Sex,Life & Frilly Bits

Dear Diary...I Don't Need You Anymore

Back then, everything burned with magnesium brilliance. Romance, dating, men, fun, parties and sex, it was all supposed to (ultimately) lead to the great ending. It didn't have to be a happy ending or the Disney styled terminal, but it would be pleasant, fulfilling and nourishing.

I no longer screech with panic when my old diaries surface; they actually sit atop a wardrobe. They resurfaced this week, as I was dusting my old wardrobe. There they were, a small pile of colorful notepads or diaries. If I grouped them together and tried to search a title, I'd be lost. I wouldn't be able to decide on a neat title.

The Troublesome Road Well Travelled?
Teenage jottings from the edge of naïveté?
Social Conditioning and the Female Psyche by a Disgruntled Female?

Do we really return to the old journals, for those of us that kept teenage or diaries? Even now, I can't bring myself to read old journals. I cringe at the prospect of reading over past goals that may as well reside in an alternate universe. And if I do live in the 'I can do everything and anything,' age then why didn't I set out to complete the (copious) lists in my journals? I don't have regrets, but I remember some of the writings. I liken my longhand journals to a vomit bucket; I don't dip my head back in the bucket after I've puked. I don't have to flick through pages to torture myself. Actually, the most cringe-worthy sections concern relationships and that thing Freddie Mercury praised – lurve. Ugh.

Some journals contain invective and vitriol. Think of it as a cheap alternative to a therapist. Those things will never appear on a web page, but the idea that I visited the gloomy places at some stages of my adulthood comes as a relief; I don't need to return there and if I do end up in a bind, I have the prior experience to help me through, but mostly, the writings are a great example of feminine insecurity that is common in the contemporary era.

Back then, it was 'why isn't relationship X working out?' 'What did I do wrong?' 'I should not have done this, that and the other,' and it's quite pathetic really, but that is what adult development is all about.

These days, I have no time to write about my relationship needs, love-goals or fluffy agonies. It may be trite or silly to say it, but I feel that I've reached the age where I don't give a crap. Why isn't this relationship working out? Because it isn't and it's not a huge deal – better earlier than later. In my twenties, to my late twenties, I'd spend months, and I mean create months of anxiety, going over it. I probably rivaled a OCD person. I suppose it is a way to maintain some control or generate a feeling of control even though it feels the opposite. There are many events/experiences in life that really strip the cupboard bare, making one realize that control is simply a concept that works when the circumstances are favorable, and favorable circumstances result from a combination of self-awareness and synchronicity. It's about intuiting the right moment, and intuition, far from being a new-age metaphysical gimmick, is a state of self-awareness and focus. Thus, I don't feel guilty about the unfulfilled goals of my teenage years; I wasn't focused, and that's that.

I haven't disposed of the diaries because I have a phobia of them being picked up by some stranger in a trash dump. I don't have a backyard to create a little bonfire, and while some may feel attached to their journals, I don't have any deep sentimental attachment. As I mentioned, I had a clean up, came upon the journals, and shifted them without experiencing the burning need to read them again. The diaries did serve a purpose for a particular phase and era, but they're no use to me now. Strange that.

Christina Applegate's Ultimate Decision

We had shocking news a few years ago. Housemate's friend was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer. The lump appeared to be growing at an exponential rate and a masectomy was required, followed by radiotherapy and chemotherapy.
Breast cancer, for women (like prostrate cancer for men), casts a dark shadow in our contemporary world that has seen an increase in younger women. A decade or more prior, it was a cancer of older women, and even then, either due to few detection techniques, it wasn't so prevalent but that could be because it wasn't highlighted in the media. When our friend finished her radio and chemo, and was given the all-clear, I was amazed with her candor – and the fact that she was still lighting up her Marlboros. Yes, even the smoking zeitgeist suckers me and when I pointed to her Marlboros she said, "I didn't get breast cancer from smoking, you know."

Breast cancer today is related to a genetic predisposition. The BRCA1 gene is linked to breast cancer and it is still not really clear what activates this gene to overdose on cell production, which is what cancer is – a flaw in the cell cycle.

In the early hours of yesterday morning (insomnia can be a good thing), I watched the delayed telecast of a Today Show interview with Christina Applegate. It was only a fortnight ago that I read a blurb about her breast cancer diagnosis, the type of blurb you find in a small portion of a magazine, so it was a surprise to watch the interview and find out that she has recently had a double masectomy. I don't know what made it all the more surprising; it isn't difficult to sympathize with Christina. She works in an industry that can be fickle, superficial and focused on appearance, but that isn't the big deal, the big deal is wrestling with a decision that tends to collide with modern feminine 'standards' or silly standards that dominate the media.

You can't really pick up a copy of the Sports Illustrated edition without seeing a 'taut' model. Likewise, you can't flick through the pages of any woman's magazine without noticing the models, and their 'ideal' proportions. Here you have a pair of boobs, that are promoted, ogled and held up as a standard of beauty by the media and fashion industry, and when you're at the crossroads, when it is a life or death matter, the decision needs to be made immediately, and everything changes. It kind of makes you wonder what type of frivolous world we live in.

Chistina said (in the interview):

"If this had been caught a year from now, or when I was 40, I probably wouldn't be able to live through this."

It's a sobering revelation and I wish Christina all the best from here on out. If you want to see the interview, visit the ABC News website here.

Late Night Belly Laughs - Billy Connolly

I have been up late with the Olympics. We have the delayed Olympic telecasts, and I've become addicted to the shows following the Olympic coverage. At 2 am, there is The Amazing Race. It's like experiencing other countries, and so much better than Survivor. What follows The Amazing Race is what makes me cackle at 3 am in the morning, jolting the sleeping kitties – Billy Connolly's New Zealand tour which is a repeat (that I missed the first time round), and shows excerpts of his humor.

Billy Connolly doesn't give a crap about political correctness. His humor reaches many as it is taken from everyday observations, and everything from his body language to his jibes are enough to ignite a tidal wave of laughter that penetrates the gut. I couldn't find clips from the show I watch, but I've found other clips.

The first one (below) is a clip about scrotums…yes, male scrotums. It's hilarious…

The second is about smoking…

I'd Rather Wear Fur and Be Naked Underneath...

I always wonder about groups that pretend they're nice, when they're the contrary. PETA is one group that gets under my skin. They may as well be called stalkers with the way they go on and on. If you're not a celebrity, you're lucky. These groups are mean, bitchy and stoop to the lowest insult to get their view out to  the media.
Gwyneth Paltrow is their latest target. An unnamed (yes, unnamed) PETA spokesperson was quoted with the following:

"We've written to her many times, and sent her videos showing how animals suffer for fur, but have never received a response.

"Apparently her beauty really is only skin deep. Gwyneth Paltrow won't be the apple of her daughter's eye if she continues to flaunt fur. It's a terrible example to set for a young child."

Can people be more nasty?

Mark Glover, of Respect for Animals (at least he had the balls to give his name) said:

"Gwyneth Paltrow should be ashamed. I can only assume that Paltrow either is ignorant of the facts or lacks human decency and compassion."

But even though he gave his name, it doesn't reduce the nastiness, you see if these groups catch anyone wearing leather, fur or any other animal product, groups like PETA stalk their target:

"We've written to her many times, and sent her videos showing how animals suffer for fur, but have never received a response."

I'd call the above - unsolicited barrage - stalking. Wouldn't anyone? If any group started mailing someone film, without their permission, it could be considered harassment. I'm beginning to think that one cannot be a high profile individual and live in the United States without a) being approached by these groups to 'donate'/support their causes and b) being harassed if one is 'caught' wearing fur or leather. Then again, the ad campaign Gwyneth Paltrow appears on is for a luxury Italian label but with information technology and the globalization of everything, wear mink in Paris, and some PETA freak will find out. For all we know, this organization probably pays private dicks to follow celebrities.

Now the thing is PETA can't picket places like KFC or McDonalds during the lunch peak, otherwise they'd be physically removed by diners (forget the police), so they do the next best thing -they harass celebrities in the hope that ordinary folk like you or me will stop wearing fur or leather. I personally don't wear fur, I don't need it in Australia, but if I lived in a colder climate I probably would. But I do buy leather products, and they puff and blow all they like, I'm not going to stop buying leather products due to their stupid campaigns that use female nudity to grab attention. Some of the known female models they've used for their 'I'd rather go naked than wear fur,' campaigns ultimately swapped teams when the money was right, and they were offered huge sums by fashion houses. One would think that they'd change tack, but they're as nasty as ever. Imagine, bringing a child (Gwyneth's baby daughter) into the issue. How low can PETA go? Plenty. They're like Captain Nemo - 20,000 leagues isn't enough for them.

The Paradox That is Feminism

Columnists can be predictable and they often use their spaces (and columns) to shamelessly advertise their books. They often write tripe that isn't significant, but they'll find a way to tie the tripe to one of their books. A sentence will end with, "an issue that I have discussed in my last book," (book title highlighted and linked on Amazon) or something similar. I've stopped reading columnists on a regular level, and tend to be drawn to items that are highlighted elsewhere, that relate to issues that I find interesting, like the way known feminists criticize other women, trying to mask their jealousies (what else could it be?) with intellectual bullshit. The story involving Germaine Greer and Monica Ali, where the former busily launches critiques, supporting a lobby to stop film production. Now what business is it of Greer's to help stop production of a film based on a fictional novel?

The thing that gets me about feminism is that it can be –sarcastically- referred to as feminazism. And I say that with my tongue firmly implanted in my cheek. If a woman doesn't subscribe to a particular feminist ideology or think-tank, then she isn't part of the group. She is on the outer. She can be mocked, ridiculed, harassed, and on it goes. Such is the paradox of feminism. If a group of women prefer to believe in a particular set of values and they keep those values to themselves, then fine, but when they start launching attacks, then people have to really look at the underlying motivation behind the attack by assessing the types of insecurities that lie beneath. For example, I tend to view zealous anti-porn feminists with skepticism. Sure it's about wanting to end exploitation, but is it? Or is it more reflective of negative sexual experiences? Why should I really care if a woman chooses to work as a porn star or escort when the choice isn't forced on her?

Adult Dating Sites & Loopholes: The Online Lolita

More on the subject of all things sex and Internet related, especially regarding consent, under-age abuse and exploitation, a current case in Australia boggles the mind. The term 'sex offender' conjures up revolting images of stereotyped perverts that are further categorized as a menace to society. In my opinion, the term 'sex offender' should be further broken down to take different offenses into account, as this term is usually associated with pedophiles, rapists, sexual predators and sexual sociopaths/psychopaths.

When a man is added to the sex offender list for a period of fifteen years, as a result of an online hookup that entered the real world, via the consent of the other party, what happens then? The other party in question was a fifteen year old girl posing as an eighteen year old girl on adultfriendfinder.com. The girl apparently wasn't forced or coerced to create a profile. After all, it is up to the individual to make a choice as to whether they create a profile and surf the site to look for casual sexual partners.

What unfolded? The usual case of virtual to real world sex, whereupon the man hopped on a plane, met the girl, had sex for the girl to report him to the police the following day. There are no allegations of rape, but prior to this she did reveal her age to the man, and allegedly asked him if he was still interested. Now, it can be said that the older male ought to have known better, but everyone is aware of adult sexual fantasy. He won't be the first or last male to fantasize about sleeping with a younger woman. But what about the girl and her decision to join adultfriendfinder.com? You don't join adultfriendfinder.com to discuss the game of bridge, gardening or the latest celebrity gossip.

When the issue of child protection is raised, many opinions fly about. Adults always presume that all teenagers under the age of sixteen are 'children,' but what about teenagers that develop at the speed of light, and by developing, I mean developing a sexual curiosity that becomes a compulsion. Why else would a fifteen year old teenager join adultfriendfinder.com, if not from her sexual curiosity?

Nabokov addressed the issue of sexual curiosity and the inappropriate adult response in his novel Lolita.  His character, Humbert-Humbert, wasn't a rapist, nor was he a pedophile. It was more a case of fate colliding with circumstance, Lolita reminding him of the childhood love that died and the infatuation that continued when he came upon Lolita. What made Lolita (in my view) more controversial was the real issue of sexual fascination that teenagers had. It wasn't polite to really discuss this issue, hence the controversy, but there are teenagers that do test the limit of human patience, and I'm guessing that this fifteen year old has tested her parents' patience. How else does one explain a fifteen year old joining an adult dating site? In this case (irrespective of the political correctness and whatever else), both parties are to blame, not just the one (the man).

What makes this case strange is the attitude of teenagers, in this case a girl who knowingly joined an adult web site, being either a) ignorant b) dumb and c) completely innocent. Some quarters address the issue of the teenage mind with arrogance, practically labeling them intellectually challenged each time the sentence, 'teenagers are incapable of informed consent,' but –as this case has shown – are they incapable? I, for one, doubt it. They may be incapable of integrating a sexual relationship into their lives, due to social taboos, but they're not incapable of saying yes to sex or making out, or any other sexual activity, and although the Internet's sole function isn't sex, it is the ideal medium to explore sexual curiosity. I just don't know whether the man in this scenario can be categorized as a sex offender. He is a sex offender in the sense of having sex with a minor, definitely, but this case doesn't appear to be a clear cut 'sex offender' case where the offender is a pedophile/serial killer/rapist or some other sexual sadist. What is more, why bother communicating with a man, agreeing for him to fly to a specific destination for sex, only to report him to the authorities the very next day? It takes two to tango, or have sex, so if the man is jailed (as this man was) and entered into a sex offender list, what penalties exist for a teenager that practically solicits sex via an online adult site? It isn't Adultfriendfinder's fault that this teenager slipped through the usual sign up, and that is the thing with all adult dating sites that don't require payment – any teenager can slip through. It's just a matter of typing up a fake birth date.

It's very difficult to sympathize with both the man and girl. The people I sympathize with are her parents. If you, or I were a parent, what would we do when faced with the fact that a teenage child of ours used an adult dating site, had sex with a stranger, for that stranger to be labeled a sex criminal due to one incident?

What does one do? Confiscate a teenager's computer when they can use computers elsewhere (internet cafés and libraries). Keep them locked up in their room without a PC? The fact is that there have been many cases relating to female teenagers using the Internet, for the virtual relationships to enter the real world. In all cases, the girls lied about their age.

I think another term is appropriate for this era: The Online Lolita.

(I'm sure there are teenage males that are doing the same thing but there is no term equivalent to 'Lolita')

Gummy Penises?

see more pwn and owned pictures

Nekkid Controversy & 'Harry Potter'

Can you remember back to the time in your life when nudity was a big deal? It could have been the dawn of adolescence, or the final quarter of childhood, when nudity became an enigma that you had to see for yourself. Why is that?

Sometimes I think that the fascination or naughtiness of nudity is shaped by television networks, publishers and government agencies (particularly film and literature classification organizations). They tend to stamp the image as being ‘naughty’ and henceforth contribute to the taboo concept. If we were surrounded by nudity from childhood, nudity being assigned the ordinariness of corduroy pants or jackets (or safari suits?), would we be so curious about it? Would it be ‘naughty’? I don’t think it would - deep down that is.

The latest Harry Potter film has been rescheduled for a July release in North America, and although Warner Bros are keeping mum on the subject, many think that the delayed release relates to Daniel Radcliffe’s appearance in the play Equus on Broadway - his nekkid appearance. Equus contains nudity and sexual references. Daniel appears nude (check out the Vogue layout via Perez Hilton's blog). The fact is obvious: Daniel Radcliffe is no longer the bright eyed child he was in Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. He’s an adult now. Why a big deal?

The delayed release of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is to coincide with the conclusion of Equus on Broadway. Surprise-surprise...what prudes.

At this point of my life, nudity only fascinates me from an artistic view, and that is the down side. After decades of naughtiness, one settles down and call it over stimulation or a media overdose, but nudity doesn't really create a huge spike of interest for me (in the sexual sense). That's probably due to the glut of streamlined or photo-shopped nudity that is out there, how everything (that is enhanced) looks the same. I'm more interested in art work featuring non-'standard' nudity, the nakedness that is devoid of surgical enhancements. Some would call it flawed, but a body with flaws tells more stories.

The Most Unlikely Web Site Addiction

Others are addicted to online adult dating sites and things. I'm addicted to Icanhascheezburger.com. I do have other anomalies. I like looking at fashion web sites, and drool over absurd heels that I know would make me whine, curse and cry should I wear said heels. It's like living in a parallel universe of sorts.

Anyway, these two piccies had me laughing:

more cat pictures

AND THEN there's the attitude that is clearly feline...something I live with everyday. As haughty as cats can be, they're enigmatic beyond belief. They're capable of making you think you have ghosts at home each time they sit, staring at nothing. It can creep me out after midnight. The slightest sound they register is enough to create minor anxiety. A little bump in the night - outside - and they're up and it's a case of fight or (in my kitty's case) flight. The kitten of the household isn't scared of squishing insects and gobbling them up but the older sage either can't be bothered (not to his 'taste') or is frightened of little insects.

more cat pictures

Thanks, but no thanks. I have my vibrator and there are sperm banks...

I was lazing around yesterday, indulging in coffee and doughnuts and the Sunday paper, when I came upon an article I couldn’t avoid (I also thought "thank god I'm single").  It could be the natural evolution of relationships in the modern era or renamed “When Lawyers Expand.” I can think of better things than allowing lawyers to enter a relationship. The article was about prenuptial agreements but not the type of agreements we’re accustomed to reading, seeing or learning about. These agreements had little to do with money and more to do with lifestyle.

In fact, they can be titled: “If you gain a few pounds, we’re done!” or “Develop a beer gut and you’re gone.” Superficial agreements - the type that lawyers rub their hands over, and I can see the excitement. One requires to pay for an attorney’s time (per hour), and these days, when all sorts of relationships go wrong or have a higher chance of reaching the dark side of ennui, this can be a profitable business. I can see the point in drawing up agreements for child custody, to lessen the blow later on if divorce arises, but lifestyle?

It’s quite silly to have prenuptial agreements for superficial things or relationship conditions. It is difficult to predict if a partner will remain faithful or add on a few extra pounds, or be unable to shed a few extra pounds, so to penalize them further at the beginning of the relationship, the ‘do this or else!’ mentality, isn’t something that would impress me about the individual; in fact, I wouldn’t go ahead and have a relationship with a dickwad that proposed a superficial prenuptial agreement. The other thing that irritates me is the laws governing relationships and marriage. They’re so freaking archaic, and in my view, should only be enforced when children are involved, specifically children within a relationship. Why should people be forced to provide for children that aren’t theirs to begin with? Why should adults be forced to pay a spouse maintenance after the dissolution of a relationship. The assumption that one individual or half of the relationship is owed, even if they don’t bring anything to the relationship is old fashioned, and maybe this is something that feminists don’t discuss because whether we like it or not, women - even gold diggers - are favored in divorce proceedings, and there is a growing trend that has seen men seek alimony payments for simply ‘being there’ or sharing a woman’s bed and life, without bringing in the bacon. It’s ludicrous. Just because one marries another, this shouldn’t mean that they acquire every asset but the silly laws and stupid relationship vows determine this. If you’ve worked hard all your life, you’re assets can be instantly halved the minute a relationship goes to hell. It doesn’t have to be your fault, but imagine entering a relationship you think is the best thing since the push-up bra, to be handed a pre-nup stipulating fidelity, physical robustness (or not putting on weight), restricted alcohol consumption and frugality (no extravagant heels, bags, clothes, etc).

It’s easy to be led by the ‘self protection’ excuse. Oh they’re just protecting their assets…but is it about protection or control? I don’t think it would be a problem for me. As one of the most unromantic people on this planet (I’m no longer swept away by the illusion of relationship nirvana), I’d tell the person handing me a pre-nup to shove their legalese up their arse. And no, being on the threshold of thirty (the time when women start panicking about babies) doesn’t cut it anymore. Call it the new power, but women can enter a sperm bank these days and it’s not that difficult to have unprotected sex with a person one knows to be disease free. Many women can afford single parenthood. Why bother with the potential ‘lifestyle’ pre-nup?

As if dating isn’t enough of a headache…

Read this account detailing the psychotic behavior of a bloke who practically stalked his former date. He thought he’d e-mail her to retrieve her half of the dinner, after entering the ‘does she/doesn’t she like me phase,’ and went to the point of consulting with an attorney to retrieve fifty bucks! Guys like this should be removed from the freaking gene pool.

Remember those surveys or studies that detail how many years a person spends sleeping, brushing their teeth or farting over the course of their lifetime? There ought to be studies about the time adults spend mating and dating to find the ideal partner in their lifetime. Then again, if there was such a study, people wouldn’t bother with the entire rigmarole.

Web on Sunday: From Nukes to Severed Penises

I thought I'd begin collecting the good, bad, funny and perhaps bizarre links on the web on Sunday.

And you're worried about plastic bags? George W Bush raves on about Iran, about Iran's nuclear reactor and creates a shit storm, when Russia has threatened Poland with a nuclear attack if Poland installs a nuclear interception base on its soil.

You think the Brangelina twins were 'it'? Try the septuplets in Egypt. Four boys and three girls = instant Brady Bunch plus one.

More proof of the double standard on the number of sexual partners and how this number is supposed to reflect some form of moral righteousness (cough). Why doesn't anyone ask Sarkozy about the lovers he's had? Why is society fixated on the number of previous sexual partners a woman - in this case Carla Bruni-Sarkozy - has had?

If you really want to know the truer meaning of Eurotrash (prejudiced yuppies), take a trip to Naples where prejudice toward the Roma still exists in the 21st Century.

In th world of lawsuits, Paris Hilton is being sued by the Worldwide Entertainment Group for not fulfilling her end of the deal: promoting the National Lampoon film Pledge This! They're suing her for $75,000. It's enough to make anyone laugh considering she probably spends more on handbags. A part of me can't blame her. Would you promote a National Lampoon film after you saw the finished product?

Last but not least, this can only happen in the Northern Territory. A man has sought a court injuction to stop his former girlfriend from giving his penis the chop.

My Kitchen Nightmares

I really don’t care how celebrity chefs and cooks (like Nigella - whose aristocratic lilt drives me up the wall each time I see the Twinings teabag adverts on TV.) aim to make cooking sexy; there is nothing sexy or pleasurable about working in an industrial/commercial kitchen during the dinner rush. Personally, I can’t stand commercial kitchens. I’ve worked in a few, many years ago, and I hated it for valid reasons: I’m a freaking klutz and, where temperamental chefs are concerned, I have a relatively short fuse: I’m not violent, or verbally abusive, no, but I can be (during the right hot moment), but in all my kitchen affairs, I’ve opted to walk out, go home and not give a shit if the crème bruelee deflates or the chef has an aneurysm. Life is too short to tolerate chef tantrums.

Housemate called me, telling me (telling, not asking) that I’d be working for one night only, and no, it wasn’t glam: kitchen hand in a Greek restaurant (god help me) because they ‘couldn’t find anyone,’ to make salads. I didn’t believe it.
‘No one in their family can do it?’ I asked. I know it won’t be restricted to salads. I’ll be cutting up a bunch of other crap, and I’ll also be relegated to dish duty. After all, I am female. In most Greek restaurants I’ve had the pleasure of working in here in Sydney, most dishwashers are either female or they’re Asian. Oh no, you don’t have Greek alpha males washing dishes.  I told housemate that it was ‘no,’ as in ‘no effing way am I working a kitchen for less than a hundred bucks a night.’ But not only this, the medication I take specifically makes it clear: no machinery to be operated. As far as I’m concerned a bunch of sharp knives are machinery, as are ovens (no doubt I’d have to retrieve something from an oven or salamander grill).

The other reason why I have a hatred of working in commercial kitchens is the fact that I always end up walking out with burns to my hands and arms. I’m beyond klutz. It’s as though I have a commercial culinary curse on me. One time, in the midst of a Saturday dinner service rush, I had to retrieve a tray of pastries from the oven. The fact that the chef was in a tizzy, spluttering expletives all over the place didn’t help, neither did the fact that he was behind on orders. So in my panic, I opened the oven door, retrieved the metal tray, and less than ten seconds later, dropped the tray on the floor muttering my own high pitch expletives that would make Gordon Ramsay crap himself.

I forgot to grab a towel. I picked up the tray with my bare freaking hands.

I said to housemate, ‘Oh it’s all right for you, Mr Maitre’D!’
He said, ‘but you’re not currently working,’ for me to respond with, ‘it doesn’t mean that I’d love to work for a pittance in a kitchen with a bunch of alpha males and a temperamental chef, either.’
I’m not a work snob, but I know my limitations, and restaurant kitchens are simply not my forte.

A 0.01 Second Freak of Nature

"Oh my god...no fucking way...!!!"
"Mum, you're swearing," my son said.
"Jesus Christ, will you look at that?"

Yep, the 0.01 seconds of mayhem earlier today when Michael Phelps matched Spitz' Olympic record, and although my son couldn't really appreciate the moment (he isn't a sports nut, neither am I but some feats leave you speechless). I was a one year old when Mark Spitz created history in Munich in 1972, so this Olympic moment in Beijing was gobsmacking to watch (and follow).

Phelps' quote, which will no doubt be a quote to be remembered for a while to come:

"I think the biggest thing is when someone says you can't do something, when there are big quotes in the paper to say that it's impossible to ever, ever tie or break this record, it just shows you that anything's possible. When you put your mind to something and you really focus on doing it, anything's possible."

He's living proof.

Now that's what you call a superb role model.

Beer Goggles & Sexual Control

As an aside, controlled experiments are interesting if only for the term 'controlled' and while some experiments do shed light on behaviors and reactions, there are some studies that really (and I mean really and certainly) make you want to cry out...

"D'ohhhhhhhh!"

The Beer Goggle Syndrome is one of those things that many (who have drunk a few extra, to wind up with a person that frightens them in the stark light of The Morning After) has experienced at some point in their adulthood. Do you need a research team from the University of Bristol to tell you that you can make crap decisions when you're drunk or tipsy? Not really, but it's now 'scientific fact' (I suppose some researchers do need jobs and journal appearances):

"A test on drunk university students has scientifically proven what was common pub knowledge - that drinking improves the appearance of those around you.

A team from the University of Bristol in England conducted a controlled experiment on 84 young heterosexuals, getting half of them tipsy on a drink and asking all of them to rate the attractiveness of people in photographs."

A second D'OHHHHHH to this research team from me personally.

If alcohol impedes driving and basic reflexes, of course it's going to impede partner selection. Excess alcohol can be compared to an internal collision: the conscious struggles with the subconscious. The Id fights with the Super-Ego. It's like a game of tug-o-war. Now we need a bunch of university researchers to tell us that we rate people (we normally wouldn't rate) more attractive based on excess alcohol consumption? I think not - that is what our morning after flight response is for.

~~

More on why social control doesn't work. It appears that smoking bans haven't made a huge impact on the reduction of tobacco smoking. I could have told them that....a third d'ohhh.

From the Mouth of Kids...

Kids are fun...here's some dialogue from my crib:

Son: How old is McCain?
Me:  About seventy, seventy-one.
Son: Why does he want to be president?
Me:  It's about power, accomplishment and presiding over the biggest economy in the world.
Son: He's too old to become the president!

Ah to be a kid again...such honesty!