There’s no question that the internet has changed how we interact with each other. However, I’d go as far as saying it’s changed what we consider normal in our relationships. I’d even stretch this to technology in general.
Sensationalist news items about the teen sexting craze and online predators tell me that this sexxxxy exchange thing is relatively new! It was probably so easy for past presidents to carry on affairs on the DL. For example, expensively set-designed historical drama Boardwalk Empire features a woman with an infant she claims was fathered by Warren G. Harding, right in the middle of the Republican Primary. [SPOILER ALERT] Harding goes on to become POTUS. You know how they kept this pretty severe scandal (see: John Edwards) under wraps? They just shut up about it. And in another historical masterpiece, Titanic, when Leo wanted to see Kate’s tits, he asks, “Can I draw you?” Erotic drawing was the sexting of the 1920s.
But erotic drawing takes time! Shutting up takes self control and a lack of platform for your message. But now in 2011, Facebook, Twitter, the 24/7 news cycle, text messaging, and smart phones provide instant photographic gratification and basically infinite platforms for literally anyone’s message.
This is how some liberal groupie became famous for carrying on an illicit Facebook chat with Anthony Weiner. I sort of wondered why did she do it in the first place? Yes, power is sexy, but Facebook chat is not. So, why did he do it? What struck me when I first read it, was that she was trying to make the fact that he was a politician sexy. And he just wanted to talk about his dick.
Him: i hear liberal girls are very, uh, accommodating of others Her: of course! it is all about taking care of the little guy! Him: little?! ouch. you'd be surprised how big'
Her: I'm about to bang my friend cause ur not here..will call him anthony Him: I hope he has a big c*** Her: huge…u are gonna have obe up him...get here Him: you will gag on me before you c** with me in you
It goes on, it’s gross. Look how into it he gets as soon as his penis is brought up! Then he can’t stop talking about it.
With this except of this crazypants lady, most ladies I know aren’t into this kind of sexytime penis talk! But sometimes dudes insist on having these text conversations, via SMS or IM or email or whatever. If the dude is lucky, his girlfriend is willing to indulge him. If he’s not, then he’s probably paying $8.99 per minute to have someone indulge him.
It appears there are two willing parties here, so you’d think it’d be a two-way street, a sort of “I tell you about mine, you tell me about yours” conversation.
Instead, the conversations are so dick-centric. The dude talks about how hard is cock is, and it’s always worded like that, “hard cock,” and what he wants to do with it. And then he asks his ladyfriend if she likes it and how she likes it. Basically he talks about his dick and she responds to his dick. There is minimal talk from the ladyfriend about big her tits are, and no questions about what he’s going to do to them.
And here’s the thing: he’s getting off on it! He’s getting off on talking about his peen. He’s getting off on talking about a peen. This is starting to get borderline gay.
Maybe the conversation leans this way because it’s pretty obvious that dudes like boobs. Women know that they’re being constantly objectified and it’s rarely a turn on. On the other hand, isn’t it also obvious that straight women like penis? That’s why they have sex in the first place.
But you know what? Dicks aren’t pretty. They serve a functional purpose, not an aesthetic one. This is why most women aren’t huge fans of dick picks. The visual variations from dick to dick are not particularly worth caring about. The only person getting off on the dick pic sharing is the narcissistic owner of the dick in question.
In the end though, I guess if both parties are willing (one party more than the other, but willing nonetheless), and sharing penis pictures and describing your “hard cock” makes dudes happy and secure with themselves, go for it. Just don’t expect an equal level of enthusiasm from your lady.
Empty threats I’ve made via gchat this week.
- … eat the Lannisters!
- I’m gonna watch a bunch of really fucked up stuff so it comes up on his [Netflix Instant] recommendations
- … so I can be a smug motherfucker and tell a publisher to download it so they can act like a grown up and unzip files on their own
- I want to spend a year doing the Crazypants Howard Hughes World Tour
- if I could have slaves, that’s what I’d make them do for me
- fuck society man, just rape it up!
- 12. Can I be drunk or heavily medicated while I operate the machinery?
- “omg we can go on killing rampages together, it’ll be so romantic!”
Empty threats other people have made via gchat:
- kill them, eat their hearts
- if I was there I’d tell the story about how I had to get stitches on the inside of my mouth maybe that would shut her up
- It’s time for New York to invade canada
- My sigil would be a pair of hairy flexing balls
- I wouldn’t take the risk of swimming with those things [whale sharks]
- I will kill them to protect the world
- I’m thinking of making a new OkCupid profile called “BeheadsU”
- and see if she’ll sign it “Mama horny, Michael”
It’s like this girl? And she has to go to, like, a mental institution… but then it’s some kind of sex club? It was a weird movie.
Moments are difficult things to capture. Artists in many mediums have taken different cracks at it. In the world of literature authors like William Faulkner and James Joyce have produced works that, while not the most easily read, are certainly among the most important. Their stories represent an attempt to capture all the subtleties of a moment in time through the written word. Faulkner and Joyce take all the grimy, ugly, and inconvenient details of life that less daring authors sanitize, and throw them right in your face. At times one might be tempted to put down one of their books, not because it’s too sophisticated to enjoy, but because it feels too real. With the turn of every page the reader begins to wonder, doubt, and eventually become convinced that maybe life has no real meaning. We’re born, we live, we reproduce, and we die. Life flows from one moment to the next with little to no regard for what befalls the wicked and the righteous.
That all seems very bleak, but as Explosions in the Sky stated through the title of their most well known album, “Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place,” there is beauty in the world. With their latest work “Take Care, Take Care, Take Care,” they make a strong argument for music as the best equipped medium to capture that beauty.
From the opening notes of the first track of the album, Last Known Surroundings, the band takes hold of the listener’s imagination. Sunsets, fields, deserts, mountains, streams, city streets, cars, skylines, living rooms, bottles, smiles, Explosions have given sonic life to all of these things and more in the musical arrangements present on Take Care, Take Care, Take Care.
Now don’t go getting the wrong idea about this album. This isn’t a cliched easy listening experience. This is rock music. Powerful drums and expansive guitar tones dominate the musical expanse of this record. On this album Explosions in the Sky have finally found the perfect middle ground between shoegaze and head bang. Whenever the band threatens to lull one to sleep with subtle guitar work, a thunderous eruption of percussion and rhythm is never too far behind. The dynamic works both ways. The uncharacteristically short Trembling Hands is possibly the most energetic and bombastic Explosions song to date, but it’s followed up by the subdued beauty of Be Comfortable, Creature.
Explosions in the Sky represent the head of the so called “post rock” movement. A wave of bands who have abandoned vocalists and strive to show the world that a five piece rock band can be every bit as epic, expressive, and important as the symphony orchestras of old. Much like the works of Faulkner, Joyce, and other stream of consciousness writers, the music by bands like Explosions in the Sky is anything but traditional. It takes hold of you and demands your full attention, but the reward for giving one’s ears over to the band are rich indeed.
Forbes has named Mexican telecom mogul Carlos Slim Helú (from here on out referred to affectionately as “Slim”) The Richest Man in the World. This is convenient for me, because I am going to Mexico next week, and am now hoping to befriend Slim.
Although Slim has been criticized for being a bajillionaire in a developing country where median income is around $15,000, look at this picture and tell me he doesn’t seem like a decent dude:
So what if he’s wearing a fishing vest and no shirt? Look how happy he’s making that deer!
Need more proof? Well here he is laughing with Bill Clinton:
Apparently their association has something to do with providing loans for small/medium-sized business in Haiti. So there, maybe he is a decent dude. And considering how easy it might be to become an evil dictator in Mexico with that kind of money (his income is 5-7% of Mexico’s GDP. Holy shit.), the fact that he hasn’t is a testament to him being an okay guy. And at least he’s not Muammar Gaddafi.
[For the record, the only reason he’s surpassed Bill Gates as the World’s Richest Man, is that Gates has basically donated half his enormous fortune to African orphans or some shit. Pfft, loser.]
Alright, so he’s a billionaire who kicks it with Bill Clinton – why would he want to hang out with me?
- The man digs baseball – and so do I! I may be jumping to conclusions here, but if the man is Mexican and enjoys America’s Pastime, then he must love the Dodgers. (UPDATE: Turns out he likes the Yankees, which happens to be my second-favorite MLB team. Close enough.)
- “His idea of winding down at home with the family used to be sitting his teenage sons down for an economics lesson.” Perfect! I majored in Economics in college.
- He basically saved the New York Times. I wrote for my college newspaper for 2 quarters. WOW – we have so much in common.
If it looks like I went way out of my way to do research on the guy, it’s only because I’m trying to figure out where he owns homes, so that I can try and stage an accidental run in, in which I explain that I love the
Dodgers Yankees in sloppy Spanish and ask him to teach me how to say things like “diminishing marginal cost” in Spanish, and otherwise charm the guy so that he buys me and my friends drinks for the rest of the night. ¡Olé!
Unfortunately, he is apparently no Russian Oligarch, and only owns a modest home somewhere in Mexico City – which is not anywhere near where I am going. Turns out Mexico’s a big country.
I will keep my eyes open nonetheless. And so begins BILLIONAIRE WATCH 2011.
Well, after about 5 days, these two are in love.
Naturally, she wants nothing to do with me.
It was love-at-first-sight for Bruce. I was initially hesitant to find him a girlfriend because he’d had a somewhat rocky past of companion animals. Turns out, he is one needy little rabbit.
He was so in love, in fact, that the only trouble I had bonding them is that, despite lacking the proper equipment, he kept humping her. Apparently she is just not that kind of girl.
Well, he’s stopped that, and in true girlfriend fashion, she is all into grooming him. She may have picked this up from me constantly telling the boyfriend, “You have shit on your face.”
Her name is Nico, if I dyed her pink, she’d look like Animal from the Muppets. As is, she looks like Gandalf the White. If she ever warms up to me, you best believe I’m putting bows in her hair.
When you’re single, there’s no pressure on Valentine’s Day. There’s no one to disappoint, no expectations of flowers and chocolates, no money to be spent on plush hearts, no delaying break ups for a day, no trying to act nonchalant about it, and so on.
No matter what your Facebook relationship status is, Valentine’s Day is a problem. You’re either constantly reminded that you’re single, or you’re basically setting yourself up to be by not sufficiently meeting your partner’s expectations. There are definitely those people who go out of their way to turn Valentine’s Day into a thing and try and “say something” about how they tackle these problems.
First, there are the Singles’ Awareness Day folks. They bother me not so much for the mountains of self pity they heap upon themselves, but for thinking they’ve come up with a really clever anagram.
However, no matter how much these people feel sorry for themselves, it’s nothing compared to the Just Went Through a Break-up crowd. To be fair, whereas it shouldn’t suck to be reminded that you’re not in a relationship, it does suck to be constantly reminded that you’re no longer in a relationship. Instead of telling a friend something constructive like, “Hey, I’m still bummed out and this Valentine’s Day shit isn’t helping, let’s go get tacos,” they spend all day reminding themselves about their lost love. “This was his favorite song!” “She drove a Toyota Corolla too!” “On Mondays we used to snuggle and tell each other how much we wuv each other.” “Last Valentine’s Day we went to the moon.” And so on.
Before they broke up, those people were responsible for Facebook Displays of Affection. Posting shit like “zomg I’m so in love with [name] forever and ever and ever❤❤ <3” is like writing his name all over your Trapper Keeper. They get infinitely worse if throughout the day, they keep updating about all the fabulous things their significant other has done for them, “He sprayed air freshener after he pooped so I wouldn’t have to smell it, awwwww,” “He told me he loved me 2349873209823 times already! Oh, make that 2349873209824!” “He’s boiling pasta for me! Best BF EVER!” It’s like the girl on Tool Academy who, in all sincerity, was so shocked and impressed when her boyfriend made her Caesar Salad.
So what are your alternatives, whether you’re single or in a relationship? How do you avoid being a huge douche-monkey about something that sort of sucks already?
Well, don’t be all “I hate Valentine’s Day, it’s just a Hallmark holiday,” because you sound just as bitter as the SAD kids, and are likely totally in the same boat yourself. If you are genuinely pissed because it’s a holiday that brings revenue primarily to greeting card companies and chocolate peddlers, you probably also think Christmas is too commercialized and that Arbor Day isn’t a perfectly reasonable excuse to get drunk. You’re also probably an asshole.
If you’re single, Valentine’s Day is pretty much the best day of the year to go out and hook up with a stranger. Not because you need to get your mind off being single, but just because it’s the easiest day to get it on. Think about it, all the couples will be spending time together in awkward “romantic” settings, freeing up the bars for the singles-and-ready-to-mingle crowd.
If having sex with strangers isn’t your thing, the holiday is a great excuse to get your friends together to eat candy and watch guilty pleasure romantic comedies. Or porn, whatever your style is. I feel both genres are appropriate. I’m pretty sure softcore porn covers both rom-com and porn genres if you can’t decide.
Spending Valentine’s Day single is, in fact, more fun than if you’re dating someone. You don’t even have to worry about it until, like, the night before, you don’t have to buy anyone anything, and you don’t have to worry about any of the, uh, physiological issues associated with too much wine.
But what if you are in a relationship? It’s not hopeless! YOU’RE GONNA GET LAID! I’m going to assume you actually enjoy spending time with your partner, so just do it. As long as no party is totally insane, you shouldn’t be expected to do anything completely ostentatious. So act like you’re single – make dinner, watch a rom-com or porn or softcore porn – and then get it on.