OBSCENE

Boobs. Men (usually) like them and women (usually) have them. This is a universal truth. Your mom has 'em, your sister has 'em, old Granny Gertrude had 'em - bless her heart. So why are Americans so outraged at the sight of them?

A friend sent me this article today knowing full well it would get my gander up. And it did. It seems that the image of an androgynous looking fella wearing glam make up and hair set in curlers has some folks stateside throwing a conniption. But it's not because a dude is in make-up. It's because it LOOKS LIKE it COULD BE a woman, and that possible woman is showing her...

Boobs.

Really America? I thought we had gotten over our collective fear of titties. I guess I was wrong. So wrong in fact that popular stores have bagged this issue of Dossier Magazine as if it were the latest issue of JUGS. And it isn't even a woman! When did breasts go from being sexy, awesome things to admire and play with to something we need to cover and hide?

Oh! The ignominy of breasts! We must shield our children from them! Well, after we nurse them. Breasts seem to be fine things when you are a baby and when you are an adult, but somewhere in between they turn into horrible things that will rob our youth of its innocence and wonder. They are obscene! 

Well, fuck that. I have lived in Europe going on five years now and I gotta tell ya - boobs are just boobs. Nobody here seems to have a problem with them. You can see them in the park on sunny days and in some restaurants on Topless Tuesday's. You see them in strip clubs and posters in the metro. A big deal you say? Psh! They are just boobs.

Get over it.

Papa Can You Hear Me?

I am Arnold Schwarzenegger's love child. I know. It came as a shock to me too. 

I am adopted, as most of you know. And most of you also know that I have always figured I am Liza Minnelli's illegitimate daughter who she was forced to give up in order to pursue her dreams. (Cue "Liza with a Z, not Lisa with an S") This would explain my height, complexion, and my outstanding belt. I just never had any idea who the daddy could have been. And let's face it - it could have been any number of people. This was the hey day of Studio 54.

Back in 1974, (the year of my birth) The Arnold was all muscle all the time. He was showing those gross, beefy pecks all over the place. It would stand to reason that he and Liza hooked up on some huge coke bender while enjoying the nightlife and the boogie at Studio 54. She probably had to pretend to gain weight to hide the pregnancy, and Arnold shrugged responsibility in order to pursue his glorious acting career. It all adds up. It definitely explains my massive muscles and pension for Conan movies. 

When the news broke about this "other" love child I was a little miffed. First off, my story is way better. And second, there is no good reason for anybody to give a damn. It's none of "our" business who my illegitimate celebrity dad screws and then keeps on staff while hiding it from his friends and family. Geesh. 

Go Big or Go Home

If you ask any Czech what the Czechs are best at, they are bound to say beer. And Hockey. And soccer. Actually (like American's) most Czechs believe themselves to be superior in all aspects of life. But the one area that they claim absolute dominance is Pivo. (That's beer to you.) In order to celebrate their achievement in the glories of alcohol and alcoholism, and to have yet another reason to drink vast amounts of beer in the middle of the day, they have the Czech Beer Festival. 

The Beer Festival is one of many festivals that celebrate alcohol here in the CZ. And that's great. It should be celebrated! And what better way to celebrate alcohol than by drinking grotesque quantities of it? The Beer Fest features big tents, (ala Ocktober Fest) live music, carnival rides, food and of course beer. You buy "Tolars" which are then used in exchange for all of the above. It's a good system that cuts down on waiting time for booze.

I hijacked a few of my friends on Thursday and we went to the opening day festivities. Upon walking into the tent I had flashbacks of last years beer festival. I recall being so happy (read: drunk) that I started dancing on the table. Hopefully this year would be just as fun. And it was. There was much beer, much laughter and much dancing - although I kept my feet planted on the floor this year. It is a favorite pass time of mine to watch Czech people dancing, so I got double amounts of enjoyment.

We were drinking 15 degree beer (that's about 5% alcohol) so it didn't take long for us to be drunk and rowdy. Which is okay. Everyone in the tents gets drunk and rowdy. It is said that adult Czechs drink about 80 gallons of beer a year, so you gotta do your best to catch up. They take drinking and beer very seriously here. They don't really bar hop and they are the most loyal drinkers I have ever encountered. I have a Czech friend that has been known to bring his own beer mug to pubs so that he has the "right" glass to drink from. One of my former students put it this way: For Czechs in one night you must stay loyal to one woman and to one beer. Ain't that the truth?

My friends and I eventually stumbled out of the tent and made our way past all of the rides. Almost. They took me against my will and harnessed into a spinning torture device deceptively decorated with bright lights and happy colors. The machine lifted us high into the air and spun around whilst swinging to the front, side and back in a seemingly random order. I don't remember much of the ride because I had my eyes shut the whole time and my hood pulled down over my head.

I can still hear the screaming...

I won't kick you out of bed for eating crackers but...

We've all heard the adage. It states that the person in question is so good-looking that they are allowed the horrible crime of eating crackers in bed, and thusly leaving crumbs. I guess ugly people are relegated to eating their crackers over a dish in the kitchen while the hotties of the world rejoice in the freedom of the bed/cracker loop-hole. Personally I have never eaten crackers in bed (mine or anyone else's) because I don't want to sleep in crumbs and its kind of a jacked up thing to do in someone else's bed. 

But it got me thinking... what would I kick a guy out of bed over? 

The statement says "kick out of bed" which means that you already have the guy (or gal) back at your place and ready for some action. What would he have to do that is so bad that you tell him to get out of bed and leave? At first I thought things like, "Any guy who doesn't read is out." But honestly if a dude slipped through my rigorous 17 point screening process, managed to get back home with me, and get naked before I found out that he thinks of books as paper weights - then I guess the joke is on me and he can stay. ONCE. But that doesn't really get to the heart of the question.

If I had Brad Pitt (or some other super hot man) in my bed and he started eating crackers, I wouldn't say a damned thing. If he farted? Yep, he could stay. Burp? Sure, why not? Called another woman? Ahhh... now we're talking.

I think my line is a pretty simple one. RESPECT. I would have no qualms about kicking a guy out of my bed (or my life for that matter) who didn't respect me. You might be the best looking guy in the world, but if you call another woman in front of me you are out on your ass. That goes for personal insults too. I don't mind if someone disagrees with my taste in books or music, but if a fella starts making rude comments about my body or personality while in various stages of undress, well, his butt is gone.

And I'm keeping the crackers. He probably wouldn't have shared anyway. 

Mommie Dearest

Moms. They cooked for you, cleaned your butt, bought you stuff, possibly bailed you out of jail once or twice and even pretended to like that loser boyfriend you had back when you were twenty-something. Sure they yelled and screamed and gave you that "I am so disappointed in you" look, but let's face it - you were probably a little disappointing at times. From what I understand moms have the toughest job in the world. I wouldn't know because I am not a mom, but mom's sure like to say it, so who am I to argue. With Mother's Day quickly approaching I thought I would take a minute to pay tribute to some of my favorite mom's. 

1. My Mom. Hell, She had to put up with me and my brother growing up and for that fact alone she deserves a medal. But she also makes the world's best cinnamon rolls, let's me watch Wife Swap when I come to visit and sends me care packages. Thanks Mom!
2. Carol Brady. Great hair. Great parenting. Great pant suits.
3. Rosanne. My best friend and I always admired brassy demeanor and no-nonsense attitude with kids. She is kind of the Anti-Carol Brady and I dig that. What? 
4. Faye Dunaway as Joan Crawford. I didn't say Joan Crawford because that woman was NOT a good mom. But the MOVIE version, well that is just pure genius. Not only does she beat the crap out of her kids, she looks incredible doing it! Never before has a bath robe and Dutch Boy cleanser looked so chic.
5. Caroline Ingalls. And again, I am going for the fictional version here. She is pretty much the best mom ever. She is hot. Her kids like her. She's smart. Her husband is pretty badass. Caroline Ingalls should have had a workshop on the Prairie for how to be a good wife and mother.

So here's to all you mom's out there. Thanks for all the cookies and the band aids on skinned knees. Thank you for the slumber parties and gymnastic lessons. Thanks for the extra cash in the bank account when funds ran low. Thanks for the pep talks and even for the fights. And, thanks for telling us not to smoke and have sex - we did it anyway but you can rest assured it totally wasn't your fault.  

We wouldn't have turned out the way we did without you.

Of Weddings and Deaths

"The whole world is watching!"

Someone I know posted that statement on Facebook in regards to The Royal Wedding. I remember back when Chuck and Di got hitched (pre internet, of course) it seemed like the world stopped to watch. I was just seven years old, but I got dressed up to watch a real live woman have a fairy tale wedding. I was enthralled. Now thirty years later and I couldn't care less. Why was the whole world watching a wedding for the British Monarchy? I think people would have realized the failure of this idea back when Anne Boleyn lost her head. But no. The Brits still have a "Queen" and the rest of us still pretend to care. The Wedding cost tax payers 20 million pounds. That's a lot of money for a wedding that you weren't even invited to. Not even a slice of cake! It reminds me of how the folks in L.A. got mad at the cost for Michael Jackson's funeral.

And speaking of dead guys...

Again, the whole world is watching as the US claims some pretty morbid bragging rights over the long-awaited death of Bin Laden. As a country we have been literally hunting this man for a decade. That in and of itself is unsettling to me. Add to it the celebrations erupting all over the USA, and I get a little nauseated. Sure the guy was a murdering, greedy, asshole - I get that. When Saddam Hussein was executed, I had similar feelings. I was living here in Prague at the time and my students asked me about my feelings. It was hard for me to explain to them that I was not "happy" he was dead. They said that they didn't understand.

I have been giving it some thought over the past couple of days. My older Czech students said that they "rejoiced" when Reinhard Heydrich was killed. He was known as "the Butcher of Prague". Maybe if I had been personally affected by the acts of these evil men I might feel more passionately about their deaths. Or would I?

I like to think of myself as a good person. I don't believe in the death penalty because I don't think that Government sanctioned killing is ever a good idea. Not even for rapists and murders. And that is what happened with Bin Ladden. We killed him. I have a moral dilemma when it comes to the evil that men do. Because, if killing is evil and bad then it has to be evil and bad ALL THE TIME - not just "bad" when "bad people" do it.

The whole world IS watching. They are watching our country get excited about a wedding that has nothing to do with us. They are watching us proclaim to be the greatest nation on earth because we killed a man. They are watching us police the world while our own country can't agree on even the smallest things. When my country decides that two people of the same-sex can legally be married, that is when I will rejoice. When my country stops listening to anyone who has enough money to be heard (TRUMP, I'm talking to you) I will rejoice. I know this post seems disjointed, and maybe it is. I am just baffled by our fascination with the rest of the world when we can't figure ourselves out. So, I guess for now I am going to hope the best for those two Brit kids, hope that the death of Bin Laden will somehow benefit the rest of the world, and contemplate the larger problems facing America today - who will win American Idol?