body image

Top 10 Blatant Ways To Tell Her You’re A Controlling, Manipulative Ass

In “Sexism is alive and well” news, I present you (under the grotesquely common mantra that “only thinness can be sexy, and sexiness is the trump card”)’s…

Top 10 Subtle Ways To Tell Her She’s Getting Fat

1: Take her to places where she has to wear a swimsuit…
…so she can question why she loves a manipulative jackass who wants to shame her publicly.

2: Leave “now” and “then” photos lying around…
…to humiliate her for no longer being what you originally were with her for, apparently: herself, minus the passage of time.

3: Schedule A Formal Date…
…so she can fret until then about the fact you’re using taking “a ton of pictures of the two of you” as a threat instead of a commemoration.

4: Ask her to wear an old dress…
…so she will feel ashamed when she no longer fits into clothes she wore before she birthed your ignorant spawn.

5: Playfully Grab Her Love Handles… [so] she recoils and feels embarrassment. Use this reaction to your advantage…
WHAT?! *fumes* Go sit in the corner and think about what you’ve done.

6: Improve Your Own Diet…
This one aaalmost worked up ’til “It might even be the only way of separating her from the fatty foods which have led to the current problem.” *arches eyebrow onto back of head* Seems to me the “current problem” is assholes who would follow these steps.

7: Serve Her Unsatisfactory Portions…
SDFSLFUWOEIFJSLDFKJSFLJSDFLJSDFS!!! Is she a child? Sir. Excuse me, sir: Are you dating a child? It HONEST TO GOD goes on to say “By making her ask for more food, you might succeed in SHAMING HER into an acknowledgment of her recent weight gain, and hopefully to instigate a conversation about what she’s going to do about it. If you feel as though you’re starving yourself in the process, remember you can always go back for more when she’s not looking.” I cannot even BEGIN to cover all the things that are so TOTALLY screwed up about that.

8: Set out on your own weight loss plan…
…later referred to as a “ploy,” and an apparently “tactful” one at that. Ploys and manipulation have no place in a relationship. I repeat: PLOYS AND MANIPULATION HAVE NO PLACE IN A RELATIONSHIP.

9: Sign her up for yoga under the pretence [sic] of “stress relief”…
…because the best way to show you care is to tell someone what to do, under the guise that it’ll be an enjoyable “spiritual cleanse,” while in reality “she may not realize that she’s being tricked into shedding a few pounds.”

10: Buy Her Clothes That Are Too Small… “Oh,” you might say, “I thought you were a size 8. Isn’t that what you were last summer?” The onus is now on her to do something about it.”

Top 1 Response

Top 1 Response

What would you trade for weight loss?

Okay folks, here’s the hypothetical deal:

How much time would you give?

How much time would you give, Ms. Aniston?

Scientists have discovered a way to melt away fat from the human body using computers/ lasers/ pills/ cream made from asteroids/ whatever. To test this new technology (for the sake of this post let’s assume we know the procedure isn’t dangerous) they’re currently offering this service free of charge. They can do an all-body slim down, remove predetermined amounts of fat from only certain areas, whatever you want, all with no messy side effects, follow up visits, bruising, scars, or stretch marks, and any possible *excess skin* or anything akin to that will also disappear. It’s your body. It’s your weight. It’s your call.

The single catch? Undergoing the process takes time off the end of your life.

That’s right. You want to shave off a li’l pre-wedding blubber? Want to ditch the muffin top before hitting the club? You can do it instantaneously! But it’s gonna cost you time…

So assuming you’re one o’ the millions out there who wish they could drop some poundage: how much would you be willing to pay? And what if the fat can return via normal weight gain methods (ie. poor diet, lack of exercise) after it’s been removed? Would it be less worth it to you in that scenario, or would you just have them slice off a few more days, weeks, or years when you noticed the return of the bulge?

And what would you trade? An hour per pound? A day per pound? A week? A month? Or would you be willing to give up even more than that? A year? A few years? Would you be willing to give up a significant chunk of time from the end of your life- whenever that may be- if it meant you’d receive a full body slim down to your weight of choice, knowing that future weight gain may result in your having to make this decision all over again when the pounds pile back on and you want to return to that thinner version of you?

Can’t think of this in terms of time? No problem! These are magical scientists who are more than willing to let you sacrifice other intangibles instead. Knowing this, what thing(s) other than time might you consider giving up if doing so meant you were to instantly reach your goal size? And it’s got to be something legit, here, folks. A skill, a memory, an opportunity– whatever.

And if not weight, what else would you consider giving up something for if doing so meant you were to instantly achieve some other goal? Significant muscle development? Regrowth of hair on your head? Becoming taller? Better teeth?

Or would you only trade intangibles for other intangibles? Say– a year off the end of your life in exchange for being a better singer? A prized childhood experience and all accompanying memories in exchange for being a better athlete?

Tawk amongst y’selves…

A Sexy, Star-Studded Wordle

WordPress keeps tabs for you on what terms people search for in Google that bring them to your blog.

I am a big fan of

Slap those two together and: Ta-Da…


Above is a word art image I created by pasting in every celebrity and “blue”  search term that has brought people to my blog into the “Create” box at It’s interesting to me to see what people are looking for, and who they’re looking for, from the seeming privacy of their home computers. It’s a strange thing being able to take a peek at that. For reference’s sake I’ve included a copy of the “pasted searches” in list format below. Fascinating.

And not just a little creepy.

And for those of you wondering: The bulk of the search terms (647 total as of the date of this post) that bring people to my blog have to do with ferrets, dunlap syndrome, theatre, names of people I’ve acted with, and quotes from Carrie, Death at a Funeral, Hellboy 2, and Waiting For Guffman.

Yep. My blog’s a veritable treasure trove of information on the tippiest toppiest of intellectual pursuits.

Without further ado, the list I used to create the above image:

aishwarya rai
beer girl images
belly flab (exact search appears 3 times)
boob growth videos
flat chest
flat chest girl
forgi sex
girl belly flab
girl naked outside
heavy legs
hot hot body image
itchy pantyhose (exact search appears 5 times)
jake gyllenhaal
jennifer aniston (exact search appears 2 times)
jessica alba exposed
jessica alba my space
jessica alba naked
jessica alba sex
jessica alba sex wallpapers
jessica alba wallpaper
jessica alba xxx (exact search appears 5 times)
jessica aniston bare arms
jessica de alba
karen kay 3rd shift
karen kay third shift
karen kay third shift pictures
kyra sedgwick
megan fox (exact search appears 2 times)
megan fox acne scars (exact search appears 7 times)
megan fox has bad acne scars
megan fox peoplepost
megan fox unclothed
megan fox’s picseries
nude flat chested females
nude photos karen kay third shift
omg jessica alba
pantyhose (exact search appears 7 times)
pantyhose and boots
pantyhose in the shower
pantyhose itchy
pantyhose or tights or stockings or nylons
pantyhose required
pantyhose zoey
porn page
see through shirt jessica alba
sex xxx jessica alba
show free clips of women wearing jeans so tight a guy can hardly put his hand inside them
skinny actresses (exact search appears 2 times)
street harassment
super-skinny naked lesbians
third shift karen kay
tori spelling (exact search appears 5 times)
totally nude girls
undressed women porn pics
xxx wallpapers
xxx wallpapers of actress
zoey deschanel (exact search appears 8 times)

For a total of: 1 search a piece for Aishwarya Rai, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Kyra Sedgwick; 2 for Jennifer Aniston (+ 1 for “Jessica” Aniston); 4 for Karen Kay (the sports radio announcer, I’m assuming, and not the romance novel author); 5 for Tori Spelling; 9 for Zoey Deschanel; 13 for Megan Fox; 15 for Jessica Alba; and 18 for pantyhose

I think it’s interesting to note that when searching for Megan Fox, arguably to many the most attractive person on this list, people are searching for her in conjunction with alleged physical blemishes (ie. acne scars) more than half the time (8 out of 13 searches). What does this say about “we the searchers”? Thoughts? Opinions?


You know that part in “Princess Bride” where the albino coughs out “the depths of despaaaaair”? That line has been in my head all day. That and “some I murder, some I let go.” At least the second line can be sung, and it helps to have music… in something… somewhere…

The depths of despair. I’m in them.

And then there’s this nonsense for when you need the world to make just a little less sense

1) Does this face look like the face of any woman you’ve ever known two months after giving birth (nsfw)?

2) Do these arms look like the arms of any woman you’ve ever known in any capacity ever?

3) This body. How is this body… existing? Where’s the justice? I know these people have all the time and money in the world and can just skip out on being normal people and devote countless hours and dollars to improving their appearance and I shouldn’t get too upset about it when it’s not really a level playing field.

But I can’t help it!

This just makes me angry. It makes me furious. It makes me want to scream and throw things! I hate this. And as much as I hate to say it, I’m really beginning to hate her, too. To hate all of them. Every last one.

I know I know– they’re “nice people,” “friendly,” “so down to earth for Hollywood,” blah blah blah. At this point: I Do. Not. Care. The world isn’t Hollywood. Stop teaching us to strive for and value only those things which are Un-real and not of ultimate importance anyway. Stop dangling unattainable perfection in front of us at every corner , all the while forcing the implication that it is not only possible but also necessary.

Boy I tell ya’– if that town burns down I will mourn the loss of the classic nostalgia pieces, and laugh with joy that the seat of this industry is in chaos. I know I know– I have friends who make their living off of this industry in different ways. But what they do isn’t “Hollywood.” It isn’t this nonsense. They make art, not “Naked Teenage Cheerleader Exhibitionist Lingerie Models Being Attacked by Equally Naked Lesbian Vampires With A Penchant for Busting Hip Hop Moves Before Attacking.” My friends don’t need Hollywood.

But then, with the direction things are going there: Who really does anymore?

The problem I have with being fed such a constant diet of people/images like this one of Alba, this one of Fox to the right (this is her after being instructed to gain 10 lbs…) is that it’s like– Okay. It’s like this:

It’s like eating strawberry flavored candy that has 10 x the strawberry taste of the real thing. You still like natural strawberries (especially if you can dress them up with sugar or chocolate or whipped cream…), but after a while even as good as they are they’re just not sweet enough to quench this desire you’ve cultivated for that intense, ultra-sweet, strawberry flavor. The candy contains traces of the real thing, sure. But it’s all so processed and there’s so much added to it that a real piece of fruit just doesn’t have, that you really can’t compare the two.

But that’s what happens with this glut of these people/images always before us. There’s so much that you can add into these people’s lives that you just can’t have with regular people- the heaps of sugar and the Red No. 3. But when we’re fed such a constant, steady diet of the way they are, the way they behave, look, dress, talk– we think it’s attainable because they’re human and we’re human and we’re told we’re all equal so… But the similarities end there. We *can’t* be like them. Men are told to want them, women are taught to want to be them. But it’s impossible.

I’m afraid I will never be loved for being a real strawberry. For something else I “really” am? Sure. But for being a real strawberry? Seems less likely every time another celebrity bounces back post-partum.

And I feel bad for every last person who can’t enjoy real strawberries any more, because I know they’re still good, no matter how sweet (eye)candy can be.

Enough already. Enough empty shaking of fists. It’s just a front, isn’t it? Isn’t it always.

You know what the problem really is? The problem really is that I want things in my life to start working, and my greatest fear is that everything that isn’t working, that everything that’s falling apart is falling apart because of me. Because of something I’ve done. Or something I’ve neglected to do. Like everything’s crashing and it’s all my fault. My big, fat, lazy, selfish, narcissistic, stupid, guilty fault.


ETA: I’ve gotten a surprising amount of feedback on what was intended to just be a nice, blow-off-loads-of-steam little rant, but most of it in the form of private messages from guys ‘n’ gals of all ages and backgrounds on Facebook so I’m the only one getting to enjoy the incredibly beautiful, hope-inspiring, and utterly refreshing sentiments these little notes contain. But to each of you who’s voiced their opinions on these topics- you guys rock, and it should be little wonder why I call you each a friend. :)

“Feelin’ HOT HOT HOT! That’s all I know so far…”

Let’s start with the awesome news: I PAID OFF A BIG CHUNK OF MY CREDIT CARD TODAY!!

Technically I’m paying off that big chunk tomorrow, but I made the deposit today which will enable me to pay off that big chunk tomorrow. *meh* Tomayto-Tomahto.

Stayed home sick today. Better than yesterday, but still just… :P My mom came by around noon to keep me company. She brought chicken noodle soup, which we shared before playing two games of UpWords. She beat me both times. Who beats their kid? Their sick kid? Twice?!

I went on Craig’s List while she was here to look for ferret cages and found an awesome one for only $20 bucks! Some family’s moving and they had this old cage they hadn’t used in years so they priced it to sell since they just have zero use for it anymore.

It’s 3’w x 2.5’h x 1.5’d, really sturdy, has two latched openings on the front, and three shelf levels.

It’s like a ferret mansion.

I am stoked.

My future ferret(s), wherever (s)he is, is no doubt also stoked.

My mom came with me to pick up the cage and when we got to this family’s house they had a shitsu named Oreo- who looked just like my mom’s dog Patches- and when we walked up the driveway she came right up to me and when I knelt down by her she started nuzzling me and trying to climb up in my lap! So cute! And the cage was great. So woo. $20 well spent.

After we got back to the house mom ‘n’ I had spagetti-o’s (you know how we do) and then she took off back to the adventure that is Home.

I’m watching Disc 2 of Season Two of “The Office.” How does this show not get old for me?

“Once you’ve danced naked at a hash bonfire with the spirits of the dead, all parties seem pretty much the same.” Ahh Creed. And for a great how-to guide to making your own pruno, check out this page at Black Table.

I’m so uncomfortable watching these scenes where Pam and Karen are all friendly with each other. Karen’s nice and funny, but her selling point is that, well, she’s not like Pam.

I am.

I just don’t answer phones. And God help me: I don’t ever want to answer phones again.

It’s not the phone answering that bothers me. Surprised? (Shame on you. You should’ve seen this coming.) It’s the fact that, well it’s just a drag– all these little reminders of how much cooler these things are which just so happen to be my opposites.

I’m happy being Pam. *does cartwheels to prove happiness*And I have lots of friends who are also Pams, and know lots of people who really like Pams, so I’m not sitting here all forlorn and mopey. It just– man, after a while it just… Hm.

The thing is: You don’t have to be slammed to feel bad. Sometimes just hearing everything you’re not be constantly and loudly praised for the things that make them opposite is enough.

Stupid Maxim. And television. And hot, scantily clad Olympians

Poor crying Pam. If I get a boy ferret maybe I’ll name him Dwight.

While I was on Craig’s List earlier I checked out the Missed Connections page. Those silly radio guys. Oh so silly! anyway- the top one for Men Seeking Women in Milwaukee was this one:

Subject: You: pregnant, hot, and needing me – m4w – 30

Body: I like your round belly. Makes me want to slap yo baby. Let daddy have a little slappy lappy. Watch out baby. You do the baby rub a dub dance, I chase you, and slap a lap a. MmmMMmmMMmm.

Oh my Lord. I am never getting pregnant in this town.

Of Walruses and Bloody Ducks

Today’s Vlog:

A project that could’ve been, and a possible upcoming audition.

Should I go for it? Do the audition? I have until mid-September to decide… Help!



I’m at home watching “Enchanted,” drinking a Wild Berry wine cooler, and eating Easy Mac.

i would rather be… um… I can’t think of any place… I know I’d rather be somehow else, if not somewhere else. :S


Yes, she looks tired and ill, but give Madonna a break. That’s what happens when we women hit 50.

(I tested that link a few times and sometimes it just doesn’t work. No idea why. The article is by Liz Jones and is on the Daily Mail website.)

“And do you know what? This rampant ageism really hurts. I was in the hairdresser the other day (the demented, feverish need of all women past the age of 35 to have our roots retouched every 14 days is as oppressive as foot binding) when the young colourist dared to say: ‘The white regrowth is really obvious, I wonder you didn’t wear a hat!’

I would have been quite within my rights to opine: ‘Well, at least I’m not fat and wearing a ridiculous mini skirt and prone to varicose veins because I’m on my feet all day.’

I could have said all this, but I am sure if I had jaws would have dropped noiselessly around me.

When I challenged the young woman, wondering whether, as I was a paying client, she might have been a bit more tactful, she said, affronted and surprised: ‘Would you prefer it if I wasn’t honest?’

Well, yes, I would, actually, you dim cow. And I would be very grateful if designers and stylists and photographers and magazine editors would stop holding up 16-year-old children as some sort of ideal we should all aspire to.

Yes, teenage girls don’t have deep grooves running from nose to mouth, or thinning eyebrows and really stubborn white whiskers, but neither do they have wit, or conversation, or mystery, or opinions, or experience, or memories, or money.”

“French-type” Films

Did Martin Luther King, Jr. really say “It may be true that the law cannot make a man love me, but it can stop him from lynching me, and I think that’s pretty important.”??


Marilyn Monroe Sex Tape Sells for $1.5M

… Heavily redacted, declassified FBI documents from the 1960s talk about a “French-type” film starring the late actress …

Uh… “French-type”? Wha-???

Tom Cruise Concerned About Posh Spice’s Influence on Katie Holmes

… During another recent outing to Madeo, Katie and Posh shared a green salad without dressing, one piece of fish and one side of steamed spinach, Life and Style reported. They also ordered one regular Coke and two glasses of ice.

“Katie poured half the soda into each of their glasses, then filled up the rest with bottled water,” a Madeo regular told the magazine.”

What?! *Gah!* If that’s what it takes to be thin– man I’m just not so sure I want it…

100 Best First Lines from Novels

15. The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new. -Samuel Beckett, Murphy (1938)

46. Ages ago, Alex, Allen and Alva arrived at Antibes, and Alva allowing all, allowing anyone, against Alex’s admonition, against Allen’s angry assertion: another African amusement . . . anyhow, as all argued, an awesome African army assembled and arduously advanced against an African anthill, assiduously annihilating ant after ant, and afterward, Alex astonishingly accuses Albert as also accepting Africa’s antipodal ant annexation.  -Walter Abish, Alphabetical Africa (1974)

47. There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it. -C. S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (1952)

78. The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.  -L. P. Hartley, The Go-Between (1953)


In other news: I’m an idiot.

I’m reading George R. R. Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire series (it’s incredible) and I just finished the second book about an hour ago and was all set to dive right into the third book when I realized, much to my horror, that the book sitting on my shelf isn’t the third book but the fourth!

I bought books two and (apparently) four when I was in Dallas in November so that as soon as I finished book one I could move right into the next one. I’d intended to buy two through four at the time, but decided to save a few bucks and some space in my luggage on my return trip to Wisconsin, so I put book (apparently) three back on the shelf.


For some reason I cannot understand myself, I spent ages and ages finishing up book two. Don’t ask me how or why I did it; glutton for punishment perhaps. In the meantime I’ve been ignoring the book on my shelf because it didn’t matter yet, so I had no idea that all this time I’ve been sitting here with a book I can’t read yet!

Well it damn well matters now that I want to read book three and can’t. Doggonit…

I’m picking it up at B&N tomorrow on my way home from work, as well as putting in an order for the “Wait Until Dark” script. *sigh* How am I ever going to memorize that bloomin’ thing…