2004-10-04— Posted by: allegra
I am pleased to report, that for this Sunday at least, the size of the youth group went up 50%, from two to three.
Katie is talking to Kai on the phone. Matt hasn’t phoned in 5 days and they are discussing how they will abuse him. Fortunately she is just blowing off steam. It’s too bad, really, he seemed like such a nice guy. I said she should wait until he’s explained himself, but she’s justing waiting to see him again so she can dump him.
I’m glad I’m not young anymore.
OOO OOO pr0n for my mom
2005-10-04— Posted by: allegra
Go nuts, ma, your Dream Boy is in there someplace…..
Moving right along
2006-10-04— Posted by: allegra
I am trying to intuit what Katie’s school fees are this morning; I have emails from the school saying pay up but there’s nothing to indicate what the Viking tax is to keep Katie in school. Yes I know they just declared school fees illegal.
Her boyfriend is trying to pre-emptively break up with her so he can walk away having dumped her. Young love! Katie doesn’t even appear upset about it.
Keith and I watched I Dood It last night. I don’t know what to say about this movie except that it has some of the wildest stuff imaginable in it with interminably long spells of not much happening. The song by the Jimmy Dorsey band and the Eleanor Powell rope dance at the beginning was enough to make my eyes pop out. Anyway, it stars Red Skelton and guests Lena Horne and Butterfly McQueen and the INCOMPARABLE Hazel Scott – her guest bit had my jaw on the floor – what an A MA ZING ivory tickler she was. (Dr. Filk wandered in just before that started and HE was pretty gobsmacked too). Oh, and there’s one piece of physical comedy (Red Skelton trying to get a passed out Eleanor Powell, who appears to be shapely string stuffed into a wedding dress, from the floor to a bed) that was so funny I ran out of air.
If I appear cheerful at the moment, it’s partly because I have a happy secret! I will tell you if you ask me nice, but I can’t post it publicly.
Tonight I would like to rant about the lack of menstruation rituals in our culture. Tonight I’m going to take the man’s view, as the woman’s view about it isn’t nearly transgressive enough for me ce soir la. Jeez, where’s an accent grave when I need one…
If I was a man, I would want rituals and predictive patterns in young women’s lives that preserved their fertility for their true purpose, namely, making babies with me and not with other men. Having some kind of ceremony where it was drilled into the girl’s head that she had one shot at the childbearing game and if she slept with the wrong guy it was game the fuck over would be useful if my strategy for access to childbearing women meant I was employed and civil. Mind you, if my strategy is to just rape the shit out of her and hope for a lucky plug, it’s still better than if she was really trying to save it for the right guy. Her body may betray her and pop an egg for me. I’d be the ‘wrong guy’ – but I’d still be first. Now, the sperm competition theory of fucking, which holds that guys enjoy sharing girls because if you’re second (or later) you come way harder (your sperm will ‘wash away’ that of your, uh, competitor/buddy), so if you let your buddy go first, because you don’t really care if you get her pregnant, and you’d prefer to come harder because of your wiring, you’ve more or less dropped out of the discussion about breeding. You’ve actually given some consideration to the notion, which is why you’re wearing a condom while all of these shenanigans are going on. I mean, it’s still rape, but there’s a different angle. You get it now? All different styles of thinking about ‘the breeding thing’ lead to different results in terms of how it affects the woman’s life. Oh, sorry, I’ve gone back into the women’s way of thinking about this, ‘scuse me all to hell.
So mOm, did I make you laugh really hard on the phone tonight, or what?
Back to the subject at hand. Women should have menstruation rites so that they actually have two whole chunks of time to think about fertility without having to do any work. That is, in part, what rituals are all about. It’s about the whole “stop working and start thinking” thing that has made humanity what it is. Having enough excess capacity in your life to be able to stop and think is what makes for civil life. Having the spare time to develop morality makes morality. Leisure, in short, makes ethical life possible. But don’t worry, in the end it’s all about sex. Yeehaw. Hurry hurry love.
Did I ever say why it was I refer to my mother as mOm? It’s because when I spell her title that way, it is the “Kilroy was here” or “Clem” sign. See his hands, on either side of his head? Te he. But I also do it because of where I got the idea of it, pOp – which is a clown face with a big nose in the middle. Squint and you’ll see.
October 4 2008 – no post
Nepalese food, a change in venue, a beautiful sunset – Oct 4 2009
I got off the plane and went straight to Jan and Soon’s. Jan blinked at me and said, “Weren’t you supposed to phone me?”
I had forgotten how beautiful the underlit sunsets are in this town.
Anyway, life in her household was sufficient for a cuppa, but not really for crash space, as she had hella work to do (I still hung out and we flapped our ears for a couple of hours and she had lots of news, good bad and odd).
So I called Catherine, and we had a very pleasant evening catching up (oooo, gossip about exes, I loves me some of that!) and eating at the Mt. Everest which has berloody awesome food and I had my first Kingfisher in ages. Then we came back here and shot some more s*(t and then I crashed. The wireless here works very nicely. At some point I’m going to ask Catherine for another drum solo. She has a really intense Chinese cymbal that sounds like part of the soundtrack for The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires.
Ain’t the internet grand?