Cult objects of desire are always disappointing, with one exception.

Make-up artist Pat McGrath’s lipsticks really are the most wonderful thing in the whole world (right after babies, of course!)

They are everything you ever hoped for in a lipstick, and more. The case is adorable and kind of stupid, with a nice heft and a good confirmatory click. The pigment is unbelievably rich. It glides on like silk underpants. I don’t know, I made that part up. But it is definitely silky, smooth and light as a whisper. I can’t write this kind of crap! What does “light as a whisper” mean? It feels light, okay? Here’s a bunch of literary similes for “light as…”

It is so dope, you won’t resent spending $38 for it. You will THANK IT for only costing $38. Tom Ford lipstick is $54, not that I would ever consider buying it. All his sickening fragrances smell like room-spray, as I’m sure you all know.

I got the MatteTrance color Elson, a deep blue red. If you don’t like a matte formula, there are creamy colors too.

You can order online at Sephora or find it in real life at ‘select’ stores. You can also get it at Pat McGrath’s website, where I borrowed this picture.*

*My husband said it looks just like my bathroom! What greater compliment can a woman ask for?

I was looking for my birth certificate today and while searching through drawers of documents, I came across several treasures. Needless to say, I still can’t find my birth certificate but I did find a little spiral notebook with nothing in it but a scrawled missive in my own handwriting that began:

“It was a dark and stormy night, maybe not stormy, but definitely nighttime. Bob Saget paced distractedly in the dim light of his study.”

It goes on for two pages, in the same silly mode. It made me laugh out loud. It reminded me of the Bob Saget Incident.

Years ago, I worked for an enterprise that shared an office suite with Bob Saget. Bob rarely used his office. In fact it was empty, furnished only with some clumsy paintings on one wall. It was a huge office with a nice polished wood floor. When I didn’t have anything better to do, I would roll in there in my leather office chair and race it back and forth across the room. I think I tried to get people to join me in a game of Murderball but no one ever wanted to.

One day, Bob appeared and introduced himself in a low-key, friendly manner. “Hi, I’m Bob,” he said. He asked me if I’d noticed the paintings and revealed that his daughter was the artist. I now realized that they were copies of the Mona Lisa and some other famous work, Van Gogh or something. I liked him for being so proud of his kid.

I only saw Bab Saget that one time. But one day, the mail arrived and included a package addressed to Bob. The wrapping was distinctive; it was something from Mrs. Beasley’s. The package was small but heavy. I was intrigued. Intrigued isn’t actually the right word. I was covetous. There was obviously something delicious in there, and I was bored and hungry.

I showed the package to a colleague who shared my excitement. I announced that I had made an Executive Decision, and opened the package.

Sure enough, it was packed with pastries: Lemon bars, gingerbread, four different kinds of pastries, all sprinkled with powdered sugar. I took a bite of one and nearly passed out from pleasure.

I took the box into my office, where my boss, who we will call ‘Ed,’ was horrified by my indecency. He was beside himself. What the hell was I thinking? What if Bob found out? I managed to calm him down and reassured him that no one could ever prove anything.

Later, Ed returned to my office to remind me about the dinner party he was having that night. I told him I’d be there. “Bring those pastries,” he said imperiously.

I don’t know where you live, but Los Angeles is hot and sweaty in August. I need a Houseboy to fan me while I sip a cold drink. Jo Dong Hyuk looks like a highly accomplished Houseboy, don’t you think?

But look at Greg Kheel.

Greg seems like a versatile Houseboy who wouldn’t mind dressing up if the situation demands. In fact, I would be happy to let him raid my closet when he’s done with his chores.

Finally, there’s Renato Ferreira.

He’s young, sure, but I think he would bring a spirituality to his tasks. He can even wear the necklace if it  doesn’t  get in the way.

See anything you like?

*If you know of any worthy houseboys of this caliber, feel free to submit pictures to sisterwolf666@gmail.com and I can include  them  with  the next batch.

I’ve tried to include Houseboys for all tastes but in fact they are all my favorites for this week. They can serve drinks and do odd jobs around the house, like fluff up your pillows.

Take your pick and have a relaxing weekend.   xo

He’s hot, Asian, and androgynous.

He’s friends with Andrej. Maybe they talk about their hair?

If the Lord didn’t want me to long for David Chiang, He wouldn’t have given me eyes.

This one’s a little David Lee Roth, and yet….it works.

Miles is nothing but pure yummy. Remember?

Right?

This one is making me forget about Miles. He’s a model from the Gilded Age SS-11 runway show, but I feel certain he’s also highly intelligent.

Who can resist a man in a wedding gown?! Not me.

~

Tomorrow I’m going to gather the Clueless Goth contestants, so hurry up if you want to get in on it. (I may even try it myself if I can get off my ass for a change.)

He’s young but he’s 6′ 1″ with green eyes.

Is it wrong to love Miles McMillen? Maybe for you it is!

At times, it suits them, don’t you think?

Meet the next Johnny Depp. His name is Karl and he’s only 18. But he’s 6′ 2″.   He has “walked” for John Galliano and he can walk for me in my dreams seems like a very nice young man.

What’s not to love about Karl?