Best Excuse For Hiring a Prostitute Ever!!!

Shit like this just makes my heart sing....

Anti-gay rights activist resigns after trip with male escort

By the CNN Wire Staff

May 12, 2010 9:35 p.m. EDT

(CNN) -- The anti-gay rights activist who recently toured Europe with a male escort has resigned from a group that promotes counseling for people who "struggle with unwanted homosexuality," though the man insists that he is not gay. (Insists! If I stamp my feet and scream loud enough and keep saying it it's true! Hey when did Jay Marrioti get here??)

George Rekers resigned from the board of the National Association for Research & Therapy of Homosexuality (sounds hot!), the group's website said Tuesday.

"I am immediately resigning my membership in NARTH (Almost sounds like NAMBLA) to allow myself the time necessary to fight the false media reports that have been made against me," (and the one where they have me getting on the elevator with my gay escort. they can do anything on these new fangled computers these days.)Rekers said in a statement posted on the group's website. "With the assistance of a defamation attorney, I will fight these false reports because I have not engaged in any homosexual behavior whatsoever. (Except anal sex and having my salad tossed. Other than that? Straight as an arrow!)

"I am not gay and never have been," the statement said. (Larry Craig? Who left this door open?)

The association accepted the resignation (NO!), saying on its website Tuesday that it "would hope that the legal process will sufficiently clarify the questions that have arisen in this unfortunate situation."(That's a ringing endorsement if I've ever heard one)

The group has scrubbed Rekers' writings from its site, with a page that formerly featured his work now bearing the message, "Sorry, you've reached a page that doesn't exist." (LALALALALALALA I can't hear you!! LALALALALALA!!)

Rekers, a Baptist minister, has been a prominent and effective foe of gay rights legislation across the country. He is a co-founder of the Family Research Council, one of Washington's most powerful conservative Christian advocacy groups, and has weighed in on anti-gay rights legislation across the country. (God, life is good when shit like this happens)

He received about $120,000 to appear as an expert witness in a 2008 case challenging Florida's ban on gays and lesbians adopting (Save me from myse.lf!!)

Rekers has written that gays are a "deviant segment of society." (And how!)

Revelations of Rekers' trip to Europe with a male escort surfaced last week, shortly after he returned to the U.S.

The male escort who traveled with Rekers -- who goes by the name Lucien, though that is not his given name (I did NOT need to be told THAT)-- said that he advertises his service exclusively on the website rentboy.com,(travel site?) where visitors can choose from hundreds of male escorts in suggestive and revealing poses. (Oh)

Lucien says Rekers first contacted him through the site. He was hired to give Rekers daily "sexual massages" on the trip, (nothing gay about that) which took them to London and Madrid, Lucien says. (Is that a euphemism? As in "I took my wife to London AND Madrid last night! Twice!!)

"He got excited," Lucien said of the massages, adding that Rekers wanted Lucien to touch him, though Lucien said that he didn't have sex with Rekers and that Rekers didn't ask to have sex. (I just spit took)

According to a contract Lucien showed CNN, he was hired to carry Rekers' bags and to provide at least one hour's worth of massage every day in their shared room, at a cost of $75 a day. (If I was a raging closeted bigoted repressed homosexual looking for a quiet evening of homoerotic sex, I would consider this a bargain!)

The contract also stipulated that Lucien spend at least eight hours a day with Rekers, including sharing two meals. (HOT!!!)

Rekers' website provided a different account of how he met Lucien and of the trip, saying he needed help carrying luggage because of an "ongoing condition following surgery." (Oh, man. I can't really top that with a snark. It speaks for itself.)

The site said Rekers "found his recent travel assistant by interviewing different people who might be able to help, and did not even find out about his travel assistant's internet advertisements offering prostitution activity until after the trip was in progress. There was nothing inappropriate with this relationship." (Except the whole hand job from a guy thing)

Rekers' site said he "was not involved in any illegal or sexual behavior with his travel assistant."

Rekers is a distinguished professor emeritus at the University of South Carolina School of Medicine, according to his website. (Bible Thumper Medical School. Guess where I'm going when I need my next rectal exam!)

He earned a Ph.D. in psychology from the University of California, Los Angeles, an M.B.A. from Southern Wesleyan University and a Doctor of Theology degree from the University of South Africa, his site says.

Lucien says Rekers told him about other boyfriends before the European trip. But Lucien says that in their ongoing conversations, Rekers continues to deny that he is gay. (Wide stance.)

"I actually asked him over the phone, 'Do you think you're gay?' and he said, 'no'," Lucien said, adding that Rekers asked him not to share his story with the media.

In a statement on its website Tuesday, the National Association for Research & Therapy of Homosexuality said it stood by its work promoting therapy for gays who wish to be straight. (Seems to working great! Keep up the good work!)

"(T)hese personal controversies do not change the scientific data, nor do they detract from the important work of NARTH," the statement said. "NARTH continues to support scientific research, and to value client autonomy, client self-determination and client diversity." (What?)

CNN's Randi Kaye contributed to this report.

Someone Read A Book!

My God! I'm 22, half-drunk, sitting at the Deadwood and the marginally attractive sophomore anthropology major whom I had Western Civ from 1865 with just sat down next to me.

It's a flashback of historic proportions.

A piece from Natalie Portman written for HuffPost a few months ago.

Jonathan Safran Foer's book Eating Animals changed me from a twenty-year vegetarian to a vegan activist.

Is it just me or don't a lot of vegetarians seem to treat their vegetarianness like they went through AA or something, hoping against hope that they can make it to the next year and collect their new chip. Alcoholism is a disease. Eating meat isn't. Sorry.

I've always been shy about being critical of others' choices because I hate when people do that to me.

Me thinks there's a 'but' comin'

I'm often interrogated about being vegetarian (e.g., "What if you find out that carrots feel pain, too? Then what'll you eat?").

That's the best witticism that's been thrown your way? Kinda weak. I'm dubious if that's what she's putting in the first graf to lead off this 'transformative' proclamation.

I've also been afraid to feel as if I know better than someone else -- a historically dangerous stance...

but?

...(I'm often reminded that "Hitler was a vegetarian, too, you know"). But...

THERE IT IS!

...this book reminded me that some things are just wrong. Perhaps others disagree with me that animals have personalities, but the highly documented torture of animals is unacceptable, and the human cost Foer describes in his book, of which I was previously unaware, is universally compelling.

Whoa! She's been a vegetarian for 20 years and didn't know that animals were tortured in the meat-making process on factory farms? Geesh! Read a newspaper and watch one of the 14 million documentaries made in the last 30 years on the subject.

The human cost of factory farming -- both the compromised welfare of slaughterhouse workers and, even more, the environmental effects of the mass production of animals -- is staggering. Foer details the copious amounts of pig shit sprayed into the air that result in great spikes in human respiratory ailments, the development of new bacterial strains due to overuse of antibiotics on farmed animals, and the origins of the swine flu epidemic, whose story has gripped the nation, in factory farms.

Using that logic, with Toyota having issues with accelerator pedals and 40,000 people dying each year from car accidents (#1 cause of death for people between ages 1 and 34), we should just outlaw cars. Seems like that's a reason for better environmental/farm rules and regulations, not outlawing meat.

I read the chapter on animal shit aloud to two friends -- one is from Iowa and has asthma and the other is a North Carolinian who couldn't eat fish from her local river because animal waste had been dumped in it as described in the book.

Anyone else get the feeling that hanging around Natalie might be like hanging around an Amway rep? But, you know, A LOT WORSE. You just KNOW the pitch is coming at some point. Where's the tipping point? Three appletinis? Two hits on the bong?

They had never truly thought about the connection between their environmental conditions and their food. The story of the mass farming of animals had more impact on them when they realized it had ruined their own backyards.

But what Foer most bravely details...

Glurp

...is how eating animal pollutes not only our backyards, but also our beliefs.

Glurp-glurp

He reminds us that our food is symbolic of what we believe in,

Bow at the altar of the wise Mr. Foer!

and that eating is how we demonstrate to ourselves and to others our beliefs: Catholics take communion -- in which food and drink represent body and blood. Jews use salty water on Passover to remind them of the slaves' bitter tears. And on Thanksgiving, Americans use succotash and slaughter to tell our own creation myth -- how the Pilgrims learned from Native Americans to harvest this land and make it their own.

Well, first, most Christians do the 'body and blood' thing. Not just Catholics.

Mostly, though, I heart the religious overtones (and the alliteration) here, connecting the eating of meat to some sort of wrong-headed religious practice. So if I'm to take that comparison literally, are Christians cannibals for taking a representative body of Christ wafer every Sunday? This religious conspiracy is more sinister than I thought!

Gee, I wonder if Natalie's going to talk about unthinking zealotry and then fall into the trap herself.

And as we use food to impart our beliefs to our children, the point from which Foer lifts off, what stories do we want to tell our children through their food?

I'm going to tell them to not listen to a Hollywood actress that makes bullshit assumptions about my supposed lack of knowledge and conscientiousness of the food I eat.

I remember in college, a professor asked our class to consider what our grandchildren would look back on as being backward behavior or thinking in our generation, the way we are shocked by the kind of misogyny, racism, and sexism we know was commonplace in our grandparents' world.

Oh sweetie. You ARE in your 20s, aren't you?

He urged us to use this principle to examine the behaviors in our lives and our societies that we should be a part of changing. Factory farming of animals will be one of the things we look back on as a relic of a less-evolved age.

So far, I've been told by Mrs. Portman that factory farming is bad, which, by and large, it is, especially with lax environmental laws not regulating the air, water and human effects historically well enough to inhibit said problems with such things. All that is well-documented and I agree.

What I haven't been told is why this is a reason to be a vegetarian or vegan, or how 'succotash and slaughter' means anything in this context. Did Native Americans run factory farms? My history teachers did do a terrible job!

I say that Foer's ethical charge against animal eating is brave because not only is it unpopular, it has also been characterized as unmanly, inconsiderate, and juvenile.

Um, what? Unmanly? Some dope reviews the book ($20 this came from an Amazon reviewer) and calls it unmanly so that covers the 'it has been characterized' label.

If that's the case, Obama might actually be a communist because some commenter on the National Review website said so.

But he reminds us that being a man, and a human, takes more thought than just "This is tasty, and that's why I do it." He posits that consideration, as promoted by Michael Pollan in The Omnivore's Dilemma, which has more to do with being polite to your tablemates than sticking to your own ideals, would be absurd if applied to any other belief (e.g., I don't believe in rape, but if it's what it takes to please my dinner hosts, then so be it).

WHOA!!!!!!!! (and the impetus of this SNC post)

That, quite possibly, is the most offensive thing I've read here at the SNC (and that's saying a lot). Her little 'e.g.' there puts her in the category of mind-blowingly stupid. Is she equating rape with eating meat? Probably not but not outside the realm of the more fanatical vegan world. Is she juxtaposing them? Yes. In an attempt to be provocative, she meandered into a realm and opened a door. The logic of typing that (and keeping that after editing) paints her into an extremely precarious ethical corner. Let's go down that road, Natalie and see where it leads. Wanna see where putting the eating of meat and such a reprehensible criminal act into the same discussion gets you? Let's.

And Natalie takes a page from Jessica Wakeman! Her choices are unpopular, yours are unthinking. She is brave and willing to be a martyr for her cause in the face of such ignorance.

But Foer makes his most impactful gesture as a peacemaker, when he unites the two sides of the animal eating debate in their reasoning. Both sides argue: We are not them.

Ah, 'The Other' argument. I've been transported back to freshman rhetoric.

Those who refrain from eating animals argue: We don't have to go through what they go through -- we are not them. We are capable of making distinctions between what to eat and what not to eat (Americans eat cow but not dog, Hindus eat chicken but not cow, etc.). We are capable of considering others' minds and others' pain. We are not them. Whereas those who justify eating animals say the same thing: We are not them. They do not merit the same value of being as us. They are not us.

If a vegetarian/vegan wants to enlighten you as to the immoral act of eating flesh, you have to be a willing participant, right? You have to be open to such things. You have to be open to someone telling you, as Ms. Portman said in the intro to this piece, that they are allowed to feel as if they know better than you and that he/she is allowed to be critical of your choices.

You know how that person shouldn't start off such a discussion, if allowed? By couching it in religious terms, evoking the body of Christ, saying Native Americans taught us Americans 'succotash and slaughter in the 'creation myth' (another doozy), by juxtaposing rape and meat-eating, by saying meat-eating is on par with misogyny, racism and sexism and should also be seen as a relic of some unenlightened, less-evolved age. Not only is doing such a thing offensive, presumptuous and laughingly silly, it's not how you go about making a point. It's bad thinking and bad writing. She just evoked the entire history of the damn world with nearly every struggle in the history of mankind to make a point about eating.

Always the first sign of a desperately unimaginative mind.

And so Foer shows us, through Eating Animals, that we are all thinking along the same lines: We are not them. But, he urges, how will we define who we are?

Um, not buying factory farm meat?

Being considerate and thoughtful about where you buy your meat. Knowing where your food comes from.

Just a thought.

And for the record, I was a vegetarian for a year or so (got my chip!) for health reasons with a dash of 20-ish moralism.

You know what I didn't do?

Proselytize with a presumptive and unthinking zealotry usually reserved for the Tea Bagging crowd.

Because, you know, that makes you a fucking asshole.

Oh, Goody.

It's been awhile since we've gone down Douchebag Avenue with ol' Davey.

Heeeeeeeeeere we go again....and a 1 and a 2...

-----------------------------

Let me ask you all a question. Does watching the NFL playoffs sometimes make you look back at your athletic past and say, “Well, I could be Peyton Manning if I had only worked harder at it?”(Not once.)

If your answer is yes, I say to you … Really?! Come on now.(What if you were actually really good?)

The fact that you would even compare yourself to anyone else is a sign of emotional immaturity. (I really have nowhere to begin with the stupidity and hypocrisy of this statement coming from a guy who bases his ENTIRE CAREER on comparing himself with other men) The only person you need to compare yourself to is yourself.(Oh. My. God. Fuck off.)

It doesn’t matter what area of your life or yourself you want to be better. (Can someone get this guy an editor, please. Try reading that sentence 3 times and see if it smooths out. I gave up) Ask yourself how you were one year ago compared to how you are now.(I hated you then and I hate you now...Same will be true next year)

Have you grown in the last year? (Back hair? Yes.)What have you learned? (You're an ass.)How have you progressed? (Isn't that the same as grown? See? By the word) What do you still need to learn, and what are you going to do to get there?(Prove your work. What is this? Algebra class?)

I receive emails all the time in which people will write things like, “David, I’m just not as good as my friends with women. I go out with my friend Bill and he’s so great at meeting women. I just wish I were him.”(No he doesn't.)

Let me tell you something. With that attitude, you’ll never get good at it.(Get good?)

What you should be saying instead in your email to me is this: “God, I went out with my friend Bill the other night and it was so much fun. He’s amazing with women, and I just learned so many things from him and had such a great time! I’m so happy that he has this skill, and I look at him as kind of a role model.”(I am going to strangle him. Seriously.)

Never compare yourself to other people. (Got it)Never look at somebody else and say “I wish I had as much money as my friend Tom,” (You already said this) or “I wish I had as good a marriage as my friend Jimmy.”(Yeah. Wishing for a better marriage is loser talk. Go hit on strange women at Whole Foods!)

Instead, go to your friend Tom and find out how he made all that money. (Born into it)Learn his secrets,(genetics) so you can incorporate them into your own life.(Fuck an heiress) If your friend Jimmy has such a great marriage, then sit down one night with him and his wife and ask them what the secret is to their happy marriage.(Money)

You do this so that you can learn from successful people. (Like David tells his losers at his bullshit seminars) That is for what successful people are there. (For us to learn from? Huh?) Successful people are there so that you can learn from them. (You just said this TWO SENTENCES AGO!)They are not there to make you jealous.

If you are jealous of other people, you are never going to learn from them. Jealousy is an ugly emotion. (So is arrogance and douchebaggery)If you’re happy about other people’s success, on the other hand, then you are able to sit down and ask them about how they achieved their success.(He has now said this or some derivative of it 4 times now)

Everyone loves to share their journey, (they do?) and life is all about paying it forward. (there we go! David gets his buzzword bullshit in..BTW, Pay it forward jumped the shark in 2001) If you pay it forward, (He said it again!) then you are passing good lessons on to someone else.(I want him hurt. Badly.)

So, the next time you’re comparing yourself to somebody and you experience those tinges of jealousy, remember this blog. (And vomit) Instead of comparing yourself to them, ask them what they did to make themselves such an expert in the field of women, marriage, money or whatever it might be.(5 times! David is going for the record that he himself has set!)

That is what it’s all about. That’s what I’m here to do for you. (Make me throw up in my mouth?)

How did I get so good? (How do I act so well?! Ian McKellan in "Extras" anyone? ....Oh...I literally just sighed verbally. I seriously just pick a blog randomly and go for it. As i write little snipes, it's the first I've read them) Well I give you everything that I’ve ever done, and show you how I learned and overcame all of my own struggles, on my Community site and in my videos. I share everything that has worked for me.(Thanks. The SNC wouldn't be the same without you)

I just want to continue to enlighten you and help you grow as people. It makes me happy to share my knowledge with all of you.(And satisfies your massive ego!)

So take jealousy out of the equation, and put admiration into it. (After I just told you to basically be jealous of me) You’ll find life will become a lot easier and a lot more fulfilling.(Aaaaand...fuck you, you fucking asshat cockbag.)

Get Ready for the Prescription Drugs!!

Audiences experience 'Avatar' blues

(CNN) -- James Cameron's completely immersive spectacle "Avatar" (so much for impartiality) may have been a little too real for some fans who say they have experienced depression and suicidal thoughts after seeing the film because they long to enjoy the beauty of the alien world Pandora. (where's her box?)

On the fan forum site "Avatar Forums," ("....I know you won't believe this, but, the Na'vi chick next door has been looking at me with lust...") a topic thread entitled "Ways to cope with the depression of the dream of Pandora being intangible," has received more than 1,000 posts from people experiencing depression and fans trying to help them cope. (Good......God) The topic became so popular last month that forum administrator Philippe Baghdassarian (Bagged a Sarian?) had to create a second thread so people could continue to post their confused feelings about the movie.

"I wasn't depressed myself. In fact the movie made me happy ," Baghdassarian said. "But I can understand why it made people depressed. The movie was so beautiful and it showed something we don't have here on Earth. (what, jungle?!?) I think people saw we could be living in a completely different world and that caused them to be depressed." (I felt the same way after Thunderdome, only, it was because of Tina Turner's outfit)

A post by a user called Elequin (the name of the prescription drug that will be invented for this 'disease) expresses an almost obsessive relationship with the film.

"That's all I have been doing as of late, searching the Internet for more info about 'Avatar.' (and "Ten Ways to please your Man"....) I guess that helps. It's so hard I can't force myself to think that it's just a movie, and to get over it, that living like the Na'vi will never happen. I think I need a rebound movie (try porn) ," Elequin posted.

A user named Mike (hey! I know him!) wrote on the fan Web site "Naviblue" that he contemplated suicide after seeing the movie.

"Ever since I went to see Avatar I have been depressed. Watching the wonderful world of Pandora and all the Na'vi made me want to be one of them. I can't stop thinking about all the things that happened in the film and all of the tears and shivers I got from it," Mike posted. "I even contemplate suicide thinking that if I do it I will be rebirthed in a world similar to Pandora and the everything is the same as in 'Avatar.' " (um........just go back and read that a second time and add heavy sarcasm. Read the whole thing that way. It makes it bearable)

Cameron's movie, which has pulled in more than $1.4 billion in worldwide box office sales and could be on track to be the highest grossing film of all time, is set in the future when the Earth's resources have been pillaged by the human race. A greedy corporation is trying to mine the rare mineral unobtainium from the planet Pandora, which is inhabited by a peace-loving race of 7-foot tall, blue-skinned natives called the Na'vi. (unobtainium? Pandora? Na'vi? Wow, I didn't know the movie was THAT subtle....)

In their race to mine for Pandora's resources, the humans clash with the Na'vi, leading to casualties on both sides. The world of Pandora is reminiscent of a prehistoric fantasyland, filled with dinosaur-like creatures mixed with the kinds of fauna you may find in the deep reaches of the ocean. Compared with life on Earth, Pandora is a beautiful, glowing utopia. (except for the dinosaurs)

Ivar Hill posts to the Avatar forum page under the name Eltu. (if you give us his real name, then, why the fuck do we need to know his pseudonym for this story??) He wrote about his post-Avatar depression after he first saw the film earlier this month.

"When I woke up this morning after watching Avatar for the first time yesterday, the world seemed ... gray. It was like my whole life, everything I've done and worked for, lost its meaning," Hill wrote on the forum. "It just seems so ... meaningless. I still don't really see any reason to keep ... doing things at all. I live in a dying world." (Fuck you)

Reached via e-mail in Sweden where he is studying game design, Hill, 17, (17?!? Game design?!? Why is he being interviewed again? What makes him different than any other 17-year-old gamer with low self-esteem?) explained that his feelings of despair made him desperately want to escape reality.

"One can say my depression was twofold: I was depressed because I really wanted to live in Pandora, which seemed like such a perfect place, but I was also depressed and disgusted with the sight of our world, what we have done to Earth. I so much wanted to escape reality," Hill said. (It's called "marijuana". Try it)

Cameron's special effects masterpiece is very lifelike and the 3-D performance capture and CGI effects essentially allow the viewer to enter the alien world of Pandora for the movie's 2½-hour run-time, which only lends to the separation anxiety (THERE it is! We have a name for it! Time to start the treatments) some individuals experience when they depart the movie theater.

"Virtual life is not real life and it never will be, (whoa! baaack up! What?!) but this is the pinnacle of what we can build in a virtual presentation so far," said Dr. Stephan Quentzel, psychiatrist and Medical Director for the Louis Armstrong Center for Music and Medicine at Beth Israel Medical Center in New York. (This is the longest job title in American history, Jesus.) "It has taken the best of our technology to create this virtual world and real life will never be as utopian as it seems onscreen. It makes real life seem more imperfect." (Thank God, a doctor was available to dish that bit of info...Thanks, Doc!)

The bright side is that for Hill and others like him who became dissatisfied with their own lives and with our imperfect world after enjoying the fictional creation of James Cameron, becoming a part of a community of like-minded people (suicidal nerds) on an online forum has helped them emerge from the darkness.

"After discussing on the forums for a while now, my depression is beginning to fade away. Having taken a part in many discussions concerning all this has really, really helped me," Hill said. "Before, I had lost the reason to keep on living -- but now it feels like these feelings are gradually being replaced with others." (....anybody wanna switch seats?)

Quentzel said creating relationships with others is one of the keys to human happiness and that even if those connections are occurring online they are better than nothing. (wise doctor, indeed. It's like a correspondence course for human interaction!)

Within the fan community, suggestions for battling feelings of depression after seeing the movie include things like playing "Avatar" video games or downloading the movie soundtrack (gee, I wonder if any of the marketing reps wrote under a fake name and suggested they buy more shit? I think the best treatment for these depressed folks is to run out and buy more Avatar merchandise!) in addition to encouraging members to relate to other people outside the virtual realm and to seek out positive and constructive activities.. (that would require actual physical connections with other humans. Not gunna happen.)

Parrogance Strikes Again!

It’s a boy? Disappointment plagues some moms

LAS VEGAS - Katherine Asbery was so depressed that her third child was a boy, she wouldn't even say the sex. She called him "not a girl," and spent hours crying. (I'm gunna loooooove Kate Asbery, I can tell. Too bad I missed out on that 'catch')

She and her husband had even tried different techniques (sideways, from behind, on a suspension wire) that promised to yield a girl. "That dream of what you wanted is gone, and you have to learn to live with that," she said.

Good mothers are supposed to say they are happy with a boy or a girl, as long as the baby is healthy. But gender disappointment is a very real and heartbreaking issue that affects many pregnant women. (if you say so)

Christine Lich of Lindenhurst, Ill., always assumed she would have a girl. (what the fuck!?!? "Assumed" she'd have a girl?!? Jesus fucking Christ what PLANET do you live on!? It's like 'assuming' if you call 'heads' that you'll win the coin flip!) Instead, she got three boys. She wanted to appear to be the perfect mother, so she never let anyone except her husband know her disappointment. (thanks for letting me know that now, honey. nice timing.)

"And they tell you it's a boy, it's like, ahhhh. For that short moment, you're kind of bummed in the back of your mind. There's not going to be any pink dresses. There's not going to be any scrapbooking. That's not going to happen," she said. (Where. Do. I. Start? THIS is the reason you're bummed? Scrapbooking?!? Pink dresses?!? Why do terrorists hate us, again? Refresh my memory.)

Lich gets tired of people making comments such as: "Are you going to try for the girl?" or "You need to have the girl." (yes, those people are equally shoot-in-the-neck-worthy. I'll grant you that one)

Even now, four years after her third child, she can't bring herself to buy clothes for a little girl's birthday because she just can't look at the outfits. (Wow. I mean.......apoplectic is too soft of a word for me here....)

Joyce Venis, a psychiatric nurse in Princeton, N.J.p (epxert, indeed. What, an actual doctor wouldn't back this up?), who works with women suffering from gender disappointment, said it is not really discussed because other people would perceive the disappointment as being ungrateful. (uh, ya' think?!?) Venis said the problem mainly involves women who wanted a daughter.

Just because a woman has a gender preference does not mean she is a bad mother or that she doesn't want the child, Venis said. (if you say so)

"They have the right to want the certain sex," she said. (You watch, America....this will soon be considered a legit affliction by the medical community. Treatable with high-priced drugs, too. Guaranteed. Can't wait for the first lawsuit!!!)

Venis suggests women find out during the pregnancy what sex the baby is so they can deal with any disappointment before the birth. (GREAT suggestion, nurse!!! Then, they can spend nine months even MORE GODDAMNED EMOTIONALLY FUCKED UP!! BRILLIANT ADVICE ASSHAT!!) She said women should find someone to talk with, and if the woman is depressed, she should talk to a therapist. (a therapist suggesting someone talk to a therapist?!? The HELL you say!)

Asbery, the mom who tried with her husband to ensure that she'd have a girl, has a masters degree in clinical psychology, (who says an education is overrated?) and decided to write a book called "Altered Dreams: Living with Gender Disappointment" after sharing her story on mommy message boards. (log-in password: LookAtMEIAMaMOMMY)

She turned to her faith (the faith where you accept what God gives you? That one?) and drew strength from talking to others who felt the same way. She said it's important for people to understand that mothers suffering from gender disappointment want their children and are not bad moms. It's just the plan they had for their family has changed. (sorry. Not buying it. Want different kid than what you got = bad mommy. Done. Fuck you)

Her third son is 3 years old now (and, watches sports, no doubt!), and Asbery admits she still has some pangs of sadness. She sometimes looks at her son and wonders, just for a moment, what he would look like as a girl. (......................(sound of my head hitting wooden floor)....)) She and her husband are not going to have more children. Their family is complete, she said, and she doesn't feel like someone is missing anymore. (except when I PICTURE MY SON AS A CHICK!!!!!)

What she most wants mothers to know is this:

"It's normal. And they shouldn't feel like a freak," she said. "It is a normal process of when a dream has changed. You just have to relearn a different dream." (or, maybe, just maybe, change your dream in the first place?)

Jessica Has Nothing In Her Future Except...Everything

I hope you remembered to bring some hot cocoa tonight.

I have my pipe, my robe, my pretentious spectacles and I'm sitting in my gorgeous, high-backed, leather armchair. A fire blazes in my darkened den, creating a beautiful chiaroscuro against the cold, wintry night. Sit back, relax and settle in for another edition of:

The Incoherent Ramblings of Jessica Wakeman

You remember Jessica? Of course you do. She last lectured us that marrying for money is not only acceptable but almost noble. We here at the SNC all secretly dreamed of ditching our wives for such a siren.

Why do we love Jessica? Aside from her wildly prodigious and piquant writing ability? Well, she can take whatever singular experience her mid 20s brain processes and turn it into an overarching cultural meme. Throw in a dash of bullshit polemics, a pinch of contradiction, five gallons of really odd narcissism and poof! You have Jessica.

It's not all her fault. It's what people in their mid 20s do. They really do believe that every thought that flows through their neurotransmitters is entirely original and should be voiced...loudly. And nobody will be able to see through their steaming piles of crap.

So, in honor of the recently deceased William Safire and his Rules For Writers, we offer Jessica Wakeman's Rules For Relationship Bloggers Looking To Justify Their Own Selfish Impulses And Vindicate Their Lot In Life:

Rule #1 - Always reference yourself and your choices in life as yardsticks of inherent human truth even if they're unbelievably stupid or, worse, obvious.

Rule #2 - Always inject thinly veiled references to things that show the world how far you've come and how truly mature and wonderful you really are.

Rule #3 - If examples don't exist to back up your point, make shit up.

Rule #4 - The whole point of being a writer is to exact revenge on perceived slights in life so make sure you come out as the tragic hero in the end. How you get there is not relevant.

Let's get started.

CNN.com via TheFrisky.com

Blame my older sister, the kindergarten teacher, but I believe in the Golden Rule (Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner! That's officially the 100 billionth time in the history of man somebody referenced the Golden Rule in the first graf. Collect your prize at the front desk.). Whether you're my boss, my intern (WHOA! All her Facebook friends now know Jessica has an intern so we already have Rule #2, even if the intern is shared with the entire office. They don't know that. Bet that intern interview was a rigorous one for TheFrisky.com.), my boyfriend or my third-cousin-twice-removed, I will treat you with the same amount of respect as everyone else. (That's big of her.)

Why am I wired this way? Other kids were really cruel to me from grade school through high school -- whether putting Scotch tape in my hair during class, calling me "Cabbage Patch Kid" because of my chubby cheeks, or circulating my name on a list where girls were ranked by their hotness and I was rated 3 out of 10. (Classic triumph over tragedy. It's Horacio Alger in Schenectady. Stick Hillary Duff in it and the script writes itself!)

That stuff made me feel terrible most of the time and I don't want anyone knowing what that's like. Instead, I try to be kind to every person, regardless of how popular/attractive/smart they are, and not be a brownnoser, ever. (Who brownnoses their friends?)

It's striking to me, though, how not being a kiss-up has ruined my friendships with some very pretty women. In fact, my only friendship Titanics (Is that a metaphor?) have happened when I've stood up to extraordinarily beautiful women and lost out. "The Pretty Girl" wanted me to play by her rules; I didn't want to do it, so Pretty Girl read me the friendship riot act and ditched me. Forever. (Let's all buy Jessica a big, wooden cross so she can climb on up and nail herself to it.)

Let me be clear: I do have girlfriends (Glad that's cleared up). I'm not incapable of being friends with women. I have some really great female friends who are all regular-looking (sigh) like me. When we bicker, we get over it. But when a normal-looking woman like me (You said that! Cripes! You have an intern. Get an editor!) befriends someone who is model-pretty, there's trouble.

Let's face it (Let's!): Beauty is a privilege. It acts like a honing device (Eh...it's HOMING device. (slaps head)) for male attention, opens doors to clubs, causes compliments to rain upon the lucky ones. But if the parties aren't careful, a beautiful friend and a regular-looking friend can get locked into a power dynamic (Because "regular-looking" people like Jessica speak da truth and keeps it real while pretty people all be stick-up bitches.)

Of course, not every beautiful woman lords her privilege over her less beautiful friends. Still, some do. Beauty is a universally valued quality for a woman; it offers privileges that can always be relied on (You! Said! That!). The logic of one's arguments, or articulation of one's emotions, unfortunately, is less reliable. And because plenty of women and men want to be around attractive women (Boy, she hangs around a regular Algonquin Round Table, doesn't she?) just so those privileges can rub off of them (Who's them? And 'of'? Editor!), some beautiful women aren't used to hearing "no."

I truly think my friendship difficulties with pretty women stem from my challenging them with words or reasoning (Okay, Jessica's roommate just moved out on her last week and she was marginally pretty. She'll show her, damn it!), instead of just falling in line with the power dynamic they try to exert.

Jealous? No. I'm resentful (And jealous.). When it becomes clear to me that a beautiful friend of mine plays the "my way or the highway" card, I resent the fact that I'm being valued so little (Her roommate totally just bolted on her. Bet her boyfriend heard the story in 48 different forms over five straight nights.). Compromise and admitting you are wrong are friendship skills which date back to the sandbox days -- I don't care if you look like Megan Fox (Still don't get the Megan Fox fascination. Would somebody clue me in?).

Sasha modeled back in New York, where we went to school; she turned heads with her pretty blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and lovely smile (Keep in mind that Jessica's profile over at The Frisky says "straightish" under orientation. Context.). We met studying abroad in Prague ("Now my Facebook friends know about Prague!") together and lived in the same dormitory.

It became clear after a few weeks, though, that Sasha only wanted to do what she wanted to do and when she wanted to do it. She wouldn't go to a Czech restaurant or join me at a dance club just because I wanted her to -- she said "no" all the time (Maybe she didn't really like you and wanted to spare your feelings. Chalk one up for "Sasha". Or she was a roommate you occasionally drank with, not a "friend". There's a difference.). I hated that, of course, but I figured I had to suck it up because the other girls we hung out with parroted whatever Sasha did.

Then one day I was robbed; my passport and all my money was stolen. I told Sasha about it and it surprised me that she didn't offer to spot me even a little Czech currency to tide me over until an American Express wire came through from my dad (Bullshit Alert! That shit takes three hours at most. I did it in Florence ten years ago (look at me!). Couldn't wait three hours, huh?). Instead, Sasha was really quiet.

When I returned from the Czech embassy (Czech (?) embassy...in Prague? More doubts a creepin' in. When you're in a U.S. embassy, you remember the "U.S." part...because it says so in every way possible every four feet.) after replacing my passport, I saw Sasha by my bedroom. Out of left field, she confronted me and accused me of coveting her fiance because I'd once hooked up with a guy who had the same name as her fiance did (This is the part where Jessica conveys the idea that she doesn't really think she's "regular-looking". Here's a "beautiful", probably made-up person thinking that her beautiful, probably made-up fiance would sleep with Jessica. Since we know beautiful people never slum it with anyone below their own range of beauty, Jessica is slyly telling us that there's a chance, on a good day, that she's in the ballgame. See. Bullshit stories to back up an argument serves two purposes. She's so efficient.) . Lusting after a guy I'd never met back in New York? What?! No!

Minutes later, Sasha switched gears and lectured me for calling myself a vegetarian (That week. Vietnamese Buddhism was scheduled for the week after.) even though I eat fish. I defended myself against that accusation, too. After a lot of tsk-tsking and head-shaking on her part, she said she didn't want to be friends anymore and stalked out of my dorm room. OK, whatever kooky lady who kicks a friend when she's down (Feel sorry for yourself much.).

But then over the next few days, I realized the group of girls Sasha and I hung out with (Well, hung out with "Sasha" but you were always there in this version of the fantasy.) were avoiding me completely, but still hanging out with her. What bitches!

Years later, I butted heads again with a roommate (I sense a pattern and it's not the one Jessica is talking about.), Elizabeth, who worked as a professional model and actress (Jessica really can't stop attracting beautiful models. It's a curse, really.). She was tall, slim and elegant, with dark hair, dark eyes and an absolutely breathtaking face. Elizabeth, too, insisted she was right about everything, whether it was whether men should pay on dates or the best way to scour a bathtub (JHC! This crap isn't even worthy of a teenage diary!).

When I disagreed with Elizabeth (Yes. Jessica got into a fight...over cleaning a tub. Line starts at my butt, guys.), she would, without fail, say something in a condescending voice about how I didn't understand XYZ, but she did because she claimed to have had more experience with whatever it was. That kind of "logic" is hard to argue with. Eventually, we had a friendship/happy roommates blowup when I told her that her friend who insisted that he knew how to fix our broken Internet connection was actually making it worse ($20 the guy was right. Ba-Zing!).

I could go on with other examples of disagreements with attractive women (But I can't think of anymore bogus stories...) where I ended up getting ditched, but I think you get the point. It's their loss, I think, because they could have had a friend who stood up to them. That's an asset, ladies (The world IS better with Jessica in it.).

But it's my loss for being so stubborn about arguments that I lose friendships over them. I'm just unwilling to be a butt-kisser. I really, really can't do it.

To be, or not to be: that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles...

See. Tragic hero. Like all great writers, she follows her own rules.

Couldn't Resist

A small little blurb from David. I'm sensing a repeat for Fuckstick of the Year:

I've also changed the pic to one that truly symbolizes his full douchbaggery...Asshead weave necklace and all.



By David Wygant

One of the funniest things about Los Angeles is that you always feel like you are on a movie set. Here is a perfect example. (That IS funny)
The other night we went out to dinner, and sitting right behind us were Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson. (Here it comes….Wait for it.....) I was actually looking directly at Tom Hanks and had no clue that it was him, (There it is! David so isn’t into that—far too cool) until Sonja said to me “Did you see Tom Hanks sitting behind us?”
I am clueless when it comes to celebrities.(It Ain't just that, Asshole) I could be staring directly at a celebrity and would have no idea. That just shows you how much I don’t care about any of this! To me, people are just people. (Oh, wow. He’s so normal.)
Anyway, it’s Monday. Welcome to a new week and something with which I want to kick start it . . . (What theFUCK did the Tom Hanks shit have to do with any of this?!)
There is something that all of you need to do this week. You need to break up with some of your friends. (Oh, this is good. I have to take a moment here to confess something—when I do David’s SNC entries I don’t research in any way. I just randomly pick an entry and go with it.)
There are friends of yours who just really no longer suit your lifestyle. They could be friends with whom you just don’t have anything in common anymore. (So get rid of them. They had kids? Fuck ‘em. Crampin my style. David, most guys over 23 don’t go to Whole Foods and stalk women)
Think about why you’re still friends with some of your friends. Perhaps you shared your gum with them in the fifth grade and then got drunk together for the first time in the eighth grade, so you feel like there is a reason you should still be friends with them. (Shared gum?)
If they’re holding you back, though, you need to start breaking up with them. (We get it. Jesus.) You want to spend your time with people who don’t hold you back in life. (Yeah, man. Get out of my life. Why? You’re boring.) You want to be with people who actually share the same goals that you have. You want to be around people who want to move forward in life. (Paid by the word.)
So you need to go to take a good look at your phone, and you need to eliminate the numbers of people with whom you no longer connect. (I call my grandma about once every three weeks. She’s out.) You don’t have to physically break up with them. Don’t call them up or send them a letter. (Send them a letter? To tell them you're ending your friendship? Please tell me you’re joking. Please)
In your own head (and phone), you just need to start breaking up with the people who no longer fit your lifestyle. Life is about change. (Holy shit. WE GET IT!!!! Repeat yourself one more time, assbag and I’m flying out to Malibu or Santa Barbara or god knows whatever trendy bullshit town you live in and kicking you in the scrotum. And by scrotum I mean your face.)
Many of you out there get stuck in “stagnant world.” I have met people who will actually tell me, “I have all the friends I need.” If you have all the friends you’ll ever need, then you are not growing as a person. (Just go stalk them at Whole Foods)
I like to open my life to new friends every single day. If I can meet new friends, it means that I’m growing and learning new things. If you stick to a routine, you’ll never grow (Again, you just said this.)