BUNS OF STEEL ~ By Absolutely*Kate . . . #flash'fiction

~ BUNS OF STEEL ~

By ~ Absolutely*Kate

 

Naked men! Wooohoooo! Daddy didn't tell me it would be like this. I mean, I know the ground shakes and good play calls cause trembles and quakes, but I wasn't quite prepared for the Big Show, several days before the Curtain was set to rise again. Now this is something. Follow me in, will you? Watch where you walk, who you may bump into. It could get slippery. The greater the sheen when glory colours a power scene.

JUST THE RIGHT TOUCH

Power? Yes indeed. Raw, tough, glistening sweat like dripping diamonds elucidates the meander midst men more mesmerizing than mere mortals. Come, follow me. It'll be fun. I promise. Aren't they big? No, aren't they huge? Oh yes, size matters. So does force and finesse and this array of gallant undress. Naked heroes. The stuff magnificent dreams are made for.
 

NOTHIN' LIKE AN OPEN DOOR POLICY

They came a long way to get here. Wasn't always easy. Out and out challenging most of the time. The press dogged them and as they refined, they got fined. A lot. Too much, but that happens when you're in scapegoat heat. Always has, always will. But look at them ~ Aren't they splendid, these men of steel? They're in top form, at the top of their game, and huddle highest as the top o'the heap. They're simply super, aren't they? You reckon how many play patterns gain yardage with these kind of buffed forward passes? No clipping calls, no flags on the play. First and ten, do it again. Oooh, do it again! All red-zone baby!

Come on, let's go smile 57 different ways at Hines. He's delicious. Wanta get tangled up in Polamalu's tresses? They're insured, you know. Value always is. Whew, all this pressing the flesh just to get our story out this week is making me a little hot and thirsty. Why, I'd give the jersey of gold and black off my back for a Coke.

"Wow! Thanks Mean Joe."

BEST COMMERCIAL MESSAGE OF ALL TIME, RIGHT?

GO AHEAD. YOU KNOW YOU WANTA WATCH IT, AGAIN.

 

THIS HAS BEEN THE NAKED TRUTH,
REPORTING LIVE FROM
THE CONFLUENCE OF THREE RIVERS,
IN PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA ...

WHERE THE SPIRITS RUN HIGH
AND THE PASS RUSH DOESN'T GET BY.

"HERE WE GO STEELERS, 

HERE WE GO!"

(c) SuperBowl Weekend, 2011 ~ By Absolutely Steeler*Kate

Dedi'kated to the best Steeler fan of all worlds, Paul Pilarcik,

who's probably shaking his loveable head in heaven

that she told a sports story, sexy.

Sometimes

  you gotta cover

  all the angles

  to get into

 the end zone

Dear Dad,

I think you're the Best too.

Thanks for teaching me about football and the Steelers and Life and that the people who matter are our greatest riches in the world. They are.

Love,  

~ your kid Kate,

PAUL PILARCIK ~ OUT-STANDING IN HIS FIELD

proud to wave my

Terrible

Towel

this

Super

Sunday

 

Images: SteelBuns by Bootsie5000

Touch by CharlesFred, LockerRoom by PaintMonkey 

6 by Pit6Rings, ClassicHelmet by AndeeMcee

   

ARE YOU REALLY READY FOR SOME SUPER FOOTBALL? AT THE BIJOU makes your day

 

IT'S THE SUPER*BOWL!

* AT THE BIJOU *

WITH ALL THE FORWARD ACTION

YOU CAN SWALLOW!

GRIDIRON GREATS READY
 FOR SOME FOOTBALL FUN?

THE BIJOU TEAM
IS ON THE PLAYING FIELD:

Absolutely*Kate

Hero Harry B. Sanderford

Sweet Sugar-Wendy

Veronica, Wally and

Ben ~ you've heard of Ben?

Then, with a nod from The NOT, 

Michael J. Solender 

Daniel Stine

Paul Phillips

Lee Hughes

((Kate couldn't resist one more New England pictorial))

Commercials, They're Grrrrreat! . . . by Harry B. Sanderford of Harbinger*33

AND NOW, FOR A COMMERCIAL MESSAGE ... well, Harry B (for B-cool) Sanderford's amusing muse which could not be refused and probably won't confuse you either ~ after all, Harry wrote it. It's plain'up and how the cowboy-surfer dude thinks. What could be more down'home than that?

Dames and Dandies

*** NOW PLAYING ****

*** AT THE BIJOU ***

Commercials, They're Grrrrreat!
~ by serious world humourist, Harry B. Sanderford

I was watching the tube recently and when I watch TV I like to watch the hell out of it, the remote is key to my viewing pleasure. I don't watch commercials as a rule. This is ordinarily my prompt to move along so it is mildly ironic when my interest is caught by one of those deals where the whole point of the show is to count down a list of TV's most memorable commercials. It's really only pompous indulgence on my part because I'm only hanging on to verify my prediction that the old commercial where Mean Joe Green scores some Coke from a kid and then tosses him his filthy sweat-soaked jersey will win out. It does of course and I revel in my astute ability to predict cliched predictability. For my money though, the best commercial of all time is that one with Mr. Whipple sitting on the crapper noisily grinding out some grundlers and since he has nothing to read he's left with just his thoughts and the camera moves to the little thought bubble over his head where a gore muzzled Tony the Tiger is plop-plopping Alka Seltzers into a glass of water with the freshly mauled carcass of Captain Crunch visibly oozing entrails dotted with pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars and green clovers in the background. Not sure just what they were selling there.

(c) Harry B Sanderford . . . 2009


Harry B Sanderford doesn't like talking about himself in the third-person, so I'll speak up right mightily here for a writer of not pomp but always circumstance. You can take a glance or chance reading what this guy puts out and you'll never gamble up empty. He's thaaaaat good. Why, he even collaborates with some of the finest dames the Harbinger*33 has aboard ... that's Ms Sugar, Madame Z for Zelda AND Gypzee and humbly, but with hoopla, enjoyably, inspiringly and wittily with me. Some great stuff of his stuff can be found for all of posterity in his prolific posterous postings @ http://harrybsanderford.posterous.com/

To me, aboard the Harbinger*33, Harry is a sound sounding-board and a friend to no end. His words ring out whether in his well writ wit or his cheer just because a fellow sailing mate happens to be roamin' about the decks, ponderin' the position of the stars. Why, I bet Pamila Payne gets rich indeed from the urging of his encouraging to accept money for her Bella Vista sensation scene.

Topsail thanks to you Harry pal . . . with always a wish that Mean Joe Green gets the just rewards he shares and the Steel Curtain predictably rises again (no cliche). Honoured we all are that your jaunty talents are aboard Harbinger*33, sailing to its publishing journey of manifesting destinies.

~ Laughter ever after, with FairWinds, Favourable Seas
~ Absolutely*Kate and readers to remember your voice all the more