Joe hill

So I had my first up close and personal celebrity experience this weekend – a bookstore event with Joe Hill! He read from his new book, answered questions and engaged everyone in a sing along before signing books.
The staff set up everyone in an ordely fashion for the signing so he could personalize a message. What could I possibly ask him to write? I could think of nothing witty and he ended up resorting to a standard three word sentence that was actually only two words. He handed me the book and we looked at each other. We both said a variation of “thanks a bunch” and then I left. What was I supposed to say or do? He’s heard it all, I’d expect, and I was too star-struck and excited to spit out anything original.
We saw Sandra Bullock at Disneyland last year, she was over there with her squad and probably trying to avoid a toddler meltdown like the rest of us. So I know celebs are just regular joes like everyone else, but I’d like to be able to say something kick ass next time instead of biting my tongue.
At the time, obviously, everyone there was pretty dang excited and I wondered how excited the bookstore lady was since she was wearing cool stockings that looked like lace-up boots to mid-thigh with a cute red mini skirt, plus an off-the-shoulder shirt complete with fashionably visible black bra strap. Maybe she wears that to work everyday because she’s a sexy book nerd and she works in Portland so, whatevs, but I’m not going to assume that there’s not some after party on a book tour where the groupies line up, because hello, book nerds unite and mighty pens and swords and all that. Anyway.
I finished the day with a short tour of the local fire station with a friend who apparently “doesnt work with any hot firemen” which is bullshit. It was a suitable finish to the day.
Phew! Is it hot in here?

Positions of Or-thora-tie

As a coincidence, we randomly watched Southpark the other night because we couldn’t find the remote and it was the episode when Officer Barbrady declared himself illiterate and Cartman went all Eric Estrada on everyone and couldn’t handle anyone challenging his authority.
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I wish I had taken a selfie with my ride-along officer and the Estrada poster in the police station but I thought they’d tell me to piss off, so that opportunity went begging. It might also have left through the front door whilst giving me the finger because I was too much of a pussy, but anyway.
What is it about men in uniform? I’ve read one or two articles and “researched” a bunch of pictures and I can confirm that uniforms are a thing. Anecdotally, Husband has been mortified when I’ve almost given myself whiplash due to “firemen” doing whatevers, not even doing anything dangerous in skimpy outfits after a massive workout, and then my friend gave me a protracted tour of her firestation. I’ve toured firestations before so it certainly wasn’t the idea of hoses and ladders that peaked my interest. There definitely might be a follow-up visit to the police station, at some stage!