Is that a threesome?

So, I’m at Wendy’s today for lunch and ahead of me in line are three old people–two women and a man. Now, I don’t mean old like Sarcastro-old, I mean, really old like late 60s/early 70s. The man was ordering and the women were standing in front of me. The slightly older looking woman, who had these long fingers, reached to the waist of the other woman and kind of stroked at her waist and the nice round curve of her hip. So, imagine that. I’m watching this old woman gently running her hands along the ticklish areas of her companion.

If you did this to me, I would either turn around and start humping you right there in public or laugh and try to wiggle out of your reach. It’s just not a place on me that one can just casually stroke at without eliciting some response.

But just as I had myself about convinced that it was just some way for old women to be physically close and didn’t mean they were lovers, the old man pulled the woman being petted over to him and he rested his hands on her hips in pretty much the same manner as he ordered for her. And that, to me, was clearly a “we are intimate” signal.

Then, he also ordered for the other woman.

So, I was left perplexed. Was it a man and his two lovers? A woman and her two lovers. A man, his lover, and her sister?

Is this becoming a popular arrangement for old people? I mean, I know you men can’t seem to cling to life with the same vigor as us women, and so we might have to consider more complicated sleeping arrangements as we get older in order to stay satisfied, but is this becoming common?

And yes, I might be a little sensitive about this because my mom and dad will be staying out in their trailer with my aunt Julie when they come to visit and yet again my dad talked about how nice it would be if Julie would just marry them.
Update on Wednesday, June 28, 2006 at 12:41PM

Also, I love my parents, but I think my aunt Julie could do better.

Well, Hmm. I Hadn’t Realized That Before

So, yes, this week has been both a grueling endurance test of not-fun and a perfectly fine week just hijacked by my own inability to realize the proper size of problems.

But I did realize something interesting.  When things were at their lowest, I prayed, instinctively, to the Christian god this prayer, “Oh god, why do you hate us?  Why can’t we get some fucking breaks occasionally?  If you just let us get through this…”


I’ve thought long and hard about all the reasons I left Christianity and I felt, and still feel, pretty justified in them, but I had never until this week realized how closely I associate the Christian god with my being extremely miserable, and with no choice but to just pray for the strength to endure my misery.

Y’all, I have been unhappy some in my non-Christian life, but it’s been a long, long time since I felt this specific kind of misery–the “bad things are happening, they are out of your control, just suffer through it” brand.  And I had forgotten how I used to feel that way most of the time.  And I know I haven’t ever realized how I link the Christian god and my misery.

And I say “linked” because, obviously, I don’t consciously think the Christian god is responsible for making me miserable; it’s not causal.  But it clearly seems to go both ways.  When I am miserable, I expect the Christian god to be close by and, when the Christian god is close by, I expect to be miserable.

I think that’s important.  I’m not sure how, but when I realized it, it kind of brought me up short.

I’ve got to mull this over a little bit, obviously.  I’m not sure what it means.

Maimed Again!

Y’all, another animal in this house has maimed me.  I’m starting to take it personally.

We–Mrs. Wigglebottom and I–were walking along and she picked up this big stick, ran at me, and flipped her head so that the stick hit me right in the knee and scraped it all up.

Is that not the lame-o-ist injury to ever be incurred from a pet?

And who does the dog think she is?  Some kind of mafia enforcer?

Let the Refuting Continue!

Oh, Kleinheider, how I’d love to get you drunk and tattoo the following on your arm so that you can refer to it whenever you doubt my brilliance:

When two people’s rights come into conflict and you are working to pass laws that would require one person’s rights to always be abridged in order to protect the rights of the other, you are creating a situation in which the person whose rights can never be abridged, even if it infringes on the rights on another person, has special rights, because, as you are well aware, everyone else in this nation has rights only as far as they do not infringe on the rights of others.

Using the law to grant special rights to fetal people at the expense of the rights of women does indeed constitute using the law as a “tool designed control the lives of women.”

Quoting Shaun Groves as you do is also slightly disingenuous because Shaun Groves is a minister.  Damn straight it’s his job to search his heart and consult with his god and then minister to his flock as to what the right course of action for them to take is.  That’s his job.  He’s in a position of authority over the pregnant women who come to him because he’s their fucking pastor.  He’s supposed to guide them to do what he believes his god is calling them to do–to make sacrifices to preserve the life of the fetus.

So what?  All this proves is that Shaun Groves doesn’t believe his god when his god says that killing a woman is murder and killing a fetus is a property matter (Exodus 21:22-23).

What Shaun Groves thinks his god wants has nothing to do with what the actual law of the land should be.  The law of the land should be that a woman has control over her own body at all times and can do with it what she sees fit.  The Church is more than welcome to argue that abortion is wrong and that women should, if they get pregnant, carry their babies to term.  In fact, that seems like the exact right position for the Church to take.

But, we are not a theocracy and it is not the job of our laws or legislatures to enforce the will of the Church on people who don’t necessarily go to church.

And also, until you’re willing to tell me to my face that you believe that women who have abortions should go to jail for life, if not face the death penalty, don’t even bullshit me about how you believe abortion is murder.