Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Monthly Archives: February 2008
And Friday Night Funnies
A true dildo story (hey Suisan, I think this beats yours) (oh, and check out this antique vibrator museum!)
Vote on the Ralph Nader Caption Contest
D.
Friday Flickr Babe: XL edition
Today, Dean posted his XLth (40th, to you non-Romans) Flickr babe, and mentioned how he thought about finding an XL babe, but gave us the usual svelte wonder instead. Not that I object to svelte wonders, but surely there are some nude XL babes over at Flickr.
Below the cut . . . NSFW, natch.
Barnyard Animals, Lesson #1
Shaina, this is a baby goat:
Cosmo Thirteen: the Va-jay-jay Edition
There was a time when guys treated women with respect. We might sneak a peak at their bazongas, but we didn’t stare at ’em for more than a few minutes, and we would never call ’em hooters or milk wagons or love jugs. And we didn’t call women slags or skanks or sluts, and we didn’t refer to their Holy of Holies as a kebab or a quim or a bearded clam.
Or, God forbid, a va-jay-jay.
No, we called it by its proper name, pussy.
Pussy shows proper respect to a beautiful, wondrous organ. Think about it. A pussy is cute! furry! friendly! Men like to pet, stroke, and cuddle with pussies. (Many women do, too.) You wouldn’t hesitate to bring a pussy home to Mom.
I’m not sure what a va-jay-jay is, but I suspect it stays out too late clubbing, smokes and drinks to excess, has no interest whatsoever in short, bald hobbits, and probably associates with an overabundance of wa-wieners.
In this issue: Rihanna shows off her yellow Versace . . . women in danger . . . five things never to tell your guy . . . and guys masturbate (no, really?)
Leave Hillary Alone!
So said my son this afternoon. It has become an old, tired joke at Chez Walnut.
Leave Bill O’Reilly alone!
Leave tuna alone!
Leave kitty litter pans alone!
Yes, I’m making those up. Jake hates it when I make shit up and attribute it to him — so, Jake, please take note, I haven’t attributed ANY of that to you.
When he said, “Leave Hillary alone!”, however, I told him he really ought to search YouTube for it, since someone has undoubtedly done this.
Turns out, MANY have, but the Young Turks have one of the funniest versions.
Back to work on the Cosmo Thirteen. Stay tuned, droogz.
D.
Hillary jumps the shark
Not a good debate tonight for Hillary Clinton. From her pettiness at the outset (Waaah, why do I always get asked the first questions, waaaah, don’t you watch Saturday Night Live? You guys love Obama more than meeeee! Stick a pillow under him, why dontcha?) to her dog-with-a-bone act over health care, she looked desperate, not presidential.
The true shark-jumping moment came when Tim Russert asked Obama about Louis Farrakhan’s support for him. Russert wanted to know, do you reject Farrakhan’s support? Obama replied that he has repeatedly denounced Farrakhan for his antisemitism.
What does Hillary do? At 5:55 on that video: “You asked specifically if he would reject it [Farrakhan’s support] and there’s a difference between denouncing and rejecting . . .”
Hmm. You know, she’s right:
Reject 1 a: to refuse to accept, consider, submit to, take for some purpose, or use <rejected the suggestion> <reject a manuscript> b: to refuse to hear, receive, or admit
Denounce 1: to pronounce especially publicly to be blameworthy or evil
<they denounced him as a bigot>
Denounce is the stronger word, and that’s the one Obama used. You would think Hillary would have more respect for words, given that her hubs will probably be scorned for all time for his mincing of the word “is.” Words matter. But, I forgot — she’s not running on her rhetorical gifts.
In any case, Obama’s reply hit it out of the park (6:22). Bwaaahaahaha. And the audience loved it, too.
“Good, good, excellent,” Hillary replied — as if she had just scored a major victory. Riiight.
D.
My life needs more fingerpainting
Last year, M E-L turned me on to DonorsChoose.org (ah, and I see he’s promoting them with another challenge!), a charitable foundation that fixes up mini philanthropists with worthy causes. I donated some $$ to buy paints for an inner city 1st Grade class. Today, I received a nice packet from the teacher: a thank you letter from her, several photos, and thank you notes from the kids, too.
Funniest note was this one:
Daer Dr. Hoffman,
We make butfull pants our class make a boch of pickchrs togetr. thank you
You’re welcome. I’ve been told I have butfull pants, too.
The most perplexing note was this one:
Dear Dr. Hoffman Iieew gg goukoohoam
miBhftihciemusie
HirecwetegoActee
teieteegigmom
Um . . . wow! That’s great! Keep up the good work.
If DonorsChoose.org is trying to encourage repeat donations, it’s working. I want to give again. I noticed that on M E-L’s challenge page (linked above), there’s an untouched challenge to buy a bunch of kids their own copies of To Kill A Mockingbird. That one’s tempting. (No, you don’t have to donate the whole sum.) And that one to help struggling readers with graphic novels — do you suppose they would let me choose the graphic novels? (Almost anything by Alan Moore — who’s with me on this?) But I think I’ll let Karen look this one over to help me decide.
Kudos to a very cool organization. Check ’em out.
D.
Research
One of the advantages of writing science fiction which is, in truth, a satire on pop culture: I can buy OK! magazine and write it off on my taxes. Or, rather, I could write it off on my taxes if I could ever manage to make any money at this writing biz.
I have to ask myself: which celebrities do I pick on? Madonna and Cher are so yesterday. Paris and Britney have become too pathetic, too self-satirized. People still idolize Brangelina and they still think of Jen as one of their friends and oh, isn’t it so sad how heartbroken she is? There’s emotional investment all around with the Jenbrangelina story, whereas with Partney, who cares? Leave Partney alone, I say. Besides, after you’ve seen some drugged out rich girl’s much-abused stubbly va-jay-jay* in a high rez jpeg, there’s not much else to say.
Inevitably, I’m getting caught up in the Brangelaniston story, too. I’m a sucker for broken hearts and unrequited love, and (even if she is blonde) my heart goes out to a girl who looks like the girl next door, even if my girl next door, growing up, was a sixty-something-year-old nurse. Jen, if I weren’t married, I’d be there for ya, babe.
From OK! . . .
Though she did celebrate her birthday earlier this week with some of the cast and crew of the film, a friend of the actress tells OK!, “Almost every night when she finishes work, Jen goes back to her hotel and eats and drinks by herself. Just as often, her evening is a drink and a book. It’s pretty much what she does most nights in L.A.”
And when she is in L.A., friends say Jen spends most of her time with her white German Shephard Dolly, who she adopted in 2006.
Whom she adopted. But can I use the Jen and Dolly story? You betcha.
Sorry to take advantage of your angst, Jen, but if it’s any consolation, you’re going to be one of the good guys.
D.
*Va-jay-jay: my new word. Stay tuned for the Thursday Cosmo Thirteen: the Va-jay-jay Edition. I wish I were making that up.
It comes with a soundtrack, too
Yes, Balls and Walnuts is excellent. Thank you, Blue Gal! I’d send it right back at ya, but that’s not how the rules work.
The rule is to pass it along to ten (only ten?) other excellent bloggers, and I’ve tried to choose those who have not been chosen already.
Some folks who have made me laugh recently:
sxKitten (okay, okay, so I’m a sucker for lolcats)
The Smart Bitches (not that they need an award, but they are funny as hell)
and
Cintra (I ruv oo 2)
I know many of you won’t meme along with me, but if you’re in a love-sharing mood, go for it.
D.
Can’t write. Gotta cook.
It’s Karen’s b-day dinner. Karen, if you happen to get online in the next few hours, don’t look below the fold.