I'd Totally Tumble That (if I ever got the chance) -- Mariska.

Guess what? It's right on top of 2 a.m., and I can't sleep! Whoo! Reason: I quit drinking highly caffeinated things awhile ago, but I recently bought a 2-liter of Coke to take to a shindig and we ended up not drinking it. Any of it. So, not being one to waste perfectly good Coke -- there are thirsty kids in Sri Lanka who want this Coke, dammit -- I carried it back home and have been drinking it myself. From the bottle. (What? I'm single. I get to do this shit whenever. I. want.) Needless to say, I'm WIRED. As a matter of fact, I'm about two degrees south of "high as a damn kite."

Now, there are many things I could use this excessive energy to bitch about -- like how, for instance, Medicaid temporarily quit paying for my Dexadrine just in time for me to get fat again before going on vacation, or how the Department of Public Welfare has started referring to the scooter they bought me as "not medically necessary," and therefore continually refusing to pay for repairs, even though they bought the damn thing in the first place. Oh, oh, oh, I wish I could walk well: if I could walk well, I'd march down to the regional office in Harrisburg and start kicking the ass of every bureaucrat from here to Ohio. Then again, if I could walk well, I wouldn't need to deal with the DPW anyway. Life sucks and then you die.

Anywho. Instead of doing that, I have decided to regale you with hotness. Yes, you heard me right: I said hotness. Hotness as in, "incredible, mind-blowing, powers of attraction." Stop holding your breath. I am not regaling you with myself. That'd put you in psychotherapy. I am giving you, oh my readers, my list. You know, the LIST. Everybody has one. "List of People I'd Totally Tumble if I Ever Got the Chance." "List of Celebrities my Spouse and I have Both Agreed I Can Leave Her For, Assuming She Gets Those Celebrities Over There." etc. Only my list is not so much a list as a collection, because I just can't number these people. I can't number them because I can't decide who's hotter. It's impossible. My brain would short out.

This list, urm, "collection," has ladies AND gents on it. Most of you know by now that bodies are just so much packaging to me. I have to believe they are, else I have to believe the one I'm stuck in actually somehow defines me. Piss on that. Usually I'm not even interested in the packaging at all -- I fall for personalities. I fall for smiles. I fall for kindness and humor and intelligence. The plumbing is secondary. But let's face it: some people come wrapped up REALLY nicely, and just like anyone else, I can appreciate that. (You should see my room. Betty Paige lives next to Audrey Hepburn, who lives next to Rosie the Riveter, who lives next to Marilyn Monroe, who lives next to a concert bill of Janis Joplin strategically draped in necklaces. And then there's this Tanya Chalkin poster called "Kiss." Look it up. Very tasteful, if scantily clad. I don't do trashy.)

I bet some of you are now thinking, "What has been read cannot be unread." But it's not my objective to freak you out. I just make a conscious effort to make what you get match up with what you see. I'm not a perfect person. Half the time, I probably don't even qualify as "kinda good." But if there's one thing I strive to do, it's to stay true to myself and to those around me by refusing to hide. This is me, not hiding. Hi. I'm Tif. I like classic pin-ups. I kissed a girl and I liked it, so I did it again. But I can't stand that moronic song.

Anywho again. Enough with the moral lesson and on with the hotness. Due to space, I shall make the hotness ongoing -- I'll post a person here and there, every once in awhile. It'll keep you from drooling on the keyboard.

Drum roll, please ....

I'd Totally Tumble That if I Ever Got the Chance:

Mariska Hargitay.

Yes, she's old enough to be my mother. In fact, she might even be older than BOTH of my mothers. I don't care. She's hot. Seriously, are you seeing this right now? If you are not appreciating this on some level, check your pulse. You might be dead. This woman ROCKS pushing 50. And she kicks ass as detective Olivia Benson on Law and Order: SVU. All that brooding intensity, and a gun. Someone fan me before I faint.

Not to mention, she founded The Joyful Heart Foundation , a charity to fight sexual abuse, assault, and child abuse. This gives her beacoup points in my book. Not that she needed any extra. She's already the hottest woman alive.

Stay tuuuunned ... for more. You know you want to. Don't fight it.