By the not-packed state of things, it’s pretty easy to tell that I am heading off to Amsterdam tomorrow. I might be a bit more sanguine if the laundry were done, but hey, that’s what the last minute is for: doing everything you didn’t do in all those other minutes.
Some fun, then, before we go. The boldface titles are links to sources, today; you can’t make this stuff up.
A Guy Walks into the Bar: In Hong Kong, government prosecutor Roderick Murray drank two martinis and a few beers, then headed in to court to whoop it up at a sentencing hearing. He giggled, clapped, drummed his fingers on the desk and wore sunglasses in session until the judge took offense, and then retreated outside where he posed as Rodin’s “The Thinker” for photos. Fraternity stunt? Reality show? Too many Twinkies?
No Ifs, Ands, or Butts: At a July wedding in Manila, ex-cousin-of-the-bride Benjie Ganay slipped and touched his cousin’s bootay as he fell. The bride’s father, Eladio Baule, got angry at this, and rounded up his son, another cousin, and a handy nephew to defend the bride’s honor. So they hustled Ganay off to a “secluded place,” stabbed him to death, roasted the body with kerosene and coconut leaves, and then ate some bits and served other leftovers to the rest of the wedding party. Presumably it tasted like chicken.
Don’t Know Much About History: If you live in the 53 states of the U.S.A., with its four branches of government (legislative, executive, judicial and administrative), you’re surely familiar with the two houses of Congress – the Senate for Democrats, and the House for Republicans. And you’ve probably read that famous Arthur Miller play, Death of a Traveling Salesman. If so, you are a student, probably Hispanic, in L.A.’s California Alternative High School, where they taught you all of the above and charged you as much as $1,450 for a worthless paper that said “Diploma” on it. Either that, or you are the Republican candidate for President; one of those two things.
Seconds of Pleasure, 107 of Them: While your mileage may vary, Berlin’s Humboldt Uni(versity) tells us that the male orgasm lasts 10 to 13 seconds. I had never counted. Female orgasms are reported lasting between 7 and 107 seconds, with muscle contractions measured as long as 51 seconds. Me, if I had an orgasm for 107 seconds, I’d probably never walk again. Confirming a truly sad state of affairs, this sexology page reports, per Kinsey, that 75% of men reach orgasm within 2 minutes, which has got to suck. Women average 20 minutes to reach orgasm, with the shortest reported time to orgasm clocking in at a scant 15 seconds. They don’t give her phone number.
Nothing Else Matters: I’m not sure how I could have missed the 2004 International Conference About Nothing this past February, but I’ll make it up somehow. Meantime, the inimitable, inevitable, ineffable popular astrologer Rob Brezsny has this message to Tauri for the week ending tomorrow:
To hint at the potentials of the coming week, I’ll appropriate the words of avant-garde music composer and author, John Cage. In describing his work, he once said, “I have nothing to say/ and I am saying it/ and that is poetry.” Here’s an altered version, Taurus, created especially to suit your current astrological needs: You have nothing to do/ and you are doing it/ and that’s your genius.
Which about sums it up.