Back to normal?

Means taking a break from coding field notes (30% of which involves compulsively checking Facebook and reading blogs on roller derby erm…I mean, “doing research”) and slapping up some links!  I’ve been rather shocked at the comments I’ve received (offline, you cowards!) from friends and family asking when I’ll be bringing back the “weekly round-up” posts.  Sadly, I’m far too unreliable to do something weekly, but I will do whenever-I-want -to round-ups of stuff that’s caught my eye.

In the “what in the holy hell?!” department we have a couple of doozies, the first (thanks to Nick for passing along this gem) from the Neuticles website.  Admittedly I laughed myself stupid the first time I looked at the web-site and have alternatively scratched my head and peed a little for every subsequent visit.  Call me callous, but really?  Really?!  Does Fido care?  Do we have irrevocable evidence that this sort of procedure helps the psychological damage done to animals by routine neutering?  Is there any psychological damage in the first place?!  Ahh well, at least I have something really fun to look at when the world gets ole’ DW down.  Well, that and the American Cornhole Association site. (Juvenile? Oh yes. Also, pull that stick out of your ass.)

Me too!

The second goes to J&D for the fantastically ingenious bacon lip-balm.  Truly the worlds most amazing cosmetic.

In a world of conflict between differing schools of beauty (and what the hell does that even mean?!) the Adipositivity project shines.  This is taken directly from the sites front page:

The women you see in these images are educators, executives, mothers, musicians, professionals, performers, artists, activists, clerks, and writers. They are perhaps even the women you’ve clucked at on the subway, rolled your eyes at in the market, or joked about with your friends.

I for one think the site is beautifully done and while I don’t necessarily condone a push for all plus-sized models, it is nice to see all shapes and sizes being portrayed in a way that showcases the humanity of the model.  Plus, the photographer is a fan of okonomiyaki and any lover of okonomiyaki is a friend of mine.  In the same vein, Myra Medible of American Sexuality writes a fantastic article on big butts and the sneaky little cultural nuances therein.  I was particularly fond of this gem:

It may well be that America’s butt fling signals a growing acceptance of difference-a desire to broaden the repertoire of acceptable body types and beauty myths. If this celebration of fulsome booty helps women move beyond the self-hatred and anxiety attached to body fat or encourages ethnic pride in women whose bodies have historically been pathologized and denigrated-then power to the butt, indeed.

Indeed!  I wish I would have stumbled upon this article while taking my Commodities and Culture course last semester.  It would have been a riot to research a paper on the commodification of the ass (and by default, fat).  I’m serious.

But really, in the end I’m going to side with Brother Ali (a Muslim, albino rapper) when he said:

Dependin’ on the day, and dependin’ on what I ate,
I’m anywhere from 20 to 35 pounds overweight.
I got red eyes, and one of ‘em’s lazy,
and they both squint when the sun shines so I look crazy.
I’m albino man, I know I’m pink and pale…
I’m not the classic profile of what the ladies want.
You might think I’m depressed as can be,
But when I look in the mirror I see sexy-ass me.
And if that’s somethin’ that you can’t respect then that’s peace.
My life’s better without you actually.
To everyone out there, who’s a little different,
I say, “damn a magazine, these is God’s fingerprints.
You can call me ugly but can’t take nothin’ from me.
I am what I am, doctor, you ain’t gotta love me.”

I’ma be all right, you ain’t gotta be my friend tonight (you ain’t gotta love me).
An’ I’ma be okay, you would probably bore me anyway (you ain’t gotta love me).

Time for sex!  Oh you knew it was coming.  (Word of warning: I’m really not censoring myself in this post, so if snarky comments regarding things of a sexual nature from an adult long beyond the age of consent offend you, you should probably never read my blog again.)

Wendy Atterberry of The Frisky (best. blog. ever) writes a delightfully cheeky response to a Men’s Health article “Make Her Fantasies Come True”. The handful she shoots down are absolutely hilarious (and spot-on) and I decided to follow (read: copy) her lead by creating my own responses:

3. Mow the lawn in jeans and no shirt so I can play desperate housewife from the window.
Then come inside smelling of fresh-cut grass, sweat, and pheromones, and make love to me on the dining-room table.

90% of the men I’m interested in would probably horrify the neighbours by prancing around the front yard with hot-pants and no shirt.  Guys, you can look just a sexy with that sweat-stained t-shirt still on.  Besides, what’s not hot about stripping you out of your clothes?  And what’s not hot about having a woman at you like a rabid drop bear, trying to get said sweaty clothes off of you?  That’s what I thought.

7. Read up on sex.
There are books on boinking that are worth the embarrassment of buying them. Like Ian Kerner’s She Comes First, for example. It’s a guide to giving oral sex so well that your partner will insist on cooking you blueberry pancakes the next morning. Yes, you’re an amazing lover already, but Kerner has a Ph.D. for a reason.

They have a Ph.D. program in oral sex?!  Sign me up for that!  And I can’t cook worth a crap so honey, make your own damn pancakes.

10. Ask to take black-and-white photos of me naked.
I want you to, but I’m not so cocky as to suggest that my body could be a work of art. That’s why I need you to do it for me. Bring it up after we’ve had sex. Tell me that the curve of my hips needs to be immortalized. Then, one rainy Saturday night, produce a bottle of wine and a camera.

It’s gonna take far more than one bottle to convince me to let you take photos of my no-no bits, no matter how many sweet compliments you whisper in my ear.

And so on and so fourth.  I pity the fool who takes these seriously.  Then again, I feel the same sort of head-shaking shame for the women’s magazines that offer the same kind of advice to the tune of “how to please your man in 50 different steps!” one of which will inevitably include circus-worthy contortion performances that only lead to awkward Q&A sessions with your doctor.  And chiropractor.  Moving along.

“Worried about your partner’s bedpost notches?  Get over it!” says John DeVore.  While I tend to agree with this on principle, it’s the aversion to the Itch N’ Scratch out there that does make me worry about a partners notches (that and why they have a knife so close to the bed.  Har har har.)  I did dig this though:

Personally, I love a “slut”, someone who knows what they want, who goes for it, who never apologizes, but who learns from experience. I also appreciate full-disclosure. And anyone who doesn’t live their life like they are making it up on the go is lying to themselves.

I can appreciate the art of self-gratification, so too can the masterminds behind Babeland and the oh-so-sleek SaSi – the Wii/iPod of pleasure-toys.  Not only does this puppy have a sexy little design, it is programmed to remember what you’ve done before, just like a real lover!  Hopefully.  If it wasn’t for the $100+ price tag, I’d be all over this like…well, you get the idea.

Also from The Frisky, Simcha brings us an absolutly fascinating piece on male lesbian sexual fantasy.  The reader comments about bisexuality and the semantics thereof are interesting to say the least.  Really – if you click no other link on this post, click that one.

On that note, one last link for you to chew on (it’s not bacon flavoured though, for shame).  I’m off to adventure.  Or sleep.  Mostly sleep.

Oh, yes and my new digs:

ZOMG! It’s the Special Sunday Roundup #10 – The Horrendously Long and Painfully Opinionated Edition

First I’d like to say:

O-motherfucking-BAMA!!! I laughed, I clapped, I drove my fellow students mad with my blathering.  I even got my BFF (LOLZ BRB WTF OMG ROTFLMAO TTYL!!!11!!1one!!111!) to vote.  All in all, a good day.  “If my happiness could have talked, it would have filled that genteel [department] with a defining roar.” -Nabakov (kinda.)

See? She voted! I MADE HER VOTE!!!

Well readers, its been 10 weeks, which means this little “roundup” project is one of my longest standing achievements.  What that says about my personality?  Erm…let’s not touch that one.

But the search terms keep getting better and better!

1. “Maximilian hell”
2. self proclaimed pseudo-intellectual (HA!)
3. preventing ramblings on presentations (HA!! x2)
4. herpes onsen (HA!!! 4D9 +2 charisma.  Everyone knows you get herpes from toilet seats.)
5. male beheading

What is up with the beheading hits though?  Really people, I enjoy pictures of dead things as much as the next homicidal, neurotic 24-year-old but really.  Really.  Like, ZOMG really. Stop it.  You’re freaking me out.

Moving along.

This week’s Dirty Little Pleasure is the absolutely fantastic “Margaret and Helen” Blog (link yoinked from the ever provocative feministing). I’ve always had a warm spot in my cold little heart for the older (and certainly wiser) folk of our society and the 82-year-old Helen is no exception.  Here’s a particularly snarky excerpt from a recent post:

I just don’t understand how your Howard can listen to that Rush Limbaugh each day.  I tuned into him yesterday and couldn’t believe it.  I mean, I know he is a Republican mouthpiece, I just didn’t realize we were dealing with Hoof and Mouth Disease.

After I cleaned up the tea that I’d snorted all over my keyboard and wiped away the tears of laughter running down my cheeks, I decided that I want to be just like Helen when I grow up; full of piss, vinegar and brains.  BRAAAIINNNSSS!!!

The brains over at bookslut are pumping out wonderful stuff as usual.  The video interview with Neil Gaiman is particularly fascinating.  I’ve been a big fan of the Sandman graphic novels for several years now and was decidedly skeptical of Gaiman’s cross-over into fiction though after reading American Gods on the plane to Australia, I was convinced otherwise.  We’ll see how Good Omens holds up.

Though her politics make my teeth hurt, Jen Lancaster is the second funniest author in The Official Dirt Warrior List of Authors that Everyone Should Read Because She Said So (number one?  Laurie Notaro) and here you can see why.

Now before I get crazy with the linkin’ I have to warn you that I’ve been holding onto these articles for a couple of weeks now (pre-election fever and whatnot) and have forgotten where I found half of them.  If you take any offence to this, feel free to insult me via the comments section.

Sci Am (just for you John) has a great article on eating and the brain.  Now that I’ve discovered the joy that is a “Tim Tam Slam” (thanks once again to Mark, my insufferably patient Australian friend and endless supplier of all things trivial and fantastic) – sucking hot tea through the chocolaty deliciousness that is a Tim Tam; the quintessential Australian biscuit (in Yank speak = cookie) – this article is especially intriguing. In the same vein, derby girls of the world rejoice!  Body size can be misleading.  Those thighs aren’t just for blasting through the pack you know…

A delicious morsel ready to be slammed.  Photo taken from tastywaffle.com

I have been pleasantly surprised at the prevalence of PEP (post-expose prophylaxis) campaigning in New South Wales, most notably through groups like ACON.  I had no idea PEP even existed until I started working for a hospital in the states and I think groups like ACON are providing a valuable service to the community in spreading the word.  What I find fascinating (and in the same moment, terrifying) is the outrage that many have for this sort of campaign, most often in the form of “why are we wasting money on people (most often read: gay men) who are not using protection?!” (and what of those who do use protection?  Condoms do break you know…) ect ad nauseum.  I hate these arguments.  Is the idea of having sex, protected or otherwise, so horrible that the people doing so deserve a potential lifetime of pain and slow lingering death for it?  And the whole “but the drugs are so expensive!” argument doesn’t hold up either, as the average cost of a lifetime of anti-HIV treatment can run you from a conservative $400,000 upwards of $700,000.  Then again, these are most often those who think homosexuality is a horrible sin and that sex is meant for procreation and not pleasure (still something I will never, ever, EVER understand).  A heaping bowl of wank if you ask me.

Speaking of wank, for all of my geek brethren out there, If the STI’s don’t scare you off (they sure do me!) check out sex tips for geeks (my two cents?  Screaming “AUSTRALOPITHECUS!!!” during orgasm is a sure-fire way to impress your partner).  Mind you, I find the whole “men are evolutionarily designed to want sex with a lot of women” argument (“not just one woman, a lot of women”) enormously suspect for reasons that I 1) am not qualified to explain without sounding like a half-wit and 2) there are far more intelligent folks in the field who do a much better job at explaining the concepts then I.  Want more on relationship shenanigans?  See also: the woes of heteronormative dating.

bones is teh sex

Cognitive Daily has a good article on Dan Ariely and rational vs. irrational decision making (John, John, are you listening?  John?  Listening?).  Ahh consumption, a delicious little sin.  Speaking of sin, Daniel Lende of Neuroanthropology (and now Sci Am?) fame writes a fascinating article about “studying sin”, anthropology and drugs. And while we’re on drugs, “roller derby is crack”.  Yes.  Yes it is.

If there’s one thing grad school has taught me, it’s that you cannot read too much Levi-Strauss.  Or ANY French theorist for that matter. (Yes, I’m being facetious – simmer down.)  You can, however, completely alienate yourself from the academic job market because of tattoos or piercings while still a graduate student.  Wait, wearing your lip-ring and 1/2″ ear plugs (I have both, by the way) to a job interview might send the “wrong message”?  NO WAY!  I’ve worked in a number of very professional positions (one was even in Japan where visible tattoos are far more troublesome than Australia or the US) and have had no problem with getting, keeping and otherwise performing at a job because of my personal adornment.  That being said, I don’t run around flashing my bits to everyone that happens by my desk.  Really though, I think people get their panties far too twisted when discussing body modifications – they’re not that bad.

And finally, for no real reason, Frida Kahlo still manages to rock my world on so many levels.  Viva la vida.

By God! It’s the Saturday Roundup #6

There was all sorts of goodness floating around the interwebs this week so hitch up your big-girl britches because we’re gonna dive right in.

This weeks “Dirty Little Pleasure Award” (“Total Nerd Award” goes to?  Me!) goes to D. Graglia at Feet in 2 Worlds for Get Me a Grande Latte and a Tutorial on Immigration.  I’ve been yapping up that tree for a while – thanks Graglia!

Reads for the week:

• Marya Hornbacher Wasted
• Henri Lefebvre The Production of Space (Don’t worry, I only understood 1.3% of the book)
• Don Kulick and Margaret Wilson (ed.) Taboo: Sex, Identity and Erotic Subjectivity in Anthropological Fieldwork.

And everything else that made me squee with delight:

“Fakin’ It Aint Feminist”- damn straight!

First and foremost, you deserve pleasure. You deserve orgasms. You deserve to be honest about the presence or absence of orgasms. And of course, every sexual encounter doesn’t have to lead to orgasm. Sometimes it’s not happenin’ for various reasons. You don’t have to explain yourself. You don’t have to perform some sort of ego saving climax.

Respect your elders you goddamn bastard whoremaster.

Weekly hilarity brought to you by nataliedee.com

Samhita Mukhopadhyay of The American Prospect discusses the phenomenon and the racial implications of the hugely popular site Stuff that White People Like.  (My favourites as a white chick? #50, #72, #81, #84, #95, #100, #107 and #109).

Ohh the irony!  Toothpastefordinner.com

The end of unbridled consumption? I’d argue that it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than a skinny wallet to stop the madness. Just check out Suri Cruise’s custom made “iconic buckle flats” by Roger Vivier.  Like, OMG!  They are like, SOOOOOOOO cute n’ junk! A quick Google search for shoes by this French shoe “icon” (I loathe high fashion and I have absolutely no idea who this guy is) reveals that his shoes range from $300 to $11,000 US dollars (the latter worn by Kate Blanchett even raised eyebrows in Hollywood).  My eyebrows have now travelled to the back of my cheap little skull.

On that note, The Times (look at me trying to sound worldly and educated) has a brilliant image of subprime foreclosure rates across the US.  The accompanying text can be found here.

It would be rather pretty if it didn’t inspire such pants-shitting horror.

Mind you, I was all prepared to give a harrowing diatribe about the impending implosion of the US financial markets on this blog (an hour long lecture on Wednesday about money warmed up my rant muscles) but then I found this on someecards.com and decided it was far more eloquent:

Karim at Savage Minds discusses the “Myth of Cultural Miscommunication”. There’s a pretty lively chunk of commentary following the post that is worth reading as well.

Vaughan at Mind Hacks goes metal.  Rawk!

A veritable smorgasbord of verbosity at A Gentleman’s C.

Super cool remote sensing technology spots a huge pyramid in Peru and gives me yet another reason to go back.

The Pope warns “modern culture is destroying faith”. This heathen wants to know what the problem is.

Greg Downey writes a beautiful post in Seed about the so-called “undiscovered Indians” of Brazil.

“Sarah Palin is an evil, nasty, harpy, shrew-bitch.”

A roller derby gem from postsecret.com:

And finally, Confessions reaches 800+ hits since going “public” in August.  One of the things that I love about WordPress is the stats tracker that is included with every blog.  Along with documenting things like page hits and views, it also tracks incoming referrals from sites like Google and Technorati.  Here are my 5 favourite search terms in no particular order:

1. Beheading
2. Gay sex in hell
3. Ways to stalk someone
4. Beauty of the human body
5. Huanchaco disco

So just remember that I’m watching you.  Oh yes. 

Oh snap! It’s the Saturday Roundup #5

Greetings citizens!  Last night I had great fun participating in a demo bout with my derby league and I’m still feeling rather cheeky this morning.  You’ve been warned.

I’ve received the official email; Thailand is on!  I’ll probably be heading out the last week in November and heading back Christmas week.  More details to come when I get them.

Barry Windsor-Smith "Untitled"

Today marks the end of Spring Break for me which means I’ve spent the better part of two weeks watching my meticulously planned study schedule degenerate into sultry afternoons filled with movie marathons featuring John Malkovich (as Being John Malkovich is hands down the best movie ever made), reading books that have nothing to do with my term papers and spending hours online looking at roller-derby related sites that have me frothing at the mouth (not unlike the gorgeous work of artist Barry Windsor-Smith whose art I also spent an inordinate amount of time perusing online).  Other break-related procrastinations included sleeping, perfecting my toffee pudding recipe, compulsively checking my email and squealing like a little girl when both my absentee ballot and my final research approval arrived in the mail.

It is a hard life, for sure, but I somehow manage.

I also had a couple of unexpected run-ins with some dodgy karmic forces this last week (not that I prescribe to any popular notion of karma, but lets humour the idea for a moment) that left me a little (only a little) less misanthropically minded and with a case of the warm-fuzzies.  In the spirit of that oh-so-special feeling, this roundup will focus on the more positive side of life.  Shall we then?

Oh ho!  “Why I’d rather sleep with a man over 50.” Knock it down to 35 and we’ll be cooking with gas.

To all the geek guys out there bemoaning a lack of geek women to date, there’s a robot girl with your name all over her (though this geek girl just died a little inside).

Airports to trial virtual strip searches.  “What’s so good about this” you ask?  Well, the scanner operator is sure to get a long-winded guffaw after I go through and laughter is good for you.  And so is prolonged exercise at moderate intensity.

Yet another reason to visit Japan again.

See, it’s not my fault!  I blame the stars!

And last but not least, Happynews.com is a bastion of frolicking unicorns and sweetness.  Glass half-full?  Only when it’s filled with gin!

Finally, I have some of the most amazing friends in the world who assuage my burning desire for consumption (of the capitalist variety, not the black lung variety) by sending me wholly inappropriate but decidedly fantastic gifts in the mail (I got it. I love it. Really, I love it.  It is now part of The Holy Trinity along with my roller skates and battered copy of The Idiot Girls’ Action-Adventure Club).

PS: If you can guess (via comments) the book that inspired this post to such grandiloquent and adjective laden heights, I’ll send you a fantastic post-card.