Tag Archives: Opinion (Editorial & Commentary)

Should Irwin Have Changed After Kids?

So, earlier I asked if you have the right to ask a risk-taker to tone down their lifestyle once you get hooked to them.
My opinion? No. You do not. And if they tell you you can go ahead and tell them how to change; don’t. You’d fucking with what oughtn’t be fucked.
In a nutshell.
My posting was inspired by the death of Steve Irwin. There are those who apprently think he should’ve “settled down” since he had kids. Yeah, as a kid, the first thing I wanna know is that my father gave up almost everything he loved so he could raise me — sit in a fucking armchair with a remote and tell me how he “used to be like that” once.
Terri Irwin got a precious gift that most of us might never, ever, ever receive: She fell in love with someone who kept all the qualities that made him so loveable as the person he was when they first met. Bloody sweet, that. And she had it for a while. And then it got snatched. Love happens, death happens, it all is what it is.
Life’s a truckload of hurts some days and there’s no getting around that.
The point is, it’s hard enough to be ourselves in the face of everyday life. It’s harder still to remember who we are when we get lost in the arms of someone else. To be able to hang on to your identity despite your love for someone else and your wish to be with them, why, that’s as downright admirable as it gets.
To hell with those who think otherwise.

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In other Croc-Hunter news, let me go on record to say that, while Germaine Greer periodically says something intelligent, I:
a) think she can be a complete twat who has done as much to hinder feminism as she has to further it. She’s arrogant, dismissive of men, flighty, inconsistent, hypocritical, and far too militant for my tastes. (Despite my believing I’m a feminist, thank you very much. Ain’t no fucking eunuch here, baby.)
b) think she’s a far bigger bitch than I’d thought before now that I’ve read her comments on the death of Steve Irwin.
I do not believe that to be a strong woman I need to demoralize men. I believe that, as a strong, independent chick, I can exalt men in my life and cater to them as I wish, because I fucking well know who I am when I go to bed at night (most of the time; we all get a little too lost in our relationships some of the time). I take no backseat to any man. But I’ll hold the door open for ’em if they’ll let me, because I have nothing to prove. I’m empowered by the mere fact that I don’t need to seek power, all right?
I’d get into my whole beef about how feminism has been executed, but I’m too tired and it’d take too damned long. Suffice to say that while I fight for my equality, I don’t think it needs to come at the cost of emasculating men. There’s room enough for us both, and I don’t think chicks like Greer understand that concept, but then I don’t like her enough to read her work. I listen to others gripe about her and praise her, so I’m ignorant, but by choice.

Oy vey, you searched for what?

This one sounds really innocuous, until you start thinking of the implications of language. In reviewing my webstats just now, I came across someone who landed on me via this search string:
“How do I position myself when having sex with my honeymoon partner?”
Honeymoon partner. Wow. Bet that’ll be an unbridled night of torrid passion. Honeymoon partner. Not lover, not mate, not even spouse. Honeymoon partner.
One should make love on a honeymoon, don’t you think? Not “have sex”? Unfortunately, I don’t know what page they landed on, since I’m too cheap to pay for a full stats package and the info switches over too quickly. Sigh.
If you can’t call the person you’re about to supposedly spend the rest of your life with your lover, you might want to double-think those vows. Lover. I absolutely love having a lover. Not just a boyfriend or a partner or whatever, but a lover. Doesn’t it just roll off the tongue? Don’t you get a little hot just thinking of the word? Isn’t it almost… tasty?
But having sex with a honeymoon partner? I mean, it sounds like there’s gonna be a chaperone standing in the corner, throwing out coaching lessons as they go.

“No, no. To the left. The left. There you go… right. Now again. Again. Deeper. Oh, come on, do it like you mean it. Deeper. Yep! That’s the ticket. Let’s have some more of that! Fabulous. You’re almost getting the hang of… oh, slippage. What a shame. Just when you were fulfilling your potential, too! All right, let’s try that again. From the top.”

Sigh. And this is why people need to stop overthinking things and go more with their feeling. Life’s too short to be clinical.

Rights and Freedoms

Money, they say, is the root of all evil. Arguable, at the best of times.
Today, though, a coalition of 18 companies are telling us that they’re gonna put a stop to that tree of evil when it comes to child pornography. While child porn is, in my opinion, one of the worst things a human can be a part of, it’s also a multi-billion dollar industry. Where there is money, there is a way.
That coalition — including the likes of Visa, Mastercard, PayPal, Wells Fargo, e-gold, Microsoft, and more — has vowed to stamp out the commercial viability of child pornography. Payments to such sites will be halted. Cease and desist orders shall be issued.
I suppose I should stand up and cheer. Hurrah for the good guys! Instead, I’m sitting here thinking “What the fuck took you so long?”

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In OTHER news… more reasons to love living under the Maple Leaf. I was chatting yesterday with a new arrival here in Vancouver, an internet sex-industry business guy who’s moved to Canada to get out from under the repressive sexual climate that the United States is becoming.
He illustrated his point with this story. The gist is this. You can’t buy a sex toy in Mississippi.
A double-barrel shotgun? Sure! A high-power vibrator? Fuck you, you sick fuck! You’re gonna do WHAT with that thing? Up the ASS? Holy shit, you sodomizing sick son of a bitch! Henry, get me my rifle!
I just can’t even begin to understand how a country –that’s clearly smoking crack– can purport to be “the land of the free” and you can’t even buy a fucking toy to use on yourself in the privacy of your own goddamned home.
And where the fuck are the people? There are those who are out there saying what needs to be said. There are those trying to fight for freedoms for all of you, and maybe you don’t think the Right to Vibe is up there with the rest of your freedoms, but how can a line be drawn? You are free, or you are not. But where in the FUCK are the REST of you? Where are YOUR voices?
America is sometimes the greatest illusion in the world. There’s the dream of America, and there’s the reality of America, and sometimes some of us just wish y’all would open your fucking eyes and see which is which.
Demand your freedom. Demand that your government not just try to pose as the land of the free, but that it seeks to define laws that are inspired by the spirit of what your constitution claims that it is.
If there’s anything more heart-breaking than the APATHY of America today, I wish someone would tell me what it is. As a Canadian, it breaks my fucking heart to see the changing of your nation from across the 49th parallel.
Rise up and stab ’em with your plastic forks, people, ‘cos it ain’t getting any better any time soon. You have voices. Fucking use them.

The Failure to Fuck

impotence4

Not too long ago, an Italian man was ordered to pay his now-ex-wife damages for failing to disclose to her before they tied the knot that he couldn’t get it up.
Apparently the courts have told him he’s guilty of abusing her “right to sexuality.”
Now this is why I believe in getting sex out of the way. Pfft. I mean, wait? Yeah, that’s gonna happen.
But you gotta wonder: You’re abstaining, but you make out, right?
So, there you are, you’re makin’ out, gropin’ a little, wandering around, pressing together, getting all heated up… and you never once notice he doesn’t have a stiffy in response?
Honey, do you have any powers of observation?
What chick, getting kissed against a wall, doesn’t notice a guy’s degree of interest? Which chick doesn’t judge its rigidity at that time? And if the guy ain’t putting it out there in a covert yet obvious way? Something’s up, and it ain’t Dick.
Honestly, it’s a pity they’re divorced. They seem impeccably matched.