Friday, September 22, 2017

Are Males Verbally Disposed Towards Anti-materialism?

In general, it's generally accepted that men use more profanity than do women. Especially the so-called F-word and some of the others.

Moreover, there is their curious use of the word shit in a context unrelated to fecal matter, as in these contexts:

"I need to get my shit together and move in the dorm tomorrow."

"Brenda kicked me out of the apartment and threw all my shit in the apartment pool." Describing the denouement of a domestic disagreement between roommates.

In other words, these guys verbally equate their possessions with fecal waste.

Now this is not an individual linguistic quirk; but one that many guys use. Contrariwise, I have never encountered a girl or women use the word shit in that context. Try this on:

"I need to move my shit into the sorority house this weekend." Huh?

Is this a sign that men are less comfortable with the fact that they have possessions, or are they positively burdened with the fact of their presence?

Let's face it: most guys are not into extensive care of clothing, ironing, and the like. And many of their things require maintenance. 

Is that why they refer to their 'stuff' as their 'shit"? Is it out of peevishness?

Well, I am out on a limb with this one. Obviously, in addition to the possible sex difference is this vocabulary term, are their regional or age-graded differences as well? My experience is largely based on Southerners of the same approximate age as myself. Do Yankee guys refer to their possessions as shit? 

Thursday, September 21, 2017

More About "Le Boudin"

Yesterday, I posted about a Boudin Festival in Cajun country.

Boudin is a blood sausage commonly found in France and in Cajun country.*

Le Boudin is also the official marching song of the Foreign Legion. Here is the lyrics:

Here you are, some blood sausage, some blood sausage, some blood sausage
For the Alsatians, the Swiss, and the Lorraines,
For the Belgians, there's none left,
For the Belgians, there's none left,
They're lazy shirkers.
For the Belgians, there's none left,
For the Belgians, there's none left,
They're shooters from the ass [lazy shirkers].
1st verse:
We are crafty.
We are rogues.
We are no ordinary guys.
We've often got our black moods,
For we are Legionnaires.
In Tonkin, the Immortal Legion
Honored our flag at Tuyen Quang.
Heroes of Cameroon and exemplary brothers
Sleep in peace in your tombs.
(Repeat Chorus)
2nd verse:
Our ancestors knew how to die
For the glory of the Legion.
We will know how to perish
According to the tradition.
During our far-off campaigns,
Facing fever and fire,
Let us forget, along with our hardships,
Death, which forgets us so little.
(For) we are the Legion.

*I recommend using andouille instead.

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Everett, Washington Bans Bikini Baristas

Well, I just learned about another modern-day Land of the Uptight Prudes, I was surprised at where this place was located -- not Utah or Boston, but Washington State. Specifically, Everett, Washington's City Council recently passed an ordinance banning baristas from wearing bikinis. Or, as someone sniffed, "half-naked women."

As an occasional bikini-wearer at the shore and someone who thinks wearing one in public is not offensive to public morals, I find this dismaying. It clearly seems like an uncalled-for limitation on the freedom of expression. Hey, they have bikini baristas in Alabama!

But I wonder about this prudishness from this unexplained source. Have the Trumpies won? Are we in for a actualization of The Handmaiden's Tale? What other limitations can we anticipate with dread? How about a Pasty Patrol? 

The city actually came up with an example of what baristas could wear to be compliant with the dress code:

Sleveless shirts? Thought up by someone with tacky tastes, no doubt!

Seriously, this sort of blue law is excessively intrusive, and sucks out some enjoyment of life. I don't know what the total moral climate is there; but I feel that I might be the quintessential outsider.

Here's a bikini barista showing her dubious fandom:

Here's a little story about Angel (moi!)

Years ago, I worked for a while as a barista, a purveyor of licit addictive caffeinated substances. Several of us tried a few ways to prompt people to leave a gratuity in the tip jar. We found that the best way was to use one of our bras; with each of us in rotation offering one of ours as the tip receptacle! As I had body issues at the time, I was pleased that mine when it was the bra of the day got a gratifying amount of tips.

Monday, September 18, 2017

Voting Fraud in the Election for Boudin Queen

In the Bayou Teche area, it's said that the players will bet on anything; even high school sports and which duck will first take off from the water. And players of Louisiana politics is not above playing by Chicago rules either! Even to the extent of bringing in outsiders to sweeten the deal. Now that's called Plaquemines Parish Rule: as many as you can import gets to vote!

However, this mania for gambling reached epic proportions when Badeaux's Bar and Recreation Center started offering a morning line on which young miss would win the title of Boudin Queen at the annual Boudin Festival. To be sure, this was a highly coveted title in Grand Teche, even exceeding Homecoming Queen at Grand Teche High School!

Now some of the same strategies that might be employed in beauty pageants, special hair tints, well-fitting dresses, bra inserts, heels, and other ways of enhancing the appeal of the various contestants. But since betting on the outcome and money changing hands was part of the process, some nefarious bettors tried stuffing the ballot box. Hence my comment about Plaquemines Parish rules.

The problem one years was that the competition for Boudin Queen was especially keen one year Tee Tina, Clotilde, Tee Suzette, Tee Marie, Marguerite, and others promised more viable choices and there was unusual interest in the process. Some of this was due to some long-term rivalries among the contestants; and some was due to a lot of Texas money being bet on the contestants.

Now the esteemed position of Boudin Queen was done ostensibly democratically: one person, one vote. But the ballot boxes were stuffed! 

Or so the story went.

Part of it was also that Tee Tina's maman insisted that she wore her bra: "No, you are not to appear like that in front of the whole Parish including old Father Broussard!" And another part was that Tee Suzette kissed her way into getting some votes. These ploys split the local vote, so to speak.

Anyway, Barbara Jean, a fille recently moved in from Texas, won the title. The story came out about the voting irregularities and no one was especially fooled. No, Barbara Jean's campaign manager paid busloads of local bar patrons a beer apiece if they voted for Barbara Jean. Some greedy so-and-sos voted three or four times, getting a beer each time. 

The crowd was unusually rowdy that evening in Grand Teche's Fair around the time the Boudin Queen's vote was announced! How much was due to beer bribes; and how much was utter surprise, one can only guess.

Friday, September 15, 2017

An Outré Dinner Date

Angela liked Mark a lot; and when he asked her out to dinner, she was overjoyed. Mark was, to her, the beau ideal of her class, who seemingly had smarts, polish, and connections.

Until she found out where he was taking her: The Pussycat's Den, a new, locally-owned breastaurant in town!

She demurred half-heartedly; but decided that this was a new kind of camp experience. And something in her wondered what it was like.

Well, there were the well-bosomed waitresses. Deliberately selected on the basis of breast size and willingness to display them. And the atmosphere was slightly frat house modern.

And, to cap it all off, Mark and Angela joined five other guys for a drinking and bull session! In all, it was an odd sex ratio; and Angela wondered what the ramifications of that were.

Then she got the message: Mark thought of her as a friend who happened to be a girl, not a girlfriend! And he wanted her to meet his other buds. Maybe she could fit in with this high testosterone group. But Angela didn't think she had some of the subtle symptoms in women. (Women produce small quantities of testosterone in the adrenal glands and in the ovaries.) 

Needless to say, Angela was hurt and disappointed by her being relegated to the dreaded friend zone. However, the story did have a surprise twist: she eventually married one of the guys that she met that night at the Pussycat's Den, and Mark was in the bridal party as the Best Man (or Best Dude)!

Sometimes friends help out in unusual ways. And being in the Friend Zone ain't too bad.

A Pussycat Girl in Her Outfit.

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Does the Senate Now Require a Religious Test for the Judiciary?

Amendment I
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.
---The Constitution of the United States
Okay, this is serious; a departure from the usual levity I try to maintain in these pages.
Recently, the nominee for the 7th Court of Appeals, Amy Coney Barrett, was undergoing the usual screening by members of the Senate regarding her suitability for the Federal bench when Sens. Dick Durbin and Dianne Feinstein asked how her being Catholic might affect her serving as a Federal judge.
In my opinion, these sorts of questions are highly inappropriate:
"Do you consider yourself an 'orthodox Catholic?" - Durbin

[And do you consider yourself a warranted, genuine Dick, Senator?]
And Dianne Feinstein implied that actual belief in the doctrines of one's faith are grounds for disqualification from public service. Yeah, I know; she's concerned that the nominee might be anti-abortion. The horror! The horror! 
Holy cow, people! We need an attitude check!

Or we're going to see questions like, "Do you consider yourself an 'orthodox Muslim" someday, or even "Do you practice what you preach?" Or try this on for size: "Are you, are have you ever been, a member of the ________ Church?"

I think the two poor, misguided Senators should write the First Amendment 100 times; and think of other ways to disqualify nominees that are still within the guidelines of the Constitution since that was likely their intention.

And Congress needs to get up front and list which churches are established, and which are not. Do Quakers pass? How about Seventh Day Adventists? To be right with the good senators, do I have to become a Holy Roller? Or a snake handler? Or a high church Episcopalian? Prithee, let us have guidance!

Disclosure: I am a Catholic, and I was not amused with the Senators' line of questioning.

Comment: I plan to confine posting on serious, controversial topics to Wednesday, if that's okay with everybody. So if you want Angel Light, there's still the rest of the week. One day a week being serious is heavy lifting for a blonde. 

Monday, September 11, 2017

More Street Signs

If it's taxes, it's everybody else's too:

Some might feel inadequate:

Not a place in which to go swimming:

Sad state of affairs:

Oh my God!

Some advice should be followed:

Friendship has its limits:

Canadian native or very hirsute:

Unfortunately named street:

For God's sake, use a tissue:

The Mooch or Johnny Knoxville:

For drunken guys singing Karaoke:


Mixed message:

Fraternity Row: 

Named after the horse:

A chef named Richard with a prosthetic:

A heinous slander:

A road that leads somewhere:

In Fairplay, Colorado:

Better than a Dutch rub:

Fixation on street names:

A street with some kinks in it: