I spent most of the morning contemplating just how irritating all the erections I seem to be getting these days are. I feel like I'm in puberty again, where li'l abner decides to pop up all the time for absolutely no reason. On a bus that's vibrating? Now you've got a traveling companion. Sitting down working with data? He wants to come out and play. Seriously though, I'm getting damned tired of uncomfortable straining pants and having no GODDAMNED BLOOD IN MY HEAD.
Look, I realize that I'm young and male and I don't mind choking the weasel, polishing the bishop, talking to one eyed jack, strangling the snake, spanking the monkey, or kneading the dough once in awhile as neccesary. However I expect that as long as I run water through the pipes to make sure they work with SOME regularity that I will NOT get stuff backed up.
*sigh* hopefully it will pass. And please don't tell me that all I need to do is put the devil back in hell (Yes it's a reference to Bocaccio's Decameron, but god damn it us Ivy Leaguers need to believe that our core produces SOMETHING of value) because it ain't gonna happen.
Anyway, I went into work this afternoon and was a little thoughtless. I usually chat with my boss about various things so I mentioned what I'd heard about Russia from the people in my class, which was mainly that 1/3 of the children born there these days have birth defects and because of this people aren't having children and the population is shrinking. The thing I forgot was that she has a daughter with a serious birth defect. I didn't say anything judgemental or mean, just presented the information, but it was stupid in retrospect. Made even worse when her disabled daughter actually showed up today at work. Yes in the last two days I have met BOTH of her daughters. No I don't know why this is.
When I saw the disabled daughter I didn't know what to do. I mean she is OBVIOUSLY disabled so I didn't want to stare and I didn't want to avoid looking at her but I didn't want to come on too strong and look like an overcompensating asshole or anything. I just froze and ignored her which was the wrong thing to do. Fortunatly she came in later to get something and I was able to ask her whether she would like the door to be left opened or closed when I took off. I think she was pretty surprised that I addressed her directly and looked right into her eyes when asking the question (probably assumed I couldn't handle how she looked, the thing is that I just needed a little bit of time which isn't SO bad) but she said open and I said cool and hopefully the ice is broken.
My boss also said that her daughter would be coming in at least twice a week for the rest of the summer. I don't actually know whether she meant the handicapped daughter or the butt-flasher daughter but after some consideration I have decided that I would prefer it be the handicapped one. I mean she can't help how she looks and she seems perfectly nice if a little rough around the edges which is unsurprising considering how most people probably treat her (her face also looks somewhat odd.)
Unless we accept rmrn's theory that there's a conspiracy of fashion designers to keep women from being able to hide their butts then butt-flasher does not have the same excuse.
I can see it now, a sort of Zoolanderesque conspiracy of the fashion elite.
Georgio Armani: Too long have women been able to hide their tender buttocks from the roving eyes of men. We, as fashion designers, must strip (pun intended) them of this ability post haste!
Versace: Very good....I concur. In the bible it says that thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife or thy neighbor's ass but it says NOTHING about thy neighbor's wife's ass. NOTHING! It says NOTHING....still...we should ask the silver fox before deciding.
Ralph Lauren: Excellent. I FULLY support this idea...all that's left is to get Hillfigger to agree to it. If we do then Klein will fall in line and with him all the others. What say ye Hillfigger, do you want to look at some tender lumplings?
Tommy Hillfigger: Well, being a hip urban "ghetto superstar" from Conneticut I must concur with our illustrious leader. His premonitions of thematic concerns crosscuting the stylistic zeitgeist of today has yielded not a single overture to pernicious happenings to come, so far. "What up my NIGGAS! I'm in. This idea be phat."
Calvin Klein: *singing* I'm not your boy toy, I'm just your sexy boy.
Ralph Lauren: So say all of you?
Chorus of designers: So say all of us!
Ralph Lauren: Let it be done then. And if any independent shop or mass producer should try to create pants that hide the buttock region from view they SHALL be destroyed by our combined fury. We won't let them into the most FABULOUS parties.
Christian Designer 1: Fuckin' A!
Christian Designer 2: Goddamned FUCKIN' A! (in order for such a plan to be sprung into action naturally the christian designers must not be tempted to produce modesty protecting clothes, thus their fucking a of assent is neccesary for the scenario to work. The taking of the lord's name in vain is just extra, free of charge.)
Martha Steward: I dare not go against the wishes of the fashion collective.
Anyway, unless THAT scenario played out I doubt it's that hard to find butt-covering pants and so butt-flasher is cemented as the less liked daughter.