Thursday, June 18, 2009
Live Earth
This is so cool. I just went looking for something on television and saw a Dish Network channel (212) called Earth. Apparently it's been up since April 22.
Using a camera mounted on one of their satellites, they send these live views of our beautiful orb 24/7. How cool is that?
I just shot this photo about 15 minutes ago...
Using a camera mounted on one of their satellites, they send these live views of our beautiful orb 24/7. How cool is that?
I just shot this photo about 15 minutes ago...
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Sex Pole: How Often Do You Think About It?
Already. As soon as I typed the words "sex" and "pole" I was all over it.
That was a typo. Should be Sex POLL. See? I'm incorrigible.
I tried to take a nap today and soon as I started to relax my mind drifted to sex. Anal. Oral. Swapping fluids. 69. Doing it on a set of uneven bars.
Yesterday I took some Facebook quiz -- can't even remember the subject matter -- but one of the questions was "how often do you think about sex?" and I was shocked at the multiple choice answers. I swear one of them was ZERO. Or maybe zero to one. The highest option was six or more! Really? Just six or more? Like eight or nine?
I don't think an hour passes in a day when I don't think about sex 6-9 times at least (oh damn, there's that 6 & 9 again!).
If I'm around a group of gay guys I think about sex. Not because I want them necessarily (9 times out of 10 they are not my type), but I know we share a common interest: the love of dick. So how can I be expected to block that thought from my mind?
If I'm around a group of straight women I think about sex. Not because I'm attracted to women, but we share that common interest again.
Being in the company of lesbians makes me think about sex because I can't help but be relieved that we aren't in competition for the dick.
If I'm with a group of straight guys, I'm probably least likely to think about sex... unless one or more of them happens to be hot as hell. And then you can bet I'll be thinking about it. Fantasies are healthy. Dude, if only you liked dudes!
You would think a visit to the doctor would take my mind off sex. But the last time I had a physical I thought about nothing but sex. The doctor was hot and he stuck his finger up my ass. I'm supposed to NOT think about sex in that situation?
Certain pictures make me think about sex. I run across this one from time to time and it is most definitely a trigger.
Some road signs even make me think of sex.
We have wild mushrooms that spring up in the yard at certain times of the year and those get me pumped up for sex.
During every New Year celebration you can bet your tight ass I'm going to see a display that makes me want to experiment with something new and fun.
I can't even go out and do any gardening and getting in touch with nature without thinking about sex.
It's a bit of a wee little fella though.
Who doesn't love a festive parade? Well, some of those even make me horny.
I could travel the world in an effort to escape this curse, and I'd be thinking about sex in a souvenir shop.
Museums most definitely cause me to think about sex, and oh Lordy, how I wish I could touch the sculpture. Or sit on it. There's almost a thrill a day there for every day in February. How creative.
And despite the fact that I work in advertising, even advertising makes my private parts tingle. Want some cream with that coffee?
Is that an ad for coffee or underwear? Doesn't matter; underwear ads make me horny too. What a fine piece of masturbilia!
Soap on a Rope reminds me of the open communal showers in the college dorm, and we know what I was thinking then, don't we?
(Whewww, I can smell that shit from here!)
Even reading the name David Duchovny in print makes me want to go shopping for sausage. Music provides no respite either.
Reading this blog post makes me want to shag. Hell, I was thinking about sex when I came up with the idea!
But I digress.
So, back to the question, how many times a day do you think about sex? And be honest; I won't respect you in the morning if you lie.
I'll check back in later... we're having veggie burgers with fries tonight. So I need to go wash some potatoes.
That was a typo. Should be Sex POLL. See? I'm incorrigible.
I tried to take a nap today and soon as I started to relax my mind drifted to sex. Anal. Oral. Swapping fluids. 69. Doing it on a set of uneven bars.
Yesterday I took some Facebook quiz -- can't even remember the subject matter -- but one of the questions was "how often do you think about sex?" and I was shocked at the multiple choice answers. I swear one of them was ZERO. Or maybe zero to one. The highest option was six or more! Really? Just six or more? Like eight or nine?
I don't think an hour passes in a day when I don't think about sex 6-9 times at least (oh damn, there's that 6 & 9 again!).
If I'm around a group of gay guys I think about sex. Not because I want them necessarily (9 times out of 10 they are not my type), but I know we share a common interest: the love of dick. So how can I be expected to block that thought from my mind?
If I'm around a group of straight women I think about sex. Not because I'm attracted to women, but we share that common interest again.
Being in the company of lesbians makes me think about sex because I can't help but be relieved that we aren't in competition for the dick.
If I'm with a group of straight guys, I'm probably least likely to think about sex... unless one or more of them happens to be hot as hell. And then you can bet I'll be thinking about it. Fantasies are healthy. Dude, if only you liked dudes!
You would think a visit to the doctor would take my mind off sex. But the last time I had a physical I thought about nothing but sex. The doctor was hot and he stuck his finger up my ass. I'm supposed to NOT think about sex in that situation?
Certain pictures make me think about sex. I run across this one from time to time and it is most definitely a trigger.
Some road signs even make me think of sex.
We have wild mushrooms that spring up in the yard at certain times of the year and those get me pumped up for sex.
During every New Year celebration you can bet your tight ass I'm going to see a display that makes me want to experiment with something new and fun.
I can't even go out and do any gardening and getting in touch with nature without thinking about sex.
It's a bit of a wee little fella though.
Who doesn't love a festive parade? Well, some of those even make me horny.
I could travel the world in an effort to escape this curse, and I'd be thinking about sex in a souvenir shop.
Museums most definitely cause me to think about sex, and oh Lordy, how I wish I could touch the sculpture. Or sit on it. There's almost a thrill a day there for every day in February. How creative.
And despite the fact that I work in advertising, even advertising makes my private parts tingle. Want some cream with that coffee?
Is that an ad for coffee or underwear? Doesn't matter; underwear ads make me horny too. What a fine piece of masturbilia!
Soap on a Rope reminds me of the open communal showers in the college dorm, and we know what I was thinking then, don't we?
(Whewww, I can smell that shit from here!)
Even reading the name David Duchovny in print makes me want to go shopping for sausage. Music provides no respite either.
Reading this blog post makes me want to shag. Hell, I was thinking about sex when I came up with the idea!
But I digress.
So, back to the question, how many times a day do you think about sex? And be honest; I won't respect you in the morning if you lie.
I'll check back in later... we're having veggie burgers with fries tonight. So I need to go wash some potatoes.
President Obama Stops Short Again
Mr. Obama,
First of all, I'd like to request you return my $15 campaign contribution. I was obviously drunk when I made the donation because I sincerely believed in my out-of-body experience that you were going to be the president of ALL the people, that you would truly be the agent of hope and change, and that we would be turning a long-awaited corner on LGBTQ issues. Or at the very least LGBT. Or, realistically, LG issues. In my sober heart, I knew better.
I suppose you think by signing that memorandum today which extends job benefits to same-sex partners of federal employees, that all of us will feel placated and will perhaps shut the fuck up for awhile. Sorry, no can do.
As a goodwill gesture, based on the value of this benefit as a percentage of my contribution, I will let you keep 50-cents. If and when you decide to aggressively pursue genuine equality for us, while using your brilliant charisma to swing Congress to our causes where necessary, I'll gradually return portions of my donation based on my perceived value.
Extend full health insurance coverage to same-sex partners: $1.50
Repeal DADT: $3.00
Repeal DOMA: $3.00
End the war in Iraq: $4.00
Close Gitmo: $3.00
There's so much more, but that would be a nice start. More than 10% of your first term in office is already behind you. If this were a movie which I'd paid to see, I'd already be yawning at this point and checking my watch.
Here's the disconnect: civil rights and equality for all should be an integral part of that "broader agenda," Mr. President. That is, or so I've been led to believe, the backbone of what the United States of America is as a nation.
I don't expect my voice alone to hold much sway. But look around you, Mr. President; when the New York Times begins to criticize you in an editorial, you might want to consider recalibrating.
And the New York Times is being too kind. When progressive liberal bloggers start chewing off chunks of your backside, you know you've got a public relations disaster on your hands.
Pam Spaulding:
On second thought, give me back my entire $15 contribution. You don't even get 50-cents for this hollow move, Mr. President. Or as I shall henceforth call you, "President Stop Short."
First of all, I'd like to request you return my $15 campaign contribution. I was obviously drunk when I made the donation because I sincerely believed in my out-of-body experience that you were going to be the president of ALL the people, that you would truly be the agent of hope and change, and that we would be turning a long-awaited corner on LGBTQ issues. Or at the very least LGBT. Or, realistically, LG issues. In my sober heart, I knew better.
I suppose you think by signing that memorandum today which extends job benefits to same-sex partners of federal employees, that all of us will feel placated and will perhaps shut the fuck up for awhile. Sorry, no can do.
President Obama will sign a presidential memorandum on Wednesday to extend benefits to same-sex partners of federal employees, administration officials said Tuesday evening, but he will stop short of pledging full health insurance coverage.
As a goodwill gesture, based on the value of this benefit as a percentage of my contribution, I will let you keep 50-cents. If and when you decide to aggressively pursue genuine equality for us, while using your brilliant charisma to swing Congress to our causes where necessary, I'll gradually return portions of my donation based on my perceived value.
Extend full health insurance coverage to same-sex partners: $1.50
Repeal DADT: $3.00
Repeal DOMA: $3.00
End the war in Iraq: $4.00
Close Gitmo: $3.00
There's so much more, but that would be a nice start. More than 10% of your first term in office is already behind you. If this were a movie which I'd paid to see, I'd already be yawning at this point and checking my watch.
As a presidential candidate, Mr. Obama vowed to “fight hard” for the rights of gay couples. As a senator, he sponsored legislation that would have provided health benefits to same-sex partners of federal employees.
But President Obama and his advisers have been reluctant to wade deeply into divisive issues like overturning a ban on openly gay military members or extending benefits to partners of government employees, fearful that such moves could overtake the administration’s broader agenda.
Here's the disconnect: civil rights and equality for all should be an integral part of that "broader agenda," Mr. President. That is, or so I've been led to believe, the backbone of what the United States of America is as a nation.
I don't expect my voice alone to hold much sway. But look around you, Mr. President; when the New York Times begins to criticize you in an editorial, you might want to consider recalibrating.
The Obama administration, which came to office promising to protect gay rights but so far has not done much, actually struck a blow for the other side last week. It submitted a disturbing brief in support of the Defense of Marriage Act, which is the law that protects the right of states to not recognize same-sex marriages and denies same-sex married couples federal benefits. The administration needs a new direction on gay rights.
[...]
The administration has had its hands full with the financial crisis, health care, Guantánamo Bay and other pressing matters. In times like these, issues like repealing the marriage act can seem like a distraction — or a political liability. But busy calendars and political expediency are no excuse for making one group of Americans wait any longer for equal rights.
And the New York Times is being too kind. When progressive liberal bloggers start chewing off chunks of your backside, you know you've got a public relations disaster on your hands.
Pam Spaulding:
UPDATE: It gets so much worse. This partner benefit plan is simply an administrative memo - it expires when Obama leaves office! LOLOLOL. FAIL-O-RAMA.
On second thought, give me back my entire $15 contribution. You don't even get 50-cents for this hollow move, Mr. President. Or as I shall henceforth call you, "President Stop Short."
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
I'm Gay. Can I Decide What Offends Me? Please?
Here we go again. Melissa at Shakesville has her stinger out for Sacha Baron-Cohen's upcoming "trainwreck" movie Brüno.It would rock my world if, on July 10, the day Brüno was scheduled to open, Sacha Baron-Cohen instead announced that the entire thing was a scam, designed to reveal the depth of the American media's hostility toward real, ordinary gay people, and every scheduled showing of Brüno would actually be a screening of The Celluloid Closet.
[...]
Instead, it will just be another straight dude being a hugely offensive wanker and calling it edgy, dismissing his critics as humorless losers.
The comment thread is already chock-full of hostility to his prior film, Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, which I enjoyed immensely despite instincts to the contrary before I actually watched it. I hadn't planned to even watch it until it was highly recommended to me by a friend -- a Jewish woman in New York.
Favorite quote from the comment thread at Shakesville thus far:
Nothing about the "Borat" movie was funny to me. Plus, I was triggered during several scenes.
No doubt! Those fucking triggers are everywhere these days.
You see, I wasn't much of a fan of Sacha Baron-Cohen's work prior to Borat. Those interviews of politicians while he was in character, unknown to those being interviewed, made me a tad uncomfortable. I guess I have empathy. Even if the person being interviewed was a politician whose views I absolutely despise. I suppose I prefer my comedians to be more up-front about their work, without the deceit. It's much more funny to me when it is bold, brazen, and open, and clearly a character, however flamboyant he or she might be.
And this is precisely (well, one reason) I enjoyed Borat so much more than I expected. (That, and the pot.)
I will withhold judgment until I see the film. Unfortunately, that may be awhile since I don't go to to the cinema. I'll catch the DVD, which means 2010 or 2011. It may be the unfunniest thing I've ever seen. It may well be complete and total homophobic rubbish. I'll decide. But the fireworks from Shakesville when the film is released will surely entertain me in the meantime.
I do hope the film is "edgy."
And as for Melissa's criticism of GQ? I don't buy or read the shit. This is marketing and advertising. This is how they do things, not just with this film; with any film. That's how it works. When you buy a magazine, you are buying advertising.
Random Bits of Humor - Completely Unrelated
I've had this sitting in my to-do file for so long I can't even remember where it came from. My brother sends me tons of stuff and it probably came from him, as did the rest of the items in this post.
He also sent me a picture of a scout troop in my hometown from 1962. Not sure what they were doing in this shot with the fire truck and holding on to the hose.
Naturally, the keen eye of konagod zeroed in on some other possible hose-grabbing action.
I hope that was enjoyable for both of them.
And FYI, just because everyone in this picture was Caucasian, that doesn't mean I lived in an all-white town. Quite the contrary; it was probably close to 50% black. That says a lot about the Boy Scouts of 1962 does it not? And today we have a black president. And some of those folks in the photograph are probably not too happy about that fact.
Moving on...
I don't know how you feel about jury duty. I hate getting called for it with a passion. The last time I was called for a jury selection process I tried pretty damn hard to make myself as unappealing as possible, and it worked. But I didn't go to this extreme...
I wonder if that worked? I don't have a dog but I'd rather count the hairs on my cat's balls than serve on a jury.
He also sent me a picture of a scout troop in my hometown from 1962. Not sure what they were doing in this shot with the fire truck and holding on to the hose.
Naturally, the keen eye of konagod zeroed in on some other possible hose-grabbing action.
I hope that was enjoyable for both of them.
And FYI, just because everyone in this picture was Caucasian, that doesn't mean I lived in an all-white town. Quite the contrary; it was probably close to 50% black. That says a lot about the Boy Scouts of 1962 does it not? And today we have a black president. And some of those folks in the photograph are probably not too happy about that fact.
Moving on...
I don't know how you feel about jury duty. I hate getting called for it with a passion. The last time I was called for a jury selection process I tried pretty damn hard to make myself as unappealing as possible, and it worked. But I didn't go to this extreme...
I wonder if that worked? I don't have a dog but I'd rather count the hairs on my cat's balls than serve on a jury.
Asshole - Part 2
Foiled Goil, over at Big Brass Blog, did a nice pile-on of my earlier Daily Dose of Asshole post. There is also a link to the WaPo story from Mike Goldman in that post's comment thread.Seriously, what the hell is wrong with Rep. Kirk?
In a speech at the Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington, Kirk said he told Chinese officials "the budget numbers that the U.S. Government has put forward should not be believed."
[...]
Democratic operatives aren't letting this one go. They're fixated on Kirk's declaration that the U.S. budget numbers "should not be believed." In other words, Democrats charge, Kirk is calling his own country a liar.
"After helping get us into this current economic crisis by supporting President Bush's failed economic policies, Congressman Mark Kirk went to China and told Chinese officials that the American government was not to be trusted," says Ryan Rudominer, spokesman for the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee. "Congressman Kirk's questioning of America while representing our government in China is incredibly irresponsible and endangers the American economy."
Is Kirk the most irresponsible person in Congress? And if not, is he striving for the title? His timing on this is not so great, as if there were ever a good time to rock that boat.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Muskrat Love
txrad and I were just having a discussion involving minks in western North Dakota, and I brought up the point that I just didn't get the whole mink stole phenomenon in the 70s, even though my mother bought one. I think she might have worn it 3 or 4 times.
Money well spent.
And then txrad talked about people shooting muskrats. "You get one shot before they dive," he said.
Naturally, I asked, "Who did that song, 'Muskrat Love'?"
"Captain & Tennille," he said.
Normally I'm the one who answers those questions correctly.
Money well spent.
And then txrad talked about people shooting muskrats. "You get one shot before they dive," he said.
Naturally, I asked, "Who did that song, 'Muskrat Love'?"
"Captain & Tennille," he said.
Normally I'm the one who answers those questions correctly.
Your Daily Dose of Asshole
Dear readers, I present you with Rep. Mark Kirk, an ILL Republican. Sorry, that's Ill as in Illinois. I just couldn't resist.
Just as we are making some substantive progress in examining our absurd laws concerning marijuana, and the failed War on Drugs in general, this asshole comes along to buck the trend.
And I mean he really bucks it.
From NORML:
Apparently, this asshole didn't read Nicholas Kristof's op-ed piece in the New York Times only two days ago:
Or maybe Rep. Kirk did read it and doesn't care. Maybe he just doesn't like Rep. Barney Frank and decided to have a childish "I'll show YOU" moment.
Whatever. Way to go in showing the country and the world what a stupendous, self-righteous and out-of-touch idiot you are, Rep. Kirk.
Just as we are making some substantive progress in examining our absurd laws concerning marijuana, and the failed War on Drugs in general, this asshole comes along to buck the trend.
And I mean he really bucks it.
From NORML:
Just days after Massachusetts Democrat Rep. Barney Frank, along with 13 cosponsors, reintroduced HR 2835, the Medical Marijuana Patient Protection Act of 2009 in Congress, Republican Rep. Mark Kirk (Illinois) has called for federal legislation to sentence certain first-time marijuana offenders to up to 25 years in prison.
Apparently, this asshole didn't read Nicholas Kristof's op-ed piece in the New York Times only two days ago:
Here in the United States, four decades of drug war have had three consequences:
First, we have vastly increased the proportion of our population in prisons. The United States now incarcerates people at a rate nearly five times the world average. In part, that’s because the number of people in prison for drug offenses rose roughly from 41,000 in 1980 to 500,000 today. Until the war on drugs, our incarceration rate was roughly the same as that of other countries.
Second, we have empowered criminals at home and terrorists abroad. One reason many prominent economists have favored easing drug laws is that interdiction raises prices, which increases profit margins for everyone, from the Latin drug cartels to the Taliban. Former presidents of Mexico, Brazil and Colombia this year jointly implored the United States to adopt a new approach to narcotics, based on the public health campaign against tobacco.
Third, we have squandered resources. Jeffrey Miron, a Harvard economist, found that federal, state and local governments spend $44.1 billion annually enforcing drug prohibitions. We spend seven times as much on drug interdiction, policing and imprisonment as on treatment. (Of people with drug problems in state prisons, only 14 percent get treatment.)
Or maybe Rep. Kirk did read it and doesn't care. Maybe he just doesn't like Rep. Barney Frank and decided to have a childish "I'll show YOU" moment.
Whatever. Way to go in showing the country and the world what a stupendous, self-righteous and out-of-touch idiot you are, Rep. Kirk.
Crossposted at B3
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Leave That Woman Alone!
I love Facebook, but I'm getting annoyed at the lack of ad filtering that occurs in that environment. I've made it quite clear I'm a leftist and yet I get pleas to join this and that right-wing organization. And then there's the overhead ads which seem to defy all logic.
I want to slap somebody for sure. And it ain't Susan Boyle. I've never even seen her sing. I tend to disavow all such things related to anything remotely related to judgment calls.. But this is ridiculous.
Click on my middle finger to slap the shit out of stupid people.
If anyone can tell me what the result was from clicking on that ad, I'd love to hear it. I just couldn't give them the goddamn fucking satisfaction.
I want to slap somebody for sure. And it ain't Susan Boyle. I've never even seen her sing. I tend to disavow all such things related to anything remotely related to judgment calls.. But this is ridiculous.
Click on my middle finger to slap the shit out of stupid people.
If anyone can tell me what the result was from clicking on that ad, I'd love to hear it. I just couldn't give them the goddamn fucking satisfaction.
A Chance Encounter
I have wondered what happens when two celebrities who have never met just happen to bump into each other in public. I suppose the recognition part would be fairly easy if it were say, Susan Sarandon and Mary-Louise Parker. It gets a bit more challenging when it's two bloggers who have never met and are shopping at the same supermarket on the same Sunday afternoon.
txrad was gathering up our groceries and I was stuffing the receipt in my wallet when a woman walked up and said, "I know you! konagod!"
Now I can't begin to tell you everything that was going through my mind in the two seconds between her saying "I know you" and "konagod." It was like 10-minutes worth of thoughts all crammed into that short two seconds.
"Is this someone from high school or my past? No, definitely not. Is this someone I used to work with years ago? Umm, maybe, but... I don't think so. Her eyes... I recognize her eyes and her face."
If she had given me about 3 more seconds I would have nailed it. I was so close to figuring out who she was but my brain was getting twisted up between her blog and her Facebook page.
As soon as she said, "it's BLUEBERRY," I was frustrated with myself for not being able to blurt it out first!
It's so ironic because I've always thought I'd bump into her eventually, probably at a music event. And I have literally had that thought recently, and even went so far as to wonder if I'd be able to find her in a crowd, knowing up front that we were both at the same event, with only her Facebook picture as my clue.
So, having this happen at the supermarket is even more bizarre. And guess what I had bought?
Blueberries. Not kidding. Absolute truth.
txrad was gathering up our groceries and I was stuffing the receipt in my wallet when a woman walked up and said, "I know you! konagod!"
Now I can't begin to tell you everything that was going through my mind in the two seconds between her saying "I know you" and "konagod." It was like 10-minutes worth of thoughts all crammed into that short two seconds.
"Is this someone from high school or my past? No, definitely not. Is this someone I used to work with years ago? Umm, maybe, but... I don't think so. Her eyes... I recognize her eyes and her face."
If she had given me about 3 more seconds I would have nailed it. I was so close to figuring out who she was but my brain was getting twisted up between her blog and her Facebook page.
As soon as she said, "it's BLUEBERRY," I was frustrated with myself for not being able to blurt it out first!
It's so ironic because I've always thought I'd bump into her eventually, probably at a music event. And I have literally had that thought recently, and even went so far as to wonder if I'd be able to find her in a crowd, knowing up front that we were both at the same event, with only her Facebook picture as my clue.
So, having this happen at the supermarket is even more bizarre. And guess what I had bought?
Blueberries. Not kidding. Absolute truth.
Fetch the Probe and Put Your Spurs On
We all like to complain about our fucking jobs from time to time. I may cut back on my complaints now that I realize the occupational hazards of my work are basically limited to headaches and carpel tunnel syndrome. At least I don't need to wear a condom to do my job. And it's only a figure of speech when I say my work is a pain in the ass.
I love sex and I used to joke back in the 80s that I wanted to do porn because...well, it was work I could enjoy. And I heard the pay was even decent. What's not to love?
HIV for starters.
Some fantasy.
There's absolutely nothing funny about this. It's sad and tragic that 22 cases of HIV infection have been detected in the porn industry since 2004. That we know of.
And yet, I was initially amused when I saw a related piece in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette today. It had something to do with the headline.
I'm not sure if the writer of this deserves a bonus for creativity or the boot for insensitivity:
Seeing the words porn, probe and spurs in the headline of a family newspaper is quite possibly a once-in-a-lifetime event.
The visuals in my mind came about instantly and instinctively. Sometimes my own warped mind makes me uncomfortable. It's my adolescent problem and I suppose I need to work on it.
In the meantime, damn those triggers! I'm now feeling kinky, and it's too damn hot in Texas for leather!
In the same paper today there was a story about a mayor in a small town who just resigned during a "probe." I didn't bother to read that piece for details.
I love sex and I used to joke back in the 80s that I wanted to do porn because...well, it was work I could enjoy. And I heard the pay was even decent. What's not to love?
HIV for starters.
"I don't think there's a problem right now," said actor, producer and director Jules Jordan. "It's like people who do stunts in Hollywood. There's a risk in anything you do."
Jordan said he does not use condoms in filming because "it takes away the whole fantasy."
Some fantasy.
There's absolutely nothing funny about this. It's sad and tragic that 22 cases of HIV infection have been detected in the porn industry since 2004. That we know of.
And yet, I was initially amused when I saw a related piece in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette today. It had something to do with the headline.
I'm not sure if the writer of this deserves a bonus for creativity or the boot for insensitivity:
Seeing the words porn, probe and spurs in the headline of a family newspaper is quite possibly a once-in-a-lifetime event.
The visuals in my mind came about instantly and instinctively. Sometimes my own warped mind makes me uncomfortable. It's my adolescent problem and I suppose I need to work on it.
In the meantime, damn those triggers! I'm now feeling kinky, and it's too damn hot in Texas for leather!
In the same paper today there was a story about a mayor in a small town who just resigned during a "probe." I didn't bother to read that piece for details.
In Hot Pursuit of Veggies and Fruit
For the past month I have been on a health kick. Or I should say mini-health kick. At least during daylight hours. The evenings are another story, like night & day.
For 18 years I have adhered to a vegetarian diet which sounds healthy enough, but I really don't eat much in the way of fresh foods... raw fresh foods. We prepare pizza once or twice a week, we have 2 or 3 vegetable casseroles in our lineup, and then our veggie burgers with txrad's homemade ketchup, homemade buns, and potatoes he slices for the oven fries. Almost everything we eat in the evening is fried or baked!
Lunch is worse. We often take the easy route on weekdays, when I'm working, and have a microwaved frozen veggie entree. There are clearly worse things we could eat, but there are certainly better things as well. The frozen entrees are pretty expensive considering the portion sizes and the ingredients. And they usually have excess sodium.
I started walking 2 or 3 miles a day on May 18th and the end of today will represent four weeks of walking. If I stick to my plan today I will have walked 70 miles in a month.
This walking regimen has resulted in an increased appetite. I've started boiling up some oatmeal for breakfast and topping it with a sliced banana. The first couple of times I think my body -- specifically my intestinal tract -- went into shock. Without going into detail, let's just say I think my body was asking, "what the hell IS this you're feeding me??"
Now that mind, body, and spirit are all getting along better (oatmeal, banana and gut are all slapping each other on the back going "Hey dude, nice to see ya!"), I'm ready to ratchet things up a notch. I keep hearing about the importance of five servings of fruits and vegetables each day and I'm ready to give that a whirl. Ketchup doesn't count as a veggie in my book. Ketchupgate taught me that. If only cheese counted as a fruit or a vegetable -- life would be grand!
Five servings of raw fruits and veggies is my agenda. Now that I have the banana thing under control, that leaves four to go, and this is not as easy as it seems. It's been so long since I have pondered eating anything raw, I'm having trouble naming five things!
Apples! There's an idea. Now three more! Umm...
Leafy greens! The salad I often crave could easily take care of the remaining three veggies. I just need to add a carrot and... what else?
Oh screw it. I'm too lazy too make a salad every day and I know it.
I have a better idea. All this slicing, dicing and chopping is going to take time. Let's just throw all that stuff in a juicer...carrot, apple, beet, celery, and DRINK it.
So, what's on your plate? Do you get your five servings of fruit and veggies each day?
For 18 years I have adhered to a vegetarian diet which sounds healthy enough, but I really don't eat much in the way of fresh foods... raw fresh foods. We prepare pizza once or twice a week, we have 2 or 3 vegetable casseroles in our lineup, and then our veggie burgers with txrad's homemade ketchup, homemade buns, and potatoes he slices for the oven fries. Almost everything we eat in the evening is fried or baked!
Lunch is worse. We often take the easy route on weekdays, when I'm working, and have a microwaved frozen veggie entree. There are clearly worse things we could eat, but there are certainly better things as well. The frozen entrees are pretty expensive considering the portion sizes and the ingredients. And they usually have excess sodium.
I started walking 2 or 3 miles a day on May 18th and the end of today will represent four weeks of walking. If I stick to my plan today I will have walked 70 miles in a month.
This walking regimen has resulted in an increased appetite. I've started boiling up some oatmeal for breakfast and topping it with a sliced banana. The first couple of times I think my body -- specifically my intestinal tract -- went into shock. Without going into detail, let's just say I think my body was asking, "what the hell IS this you're feeding me??"
Now that mind, body, and spirit are all getting along better (oatmeal, banana and gut are all slapping each other on the back going "Hey dude, nice to see ya!"), I'm ready to ratchet things up a notch. I keep hearing about the importance of five servings of fruits and vegetables each day and I'm ready to give that a whirl. Ketchup doesn't count as a veggie in my book. Ketchupgate taught me that. If only cheese counted as a fruit or a vegetable -- life would be grand!
Five servings of raw fruits and veggies is my agenda. Now that I have the banana thing under control, that leaves four to go, and this is not as easy as it seems. It's been so long since I have pondered eating anything raw, I'm having trouble naming five things!
Apples! There's an idea. Now three more! Umm...
Leafy greens! The salad I often crave could easily take care of the remaining three veggies. I just need to add a carrot and... what else?
Oh screw it. I'm too lazy too make a salad every day and I know it.
I have a better idea. All this slicing, dicing and chopping is going to take time. Let's just throw all that stuff in a juicer...carrot, apple, beet, celery, and DRINK it.
So, what's on your plate? Do you get your five servings of fruit and veggies each day?
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Wristwatches Must Go!
I haven't worn a watch since the 1980s. And even then, it was a freebie from Andy Warhol. I subscribed to Interview magazine because I liked all the boy photos, and I got a free wristwatch from Andy on my birthday.
For years I bragged about my birthday gift from Andy.
Eventually, the cheap plastic strap broke (I doubt it was made in China back then), and I quit wearing it, and I haven't worn a watch since.
Now I'm kinda perplexed as to why people are so obsessed about time. We have iPhones. Don't they tell us the time? Hell, my RAZR does. And my computer, and my atomic clock in the kitchen.
I don't really need to know the time THAT often. Just an occasional glance to get a general idea will suffice.
I don't use an alarm clock. No need. I have cats. THEY know the time. And they will tell YOU when it's time to get up.
So, all that being said, I get really pissed when I watch porn and the guys are wearing watches. Take that shit OFF, please! You took EVERYTHING else off! Why not remove the watch? Do you need to be somewhere fast?
Bottom line: remove the watch when you are jerking someone else off for pleasure, and for profit. Especially if you are on camera. For it is most unbecoming, not to mention, distracting. It makes it seem as though you have something better to do at the appropriate time. And clearly you do not.
Let me quote from MY bible.
Give unto others as you would have them give unto you.
And the world would be a much happier place.
For years I bragged about my birthday gift from Andy.
Eventually, the cheap plastic strap broke (I doubt it was made in China back then), and I quit wearing it, and I haven't worn a watch since.
Now I'm kinda perplexed as to why people are so obsessed about time. We have iPhones. Don't they tell us the time? Hell, my RAZR does. And my computer, and my atomic clock in the kitchen.
I don't really need to know the time THAT often. Just an occasional glance to get a general idea will suffice.
I don't use an alarm clock. No need. I have cats. THEY know the time. And they will tell YOU when it's time to get up.
So, all that being said, I get really pissed when I watch porn and the guys are wearing watches. Take that shit OFF, please! You took EVERYTHING else off! Why not remove the watch? Do you need to be somewhere fast?
Bottom line: remove the watch when you are jerking someone else off for pleasure, and for profit. Especially if you are on camera. For it is most unbecoming, not to mention, distracting. It makes it seem as though you have something better to do at the appropriate time. And clearly you do not.
Let me quote from MY bible.
Give unto others as you would have them give unto you.
And the world would be a much happier place.
Friday, June 12, 2009
"Fucked Up" Means ALL Of Us
This blog was founded, and has been inconsistently force-fed, by the work of konagod. It is overwhelmingly His vision, voice, energy, work, and determination that has set the tone and maintained the blog we enjoy -- a place on the internet which commenters say, again and again, they treasure as a hilarious, piece-of-shit minuscule blog. Or occasional spammers who say, The way you present your articles is exquisite. Would you mind if we exchange links? Without konagod, konagod would not exist. Full stop.
He wants to make clear that He is speaking as one konagod voice about what it means to waste personal time in maintaining this "exquisite" blog when He should be mowing the yard or scrubbing the bathroom tiles instead of taking cat pictures and throwing up post after post after post. His dedication to speaking up for Himself and occasionally others is represented by countless hours of sleeping, drinking coffee, a little writing, playing records at night, ill communication, and jerk-off fantasies within and without the community. The guidelines and policies that He has worked to create represent His very purple hazily-defined expectations.
What's konagod all about, anyway?
konagod was started in May, 2006 as a place to post cat pictures on Fridays. It quickly evolved into a pseudo-political blog, a brief attempt at running with the big dogs by trying to be the first to cover breaking news before discovering it was never going to happen because his grammar sucks and people don't care, and then a daily tracking of famous people's birthdays complete with YouTube videos, occasionally some serious posts about LGBTQ issues, but ultimately just a whatever/whenever blog covering whatever issues happened to yank His dick, like kids getting arrested for serving pot-spiked muffins at school, or retards being sent to prison in Texas for 100 years. WHO CARES!?
While konagod considers konagod a progressive blog, or at least considers himself progressive in a lazy hippie kind of way, this is also a chafe space. Visitors need not check their privilege at the door (we have no bouncers and somebody without privilege might make off with it) so best you keep it close at hand and just be aware of it. No one is expected to be perfect; everyone is expected to be willing to self-examine and if you want to touch yourself in strange places while here, far be it from konagod to interfere. Focus on the fun. It's a blog. He can't see you.
Cat scratches, masturbation, ISDs (injuries suffered while drunk), bowel movements, enemas, and other explosive bodily discharges, along with left-wing politics, right-wing nutjobs, music and culture, are all woven into the abominable fabric of konagod.
In fact, konagod's key objectives are equality, pervasiveness, perverseness, unlicensed use of AP photos, momentum, derision, growth, pleasure, anarchy, being in the company of butch lesbians for protection, community, blatant plagiarism, laughter, and diarrhea of both ass and mouth.
konagod blogs about domestic politics, presidents behaving like assholes, presidents who are liars, black presidents who lie about being a fierce advocate of gays, gays who think they have been healed straight by Jesus, people who think they find Jesus or the Virgin Mary in a cheesy poof, ugly-ass ridiculous outfits worn by models, ugly-ass ridiculous outfits worn by ordinary people, obituaries (especially people who deserve one; Kim Jong Il's is still saved as a draft ready to post), ethics, atom smashers, music, oppression, repression, depression, recession, religion, philosophy (but only konagod's, not those assholes who got famous from it), marriage (or legal lack thereof), cats, marijuana, alcohol, weed, doobies, joints, reefer, blunts, bongs, pipes, gas prices, ignorant white people, tyrants, Alabama, injustice, civil liberties, racism, bullshit, cat shit, the Brown Menace(TM) which lurks beneath our southern border, dicks, penises, fruits, vegetables, fruits and vegetables shaped like penises, HIS penis (specifically just how long, thick, and lovely it is to behold), why on earth any woman would wear high heels, why temperatures near 0F make the snow squeak and the boogers freeze in your nose, black holes, simpletons, Mississippi, assholes, shopping, cooking, home improvements, shit made in China, jobs exported, butt plugs, butt harps, butt wipes, asshats, Oklahoma, hairy pussy, wet pussy, fat pussy, skinny pussy, lazy pussy, haikus, Kansas, vomit, stinkfoot, yellow snow, Curtis Blow, and anything else that He feels like discussing. And why not? It's His fucking blog. He's the only contributor and He can do what He fucking wants. Whoooot!
All are invited. Whether you have the stomach for it is up to you.
He is speaking for Himself, and his sixteen other personalities, as contributors and moderators, becausewe He believes that we I He must impose some rules around here to live up to OUR ideals.
We I HE perceives that, over and over again, the choices of some folks in comment threads (or the complete lack of comments in threads) to be ridiculously nice and level-headed have created an environment in which konagod, (let Him remind you again, in case you forgot) the founder and creator of chafe space at konagod, clearly feels unworthy, spaced out, unchafed, unmotivated, and way too horny. In recent weeks, this pattern flared up again, and konagod chose to take a break from the blog and start walking 2 or 3 miles a day, vacuuming the house, tending to his day job, playing too many Facebook games, and removing trapped beetles from the attic ventilation.
This is not, by any means, the first time this has played out, but a summation (with links to specific examples) of the most recent cycle of this pattern can be found here. And here.
We are now calling on every person who identifies as a member of this community to step up and take direct responsibility to help change this pattern -- to take an equal share of the responsibility to maintain a chafe space for everyone in this community.
We call on you to do this in the following ways:
1. Commenting is now mandatory. Ramble on and on, saying whatever comes to mind, making reference to your private body parts, your sinus drainage, your cat's tapeworms, wev.
2. Spice up your own comments in terms of adherence to konagod's demand for a chafe space, and behaving in accordance with what konagod is all about.
3. Don't expect konagod, or his 16 other personalities, to constantly educate and re-educate you on the guidelines of the blog -- respect the time and energy that konagod has put into creating these guidelines by taking the time and energy to educate yourself. And if that's asking too much, well... go give yourself a hot water enema and come back with a fresh perspective, ready to embrace that which is konagod.
4. Be All Fucked Up. Bring your vocal, visible support to konagod (and his 16 other personalities) when you see others failing to chafe, or when they have expressed that they are triggered or distressed by something not happening at the blog. The persistent absence of vocal, visible support from the broad community serves as tacit acceptance of behaviors that we believe are incompatible with our chafe space. Speaking up ONLY when it directly involves you is completely counter to the notion of being "All Fucked Up" -- a primary thrust of konagod Kulture (TM) -- and as kona says: "Man, this shit is like trippin' in a void".
5. Respond immediately (oh, by the way, you are expected to maintain a presence here at all times! New rule!) and defensively to kona's (or his sixteen other personalities) requests that you cease participating in behavior that violates chafe space -- and actually take a moment to stir some shit up.
6. Treat konagod, in all interactions, with the respect that he deserves as the founder, acknowledged leader, only leader, unprofessional writer, and executive mis-director and fornicator of this blog.
7. Open your ears to truly hear, and join your voice in support of konagod, then open your ass and let one rip. Collectively, we should do this as a community.
8. Become an active agent in creating and maintaining chafe space for every konagodian -- including, and especially, konagod, the Almighty Kocktastic King Kona, Lord of The Gigantoid Penis.
9. Know that konagod has a low-threshold for violence, ultra violence, and hate speech. However, trolls and spammers are deposited into the virtual meat grinder as quickly as possible.
10. Beware of using triggering words. konagod even considers the word trigger triggering. You have been forewarned. He will pull the trigger on your ass.
These are the expectations. konagod acknowledges that He, (and His sixteen personalities) have sometimes failed to meet these expectations, even within the confines of this lengthy blatherpost. They re-commit, and invite you to re-commit, to living up to these expectations.
kona, with His occasional work, strong spirits, and cannabis, created this blog, constructed this chafe space, and founded this community within it. Everyone is responsible for maintaining this tripe space and making it chafer for all. That doesn't mean just konagod (and His 16 personalities) are responsible.
This means you.
Yes, you.
Yes, me.
Yes, each and every one of us.
Yes, even every INCH of us. Even if your he-man inches don't measure up to kona's. Give it your best shot.
We are all responsible for our words in this space.
We are all responsible for contributing to the roasting of this space for everyone -- or else the community is boring and frankly, sucks.
It does not work for konagod, or anyone else, to write a post in such a way as to make sure it upholds the ideals of this blog, and then have readers disregard those ideals by failing to comment, or writing nice shit, or worse, not even showing up to trip the goddamn SiteMeter.
A "chafe space" means chafe for everyone and that includes konagod (and His sixteen other personalities). Why people don't grasp this concept is incomprehensible and completely unacceptable to us. Everyone must be stupid or something.
This blog will not survive if people are unwilling themselves to uphold the ideals that konagod demands of konagod.
That is probably not a threat, it is simply a tool to whip you into submission. We must, as a group, allow nothing to derail our quest for chafe space. Or at the very least, chafe-ishness.
Now, everyone hold virtual hands and chant after Him: "I will be chafed! I WILL be chafed!"
Good children! It's the weekend, so go forth and Be All Fucked Up!
please print for your records
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
chafe
/tʃeɪf/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [cheyf] Show IPA verb, chafed, chaf⋅ing, noun
–verb (used with object)
1. to wear or abrade by rubbing: He chafed his shoes on the rocks.
2. to make sore by rubbing: Her collar chafed her neck.
3. to irritate; annoy: The dripping of the faucet chafed her nerves.
4. to warm by rubbing: to chafe cold hands.
5. Obsolete. to heat; make warm.
–verb (used without object)
6. to become worn or sore from rubbing: His neck began to chafe from the starched collar.
7. to rub; press with friction: The horse chafed against his stall.
8. to be irritated or annoyed: He chafed at their constant interruptions.
–noun
9. irritation; annoyance.
10. heat, wear, or soreness caused by rubbing.
—Idiom
11. chafe at the bit, to become impatient at delay: The work was going very slowly, and he began to chafe at the bit.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He wants to make clear that He is speaking as one konagod voice about what it means to waste personal time in maintaining this "exquisite" blog when He should be mowing the yard or scrubbing the bathroom tiles instead of taking cat pictures and throwing up post after post after post. His dedication to speaking up for Himself and occasionally others is represented by countless hours of sleeping, drinking coffee, a little writing, playing records at night, ill communication, and jerk-off fantasies within and without the community. The guidelines and policies that He has worked to create represent His very purple hazily-defined expectations.
What's konagod all about, anyway?
konagod was started in May, 2006 as a place to post cat pictures on Fridays. It quickly evolved into a pseudo-political blog, a brief attempt at running with the big dogs by trying to be the first to cover breaking news before discovering it was never going to happen because his grammar sucks and people don't care, and then a daily tracking of famous people's birthdays complete with YouTube videos, occasionally some serious posts about LGBTQ issues, but ultimately just a whatever/whenever blog covering whatever issues happened to yank His dick, like kids getting arrested for serving pot-spiked muffins at school, or retards being sent to prison in Texas for 100 years. WHO CARES!?
While konagod considers konagod a progressive blog, or at least considers himself progressive in a lazy hippie kind of way, this is also a chafe space. Visitors need not check their privilege at the door (we have no bouncers and somebody without privilege might make off with it) so best you keep it close at hand and just be aware of it. No one is expected to be perfect; everyone is expected to be willing to self-examine and if you want to touch yourself in strange places while here, far be it from konagod to interfere. Focus on the fun. It's a blog. He can't see you.
Cat scratches, masturbation, ISDs (injuries suffered while drunk), bowel movements, enemas, and other explosive bodily discharges, along with left-wing politics, right-wing nutjobs, music and culture, are all woven into the abominable fabric of konagod.
In fact, konagod's key objectives are equality, pervasiveness, perverseness, unlicensed use of AP photos, momentum, derision, growth, pleasure, anarchy, being in the company of butch lesbians for protection, community, blatant plagiarism, laughter, and diarrhea of both ass and mouth.
konagod blogs about domestic politics, presidents behaving like assholes, presidents who are liars, black presidents who lie about being a fierce advocate of gays, gays who think they have been healed straight by Jesus, people who think they find Jesus or the Virgin Mary in a cheesy poof, ugly-ass ridiculous outfits worn by models, ugly-ass ridiculous outfits worn by ordinary people, obituaries (especially people who deserve one; Kim Jong Il's is still saved as a draft ready to post), ethics, atom smashers, music, oppression, repression, depression, recession, religion, philosophy (but only konagod's, not those assholes who got famous from it), marriage (or legal lack thereof), cats, marijuana, alcohol, weed, doobies, joints, reefer, blunts, bongs, pipes, gas prices, ignorant white people, tyrants, Alabama, injustice, civil liberties, racism, bullshit, cat shit, the Brown Menace(TM) which lurks beneath our southern border, dicks, penises, fruits, vegetables, fruits and vegetables shaped like penises, HIS penis (specifically just how long, thick, and lovely it is to behold), why on earth any woman would wear high heels, why temperatures near 0F make the snow squeak and the boogers freeze in your nose, black holes, simpletons, Mississippi, assholes, shopping, cooking, home improvements, shit made in China, jobs exported, butt plugs, butt harps, butt wipes, asshats, Oklahoma, hairy pussy, wet pussy, fat pussy, skinny pussy, lazy pussy, haikus, Kansas, vomit, stinkfoot, yellow snow, Curtis Blow, and anything else that He feels like discussing. And why not? It's His fucking blog. He's the only contributor and He can do what He fucking wants. Whoooot!
All are invited. Whether you have the stomach for it is up to you.
He is speaking for Himself, and his sixteen other personalities, as contributors and moderators, because
This is not, by any means, the first time this has played out, but a summation (with links to specific examples) of the most recent cycle of this pattern can be found here. And here.
We are now calling on every person who identifies as a member of this community to step up and take direct responsibility to help change this pattern -- to take an equal share of the responsibility to maintain a chafe space for everyone in this community.
We call on you to do this in the following ways:
1. Commenting is now mandatory. Ramble on and on, saying whatever comes to mind, making reference to your private body parts, your sinus drainage, your cat's tapeworms, wev.
2. Spice up your own comments in terms of adherence to konagod's demand for a chafe space, and behaving in accordance with what konagod is all about.
3. Don't expect konagod, or his 16 other personalities, to constantly educate and re-educate you on the guidelines of the blog -- respect the time and energy that konagod has put into creating these guidelines by taking the time and energy to educate yourself. And if that's asking too much, well... go give yourself a hot water enema and come back with a fresh perspective, ready to embrace that which is konagod.
4. Be All Fucked Up. Bring your vocal, visible support to konagod (and his 16 other personalities) when you see others failing to chafe, or when they have expressed that they are triggered or distressed by something not happening at the blog. The persistent absence of vocal, visible support from the broad community serves as tacit acceptance of behaviors that we believe are incompatible with our chafe space. Speaking up ONLY when it directly involves you is completely counter to the notion of being "All Fucked Up" -- a primary thrust of konagod Kulture (TM) -- and as kona says: "Man, this shit is like trippin' in a void".
5. Respond immediately (oh, by the way, you are expected to maintain a presence here at all times! New rule!) and defensively to kona's (or his sixteen other personalities) requests that you cease participating in behavior that violates chafe space -- and actually take a moment to stir some shit up.
6. Treat konagod, in all interactions, with the respect that he deserves as the founder, acknowledged leader, only leader, unprofessional writer, and executive mis-director and fornicator of this blog.
7. Open your ears to truly hear, and join your voice in support of konagod, then open your ass and let one rip. Collectively, we should do this as a community.
8. Become an active agent in creating and maintaining chafe space for every konagodian -- including, and especially, konagod, the Almighty Kocktastic King Kona, Lord of The Gigantoid Penis.
9. Know that konagod has a low-threshold for violence, ultra violence, and hate speech. However, trolls and spammers are deposited into the virtual meat grinder as quickly as possible.
10. Beware of using triggering words. konagod even considers the word trigger triggering. You have been forewarned. He will pull the trigger on your ass.
These are the expectations. konagod acknowledges that He, (and His sixteen personalities) have sometimes failed to meet these expectations, even within the confines of this lengthy blatherpost. They re-commit, and invite you to re-commit, to living up to these expectations.
kona, with His occasional work, strong spirits, and cannabis, created this blog, constructed this chafe space, and founded this community within it. Everyone is responsible for maintaining this tripe space and making it chafer for all. That doesn't mean just konagod (and His 16 personalities) are responsible.
This means you.
Yes, you.
Yes, me.
Yes, each and every one of us.
Yes, even every INCH of us. Even if your he-man inches don't measure up to kona's. Give it your best shot.
We are all responsible for our words in this space.
We are all responsible for contributing to the roasting of this space for everyone -- or else the community is boring and frankly, sucks.
It does not work for konagod, or anyone else, to write a post in such a way as to make sure it upholds the ideals of this blog, and then have readers disregard those ideals by failing to comment, or writing nice shit, or worse, not even showing up to trip the goddamn SiteMeter.
A "chafe space" means chafe for everyone and that includes konagod (and His sixteen other personalities). Why people don't grasp this concept is incomprehensible and completely unacceptable to us. Everyone must be stupid or something.
This blog will not survive if people are unwilling themselves to uphold the ideals that konagod demands of konagod.
That is probably not a threat, it is simply a tool to whip you into submission. We must, as a group, allow nothing to derail our quest for chafe space. Or at the very least, chafe-ishness.
Now, everyone hold virtual hands and chant after Him: "I will be chafed! I WILL be chafed!"
Good children! It's the weekend, so go forth and Be All Fucked Up!
please print for your records
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
chafe
/tʃeɪf/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [cheyf] Show IPA verb, chafed, chaf⋅ing, noun
–verb (used with object)
1. to wear or abrade by rubbing: He chafed his shoes on the rocks.
2. to make sore by rubbing: Her collar chafed her neck.
3. to irritate; annoy: The dripping of the faucet chafed her nerves.
4. to warm by rubbing: to chafe cold hands.
5. Obsolete. to heat; make warm.
–verb (used without object)
6. to become worn or sore from rubbing: His neck began to chafe from the starched collar.
7. to rub; press with friction: The horse chafed against his stall.
8. to be irritated or annoyed: He chafed at their constant interruptions.
–noun
9. irritation; annoyance.
10. heat, wear, or soreness caused by rubbing.
—Idiom
11. chafe at the bit, to become impatient at delay: The work was going very slowly, and he began to chafe at the bit.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Friday Pussy Blog: Feigning Sleep Edition
If there's pussy, it MUST be FRIDAY!!
One thing that truly amazes me about cats is how they can "sleep" and yet maintain full awareness of their surroundings. Obviously these two have the slit eye condition due to my presence with a camera.
Sissy will sleep on the floor under the keyboard in bedroom #2. But after lunch when I go to ease myself onto the bed quietly in bedroom #1, she is immediately aware and will come join me for some headbutting against my hand and some excessive licking.
And this brings to mind something I've wanted to address here. Message to kitteh: must no lick or bite man-nipple.
It tickles and it's kind of gross. Getting real close to bestiality, so stop trying to do it. Please. It disturbs me having to be on guard when I'm trying to relax. The biscuit-making maneouver on my crotch is bad enough!
Tater Tot prefers the bed to the floor, also in bedroom #2. He never gets on the bed with me in bedroom #1, but both of them will be pacing around my bed every morning, grooming, or just hanging out waiting for me to arise. Because they know it's time. 6:00 AM sharp.
Back to this psychic thing, or whatever this talent cats have for awareness might be. Sweet Pea, one of our two outside cats, is very nervous around strangers. He will wander off and hide when someone other than us happens to be in the back yard. What's funny is that when he's sleeping, even if his back is turned away from the gate, he won't move if I happen to be coming in the gate from the driveway, or if I walk out to the patio from the kitchen.
He must know from the sound of my steps that it's me and not some stranger. Or they are psychic on some level.
One thing that truly amazes me about cats is how they can "sleep" and yet maintain full awareness of their surroundings. Obviously these two have the slit eye condition due to my presence with a camera.
Sissy will sleep on the floor under the keyboard in bedroom #2. But after lunch when I go to ease myself onto the bed quietly in bedroom #1, she is immediately aware and will come join me for some headbutting against my hand and some excessive licking.
And this brings to mind something I've wanted to address here. Message to kitteh: must no lick or bite man-nipple.
It tickles and it's kind of gross. Getting real close to bestiality, so stop trying to do it. Please. It disturbs me having to be on guard when I'm trying to relax. The biscuit-making maneouver on my crotch is bad enough!
Tater Tot prefers the bed to the floor, also in bedroom #2. He never gets on the bed with me in bedroom #1, but both of them will be pacing around my bed every morning, grooming, or just hanging out waiting for me to arise. Because they know it's time. 6:00 AM sharp.
Back to this psychic thing, or whatever this talent cats have for awareness might be. Sweet Pea, one of our two outside cats, is very nervous around strangers. He will wander off and hide when someone other than us happens to be in the back yard. What's funny is that when he's sleeping, even if his back is turned away from the gate, he won't move if I happen to be coming in the gate from the driveway, or if I walk out to the patio from the kitchen.
He must know from the sound of my steps that it's me and not some stranger. Or they are psychic on some level.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Cher Gets a Double Whammy
Cher didn't take the news so well when Chastity told her mom she was a lesbian a few years ago. Now that "Chaz" Bono is transitioning from female to male, maybe mom will be a little more supportive than she was the first time around.
Seriously though, I'm more concerned with how the media is going to play around with this, and whether they will deal with this seriously, or turn it into a comedy strip.
I agree with Pam's opening statement:
One can only hope. But I doubt it. Rational perspective would be nice for a change, on a variety of fronts. And especially when it comes to the transgender issue which rarely gets any seriously informative and educational media coverage. Unfortunately, rational perspective gets in the way of sensationalism, viewership levels and ratings, and all that shit.
We'll soon find out.
Oh, and to what kind of people does the media pander when they feel the need to sensationalize an issue? I'll give you a couple from the Daily News blog comments:
Now's there some intellectual discourse of the highest caliber! And since when did "penis" become a dirty word needing to be replaced with *****? I hope these two people are not over the age of 14. Seriously.
Seriously though, I'm more concerned with how the media is going to play around with this, and whether they will deal with this seriously, or turn it into a comedy strip.
I agree with Pam's opening statement:
This has to be the highest profile transition in recent memory. Let's see what the MSM does with this story as it unfolds; one can only hope that journalists will be fair and accurate and bring some rational perspective to transgender issues.
One can only hope. But I doubt it. Rational perspective would be nice for a change, on a variety of fronts. And especially when it comes to the transgender issue which rarely gets any seriously informative and educational media coverage. Unfortunately, rational perspective gets in the way of sensationalism, viewership levels and ratings, and all that shit.
We'll soon find out.
Oh, and to what kind of people does the media pander when they feel the need to sensationalize an issue? I'll give you a couple from the Daily News blog comments:
Now's there some intellectual discourse of the highest caliber! And since when did "penis" become a dirty word needing to be replaced with *****? I hope these two people are not over the age of 14. Seriously.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)