Top 5 Dudes I Wanna Do It To. November 2010 Edition

It has been far too long since I have updated my "Top 5 Dudes I Wanna Do It To" list. FAR too long. There have been some real changes. The World Cup is no longer going on so I can focus my thoughts elsewhere besides on international pitch. The NFL is usually a hotbed of ladywood activity for me, but since Tom Brady won't take off that Viggo Mortensen wig and Brett Favre is flashing his junk all around.... I've gone unconventional. Let's take a walk down superboner lane. Starting with Honorable Mention.

Ian Somerhalder

Ian is hot. GREAT eyes, good dialogue on Vampire Diaries and all, but in real life, I've heard he's somewhat of a totally Earth-conscious hipster. That is great and all, but I don't need those smoldering peepers to look over and scold me when I chuck an empty Coors Light bottle at a sign on a back road while booze cruising, you know?

Number 5. New to the list!!

Chris Hemsworth

Chris. Yum. Since Sam Worthington has decided to grow Mel Gibson Lethal Weapon 3 hair, he's out. Chris may even be better. When I look at him, I feel like Chris Pine, Sam Worthington before lame hair, and pre-wig Tom Brady got together and had a baby. Then made him Australian.

Number 4. The lone NFLer

Wes Welker

Wes. I'm not impressed with his height, but his quads make up for it. His hairline is also a little rough, but his hand-eye coordination make up for that. Plus he just looks like he would be adorable when he wakes up in the morning and asks me for waffles. With syrup, Wes? Coming right up.

Number 3. This was tough.

Ryan Kwanten

Uhhhhh. Ryan. He's like a shorter version of Ryan Reynolds without the lame smirk and bad aftertaste of Van Wilder. He looks great in anything (and if you've Googled imaged him, you know he looks good in nothing as well) and his face just looks incredibly friendly. He IS Jason Stackhouse, yet he's actually the complete opposite in real life. He has an Australian accent and he was in my friend's bowling league. That bitch. He has the wrong color eyes for me, but I can overlook that if he stays shirtless often enough.

Number 2. Sen-Fucking-Sational.

Alexander Skarsgard

Sweet baby Jesus. Thanks to True Blood and Rolling Stone, I have now seen almost every single inch of this physical specimen. I like what I've seen. I was concerned that I only liked him as Vampire Viking Eric until I saw photos of him at Coachella defending the honor of his waif girlfriend against photographers and then hoisting her onto his shoulders so she could see to jam better. Swoooooonsville!!!! When I combine the thought of Eric in the books with Eric from the show, an F5 tornado of lust swirls within me!

Numero Uno. It might shock you.

David Beckham

Becks. He has been dancing around my Top 5 for a while now. I kept putting Landon Donovan in front of him, but I have realized I was wrong there. David is a better overall package. This picture alone captures 3 of my favorite things on Earth. Soccer, the beach, a shirtless, hot David Beckham. He's a family man, he has stayed married to the same woman for over a decade, (which is also the first woman I ever had a lezbotronic crush on, coincidentally) he looks fantastic with any color or cut of hair and wearing anything from sweats to Brooks Brothers, he plays a great sport - for Los Angeles sports team..... and he's just remarkable to look at. I mean... sometimes I have to bend over and put my hands on my knees to let my Beckham ladywood go away so I can walk upright. Let's review...

Oh woops. I just dropped an egg. No big deal. He doesn't look adorable with his son at a Lakers game.

Daaaaaamn. Something... just happened in my pants. I need to go to the bathroom. Just give me a minute *stands bent over with hands on knees, strained look on face*

Ladies... I hope I have sufficiently filled your spank banks. Until next list. I bid you happy jacking.

I Mustache You A Very Important Question

Oh, hello.

I'm what happens if you're a super weirdo and Google "woodchuck with mustache".

I have something very important to tell you.

HAPPY FRIDAY!!!!

28 Weeks Later... In a Good Way

Duckasaurus Rex!

Lots of stuff going on! It's inching closer to the Holidays and you're debut so everyone is pretty busy. Some busy with less important stuff than others....

Three of your Uncles are in a bit of a frenzy. Call of Duty: Black Ops came out 2 days ago. Yeah, ridiculous is right. From as much as I can tell, they all still have their jobs so far. No telling if your cousin has seen her father without a headset on since the 9th though. I have nothing against video games, but if it prevents Thanksgiving celebrations, I may go Black Ops on some people myself. Your other Uncle couldn't care less. He's more concerned with cigars.

Your nursery is coming together quite nicely! I have seen pics of the process. Your Mom has a real slash and burn operation going on, dude. Your Dad seems a tad worried. I asked your Mom if she would let him help and then we both laughed at the image of him painting. He declared this morning that if you turn out to be a girl, his "mind will be blown". I still say you are one. Just so we're clear, I will love you either way even if my blog below makes you think otherwise.

Back to your Mom. What. A. Freak. All I know is, you haven't slowed her down one bit. She tried to finish your nursery by herself today, but had some paint issues. When she was on the phone with me outside the paint store, she actually debated on picking up some parking lot hired help. I quickly and strongly advised against this. Sometimes she says things like "I'm seriously thinking about doing this" and doesn't mean it... but sometimes she does. It's hard to tell with that one. Anyhoo, she texted me at my request once she arrived back home minus a possible... ethnic helper. She did say that you seem as over painting as she is because you just chill all up in there while she does it. I picture you staring blankly. I was worried that maybe you were too high from fumes to give a damn, but she advised that "This stuff is all legit toxin free!! Did you expect anything less from me?!". Just sayin, if you come out all buzzed looking, I'm blaming the paint.

Let's review your stats! You are 28 weeks baked today!! You are about 15 inches from your head to your heels. You weigh over 2 pounds now. You can blink your eyes!!! You have a little eyesight now too and you can most likely see light outside your Mom. This could explain why you keep blasting your foot out into her tummy, though I choose to believe you're practicing your corner kick for soccer! (don't tell your Uncle A) You are getting eyelashes now. Grow them nice and long so I can give you butterfly kisses when you're older, okay?

When it's time for your next blog, I will be with you! It will be Thanksgiving and you need to be prepared to take on a LOT of food. I have seen your Mother eat and it's all very Discovery Channel. Look down. See that? It's your belly. And it's going to have a lot of turkey in it. Whenever you're ready for pie, grab that cord and tug. I'm sure she'll oblige.

I can't wait to see you!!! Until then, Get Big. Get Big. Get Big.

Eat you up I love you so xoxo

"I'm still sort of moved by your 'My word is stronger than Oak' thing"

I will never understand men as long as I live. Though, having many close guy friends, a male roommate and Adam H. Newman as first a boyfriend then a best friend has helped me... cope. In light of some recent events (that did not happen to me, I'm all set thanks) here are some of my thoughts on men.

- A man will say absolutely anything to get what he wants. A-ny-thing. Whether he wants a sandwich, sex, a job, a date or you to marry him, he'll say whatever he thinks will seal this deal.

- Even the guy your friend sets you up with that she describes as "the super nice guy, so sweet, just a good guy"with her hand on her chest, a sad face and her head tilted, is capable of screwing you over. Even HE can lie, cheat and leave you. Whether he's your boyfriend of a week or your husband of 20 years. Not saying he will, but he's very capable.

- A man can tell you how much he loves you 10 times in one day. He can also wake up the next morning and break up with you. I have seen it happen.

- When questioned about cheating, a common thing a man will say is "where would I find the time?". If he wants to? Oh, he'll find the time. He'll find plenty of fucking time.

- They are also capable of incredible levels of cowardice. I mean, the emotional equivalent of throwing you in front of a bullet to save themselves. The same man that went with you to take your dog to the vet and held you as you cried would also make you feel responsible for him breaking up with you when really he just wants to nail other people. But saying that... now, that makes him bad guy. Yes. That's how they think.

Now, that being said....
They are capable of amazing feats of love and faith. It's like that line in Jerry McGuire "Men are the enemy... but I still love the enemy". Did I just quote that movie? Really? Yeah, I did. And I'll do it again. ALL men are not bad. There's nothing worse than an "All men do this horrible thing" or "Fuck love!" quote. The reason that men and love are so amazing is because they are both simultaneously ridiculously good and strong, then terribly fragile. Sometimes I don't even blame them.

I'll tell you this. Take one day, a Friday for example. Wake up and just decide to think, speak, have the ego of a man that day. Obviously you're not disguising your voice or anything frittata like that, but just behave is if you were you, but a man. At home, at work, and best of all... that night in a bar. Throw your girly cautions and flirty smiles to the effing wind. Stare some dudes up and down. Talk to one, and the second a better looking one comes by, look at him, then go after him. Don't be especially rude, just do whatever the hell you please. Talk to your friends, chat using whatever naughty language you want, have a blasty blast, but everything you do, think of the way a boy would do it and try that. Take no fucking prisoners. Now, wake up the next day and tell me you didn't feel a little stronger, more powerful, sexier. If you don't, fine. Don't try it again. If you do, keep it up. One day a week, then one more and so on. Trust me, it's fun. The best of both worlds usually is. A Charlotte and a Samantha mixed together with less cheesy dialogue. A Kanye West attitude singing a Taylor Swift song. The ultimate dream!

Now, this is also single me talking. Happy relationship me sings a different tune because I'm usually drinking the Kool Aid. I will say this, I know ONE man. One. That has been honest and consistent and forthright in the 15+ years that I have known him. (that I know of) Not great odds, but I'll tell you how I get through that and alllll the bullshit above to occasionally make it from single me to happy relationship me in a world filled with douchebaggery. Think like a man. Treat a man the way they treat everything in life; like it's a joke or a game to be played. Analyze that any way you like. As soon as you tire of this and would rather be drinking the relationship Purple Drink, you'll know and let your guard down.

Just remember; If this is empty *points to heart*, this doesn't matter *points to head*. Is that relevant to this rantalicious blog? I'm unsure, but I told you I would quote Jerry Maguire again and by God, I keep my promises!!! (unlike all men.)

"I hope I do good on my English test!!! And Free Weezy!"

Randoms


1. My roommate grew a beard on a whim. I think it looks nice on him! He's a big, tall dude so he looks even more manly and intimidating. He enjoys rubbing things on the beard. Seriously. The other day I saw him rubbing the remote on it. Then a red Solo cup. He seems to have gotten past the itchy stage, but he says he's now in the stage where "I can SEE the mustache when I look down". I can see the hair on my toes if the sun shines on it just right so I feel his pain.


2. Last night I was touching my hair to make sure it was still there and shiny and I discovered a ladybug just chilling on my head. How long had it been there? What did it want? I didn't kill it because I have always been taught that ladybugs are good luck. I just flicked it on the floor where it will die soon enough of natural causes and I'll sweep it up with the swiffer. later on, I saw it outside my bedroom door. Was that the same one? It is BENT on giving me my good luck and I admire that in a flying insect!


3. I finally gain weight like a normal, healthy human being. This is awesome for my ass, not the greatest for my tummy. The most noticeable change in my journey to womanhood is that I am getting fat enough where I can feel my boobs actually bounce when I walk. It sort of startled me. This has never happened before. I texted Duck's Mom to tell her this and her response was "Welcome to the club! 98% of women in the world are already in it." Ladies of Earth: I'm now with you!


4. Years and years ago, I had a boyfriend much older than me (I know, shocker). We broke up for many reasons, he was a great guy and she's a nice lady, but the biggest was because he couldn't cut the umbilical cord. A few nights ago, I had a dream that I was lying in bed, fully clothed, flipping channels and I looked over and he and his Mom were lying there too going through some figurines of colorful farm animals they had ordered in the mail and deciding where they should be placed in the house. I just remember my eyes widening, my mouth dropping open, and waking myself up. I would just like to take this moment to thank God for validating my life choices through the magic of dreams. You have no idea how real a possibility this could have been.


5. Foods I am currently addicted to: Mini quiche from Sam's Club, whole wheat angel hair with olive oil, cherry tomatoes with swiss on Trisquits, brown rice with yellow and red peppers, cheap frozen pizzas covered in banana peppers, semi-sweet chocolate chips. Everything else is stupid.

6. I am obsessed with Jenny on The League. If I ever get married (and let's face it, that's a long shot) I hope that's exactly the wife I am. In fact, if I ever even have a serious boyfriend again, I'm just going to sit him down to watch those DVD's and let him know that if that's not close to what he's looking for then "Darlin', we must re-define the nature of our association". And if he doesn't know what movie that line is from, I'm telling him to get the hell out of my apartment.

7. I have decided to leave all the fake cobwebs that I hung for the Halloween party in the basement. Indefinitely. They make me want to drink.

8. I bought green nail polish today. First jeggings, now green nail polish. I'm like Benjamin Button; getting younger every day.

9. Speaking of the basement, ever since Travis made me watch the movie The Strangers on Halloween, I can't fucking go down there. I need to get a bin with sweaters for winter and I swear, I can NOT make myself descend those stairs. Even if he's home, I'm nervous he's going to scare me to be funny and it's going to be another pants pissing story.

10. My 16 year old niece has a fairly alarming obsession with Lil Wayne. Not his music, but him. She had a countdown on her facebook for him leaving prison. I... I don't know what to do about that.

One....Two....Three... Urine!

A little story about my first big humiliation. The first of many.

I grew up in a very, very, very small town. My father was a volunteer fireman there for most of my life. When my older sister and I were little we used to love to go to the fire station to see him and "help" with stuff. Really, we would just go to see what other kids were up there with their parents so we could all group together and run all over town like savages. I was about 5 or 6 at this time, so I rarely got to leave the station with the older kids because my Dad feared they would either accidentally leave me somewhere or my sister would kill the first person that looked at me funny. (She was a tad overprotective unless she was the one beating my ass.)

After fires, Dad would take the hoses off the trucks and lie them all flat to drain. He used to tell me to walk very slowly, toe to heel, all the way down them to help get the water out. I loved doing this. I felt like I was helping not only my town, but pretty much all of America. Plus, when I helped, my Dad would buy me Hostess cherry pies which at the time were basically catnip to me. I didn't like to mop the water off the floor once it gushed out of the hoses, so I would cheat a little and put the nozzle over one of the many drains in the floor to save myself time. Inventive? Yes. Lazy? Also yes.

One summer afternoon, my Dad had come back to the station from a brush fire so my Sister, her friend Val and I went up to there to help take care of biz. I'm doing my job with the hoses and my Dad is re-stocking the trucks and cleaning up and such. My Sister and Val are bored so they ask my Dad if they can go across main street to the gas station to buy snacks. I can't remember what miracle took place to make this happen, but I get to go with them. It was a bright sunny afternoon and this was before my town reduced to being just a bar and a Dollar General so there were a lot of people out and about.

After we get our delicious and I'm sure healthy gas station snacks, Sister and Val each take one of my hands. They walk me over to the sidewalk so we can cross Main Street back to the station. There are no such things as stop lights or crosswalks in my town, you just make due wherever it's most convenient. They have already informed me that we are walking across when they count to three and now they are talking to each other waiting for a good opening in traffic. Riding high on my wave of joy at being allowed to go with the girls across big bad Main Street for the first time, I decide I'm going to show them how cool I can be by playing a trick. They see an opening in the cars coming, so starts the "Ok, kid.... one (a big smile spreads across my face)....two (my eyes narrow in anticipation)...." and I yell "THREE!", rip my hands free of theirs, and sprint out into the street.


Several things happen at once. Cars from both ways screech to a stop. The noise makes me freeze in place. I look to my left, and an older man I don't recognized isn't worried about me, but shaking his old ass fist at me screaming out his window. My Sister and Val run to me and sweep me up in both of their arms as my Sister yells for the old man to "shut your mouth! she's just a kid!". They set me down safely on the other side and it occurs to me I have done something very wrong. I begin to worry and beg them not to tell Dad. My Sister is examining me for any harm while glancing back at the station making sure he has not emerged. She is visibly shaken and warns me that if "you ever do that again, I'll throw all your Little Ponies in the wood chipper". I begin to cry. She wipes my tears and we all agree it's just best to act totally normal and not tell Dad how horribly my first access to Main Street without parental supervision went. She takes my hand (MUCH more firmly this time) and we walk back into the station through the bay door.


My Dad is briskly walking up from the back with a concerned look on his face. As he meets us in the middle of the station, he asks what the honking and tire noises were for out on the street. Within a second from those words dropping from his mustachioed mouth, my Sister folds like a house of cards on a breezy day. "SHE RAN OUT INTO THE STREET, DAD!" The only noise I could hear was my father slowly inhaling. He is 6'4" and I am most likely about 3'2" at this time. My face is right about level with his Bruce Jenner short shorts. I am frozen in place clutching my Hostess for life. I see his hands ball into fists and raise ever so slowly to meet his hips as I can feel his eyebrows meeting at the same time he is lowering his face to stare me down. I decide I have to look sooner or later so I muster the courage to look up. I should have been summoning the ability to control my bladder because as soon as I took in the worried/super pissed look in the grown up eyes that match my own..... I pissed myself. Hardcore. Even his mustache looked mad.


"NOW SHE WET HER PANTS, DAD!" flies out of my Sister's mouth. My Dad unlocks his fiery gaze long enough to shift it to the I'm sure steadily growing puddle beneath my Kangaroos. His face turns instantly to an apology. I burst into sobs. Sister bursts into laughter. Val is still a statue of fear. My Dad peels off his awesome Wild Turkey t-shirt, wraps it around the bottom half of my kick ass shorts jumpsuit and scoops me up into a sweaty hug. "Your Mom is going to murder me". I cry harder as I try to get an apology out. He takes me to the ladies room and cleans me up as he explains that he wasn't mad, he was just scared. He grabs another t shirt from his locker and puts me in that. It is a dress on me so I don't need anything else. I can NOT stop sobbing. I have let my father down for the first time and I'm pretty sure life as I know it is over. Let's not even discuss the mortification of pissing in front of my Sister and Val (who both still remind me of this almost 30 years later). He takes me out back and lies me down in his truck to take a nap in the sun while he washes out my jumpsuit. I didn't know it at the time, but he threatens my Sister that if she tells Mom or anyone about this, he's going to take away her Rick Springfield albums.

When he finally comes back out to get me, he looks so sorry for making me cry. He gets me re-dressed and explains that I can't run away from or disobey my sister even when she's being a dickhead. He promises to take me on more walks across the street so I understand traffic. He says that old man that shook his fist at me is an asshole anyway, so don't worry about that. He gives me a few more hugs and says not to be embarrassed because he's not going to tell anyone and if Sister does, "she's getting the belt". He stands me up, smooths my hair and says "Hey.... at least you peed directly over a drain!" with a big, bright-eyed smile on his face.

Oh, Dad. I love you.

Hide yo kids, Hide yo wife, And hide yo husbands because there's a Mouse up in here, ya'll

This morning started like most Mondays.

I woke up after pressing snooze a billion times. I turned on MTV to wake me with the soothing sounds of Eminem. I opened my Mac to see Landon Donovan stare out at me seductively from my desktop. I grabbed a towel to head to the shower to wash 2 days worth of Halloween level hairspray from my dome.

I turn the water on to warm and put pre-brush mouthwash in. I pull back the curtain to make sure the entire bottle of Drano I poured down the drain on Friday had worked and the water wasn't making a shower lagoon. That's when I notice some black specks at the end of the tub. I am about 5 minutes out of sleep at this point so I'm trying to process what they are (lint? chocolate sprinkles? did I sleep eat a cupcake in here?) when I see something twitch out of the corner of my right eye. That something was a small tail and the back wheels of a mouse trying desperately to escape under the clear plastic curtain from the hot water raining down on his ass and back! I let out a closed-mouth "Ah!!" and my eyes nearly leap out of their sockets.

As I whirl around for the door I realize I am naked and have a mouth full of Crest foam. I turn back toward the tub. I turn back toward the door. I spit my mouthwash into the sink. I turn back toward the door. I am clearly panicking. My first thought is "I need Travis! But he's going to want to kill the mouse!". I contemplate trying to save my little guest myself, but I am already saying "Oh no, Oh God, Oh no." with every move I make so there is NO way I'm stifling a shriek if the mouse resists at all in my rescue attempt. I turn for the door. I realize again I am naked and Travis has seen enough so I reach back for a towel. I yell towards the upstairs. "HELP ME!!!". This wasn't the smartest as his first thought was -INTRUDER-. I quickly clarify that is not the case, he says his hands are full of hair gel, but he's coming. My next words "PLEASE DON'T KILL IT!!!". I am borderline hysterical. (In case you have not been reading previous blogs, I have an irrational amount of love and compassion for small woodland creatures. Not deer though, they're all clearly suicidal and I'm sick of my vehicle being their death vessel.)

Travis descends the stairs ready to take action. His first words: "Get the camera". I refuse as my tub is too dirty for photo documentation. He attempts to calm me while searching the kitchen for objects that insure swift and safe mouse transport from tub to back yard. I continue to lose my mind while I hop up and down wrapped in a blue beach towel. All I can picture is Travis getting frustrated with an uncooperative mouse and deciding he needs to die via giant hand squeeze so I am just pleading for it's safety. He again attempts to calm me down and assure me he's not going to harm the rodent. He heads to the bathroom with his trap of choice: A folded Smirnoff Ice box and a Solo cup. (Somewhere in the back of my head a voice says "man, we drink a lot here" but I am too focused/insane to make a joke at this point.) I follow him to see this extraction, but fearing either for my safety or my sanity, he orders me out of the bathroom and to close the door. I am fearful this means certain death for the mouse, but I choose to trust and I exit. The entire time, I continue to hop up and down just wailing things like "Did you get him? Is he ok! He's wet, be careful! DON'T HURT HIM!".

After about 60 seconds, Travis says "Ok, got him, open the door" and I see his face of triumph as he walks out of the bathroom with the Solo cup clamped securely down on the Smirnoff box platform. I want him to show me the the little guy, but I take his word that he is alive and well under there and "quite jumpy". The last thing I need is the tiny animal I worked to save lunging out from under a beer cup at my worried face. I rush to the sliding door to let Travis out onto the deck. I think he's just going to set him free right there, but he just leaps out across the yard in 33 degree temps and morning darkness wearing nothing but basketball shorts. All I can really see is his arms raise against the light from a building behind our house and I hear him giggle. As he runs back towards me I ask him what he did. "I tossed him over the fence, I'm sure he's fine". I yell "YOU THREW HIM?!" but deep down I know it's ok because I have seen mice fall from barn rafters 20 feet up a billion times and just scurry away so I know the 5 foot drop was no big.

Travis returns to the house a hero. Not til just then did I even think about the fact that he just did all that for me with a painful broken clavicle. : ( He also says "I was naked too! With 2 hands full of hair gel. And my first though was 'If it's an intruder, there's about to be a naked fight!'". His hero status elevates significantly.

I have thought about the mouse a lot today. I hope he's ok. One of the first movies I ever watched was The Secret of NIMH. If you have seen it, you can imagine where my mouse affection comes from. If you don't feel something for Mrs. Brisby, get out of America, please. You're a soulless human being. The last thing I said to Travis was "What if his family is in here? What if he has a wife here or something?". Travis' thoughtful and calm reply with a big smile; "Well... then they are now starting a loving, long distance relationship."

Take care, little mouse.

Ducky's First Gig - Opening Act For A Mouse.

Hi Duck!

Sorry I didn't talk to you Friday, but I was pretty consumed with Halloween. There was a party at my house and I had to pretty much take the entire day to think about zombies and cobweb placement. You'll understand some day. I promise that when you are born, I won't neglect you for walking corpse jokes or party planning. Swear. I went as Little Red Riding Hood. It was somewhere between the cute version and skanky version. I think it worked.

Your cousin has a blog now too! She recently had her shots. What. A. Wimp. Kidding!! Poor thing had to get poked 3 times. Even I would get pretty frazzled after that. It did result in an amazing angry picture of her though, which is nice. You can use it to torture her in high school when you guys are older.

It's your Dad's birthday!! Pretty sure he's still younger than me though, so that's a bummer. He is still handsome with a great head of hair. Nothing has changed there. He also ignored my call this morning. Nothing has changed there either. Bigtime movie producers can't always be available for Ohio birthday wishes. Be sure to give him some pokes through the belly love today!!

Honestly, other than that. Not that much is going on. You are 26 weeks baked now! Your Mom is having such a blissfully normal pregnancy that it's hard to find hilarious stories for you. Hopefully this will change as she gets fatter and fatter and fatter. You are about 14 inches long now and almost 2 lbs. Your hearing is getting better and you have started to take small breaths to build your little duck lungs up for your first big quack. If you are a boy (which I don't think you are) your little man parts have started to descend. Gross, right? Don't worry, it's normal.

I have to go because I have another whole blog to write about a rodent, but I will see you very soon at Thanksgiving! Soooo excited!!

Eat you up I love you so!
xoxox

PS, There is a rap song by someone named Dorrough out right now. Even though is it pretty offensive and all about money and not unborn child growth, the chorus just repeats the words "Get Big" over and over and I always think of you. Get Big in there!!!