Thursday, December 31, 2009

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Strip Club - Christmas, Part 2

So sometime after the encounter with Tara Ann and the aquarium, a couple of Bear’s high school buddies come over, still Christmas eve, still with everything closed for the holidays. But first, a little bit about Bear’s friends.

Bear has this group of guys he’s been friends with since elementary school, which I find incredibly adorable especially considering how they all know each other. Bear is a certified genius. They are all certified geniuses. They were kids pulled out of regular classes to be in a special program for brilliant babies.

Did anyone else but me watch Malcolm in the Middle? Does anyone remember Malcolm’s Krelboyne classmates? This is how I picture Bear’s childhood.

So two of these guys come over, the pretty one and the military one, for the sake of the argument. One now lives in San Francisco following hipster fashion blogs and pillaging girls from OK Cupid, the other lives in Texas drinking a lot and maintaining an insane amount of muscle mass. I’ll let you guess which is which. We’ll call them Frisco and the Texan.

I had been excited about seeing The Texan for some time. Frisco, Bear, and I had hung out quite a bit together by now, being that I went to college with Frisco and that he and Bear were roommates for years, right up until he came to live with me in Los Angeles. Meanwhile the Texan had always been more of an enigma. From the livejournal days, he had been one of the harshest “trolls”, always under the belt, always hilarious. But I’d only met him once, when I was 21, and the kid and I hadn’t said two words to each other. I figured that six years later, and me living with one of his oldest friends, I’d finally get to know the guy a little. Especially after a couple of drinks.

So we all go out to the local Pool Hall, Hard Times Billiards which other than Denny’s seems to be the only thing happening in town. Bear makes a joke about going to a strip club. We all laugh. I slap him playfully.

The pool hall is pretty crowded – especially for Christmas eve. It in fact seems like we have stumbled upon the busiest place in town. We get a pitcher of beer and try to relax. This really isn’t any of our scene. The Texan has an initial lucky streak. It fades fast. We all kind of suck.

There is a girl I had been looking at a little bit. She was tall and had very long blonde hair and a wholesome (if drunk) beauty to her. She had a wide smile and tight clothes. And then, she was coming right for me.

“Hi, I’m Tory,” she says. She shakes my hand. I’m a little drunk and feel so out of place here anyway that this whole encounter is already a bit much. What does she want from me? Does she want to know if I was staring at her? Does she want to know why? Oh god, is this going to be highschool all over again?

“Me and my friend over there were wondering if he was in the military.”

She gestures toward the Texan.

“Actually he is in the military. The air force.”

“Hey you! You hoo! Hey! I’ve been watching you – hey! I knew you were in the military!”

The Texan walks off, either uninterested or more likely unwilling to accept that he and his new muscles are being courted by the hottest girl in the pool hall.

“He’s shy.” I explain.

As she goes on about him, a man appears who bears a striking resemblance to Biff in the Back to the Future movies. He doesn’t act much better, either.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks her, and then proceeds to stare us down, asking variations of the same question. Sadly, the Krelboynes aren’t fighters. Eventually, they walk off. Bear and I are delighted that the Texan was approached. Frisco, always the pretty one, seems a little bewildered to have been second choice now that he was out of trendy San Fran. We had no idea that the entire incident would go from being cute to hilarious. In time, that is.

On Christmas Day, before the family dinner, Bear takes me around Sacramento a little more. One place he knows I’ll really dig is Placerville.

Apparently so many people were hung in this town that in 1849 it was officially called Hangtown. The churches and likeminded people petitioned for a real name. They got one about 6 years later. I love how the city dawdled on letting these poor residents tell their relatives they live anywhere else but Hangtown.

What’s great about it now is that the town seems to be using this gruesome history for tourist profits. Bear grew up seeing this gaudy guy, which sadly seems to have been removed now:

Nevertheless, hanging onto the Hangtown name, although a nickname now, is morbid enough to give me a nice little chill.

Hangtown, along with the rest of Sacramento, was completely dead on Christmas day. After a short visit to there and a good bit of weed smoked at sunset in a drive through an apple farm, we go home for the great goy dinner.

As a Jewish woman, especially one who has never dated a Jewish man, I have had many Christmas dinners with men and their families. Some were boyfriends, others just friends, but I had never been to a dinner with a guy who’s parents were divorced. It was a little bit sweet to see two divorced people sit with one another as a family, with just as much tenderness, bitterness, sarcastic remarks and love as any other family I’d been with. Who knew.

That said, afterward, we were stressed out. Big time. The teenage sister had already had a melt down in the living room. Even his impossibly patient mom was starting to get a twinge to her voice. Bear and I had to get out. After being at the pool hall the night before, neither of us really wanted to drink. So we dicided to go to an Indian Casino.

I wanted to go to an Indian Casino for a number of dumb reasons. The first was I thought I might actually see an Indian. No deal. The second was I’d deluded myself into thinking I could win money. Ha. The third was I wanted to get that sense of being in a subculture that was exciting, creepy, and ultimately sad. I got that, I did, but, I’d been to Los Vegas twice. This just wasn’t cutting it.

Not to say that it wasn’t a happening place. I mean, there were no showgirlish cocktail waitresses, no free drinks, no place that you could play the house. In fact, it was too fucking packed to deal with. Mostly geriatric patients.

Due to a nasty case of Lupus, I get a handicap placard for life. That’s right, I never have to pay for parking, because it’s already been paid for - with my youth. Hence, I’ve become quite spoiled when it comes to parking. I try to avoid using the actual handicap spot, but certainly assume they will be available to me in the case of a cold and crowded night like Christmas Day at the Casino. No luck. Rows and rows of handicap parking, all taken. That should have been a clue about what was going on inside, but we went anyway, for all of about 5 minutes. The first four and a half minutes were spent searching for an empty slot machine - any empty slot machine, the last 30 seconds, swiftly losing $20. It was time to leave with the little cash I had allotted for fun that night.

Well neither of us wanted to go home after spending a night searching for Casino parking, and everything in town was closed, so, nervously, we decide to go to a strip club. Mostly, we were curious about the caliber of strippers working on Christmas Day. Both of us had been to strip clubs a few times before, but never with each other, and as I've said, I am a very jealous person, so we didn’t know how it would go.

We pull up to City Limits Showgirls, and leave the car as two ridiculously anxious teenage boys trapped in the bodies of two grown people. We laugh a little bit about how nervous we are. We decide we don’t have to stay long, etc.

We walk in and sit down in the corner, away from the stage, away from the world. Within about a minute, one of the strippers, who is pacing the place in a polka dot bikini, looks very familiar. Her face lights up when she sees me staring. She gives a friendly hello.

It’s Tory from the pool hall.

She walks over to us and effortlessly puts one of her legs between Bear’s leg, and one of her hands on his thigh. She caresses him gently as she chit chats with me about how cute The Texan was and how she wished he hadn’t been so shy.

I ask her about the Biff guy she was with, and she starts to tell us a long story about how he isn’t exactly her boyfriend and all of the reasons why, and as she gets more into her rant, she starts forgetting to carress Bear’s thigh, and instead starts using his leg as a sort of podium for angry gestures.

“… and that’s when I told him, if you don’t come to Christmas dinner at my moms, it’s really over,” she'd say, punching Bear’s leg to accentuate her point.

“Tell that Texan he and I… he and I should play our own game of pool.”

She offers us a couples dance, we decline. She offers a two-for-one, we still aren’t interested. She gives us her phone number, with her real name and all, and we get back to our inner teenage selves, all flattered and shy. We text Frisco and the Texan like crazy. About an hour later, she’s on the stage, stripping to nude, stretching out the lips of her pussy for even the creepy kids in the corner to see.

For those of you lucky enough to have a way with women, perhaps this isn’t a big thing, but for little old me, it’s quite something to be checking out a girl one night in a pool hall, and then the next night, get to see her totally naked.

When we get in the car we are shocked to discover we had actually stayed for two and a half hours. We note the vague sense of both horror and arousal that is left with us from that dark perverted place.

We note that we feel just how Bear and I love to feel.

Although I am certainly not the only woman with a boyfriend willing to go to a strip club, to have one describe it as great because we got to make it into “our own Mystery Science Theater 3,000”… well, I really dig that. Our little dirty dance of love, the girls little dirty pole dance, three aging Krelboynes around a pool table.. what can I say? It’s all the same, truly.

Happy New Year, everyone.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Yesterday's Girl and the Cockfish - Christmas, part 1

Fact: I am an extremely jealous person. So, I was nervous to meet Tara Ann, who my boyfriend Bear had a thing with a few years ago. I had been making jokes with Bear for months that I’d claw her face off within minutes, and I wasn’t really sure how much I’d been joking.

Bear grew up in Sacramento. We drove up to stay with his mom for Christmas this year and I got my first real dose of the city. And more importantly, the city under the city.

In the 1860’s, after extensive flood damage to downtown Sacramento, the city decided to build a new, elevated street level twelve feet above the old one. Not just build new streets where the old ones used to be, oh no, the old streets and dilapidated bits of shops were going to stay right there – they in fact built new streets twelve feet above the old ones.

Sacramento isn’t exactly special for having an underground city. Apparently Seattle and Toronto do too, but the thing about Sacramento unlike some of the others, is they don’t have any kind of ‘Underground Sidewalk Tours’. They just have creepy ghost stories and urban legends of literal underground cultures of drugs and sex and violence.

Amazing. So here was this town, a freshly paved and painted rendition of the wild west that it once was, crisp and clean and always family oriented, but underneath that...

Which brings me back to Tara Ann, and my happy relationship. The innocence of ending our first year together, Bear and I, living together, without a break up, without even a near one, having been friends for so long beforehand that we’d already said ‘I love you’ before ever sleeping together, and long before any kind of official ‘date’. Yet underneath that, every entry of my sick sex journal that he had read and remembered, and the girls he’d slept with as well. The way the past takes a seat in my mind and heckles the present, rude and ridiculous, not just my own past but his as well.

So as far as Tara Ann went, I was honestly hoping she’d be undeniably stupid or painfully ugly, but sadly, neither were the case. In fact I could understand completely upon meeting her why she and Bear had connected. Gross.

We were scheduled to meet up with her on Christmas eve for dinner, along with her boyfriend and another guy friend of theirs who obstensibly had no idea he was about to tag along on a double date with some heavy history and a face clawer to boot. There wasn’t much open due to the holiday but eventually we landed in a Thai resturaunt within a mini mall.

Tara Ann sat across from me, all smiles. Her boyfriend talked a little about his time in the navy, Tara Ann about her effeminate brother, the friend about graduate school. We all talked about Las Vegas, corona beer, and escort services. Tara Ann’s boyfriend shared a tip about judging prostitutes based on how many dudes old rather than how many years. I considered it quietly while picturing this brow eyed brunette across the way from me straddling my beloved boyfriend. It all seemed too surreal to get upset by. The strangest part was the aquarium. Our booth was in the corner right up against a beautiful and large aquarium with some very interesting life in it.

One of the plants in it looked exactly, and I do mean exactly, like a close-up of a pussy.

There were a lot more though that looks something like this.

To be fair, this is actually a beige sea cucumber, but nevertheless, I think you get my drift.

So while none of us at the table mentioned the tryst between Tara Ann and Bear, these strange creatures swam in and out of one another, around and around.

Finally, during a little silence at the table, Tara Ann addressed one of the cock fish.

“This one… this one looks weird.”

“It sure does.” I said. It was probably one of the first outbursts of mine. Despite my two drinks, I was having a hard time becoming social.

“It looks like…” she pauses. We all wait. “…it looks like an… an exploding finger.”

There’s a feeling of relief as we all vehemently agree with her. We talk about some of the boys Tara Ann and Bear both knew growing up, we all go our separate ways. Tara Ann kept her face. I actually really liked her, despite The Past.

The past is a weird thing, I guess. It’s always available in a dangerous and dark sort of way, there are always mental doorways and emotional tunnels we can find within ourselves. Always.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

13 Hottest Women of our Times with Small Breasts

I am compelled to write this list as both a skinny chick with tiny tits and as a die hard fan of breasts in general. Don't get me wrong, some of the sexiest women on earth also have huge breasts, but, this is an homage to insanely hot women who flaunt a-cups and drive men (and me) crazy while they do it.

#1 Olivia Wilde

As of 2009, this hot, hot, hot bitch with tits way smaller than yours or mine is ranked #1 on Maxim magazine’s Hot 100. Do any House fans remember the good doctor calling her the hottest woman in the world? Well.

Oh right. And then a prince married her. Seriously.

#2 Kiera Knightly

Sexiest Woman in the World according to FHM, 2004. Honestly, I found so many ‘Sexiest of..’ lists for this girl that it was unbelievable, including #9 on Maxim’s Hot 100 in 2004 as well. And the year earlier had been cast in Pirates of the Caribbean as the best candidate to match the hotness of, oh, Johnny Depp. Mmmff.

#3 Natalie Portman

One of Life magazine’s 50 Most Beautiful People in 2002. Not to mention she’s basically everywhere all the time now.

My favorite thing about this waifish beauty though has more to do with an insanely handsome blue eyed, blonde haired, tall and muscled housemate I had in college. This perfectly chiseled porn-loving beer-drinking quintessential ‘dude’ used to always tell me to grow some tits when we’d joke around. And he wanted to ravage Natalie Portman’s petite frame until there was nothing left. (I ended up finding out a few years after college that Ms. Portman was not missing out on much, but I digress..)

#4 Kate Hudson

She won an oscar for Almost Famous where she played the girl Billy Crudup couldn’t stop fucking and a teenage boy became obsessed with in a way that made me uncomfortable.

Furthermore, didn’t Owen Wilson try to kill himself for her?

#5 Paris Hilton

Sure, she’s a famous heiress who has, possibly, pushed the feminist cause back a number of years. But what can I say, I think she’s sexy. And according to millions of internet nerds and, well, every guy I’ve ever spoken with, I’m not alone. I think my favorite line about her was actually from a client of mine – ‘she has those perfect champagne glass shaped ones…’

#6 Gywneth Paltrow

Bla bla bla, she won an Oscar, but come on, this woman was engaged to Brad Pitt. Period. Which brings us onto our next winner.

#7 Cate Blanchett

Not once, but twice now she has been cast as the sexy love interest/wife of Mr. Brad Pitt. But mostly, I dig her from Notes on a Scandal. Kill me, but it was kind of a hot movie.

#8 Katrina Bowden

Uh, yea. You know the woman from 30 Rock whose entire character is being the sexiest woman in the entire world?

#9 Gwen Stefani

I remember the fateful day in highschool when I heard on the radio that my one rockstar crush, Gavin Rossdale, was apparently set to marry this girl with what I considered a stupid band with a stupid name. Yes, I thought this while being a huge fan of Bush. I have no excuse. The point is, as silly as it all was, at 14 I was filled with jealousy over this woman for being with the dreamboat who had totally looked in my vague direction when daddy got me tickets for his concert. Well, well, well.. it looks like Gwen and I were packing the same set all along…

#10 Julia Stiles

One of People magazine’s 50 most beautiful people in 2001. Moreso I got a little crush on her when as a teenager.

#11 Milla Jovovich

My boyfriend in college had her on his desktop. He and every other man who saw The 5th Element.

#12 Charlize Theron

I was shocked when I saw this photo. Maybe it was because of all the extra weight in Monster, but I’ve always thought that Charlize had one of those Selma Hayek body types. Other than Monster, has this woman ever played anyone other than OMFG THE HOTTEST WOMAN ON EARTH?

I miss Arrested Development :(

#13 Zoe Saldana

This women is apparently up and coming since being in Pirates of the Caribbean, but mostly, when I saw this photo, I just had to save it. I mean... gorgeous.

Ok, so even though these two aren't really 'of the times', I couldn't help but add them in...

Kate Moss

Thank you Johnny Depp, for falling so head over heels for her back in the silicone obsessed 90's, so that I knew there were gorgeous men for the rest of us.

Michele Pfieffer
Two words: scar. face.

Carry on.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Human nature is the most love-able when it's in dead stuff

There is something about the personification of objects that really make me smile. When I was a little kid I would imagine that everything had it's own personality and resulting emotional states. I know that most kids did this, but I'm pretty sure I did it more. For instance, I was so bad and bored with math that every number, one through nine, had it's own gender and enough of an individual identity for me to create a very dorky drama for myself when the numbers would "meet" each other through addition, subtraction, etc. Five and six were in love; he was a gentle romantic and she was silly but a little shy. Nine was a complete bitch. In retrospect, I'm pretty sure I was basing their personalities on how easy the times-table for it was.

Anyway, now as a big bad adult what brightens my day are these adorable dead flies.

It's just them posed on little doodles to make it look like they're doing something, but, somehow, you have to giggle.

Now that I've gotten so into personifying objects, let's objectify a person.

What? You were expecting a sexual object?

I love this photo. The girl herself isn't even recognizable to her own mother, but the emotion of that moment is. I found it here, apparently she's a Bavarian dancer, celebrating the creation of a democratic Germany after the war.

Oh, by the way, the self aware eggs up top are here, and there are plenty more where that one came from. They are wonderful.

Well, I guess this is my version of a feel-good sort of a post. Happy anthropomophizing.

Friday, November 13, 2009

defeat by solipsism

Someday, I will write an actual blog entry. Vulnerable, raw, true, and inevitably embarrasing. In the meantime though, I am totally continuing to hide behind my nihilism.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Dia de los Muertos, made hot by a Texan.

Surrealism makes people smarter. One point for me.

Apparently it's true, according to this fantastic psychology finding. Basically what it comes down to is this: shit that doesn't make sense forces us to think harder. Oh, and the bald soprano always wears her hair in the same style.

The article mentions Franz Kafka and David Lynch in particular. The drawing of Kafka above is by R. Crumb. He illustrated Introducing Kafka, a fact that makes the book alone worth while.
And below, a statue of him from Prague, Czech (his old digs).

Friday, September 11, 2009

Two comics, made so much better

First we have Nietzsche Family Circus. By that I mean clips from the comic with randomized Nietzsche quotes such as "Thoughts are the shadows of our feelings, always darker, emptier, simpler." I am sure I would enjoy the site a lot more if I had ever actually been a fan of Family Circus, but still, it's very cute.

My absolute favorite though is Garfield minus Garfield, which is exactly that. The original comics, with Garfield erased.

People have told me about this for years, but I never realized how well the comics actually read this way.

It almost makes me wonder what Garfield was doing in those panels to begin with.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Memento mori madness

The relationship between humans and death has always been weird and amusing, but I find this especially surprising. It's a series of photographs not only taken after the person is dead, but taken with the deceased persons posed as if not dead.

Graffiti to read while hanging.

Much like the woman who found this gem, I too wish I had thought of it.