My Fine Is $850

My best friend and I have been friends since age 3 when my family moved in across the street from hers. Over the course of nearly 4 decades she and I have had many, many sordid misadventures, mostly when we were teenagers, but we've also been known to run rampant occasionally as adults. We've had a long-running argument of at least 20 years now about which one of us is more morally corrupt, evil, kinky, whatever. She, of course, insists that I am "worse" than her and naturally I respond to the contrary. Honestly I've always thought we were about the same until she sent me the following:

This is fun to do. Just read the "offense" and if you've done it, you owe that fine. Keep going until you've read each "offense" and added up your total fine. When you are done, send it back to the person that sent it to you and your other friends.
Title your email "My fine is $........"
You don't have to confess your answers, just the total amount of your fine.

Smoked pot -- $10
Did acid -- $5
Ever had sex at church -- $25
Woke up in the morning and did not know the person who was next to you --$40
Had sex with someone on MySpace -- $25
Had sex for money -- $100
Ever had sex with a Puerto Rican -- $20
Vandalized something -- $20
Had sex on your parents' bed -- $10
Beat up someone -- $20
Been jumped -- $10
Crossed dressed -- $10
Given money to stripper -- $25
Been in love with a stripper -- $20
Kissed some one who's name you didn't know -- $10
Hit on some one of the same sex while at work -- $15
Ever drive drunk -- $20
Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk -- $50
Used toys while having sex -- $30
Got drunk, passed out and don't remember the night before -- $20
Went skinny dipping -- $5
Had sex in a pool -- $20
Kissed someone of the same sex -- $10
Had sex with someone of the same sex -- $20
Cheated on your significant other -- $10
Masturbated -- $10
Cheated on your significant other with their relative or close
friend--$20
Done oral -- $5
Got oral -- $5
Done / got oral in a car while it was moving -- $25
Stole something -- $10
Had sex with someone in jail -- $25
Made a nasty home video -- $15
Had a threesome -- $50
Had sex in the wild -- $20
Been in the same room while someone was having sex -- $25
Stole something worth over more than a hundred dollars -- $20
Had sex with someone 10 years older -- $20
Had sex with someone under 21 and you are over 27 -- $25
Been in love with two people or more at the same time -- $50
Said you love someone but didn't mean it -- $25
Went streaking -- $5
Went streaking in broad daylight -- $15
Been arrested -- $5
Spent time in jail -- $15
Peed in the pool -- $50
Played spin the bottle -- $5
Done something you regret -- $20
Had sex with your best friend -- $20
Had sex with someone you work with at work -- $25
Had anal sex -- $80
Lied to your mate -- $5
Lied to your mate about the sex being good -- $25

Tally it up and Title it ... "My Fine Is..." Then send it to some friends and the person that sent it to you.

Now in the interest of protecting the guilty, all I can say is that I'm glad I didn't have to multiply the fines for the number of times certain offenses were committed because the fines would be astronomical.

Her "reported" fine is $750, but it's not the end of the argument. I swear she's leaving some stuff out. I ought to know - I was there for most of it.

Sex Talk Redux

Sometimes people surprise me. As the grand finale to two days of lecture about sex and sexuality, I had prepared a mashup of slides from the Centers for Disease Control that showed various and sundry body parts (mostly oozing and/or crusty) afflicted with an assortment of sexually transmitted diseases. Seriously, these were pictures that made one ask, "Why the hell did they wait so damn long to go to the doctor!?" while cringing and grasping at one's own genitalia.

Mind you, these were nasssssty stuff, my preciousss. So I forewarned them at the end of Thursday's lecture that we'd be looking at STD pictures Tuesday and that when the time came, anyone who was squeamish or didn't think they could handle it for whatever reason could leave. No question asked. Granted, I encouraged them to stay, particularly if they had little or no experience with sex so they'd know what to be on the lookout for, just in case. Still, it was their call.

To my astonishment, when the time came though, nobody chickened out and left. Not even the ones I was sure would take me up on my offer for a reprieve because of religious reasons or whatever. Will wonders never cease?

tags technorati : sex, teaching

And We All Get It In The End

Okay y'all, for a truly, delectable, sensual treat, get thee to Netflix and obtain the John Cameron Mitchell movie "Shortbus." Tell 'em drsharna sent you ;o) The main characters are a sex therapist who's never had an orgasm, a gay couple and a dominatrix. Just one teensy caveat: put your homophobic, misanthropic, misogynistic and/or sex-negative hats away and open your narrow, shallow little minds just a little bit for an hour and 42 minutes. Reject every single one of your preconceived notions about sex and sexuality and just take it all in. The finale of the indoor marching band alone makes it worth the trip. This one's going in my top 10 movies of all time.



Big hugs, luvz, smooches & rainbow love for all - back to work.

Why the Hell Don't They Just Say So?

Goddammit. Here's another example of statistical mumbo-jumbo that turns out to be so fucking simple the grandtwins could do it. I spent an hour on the phone - in tears - Monday with Statsguy trying to figure out what the statistical tests mean so that I can write about them in a semi-intelligent manner. Of course he's helped a zillion ABDs reach their PhDs and because he does it all the time, it's easy for him. It's not for me. He kept telling me, "Don't worry about the math part or what it means, just report it." He didn't seem to understand that my school is really, really into the "philosophy" part of the PhD. They like deep meaning and explanations so detailed you want to bash your own head in with a tire iron. I had to get off the phone with the guy because I was about ready to detonate. Trust me, nobody needs to be subjected to that.

So my busy schedule and I finally calmed down enough to tackle writing up the proposed data analysis today when I got home from teaching (would you believe those horny buggers wanted to talk about sex again, today?). At any rate I thought the best way to see how it's done (not the sex but the proposed data analysis) is to just look up a few pieces of research with statistical analyses similar to the one I'm planning and use them as models for what I need to get done.

Well I'll be go to hell if each of the half dozen or so articles I pulled up didn't have just a single paragraph of maybe four or five sentences dedicated to the statistical tests to be used. Not only that, but they were succinct and direct. There was no prattling on about it either, just, "We're going to use these couple of tests for parametric data and these couple of tests for nonparametric data." That's it. Here I was trying to imbue some kind of meaning like a good student in my program should and it's not necessary. Motherfucker. Why don't they just say this shit in the first place?

(cue gnashing of teeth)

tags technorati : dissertation, statistics, bitching

I May Be In Trouble...

The Man & I aren't much for New Years' resolutions. We just try to live the best way we can each day and move on without guilt if we don't live up to our own standards. So far that approach has worked for us for a long time. Well, that is until yesterday.

We hold dear the superstition that says whatever you are doing New Year's Day is what you'll find yourself doing all year long, so among other luxuries and indulgences of the day, we make it a point to start the new year off with a "bang," so to speak. Now we're not one of those couples who reserve nookie for birthdays, anniversaries and high holidays. No, any old time is fine. I don't make him beg for sex, don't use it as a weapon, and we are still as active as we were 14 years ago when we decided we liked each other well enough to spend time together naked. Actually we're more active now because we didn't live together until 3 years later, to the tune of anywhere from 3-7 consistently mutually satisfactory copulations a week after living under the same roof for over a decade. Nothing to sneeze at by any standards.

So yesterday right after our annual tradition of starting the new year off right, he says, something like, "My resolution is more sex this year." Seriously? More? For his age bracket he already gets tenfold more than any of his friends and cronies, and for people together and married as long as we have been we're ahead of the curve. Honestly, I'm not sure where we'll fit it in.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not complaining. I just might need to call in reinforcements. What's your sister's number?

Dayamn. Where You Been At?

Hi y'all. First, I want to thank everyone who was kind enough to take the time to email or comment to check on me, especially since I missed CCC Monday. No, I didn't meet some untimely demise, but a really really lot has been going on and I've either not had time or energy to get in and make a post, although I have been leaving a comment or two here and there on other people's blogs. I'm okay - quite well, actually - just way busy. Soooo I suppose an update is in order to cover the activities of the last couple of weeks. Settle in, this post is going to run a little long - even for me.

The Girl
We traveled down to the other side of Austin to Texas State University in San Marcos over Memorial Day weekend for the All-State Solo & Ensemble competition. The Girl made a second division on her memorized class I solo. She had a little bauble in the "easier" first movement, and never fully recovered from it. She played the second movement that she was so worried about the memorization almost flawlessly. She had a little stall in the third movement, but overall she did a great job. Then again, they say that a I at region is like a III at state so her II is flippin' awesome for a Freshman, really. She even got a little silver medal to put on her letter jacket - yeah, she lettered when she made All-Region symphonic band back in December. If I haven't mentioned it before, she's a phenomenal flute player. Better than I EVER was, and I was damn good, as in full-ride scholarship good.

I've been watching the situation with the boyfriend and it's not been meeting with my approval, especially since the Hickey Incident that I didn't blog about but has kept me from allowing The Girl to go over to his house again - ever - even with his parents at home, since clearly this type of behavior isn't unacceptable in their world. Recently some of his friends called her to tell her that even though he's been pushing for exclusivity with The Girl, he had sex with another girl at a party at their house, and that they had gotten into a physical altercation with him over it. Naturally, he denied it. To her credit, she told him "You know, whether you did it or didn't do it is irrelevant. I don't need the drama," and broke up with him. The friends called her a few days later to tell her they made it up so she took him back.

She and I went to his high school graduation last week and had an interesting and character-building experience. His family wanted us to sit with them. I was trying to not do that, but they were waiting for us near the entrance (grr). The dad was drunk off his ass, reeking of scotch and behaving inappropriately - big damn surprise. Now, this was the same high school I graduated from over 20 years ago and it was the White Trash Capital of Texas even then but oh. mah. gawd. There didn't appear to be any respect or decorum for the nature of the event. People were there in cutoff shorts, tank tops, flip flops, walking up and down the stairs, talking on their cell phones, screaming and yelling when their graduate's name was called so that the next name couldn't be heard. I couldn't hear any of the speeches over the din of the funkified white trash parade. It was not good and I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I am rather proud of myself for having the self-restraint to not commandeer the microphone and loudly proclaim that the graduation was off and if they would all kindly return to their trailers, the world would be a better place.

The Girl got really upset with me earlier this week over him. I told her I realized he was the first boy who ever really liked her back, but asked her what she could possibly see in him. He doesn't have a job, doesn't have a car, doesn't follow through and is mooching off his best friend & his live-in girlfriend (who are barely scraping by with their high school diplomas and minimum wage jobs) since his dad kicked him out of the house (again). He's been "gonna" get a job since we've known him and hasn't made that happen. He was supposed to swear in to the Army several weeks ago and still hasn't done it, putting him in danger of being arrested, and us being arrested for harboring if he comes to our house. The government is really funny about making sure people who have signed contracts with them hold up their end of the deal, and he doesn't believe that they WILL come after him if he doesn't follow through. Call me neurotic, but I'm not willing to go to jail and lose everything I've worked for for the last 10 years over his skinny ass.

There are millions of guys out there who would love to have a smart, funny, pretty girlfriend like The Girl - guys who understand that a date is when the boy picks the girl up, takes her somewhere and pays for it...not the girl's mama driving over to pick him up in another town (and/or taking him back home), then bringing him back to her house where she has to cook the food that she bought and watch movies for which she paid. He told me once that he wants to be a good husband and father and I told him that in order to be those things, he has to be a good boyfriend first. So far he's not showing me the model of a good boyfriend. I told him that I'm tired of it, tired of her being so worked up over him when he has not proven himself worthy of such drama and that I'm not going to allow her to see him until he gets his act together. Basically I dared him to go out and be successful - then, we'll talk about whether he's acceptable boyfriend material. I've been fortunate to have other strong women like my mom, my best friend and an unsolicited waitress at the ready to reinforce my hard line of "No Scrubs." I don't think I'm being too harsh about this. We'll see if he actually leaves for boot camp July 9th like he's supposed to. I have a sneaking suspicion he'll find more excuses as to why he can't live up to his word.

Between taking her to class with me, shopping for party supplies & band camp gear and having friends over to swim nearly every day, I've been keeping The Girl inordinately busy. She'll be at band camp 150 miles away all next week. Then she'll be too busy helping prepare for 3 parties in just over 3 weeks to even think about boys. Well, except for one of her best girlfriends - Jason, which is a story for another day.

The Home Front
Mother's Day found me with a brand new gas grill that I'm still trying to adjust to the subtleties of proper flame adjustment but I'm getting there (as seen in the above pic of the eastern half of our magic pahhhtio). See, our family is a little back-asswards. Usually it's the dad who does the grilling. Around here, it's me. The Man smokes a To. Die. For. brisket on the 4th of July, but overcooks my steaks, so I don't let him near my grill. The Girl and I like 'em bleeding and twitching and he has never grasped the concept of putting ours on several minutes after his. Besides, with his work schedule he barely has time or energy to eat, much less cook.

Since The Man's daughter and her family moved to a house nearby, we've been spending a lot more time with them. The Man's first wife and her husband have also been spending a lot of time there. It's a little odd to hang out with the first wife but I like her and I guess since it's been over 20 years since they divorced and they have both moved on, it's kind of a good thing. They are planning to come for the 4th.

Speaking of, my house is party central this summer and we have loads of reasons to celebrate. We are hosting 3 parties in the next few weeks. First will be The Man's birthday gathering on the 16th. I'm going to keep it simple and low-key for about 20 guests. I'll be grilling steaks over the fire pit and serving them with salad, baked potatoes and some kind of bread. Instead of birthday cake though, I'm going to make his favorite dessert - coconut meringue pie. The following weekend, Suz, my best friend since age 3 is getting married here. She's hired a kick ass blues band for the party afterwards and has already made arrangements for a couple of kegs and the margarita machine. Cool thing about that is that we know the margarita machine guy - I dated him briefly in high school, we've done business with him for years, and Suz's beloved graduated with his wife and they were really good friends. They'll be here for the party and depending on how much margarita machine business he has between the wedding and the 4th of July, he may just leave the machine here since he'll have to bring it back anyway ;oD. We won't be able to leave the house! My liver is screaming, already... Party number 3 is our legendary annual 4th of July bash, which we will be having on the 4th this year because of The Man's work schedule and our July travel schedule will make having it on either of the surrounding weekends a problem.

The Man
Speaking of The Man, we had a bit of a spat Friday night. Instead of screaming and crying or pouting about the situation, as women are wont to do, I gave him a very sweet Hallmark card, wrote him a heartfelt letter encouraging him to leave his place of employment and gave him the "Get Out of Jail Free" card from the Monopoly game Saturday when he got home from work. I can hear the brakes squealing, now... "WHAT!? You aren't working but you want the breadwinner of the family to quit his job!?" In a word, yes. You see, we were never better as a couple than the year and a half he was unemployed. He was happy farming his hay and cattle and doing a little consulting work on the side. He had energy left over at the end of the day to be "present" with his family and friends - not just taking up space or squeezing them in when he had a minute. He was a better husband, dad, friend, brother...he was just better and we all miss that Man terribly.

The job has literally sucked the life out of him. He leaves for work at 5:30 in the morning and doesn't get home until after 7 in the evening most nights and he has to work every other Saturday - in a place where the company culture is steeped in negativity and crazy-making bullshit. When he gets home he barely has the energy to eat dinner, then he passes out on the sofa in front of the TV and I have to wake him up when I go to bed - and it takes several attempts to rouse him. I've tried to be patient, loving and understanding, but it has taken a toll on our nearly 14-year relationship and has essentially killed our sex life (<--decidedly not good). Unfortunately that was pretty much the first thing to go.

Sure, the money was a little tight but we made it work and considering that we didn't have all the extra expenses like the gas from driving 90 miles a day, $200 a month in dry cleaning, all of the business lunches he pays for, and his work clothes, which includes custom made shirts (our sales rep Ann Atkins is fabulous, by the way), $200 shoes, $40 a pop for ties - on sale...the list goes on...maybe when you factor all that in, the job isn't worth the money.

I want my husband back. Our friends and family want him back, too. We made it before, we can sooo do it again. Besides, I'll be going back to work again soon so that will generate some income aside from what he can draw from the interest in his retirement fund. I saw him slide that little yellow card into his shirt pocket this morning. Keep sending that positive energy his way.

The Dissertation
Okay, so (Queso!? I LOVE queso!) I turned in my dissertation May 22nd, fully expecting to get slammed with another round of revisions. Didn't happen. Wednesday, June 6, I got the "officially official" official notification that I get to defend my dissertation July 19th and graduate July 21. No shit. Cool thing about my program is that they don't let you defend until the dissertation is at a point where they know you cannot fail. I received a few very minor edits from beloved second faculty reader a couple of days ago and talked to him on the phone about them last night. I was seriously prepared for a lot of shit to be thrown at me but he just wants me to expand my discussion section a little and add something about the Yerkes-Dodson Law. Then, once Her Majesty My Dissertation Chair is happy with it, he's happy with it. Of course, she said once he's happy with it, she's happy with it. So if everybody else is happy, I'm happy. Then I have to put together about a 45-minute Keynote (sort of like PowerPoint but way better) presentation about it for July and if there are any more minor edits, I can do them after graduation. Even though I've made all the appropriate travel plans and reservations, addressed the invitations and have ordered the academic regalia and signet ring, (although mine will be antiqued yellow gold with my school seal on top, PhD on one side & 2007 on the other) it doesn't seem real. There will be much partying going on that week, too, it just won't be at my house, but more on that later.

Shit. Now I have to start actively looking for a job. If you know of anyone looking for an already-licensed neuropsychology postdoctoral fellow in the Dallas/Fort Worth or Waco areas, send 'em my way. They won't be disappointed.

I think that's everything for now. The pool's warm enough to get in...I think I'll go do that.

One down...

Former Iraqui dictator Saddam Hussein was hanged for crimes against humanity this morning. Really his crimes weren't against humanity in general, just his own people, but whatever. He was one bad dude, and the irony of him dangling from his own gallows does not escape me, but I don't think execution was a fitting punishment. In his head he was fighting the jihad, so by his death he was automatically martyred and has gone straight to Paradise without passing Go or collecting $200. A better idea would be to call in Hammurabbi's laws here and dish up a heaping plate of the torture he served up to his people for so many years. Make him wish he were dead, but don't actually give up the goods or the 72 virgins. Or better yet, give him a sex change and force him to live as a woman in one of the Arabic nations. A slow painful death of body, mind and soul - yeah, that's more like it.

Will his death bring peace in the region? No. There will always be one more ready to step up and take the place of the last one. If anything, the violence will increase as they jockey for position. Violence has been a way of life there for a long time. It's going to take a helluva lot more than the death of one man to make a dent in it.

Bush and his cronies are no better. The war in Iraq is solely about the oil because 2/3 of Iraq's oil is still in the ground and Halliburton & the Bushies want it and aren't afraid to send our sons and daughters to slaughter to get it for them. You can bet your ass their kids aren't going over to play in the sandbox though. As such, the war also acts as a convenient smokescreen for the huge steaming pile of bullshit policy coming out of DC. Sure, they say they want "global freedom" - but they're the ones who get to dictate what that looks like - for everyone. Fuck you with a big sharp stick (and possibly the 3rd Infantry) if you want something different. This ain't Burger King and you don't get it your way. -But don't you dare voice your opinion about it because then you're un-American and a potential terrorist threat.

That said, fundamentalism in any form scares the shit out of me. Rabid Christians are just as bad as rabid Muslims in their "Life begins when you agree with me," mindset. Jesus and Muhammad were both great teachers who offered the world messages of hope and love that were bastardized by people who chose to espouse a narrow and twisted interpretation of their teachings. Seems to me that these folks need to find something more constructive to do with their time (underwater basketweaving, anyone?) instead of arguing over whose God is the bigger badass, rioting and blowing each other up. Then again, maybe we should just sit back, let them kill each other off & be thankful the collective herd has been culled.

Condemned Cartoon Carnival - Abstinence

This week: Abstinence
Abstain With Me, Baby


Abstinence is Murder!


Purity with Priscilla:


The Right Time to Make Love:


Your Virginity:


Bush's War on Sex:


Bill Maher Weighs In:


Walking-Only Drivers Ed:


WTF O_o:


Next week: Anybody's Guess

Calling all demons, poltergeists, minions and wraiths: You are hereby commanded by the fires of hell to submit your favorite videos from You Tube, MySpace, your crazy aunt Hattie's attic or wherever for inclusion in my regular feature "Condemned Cartoon Carnival." Wanna play? The rules are simple:

1) The video has to make me laugh - out loud.
b) Bonus points if it's wrong on so many levels that it leaves me in tears.

Although there are no sacred cows, there is one caveat: I am a tough customer, so your quest will not be an easy one.
The videos will be posted bright and skippy every Monday morning, to give everyone a twisted start to the week.

What do you get? Everlasting life via special shoutout in the blog and a link to your blog (if you have one).

Go ahead, submit. You know you want to. Just send your videos or links with your username and a link to your blog to:
condemnedcartooncarnival@gmail.com

tags technorati : Condemned Cartoon Carnival, funny

Just When You Think They're Not Listening...

As I may have mentioned, The Girl and I have an open communication policy, particularly when it comes to issues about relationships and sexuality. There are no sacred cows and no subject is taboo. Ever. I tell it like it is and don't candy-coat anything. She knows all the lines that people will use to get in her pants and the appropriate shut-downs she can use if she doesn't want them there. She knows that men are like buses and that if one bails on her, she can wait 15 minutes and another one will come along, but the next bus will have more money, a bigger dick and know how to treat her right. She also knows that she doesn't have to marry the first one she sleeps with or the first one who asks. At least that's what I've told her, among many, many other things. Sometimes though, I've wondered how much of that wisdom, mostly gleaned from my history of really fucked up decisions, has actually gotten in.

Until yesterday, that is. We were sitting at Sonic in a neighboring town around lunchtime, sunroof open, jamming to some hot tunes and throwing down some fish sammitches while they're still around for the folks who "do" Lent (- damned ol' "limited time only" bullshit), with tater tots and cherry limeade when she informs me that The Boyfriend has been telling her how much he loves her and wants to be with her forever and how he wants her to be his wife. (Insert sound effect of car tires squealing on pavement then crashing into something, here.)

Donning my very best poker face, and with bated breath I asked, "So, what do you think about all that?"

She replied, "I told him, 'Hey dude - slow down! I mean, I love you and all but I don't even know what my favorite color is, much less who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with.' Because, jeez mom that's just effin' scary. I mean, he's going into the military after graduation and I might not ever see him again and I just don't want to have to deal with all that shit right now."

Whew - and I thought she wasn't listening.

tags technorati : family, motherhood, teenagers, sex

How To Be a Republican Today

To be a Republican today you need to believe:

1. Jesus loves you and shares your hatred of homosexuals and Hillary Clinton.

2. Saddam was a good guy when Reagan armed him, a bad guy when Bush's Daddy made war on him, a good guy when Cheney did business with him, and a bad guy when Bush needed a "we-can't-find-Bin-Laden" diversion.

3. Trade with Cuba is wrong because the country is Communist, but trade with China and Viet Nam is vital to a spirit of international harmony.

4. The United States should get out of the United Nations, and our highest national priority is enforcing U.N. resolutions against Iraq .

5. A woman can't be trusted with decisions about her own body, but multinational drug corporations can make decisions affecting all mankind without regulation.

6. The best way to improve military morale is to praise the troops in speeches, while slashing veterans' benefits and combat pay.

7. If condoms are kept out of schools, adolescents won't have sex.

8. A good way to fight terrorism is to belittle our longtime allies, then demand their cooperation and money.

9. Providing health care to all Iraqis is sound policy, but providing health care to all Americans is socialism. HMO's and insurance companies have the best interests of the public at heart.

10. Global warming and tobacco's link to cancer are junk science, but creationism should be taught in schools.

11. A president lying about an extramarital affair is an impeachable offense, but a president lying to enlist support for a war in which thousands die is solid defense policy.

12. Government should limit itself to the powers named in the Constitution, which include banning gay marriages and censoring the Internet.

13. The public has a right to know about Hillary's cattle trades, but George Bush's driving record is none of our business.

14. Being a drug addict is a moral failing and a crime, unless you're a conservative radio host. Then it's an illness and you need our prayers for your recovery.

15. Supporting "Executive Privilege" in perpetuity for every Republican ever born, who will be born, or who might be born.

16. What Bill Clinton did in the 1960's is of vital national interest, but what Bush did in the '80's is irrelevant.

17. Support for hunters who shoot their friends and blame them for wearing orange vests similar to those worn by the quail.

18. Life begins when everyone agrees with you.

Truth is Stranger than Fiction

This weekend has breathed new meaning into the phrase, "Truth is stranger than fiction." To begin with, The Man had gotten lazy about some things and the situation was getting worse, despite my modeling the appropriate behaviors and giving gentle hints. I refuse to nag, but he was not responding in the appropriate manner to gentle attempts at correcting his behavior, so Friday morning I sat him down and discussed the problem with him in a very businesslike manner giving him graphic detail of my long-standing dissatisfaction. When I said my piece, he said (are you sitting down?), "You're right. I'm sorry," all in the same breath. Then he set about making it right and actually giving me more than what I asked. I'm still stunned.

If that wasn't weird enough, Saturday morning, The Girl came to me and told me of a good friend (16) who met a 19-20 year old Marine a few weeks ago. They had been text messaging and she said she was in love with him and was planning to sneak out of her house Valentine's weekend to go give him her virginity. Now I'm not the abstinence queen, nor have I ever preached abstinence before marriage et cetera, but The Girl was really freaked out - not necessarily because her friend was going to have sex, but that she's underage and the guy will probably bail as soon as he gets what he wants - and what if she gets pregnant? Then what? The Girl said she'd feel somewhat responsible if her friend got pregnant or worse and she knew all along what her friend was planning. "Besides," she said, "If somebody has to sneak off to do something, that's a really good sign that maybe they shouldn't be doing whatever they're sneaking off to do." I told her that if it was that important to her that maybe she should talk to the girl's parents. She said she didn't know how to do it and asked me if I would. I pointed out that she was running the risk of ruining their friendship, that her friend might not ever trust her again, and it could go all over the school that she's a snitch. Still, she was willing to take that risk in her friend's best interest because she didn't want her friend to get hurt.

So I got in touch with the mom. You know going into some conversations that whatever news you have to give is going to be so bad that the only way to tell it is to just tell it. Good thing that's part of what they teach you in shrink school. I'd hope that someone would be kind enough to give me a heads up if it were The Girl. I asked her to go easy on her daughter because we all know how slick guys can be and asked her not to tell that my daughter was the one to break confidence. I guess she didn't hear that part because it wasn't 20 minutes before The Girl was getting a slew of text messages saying, "I thought you were my friend, how could you do this?" et cetera. I have to hand it to her though. The Girl stuck to her guns and explained to her friend that a real friend wouldn't let her do something that stupid. This from a girl who says she never wants to go into psychology, haha.

When I asked if she'd heard from her friend this morning she said, "Oh she's not mad at me anymore. In fact she thanked me." Again, I'm stunned.

Oh, and over 5,000 visits already? Gee thanks y'all!

What. Ever.

Mingle²
Based on the presence of the following:
hell (30x) ass (5x) sex (2x).

Umm, excuse me? An NC-17 for that? Puh-leeeze. I don't get extra credit for all the assholes, fucks, shits and goddammits? What about vagina? What about all the talk of alcoholic beverages, bikers and keg stands? Huh? What about that? Why can't I get an X? Huh? HUH??!! Well hell.

I cast my pearls before swine. Honestly, why do I even bother?
*Deep Breath... Heavy Sigh*

Yeah - What Susie Said...

Have I mentioned that I simply adore this woman?

More about my favorite sex-positive heroine at Wikipedia.

Celebrating Curves

In my internet travels today I fell absolutely head over heels in love with Corinna Makris, blog goddess of
A Celebration of Curves, and proprietess of
This Lush Life. Do go by and visit her. You'll be glad you did.

My visits to her sites this morning started me thinking (ohh no! anything but that!). You see, the last couple of years have brought about a lot of changes in the way that I think about a lot of things, particularly how I view myself and my place in the world. I've realized that there's a pretty good chance I'm never going to be a size 6 again but you know what? It doesn't matter. I am perfectly happy with me just as I am - a little rounder but gorgeous...dead-sexy...and have I mentioned that my tits are fabulous? We're talking about the stuff of legends, here. But it's not the size of my brassiere or my voluptuous round ass that make me sexy. It's not what I choose to wear (or not) or who's coming on to me - and believe it or not they still come on to me - men and women. It's what's between my ears that makes it all happen. It's those neurons pumping 24/7. I'm smart, funny, engaging, a good listener and can hold a conversation about almost anything. Then there's the sexual self-confidence I carry from the breadth of my experiences. It's knowing that I possess the sexual knowledge and power to leave anyone weak and breathless, in a pool of their desire for nothing more than more of me because they can never get enough, even though there's a little more to go around than there used to be. Yeah baby, it've got it like that.

I'm not the only one not waiting around until I'm skinny again before I live my life to its fullest. Check out the confident, beautiful, smart and sexy Joy Nash (yeah, I would soo do her):

tags technorati : sex, self-confidence, This Lush Life, A Celebration of Curves, Joy Nash

Condemned Cartoon Carnival - Male Enhancement

Erectol XL:


fukuomouth:


ElfZyte:


Morningwood:


...and one I'm going to add to the sex talk for the kids in psyc2301 - From the Mythical Land of Cumalot - Wrap it up!



Next week: Breast Augmentation.

Calling all demons, poltergeists, minions and wraiths: You are hereby commanded by the fires of hell to submit your favorite videos from You Tube, your crazy aunt Hattie's attic or wherever for inclusion in my regular feature "Condemned Cartoon Carnival." Wanna play? The rules are simple:

1) The video has to make me laugh - out loud.
b) Bonus points if it's wrong on so many levels that it leaves me in tears.

Although there are no sacred cows, there is one caveat: I am a tough customer, so your quest will not be easy.
The videos will be posted bright and skippy every Monday morning, to give everyone a twisted start to the week.

What do you get? Everlasting life via special shoutout in the blog and a link to your blog (if you have one).

Go ahead, submit. You know you want to. Just send your videos or links with your username and a link to your blog to:
condemnedcartooncarnival@gmail.com

tags technorati : Condemned Cartoon Carnival, funny

Condemned Cartoon Carnival - Angry Kid

This week: Angry Kid - a special treat from the UK, submitted by our good blogger friend the famous (or is that infamous?) ghost hunter Romulus Crowe.

Phone Sex


I-Spy


Wanker


Butt Plug


Tourette's


Next week: Old People

Calling all demons, poltergeists, minions and wraiths: You are hereby commanded by the fires of hell to submit your favorite videos from You Tube, MySpace, your crazy aunt Hattie's attic or wherever for inclusion in my regular feature "Condemned Cartoon Carnival." Wanna play? The rules are simple:

1) The video has to make me laugh - out loud.
b) Bonus points if it's wrong on so many levels that it leaves me in tears.

Although there are no sacred cows, there is one caveat: I am a tough customer, so your quest will not be an easy one.
The videos will be posted bright and skippy every Monday morning, to give everyone a twisted start to the week.

What do you get? Everlasting life via special shoutout in the blog and a link to your blog (if you have one).

Go ahead, submit. You know you want to. Just send your videos or links with your username and a link to your blog to:
condemnedcartooncarnival@gmail.com

tags technorati : Condemned Cartoon Carnival, funny

What Do You Mean I Get Graded, Too?

So this morning in class the kids were doing their "major project" presentations and things were progressing swimmingly. I moved seats to get a better view of the presenters and what to my wondering eyes did appear sitting in one of the desks behind me, but my boss, the Chair of the Humanities Department of the college. How the hell he got in without my knowledge is beyond me. Apparently I underestimate the sneakiness.

This may come as some surprise but my language in class tends to be rather colorful. It's not uncommon for me to say "shit" or any of its derivatives at least a dozen times in our hour and a half time slot. Today however, the students were the teachers, not me. My role was try to engage the observers in asking questions of the presenters about their material. Given the uncivilized hour of our class that's hard to do. Unless, of course, we're talking about sex. Then I can't get them to shut up.

So I introduced Dr. Sneakiness to the class, and as he rose to leave he handed me a performance evaluation. He had been *GASP* grading me the entire time he was there - however long that was. Actually that's probably good because had I known he was there I don't know how I would have reacted. I'm just really glad I'm through lecturing and all that's left are project presentations and the final, which only about six students have to take.

Oh? The evaluation? Perfect marks all the way down the line. Good thing he didn't come last Tuesday for the social psych lecture I blasted through so we'd have time to review for the exam. I think I said shit 20 times and fuck at least once. I'd have definitely been dinged for professionalism...Man, was it my lucky day or what?

tags technorati : teaching, woohoo

Condemned Cartoon Carnival - Rednecks

This week: Rednecks
Redneck 911 Call


Red State Update: Ahmadinejad Hearts NY


Kin


Redneck Zombies


Thanksgiving


Redneck girls like real big weiners


Crudbucket Hills Showcase of Homes


Next week: Abstinence Only Sex Education

Calling all demons, poltergeists, minions and wraiths: You are hereby commanded by the fires of hell to submit your favorite videos from You Tube, MySpace, your crazy aunt Hattie's attic or wherever for inclusion in my regular feature "Condemned Cartoon Carnival." Wanna play? The rules are simple:

1) The video has to make me laugh - out loud.
b) Bonus points if it's wrong on so many levels that it leaves me in tears.

Although there are no sacred cows, there is one caveat: I am a tough customer, so your quest will not be an easy one.
The videos will be posted bright and skippy every Monday morning, to give everyone a twisted start to the week.

What do you get? Everlasting life via special shoutout in the blog and a link to your blog (if you have one).

Go ahead, submit. You know you want to. Just send your videos or links with your username and a link to your blog to:
condemnedcartooncarnival@gmail.com

tags technorati : Condemned Cartoon Carnival, funny

Despite Everything I Got Something Done

Hi y'all. Didja miss me? Well, lemme tell ya...since getting back from the band trip Saturday I've been busier'n a three-peckered billy goat. Saturday evening we had dinner with The Man's daughter at their new home around the corner from us along with several family members and close family friends. Sunday my mom came by to have me take some pictures of her for a new book she's having published. I've been trying to get the final exam ready to give the kids this morning and we had one of those killer Texas thunderstorms with 90-mile-an-hour straight line winds last night that downed a bunch of trees, including the one pictured above, which landed over my driveway, bent the pole fence out front and blocked the road. I drove The Man's demo out to the gate to take the picture and upon coming back down the driveway in reverse, I slid off the concrete and buried the truck up to its axle in the mud. I didn't take a picture of that. I think I muttered something under my breath that rhymed with truck...can't be sure. At any rate, The Man had to push me out of the mud with his big ol' tractor before he could use it to move the trees out of the road. You can imagine how happy he was with me. ;oD

During all this, our dinner (a really nice pot roast I'd had on the stove since 10:30 am, with smushed taters & brown mushroom gravy and steamed squash - all from fresh & from scratch -Slick would be proud..) was getting cold. Then, before we could even sit down to eat, our son-in-law brought the Grandtwins over for about an hour or so because the power was out at their house. They chattered throughout American Idol. Gr. It's the only show I watch and I was invested in Pinhead Chris' departure. Yeah, yeah, yeah, the crayon pictures with all the hearts and flowers and shit are great, but shut up already - jeez.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, I was supposed to make up a mock dataset and run and write up a mock curvilinear regression analysis so my consulting faculty will be happy with the knowledge that I understand curvilinearity before she goes on vacation tomorrow so I can move ahead with my dissertation. I'd planned to get it to her early yesterday evening but that didn't work out because of all the other crap going on. Without that, I can't officially move on until she gets back May 29, which, naturally, will put me in a huge bind if I'm going to have the draft of the last 2 chapters in within the next couple of weeks so I can graduate in July. Because you know - I can't shit without the committee's permission or without giving them a fully detailed description of its color, texture, aromatic and flotation qualities, et cetera. Of course, the storm knocked out both my internet and cell service, so even if by some miracle I had gotten it finished according to plan, I couldn't have sent it to her anyway. So I stayed up after everyone else went to bed (that's actually when I do my best, least distracted work) until around 1:30am and got it done. Interestingly, the internet tower beamer thingy reset itself about 15 minutes before I was finished so I was able to send it to her last night instead of waiting until this morning to try to send it from school. That was good because the internet service there is dodgy most of the time anyway.

So. I get up around 5am and toddle out the door this morning at 7 for my last day as a college professor. There were 6 students who had to take the final. Unfortunately, I had to bake in extra security measures because one student was ratted out for cheating on the last exam (I gave the ratter a couple of points extra credit to make sure she passed the course with an A). At any rate they were finished within 30 minutes and while I was there and had the classroom all to myself for another hour and a half, I went ahead and graded them, filled out the grade report, and turned it in at the administration building. As of 10am Central Hell Time, I am no longer a college professor - yippee!

I'm still waiting for feedback about the mock analysis from the consulting faculty so I didn't know what to do with the rest of the day. After some thought, I took a book about sex and sexuality that I'd bought donate to The Girl's high school library to the librarian (more on that another day) then came home, took a nap and as soon asI woke up, I sat down to let y'all know I haven't forgotten about you. It's just been crazy around here - and believe me - I know crazy - in the biblical sense.

Oh yeah - and I have poison ivy. Again. More on that later, too.

tags technorati : bitching, statistics, teaching, Texas, dissertation, American Idol,