*My sheep would too, totes.*
Sep 302009
Sep 302009
The other night I was hanging out writing, watching the porn, searching for insanity on the fringe (didn’t have to search too hard for that let me assure you), reading sex blogs…you know, just your typical weekend night, when I was surprised by the chime of my IM client.
It was a name I didn’t instantly recognize. I cast back trying to place TubeSteak9947 (that’s not his name but it’s embarrassingly close enough) while he sent multiple semi-flirty messages. Was he a blogger? Adult site owner? Sex toy manufacturer? Someone I’d dated?
Ah yes. How could I forget? I was feeling saucy so quickly I typed in a greeting:
Me: Hi there. How are you doing?
Him: I’m doing fine. My name’s Edward, by the way.
Me: I know. We went out.
*pause*
Me: Don’t you remember?
Him: No. What did we do?
Me: We drank coffee at Starbucks and then you showed me your penis in the parking lot.
Him: Hm, I don’t remember that at all. Are you sure it was me?
Me: You work as a [specific description of his entirely unique job, redacted], don’t you?
Him: Yes, that’s me.
*pause*
Him: So, are you seeing anyone now?
And I’m left wondering: Am I really that forgettable, or does he show his penis to every chick he meets in the Starbucks parking lot?
Sep 292009
CineKink NYC–”the kinky film festival”–is seeking films and videos, of any length and genre, that explore and celebrate the wide diversity of sexuality. Dedicated to the recognition and encouragement of sex-positive and kink-friendly depictions in film and television, we’re looking to blur some boundaries and will be considering offerings drawn from both Hollywood and beyond, with works ranging from documentary to drama, camp comedy to hot porn, mildly spicy to quite explicit–and everything in between.
Cutting across orientations, topics covered at CineKink have included–but are by no means limited to – BDSM, leather and fetish, swinging, non-monogamy and polyamory, roleplay and gender bending, sex work and sex geekery. Basically, as long as it involves consenting adults, just about anything celebrating sex as a right of self expression is fair game. (Far be it from us to define “kink”–if you think your work might make sense in this context, please send it along!)
Scheduled for its seventh annual appearance February 16-21, 2010, the specially-curated CineKink NYC will also feature a short film competition, audience choice awards, a special adult entertainment showcase, presentations, parties and a gala kick-off event, with a national screening tour to follow.
Discounted, early-bird entries have a post-marked deadline of October 23rd, while the standard deadline is November 15th and the final deadline is December 4th.
For more information and to download an entry form, visit http://www.cinekink.com/entries.
Sep 292009
The call came at 2:30 a.m., and because I’d fallen asleep well before midnight in preparation for the lover’s early-morning wake-up, I answered it perky and full of life.
But the voice I heard wasn’t the one I expected. “I’m sick,” said the ex. “I need you to take the kids.” One minute of questioning let me ascertain that he was incapable of driving and had been told by an on-call nurse to go to the emergency room immediately, so less than five minutes after we hung up I was dressed (I’d been sleeping naked) and driving through dense fog to his house.
I planned to drop him at the e.r. then return home with the kids, but as we grew closer to the hospital I considered the possibility that he might actually be sick and not just indulging hypochondria. “Do you want me to call someone to sit with you, honey?” He did not, he said. “Do you want me to get a sitter for the kids and come myself?” He paused long enough that I knew he did. As I picked up the phone again I felt extraordinarily blessed that I have at least one friend who can answer the phone at 3 a.m. with the same equanimity that I had a half-hour earlier.
Kids and friend safely tucked at home, I went back to the e.r. where the ex was wearing a hospital gown and answering questions as a nurse hooked up an IV. Over the next few hours they ran test after test, between which we talked about the kids and politics and how much life had changed over the past couple years.
“Do you have any plans for today?” he asked at some point near dawn as we waited for the results of the final test. I did, I told him, and when he apologized for ruining my weekend I answered completely honestly that it was okay.
“Here’s a question for you,” said my friend much later that day after we compared levels of sleepiness. “When the kids are out of the house, will you still go with him to the e.r.?”
And I asked her in return, if it does no harm and he wants me with him, is there any reason why I shouldn’t?
Sep 282009
Sep 282009
via imgs.sfgate.com
Sep 282009
If ever as a kid I dreamed of how life would be in the 21st Century, I could imagine inventions no more miraculous than improvements on items we already used. Did I want for a device capable of holding and playing an audiophile’s entire collection? Not at all, but I surely would have been grateful for a car that never broke down, used less gas, and could somehow deliver me where I wanted to go without incident.
When years later I began hearing about a new-fangled device which would vacuum the floor whilst one sat on her ass, I thought phooey. And who needs that? Also, how could such a narrow circle possibly pick up the magnitude of insane crap which my family drips, drops or grinds onto the floor daily?
But then I read on Twitter that my pal Amber was getting rid of her Roomba which had sat unused for months. At first I ignored it, but when she repeated her plea for someone, anyone, to take the vacuum off her hands I sent her a message. “How much?” I asked, and receiving a response which could only be called extraordinarily generous, we worked out payment and shipping details. A few days later he arrived.
The first moment Roomba zipped across the floor I knew it was love. He picks up everything — absolutely everything. From the stickiest play-dough to the crumbliest goldfish he’s on it. Stuff stuck in corners or edged next to the wall? No problem. He gets every inch of everywhere without once complaining. At most he chimes melodiously when his dust cups must be emptied or when he’s thwarted behind a door.
I love him because the children love him. They love him so much that they willingly–quite willingly, in fact–pick up their toys before he’s set to jaunt about. Then once he’s working they scurry and dart before him, shriekingly leaping on the couch with him hard on their heels.
I love him even though he has developed an unnatural attraction the the kitchen throw-rug which each day I must gently discourage. “Control yourself!” I murmur as I disentangle his rotors from fringe. I love him even though he both terrifies and entrances the cats, which play their own version of chicken each time he sets out to work. One day I know it will end in kitty-tears; one day hubristic bravado will force one of the scamps to stay put until it’s too late and Roomba nabs a feline tail.
The noises will not be melodious then.
And so Amber I’d like to thank you. I’d like to thank you one-thousand times for adding to the cleanliness of my house, but more than that, for adding to the hilarity of my house. My little family is deeply in your debt, because what house couldn’t use more of those two crucial items?
—
Click here to see the exact model that’s brought us so much joy.
Sep 272009
The important thing isn’t the soundness or otherwise of the argument, but for it to make you think. Albert Camus
lets tumble our way through an existential crisis
Sep 272009
If there is a sin against life, it consists perhaps not so much in despairing of life as in hoping for another life and in eluding the implacable grandeur of this life. Albert Camus
lets tumble our way through an existential crisis
‘Tis time once again to leave a link-n-blurb about your best work of the week in the comments below.
I was up almost all of last night with a small family emergency (which has now worked itself out) and am currently exhausted. I’ll be snoozing all day Sunday — I hope — so as to be back to normal bright and early on Monday.
Enjoy your Sunday!
