Crowing Cock

I call Dwarfie for advice and he answers with his usual crusty this better be important grunt for a salutation.

"Hi, Dwarfie, I'm confused about something. Do you have a minute?"

"What's up, Toots?"

"I was reading Tiana's blog, and for the second time she mentions that her son has a giant cock. I can't explain it, but it bothers me to read that."

"That's because a cock is something you have sex with..."

"That's it," I respond relieved, "and on a baby..."

"You'd call it something else."

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.

Talk to The Hand

After one of the wilder weeks in Canadian political history, early pundications suggest the PM outmaneuvered his coalition opponents. The right-leaning ones say this makes him a freakin' genius.

Over the longer term, I'm not so sure. He needed to fuel a huge ideological shit storm to survive - on top of dropping the cynical fiscal stink bomb that started the Houseparty in the first place.

Fans of 60s cinema recall that Dr. Strangelove had an "alien hand". He claimed to be a reconstructed democrat, but The Hand was an unreconstructed Nazi bent on world destruction. Such that, whenever the doc talked about how to pull the world back from the edge of annihilation, The Hand leaped up to strangle him.

I'm starting to see a mental version of The Hand behind the PM's actions. Every time his mouth shapes even mild conciliation toward non-conservatives, this thing leaps out, gibbering, to smash the thought and sow chaos. He can't help it. It's bred in the bone. Given a choice between statesmanship and cheap shots at political opponents, his deepest instinct is to try to lull 'em just long enough to line up a better kick at their goolies. It's a strange way to build consensus - or a nation. And all the more marked for its contrast with recent events to the south of us.

I've said before that I think the guy played too many world-domination-themed board games in his geeky undergrad dorm. He can't drop the short sighted mindset of 'screw everybody to win the game'. And he surrounds himself only with like-minded gamesters.

So for him to reach across the (now padlocked) floor with conciliaTory words, after the week that was, seems even more disingenuous than blue sweater vests or platitudes about new eras of cooperation. You know, the things that preceded the tone-deafness of his infamously partisan fiscal update. His return to sweet reason seems perfunctory to the point of disinterest. I suspect that as with every preceding example we have available, he won't be bothered to fake it for any longer than he has to. In a crisis, he thinks he can outsmart anybody. Trouble is, his own lousy instincts have sparked the fuses on most of the country's recent crises.

Thing about classic movies, is that the guys who wrote them know their drama. (So do 6,000 year old, semi-mythical coyotes. We had drive-ins back west, y'know... and, it seems, longer memories and better civics lessons than much of the Canadian electorate. I digress.) The central figures in Greek and Shakespearean tragedy all have fatal flaws. Some far less obvious than the PM's metaphorical hand. I worry that this has the makings of a G(r)eek tragedy for Canada.

Breaking News: les drôles amies tell PM to take his prorogue and...

A PM gets his highly irregular prorogue. Three Coalition leaders hit a noon rally on Parliament Hill and vow to remain coalesced. And to keep swinging. The second-guessing and chivvying begins. So, everybody, get your coveralls and umbrellas ready. I hear Mr. Harper's well-oiled, well-financed platoon of motorized manure spreaders idling just offstage. And Mr Layton's motormouth just beginning to warm up. The upshot? Dunno. The only certainties are that it's gonna be a long six weeks until parliament is recalled. And that it's going to get ugly...er.

It Could Have Been Worse for the Liberals...

Take 1

Take 2

Take 3

Take 4