Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Category Archives: Blogwhoring
MoDo and Borat, your morning snack
Over at Tennessee Guerilla Woman, Egalia has Maureen Dowd’s latest piece, this one comparing humorist Sacha Baron Cohen’s Borat character (a misogynistic, antisemitic, and generally crude form of life) to Bush’n’CheneyCo. JurassicPork has breached the NY Times firewall as well. JP’s Friday roundup has a wealth of good stuff, and Egalia kept me reading for the last thirty minutes.
Read about Borat’s White House “visit” here. And from Reuters:
Secret Service agents turned away British comedian Sacha Baron Cohen, in character as the boorish, anti-Semitic journalist, when he tried to invite “Premier George Walter Bush” to a screening of his upcoming movie, “Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan.”
Also invited to the screening: O.J. Simpson, “Mel Gibsons” and other “American dignitaries.”
Cohen’s stunt was timed to coincide with an official visit by Kazakh President Nursultan Nazarbayev, who is scheduled to meet with Bush on Friday.
Okay, gotta go edit me some romance.
LIVE BLOGGING TONIGHT at 8 PM PST, sooner if I can.
Y’all drop by.
D.
Who else is (wo)man enough for the nekkid challenge?
Over at Writer’s BBS, there’s a custom for noobs: you gotta get nekkid. For those square BBSers, getting nekkid means telling something revealing about yourself.
Here in the blogosphere, getting nekkid means GETTING NEKKID. Hell, as for that other getting nekkid, I do it nearly every day I blog. But for the record, I recently gave you this:
Getting nekkid nekkid, that takes a special breed of cat. Or, should I say, Vixen. Yes, this evening, Dean’s very own SxVixen joined the esteemed ranks of nude bloggers. And not to be one-upped, Dean has done it, too. Nice legs, Dean, but next time smile for the camera. It’s not a high school football team portrait, for heaven’s sake.
Erin O’Brien got the ball rolling, today posting an historical review of nekkid-model- with-chair photography (and she’s right. Christine Keeler really is one hot babe). So the question stands: who is next?
Here’s my short list of folks I think might be just crazy enough to take the nekkid challenge:
Gabriele! Instead of a chair, you can use some strategically positioned chain mail.
Kate! Impress the hell out of your sons. Or squick them out, one of the two.
Kris! You’ve already given us clickable cleavage. Now we want a bit o’ thigh, too.
Candy! You’ll be the talk of the Smart Bitchery.
Monica! I would never forgive my own cowardice if I didn’t include you on this list. I figure you’ll either (A) oblige the request, or (B) come up here and kick my sorry ass. Either way, you’ll be satisfying a fantasy.
No guys on the list . . . imagine that. But of course, you have Dean and me. That should be enough manhood for the whole blogosphere.
D.
P.S.: If I didn’t put you on the list, please do not be offended. The more people I include, the greater the chance someone really will come out here and kick my ass . . . probably some smelly biker named Bubba.
Which is not one of my fantasies.
Kris never peed in the pool? Yeah, right.
Kris Starr has a fun post this morning — how much are you worth? I’m worth only $160.50, which is pathetic, and at my age I doubt I’ll ever see $200.00. Um, $200.50.
As memes go, this one’s quick and kinda fun. Check it out.
D.
The true meaning of slash
I suppose I have a few readers who aren’t Smart Bitches . . . not many, it’s true, but a few. This link is for you:
Candy showcases a YouTube vid of Spock & Kirk TOST bits set to the tune of Nine Inch Nails’ Closer. ‘Nuff said.
From the comments, I found Sarah‘s remarks interesting:
The original meaning of Slash fiction was the “/†between “K†and “S†as in K/S or Kirk/Spock. The very first slash fan fiction was written about these two. So, yeah, makes absolutely sense.
Not that I didn’t believe Sarah, but I had to check. And, guess what? She’s right.
What’s your favorite slash? Just the other day, I read some Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter figging slash . . . but Draco was at the receiving end. So out of character.
D.
Lyvvie knows best
As much as I tried to steer last night’s Live Blogging conversation back towards oral sex, everyone else wanted to talk about different things. Like writing. Or the weather. Or what the Ancient Romans used for sex lube.
Thanks, Lyvvie, for remembering what’s important in life: unscented crotch. Oh yeah baby.
Note to my son: stay away from that link. Here, click on this instead: mend your atheist ways. (Hat tip to Falafel Sex.)
D.
Guest blog-o-rama
I’m all set to guest blog for Kris Starr tomorrow, and I think everything is fixed and ready to go. It should publish at midnight tonight. My time? Kris’s time? Who knows!
It’ll be ready for you by morning. I guarantee you will either (A) clamor to have me as your guest blogger in the future, or (B) delete me from your blogrolls and deny any knowledge of me to your friends and family. One or the other. As for Kris, when she sees what I’ve written about her I suspect she’ll be so angry she’ll fly out here to make all my fantasies come true.
Um, you’ll see.
I’ll be live blogging this evening. If all goes well and if I can motivate my son to get dinner in the reasonably near future, I’ll go live at 7 PM PST. Hopefully, some of you East Coasters will still be up. And Gabriele, I know you’re still up at whatever it is in Germany (2 AM?) Maybe you too, Darla. We’ll see if you have something zusagen.
See ya soon!
D.
Edited to add: Jake wants to go out for dinner at 6, so we’ll get going a leeetle bit after 7, I think.
Things that go kathunk in the night
Kate’s post on why she’s too good for most men is just too funny. The comment thread is priceless, especially my comments, which speak volumes towards why I am too good for most women. Kate, I thought about writing my version of this post, but it kept coming out serious. Being too good . . . well, let’s just say it’s my curse.
And here’s proof.
***
Late last night, we watched the end of Wait Until Dark, a movie which proves Hollywood has been and forever will be* silly. I’m talking Snakes on a Plane silly. If they remade Wait Until Dark today, Samuel L. Jackson would be the cop who storms in at the end, ranting about motherfucking drugs in a motherfucking doll. My favorite part: baddy Alan Arkin (looking incredibly young) douses Audrey Hepburn’s apartment with gasoline to, um, terrorize her. And then for the next fifteen minutes Arkin and Hepburn take turns lighting matches to scare each other.
People. I’ve worked in a burn ward. DO NOT MIX GASOLINE AND MATCHES, ‘kay?
And then there’s the darkness. Audrey Hepburn is blind, so to help the viewers empathize with her horror, much of the climax is shot in the dark. Oy.
Afterwards, we turned out the lights to go to sleep and heard a massive kathunk from the roof.
There is only one Trek
For anyone over forty, the only Star Trek featured a plump guy with thinning hair named Shatner and an odd-looking guy (even without the ears and the makeup) named Nimoy. Patrick Stewart? Feh. If I ever publish my trilogy, you’ll find out what I think of Jean Luc Picard.
Hat tip to Blue Gal for leading me by the nose to a brilliant website full of Star Trek inspirational posters. Go give ’em some love. For now, here’s a teaser — and for the record, I always knew this about McCoy and Spock. They didn’t call McCoy “Bones” for nothing.
If you must talk about something, answer me this: why do blackberries taste so much better off the vine than when they’re store-bought?
D.
Go. Eat a few olives.
Clicking around tonight, feeling lonely cuz I’m on the chat and no one’s around*, feeling doubly lonely cuz my wife and son are playing World of Warcraft, which means I’m all alone except for these people YAPPING ABOUT MANA, yapping so loudly I can’t work on the WiP, so . . .
Go check out Jim Donahue’s Italian travelogue. Great pictures — seriously.
D.
*Edited to add: had LOTS of fun with Dean and SxKitten and Tam. Thanks, guys. Now I have nothing to whine about.
Michelle’s E-list
Here’s some linky love to go with your morning coffee:
Michelle posted a great list of editing tips. No matter how many of these lists I read, I always learn something new.
Michelle has also been infected by the cheesecake meme. First, Dean feted us with calories, and now Michelle wants to make me fat, too. But you won’t see me posting any cheesecake recipes. My son doesn’t like it and my wife never eats more than a slice. I’ll give you one guess who winds up eating 90% of the cheesecake.
I’m feeling loose this morning. Do you have a post you want hyped? Leave a comment, and I’ll give you some hot linky love.
D.