Posts Tagged ‘love’
Despite social distancing, quarantining and living every day like we’re in solitary confinement, we humans (and that’s most of you) remain desirous of intimate company. And although the invisibly menacing world of teeny-tiny viruses stand ready to devastate our dampest membranes (both in the lungs and in the loins), the sexual imperative will not be denied. The God-given urge to get naked with a loved one and perform the Heimlich maneuver is always in vogue – and in many other magazines too. And even though we are aware of the rational arguments against risky exposure, the absurd choreography of human love yearns to perform its irrational dance with a willing partner.
The underachieving and overbearing year of 2020 is driving us crazy. We were underprepared and overwhelmed by the Coronavirus, social injustices and the whole Aunt Jemima thing. By April, most of us were already asking for a “do over.” And as if 2020 hasn’t been cuckoo enough, you know what else drives us crazy? – the sex drive. It doesn’t so much drive us crazy as it drives us to distraction. You don’t even need a license to drive it – hormones will gladly steer the sex drive onto some very sketchy assfault. Since we all feel the urge to merge, it’s best to get a grip on yourself (or at least the steering wheel) and choose the merge lane that feels best for you.
BTW, I’ve never seen a hormone. I’ve heard one. But I’ve never seen one. Read the rest of this entry »
A recently discovered love letter from William Shakespeare to Gwendolyn Fairskin, the nanny of his children, has or “hath” (as we slide down the slippery slope of Olde English) sparked great controversy and set Shakespearian scholars scurrying to verify its authorship. Did the venerable Bard of Avon write this revealing mash note to Ms. Fairskin? Moreover, did he author any of the magnificent plays attributed to him? I leave that question to the Bureau of Weights and Measures or whoever authenticates these things. All I know is; me thinks tis true – that this steamy epistle is the work of Shakespeare in love.
And if its discovery wasn’t startling enough, manuscript antiquarians have discerned a note scrawled on the outside of the folded parchment believed to read: “Alloweth not David Hardiman of Reno-upon-Truckee any view upon this missive.” Well tough luck Willie. Your prescience will go unrewarded as I dutifully present your heartfelt spasms to an adoring audience of enthusiastic Shake-o-philes.
Posing as a calibration technician for the Bureau of Weights and Measures I’ve gained access to the randy letter and carefully translated it from its original Pig Latin (he wrote it in code in case it was intercepted) to the more familiar Olde English, thereby allowing it to exhibit the expected Shakespearian rhythm we’re all comfortable with. T’would be imprudent to translateth otherwise. Read the rest of this entry »
Ο The sweet adage “Make love, not war” has been dismissed as an impractical pipe dream, but it does beg the question: Would we rather be at each other’s throats, or at each other’s gonads? And as I look around at my fellow man I think the answer is obvious. War it is!
Ο It is often remarked by Culinary Anthropologists that some under-served populations do not have easy access to nutritious and affordable food. This condition is known as living in a food desert. For research-funding purposes however, this “condition” is sometimes rebranded as a “Food Desert Syndrome” – syndrome being a weighty term used by professors to in elevate “crappy grocery stores” to a social calamity so significant that they qualify for a National Science Foundation grant and can earn a 6-month sabbatical to study this self-created geography. Read the rest of this entry »