from hot to not
strictly talking sexual attraction, when faced with the question of what is the most UN-sexually attractive thing i can think of, the answer is easy. without hesitation i picture curly thin grey hair, skin that looks like beef jerky that was just in the microwave, false teeth, that's right... old ladies that have psudo hunchbacks, rely on canes to walk with and that smell. the old person smell. maybe that's what recooked human flesh smells like who knows. actually i don't see many old people being that flexible, maybe they just can't srcub under their arms, or their back and they have not cleaned areas of their wiltering bodies for years. that could perpetuate some sort of foul odors.
the ironic point here is not that old chicks aren't hot. (and when i say old, i mean retirement home old) the point is that these girls used to be the object of every man's sexual desire. men of all ages drool over 18 year old college bound babes. that span of 18 to a rapidly increasing 25 years of age is the hottest any girl will be. (surgery not accounted for here) and after that they start their descend to the most sexually unattractive being on the planet.
this validates the "mean old lady" stereotype. why are they mean, because before men would go out of their way to be nice and helpful with alternative motives of getting some "beautiful girl attention". now men go way out of their way to avoid some "nasty old lady" interaction. this makes for some bitter old ladies.
imagine the shock. sure it's a slow process and if life treats you right and you get lucky in your years (as a woman) you've got an old husband that will always want you and will be giving you the much needed attention that women feed off of. to know that you'll (as a girl being born) go from cute little baby, to someone's middleschool crush, to then the object of every 15-55year old men's sexual fantasies, to then austin power's means of keeping his erection from popping -austin powers's reference ::margaret thathcher on a cold day, margaret thather on a cold day!!::
but now old men, somehow never lose their sex appeal. even when an extremely old man hits on a young lady, she says no, but in her mind it's not as firm of a no if the old lady was hitting on a young guy. if that ever happened it'd probably make a pretty disturbing scene (another movie reference) see ::van wilder::
Friday, June 25, 2004
Labels:
Hunger 1
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
what does bill know
so i've picked up a book from work, "Bill Cosby Fatherhood". i just snagged it. i like bill cosby. he's great. and well i guess whatever he writes is fun. so i'm reading this and i realize it's about being a father. shit! i'm not in a position to think about this...
i'm sure i could get a girl pregnant but then before the baby was born i'd have the girl sick of me and all intrested in another guy, and those two would have a 2-5 year relationship, i guess i'm the perfect rebound man, i do that to women. but that's not my point, this is another blog for another day.... while i'm reading this (and i have only finished 2 chapters) it is talking about dealing with a pregnant delicate wife and how crazy it is that a kid comes out of her "honey we had a lizard!" he says. cause new born babies are freaking nasty looking. well to the non-parents they do. all slimy and gross looking.
he keeps busting a point, why the hell do we do this to ourselves. he hasn't answered it yet. but why? kids suck money, time, energy. he hasn't talked about the reward.
but this talk has made me think. sometimes i want to live the life of these guys. spend money on a child, wife, house. is that not life? it seems as though life is very much just that and through our superior intelligence we have found other meanings of life. but simplify and life is basically to survive and keep on living. having babies is the way to keep the human race going. so that's what we live for. to experience raising someone or more than just one. to me sounds like fun, i'd love to have a great wife and a great house with a great car and a great job raising some great kids. life would be great. but yes, we're so superior that that's just not enough. i need more.i need to get some other satisfaction from life. how? i dunno. maybe bill cosby will tell me. he did run a funny show for like 17 seasons (not confirmed) he was made fun of on the simpsons, and if the simpsons made fun of you, you've made it! hey! i've found that missing thing in my mid life! i need to make it on to the simpsons!!!
so i've picked up a book from work, "Bill Cosby Fatherhood". i just snagged it. i like bill cosby. he's great. and well i guess whatever he writes is fun. so i'm reading this and i realize it's about being a father. shit! i'm not in a position to think about this...
i'm sure i could get a girl pregnant but then before the baby was born i'd have the girl sick of me and all intrested in another guy, and those two would have a 2-5 year relationship, i guess i'm the perfect rebound man, i do that to women. but that's not my point, this is another blog for another day.... while i'm reading this (and i have only finished 2 chapters) it is talking about dealing with a pregnant delicate wife and how crazy it is that a kid comes out of her "honey we had a lizard!" he says. cause new born babies are freaking nasty looking. well to the non-parents they do. all slimy and gross looking.
he keeps busting a point, why the hell do we do this to ourselves. he hasn't answered it yet. but why? kids suck money, time, energy. he hasn't talked about the reward.
but this talk has made me think. sometimes i want to live the life of these guys. spend money on a child, wife, house. is that not life? it seems as though life is very much just that and through our superior intelligence we have found other meanings of life. but simplify and life is basically to survive and keep on living. having babies is the way to keep the human race going. so that's what we live for. to experience raising someone or more than just one. to me sounds like fun, i'd love to have a great wife and a great house with a great car and a great job raising some great kids. life would be great. but yes, we're so superior that that's just not enough. i need more.i need to get some other satisfaction from life. how? i dunno. maybe bill cosby will tell me. he did run a funny show for like 17 seasons (not confirmed) he was made fun of on the simpsons, and if the simpsons made fun of you, you've made it! hey! i've found that missing thing in my mid life! i need to make it on to the simpsons!!!
Labels:
Hunger 1
Friday, June 18, 2004
expectations
a while ago my family from iran came over to visit for a few months. my grandma, aunt, and uncle. once again my father's family would all be under the same roof. (with the exception of my grandfather, but he has long since passed away.) i has seen my grandmother once before, as well as my aunt. my uncle i had never met before. this was an exciting time for me. the fact that they all speak farsi as a first language and their english is as broken as it can break makes it difficult to communicate. but having extended family around is something that i feel i have less of than most of my peers. last time my grandma came over i was in grade school. she brought me an allah. a gold neclace with a pendant that says allah in farsi and is commonly worn just as crosses are worn here. mom put it in a safe deposit box.
this time they were coming and my mom asked me what i was going to ask for. i remember the conversation in the kitchen. i don't want anything, i'm just stoked to meet the people that i'm realated to, all i remember from them is that i don't know how to communicate with them. seeing them is present enough. mom said, ok, but you know that you don't see them that much, and there's things over there that are cheaper and better quality like gold, jewelry, leather, and persian rugs, etc... all these things sound cool but i wasn't about to go and make a christmas list for my family that i've met once.
so then it dawned on me. i want something of value. something significant to our family. i wanted a family airloom! something i could say my grandfather who i never met that lived in a country on the other side of the world used or bought or had. that sounded way cooler than a silk rug or a gold tea set. so my order was set. i would have been fine with nothing and just seeing them since i don't even know them but feel that i should, and want to get to know them, to learn more about myself.
christmas time rolls around and i'm hoping for an old teapot, pocketwatch, shoe horn, pen, i dunno! something that my ancestors once held... it's my turn to open up the present. i've got two of them. one is a small jewelry box. the other is an even smaller one. wow. maybe i got someone's ring, and a neclace, or a bracelet. something cool must have come my way. man i'm glad i asked for something instead of just being content with seeing my family...
i open up the first package and i find a cheap, anchor blue style bracelet. my brother opens his up and it's an almost identical bracelet. i can't believe i let my imagination get the best of me again. but i did. the next box yielded a matching neclace. just from looking at it and holding it i could tell that this neclace would tarnish and discolor within a week of being worn.
now i'm let down. and i shouldn't be. i'm frustrated with how i allowed myself to go from excited and content, to expecting so much, to disapponted, all with a little conversation from my mom. i should have just kept to my guns. let her know that it's not important. and now i know. i'm going to have to start the family airloom thing cause nobody here has and if i'm going to have a say in this, my family will have family airlooms!! and that's final! time to buy some good quality nicknacks and set them up for preservation, this may be more expencive than i thought. oh well it's for the family!
a while ago my family from iran came over to visit for a few months. my grandma, aunt, and uncle. once again my father's family would all be under the same roof. (with the exception of my grandfather, but he has long since passed away.) i has seen my grandmother once before, as well as my aunt. my uncle i had never met before. this was an exciting time for me. the fact that they all speak farsi as a first language and their english is as broken as it can break makes it difficult to communicate. but having extended family around is something that i feel i have less of than most of my peers. last time my grandma came over i was in grade school. she brought me an allah. a gold neclace with a pendant that says allah in farsi and is commonly worn just as crosses are worn here. mom put it in a safe deposit box.
this time they were coming and my mom asked me what i was going to ask for. i remember the conversation in the kitchen. i don't want anything, i'm just stoked to meet the people that i'm realated to, all i remember from them is that i don't know how to communicate with them. seeing them is present enough. mom said, ok, but you know that you don't see them that much, and there's things over there that are cheaper and better quality like gold, jewelry, leather, and persian rugs, etc... all these things sound cool but i wasn't about to go and make a christmas list for my family that i've met once.
so then it dawned on me. i want something of value. something significant to our family. i wanted a family airloom! something i could say my grandfather who i never met that lived in a country on the other side of the world used or bought or had. that sounded way cooler than a silk rug or a gold tea set. so my order was set. i would have been fine with nothing and just seeing them since i don't even know them but feel that i should, and want to get to know them, to learn more about myself.
christmas time rolls around and i'm hoping for an old teapot, pocketwatch, shoe horn, pen, i dunno! something that my ancestors once held... it's my turn to open up the present. i've got two of them. one is a small jewelry box. the other is an even smaller one. wow. maybe i got someone's ring, and a neclace, or a bracelet. something cool must have come my way. man i'm glad i asked for something instead of just being content with seeing my family...
i open up the first package and i find a cheap, anchor blue style bracelet. my brother opens his up and it's an almost identical bracelet. i can't believe i let my imagination get the best of me again. but i did. the next box yielded a matching neclace. just from looking at it and holding it i could tell that this neclace would tarnish and discolor within a week of being worn.
now i'm let down. and i shouldn't be. i'm frustrated with how i allowed myself to go from excited and content, to expecting so much, to disapponted, all with a little conversation from my mom. i should have just kept to my guns. let her know that it's not important. and now i know. i'm going to have to start the family airloom thing cause nobody here has and if i'm going to have a say in this, my family will have family airlooms!! and that's final! time to buy some good quality nicknacks and set them up for preservation, this may be more expencive than i thought. oh well it's for the family!
Labels:
Hunger 1
Monday, June 14, 2004
insensitive
this past weekend i've realize just how insensitive i am. in all aspects of the sensitivity realm. it started friday night. picked up a friend from the airport. (sidenote, lax sucks. where the hell do you park to go pick someone up? i couldn't find it? so i drove in circles while gas prices remain at 2.30/gallon till my friend was on the curb. not a good system.) so i'm excited to see her and when i see her she's not so excited, although all week we've been talking about how fun this weekend will be. we drive for a second, do the normal small talk, i ease the clutch out and we start moving when all of a sudden she jumps and points out the window. "there's the guy!"
-ok, i'm lost. the guy? who's the guy.. fill me in here. turns out he was a 19 year old from somewhere going to iraq. his parents were crying cause he was leaving. she felt so compelled to get his email and somehow try to send him a care package of some sort. Ooohhh. she intentionally sat next to him so she could hear about this guys story. and i found myself stuck. this situation paralelled a situation which i have a great phobia of. girls crying. i blogged about it one day, how i don't know what to do and fear the situation where i'm supposed to comfort a crying girl. seems like there's no right way to do it so you end up screwed. SAME with this scenario. but i tried to let her know that it is not an easy thing to do, and i'm not man enough to do this role. heck when i was 19 i was seltered by the dorms and relyed on the guidance, wisdom, and money from mom and dad.
later that night, after a few drinks and a stupid shot of 151 i find her telling the story to a mutual friend. and she then says that when she told me the story i made her feel stupid for feeling that way. i thought i was being sensitive but i guess i'm just not.
then the next day i was in front of the bbq, grilling some carne asada and some pollo asado. the smoke was blowing right in my face and as my friend came to get some meat, he had to stand behind the grill, "how do you just stand there!! the smoke is killing me!?" i don't know, i just am. then he tells me to take a swig of his jack and coke that someone gave him. he claims it's way too strong. i have some and it's a bit on the coke side for me i tell him. this leads to a conversation about how when i say it's not spicy, it's usually too spicy for my friend.
what can i say? is it that i'm just insensitive, or have i been numbed in more than one way. who's to know? maybe i just hang out with more sensitive people than myself. is that better? what if i was the most sensitive? i'd be making the people around me feel as i do and i'd be the one dealing with hot food, incompassionate people, and smoke from bbq's.
in this case i want to say we have to use the "goldie locks" theorm. she's the girl who went to the three bears house. the too hot soup, too cold, just right. this is an in the middle. follows the goldie locks theorm. and i'm a bit on the too hot of soup. can someone blow on my soup? or better yet, get me an ice cube?
this past weekend i've realize just how insensitive i am. in all aspects of the sensitivity realm. it started friday night. picked up a friend from the airport. (sidenote, lax sucks. where the hell do you park to go pick someone up? i couldn't find it? so i drove in circles while gas prices remain at 2.30/gallon till my friend was on the curb. not a good system.) so i'm excited to see her and when i see her she's not so excited, although all week we've been talking about how fun this weekend will be. we drive for a second, do the normal small talk, i ease the clutch out and we start moving when all of a sudden she jumps and points out the window. "there's the guy!"
-ok, i'm lost. the guy? who's the guy.. fill me in here. turns out he was a 19 year old from somewhere going to iraq. his parents were crying cause he was leaving. she felt so compelled to get his email and somehow try to send him a care package of some sort. Ooohhh. she intentionally sat next to him so she could hear about this guys story. and i found myself stuck. this situation paralelled a situation which i have a great phobia of. girls crying. i blogged about it one day, how i don't know what to do and fear the situation where i'm supposed to comfort a crying girl. seems like there's no right way to do it so you end up screwed. SAME with this scenario. but i tried to let her know that it is not an easy thing to do, and i'm not man enough to do this role. heck when i was 19 i was seltered by the dorms and relyed on the guidance, wisdom, and money from mom and dad.
later that night, after a few drinks and a stupid shot of 151 i find her telling the story to a mutual friend. and she then says that when she told me the story i made her feel stupid for feeling that way. i thought i was being sensitive but i guess i'm just not.
then the next day i was in front of the bbq, grilling some carne asada and some pollo asado. the smoke was blowing right in my face and as my friend came to get some meat, he had to stand behind the grill, "how do you just stand there!! the smoke is killing me!?" i don't know, i just am. then he tells me to take a swig of his jack and coke that someone gave him. he claims it's way too strong. i have some and it's a bit on the coke side for me i tell him. this leads to a conversation about how when i say it's not spicy, it's usually too spicy for my friend.
what can i say? is it that i'm just insensitive, or have i been numbed in more than one way. who's to know? maybe i just hang out with more sensitive people than myself. is that better? what if i was the most sensitive? i'd be making the people around me feel as i do and i'd be the one dealing with hot food, incompassionate people, and smoke from bbq's.
in this case i want to say we have to use the "goldie locks" theorm. she's the girl who went to the three bears house. the too hot soup, too cold, just right. this is an in the middle. follows the goldie locks theorm. and i'm a bit on the too hot of soup. can someone blow on my soup? or better yet, get me an ice cube?
Labels:
Hunger 1
Thursday, June 3, 2004
Wednesday, June 2, 2004
is a boy raised by wolves a boy??
a friend of mine said something to me while i was drinking. and i didn't have enough time to think about it then, or maybe i didn't have the brain capacity, and attentionspan... but it stuck with me cause it was rather weird for me to hear and comprehend. she said that she doesn't consider herself american. she feels she's taiwanese, because her parents are taiwanese. she was born and raised in southern california, but considers herself loyal to an island on the other side of the world.
that made me ponder... what am i? shoud i consider myself 1/2 persian, 1/4 welsh, 1/8 german, and 1/8 norwegian? i mean i've never been to iran, whales, germany, or norway. if i went to either of the countries i don't think i'd fit in either. but in southern california, i feel home. i relate to the people. this is my culture. this is my homeland. i can't relate to how people back in the countries where my ancestors used to live. so how can i then call myself any of these ethnicities. yes i do carry some of the customs and traditions from them, and i do relate with some of their cultural beliefs but not all of them. and they don't agree or relate with some of mine. it makes us different. it makes me an american. and i feel that the term american means just that. people from somewhere, came here and started new, but still held on to some of their old customs and beliefs but still started something a bit different. i can go to a different city like chicago and point out how different everything is there. how the people, the language, styles, all this stuff that i can't relate to... i'm not a chicago-an but we're all americans.
so i asked her. do you not feel like an american, you speak with a southern california slang, you know the area, you have lived here forever, relate to people who live in the area that are of the same situation as you by having family come from far away and reside here... and most of all, if you went back to your place of ethnicity, you wouldn't fit in!!!
america is a melting pot, but it melts in clumps. thus chinatown, little italy, koreatown, etc are born. you get people grouping to their old cultures but they are at the same time making new ones.
what really baffles me is that there was a group of 30 or so who were playing catch phrase at 2am and had the police break it up we reverted to talking about this. intresting? maybe maybe not, but don't expect to get invited to one of these parties. for most, it's simply too much to handle.
a friend of mine said something to me while i was drinking. and i didn't have enough time to think about it then, or maybe i didn't have the brain capacity, and attentionspan... but it stuck with me cause it was rather weird for me to hear and comprehend. she said that she doesn't consider herself american. she feels she's taiwanese, because her parents are taiwanese. she was born and raised in southern california, but considers herself loyal to an island on the other side of the world.
that made me ponder... what am i? shoud i consider myself 1/2 persian, 1/4 welsh, 1/8 german, and 1/8 norwegian? i mean i've never been to iran, whales, germany, or norway. if i went to either of the countries i don't think i'd fit in either. but in southern california, i feel home. i relate to the people. this is my culture. this is my homeland. i can't relate to how people back in the countries where my ancestors used to live. so how can i then call myself any of these ethnicities. yes i do carry some of the customs and traditions from them, and i do relate with some of their cultural beliefs but not all of them. and they don't agree or relate with some of mine. it makes us different. it makes me an american. and i feel that the term american means just that. people from somewhere, came here and started new, but still held on to some of their old customs and beliefs but still started something a bit different. i can go to a different city like chicago and point out how different everything is there. how the people, the language, styles, all this stuff that i can't relate to... i'm not a chicago-an but we're all americans.
so i asked her. do you not feel like an american, you speak with a southern california slang, you know the area, you have lived here forever, relate to people who live in the area that are of the same situation as you by having family come from far away and reside here... and most of all, if you went back to your place of ethnicity, you wouldn't fit in!!!
america is a melting pot, but it melts in clumps. thus chinatown, little italy, koreatown, etc are born. you get people grouping to their old cultures but they are at the same time making new ones.
what really baffles me is that there was a group of 30 or so who were playing catch phrase at 2am and had the police break it up we reverted to talking about this. intresting? maybe maybe not, but don't expect to get invited to one of these parties. for most, it's simply too much to handle.
Labels:
Hunger 1