Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Overheard in the Holler

Dan: Did you fart?

Michael: (nods)

Dan: That's good. I was afraid you'd crapped your pants.

Overheard by: Jack Dumpsey

Come On Get Hoppé

Westminster Underground Station, London, 1937
(E.O. Hoppé)

More of his work here.

From Riley.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Today's Top Stories

From Riley and Karen.

Home Is Where the Hard-on Is

My favorite remains that of a friend's neighbor: Sweatpants Boner.

From Derek.
How many baboons could you take in a fight? (armed only with a giant dildo)

Created by Oatmeal

The Late Show

Recent favorites from Sleep Talkin' Man:
"That's what I like about you. You're a reliable disappointment."

"I am simply far too busy being passive aggressive to give a shit about you."

"I'm tired of looking for the solution to this problem. Look for someone to blame instead."

"There's a reason you're such an arsehole. You just don't have to keep telling everybody about it. People will work it out for themselves pretty quickly."

"There are times when drinking the contents of the stomach of a ten-day-old corpse is a good idea. After hanging out with you, this is one of those times. Cock off!"

"How do blind people know they're done wiping? How?"
“Sorry, ladies, you must be this tall to ride this ride … and a boy.”

gay captions

Wednesday, August 03, 2011

Today's Top Story

From Clark.

'I Am the Mustache King'


Dig It

"Oh, that is so f*@%ing heinous."

Too Close for Comfort

On her way to a party the other day, a friend dashed into Barnes & Noble to buy a particular title. She was accompanied by her mother, whose focus was elsewhere:
As we entered B&N, a woman at the front of the store was providing information on Nooks. I quickly walked past her, knowing the book would be among the new releases, while my mother approached the Nook woman and asked for help finding the book.

"I've got it!" I called across the aisle.

I then began walking to the cash register. My mother again began walking toward the Nook lady, who informed her that she couldn't actually ring up books. "You have to pay over there," she said.

For reasons I still can't comprehend, my mother gave a low, throaty laugh, and said, "Oh, but we're attracted to YOU."

Great. The Nook lady thinks my mother is hitting on her, I thought.

I moved briskly to the cash register while my mother continued to chat up the Nook lady, who was 40 years her junior. I hastily collected my bag of books and my mother, then it hit me: The Nook lady probably thought my mother and I were a lesbian couple.

Is there anything worse than being mistaken as having a lesbian relationship with your own mother?

Yes, I realized a split-second later. Yes, there is.

In her odd attempt at humor, my mother had told the Nook lady "WE'RE attracted to you." So the Nook lady probably assumed my mother and I were a lesbian swinging couple.

Did I mention I drank A LOT at the party?

Another friend replied:
OK, *I* find your mom really entertaining.

My friend Christy and I went on a Disney Cruise together a few years ago, shortly after [my husband] died, with our twins (all ten years old) but without her husband. You get one waiter for the whole cruise, and he came over and introduced himself the first night, then expressed his amazement that we had four ten-year-olds at the table. Just as I was thinking "I wonder if he thinks we're a lesbian couple with quads," Christy nervously blurted out, "They're friends, but they're not all related!" and then she burst forth with some complete non-sequitur like "My husband couldn't come on this trip, but he really, really likes the Caribbean!"

After the waiter left, Christy looked even more chagrined, then said to me, "I hope you didn't feel insulted. If I were going to be a lesbian, I wouldn't want to be a lesbian with anyone but you."

All in the Family

Source, via Peggy

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Five and Ten

Fifteen years ago today, I met the man of my dreams. And though the expression is a cliché, the experience has been anything but.

I sensed right away that he was different, and by the time we were halfway through our first date, I was thoroughly hooked. Not only was he nice to look at, he was smart, funny, thoughtful, sensitive, engaging, and playful—practically a custom order from the Man Store. The appeal of those qualities is even stronger today. There’s no one I’d rather be with.

Let’s be honest: it takes a special person to put up with me day in and day out. Throw in a progressively debilitating disease—in the first year!—and the odds get even slimmer. I marvel regularly at the good fortune of having someone who’s a partner in every sense of the term, at my side on sunny days and dark ones, through epic highs and lows and the rolling terrain of ordinary life, making the bad moments bearable, the dull ones fun, and the great ones even sweeter. I can’t imagine the experience without him, and I’m grateful every day.

Happy anniversary, Dan. I love you.

Photo by Marty.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Today's Top Stories

From Eugene and Peggy.

Word of the Day


From Riley.

Foreign Relations

A friend reports:
At 5 p.m. tonight, I found myself in Kramerbooks in D.C. with a woman claiming to be my 2nd cousin. She and her husband and their four children were visiting D.C. from Michigan, and they were very aggressive about seeking a meeting, despite the fact that we'd never communicated.... I fended off their requests to meet at my home, suspecting they'd be more difficult to extract than six wisdom teeth, and suggested the Kramerbooks meeting. I'm pretty sure they wanted to stay with us, as they mentioned a number of times that they were having difficulty finding a hotel.

As I was driving to Kramerbooks, I received a text: "We're here! We're all wearing bright green t-shirts"

Displaying inner strength even I didn't know I had, I kept driving.

I arrived at Kramerbooks and told the tattooed, pierced waiter that I was meeting a group in the cafe. He sneered and waved me in the direction of their table. They were all blonde, hearty, and indeed wearing bright green t-shirts, including their 2-year-old daughter. What they'd neglected to mention was that these were custom t-shirts. The front said, in huge black letters: OBAMA. ONE TERM. The back read: HOPE... FOR A CHANGE!

I choked down a glass of wine rapidly while they drank six identical milkshakes. Then [my husband] arrived. He couldn't contain his laughter when he saw the shirts. He promptly began urging the family to spend a lot of time walking around Dupont Circle that evening, if they wanted a "real D.C. experience," saying that it was a much more lively, interesting place than the typical tourist attractions. The sadist.

My cousin then asked me if we had met the president "or the former president, as I like to call him," she giggled.

"Yes," I responded. "My brother-in-law worked on the transition and we went to one of the balls."

Dead silence.

She then asked about my older brother.

"Oh, [he's] doing great," I said, happy to change the subject. "He's married to a wonderful woman. She's from Pakistan, and they're living in Japan now."

"Is she.... Japanese?" my cousin asked hopefully.

"No," I said. "She's Pakistani."

"I see," she said, taking a restorative sip of milkshake. "It all sounds so.... exotic!"

As we left Kramerbooks, [my husband] swept me up in a joyous hug. He had previously complained about having to go. "It was so worth it!" he gushed, as we watched our relatives head out to experience a "real D.C." night.

The Wisdom of Forrest Gimp

As the shell is to the snail or the turtle, as the RV is
to the retiree, so my wheelchair is to me.

Off Time

From Derek.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Word of the Day


Sedaris in China

I'm used to standard butchering: here's the leg, the breast, etc. At the Farming Family Happiness, rather than being carved, the rooster was senselessly hacked, as if by a blind person, a really angry one with a thing against birds. Portions were reduced to shards, mostly bone, with maybe a scrap of meat attached. These were then combined with cabbage and some kind of hot sauce.
From Derek.

Simper Fi

A double feature from Randall:

"How does he do it?"

"Oh, look! It's military candy time!"

The Wisdom of Forrest Gimp

The worst part is the inability
to reach down and pet my dogs.

Source, by way of Mary

Monday, July 11, 2011

Skunk & White


noun. Mental dullness or sluggishness.

Had she been elected, Sarah Palin’s hebetude would have made Bush look like a fucking Rhodes scholar.

How could this delicious site be around for nearly two years without my knowledge? There's even a book: The Elements of F*cking Style.

From Peggy.

'It's Magical'

"This fruit helps prove that animals are just like us."

The latest from Randall.

Blame Greg Louganis

A friend recently shared a revelation by her 12-year-old son:
[He] just realized today that the back somersault performed off the diving board at the pool by the older boys is called a "gainer," not a "gay nerd." "I wondered why they called it that," he said.

(I have been prohibited from posting this on Facebook, but I had to tell someone.)

Sour Note

Friday, July 01, 2011

Today's Top Story

Sexy Times

From a friend:
Today, my parents were over when my wonderful nanny, who is from the Philippines, came to watch my son. My nanny began exclaiming over how cute my son D is, saying, "If I had a baby, he'd look just like D!"

My mother then said, "Well, why not? If Arnold Schwarzenegger's nanny can have one, then you should be able to, too."

My nanny and I froze as we realized my mother was encouraging my nanny to have sex with my husband. My mother emitted a loud shriek-cackle. I quickly changed the subject.

Later she added:
The funny thing is, my nanny uses the term "sexy" a lot, in an innocuous way. Like, when D is running around naked, she'll yell, "Oh, sexy butt!" Recently she told [my husband] he looked so "slim and sexy!" She kept talking about it, repeating that [he] looked sexy. He finally ran upstairs and whispered, "I'm being sexually harassed by our babysitter."

I don't think I'll tell him about this.

What's Happening!!

From Roman.

The Late Show

Recent favorites from Sleep Talkin' Man:
"I'm no doctor, but I swear it's bacterial vaginosis. Your crotch smells like onion soup. Next, please!"

"This is a totally sparkly tiara moment!"

"I'm not waving at you. I'm just building up for the big fucking slap you're gonna get."

"History is exciting! There's sex and explosions."

"So, you want a super massivo decaf low-fat stupido motherfuck cappu-fucking-ccino? Okay. Coming right up, cunt."

"I would gargle contents of the arseholes of the recently dead than go out with you. It's not a hard choice really."

"No, life isn't unfair. You were just born stupid."

"Who do you think you are, coming in here with your pink blancmange. You and your classy ways."

"I speak the truth. I am the superhero of words. Sentences are my weapons. I'll fuck you up with my oral armor."

"I'm bored. Let's go and trip some old people."

Tuna Surprise

Remember this guy? He's at it again:

No condoments?

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Today's Top Story

"Awash in hairballs, I gathered a bowlful and placed them on top of the piano. Surprisingly, the balls had a lovely appearance that reminded me of oversized white pearls. This was my inspiration for using Gaia's 'toys' in a way that would display my love for this special cat."
From Laurie.
Yesterday’s fear is
Today’s stark reality:
A white hair. Down there.

Heads Will Turn


From Riley.

Kid You Not

I had the following exchange the other day:
Friend No. 1: Did I ever tell you about the list of Toys Nobody Would Buy that the kids and I came up with? We had Tickle Me Hitler and My Little Mussolini.

Friend No. 2: I love it! My kids came up with one for babies, called Baby's First Pincher. They laughed sadistically and pinched each other while making up commercials.

Friend No. 3: Baby's First Hitler would have been better.

Friend No. 1: Well, of course -- I'll never forget my first Hitler.

Friend No. 3: My First Crack Pipe.

Friend No. 1: Ha ha ha ha!

Me: My First Switchblade. My First Chainsaw. My First Speculum. My First Butt Plug. My First Meth Lab. My First Rape Van. My First Taser. My First Chest Freezer.


Friend No. 2: The chest freezer took me a while. I thought it was a sexual thing at first.... But is it for hiding body parts? If so, that's my favorite.


From Kristine.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Overheard in the Holler

Dan: You used to be an exhibitionist.

Michael: I used to be attractive.

Overheard by: Jumpin' Jack Flash
… another brunch ruined by Rodney’s talk of butt plugs.

gay captions

Friday, June 17, 2011

Noteworthy Names

For Beau, who delighted in them.

Penny Nail
Kip Fagg
Skip Alley
Melvina Fish
Cameo Smoot
Maybelle Chitty
Hilda Mae Snoops
Trashard Bridgett
Otto Junkermann
Cletus Junk
Dutch Funk
Elmer Bonk
Beau Bumpas
Yolanda Squatpump
Martin Putzhammer
Mark Anthony Dingbaum
Princessikea Washington
Ducky Loveless
Brindle Swann
Covert Beach
Modest Outlaw
Kitty Stalker
Will Chase
Furland Husky
Ginger Head
Shirley Virgin
Hope Settles
Hans Graber
Tiffany and Crystal Thrower (sisters)
Charger Stone
Dreama Walker
Sky Prince
Rose Guy
Randy Pope
Jason Daters
Virginia Beavers
Jerzee Angel
Fleece McQueen
Nettie Weber
Irene Peace
Paris French
Argon Steel
Dale Hill
Grace Goon
Jay Day
Gene Queen
Greg Craig
Jing and Ying Ming (siblings)
Kitty Whitty
Kerry Carey
Penny Penn
Kimberly Kim
Robert Robertie
George P. George
Anita Nutt
Harry Baals
Sandi Hyman
Peter Thorn
Peter Beard
Peter Hunt
Gay Lust
Bob Goodwillie
Jack Boner
Dick Swing
Dick Super
Dick Fitzhugh
Dick Speight
Susan Lower Dicks
Karen Shwab Cox
Muffin Johnson
Phil Pfister
Seymour Colen
Seymour Weiner
Friend A. Hoar

Elizabeth Tudor
George L. Washington
Ethelene Kennedy
Scott Randolph
Cary Cooper
Shirley D. Booth
Dr. Doris Day
Linda Blair
Stephanie Power
Sean Cassidy
Patty Page
Daryl Hall
Jess Jackson
Kenneth J. Cole
Dr. Feffer
George Jepsen
Mary Virgin

L. Allen Korn, podiatrist
Patrick English, Englishman
Matt Hissey, gay Republican
Hubert Blackman, black man
Savanna Steed, rodeo queen
Sean Bumgarner, homosexual
Joseph W. Husband, husband
Troy Dangerfield, police officer
Humpy Wheeler, NASCAR official
Krystal Ball, Democratic strategist
Robin Mahfood, CEO, Food for the Poor
Beverly Perfect, personal trainer and life coach
Rev. Grant Storms, "Christian patriot" and protester, arrested for public masturbation

Rev. Dr. Tyrone Petty
Rev. Dr. James Mook
Maryann Sumi, judge
Filet Minyon, Marketing Executive, Mission Possible "Debt-free Living"

Thanks to everyone who contributed.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Beau Idéal

I lost an old friend the other day, one of the kindest, sweetest people I've ever known. He'd been jousting with leukemia for three and a half years, and when it charged back this spring, the doctors had little left to offer.

Beau was one of the first people I met in college, where we lived in the same dorm suite my freshman year, his senior. I knew within days that I was going to like it there, and he was one of the reasons why. Our suite had an unusual makeup: three seniors, a junior, and four freshmen. Some upperclassmen might have ignored or humiliated the tiresome neophytes, but Beau and the others took the opposite approach, befriending us and showing us the ropes. Beau even helped me out of a tight spot on one occasion, extracting me with great difficulty from my muddy riding boots, which had become fused to my feet. The task wasn't made any easier by the fits of laughter that erupted after the first few comical minutes of tugging and contortions.

Beau went on to become a professor of English literature, something he was probably born to do. He fell in love with a handsome doctor, Brian, and they settled in Philadelphia, living a fairly charmed existence until cancer reared its ugly and unwelcome head.

Although I'd only seen Beau once since college -- and many years ago at that -- I felt as close to him as ever, thanks to the Internet and the shared experience of coping with serious illness. As they trudged the rocky path of treatment, Brian kept everyone apprised with updates, an invaluable gift to those of us far away. Through multiple rounds of chemo, a bone marrow transplant, and the inevitable complications, I found myself clinging to each positive development even though -- or perhaps because -- Beau had confided privately that the odds were very poor. When Brian told us they'd entered the final stretch, I was prepared intellectually if not emotionally.

Not surprisingly, Beau set as worthy an example at the end of his life as he had throughout, facing illness and even death with the quiet grace that was his hallmark. I feel privileged to have been his friend.

Photo courtesy B. Meyer

Monday, June 06, 2011

Today's Top Story

Overheard in the Holler

After awakening to a ghastly tableau yesterday morning ...

Dan: I can't believe such a little dog could contain so much shit.

Overheard by: J. Robert Poopenheimer

Source, via HoHo

Conn. Job

A cheerful report from the irrepressible Kay:
Imagine my excitement as I was strolling down the street in New Canaan going to CVS to get prescription for a lovely case of pink eye - goopy, stuck together eyelashes and general itch - and I saw four young Mormon missionaries doing their thing in front of Starbucks. Not exactly a likely spot for them since people who are at Starbucks are hardly likely to give up caffeine and wear funny underwear. I just saw the Book of Mormon - the South Park guys musical about young missionaries in Uganda - so I was primed and ready to be approached. I told them of my excitement at seeing the temple in NY before it was sealed to non-believers, my love of Big Love and all the crazy extremist polygamists who run away and write books about their horrific experiences and my fascination with the concept of sister wives. After I finished with my love of Mormon funeral potatoes and the concept of holy garments they were backing away in horror and looking for another target to convert. I then went into Starbucks, got a venti and lit up a cigarette and watched them approach others. And by the time that fun was over my prescription was ready. A perfect morning.

Slap Happy

Thanks to Peggy and Riley.

Wednesday, June 01, 2011

Word of the Day


Caveat Empty

'Quick, It's Time to Change!'

Randall, it seems, has many pots on the stove ...

Just Kidding

A recent Facebook thread began with this post:
My friend, writing about his son: "Yesterday he went tearing through the women's undergarment section of Target shouting 'boobies!'"
Among the responses:
True story: a couple weeks ago some friends brought over their sweet autistic kid after her First Communion for a pool party. [When] I took off my shirt the little girl looked directly at my chest and screamed "boobies". One can only smile and dive into the pool immediately.

[Our daughter] always yells "look at all the boobs" at any store there is a bra display. The bad parents we are think this is quite hilarious and make no effort to correct her. We just laugh.

I remember being a little kid in a store, and asking my mother like ten thousand times what the red rubber thing was. She finally said, "It's a douchebag. Now you know everything."

If only that had been the last douche bag you had ever met.

My son had a world class temper tantrum in Target when I wouldn't buy him the Hello Kitty handbag.

When I went shopping with my mom I would pinch all the bras and shout "Honk!"

I once went to visit our nanny when she babysat for another family. Their daughter, age two, ran up and presented me with a photo of her slightly overweight father in a bathing suit. She pointed at his chest in the photo and yelled "Daddy's boobies!"

A Touching Parable

Friday, May 27, 2011

Today's Top Story

... Mrs. Clark lived in the apartment in near solitude, amid a profusion of dollhouses and their occupants. She ate austere lunches of crackers and sardines and watched television, most avidly “The Flintstones.” A housekeeper kept the dolls’ dresses impeccably ironed.
More here. Lots more.

Thanks to Dan, Bruce, Bob, and Riley.


"Work out, rump roast, sailor moon, hairy ghost ..."

People Of Walmart Song

From Laura.

Tuna on Wry

Good stuff.

From Terry.

A Lear-y Glance

Phattfacia Stupenda

From Peggy.

Monday, May 23, 2011

The Wisdom of Forrest Gimp

I’m grateful to be alive so many years after diagnosis,
but also a little annoyed.

Roger That

"If I were in this condition at any point before a few cosmological instants ago, I would be as isolated as a hermit. I would be trapped inside my head. Because of the rush of human knowledge, because of the digital revolution, I have a voice and I do not need to scream."

From Julia.

Friday, May 20, 2011

Today's Top Story

What this odd story reveals is that the ancient anatomists were major dickheads. We all were, back then.
From Cyle.

Tongues Will Wag

An SNL classic.

From Kris and Laurie.

Just Say Noa

The Bloggess is aptly titled, for she is a goddess among bloggers. So when she posted this endorsement, I was quick to check it out:
My deliriously irreverent friend, Noa, supports my xanax addiction and has taught me everything I know about creative profanity. I heartily recommend. Go read her front page you will be instantly hooked and/or terribly offended. Either way, you’re entertained.
This is a great place to start. But empty your bladder first.
"You didn't get a good deal, you were just fucked gently. Trust me, Best Buy will not be the one with the
sore asshole tomorrow."
Shit My Dad Says

Monday, May 16, 2011

Today's Top Story

In the medical literature, the vocal “cord” is a mere “fold,” a piece of gristle that strives to reach out and touch its twin, thus producing the possibility of sound effects. But I feel that there must be a deep relationship with the word “chord”: the resonant vibration that can stir memory, produce music, evoke love, bring tears, move crowds to pity and mobs to passion.
From Peggy.

Word of the Day


'Context, Convention, and Circumstance'

"For me, it is a cause of some upset
that more Anglophones don't enjoy language."


Carp Diem

I think the Angela Lansbury one might be my favorite.
A road junction at the Elephant and Castle, south London, June 1912.
(Topical Press Agency/Getty Images)

From Riley.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Today's Top Story

[O]nce the turkey vulture has emptied out the contents of its vile gut, it waddles its fat ass away while the predator snarfs down the big steaming pile of puke. Good job, turkey vulture; crisis averted. This is why you have no friends.

From Joan.

Northern Exposure

I was recently turned on to Scott Free, a podcast by Scott Thompson, one of the Kids in the Hall. It's wacky, zany, unpredictable. A bawdy half-hour visit with your best gays. Your best Canadian gays.

Thanks to Terry.

'Oh, Shut Up!'

What's going on here?

From Sean.

Mommy's Little Helper

From a friend who recently flew to Memphis:
The woman in front of me had her 'service dog' with her. It was a poodle. It wore a pink 'Service Dog' lambskin jumper and the 'Service Dog' was bedazzled on with crystals.

Shit List


Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Today's Top Story

[I]f you’re the type of sicko who likes holing up in a tiny, closed office with reporters of questionable hygiene to build databases from scratch by hand-entering thousands of pages of documents to take on powerful people and institutions that wish you were dead, all for the glorious reward of having readers pick up the paper and glance at your potential prize-winning epic as they flip their way to the Jumble… well, if that sounds like journalism Heaven, then you’re our kind of sicko.
From Peggy.


An anthem for our times.

From Todd.

Overheard in the Holler

Dan: A coworker's kid was handing out chocolate bunnies the other day. I bit off the head and almost hurled: it was marshmallow inside. Why do people do that?

Overheard by: Little Slow Peep

On the Other Hand ...

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Word of the Day


Thanks to OMG Blog, Kristine, and Jezebel.


Nobody puts Baby in a cake pan.

From Derek.

Creative Writing

Before the days of colonization, America was like a young, untouched child.

Students say the darnedest things.

From Riley.

Off and Running

No one expects their dog to instantaneously develop an extremely specific fear of horse statues, and I was unprepared for her reaction, which was to sprint powerfully in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, what the simple dog lacks in cognitive capacity, she makes up in ground speed, and her sudden fleeing yanked the leash from my hand.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

The Late Show

Recent favorites from Sleep Talkin' Man:
"Listen, it's not as if I put ear wax on my penis and shouted 'snake warts!' Okay?"

"Yeah, I love you. But in a not-really kind of way."

"Pee in my bed once, shame on you. Pee in my bed twice, I'm gonna rip out your bladder and use it as a football, you geriatric incontinent cock-slap."

"Watching you think is like watching a cat shovel shit with two broken paws. Painful, but I just can't stop watching."

"What a great way to start the day, talking about dog farts and placenta."

"The shit that comes out of your mouth is like vaginal discharge. Embarrassing and unpleasant, and also a sign of something possibly seriously wrong."


Martin incorrectly surmised that the other boys would stop making fun of him
once they saw him on his new dragon broom.


From Michael.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Whipping Boy

I've never named a single dog. Except for Zap, whom Dan named long before I entered the scene, they've all been rescues, and it didn't feel right to change something that fundamental, especially when the dog had been through such upheaval. Even if the name made me cringe.

Devo was named by his first owner. It's allegedly a common name for whippets, although we've only met one other. I got it right away, as does almost everyone who was an adolescent in the early '80s. I can't tell you how many strangers have urged our dog to "whip it good." He's even been serenaded.

The reference tends to be lost on older people; many just assume it's the male form of diva, which Devo is anything but. Alas, explanation doesn't always bring enlightenment. My mother once returned from a trip and announced: "I heard 'Devo' by The Whippets on the airplane!"

Our little rocker is 14 today and still whipping it good, albeit very sedately. Having ceded primary security duties to Sparkle, Devo's grown into an elegant old man, docile and sweeter than ever. He's spending this beautiful day dozing in the sun in between walks, looking forward to tonight's cheeseburger.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Exit Strategy

Some of these could have been written for me.

From Peggy.

The More You Know

A friend recently remarked to her mother that she'd never known an uncircumcised man.

Giggling nervously, Mom said: "Um ... actually, you do."

"What?! Who?"

Still tittering, her mother informed her that her father was intact.

"Ew, gross!" she exclaimed, suddenly sorry she'd raised the topic.

As she desperately tried to cleanse her mind, her mom added that her dad's oldest friend, a man she'd known all her life, was also uncut. The two had been born at the same hospital on the same day -- July 3 -- and one theory was that the snip doctor had been on vacation.

"His parents were probably too cheap to take him back and have it done later," said Mom.

Sharing the story with some of her gays the other day, my friend said: "At least now I know for sure he never tried to molest me. Because I would've remembered seeing the anteater."

Wild Queendom

Three new ones from Randall. Not his best, but still worth a look:

Monday, March 28, 2011

'A Token of My Gratitude'

"I started feeling patently, almost titanically, gay."

David Sedaris goes to Costco.

From Dorothy.

Sites to See

Good browsing:

Tainted Love

When a friend asked her husband to put out some jam the other day, he added a little something extra ...

After breakfast she found that he'd also left his touch on her computer ...

And the almond butter ...

Nothing was sacred ...

Not even cookies ...

She went to bed thinking that was it, but awoke the next morning to his coup de grâce ...

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Friday, March 18, 2011

Today's Top Story

From Riley.

'Can I Get Pregnant From This?'

"As soon as your penis touches my butthole
without me knowing, then I'm not happy."


Cast Away

I had an iPod for years before I started exploring podcasts, but there are several that I've listened to regularly for a long time now. The only thing they have in common is that each offers a quirky and unique glimpse into the human experience.

I also subscribe to The New Yorker's monthly fiction podcast, which I usually enjoy, but not always.

Any recommendations?

The Late Show

Recent favorites from Sleep Talkin' Man:
"(chuckling) I'm so happy I could shit a puppy."

"Look at them staring at people like that. Your boobs are so obnoxious. Uch."

"Ugh, I know you. You're always on the corner of Fuck-off and Cunt-bag."

"Jesus nipples on ice! I am NOT going shopping for hamster wigs. No!"

"Listen: Some people play Scrabble. Some people play chess. You? You play turd puppets."

"Don't. Don't! Oh, don't exfoliate your labia."

"What I really need now is a whippet, three tubes, and a fuck-off mallet. Then it's go go go!"

Friday, March 11, 2011

'What a Ham'

"Congratulations, David Attenborough. You got
an exclusive interview with a sloth."

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Word of the Day



Losing weight doesn't necessarily mean a smaller size, as a friend revealed yesterday:
I think it's time I shared my giant vagina story.

A curious fact of gynecology is that the skinnier you are, the larger your diaphragm size is. [I got] very skinny in the early 1990s--108 pounds--and I had to have my diaphragm resized. I took the prescription to the local drugstore, dropped it off at the counter, and walked to the other side of the store to read magazines while I was waiting. The drugstore was mobbed, and there was a long line of people snaking past the magazine stand.

There was a mentally disabled man who had worked at the pharmacy for years. His job was to collect prescriptions, call out the names of people when their prescriptions were filled, and do checkout. He had obvious social difficulties, and a booming voice that he didn't seem to be able to modulate.

So I'm standing there reading a magazine when I hear the guy yelling, "Miss [JONES]? Miss [ANN JONES]?" I start walking toward him to get my prescription, but there are so many people teeming around the pharmacy counter that I can only get about fifteen feet away. So the guy spots me and hollers, "You are Miss [Jones]?" I tell him yes. And now everyone standing nearby is listening and looking at me, and a hush has fallen over the store.


Every single person in the drugstore turned around to look at me. I nodded and bolted for our car. [My husband] couldn't stop laughing. To this day, he likes to joke about my GIANT VAGINA.

And you thought buying condoms was embarrassing.

Straight Talk

"Do you want a side of tampons with that?"

From Terri.

Mamma Mia

MOM: Off to Sarah McLachlamb concert with your dad
ME: haha spell much?
MOM: her voice is like a gentle lamb

From Riley.

Sous Me

I'm surprised there's no mention of the quirky Musée des Égouts, which I recommend. Unless you're claustrophobic.

From Melanie.

Friday, March 04, 2011

Today's Top Story

Every object tells a story and none more so than
the items donated by lovers (and ex-lovers) to
Zagreb's new Museum of Broken Relationships

From Riley.

'Sentimental Sodomy'

Things can be made to precisely one's own specification, one's own ideal of beauty; things can be perfect; things, if broken, can be made again; things do not, like boys, betray their owners and run away with handsome sailors.

Thanks to Laura.

Bully for You

I've seen them all now, and I think this is my favorite:

Or maybe this one: