Another Tasteless Post from Rog'

As a college kid, I found myself doing the asanas pictured here on more than a few occasions. (Boy, I thought I was just drunk on my ass. I had no idea I was doing anything spiritual!) 

Yeah, here he goes with that Hindu shit again--asanas are postures, positions used in the practice of Yoga. And of course there are many divergent forms of Yoga itself: Bhakti Yoga, Hatha Yoga, Kundalini Yoga, among others. Different approaches perhaps, but they all endeavor to take you to the same place. 

These three Yogis have clearly reached a transcendent state of being, from their faithful practice of the asanas of Irish Yoga. It looks as if they've added alcohol to the ritual as well. Being of Irish and Scottish ancestry, I feel I can tell the following joke with relative impunity:

How can you tell when an Irishman's really drunk?
When he's lying on the ground and waving his arms to keep from falling any farther. 

And this one:

What's the difference between a Scotsman and The Rolling Stones?
The Stones sing, "Hey you get off my cloud", while a Scotsman says, "Hey McLeod, get off my Ewe!" 

And having no sense of political correctness(in fact, a contempt for it, for its very anality), I feel I can tell these with that same impunity:

What's the difference between a Jewish pedophile and a regular one?
A Jewish pedophile says, "Hey, little boy, wanna buy some candy?"

What do Washington, Lincoln and Jefferson all have in common? They were the last white people to use those names. 

This last one I actually told to a black person(sorry, but I just can't bring myself to say African-American. It's that political correctness thing in part, but mostly I just think it's stupid), who immediately burst into laughter.This was on a gig- on which, strangely enough, I was the only white person. I later told this joke to a white person I thought would appreciate it, and the lady tending bar interjected(as perhaps she should've..), "did you tell them that one?!" 

Yes. I did. And they loved it. The musical community here has had its share of in and out groups, at times a disgusting divisiveness and insularity, but between black and white, it's always been an integrated one.Thus there's a lot of joking around about our various cultural differences. And the joking around works because neither 'side' takes it seriously. And also because we're talking institutionally, not personally. We're not attacking individuals. 

This is the only time I'm in any kind of agreement with the euphemistic parlance of political correctness. When individuals are involved. I don't like the idea of being given a script of any kind, which political correctness endeavors to do(you should call them this..)but I still think it's hurtful to just arbitrarily bring up the fact that someone's shorter or taller or lighter or heavier than average. It automatically sets them apart, even ostracizes them a bit. 

Part of it is just a perceptual thing. The "deviations" from the norm are the first things you notice, and it seems harmless to just blurt them out: "hey, big Dan! Little Carol!"(As a person shorter than average, I envy those of average height, because they're not noted, labeled. They just slip on by..You never hear anyone saying, "hey, medium-sized Fred!"). Much as I love women with large breasts, this has given me new sympathy for them, since those are always the first thing you notice(no matter how gentlemanly you're trying to be..).

I don' t care for short jokes, because they're personally injurious. It's been a disadvantage in life, so there's nothing particularly funny about it. But I like Irish and Scottish jokes. I'm fine with the insinuations that we're a bunch of drunks and bugger farm animals, because they're cultural insinuations. 

And I'd love to hear some white people jokes. I know they exist, and have begged a black friend or two(oops, I mean African-American- no I don't)to tell me a few. So far, no soap. Just one about all white people dying off and the elevators being quiet. Yes, Muzak- a cornerstone of My White Heritage! A cultural stereotype! Love it! 

So no, I guess I'm not very politically correct. I still say Merry Christmas, still say black(I was almost gonna sic Bill Cosby on ya, with his quote--verified by Snopes--on that whole African-American thing, but naah), and have never used the politically correct phrase making love. No, it's still screwing, shagging, boffing or just plain coitus, as far as I'm concerned. 

Once on an episode of Cheers, Carla referred to one of her sexual escapades as, "once I was makin' love with this guy.."And this still rings false with me. It sounds interpolated, redacted for correctness.Actress Rhea Perlman would read the line thusly, but it's something her character Carla Tortelli would never say. No, Carla would use one of my words . Well, maybe not coitus.

The only term I've seen recently that makes any sense, as far as all this correctness crap is LGBT. Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgendered. Sounds descriptive without pretending to be something else. Though I gotta say, the first time I saw LGBT I thought they were talking about Golf.

The Path of Colon Cleansing: Hot Sauce as a Upaya

Upaya, as I understand it, means basically the method of one's endeavor, and is usually meant to indicate a self-devised way along the path to enlightenment. It's one of the cool Hindu words I learned many years ago reading Be Here Now. Another one I like is siddhis, which means "powers". Also sadhana. One's spiritual work, of which I suppose this is a part. Well, after awhile, everything becomes part of your sadhana. 
  
In my last blog(A Public Service Announcement- really, that's what it's called!)I talked about the gentle rectal relief provided by Celery in one's diet as a means to cleansing one's Colon. And I'm here today to talk about what may well be the polar opposite, an antithetical(but still perhaps effective)approach. 

People probably aren't aware of the extensive research that goes into writing Roger U Roundly. Why, I've spent as much as 45 minutes to an hour on Wikipedia gathering, collating information to bring to you right here. And Colon Cleansing was no exception. I did look into it briefly here on the world wide web. But to be honest, I found it kind of boring. Not to mention disgusting. 

So I turned my attention instead to the various hot sauces on the market, initially one called Colon Cleanser. Back in my daygig days, someone brought it in on a food day, along with another such product called Ass from Hell. 

These products, it would seem, also purport to clean out your Colon, although through more severe means. This is, then, the hard stool school, the anal academy of austerity in purification. In Hindi, it's called Tapasya. Straightening by fire, as it were. And in my research, I found a plethora of such products, some with pretty creative names. Sphincter Shrinker, for instance. 

There's also a Dr Assburn's, and Mega Death- and what has to be my hands-down favorite "offensive" hot sauce name: Anal Angst. 
       
   For me, personally, if I were concerned with Colon care(man, this Colon stuff sounds funny no matter how you put it!), I would probably opt for the gentler way. The way of Celery. Celery-Do.  But to each his own. Both approaches apparently take you to the same place. Colon Samadhi. This is a non-dualistic state of being where you and your Colon become one. 

I guess this is one area in which my life has been a fortunate one. For 59 years now, my Colon and I have had an existence where we're blissfully unaware of one another, and I hope it stays that way. No more Hindu words or terms at this point(I don't know too many more of them anyway!)but rather a Country Western song, to capture the relationship between me and my Colon, and what I hope continues: If the phone don't ring, you'll know it's me.                                                     

A Public Service Announcement(really!)

I swear--in every day spent on this Earth, there's something new to learn! My lesson for today(at least the one I picked up on)was about the benefits of eating Celery. Now I've been aware of the positive health dividends you get from green leafy vegetables in one's diet, but Celery was one that eluded me. 

Until now.  As far as what's happening in the picture, with the toothbrush being inserted up this guy's rectum(and like it was a pool cue!), this does not engender positive feelings in me. Even if it is gentle massaging strokes, my sphincter has always been an exit only kinda area. Still, the beatific expression on the gentleman's face in the picture makes you want to have what he's having. So perhaps we can view the Jolly Green Midget wielding the toothbrush figuratively, an "as if" player in this scenario. 

Okay, yeah. So Celery is a good thing I guess. It helps provide the rectal relief so sorely needed by so many. The only thing that's inconsistent on this page, though, is that last line: Ribbed(and misspelled as Ribed)for Xtra pleasure. And yes, got the double-entendre there as well: xtra is both a cutesy abbreviation for extra and a cross-reference to the movie rating system, as if the pleasure derived is X-Rated. 

I mean, they are talking about eating the Celery, right? Ingesting it orally..

Now THIS time he's gone too far!

This is clearly a moment of intense concentration for the young gymnast pictured here. She's on her way someplace, as far as the purposefulness of her motion. I wasn't there, so I don't know what preceded or followed it, but here we have this moment frozen in time. 
And, speaking of being "frozen in time", being stuck in a sort of chrono-cryogenesis(did that work?), I'm reminded of an old Twilight Zone episode, titled "A Kind of Stopwatch". A guy gets a special kind of watch that can stop time- and then re-start it of course, all with the push of a button. Of course this ends up backfiring on him in that very Twilight Zone ironic way, characteristic of Serling's writing and also Charles Beaumont's(my favorite Twilight Zone writer, even more than Serling- sorry, Rod!).

But still. Being able to stop the rest of the world and then re-start it at your convenience would be quite a heady feeling. You would dine and shop for free at all times- anything you could get for yourself would be yours. Wow. All merchandise. Pretty much anyway.

Of course sex would have to figure in there someplace. Childish as it may be, you'd have to indulge the inevitable voyeurism that would rise in you. Okay, I guess I'm making a boner joke here, what the hell. But you'd end up checking something out. A shower room. I dunno. Something. 

And then you have a moment like this one caught on film. If you were there, and froze the action with your special camera right at that moment, so that only you moved or did anything--what would you do? 

Right. That's what I thought. I probably would too. You'd have to! It's something you'd never get to do in 'real life'(well not screwing somebody per se, but the special circumstances), a once-in-a-lifetime kind of event. Even though the lifetime in question was fabricated at that moment. 

Case in point: some years back I worked in a local music store giving lessons. I was hanging around the front counter, and the clerk/bookkeeper was looking for a particular file. "I can't find Pavlov" she said. "Hm, that name rings a bell", I replied. 

Now that's probably the only time in this life that I'll get the opportunity to use that old line! Similarly, this would probably be my one chance to do something like that. It does seem creepy to me though--I started to call it a kind of necrophilia, but it's more like making it with an extremely drunk chick. After she's passed out.(No I've never done that.Even I have my limits.). 

Still, just to know you did it. You had sex with a gymnast(well, sort of)right in the middle of her performance! Even though once you got back to your seat and clicked your watch to resume the action it would mess up her routine. Might be a slightly delayed reaction, but there would be one. 

I wouldn't want anything to harm her routine, but it would really be worse for me(or whoever perpetrated this stopwatch shenanigan), more emasculating,  if she didn't have any kind of reaction and just finished out like nothing had happened! Now that would be an ironic, retributive Twilight Zone ending. Just like Serling or Beaumont would write it.     

User Friendly

This is a company that got a mention on the news recently: WAND-TV in Decatur Illinois. And along with the story were testimonials from a few Sugar Babies, young women who registered to get some financial help from a Sugar Daddy out there. My curiosity piqued, I looked into it a bit further.

Naturally, there is a website where you can register(and for free!) as either a Sugar Daddy/Sugar Mama or Sugar Baby, plus within the website many helpful tips-many of them found in their blogsite(lots of tres informative articles by both Sugar Daddies/Mommas and Sugar Babies!). 

If you register as a Sugar Daddy, you are asked about your annual income and net worth, and you are also expected to pick a level of financial support for your prospective Sugar Baby. The lowest level is purely negotiable, and generally under $1000 per month; and the highest is over $10,000 a month.  
   
So you figure, the attractiveness of the Sugar Baby is going to be commensurate with what you're paying out. I took a look at some of the pictures of Sugar Babies, and that's a matter of opinion. No, those prices are commensurate with the girl's materialism. Or, perhaps, shamelessness.

What actually happens here, I think,  is that the Sugar Daddy/Sugar Mama strikes a deal with the Sugar Baby to pay x amount of money on a monthly-or-so basis in exchange for sex. It all happens on the negotiating table(yes, maybe right on the table itself!), and who knows what people work out. Maybe the monthly allowance is a base salary for the Sugar Baby, and then sex is meted out on a commission basis: buy me a mink coat/automobile and I'll give it up for you. You get one sexual favor for every item you buy for them. 

And of course these Sugar Babies have to be giving it up, perhaps  reluctantly, but still.. Otherwise, why would someone be paying them a monthly allowance? According to the website, the average Sugar Baby gets about $3000 per month. Even if you're rich as Croesus, and this is just pocket money(or some twisted tax break), you'd still want a return on your investment. Sorry but I've gotta say it- some bang for your buck.

I started this post with a kind of smarmy sarcasm, and the veils of civility are starting to come off. Fuck it, let's be honest. I can't stand these guys. And I don't know who I have more contempt for, the Sugar Daddy/Sugar Mamas or the Sugar Babies. They both buy into it of course. The Sugar Daddy/Sugar Mama(known from here on in as SD/SM)uses the Sugar Baby(SB)as merchandise; and the SB uses the SD/SM as a meal ticket. Of course the website defends these relationships as mutually beneficial, but really they're mutually dehumanizing. 

What bothers me so much here is certainly not the sex. No, sex is fun, sex is good. Sex is the giving and receiving of pleasure. We could use more of that in the world(I certainly could!). What bugs me here, what truly rankles my ass is more in the attitude behind it. Having worked for the State for over 20 years, in a human services office where we dealt with the public, I've seen this a lot: the something-for-nothing,  user mentality. What can I get from this person/this situation/this government agency?

But my first taste of it was a bit earlier. As a college kid in Baltimore in the late 70's there was a girl I met who mentioned in conversation "the man who pays my rent". Don't remember the context but don't really need to, since the gist of the matter was that someone else paid her rent.  I only saw her that one time, and didn't ask any particulars(even though I knew), but found that whole thing distasteful- that she was letting someone else pay her way in life. That was perhaps my first exposure to User 101. 

And like I said, I saw it a lot on my job, right from the beginning, which was back in 1991.I was interviewing a young woman who had applied for unemployment benefits, and had apparently asked her a most impertinent question: are you looking for work?(They are actually required by Law to look for work while receiving benefits, and could lose their unemployment money if it's deemed that they're not).  She got indignant. "I don't want to work!"And then I got pissed. "Well I don't want to work either!"Didn't really get the point across to her, but it did shut her up. 

I'm sorry but I resent that shit. I had to get up every morning and go off to do something all day I'd just as soon not have done, having to deal with indolent asses like hers, and still maintain some cheerfulness about it. Likewise, aside from parents who helped me as long as I needed it, I've always had to pay my own rent. Somehow it just doesn't seem fair that I've had to do these things and you're exempted.

That's what bugs me about these Sugar Babies. If anything, I'd make sure they earned their money. I'd have them sign a contract, a legally binding document stipulating that in exchange for said monthly allowance, they are required to put out.  And the frequency and manner would be commensurate with the income level they were receiving.  

At least it's more fair.  Well, there have always been and probably always will be people who just get what they can from others. If this company were to advertise itself as a sex shop, pure and simple, I think I'd have more respect for them. 

I don't remember the specific book or short story it came from, but it was by Kurt Vonnegut Jr, and described an "arrangement"(much of the sort this company purports to set up, only greatly simplified)wherein a woman would show up at The Wilburhampton Hotel every 10 days to service a man. And as I remember, it was pre-paid, so that it would continue for quite some time. 

It's still merchandising, but at least it doesn't pretend to be anything other than what it is. The world's oldest profession. Well that's my rant. I don't have any more answers than when I started but that's how this stuff makes me feel.