Court strikes down prostitution law...

...Tories react predictably

Original story here.
Zoom's cogent analysis here.

Happy Easter

Ah, Cute bunnies, I thought to myself. Then I noticed the carrot.

Going Down is Going Up

On July 29, the Ottawa Citizen reported that a shocked couple complained about three books they discovered on the Ottawa Public Libraries "on order" list. [Citizen Article]

It's not clear who the couple are nor whether they wanted their complaint to be publicized.

This means it is an open question: Are they misguided prudes who don't realize that calls for censorship increase readership and that librarians are freedom-of-speech, anti-book-banning zealots who will hear their complaint as a reason to order even more sex manuals? Or is this couple a pair of devious sex manual publicists?

Whoever they are, I hope they complain about my book when I finally get around to writing it. Even if they don't, I'm grateful to them for making me realize I need to drop my working title: the meaningful little book of life with Jesus.

Get out your library card and click these links to get on the reservation list:

• The Going Down Guide
• The Sex Instruction Manual : Essential Information and Techniques for Optimum Performance
• The anal sex positions guide : the best positions for easy, exciting, mind-blowing pleasure
• The little book on meaning : why we crave it, how we create it
• A Meaningful Life
• A spectator's guide to Jesus : an introduction to the man from Nazareth

Google Poem: More than one way?

* if you think the only way to get laid is by drugging someone in order to sleep with you, that is rape and you need to be locked up

* best way to get laid is put her on her stomach, take down that panty shield, and poke until she makes sounds

* Perhaps the best way to get laid is to lead a life worth living.

* Fastest way to get laid is to know what artist your gurl likes most and buy all their albums! You have no idea how many times I have to listen to Chris Brown or Justin Timberlake!

* The best way to get laid is to put on some slow jazz music.

* The best way to get laid is without having to use a pickup line; weed out the sober ones who still have their morals intact!

* I am thinking that the easist way to get laid is to hit the club

* It's a truism worthy of Yogi Berra to say that the best way to get laid is to lose your virginity.

* many neanderthals believe that the best way to get laid is to just get her drunk. Don’t get me wrong; that is a fantastic idea if you’ve been married or in a long-term relationship and she is just not in the mood very often

* an easy way to get laid is baking tasty shit for people who think that stuff is hard. ...

* And the best way to get laid is to pretend to be someone else who is cooler than yourself.

* the only way to get laid is… to be rich!

* I was obviously wrong, and the only way to get laid is by emotional manipulation. I have found, from personal experience, that virginity leads to feelings of shame, rage, frustration, inadequacy, isolation, alienation, ...

* a dude in his underwear sitting in his mom's and dad's basement decides the best way to get laid is to lie (this is actually true) so he puts up an improbable Craigslist post trolling for some 15 year old choke job chicken head

* Look at the 40 Year Old Virgin and similar movies, where the sexually-inexperienced male is advised by his “wiser”, more experienced friend(s) that the best way to get laid is to look for the drunkest girl at the party ...

* Seems to me that the way to get laid is to dress up in a hilarious Disney character costume. This also means that you will get to handle celebrity tits.

* Û² So a kid is ~Censored~ and the only way to get laid is to go to ²Û. Û² this ultra school of ~Censored~ kids and here the first thing that ²Û. Û² happens to him is getting rapped by the principal who is g3y and has ²Û ...

* Arabs want sex just as much as Westerners but they are taught that it is dirty and the only “respectable” way to get laid is to get married.

* This brought upon me an epiphany: The easiest way to get laid is to feed off a woman’s jealousy.

* The best way to get laid is to fake confidence and don't listen too much.

[NSFW Disney Photoshop]

Dream Interpretation Request

I dreamed that I was Steve McQueen and that I was boffing Marilyn Monroe. What the hell does that mean?

Familiar Bedfellows

With all this talk of strange bedfellows this past week, I've been reminded of the problem some of you have with not knowing what to call the person that you live with and to whom you are not legally married.

I'm told "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" aren't suitable because they sound juvenile and don't reveal there is a shared domicile and commitment to the future.

"Partner" is no good because people assume you are gay if you are straight or they think you are talking about someone who you're in business with.

By turning to the web, I have found a plethora of words and phrases you can use instead of "spouse equivalent", "significant other" or "person of the opposite sex sharing living quarters". First, here are some I found checking various reference sources:

• My conjugal relation [As opposed to your brother who would be your fraternal relation]
• My conjugate [Mathematical: the person who rationalizes the denominators of your fractions, is the root of your polynomial function, and who can be joined to you by a 1-parameter family of geodesics.]
• Mon conjoint; ma conjointe [Means legally married in French, but if spoken with a heavy Franco-Ontarien accent won't give anyone the impression there is anything legal about what goes on between the two of you.]
• The person who is developing an equitable right to my property [Legal #1, problematic because in addition to not being romantic, I'm told it could also apply to someone who is doing extensive renovations on your property with an unwritten promise of having an ownership share.]
• The person through whom I am eligible for dental benefits and an extended-health plan [This is at least unambiguous if you're over 25; on the other hand, you should be calling someone like this "my treasure of incalculable worth".]
• My intimate companion [Cloying unless you're a pair of entirely platonic friends from the early 1800s].
• The person with whom I am in a relationship of some permanence [Legal #2 - see Ontario's Family Law Act, Part 3].

Of course, some of our favourite bloggers (or ex-bloggers) have terms they like to use. Harmony used to use the saucy "my lovah", Hella Stella talks about her "BH", and J spells it out and calls A her "better half" from time to time.

Unfortunately for my research, most local bloggers seem to be either living without conjugal partners or purport to be actually married. Nevertheless, it was by going through blogs of people who are living with another person without the sanction of church or state that I found the word that I think should be claimed by the unwed.

I had been calling up archive pages and doing a ctrl-F for "my " to find possible alternative terms, but on the blog of J's better half A, The Adventures of your Mom, I found a term I think is perfect just by reading the second most recent posting:

So homeslice Paul and I went to pickup (sic) his new 49 burger capacity BBQ. Of course no mojor (sic) purchase goes without issue at Crappy Tire[.] (sic)

I had been reading so many blogs at this point that I forgot whose blog I was reading. The title made me think I was reading a mommy blog and I figured Paul must be the mommy's conjugal relation. "Homeslice," I thought, "what a great word!"

Imagine my disappointment when I realized that this was not some suburban mom talking about her bbq loving man, but instead tough guy A referring to his completely het pal. Then I went to the Urban Dictionary and confirmed that "homeslice" is a synonym for "homeboy" or "homie" that is favoured by caucasian youths.

But my disappointment doesn't have to last and you can help. I've submitted a new definition of "homeslice" to the Urban Dictionary. If the editors accept it, it will show up soon. Probably on page 4. If enough of you click the thumbs-up, it will move up, maybe even to #1.

This Week's Fun from Ottawa Blogs

Nik at Kill Everything had a fun Facebook chat with a woman, Sarah G, whose name showed up in some insulting graffiti. Sarah G didn't realize at first that Nik was actually doing her a good deed and lashed out at him. The way Nik turned it around is an example we can all learn from:

I was walking my dogs with my wife and we saw the graffiti. And I said, jokingly, "I wonder who Sarah G--- is? Maybe I should look her up in the phone book."

She laughed and said, "Look her up on Facebook."

So I punched in "Sarah G---" and your profile was obviously in Ottawa. So I sent you a message.

It struck me as vaguely funny. And your response ("fucking dick") made my wife and I laugh. So now everyone is happy.

Well, except maybe you. And maybe some other Sarah G.

Zoom over at Knitnut reported on Nov. 12th that XUP said she talks about her Gentleman Caller (GC) too much [ed: I disagree and would like to read more adventures of GC.] And so, Zoom announced that she will be mentioning XUP in every post until the end of the month.

P.S. A little birdie told me that XUP thinks I’m mentioning GC too often on my blog, so I’m going to mention XUP every day for the rest of November.

Do you see what is happening here ESIs? Zoom has already schooled us on Kitty blogging, Craft blogging, Local Politics Blogging and Photos of Dead People Blogging, but now she is coming after our main turf: Self-Referential Wanking (SRW)!

Hella Stella is going for a spa massage soon and tells us that this always brings to mind an experience she shared with her Better Half (BH) in India:

...actually, every time I get a spa massage I flash back to that time I was in India and decided to get a Aryuvedic massage with my BH. Then we got stripped down to nothing, oiled up, and spanked for over an hour. It was pretty much the worst massage EVER. The only thing my massage "therapist" could say in English was "ticklish?" and I had to laugh and nod because she wouldn't have understood "no, I'm bleeding internally." Then we limped back to the hotel.

Remember last week when Hella met Mae for the first time and told her that she loved the story about her vibrator [which was really a dildo] and the eight orgasms in one night?

Now Mae (or you) when you see Stella somewhere in public, can say "Stella, I love the story about you and your guy getting oiled up and spanked by women in India!"

When Bloggers Collide or Secret Identities Often Aren't

Do any of you remember years and years ago when the Atlantic published monthly stories about famous people meeting each other for the first time? Last week, Mae Callen met Hella Stella:

HS: "Hi, nice to meet you too. I love your blog. I read it all the time"

MC: "oh, I ah, didn't realize people actually did, wow, oh thanks, I didn't expect that"

HS: "yeah, and that vibrator (you know the one that gave you 8 orgasms in one night) yeah, I'm totally going to order one."

• Description from MC
• HS Explains
  

Porn and Sex and Blog Popularity in Ottawa

Tonight I was with some friends and we discussed the pornographic nature of some television shows. For instance, it was argued that werewolf porn is really just a kink for the fluffies, who are apparently some kind of cuddly fetish group -- and possibly sometimes inclined to disguise as werewolves. This naturally brought us to further discussions about the secrets of getting an Ottawa readership for one's blog. This then brought us to talk about the ESI blog and its appreciated but rather stagnant readership. To grow, it was thought that we ESIs needed to be personal. However, our readers will know that this is something the ESI community completely avoids (so, therefore, beyond our ability). Realizing this, the next suggestion was that we needed to be sexual, especially in an Ottawa context. That was the word for the evening.

Well, the discussion came around to the the core issue: How to get readership when you are a group of people without a single voice for readers to follow, not into revealing personal details, not independently famous, and not interested in working too hard to achieve it? Really, to me, given that we can't discuss our personal lives with any real gore, it's clear that discussing or engaging in public sex is beyond us. So, anyone have some suggestions about how to increase readership other than producing pornography or becoming personal?

RNDP 6: MySpace

Two years ago, a blogger named Nurble in a posting titled myspace told us about what he'd initially thought was a new dating paradigm, but turned out to be shameless self-promotion:

...some girl started chatting me up at a bar last night. She didn't actually seem interested, she seemed to just be killing time, so we talked for two or three minutes, then she asked if I was on myspace.

"Interesting," I thought, "is this the new paradigm for the 21st century? No more phone numbers and Swingers-esque waiting x number of days to call and sweating it out?" Maybe we can start giving out our names and email addresses and account names instead of just shooting in the dark.

We can admit what everybody already knows, that the first thing most of us with computers do when we get enough information is run straight to google and try and dig up some juicy info. How fascinating it would be if the new thing was "give me your name, assume I'm going to go home and read everything you've got scattered around the internet, and after that, we'll see."

Interesting indeed. Unfortunately this girl was not on the avant-garde of a new dating paradigm, she was just some actress who had 1100 friends and a poorly designed page full of headshots and pictures of her with celebrities. Booooo.

Unfortunately, this posting in which Nurble revealed himself to be that rare combination of fieldworker and theoretician did not live up to its promise. Nurble rarely commented on dating following this post. We know he was concerned about finding a date for the 2006 Emmy Awards and he found one. In July, 2006 he posted a bit of dialogue that may have been a transcription of an actual exchange from a date:

INTERIOR, NIGHT Guy: Are you going to take your contacts out? Girl: I was thinking about it, why? Guy: Well, if you're going to, then I probably shouldn't. Otherwise we might find ourselves in the worlds sexiest game of Marco Polo. ...and, scene.

In September of 2006 he revealed that he sent a copy of What's Your Number by Ian Pooley to a woman and it "didn't really work out..." but this could have been at anytime before this. We know that he later had a beautiful girlfriend lying in his bed while he was blogging about songs. And now he is moving to New York with his beautiful girlfriend. The same beautiful girlfriend? Perhaps.

4d Analysis: This fieldwork gives us more questions:

• Was Nurble too hasty to dismiss this as a new dating paradigm?
• What if her Myspace pages had revealed them to be more compatible? Say if he also had 1100 friends (instead of 12) and some of them were famous? Or if her page revealed her to be a shy but thoughtful artist?
• Or was his sense that she was just killing time all that he needed in order to know that she had no future in his life?

Bonus: Here is a Nurble Posting that Aggie will like.

On Questions:

"...questions are more important than answers in shaping the future of science."
- Donald Kennedy, Editor-in-Chief, Science Magazine

To be able to ask a question clearly is two-thirds of the way to getting it answered
- John Ruskin

Judge a man by his questions rather than by his answers
- Voltaire

The important thing is not to stop questioning.
- Albert Einstein

After the Flirtation: Getting some Action at the Movies

There has been some talk around here lately about flirting. Seems some of you are comfortable flirting, some of you have issues with flirting and some of you don't know you're being flirted with until someone plants a wet one on your lips.

I, of course, am an expert on flirtation, but rather than share my expertise with you people at no charge, I am holding out for a government contract. As you've no doubt heard, the government of Singapore has introduced a university course on flirtation. In a year or two, they will need someone to lead their graduate-level classes and they'll be looking to hire me. Either that, or our own government will realize that Canada is falling behind in the love-gap and bring me in to straighten things out.

Still I have some advice for you developmentally-delayed daters. Here it is:

Movies are for First Dates!

I can hear you already! "Are you crazy, Dwarf? You don't go to a movie on the first date! You can't talk at the movies. You can't learn more about the person."

I say, "exactly!" You can't talk at the movies. The more you talk with someone, the more likely you are to find out things about each other that will turn you off. There is plenty of evidence that the time you spend before the movie is more than enough time for two people to become attracted to each other and things you believe are turn-offs and turn-ons for you, probably aren't. [e.g. News or Journal].

And if you don't know each other, after the movie you will have a shared experience to talk about.

Then there's the situation where the date is with someone you know really well. Maybe for years. Had lunch together every work day for months. Helped each other buy clothes. Let's face it, if you're in this situation another opportunity for talking is not going to help you get on base. Go to a movie.

You're in the dark, you can't talk, but you can smooch. If the movie is awful, smooching will improve it; if the movie is wonderful, smooching will add to the emotion.

Tips for Action

1. Sit in the back row. So you won't feel observed.
2. Wear a shirt with buttons. If you're wearing a boy shirt, sit on the right, your date's hand will more easily slip inside; sit on the left if you're wearing a girl shirt.
3. If you're holding the popcorn, accidentally move it when your date goes for it, gently place their hand where you think it should be.
4. If your date is holding the popcorn, accidentally miss the box, let it stay there longer than necessary.
5. Ostentatiously yawn, stretch your arms, and let your arm fall over your date's shoulder. Smile to show that you're being funny and know that you're using the oldest move in the book. But leave your arm there.
6. Your hand may just happen to fallen over a breast.
7. And unconsciously squeeze at a moment of comedy, tension or drama.
8. If something scary happens, grab your date's arm or leg.
9. Or if something funny happens.
10. Allow yourself to find things funnier or scarier than you would normally.
11. You can't talk, but you can whisper.
12. Whisper things like "that outfit would look good on you" or "I bet you'd deal with a bad guy the same way".
13. While whispering, your lips might accidentally touch your date's ear. Pretend it didn't happen and keep whispering.
14. Or acknowledge that it happened and just start kissing.

If at any point in this process your move is rebuffed, just say, "sorry, I get affectionate at the movies" and go back to being just friends. If they go to a movie with you again, you'll know you are in there. If they don't, maybe you'll move on and stop wasting your time with a hopeless unrequited passion.

Other resources:

• Video: How to go on a date to the Movies
• Advice: How to See a Sexy Movie and Not Have Sex After
• Wiki: How to Kiss
• Instructable: How to Kiss
• Podcast: First Kiss Tips for Christians

Forget Larry, Let’s Talk About Flirting

Over at the Elgin Street Muse blog, there is quite a bit of talk about flirting. Manny Blue mentioned that flirting is a four season activity. Anonymous wanted more instruction. Conch Shell felt it was more of a pre-relationship thing. I like that Aggie concluded that we should just be doing it, and not over thinking it. Certainly, to me, it is an every day activity.

I flirted with an enchantingly pretty young woman this morning. The barista at a Starbucks. She had wild, radiant hair that had strands pulled up in a few places and that were held up by coloured elastics and pretty little barrettes. She wore shiny shell and silver jewelry, and at first I thought she looked a bit like a fairy tale princess - like the one in The Princess Bride. I noticed that the chalk board on the counter that names the baristas had a drawing of two Mermaids (one blonde with wild hair like my barista). When she handed me my coffee, I looked her in the eyes, smiled amiably, and told her that she did indeed look like a mermaid. She broke out into a lovely smile, and thanked me sweetly.

I flirted with a scrumptious young man this afternoon at a Bridgehead. I liked how he had a bit of an old fashioned look about him - as if he had just walked out of the late seventies. Maybe I just wanted to believe he looked that way, because that is when I would have been the age that I suspect he is now. I asked him if he would make my latté pretty like the last time. Last time he made a half-moon design in the foam. We chatted about how in Vancouver they make all kinds of nice designs in the latté foam. He had my undivided attention. He mentioned that a friend of his was being flown from Vancouver to somewhere in the States to compete in foam decorating.

“I’m really not very good at this,” he apologized.

“In Vancouver someone made a heart in my foam.” I mentioned.

“There you go,” he said handing me my latté, “but I don’t know what it is.”

“Look,” I said, turning the cup around for him to see, “it’s a tulip.”

“Oh, wow, so it is.” He marveled at his art.

I winked at him and said, “Now I can tell my friends that a nice young man gave me a flower today.”

He smiled and blushed.

Ms Army Pants witnessed the flirt with the young man and was told about the flirt with the young girl. She called me dirty.

“You’d do anything for sex wouldn’t you.” She accused.

“It’s not about sex,” I protested. “I am much too old for either of them. It’s about connecting, it’s about having conversations, it’s about making people smile…” I explained passionately and honestly.

“No, you’re just dirty.” She insisted.

Hot Bikini Babes - Emergency Meeting Minutes

Location / Date: Usual Spot, Friday March 21 2008
Members In Attendance (and on-time): 4th Dwarf, Coyote, Agatha, the Chair
Member arriving late in their usual passive-aggressive manner: Conch Shell
Member absent for semi-legitimate reasons: Independent Observer
Guests: Audrey, Harmony

Meeting began. First item of order: delegation of the taking of the minutes. Aggie nominated the Chair to take minutes. Seconded by Dwarfie. Reluctantly accepted by the Chair.

Before going into formalities, those present congratulated Coyote on surviving to see another annual milestone in Bytown’s less-than-hospitable urban setting for creative canines – Doug Thompson be damned. Beverages were raised. Yellow snow was made.

Item 2: Whither the Blog – Kitty Blogging

A point was raised regarding the prevalence of pussies felines in the blog of late. This has raised some concern for some of the members and regular readers of the blog. Some felt the ESIs were selling out to the popularity of cats in the blogosphere while others wanted more focus on politically incorrect Chinese food recipes. [Redacted] noted that she has cat allergies and couldn’t read such postings without her Epi-pin at hand. It was further noted that those wannabes down the road were going all porno on their parodies of this topic and it could marginalize our readership. It was agreed that we would poll the readership before implementing any censorship.

Item 3: Dwarfie’s Crushes – Cute or Creepy?

Dwarfie’s latest escapade in provoking potential restraining orders against the ESIs from Ottawa’s Blogtown Babe Community was discussed. A quick vote came down to a split decision on whether this is cute or creepy. “It’s not like I’m stalking!” said the Dwarf. Aggie shuddered. All agreed that we would let things continue as they are, but that [redacted] was in the best position to veto this behaviour.

Item 4a: Who is the CBC commenter with no sense of humour?

The Chair opined that it would be a shorter list if we asked the opposite question and subsequently threw out the name Alan Neal (just to see if he actually reads this blog). Others suggested [redacted]. Some clues suggest that it could be coming from subversive elements associated with the readership of Aggie’s blog. CSIS would be contacted for assistance.

Item 4b: Who is the 7th Heathen

All agreed it was most likely [redacted]. Our message to 7th Heathen: keep it up. We know who you are, and we know where you live.

Item 5: deferred until our special guest arrived

Item 6: Report from the Italian bureau

Audrey updated us on developments overseas. All is well as she and the IO manage furniture and decorating details. The Chair was impressed with their choice of furniture and recognized one of his relatives in the Ottoman section of the catalogue. 4D asked if the apartment had yet been “baptized, if you know what I mean ?” Aggie shuddered.

[in camera]

[out camera]

Item 7: How to bring down Mayor Lex Luthor and become famous in the process

Most agreed he doesn’t need anyone’s assistance on this front, as he and his staff were doing an admirable job on their own. [Redacted] mused whether we would be seeing a wind-tax or a “cloudy-with-a-chance-for-a-shower” tax in next year’s budget. Rehabilitating him was considered the better option to pursue. “It would be very zen-like,” said Aggie. “Everyone loves a redemption story,” said the Chair. The Chair then recounted a story about how his mother used to respond to obscene phone-callers in the days before call display. “Why are you doing this? You need help…” she’d tell them. Dwarfie laughed, albeit a little too knowingly by the Chair’s take.

The discussion moved onto strategies for elevating the Mayor’s cred. Dwarfie offered to continue to post about other bad public figures. Another idea included bringing down his opponents. Conch Shell was immediately tasked with creating a detailed list of Mayor Lex’s opponents and was subsequently going to make an ATI request to the Census Bureau.

Item 8: Making Woodsy a full fledged ESI

Aggie said it would be a good idea seeing that Woodsy has provided more content than some of the current ESI members. At this point, Conch Shell and the Chair looked at each other with shame, both knowing that such a passive-aggressive comment in their presence would only contribute to their further marginalization from the blog and countless hours of therapy as they fight their sense of self-worth in a publish-or-perish world of two-bit hacks... oh fuck-off!!!

Audrey, speaking on behalf of the non-member ESIs present, noted that perhaps Woodsy wasn’t the “cliquey” type personality that the Irregulars seem to emulate with such fervour. The ESIs present unanimously agreed that Woodsy was welcome to join their “clique”, allowing Woodsy to be part of a group that would snub all others and have dates for the prom and daddy’s car…

Item 9: Jesus

All made a nod to the big-J, on a day that wasn’t so good for him, even though it’s called Good Friday. The Chair noted that it was such an ironic use of adjectives in the Catholic Church that probably contributed to his lapse in faith and why he always gets the giggles when he visits the Stations of the Cross.

Item 10: Other business

Dwarfie shared some blog statistics with the members. His chart suggests that blogging about hair and/or Kady O’Malley seems to draw in the readers -- as does having provocative words in our posting titles. Aggie confessed she deliberately chose her title to up our hit count in her last posting. The Chair noted this phenomenon and duly changed the title for the Emergency Meeting minutes.

Someone raised the issue of the ESI position on Clinton vs. Obama. The ESIs did not take a political stand except to state that either would be welcome to do a guest blog. Details were going to be discussed with Zoom on setting up an eBay invite to candidates.

All other matters having been considered, the formal part of the meeting was adjourned with the arrival of Woodsy and the ESIs' special guest – Zoom.

Item 5: Special Presentation to Zoom

Zoom arrived and exclaimed, “So, you’re all real!" That said, all engaged in further discussion on the events of our times over a few cold beverages. I’m sure Zoom will give you all the details.

Bad poetry and hot sex

I'm in Ottawa now, and am enjoying all the Mayor Larry stuff, I must say. But, really, seriously, how can we bring this guy down? I've put this on the agenda for the next ESI Emergency Meeting. Stay tuned.

In other news, one Ottawa blogger is not happy with the quality of men out there right now. It seems the choices are 1) sappy poetry, or 2) NSAHS (no-strings-attached-hot-sex). Hmmmm. I know which one I'd choose in a pinch... but, no matter!

I would like to reassure this blogger that things are going to shift soon. Spring brings change, which means relationship bust-ups, which equals (desperate) available or available-ish men. There still may be the bad poetry/hot sex offerings, but there may be some lads who at least know how to package themselves a bit better.

Blogging with Freya

Freya is sitting on my lap as I type this. She's purring like a muffled V-8 engine where one of the cylinders is missing a stroke. Or maybe it's more like the slant-6 on the old Plymouth Valiant. Anyway, it's loud for a cat.

I'm playing easy to get and lavishing her with attention so that she won't feel the need to sleep on my head tonight. Not that she slept on my head last night. She found somewhere to hide instead. This morning, the only evidence I had that she hadn't run off or gotten trapped down in the caves was that her food was gone and her litter box had been recently used.

But I hear that if you play hard to get with cats they sleep with you. I'm all for having a cat on my lap. It's one of life's true pleasures. But there are certain intimacies I prefer to restrict to my own species.

Perhaps it's because of a trauma I suffered many years ago in my youth. I was about 29 when a friend went away for a week. In exchange for looking after her cat, she let me drive her sports car. The cat was just a young thing, a street cat my friend had taken in. Let's call her Stella. Stella had been in for all its shots, but they were waiting until after she'd gone into heat the first time to do the operation that would prevent unwanted kittens.

As it happened, Stella experienced her first estrus while she was in my care. I knew the signs well having spent some time in a place where cats were encouraged to multiply. But I had never seen a cat in heat who wasn't allowed to run out and take care of her needs. This poor kitty was in distress, yowling and writhing. I called the animal hospital and described the situation. "Is there anything I can do to make her more comfortable?"

"Well," said the young woman, "you could take a cotton swab, like a q-tip, lubricate it with something like vaseline, and stimulate her vaginal opening. That might make her more comfortable and even help it end sooner."

Did I do it? Did I create a tiny cat dildo and then manually stimulate a kitten to the point where she got what she needed?

On one side of the issue was potential humiliation. On the other side was leaving a poor creature in distress. When I have a choice like this, I have a motto: The Dwarf does the difficult thing.

Was it good for Stella? I don't know, but she seemed a bit calmer afterwards.

As for me, there's a reason that I didn't have q-tips in my house even before they turned out to be deadly.

ESI Emergency Meeting Minutes

In Attendance: Coyote, Independent Observer, Agatha, Conch Shell,Fourth Dwarf (late, with justification). Guests: Crazy Hat (left early), Painted Stick (arrived shortly before end)

Conch Shell offers to take minutes. 4D and others laugh and mention how she never posted the last time she took the minutes. Coyote says CS will have to offer up assurances. CS offers to pay for a round of alcoholic drinks at the next Emergency Meeting if she doesn't post the minutes. It's agreed.

Agatha asks that the minutes reflect that Coyote brought red marshmallow hearts for the group, expressing love toward us all.

Meeting items begin.

IO presents his [redacted] to 4D for the [redacted]. Others are given a deadline extension of a week.

CS inquires if Z is a [redacted.] 4D explains she's too nice. Coyote mentions she called the cover band by the wrong name when she linked to them, further evidence that she isn't one of them.

Move ahead to the main item: the Appearance and Disappearance of [redacted]. CS wonders about the timing of it all, considering that it existed for months when we didn't know about it, but when we find it (Thanks, Aggie!) and begin to enjoy it, within two weeks it's gone.

Aggie: "Is it a Conspiracy?"

All ESIs insist that none of them did anything this time to ruin it for the others. Coyote points out that [redacted] showed her more readers were seeing it, plus she had friends warning her. This makes sense to us. 4D comments that he liked the message of [redacted] being [redacted].

IO puts on Larry King persona and asks: "What is her frame of mind, in one word?"

CS: "Consistent".

ESIs agree that it was enjoyable while it lasted.

Coyote comments that in his experience every woman calls her ex a narcissist. When ESIs attempt to draw personal examples from Coyote's own past, he refuses to indulge. Coyote adds that his canine nose sniffed out that this was an inappropriate relationship from the start, and he didn't think she should go on dates with [redacted] in the first place. 4D says that we all knew it was going to be a disaster, therefore Coyote doesn't deserve a bone. Aggie says she didn't know it would end so fast. Coyote blathers on generally about the rebound/needing time phenomenon. Everybody ignores him, as is usual when he gets onto this topic.

CS asks about whether [redacted] might become a lesbian now, considering all these disappointments. 4D says a lesbian fling is a possibility because all modern women are bisexual. He then asks CS and Aggie to comment on this. They don't.

4D returns tiresomely to the narcissism discussion and points out that narcissism can be relation-based. For instance, if a man is not that into his partner of the moment, he won't be that focused on her, but on himself -- classic narcissism. Coyote furthers that when a man plays a musical instrument or other entertainment tool for a long time, he should pay attention to when his audience gets bored.

Meeting digression: Clinton/Obama? Ann Coulter, Yuck. Is the U.S. anti-English monarchy or just anti-taxation? No decision taken.

[Redacted]: Sorry or Not?
Coyote says [redacted]. Aggie says [redacted]. 4D says it was a facebook problem, not a blog one.

Ethical Discussion of the Day: [Redacted] . . . can we metablog her? 4D points out that we periodically metablog others like Zoom and Megan. Aggie wonders if she'll get scared and delete her blog? It's pointed out that she's writing a book on her blog subject(!!!!) ESIs agree that it's about balance. Anyway, only the Fifth Muse has inspired us as obsessively, and that's unlikely to change. ESIs agree to test-metablog her through these minutes. All feel her date wasn't very successful, and think it good that Three Date Man was honest with her.

Aggie says online dating is depressing and degrading: suggests instead that all hopefuls go to Venus Envy, get some good electronics, and adopt cats. She insists this is what she'd do, if she were [redacted].

CS interrupts: "Let the minutes reveal that IO is blackberrying"

Some Hon. ESIs: "Bad form!!!" IO asks when that was decided.

Group discusses Rebecca Eckler's blog and the finer points of emotional voyeurism. ESIs then congratulate Zoom over her best blog posting awards. 4D states that the knitting bloggers had a lock on the awards, that it was a conspiracy, and a future blog entry will be dedicated to this.

Aggie wants to discuss the Bank Street Irrelevants. "They're trying hard."
IO: "Why?"

It's declared that they're like a [redacted] cover-band, are having a good time, and some ESIs are happy for them.

This brings the conversation around to music, the nature of compliments and insults, and their relativity. It's revealed that IO is a fan of the [redacted] without having ever heard them. CS thinks one can't be a fan in such a scenario. 4D believes IO can be a true fan, just by understanding the concept. CS comments that this is as hollow as an empty shell. Others ignore CS and comment that IO should look the part of [redacted] when he's their [redacted].

Aggie points out that she deleted [redacted] because it revealed [redacted] about [redacted ].

Next Agenda Item: status of our blog & Google search hits. 4D says it's a good blog and he's happy with the postings lately. He likes the Word Cop part, because [redacted] loves it. Coyote states that our #1 Google search hit is for "high maintenance women". 4D loudly takes credit for the posting, and reveals Google ranking tricks: the posting is titled "high maintenance women" and it links to other sites about "high maintenance women". Coyote states that "Mumumelon" is our second mopst popular Google hit, and yoga booty ballet is a distant third. We used to get more hits for yoga.

With all topics covered, we move to Action Items:

Aggie states the next meeting should involve discussion on how to make ESI the most popular blog ever, so we can make money and retire. 4D mentions that CS needs to write up the minutes.

Resolved: That at some point in the future we will discuss creating the Elgin Street Institute, as another moneymaker.

Meeting Adjourned.

Friday night with Fourth Dwarf

Being the generous fellow I am, I took a break from meta-blogging Friday evening to give a young lady a night on the town. Overall a fine evening

#1: Pub-Blogging the Atomic Rooster

"Let's try this place," I suggested figuring the name indicated a chance I could get a well-cooked chicken. My companion spotted a veggie burger on the menu she thought she could get along with.

A responsible restaurant reviewer would give the Atomic Rooster a few more tries, but I'm neither a restaurant reviewer nor responsible.

The food: Being not so hungry, I only ordered half a chicken with Garlic Smashed Potatoes and grilled vegetables. To my surprise they gave me the front half of the chicken. A white meat fan would be pleased by this, but I'm not a white meat fan. Alas, when I pointed this out to the waitress, she told me that it was all the cook had and it would take too long to cook a hind quarter. Have I been ordering whole chickens so long that I've missed this new trend in half-chicken cooking?

The Garlic Smashed Potatoes were not well-named unless a fellow named Garlic did the smashing.

The grilled vegetables were tasty.

My companion reported her veggie burger was ho hum and the salsa tasted like it came in a bottle.

Decor: Nice bright paintings on the wall. But something was missing. Can't quite say what. The space felt too much like a cafeteria. And nothing said "atomic" to me.

Extra touches: Other diners apparently had nice napkin rings and received free grapes after their meal. We did not.

Verdict: Not a replacement for the usual spot.

#2: Sexapalooza

Waiting in line to get in, a young security guard checked everyone's identification. Other adults in the line thought this inappropriate, especially for me with my long beard that has a touch of grey in it. "No, no," I explained to the incredulous attendees, "if we look like we may be 25, he has to ask."

For $15 each, we received a coupon for 30 minutes of free adult movies from the internet and had the opportunity to wander around the crowded basement of Lansdowne Park and see:

• Various items for sale that I understand are readily available in several downtown and suburban locations;
• Fully dressed woman disinterestedly demonstrating a form of dance that relies on a vertical pole;
• Other woman standing on stage and impersonating Meg Ryan at the delicatessen in
  When Harry met Sally; and
  
• A large woman tapping the naked breasts and stomach of a smaller woman who was strapped to a wooden frame. ("Very nice breasts," my companion overheard another woman say to her friend.)

In short, it was a waste of $30 because I don't need to go to Sexapalooza to find any of that. "What they needed," suggested my companion, "was lots of semi-clad beautiful men and women walking around handing out free samples."

#3: Celebrity Night at Spins'n'Needles

Aside from yours truly, I didn't spot any actual celebrities at this event. But the art was all about them. For people who didn't bring their own project to work on, the organizers had supplies for:

1. Celebrity paint by numbers
2. Celebrity collage
3. Celebrity finger puppets

I probably don't need to tell you that both my lovely companion and I decided to make finger puppets. This was a special treat for me because it was my first time using a glue gun. Wow!

People sitting near us did puppets, but also the paint by numbers. The results were stunning although we couldn't tell if the woman was Britney Spears or Lindsay Lohan and the man was either J.F. Kennedy, Matt Damon or Brad Pitt.

No question about it, Spins'n'Needles was the best part of the outing.

Denouement

On the way back to the cave, a woman who got off the bus behind us called out, "Excuse me, you dropped these, do you want them?" She held up the adult movie coupons from Sexapalooza. They had been in my coat pocket with my mittens.

"Um, uh, yes." I took them from her. "I guess they fell out of my pocket when I took out my mittens."

"I thought maybe it was your way to invite me to a movie," she said.

"Ha, ha, no," I said. "Unless you want to go to a movie..."

AndrewZRX: Motorcycles, Birth Classes and Roundabouts

This is a guest posting from AndrewZRX:

I recently blew up my motorcycle. I wouldn’t do this every day, but I’d highly recommend you try it at least once.

Wait - how does pre-natal classes at 7:30 am on a fucking Saturday morning sound? With my tongue still pickled, too, from the scotch the night before. Soften that cervix, baby.

No, the motorcycle sounds better. Or it did, anyways, before it blew up. Have you ever seen piston rods blasting out the front-end of a high-revving four-cylinder 1100cc motorcycle engine?

The midwife droned on for three full hours, using stained, filthy props and plastic posters of a graphical nature. The most interesting bit was the bit about the placenta -- or, more precisely, what people do with it afterwards. Some bury it in the garden during the full moon. Incantations are involved. Some people take them home and eat them. Apparently they’re quite tasty with garlic.

Actually, neither have I. (Seen the piston rods etc.). But as it was happening I was worried about grievous bodily harm, if you follow. Luckily all is well. So says my wife at least.

Do Canadians eat their babies’ placentas? I don’t know. But I sure miss Canada. I have a soft spot for those Canadian government screw-ups. Scandals in Canada rarely involve 25 million lost records, or illegal wars, or the shooting of innocents in the back. Canadian screw-ups are generally benign, and I miss them.

I miss the seasons, too, but at least over here I can ride my bike year round. It gets slippy in the roundabouts sometimes, but you can still do it. Roundabouts are a good thing. We should have them in Canada.

Here a few things you should know about roundabouts:

• If you like, you can go round and round. Just keep going. Beware of dizziness.

• There can be several lanes in a roundabout. Incorrect use of roundabout lanes can result in permanent disfigurement and embarrassment. Utilize with caution.

• It’s usually best to figure out where you’re going before you enter the roundabout. Otherwise you may get herded and end up in East Kilbride.

• Roundabouts can creep on a man. You can prepare yourself for this irritating tendency by driving faster than everyone else. When the roundabout materializes out of the Scottish mist, just claim it as your own.

• Roundabouts are not the place to be gentle and kind. Be assertive. Exercise your roundabout rights.

• When you start seeing signs for East Kilbride, you are lost. Do not head for East Kilbride. Circle back and try again.

• Drive on the left. This can take some time to master. But it’s fairly important. Watch for roundabout combatants coming from the right.

• Roundabouts are a serious business. Remember this and you’ll do fine.

It seems there are a few things you should know about labour as well. But I can’t seem to remember. She kept heading off on these strange tangents, telling fragmented stories. My mind wandered. Once in awhile my ears would perk up, expecting to finally hear something useful. But then she’d backtrack again, and I’d drone out. I was thinking about a bass riff in a John Scofield song called Over Big Top. The bass gets right in there and opens up doors.

We’re due at the end of January, so I just bought a new motorcycle. It’s black and shiny and pulls wheelies without much effort. Maybe I’ll get a sidecar for the wean. Hopefully I won’t blow this one up too.

AndrewZRX lives in Scotland and bought the opportunity to post here from Zoom in an auction on eBay. If you are wondering what placenta looks like, he offers this link.

More People Trying to Limit my Dating Life

Bad enough that the Chair set out strict limits on who I get to go out with, there's a bunch of Midwesterners producing propaganda reels.

Click To Play

Dental Dysfunction Week

Um, okay Short Guy, thanks for that information. But I'm thinking it's time for a big Dysfunction Theme Week. And while the idea of Pentacostals datin' Goths sounds adequately dysfunctional, I've opted for dentistry.

Why? Because it is apparent from the IDonCherryO's (Cherry-Os? Har!) post, Aggie's morose reply, and previous discussions involving Conch Shell and electric toothbrushes that dentists and their evil minions, hygienists, are in the heavy guilt business. Guilt far worse than your mother laid on you for not calling on Mothers' Day.

To be fair, it's probably more transitory. Ya go to the dentist for your (depending on your insurance package) six-month/one-year/five year checkup, are soundly chastised and feel terrible for a bit, then leave with a hole in your equity. Soon you forget, and the smile on your lips and the song in your heart returns. Until the next appointment, when everyone again picks up their assigned part in the eternal morality play. Whereas Mom is going to make sure you remember her for next time. She started coming by the psy-ops tools instinctively, about the time you were in utero, and she is not afraid to use them.

Being a wild canine, equipped with wild canines, my dental amenities began and end with the odd stolen Milk Bone, allegedly to scrape tartar and improve breath. Anybody who's ever smelled a dog's breath knows that this is rarely adequate. I hereby recuse myself from this discussion.

But I know that straight, blindingly white teeth are part of the total package that wins you the heart of your prospective Pentecostal Goth amour. Why is it that dentists and their evil minions, hygienists, do not bear down on this fact?

I mean, let's face it people. For some, giving up coffee and red wine to prevent unattractive staining may lead to even more unattractive withdrawal symptoms. Flossing is messy, what with all the drool and stray bits of cotton wedging irredeemably between your teeth. Veneers, no matter that all of the extreme makeover shows on extended cable treat them as mere casual afterthoughts to a complete body lipo/hair extension/lip-and-boob-pump/nose-job/wardrobe refresh, can involve much discomfort before the deed's done. And electric toothbrushes make your eyes jiggle.

There's gotta a be a payoff. If you're going to put up with all that discomfort and lost time, you want to be assured that the Pentecostal Goth of your dreams will look upon you kindly. Yet strangely, none of the e-dating sites seem to have a 'flosses regularly' check box. Now why is that? It'd certainly motivate more flossing. Although not, perhaps, less coffee or red wine. Yet you'd think prospective dates would be crying out for this kinda data...

image: dentist.net