The hotty chronicles continue

Last night (Saturday, December 1, 2007), we were watching the TV-news live, as is often the case now that I have to walk the dog about 3:30 or 4 p.m. to avoid darkness setting in.
It means I can’t “zap” the ads; i.e. fast-forward through them, which also mutes them.
E.g. the gecko quickly ascending a fast-moving escalator while sputtering in a heavy British accent.
We are in a bar, and old graybeard is trying to score female entertainment for the night.
Two NFL-announcers are off to the side, covering play-by-play.
“And here we have old graybeard trying to court ‘little miss hotty.’” (Ahem; that’s what they said.)
Hotty sees the gray beard, and turns and walks away, looking like “are you kidding?”
“Uh-ooohhhhh. RE-JECTED; That’s gotta hurt, Jeb.”
Graybeard goes into the mens room, and applies oily Grecian-Formula (WHATEVER) into his beard with a toothbrush.
He then strides back out and tries another pass at “little miss hotty.”
She lunges at him, and gives him a big hug. (BING-BING-BING-BING-BING-BING-BING! Sweetness and light!)
Sorry, but I think the actress was probably embarrassed at playing “little miss hotty.” —Probably the actor too.
I can’t see religion wanting their women to accost men in this fashion; but they’ve co-opted rock-n-roll. (And now the REPUBLICANS are the “reds.” Used to be the Commies.)

Our dog is “Killian;”a rescue Irish-Setter.

RE: “Little miss hotty” —Not long ago, my macho, blowhard brother-from-Boston admitted his onliest son at college was dating a “Baptist-hotty.” Things have probably changed, but I can’t make sense of “Baptist-hotty.” I’ve been loudly excoriated for even questioning “hotty.”