Monday, January 29, 2007

also, Barry White

Mark and I have been having a protracted and zoomorphic myspace discussion about whether he more resembles the stone cold fox (my opinion) or the confused baboon (his). It has culminated in an article he sent me which opines that women are caulderons of unspecific lust:

Pornography studios might do well to take a tip from the Discovery Channel. According to a recent study, women are aroused by watching monkey sex. Sure, they're more aroused by watching human sex, but the loving habits of the bonobo are enough to bring out the primate in any civilized lady.

The study, conducted by Meredith Chivers of the Center for Addiction and Mental Health and J. Michael Bailey of Northwestern University, was published in the October issue of Biological Psychology. The researchers found that while straight men are only aroused by females of the human variety, straight women are equally aroused by all human sexual activity, including lesbian, heterosexual and homosexual male sex, and at least somewhat aroused by nonhuman sex.

Each subject involved in the report watched seven two-minute clips of sex: six scenes involving humans and one of bonobos. The subject constantly monitored and noted his or her subjective arousal. The subject was also affixed with a device that measured genital arousal–penis circumference for the men and vaginal pulse amplitude for the women.

All eighteen men were heterosexual and all reported subjective arousal only during the scenes with women. The objective data matched their reports: Images of our evolutionary ancestors do not make a man retrogress to Homo erectus. The eighteen heterosexual women reported greatest subjective arousal during the heterosexual scene, but their bodies reported they were less naturally selective.

Barbara Bartlik, a psychiatry professor at Cornell, said she was not alarmed by the women's response to the nonhuman stimuli.
"I don't know why this has surprised everybody that women get aroused watching humans and animals," she says. "Animals, because of the way they function in an uninhibited manner...can be very arousing to look at when they copulate."
However, Bartlik was surprised that the men did not have the same response as the women.
"I would wonder if the men weren't concerned about being labeled as homosexual or perverse by being interested in these things, and therefore their erections were inhibited," she said.

Chivers hopes to discover what specific aspect of a visual stimulus causes women to become aroused. Some experts believe mentally labeling an act as sexual arouses women. Others, including Chivers, believe innately recognized sexual features such as an erect penis, even out of their usual human context, stimulate women. She said she did not yet know how similar to humans an animal would need to be in order to elicit a sexual response from women.

So..........

1. You just know that the "device" for measuring "vaginal pulse amplitude" is some kind of dildo.

2. As if men were not desperately thinking about baseball and naked grandmas during the man-love and monkey scenes. I mean, they put a penis measurement device on someone and show them porn, and it's pretty obvious what they're trying to find out.

3. I would not leave Barbara Bartlik alone with my pets.

4. Things that also probably raise "vaginal pulse amplitude":

Babies
King Kong
Sumo wrestling
Bicycles
God impregnating Mary through the ear
Manatees mating
Bees fertilizing flowers
Acorns
Rising bread
Spores dropping from the delicate underbelly of fern leaves
Close-ups of the internal combustion engine
Home Renovation Shows
The Big Bang Theory

Thursday, January 25, 2007

what we all want

When I was younger I used to want to find a secret passageway to a world where there were unicorns. I was convinced it was in my backyard somewhere. I used to want a swimming pool and a tennis court and to know how to play tennis. I used to want to have a convertible. I wanted to be pretty and willowy and be an international model. I used to want my black belt in karate. I used to want to be able to buy anything I wanted, anytime I wanted it. I used to want to get lost in the jungle to see if I'd survive. I used to want to play guitar in a rock band. I wanted to be in love and I also wanted to be able to kiss every beautiful person I saw. I wanted my own boat to sail around the world. I used to want a Ph.D. I wanted to have a minimum wage job in Spain, write books and tell strangers my name was Lola. I used to want to climb Everest and also freeze my tongue to the south pole.


Now all I want.......ALL I want....is to stop gouging my hand with a screwdriver at work.

Seriously. There aren't enough band-aids in the world.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

999 ways to say I love you

Hello,

So, my little blog tracker thing says right now that there have been 999 people here...rolling over to a thousand by the time you read this, you doll. That's not even hits, that's PEOPLE, people. You wonderful peeps.

This makes me feel giddy and reflective...last year I thought of starting a blog, decided my life wasn't exciting enough (which is ironic really....last year? student, professional bellydancer, actively volunteering, winning mad awards and travelling. This year? Boring.) then finally decided to just put out or get out, as they say. And it's been a pretty fun ride, even though some people persist on not realizing that everything in here is so tongue in cheek I look like a chipmunk storing up for winter.

Some Trivia:

  • The url springs not from the fact that I am the prettiest vox of the populus, but rather from a song lyric in Ted Leo and the Pharmacists' "Timorous Me".
  • The title is Buy Me A Pony because it's the first thing I remember asking, and will probably be the last.
  • The mandate of Buy Me A Pony is threefold:

1. Feelings are boring, kissing is awesome.

2. Hyperbole is an indicator of divine origin.

3. I like attention.

Anyway, I'm entirely sure I do not know 1000 people. Even though some of you have probably been counted many times in that figure. So, if anyone out there is reading this, and I do not know you, please feel free to leave a comment introducing yourself. I am sure that we can be the best of friends. I know you're shy, but think about it. Yes, you.

Everyone else? Just keep all arms and legs inside until I have come to a complete stop. And muchas gracias.

Monday, January 22, 2007

the marshmellow bits of this weekend

My favorite part of the Found Film Fest, which is like Found Magazine but with obviously, film:

Never before seen footage of Timothy Treadwell, kissing the belly of a seal for about 8 minutes straight. Pausing to say, "I would die for you!". Then back to the kissing.

My favorite part of the wrap party for the High Performance Rodeo, Called "Zaireeka: A Listening Experience", consisting of four different Flaming Lips Albums being played at once in the Big Secret Theater:

Being awkwardly hit on by this guy who was so intent he almost followed me into the womens' washroom. He later took my hand in his the way men do when they are going to kiss it....he did not kiss my hand, but also did not let go, and still tried to gesture with his arms while talking. I had to say, "um, you're kind of twisting my arm."

My favorite part of drinking afterwards with Charles, Matt and Mark:

The fact that they're all so darn charming. Also having to take back my fur hat from Charles after he had been perching it on his arm and petting it for half and hour. "I'm sorry, but you're starting to look like Paris Hilton."

My favorite part of having to stagger back home through downtown in sub-zero temperatures with Kaylen:

Me: Yup, my pantalones are definitely falling down.
Kaylen: That's the cutest thing you've said all day.

My favorite part of shaking off the hangover the next day to attend the Bridal Convention with Kathleen:

A fashion show where the models were all wearing ill-fitting gowns and walking like men. By the end we had nicknamed them all: Jiggles, Akimbo, Foxy Brown, Jailbait, and Give Me A Sandwich. Also yelling "take it off!" and "show us your teats!". Plus making fun of the coked up designer who said Canadians are smouldering volcanos.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

the most fun you can have at Home Depot with your boots on

This afternoon, while waiting for Kathleen's new deadbolts to be re-keyed, we were browsing the aisles when that song (you know it) "I'm The One Who Wants To Be With You" by Mr. Big comes on. I walk over to where Kath is, singing and making expansive hand gestures that indicate how much it is I, who wants the be with Her.

We then spend a few minutes making the moment perfect by slow dancing the way we did back in Grade Six when this song first set a fire in all our hearts and loins. Namely, with arms out absolutely straight, swaying minimally from side to side, and making no eye contact whatsoever.

We got a few looks, especially from this one lady. I couldn't tell if it was a frown that said, "have some more respect for the mailbox and lock aisle of Home Depot" or if it said, "my those lesbians are becoming bold".

Either way, if I made one old Asian woman's day more surreal, then I have been a success.

despite the wallet with the skulls on it, I mean

So two events happened simultaneously last night: I got out of my bath, and Samantha tried to push down the garbage in her garbage can, forgetting that she threw away a razor blade.

(And we're not talking like a shaving razor, with pink daisies...we're talking about the real deal)

So we set off for the hospital at midnight, me dripping water and Sam dripping blood.

When we finally got there, we're checking in and explaining and the triage nurse asks....."so you're saying this was an accident though, yes?"

Look, I know that the words "razor blade" plus black-haired teenager probably set off some alarm bells. But lady, we're from Bragg Creek. We only get so emo, and no emo-er. The worst we're guilty of out here is bad poetry with the words "inevitable", "desolate" and an ABAB rhyme scheme.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

another year, better dressed, just as drunk

Happy Freaking Belated New Year

Laine, me, Marsha....stunning and conveniently organized by height

This is entirely an unnecessary amount of force to open a cracker. But note how well it matches my dress.

Monday, January 08, 2007

feeding on externally validated self-esteem antelopes

Ooh, ooh. Look what I randomly found. I love it, love it, when people try and cover up their bitter rants by presenting it as an astute sociological observation. Especially when using esoteric metaphors.

I’m not dating a hot girl anymore. In two senses:1.) I broke up with my attractive girlfriend. (ed. note: "My girlfriend broke up with me") 2.) I’ve decided not to date a hot girl again.

HOT GIRLS = BAD. LESS HOT GIRLS = GOOD. (ahem)

Dating a hot girl is great, since you’re constantly thinking about having sex with her, and you get to. It’s really fantastic. BUT!! (and this is a big BUT) it comes at a cost. Gather ’round, children.

Girls are like starving jackals when it comes to complements. Complement them on their shoes, and they’ll stave off complement starvation for a little bit….but they’ll need to feed again. Soon. Hot girls are the fat jackals that get food tossed to them. They go through their day being admired, stared at, and complemented for everything they do from buying a bagel to passing gas (”Dude, that hot girl farted.” “AWESOME!”) so they begin to define themselves by their hotness. Because they’re validated so regularly, hot girls get a self-esteem defined by others, and a sense of entitlement that could match your average NBA player.

Not-as-hot girls don’t have this problem. They learn to validate themselves through their own self confidence and self worth. A complement here and there is nice, but they are the fit, scavenging complement jackals that can make it through a harsh winter without any “Hey you’re hot”’s.

So, less-than-totally-hot girls of the world unite. I am going to date you. Like, uh, even more than before.


So, less-than-hot girls, unite! This man, who is a total prize, is going to date all of you in an apparently united way. I don't know how he expects to lure the pack of you in, seeing as you can make it through a harsh complement winter.

Ha ha ha...the worst thing of all is, he's completely correct. Speaking for all hot girls everywhere, I'd like to say: "Complement me right now or I'll gnaw the tires off your Landrover."

"Dude, that hot girl is waiting to scavenge the gazelle corpse when the lions are through!"
"AWESOME!"

an evening with Captain Zigzag

The best thing about today was, Kaylen is finally home. Which meant we went right back to our old traditions, namely haunting Higher Ground and watching too many adult swim cartoons. When we arrived at Higher Ground many tables were occupied, so we asked the old gent leaving if we could take his table. He stayed behind to take our dainty hands in his and ask our names, and introduce himself as Captain Zigzag. Which turned into an entirely-too-long conversation full of some little gems.

CZ: "...when my daughter was born, I got to be the babycatcher. It was harder than you'd think. When babies pop out they're all red and wet and covered in goo..."
Me: "Buddy, we're trying to have coffee here."
----
Me: "Are you a real Captain?"
CZ: "Well it's a funny story there. You see..."
Me: "But are you a real Captain?"
CZ: "I'm telling the story! You see..."
Kaylen: "Does it involve a boat at some point? Or else we're not interested"
Me: "Or a starship"
----
CZ: "...so I went to sea with hardly any training, no navigation, only a few courses. Our first night out, there was a huge storm. It was a real trial by fire."
Me: "...or, water."
----
CZ: "Then I quit smoking for a long time. When my wife died, I wondered, should I take up smoking again? Or not take up smoking?"
Me: "This is a lot like Hamlet."
CZ: "I love Shakespeare! Are you familiar with the speech from "As you Like It"?
(Proceeds to launch into recital, with arm gestures)
"The infant, mewling and puking in his nurses arms!"
Kaylen: "Ugh, no babies"
CZ: (pausing) Well, Shakespeare was quite visceral..."
Me: "No viscera either"
(continuing)
"Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel, creeping like a snail, unwillingly to school!"
Kaylen: "Snails don't go to school."
---
Kaylen: "So I take it you were a drama major."
CZ: "I'm trying to explain that we are all actors, on the stage of life!"
Kaylen: ""No, but seriously..."
----
CZ: "Now I work as a general contractor......of life!"
Me: "Is everything metaphorical with you?"
----
Marc, later on: "I work as a general contractor...on your mom"
----
CZ: "I gave up my SUV, now I'm totally green. I ride my bike everywhere, or take the bus. Hardly use any gas"
Kaylen: "Why not, it's there to be used"
Me: "Yeah, those dinosaurs died for our sins"
Kaylen: "Screw the dolphins"


As you can tell, after the initial amusement we were giving off "please go away" signals that weren't having much affect. After he finally left we breathed a sigh of relief, only to have him come back to fetch his keys. He starts talking again and I, sensing a clever escape, start talking to Travis at the next table. 20 minutes of inane crazy old man chatter go by, until Kaylen starts getting a little desperately mean.

CZ: "I get it! You want me to stop talking and leave you alone! I'm sensing with my intuitive third eye that you wish I hadn't forgotten my keys! Well then. Au Revoir!"

Kaylen: ".....I hate you."

Sunday, January 07, 2007

'tis the season to get busy

Heavens to Betsy! You don't think it's a coincidence that most people's anniversary is around Christmas, do you? That's because it's the time of year for romance....the time of year when everyone leaves their house, goes to parties, becomes imbued with holiday spirit(s), and don't even get me started on Mistletoe.

Actually, I've never even seen Mistletoe, much less been kissed by anyone in its presence. Where the hell in the world do they grow Mistletoe? Am I even spelling that right? Isn't it poisonous? Is poison romantic? Many questions arise....

Anyway, this past holiday season has been especially romantic for those I roll with...Kathleen is getting married (wedlock! yowza), Kaylen is getting chapped lips somewhere in the USA, Laine and Marsha are getting to be tame, settled relationship ponies, and me?

Me, I've been dating. December was open dating season, on me. I shan't say too much, but it has ranged from the bad (one guy who, through a slight misunderstanding, is under the impression I am a raging racist), the strange (finding out you have the same last name as someone you're on a date with), and the (quite possibly, we'll see) good.

So, who am I sleeping with this month?

A frog.

My sister has gifted me with a fuzzy frog which contains a hot water bottle. It has been going to sleep with my icicle toes and making me happy. And I have to say, that until I can replace the hot water bottle with the supple thighs of some young thing, it's a pretty damn good bedfellow.

I hope you all are sharing your bed with someone, or something, equally pleasant.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

for my 50th blog we are doing something RACY

trust me that I don't want to become a loser who just links YouTube instead of writing....but for this i'll make an exception. Surprisingly catchy.


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