud of it.
In honor of Sir Guy and Guyday Friday, here’s my little tongue-in-cheek captioned fanvid tribute to not just the Hot Velvet Henchman, but several of the CReAtor’s delectable characters.
“Whatcha waiting for, it’s time for you to show it off–
“Come on baby, let me see what you’re hiding underneath. . .”
Such masculine beauty in the midst of all your angst, my beloved dark knight.
As if. They will never learn. Of course, Sir Guy, you DO look very ”come-hither” in your medieval go-go cage. Just sayin’ . . .
Menacing can be really sexy with the right equipment. And he’s got *it.*
Yes, I do believe the CReAtor read for the roles of both Sir Guy and Vasey. No offense, Keith, but I believe Mr. A would have had us even more enthralled with the Dark Side. But then–we’d have missed out on the six feet two inches of black leather-clad bodaciosity known as Sir Guy.
Says it all. Happy Guyday Friday!
The majestic warrior prince who guided his people to a new home after a devastating attack; now seeking to reclaim his homeland. We’d follow Thorin Oakenshield anywhere. And provide him with plenty of TLC.
Savvy, smart, rescourceful sergeant who kicks arse and takes the time to be tender. We’d want John Porter to come and rescue us if we ended up in a terrible jam. Or let us give a nice soothing massage . . . to all those big, buff knotted muscles.
Sir Guy, the beautiful, complex henchman who smoulders like nobody’s business and puts his own life on the line to protect and save the woman he loves . . . too bad she never appreciated him properly (not even after he returned to Nottingham to fight and die by her side if necessary). We would have done better!
Lucas, cool, enigmatic and sexy spy, haunted by the torture and deprivation of years in Russian prison but still loyal to his country (don’t believe everything certain writers dish out). We’d love to help him move past the pain.
Another engimatic character, black leather-clad rebel 6os biker, Geordie Ricky Deeming, who knows how to make our motors race. We’d like to hop on the back of his bike for a spin . . .
The handsome, hard working Victorian mill owner who seeks to improve himself and discovers a foolish passion for a certain demure young lady. We’d have made up our minds about you much sooner, John Thornton. What a catch!
John Strandring, shy Yorkshire farmer with a heart of gold, a gentle giant. No wonder we call him Sweetie John. Beautiful inside and out, our John is faithful and steadfast. We long to make him feel loved and appreciated . . .
“Whot . . . no–vertically challenged hirsute would-be king appearing today?” The dark knight drawled, a glint of amusement in his kohl-rimmed blue eyes as he lounged against the door frame.
“It’s Guyday Friday, so I’d say it’s pretty much all about the six feet, two inches of smouldering testosterone-laden medieval gorgeousness,” Ladywriter replied insouciantly, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
Sir Guy rubbed his aquiline nose and gave a small yet manly sniff. “I wasn’t certain–after all, it seems it’s been Thorin Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday AND Thursday here at the blog, my lady.” There was a note of accusation beneath the sarcasm in the rumbling voice. Did she detect a hint of sadness in those mesmerizing eyes?
Ladywriter wriggled just a little uncomfortably. She had rather wallowed in all things Hobbity and Thorin-y. But with the big DVD release and new featurettes with so much Thorin goodness, wasn’t it only to be expected? Still, Sir Guy could be a little–sensitive at times.
“I promise–lots of Guy art, Guy vids, Guy goodness on the schedule for today.” She smiled and tilted her head. “Along with—strawberry rum cake. Moist and flavorful–with a kick.”
Both eyebrows raised, Sir Guy’s mouth curled into a delighted smirk. “Just for me?”
Sir Guy swiftly came to her side and pressed a hearty kiss to her forehead. Ladywriter released an inner “squee.”
“I’ll wager HE didn’t get a cake . . .” And with a triumphant grin, Sir Guy strutted out, ready to enjoy a large slice of cake with a milk chaser.
Ladywriter smiled to herself. “Only for you, Sir Guy, only for you . . . my first Armitage hero.” She sighed. “And you’ll always be my first ChaRActer love.”