Cat Hair Knows Your Weaknesses

I am very allergic to cats. Like hives and tears and asthma allergic to hats and their ever-present, gravity-defying, follow-you-to-your-grave hair.

For those who share my allergy, there is a rule about a cats and allergies. The cats know. When a cat sensing that you are ignoring him/her, that cat wants to touch you, rub up on you, win you over, etc., and that cat will stop at nothing to get hair all over you. See, cats like playing hard to get. Thus, when a human plays hard to get (or in this case, a game of oh-god-is-that-a-cat? – I-really-hope-that-cat doesn’t-touch-my-coat), the cat is intrigued and maybe even offended.

The cat thinks, “How dare this lowly human not worship my glowing mane? I will use my cutest cuddles, my most vicious head rubs, and my most purring meow to get this stupid human to love me. And when he/she does, I’ll leave her/him in the lurch. Mwa! Ha! Ha!”

Meanwhile, Mrs. Allergy-Pants is thinking, “Why is that cat staring at me? What do you want from me, cat? Yes, I get that you’re adorable and swift, but please don’t rub yourself on my pants. Is that my coat!? Get off my coat… Why, cat? Why?”

Cats want to ignore you.

Cats don’t want to be ignored.

Cats are constantly playing hard to get. If you try and pull that, they do not like it. That’s the cat’s move, man. Get your own move.

The other possible answer, of course, is that cats can sense these allergies and enjoy torturing humans. Thus, when they sense that a person is allergic, they attack. It is highly possible that they are simply malicious and clairvoyant. They see a weakness, and so they act upon.

I have always felt that cats had the capacity for evil. You know they do.

 

 

Get Sick with Me

Being in a relationship while being sick means likely exposing one’s partner to that sickness.  It means that if you spend any time together, the non-sick party is signing up to get sick.  Love is a game of sacrifice.

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If your significant other is ill, you might be asking yourself how you will get out of touching them, kissing them, caring for them, etc.  Well, you can’t.

Basically, if you have the flu, your girlfriend will get the flu.  If you have strep throat, your boyfriend is probably going to get strep throat.  This is yet another reason that being in a relationship with an adult is a lot like having a child.  It’s pretty annoying… but I guess it’s sort of worth it.  I guess.

There is just so much risk involved.  Once you’ve been dating someone for a while, you’re sort of obligated to kiss them hello and goodbye.  Heck, you need to kiss them if they bring you water, or cook dinner, or tell you something nice, or if they had a bad day, or to apologize.  There are so many reasons you might want to or feel obligated to kiss them.  You kind of have to kiss your significant other even if they’re covered in boils and snot while coughing and feverishly wandering the halls of their home.  As their significant other, it’s your job.

What does this mean?  This means, you have to suck it up, kiss them on the face, and hope you’ve built up an immunity.

Will you risk kissing them?

Will they kiss you?

Will you regret splitting that malted milk at the drive-in theater?

Because you love your significant other and they love you, you will also have to care for them – at least a little – while they are sick.  Unless you are willing to lose your relationship, you just have to take the risk of getting ill by bringing them soup, hugging them, helping them get to and from the doctor’s office, and so on.  They would do it for you.  Do it for them.  They’ll really appreciate it.  If they don’t, they might be terrible.

Terrible Sex Advice from Magazines

Why are women’s magazines so bad at giving sex advice?  I would think that women who are comfortable with their sexuality, educated enough to work at a major magazine, and given these assignments would have some semblance of reasonable experience and the good sense to know what their partners enjoy to write decent and believable sex tips.  This is just not the case.  Sure, there are occasional gems in these sex advice columns; in an effort to be reasonable (unlike some people), I will give you a few examples of solidly decent advice.

REALLY BAD SEX ADVICE MAKES ME MAKE THIS FACE.

Some Decent Advice:

Be confident.  Wow, this is an actual tip that sex partners will appreciate.  Sexual and body confidence will go a long way in the bedroom (hopefully they aren’t alone on the “long” side).  I think most people will also enjoy their own bedroom experiences if they feel good about themselves, know what they want, and have the confidence to try things with their partner.  This one is good.

However, it’s not great.  If you are overconfident in bed, it can really, really backfire.  Haven’t we all heard stories about, or perhaps even experienced ourselves, people who think they’re amazing at sex, but are actually quite awful?  I recall a tale from a male friend about a lady who gave some boring-ass blowjobs that she thought were the best in the world.  Her blowjobs were even titled, “The Seven Levels of Heaven” (or some other stupid name she’d probably heard in a magazine).  This basically consisted of some limp licks followed by startlingly toothy deep-throats.  By his account, they were creepy, terrifying, and very NOT enjoyable.  Yet, this poor misled girl thought that she was SO good at them.   He later learned that she had, in fact, been instructed to do so by a fashion magazine.  Sadness ensues.

Be open.

That’s also pretty good advice.  Just discuss what you’re being open about with your partner.  None of this surprise S&M business.  Be responsible sexers, please.  You have to ask before you role play.  You should discuss putting frozen coins on your partner’s vagina before doing so (you’ll see this later).  Just talk first.

Terrible Advice.

Before we start, let me remind you to NOT DO THESE THINGS TO ANYONE.

“Give your man a sexy massage by rubbing his buttcheeks and blowing on his crack when you spread them apart.”
That is a real piece of advice I read in Cosmo roughly five years ago.  I still remember it because it is so, so bad.

“Bite his nipples.”
What the what?  You should discuss this first.  Also, they should specify that you shouldn’t bite hard.  I can imagine this going so wrong…

“Text your man racy one-word messages that, when strung together, hint at what you want him to do to you that night.”
Why not just send a complete sentence?  For example, “I want you.”  Another example, “I’m gonna bleep your bleep so bleepy.”

“Build momentum by keying in to an ocean legend that the seventh in a series of sea waves is the strongest. Lie on your back on a bench and have your man make every seventh thrust his most powerful.”
This is impressively specific and ultimately weird.  What happens if you lose count?  Who taught them this?  How does this conversation start, “So, I know you’re really into sailing and screwing… I have a great way to combine your loves, and it’s not sex on a boat.”

“Pop an erotic film into the DVD player, and let the noises serve as inspiration — you’ll feel like you’re in the midst of an orgy.”
Obviously the person who wrote this piece of advise has never seen “an erotic film” because there is nothing realistic or romantic about them.  Watching two actors perform exaggerated sounds of pleasure while a camera crew watches them… That’s not sexy.  Also, do you really want to see a lady with the biggest boobs of all time right before you take off your own top?  I just think this one could end poorly.  You gotta really do some research.  Lots of research.

“Put a frozen grape in your mouth and warm it up a bit. Then hold it between your teeth and glide it down his neck, around his nipples, and over his lips. Finally, use your tongue to slip the grape into his mouth.”
This is really, really detailed.

“Pick up a couple of sushi rolls, lie down on your couch, and invite your man to enjoy a meal off your naked body. If he’s not a fan of raw fish, use Gummi bears instead.”  
Why Gummi Bears?  I just don’t understand why they went to Gummi Bears if sushi wasn’t acceptable.

“Try light choking.”
Again, this needs to be discussed ahead of time.  This is not a quick change.  Oy.

“Surprise him with anal.”
This should not be a surprise unless previously discussed and agreed upon.

“Put a bunch of very clean (seriously, wash them first) coins in the freezer.  Then, have your man use the coldness of the coins to toy with you while he uses his tongue.  The mix of hot and cold will drive you wild.”
Coins?  Do not put coins on your hooha.  I don’t care how long you wash them.  If you really want to try hot vs. cold, use ice or the grapes from earlier.  Don’t use money.  That’s so weird.  Plus, copper has that strange smell…  I just don’t think this is sexy at all.

I’m sure I’ll write a follow-up to this.  There’s a lot of weird stuff out there.

More on Mr. Akin’s Bullshit (“Legitimate Rape,” etc.)

First, he begs for Forgiveness….

It makes me so mad that he is saying that his issue is “the words” but not his “heart.”  Yes, the issue is about words.  When politicians, when men use words like this to discuss rape, they put it on women.  In our culture we tell women to not get raped, instead of telling men not to rape.

When women are forced to jump through hoops and relive their traumas to prove they were raped, they are being forced and traumatized again.  Abortion is legal and it’s staying that way.  Maybe we should focus on educating men that sexuality is about choice, agency, and mutual desire.  Men should be taught respect and self-control.  Women should be allowed to be sexual and men should be better than raping.  Let’s expect more of the men in our culture.

Let’s stigmatize raping, not being raped.  Victims are victims and they should not be ashamed.  Rapers are evil and they should never be excused.  All rapes are real and legitimate.

For Todd Akin to use these words makes me so angry.  For him to go on and “explain” that women who are raped cannot get pregnant… What the hell?  Who is this guy?  How can someone be that stupid?  Sorry, but pretty much anytime sperm goes into a lady’s vaginal crevasses she has a chance of getting pregnant.  That’s kind of how it works. Ugh.

Todd Akin is one of many politicians making shit up about women’s rights and bodies.  I’m sick and tired of men pretending like they understand rape and abortion.  Actually, a whole heck of a lot of men understand a lot about women – some even understand that there are things they can’t understand.  Many Republican politicians seem to be confused about vaginas, babies, rape, abortion, pregnancy, periods, and other such issues.  I would love to throw some tampons (new, don’t worry) at all the Republican senators… That would be amazing.

Leave our vaginas alone.  Unless you are invited, stay away.  Stay away.

Then, some really amazing grannies take him down.  I love when old ladies swear…

 

This girl also wrote an amazing song about it…

NBC, you’re sucking up the Olympics like your primetime schedule.

There are lots of things I like about NBC. Brian Williams is awesome. Richard Engel is super badass. They hired Howard freaking Stern as a judge on America’s Got Talent. Bob Costas pretty much got Jerry Sandusky to confess on the air. Those are pretty awesome things.

HOWEVER. They are sucking up their coverage of the Olympics.

  • Why did I never get to see ANY footage of American men or anyone else on the rings for the men’s gymnastics events?

    Apparently, this wasn’t worth showing.

  • Why did they completely cut Gabby Douglas’s and Aly Raisman’s routines on the balance beam (purportedly Raisman’s best event after the floor routine) in primetime coverage? Yet they showed the two Russians and the Chinese woman in their rotation…
  • Every single interview goes essentially thusly: How is it winning [insert level medal here]? How does that make you feel? To which everyone responds in some variation of “It’s overwhelming; I can’t put it into words.” And if I hear the Today show hosts ask one more kid if they slept with their medal under their pillow last night, I will strangle all of them, even though I kind of love Savannah Guthrie.
  • Only showing major events in primetime kind of sucks because it’s too easy to spoil it for yourself… *frowns at Twitter.*
  • NBC can’t even keep their own spoilers under control: see Missy Franklin’s first gold medal:
  • Moments before airing Missy Franklin’s tape-delayed Olympic victory in the 100-meter backstroke, NBC ran a promo for Tuesday’s edition of “Today” that said this:

They’re waiting for NBC to show the missing balance beam routines, too.

“When you’re 17 years old and win your first gold medal, there’s nobody you’d rather share it with.”
The network had yet to show Franklin’s win when it ran the “Today” teaser that included this photograph of the teen sensation standing on the medal stand with the gold draped around her neck.

  • Local coverage of the Olympics is nonsense. It’s like a giant masturbation fest for local news sportscasters who are all running amuck in London. I feel awful for Londoners; I felt particularly awful when our local sportscaster thought it’d be hilarious to ask everyone in the vicinity of Big Ben what time it was in an effort to get them to look at the giant clock. That’s worth a fork in my eye.
  • NBC decided it made more sense to cut a tribute to the victims of London’s 2005 terrorist bombings. They showed a clip of Ryan Seacrest’s interview with ass kissing of Michael Phelps instead.
  • Ryan Seacrest. Enough said.

    NBC: sucking up the Olympics since 1964.

Thighs of Glory (Read: Beyonce’s Thighs)

(Amendment at end.)

Today, I learned that I have thighs of glory.  This does not mean my thighs are skinny, because they are not and they never will be.  Skinny thighs give me the creeps.  A “gentleman” walking about downtown Ann Arbor exclaimed upon seeing my pasty, glorious thighs, that they were, in fact, “Sweet and juicy.”  My first reaction, as always, was to get incredibly angry.  I generally get hypermasculine, start swearing, and calling people dudes when I am approached in this manner.  As you might imagine, I do not like being approached by random men who want to comment on my specific body parts and their potential “uses.”  Instead, I simply laughed at these strange and utterly creepy proclamations of my thigh’s awesomeness.

I thought to myself, “Here I am, a slightly-less-fat-than-average person with well-developed leg muscles (mostly the calves), pasty skin, a partial sunburn on my forehead, jiggly thighs, and fairly low self-esteem.  Yet, this possibly drunk man has enjoyed the show (by show, I mean that I walked by in longer-than-apparently-average shorts).  Maybe, I will just laugh at this and be thankful that someone out there still understands that thighs are meant to be thick, strong, and fleshy.  Thighs should look like thighs.”

I would much rather have Beyonce’s thighs of glory (however pastier, less toned, and altogether less glorious), than skinny thighs (ahem, LeAnn Rhimes, Victoria Beckham, Kiera Knightly, almost every model, and Miley Cyrus).  I would rather look like Serena Williams than a 12-year-old.  Skinny thighs are for children.  Thick thighs are for women.

Beyonce looks amazing. Her thighs are made of glory, sunshine, dance skills, and squats.

Seriously, how great does Beyonce look?  This lady helped bring back the popularity of thicker thighs, and I am thankful.  The ladies who write this blog are fans of curves.  Curves are normal.  Beyonce is clearly above average in all ways, but I think we need to remember the glory of “sweet and juicy thighs.”

This picture is so intimidating and amazing. Serena Williams could jump over a skyscraper with those legs. She could crush anything. They are glorious.

Serena Williams could destroy us all with her thighs.  I feel pretty good about that.  She is strong and sexy; her presence in pop culture is good for women with curves.

I know that this post may seem a bit strange.  *After all, I did get inspiration from a drunken cat call.*  However, it is somewhat comforting that people are appreciating pale, fleshy thighs.  That’s all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amendment:

After reading some comments, I realize that this post needs clarification.  Thin thighs are not “unacceptable,” “horrible,” nor are they somehow inherently “bad.”  It is not bad to be a thin person.  No one is a villain simply having thin thighs.

What is bad and scary, then?

It is bad and scary to push a body to extremes.  It is bad to glorify thinness above all else.  It is bad to glorify unhealthy habits that push people into unhealthy weights.  Just as a person can be too fat, a person can be too thin.  Both are bad.  The thing, not a lot of people are striving to be fat.  A lot of people are spending their days and nights obsessing over being thin at any price.  A lot of people have blogs and tumblrs devoted to “thinspo” with all kinds of ways to get skinny.  There are too many little girls and women out there who hurt themselves to achieve a level of thin that is not healthy for them.

That said, making thin women the villain is wrong.

Thin women just so happen to be thin.  Many people want to be thin, and that’s okay.  But wanting to be thin, or wanting to have Beyonce’s thighs, at any cost… that’s scary.

Also, Beyonce is amazing.

Look Before You Squat: One Woman’s Advice on Toilet Seats

Ladies, look before you sit.  This seems to have reached epidemic levels.  Ladies’ lady parts are plunging themselves into toilets because they aren’t looking before plopping their naked asses on seats other people pee on.  This is something I, as a lady, find confusing.  You see, I’m quite protective of my bum and genitals, thus I look before I squat.

I always have, and thus, I have never fallen into the toilet.  I am really tired of hearing women complain about men leaving the seat up like they’re being attacked and/or disrespected.  Someone just forgot.  It’s like if someone left a seat cushion off a couch…  but you’d probably see that first, and then put it back before setting your rear end on it.  How is this a guy’s responsibility?  You should be more concerned about your own bum.  You should care more.  You shouldn’t feel so entitled.  Also, it’s just a damn toilet seat.  Just move it.  You’ll have to wash your hands either way.

Yes, I think it makes sense for the person who originally moved the seat to move it back, but who gives a crap?  (Pun SO, SO intended.)

Just look.  You’re putting your naked butt (which is really close to you genitals) on something AND YOU’RE NOT GONNA LOOK?

Just look.  What if there’s pee on the seat?  What if someone else’s pubes are on the seat?  Wouldn’t you want to check for that anyway?  Wouldn’t you also want to make sure there’s TP while you’re at it.  Just look.

Remember Jesus when you’re pooping

Evangelicals make it a point to spread the “word of God” everywhere. Including, it now seems, at a public bathroom near you.

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Taken in a public bathroom, June 19th

The last thing I want to think about when I’m doing my bathroom business is what Jesus would do. He’d probably shit just like everyone else, but I’m pretty sure it’s not necessary for me to be thinking about that while I am. I thought church was all weird about bathroom stuff anyhow; at the very least it’s weird about bathroom-related anatomy. So why put pamphlets–and not even one, but FOUR–on the TP dispenser? C’mon! Don’t make it so easy for me to make jokes about wiping my ass with your nonsense. And furthermore, you’re accosting me with Bible-thumping in the most private of places. But I guess Evangelicals in general have a demonstrated interest in ladyparts these days (and about our discussion of them), so why not the ladies’ room, right? REALLY. Give a sister a break.

On Men’s Rights

With all these recent political debates going about women’s health issues and so-called gay rights (ahem, Equal Rights, ahem), I thought it was only fair to question the rights of white, middle class males.  Hell, I’ll question the rights of all males!  That’s what we’re doing now, right?  We’re just picking a group at random and taking away everything they deserve, or steadily denying their obvious rights.  Great!  Men are first on my chopping block.

Editor’s Note:

Before we get started, I want to clarify the point of this post…

I understand that this blog might seem largely anti-man; it is meant to be a heavy-handed metaphor.  When someone says, “Men shouldn’t have the right to vote,” people can easily react with, “Well, that’s ridiculous and stupid.  We would never take away men’s right to vote just because they’re men.”  That’s what I’m going for…  If it is easy to see that we wouldn’t want to deny men’s rights simply based on their manliness, I hope it is easy to see that others shouldn’t be denied rights on equally basic identities.  We’re not confused as to whether or not sex is a choice in a man, but we are confused about the “choice” of things like sexuality, marriage, and abortion.  Personally, I don’t care if someone thinks being gay is a choice or not, either way, the rights should be provided.  I get to choose if I want to be a liberal, or an English major, or a girlfriend.  I want to also choose whether or not I can become a wife of a wife, or the wife of a husband.

I attacked men as an example.  I do not think men are solely or wholly responsible for these issues that exist in American politics.  That would be highly irresponsible.  I believe that men are historically given more power, more say, and more of a share when it comes to politics and political movement.  That does not, however, implicate all males as guilty parties in some kind of conspiracy.  It simply means that men tend to have more power.  This is why I chose to use men as a group.  Of course men won’t lose their rights.  That will never happen.  That’s why I thought it could be powerful.  This post is not meant to actually assert that men are evil and shouldn’t vote; it is simply a reframing of what seems to be rather random stripping of rights.  Birth control, for example, is suddenly up for debate again, and I think that is just as ridiculous as denying men the right to vote. 

 

Men should not have the right to vote.

  1. Because a man’s place is in the army.
  2. Because no really manly man wants to settle any question otherwise than by fighting about it.
  3. Because if men should adopt peaceable methods, women will no longer look up to them.
  4. Because men will lose their charm if they step out of their natural sphere and interest themselves in other matters than feats of arms, uniforms, and drums.
  5. Because men are too emotional to vote.  Their conduct at baseball games and political conventions shows this, while their innate tendency to appeal to force renders them particularly unfit for the task of government.

Men should have to register all emissions of a bodily nature. 

These emissions could have fertilized eggs, and are therefore alive.  Thus, any time a man commits murder by ejaculating somewhere besides a vagina, he should have to report the lost lives to the government.  If accidental, the man will simply be shamed and forced to live with the guilt.  If his emission is a purposeful (likely porn-inspired) event, he will be prosecuted for obstruction of life.  He will be forced to wear wooden undergarments for up to one year per emission.

Since birth control has suddenly become so controversial, it only seems right that we protect the rights of sperm denied the chance to swim into a cervix to burrow into a lady’s egg, and possibly create a possibly viable fetus.

Men should be punished for thinking the below things are “always lies.”

Sometimes women tell the truth.  Not all women are trying to get pregnant.  Some women don’t want kids, and a lot of women don’t want them for a long time.  For a lot women, the words, “I’m not mad,” mean that she is not mad.

Men should have to write essays of explanation to everyone they bang, and to everyone they know about they people they bang. 

As a woman, if I choose to sleep with anyone, I am opening myself up to all kinds of judgment.  There are so many political ties to my vagina, and I believe a man ought to have the same level of political tape to get through for banging someone.

P.S. – Sarcasm is a powerful tool we use against powerful tools.

10 Ways to Beat (Read: Hide) Your Phobia (as an “Adult”)

This past week, I faced my greatest fear: the dentist.  Though I gave myself multiple pep-talks, rationalized, and even texted my friends to demand their support, it didn’t go quite as planned.  In fact, it was pathetic.  I silently cried; my tears were only silent through brutish will power.  I had to use every ounce of strength I had to keep myself from shaking too hard… but it was still hard enough that the dentist had to stop a few times.  I almost hyperventilated twice, but I didn’t all the way.  It wasn’t a total disaster, but it was pretty sad.  Ultimately, I got through it.  It was embarrassing, but I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t scared, I couldn’t hide my shaking, I couldn’t convince anyone that I was just fine.  The dentist was able to perform the procedures I needed.  She comforted me with words of wisdom, general cooing, and music.  I had to be treated like a slightly stoic child.  The key to my “success” in overcoming my intense, phobia-level fear of the dentist can be found in this list…  Also, flossing helps.  Keep flossing.
  1. Be upfront.  Warn the people around you.  For me, that meant warning the dentist and her staff that I was afraid, and that I had hyperventilated previously, and that my fear would be a silent, but dramatic experience for us all.
  2. Make jokes.  Specifically, make self-effacing, situational jokes.  I had to address the fact that I was sitting there, mouth pried open, tears rolling down my cheeks, shaking like a Kardashian in the presence of a talented person, whimpering like a baby, while also attempting to be an adult.  No, really, I have my own insurance.  I have a full-time job.  I’m actually not a child… I think.
  3. Laugh at yourself.  If you don’t, you’ll look like a tool.  It was friggin’ hilarious to see me in that chair.  I had to accept that.  Plus, me laughing at the situation helped the dentist to know that I wasn’t angry, or terrified beyond reason.  I knew I was being ridiculous, and acknowledging that was important.
  4. Address yourself as a crazy person.  When facing the notion of dentistry, I must remind myself that I am crazy.  It helps.
  5. Remember what the benefits are.  I just kept reminding myself that people go to the dentist all the time, and that I care about my ability to chew.  Chewing means eating watermelon.  I cannot live without watermelon.
  6. Talk to yourself.  A LOT.  Whilst undergoing my drillings and fillings, I had a little mantra going.  It went like this, “Breathe slowly.  Don’t bite her.  You’re not in pain.  Breathe slowly.  Don’t bite her.  You’re not in pain.”  When that failed, I had to remind myself that my actual fear was that I would be hurt, but that I’d felt much worse pain that actually possible from dentistry.
  7. If you must cry, do it silently.
  8. Thank everyone around you, often and sincerely.  Those poor people who had to work on me.  I was awful.  I was scary.  I apologized 400 times.
  9. Limit exposure to humans, especially children.  If you think you might scream, cry, yell, flip-the-eff-out, you should make sure you’re passing your fear on to as few people as possible.  I didn’t want some poor 5-year-old to be sitting in the waiting room, listening to me panic, and think, “Holy moly.  They’re torturing people back there.”
  10. Take all the medication you are offered.  From laughing gas to Novocaine, I was drugged up, and it really helped.  Accept all numbing concoctions, pills, gasses, and creams.  Don’t pretend you’re stronger than you are.