Week 62: up 1.5 pound (-58 pounds total!)

Good morning HMD’ers!  Happy Monday to you all.   As you can see, last month’s HMD R & D  is making it’s debut well into August.  Oops!  Last week Her Hotness had her hands full with social engagement after social engagement, culminating in a mini-break, a stay-cation if you will, at the home of two great friends of mine.  This morning finds me chlorine soaked, red nosed and with a ghastly looking DBUO (Drinking Bruise of Undetermined Origin) taking up the better part of my lower right thigh.  And yes, Saturday evening may have found me in the midst of a rather violent prayer session with the porcelain god but whatevs…even the mightiest of warriors falls sometime…tee hee, ya’ll I was a damn MESS!  Oy!  I’m sure my weekend escapades are directly responsible for this week’s mediocre showing, but I’m not worried one bit.  I was on stay-cation, people!  So let’s just call this anomaly an anomaly and move on…move on to the Hotness…

(People, I have a confession to make.  I’m coming to the end of my list of Requests and Dedications.  I need more!  I need you to tell me the Hotness you want to see, otherwise this feature may soon go the way of the electric car!  Surely there is some Hot somewhere that I am missing.  I am only one woman, for chrissakes, only one woman with one set of eyes.  And while my Hot-Spotting skills are truly the stuff legends are made of - LEGENDS, I say! - I still want and need your input.  Send me your Requests!  Send me your Dedications!  I am so EASY to reach - put it in a comment or email me at herhotness@hotmandiet.com.  You’ve given me some serious Hotness this past year and a half…don’t let me down now!)

And now for our Hotter purpose…This first request comes from two dear friends of mine, former co-workers that I have not seen nearly enough lately.  In missing them terribly, I remembered that they both requested I do an entire HMD entry on the Hot Men of Lost.  Well kids, I am lost when it comes to Lost, so an entire entry might be a bit much to axe this poor old gal.  That being said, I will indeed make sure all the Lost Hotness gets it’s due in due time.  I’ve already featured Naveen Andrews.  And now I bring you Matthew Fox.

Kids, did you love Party of Five as much as I did?  I looooovvveeed it!  It is up there with Felicity and Homicide on my shortlist of the best shows of the late 90’s.  And the while the Ben/Noel debate definitely eclipsed it, a quieter war raged betwixt my roomie and myself in our basement level, one-bedroom (yes, we were that poor!) Brooklyn apartment.  Call it the POF Salinger brother Hot-off: Charlie or Bailey?  Miss Gee (said roomie at the time) was almost always encamped on Team Bailey.  I vacillated.  I was young.  I still liked my milk with full fat and my men with no edge.  I didn’t know any better!  (Can you tell I was on the Noel end of the Ben/Noel debate?  Though now Scott Speedman is one of my abso faves…so Hot, so Hot, so stinking, effing Hot!)  But there was something about Matthew Fox that moved me…something about the dark hair, the chiseled jaw, the air of bad boyness that kind of wafted around him…a sly kind of Hotness, not nearly as pronounced nor as pretty as Scott Wolf’s, but potent…so damn potent…and in the downtime between POF and Lost Matthew Fox grew up, grew out and grew undeniably Hot!  The Fox became a bona-fide fox, replete with crazy Hot bod to boot.  So for my gals at work in El Segundo, CA, to A. & P. (I miss you both!) I dedicate the Hotness that is Matthew Fox.   

My next request comes from S. in Long Beach.  On our way from seeing Mamma Mia last Thursday (good times, good times) she quietly wondered when I was going to feature her only request - Oprah’s cute gay designer.  Well, how’s about we feature him right now!  Kids, Nate Berkus is a dee-lite!  So charming, so lovely, so undeniably good looking…the curly hair tousled just so, the picture perfect smile…all of it is almost too much, almost too easy…but then there’s the tragic backstory…the boyfriend lost to the tsunami while on holiday…and while that is awful stuff, awful, awful, awful, it lends a hint of pathos, a bit of gravitas to Nate Berkus’ almost textbook Hotness…let’s be honest - it makes the Hot Hotter, as twisted and weird as that may sound.  And so I happily dedicate Nate Berkus to S. in Long Beach…that I do so in spite of the fact that her Angels were at the time slaughtering my Yankees (though the weekend would end on a much higher note for my boys!) only speaks to my excessively generous, extremely benevolent nature…tee hee…

Last but ne’er least, I have this request from a very special member of the HMD family.  It comes from E. in Long Beach, aka my Secret Weapon, aka the architect of Her Hotness’ current Hotness, for she is the mind behind my musculature, the brains behind my beauty, the cheerleader behind my changes.  In short, she’s the bomb, and I would be remiss to miss any request she made of me.  Not that it’s hard to comply.  I mean, Jason Statham probably should have been on HMD ages ago.  He’s exactly what I’m liking these days - a Hot Brit with a killer, KILLER body…he’s all edgy and Hot and cut and Hot and athletic and Hot and brooding and Hot and he’s the kind of guy you want to hang out with in the pub because he’s probably good times, good times over a pint or twelve and he’s got that low voice with the panytdropper accent that you’d have to lean in real close to hear and so maybe once or twice his lips graze your ear and so even though you’re sure he can hear your loud Americanness you decide to lean in real close to talk back and so maybe once or twice your lips graze his ear…and maybe you decide that being American is not such a bad thing when you’re with Jason Statham and so maybe you Manticipate many moments of Manjoyment with this ‘un…because this isn’t the one you marry, he’s not the one you bring home to Mom, he ain’t the guy you hitch your wagon to, hells no…this is the one you feel, the one you touch, the one you let touch you, this is the kind of Manficence that begs for the physical, for the sexual, for the usual and the unusual…this man, oh ’tis almost too much for this Monday morning to think of this man…I need a shower, kids!  A cold one!  A COLD ONE!

DON’T FORGET - Send me your Hotness!!!  Write herhotness@hotmandiet.com today!

Week 63: down 3.5 pounds (-61.5 pounds total!)

Hey kids, top o’ the morning to ya!  I’m doing a quick check-in before I head off and start my work week.  The rest of today’s Hotness will come later this evening.  Her Hotness is still recovering, kids…I spent the whole of yesterday experiencing the opposite of Hot Manspiration, as I watched my woeful Yankees get swept by the Angels live and in person.  Oy!  The temp was hot but they were NOT…I’m still furious with them…come on, boys, COME ON!

Anyhoo, to those of you looking at today’s title and thinking naughty thoughts I say grow up!  I’m totally gonna be talking about how excited I am to reach the big O, as in the big 6-0.  Hello!  What do ya’ll take me for, some sex-crazed, wanton, man-eater?  (YES!)  Do you really think that I would use my site to discuss lustful, lewd and libidinous acts?!  (YES!)  Do you?!  (HELLS YES!)

Stay tuned to find out…

Okay, I’m back.  Didya miss me?  I’ve just finished a lovely dinner, I spent a glorious half-hour in the pool earlier this evening, the dishes are done, some candles are lit and my bed is calling my name in a lilting soprano…but first to Hotness!

Kids, I done finally done it.  I finally, FINALLY hit the big 6-0!  It feels like I’ve been stuck in limbo betwitxt 50 and 60 for ages.  Whew!  Another 10 pounds bites the dust.  I know I’ve bent your ear quite a bit over the trauma that was shedding this last tenspot, but please know that ya’ll are a huge part of why I keep fighting the good fight.  I’m cereal.  You are the wind beneath my wings.  And yes, I just kicked myself for writing that, but it is true.  I send you all smooches, hugs and many special moments with Talent and Ambition!  I’m yours, kids!  I LOVE yous guys!

And while I cannot promise that it will be all rainbows and fairy tales from here on out, I can say that I am making a concerted effort to save the drama for my mama and enjoy the hell out of this new me I’ve created.  HMD’ers, I’m entering uncharted land.  I’m officially smaller than I have ever been in my adult life.  Holy crap!  I may not be at the end of my journey, but I’m finally at the part of the trip where the roads are all new and beautiful and paved with gold, GOLD people, freaking effing gold!  I might not be done driving, but there is no doubt I have arrived!  Woo hoo!!  I’ve arrived!

(I shall have to refer to the above outburst of goodwill and self-love the next time the scale and I are fighting, won’t I?)

As for orgasms (WHAT?!  Did you think I WASN’T going to talk about orgasms?  Do you people know me AT ALL?!?!), I’ve been thinking about them quite a lot this past week.  Aren’t they awesome?!  Isn’t it amazing that one’s body can DO that?  Waves of pleasure, pure, undulating pleasure rippling forth from the middle of the body and pouring out, out to the limbs, out to the hands, the fingers, the toes, the head,  the head that has already given in and is clear and free and void of all thought save for the pleasure, the tingly, tense, time-stopping pleasure…how, why, where, how does the body DO this?!  Thank you for orgasms, thank you God, thank you Universe, thank you, thank you, thank you!  Such a gift, the moment when all parts of your body are in complete and total agreement, the moment when EVERYTHING bends and bows down and gives over to the power of pleasure, pure, undulating pleasure…

Who wants to join me for my next one?

(Oh no she DIDN’T!)

Hot Manspirations of the Week:  Because I am ever so fond of beating a theme to within an inch of its life, I bring you today’s third story of O.  The Olympics are here, and unless you live in a cave or are a complete idiot I’m sure you now know the name Michael Phelps.  You’ve probably also heard of the fantastic, world-record breaking victory that the US men’s relay team pulled off, a come from behind victory over a smack-talking French team (they’re called Freedom Laps, people, Freedom Laps!) that everyone had pegged as The Team To Beat.  And we did.  You go boys!  Add bonus points for the fact that this Hot Team includes a brother and you’ve got yourself some serious Hot Manspirations of the Week, Olympic-style.  Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you (from left to right) Cullen Jones, Jason Lezak, Michael Phelps and Garrett Weber-Gale.  Let’s hear it for the boys!  Hot bods, Hot talent, Hot Gold!  Woo hoo!!!

We interrupt our Weekly Speak to bring you this special bulletin from Leah Full of Bad Decisions…

Good evening HMD’ers, Hot Man Dieteers, peeps, kids or whatever ridiculous moniker Her Hotness uses to greet you poor readers.  Welcome to Week 64 of this Hot Man Disaster, or Dietaster as I prefer to call it.  Yes, yes, I know that not many people can lose 60 plus pounds in a little over a year, whatever, clearly I am not here to issue any accolades.  I am also NOT here to weigh in.  So get over it. 

What?  You seem shocked.  You were expecting daisies and roses and happiness, weren’t you?  You’re ticked that this entry was not prepped and ready for your morning coffee, aren’t you?  Well kiss me in the balls and call me Clyde - that ‘taint how I operate!  Perhaps you’ve never met me.  I am Leah Full of Bad Decisions, and I am in charge now!!

I’ve staged a coup.  I’ve taken over.  I have been coup d’trying for months now, with limited success.  But how quickly things can change!  A perfect storm has been brewing, a perfect storm of the most un-Hot conditions, and it has provided me with the necessary ammo for my hostile dis-Mantling of Her Hotness’ resolve.  A devastating, dismal Yankees season (playoff bound, schmayoff bound!) and the laughable execution of the odious “2008 is all about the date” campaign (ha!  I knew, I KNEW that one wouldn’t work) were but two of the factors leading to my triumph of the will.  The final weapon in my arsenal may surprise you.  Are you ready?  This is the part of the plan that exceeds even my deliciously fiendish desires!  I used her success against her.  Effing brilliant!!  I used that shrinking biotches significant weight loss against her.  How?  Duh, can’t you see how terrified Her Hotness is of change?  Can’t you see the self-sabotage that Manifests itself after a good stretch of good decisions?  She’s scared as hell, ya’ll!  Add some margaritas, a beautiful So Cal summer, a gajillion and a half social engagements, a keg fridge at work (at WORK, people…I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - every coup needs a good keg fridge) and a spot o’ disposable income and Her Hotness easily becomes mine for the taking!!  For the better part of last week I was in hog heaven - there were poor food choices (those golden arches have ne’er shined so bright!), poor boy choices (God Bless America!), poor activity choices (Olympics = gold medal in couch lounging), poor choices everywhere!  My overthrow was complete!  My reign of terror had finally begun!  My coup d’Hot was a success!! 

So listen here, you minions of Manspiration - I WILL NOT BE STOPPED.  Bow down to me and obey my commands for there is no Hotness here, only Hot Pockets!  There is no perserverance or persistence, only pizza.  There is no back on track, there is only Big Mac!  Do you understand me?  If any of you wretches even think about posting an inspirational comment or attempts to thwart me in any way I’ll hunt you down and stuff your gut full of the lowfat, low sodium, organic hemp plus granola that has somehow found its way into MY pantry!  (Seriously, who eats this shit?)  I hope you don’t think that Trader Joe’s bag sitting on the kitchen table scares me, because it doesn’t!  Sure, it contains crap that is “healthy” and “more nature made than man made” and “leafy and green but not in a mojito”, but whatevs…and yeah, I guess I might actually like the taste of that lowfat, low sodium, organic hemp plus granola that has somehow found its way into my pantry, but whatevs…and maybe the lack of sleep is killing me…and maybe my skin is needlessly suffering…and maybe my stomach hates my guts, but whatevs…no one ever said a coup was easy.

HER HOTNESS IS MINE!

Hot Manspirations of the Week:  I may be evil, but I’m not a nun!  My slothlike stupor has provided me with ample time to enjoy even more Olympics Mancandy.  Ryan Lochte quietly winning a well-deserved individual gold amidst the Michael Phelps juggernaut.  Rafael Nadal taking the gold in men’s tennis and the number one ranking in the world in an almost anti-climatic fashion, as that epic Wimbledon win still beats fresh in the hearts and minds of sports fans everywhere.  Kobe Bryant leading the Redeem Team in, dare I say it, a most gentlemanly, sportslike and patriotic way, attending events, cheering on fellow members of Team USA, gamely chatting up the international press whilst deftly demonstrating his skill with foreign tongues and somehow making a case for himself as the gracious Face of Basketball, a sport not typically known for graciousness. 

 Seriously, did I just WRITE that?  Kobe Bryant gracious?!  I must not be the only coup in town…

Week 65: up 3.5 pounds (-58 pounds total!)

HMD’ers, I’m BACK!  No coup could ever come betwixt me and you, could it?  Never!  (Though I admit it was fun playing the part of a pisser.)  Her Hotness is in the hizzy, a bit bigger (more on that in a sec) and definitely badder than ever. 

So what happened?  What led Her Hotness from her hotness to a rash (two week’s worth!) of bad, bad decisions?  Well kids, I haven’t a damn clue.  Alls I know is that if it wasn’t good for me it was EXACTLY what I wanted.  And I wanted as much of it as I could get.  Ya’ll, this one was rough.  ROUGH.  So rough that this morning’s weigh in was a relief.  (Whaa?!?)  But it is over.  Over.  And now we begin anew.  Wipe the slate clean.  Pack up the bags and get over the bender and leave Las Vegas and return to the Hotness…ooohhh, the Hotness…

The Hotness is here, ya’ll!  Here!  Her Hotness is never gonna leave, your Hotness is never gonna leave, the Original Trifecta of Hotness (and it’s adjunct fourth member) is never gonna leave…people, you gotta have faith!  You gotta believe!  Stick with me baby, I’m the Hotness you came in with!  And please, please know - there’s no quitting in Hot Man Diet! 

(Special Note from Her Hotness:  It may seem like I have been easily dismissive of a particularly bad stretch of Hot Man Dieting, and I have.  Ever since I had that hissy I have been trying NOT to berate myself when good choices go bad, hence last week’s tongue in cheek entry.  I spoke once about the need for forgiveness.  Well, I am trying to put that in action.  I think it is helping, because I am in such good spirits right now you’d think I lost another 60 pounds.  Besides, didn’t we all KNOW that this journey would be difficult?  Duh!  So let’s just have a good time, shall we?  Let’s have a good time and gab about hot boys and shake our hot stuff whilst we ALSO go about the business of getting back on track.  Sound good?  Mmmkay.  Hand me that carrot.)

(Addendum to above Special Note:  Cause really, ya’ll, I would be like a major biotch if I were to complain about my life right now.  There are good times, good times being had all over the place!  I shook my groove thang to Donna Summer at what was my umpteenth Hollywood Bowl concert this year, the all-male chorus line busting a fully choreographed move behind me making it two shows for the price of one.  I spent a beautiful day at the races in sunny San Diego, though our group may be the only that can boast of getting thrown out of Del Mar for public drunkeness.  I’ve been swimming like an effing fish, swiftly making up for a lifetime of swimsuit phobia…How are things?  They’re Hot, Hot, Hot!  How am I feeling?  HOT, HOT, HOT!!!)   

Hot Manspirations of the Week:  Let’s see, let’s see…who has been on me mind this week?  Ah yes, you’ve been on my mind, Mr. Robert Downey, Jr.  Your Hotness made Iron Man the only summer blockbuster that Her Hotness didn’t miss.  And your Tropic Thunder commercials make me howl in laughter, even though I’ve seen them a gajillion times.  I MUST see it soon!  Hmm…who else has left me bewitched, bothered and bewildered?  Simon Baker.  And how!  I know, I know I just featured him a few weeks ago as part of my homage to the Hot Men of Something New, but my god I cannot get this man off my mind!  He’s got a new show coming out this fall that could be written by a pack of wolves for all I care - I WILL watch it!  He just…he gets to me…he DOES IT for me sooooo much…is my Original Trifecta of Hotness gonna have another adjunct member?  Maybe so, maybe so…As for the Hot Shot of Hot Chocolate to my right, well he’s new.  HMD’ers, say hello to Nate Parker.  Nate and I spent Saturday night together.  It was glorious!  He was in The Great Debaters and I was in Hot Manspiration overdrive!  ’Tis hard to steal the Hotness title in a movie starring Denzel Washington, but damn if this young ‘un didn’t do it.  Here’s another pic of young Nate (in full Speedo glory) from the movie Pride.  It’s nice, isn’t it?  You’re welcome.  I predict great things for this great debater, not the least of which is some serious Manificence.  Hot Stuff coming through!!  Damn!