Not yet a girl gone wild, not yet sedate

Ever since Karl and I established a land line, we've been getting telemarketing calls just like the rest of the world. Our cell phones still serve as the catch-and-release tags for our family members. On our land line, we've gotten the regular calls for steam cleaning (not our responsibility, living in an apartment), refinancing our mortgage (owning a house out here... we'd have to give up a few organs and then some for a down payment), and for vacations (stupid Redondo Beach hotel selling our information). The best call, though, came from the esteemed organization of Girls Gone Wild, asking to talk to Karl...

This takes me back to when Karl and I first met. One of our first dates was to a GameCube launch party in Atlanta. He failed to inform me that it was sponsored by Maxim. As we enter, there are scantily-clad girls draped over large-screen televisions. The tragedy of the situation was that they were receiving no attention. At all. All but two of the party attendees (being Heidi and myself) were addicted to playing preview games and talking about graphics.

But I'm still wondering about Girls Gone Wild... and being in Los Angeles, you never know...