Nice and hefty

This is kinda old news, but luckily it is also not real news (in the sense of like, no newspaper would run this, and even the Onion would be like “This is not very satirical Mae, we’re going to go with ‘Guy Drools All Over His Burger Because Life Has No Meaning’” instead). So it is not a real problem. I really fucked up the logical flow of this paragraph so I’m going to start another paragraph now, and it will be my actual story instead of this little windup thing.

One time I was sitting outside a restaurant with my friend, pretty bored and also (as I will reveal again in this same sentence) kind of sexually frustrated, and I was like, “Man, friend, I just want to make out with someone. It doesn’t really matter who. I would make out with that horse.”

Because right then one of there was one of those horse and carriages going by. Also, I call all my friends “friend.” It’s like how Quakers call each other “Oats.”

So my friend looks up (GRAVELY) at this horse clopping down the street and then she looks at me and she goes, “Yeah, that makes sense. You both have big teeth.”

She was not wrong. But the horse was kind of gone by that point and if the horse had approached me, maybe I would have gone for it, but I wasn’t going to really pursue the horse. I hear the horse was kind of a douche anyway. A good horse does not kiss and neigh. Or kiss and hoove. Or kiss and ponytail. (What is the horse equivalent of kiss and tell? Why can’t I stop talking? THE END. THE END.)

Fuckin you whether times are good or bad, happy or sad!

The other day I was explaining radio censorship to my dad. We were listening to the top 40 radio station (because  my dad an I only listen to XTREME CLUB ANTHEMS) (because we are XTREMELY RELATED) and it was playing that Enrique song, “Tonight (I’m Lovin’ You).”

SIDE NOTE: I love the parentheses in that song title. I literally could look at them all day while smiling lovingly. The only way the title could be better is if it was “(Tonight) I’m (Lovin’ You)” or maybe “(Tonight I’m)(Lovin’ You)” and then you would have to use the FOIL method to talk about the song at all.

We’re listening to this song and my dad’s like, “This song is kind of… shrill,” and I was like, “Also, fun fact: it’s actually called ‘Tonight I’m Fuckin’ You.’ This is the radio edit.”

My dad, being old, is shocked and like, wonders if this has something to do with Twitter. Which is what old people wonder about everything. They see a cloud in the sky and they are like, “It is there because of Twitter.”

So later that day we’re driving back from wherever we were driving to, and that Nelly song “Just A Dream” is on the radio. And we’re listening to the part where Nelly’s telling you to put your hands up if you’ve ever loved somebody, and suddenly my dad (as if waking from a long sleep! Which is weird because he was driving and being asleep while you drive is party foul numero uno!) goes:

“But he’s really saying ‘If you’ve ever fucked somebody put your hands up.’ Right?”

Which is not right, but I bet someone makes a song that says that soon. People like putting their hands up, people like profanity… it seems like a hit waiting to happen! Or multiple hits waiting to happen! Once “If you’ve ever fucked somebody put your hands up” drops, it’s only a matter of time before “If you’ve ever shat somewhere put your hands up.”  And THEN it’s only a matter of time before insta-classic of 2016, “If you’ve ever ass put your hands up.”

It’s sort of like consulting…

I just finished writing this story for my fiction class, and somehow it had all these sex scenes in it. Or at least, foreplay scenes. And here is what I have learned: Writing sex scenes is hard. Difficult things include:

1) Getting them workshopped. This was especially hard in my current fiction class, because you are not allowed to speak while the class discusses your story. So if someone had said, “Mae seems like a pervert,” I would have just had to sit there like a mute while everyone shook their heads sadly. Not that that happened. On the other hand, no one was like, “Mae really doesn’t seem like a pervert.”

2)  Actually writing them. There are a lot of words I want to exist that just aren’t in the English language. For example, if you want to talk about a penis, “penis” is pretty clinical; “dick” is pretty British street urchin-y, and also the name of my childhood piano teacher; “wang” just makes you sound like a wang (the boomerang of penis vocabulary!)… etc. I went with dick but didn’t feel great about it.

3) Related to (2), but there are also a bunch of words you can’t use because of romance novels, like “ravish” and “throbbing” and “member” (ughhhhh it makes me never want to join a club again… because then I will be a member! Badum chhhhh) and “yearn.” No one should yearn for a ravishing member to throb over to their house. You know? But then it’s like Fabio stole half your vocabulary. (In India, one of the beach shacks had a lot of romance novels, and I read one called The Billionaire’s Step-Daughter’s Love Child’s Lover. Or something. That is why I know about this. Also, I read Twilight, although that was more a “liquid eyes”/”bronze hair”/”no sex” situation.)

4) My parents are really supportive about how I like to write, so they asked to see my story. And I was like, “Well… no” and they were like, “Why? It’s okay if it’s bad… we’ve read a lot of other bad stuff you’ve written.” (Which they really have.)

So then I had to be like, “You know how all my friends got consulting jobs? Well, I’m sort of like them. Except instead of doing consulting for money, I write porn. For free.”

Thought of the Day + Related Activity

THOUGHT

Today I was listening to this Childish Gambino song where he says, among other things, that girls chase him like they think his dick is Justin Bieber.

Is it bad that if Donald Glover’s dick was actually Justin Bieber, I would be really into that?

ACTIVITY

In other Childish Gambino news, I accidentally found a website that “explains” rap lyrics. Here is the entry for “Do Ya Like.” (Click on a line and an explanation pops up in a little cloud.) Excerpt from a literally amazing interactive experience:

LYRIC: Girls in the lobby, tryin’ to meet me.

RAPGENIUS CLOUD EXPLANATION: There are always girls in the lobby trying to meet him.

For years, I have waited for someone to explain what “tryin’” means to me. Apparently it means “trying”!!!!

It’s funny how hot you are…

Sometimes, when people laugh, it is not because something is funny. I am currently observing this in one of my classes, where we are talking about serious issues and this one kid just CANNOT NOT CHORTLE. He chortles throughout class. You say “chicken dinner” to this guy and he cracks up. Like an egg. Laid by the chicken that is for dinner. WHABAM full circle. Or full oval. Like an egg… Okay, I’m stopping. I don’t know what what I just did is called but it won’t happen again.

This kid makes me think, though, about reasons people laugh besides because something is actually funny. I made a list.

REASON 1: To suck up. This is called “being a sycophant.” You laugh at anything someone with power over you says that could be construed, or even MISconstrued, as a joke, because you know it will help you not get fired. I used to do this with an old boss who made a lot of jokes that involved comedy dancing. He really put his ass into his comedy dancing. He was bald. Let’s never speak of this again.

REASON 2: Because the person talking is hot. Nice abs can turn (and HAVE TURNED) an earnest comment about cats into insightful satire about the human condition.

REASON 3: To seem worldly. This is why teenagers will laugh at every possible blowjob joke, even jokes that are like, “Guess what I found in my backpack today? A blowjob!” At a certain point, you get old enough that blowjobs no longer seem like a “worldly” thing to talk about. Then it is jokes about like, current events you should be up on but aren’t, or jokes about doing your taxes because your parents still do yours… but shhhh!

REASON 4: Because you don’t know what else to do. This is why when someone says something to you like, “When I was a kid, I killed my gerbil,” you will probably laugh. You don’t want to yell at them or anything, you guys are just making small talk at a party, this isn’t like The Time, but at the same time you have to do something because WTF ARE YOU VOLDEMORT?!?!?!  Gerbils are innocent creatures. They just want to eat yogurt treats. In this way, they are not so different from humans.

Consider the GF

I just read “Consider the Lobster,” this article thing David Foster Wallace wrote about the Maine Lobster Festival. It basically starts with him and his parents and girlfriend at this festival, eating their lobster, and it ends with these really intense ethical questions about whether it’s moral to boil lobsters alive. Maybe they can feel pain! They try to climb out of the pot when you boil them! But then, what does “pain” really mean? What does “pot” really mean? What is the True Nature of Suffering?

It’s sort of not supposed to be funny–I mean, maybe sporadically, but I doubt he’d be thrilled if you texted him like, “Hey man, read your lobster thang. LOL!”–but I couldn’t stop laughing because I kept thinking about how weird it probably was for his girlfriend to read. Or maybe how weird it would be for me if I went on a date with a dude to a lobster festival and then he wrote “Consider the Lobster” (because DFDub’s GF was probably used to him).

Think about it! You go to a lobster festival with your boo. He’s writing an article about it, but for you it’s just a vacation. So you eat a bunch of lobster. You stroll around. The sun is shining. The birds are chirping. The lobsters are dying in droves, but that’s probably not your main focus. You hang out on the beach. You’re with his parents, which maybe is a big deal. You leave thinking you all had a nice, relaxing time.

Then a couple weeks later, you read the article he wrote about your vacay, which includes the sentence “There happen to be two main criteria that most ethicists agree on for determining whether a living creature has the capacity to suffer and so has genuine interests that it may or may not be our moral duty to consider.”

And you’re like, my god! I thought me and Dave had a good time at the lobster festival!

Things are happening to Kanye’s body!!!

Most people don’t do enough weird stuff to their body for me to write a blog post about what they have done, but Kanye West has outdone every single one of his fellow men. His body is all up in the news, for crazy reasons! And I need to talk about it! Right now!

1) Kanye West had his bottom teeth removed (REMOVED) and replaced (REPLACED) with diamonds (DIAMONDS). REMOVED REPLACED DIAMONDS. Think about how much that would hurt. Think about how much value those diamonds will lose if he does not floss (in the dental way) (this is the most profound example of non-dental flossing ever) (in fact it shows the intersectionality of the two kinds of flossing, as it were).

I hate college, it makes you talk like a dick.

2) SPEAKING OF DICK, I saw Kanye’s. You can too. Dear men: I don’t know if you’re up on this, but decontextualized dicks are not hot. You should not send  a picture of your dick to a nice girl you like. She will just think you don’t understand human sexuality and then maybe leak the picture on the internet. She might even post it on Dickipedia (a website I just accidentally found and left).

Also, there is literally nothing more self-absorbed than sitting at home, alone, taking pictures of your penis. It is almost unforgivably self-absorbed. Except not quite, in Kanye’s case, because think about it–if I married him, my name would be MAE WEST. It would be so fly!

Yours

So, no shame – I like Taylor Swift. I find her endearing. Everything she thinks about love, dudes, high school, and that’s pretty much all she thinks about so there’s the end of that list!, comes from 17th century Rome, but no worries. 17th century Rome was cool. I don’t think they had high schools in the conventional sense but luckily, this is not a history test.

Anyway, Taylor has a new video, and it is this:

The song is catchy, and I have listened to it somewhere between zero and 150 times (we don’t need to get into that… ever), but I have two comments about this video.

1) I highly doubt Taylor Swift would date a guy with a tattoo, unless maybe it said “PRINCESSES ROCK.” And even then, it would have to be in a nice wholesome font, like Comic Sans. Or whatever font she wants on her wedding invites (you KNOW she has picked a font).

2) Okay, Taylor, I get that you are into monogamy and commitment and calling your boyfriend a “thing” that has ever been yours. I respect that (except the “thing” thing). But GOOD GOD, is there a dude/any-gendered person who isn’t creeped out by you? A girl who prints a shit-ton of couple-y pictures and then hangs them from trees, creating a commitment shrine that is also a forest?  A forest that she then waltzes through, singing a song that just happens to be about POSSESSIVE LOVE?!?!?!

Dog. Let’s take it down a notch.

I found love and now I would like to get rid of it

Everyone always says that you can’t go out and find love – love finds YOU. And by everyone, I mean everyone in movies based on books by Nicholas Sparks.  But guess what? It turns out these people are RIGHT. I would never have expected to find love where I have found it, but then it just showed up in my life and it feels great. Actually, it feels creepy and I would like to end this ASAP. It turns out I am in love with the photocopier at my work. I am at least getting really emotionally attached to it.

First, I found out it could send EMAILS. You scan something, and the photocopier (seemingly not a sentient being except wait IT ACTUALLY IS) will e-mail you a .pdf of the document. How many of your friends can do that kind of thing for you? NONE. Try sticking a document in your friend’s mouth – they will probably not even produce the most basic, one sided photocopy, let alone e-mail any kind of FILE.  When I found out about the .pdf e-mailing function I screamed piercingly in my place of work. With joy.

Then, I had to make a lottttt of photocopies this week, and the speed of the photocopier became extremely correlated with my mood. When it was jamming a lot, I began to wonder if life had any meaning at all.  When it was fast, I was listening to the Ying Yang Twins on my iPod and (subtly) dancing in the copy room.  When it was medium fast, I was bored but life seemed like, 75-80% meaningful.

And then, yesterday, the copy machine BROKE. It jammed so profoundly we had to take part of it out and poke around in it with like, tweezers. Half the office became involved. I felt like I was in some sort of reality show where you could win millions of dollars if you feigned interest in the state of the copier, but my interest was not feigned. It was REAL. I was in a serious funk for the rest of the day. Even after the copier was fixed, I was upset that it had once been broken.

It is really too much emotional involvement. Thank god it is now the weekend and me and the copier are on a break. I need some me time. To think about what I want, instead of always what the copier wants, you know?

Porntastic

I don’t usually post things that are arguably porn, but this is so funny and lame I can’t help it.

Look at Trey Songz, maybe wearing a turtleneck!  Look at both of them, not knowing that there is already a term for the phenomenon they are discussing, and that it is “bedroom”! Also, check out how many rooms are featured in this music video – more like welcome to my sex ROOMS, am I right?

And then the lyrics are just incredible.  I am going to get a tattoo of them (hopefully on somebody else’s body, though).  My favorite parts are when Luda namechecks Allstate (SO STREET) and when he says “You might lose four or five pounds.”  Does he have a liposuction machine in his sex room? Also, when he romantically describes some girl’s lips as “soft as cotton,” I began to wonder if Ludacris has ever felt a human lip before.  I mean, you’d think he’d at least have felt his own lips over his thirty something years of living… but PERHAPS NOT.

Final thought: The object of interest in this song is clearly not the ladies.  Just go have sex with your sex room already, guys.