Balls and Walnuts
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Shamelessly pandering to the women in my audience
. . . plus, what is it? 10% of guys?
Check out The Pretty Boys Club if you want proof that gay guys have the best bodies.
As for why I’m looking at a gay blog: they’re the #3 humor blog at blogtopsites, and I like to check out the competition. All the competition.
Besides — those chiselled bodies serve to remind me that I would totally suck as a gay guy.
D.
PS:
On the subject of sucking, Atrios has an interesting snip regarding the Orthodox Jewish practice of metzitzah b’peh (oral suctioning of the infant penis after circumcision). I’d encountered that bit of trivia when I researched my recent post on circumcision, but I figured it had to be apocryphal. Guess not.
Another evil meme
Thank Suisan for this one.
Seven Things To Do Before I Die:
You know, I wanted to write a few funny one-liners for that one, but “Before I Die” is such a buzz-kill that I have to take the blasted thing seriously. Sorry, “Go on Southeast Asian sex junket” will have to stay off the list. For now.
1. Go to Europe and wander around to my heart’s content.
2. Sell my novel, go on a book tour, and have dozens of screaming teenage girls line up so that I can autograph their breasts.
3. Bake one of those big, fat, fancy pastry things Tony Shalhoub makes at the end of Big Night.
4. Tour the world and meet all of y’all.
5. Watch Michelle Malkin and Ann Coulter bitch-slap each other silly on Meet the Press. That’s not a joke. I really want to see that before I die.
6. See my wife regain her health.
7. See my son grow up into a responsible, caring adult.
Seven Things I Cannot Do:
1. Speak Chinese (except for “Hoa hoa hoa,” which means, “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” and “Aya!” which means, “Get outa here!”)
2. Program a VCR.
3. Fix my car, or fix any damn thing, for that matter.
4. Not get angry at Jake (that’s his suggestion).
5. Respect George W. Bush.
6. Kick ass in a shooter (any Unreal Tournament fans out there?)
7. Die, unless someone chops off my head with one fat mofo of a sword, in which case he’ll get all my power. There can be only one!
Seven Things That Attract Me To My Spouse (or Significant Other, Best Friend, etc.)
1. Her bravery.
2. She knows how to fix stuff.
3. She’s smarter than me.
4. She can balance a checkbook and keep me out of financial trouble.
5. She laughs at my jokes.
6. She’s a hell of a critter.
7. She’s not repulsed by my body.
Seven Things I Say (or Write) Most Often:
1. Jake!
2. Karen, hit the mute. This is funny!
3. Kitty, goddammit!
4. No.
5. Gimme some sugar, baby (inspired by Bruce Campbell, natch).
6. (To patients) What can I do for you today?
7. (To patients) Eeeeeew!
Catrina, one of my office staff, has asked me to add:
8. *SIGH*
9. Am I done yet?
Seven Books (or Series) I love:
1. The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler
2. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
3. Terry Pratchett’s Diskworld books
4. John LeCarre’s George Smiley novels
5. John D. Fitzgerald’s Great Brain books (loved ’em as a kid)
6. As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner
7. Martin Cruz Smith’s Arkady Renko novels
Seven Movies I Would Watch Over and Over Again:
1. The Godfather, because it promotes good family values.
2. Truly, Madly, Deeply, for reasons mentioned here.
3. Gross Point Blank, for the screenplay, and for John Cusack, of course.
4. Prophecy, for the screenplay, and for Christopher Walken.
5. Young Frankenstein, because Teri Garr was so yummy. And, I love the scene at the end with the monster in bed with Madeline Kahn.
6. Army of Darkness, for the screenplay, and for Bruce Campbell.
7. The Exorcist, because it keeps getting funnier every time.
Seven People I Want To Join In (Be Tagged)
1. My newest pal, Blue Gal.
2. Beth, because I know she’ll never forgive me for it.
3. Candy, to punish her for not coming around here lately.
4. Pat Kirby, cuz I know she can dish it.
5. Darla, so she’ll take a break from all that theorizin’.
6. Gabriele, so she’ll shame us with her list of books she loves.
7. Lilith, cuz she’s wonky on pain meds (sorry to hear it, Lili) and needs distraction.
D.
Maureen Dowd, reigning queen of one-liners
Reprinted in full by Tennessee Guerilla Women, Maureen Dowd’s latest column, “Hot Monkey Love,” is packed with sizzling one-liners:
But this time, [President Bush] may want to think twice before strapping on a Texas-shaped belt buckle. W. might inadvertently conjure up images of Bushback Mountain.
The High Plains, one of the few remaining arenas where men were men, may now evoke something more ambiguous, like men with men. After “Brokeback Mountain,” pitching that pup tent on the prairie will never seem the same.
Can a culture built on laconic cowboys like John Wayne and Clint Eastwood survive one rough-hewn cowboy crooning to another, as Jake Gyllenhaal’s Jack Twist tells Heath Ledger’s Ennis Del Mar, “Sometimes I miss you so much, I can hardly stand it,” and, “I wish I knew how to quit you”?
Everything will have to be re-evaluated. “High Plains Drifter” now sounds like a guy who might get arrested in a bus station bathroom. And audiences may be ready for “The Good, the Bad and the Bad Hair Day.”
Hollywood is busy sensitizing – and emotionally layering – archetypal macho guys, including our most famous alpha male. He’s still strong and decisive. His back’s as hairy as ever*. But it’s just not the same Kong.
This lovable overgrown monkey is more like the brooding, wounded and steadfast romantic heroes Heathcliff and Rick Blaine. Like Jane Austen’s Mr. Darcy, Peter Jackson’s big ape goes for gals with spunk. He likes babes who juggle more than jiggle.
This gorilla doesn’t go around tossing “gorilla dust,” as Ross Perot used to call it, just to get into another alpha’s space. He doesn’t look for a T. Rex simply to rip its jaws apart – he only protects his loved ones. He’d rather hang out on his mountain, enjoying the sunset and watching his gal juggle and do pratfalls.
And much, much more.
D.
*Maybe I have a chance as a romantic lead after all.
Technorati tags: Maureen Dowd Bush Gay King Kong Dubya Dowd Brokeback Mountain
Ooh, I love this bit.
Here’s where I’m at in the editing of The Brakan Correspondent. For those of you who haven’t heard me talking about this, the Huurans are wingless birds with arms and hands. That’s all the set-up you need.
The alarm was especially loud for those unfortunate enough to be stationed ten feet from the speakers.
“You wanna check that out?†said the cock named Govil.
“Nuh-uh. You?†said his partner, the one they called Bard.
“One of us oughta. You see anything on the monitors?â€
Bard shook his head and passed Govil a small spiral notepad.
“This one’s a keeper,†said Bard. “I feel it in my blood.â€
Govil read the wide, childish scrawl: Spring is the croolest month. Sigh!
“Croolest, eh?†said Govil. “I like that. You gonna put some torture in it?â€
Bard snagged the notepad and gave Govil an injured look. “It ain’t about torture. It’s about the essential emptiness of the Huuran spirit.â€
Govil clucked and studied the monitors. Boring, every single one. And still that damned alarm kept screaming like an eastside hen in heat.
“It’s a shame,†he said, flicking the switch that killed the alarm. “I would read a poem about torture. Anyway, how come you only write first lines? That’s all I ever see outa you.â€
“It’s cuz that first line’s so important. A poem from the heart, first line to last, it has to go on and on like it can’t go no other way.â€
“A sense of inevitability?†said Govil.
“Whatever.â€
Something flickered on the monitor for loading dock B.
“You see that?†said Govil.
“What?â€
“Ah, fluff it. We can both check it out.â€
D.
J. Edgar Bush
Apologies to those of you who dislike political posts, but there’s too much going on lately for me to ignore.
Meet the Bobbsie twins:
Props to Senate Democrats for growing a pair (several pairs, actually) yesterday. They defeated the extension of George W. Bush’s Patriot Act, and thank heavens for that.
Snip from the Yahoo News article linked above:
“We need to be more vigilant,” agreed Sen. John Sununu, a Republican from New Hampshire, where the state motto is “Live Free or Die.” He quoted Benjamin Franklin: “Those that would give up essential liberty in pursuit of a little temporary security deserve neither liberty nor security.”
Meanwhile, as long as we’re on the subject of liberty, Dubya is taking some much-needed heat for his program of warrantless wiretaps of American citizens. Bipartisan disgust in Little Brother’s tactics will undoubtedly lead to Congressional hearings. Another snip from Yahoo News:
“There is no doubt that this is inappropriate,” declared Republican Sen. Arlen Specter of Pennsylvania, chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee. He promised hearings early next year.
This 2002 article at the History News Network, entitled “J. Edgar Ashcroft?” by Marjorie Cohn, covers the comparison of Hoover’s America versus America post-9/11. We’ve learned a lot since then; perhaps most significantly, we’ve learned that Bush himself authored many of the current civil rights violations.
Full coverage at The Huffington Post, with interesting commentary at The Washington note here and here. Finally, over at Daily Kos, SusanG reports that in Bush’s radio address, “Bush acknowledged authorizing warrantless eavesdropping on U.S. citizens more than a dozen times – and he vowed to continue to do so.”
Snip:
“This authorization is a vital tool in our war against the terrorists. It is critical to saving American lives. The American people expect me to do everything in my power, under our laws and Constitution, to protect them and their civil liberties and that is exactly what I will continue to do as long as I am president of the United States,” Bush said.
Protect them and their civil liberties? No one’s buying it, Little Brother.
D.
Technorati tags:
patriot act, Civil Liberties, bush, wiretap, J. Edgar Hoover
Review of Intergalactic Medicine Show premier
Top of the heap at Tangent Online, at least for the moment, is my review of Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show, an e-zine that features a short story by Card and seven other short stories.
Highlight of this review: at long last, Eugie has had to take her red pen to my immortal words. She didn’t like the word ‘fugliest,’ as in,
The premier issue of Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show features Card’s “Mazer in Prison,†seven other stories (some good, some not so good), and the fugliest Prairie Muffin ever to appear on SF cover art.
. . . choosing instead the phrase, “most unappealing.” Well, at least she kept “Prairie Muffin.” Take a look at the cover, and tell me I’m wrong.
I wish I could say I loved this collection, but I can’t. It’s a mixed bag, with three fine stories, and four that range from disappointing to [insert snarky adjective here]. Angry authors, feel free to leave your comments below.
For those of you who came here expecting humor, all I have are two great links from this morning’s YesButNoButYes (they’re currently running a story about a teddy bear with a butthole):
Santa Troubles: Claymation Santa’s DUI.
Woomba: 21st Century feminine hygeine.
Enjoy.
D.
My dorm was never this much fun
At the University of Western Ontario, the now notorious Saugeen Stripper hosted a lap dance for several of her male dormie friends.
By the way — that link? Not work-safe.
Tickle me, Elmo. You know how I like it.
I lived in a co-ed dorm at Berkeley, and I’m telling you, no one got laid, except maybe my roommate, and from the way his girl whimpered afterwards, I’m not sure anything really happened. There may have been a wee bit too much alcohol involved. (Oh — how do I know this? They thought I was asleep. Riiiight.)
But no one got laid at the University of Western Ontario strip tease, as far as we know, so perhaps I’m asking too much from my college memories. Then again . . . damn. We didn’t even play strip poker. We played Spades and Bridge, that’s how boring we were. The deliciously zaftig Andrea gave out hugs to any guy who looked pathetic enough to need one; that’s the closest we ever came to a strip tease.
Oh, wait. I’m remembering something else. Once, when some drunk-off-his-ass jerk set off the fire alarm in the middle of the night and we all rushed downstairs in the cold of winter, J., the girl I lost to Mr. Blue-Eyed Jesus, had wrapped herself in a bathrobe — too hastily, it seems, since my friend Stan got an eyeful of her booty and told me about it in the morning. That was my second-biggest dorm thrill, next to free hugs from Andrea.
Poor “I Wuv Punk” Russell, he desperately wanted to get laid, but his was a hopeless case. Remember Peter Billingsley, the kid who played Ralphie in A Christmas Story? Picture a six-foot-tall Ralphie. Yes, every bit as geeky-looking as Ralphie, and with a voice that cracked on every other word. Russell got nowhere. Not even Andrea would hug him. I think they based The 40 Year Old Virgin on Russell.
So, high school seniors, don’t get fooled into thinking co-ed dorms are an E-ticket to hot strip tease shows and unlimited mind-blowing sex. They’re not.
Or maybe that was just Berkeley’s problem.
D.
Feeling sluggish today
Remember the old (really old) Saturday Night Live skit about Puppy Uppers and Doggy Downers? I need some Puppy Uppers. One mug of coffee and too much Christmas chocolate to mention — well, it’s just not cutting it.
This day seems like it’s lasting forever.
Best line of the day:
I ask my pediatric patient if he has any more questions.
Patient: “Yeah. Where do kitties come from?”
Me: “Mama cats.”
Patient: “Cool!”
I thought about doing the old, “The mama cat and the daddy cat loved each other very, very much” routine, but then I would have started imitating cats having sex (“Rrooowerrrowr yeeeow rrowllllreeeeer yowelllrrowl!”) and someone would have reported me to the State Board for sure.
It’s only a matter of time.
D.
PS: Oy. I’ve been edged out of the BlogTopSites #22 spot by a blogger who posts shopping lists. Shopping lists.
Ching ching
Karen’s watching Law and Order.
Again.
If I confront her on this, I know what she’ll say. “There’s nothing else on.” But I know the truth. We all know the truth, the unspeakable, shameful truth: Karen is a Law and Order addict.
A moment ago, desperate for some shred of hope, I googled support group for Law and Order addicts, and found this page. Here are some excerpts:
“but there i was, again, glued to the TV for what seems like an endless parade of episodes of Law & Order. i’m beginning to realize that you can see this wonderful, wonderful show (or one of it’s spinoffs) at almost any time during the day or night on one channel or another.”
“I wish there were something like a methadone clinic for us addicts.”
“When I found out that TNT and USA were playing different episodes at the same time, I couldn’t handle it. I cracked. I sold my baby girl into white slavery and used the money to buy a second TV.”
Okay, I made that last one up, but can we at least begin to talk about Chronic Ohrbachitis and the dreaded Waterston Ache? (Yes, it’s true: Law and Order addiction is no innocent dependency; it’s a disease.) Even CNN.com acknowledges the seriousness of this problem.
Are you an addict? Take this simple test. Read the first the first five words of the next paragraph, and then close your eyes. If you can finish the paragraph without peeking, you’re an addict.
“In the criminal justice system, [OKAY, CLOSE ‘EM!] the people are represented by two separate, yet equally-important groups — the police, who investigate crime, and the district attorneys, who prosecute the offenders. These are their stories.â€
And who, Mr. Know-it-all Unseen Voice, Mr. “I hyphenate adverb-adjective pairings,” who represents the spouses of Law and Order addicts?
Then, a few years ago, the cancer metastasized. Law and Order begat CI, CSI, SVU, SUV, FBI, IOU, and ESP. With each of these spinoffs ripping their stories fresh from the headlines, what will we do when there are no headlines left to rip?
D.