My mother once gave me a Julio Iglesias cassette for my birthday. I honestly believe she forgot and grabbed the nearest item. She has a drawer full of these little gifties for just such occassions. Big 99 Cent store shopper, my mom. Anyway, to this day I am stunned. Oh, my mom does not have an ironic bone in her body, young hipsters.

I got breath drops -- yes breath drops -- from the imminent Ex as a stocking stuffer our first year of marriage. He swore he thought the pakage said "bath" drops and thought it would be something nice for soaking in a tub.

For our wedding we got a really godawful hideous Hallmark collectibles ornament (plastic!) that said something about "our wedding 1992" and played some shmalzy-ass music and lit up. I think maybe the tune was "the way we were" or something, I dunno.

This, from the guy I thought I was going to marry:

1. Cooking for Dummies (a "joke" gift)
2. Men Are From Mars, Women are From Venus, Children Are From Heaven

(I have no idea what he meant by this last, other than the fact that I was working at a day care center to put myself through college and so maybe he thought it was a "manual" or something, in any case the least sentimental yet loaded present ever, not to mention the WORST)

This, from another guy:

1. Pieces of Intelligence: The Existential Poetry of Donald Rumsfeld

(I, unlike most of you, like poetry, but this guy hated it, so it was supposed to be some compromise of something "I'd like but he could hate." The thing is, I am a Democrat too, so WTF.).

I threw away all the books.

A Tears for Fears CD.

I never get any presents.

You're only three feet tall. What do you expect?

Straining to keep this on topic, Canada may suck, but they've given a fabulous gift to the world: a tattooed Sasquatch mascot for the 2010 games.

(The other two mascots look weird, but whatever.)

You're only three feet tall. What do you expect?

A stepladder would be nice.

Or we have something in a nice pair of stilts?

LB, I sent you, ogged and Becks an e-mail asking that something be redacted.

a tattooed Sasquatch mascot...
(The other two mascots look weird, but whatever.)
So, Tattooed Sasquatchi are not weird?

I got a rock.

12: Well, it's at least recognizable *as* a Sasquatch.

This is supposed to be about gifts from SO's, but I'll casually ignore that stipluation and relate two wedding gifts that have rankled for the last decade: 1) A set of what we called "alien spoons," though they would more aptly have been described as x-files alien spoons, given that the handles were, um, creatures, that resembled the scary alien from the tv show of that era. This set came from my wealthiest relative, and though they were fashioned of silver, they were too scary to contemplate using -- would have frightened away the company and set children to crying. And he, the rich uncle that is, should have done better. 2) From my wife's wealthiest relative came a hand-cut (sewn?) doily, with the date of our marriage, and other relevant information, included therein. Again, from one so rich should come a nicer gift (read: big check), I think.

Which raises a question: do the wealthy not realize that they have a responsibility to uplift the poor, relatives especially, particularly at moments of gift giving?

Oh, we had a good wedding present: a friend of a parent (who we did not invite to the wedding and from whom we most certainly did not expect a present) sent a tastefully framed color Xerox of a crude drawing she had done, in pastels, of the Eiffel Tower.

15: They don't want to buy your love, anmik, they want to be loved for themselves! (And for the hard, hard work they put into embroidering your doily.)

I once asked my first husband for a sexy nightgown for Xmas. He bought me long-sleeved, high-necked lavender flannel. I should have realised that anyone whose mother had arranged his first sexual tryst [a call girl] had Mother Issues. The marriage was briefly annoying and even briefer in duration.

Best wedding present, tho': A hookah and an ounce of Hanoi Gold. Which was probably from Marin, but who cares. Ah, for the goode olde days, when knighthood was in bloom and weede cost $10 an ounce...

Oh, man, my psycho grandma sent us a set of stainless flatware in a smashed wooden box as a wedding present. That was about par for the course for her, of course.

hand-cut (sewn?) doily, with the date of our marriage, and other relevant information, included therein

Handmade lace, do you mean? Actually that's a damn nice gift.

Handmade lace, do you mean? Actually that's a damn nice gift.

One's woman's godawful is another woman's damn nice. Which means just about any item can be regifted. Or perhaps sold on eBay.

Not if it's personalized with a wedding date and people's names, it can't. But perhaps your children or grandchildren will appreciate it.

Beautiful and unique ***COLOR XEROX*** Includes Frame EIFFELL TOWER a visit to GAY PAREE!

I've gotten several gifts from boyfriends that my friends made fun of. Lots of socks, a couple containers of good salt, some frumpy hiking boots, an embroidered dishtowel, a glass teapot, a food mill--all practical stuff that I loved. Every time a holiday came around when I was dating someone, one of my girlfriends would tease me about whether I was getting a blender or something equally romantic.

The few times I've gotten impractical, romantic-type gifts, I've ended up hating them. I still use that dishtowel every day and it isn't a sad symbol of anything, whereas the little diamond necklace my college bf gave to me just sits there in my medicine-cabinet, mocking me. Hey, anyone want to buy a nice little diamond necklace?

Canada may suck, but

... jealousy doesn't suit you, B.

I got a Lives of the Saints>/i> once. I remember the gilt and full-color plates, but was too young to know if it was a quality publication or Catholic kitsch.

Every Christmas my parents would give something to uncover or stimulate an interest. So chemistry set, chess board & books, slanted draftsmen's board with one of those elbowy things, etc. It was a little weird & weighty to look at the 20 piece dissection kit with scalpels and board, having never shown any interest in cutting up frogs or neighbour's cats.

What I wanted and never got was the Britannica Great Books to go with the Encyclopedias we already had.

OT: I now attempt Celtics game livecommenting. Any requests?

Pieces of Intelligence: The Existential Poetry of Donald Rumsfeld

Paged through this book in a bookstore, and found it very funny.

16 is so fantastic.

If we ever decide that we're tired of the tree branch image at the top of the front page, this would make a decent replacement.

getting a blender or something equally romantic.

See, I don't think it's so much that a gift is intrinsically awful, as it is terribly inappropriate for the recipient. Which, given that the giver is in this case your nearest and dearest, can be really painful. This is what you think I would like?

As far as AWB's bit above, I once got talked out of giving a practical gift. Later I told the recipient what it would have been and got a very positive response. I should have trusted my instincts and realized that my friends and family a) were projecting their own feelings about how they would feel about receiving such a gift, and b) did not actually know him well enough to judge.

31: right. A blender could be a great or terrible present, depending on the person.

24: I'm not a big diamond fan as a rule, but if it comes with a good story...

I always envy women who get jewelry from boyfriends. Never been my luck. One of my favorite rings is one my mom had gotten from a boyfriend -- the boyfriend, in fact, that she left to marry my dad. Whenever I wore it, I always imagined him thinking wistfully of the one that got away. I may have been right, as he looked her up a few years ago. Alas, poor guy, she's still married.

27:Celtics, Schmeltics. Isn't everybody watching Cowboys-Packers? Oops, I guess some people not in Dallas have trouble getting the game on TV.

My sister and I agreed that one of the marks of being a grownup is that gifts like a set of steak knives are much more desireable than toys.

This comment is not meant to reflect on the maturity of anyone present.

33: Mr. B. never gets me jewelry, which is actually fine because it's one of those things I'd rather pick out myself.

Of course, because spending a ton of money on jewelry strikes me as stupid, most of what I have is inexpensive stuff, and I don't wear it much anyway.

I was ten. I hated New Kids on the Block. My grandmother and aunt assumed I was a typical ten-year-old, and I received a NKotB watch, button, book, and poster.

34: but I can give live reports! They're doing some stupid ad break BS on the jumbotron!

37: Oh god, I had a friend in college whose mother did shit like this all the time.

Of course, because spending a ton of money on jewelry strikes me as stupid

Well, yeah, it probably depends what you mean by "ton." I bought myself a $130 ring when I was deciding to get divorced, and I thought that was rather extravagent. "Two months salary" would make me cry. I'm growing to really like jewelry more for that meaningful symbol sort of purpose.

for my 35th birthday my mother in law got me a recent bestselling biography of merriwether lewis (half of lewis and clark). lewis accomplished quite a lot while in his twenties and then became a drunken bum. he committed suicide a few days after his 35th birthday.

I forgot how many breaks there are in a basketball game. Do I care about another invalid youngster? No I do not.

Today's my mom's birthday, so I got her some chocolates and left them on the dining room table with a custom-made card. I'm sure she'll like the chocolates, but I hope the card doesn't make her sad; my dad used to make them for her.

a recent bestselling biography of merriwether lewis

Is it the Ambrose one? I started reading that a while ago but gave up a couple chapters in. I forget why.

I forgot how many breaks there are in a basketball game.

It's even more striking if you attend a televised game.

43: I imagine it will make her sad, but in a good way.

43: That sounds like a very sweet gift, Teo. The card especially.

Thanks. It was kind of sad to make it; when I went into the template, the back of the card said "made especially for you by" my dad. I changed it to my name.

Oh, bittersweet.

40: I think we're on the same page, money-wise.

I'll admit I teared up a little, Teo. That's really lovely.

Oh Teo, what a lovely thought. You're a good son.

The first Christmas we were together, and barely knew each other, although we were getting married in a fortnight, C gave me a Gameboy, for which I had no use. Considering I had got him some bizarre 'sculptural' clock though, I think he chose better.

About 3 or 4 years ago he bought me a ring - he was all excited about it and got me to open it before Christmas, which was fortunate as I hated it. (It had a blue stone! I don't wear blue!) He sent it back and kept the money.

My mum does stuff like buy me pyjamas and then tell me she got my grandmother the same pair.

45: right; what I meant. Oh, look! Another outfit change for the Celtics dancers! Lead dancer is like 6'8" but a truly attractive shemale.

She'll like it, Teo. The card probably more than the chocolates.

44: yeah it was ambrose. try reading it again when you turn 35.

btw treo commenting seems to preclude capital letters except for I.

Sifu's commentary is cracking me up.

Way more Vegas fake tit-lookin' girls here than at Fenway. Also real cocktails available, albeit overpriced.

Halftime means plate-balancing asian lady on a unicycle! Seriously there's been about 4 minutes of basketball and the celts are up by 23. fuckin' Knicks.

20, 22: Hmm, you made me feel a bit guilty. But my guilt prompted me to pull the thing out of the closet, and it's paper. So a papercut, right? Is that still a nice gift? I think probably not. And what about the alien spoons? Nothing says love like allusions to anal-probing extraterrestrials.

17: Just for the record, my affection is very much for sale. And we'll be renewing our vows at a lavish ceremony this weekend. Everyone's invited. Break out the alien spoons.

Acrobat lady on a unicycle is actually pretty damn impressive. The crowd is won over.

Worst gift(s) from an SO?

Coffee mug. More than once, same SO. Finally I gave him one back.

Oh: and some sort of playing cards for some fantasy game, or something. Trading cards, I think. Collectible, I gathered. Glossy.

Oh, and an orange (silk) scarf. I look hideous in orange. Nice try, though!

yeah it was ambrose. try reading it again when you turn 35.

I may try it sooner.

That's the book I was reading when my dad was hospitalized for depression. My mom was looking around for a book to bring him to read in the hospital, and she thought that one might be good because he liked history. She was all set to take it over to him when she paused, softened her voice a little, and asked me, "How did Meriwether Lewis die?"

"He killed himself," I answered, and went on to babble about how this book was really interesting, actually, because it talked about how his dad had been depressive too etc. etc. (largely because that was as far as I'd gotten at that point).

She didn't take the book to him.

44: Also, Ambrose should be avoided. Reader age is not an important variable in the equation.

59: I'm sorry, I didn't mean to guilt trip you. I'm kind of a sucker for handmade gifts, and I dunno, a nice personalized delicate papercut thing, I'd still probably frame it and put it on the wall. Of course some handmade gifts are hideous, but there's something about the gesture that I think is really sweet. (e.g., Teo's card, which is very thoughtful of him.)

63 written without seeing 62. I meant to say: present company excepted.

best between-act entertainment ever: steve direnzo, world record holder for longest free-fall onto an airbag while on fire. much discussion about how one gets into that line of work ensued.

63 written without seeing 62. I meant to say: present company excepted.

Don't worry, I don't have any particular affection for Ambrose. In fact, if anyone knows of any other biographies of Lewis I'd be interested in hearing recommendations.

64: I, too, like personal gifts very much. My rockstar(ish) friend wrote us a song that he performed at the ceremony and later recorded on one of his CDs. It still brings tears to my eyes every time I listen. Another friend, a poet, wrote a very beatiful bit of verse. And a third, a photographer, framed some of his work, which hangs in a place of honor in the homestead. But the papercut thingie felt, I don't know, forced, like the rich uncle and aunt were saying, we don't want to buy your love so have given you this. Again, love for sale here. Cheap. Seriously, the difference is that personal gift should come from someone with whom the recipient has a personal relationship. All others should send cash.

My boyfriend when I turned 25 got me five days of five things. (Graphic designer who thought of himself as a performance artist: he was really into concept gifts.) Five roses, five designs for business cards, two other sets of five things that I don't remember any more but were perfectly fine.

Then it was the fifth day, the day of my birthday, and I was expecting something really great. I had been speculating with all my friends what thing I might get five of. And then we were going out to dinner, and on the street he says, so do you want your last present now? And he gives me five grapes, and says I am supposed to eat them all at the same time. ?????????

What I wanted and never got was the Britannica Great Books to go with the Encyclopedias we already had.

I have one of those that I got as a freebie years ago. My dad kind of likes it so it lives in my parents' basement.

69: Grapes. Five at a time. That is conceptual. Were they good?

I was just on the jumbotron for the third time -- that's your present.

I was just on the jumbotron for the third time -- that's your present.

Your presence is present enough, Sifu. And I really mean that.

No, they were just regular grapes. I was puzzled.

Every time I read the title of this thread, I think, "A gift card for fashion!"

I double-posted, that's your next present.

My mom just called. She liked the gift and the card.

OK, the resolution of 69 is baffling in many ways, but I am also left with a question:

Blume is a woman/gay man?

Was this really obvious?

Now that I think on it, I may have even had evidence before, but, for some reason, read Blume as a male. Strange. Says more about me, no doubt....

Nice work, teo.

teo that is very sweet.

Celts up by 36 so I might have more time to comment now.

If someone's saying something intelligent we naturally assume that they're male absent evidence to the contrary. Which is actually kind of a strange custom, but there you have it.

I've always read Blume as a woman. And by always I mean for the last eight weeks. But I'm not sure if that's because of context clues, a clear piece of evidence, or assumptions.

Blume is not male, I am fairly certain.

I don't remember any bad presents. When I got married, I am sure that we got things that I didnt care about, but I cannot remember anything that upset me.

I will recount a story about my son. Two years ago, my dad bought my son a 90 cc motorcycle. Three years ago, he had got my son a really cool present. So, last year, we are opening presents and my son is very excited (10 1/2 yrs old). He gets a sweater. He presses a smile on his face and says "thank you granddad!!" He never expressed any disappointment. A sweater?? For a 10 yr old boy???!?!?!?!

But yeah, JR, you're pretty out of it.

Celtics doubling the Knicks score. They might pull this one out!

85: You must have been really proud of him. Your son, I mean. Seriously, that's a tough thing for a kid, any kid, to pull off: the I-hate-this-but-know-not-to-be-mean-about-it smile and thank you. Grandpa, on the other hand, is banned.

Ray Allen for 3. 80 - 37. Ouch.

Celtics dancers wearing hot pants and hoodies: 'th?

89: I've not said anything before now, but I'm very, very jealous. I grew up a rabid Celtics fan, son of a rabid Celtics fan, and am thrilled with the current turn of events. I've also always loved watching Ray Allen shoot. So pure it's art: elevate, stroke, parabola, splash.

88: True fact. I was apparently visibly disappointed by a popcorn popper from an aunt at about the same age, and caught hell for it.

So 83 + 86 makes me sexist and an idiot.

Goddammit.

Don't ask me why I would associate the German word for "flower" with "male."

Anyway, sorry, Blume. Although I was apparently rampantly clueless about some portion of it, I've been enjoying your comments.

Aw, your son rocks, Will. And I disagree with Anmik--grandpa doesn't have to spoil the kid rotten *every* year.

My grandma got in the habit of getting me decorative plates to hang on the wall when I was a kid in the 6-10 range. Before each one, my mom would help steel me for the disappointment, saying she had reminded Grandma that I like active toys, but that Grandma doesn't always get the message.

I might well have been TOTALLY THRILLED by a popcorn popper at that age, if it was the cheesy reproduction movie-theater kind of thing. I had a real taste for Hammacher Schlemmer kinds of items, which I never actually received.

anmik:

I have an amazing son. A truly amazing fabulous son whom I do not deserve.

I also have an amazingly kissy and huggy daughter.

91: I grew up watching 'em, but it's been so depressing the past decade. Tonight is a massacre: awesome. Glad my friend kept his season tickets.

94: You're overly tolerant of crap-ass gifts. But you're also right: gramps gets to give what he wants. It's up to parents to teach their kids to appreciate gifts, regardless of how much they suck. But alien spoons? That shit is beyond the pale.

No apologies called for! Group hug!

100: oh hell yeah.

All the grandkids realize that gramps is like the lottery, only with much better odds.

Heck, we went to lunch the other day and he ended up buying me two pairs of lucky jeans. Merry Christmas to me.

My wife got me a mandolin for the last happy birthday we spent together. A mandolin is an objectively good gift for someone who, like me, plays the guitar and likes to collect small instruments. It is not, however, a good gift for someone who already has a mandolin.

I felt a little bad that she'd never noticed me playing the mandolin (I had recorded myself on it, but hadn't been into it for two years or so). I felt much worse knowing how much of a jackass she would feel once I told her, because it was both a thoughtful (perfect for me) and a thoughtless (you never noticed I had a mandolin?) gift.

93: No, no, no. Sexist idiot is an important role around here. We all have to do our part.

Terrible gifts from significant others:
- A giant, tacky synthetic ruby cocktail ring from a mall jewelry store. I was fifteen. When we broke up, he took it back and threw it in a duck pond. Then he continued to make payments on it for months.
- A book called "In Defense of Elitism"
- Two months before cheating on me, for my birthday, my last ex gave me a butcher knife. He probably thought the symbolism would be lost on me.

Somewhere at my mother's house is a lawn-sized trash bag full of stuffed animals guys have given me. Those are not as lame as the garbage can full of socks I got for Christmas when I was seven, but at least I wore the socks.

My wife got me a mandolin for the last happy birthday we spent together.

I assume you mean "happy birthday" as the name of that day, but when I read this, it sounded awfully tragic. The very last happy birthday. Before that Thing That Happened.

On second thought, maybe that is what you mean. Sorry. I've forgotten whether you're still married.

97: Realizing how great he is means that you very likely do deserve him. But a kissy and huggy daughter? That's too lucky. Tell me your birthday; I'll send along the alien spoons to balance the ledger.

We've got two boys, five and eight months. The five-year-old is a real sweetheart. As you say, better than we deserve. He also used to be incredibly affectionate. But school seems to have beaten some of that love out of him. The little one is still too little to have let us know what he'll be like. He did cut his first tooth today. And he's just starting to produce his first words. So far only mama, dada, and an approximation of his brother's name. Okay, I think I'm done now.

106: That was how I meant it. I mostly no longer have a wife.

109: I apologize. My misreading was callous.

I thought you guys had divorced and gotten remarried to each other?

A giant, tacky synthetic ruby cocktail ring from a mall jewelry store. I was fifteen. When we broke up, he took it back and threw it in a duck pond. Then he continued to make payments on it for months.

Ah, young love.

Why are you trying to depress us, Wrongshore?

107: Final paperwork on the divizzle goes down December 15th. My wife asked for a short extension so she can continue to have dental insurance til she's finished getting some work done. This made my girlfriend sad. It made for an interesting week.

110: No apology necessary. My writing was artfully ambiguous, because I am full of art. Or eels, or something else.

Heebie, if you want any more of those plates, I inherited about 20 of them.

99: The spoons I'll grant you. Expensive and ugly is not good.

I just opened a box of clothes for PK and said, "look, PK, I bought you some clothes but I am not keeping them to give you as a Christmas present."

"Thank you," he said.

"But aren't these cute pants?" I asked, pushing it.

"Yeah, they're great. Mama, I'm trying to watch cartoons."

Hmph.

Why are you trying to depress us, Wrongshore?

Yeah, that's my job.

111: You may be thinking of me. He's Wrongshore, I'm usually wrong, confusion is inevitable.

113: I am trying to keep your mind off revolution with tales of personal woe. Woe!

111: Really? Or are you funning?

Heebie, if you want any more of those plates, I inherited about 20 of them.

Yes, but what is the theme? Mine all have the matching theme of Teddy Bears. I'm not kidding, either.

118: Really? How cool. Archive link, please. I missed that.

I got a souvenier M*A*S*H plate from my grandma once, but I liked it. I felt guilty when, years later, it went in the pile of "stuff I am not going to keep."

114: Hey, barring surprises, I'm all done that week, too!

Maybe I was thinking of NPH. You guys took a year off? I think it came up in a thread about anniversaries and you said you celebrated the anniversary of the remarriage but not the original marriage?

120: Okay, that's kind of awesome, actually. Please tell me you've got them all hanging in rows on a wall somewhere.

Wrongshore, it's good of you to postpone the divorce date so your soon-to-be-ex can get the dental work done, by the way.

122: It is a bittersweet freedom to realize that there are people who are going to periodically de-clutter, that there are people who are going to have awesome closets full of hidden treasures, that you have cast your lot with the former, and that ne'er the twain shall meet.

I think it came up in a thread about anniversaries and you said you celebrated the anniversary of the remarriage but not the original marriage?

That was definitely NPH.

If you people had subscribed to my newsletter, you would know that Wrongshore and Di were about to become available.

126: Actually that particular sorting was occasioned by my mother selling the house while I was still living in student apartments, and her basically getting rid of almost everything.

125: They are all hanging up in the bathroom near my bedroom in my parents house, just sitting there oozing QVC channel.

116: We've learned not to push for more gratitude than the boy wants to offer. But there are days, if I've given him something I think is really cool, that I still seek more. Those are, without exception, the days that he dismisses me.

If I've been paying attention, Wrongshore has long since been solidly snapped up.

I now attempt Celtics game livecommenting. Any requests?

Could you post a picture of Marbury sulking on the bench? Loved House raining down threes to push the lead to 50.

125: Thanks for noting that. It's the sort of thing I don't feel like patting my back for, for obvious reasons.

The weird thing is that my gf's dad is a dentist, and would be happy to do this favor. But it's a weird favor.

I asked my ex today what kind of work she was getting done, to see if Dr. Gf's Dad can do it, and without telling her. She's already started the work, so I didn't raise the issue.

But it would actually feel pretty good to me to be able to help her out with that -- like by both moving the divorce date back up and helping her out, I was transitioning her properly into my extended family.

It might feel to her that I was putting her in an awkward situation in order to get rid of her, which wouldn't be the intention.

anmik:

First tooth and first words? That is fabulous. Such fun times. Congrats.

124: I think I said that's what my wife does, except that what really happens is that with two to remember we tend to end up forgetting both. But the counting is pretty easy because the divorce decree was final on the fifth anniversary of the first marriage, so if you're going for total years you can measure from the second date and add five.

130: Just wait, when it comes time to throw them out, you'll cry a little.

131: Gratitude?! I just want him to *look* at the pants and tell me if he's going to refuse to wear the damn things.

134: Wow, that sounds so civil.

Wrongshore is a good guy. I believe in karma. Of course, doing the right thing is the right thing. Except when no good deed goes unpunished.

I kept my ex on the health insurance long past the time when I had too. She was actually kind of bitchy about it. But, we get along fairly well now.

Today is her 40th birthday. I called her and sang The Old Grey Mare to her.

134: Yeah, I think just letting her get it done on her own and signing the paperwork a little later is probably the more tactful approach.

In any case, I've seen a lot of people be petty buttheads over divorce, so I'm impressed when people manage to be classy about it.

Today is her 40th birthday. I called her and sang The Old Grey Mare to her.

I swear to god if anyone does that to me on my 40th I will take out a contract on them.

Sifu, this is worse for a Knicks fan than seeing Van Gundy being dragged by Mourning's leg.

105:

I HATE stuffed animals too. They make terrible, useless presents, worse than knick knacks (and I on occasion like candleholders and whatnot). What on earth do people do with them? I neither want to look at them or hold them, but I am no longer a child.

I am befuddled by adults with such affinity for sacks of stuffing, even though my roomate LOVES them (especially in the shape of Hello Kitty) and so does one of my friends, who once gave me a stuffed animal manatee. My niece plays with that one.

Also: In Defense of Elitism?!

BitchPhd:

I'm going to record it and email it to you.

Her response was to remind me that she looked better and younger than I do. You can do the same when I sing it to you.

I don't like cutesy romantic stuffed animal type gifts. But last year at Disneyland there was the *softest* Eeyore, and I so wanted it...

138: I am handsome and clothed, so it is easier for everyone.

144: You think I'm joking about the contract thing? Try me.

133: I don't like basketball, but I'm really looking forward to playing Minnesota, just so we can have Marbury cover this guy.

Also: In Defense of Elitism?!

It sounds like a worthy companion to William F. Buckley's God and Man at Yale.

147:

I read your comment. I as going to do it now, not when you turned 40.

146: Sure, but how are the therapists in your area ever going to get their kids through college? Who's thinking about them?

Ageed, Wrongshore and Will are good, decent men, and Teo is a very sweet and thoughtful guy.

Conclusion: A good thread for (non?)representative Unfogged men, interestingly on the heels of "Stay Away!"

152:

I'm just trying to build up a little credit to offset all the butt grabbing I plan on doing at DC Unfogged.

Thank you, Will. The tooth is fine, though less spectacular with kid two than one. The words, though, really are wonderful. Every time the baby mangles his brother's name -- he's not even close -- he gets this goofy, smitten look on his face. He so loves his big brother. Oops, I said above I was done. Sorry.

150: Thankfully you don't have my mailing address.

155:

Gone daddy gone. The love is gone Beautiful girl, love the dress.

154: Don't apologize -- such sweet stuff!

157:

Agreed. Anmik. No need to apologize. I rarely to talk about my kids. But Di and Bitch are constantly talking about their kids, so you should too.

157: Thanks. That's very nice of you. Would you like an alien spoon as an emblem of my gratitude?

I think Amnik should apologize because she's making me feel guilty/wistful about not being knocked up with a younger sibling for PK yet.

Whew! Not being nice to Amnik = no offers of alien spoons!

I hear you. My two best friends are knocked up right now. And they both deserve it and will be wonderful parents blah, blah, blah...

158: Ditto, though I may be out of alien spoons if Di claims them. Perhaps you'd like a doily/papercut thing instead?

The alien spoons actually sound kind of cool.

160: I think you've just gendered (dare I say "sexed"?) me female. Which is probably the nicest thing anyone has said about me all day. Or week for that matter. Alien spoons all around. And a rousing chorus of Hava Nagila.

I can give you some plates if Heebie doesn't want them. They're mostly Bible, Christmas, and Grimm's Fairy Tale themes. You'll love them!

Nooooo! No alien spoons for me! Give them to DiKotimy!

I was probably sexistly associating wedding gifts/domestic wedding gifts (serving spoons, sentimental paper tchotchkes)/woman. I should ban myself, but I won't.

164: They are not. At all. Scary and ugly and ostentatious.

We should totally have an Unfogged white elephant gift swap. I just might actually be suckered by love John's Grimm's Fairy Tale plates, actually.

168: Dude, you had a taker.

Blume's 5 grapes story is awesome, especially the requirement to eat them all at once.

THAT REMINDS ME of an experience I had involving Grant Achatz prior to the existence of Alinea which I won't recount.

I don't suppose the significance was ever explained? Were they meant to symbolize Dionysius or something? Or perhaps just to be baffling? There must have been a concept.

He's heard about my ex and know I can be suckered in by scary, ugly, and ostentatious.

167: And here I thought my comments demonstrated a nurturing quality or some other essentially female trait. Oh well.

166: Give the Bible ones to stras.

Blume's 5 grapes story is awesome, especially the requirement to eat them all at once.

I think this belongs in the "Stay Away!" thread, under "why not to date Ben."

Vegas airport is a dump. This has been a public service announcement.

(Though I can actually imagine being charmed by the 5 grapes thing, to be honest.)

176: You obviously need to travel more to places like, oh, say, Buffalo.

And here I thought my comments demonstrated a nurturing quality or some other essentially female trait. Oh well.

If it makes you feel better, I also thought you were female at first, though I had figured out that you weren't well before this thread.

176: You obviously need to travel more to places like, oh, say, Buffalo.

This is the wrong inference.

I think this belongs in the "Stay Away!" thread, under "why not to date Ben."

Now now. I didn't say that I would do such a thing myself. For one thing, I haven't the cleverness.

I'm just saying, I've been to some crappy airports, and Vegas is damn nice.

I suggest a trip to Toronto via Buffalo. Stop in Nashville on the way and visit their smoking lounge, kay?

"I had figured out that you weren't well before this thread."

It's true that I'm not well. And I would have guessed my problems would have been apparent to any keen observer of the human condition. The gender-bending, though, seems a bit more mysterious. But perhaps not any more interesting.

171: There's a town somewhere - in Spain, maybe? - where, at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve, everyone is supposed to eat a grape with every chime of the town clock. They supposedly slowed down the chiming, because too many people were choking on their mouthfulls of grapes.

But my birthday is almost as far from NYE as possible, and we were in Berlin and not Spain, and it wasn't even midnight.

Albuquerque has a very nice airport.

I'm just saying, I've been to some crappy airports, and Vegas is damn nice.

I'm just saying, I'm sitting in this airport right now, and it is a dump.

There must have been a concept.

Theme of that boyfriend's life. It was fun at first, but after awhile I was like, can't we just have some people over without a theme? Without requiring them play a game or bring something weird or share some calculatedly particular detail about their lives?

Hm. Concept needs work.

There's a town somewhere - in Spain, maybe? - where, at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve, everyone is supposed to eat a grape with every chime of the town clock. They supposedly slowed down the chiming, because too many people were choking on their mouthfulls of grapes.

I think this is customary throughout Spain; it certainly is in Madrid, where I spent New Year's Eve 2000(/New Year's Day 2001). We stood around in the Plaza Mayor with probably thousands of other people, and when the chimes started to ring we did indeed eat the grapes. Afterward people starting opening bottles of champagne.

It was a lot of fun.

Afterward people starting opening bottles of champagne.

If that had followed the grape-eating on the street, I might not be telling this story today.

We were quite impressed by the amount of public drunkenness.

184 and 185, read aloud, back to back, with no regard for what came earlier, provide a wonderful non-sequitur/piece of spoken word poetry.

New Year's in countries without open container laws: objectively better.

186: Okay, okay. Maybe I'm misremembering it. But I thought there were actual restaurants and shops to wander through while you wait for your plane, and like, crazy garish carpet, instead of long unremitting beige hallways.

187: Okay, that sounds really dire.

193: Teo and I'll be performing it at the uDCII poetry slam.

191: because of the choking, that is?

188 preceded 187.

Blume's then-boyfriend should have been dating now-Megan.

"Always having a crappy concept" could be a pretty special concept, extrapolated.

Not really: persons who always have a crappy concept are pretty easy to come by.

I vaguely assumed anmik was female because the name sounds vaguely feminine (and Dutch) to me. That's about as much thought as went into it.

As far as charming cities, I was amused to be offered a hotel room with "no view" in Albany, NY. What would be a room with a view? I asked. Well, naive me. Apparently "no view" is hotel-speak for no window. (The alternative, for $40/night more, was something called city view.)

I liked the people in Albany quite a lot, but I can't say the views have a lot to recommend them.

201
"Not really: persons who always have a crappy concept are pretty easy to come by.":

Crap, now I am back to being very nervous and insecure to the point of paralysis about the concept mix CD I finally agreed to make you. And I can't ask you to turn off your automatic nitpicking and pedantry, can I?

Judge me, judge me, say that you judge me.

A Catholic mass said in my & my Jewish husband's honor. This was the same year I specifically had the church where I was baptized strike me from the membership rolls, I believe--which the gift givers didn't know, but they knew I intended to convert to Judaism.

Based on all the circumstances, I honestly think it was well-meant, & not an attempt at guilt tripping or proselytization. I eventually convinced my husband of this. But wow, way to know your audience.

He also got a lot of bad astronomy-related gifts for a while since he's a tough person to shop for & majored in that in college. My favorite of which, by far, is a book called "The Very Real Threat of Comet & Asteroid Bombardment".

I do homemade stuff a lot--both serious & joke-y. I also now have a tradition of doing the most deliberately incompetent/creative wrapping job imaginable at Christmas since I can't do it neatly, but I'm sort of running out of ideas.

I never judge anyone, about anything. This is a byproduct of my thoroughgoing self-acceptance.

Having concepts/themes for various things is fun and can be very witty. It's getting to the point where you think they're required that is problematic.

Madrid is this monstrous party town. I once stayed near Puerta del Sol, where I learned the hard way -- from the sounds of people stumbling out into the streets at closing time -- that some bars close at 2, some at 4, and some at 6. We went to a dance club with some locals, and they clearly regarded us in contempt because we gave out at 6.

Maybe such people eventually stumble into the concept of doing something without a concept.

Madrid was awesome. I only regret that when I went there I was 16 and with my parents, so I wasn't able to take full advantage of the opportunities.

test

When I said you could try out commenting on your phone, ogged, I meant you could try out making a substantive comment. Sheesh.

Bitch set me up.

Doesn't she always.

211 is hilarious. Though I'm not sure if it's serious or not.

LB, I sent you, ogged and Becks an e-mail asking that something be redacted.

I am feeling very left out over here, by the way.

Of course I have no idea if what you wanted redacted was redacted. But I infer from the fact that you had to remind LB about the email that it wasn't done immediately. The situation is a bit like the one described here: had you emailed me, it would have been done in a timely manner.

This thread's been open for hours, and I'm just starting to recall that, the birthday before she dumped me (which was maybe 3 weeks before), my first GF (whom I still thought I'd marry, even 1/2-way through college, and I still don't think that would've been awful) got me... something. The GF equivalent of socks. A dull book? Wish I could remember - I was offended by it for years.

I've found recently that, now that I've been married 6+ years, my pre-marriage memories are fading rapidly. Partly it's that my old, bad GF was a total social vacuum - I hung out with her friends and relatives, plus a tiny cross-section of my own, so I no longer have much connection to most of my 20s. But mostly it's that that whole life is receding so rapidly. I remember the most minor things from 7 years ago (when wife & I were courting), but once-major things from 8 or 9 years ago have vaporized. It's weird.

A book called "In Defense of Elitism"

That is beyond weird. I'm afraid to think of what the subtext is there.

On the topic of books. I once received from my ex for by birthday Self Matters by Dr Phil. She said I should read it because she thought it would help me "soooo much". Every day she would ask how many pages I had read and asked me questions just to make sure I wasn't lying. Like I was given homework or something.

The irony is she ended leaving me for a 35 year old budding film-maker who lived in his sister's basement (she was 20). Yeah I know - I'm a dumb-ass.

Not from a significant other, but the worst gift I ever received was five or six years ago at Christmas, from my parents, a set of the CD recordings of all the sermons from the previous fall's big Mormon confab at which the church's senior apostle went on about the evils of homosexuality and how gay people can change with the help of Jesus. Attached to the gift was a note telling me I really should listen to that particular sermon, which I'd already read and discussed with some other jack Mormon friends when it was given. I came very close to leaving the room, packing my bags, and catching a cab to the airport.

Bave is Mormon?!

Ben you beautifully oblivious bastard.

Actually, now that I think of it, I seem to recall DaveB having been Mormon. Ever since the name change, though, I've been too hung up on the sound and shape of "Bave Dee" to think of anything else when I read it.

God, I love that handle. Thanks, Bave!

Ben, are you serious or are you making fun? Because I'm actually a little neurotic that I bring up Mormonism too often in conversation, since most of my more bizarre anecdotes have to do with my bizarre religious background.

And no, thank you, Sifu!

218 wins. My dad's given me annoying religious crap occasionally, but nothing that major. Just books which I don't bother to read.

ben is very defensive sometimes.

Roll on!

I was serious. For just an instant I was taken aback. Then I realized that I was wrong to be, but I posted the comment anyway.

Parsimon's perspicacity is exceeded only by her laconicity.

Oh, okay, that's fine, then. I should be less neurotic. I hear there are pills for that, or hard alcohol maybe.

Ben, I surprised at you making such a simple spelling mistake. It's "laconiliciousness".

"city" for "liciousness" seems like a fairly complex spelling mistake to me.

Delicious (So delicious)
But she ain't promiscuous
And if you was suspicious
All that shit is fictitious
She blows kisses (mmmwwahhh)

So delicious (aye, aye, aye, aye)
So delicious (aye, aye, aye, aye)
So delicious (aye, aye, aye, aye)
She's laconilicious, t-t-t-t-t tasty, tasty

Laconiciliousness?

Now that just sounds sleazy.

232 is preferred.

Much better than Lacaniliciousness.

Now that's laconilicious!

Laconiciliousness is when your hair grows extremely slowly and slightly contemptuously.

now ben's drunk!

Parsimon is just trying to goad me into denying what is in fact false, the better to support her outrageous claim that I'm defensive.

I've hardly had a drop all day.

now ben's drunk!

All this frivolity is depressing. I'm still at work.

I am eating some mediocre chocolate. (Scharffen Berger bittersweet.)

You don't like Scharffen Berger? Which chocolate would you recommend, then?

I'll swap your chocolate for a half-eaten white nectarine on my desk.

BTW, the brownieI baked for you used Scharffen Berger cocoa powder. You liked those. I am seriously curious what you have against Scharffen Berger.

I am eating oatmeal, sadly. I am hungry, it is paper writing time, and this is all I have to eat besides delivered pizza.

"Now that's yonilicious!"

I am, however, listening to a pretty rockin' piece: "Sound Off" by Tim Brady for 12 trumpets, 12 trombones, 15 saxophones, and 3 bass drums. I do so like the brass. Maybe I should listen to L. Beyerstein's boyfriend's teacher's piece with trombones and Dr. King.

I am seriously curious what you have against Scharffen Berger.

It just doesn't excite me. I'd bake with it, sure, but for eating plain it's kind of blah.

"Now that's yonilicious!"

Parsimon can read, where "read" means "write from dictation".

Do you like stuff in your chocolate, then? E.g. truffles?

I was reading this article about the Dagoba chocolate company (the only stuff I like from them is the Xococatl hot cocoa with chilies and cinnamon) in The New Yorker (which you, Mr. No Judgment, call "middlebrow") and apparently the chocolate purists disdain those who eat choccolate with stuff in it. I hate those people, and those who claim to enjoy extremely bitter 90% cacao.

I don't mind eating plain chocolate, but I like truffles myself. All choclate is good, although lately I have preferred baking with it. Next time I will make you something ganache-y.

I just ate some delicious split-pea soup with carrots in it.

Dude, it goes toward the claim that you haven't touched a drop.

Your 12 trumpets, 12 trombones, 15 saxophones, and 3 bass drums sounds like a cataloguing endeavor. Dear god, I spent half the day counting things in such a manner, and had a flashback.

Dagoba chocolate with lavender tastes like soap. It's tasty, but thinking about soap while eating chocolate is unpleasant.

Also, 247 messed up its punctuation.

Now, the other chocolate bar I got the same day I got the Scharffen Berger, this Dolfin chocolat noir à l'anis vert, was quite good. The flavor combination worked surprisingly well. This is not to say that I can only anymore enjoy chocolate adulterated with other flavorings, like bacon.

The ocumare chocolate bar you can get at trader joe's is really good. By far the strangest chocolate bar I ever tasted was, hm, I can't remember the maker but it was the one that has little folded-over packages tied with a bit of ribbon, no lie, and the sort involved the name/type/whatever Menavava, but I think that maker has more than one bar incorporating whatever "Menavava" denotes. Anyway, this bar, you would eat a bit of it and it would be pretty good, if a little unremarkable, just kind of dark chocalatey, for a bit. But then, quite unexpectedly, it would all at once become really sour, even unpleasantly so. Really weird. Good for tricking your friends with, but possibly not much else.

Also, 247 messed up its punctuation.

How so?

The maker I was thinking of might have been Coppeneur, actually, and not the one whose packaging I described. "Subtle tartness" my eye.

those who claim to enjoy extremely bitter 90% cacao.

The Lindt 99% cocoa bar comes with instructions for how to enjoy it. In the interests of science I tried the Domori Puro 100% cocoa bar, and while I could understand how someone else might like it, I didn't. I think my ability to enjoy chocolate tops out somewhere around 80% cocoa content.

I am eating some mediocre chocolate. (Scharffen Berger bittersweet.)

Okay, now you're trolling. 70% or 82%?

I like chocolate bars unadulterated (I actually like SB bars on occasion), but I also like it with stuff:

-Lindt dark with bits of pear
-Villars with hazelnuts
-Rittersport with marzipan

I actually haven't tried Guittard, although it's from CA. Or most of the Dagoba Bars

Bars I might try:

-Charles bars, which have weird things in them like carmelized rice crisp and curry or sometg
-Theo bars, which also have stuff in them

They are pricey though, so I haven't yet. I get SB bars on sale sometimes at Whole Foods. But there is a world of chocolate bars out there.

Okay, that's it, next semester I am taking you to Bittersweet Cafe . We will buy chocolate bars and have really good chocolat chaud.

Have you had the Dolfin one with pink peppercorns, Ben? That one is my favorite.

I've never had straight up cocoa, but it sounds like the kind of thing I would like. The use of cocoa in savory foods is a stroke of genius, in my book.

Vosges! That's another one I must try. I forgot.

But why I am dragging you to Bittersweet:

"We offer over 120 bars from all over the world: dark, light, white, milk, and almost every flavor you can think of, as well as a few you probably haven't yet. Here's a sampling (in no particular order) of the fine chocolatiers we present:

Bonnat, Cluizel, Pralus, Domori, Amedei, Castelain, Scharffen Berger, Cote d'Or, Caffe Tasse, Plantations, Grenada Chocolate Company, Max Brenner, Valrhona, Guittard, Vosges, Cuba Venchi, El Rey, Dagoba, Divine, Callebaut..."

255: 70%.

Belle, please, don't think I haven't been to both Bittersweets multiple times.

The Charles bar yupped-up Nestle Crisp is decent, but nothing about which to write home.

Dude, okay then. Whatever. You don't have to go with me.

Neither of the Bittersweets has the selection of the chocolate stores to which I was dragged in Berlin, not even close. They say they have over 120 bars, but at any given time they seem only to have 40 or so.

Have you had the Dolfin one with pink peppercorns, Ben? That one is my favorite.

I have not, but now that I've located a reasonably-priced source for them I'll be on the lookout.

Dude, okay then. Whatever.

Sorry. I'm just defensive.

where is your reasonably priced source?

Callebaut is my favorite chocolate to bake with, though I'm not an expert. I remember having it the first night I was ever in NYC at DuPont in Brooklyn. That is, I ordered dessert with my friend, and it's true that we were ridiculously drunk, but we both thought we were going to pass out from happiness and asked the waitress to find out what chocolate they used. That happiness still comes back every time I have Callebaut.

265 should be DuMont, not DuPont. I should go to bed.

Have you had the Dolfin one with pink peppercorns, Ben? That one is my favorite.

Oh, yes. I just tried that a couple of months ago, and immediately went back and bought a second bar.

The best plain dark chocolate that I've tried is Pralus. Hand's down over anything else.

It is on Haight, between Steiner and Pierce. They only sell Dolfin bars ($5 a pop): it's mostly not a chocolate shop. Lots of flowers and such. I am hoping they might have some pussy willow later, though now that I think of it there's a shop in the castro that should have some around now.

(Pussy willow being the plant I characterized elsewhere as having many tufty nubbins, which I desire to put in a vase.)

And BTW, I will go alone to your reasonably priced source, even though I think it is fun to go to chocolate shops together.

I'm also defensive. I didn't mean to imply "let me introduce you to my famous chocolate discovery!" but rather that I myself was ignorant about Bittersweet's SF location and didn't expect that you went to Oakland all that often.

I had an international relatoins prof who told me that Bruges was really good for chococlate. I think it's sad when you have to travel so far for chocolate. I will go to Montreal this summer for a Law and Society conference and will report on its offerings.

Callebaut

Every time I read this it gets translated to Calabat. I've been reading this site too much.

Tufty Nubbins sounds a little dirty.

I am told that Pralus makes a very good 80% called "fortissima".

Is anyone is familiar with a Belgian named Pierre Marcolini?

Craig, who sometimes lurks here, lives down the street from the Oakland Bittersweet.

Tufty Nubbins sounds a little dirty.

Well yes. That's why I was so pleased to find out that the plant is called pussy willow.

One of my best friends worked at the PM shop here for a while. She let me in while she was closing the store and let me try everything.

There's a good chocolate place in Evanston, just off Main St a block east of Chicago Ave. Buys raw, makes Belgian-style chocolates.

I've used the SB 70% many times for a chocolate soufflé, the exquisitely simple recipe for which I've contributed to this very blog. Next time I will use the 82%, which I think will be of perfect non-sweetness matched with blackberry coulis and accompanied by Bonnie Doon framboise.

(I ended up thinking Marcolini is nice for getting chocolates from various locales, but I wasn't crazy about it.)

(Pussy willow being the plant I characterized elsewhere as having many tufty nubbins, which I desire to put in a vase.)

You can crack a smile, you can. Freakin' exhausting, I tell you.

(Pussy willows can by had by any, uh, any, uh, marsh? I don't know any more.)

François Pralus is one of the rare chocolate-makers (only three exist in France!) whose belief in the Aztec God Quetzalcoatl inspired the creation of his own chocolate.

Um, okay.

You see—when I said it had tufty nubbins, it was because I didn't know what it was actually called. It was an attempt to provide a description despite not knowing the name. You see. This is why the name ended up pleasing me. It was all unintentional.

You'd never heard of pussy willows till now?

Have you been to this place ?

Decent valhrona chocolat chaud, flavored with stuff (rose, cardamom, lavendar, etc.) and Leonidas truffles. Not as many bars though. But it's next to La Farine, which I love.

The chocolate place where I got the chocolate I gave my mom today is apparently pretty well known. At least that's what she told me when she called me to thank me. I was surprised that she'd heard of it; I only know it because it's across the street from my office. Local place. Not really in the same league as the fancy places being discussed in this thread, but they had some interesting stuff.

281 started before 280, but I have to look up how to hyperlink comments each time because I am lame.

279: when I saw that for the first time, it reminded me of something JZ Smith said about Robert Graves and his translation of The Golden Ass, that since Graves really did believe in all that Isis jazz his translation had or seemed to have an authority or something that you wouldn't get from someone who approached it form the outside.

The Belgians have everything nice. Beer, food, chocolate, firearms. And they're all insane: I have yet to meet a normal belgian.

I kind of missed the timing on this, but I've been working steadily (!). Anyway, a dear friend is closely involved with the A/rt B/ar folks. It may seem like a gimmick, but they're actually fanatical about the chocolate, and spent a lot of time in Switzerland finding a chocolatier to meet their standards. My friend basically doesn't eat other chocolate anymore. So, you know, recommendation.

The Belgians still don't have a new government though. Not that the lack is hurting them much.

They still don't have a new government? How long has it been now?

I admit I haven't been keeping a very close eye on Belgian politics lately.

About 175 days. Almost half a year. Amazing.

And to think that the US Supreme Court thought we couldn't wait a week or so in 2000 to find out who might head our new government. (Yeah right.)

Almost completely OT. I saw Greenspan tonight at the symphony and he was dressed rather plainly: just a suit.

Well I believe that D^2 just went on the record that Greenspan, politically, is nothing but a Republican hack. But I never understood what he (D^2, not Alan Greenspan) and Bitch were disagreeing about regarding opera dress. So I don't know who's been vindicated.

Hmm... 8:23 am GMT. Anyone know which fancy financial institution Mr. Davies works for? I've got Anytime Minutes.

Shorter unfogged: But I never understood what [x] and Bitch were disagreeing about regarding [y]. So I don't know who's been vindicated.

re: Belgians

And they're all insane: I have yet to meet a normal belgian.

Yeah, I used to have a Belgian flatmate. He was a really lovely guy -- extroverted, funny, generous -- but mad as fuck. His friends were the same. They all drank heavily, too.

OK, it's now the sentimental hour on unfogged again, says me. (technically it's 4-5 EST, but nm that). I didn't know this before tonight, but there's a girl in my chem class that is a dead-on ringer for my hs and post-hs girlfriend of 3 years, and seeing even such a replica broke my heart for the night. I know it's cliche, but she was so goddamned kind. She helped my grandmother get to the bathroom and entertained my geek friends without complaint(and my friends at that time were geeks like you wouldn't believe). I know that doesn't sound like much, but she was like that with everyone she wasn't too shy to talk to. I bitch about my life, but I've dated some genuinely good people, and that ain't nothing.

a really lovely guy -- extroverted, funny, generous -- but mad as fuck

It's funny how often my stereotypes are confirmed when I announce them. There must be a fallacy here. But the only Belgian guy that I met that did not meet this description was a biker who proudly proclaimed that he'd worked five years for a position in the Belgian Arts Council (or some such) that did not require him to show up. He took the 300 euro/month salary and used it to bike the world. At 300 euros, he didn't have room to be generous. Still quite insane though.

Is it the Ambrose one? I started reading that a while ago but gave up a couple chapters in. I forget why.

Same here. I also got mine as a gift from my MIL, IIRC. Like Unimaginative, I also had the same reaction about how accomplished the subject was by the age of 31 (I think I was 28 or 29 at the time).

Belle, did you actually read Pieces of Intelligence It is quite possibly the best thing to come out of the last 7 years of politics.

Also, Rummy's poetry has been set to music. Phil Kline, as an addendum to his CD of music based on sayings Viet Nam Vets engraved on their Zippo lighters, arranged some of the things Rumsfeld said at press conferences, including the magnificent "The Unknowns"

I am absolutely unsentimental about gifts. Poor Fleur experienced so much frustration trying to find the perfect gift for me, and seeing me respond with nonchalance or obviously forced enthusiasm. I really wanted to spare her the trouble, and I tried convincing her that she really didn't need to get me gifts, but she insisted, so we worked out a modus vivendi where she picks things off of my amazon wish list.

This brings me to another bit of wisdom I acquired after my own wedding: buy people the shit off of their gift registry, they will appreciate it more! I used to think that the gift registry was so cold and impersonal, and that the happy couple would really want something that came from me, straight from the heart. I now know that to be a crock, and I have the "artistic" blob of glass to prove it.

The one exception to this rule was a couple I know where both bride and groom were lefty M.D.'s. I called the NHS in the UK and had them send me a set of free commemorative photos of the 50th anniversary of the NHS, and had them expensively framed. Fleur thought I was insane, but it turns out they loved the gift and displayed it in the most prominent place in their house (or at least they did whenever I came over).

Re 298: it just occurred to me that it is conceivable that the lefty M.D.'s mentioned in 298 could be lurkers. Not particularly likely, since they are both so industrious, but not unthinkable, either. If so, hi J & Y!

Based on his writing style, his glittering eyes, and his manner, I believe that Rumsfeld was on a controlled dose of prescription amphetamine. Everything looks good when you're tweaking. I thought the same of Caspar Weinberger,

"The Very Real Threat of Comet & Asteroid Bombardment": Even better, this is the subtitle of a book called "Rain of Iron and Ice". The cosmos is so badass.

When I was 31 or thereabouts, I formed the ambition the write a screenplay based on the Corps of Discovery. It would have been a 'ship of fools' picture, playing off cultural differences among the men, and between them and the various Indians. The scene I'd most thoroughly thought out was a dream sequence at the headwaters of the Missouri, in which Colter would imagine what ended up happening to him there a few years later. Cruzatte playing the fiddle, and, near the North Dakota line, accidentally shooting Lewis. Teaching the Nez Perce to play baseball. Reprimand from the Omaha (iirc) chief about physical punishment of the men -- he would say he thought it showed an appalling lack of leadership.

Then the Ambrose book came out, the story got popular, Ted Turner bought the rights, and the dream died.

I may yet accomplish something in this life. Not sure it will be as cool as the movie would have been.

Sounds kinda Aguirresque.

I may yet accomplish something in this life. Not sure it will be as cool as the movie would have been.

I think you should spread the gospel of St. Andre.

But all true.

John Colter running naked at the Three Forks would probably remind people of Atanarjuat.

Ambrose is one of those characters who runs off the rails at some point, after a long and sober career. His early books, from the sixties and seventies were quite sane and contrary to then-popular wisdom. By the time he had convinced himself Powell was Eisenhower and went on tour with Brokaw, I had begun to doubt if he'd ever done anything good to start with, but he had. Even late in career, on a genuinely specialist subject, he was ok. I'm thinking of his introduction to Handbook on German Military Forces, probably written surreptitiously at Marshall's behest by the politically untouchable Truman Smith.

302: I have given up on ever accomplishing anything in life, and am focused now on not causing significant damage.

When I had ambition, though, I fantasized about writing a chamber opera based on the original Night of the Living Dead. The instrumentation would consist only of string quartet, and it would be produced for black and white film and not the stage, in order to capture the intimacy of the 1968 original.

The fact that I don't read music is a bit of an obstacle here.

No excuses, rob. You must do this! Quit your job if you have to.

There have been three Truman Smiths in history, it turns out. IDP is referring to a pre-WWII American military attache in Germany who (with the help of Charles Lindbergh) brought back a lot of information about the German Air Force. Like Lindbergh, he opposed American entry into WWII, which was why he was untouchable, but Marshall protected him because of the information he had. (All this from Google).

am focused now on not causing significant damage.

Rob makes an excellent point. It really is all about netting out ahead. Just like school. Avoid zeros and slide in with the gentleman's C.

Sadly, I've gotten my zeros, so now I have some work to do.

Avoid zeros and slide in with the gentleman's C.

New hovertext?

308: I have considered it. With our current resources, we could purchase a double wide outside of Canton NY, live near our friends and survive on my wife's income. I could be with the kids and pursue any stupid idea that comes into my wee little brain.

312:

be a Cam Boy Rob.

Do they have Cam Middle-Aged Men?

I'll have to email Apo to find out.

"Watch Cam Middle Aged Man rake the leaves!"

"Cam Middle Aged Man yelling at his kids!"

"Cam Middle Aged Man Realizing his Pants Don't Fit!"

It brings new meaning to the phrase "adult content"

Elgin, N.D., motherfucker!

All of my crusades seem doomed to failure.

What I wanted and never got was the Britannica Great Books

Don't sweat it. You didn't miss anything. Teeny-tiny type, no margins, tissue thin pages--those fuckers were impossible to read. I finally sold the set I had to some grad student for 20 bucks.

All of my crusades seem doomed to failure.

Uh, John, looks like your guys in ND may not be so gung-ho about new residents:

On one hand, state officials are working hard to attract people to North Dakota. The Griggs-Steele empowerment zone wired the area for high-speed Internet, improved parks and renovated apartments.

But as the conflict over the plans for a dairy here shows, residents are struggling with what Democratic state Rep. Lee Kaldor calls "cultural concerns."

Welcoming newcomers is part of the state's settler heritage, but "the average North Dakotan is German or Norwegian, Lutheran and white," Kaldor says. "If we have an influx of people with a different heritage, how will we react?"

Sen. Byron Dorgan, D-N.D., is co-sponsoring a "new homestead act" to provide incentives for people who relocate in North Dakota, but he sees the immigration debate as a "separate issue."

What I wanted and never got was the Britannica Great Books

Don't sweat it. You didn't miss anything. Teeny-tiny type, no margins, tissue thin pages--those fuckers were impossible to read. I finally sold the set I had to some grad student for 20 bucks

We've got a set, picked up cheap and reasonably decorative, useful for reference. Actual students at "The College" and probably at St. John's too, use much handier and readable paperbacks.

Phil Kline, as an addendum to his CD of music based on sayings Viet Nam Vets engraved on their Zippo lighters, arranged some of the things Rumsfeld said at press conferences, including the magnificent "The Unknowns"

This CD is really good, but the Rumsfeld stuff isn't an addendum as it comes before everything else. The best track on it is "The Funeral of Jan Palach".

(A setting of this poem.)

I received from one SO a French press for Christmas. I've gotten a lot of use out of it. Then for my birthday I got a travel coffee mug with a little press built into it, and I thought, OK, that's a little cheap.

Don't get your panties in a wad, Witt. They also accept Protestants of British descent, and I would expect Protestant Dutch, Flemish, and Swiss to be welcomed too.

probably at St. John's too

Yep.

I gave Flying Alarm Clock to eekbeat yesterday on the commemoration of her birth. I suspect it will prove to be among the worst gifts she's ever received.

(For the record, I got her nice, real presents, too, lest you think further ill of me.)

kind of a witch/monster stuffed animal thing the size of a soccer ball, that had wheels on the bottom and would roll around the floor cackle-singing halloween-ified versions of Elvis songs

Several years ago, Fleur's sister sent our children some kind of wheeled stuffed animal that sang an obnoxious song when you pressed a button, and of course the kids loved it and played it incessantly. Fleur struck back by sending her sister's daughter something equally loud and annoying, and the two of them have been locked into an arms race ever since. Since then we have received:

a candy cane that dances the Twist and sings "We Wish You a Merry Christmas";

a bling-laden frog that sings Beyonce;

a turkey in a pilgrim costume that sings a ditty to the tune of "Turkey in the Straw";

a reindeer with a blinking red nose that sings "Rudolph";

an Elmo doll that sings and performs the Hokey-Pokey;

...and many others too numerous to count. The most annoying thing is that the kids love them and won't let us give them away; we try to hide them away in the basement, but they inevitably remember them and ask to retrieve them.

(For the record, I got her nice, real presents, too, lest you think further ill of me.)

Ah, to be young and in love. At 40, you start giving nice, fake presents.

326: That's awesome! What a horrible noise; I bet it's quite effective until the day you crush it with the nearest heavy object. I was thinking of getting clocky, but I'm afraid it would wake up the people downstairs be it woke me.

WANT. (My husband owns one of these, but it no longer works).

327. Knecht, in Rite Aid the other day I saw a singing George Bush doll (country) and a singing Hilary Clinton doll (disco) sitting on the shelf among the cheap gifts. be very afraid.

327: That's hilarious, KR. My siblings and I have had a similar war; we managed to get last year's Singing Christmas Tree to Goodwill before our daughters could get a hold of it.

We also have a hot-potato gift in the form of a hideous wreath adorned with plastic fruit. The trick would be to, say, sneak it into a sibling's car and then call them when they were halfway back to Boston and suggest that they look under the front passenger seat. One Christmas, unloading the thing involved a high-speed chase through the streets of Portland, Maine. I've just remembered that it's in our basement. Heh.

a singing Hilary Clinton doll (disco)

Thanks so much, md. Guess what my nephew (son of dittohead BIL) is getting for Christmas this year.

327: I never buy these things, but I have an irrestible eight year old impulse to press the button in Walgreen's--then it's louder than I think & I slink away.

Knecht, your story made me laugh. My dad once gave PK a "Hippity Hoppity Easter Bunny" that sang the whitest-ass bad hip hop song about Easter you could possibly imagine. Somehow it was mysteriously left behind when we moved, along with the stick horse that also sang and said things in, bizarrely, two different voices, one a man's, and one a woman's.

Stanley, the flying alarm clock? You're evil.

My son wants one.

Katherine, I do that too. PK pushes *all* the buttons and then stands there laughing while I hide in the next aisle and pretend he isn't my kid.

the other day I saw a singing George Bush doll (country)

Fortunately, my SIL lives in deep blue country, so no danger that she will encounter one of those.

In my town on the fourth of July, there is a small parade where children get to decorate their bikes, wagons, strollers, etc. and parade through the town. Summer of 2004, Daughter One and I decorated her wagon with flags and red-white-and-blue streamers. She thought it would be a good idea to put a stuffed animal in the wagon, and she went and got her elephant.

Now I am a patient and indulgent father, but no effin' way was I going to let my child pull an elephant through town in the midst of GWB's re-election campaign. Fleur was beside herself laughing at the scene: Daughter One crying and saying "Why can't I have Elephant" and daddy gently cooing "Wouldn't you really rather have *Donkey* ride in your wagon?"

320, 325: I actually used the Britannica for Ptolemy and also Apollonius (the conic sections). At the time, that was the only edition they were available in. No, wait. There was a super pricey Almagest that no one ever bought.

Y'all can quit it with the 40 is middle-aged thing any time now. It may be technically so, but really. Exasperated, I am. Call everyone under 40 a child and I'll retire, satisfied.

Fortunately, my SIL lives in deep blue country, so no danger that she will encounter one of those

Probably true, although I'm certain they're available in big cities, where more red-state-minded people actually live, just because of the concentrations of everybody, but probably only at specialty stores.

In the country, one sees NASCAR-themed merchandise at gas marts, prominently displayed. You can get your Dale Earnhart or Bill Elliott poster here—I put one of those on my son's wall when he was a tot—but you have to look for them.

I've read several good-sized works from our GBWW set, when I haven't had other editions available. I'd certainly be willing to do it again. It's not exactly pleasant, but it's perfectly passable.

But it's worth noting that the set wasn't really designed for book-length reading, anyway. It's a reference set, meant to be used almost wholly in connection with the astonishingly useful useful "Synopticon", or whatever it's called. You want Swift's thoughts on love? It points you right to them. Wonderful.

a bling-laden frog that sings Beyonce;

I first read this as "a bin-laden frog". I think that would be much more interesting.

340: Now, now. I'd expect you to be on board with the idea that we should stop fearing aging and worshipping youth?

344: Indeed I am. Did it sound otherwise?

Who worships youth around here? I thought we mocked the young.

345: It sounded like you were saying that we should all pretend that 40 isn't middle-aged, but still young!

347: Oh. No, more that numbers mean nothing.

327: A friend of ours gave our kid an obnoxious stuffed mascot from Alma Mater that plays Alma Mater's fight song. We got even by having the kid bring it to a volleyball match between Alma Mater and Hometown School/Wife's Other Alma Mater/Friend's Employer and having him crawl in our friend's lap with it and push the button.

One year I gave my wife a new kitchen faucet for Christmas to replace the drippy one. She still wasn't all that amused even after the kid goaded her into opening it and finding the nice earrings stashed inside.

Everyone has bad gift stories by the brazillion--for Christmas this year for example my mother gave (yes, already gave) me a set of Elvis Presley collector pez dispensers, and no I'm not a collector of either Pex dispensers or Elvis memorabilia or anything else that would make this a thoughtful gift--I thought we were supposed to be discussing bad presents from significant others. That's much more restricted and much more fun.

I thought we were supposed to be discussing bad presents from significant others.

Or how about "bad presents to significant others"?

I'll own up to that. (1) I completely forgot about Fleur's birthday until I was arriving at the airport on the way to meet her for her birthday dinner. (In my partial defense, I was on heavy doses of Valium at the time). I picked her up a travel guide from the airport bookstore before getting in the taxi, but she wasn't fooled. (2) For Christmas I got her a desk organizer to clean up all the paperwork she leaves scattered in the kitchen. She was not amused. What made it worse is that her mother, completely independently of me, got her the same thing.

351 is indeed a better topic. My wife got a new vacuum for our last anniversary. It wasn't a surprise, and was what she really asid she wanted, but I still felt like I was doing something very wrong.

Everyone has bad gift stories by the brazillion

What was I thinking, getting her a zillion bras? And they weren't even in her size!

And they weren't even in her size!

This is its own category of bad presents from SOs. The cheap acrylic sweater I got from a boyfriend in college would have been a lot better if it hadn't been about twice my size.

354: This is why I have bought my fiancee zero articles of clothing as gifts in four years together. I figure it would be hard to get her to try something on and then still have it be a surprise.

You could have her measurements discreetly taken and then bring them to a tailor.

My mom has always gotten me clothes I don't like. Finally, frustrated, she decided she'd buy me clothes she thought were ugly. Didn't work.

she decided she'd buy me clothes she thought were ugly. Didn't work.

My mom just decided to start giving me money to buy clothes for myself. I find this a satisfactory arrangement.

One can also congratulate oneself for doing really well in gift-giving to SOs. To wit: a fish aquarium I once gave an ex, which required coordination with a mutual friend for acquisition, cleaning, populating and so on, so that it was an all-day affair. The ex was absolutely thrilled at the living room glow greeting him that evening. (Go figure.)

Likewise good gifts from SOs -- one of mine (the same one) was amazing at this. A wrought-iron plant stand. A bike he'd rebuilt for me. Enlargements of personal photographs we both very much liked.

So much negativity, so little time.

Given some of the crazy measurements they take for more tailored items, that could be really funny. "By the way honey, I was just curious, what is the distance between your breasts?"

And they weren't even in her size!

I face this dilemna because my wife, after the birth of two children, has become "full figured". Buying the XXL nightie might seem insulting, if appropriate. So jewelry it is!

The cheap acrylic sweater I got from a boyfriend in college would have been a lot better if it hadn't been about twice my size.

Just speculating here, but could it have been about the size of a sweater than someone might have previously given him?

"By the way honey, I was just curious, what is the distance between your breasts?"

Easily ascertained as a multiple of the diameter of one's cock, which can then be discreetly measured.

351: For Christmas I got her a desk organizer to clean up all the paperwork she leaves scattered in the kitchen.

I think that Unfogged should rest easy about being blamed for any problems that might Gof forbid occur within your relationship.

363: multiple? Surely you mean fraction.

I think that Unfogged should rest easy about being blamed for any problems that might God forbid occur within your relationship.

The concept of overdetermined causation from tort law is useful here.

multiple? Surely you mean fraction.

Maybe your wife's tits are that small.

? Distance between would get larger, the smaller the boobs.

The space between large tits is larger than the space between small tits?

"By the way honey, I was just curious, what is the distance between your breasts?"

You don't ask, you just keep a tape measure handy.

369 in agreement with 368 to 367.

At the sight of his wife's breasts, KR goes cross eyed.

I actually used the Britannica for Ptolemy and also Apollonius (the conic sections). At the time, that was the only edition they were available in.

My sister mainly uses our parents' old books; she's had to buy very few. She might have bought those two, though.

Harvard Classics are where it's at, though.

though though though

I'm simply boggling at 365 in light of "the diameter of one's cock." On the one hand, if you're going to brag, don't be tentative about it, sure. On the other hand, Brock, you're expecting us to believe you've reproduced?

At the sight of his wife's breasts, KR goes cross eyed.

Most do, my friends, most do.

366: Ogged, KR is trying to set you up for a megabucks straw-that-broke-the-camel's-back lawsuit. "But for this website....." And probably Fleur is talking to lawyers too.

374: Santa with a lisp?

370, etc. Y'all liberal arts types? Where are we going to measure? At the sternum? And so on.

People who don't understand of Ptolemy and Apollonius are barbarians. Didn't Ezra Pound say that?

I don't think I understand 375, but it feels somehow like an insult.

You know, at snotty websites like Awful Plastic Surgery, a wide gap between the breasts is seen as indicative of a boob job. Although I guess that is less about actual measured distance than the breasts always remaining noticeably discrete, as it were, and never mushing together. Good lord, I'm thinking about this.

So Fleur had a boob job?

380: No, Ezra Pound said this:

Cantico del Sole

The thought of what America would be like
If the Classics had a wide circulation
Troubles my sleep,
The thought of what America,
The thought of what America,The thought of what America would be like
If the Classics had a wide circulation
Troubles my sleep.
Nunc dimittis, now lettest thou thy servant,
Now lettest thou thy servant
Depart in peace.
The thought of what America,
The thought of what America,
The thought of what America would be like
If the Classics had a wide circulation...
Oh well!
It troubles my sleep.

Huh. Come to think of it, I was misinterpreting 'distance between the breasts' as center to center, or nipple to nipple, distance. If you're talking about the width of the flat spot over the sternum, 365 makes more sense.

The girl I thought I'd marry was temporarily living far, far away in Alaska, where apparently the lack of women can make the whole fidelity thing tougher for an attractive young lady. After a devastating couple months of calls & e-mails, we decided to stay together. My birthday rolled around, and she sent me a cheesy Alaska beer mug. Hoo boy was I pissed.

It's so cold in Alaska.

a wide gap between the breasts is seen as indicative of a boob job

I've never understood that. It seems to me that a lot of women's breasts will likely have space between them if they're not wearing smoosh-'em-together undergarments.

Yeah, she easily could have asked one of her boyfriends to spring for a quality gift.

385: I think your initial interpretation was correct. That would be the relevant measurement for putting flaired seams in a tailored garment.

And Brock, I don't believe I'm at liberty to talk about Fleur's breasts on unfogged, but I'll take it as defending her honor to say that she comes by her beauty naturally.

If you're talking about the width of the flat spot over the sternum,

Well, that was in truth what I was thinking, but I admit I don't have any what we're talking about, other than the enormity of my cock.

385: The nipple-to-nipple measurement was what I originally meant.

I mean, I drink my beer straight from the bottle. It was like she didn't even know me.

I don't believe I'm at liberty to talk about Fleur's breasts on unfogged

WHIPPED!

The large boob gap is a sign of bad plastic surgery precisely in those cases where you have large boobs and a large flat spot over the sternum. Ordinarily, as KR seems to think, this spot is small on heavily boobed women, but when you put some gell packs in small boobs, you get the same size flat space, with big boobs, because the implants sit away from the ribcage.

I'm not really sure how you measure the flat spot, though. Like any hill, the exact point where a boob starts can be vague for smaller slopes.

It seems to me that a lot of women's breasts will likely have space between them if they're not wearing smoosh-'em-together undergarments.

Now I understand. I thought Armsmasher meant the MMPI when he said they would have testing stations at DC Unfogged.

the enormity of my cock.

One of those rare cases in which the word is used correctly.

WHIPPED!

All right, all right, they're like...it's like feeling two bags of sand!

397: damn, I didn't know that. It seems such a common word--I can't believe I've always heard it used incorrectly.

when he said they would have testing stations at DC Unfogged.

The measurement instruments are conveniently calibrated in cockwidths.

400:

european or american?

389: Exactly.

When things fell even more messily apart later, I was working on the same hall as the mug-giving ex. Awkward. Once I had to take a meeting with the guy she'd been seeing in Alaska, and due to lack of space, we met in the bldg cafateria. She walked in to get a cup of coffee. Aaaawkard. I should have given him the mug.

395: It occurs to me that we'd have more success interesting undergrads in Sorites paradoxes if we used boobs instead of bald men and heaps of sand.

Also, "distance between the breasts" is a terrible way to describe a nipple-to-nipple measurement. That's "distance between the nipplies". Although I admit I was wondering what sort of garment would require a measure of the distance between the breasts. Distance between the nipples is probably a more useful measure.

404 contains one of those rare typos that make it a far better comment than it otherwise would have been.

401: Maybe it's the smaller american standard that's throwing Brock off.

403: Interestingly, I recently was using weird & funny sex examples to illustrate the difference between moral intuitions and moral knowledge and was actually asked to stop by one of the students, who said she got squicked out by any discussion of homosexuality.

Ordinarily I would have just honored her request, but it was made in such a homophobic fashion that I felt obligated to use it to springboard a discussion of homophobia and classroom tolerance.

handy of her to provide a springboard.

Boing!

I recently was using weird & funny sex examples to illustrate the difference between moral intuitions and moral knowledge and was actually asked to stop by one of the students, who said she got squicked out by any discussion of homosexuality.

Sorities sex would be an interesting topic. How many guys does a man have to blow before he can be called gay?

409. Boing!

I thought it was "Shwing!"

Sorities sex would be an interesting topic. How many guys does a man have to blow before he can be called gay?

How many seconds can a man seriously believe that he could blow more than zero men without being called gay before he can be called gay?

411:

Wayne's World : Schwing :: Beavis & Butthead : Boioioioioing

410: Sextus Empiricus used a sorities argument to claim that incest was morally acceptable. He began by pointing out that there is nothing wrong with touching your mother's big toe with your little finger.

Seriously though, gay chicken is possibly the best real-world example of the sorites paradox.

How many seconds can a man seriously believe that he could blow more than zero men without being called gay before he can be called gay?

Why don't you tell us Ned? Seeing as you've done the hard part, as it were.

Probably revealing my ignorance, I assume 414 is a joke?

How many men can do a man's hard part before he can be called gay?

He began by pointing out that there is nothing wrong with touching your mother's big toe with your little finger.

Mother: "That's not my toe!"

Son: "That's not my finger, either."

418. I afraid that too many comments in this thread means I'm gay. How will I tell my wife?

417: Sextus was a Pyrrhonian skeptic, so he attempted to relieve people of the burden of believing things by any means possible. Sometimes he used good arguments. Sometimes he used bad ones. They were all the same to him, since he had no beliefs about the quality of arguments. Or the wrongness of incest.

How will I tell my wife?

Best to break the news gently. I suggest a puppet show.

Sorities sex would be an interesting topic. How many guys does a man have to blow before he can be called gay?

A friend had a story (perhaps apocryphal) about a gay friend of hers, call him A. A had a not-previously-known to be gay acquaintance, B, who attended a party at A's place, and got kind of flirty. And then hung around after the party to help clean up, and kept on with the flirting, while also rambling on about how he was exploring some things, but really didn't consider himself gay, and was feeling sort of tentative about matters, but none the less felt that an expression of affection between two men didn't mean anything necessary about the orientation of one or the other. And so they made out some, and B would at intervals sort of pause, and start talking about how this didn't mean he was gay. But matters continued happily along, until finally they, shall we say, engaged in a mutually satisfying activity to completion. At which point A looked meltingly over at B, and said seductively "Now you're gay."

423. Isn't that the plot of this movie?
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0065488/

420: with flowers.

423: Ha! I knew a fellow once who claimed that he, himself, was not gay, but the guy who sucked his cock was.

I believe 426 is the reigning belief among men in Saudi Arabia.

424: Could be -- it was told to me as a story about a friend of a friend, and I haven't seen the movie.

why do all these homosexuals keep sucking my cock?

a fellow once who claimed that he, himself, was not gay, but the guy who sucked his cock was.

Pretty much the entire Middle East and Latin America think that.

whups, wrong link.

430: I thought that mostly drew the line at being bottoms.

The whole Middle East and Latin America think oudemia's friend's friend is gay? He must really get around.

433: Or just very public.

430: And sort of the whole ancient Mediterranean.

Also, appearing in gay porn videos doesn't necessarily make you gay:

The past Merloni referred to is Tadano's having appeared in a gay pornographic film when he was a student at Tokyo's Rikkyo University some three years ago.

In a news conference at Jacobs Field in Cleveland on Jan. 27 -- the last time, according to club officials, that he intended to speak about the subject for the foreseeable future -- Tadano read a statement in English. ''All of us have made mistakes in our lives,'' he said. ''Hopefully, you learn from them and move on.''

He added: ''I did participate in a video and I regret it very much. It was a one-time incident that showed bad judgment and will never be repeated. I was young, playing baseball and going to college, and my teammates and I needed the money....He also said, through an interpreter: ''I'm not gay. I'd like to clear that fact up right now.''

(not that it's impossible for straight guys to get paid to have gay sex on film, but I still think "hey, my team needed the money, it doesn't make me GAY" has still got to be the best "I'm not gay" press conference excuse of all time.)

436: But it's ok, because he's a pitcher?

Also, appearing in gay porn videos doesn't necessarily make you gay

That could be true. "Gay for pay" is a pretty standard category.

439: more often applied to prostitues, but true enough.

Works the other way 'round, too.

"Gay for pay" is a pretty standard category.

At least that's what I tell myself as I'm pocketing the money from the guys at the truck stop on the Interstate.

436: That article makes the life of a foreign national playing sports in America sound pretty shitty:

Tadano said at the news conference that he would not be bothered by remarks from opposing players or hecklers.

''I don't understand English,'' he said, ''so it really doesn't matter.''

Ah, for the good old days, when female hysteria, childhood masturbation, and male homosexuality were just fun activities rather than all-consuming identities.

My now-Ex gave few gifts, claimed holidays were too commercialized, and said that gifts given for no reason were the only ones worth giving or receiving. And he rarely gave anything for no reason, either.

One day he called to say he'd gotten me a something. For no reason. He made a big deal out of how much I'd like it. This got me very excited, as I received so few gifts from him, that this must be something special--he'd called to mention it! it was for no reason! I thought about it the rest of the day and couldn't wait to get home from work.

And do you know what it was? It was a cantalope. An overripe, mushy cantalope.

He said he knew I liked fruit. I said I must have, since I'd gotten involved with him.

at least you have that beautiful comeback to remember, wrenae. That's a gift of sorts.

215: I am feeling very left out over here, by the way.

Of course I have no idea if what you wanted redacted was redacted. But I infer from the fact that you had to remind LB about the email that it wasn't done immediately. The situation is a bit like the one described here: had you emailed me, it would have been done in a timely manner.

I think that I left you out B-Wo, becasue I find your e-mail address/ handle confusing. Is it Benw-lfs-natunfoggeddotcom or Ben w-lfs-nat or benw-lfs-nat?

I don't know how great the distance between my boobs on my sternum is. Are there data on what the average range is? I think that it might be hard for me to measure, since mine are big enough that the slope falls backward initially instead of curving upward.

444: Was he very hateful? Or just very clueless? Both?

Imaginary internet friends are doing a below-par job of supporting my friday afternoon procrastination this week. Just saying.

I don't know how great the distance between my boobs on my sternum is.

I could measure that for you at the DC meetup.

I think that it might be hard for me to measure, since mine are big enough that the slope falls backward initially instead of curving upward.

I'm having trouble visualizing what you mean there. Could you post pictures?

448: I agree. I had to finish up work that was only one hour overdue because hitting refresh had accomplished nothing more than six times in a row.

You all can get a rough idea by looking at teh (fully clothed) pictures of me in the Unfogged flickr pool.

447: In general, both. On this occassion, he was genuinely excited to give me the cantalope, and surprised that I wasn't more pleased with it.

452: The couple of times I've asked about that, I have had no response. Clearly it's an in joke, and doesn't really exist.

452: I hear you. It's sort of the auto-cleavage problem.

356
"You could have her measurements discreetly taken and then bring them to a tailor.":

w-lfs-n, how would you "discreetly" measure your SO?! While she's asleep? And measure her bust, waist, hips, arm length, inseam, etc. without waking her up?

Unless she has them on file somewhere, it's hard to go by measurements (even if that's the most accurate). Avoid clothing, unless she shops at one store and fits one size consistently. Even then, that's a difficulty, because few women are proportionate top-to-bottom. I myself am 2-4 on the bottom, but 4-6 on top, so I always end up buying larger dresses and have them taken in so that they fit the bust. I think it's easier to shop if you're bottom heavy, but there is disagreement on this.

452,455: Brock will lend you his cock to help with measuring.

Gift certificate at tailor.

As another testament to either hatefull-ness, clueless-ness, or both: he left me for another woman, but I was the one who had to move out of our house. In the interim, as I searched manically for a new home, he peppered me with anecdotes about his new girlfriend, their dates (he was spending weekends with her openly since I found out) and compatability (she was so much more like him than I was), and tried to elicit advice from me on their relationship. He seemed genuinely puzzled that I didn't want to talk about it and would burst into tears at the mention of her name. "I'm just so used to talking to you about everything," he said.

w-lfs-n, how would you "discreetly" measure your SO?!

with a big one of these ?

Imaginary internet friends are doing a below-par job of supporting my friday afternoon procrastination this week. Just saying.

Okay, here's my daughters' latest joke:

S: Knock knock.
M: Who's there?
S: Diaper.
M: Who diaper?
S: You have to say "Diaper who?"
M: Diaper who?
S: Diaper went in the bath, but there was no bath tub!

Thanks, ladies and gentlemen, they'll be here all week.

457: Whoa there... it's Knecht's cock that's available for loan. Mine's clearly too thick to make a useful measure.

459: Good gravy! That's really shocking. I mean, just one of those things would be terrible (I know a woman whose heart was fully broken a second time, because the guy who left her called her up and asked the name of her perfume because he wanted to buy it for his new special lady). Definitely thoughtless and hateful!

462: Didn't you claim useful fractions? I don't really want to know how you slice it, whatever worked for you.

evel knievel dead.
the end of an era.
now there was a great american.

459: Ouch. I would have a lot of trouble not doing nasty vindictive things in that sort of situation.

S: Knock knock.
M: Who's there?
S: Diaper.
M: Who diaper?
S: You have to say "Diaper who?"

Seriously, Jesus, your daughter has to teach you how knock-knock jokes work?

Speaking of hookers:

A Chilean prostitute has caused a bit of a stir by selling 27 hours of rumpy-pumpy in aid of tomorrow's annual TV Teletón campaign for the country's disabled kids.

454: You have to email one of the active main bloggers on this site to ask to be invited to the flickr pool.

459: Oh god. I had a similar situation in my undergraduate days. Weirdly, I later got back together with the guy in question. Good at dating, that was me!

465 is exactly right.

Ogged or Armsmasher, actually, I think. I don't think anyone else can let people into the Flickr pool.

(After that, I did break up with the guy for good -- Snarkout is not he!)

469: Like they'd let me in.

474: It's probably because you're black, soup biscuit.

475: At least, when I'm drunk. So how the hell did apo' get in, I want to know. Turncoat.

For the sake of precision, to be sure of whether particular acts or general characterizations were intended, I went to look up rumpy-pumpy. Only I typed rumpy-rumpy by mistake, and got a page mostly about classifying Manx cats.

473: I went to a teeny, tiny college where one had to get over the guy who just dumped you dating your friend or roommate. It could get a little unpleasant if anyone decided to twist knives. An ex-gf of my sophomore-year bf intentionally walked in on us to cry about "what he was doing to her" (bringing a girl -- me! -- to the dorm they both lived in) and a good friend of mine (who lived in the room next door) who started dating a boyfriend of mine right after he dumped me used to come by to tell me what she and all the people I was hanging out with 2 days earlier would be doing that night.
Ah, college!

I claim as a matter of truth that cannot be questioned that appearing in a gay porn video does not, in fact, make you gay, unless perhaps you appear for free.

479: yeah, but you would, wouldn't you?

And I gave all the money to my church afterwards to fund missionary work in the Sudan, so really no one can question my motives.

481: Depends. Did the missionaries have alter boys?

alter boys s/b "M2F"

Alter boys! Kinky!