When did SEX lose the SEXY?

Okay, so I like to skip through 95% of the MTV Video Music Awards cause most of it sucks and makes my brain hurt. It makes me long for the days of Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Alice in Chains. Shit, it makes me long for Lionel Richie!

But every once in a rare while something good will pop up on-screen, so while I keep my finger on the Fast Forward button most of the time, I’m occasionally entertained.

In watching a seemingly 29-hour-long show in about 15 minutes, one thing became perfectly clear to me: Sex has lost the Sexy.

For example, Nikki Minaj and Miley Cyrus spent more time simulating sex and fondling their own muffs than most people have done in the preceding 6 months.

Don’t get me wrong. I love me a sexy girl doing a sexy little dance. Who doesn’t? But “sexy” is the operative word. Not a whorin’-down-by-the-docks-for-crack-money type of dancing. Unless of course it’s actual porn you’re after, then you go on with your bad self.

What I’m talking about is the lead-up…the seduction…what lures you in…

You guys know that I’m all about sexual freedom. I don’t care if you screw a turnip as long as you are enjoying yourself and hurting no one (assuming, of course, that turnips can’t feel your perverted body parts all over them!). ;)

I think part of what makes society all fucked up over sexual things is the inherent vibe that sexual stuff is naughty, and provocative behavior is slutty (especially if you are a chick). I’m all about embracing sexiness in any which way you please.

So, I’m not complaining about the sexuality of it all. I’m complaining because the tease is such a big part of sexy yum yumminess and it seems that the tease has gone the way of the Dodo bird.

I remember when I was in my early 20s watching this video and thinking these girls were the sexiest things on 2 legs.

 

And this song? Yeah, this song is delicious. Click on the chick to listen to it.

 

 

And this one? Yep. I’m in. Even though the lyrics aren’t sex-pot-filled… that slow, dripping beat… good God…  I can totally picture Liv Tyler doing her sexy little stage dance to this song.

 

Now, I’m not saying there isn’t a time and place for raunchiness. I’m no saint! ;) But I think there is something to be said for the burlesque in the seduction. Does it always have to go to gynecology?

Advertising your sex isn’t innovative or cutting edge or scandalous. People have been doing it since literally the very first people walked the earth.

I guess I just find clever sexuality to be sexier. Give my mind time to wander around in lust and mystery, envisioning the next thing to come, rather than shoving it my face and leaving nothing to my imagination.

Okay, I’m done with my rant. I just want the world to do what JT used to sing about: Bring Sexy Back. ;)

I’m trying something new…NO! Not bestiality! Ya bunch of perverts! ;)

Over the last few years I’ve had some requests to turn my blog into a podcast of sorts.

As I’m lazy as fuck (in reality I just work too damn hard during the day!), I’ve been putting it off. But with my last post I got a few emails telling me they want to hear it instead of read it. So, I’m giving in.

But I must warn you…I’m doing it in one take. So if I fuck up horribly, sneeze or decide to eat dinner while recording…well, you are just going to have to hear it all. ;)

Here’s my first try. It’s a recording of my last post, “I’ve HAD it,” which is a rant about dumbfuckery.

It’s not word-for-word, but it’s close.

Don’t be too hard on me and all my mess-ups.

:)

 

Here’s the link if ya wanna see the last pic in the post. :)

 

I’ve HAD it!

Okay, so it’s no surprise to any of you that I prefer proper English unless making a point or being silly or for some other good reason. Lord knows I’ve said “ain’t” and other such things on more than one occasion. I’m flying my hypocrite flag as I type. ;)

And I know I can be a grammar freak and should probably just suck it up in this day and age of texting, but I saw something so egregious the other day that I simply have to comment on it.

First let me say that I understand abbreviations make it easier to text when:

  1. You have no fucking clue how to spall wrds
  2. You don’t care about spaleng wrods kerrektly
  3. You like confusing us old folk
  4. You are texting while driving 80 mph and are trying not to murder everyone on the road
  5. You are getting nookied from behind and all that commotion is making it difficult to type

I get it. Sometimes an abbreviation is okay. On a VERY rare occasion I use one myself. (Usually WTF? when I’m attempting to be polite!). :)

But this one that I saw defies all comprehension.

I seriously do NOT understand how this abbreviation is at all easier to type than actually spelling the word.TheFuckKitty

Here it is: ‘Yn(n)’s

What in the holy fuck?

Here’s how that breaks down from a typing perspective on an Android phone.

  1. Tap the symbol key
  2. Tap the apostrophe key
  3. Tap the ABC key
  4. Tap the Capitalization key
  5. Tap the Y key
  6. Tap the n key
  7. Tap the symbol key
  8. Tap the opening parentheses key
  9. Tap the ABC key
  10. Tap the n key
  11. Tap the symbol key
  12. Tap the closing parentheses key
  13. Tap the apostrophe key
  14. Tap the ABC key
  15. Tap the s key

Luckily, due to the context of the truly awful sentence, I was able to suss out that they were attempting to communicate the word “youngins.”

How on earth is it easier to do all those steps listed above than just typing the fuckin’ word?

I both burst out laughing and died of horror when I saw that helpful texting shortcut. What on God’s green Earth…?

While I realize I’m old and inflexible and an asshat, can we please just agree that if the abbreviation is harder to type than the damn word itself that we’ll just stick to the damn word? Please?SillySmileyFace

All those under the age of 35 will have but one answer for me:

NonKitty

Double-dropped Kitchen Floor Ice Cream

I still believe that icecream should be one word. WHY ISN’T IT ONE WORD??? It doesn’t make any sense. Iceberg is one word. So is Iceland. What about iceman? Even iceweasel is one word–though I have no flippin’ idea what it means.

Anyway, I digress!

You guys know I love chocolate.

If I could eat it all day, every day without dying of malnutrition, I’d do so. To hell with being able to fit into a car. Chocolate rules!

So, in an effort to eat food that is as healthy and non-processed as possible (meaning if it contains plastic, shit I cannot pronounce, or metal shavings, I’m trying to shy away from it), I thought that what I’d do is when I’m dying for some chocolate I’d just eat one spoonful of my favorite chocolate iceCREAM (dammit!) on earth: Ben & Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk. Just the name of it makes me a bit randy! And it contains ingredients that don’t tongue tie me.

Believe it or not I’m perfectly capable (though it takes ALL my strength) of eating only one bite per day. It sates my chocolate craving and is only about 25 calories for a small bite.

About a week ago I realized that my month-old pint of B&J is down to the last bite. Yes! It lasted a whole month. I am quite proud of myself.

I was so excited about getting that last delicious morsel of orgasmic chocolate heaven into my gaping maw that I attacked the pint with a ferocity typically known only to mother lions protecting their cubs.

Alas, that damn stuff was so frozen that it was not very accepting of my spoon. It bent the damn thing in half. (I know I’m not the only person with like 10 oddly bent spoons in their silverware drawer from where hard iceCREAM bent it and you had to try and mush it back into shape with only moderate success.)

Dang bendy spoons!

Dang bendy spoons!

So, back to the inaccessible B&J: GAME ON BITCH! I was gonna get that chocolate onto my spoon come hell or high water. PMS waits for NO frozen iceCREAM.

Finally, after digging at it and prying it away from the edge of the pint, I get some success. The spoon is in and the iceCREAM is slightly mobile, if not still a wee bit stuck.

With one final YANK I free the chocolate bliss from its wretched home and watch it go sailing through the air to land with an unceremonious splat on my kitchen floor.

Fuck!

Now, I don’t know about you, but my kitchen floor isn’t…well…clean.

As I refuse to clean anything in the kitchen and it all falls to the hubby, I can’t complain if the kitchen floor is gross. If I’m not willing to clean it, I also can’t bitch if it’s not clean.

I look lovingly upon my iceCREAM splat and say, “5 second rule!” I’m eating it and I don’t care.

I pick it up off the floor, analyze the 8 cat hairs and various other ickies now attached to it and decide that it’s worth the risk.

I remove all of the extra floor sprinkles now added to my piece of chocolate heaven and go to put it into my mouth.

Alas, my fingers are warm and with all the picking off of the ickies the iceCREAM has slightly melted and whoops! Through my fingers it falls again onto the floor.

DOUBLE FUCK-A-DOODLE-DO!

But, eh, to hell with it. I cleaned it once, I can clean it again.

Now I’m back to removing cat hair and other Typhoid-carrying elements from my manna from Heaven. Finally, it looks clean enough to eat (well, sorta) and I pop that bite ‘o yumminess into my waiting mouth.

Mmmmmm…chocolate…mmmmmm…in love with Ben & Jerry. Wanna marry them…mmmmm… WHAT THE FUCK? Yep, there was a “what the fuck” moment while luxuriating in the chocolate bliss that is New York Super Fudge Chunk. I guess my iceCREAM picked up a hitchhiking pepper seed that had fallen to the floor a few days ago when the hubby was cooking Thai food.

Not sure how much you know about Thai peppers, but to say they are hot is like saying that Megan Fox or Chris Hemsworth (Thor) are just kinda okay looking–a tremendous understatement.

FIRE dammit! My mouth is on FIRE!

Yes, the iceCREAM did help it a bit as the cold helped numb my poor tongue. But whatever kind of pepper seed attached itself to my hunk ‘o hunk of burning dessert was bound and determined to survive.

My damn mouth burned for over a full day. Son of a bitch! Dumb floor. Dumb extra-frozen iceCREAM. Dumb pepper seed.

What…no “Dumb Jodi” in that list? Yeah, I should have been at the top of it! Single-dropped iceCREAM is bad enough. Double-dropped? I should have taken the second drop as a sign from God to just slowly back away from the chocolate. But since I don’t listen to anyone, including my own common sense, I had burny-tongue as my lesson of the day.

Well, actually, I didn’t learn any lesson. I’d still eat double-dropped iceCREAM if it was the last bite in the pint. I’m horrifyingly gross and I’m okay with it! :)

XOXOXO

Quit being a fucktard

Seriously, I’ve tried to write this post 50 times and keep deleting it.

I’m trying to be delicate and inoffensive (which, I know, is rare!).

But I’m just going to say it.

People have a right to be who they are. Period.

If you don’t like it, don’t look at it.

If you don’t like it, don’t go to their parties.

If you don’t like it, don’t invite them over for Sunday dinner.

If you don’t like it, tough noogies.

I can GUARANTEE that no matter what kind of clean-living life you think you lead (and by you, I mean everyone on earth), there is someone on this planet who despises your faith, your politics, your sexuality, the color of your skin, etc…

It is sad that people hate so quickly and easily for something as little as where someone else sticks their dick.

Who the hell cares?

All of us have done or do things that others wouldn’t approve of, but we don’t want to be judged.

So, here’s an idea, don’t judge others either.

There will always be people you don’t like. I can name a few off the top of my head that I’d like to see eaten by prairie dogs. But it’s not because of who they sleep with, what church they attend, how much or little melanin they have in their skin.

If I hate a mother fucker it’s because they treat people like shit. It’s a personal kind of dislike that is rooted totally in the fact that that person makes a conscious effort to ruin other people’s lives in a direct, person-to-person way.

A transgender couple in Alabama is not mean to me, therefore I hope they are happy and live wonderful lives.

A biracial couple raising biracial kids in Washington is not mean to me, therefore I hope they are happy and live wonderful lives.

A gay couple getting married because they are in love is not being mean to me, therefore I hope they too are happy and live wonderful lives.

What I can never understand is why people latch onto things that they personally think are unacceptable because they fall outside of their own view of the world, and then choose to rail on about how bad, evil, against God, unnatural, blah blah blah those ways of life are.

Honest to God, one of the best things anyone can do both for society and for themselves is learn that a world full of happy, loving, tolerant, non-judgmental people, who spend their time doing things to BETTER the world rather than spitting venom into it, is a better world in which everyone can find their bit of joy.

I remember once being preached at by someone about how gays are ruining the world. Meanwhile, this person was married and having not one, but two, affairs.

Hmmm…I think that those without sin should chuck that first rock. The hypocrisy about killed me. But then everyone can find ways to defend their own lifestyle choices, while condemning others’ right to make their own.

My mantra is this: Wake up. Hurt no one. Go to sleep. Wake up. Repeat.

To me, and only to me as everyone is allowed their own opinion, that is the way to lead a truly happy life.

I don’t worry about who fucks who.

I don’t worry about who prays to what God.

All I care about is that we are kind to each other and try to create a world where our children will grow into happy, healthy adults where the word “tolerance” isn’t even a part of their vocabulary because allowing someone to live a life different from their own isn’t “tolerating” anything. It’s just how it is and all’s good.

I know there may be people who read this and say that I’m trying to choke my own thoughts down their throat so aren’t I a big ole fucking hypocrite? Well, if me sharing that I want people to live wonderful, judgment-free lives where differences aren’t only tolerated but celebrated, then I’m okay being labeled a hypocrite.

I hear all the time from people defending their right to hate somebody that “MY God doesn’t approve of that,” when it comes to the way some people choose to live their lives.

Well, let me just say this. My God is loving. My God sacrificed his Son for our sins. My God judges lives when you walk though the Pearly Gates–so that means you don’t have to do His job for Him.

When it all comes down in the end…when you look back on your life…do you want it to be full of antagonism, prejudice, hate, intolerance and judgment?

Or do you want to look back and say, “I did my best to create a good life, bring people around me joy, and now I can die knowing I did the best I could.”?

I vote for the second option.

In those last moments will you think about all the people you hated or will you think about the love you’ve been blessed enough to know?

If the answer is “the love” then why wait until your final moments? Why not live that life now?

But better people than me have written about such things, and so here are words from a very wise person about The End.

In my rear view mirror the sun is going down
Sinking behind bridges in the road
And I think of all the good things
That we have left undone
And I suffer premonitions
Confirm suspicions
Of the holocaust to come.

The rusty wire that holds the cork
That keeps the anger in
Gives way
And suddenly it’s day again.
The sun is in the East
Even though the day is done.
Two suns in the sunset
Could be the human race is run.

Like the moment when the brakes lock
And you slide towards the big truck
You stretch the frozen moments with your fear.
And you’ll never hear their voices
And you’ll never see their faces
You have no recourse to the law anymore.

And as the windshield melts
My tears evaporate
Leaving only charcoal to defend.
Finally I understand the feelings of the few.
Ashes and diamonds
Foe and friend
We were all equal in the end.