A n a r c h i c _ U n i v e r s e ®

California Kamasutra: Ask Tina

I love challenges. Linguistic challenges such as one letter L in American language and double L in U.K. English. Or, "when do I double the consonant preceding the -ed ending of a verb?"

Today, I take upon the unusual challenge of going through a series of commonly known but rarely practiced sexual positions. No photos or pictures. Just words in a Q & A format. Having lived in California gave me all this  wisdom.

--Tina, what is a missionary position?

--A missionary position is that one in which a man/woman puts himself/herself on his knees while offering a 10 K piece of jewelry to his/her significant other. The offering had better come in the colorful acqua bag from Tiffany, or else.

--Tina, what is the position "I go on top?"

--This is a very intriguing question. If a woman rides on top that means she is quite busy on the phone, at the beauty salon, shopping on Rodeo Drive, chatting with friends on line or at a café while the significant other is slaving his life away at some stupid cheap corporation, such as GE or our government's NSA.

If it's a man on top, that means he "works on-line" all day long, surfs the Net, has a ton of virtual friends and excuses for taking calls from total strangers (to his significant other) and takes a siesta from all this hard work while the partner works in and outside the house, supporting the leech.

--Tina, what is a sideways position ?

--Ah, ha! Wonders never cease. In the days baby-boomers were younger, this position meant the opposite of its meaning today to both boomers and surviving parents. Sideways means the couple sleeps with ear-plugs on, their derrières barely touching while they snore their night away.

--Tina, what does a 69 mean?

--How fascinating! I got this question in my mail box just yesterday. A 69, or a soixante-neuf, or billandmonica, isn't what people talk about or imagine. For one partner, it's the ingestion of proteins; for the other, a jetstream release of unnecessary stress. Some partners like to yell, "Flegma, shmegma!" And those do not ingest the liquid proteins.

--Tina, what is phone sex?

--Phone sex is a practice among boys and girls of all ages. If they don't have friends, they just pick United or any big company and pretend a business interest. Depending on their luck, they will achieve their goals. In United's case, remember to say loud and clear, "Agent!" if you get the robot. Maybe you are into cybersex, but robots are still not fully ready, linguistically speaking. Also keep in mind United's hubs are Chicago, Denver, Miami... Chicago is a great phone hub.

And that's all, folks! More soon, insatiable guys and gals?

Tina California Dreamin' Easter  1971 courtesy William Salvador©

Post Republished from 9/2006 Anarchic_Universe®.

 

Series: Never Throw Away Your Spam

I received this SPAM from my son. Even if I don't drive, I thought you'd like it.

SENIOR DRIVER BY GRANDMA

The other day I went up to a local Christian bookstore and saw a 'Honk if you love Jesus' bumper sticker.

I was feeling particularly sassy that day, because I had just come from a thrilling choir practice followed by a powerful prayer meeting, so I bought the sticker and put it on my bumper.
I was stopped at a red light at a busy intersection just lost in thought about the Lord and how good He is, and I didn't notice that the light had changed.
It is a good thing someone else loves Jesus; because if he hadn't honked, I'd never have noticed.

I found that LOTS of people love Jesus. Why, while I was sitting there, the nice man behind started honking like crazy, and he leaned out of his window and screamed, 'for the love of God, GO! GO!' What an exuberant cheerleader he was for the Lord.

Everyone started honking! I just leaned out of my window and started waving and smiling at all these loving people.

I even honked my horn a few times to share in the love. There must have been a man from Florida back there, because I heard him yelling something about a sunny beach. I saw another man waving in a funny way with only his middle finger stuck up in the air. When I asked my teenage grandson in the back seat what that meant, he said that it was an Hawaiian good luck sign or something!

Well, I've never met anyone from Hawaii , so I leaned out the window and gave him the good luck sign back.

My grandson burst out laughing; why even he was enjoying this religious experience.

A couple of the people were so caught up in the joy of the moment that they got out of their cars and started walking towards me.
I bet they wanted to pray or ask what church I attended, but this is when I noticed the light had changed. So I waved to all my sisters and brothers, smiled at them all, and drove on through the intersection.
I noticed I was the only car that got through the intersection before the light changed again, and I felt kind of sad that I had to leave them after all the love we had shared, so I slowed the car down, leaned out of the window, and gave them all the Hawaiian good luck sign one last time as I drove away.
Praise the Lord for such wonderful folks!

Share Grandma's letter with your friends.
I just did.

Strange Night in the Rio Rain

I can't recall how it all started. I know it was in the days we were mostly single or divorced or whatever else. My little circle of old time friends consisted of engineers, except for a poet and translator and I, a teacher of English as a Foreign Language. Like most Cariocas we went into and out of trends. The trend at the time was very refined cachaça, sugarcane alcohol. Out of the blue we had become connoisseurs, seeking the next best cachaça.
So it happened that one night we got a call about a primo one. That was the good news. The bad news was the cachaça was with friends at the other side of town. Rubinho decided he'd go pick it up. I tagged along for the car ride.
We got to our destination, small talk exchanged, we decided to leave. On our way back, the silence in the car was nearly surreal. Rubinho wasn't one of too many words, I knew that. I am chatty but knew not what to say. Pretty soon we'd have to cross Praça da Bandeira, an area with negative altitude. The rain was pouring now. We were crossing a lake, really.

Rubinho breaks the silence with a thought that he must have been mulling in his head for quite a while. He turns to me, quite assertive, and states,

--You know, I've never had an American butthole in my whole life.

I froze. Rubinho, despite the --inho, was about 6' 4". Easy. His *** couldn't be the type Greek or Roman sculptures show in gardens. I didn't think so. Rather, I didn't want to think about it at all. My mother had always told me about how horrible their thing was when they wanted us. I found a way out. Quickly, I pointed out to him,

-- Rubinho, watch out for the hole in the road! --

That should be better than my hole, I was sure.

You know how drunks are. He averted his attention from my hole to the one in the road. Before we knew it, we were crossing the tunnel to the south side of Rio. Before we could realize it, we were at my door. I pretended nothing had happened and asked him in. By then, the booze, the excitement, the fatigue had gotten to him. I kissed him on both cheeks and he left.
At home, I undressed, prepared myself a Bloody Mary, put Lou Reed to play, lit a cigarette. Slowly, I felt sleepy, put out the cigarette and got mentally ready for the morning, when students might ask me for the words of the song I was listening to. I'd be ready.

Never Hum a Tune in a Taxicar in Rio

In my carefree early to mid-eighties, at the height of the so-called "dark" fashion in Rio de Janeiro, when I listened to Joy Division, New Order,
Killing Joke, The Alarm and in especial The Smiths, the big time American to make it in my Sony Walkman® was Bruce Springsteen.  I fell in love with his double LP and a friend gave me a cassette of the album. Oh, there was the early Jonathan Ritchman and there was Laurie Anderson, and the
Talking Heads . My friend in NYC gave me tapes of these.

I like to sing or hum songs albeit my voice gets out of tune at the third note, says Gabriel. Nicolas, my husband, can recognize what I sing, though.

(background info)I was a heavy smoker; I got away with smoking in class while I was teaching. My outfits was overalls, a T-shirt, my SonyWalkman®, my backpack, an acquired tem of practical fashion I picked up in NYC, and my Adidas shoes, royal blue with orange stripes. At night I used to hang out at a gay bar which served a delish tomato soup and drink Bloody Mary, Cochrane's. No wonder nobody ever made a pass at me ;P))

Rio de Janeiro is subject to unexpected tropical rain. This night was no different. A heavy rain fell, everybody was gone in a flash. I walked to the corner of an already deserted Botafogo neighborhood to hail a cab. To my surprise, a cab stops. The guy looked ug-leeee, scar-eee, but what the heck. A cab is a cab is a cab.

I hopped in a VW Beetle without a front seat, the cabbie asked me my destination, I gave it to him. There I am humming a song in Portuguese whose lyrics go,

"Stay with me tonight, you won't regret it, the wind outside is whipping cold, here warmth you will have."  (Where did I get this song from?)

He goes in the opposite direction. Well, I thought, a little dazed by the vodka, maybe he wants to try another route. When we are in the street of the cemetery São João Batista, he stops the car. A conversation ensues. He demands,

"Suck my c***."
"????? No, I won't"
"Suck my c***."

This went on, the pouring rain outside getting no thinner. The dialog was as repetitive as those routines in "Waiting for Godot."  Suddenly, he inquires, in a total off-topic,

"Can I take a piss?"
"As long as it's not in the car..."

My remark was nonchalant. I just sat there in the warmth of the car. He returns, says as he grabs one of my thighs wrapped under a semi-sheer white pantyhose,

"I always liked chunky white girls like you."

(Gee, thanks for the chunky. Good for me to be wearing a long sweatshirt that was supposedly a dress.) 
He adds,

"I got a Saturday Night Special in the glove compartment."

He opens it and shows me the cheap metal gun.

"Where are you going now?"

I request,

"Laranjeiras."

The SOB charges me full fare, and I let him keep the change.

Morning after it was English classes starting at seven. A double glass of cold coffee and cold milk, another cab, another day in the Cidade Maravilhosa, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

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Saint Patrick's Day

©All rights reserved, Tina Oiticica Harris, 2008
We have had our lean corn beef, rye bread, light mayo, mustard, salad and tomatoes, and diet Coca-Cola© for drinks, except my husband, who drinks water. Tomorrow he works while our son, the "shamrock of our eyes" is on spring break.

I'm slowly but surely going back to the pre-spinal tap phase; meaning I can't really move around. It's a bit frustrating every time I think, "Well, I am going to the big living room," and remember I depend on the kindness of my family to get moving.

I'll be back tomorrow, I hope in full Hillary-swing, as usual. Click here to watch the unarguably most successful Irish band in recent history. Below, tea roses and double gardenias.©All rights reserved, Tina Oiticica Harris, 2008

The Only One - He Can Win It All - Will Farrell

According to the front page of today's Los Angeles Times, Senator McCain, who was part of the Charles Keating Savings and Loans scandal, as one of the Keating Five, has more skeletons in his closet. Click here.

The LATimes says McCain would beat Senator Barack Obama by two points.
Senator Obama is indeed a miracle maker. Even the GOP wants him, and it seems his color of skin has healed all of our previous history of racism. In addition, his campaign has sooo much money, it's hard to believe it comes from those 20-25  dollar contributions  he talks about.  Not to mention how rabid fanatics his followers are. BTW, the "Obama Girl" is a fake. BTW, amazingly, my link to the Huff Puff, one of today's del.icio.us is still up and it's a must-see.

Then there's poor Hillary, who's hammered if she's a bitch and hammered when she complains. There is no way the media will ever like her. Actually, I saw the producer of SNL on CBS this morning saying there was nothing wrong with SNL last Saturday, when Tina Fey "campaigned" for Hillary and uttered "profanities," according to others. I was thrilled. Still on the Huff Puff link, click, please, and scroll down, there is a link to a huge bulletin board reacting to Feb. 24 SNL.

However, the one unanimous winner from here to the New York Island is Will Ferrell. Yeah! The Bush for SNL in 2000.  HIs R-rated "Semi-Pro" toilet humor movie is coming up for the delight of the male millennium creatures, thirsty for toilet humor. Along with the movie, comes an attempt for revival of Old Spice, Daddy and his generation's  favorite scent.

So, forget about it, Nader, it's never too late to concede, our new president will be Will Farrell. Will Farrell for president!  He will not misunderestimate Hillary, for one. Good day, folks, we have two new posts today, plus our anarchic_universe del.icio.us links, on calories, download of MP3s, Huff Puff and a lot more! And a show I missed, in 1985, at the Los Angeles Colosseum, Bruce sings Woody Guthrie's "This Land Is Your Land." BTW,  if it helps, you, I will donate back my five dollars I have made so far back to Google. I know, that's only one drop of one share, but  that's all I have in my lockbox.

Still on Fidel Castro

I received a joke on Fidel Castro as a comment on my post, in which I had posted a chestnut; however, the jokes on Fidel on TV have been so lame, I thought, "Why not?"

The chestnut goes like this. Fidel Castro calls for a big rally. He's going to make a few announcements to his people. They come to the rally in droves. He starts,
People of my country! I have some words of news for you. The first one is good, the second one is bad.
Dead silence. Not a good sign for the Cuban people.
People of my country! The first news is...You shall eat sh*t.
And that was the good news. The Cubans looks puzzled. What could the bad news be?
People of my land! There's not enough sh*t for all.


This joke was in vogue in the 60s, when Daddy worked for USAID.  The one I got today, from w1zard, of w1zard.com went like this. See below.

José is home with his mama and asks her, "Mámi, can't we have the parrot with  some potatoes?" Mámi tells him there are no potatoes. "Mámi, how about if we just fried the parrot in the frying pan?" Mámi tells him they have no oil. José is really hungry and asks her, "How about if we put the parrot in the oven, Mámi?" The poor mother is nearly in tears as she lets her son know they have no gas, either.
The parrot, however, waves a banner and yells, "¡Viva Fidel! ¡Viva Fidel! ¡Viva Fidel!"

I'll Be Back Tomorrow, Pinky Promise

What can a woman do when her males are in the house? Sit on the couch with them and watch flicks.

My husband gets neurotically jealous of Internet activities of mine while he's home. My son needed me for an English project on figures of speech.

Now is time for cheapo Chinese made for American palate delivery. And another flick.

No school tomorrow. Yey! That reminds me of an old favorite of mine. Let's see if I find it. I can't believe it's already of driving age in California. With you a great video of "School" from Reading Festival, in England.

Choose life.

Digging anarchic_universe del.icio.us links

Dahlings, I am exhausted. It is my purpose to offer you a varied perspective on education, politics, entertainment and whatever turns you on. It takes a long time to go here and there, read and say to yourself, yes, this is okay, or this is crap.

I confess the political scene has been an overdose. I have very low tolerance for people who start extolling the virtues of Barack Obama, especially johnnie-come-lately bloggers in Brazil, where blacks are still uneducated and poh. Most Brazilians would be black here, but have money there; therefore, they are white.

Okay, I could say No Child Left Behind is the main reason education is in such a mess. Just check Dr. Krashen's site on my list of favorite readings. Truthfully, SMMUSD was always cheap and biased.

What I have to say about SMMUSD and its repeated requests for money is SAY NO on PROP R.

Tomorrow you'll see a variety of links I got for you. Tonight I mmust say I am ready for organic macaroni and cheese and grassfed beef. Whatever veggie suits me fine. The boys are in the kitchen while I wrap it here.

I'll leave you with a photo of a plumbago(say what?) It's the flower  the hummingbirds love the most. Did I tell you I got an empty hummingbird nest? It's the cutest thing and it tells us spring is around the corner. Sorry, Seth A. for all the cold weather in Chicago.

See you tomorrow, with more delicious links, right below my mini-rant.

I Know What You Did Last Night - Apple, Inc.

After blogging all day, and I have to write slowly so I avoid typos, I fell asleep from seven to nine. When I get up, guess what my husband and teen son had been doing? No wonder the journalist in the Los Angeles Times called Apple users "Followers." That's right. That is a link in today's del.icio.us. links below.

While I was sleeping the boys were watching Steve Jobs annual presentation at the annual Apple convention. You'll ask what I did. I watched it, too, and scolded them to go to bed, both. I had no patience, however, to watch Steve Jobs after Number 3, whatever that was. The thin Air computer is awesome, the renting of films will be the last blow on neighborhood cinemas, coupled with Apple TV 2. I pooh-pooh iPods because I don't need them. The rest, iPhone, all power to Apple, seems to have gone beyond my tech sophistication or needs.

The best news was Apple's alliance with Google. Only Google can make Apple computers more palatable to the rest of the world. I was really happy to hear about their small alliance for now in the iPhone.

I went to read on Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak. I highly recommend you read these entries on wikipedia.

You may ask if I am part of the flock of the Apple faithful? Yes, I am, but a little tired of Steve's presentations and repeated "Kewl, really kewl. Innit?" He's really thin, I guess on purpose, and looks older than he should. It must be the pressure, self-imposed and imposed on others. I kinda feel sorry for him. There is no use for millions when you are stressed and unhappy even remarried to a much younger wife.

So that was what we were doing last night. Now it's breakfast and newspaper. I tried to get info from CNN last night on Hill, Bill and Obama to no avail. Oh, well, enjoy our del.icio.us links, whose comments are open. I'll be back shortly after my long breakkfast break. I have been working since six-thirty and now must eat. Oh, the comments on our anarchic_universe links are open. Go ahead and make my day. Good line for a cop movie.
See ya!