They Just Keep Coming: Dave Matthews ♥s Xiu Xiu
I hate to bury TransRatFashion and fisting videos, but this made me choke on a scream of glee/horror.
In case Rolling Stone or anyone else wants to know what my song picks are, right now I’m listening to Soviet (Marbleyezed), Paul Westerberg (These Days), Amy Winehouse, Xiu Xiu (who knew Dave Matthews and I had so much in common?), and some other stuff that I’m not prepared to admit to. Like the Arcade Fire. So nevermind, I’ll admit to anything.
Also, Conor Oberst looks like a hobbit.
Sea Pig of Watery Terror
Last night I link-hopped my way to this adorable little…um…what?
It was on some blog along with a bunch of pictures of chicks spreading it, etc. (I know: What?), with no caption or other indication of what it is. At first I thought it was some kind of organ. Maybe a uterus with way too many fallopian tubes? Then, after staring at the tentacle things for way to long, I started thinking maybe it was some kind of sea creature. Maybe a type of sea cucumber.
I showed D, hoping he would recognize it. He didn’t. “A potato?” he ventured? I asked why a potato would be all pink and glisten-y. He didn’t know.
So we went to the website the image was hotlinked from. Luckily for us, it was in Danish. And Spanish. After much searching, we got our answer. It’s a Sea Pig! And it is, indeed, a type of sea cucumber, as you can read for yourself. Isn’t being right nice?
And isn’t it kind of cute?
This picture totally makes me want to rub its belly. Maybe it would purr or pant.
Porn for Women
From Chronicle Books, via Violet Blue’s blog.
The Cambridge Women’s Pornography Cooperative asked women, young, old, rich, and poor, “What really, really gets you hot?” Armed with their findings, they worked day and night to create Porn for Women.
Haw haw, GEDDIT? Women get off on seeing men do household chores!
Doesn’t this fundamentally fall in the same realm as advertisements that suggest women like, say, chocolate more than sex? Or that flowery-smelling shampoos and conditioners provoke an orgasmic response? Because, after all, women don’t really like actual sex all that much, and usually we just do it as a favor for our mens. I mean, I don’t know about you, girlfriend, but if mine wasn’t always pestering me, I’d just as soon settle down on the couch with a gallon of ice cream and some nice lotion to watch Oprah.
Oh, wait. I don’t have a tv. Or a couch, for that matter.
I get that the burden of housework, cooking, and child care still falls disproportionately on women, and that it’s easier to want sex when you’re not preoccupied with crappy drudge-work. But this kind of thing perpetuates the idea that women just aren’t that into sex, and for all the articles in women’s magazines on how to ‘do it’ better, people buy into this in a big way. Which creates a disincentive for women and their partners to have sex that is satisfying to the women involved.
Have I stopped making sense yet? Mostly it just feels tired and lazy. Novelty greeting card humor. Meh.
My, what a busy day!
Earlier today I took the Powerbook into the Genius Bar (Apple’s in-store tech support) for some repairs, and while the Genius assigned to me wrote up my order, he and another Genius got into a conversation about the Thai restaurant around the block. This led to my Genius asking, “What language do they speak in Thailand?” The other Genius replied with something along the lines of, “Huh… I dunno…blah blah blah… Maybe Taiwanese?” Then the Geniuses got to talking about how difficult it is to tell the Italian and Irish flags apart.
As I left the store and crossed the street, I thought I heard someone calling my name. I thought it very odd, considering I don’t have any friends, but I turned and looked anyway. And lo! There on the opposite corner were my godparents and their daughter. Whom my family knows from when we lived in Saudi Arabia, and who now live in Bangladesh. But this evening they were in San Francisco, on a 10 hour layover between Dhaka and somewhere else. And so was I. Quelle coïncidence! Once, in the Amsterdam airport, I ran into someone I met at a conference in Bangkok. Less than a week after I moved to Seattle, I bumped into a boy that used to work at a record store I frequented in Portland. OK, that’s less impressive. But it still amazes me.
After my godparents and I parted ways, I walked up Market toward my bus stop. A man yelled after me, “I got grapes, I got eight and a half inches of dick!” I didn’t catch the rest. But grapes? What does that mean?
Finally, I’m looking into buying a MacBook Pro (actually, I’m looking into getting my parents to buy me one for my birthday), and I was wondering how people feel about the glossy vs. matte screens. I’m also looking at backpacks to carry said MacBook Pro around in, and would really appreciate recommendations. D has a booq, and his laptop survived a motorcycle crash in it. So I’m leaning toward getting one of those (probably the Boa.XL or XM), though they’re pretty spendy. Any other suggestions?
simmering rage of R. Kelly
Last night the Mister and I got in a tense, hours-long argument about R. Kelly. I am not kidding. Do not ask how this happened. It had something to do with that video of Akon (whoever that is) dry-humping a teenage girl onstage.
In case you didn’t catch that, we had a big, long, severely unpleasant argument over R. Kelly! What? Please shoot me in the face, like, now!
