Tag Archives: Leslie Hassler

So, what kind of ‘tipsy’ is tipsy Armitage? I admit I’d like to know, wouldn’t you?

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I found this little chart on Pinterest and saved it. For what it’s worth, I’m glad to see I am a happy drunk rather than a sad one.

Earlier I was filling out some of the gazillion forms required for my neurologist appointment Wednesday. Among the many other health-related questions, I was asked how much alcohol I consume on average–how many drinks and how many days a week.  I asked Benny, “Uhm–do you think drinking something alcoholic roughly once or twice every couple of years would be the equivalent of ‘never,’ kiddo?”  He agreed.

Now, I haven’t always been such a Sober Sallie. In my long-ago college days, when the legal drinking age was 19 instead of 21, I did imbibe (albeit in the safety of our on-campus apartment and not out roaming the streets). And purportedly, I was very entertaining when I got tipsy. Silly and giggly and quite a lot of fun.

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I think my widow was definitely a sad drunk. Probably a Pisces, since she drank like a fish.

A couple of years ago, I played a rich widow in a mystery dinner theater production. This lady liked her liquor a little too much and started making a lot of accusatory remarks about certain acquaintances before she ended up dead in the library. Afterwards, I was told I made a very believable drunk and I suspect from the sly glances they gave me that some people thought I did indulge . . . but as I told them, “Really, it’s all a matter of observation–and distant memory.”                                                            

So all of this got me to thinking, “What’s Richard Armitage like when he’s had a little too much to drink?” Is he giggly, jokey, playful? Somehow I can’t see him as the mean and moody type . . .

He’s told us a couple of drinks at a club turn him into “an animal on the dance floor.” Mmmmm, I’d like to see that. Richard taking off his jacket, loosening his tie, and with a slightly wicked grin, stepping onto the dance floor . . . and extending a hand to you to join him.

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Remember these moves from his 2003 promo shoot for “Cold Feet?” Somehow I suspect that genial dorkiness just might show itself in a tipsy Armitage tripping the light fantastic.  Or how about some sexy snake hips tango, purportedly his favorite? Mmmmmmmmmm . . .

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If you’ll dance with me, Mr. A, I’m there with you!

 

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He’d apparently been indulging a bit at the Saturn Awards before receiving his trophy for his performance as Thorin and it certainly looked like he was having fun that night.  One could fantasize about having a right old Bacchanalia with this chap  . . .

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Or a little dirty dancing, maybe? *wibble*

 

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And just look at RA and his cast mates on the final day of Hobbit filming (July 23, 2013). Oh yes, there’s been some partying. An RA looks as if he’s full of mischief! Mischievous Armitage, I like.

 

 

Tipsy Armitage. It is such an appealing idea to me . . .

Guyday Friday: Guy hears LW’s dream about the CReAtor

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Source: Getty Images~ Photographer Leslie Hassler

Ladywriter stretched, wincing as the Shoulder/Neck/Jaw Thingy flared.  A night of erratic sleep and too little of it, with rain on the way. It was going to be a long day. Still, she had a smile on her face.

That was a nice dream about Richard Armitage . . .

“Oh, really . . .” A familiar chocolate-laced baritone rumbled from the corner.

LW slid her glasses into place, Sir Guy’s knowing smirk coming into focus. He was a sight for sleep-deprived eyes–kohl-rimmed peepers, artfully tousled mane, snug Marvel of Engineering trousers and all.

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Source: Richard Armitage Net

“There you go, Sir Guy, reading my thoughts again.” She raised one brow, her mouth twisting wryly, and firmly shook her disheveled head. “However . . . it was not a naughty dream, for your information.”

He gave a sniff of his handsome aquiline proboscis and shrugged. “Well, my lady, my powers are not perfect . . .”

But lots of other things about you are.

This time he got his reading right.  “You are feeling frisky this morning in spite of your pain, my lady,” he purred, tilting his head and flashing those excellent white teeth.

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My edit of a screencap via RA Net

“Sooooo—tell me about your–chaste–dream, my lady.”

She sighed and wrapped her arms around her knees, gingerly resting her chin on top. “In the dream, I am acting with the CReAtor . . . me. With Richard Armitage. In some sort of film.” LW gave a small satisfied squee.

“I am playing someone who’d been kidnapped for ransom and it turns out RA is the person who is trying to get me back safely . . .” LW laughed and shrugged.

“Only, what with it being a dream, I do not know the actor will be RA until just before we are to play this scene together in which we are reunited! I look through the glass doors as the wardrobe and makeup people are checking me over and, well–there he is, looking all intense and angsty and, of course, gorgeous in this long navy coat and nape curls and stubble . . . fully in character to shoot this dramatic scene.”

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Photography by Leslie Hassler

Sir Guy folded his arms across his broad chest. “And what do you do when you see it is the CReAtor?”

“I have two immediate thoughts, my dearest dark knight. First–‘OMG, it’s Richard Freakin’ Armitage as my screen partner!’ And second–and this sort of surprises me–I think, ‘Wow, I am SOOO going to act my socks off and impress the heck out of him, oh yes I AM.”  And so I go out there–and I ACT!”

She gave a smile of girlish delight, her eyes sparkling behind her specs. “And you know what? I am good. I really am good. I can tell he thinks so, too.”

LW sighed again, her brow creasing. “I can only hope it’s a good omen for next Thursday–when Emma the tipsy widow and murder victim-to-be makes her debut.”

Ladywriter rubbed her tender jaw. “Things were a bit rocky last night at the rehearsals. I actually did OK–but my cast mates were struggling in the second act. Went through it four times. Made me glad I–uhm, ‘Emma’– was ‘dead’ by then.”

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“Your band of players, you all must believe in yourselves, my lady.” Sir Guy smiled at her. “Not unlike the way you believe–in me.” He gave a courtly bow.  “And, of course, in the CReAtor.”

“Sir Guy–I’d like for you to be there next week. You and Mr. Ladywriter.”

He raised his dark brows. “I do not possess a ticket, and is not the event sold out?”

“Yes–but that’s OK.” She grinned. “I am, after all, the only one who will see you.”

LW leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. “It will be our little secret.”

Sir Guy chuckled. “Excellent . . .”

Dreams are like boxes of chocolates. You just never know what you are gonna get . . .  Happy Guyday Friday!

I wouldn’t mind dreaming about THIS either . . .

c2guyheartMy edit of an image courtesy of RA Net