Wife came down a while ago and announced "We've got tape of your new love".

What?

"We taped a commercial with your latest love."

Tasha Tilberg?

Yup. Been taping all the Highlander shows since TNN started rebroadcasting the series (only missed one episode so far... not even sure which one), so we have a wonderful smattering of American culture recorded as well, in the form of commercials.

If you can count Ren and Stimpy as culture. I don't count it as anything.

As anything, except embarrassing, to some people who are too stupid to be embarrassed. Or making too much money to care that they should be embarrassed.

Anyway, we recorded a Covergirl commercial along with Highlander this afternoon, featuring Tasha Tilberg.

First noticed her at the dentist's office, as I perused People magazine in the waiting room.

Yeah, I know I am expected to be reading the Sports Afield mags, or Sports Illustrated, or Auto Mechanics, or something macho like that.

I don't.

Sports and hunting magazines are boring. People is my first grab in waiting rooms. Never read it otherwise, but it is wonderfully empty brain food, and there is never anything in there you're not willing to put down when they call your name.

Except the 14 July issue. For, when I had completely scanned the entire issue while waiting for the hygienist to finish with youngest and eldest sons, I turned it over.

And Wow.

There, on the back cover.

An incredible brunette.

Wow.

So, for the first time in my life, I read a Covergirl ad, and memorized her name. I had to see more of this woman.

'Course, took me days to realize they were selling lip gloss.

Anyway, I immediately raved about this discovery when the wife got home. (Yes, I share my girl watching with my best friend... who else? You know the commercial of the male fantasies that could never happen? Like the wife also admiring a beautiful woman in a bar, or reaching across the table to tell her husband "Of course you can have money for a lap dance."? Guess what? Some fantasies come true. Like both of those, for me.)

So, a day or two later the wife comes home with our first ever People magazine, just so I can have Tasha Tilberg here at the desk. And now we have her on tape.

Yeah, I know. Way, way too young for me to be looking at. So sue me. And don't bother looking her up on the internet. Lots of fan pics there, but whoever used her as a model when she was younger was a bunch of idiots. Whether as goth or waif, they did a wonderful job of hiding what she was going to become.

It's hidden no more.

Need to go pack, now. Eldest son's appointment in Central City is tomorrow, surgery on Wednesday. Likely to be gone 'til Friday. (And have to rent a car to do it... SUV is still in the shop getting the new transmission, and the wife never did get the air conditioning repaired. Kinda essential for long hauls in this weather, especially if one of those in the car just had tubes, lasers and scalpels in their gut.)

I see Botticelli's in our future.

And just in case we're so inclined, got directions to a bunch of benchmarks staked out in town, and along the drive up.