Elle Severe Presents

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Past Loves of My Life, Part III: The Wonder Years, 1984 – 1987

In Life, Past Loves, TV Addict on September 25, 2012 by Elle Severe

 

Alright, alright, all 6 of my fans have spoken, so, back by popular demand: Past Loves, Part 3, The Wonder Years.  I’m doing my best to keep this chronological but be aware that the latter part of the 80’s is a hazy blur of pot smoke and raging hormones, so it might get messy.  Also, please note that this is just part 1 of Part III – I was very, very busy in the late 80’s.

Let’s just jump right in: Don Johnson.  Okay, that’s it.  Done.  No? You need me to expound? Welllll, if you insist:

Do not make direct eye contact or your pants will fall off.

This guy….man oh man, this guy…I cannot tell you what he did to me.  He made me ache down there.  The stubble, the Versace, the come-f*ck-me eyes, the ex girlfriends, the children out of wedlock, the drinking problem…all combined to make the most sexy piece of ass to ever come out of Wichita, Kansas.   I love, love, LOVED this guy.  Want to know a secret? I still do.

 

Sleeveless pastel t-shirt? Yes please.

1984 saw the rise of a little show set in Miami called Miami Vice.  The show had a pulsating soundtrack that was rhythmically linked to my hormones; the second the opening notes of the theme music began throbbing, so did my lady flower.  This show was edgy, had hot music, crime lords, drug cartels and sexy cops.  It was considered to be a ground-breaking show.  It heavily utilized the colors aqua and pink and caused common-folk to know how to properly pronounce Versace.  Don Johnson starred as scruffy-but-sexy, emotionally damaged Sonny Crockett and he set me on fire.  No matter where I was, what I was doing, and who I was with, I was home on Friday night by 10pm to watch this show.  I didn’t care if people thought I wasn’t cool.  Those idiots didn’t even know what cool was.   Cool was Sonny F*cking Crockett.  Who knows, Miami Vice may have saved me from being on an 80’s version of this show:

 

Thank you Sexy Late 80’s Don Johnson.

My walls were plastered with Miami Vice posters.

Find me something sexier. Go ahead, I officially challenge you.

He made smoking seem sexy.

This on the wall opposite my bed. It was the first thing I saw in the morning and the last thing I saw at night…sigh…

His character had a pet alligator named Elvis.  I had a pet goldfish named Elvis. See how connected we were?

Don just oozed sexuality out of every pore of his beautiful body.  I used to wonder if I produced enough saliva to lick his entire body.  I think I could have done it.  I loved his gravelly voice and the way he spoke, his eyes, his lips…I loved every inch of him…what I didn’t love was when he released a single called “Heartbeat”, it was pretty awful.  A touch embarrassing for everyone involved.  The video was even more upsetting; I actually don’t want to talk about this anymore…let’s just focus on the positive! Don Johnson is a sexy mothereffer.  And I maintain that he still is to this day.  I’m so happy that he is enjoying a resurgence.  He’s actually a fairly decent actor.  Have you ever seen The Long Hot Summer? Watch both the original with Paul Newman or the remake with Donnie, either way you can’t go wrong.

Rumor has it that he is packing some serious heat.

Let’s take a quick break here and cool off.  Or maybe not…I’d like to treat you, my faithful readers, to a little somethin’ somethin’ I like to call:

Fifty Shades of Pastel

I was 17 and I lived in Coral Gables, Florida, skinny and blonde, of course.  Just a nice, normal, sweet neighbor kid hired by the actor Don Johnson to be a nanny to his son Jesse for the summer.  I would spend the hot, humid, long days in days in  my red bikini or my white cover up tending to little Jesse.  I was endearing and young and unintentionally sexy as only an innocent 17 year old girl can be.  Unbeknownst to me, Don would watch me from time to time and over the course of that lazy, hazy, long, hot summer he fell in love in with me…but our love was forbidden because I was 17 and he was 38, so he did nothing.  And then one day I could feel him watching me, and I turned and saw him and even though in real life it would be creepy, in fake life it was super sexy and in his eyes I saw all I needed to know, and so in slow motion I moved toward him, and as I walked I slowly began removing my bikini and as I got closer I started to speak but he put his finger to my lips and whispered “shhhhhh” and thus began our Summer of Forbidden Love.  We touched and teased and tempted one another.  We fell deeply in love and even deeper in lust.  Like all things, it had to end.  I had been accepted to Harvard and was leaving in early September to start my new life in Cambridge. The thought of leaving him was unbearable…from the moment I stepped on that plane I knew my life was over.  I ached for him.  Nothing would ever be the same.  When my new roommate asked me how I spent my summer I couldn’t answer her, I choked on my tears and I said “I just nannied, what’d you do” and drifted off into fantasy land as she prattled on about summer on Nantucket and getting groped by some Kennedy cousin.  My classmates seemed so young and naive to me; after all, I was a woman, I was no typical freshman.  I had been taught in the fine art of love making by a skilled master.  Standing at a kegger with Harvard blueblood frat boys seemed so vapid to me.   I missed him fiercely but we ceased all communication.  He wanted me to “move on”, to “experience college” and “have a real boyfriend”…but every once in a while, usually around the exact time when my heart couldn’t take another second without him, an envelop would arrive in the mail…and I would stand there in the foyer of my dorm, suddenly shivering and chilled by both the Winter air and the promise of what was inside that envelop…I would hold that envelop in my mitten-ed hands as long as I could stand it…shaking, knowing…my roommate would call to me “Elle, Elle, are you okay”, but she would sound distant and lost to me and I would mumble, “Yeah” and then I would take off my mittens and I would fumble to open the envelop, scared to read it and scared not to read it, knowing all the while that whatever it said was going to ruin me for the foreseeable future…and it would always be the same; one line meant to invoke that summer, that time, those feelings, those touches, those private, dark, beautiful intimate moments between us…”I miss the evening sun glowing on your naked body” or “I can still smell you” or “I remember I licked my finger and ran it down your spine and you trembled”,  “Your wet body shimmered in the pool that night” or “how do I stop thinking about you, do you ever think about me?”…and in that moment, I shake from head to toe, both from the memories of the ecstasy, to the pain of the loss.  Then I run out of my dorm and into the Yard and I sink into the snow knees first and then I collapse…I roll around and I make a snow angel and all the while I’m laughing and crying and hysterical and in pain because for those 3 short months, I loved him, deeply; I lived him, but oh how I loved him…Oh Donnie, I miss you so…

Take that EL James, you friggin “cheeky” fraud.  You’re not the only one who can write shitty high school porn.  Moving on.

Whenever I see a pic of DJ I want to send him a letter:

Dear Don,

Do you like pina coladas? The dunes on the Cape? Do you like makin’ love at midnight? Gettin’ caught in the rain? Me too. Call me.

Love you!

Elle

Like a fine wine, he is aging beautifully.

He recently showed up on my most favorite show ever, Eastbound and Down, and  I almost fell out of my chair.  It reminded me how much I missed him. Oh my God.  He is still a tasty treat, albeit an older tasty treat, but a tasty treat nonetheless.

Hi Baby, You still look so good to me.

Speaking of Eastbound and Down, I am embarrassed to say that I would totally do it with Kenny Powers, even though I think we all know he’s lousy in bed.  I wouldn’t tell anyone I had done it with him and if asked, I would deny.

Best Kenny Powers quote: “Work drugs”. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve had that very same thought.

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Rant: Summer is NOT Over

In Life, Musings, Rants on September 7, 2012 by Elle Severe

On Saturday while driving home from Old Silver beach in Falmouth, we lost a boogie board.  I didn’t get too upset about this because I knew the Christmas Tree Shop would have a ton of them.  On Sunday I drove by the Christmas Tree Shop just to make sure; sure enough, that bin full of them that’s been out there since May is still there.  However, the very next day, Monday, Labor Day, September 3, in the early evening, approximately 6:00pm, guess what? They were gone.  Not ONE f*cking boogie board to be found.

FYI, Christmas Tree Shops, summer ends on September 21st.

In fact, not even the slightest vestige of summer was left…not a tube or spray can of cheap sunblock to lube up the kids with, not a bag of decorative seashells or sea glass that would make such a lovely centerpiece at your beach themed wedding in Falmouth later this month for only 99 cents a bag! No oversized nautical themed canvas tote just perfect for all your beach towels, no $40 beach carriage that everyone had this summer, not one piece of white Nantucket furniture that would look super cute in a guest room if you had a guest room, no 10 for $1.99 plastic lobster plates complete with bibs just perfect for a late summer lobster boil, not one bright, colorful, cheap beach towel or a plastic bucket sand castle playset for $4.99, no starfish candle holders…I mean, NOTHING! It was as if summer never happened!  It smelled of cinnamon and apples and I swear to you that it even felt a little crisp and cool in there – I was furious! This place was Fall from head to toe! Front to back! Top to bottom! Pumpkins, autumn wreaths, orange, black, maroon…as far as the eye could see.  WHAT. THE. F*CK.  It was still Labor Day – not even the day after Labor Day, but Labor Day itself! It was almost like the Grinch Who Stole Summer came in and wiped out Summer and left Fall in its place.  I’m thinking that they had the overnight crew come in at 7pm on Sunday and worked straight through until Monday morning putting up all the Fall stuff.  It was BEYOND disturbing.  But that’s okay, so fine, as far as the Christmas Tree Shop is concerned, summer is over around noon-ish on Labor Day, duly noted.

To ease my annoyance I headed over to Dunkin Donuts.  Guess What? HOT APPLE CIDER, that’s what.   Oh yeah.  Signs plastered all over the place talking about “Goodbye Summer, Hello Fall Flavors!”, hey Dunks, get effed.  How am I going to enjoy my my Hot Apple Cider or my orange Pumpkin Dunkachino when it’s almost 80 degrees out? Didja think of that Dunks? Sidebar: my two traitor kids absolutely love the new munchkin flavors, apple orchard and pumpkin.  Aholes.

Pumpkin struesel muffin my ass. (don’t be mad Muffin, I just said that to seem tough, I’ll see you on the 21st, wear something pretty, love you, shhhh)

After Dunks betrayed me I headed over to Shaw’s where I was promptly greeted with this sign:

COME ONNNNNNNNNNNN!

I’m still tan! I do NOT get my flu shot until my summer color has faded, that’s my new rule! This is RIDICULOUS.

And you know what didn’t help my cause? The fact that it was rainy and gray on Tuesday when we all had to head back to work.  Thanks a lot.  It was like the weather was like “Alright guys, the Christmas Tree Shop and Dunks have decided that summer is over, so go get your flu shot, here’s some rain, peace out”.  Nothing like adding to the misery.

The thing is, we’re in New England, why are we in a rush to end summer? You know it’s going to be over soon enough.  As my friend Chelsea pointed out the other day, we only get about 8-9 weeks AT MOST of real summer weather! Now believe me, I get it, it’s hot, it’s muggy, it’s annoying.  And I’m overweight so in the summer I’m sticky and moist starting on or around May 28th right on up through September 30th, so I understand better than most.  To add to that, I have two September babies.  This means that I have been pregnant; really, really, really heavily pregnant two times in the dead of summer.  In 2010 when I was pregnant for the second time (cause apparently I didn’t learn my lesson the first time), we had the most God awful stretch of heat where it was like 10 days straight days of 98 degrees with 100% humidity.  I would go to my OB and beg and cry to be induced.  It was so bad and I was so uncomfortable that I contemplated coming up with some cockamamie story about how I was going to hurt myself if they didn’t do an emergency c-section.  But then I got scared they would do it but keep the baby because I was cuckoo.  Then I got even more scared that even thinking up this plan was cuckoo.  The combination of the pregnancy and the heat made me legitimately crazy.  My point is that I have been emotionally scarred and traumatized by summer, yet I cannot and will not let it go until it’s officially over and that my friends, is on September 21st.  Hell, I’m trying to figure out if I can still squeeze in another Cape visit.  If that doesn’t work I’m going to hit up Nan-trash-basket and ride some waves and maybe hit the damn carousel, get a hot dog, maybe some cotton candy.  You can sip on your pumpkin struedul half caf decaf nonsense, I’m drinking some more lemonade  because as far as I’m concerned, I’m going to goof off and act summer-y for 15 more days.  If you want to go apple-picking or some sh!t, call someone else.

Weight limit? No? Good.

Like I said, I get it, I really do,  it’s gross out and you just want to cool off for a bit.  But that’s why God made pools.  Or the ocean.  And remember this one very important truth I’m about to share with you, ready, here it is: the rest of the year sucks.  It usually rains from March 1st until June 30th, then we get sun for 8-9 weeks, then we get precisely 4 weeks of Fall and then it’s Winter.  For like 8 months.  So come on, will ya? And make no mistake, this winter is going to be ugly.  You remember last year how nice Winter was? How we had 60 degree days in December? Yeah, you liked that didn’t you? Guess what? That was a freak show.  That will NEVER happen again.  You really think God’s going to let us  get away with that two years in row? Remember the Winter 2010 into 2011? Snowmageddon ring a bell? Yeah, don’t get cocky.  Don’t sleep on the weather.  We only got a break this year because of that hellish 2010-2011 Winter and also God knew he was going to f*ck with us regarding the Sox so he decided to be nice to us.

There was nothing fun about this.

The irony of this is that I LOVE the Fall.  Yeah, I really do.  I love apple-picking, baking pies, burning Macintosh scented Yankee Candles, the smell of cinnamon and spices, drinking apple cider by the gallon, sweaters and boots, nice walks in the evening and the color brown…and I will enjoy all of those things…on September 21st.  I’m even planning to try out those pumpkin and apple munchkins, but not until September 21st.

yay.

If we were in Ireland, this rushing into Fall would be fine because summer ends on August 1 over there, but we’re NOT in Ireland.  We’re in Boston and we have until Setpember 21st.  So instead of groaning that summer is over, why don’t you go outside and enjoy these last 15 days.  Meet me at ‘Tasket, I’ll be the only freak in the water, join me so I’m not so lonely.

It’s not THAT cold…