Sexual frustration. Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier being gay. Or bisexual. You know, play for one team when the other team sucks (oo err) and then switch back.
A gay friend once explained it to me thus:
A gay man is still a MAN. His attitudes about sex and relationships are the same as a straight man.
Brilliant! Which basically means there’s no beating around the bush, no playing coy or hard to get, no suffering the humiliation of finally getting her to go out with you only for her to say to you, “You are such a *great friend* to me”.
Nope, none of that shit. Just straight to the point – wanna boink? And you know how a guy would not mind sleeping with a female friend? Come on you know it. Haven’t you watch “When Harry Met Sally“? No man can be real friends with a woman because of the sex thing. Somewhere in the back of our heads, we’ve contemplated it. And we weren’t even drunk.
So yeah straight men wouldn’t mind sleeping with their female friends, but their female friends may have a problem with that, unless they play that game which is rare. Because someone’s feelings always get hurt blah blah.
But gay men don’t have that “friends” problem. No stupid ladder theory for them. Friend, schmeind. “You look hot. Let’s have sex. If the sex is crap, then we can still be friends.” Well at least that’s how I imagine gay men would behave. I haven’t watched enough of “Queer as Folk” to know – watching men kissing and fondling each other just doesn’t do it for me. That is, I would watch it more if it weren’t for the gay sex scenes. Ironic!
I think I lost my point four paragraphs ago. Oh yes, I think gay men have it easier because they don’t have to deal with women’s mind games. If they want sex, they can have it – just like a woman actually. Though I could be wrong. I’d hate it if I were to turn gay and then realise that gay men are just like women, head games and all except with penises, no breasts, and rough skin. *shudder*
Ugh. I am gonna go watch some straight porn to reaffirm myself now.
As I was playing with my friends’ 20-month old daughter yesterday, they remarked that I seemed to have a knack with kids. Yes I’m quite good with kids *ahem* but I’m usually best with just the one baby. Two would be my maximum. Anymore than that and I’m out of the room.
Though I must admit it was fun and satisfying seeing a baby smile and laugh at my simplest gestures. It was enlightening also to see that what may be trivial to adults can mean the world to an innocent child. It sure does put things in perspective.
Still, I don’t think myself quite at that stage yet – I’m not ready to procreate and I don’t know if I’ll ever be. It bugs me because I am meant to continue the family line – my dad was the first son, and I’m also the first son AND first grandson with the family name.
I know having a baby is serious business and that I should not have one for the wrong reasons. Nonetheless I feel responsible, and pressure even though my parents has never nagged me about it. My mom has nagged about marriage but neither her nor dad has ever thought to say to me, “You really ought to impregnate someone.”
At this point in time, I can’t even imagine sharing my bed permanently with someone so fatherhood is the furthest thought from my mind. Will I change? Should I change? Do I want to change?
A Toyota commercial shown in Japan. The concept is of the components that make up a car being humans. Quite a clever ad. You just have to get past the initial awkwardness of seeing a man sitting on a car seat that IS a man.
This, ladies and gentleman is what you would call a “fuckwit”. Gary Anderton, a politician who is half-Asian himself, disparages an Indian doctor, a Chinese doctor, the Lord Mayor of Melbourne who is Chinese, and Aboriginals in general. And how did he do it? On a BLOG!
Mr Anderton tells in an entry called “Anglo-Saxon Doctor Please” of going to the GP and being seen by “an Indian doctor, of all things, that absolutely stunk and obviously received a full fee degree. In other words, (he had) no idea.”
After asking the clinic for an “Australian doctor, that could speak English and was youngish (hopefully female)”, he was treated by an “Asain (sic), male, 50s, and had a speech lingo (sic) as good as Melbourne Lord Mayor (John) So”.
The fact that he’s racist notwithstanding, what kind of politician would openly air their prejudices out in public like that? And doing so while trying to represent Lyndhurst in the upcoming Victorian state election – a highly multicultural area, “with more than 50 per cent of electors born overseas, including large Vietnamese, Cambodian, Sri Lankan and Indian populations.”
What kind of politician? A stupid one who can’t even use the English language properly that’s what. And would you want a person with such a degree of self-loathing to represent you in Parliament? I didn’t think so.
Step away from the keyboard. Nice and easy.
(wegotcards.com)
It constantly amazes me that there are still people who do not know the consequences of having an unprofessional or nasty conversation over email. Unlike words from our mouths, emails along with voicemails and text messages do not just dissapear. They get passed around, and around, and around …
Past examples include the Sydney secretaries who argued over a sandwich, the London banker who boasted to his colleagues about his sex life in Korea, and of course Claire Swire who though that “cum was yum”.
The latest example of email stupidity involves a 24 year old lawyer from Boston who turns down a job offer which she had verbally accepted, in the most ungracious way possible.
Dear Attorney Korman,
At this time, I am writing to inform you that I will not be accepting your offer.
After careful consideration, I have come to the conclusion that the pay you are offering would neither fulfill me nor support the lifestyle I am living in light of the work I would be doing for you. I have decided instead to work for myself, and reap 100% of the benefits that I sow.
Thank you for the interviews.
Dianna L. Abdala, Esq.
The email exchange between her and her would-be employer is pure gold. Read the rest of it at Gawker.
Via the comments at Gawker, I stumbled onto another example of how not to use modern communication. This one involves a guy who went on a date with a woman, paid for dinner, and then suspected that the date didn’t go too well at all so he decided to email the woman asking her to pay for her half! Heh. Classic.
From: Darren Sherman
Date: Jun 19, 2006 8:48 PM
Subject: Date
To: xxxxx@xxxxxx.com
:
Cc:
Sorry things didn’t work out. I guess you changed your
mind.
Here is my address for the $50 bucks: East Street, Apt. 504
NY NY 10028
Take care,
Darren
The rest of it, including sounds clips of the voice-mails that he left on the woman’s answering machine is also pure comedic GOLD. You can find this little story over at PR. Differently.
Met her in the general purpose computing lab of the Commerce faculty.
I had overheard her having computer problems, so I helped.
Small talk and flirting ensued.
Bumped into her a few times at the cafeteria. More flirting.
She told a mutual friend she liked me. Mutual friend then put into place a series of events and coincidences to push us together more often.
Hooked up officially in a nightclub.
Woke up next morning – “Wow I have a girlfriend!”
The Good:
She was more experienced. She taught me “a lot”.
Got along with my friends.
Wow, my first girlfriend!
The Bad:
Got along too well with my friends. My female friends said to me, “Your girlfriend is creeping me out. She’s trying too hard to be my friend.”
Jealous and possesive. “Who was that you just talked to? How long have you known her? What did you talk about?”
Suspicious. Went through my stuff like it was normal. Once took out a letter from inside my zipped-up bag and said, “Who’s this girl who wrote you this letter?”
Tried to make me jealous.
The Breakup:
*sunny day sitting by the river*
Her: What are you thinking?
Me: Nothing.
Her: We promised to be honest with each other.
Me: Yeah I know.
Her: So what are you thinking?
Me: Really, nothing.
Her: You have to be thinking something.
Me: Nothing. My mind is blank!
Her: Come on, tell me.
Me: Ok you really want to know what I think?!
*famous last words*
Moral of the story: when your boyfriend tells you that he’s not thinking anything, don’t push it.
I’m glad she made it easier for me on the day though. I didn’t even have to plan the breakup! Woohoo!
