Hurricane Season Boyfriend 2007

Harry, take me to the salon, darling!

Women of South Florida: it's that time of the year again! I know you've been busy fussing to and fro botox appointments, but have you prepared for hurricane season?

Granted, I'm well aware we single gals over the age of 150 question the usefulness of men in our lives, but let's face it, a penis with a body attached to it is very handy from June to November!

In my relentless pursuit of convenience over effort, I made a huge sacrifice last week -- I actually gave up a pedicure appointment to do a little consumer investigative reporting!

IS THAT A CAULKING GUN IN YOUR POCKET OR ARE YOU JUST HAPPY TO SEE ME?

Don't bother with Ho Depot. The mega supplier still only carries plywood, flashlights and battery-operated fans. But if you can't resist the temptation, stop by for tasty cheese arepas and Sabrett hot dogs. As well, satisfy your green thumb and disdain of frugality at the nursery, where you can buy perennials that will be utterly destroyed during the first tropical storm of the season.

Oh and if you're feeling a bit velociraptorish, there's always fun with "Ambush the Hottie" game! Try it just for shits and giggles: wait patiently in the flooring aisle, lovingly fondling a tube of grout while holding firmly onto a caulking gun. Whenever office worker by day/male stripper by night walks by, bat your eyelashes and ask him naively, "Does this heat up if I blow on it?"

ño! QUE BRICK HOUSE!

The staff at this mom-and-pop harguer estor/botanica in Hialeah is unique to Tancredolandia™ because it not only gives good wood, it also throws in a bit of spiritual advice at no extra cost. So when I spied my target -- construction worker by day/male stripper by night -- and asked him to "ponerme los shutters" he broke out in reggaeton and rapped "ay mamasita, mueve to culo! mueve, mueve, mueve to culo!"*

Tancredolandia Lesson 1: Harguer Estor



STORMY LEATHER

Not ready to give up in my steadfast search, I hopped back onto 112 and crossed the pond. As I drove over the Julia Tuttle Causeway and enjoyed the always breathtaking view that leads me home, I sighed and pondered the irony of living in paradise. "Beauty comes at a cost," I thought. Eureka! Such a dilemma who can better understand than a gay man already?**

I turned south to Lincoln Road, figuring I'd score a buff dude with a heart of gold and the brawn of Hercules. Just think about it: how utterly lovely to have a gay hurricane season boyfriend! We could give each other pedicures and reenact scenes from The Bird Cage! In South Beach it wasn't hard to spot my next victim -- gay by day/even gayer at night -- and when I asked "what's your favorite hardware store?" I got directions to novelty shop Gaydar on Alton.

Oh, such disappointment! Nice lingerie, but unfortunately leather codpieces won't protect me during a category one! It did get me thinking though -- why not just tent our homes with huge latex, wind-proof condoms that we can just pop on and off?

LAST RETORTS

So in the never-ending search for the perfect hurricane season boyfriend I have nominated the one man I know who can cook up a storm and still lift me by the seat of my pants if the apartment should be flooded by Atlantic surge ... not to mention hot-blooded liquids spewing from his man-loins!


MANOLA: IMPOSSIBLE

I hereby declare world renown chef Robert Irvine as my hurricane season boyfriend for 2007. In spite of his quirky English overbite, Bob darling raises the bar when it comes to hurricane season boyfriend standards. With a military background, he's sexy because he can delegate and GET SHIT DONE without whining. And with the sensibility of a culinary artist, he can turn canned PORK AND BEANS into a sensual prelude of porking bliss. I've got a feeling even the mosquitoes will steer clear with these biceps hunkering around the apartment. The star of Food Network's Dinner: Impossible will definitely have his hands full with Manola.

WISH LIST

Here's what my bitches have to say about their ideal hurricane season boyfriends!

Yvette from Miami Rhapsody: Oh, a no-brainer. My ideal Hurricane Season Boyfriend is Matthew McConaughey. Imagining that chest, those abs, the adorable face, I can't think of anyone I'd rather slide around a wet blue tarp with. Why would I care if the house blew down, if it meant I could look forward to naked brunch with my boyfriend Matthew? Just the thought of grilling by candle-light with a bottle of wine, with my boyfriend Matthew, makes me want to pray for rain.




Tere from A Blog, A Mom and the Life In-Between: My IHSB is Johnny Depp; I'm sure he's picked up some good survival skills from the Pirates movies. And I KNOW he's smart enough to keep me entertained and interested through those long, boring nights. Of course, I don't plan on letting him talk much, seeing how dark, stormy nights are perfect for hot, sexy make-out sessions. I mean, who the hell cares about a blown roof when you're straddling Johnny Depp?



Balou from Searching for Normalcy: My fantasy HSB is Tyler Florence. Not only is he hunky enough to put up the mandatory plywood, but I'm sure he could McGyver up some fabulous meals using only a sterno and a flashlight. Who wants to eat cold Chef Boyardee all week waiting for FPL to get their crap together?






AMANTE BANDIDO! HERO OF LOVE! SO GAY AND YET SO MANLY!

"I'll be your wind ..."

"I'll be your beaten hurricane ... "

OH MY!



DISCLAIMERS

*Do not give the author of this blog shit about this tasteless portrayal of Cuban Americans. She is Cuban American herself and therefore can make fun of her own people. Let my people laugh in freedom, coño!

**The author of this blog is Jewish by proxy. Shit give her not for using Yiddish syntax already!

tags: miami beach, hurricane season, parody, hurricane, robert irvine, tom tancredo