Improbable Fetish of the Week

Y'all, there are quite a few of these pictures on the internet? And this is the safest (read: least clearly graphic) that I could post?) But there exists someone out there who apparently has quite the fetish for pictures of dragons making sweet love to cars. This seems so improbable as to be a serious hoax, but I thought you needed to know. Didn't you?


If you want some more pictures, I can send them to you.


Next week, we hope to have the Tort of the Week; But this week we can share: Things my Family Says.


I am quite irked when people tell me, O your mother is so sweet. No she's not. You just don't know her.


See, like last week, apropos of nothing- well, no. Remember how I told y'all that she was wondering how many times I had done that Senator Craig thing in the Loo? How do you think she expresses this?

"I hope that when we win the lottery, you're not the one that brings the family down."


After I get over my initial shock/horror, I assemble this train of thought in my mind, and coming up with - a lot of interesting assumptions.


One of which is that she's going to win the lottery, which I have always believed is a stupidity tax. I guess it's ok to buy a ticket occasionally, but I hate going into the petrol station. Another assumption- I had to get her to explain this- is that I have a lot of "vices" in comparision to the rest of the family; I am just morally corrupt, y'all!

I stink of moral decay and decadence! You can smell my putrescence! My budget for deodorant alone- it would positively boggle your minds.


Not. And the other assumption is that money creates more vice; I don't THINK so; poor people seem to get in just as much, if not more, trouble than the rich do.


Anyway, I was all insulted.

And then another thing she did- she calls Alex up and asks him- So you were looking for pillows for your bed?

Now Alex was, or is, actually, in need of bed pillows. BUT he knows better. He knows that she won't have, you know, actually BOUGHT these pillows. She won't have FOUND them- inside her own house. He knows from whence they came.

She found them in the garbage, and Alex was understandably loath to put his head on something that came from the garbage. For some reason she sees nothing wrong with this.


O and then Trey and I have been having problems- or really A problem- which is that he is an immature party boy. "Superannuated Party Boy" would make a good SNL character. He's pushing 40 and still acts like he's 17.

Some of which would be all right if he A) took care of his home responsibilities and B) the people he chose to do this with weren't so- AWFUL.

Like he made "friends" with this one chap Jacob. The first time I met Jacob, he came over with Denise and some chap who looked just like the caricatures of Edgar Allan Poe. So Jacob asks me, did I put honey in the beer.

Probably, I say, I don't remember what went in what precisely.


Oh! He says very disdainfully! Well, I SUPPOSE I can drink it, I'm a VEGAN, you know.


So I took an instant dislike to him, because first he's being obnoxious, and then he's being stupid, because how do you exploit a bee? They're like, workers by definition. I mean, they're BUGS. I can understand and sort of accept the whole anti-factory farming argument. Pigs probably have feelings and some degree of self awareness. Cows might, although you try teaching a cow to do a trick. Chickens- anyone who has spent time around chickens learns to loathe them. So I'm pretty sure it's ok to eat chickens, besides, leg quarters are like 40 CENTS a pound, cheaper than many sorts of vegetable.

But you can't exploit an INSECT, ok? No. To have met Jacob is to understand why people detested Truman Capote when he was alive.


Anyway, Trey and I have been fighting, and so Freddy points out that if I break up with Trey, I can do the Internet dating thing.


I tried that, I say, It didn't work.


Well, you could date women, he says.


Um. No, remember, I tried that, and for a very few very significant reasons (one comes to mind) that did not work out. You would think after 6 years of very obvious flamboyance; I mean, pronounced, clear, unmistakable, prone-to-tiara-emergency-having flamboyance; everyone would know!


But on a lighter note! Guess who ironed his shirt WHILE HE WAS WEARING IT! (not I) And this was only a couple of months ago! He said, well, he had it on- and he didn't want to be late, so he just ironed the wrinkly part while it was on him. He managed not to burn himself but reported also "it didn't work out all that well."

Armless Man in Fight

http://www.wsbtv.com/news/14138164/detail.html

Y'all, all we really have is a couple more links for your happy happy fun fun day. I'm all busy memo writing and vice presidenting of the Hispanic Student Bar Association and Hillary hating so here are a couple more.

http://jezebel.com/gossip/top/vulva-the-perfume-of-the-panty+minded-287247.php

There is apparently a perfume that smells like- well, remember how Sara said she was allergic to fish, and I said that I was allergic to something else, and even if I only got one-little-tiny-drop of it on me, my throat would swell up and I would DIE, and Alex nearly drove the car into a bridge abutment?

Well there's a perfume that is supposed to smell like that, and I am going to write a lot about this as soon as I get a chance. I guess all of the people (ALEX) who are really scared that like, one day, the BIG GAY FAIRY (Divine) is just going to WAVE HER MAGIC cinnamon broom and he's going to wake up with SAUSAGE LUST- are going to buy this in huge quantities.

If I had any money, I would definitely buy this for Eurythmas for Alex. Oooh! Just think of all the things I COULD be saying . . . and am NOT.

Ok, speaking of things I won't eat- - -

http://www.weirdmeat.com/2004/04/weird-meat-master-list.html

Cruella Dearest Answers Your Senator Craig Questions!

O Cruella Dearest;

What do you think about that Senator from Idaho?

Doesn't that say it all? I - - da - - ho. Yes, Senator Craig, apparently you really are.

O Cruella Dearest;

What is your mother thinking about this?

if you know my mother, you know exactly what she is thinking. She is wondering how often I have done this hook-up-in-the-loo thing.

Now how do I know this?

Because, I was 23, and going to visit my friend in NY and she tells me, now don't go and catch any diseases!

So apparently she thought (let HER explain why she thought this) that I was going to spend the entire trip in the Newark men's room exchanging crack for sexual favours, which NO I DID NOT DO THIS. Ok? I just played a whore, once, at Halloween. NOT in real life. No. I did not have sex at all in NY.

Also she has that motherly personality which prevents you from ever thinking your child is going to accomplish anything good in his/her life- like she thinks I take out my Dayplanner and write in it, HOW TO DISAPPOINT MY MOTHER TODAY.

Here is what my schedule looks like to her:
7:30 smoke,

8:00 get up late,

8:30 miss work,

8:45-5:30 stay home and drink Aqua Net,

5:45 get fired,

6:15 go around with a black man

7:00 spend my savings on crack

7:45 get into a lot of debt to buy crack

8:15 get fat

9:45 go play in a men's room

10:15 contract a disease

She's like a Jewish mother without the culinary ability. She also thinks the car is part of this plot; I purchased this car just to disappoint her. Anyway, just for those of y'all who know her? I have NEVER done anything like that in a men's room and you should tell her. Seriously. She's all worried about it, and she will feel better.

O Cruella Dearest, How does this work anyway?

Like I said, I've never done it, so I have no idea. Not only that but whatever these signals are that are supposedly well known? I missed that day in "turning you GAY" school, along with the day on how to keep your house clean. But it's crowded enough with one dude and a toilet and then two men and a toilet and apparently a piece of luggage- how do the mechanics work? Because all of the positions I can think of- there just isn't enough space to accommodate. Is it like how many people you can cram in a phone booth? And for me- I can't have SEX where people have been peeing! smelly, hard concrete floors and all. EWWW. I do not understand how this works, and also how do you KNOW all these 'signals?' If someone were signaling to me- it would have to be extremely obvious, as in, I want to fuck you right now they would have to actually tell me. If someone tapped their foot and waved their hand under the door - I wouldn't think anything of it, I don't sit around and meditate in loos. It is safe to say I am fairly oblivious too. They just go and hook up, right there? In a literal (pardon me delicate-minded readers, I do not like to write this-) shithole? I suppose one aspect of this which never fails to amaze me is that the people getting caught are always people who should bloody well know better. Like some principal a few years ago was caught trolling for kids he met on the Internet in Northlake Mall. There's enough publicity about this that even in -I-da-ho- everyone should know better.


O Cruella Dearest- I am considering becoming a policeman. How do I get/avoid this duty?

Well, now we're really venturing into I'm clueless territory. I've never been a policeman or really known any very well- and then I've never had any out of the ordinary dealings with men's rooms, but I would be a little conflicted about -you know- having to sit in a men's loo all day and bust potential pervs, instead of, you know, arresting really dangerous criminals and protecting the public from say, jaywalkers. Are they assigned this duty when they are bad? As in, Fletcher! You wrecked another squad car! You know what that means! No sir, I promise! I won't do it again! My insurance will pay! Honest! Fletcher! Another word and I'll make it a whole month of loo duty! And then do they get mocked (what sort of question is that, of course they do) by their colleagues? Ooo, Fletcher, you're on LOO duty again! You must really like it, etc. And how do they explain this to their families? Hi, honey, I'm home, O hi dear, how was your day, why do you smell like piss? Well, they put me in the airport loo again and I tried to arrest this guy but he turned out to be a peeing mime and was just - miming.

In all seriousness, I'm surprised at someone's career being shot down in flames when- really- there's no substantive crime being committed here. No one ever had sex in this case, like Mark Foley- although that doesn't really justify what Foley did- it's unprofessional to send dirty chat to pages who know who you are - but my understanding is that the grounds for the moral offense convictions are that they were thinking about it? There aren't any ACTUAL sex acts here; just some lewd discussion in the one case and toe-tapping in the other. So should we be able to convict someone for embezzling money on the grounds that say, they regularly visited the websites of purveyors of luxury goods they can't afford- showing some sort of intent? I think we're treading onto dangerous Big-Brother grounds here.

The Bugs! The Bugs!

Y'all, we are suffering a serious infestation of roaches, it's like a biblical plague, except for A) despite my best efforts, I am not Pharaoh; and B) I am not keeping some Jews enslaved (again, despite my best efforts) Although I really think that was one of the mistakes of the ancient Egyptians, going and enslaving Jews; then I see modern day Jews- and they seem to think manual labour is called that 'cos it's done by Manuel. . . The Egyptians must have had some really motivating management books to make Jews do heavy labour.

Who moved my 20-ton block of stone?
or Getting to Yes! Whip less, cheer more.
The seven habits of highly effective slaves.

!Like y'all read this thinking I'm going to be politically correct! So don't be all shocked.

But back to the roaches. The roaches, like the poor, have always been with us, it's just that they're now EVERYWHERE, and in EVERYTHING- and I'm fairly tolerant? Because I READ Silent Spring, so I'm more afraid of the poison than I am of the roaches? It's like when I cook, all the roaches come out and wave their feelers at me in greeting, like in War of The Worlds. "We come in peace," they tell me.

Then I squash them and feed them to the fish.

I did try spraying them; the roaches laugh at this in the same way '50's movie monsters shrug off bullets and such; they have adapted the Nietzschien attitude, 'what doesn't kill me makes me stronger' and the only thing that is effective thus far has been squashing them and feeding them to the fish. This is actually nice because during my breaks from my law studies, I can go play Whack-a-Roach.

I think the roaches could be trying to be my friends; I am not sure how I am to feel about this. On the one hand, no one comes to visit me anymore, so I dont' have to be concerned about anyone being offended or being driven off; I could be like the Crazy Cat Lady, but with roaches, and I could train them and command them. Seriously- when we were going to move, I was going to pack up all the spiders and take them with us to our next house. Then again, that is REALLY weird.

Perhaps the problem here is more of a perception thing. People like lady bugs, right? They're all cute and whatever, and they're basically the same thing, beetles, except prettier-

So the solution could be to paint the roaches with nail varnish so that we have brightly coloured bugs everywhere, and that would drive the alcoholics I know straight out of their minds-

Or we need a campaign to rehabilitate roaches. Ants and bees are generally admired for their industry; Why are roaches not considered industrious? They seem at least as hard working as ants, and they might be peaceful, which ants are decidedly not-
We need to also come up with a better name than 'cockroaches,' I think that some people call them "water bugs," or "palmetto bugs," so we need to make this more widespread. And come up with some good Reader's Digest Very Special articles to rehabilitate them, like:

Palmetto Bugs: Nature's way of cleaning in places where even your undocumented Guatemalan maid, Esmerelda, does not clean.

Palmetto Bugs: The first step in Nature's Renewal process.

Palmetto Bugs: Tasty, Nutritious, and Cheap! (o and you are all like, EEEWWWW, right? Well, did you ever foresee the day when ordinary people pay good money for what comes out of the tap for basically free? or there were 15 different kinds of salt in the grocery store, and they cost more than steak per pound? Or that Bon Appetit would announce that "beef cheeks" are a delicacy and we should go buy them and cook them?)

Palmetto Bugs: Your cat eats them; you should too.

Palmetto Bugs: How nature recycles, only not controlled by the mob.

Now see, there's another good idea. What we should do is develop some sort of mutant-mob type Grasshopper, like in A Bug's Life, and then when they see a roach, they fit it with little concrete boots and drop it in the aquarium. Or Communist Grasshoppers, with the same methodologies. I guess I could put up with pictures of Che Grasshopper everywhere.

I could http://www.boston.com/news/globe/ideas/articles/2007/09/09/lawyer_for_the_dog/? page=full sue the bugs- if you see the article, there's apparently precedent for that, but then again, I'm just a 1L, and you know that among the roaches, there will be some powerful lawyers-

Or shouldn't there be some sort of crack for bugs? You know, they get hooked, eat too much of it, all their teeth fall out and they wear skimpy outfits and accost strangers? No, that would be bad, nothing reproduces faster than a crack whore-

I could give them tiny guns and encourage them to shoot each other-.

I dunno. What we will do is bomb the house, and then after that I am waiting (not really) for y'all to come up with some good ideas.

The waves are Chinese, but the Earth is an Indian thing.

Two short and fairly uninteresting things;

I heard Bill Clinton on NPR this morning and was immediately reminded of how thoroughly revolting he is/was; he was promoting a new book about Giving- and of course you know what my first thought was- and his "most astonishing story" was about some Mississippi washerwoman who dropped out of grade school to care for a sick relative and worked until she passed at 87, saving her pennies, and she never had a car but pushed the grocery cart a mile to the grocery store, and she gave $150,000 in savings to some college to endow a scholarship.

I cannot express how absolutely disgusting this is, and how repulsive this looter mentality is.

The point of this story is that it's somehow ennobling to spend your life in miserable service to someone else and deny yourself the things you want so someone who is already ahead of you can get further ahead. Yay for her, right? Or what? Who would choose this? WHY?

You know it's one thing to be entirely selfish, and only concerned with getting ahead and making a buck or whatever it is, but this is much, much worse, because this person is not only selfish, but rather than hoeing their own row, they beg that someone else hoe it for them, and then throw out weak platitudes of gratitude. Ugh.

Communism died- almost- there are apparently even people who are writing books now to rehabilitate (?!) Stalin, mass murderer extraordinaire- but the bad ideas that created it live on, and on, and on, personified in the Clintons. I've been trying to figure out for the longest exactly WHAT it is that terrifies me about Hillary Clinton, and it's this mentality. This we-know-better-than-you-do tobacco taxing puritanical sensibility combined with the attitude that you don't really own what you produce, and that this - slaving away for 80 years and pinching pennies to give it all to us is now- admirable.

O and I always make fun of Alex, because his favourite book is "On The Road" ( I couldn't figure out how to underline) and it's the 50th anniversary of the publication of "On The Road."
Y'all, I was almost about to ask Alex to borrow it so that I could read it? And then I read this article? And I was happy that I did not. Truman Capote was right, it's not writing, it's just typing.

So wait, I just had this brilliant insight.

Why do writers like Kerouac put down this endless stream of non-ideas? Like Hemingway or Conrad? And why do men find it appealing?

Because the vast majority of men admire, and I'm making vast, sweeping generalisations, Homogenity. Ok? Like the preferred communication of men is to sit around and know that the other men around them are thinking more or less the same thoughts. That is why you can have a couple of guys sit together and drink beer and watch a game and not talk a lot. They feel comforted that the other guy is having more or less the same ideas and feelings that they are having. Therefore, they don't want to read about surprising new ideas, or to feel someone else's feelings which might be different from their own.

And, other insight, truly patriarchal societies emphasise homogenity.

Think about it, that's why there are always uniforms for any sort of entirely male group. The Army- Shriners- you name it, they seek homogenity.

Women want to analyse all the differences between themselves and the other people around them. That's why they look each other up and down to figure out where they stand. Guys do this too but much less.

Anyway I'm all out of thought.