Farts and Weiners

I've got a couple of WAY important things on my mind this chilly, grey, drizzly morning. 

1.

When did fart jokes become funny to me. Honestly, I’m a 54 year old lady type human -- when did my humor sink to the level of a 12 year old boy? To be fair, it’s not so much the air biscuit jokes that I’m finding so hilarious -- except for that scene in Blazing Saddles but, c’mon, that’s just priceless -- it’s the arse acoustics themselves.

Here’s one way to tell that you and your family are totally compatible and comfy:

Jen, Oni, The Amazing Bob and I will be sitting around jawing, reading, listening to the game (Red Sox of course!) when all of a sudden there’s a loud noise. I don’t hear it of course but I see that two of us four are looking around all OK-who-did-the-deed faced. And then we all break out in giggles.

Yeah, we’re SOOOOOO mature. It’s not like we TRY to engage in frequent back door duck calls. No. We’re naturally talented and not embarrassed about normal bodily functions. With each other, that is.

One weird thing, TAB and I find that bookstores seem to inspire us to Toccata and Fugue-esque proot-proots . Jen’s theory is that my entire body relaxes the minute I cross the Havard Bookstore’s threshold. I’m in my happy place and if fizz-fuzzing while you’re in your happy place is wrong, well boyhowdy, I don’t wanna be right!

2.

Regarding the whole Anthony Weiner/Weinergate thing -- I sincerely don’t give a damn about what anyone does in the privacy of their own home, car backseat or Oval Office (as long as it’s all consensual of course). I mean, rilly now, get your wild freak flags flying and have big fun BUT, for Kali’s sake, if you’re gonna run for public office or hold any kind of big time responsible position in the community, it would be smart to exercise a good deal of discretion. Most of us just don't want to know these things and we can't UNknow them once told.

Here are a few other thoughts on this truly significant, weighty matter //snort//:

From a comment thread on a friend’s Facebook post about the NYC mayoral candidate with poor impulse control:

The thing I don't get is why men think that women want to look at photos of their wangs in the FIRST place.

Guys, if you ever text your lady a photo of your junk and she reacts with something like, "that's hot," she's lying. It's not the same as when WE send photos of boobs, which you all seem to enjoy.

Don't get me wrong, we LIKE penises, and we appreciate the majesty of those that are well-looked after, and we certainly enjoy making good use of them, but receiving a photo of one on our phone feels just a small step away from being spanked in the face with it. "Subtlety" has long since faded into the distance of the rear-view mirror at that point.

Generally, when we get sent a dick photo, you know what we think? We think, "Oh, look. A dick."

And, if we're art school graduates, we follow that thought with a yawn.

From TBogg:

For Anthony Weiner: Nobody wants to see your dick. Nobody. Ever. Not even on Grindr. Stop humiliating your wife, unless she wants to be humiliated … I don’t judge. If you must share peen with the world, please  drop out of the race and devote yourself to occasional show-and-tells on the subway where such behavior is considered quaint, but been-there-seen-that. And if you must share schlong pictures via the intertubes, please restrict them to emails to Bob Filner’s fleshlight at bobfilnersfleshlight@cox.net. (go to his post  to get a little more of the funny). 

BTW. Bob Filner is the fuck up mayor of San Diego, where Mr. Bogg resides.

and from the Facebook page ‘Whiskey and the Morning After’:

I'm not sure which is more scummy: 



1. Continuing to send pictures of your junk to random women on the internet after you resigned from Congress in shame. 



2. Being that random woman on the internet who knew full well who you were, repeatedly engaged in documented sexually explicit chats and then sold her story to Inside Edition.



3. Being the co-admin of the same "liberal" Facebook page as Ms. Leathers, knowing what was going on and after realizing you weren't going to get your cut of the proceeds, expose her real identity so you could cash in as well.

I have the feeling this is going to get even more interesting.

Oh yeah. Pass the popcorn please!