Picture Perfect

Hello girls and boys (no boys actually view this).
Today, I would like to talk to you about sex and gender.

But mostly about sex.

I quote, allegedly from Mrs. W. Bush:
""Take it from me, girls – there's no good reason to rush into S-E-X. That's why I hope these scientific facts help you choose abstinence, so you need never know the heartbreak of being trapped in a loveless marriage just because you drank too many margaritas one night and gave up your honey pot to a pushy young cokehead from a so-called 'good family.'"

More can be viewed on: http://www.ironhymen.com/boysprivates.asp  

If you're a boy, which neither of you are, the following is for you, and I quote once more, this time from someone else:
"Having sex is NOT cool, no matter what the mainstream liberal media tells you. Girls' vaginas are just like venus flytraps: multi-fanged jaws waiting for your tasty bits to slither into their poisonous quicksand. So no matter how much it seems to hurt not to find solace in sticky backseat groping sessions, don't give in to temptation. But how? Simple! Just get heavy into these ten awesome sex-avoidance activities!"

Feel intrigued? Go and visit: http://www.sexisforfags.com/no-sex.asp 

I take no responsibility for hilarity, epileptic fits, boredom, or anything else as a result of your viewing these sites.

No Pain, No Gain
I bit my tongue today.
If that were figuarative, that would be quite an accomplishment, but unfortunately for me, it was literal. I actually bit my tongue. I'm pleased that I didn't bite it right off, but even so, it hurts like...like...well, exactly like when you bite your tongue really hard, actually.

The Amnesty International Chapter
In other news, I went to an Amnesty International meeting today at my university, to help decide whether or not AI should take a stance on abortion, and what that stance should be. I, of course, implored the members to consider that AI shouldn't be involved in an individual's life to this extent, that the AI mission statement doesn't actually cover abortion and that many religious people supporting AI would be alienated should they take a stance on it. And so we voted...but the representative from the Woman's Lib society kept looking at me every so often and even smiled at me, which made me very nervous. And it felt like she kept glancing over to see what I would vote for. This did not deter me from a NO vote, however. I remained firm. After this first round of voting, it was decided AI should take a stance on abortion, despite my efforts, gaining just two votes against the motion, to the 11 casted for.

Once it was decided AI was to be involved, I believe AI should go all the way in abortion matters (despite my religious values) and voted to that effect on the second and third motions tabled.

Yesterday: The Fencing Brief
So fencing continued, and The Hulk kept poking me in the neck. Hard. Y'know where the throat is? There. I had my revenge, however. I've noticed that some of the females I fence have a tendancy to burst into laughter depending on where I poke them with the sword. I intend to only poke them in those places, from now on. Meh heh heh. I had the pleasure, yet again, of not only undressing French Girl, but being undressed by French Girl (she asked if she could undress me! Ok, what she actually said was "would you like me to help you?" - who wouldn't?
Who knows? Maybe next week I'll talk to her! Of course, our cross-train-platform antics have been kept up; she is a very funny individual. She played air-guitar this time. It appears our relationship has moved significantly forwards.

Paris: Takin' it by Storm!
Don't worry, everyone! The Arc de Triumph is still there, as is the Tour Eiffel. The 24 hours spent there was absolutely lovely. Unfortunately, it feels like it was ages ago. As I mentioned to Cat, I noticed the French girls wear more make-up and perfume: so they look funny and smell nice.

Sunday morning at 6:00am
I did actually wake up at 6:00am. It was very cold.
I picked up AG from the coach station at about 6:50am. I then proceeded to spend the next 13 hours with her - nonstop. This includes the 3 minutes in which I locked her in a car, waved menacingly at her and went away. Oh, it wasn't so bad. The driver's window was open slightly and my sister was in there too (though she later excaped by climing through to the driver's seat, and opening the door by sticking her arm out the window, something AG, it appeared, was reluctant to do. Of course, as my sister is my sister, she also taunted AG and didn't rush to her aid. I should sign her up for my world domination plans).

Sunday Morning Aftermath: The Dating Scene
AG has recently suggested that I go out with one of her friends, whom apparantly has sent me her regards. This sugggestion is acceptable...
Please note this is on top of another suggestion I go out with someone else's friend, and whom I have already met, but haven't seen for a while (scared her off, you think? Meh heh heh). WOoooo! I think this is the most interested people have been in me at any one time, since the day I was asked out by two girls within the space of 5 minutes (I refused them both. Hey, I didn't say I was logical, I said I sometimes thought logically). But that was before I turned 17, so doesn't count. Ok, it's true I've barely lived 3 years since I turned 17, but that's the way it goes.

The Dreaded P's: Parents, Plights and Pills
I don't have any plights or pills, I just needed stuff to make the title sound good. My parents and I continue to disagree with me on whether or not I should move to Canada and when I should get married. Interestingly, my father only disagrees with me on the second point, whilst my mother disagrees on both. She thinks I'm too young in the former case, and that I'd be "moving away from family" in the latter. I merely point out she not only moved countries when she was 17 - 3 whole years younger than me - but was engaged at self same age of 17 - again, three years younger than myself. That, of course, was "different." We try not to mention these things.

Articles: Democracy at war
More info on this later. I'm actually expected at a friend's house 20 minutes ago, and was supposed to eat dinner at my grandmothers 10 minutes ago (yeah, so I double book occassionaly. Everyone knows I'm late anyway, despite my best efforts [Note to Arty: I'm always late for everything, except .... no, wait...I'm always late for everything]).

Anyway, gots to goes. Nice chatting with you all! Hope you enjoyed the summary of my past week! If not, tough!

Part one: 1:00am.

And I just came back from it!

Brilliance beyond brilliance...the lighting. The dancing. The champagne (yes, that's right, champagne!). The girls.
The girls! All so pretty. And so cute. Why oh why can I just have one? Who made up that rule? So unfair.

I may have drank a little champagne over the course (a bottle, actually) and may have influenced a girl or two to drink and drink some more. Meh heh heh. Loosen up a lil' 'aint gonna hurt.

Talking about lil', I saw my not-yet-2 year old cousin today. She is the sweetest baby. She is, in fact, the steryotypical baby, cute podgy face, ginger hair, toothy smile, thumb-in-mouth default stance. Y'know the type. Comic book stuff here. brilliance.

 And now, because i'm very tired, i'm going to go. bye!

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Part two: 10:50pm
Rules Of Engagement: The Fencing Chapter. And loveliness.

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As I sit here with you, I can't help but breathe in the myriads upon myriads of dust particles currently polluting my air. The building works have found their way from the downstairs, to the upstairs of my house. I'm guessing this is because they've ripped out every room downstairs and are working on the upstairs now. The upshot is, i'm very uncomfortable. And breathing in dust. Which is so unhealthy.

Fencing today was good, though I was late, for reasons I shall explain later.
A whole bunch of new people joined the group today, about 7, so there's a whole host of new characters I can write about. Take The Hulk. He is so large, I have named him The Hulk. Of course, I'd never say that to his face, he'd probably beat me senseless pretty quickly. He pokes far too hard with his sword. I may have responded to this by annoying him with my blade and positioning it in a certain way that he gets poked when he pokes me. If you follow. Anyway, that's his fault for leaning to far forwards). Then there's Nervous Guy. He's ever so jumpy. And he gets more nervous when I ask him to stand a bit closer to my sword (in the nicest possible manner one can ask such a thing, of course. I mean, in effect, I'm asking "sorry old chap, would you mind standing closer to the point of my sword so I can hit you and cause you pain more easily? Ok? Charming!" At face value, hardly a benign request, but it is). There's The Borrower, too. Named after the TV-series of those teeny-tiny people "borrowing" things. So called, because she's teeny-tiny.

No worries, however, as French girl is still the prettiest person there (this includes the men) with the possible exception of the BFG (Yes, that's Big Friendly Giant. So called because...well, he's big, and ever so friendly. And he's very engaged) but that's for a post waaay more disturbing than this one. Frenchy. She's a lovely, lovely girl. I even managed to speak to her *gasp*. Actually, we yelled at each other from different sides of the platform [going in different directions on the same platform. Understand now? Yes? Good]. When I say "lovely" I don't mean "pretty" I mean chilled out, friendly, and just the right amount of crazy-ness [the crazy-O-metre works as follows (and actually measures character): If someone I just met makes a weird funny face at me, or if they do so in response to a weird face from me, they're delightfully crazy. If they don't know how to respond, ignore me and in no way interact, they are, i'm afraid to say, not comfortably crazy. That's right, kids. The aim is not to suffer from insanity, but to enjoy every moment of it. Therefore French Girls scores high for not only making funny faces at me first, but for responding to my own crazyness, especially the part with the flailing arms and the train]. So anyway, she's lovely as usual.

The other lovely girl is lovely in a different way.
She has the cutest features, actions, mannerisms and personality. I'm talking Bamby-eyes here kids, blushing, head-tilting. Y'know, the girly thing. She's also quite clever and logical. I found this out when pointing out she was very girly; she responded by saying that it wasn't surprising as she was, in fact, a girl (I told you she was logical). Over the course of our talkings, I also found out she's not afraid to speak her mind. All in all, she's the cutest, sweetest girl. And very pretty too.

I'm also taking her touring tomorrow. Woooo! I have to miss a few lectures to do this, but I would have missed them anyway. Just like I missed them for the past three weeks.

Also also, am going to Paris on Thursday with family peoples. Am missing 3 classes (out of 4!) and one lecture to do so. All in all, I think out of 6 lectures, i'll be going to three.

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A few things I'm pondering:

1. There is no such thing as an "aunt-in-law" (there should be).
2. If someone marries their uncle's wife's sister (their aunt-in-law), they will be both cousins and uncles to their uncle's kids. They will also be brothers-in-law to this aunt (uncle's wife).
3. The kids from this union would have a great uncle, but only an ordinary aunt (or would the aunt be upgraded to great aunt too?).
4. They and their kids will be made fun of in the playground.

• If someone married their uncle's first cousin, that would be weird.
• This also goes for a girl marrying her uncle.
• And for anyone marrying their own first cousins.
• Second cousins too.
• Hell, third cousins as well whilst we're at it. Even though I don't actually know what a third cousin is. Anyone care to explain?
• Anthropologically speaking, incest only applies to marriage, not sexual relations.
• In normal-person terms, incest is not forbidden in France (abolished by Napolean in 1810) the Netherlands, Luxembourg, Belgium, Portugal, Turkey, Japan, Argentina and Brazil. Germany may follow, but that's purely speculation on my part [there's an incest case trying at the moment there].

1. Marrying your cousin's cousin may be as weird as marrying your second cousin or your aunt-in-law, but not as weird as marrying your first cousin.
2. Marrying your sister is off the scale weirdness. Don't do it, please.
3. 1 in 2 people are bi-curious.
4. 1 in 100 people are incest-curious.
5. 1 in 1000 people marry their cousin In the USA.
6. Don't worry. I made up those statistics to scare you. I scare even myself sometimes. This is one of those times.
7. But the statistic in point number 5 is actually true. Scared? You should be. You could end up marrying your cousin!
8. Cousin-girls are less likely to miscarry then non-cousin girls.

I could go on with the fun family facts but shan't.

These thoughts filtered through my mind because I only recently met my aunt-in-law and uncle's first-cousin. They are both pretty, but my mind blanks out. It's too weird to contemplate them in terms further than contained in this post, which has already pushed the borders of weirdness.

Instead, I shall leave you with this thought: There's nothing like family!


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N.B.: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as is prettyness and the crazy-O-metre.

It's official.
My readership are not as innocent as they seem. In fact, they're pretty much down-right rude and in some cases, distrubing.

According to the statistics, more people get to my blog by typing questionable search requests into search engines such as Google, than those who type innocent ones. Most of the phrases searched for included the word "breast," part of a recent post. No doubt google turned it up due to the fact it was used, as Helen put it "more than once."

What's disturbing is not just what was typed, but how it was typed. Often, it was a completely innocent phrase with "breasts" attached to the end. Things like "inside edition reporter - breasts," "world poverty - breasts." Other phrases included "drunk texting" (stop binge-drinking!) "prostitution," a number of sexual acts including the word "breasts," and even people typing about penises. The more innocent phrases were in the minority and included the bizzare "bugs," "boy catching bugs" and "big flying bug!" Obviously someone with a bug fixation.

We learn a few things from this:
1) my readership aren't as innocent as I once thought (go to your rooms!)
2) my blog is the sauciest blog out there. For all your sexual needs, from prostitution to bugs, my blog is the place to go. 

Anyway, let's move on.

Today I woke up, rolled out of bed and went to university, remembering to change into clothes between those incidents. After lecture, I was on my way to the university library talking to a friend. The conversation went something like this:

Friend: Wot you doing?
Me: Dunno. Library. You?
(we are incapable of full sentences before 12:00pm)
Friend: Going home. To bed. Maybe do some work.
Me: Where's your dorms?
Friend: Near Tate Modern.
Me: Let's go there!
Friend: Ok!

And it really was that simple.
Of course the Tate, belonging to the people, is free; a concept Americans may have trouble understanding (calm yourselves! I know, it's revolutionary, but this is Europe). How cultured are us young Brits? We voluntarily go to a museum in our spare time! 

We didn't actually go for the art (not so cultured afterall). I kept well away from it. It's rubbish.
What I went for were the slides! Let's face it, the slides are the main attraction, the art is just some sort of bizzare decor you're vaguely aware of on your way down the slides. The actual building of the Tate Modern (TM) is in an old power station and it looks like it too. So modern, it sports poured concrete floors, visible, black in-your-face steel girders, the place looks massive and power-planty. As for the outside, I believe my observation was "they should knock it down and start again."

If you're thinking of going to the Tate Modern, the slides are the only things you should be going for. The rest is rubbish!