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Mar. 23rd, 2006 10:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7BWAHAHA. Seen in a friend's journal, I'm not hotlinking but I'm going to provide a link to go read this strip about Bill Napoli: He's a senator in South Dakota who believes women can't make our own decisions. So whenever I'm faced with one, I call him at work: 605-348-7373.
Heh heh heh. Ahhh. Yep. Good times. His home phone number's in there too. ((605) 341-2370, if you're interested.)
Seen in![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ethangilchrist's journal, but in an f-locked post, so...
edit: We've determined that the original is from minimumsecurity.net:mcmillan. Thanks, ethangilchrist!
Also amusing is Smart Bitches Trashy Books' campaign to formalize the definition of the new verb Napoli through a judicious Googlebomb-style campaign. Honestly I'm not very political but he just took such an unholy amount of detail in salaciously describing the Only Scenario In Which An Abortion Is Acceptable-- I mean, say they didn't anally penetrate this religious young woman, but a little oral, I mean, is that "sodomized as bad as you can make it"? I mean, what if they just weren't very imaginative with that broom handle? What if their hearts weren't in it? Maybe it was as bad as SHE thought they could make it, but if they interviewed the perp he said "but I went easy on her because she was so religious" and thus reveals that it was not, actually, as bad as he could make it?
Or what if she wasn't actually saving herself for marriage? What if she was saving herself for the right man but not necessarily a church wedding? I mean, what if she was Buddhist? She's still religious, right? Does that count? Or what if she was religious but not a churchgoer? Who can testify to her religiousness if she doesn't have a regular confessor?
Seriously, will the cops have a form you can fill out, with tick marks: Saving Self For Marriage (note any exceptions with explanations: a) But this one time I was drunk, b) But he lied to me and I thought we were getting married), Sodomized: a) with broom handle, b) orally, c) anally, d) with trauma... and like, you have to get twenty-five out of the thirty?
And how badly "messed-up" do you have to be? Who determines that? I mean, what about "would be okay except this forced, unwanted pregnancy will end my dream of missionary work in Africa"? Does that count as "messed-up"? What if it only ends your dream of finishing your degree in accounting?
Anyhow. The world abounds with motherfuckers, literal and metaphorical, but really I was going to write about non-political things, things that possibly make sense. Maybe later: I have the day off.
And also when I got home yesterday, weary and footsore and also backsore, there were six Cadbury Eggs sitting on my desk because I'd told Z I finished my secret stash of them that morning (I made six last for over two weeks! How bomb is my self-control?), and Z had done every dish in the sink.
And over dinner we were talking about getting stars for good behavior-- he was reading some nutrition facts and he was like, "you should get more than two servings of fruit from an eight-ounce glass of 100% grape juice! You should get two servings and a gold star"-- and i said we should give each other stars. He asked how many stars he'd get, and I ticked them off:
One for the snuggles this morning, one for the sex, one for making dinner, and TWO for the Cadbury eggs-- that's five, just today!
And he said, What about having done every dish in the sink?
And I blinked at him.
You did?
I hadn't noticed.
I looked. "No no, honey," I said. "You don't get gold stars for that. You get oral sex for that."
Sometimes, you just can't fuck around with stickers.
Heh heh heh. Ahhh. Yep. Good times. His home phone number's in there too. ((605) 341-2370, if you're interested.)
Seen in
ethangilchrist's journal, but in an f-locked post, so... edit: We've determined that the original is from minimumsecurity.net:
mcmillan. Thanks, ethangilchrist!Also amusing is Smart Bitches Trashy Books' campaign to formalize the definition of the new verb Napoli through a judicious Googlebomb-style campaign. Honestly I'm not very political but he just took such an unholy amount of detail in salaciously describing the Only Scenario In Which An Abortion Is Acceptable-- I mean, say they didn't anally penetrate this religious young woman, but a little oral, I mean, is that "sodomized as bad as you can make it"? I mean, what if they just weren't very imaginative with that broom handle? What if their hearts weren't in it? Maybe it was as bad as SHE thought they could make it, but if they interviewed the perp he said "but I went easy on her because she was so religious" and thus reveals that it was not, actually, as bad as he could make it?
Or what if she wasn't actually saving herself for marriage? What if she was saving herself for the right man but not necessarily a church wedding? I mean, what if she was Buddhist? She's still religious, right? Does that count? Or what if she was religious but not a churchgoer? Who can testify to her religiousness if she doesn't have a regular confessor?
Seriously, will the cops have a form you can fill out, with tick marks: Saving Self For Marriage (note any exceptions with explanations: a) But this one time I was drunk, b) But he lied to me and I thought we were getting married), Sodomized: a) with broom handle, b) orally, c) anally, d) with trauma... and like, you have to get twenty-five out of the thirty?
And how badly "messed-up" do you have to be? Who determines that? I mean, what about "would be okay except this forced, unwanted pregnancy will end my dream of missionary work in Africa"? Does that count as "messed-up"? What if it only ends your dream of finishing your degree in accounting?
Anyhow. The world abounds with motherfuckers, literal and metaphorical, but really I was going to write about non-political things, things that possibly make sense. Maybe later: I have the day off.
And also when I got home yesterday, weary and footsore and also backsore, there were six Cadbury Eggs sitting on my desk because I'd told Z I finished my secret stash of them that morning (I made six last for over two weeks! How bomb is my self-control?), and Z had done every dish in the sink.
And over dinner we were talking about getting stars for good behavior-- he was reading some nutrition facts and he was like, "you should get more than two servings of fruit from an eight-ounce glass of 100% grape juice! You should get two servings and a gold star"-- and i said we should give each other stars. He asked how many stars he'd get, and I ticked them off:
One for the snuggles this morning, one for the sex, one for making dinner, and TWO for the Cadbury eggs-- that's five, just today!
And he said, What about having done every dish in the sink?
And I blinked at him.
You did?
I hadn't noticed.
I looked. "No no, honey," I said. "You don't get gold stars for that. You get oral sex for that."
Sometimes, you just can't fuck around with stickers.
