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June 30, 2005

What Is This, A Virus?

ia the Wiz. And a hundred others...


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My First Time



oy, does this seem like a good idea for a meme, but I'm outta that business, at least as an initiator, so take it on voluntarily if you wish. Thanks to Eric for indirectly giving me the idea.

I was 17, she was 16. Debbie. Foothill High School in Sacramento, California. My first real girlfriend. I was a bit of a late bloomer, traumatized in 7th grade when a girl decided to become my girlfriend just because she felt sorry for me. Forgot her name. I finally French-kissed in 8th grade after I eventually figured out that what that girl was trying to do by forcing her tongue between my lips. I was such a nerd!

Anyway, the parents were working and I had Debbie in my room. She said she'd done it before with her last boyfriend, a real JERK who jealously started a fight with me at school when Debbie and I got together.

It was traumatic. Not much to tell, really. We kissed, awkwardly. We took off our own clothes. She lay on the bed and I got on top. She just lay there on her back like a heavy sack or a warm side of beef or sand-filled blow-up doll. She didn't move, she didn't groan, she didn't say or do ANYTHING, leaving it to me to do everything and wonder if I was doing anything right.

After, when I couldn't help but ask, she said her jerk of a boyfriend had trained her not to move. I suggested that she might consider moving and showing some participation, but she never did, and we broke up soon after. The imprinting had taken hold, I guess.

I wouldn't have a real living girlfirend who loved the hell outa sex until after I got out of high school. After that, I was a fast learner.

So, tell us about your first time, and let me know by Trackback or in Comments that you've posted your story on your blog.

*** Nature abhors a virgin - a frozen asset. Clare Boothe Luce

UPDATE

Northwoods Woman tells us about her first time. (Better than mine!) She takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'.

Lollygaggin also tells her tail (heh, heh, also better than mine!) Backseat drivers allowed as long as they RESPECT the upholstery.

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Jacko Education News Flash

an Francisco (WitNit Newswire) -- Michael Jackson, famed popstar and unconvicted child molester, is founding a university, says his spokeman, Cy Kaphant. "Michael Jackson wants to give something back to all the children who supported him in his career," said Mr. Kaphant.

The university will be located in Salt Lake City, Utah. When asked what it will be called, Michael Jackson's spokeman replied, "Bring'em Young University."


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Worn of the Worlds

RUISE. SPIELBERG. THE FINEST FILMMAKER OF OUR TIMES TACKLES H.G. WELLS' CLASSIC WAR OF THE WORLDS.

So why did I sit there during the end credits feeling... well, BORED?

SPOILERS

Only spoilers if you saw the original movied because THIS DAMN MOVIE IS PRACTICALLY THE SAME!

Oh sure, we have super spectacular CGI, but SO WHAT? BATMAN BEGINS was a great movie because they did something unique and powerful, giving Bruce Wayne depth and character and playing it for real. That's not been done before.

Couldn't Spielberg bring some kind of new friggin' TWIST to the story? Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay, bacteria kills them. We already SAW THAT! It works the first time, when humankind is faced with a threat that WILL exterminate them. That's a good twist--ONCE!

But wouldn't it have been a good idea to maybe come up with some human ingenuity this time? If this movie is a hit, it's because too many people never saw the original.

I was expecting something decent because the Rotten Tomatoes website gave it 72%, and even the reviewers at Ain't It Cool News, especially Moriarty, thought it was great. Nice to know that they can be gawdawful WRONG! There's now no critic I can trust anymore.

So, these huge tripods are buried in the earth, apparently for thousands of years, waiting for these aliens to come along with their lightning elevators that impregnate the tripods to begin the takeover... so what's up with that? Why bury them and then wait for thousands of years with such advanced technology and NOT REALIZE THAT BACTERIAL ORGANISMS MIGHT JUST BE A FRIGGIN' ISSUE?

Oh, then there is Tom Cruise, who is playing an asshole (and not just with Matt Lauer... I admit he was kinda cute on Oprah... I give that relationship, oh, two years.) So in the movie his kids don't like him because he's a selfish bastard who doesn't even know how to sing a lulliby to his daughter, but then comes along his ex-wife (played by Miranda Otto, the babe from Lord of the Rings) who's all cute and smiley and gentle with this asshole, even cuddly smiling when he says she looks good pregnant with her second husband's baby, BUT SHE DIVORCED HIM FOR GAWDSAKE BECAUSE HE IS AN ASSHOLE AND DOESN'T KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A FATHER, SO WHAT GIVES WITH THE SWEET EX-WIFE BULLSHIT?

There's no real story arc. Cruise doesn't become a better father. He looks shell-shocked most of the time, because there's no real acting required. And then there's Tim Robbins playing a GUN NUT SURVIVALIST. Why is it that liberals think they're stretching their acting talents playing people they despise? Of course, the character has no purpose, goes nowhere, ends stupidly, offers nothing intelligent to the story.

Oh I get it. He was playing HIMSELF!

I like Spielberg movies. I really expected something smart, something ingenious. Instead, I was bored.

Go back and make INDIANA JONES IV, Steven. And then retire.

(yawn)

*** If Bush, as I believe, has reliable information on the fact that Saddam Hussein is making weapons of mass destruction, I cannot not support the policies of his government. Steven Spielberg (Yeah, I don't get it either. He got damaged somewhere along the line.)

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I'm Baaaaack! And WTF?!

'm back and ready to ride some of my favorite hobbyhorses...

But I can't BELIEVE that you went and let the friggin' SOUPREME COURT go off the deep end like that. Sheesh... More later.

And look at this place. I gotta admit, you gals left it lookin' a tad bit better than I did before I left. But Sadie, what's with the gawldarn sexual innuendo and blatant pornography? I mean... huh?... what?... oh yeah... GREAT JOB SADIE!

But dammit where's the punchline? What's the redhead gonna do with the Conspiracy NERD? You try to getchyer self thrown out of GuestBloggin' and then you go and LEAVE US WITH A FRIGGIN' CLIFFHANGER?

Sorry, Gal. Your access ain't gettin' deleted until you COUGH IT UP!

Pammy, Pammy, Pammy... Ya gotta get past this appearance of having low self-esteem... I read your blog and YOU GOT DA CHOPS, WOMAN! Everything you write would fit right in here. No more excuses, Babe.

Silk, SUPERB addition. I'll amend the Sex and Intoxication post with a link for the Googlers. And nice Dance.

Chrissy, you ain't no language butcher, gal... You are a master carver! As always, thanks for all that you do...And THANKS for those nice, very personal stories... You encourage me to share more...

And Kathy, luv that PeeJ! If you actually took the time to key in all that text, then an even bigger THANK YOU!

And thank you all... You too Moogs!

*** What would men be without women? Scarce, sir, mighty scarce. Mark Twain

*** Ah, women. They make the highs higher and the lows more frequent. Friedrich Nietzsche

*** Women are wiser than men because they know less and understand more. James Thurber

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June 29, 2005

Ok...maybe I'd better skip the illustration

ere it is, the day that Mark's supposed to return, and I've not posted one single thing. But quite frankly, the other Diva's did a great job of taking up my slack-ass-ness.

I'm afraid I've been remiss. I should be ashamed. I was going to say I should be punished and post a little illustration of a kid getting spanked. After 'googling' the words 'spanking', 'punishment' and even 'spanking cartoons', I decided that perhaps it would be better if I didn't. heh I didn't EVEN wanna google 'kid spanking' because...well...you can figure THAT out.

At any rate, I do apologize, Mark. Here are a few excuses that I considered...then rejected for...ah...obvious reasons:

1. The dog ate my computer. (I don't have a dog)
2. I was in a helicopter crash. (HA! Me? Get in a helicopter?)
3. I was busy climbing Mr. Everest. (See #3)
4. I traveled to Tibet and had a private meeting with the Dali Lama. (Wait..can you drive to Tibet?)
5. A meteor fell on my house. (It was just a SMALL meteor..that's why it didn't make the news)
6. Ziggy accidently ran over both my hands, breaking all my fingers. Don't ask. (Can someone help me pick my nose?)

Awww...the truth of the matter is, for the last week or so, I've felt pretty much like a used-up, rung-out Kleenex. My energy left with my muse firmly in tow. No energy + no muse = no postings. And, I wasn't about to blog without my muse. Which, as you might be able to tell, (or maybe not) has decided to return.

Now, where's that damned energy?

PS I DO wanna thank Mark for entrusting me with the keys to WitNit. Now, quick....I've gotta run and pull those undies off the shower bar and take down the chintz curtains. Oh...and, hide that vibrator.


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June 27, 2005

A Fictional Attempt To Resolve the UST*

ana Scully sighed and looked up at the clock. 1:30 AM. It was that time when Tuesday night has finally turned into Wednesday morning. Ever since the FBI budged had temporarily been slashed, Scully hated Tuesdays, sinced that was the day of the week when she not only chased aliens while she played the part of Mulder's partner, but she also spent the evening undercover as a phone-sex operator. Thankfully though, this was her last evening as "Kiki," the hot up-all-night girl. The case she was working on had finally been resolved, as she'd gotten a call on her cell phone from Skinner a few hours ago with this news.

"Of all undercover assignments to get stuck with," Scully sighed, "Only posing as a prostitute would hav ebeen worse." She grabbed her half-finished can of Pringles and Evian water, rumpled her red pigtails, and threw on her jacket to cover the tiny T-shirt and yoga pants. "At least I didn't have to dress up for this, like a high-class call girl does," but damn, she muttered, "After several hours of sex talk, even knowing that I am talking to some truly screwed up individuals fails to keep me from getting heated up." She thanked the FBI gods that she could at least sleep in a bit tomorrow, as she was fairly certain that Mulder had gone to his usual "movie" that night. Scully suspected that his cover was partially true at least, for she'd seen his eyebrows raise when they drove past that seedy theatre with the marquee that read 6 PM and 11 PM - A DECADE OF DIRTY DELINQUENTS.

As she grabbed her bag, Scully snickered to herself, knowing that Mulder would just faint if he knew what she'd been doing tonight. With his oh-so-obvious habit of calling 900 numbers, Scully had bitten her lips many times that day to keep from flaunting her Tuesday night adventures to him. Finally though, these evenings of helping literal strangers gain sexual relief in a most unnatural way were over. Now, the only time she woul dhave to be reminded about the existence of phone sex would be whenever she checked Mulder's answering machine.

Scully laughed aloud at the memory of the first time she had heard one of those messages from Chantal, calling from Desires-On-Hold to remind Mulder's alter ego Marty that, as a highly-valued customer, he could take advantage of their special weekend rates of forty cents per minute. Scully had not been able to stop herself from meeting Mulder's awkward gaze, through her initial shock that Mulder could possibly have sexual desires. He had covered his discomfort with a fib that only served to further incriminate him.

"Whatever video you found in that machine, it isn't mine." Even through his dead-pan stare, Mulder couldn't hide the sheepishness within his voice. Senseing that playing along would smooth the situation over if anything possibly could, she carelessly glossed over his words. "Good, because I put it back in the drawer with all those other videos that aren't yours."

Now, realizing once again that she was standing in a phone sex hotline room, Scully decided that going home and soaking in a bedtime bath sounded great. After standing a few more moments giggling girlishly and feeling a bit aroused herself, Scully snapped out of her daydream and stuck her copy of the latest FBI journal inside, along with a couple of Mulder's paperback "smut-trash books." These provided outstanding dialogue during crucial phone sex moments when her mind ran blank. She had swiped these from Mulder's apartment the last time they stopped for lunch, and Scully knew from his impressive pornographic library that he'd never notice he was missing two of his Black Lace paperbacks. "I wonder how many times he's read these," she smirked bemusedly, "OH...what if he read them while he..." Scully's voice trailed off and her green eyes widened curiously.

Just then, the phone rang mutely as a red light flashed on the switchboard. "Who the heck calls for phone sex at two in the morning?" Scully felt a mixture of irritation and incredulity bubbling at the back of her throat. "I really don't want to take that call," she thought through her fatigue. Somehow though, perhaps because she had been thinking dirty thoughts herself, she couldn't stop herself. "OH, why not," she smirked, "I can just pretend it's someone cute, Keanu Reeves perhaps..." thinking of one in particular that she had taken some personal training sessions from. Scully cleared her throat in preparation to slowly seduce this pervert over the phone with a cool, sultry voice. Five minutes, tops.

Scully sat herself down in the swiveled chair and glanced at the switchboard, which was still flashing. "Ten rings - this guy must be pretty desperate." She grabbed the receiver and picked it up, careful to turn on the whispery, slightly scratchy tone she's been using for hours. "Hello," Scully purred, "This is Kiki. Who is this?" A brief pause ensued, then a sardonically sexy voice spoke, "This is Marty."

Scully almost dropped the phone. The voice on her end may have been disguised, but she knew the voice on the other end of the wire all too well. That voice belonged to Agent Fox Mulder.


*UST is short for Unresolved Sexual Tension, of course. The characters of Mulder and Scully are the respective property of Chris Carter, and all resemblances are PURELY COINCIDENTAL. TO BE CONTINUED HERE...


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A game for suckers

ark left us ladies in the wake of a very steamy post and he offered us a chance to pick up the threads if we disagreed. To be honest I thought the post was great and I agreed with everything he said. He did make one omission though. In his warnings to girls he said; 'You may learn quickly that you can manipulate boys with sexual intoxication...You will sooner or later run into one who will be insecure enough to get violent when you tease.'

By god he's right, but what he failed to mention was that those poor unsuspecting boys should perhaps be warned about this too. You see in their lives they will come across many girls, most of them decent enough, some of them crazy and some who know that they can manipulate men and who do so with glee.

You see I am a keen people watcher. My job inspired this talent because I need to be able to predict situations that might become violent. On the most part, fights that occur will be because of a member of the opposite sex so I keep an eye out for a certain kind of girl. She will be pretty, she will be giggly and she will be flirting with everything in a five mile radius while her boyfriend is next to her.

It is a sick and twisted game that insecure women play called 'how much does my boyfriend love me?' And the object of this game is to make her mate crazy, not with love or lust, but with jealousy. Does he love her enough to fight for her love and her honour? The answer is often yes.

The poor schmo gets played so easily and ends up in a punch-up with some unsuspecting guy and then gets arrested. Meanwhile girlfriend gets to lean back, take in the drama and feel loved...because after all, it is all about her.

So what happens when the answer is no? Sometimes poor schmo figures out how well his chickette has been playing him and she ends up with a black eye. The revenge monster inside of me screams that she deserved it. The truth is that no one deserved it. You see the downside is that once a man hits a woman he is forever branded a woman batterer. He has to face his violent streak and he has to be repulsed by his actions. She gets a black eye and then has sympathy and pity heaped upon her. A less desirable outcome for her, but still a win.

Despicable isn't it? You see the game is a form of abuse, and you boys can either be a willing participant or you can keep your dignity and tell the girl to stuff it and find a lady. Women may look innocent but they can't all be angels like me ;)


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June 26, 2005

What a Woman Wants


ell, Mark left a very interesting post for the daring, delightful, and disarming Divas (plus one) before he headed to Singapore. In it, he addressed his thoughts on what boys and girls need to know regarding the intoxicating effects of sex. It is well worth a read.

After my second read of it, I began to think about how what I have wanted as a woman has changed over the years.

When I was a teenager, I wanted a boy to like me and want to take care of me. I wanted a boy to hold my hand, adorn me with his letter jacket and class ring, and let all the world know he thought I was pretty terrific. I wanted to belong to someone.

Well, I kind of got that wish.

I was eighteen before I had that first boyfriend. He was twenty-five. He was tall, dark, and handsome, as well as strong and pretty much silent. He was a trainer for the college football team. He had green eyes and dark hair.

In addition to his looks, I'm not sure what attracted me to him, other than the fact he liked me. It certainly was NOT the lack of intelligent conversation.

Never having really dated before then, I did not know what to expect from the relationship. I just took things as they came.

When we went out, it was usually with a group of his guy friends. Rarely were we accompanied by any other girls. I was expected to sit quietly and talk only to boyfriend, when he talked to me.

Boyfriend was very protective and controlling of me to the point he was critical of my appearance and wardrobe and insisted on walking me to the ladies' room when we were out and stood outside to walk me back to our table. Over time it became apparent, he was the jealous type and did not want any other men talking to me. On the rare occasion a guy from class walked up to me, it was an immediate fight. I mean fisticuffs between the men, then an argument with me because I must have done something wrong.

I, indeed, belonged to him.

I had allowed myself to become chattel.

It did not take long before I realized this situation was definitely not for me.

After it finally ended, it took me two years before I could trust myself and my own judgment to even want to get involved with anyone else, even longer to trust someone else.

While a hard experience, I am grateful I had it early on. It taught me what I did NOT want in a relationship.

Gone are those desires to have someone take care of me because I have learned over the years there is very little I cannot do for myself. I do not require another adult to support me, tell me what to do, or live my life for me.

What I want is to have someone I love and respect to love and respect me. I desire an equal to walk beside me in this life. I want someone to help share my burdens and let me know that no matter what issues or problems arise, he will be there for me. He may not be able to "make everything all right," but there are many things which just cannot be "fixed."

I think it is a stronger committment to have someone willing to endure those rough patches with me, than assume a dominant role and try to shield me from life. But, that's me.

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June 24, 2005

More Peej For Your Reading Pleasure

rom Modern Manners: An Etiquette Book for Rude People. All I would ask with this particular excerpt is for you to keep in mind that this book was originally published in 1983.

What Do Women Want?

But what do women want? Perhaps we can shed some light on the question by examining feminist objections to traditional female societal roles. Feminists believe "unliberated" women are not in control of their own lives, that they are not given adequate opportunities to realize their own potential. They feel women are overburdened with domestic responsibilities, underpaid for professional work, and exploited in every way. Of course, the average man can make the same complaints. But the cases are not comparable. Those conditions make the average man want a drink. They make the average woman want a law degree, a convertible, children, a Rolex watch, a seat on the stock exchange, two Valium, a lovely home, the lead role in a movie biography of Lotte Lenya, a pretty bracelet, the Nobel Prize, and a husband.

Four Rules For Modern Men Trying To Give Women What They Want

1. Be a Husband to All Women

No matter how liberated she is, every woman still wants a husband. No one knows why, but it's true. Even Jane Fonda has a husband. Of a sort.

Being a husband to all women is, biologically, a dauntin proposition. Locker-room claims to the contrary, most of find it's all we can do service just one woman, let alone the whole sex. However, it is the privately held opinion of most women that their spouses are not much good for this anyway. There are other more characteristic and less physically taxing ways of acting the husband.

Even if you live alone, you should put your feet up on the furniture, smoke stinky cigars, and never take the garbage out. Identify with the role. Try to be a husband at all times. Refer to any woman within earshot as "the old lady," aske every woman you meet, "When's dinner?" and go right up to women you've never seen before in your life and tell them they've put on weight.

2. Provide Orgasms

Another of woman's grievances is that male sexual techniques do not result in satisfactory female climaxes. (Personally the author is sure this is true. He did once get a woman to yell, "Oh, God! Oh, God!," but it turned out his golden retriever had bitten her on the foot.)Men must therefore be certain to provide orgasms to any females with whom they are allowed intimate contact.

The author wishes he could be more specific, but he cannot. Although he is in favor of feminism, he is still only a man and, frankly, does not know anything about where female orgazms come from. However, women seem to get a lot of what they like at cute little shops with names like "Things 'n Stuff." Maybe, next time you're at the mall, you should check it out.

3. Be a He-Man

He-men used to do things like fly jet fighter planes and climb Mt. Everest. They did these things to impress timorous and admiring women. Once women stopped being timorous and admiring, it was the secret hope of all us he-men that we could stop flying jet fighter planes and climbing Mt. Everest and spend the rest of our lives in a cozy restaurant with nothing more dangerous than a bad oyster for miles and miles in any direction. Unfortunately we just look too cute in our flight suits and parkas for women to let us stop. This is why Margaret Thatcher had to invade the Falklands.

4. Be Helpful

Men have always been expected to be helpful to women. The same is true now but the mode of helpfulness has changed with changing sex roles. One example will suffice. In the past a man was expected to give his seat to a woman. Today it would be much more courteous for that man to give her his job.

The Future of the Male Sex

Having acquiesced to feminism, most men are adjusting to present realities. There have been no mass suicides among professional ice hockey teams or other all-male groups, and so very few of us have been rounded up and placed in camps other than the usual fishing ones. But what does the future hold? What part will men play in the society of tomorrow? Well, women have taken our jobs and homosexuals are wearing the parkas and flight suits, and that probably means we'll be sitting around the house in our underwear watching NFL football.

Yet there's still a place in the world for men. Women want to be a lot of things traditionally considered masculine: doctors, rock stars, body builders, presidents of the United States. But there are plenty of masculine things women have, so far, shown no desire to be: pipe smokers, first-rate spincasters, wise old drunks, quiet. And there is one thing women can never take away from men. We die sooner.


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The Truth Is Out There.

"I'll show you my theory if you show me yours."

- Agent Fox "Spooky" Mulder, The X-Files

Conspiracy theories and dry humour aside, the Unresolved Sexual Tension [UST] made the first seven seasons of The X-Files irresistible. Mulder and Scully were likely the two most attractive characters on nighttime television who never actually became a couple. Bruce and Sybil fell into bed with each other in Moonlighting. Ross and Rachel did it in a planetarium under the "stars," while Heather Locklear got busy with every male on Melrose Place in the office that apparently doubled as her second bedroom. Ross and Rachel took a break, but then they did it again. Daphne and Niles fornicated, but their producers were kind enough not to show us a gratuitous act between two very skinny people. [Whew.] Then Rachel found chemistry with Joey, only to disappoint us by ultimately choosing Ross, an incredible whiner with whom she had no chemistry or anything in common with. Mulder and Scully, however, apparently never got into each other's pants during the entire decade of the cult favorite series. OR did they?

What strikes me as slightly odd is that there now stands an exoskeleton of X-Files webrings, all listing URLs that have since gone to the cyberspace recycle bin or since been revamped as Angel or Buffy Fansites CSI derivative worship sites. Some of the X-Files sites were strictly dedicated to paranormalism or conspiracy theories. But I would say that at least half of the sites were strictly organized around the chronic UST Theme: "Will they fuck? Have they fucked? Why won't they fuck? If they did fuck, why did they stop fucking? Is Skinner really fucking them both?" Not only are there these burning questions, but there was an entire counterculture and set of terminology that X-Philes [fans of the show] used to discuss this issue. These weren't hybrid forums by any means - one had to make a choice. Join one side or the other. Like the freaking West Side Story, but much cooler. And just like Morcheeba sang "Rome wasn't built in a day," neither was the saga of a relationship between the paranomalist Fox Mulder and the skeptical Dana Scully. To these X-Philers, it was as if the truth to life and love lingered somewhere within.

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June 23, 2005

Language

ir Mark is not only a world traveler, he is an astute observer of human nature, as well as a lover and craftsman of words.

Unlike Mark, I come from a line of language butchers.

Because my mother is half-Chinese and half-Vietnamese, English is not her first language. Despite becoming a naturalized citizen in 1965, she still speaks English with a heavy accent and all manner of mental gymnastics is required to decipher her exact meanings; however, there are the rare occasions when she manages to convey the appropriate message in rather blunt fashion.

When I first began bringing the boyfriend home to meet the parents (he later became the husband), my mother was delighted with him because he enjoyed food, more particularly her cooking. Unfortunately, my mother has never been very good with names and has always managed to substitute the names of her children for those of the various pets lurking about the house and land.

Well, apparently boyfriend was not immune from this practice. During a meal one evening, as soon as she noted his plate was less than half full, she jumped up to offer him yet another helping. She looked at him and instead of saying his name, she asked: "Crap, want more?"

Scrap or Scrapper was the name of one of the dogs. The letter "s" at the beginning of a word is yet something else she cannot accurately pronounce.

On another occasion, I was in a bit of a grumpy mood which is often the case when my blood sugar drops (that's my story and I'm sticking to it!). My mother pulled the boyfriend to one side and whispered rather loudly in his ear: "When she is in a bad mood, just slip her a little Twinkie."

Shocked, he looked at her incredulously and asked: "What did you say?"

Nonchalantly, she walked over to the pantry, opened it up, grabbed a box of Twinkies, and deposited it in front of him before asserting: "Give her one of these. It will make her feel better."

He very obviously thought she was referring to something else.

Not long ago, the Baptist preacher's wife and daughter were at my parents' home having coffee with my mother. I just happened to be there that afternoon and was working on some kind of paper work and I did not really engage in conversation with them.

The bits and pieces I was able to hear of their chatter revealed the daughter had just broken off her engagement with a young man in the community. My mother was very surprised to hear the news and asked by way of confirmation: "What, no ding-a-ling?"

Shock rippled through both the preacher's wife and daughter. No one knew quite what to say.

It took even me a moment before I was able to translate what she meant to say: "What, no wedding bells?"


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The dance

he music was playing. Base tones thrumming in the air. She could feel it on her skin. Music always had that effect though. She listens with every part of her being. Sultry beat on the bare skin of her arms, seeping down into the blood. Sneaking up to the base of her neck, making the hair there rise.

He was leaning over the music centre in the corner. Turning up the base. There was a part of him that always longed to understand her. She could often feel him study her. Music was a state of bliss. Her movements, thoughts and feelings, all of them stepped in time to the songs at play in her mind.

She shut the door behind her as Mr Loverman drifted from the speakers and invited the boy to dance. Bodies pressed together, they began to sway. His hands straying down to her hips as the air in the room drew close and hot. She turned her back to him and pulled her hair aside, bare flesh of her neck and shoulders feeling the heat of his breath as she grazed her buttocks against his groin. Arm reaching up, fingers caressing his neck and then bringing his head down so lips met skin.

Moist lips on her warm flesh, his hands resting under her top while her hips still swayed. He kissed up her neck. Each movement of his lips accentuated the thrum of the base against her skin, in her blood. He whispered softly in her ear,

‘Turn around’

She turned, her eyes catching his, so green and deep. She could barely breathe. He leaned down, lips finally touching hers. Mr Wendal by Arrested Development suddenly blasted from the speakers. Spell broken by laughter.


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June 21, 2005

A Little P.J. O'Rourke For Your Reading Pleasure

'm a big fan of Peej. Fortunately, so is Mark. One of my favorite books is Modern Manners: An Etiquette Book For Rude People, and here's an excerpt for you, my devoted Cake Eater WitNit readers.

FAKE FRENCH IN NINE (NEUF) EASY LESSONS

One way to say nothing while impresssing people who aren't listening is to speak Fake French. Fake French lends you all the cachet of speaking French without the tedious memorization or stupid Berlitz records lying around the house. Besides, no one learns real French anymore because americans already have a language they can't understand and don't speak well---English.

Lesson Un: Articles

Use "le" or "la" in place of "the," "a," and "an" to make anything you say sound sophisticated.

Examples:
"Pass le coleslaw."
"Open la door."

Lesson Deux: Prepositions

All English prepositions can be replaced with the French prepositions "a" and "de" which mean "at," "of," "with," "on," and anything else you want them to mean because we're not really trying to speak French, so who cares?

Example:
"I'll have le cheeseburger a la french fries."

Throw in "chez," "sur," "dans," and "voila," too if you feel like it.

Example:
"I'll have sur le cheesburger chez dans a la french fries voila."

Lesson Trois: Pronouns

"I" is "je" when it's the subject of the sentence and "moi" when you're being silly. "You" is "Vous." "We" is "nous."

Example:
"Moi loves vous."---Fake french in its ultimate form.

Lesson Quatre: Nouns

Use as many as you can recall from high school French, whether you remember the correct translation or not.

Examples:
"Soir of the living dead."
"Drinks on the maison!"
"No use crying over spilt au lait."

Lesson Cinq: Modifiers

All French adjectives and adverbs mean "lots of," e.g. "tres" "plus" "beaucoup," et cetera. Use them everywhere.

Example:
"Ive tres de had too much plus to drink beaucoup."

Lesson Six (Say "Sees"): Verbs

There's only one French verb of any note, "faire," meaning "make," "do," "be," "become," "create," and so on and so forth. The construction "faire de ________" turns any English word into a French verb.

Examples:

"Je faire de whoopee."
"Vous faire de hell out of here."

Any English word can also be turned into a French verb by adding "-ez vous" to the end of it.

Examples:
"Je buyez vous le drink?"
"Mais non?"
"Screwez vous, too."

Lesson Sept: Negation

"No" is said in French by forming the construction "Ne {verb} pas."

Example:
"Ne run vous hand up moi jamb pas or je smackez vous plus dans le mouth beaucoup."
(Note: garbled word order to aid in "foreign sound.")

Lesson Huit: Advanced Fake French

To give the impression of a really thoroughgoing fluency, translate all your favorite English phrases into literal French with a pocket dictionary.

Examples:
"frapper la rue"
"droit sur"
"donnez moi une fracture"
"hors de vue"
"Qu'est-ce que votre signe?"
"Pas merde"

Lesson Neuf: Fake French in Action

Below is the translation of an answering maching message from Babs Muddleprep, a sophomore at Bennington, to her older sister, Puffy, in Santa Barbara. The first version is given in English. The second version is in Fake French. Notice how much more, well, je ne sais quoi the second version is:

Message from Babs to Puffy, translated into English:

"I had a long talk with mother last night. There's good news and bad news. She's not drinking as much lately, but she's still really cheesed about the mess we left in her apartment. Did I tell you about the dress at Bendel's? It's so cool. But I couldn't afford it it at all so I charged it to Mummy. Now she'll be pissed to the max. Have to hit the books tomorrow---French final is tomorrow and must do well because the professor is to die for. Also, I flunked the midterm. Love you bunches. See you in Sun Valley."

Message from Babs to Puffy in its original Fake French:

"Je faire le beaucoup chatez avec la Mather last soir. There est le news bien and le news mal. She's ne drinking pas as beaucoup lately mais still plus de fromaged about le mess we left dans le apartment hers. Did I tellez vous about le chemise je trouvez at le Bendel's? C'est tres froid. Mais je ne affordez pas it at all so je chargez a Mama. Now she'll be pissoired a la maximum. Have to frapper les libres now---examination terminal de la francais is demain and must faire bon because le professo est to mort sur. Aussi, je flunked le termmidi. Je t'aime beaucoup. See vous dan le Valle du Soleil."

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June 20, 2005

BabeWit Nominations

think that for my monthly Carnival of the BabeWits, I will need to modify the criteria as it expands.

Each month, I will have all new BabeWits, with a portion of the current BabeWits in the mix on a rotating basis.

So please clue me in on smart, edgy, sensuous, etc. female writers that you think deserve a look.

Nominate a BabeWit in the Comments. And please feel free to nominate yourself. I will add 5 each month with 5 current BabeWits.


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But Is It True?

our IQ Is 135
Your Logical Intelligence is Genius Your Verbal Intelligence is Genius Your Mathematical Intelligence is Genius

Your General Knowledge is Exceptional


A Quick and Dirty IQ Test

Via Pammy at Lollygaggin.


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What Color Is Your Heart?

our Heart is Red


What Color is Your Heart?
brought to you by Quizilla

Via Northwoods Woman.

*** We shall draw from the heart of suffering itself the means of inspiration and survival. Winston Churchill


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Dave Barry

MINUS 1 DAY to the Fabulous Demystifying Divas Plus One hostile gentle, caring takeover of WitNit.



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June 19, 2005

Batman Begins

MINUS 2 DAYS to the Fabulous Demystifying Divas Plus One hostile gentle, caring takeover of WitNit.



Batman Begins with Christian Bale, Liam Neeson, Morgan Friedman, Gary Oldman, and Katie Homes, is, finally, a Batman movie that does justice to the original concept.

It's dark, psychological, weighty, intense, and played for real. You believe the technology. This Batman is invisible, quick, deadly--the Dark Knight.

And more important, it's scary. This Batman comes out of the night like your worst stalking nightmare, instilling real terror into the villains. Christian Bale plays him perfectly. No comic-book villains or action here.

And it does a wonderful job of showing how far such terror must go without crossing the line.

It also shows us the genesis of the relationship between Batman and the future Commissioner Gorden (here, Sgt. Gorden). A very clever genesis of the Bat Signal. And it sets up a sequal that I think the audience would have stayed for had it kicked right in. The first movie I've seen in a while that got a geniune heartfelt applause at the end.

Twenty fingers and toes UP.

*** We like Batman - we understand him, we suffer with him. On the other hand, we want to be Superman. But they're conflicting philosophies. Let's bring them together in one movie and see how we, as an audience, wrestle with our inner demons. Wolfgang Petersen

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June 18, 2005

25-Word Challenge: Romance in the Air?

MINUS 3 DAYS to the Fabulous Demystifying Divas Plus One hostile gentle, caring takeover of WitNit.

Sissy hosts this week's 25 Word Challenge. Check it out!

They were quiet; lost in each other’s eyes as she waited in sweet anticipation for what he might say next. He was thinking to himself...

Here's the upcoming hosts:
June 25 - Sadie at Fistful of Fortnights
July 2 - Moogie at Moogie's World
July 9 - Christina Feisty Repartee
July 16 – David Spence of Fishtown Chatter
July 23 – Lippy Cat of Wired JAFA
July 30 - Me at WitNit

August 6 - Kate at KateSpot
August 13 - Tincanman at Tincanman


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June 17, 2005

Take Two, 1 and 2

eez, I've been so busy at work and so selfishly focused on my own blog that I am SO behind in my reading. Christy has set up a clever new story idea, having bloggers take a sketch of a story and writing their own 1000-word takes on it. I've only read one story so far in both sets, and it was kickass. You should too.

Go to Take Two for the first set, and then Take Two, Part 2 for the second set. Worth your time. Thanks, Christy.

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3. Full Power Imagination

. Creating Your Life 2. Creating Your Life: Kitchen Remodeling and 12-Year Cycles 3. Creating Your Life: Full Power Imagination This post is going to piss off some people. Too friggin' bad. There are some uncomfortable truths in life, and those truths don't go away just because they don't fit your "model" of how reality works.

Everything that follows is testable by you personally. You can't prove any of them to anyone else, but you can prove them to yourself. Of course, you can mentally dismiss it all and forego personal experimentation, which is likely to happen when demonstration of these truths deeply conflicts with your picture of reality.

But do please consider that if there's even a small possibility that what follows is real and you don't even try, then you'll be missing out on an unlimited treasure that you have daily access to.

I suggest that if you want to experiment with Full Power Imagination, that you give it a full year, with real daily effort. And when you get results, don't allow your mind to make excuses. That's it's job: To protect your precious reality, to warn you away from uncomfortable truths.

Okay, here's the proposition: The image you hold in your mind's eye, with the right attitude and attention, will eventually manifest in "reality."


If you have been following this series from the beginning, in Evil Dictionaries and Money I showed how people work to control your imagination through language.

In The God Game, I posited that the universe (or universes, or however you want to look at it) might very well include everything you can possibly imagine.

In How the Mind Works I demonstrated how your mind limits reality by partitioning it according to what you believe to be true.

In this series Creating Your Life, I take it all the way, even though I know I open the door to certain derision.

Okay, take the time to try one or more of the following experiments. Remember, you're execising a real faculty, a kind of muscle, popularly called the third eye (it's right between and slightly above your eyebrows). You may have to build it up, unless you're already a graphic artist, painter, or illustrator (people who will likely have the most immediate success with these exercises):

I think you'd admit that if you could do any or all of these exercieses and get results repeatedly, that the implications of the connection between what your mind pictures and what you perceive as reality would open a whole new way of thinking about yourself and the universe.

You'll notice I said not to tell anybody. The simple reason is, you're not the only one with an imagination. Others have it as well. And even if they don't believe there is a direct connection between their mind and reality, that belief in itself WILL affect reality. Skeptics can act like Black Holes, with minds that reach out and CANCEL or at least inhibit the imagination of others. They unknowingly interfere with what you are trying to do. And they will never take responsibility for the fact that they have inhibited your experimentation.

Also, talk to any novelist about why they don't discuss their creations before they manifest. Talking about it RESOLVES it. The talking IS the creation, so one of the best ways to NOT get the results you expect is to TALK about those results before they manifest.

You don't get what you want in life; you get what you picture.

Except for the occasional odd life-changing event, you will likely see that your life onviously tends to manifest what you expect it to. If you think you don't deserve much in life, you won't get it. If you think life is pain, then life is pain. If you believe you can achieve large things in life, you DO achieve large things in life. You may know someone who thinks that they are jinxed, that all kinds of bad things will happen to them, AND THEY DO.

The greatest secret about secrets of the universe is, they're not secret, and never have been.

Know Thyself. Socrates

The kingdom of heaven is within you. Jesus

Humans are gods clothed in rags. They are masters of the universe going around begging for a crust of bread. They are kings and queens prostrated before their own servants. They could be free. All they have to do is walk out of their self-constructed prisons, for none hold them there but themselves.

That last paragraph is paraphrased and not original with me, but you get the idea.

How are you feeling right now? Do you feel anxiety when you read this? Is your brow creased and your neck tight because you feel there's something threatening about what I'm saying?

There is. This is a truth that is simply hard to face. The implications are staggering. If you have a strong picture of an objective universe detached from your mental imaginings, you will definitely experience anxiety reading this post. Why? I discuss that in How the Mind Works.

The fact is, as I have said so often before, more people than you realize know this truth about Full Power Imagination. And they would much rather you not find out about the fact that YOU DON'T NEED THEM. They want to take that very real POWER of YOUR imagination and harness that power to build up THEIR ideas, THEIR constructs, THEIR imaginings.

Reality waits for you to mold it. The limit to that molding resides in the flexibility and truths held in your limiting mind. By holding an image in your mind long enough, with the right attitude and focus of attention, you create the mold that reality, by it's nature, must fill in. And you have the means to PROVE it to yourself. If you take the time and apply yourself diligently.

Imagination supersedes the mind. The mind is merely a tool, a machine to implement the pictures generated by the imagination. Your imagination is NOT a function of the mind. The imagination is independent of it.

The universe is far more interesting and available to you than you have so far realized. And even if you don't realize it, your imagination and mind are still working away, creating your reality, haphazardly or according to someone else's mold, or to old molds given to you as a child, or by religion, or by science, or by politicians, or by yourself.

Nothing is more important than your willingness to claim your right to be your own creator in this world.

Try it. You have nothing to lose but your own limitations.

Next: 4. Creating Your Life: Uncomfortable Truths

*** Imagination has brought mankind through the dark ages to its present state of civilization. Imagination led Columbus to discover America. Imagination led Franklin to discover electricity. L. Frank Baum

*** The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity... and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself. William Blake

*** We are the miracle of force and matter making itself over into imagination and will. Incredible. The Life Force experimenting with forms. You for one. Me for another. The Universe has shouted itself alive. We are one of the shouts. Ray Bradbury

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June 16, 2005

The Ideal American Airline

ia BillyBudd at America Dinosaur. A classic. Be sure to turn up the sound.
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Carnival of the BabeWits #2

MINUS 5 DAYS to the Fabulous Demystifying Divas Plus One hostile gentle, caring takeover of WitNit.

This is the 2nd official Carnival of the BabeWits! Here they are, some of the wittiest, biting, soothing, thoughtful, and seductive women writing blogs today. Take a gander. I guarantee that you will find most of them to your taste. At least, I find they are to my taste, and what could be wrong with that? If you have a recommendation, let me know. Also, images can be changed upon request. Can you find the three new additions?

Anna at Annalysis shows us how the Saudi movie channel gets around restrictions on, uh, getting your soda straw to work. "The commercial showed a fast food cup with a cover on it and a hand trying to insert a straw. The straw was pink and thin, and kept bending."

Kathy at Cake Eater Chronicles explains what can turn her into a scary person. "You know, I'm really not a scary person. I know sometimes I come off like one, because this place is where I put a lot of my angst. But you shouldn't take it seriously. I'm not that frightening of a person. Really, I'm not. Most people think I'm really nice. Except..."

Chabliz is a little colorful in her thoughts on a mom who locked her son in the basement to protect him from their pitbull. She failed. "Of course, the obvious solution to most normal people would be to bring the boy grocery shopping instead of locking him in the basement. Oh, and way to go, mom, blaming your dead son for something that could have TOTALLY been prevented by YOU."

Ruth at Chaos Theory loves to litter. "I've always liked throwing rubbish out of the car window when I'm driving. There's something very satisfying about it."

LeeAnn our Cheesemistress appears to be in need of friendly intervention. Perhaps if we all got together... " Your death will be suicide. What more can I say?"

Christina at Feisty Repartee tells us about moms and dogs and chocolate. (Ain't that dangerous to pooches?) "For a brief period in my early married life, the husband and I actually lived in the same town as my parents."


Sadie at Fistful of Fortnights wants to screw humanity. Hmm...might take some time. "As I've been catching up on blog reading today, it would seem that a fair amount of angst stretches over the blogosphere. Then again, this could be attributed to the questionable nature of my favourite reads."

Amelie at for a breath i tarry lets us into the secret reading side of a young'un. "5. I have a copy of The Riverside Shakespeare [complete works], as well as a number of multiple copies of some works in smaller versions."


Silk at Just Breathe demonstrates that she is a friend that would make the Seinfeld crowd look sympathetic. "I consider myself to be a really good friend to have. In fact in friend stakes, I'd say I'm just bloody super."


Kate at KateSpot will be delivering a humongous, startlingly expensive prize to her 10,000th commenter. "I am 100 comments away from hitting the big 10,000!"

Key at Key Issues offers a mild, gentle, forgiving assessment of the whole Michael J. saga. "Jackson is a selfish, narcissistic megalomaniac who believes that he sets the standard for what is right and wrong in his own life."


Lady Mac at Lady Mac's Musings tells us what she misses from her childhood. "1. I miss playing outside with the neighborhood kids. I guess I could nowdays but it would look kind of strange…"


Pammy at Lollygaggin tells us more than we want to know about gravity, and it's brother, comedy. "I've since progressed into the just plain 'Pendulous' phase, where I expect I'll remain until passing into the dreaded 'Droopy Dawg' phase..."


Michele at Meanderings reminds us that she is hosting the upcoming Carnival of the Recipes, so get yours in now. I may even send my famous hot garlic chicken on salad. "It might be Saturday until they get posted, but send in those yummy recipes and I'll try to do them justice!"

Moogie at Moogie's World seems strangely to be on hiatus after posting on a tornado watch. Moogie, tell us you're okay! " My one fatal mistake that morning was turning on the radio. My timing sucked because at this very moment, they were announcing a tornado watch."

Northwoods Woman admits to being a blog addict, a blog whore (yeah, babe, like you're the only one), and a woman who is in need of a little discipline. Can you help her out? "During my black hole years I did absolutely nothing but sit my ass in front of the computer. From the time I dragged my ass out of bed to the time I dragged it back, I sat here and either played games or fought with people in chat chatted."


Kelley at Suburban Blight has put on the bio-safe latex gloves for...well, go see. "Once a week or so, I roll up my sleeves, don a fresh pair of powdery bio-safe latex gloves, bring out the antiseptic and go diving into the world of..."


Phoenix at Villians Vanquished tells us how a woman can fall for cowboys. "Here's a little secret about me: cowboys are my weakness."



And finally our Witty Sex Kitten is pissed off that not only is Bar Review ruining her sex life, it's ruining her [horrors] blog! "Must. stab. knife. in. palm. to. keep. self. awake."

*** What would men be without women? Scarce, sir, mighty scarce. Mark Twain


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June 15, 2005

Penguin Dope Slap of the Week

MINUS 6 DAYS to the Fabulous Demystifying Divas Plus One hostile gentle, caring takeover of WitNit.

This week's Penguin Dope Slap goes to the so-called "liberal" college students who jeered California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger. If you asked anyone of them, they would tell you they supported the First Amendment and Free Speech. And then they turn around and do this. Take that, Asshats:

SANTA MONICA, Calif. -- Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger's return to his alma mater turned into an exercise in perseverance when virtually his every word was accompanied by catcalls, howls and piercing whistles from the crowd.

Schwarzenegger's face appeared to redden during his 15-minute commencement address Tuesday to 600 graduates at Santa Monica College, but he ignored the shouting as he recalled his days as a student and, later, his work as a bodybuilder and actor.

"Always go all out and overcome your fears," he told the graduates. "Work, work, work. Study, study, study."

Inside the stadium, the drone from hundreds of rowdy protesters threatened to drown out the governor's voice at times.

Stories You May Have Missed

*** Peter Marshall: A western saddle has a curved horn on the front to hold something for the cowboy. What is it?

Paul Lynde: A passenger."


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Michael Who?

[yawn]
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Girls Are Evil

omplete, rational mathematical proof that Girls are Evil. From our friendly Undercaffeinated.

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Soledad Prison and the Bikers

eah, it's true... I was in a couple of Rock Bands... 1979... 23 years old... I had a Fender Rhodes piano... 88 keys... Pity the poor keyboard players who have to be their own roadies.

The first band was so dysfunctional we didn't have a name and played only one party. But it only took one party to discover that no matter how dysfunctional your band is, you'll get groupies.

We were in the middle of a song when she came up to me, thin and dark hair, holding a beer, and whispered in my ear, "I want you." That's all it took. The next break, we walked down the street where we found a house under construction and we convorted in multiple ways. Later, I drove her home, but she wasn't finished, so we had to pull over on the side of the road and continue our cavortin' ways.

Some months later I saw her again, didn't recognize her, but it turned out she went horny-crazy when drinking alcohol and finally had to stop to get her young life in order. She thought she'd let me know.

The second band was much better. A cover band. We did mostly Tom Petty and Bob Seger type music. Good singer, guitarist, bassist in our band. Real pros. I was the amateur, way below their standards. They didn't find that out right away. Still our first gig together was a prison.

Here's how it happened: The president of the Modified Motorcycle Association of California told us that they had permission to present a bike show to the inmates in Soledad Prison, properly called the Salinas Valley State Prison. A hardcore prison.

For some reason we agreed. The plan was to drive our van down the night before the gig and stay at a small park nearby. Turns out all the bikers were their too: Hell's Angels, Misfits, Hellbent, and many others.

We had sleeping bags for the campsite. One Hell's Angel looked over our bass player and said, "You! Sleep on your stomach tonight!" He slept in the van instead.

The next day we were let into Soledad. The chopped bikes were lined up in a long row, about 100 bikes. An outdoor platform was our stage and we set up our equipment. We played for about an hour. Inmates milled around. Black, hispanic, white. In their own racial groups. We couldn't generate any excitement or energy.

One inmate came up to us and said, "Don't take it personally. These guys really appreciated that you came. It's just really hard in here."

Yeah. I spent 60 days in a county jail that was more like army barracks and that was hard enough for me.

I was fired from the band after that. I couldn't keep up with them and they noticed. I went on to play mostly on my own after that.

I still remember, though, how much we laughed at our bass player after that Hell's Angel walked away. Cool dudes, all around.

*** Wherever there are rock 'n' rollers, we'll play. That's what we've been doing for more than 30 years - rock 'n' roll. It's made me everything from an honorary mayor to honorary member of a motorcycle gang. Ronnie Hawkins


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