Impolite Company

hooters-girl-ashley.jpgI was raised with a certain code of behavior, especially regarding women.  Women are to be regarded with the utmost respect.  This eventually translated into a crippling fear of the opposite sex, a fear for which I blame both my parents: my mom for having me put women on a pedestal and my dad for not being around to teach me how a man is supposed to interact with women.  That is why I and all the male heterosexual children of divorce will remain single from now until eternity.  Once eternity hits, we’ll find a nice girl to settle down with.

However, I know that there are women who work in a different section of society.  They operate purely in the realm of the sexual so conventional social mores of interaction no longer apply.  The rules in this realm are the complete opposite.  You’re supposed to ogle.  You’re supposed to put money inside underwear.  You’re supposed to not care about what they have to say or who they are as human beings.  The customer-stripper relationship is sacrosanct the only “No” you’ll encounter is when it comes to touching.  They can touch you but you can’t touch them.  This is better than no one touching you at all.

But in between is where the world is turned upside down and I’m lost in the ether.  This is the realm of Hooters, casino waitresses, and any other attractive young woman who is praying off your sexual appetite but will in no way disrobe for you no matter how many singles you have.  So what to do?  What is the standard social practice?  Am I supposed to stare?  These women are working jobs that have been done by many a clothed human being.  Bringing me my food does not get me aroused at Chili’s but if I go to Hooters, it’s a different story (especially if I’m hungry).  Pretend that the waitress isn’t attractive?  Pretend that her t-shirt and booty shorts aren’t serving their intended purpose exceedingly well?  It’s too much stress.  I just want to enjoy my chicken wings without feeling like a pervert.

Not knowing how to act around attractive women on a day-to-day basis is difficult enough.  But at least they’re not actively trying to tempt me with the illusion of any kind of physical contact (although they’re more than welcome to try!).  I cannot say the same for these testaments to sexual innuendo.  I’m not mad at them or even depressed.  I just wish Emily Post had laid out some ground rules for the situation.

Thursday, June 19th, 2008 hotness, humor 2 Comments

Time For Me To Live Abroad

Note to Self: Move to New Zealand.

Sunday, March 2nd, 2008 brilliant, hotness, humor No Comments

Hot for Diablo Cody

Being that it’s a slow day, I’m going to post something I could really post on pretty much any day because right now, the greatness of Diablo Cody does not decline. Her movie Juno was not only critically acclaimed, but continues to stomp the box office, and, oh yeah, yesterday it got four Academy Award nominations: Best Picture, Best Director (Jason Reitman), Best Actress (Ellen Page), and of course, Ms. Cody for Best Original Screenplay. I had the pleasure to meet Cody and Page a couple months ago and one day I will chronicle it among my Blown Inteviews. That’s exactly what it sounds like: Interviews with awesome people that I totally blew. I’m really just a fan masquerading as a journalist which is why when it comes time to interview someone like Cody or Edgar Wright, I swallow my own tongue and drool on myself for about twenty minutes until the publicist drags my bloated heap out of the room. You’ll read all about it. It’s just grand. So is this video of Diablo Cody from last night’s Late Show with David Letterman:

Wednesday, January 23rd, 2008 brilliant, hotness, movies No Comments

I Like The Way You’re Put Together

I was reading A.J. Jacobs The Year of Living Biblically and as he attempts to follow the rules of the Bible as strictly as possible, he comes upon the problem of lust. As all good books do (and this one is great), it got me thinking: Yes, our culture is inundated with sexual imagery. But at the same time, am I not allowed to appreciate it? Jacobs, attempting to follow his massively researched understanding of the Bible, tries to avoid sexual imagery whenever possible (which is especially difficult considering his job at Esquire magazine) and I just don’t understand this kind of sexual avoidance. I don’t understand why lust is necessarily a bad thing.

I do think it’s a bad thing when, in the presence of someone you find sexually attractive, you don’t look at them, but you leer at them (concept totally stolen from ViolentAcres). You’re not appreciating what turns you on about them but rather how what turns you on about them serves your sexual needs. And in the presence of a flesh and blood human being, when so much more than their looks is available for you to discover, you’re really just shortchanging yourself and the other person by only considering the physical.

But there is something to be said for the physical. I frequent sites that showcase naked women and I stopped feeling creepy about it when I realized that I wasn’t filing this material way in a spank bank but that I could appreciate and discern what was attractive about these women. They were models and they were naked and as a modern, mature adult, I didn’t giggle or slobber but decided which ones were too plastic and which ones had that most crucial element in their photos: personality. My heart beats faster at the faintest glimpse that this woman isn’t a statue but a three-dimensional person who will forever hold her secrets within the photo (these photos tend not to be the of the sexually explicit variety; sexually explicit photographs usually don’t have a lot of secrets).

Now you’re probably already gagging and enraged because I’ve referred to women as “ones”. I’ve sexually objectified them. To that I simply respond, “You’re absolutely right.” When it comes to photographs, everything is an object. The photographer and the subject can go to great lengths to create a sense of personality, but it’s incredibly difficult to have a conversation with a photo. When looking at a photo, it’s difficult to understand the depth of a model’s hopes, dreams, likes, and dislike and why she’s not just a still life. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a woman’s physical beauty. Not define her by it or reduce her solely to it, but to simply appreciate it. And women can feel the same way towards an image of an attractive man. However, they probably don’t because while men initially respond to the physical, women are more stimulated by the mental/emotional. That’s why you can see some schlub on the arm of a beautiful woman but a woman considered to be generally unattractive will stay at home eating a pint of Haggen-Dazs and watching the Lifetime network (and hey, the only thing wrong with that is the Lifetime network; crappy TV isn’t going to make you feel any better).

So I don’t understand why we feel like we have to turn away. I don’t understand why fundamentalist religions like Judaism and Islam feel the need to hide the beauty of their women. Does it make the men feel weak? Does it make the women feel powerful? Or does constant sexual repression require the need for further repression lest a drop of sexuality leads to a torrent of uncontrollable lust? I don’t get it. And I don’t think anyone should feel ashamed for appreciating the beauty of anyone or anything. Whether you go overboard and become a slobbering monkey is entirely dependent on the individual, not the model.

Sunday, November 4th, 2007 hotness, religion No Comments

Hot Israeli Women Soldiers > Killed By Terrorists

As a Jew, I am entitled to partake in the Taglit-Birthright trip to Israel. Even though I have friends who have gone on the trip, sing its praises, and remind me that since it is my birthright, the trip is all paid for (although I apparently may have to buy the occasional snack or souvenir; cheap Jews…), I did not find the trip appealing because getting murdered by Palestinian terrorists was not my idea of the ideal vacation, and for me, it is most definitely a vacation because as a non-practicing Jew, I have little desire to experience any kind of spiritual fulfillment-by-proximity. My spirit is filled by the words “Free Trip to Israel”. But my spirit is then crushed when I think, “You’re gonna get blown up in a cafe and you don’t even drink coffee; you just went in to look at the muffins; what a way to go,” And while my friends assured me that the trip was perfectly safe and the group was always escorted by a soldier, I still felt that the risks (however exaggerated in my own mind they may be) outweighed the benefits.

But then I remembered two very important things: 1) All Israeli women must serve in the Israeli army for two years after they turn eighteen; 2) Some Israeli women are incredibly smashable. And if you take a hot woman who fears that she may die in combat (however slim that possibility may be) and you present to her a young, virile, American male she can “hit it and quit it,” so to speak, then my chances for sex skyrocket from 0% to 5%. And as a man at 0%, I can’t sexually afford to ignore those incredibly slim odds.

Sure, I can visit the Wailing Wall and take in a culture that is both familiar and exotic, but more importantly, I will have the opportunity to have sex with a woman that knows how to kill me quickly and efficiently using only her bare hands. L’chaim!

Monday, October 22nd, 2007 hotness, humor, stupid No Comments

Best Way to Bad News

In the event of the apocalypse, I would like the story reported on by ridiculously attractive French news anchor Melissa Theuriau. She could tell me that all life as we know was about to die horribly and I could handle it because she’s so hot. And I really think there’s an industry for all bad news. If someone was going to tell you that you only had a year to live, who would you rather hear it from: ugly boring doctor or painfully hot woman (or hot guy, tranny, whatever floats your boat)? I’d go with hot woman. And since most strippers are at least marginally attractive (it does seem to be one of the few pre-requisites for the job), why not take them out of stripping, put them in the hot nurse’s outfit, and have them deliver the bad news?

And it doesn’t have to be just strippers. Porn stars and hot actresses who haven’t made it yet, and really any good-looking woman can apply for the job. And while bedside manner and ability to explain the finer points of the bad news would clearly not be universal, the hot ladies with these skills would theoretically get more work and get more money. While there are concerns about confidentiality, I would gladly waive my right to privacy if a woman as fine-looking as Melissa Teuriau was going to be the one to tell me that the flesh-eating bacteria was gonna finish me off in a few hours. She could even tell me through glass. No hug necessary.

Tuesday, October 9th, 2007 hotness, humor No Comments