This post is fun, but it is NOT suitable for kids..or even for most old people. You have been warned! Don’t come crying to me if you’re easily offended.
Now, on with the show!
I feel like an old warrior who belongs on a tribunal. I sit and I listen calmly to the debates of others. Sometimes I am called upon to settle disputes. Other times, I grow weary of the circular debates around me that can quickly become full-blown arguments.
I don’t always want to feel as though I must tread in a burning building, particularly if my friends are in the same edifice.
I’m someone who has carried the burden of being the listener in my own family. I was the one to whom many would turn when they needed to get something off of their chests. I have heard things, much of which I should not have. I worked in mental health for many years as a counselor of some sort.
While I enjoy listening to others, I like to hear myself as well. Heheh. go on..laugh
What I’ve been reminding myself of these last few days is that there are at least two sides to everything that comes to me in my life.
Political discourse is a very good example of this.
We can talk about the shooting in Aurora, Colorado in many lights, for instance. There are those who would entertain the notion that the killer is indeed mentally ill. It’s admittedly difficult to believe that the footage of him wearing an orange wig in court epitomizes mental stability. Yet there are those of us who wonder if race and ethnicity have some part to play in the perception of him as a mentally ill person who “lost control.” It would be all too easy to believe that if he were a black man, he would have been dismissed as a thug, and perhaps even shot dead at the scene by police. I can’t relive the footage of the Rodney King incident in my brain and not wonder if this is true.
And yes, I think O.J. was guilty. Sue me.
But in yet another light, because of our “War on Terror,” what if the gunman had been of Middle Eastern descent? Would we be viewing him as a terrorist with potential ties to Al Qaeda? Would we be demanding to see his birth certificate?
Would his middle name have suddenly become “Hussein?”
When I think of these possibilities, they all make me shudder for different reasons, not the least of which includes our utter intolerance as a nation.
I want to see the good that can come from things like this. Much like so many others, I wanted Christian Bale to visit with the living victims of the Aurora shootings. For once, I got what I wanted. For once, Batman really wasn’t the hero of this piece.
I’ve come to the realization this week that books are also very strange.
When I was a child, I was taught to revere the book as a source of information, inspiration, and pure joy. The fundamentals of reading became the foundation for much of what I do today. Even when I began to work at the local Barnes and Noble, I came to the job with the notion that many of the books I touched might be written by authors whose name I’d seen in print. There’s something fascinating about that, especially considering that I stalk so many of these writers on Twitter and Facebook .
But then there’s the book called Hip snips.
This book, written by one Pablo Mitchell is officially called Hip Snips – Your Complete Guide to Dazzling Pubic Hair. In case you’re wondering what this book really is about, I cracked it open and took a look at some of the chapters. The gist of the book is this: Men and women, gay or straight, can impress their lovers with the way that they physically style and arrange their pubic hair.
I had to stop and think about this for a few seconds before I realized that this does, in fact, occur in our culture. Would women be able to name the Brazilian bikini wax without batting an eyelash if they weren’t essentially giving their pubic hair a makeover?
However, I have never heard of men styling their pubes. If that’s a subject that was ever touched on in my childhood, I guess I was absent for that particular class.
Granted this is a short book, I got the notion that all the author was going to talk about was two or three different kinds of styles for men and for women, their origins, and the nature of their use in cinema (aka – the porn industry).
This book surprised the hell out of me.
First of all, there are at least 30 chapters, all together spanning about 110 pages of pure literary genius. The beginning of each chapter provides the name and a pink and black illustration of the style. The names of the styles, drew my attention. Tell me something, what comes to YOUR mind when you think of names like “The Bea Author, The Chewbacca, The Donald Trump,” or “The Shatner?” Do you want to know what the names of these styles actually resemble? Umm .. massive comb overs and speech impediments are attractive somehow .. down there? Oh wait a minute. Does my penis suddenly have a television show where he gets to point at unsuspecting other penises and fire them in the most obnoxious way possible?
Ahem. What the fuck is going here?
If you want more titles that will bake your noodle, so to speak, have a look see at the index at this link. If nothing else, it will put a smile on your face.
Secondly, I want you all to read the introduction and the blurbs to this book and ask yourself one thing. How much free fucking time do you have on your hands? Wasn’t it bad enough when the rage back in the day was to check your stool to see what came out of the other side because you were eating a high fiber diet?
Now I’m not going to sit here and say that people DON’T pay attention, to some degree, to how their genitals look to their lovers. I personally won’t lie to you and say that I never wondered if size really did matter to the average woman. But this book has actually found ways to accentuate the length and the girth of a man’s penis based on how much hair he has in his nether regions and how he’s arranged it. Are we really going to go there? Does a woman have to look at her man’s penis and attempt to identify which style he used to make it look more attractive? Does she have to be afraid to muss his hair down there if she’s busy giving him a blowjob? What the fuck? Does she have to wonder if he used hairspray or teased it with a comb? Is she about to ingest Vidal Sassoon or Cool Water?
Whatever happened to the days where it was simply a good idea to be hygienic? It’s a great idea to wash yourself. to check yourself for lumps and unnatural formations. Ladies, I will attest strongly the notion that prior to cunnilingus, you want to be clean or your man WILL gag or throw up on you, and this, of course, would constitute the most embarrassing of rejections.
But how far should we be going with this? Do you want to nullify the effect of pheremones? That’s a natural, biological method of attracting mates, whether we want to admit it or not. Sometimes the smell of a woman is the ultimate turn on for me, plain and simple. Do I know why this is so? Not really. But I don’t question it. A woman who has chosen to douche, to snip her hair up into something that looks like a lightning bolt, or to cover up her natural smell with way too many man-made chemicals will probably find me unwilling to do much in the bedroom. I don’t want to smell vinegar and to count the prongs on the antlers that she decided would look cool on her vagina.
If there was anything that this book taught me about the nature of life is that there are two or more sides to everything with which the universe presents me. There is always something to be learned from the time I wake up in the morning to the time I go to bed. But I guess I have to remember something else too.
Nobody promised me a fucking rose garden .. anywhere.