Christina Aguilera as a Hot, Scary, Brightly-Colored Serial Killer in “Your Body” (and she’s still not fat)

I know, I know… I write too many blog posts about Christina Aguilera.  I’m sorry, but I absolutely idolized her when I was a little girl.  I would sit in my room and stare at my stereo while I tried to figure out if I could ever get that good at singing.  Answer: nope.  I just want other people to realize that she’s pretty much the most talented singer to ever exist, and that she’s really gorgeous and not at all fat.  Once again, NOT FAT.  I also really want to like her.  I want her to be more likable.  I want to fall back in love with my idol.

Ugh.  Okay, now that I’ve done that part, let’s get on with the post.

“Your Body” is Christina Aguilera’s latest release.  It’ fun and cool.  It’s crazy and vulgar.  It’s probably just what her career needed.  Our popular culture machine is all about vulgar these days.  I mean, have you heard that damn song about “whistling” (goes something like: “Can you blow my whistle?  …  Just put your lips together and come real close…”)?  It’s terrible and it’s obviously about blow jobs.  We get it, Flo Rida, you like blow jobs.

Pop music these days is all about sex and drinking and drunk sex…  It’s not a new trend, but the crazy bright colors, upsetting patterns, and overly intense cartoon themes are all new to me.  I hate them.  That said, this video is kind of awesome.  I’m surprised I think that, but I do.  It’s like a candy-porn snuff film.

Even though I find the whole video questionable, I feel like it’s a not-sad comeback for her.  She looks sexy in a scary, trashy, dirty (maybe dirrrrty), scented-marker kind of way.  I should hate this video, but I don’t.

She’s a Crayola serial killer out to get men who’ve done her no wrong.  She’s just randomly killing.  I think it actually might be a satire of current culture’s acceptance, encouragement, and of sleeping around.  It might actually be an intellectual argument.  This could be a real, live satire.

The song itself is about screwing random people.  As she says, “So, don’t even tell me your name.  All I need to know is: who’s place?  And let’s get walking…”  She doesn’t even want to know your name, she just wants to love your body.  The song is about random sex and how great/wonderful it is.  Basically, “All [she] want[s] to do is love your body.”

But, maybe…  Just maybe…  This video is kind of making fun of that.  Christina Aguilera has always made pretty average pop music with a way-above-average voice; maybe she knows that.  Maybe she knows that she’s better than all of this.  She should be singing amazing ballads and jazz and more stuff that sounds like, “Beautiful,” instead of “Dirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrty.”  I think that this video might know that.

Why?  Well, because instead of loving all these bodies of men, she’s killing them.  Then, there exploding with glitter and blue goo.  Maybe singing that you want to love someone’s body, and then visually showing that you actually want to kill them randomly and viciously, maybe that is a joke.  Maybe it’s an acknowledgement of the absurdity of today’s pop music.

Perhaps more interestingly, Ms. Aguilera sings, “Fuck your body…” in the explicit version of the song.  Maybe she really means that she wants to “fuck up” their bodies rather than “love them sweetly.”

Okay, it’s probably just a crazy video for a crazy song.  I just really want to believe in my idol, a former “Genie in a Bottle,” and a forever bottle-blond.  She’s probably just a dirrrrrty girl.

Oh, and here’s some bonus goo:

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…

Only Forcible or Legitimate Rapists Need Apply

Okey dokey, Republicans in the U.S. Senate. Do we really need to go over this again? What the fuck were you doing during high school Biology and/or Health class, or did you spend the entirety of high school asking Jesus to punish you for your teenage boner from looking at Prom Queen Kelly Ann Simons too long? Todd Akin (R-MO)–you may remember him from the “forcible rape” debacle of a bill he co-sponsored with none other than our new pal Paul Ryan (R-WI)–apparently told KTVI-TV the following on Sunday: “From what I understand from doctors, [pregnancy from rape] is really rare. If it’s a legitimate rape, the female body has ways to try to shut that whole thing down.”

I would like to tell the men of the U.S. Congress something very important: the female body is not magic. The vagina is not a mysterious pit that has the power to discern the motivations of the penis entering it and conveniently stop a pregnancy if the dick looks or acts rape-y. Since when did the discourse around the female body slide back into the mentality of fourth grade boys who have heard shady rumors from kids two years older than them that have grossly misunderstood their sex ed classes? (Sidenote: these are the same people who think we shouldn’t teach sex ed in school. Apparently “magical vaginas” should be the standard for biological knowledge of sexual intercourse.)

After apologizing for his comments, Akin went on to say he screwed up; what he really meant wasn’t “legitimate rape” but “forcible rape”:

Akin appeared as a guest on former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee’s radio show. When asked about what he meant by the term “legitimate rape,” he said, “I was talking about forcible rape, and it was absolutely the wrong word.”

His bad, guys. But seriously, what the fuck!? How has some nonsense term like forcible rape even entered our general lexicon? What the hell does it mean? And one of the idiots who co-sponsored the initial “forcible rape” bill nonsense is running for Vice President of the United F*&$ING STATES OF AMERICA!!! This isn’t a problem of terminology. Rape is forced. Any rape is legitimate because it’s RAPE. If somebody puts their dick in you and you don’t want it there, that’s rape. It doesn’t matter how you were dressed or what you ate for breakfast. It doesn’t matter what you look like, how skinny or fat you are, how old or young you are, whether you’re dressed like a prostitute or a housewife: if you say no, it fucking means no. It doesn’t mean that it’s not rape if she’s wearing booty shorts and he does a lot of begging and then just does what he wants.

Do we really need to parce rape into different degrees of culpability on the part of the rapist? Rape is rape. Period. And on top of this, citing some nonsense pseudo-science about mystery secretions and hormonal changes under stressful situations makes every woman who ever says no and is violated and impregnated a dirty, lying whore. Scientifically.

The discourse surrounding not only rape but women’s rights to control their bodies (and one doesn’t even have to look to the issue of abortion anymore, just birth control!) is in the toilet. From personhood amendments to ultrasound probes to “forcible rape,” there’s a lot of finger pointing at and distrust of women as a class of people. I thought we had made strides in this department. I guess not. I’m just hoping this forcible rape nonsense doesn’t turn into a steaming pile of forcible bullshit in November.

10 Ways to Test Your Relationship

Relationships are hard, weird, and hopefully great.  Every relationship will be tested naturally, but if you’re looking for ways to see just how strong, or good, or whatever your relationship is, here are some ideas.

  1. Ask about porn.  When you do this, make sure to ask about the frequency, type, subject, and any other details you can imagine.  The more you push for details, the more of a test it really will be.  Once you’ve completed asking about this wonderful subject, make  certain you share your interests and preferences just as openly.
  2. Road Trip!  Being trapped in a car for hours and hours and hours is a sure-fire way to see if you secretly hate each other.  Plus, if your partner doesn’t shoot you when you scream and startle them upon seeing a spider…  You’re golden.
  3. Fart in front of your partner while maintaining eye contact.  I haven’t tried this, but it seems like it would work.
  4. Have a really awful day.  Then, hang out.  While it’s hot.  And you’re tired.  Experiment away!
  5. Go hiking.  You will quickly learn if you or your partner are whiny, lazy, weepy, weak, annoying, or cool.
  6. Debate who is weirder.  This will get ugly fast.  You will see what your partner finds odd and possibly annoying about you.  If you can withstand this, you’ll be alright.
  7. Have weird sex.  I don’t care if it’s role play, bondage, blindfolded, exhibitionist, group, or just different – try something a little out of your comfort zone together.  When you do this, you will either build trust and see that you already have a great deal.  OR it will be an awkward mess and perhaps a sign that you should avoid each other forever.  OR maybe it’s bad, but you can both laugh.  It’s a test.  You be the judge.
  8. Meet the parents.  What could be more telling than that?  Do you hate your partner’s parents?  Do they hate yours?  Are they creepy together?  Do you feel judged?  It will be awkward, but you can do it… and if you can’t, maybe you’ve failed.
  9. Meet the friends.  You will be judged so damn hard.  Get ready.  Get set.  Get to impressing.  Friends will tell it like it is.  You have to impress each other’s friends, or you will ruin each other’s lives.
  10. Throw up on your partner’s bedroom floor.  Trust me, this will test you both. Big time.  If your partner simply begins to take care of you, cleans your barf, and then refuses to sleep to maintain surveillance of you and your illness for the night, then they are awesome, and they deserve major rewards.  If they get mad at you and tell you to clean it up, they might be a real dick.  The lover that holds your hair deserve high praise and hella love.

Your Bra Size Is NOT My Concern

Sometimes, I am a loud-mouth.  Still, I have self-control, and an awareness of myself whilst in public places.  A young lady I encountered today was lacking in the whole control area, but she was clearly an expert in loud-mouthery.  Man, oh, man…  She could talk.  LOUD.  She struck me as the kind of person who updates her facebook status at least twice a day; likely about half of those statuses are vague and emotional so that people will ask what’s wrong.  Basically, I’m saying she was really darn annoying.

We were all trapped trying on clothes in the Salvation Army, when some loud-mouthed teen decided to declare her cup-size to us all.  I was not amused.  Here are a few things she exclaimed:

  • “I’M ONLY 5’1″ AND MY BOOBS ARE D-CUPS!  D-CUPS, I TELL YOU [and everyone else].”
  • “OH MY GOD, STACY.  YOU HAVE TO COME SEE HOW HILARIOUS I LOOK.  MY TITS ARE SPILLING OUT ALL OVER THE PLACE.  IT’S RIDICULOUS.”
  • “DEFINITELY WHEN I’M DONE LOSING WEIGHT, I’LL BE ABLE TO FIT IN THIS… OF COURSE, THAT’S ONLY IF MY D-CUPS SHRINK! HAHA!  THEY’RE SO BIG!”
  • “UGH! I HATE MY D-CUPS!”
  • “MY BOOBS ARE SO HUGE.  IT’S SO AWFUL HAVING BOOBS THIS BIG.”
  • “BIG BOOBS ARE THE WORST.”
  • “NO ONE MAKES CLOTHES FOR BOOBS THIS BIG!”

I have a lot of issues with this.  First of all, don’t scream about your boobies in the middle of a store.  It’s one thing to say to your companion, “This won’t fit over my boobs,” or, “Haha! Look at this.”  It’s very different to share your cup-size like a news announcement.   I promise, no one cares as much as you do.  You can share the moment with your friend, but you don’t need to share it with everyone else.  There are kids around, and old folks, and folks who just have normal levels of privacy…  They don’t care.

Also, they do make clothes for big boobs.  As a lady with boobs EVEN BIGGER than yours, I can assure you that I wear clothing that I do not make.  Therefore, some clothing has to fit over boobs of that stature.  Yes, it is harder to find button-ups, bathing suits, dresses, and tanktops, but you learn to deal.  Big boobs happen.  Big shirts happen too.  You just have to accept that you can’t fit into anything and everything… You know, like everyone else.

Another thing, most people don’t want to hear complaints about big boobs.  Big boobs get a lot of press and a lot of love.  Maybe don’t whine in front of all the A-Cups and B-Cups of the world.  They’re hatred of you and your D-Cups could penetrate your skull and crush you at any moment.  Stop complaining.  You’ll be fine.

Maybe I’m just a cranky old lady, but I just don’t want to hear about a stranger’s boobs from across the store.

Do you think Christina Hendricks screams, “HOW WILL I FIT MY CRAZY-HUGE TITTAYS IN THIS OUTFIT?!” every time she tries to buy a tanktop?  No.  She does not.  Christina Aguilera doesn’t either.  Some ladies have big boobies.  Every single person who sees a lady with big boobies will, with a doubt, notice that she has them.  Big boobs are kind of hard to miss.  Therefore, they don’t need to be announced in the Salvation Army dressing rooms.


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.