Tag Archives: Tom Jones Sex Bomb

Another Blessed Day Is Upon Us, Gang!! Yay!!

First, I want to say that Quibi is dropping a new series on Monday, called “Dummy,” and guess what it’s about?  Yes, an AI sex doll.

But it’s a comedy and it’s a female AI sex doll. It’s about a woman who discovers that her boyfriend has a sex doll and she ends up going off on a road trip with the sex doll and becoming BFFs with it or something like that.

So, nothing at all like Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town, but I did think it was interesting, regardless. I will definitely watch it. Although, so far, still the only show on Quibi that I like is “Agua Donkeys.” I do like a lot of the elements of (non-scripted) “Chrissy’s Court” — where Chrissy Tiegen is a Judge presiding over an actual small claims court. However, I can’t stand courtroom garbage. I have no tolerance for people who get to the level where they must sue each other over stupid shit. So I wasn’t able to watch more than one and a half episodes of that show. Although Chrissy, herself, was really funny and I enjoyed watching her.

Anyway. I’m curious to see how the writers handle “Dummy.”

And it’s not that I am only looking for comedies. I’ve tried watching several of the Quibi dramas but couldn’t stick with them. I was sort of interested in (non-scripted) “Flip that Murder House,” or whatever it’s called. But you know how serious I get (kill-joy, I guess is the ironic word for it). I just found the show so disrespectful to the people who were actually murdered in those houses and then the families and the loved-ones of the people who were murdered in those houses.

I have no problem with people wanting to try to make real homes out of houses where murders have occurred, but just the way it was handled on the show seemed so dismissive and abrasive to me.

But, of course, that’s me. (And it’s what drives me to want to laugh instead.)


As indicated by the illustration above, it is supposed to rain pretty much nonstop today. Of course, I’m not going anywhere, so it doesn’t matter. I’m supposed to work again with Peitor today on Abstract Absurdity Productions stuff. I hope it pans out because I had such a good time working with him on Wednesday. It felt so good to laugh that hard again.

Which reminds me, speaking once more about laughing — I am becoming a total TikTok-oholic. Some of those videos make me laugh so hard, it’s ridiculous.  And since I am now basically still stuck in bed throughout most of the day, it is super easy to just lie there and scroll through these 20-second videos. It just kills me how funny so many people are — from all walks of life.

And that teenage boy who tells his overworked mom those dirty jokes? Man, some of those jokes are so funny and so dirty, I can’t even reprint them here. (Because I’m not only chaste and wanting to remain that way, but this blog is simply not about any X-rated potty-mouth stuff, ever…)

30 Best Laughing GIFs to Share

Okay, on an entirely different note.

Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand Files letter yesterday about the nature of prayer, and who it is you are praying to when you pray, and why the virus has given us an opportunity to be prayerful right now — regardless of what we do or don’t believe in outside of ourselves. You can read it at the link there. Of course, as always, I thought it was extremely well stated.

I, personally, am really grateful that I was taught at a very young age (about 3 years old) how to pray.  It was my adoptive mother who taught me all about praying, when I asked her one afternoon if God was a cloud.

She was in the kitchen, busy, as usual in her always cooking, always cleaning, housewife way. But she stopped everything and explained to me that God wasn’t a cloud; He wasn’t a “thing” at all — but He was everywhere because He had created everything. But that most importantly, a little piece of God lived inside my heart, too, because He had created me. And that whenever I wanted to talk to God, He was always right there inside me.

Jews pray in an entirely different way than Christians do. It’s blasphemous for Jews to give any sort of form to God. God’s not a man, God’s not a statue, God’s not an icon. God is everything but no-thing.

Even though I couldn’t embrace the Jewish faith, I really appreciate having that  background notion of God being formless. Because it has led me into a type of prayer that is extremely up-close and personal. (And, oddly enough, it’s also why I ultimately couldn’t embrace the Jewish faith — because the inner God I was praying to was loving and kind, and not the fear-mongering, war-mongering God I was forced to encounter in the synagogue every week.)

All righty. Well. Who knows what today will bring? I feel very encouraged that it will bring wonderful stuff! Like naps! And silly things to laugh about! And reasons to feel stupefyingly horny (i.e., continue reading Love in the Time of Cholera, which is often a very hot little book)! (I’ll tell you, gang, this virus might have knocked me out from the waist up, but from the waist down, I’m as frisky as ever!!)

And I guess, a case in point, is today’s breakfast-listening music! I’ll leave you with that:  “Sexbomb” from Tom Jones’ sexy little 1999 album, Reload. Enjoy it. And thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys! See ya.


Listen to this
Spy on me baby, use satellite
Infrared to see me move through the night
Aim, gonna fire shoot me right
I’m gonna like the way you fight
And I love the way you fight

Now you found the secret code I use
To wash away my lonely blues
(Well) so I can’t deny or lie
‘Cause you’re the only one to make me fly

Sex bomb, sex bomb, you’re a sex bomb uh, huh
You can give it to me when I need to come along (give it to me)
Sex bomb, sex bomb, you’re my sex bomb
And baby you can turn me on (baby you can turn me on)
(You know what you’re doing to me don’t you, I know you do)

No, don’t get me wrong ain’t gonna do you no harm, no
This bomb’s made for lovin’ and you can shoot it far
I’m your main target come and help me ignite
Love struck holding you tight (hold me tight darlin’)

Make me explode although you know
The route to go to sex me slow (slow baby)
And yes, I must react to claims of those
Who say that you are not all that

Sex bomb, sex bomb, you’re my sex bomb uh, huh
You can give it to me when I need to come along
Sex bomb, sex bomb, you’re my sex bomb
And baby you can turn me on (turn me on)
Sex bomb, sex bomb, you’re my sex bomb (sex bomb)
You can give it to me when I need to come along
Sex bomb, sex bomb, you’re my sex bomb
And baby you can turn me on

You can give me more and more counting up the score, yeah
You can turn me upside down inside out
You can make me feel the real deal
I can give it to you any time because you’re mine

Sex bomb

Oh, baby, sex bomb sex bomb you’re my sex bomb
And you can give it to me when I need to be turned on (no, no)

Sex bomb sex bomb you’re my sex bomb
And baby you can turn me on (turn me on)
And baby you can turn me on (turn me on)
Baby you can turn me on (turn me on)
Ooh baby, you can turn me on (turn me on)
Baby you can turn me on, ooh (turn me on)
Baby you can turn me on, ooh
Baby you can turn me on
Well, baby you can turn me on

© 1999 Errol Rennalls, Mousse T.