Bradley Cooper, Foreign Languages and the Dirty Monkey

Okay, here’s the thing. I’ve watched that video clip of Bradley Cooper speaking French four times. I’m supposed to be writing yet each time I pause mid-sentence, searching for an elusive word, there he is. Bradley…my extra-marital freebie. I have to admit, until recently I only truly appreciated Bradley circa The Hangover. He was the ravishingly handsome bad boy, all unkempt but still beautiful. I’ve always like my boys that way – gorgeous, confident and well-dressed. Just like my husband was that day I met him eleven years ago. Last weekend, David and I watched Limitless and I marveled at how Bradley wore those English suits with such ease. Who doesn’t appreciate a handsome man in a perfectly tailored English suit? 

Esquire magazine June/July 2011

A few days later the movie was forgotten. Bradley the movie star slid into the background because, let’s face it he’s just a dude who’s in some movies that hired great stylists. Then the video clip appeared. Oh God, the video clip. I could dive in and take a swim in those liquid blue eyes. Is it weird that I’ve watched it four times in the past 48 hours? Is it? Go on…be honest.

Somewhere in my questioning, I was reminded of a monkey I once knew. Okay, I didn’t actually know the monkey. We never had a conversation or anything, but I still feel like we knew each other on a relatively intimate level. He lived in the pet store at the Aviation Mall where I recall standing with my mother, watching him perform behind the glass. I was 14 and still relatively innocent about all things involving sex. I was really only there to see the funny little monkey. He was eating a banana and jumping around his glass house. Boy, did we laugh. Then he scaled up to the highest level of his platform and proceeded to rub one out. Vigorously. 

Now, since people in Bloggy Land tend to take things so literally, I feel compelled to explain that I am not doing The Monkey while I watch Bradley speak French. It’s just that somehow my oddly-wired brain took me on a trip from French speaking Bradley Cooper to the masturbating monkey. I suddenly wanted to tell my husband about that masturbating monkey but I’m sure that he was already in bed, resting his gorgeous blue eyes. While I was pondering my mini-Bradley obsession and the masturbating monkey, David was sleeping just feet from his closet filled with perfectly tailored suits and impeccably shined Alden’s.

If he were awake, he’d patiently listen to my random recollection of that self-pleasuring monkey and probably wonder how, exactly, that memory surfaced while I was upstairs writing…and watching Bradley Cooper speak fluent French. Maybe today, I can coerce Dave into wearing a suit on the weekend. Perhaps he’ll forego a shave and speak a little Italian to me after we’ve tucked the kids in tonight. Did I tell you that his blue eyes still make me swoon? He smells good, he’s gorgeous, he makes me laugh and, after nearly ten years of marriage he has never done The Monkey in front of me. And that’s a good thing.

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  1. Did he? Did he wear the suit? And speak the Italian? And make you swoooooooon?

  2. ok? I have one thing to say…WTF?

  3. Oh that was fun to watch 🙂 (Not sure i’d say the same about your naughty monkey but luckily you didn’t link to a video of that).

  4. Haha, Aviation Mall! I remember that place. My extended family is from Queensbury. They had a sit-down restaurant (I feel like it was a Ground Round) that had one of those tabletop versions of super mario bros.

  5. Masturbating monkeys and Bradley Cooper should always go hand in hand. Definitely. I can see how you would draw the connection. And I would just like to personally THANK YOU for sharing that video. I hadn’t seen it, and I consider my life more complete now that I have.

  6. mmm Bradley Cooper… He’s one of my secret boyfriends, along with Gerard Butler and Paul Newman circa 1967. Have you Cooper in the A-Team movie yet? Totally an action packed man-flick, but full of Bradley Cooper goodness!

    Now, about that monkey…

  7. How is it that I have the dubious distinction of being the lone male commentor here? Obviously, I’m no Bradley Whats-his-face (jealousy alert). In lieu of my hunky shortcomings, I will suck in my gut, click the heals of my hiking boots, and wrack my brain for something foreign. Hmm, let’s see. “Yo tengo olor de la cruerpo!” Honestly, I love my wife dearly, but if Eva Mendes came a-knockin,’ I’d be like PEACE! I imagine she’d do the same if Colin Farrell came a-galloping up on his white horse with a five o’clock shadow. Hell, I’d leave go with Colin Farrell and I’m not even gay. That boy can sing!

    • Welcome! We need a skosh of testosterone around this joint. In my humble opinion, every marriage should include the Freebie List. Chances are slim that a meeting would ever occur. Far more slim is the idea that Bradley Cooper would hit it with a old housewife.

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