"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." Groucho Marx
Fellow parents of young children may be familiar with the moose from Noggin. Today my daughter took a look at the moose (see picture below) and announced that his penis is in the wrong place.
I tried to explain that he has a tail and that this is not a penis. For about five minutes I contended with three year old logic and then I threw my hands up and walked away. I have been defeated by a three year-old girl.
Oy.
Something tells me that she and I will revisit this topic again later.
Howdy folks. It is time for my latest confession. I shared an office for a number of years with someone who had a habit of talking to themselves. Let me clarify that, this person would type out emails while simultaneously reading them aloud.
I guess that I sat next to them for far too long because now I often find myself doing the same thing. I suppose that it is not such a bad thing to do. It has its uses. Talk out loud in public places and people will stay away from you, at least that used to be the case.
Now in the age of Bluetooth headsets that may not be true any longer. You can’t go out in public anymore without running into people holding invisible conversations. Sometimes when I ride the elevator I stick a finger in my ear and pretend that I am holding on my headset and then I make all sorts of comments.
“You tell the boys back at Langley if they don’t patch me through immediately there is going to be hell to pay.”
“Hello G-d, It is me Jack. I’d like it very much if you could see that this elevator doesn’t break again. The last time that happened I got stuck in here for six hours.”
“You tell Spector that he owes me big for making that jury go crazy.”
You get the picture. Anyway, the manifestation of the urge to speak out loud while I type probably has some sort of medical term. If you’ll excuse me I am going to go search for it.
It is vocabulary time again. Here is part one, part two and part three.
tem·er·ar·i·ous (tÄ•m‘É™-râr‘Ä“-É™s)
adj. Presumptuously or recklessly daring[L. tentigo, -inis, a tension, lecherousness, fr. tendere, tentum, to stretch.]
1. Stiff; stretched; strained. [Obs.] Johnson.
2. Lustful, or pertaining to lust. [Obs.] B. Jonson.
n.[L., from urinari to plunge under water, to dive.]
One who dives under water in search of something, as for pearls; a diver.u·su·fruct (yÅ«‘zÉ™-frÅkt‘, -sÉ™-)
n.The right to use and enjoy the profits and advantages of something belonging to another as long as the property is not damaged or altered in any way.
My car is full of junk. It is crammed full of all sorts of stuff. Things, items, knick-knacks, they are all in there. I need to do something about it, like call the Wonder Pets…What is gonna work? Teamwork!
The crap in the car is stressing me out. I keep pulling more things out and yet it feels like a bottomless pit. Apparently I have stumbled onto a secret hiding place for children’s toys. It is like the secret elephant burial ground. I can’t believe the things that the kids have stowed away. Any time now I am going to find my old metal Bionic Man lunch box because I just know that they have buried it in between the seats.
This is not fun. I am not supposed to have the clown car of junk. I clean this sucker out once a week so that this does not happen. Yet somehow the items migrate back in. Part of the problem is that there is a basket full of work materials that has to stay in the car. It is part of the challenge of having multiple offices.
It is a little embarrassing to see this much come flying out of it, but then again maybe I should be impressed. Maybe I should be happy that so much can be stored in this vehicle. Maybe I should write Honda some sort of testimonial letter. Then again, maybe not.
All I know is that the theme from Sanford and Son seems to come on every time I open the door. I’d write more, but it seems that Lamont is here and in need of my assistance. You’ll excuse me while I get back to work.
I would have done this differently, but it is interesting nonetheless. I found the video here.
In short I don’t like being told that I am incapable of controlling my sexual desires and that is where essays like this always go, one way or another. Tznius my ass. There are reasons why clothing may not be appropriate, but this is just…
The law in Ontario already allows women to inappropriately bare themselves, but most women clearly prefer to keep their clothes on.
If nudity is what one desires, there are many nudist colonies and secluded places where nudity will not be disrespectful to others who don’t wish to see nakedness. Why would someone feel the need to bare private body parts in public except to gain attention?
It is not in the best interests of women or men for women to expose themselves. Parents don’t want their children to have to see that. Wives don’t want their husbands to see that.
Many men may want to see that, and you will probably gain their attention by exposing yourself, but there are also many men who are committed to their wives and families who don’t want to be tempted by someone who isn’t their own wife and the mother of their children.
Breasts are a beautiful, sexual part of the body and inexplicably desired by men. Expecting men to stop being attracted to breasts is an unnatural and unrealistic demand. It would be as silly as asking a dog to stop liking rawhide.
There is nothing perverted or filthy about men being attracted to women’s breasts, or about parents wanting to protect their children from sexuality that belongs in the realm of adults.
We need to show respect to others, and showing respect means keeping private body parts covered.