This is an archive blog for now...

It seems I just can't live up to the very cool title. No Bill Gaines am I. All of my new posts (starting with today's) will be at http://love-suki.blogspot.com/

Finally: The Answer to: Do I look fat?

"Do I look fat?" she asks in that tone. You know you are in dangerous territory.

Step 1.
Turn down the TV, music, or glance up from your newspaper--but don't turn your attention to her completely. She obviously needs your attention, but ninty percent of the time, this is poor but forgivable behavior (on the same level as you yelling at her because your boss yelled at you) and you don't want to encourage it.

Step 2.
Say, "Are you alright, honey/pumpkin/boopsie? You sound unhappy."

Response A. Now, you will probably get some kind of rant or whine about that she doesn't look like Britney Spears anymore, or whatever. But you successfully deflected. Now just blanket reassure.

Response B.
"I don't know what you're talking about! How do I look?"

Step 3.
Don't lie. Here is your vocab. to answer this question:
Beautiful/Gorgeous or
Great/Pretty or
Good or
Fine.

Where is bad, you ask? Frumpy? Satanic? Creepy? Wide as a VW Beetle?
Fine. Fine means bad, or worse. There is nothing worse than fine. Now, sometimes "Fine" doesn't matter: if she's just walking the dog, who cares? There's no paparazzi. But when fine matters, use "fine, but..." as in, "Fine, but that green ball gown really shows off your figure when you walk the dog." Like that. "Fine, but you look so good in black."

Now that you've conquered that question, try your hand at: "What do you think about threesomes?"

Death and Comics

I have been saddened to learn of late that my mentor in the comic book biz ended up kicked out of the comic book business completely, and is now mooching off long lost relatives in Mormonville. It's sad, because he's brilliant and rebellious and kind. I just wish I could tell him (as if he would listen to me) to quit being hard on himself.

The American comic book business has long been dying--the Japanese do it better, the movies do it better, tv does it better. Ask any editor, and they will tell you the same thing. And look who is successful in the industry. I don't want to name names, but all of the survivors keep their poison-fang filled heads down and start printing the same cycle of shit every four years. The innovators all work the graveyard shifts at video stores, and suffer, suffer, suffer.

Mr. Lizard, be happy with what you had, get someone to doctor you an IT resume, and come back to the east coast. Please.

OK, correction: very, very few people would call Mr. Lizard kind. But never a backstabber, and he was more often kind to me than not.

Vaporized

Okay. I'm all done with fatness and top ten lists. Both are old. I now grudgingly admit I love the attention I get from being sexy, (though that guy who honks at me and waves me over every morning while I wait for the bus makes me feel harassed) and my guy has a slim body that completely vaporizes me every time I see him. I mean, I can't make top ten lists about Drongo, because there are too many things to write about: I would bore everyone with "Top Ten Things I Love about Drongo's Nose." It would be stupid.

Top Ten Reasons to Say Yes to a Fat Man

Now, I am not talking about guys with beer guts. I am talking about large men who love food. Sure, slim looks great in bed(...grrrrr...Drongo), and the other positives are obvious, but I have gone out with several large men, and I highly recommend them:

10. Need a midnight snack? No farther than his kitchen.
9. When you say, "I need chocolate," he understands.
8. He always orders dessert.
7. He won't make you exercise.
6. He makes wine sauces, 5-cheese omelets, without batting an eye.
5. You'll still feel small standing next to him.
4. Did you know these guys can dance?
3. Intense cuddling. Serious.
2. Tall men, long cock/Fat men, fat ...
1. Fat men know how to eat a girl out. Like it's their last meal or something.

Lots of Work today...so here's a story from my guy.

My Crop Circle.
“Signs,” a movie with that Mel Gibson fellow about crop circles, starts this weekend. In1992, I built my own crop circle. I was living on anacre in East Hampton, and cut the grass weekly with ariding mower. That was fun. It took about an hour andhalf to do the acre, and I used the interim as“thinking time”—there wasn’t much else to do. One timeI was thinking about the slew of crop circles thatwere appearing in U.K. farm fields that summer, and I thought, I’m gonna make my own. I went to the far backcorner of the lot, which was sort of shielded by agrove of trees—I had let this small portion of grass“go to meadow.” I drove into the middle of thisunmowed patch (with blade disengaged, natch), andproceeded to circle outward from the center, cuttingthe tall grass down to size. Soon, I had a circle thatwas about 20 feet in diameter. I had made a cropcircle.I loved my crop circle, but it was kindanondescript—it was nothing like the beautiful designsin the English countryside. So, I decided to make TheOne Stone Henge. I found a rock in the stone wall thatwas about the size and shape of a toilet seat cover,similar to the “heel stone” at Stonehenge. I made asmall trench in the center of the circle and plantedthe rock in it. Presto! Instant pagan worship site. Iwould go out at night and dance around the stone nakedunder the moonlight (NOT!).I cared for the circle all summer, carefully enteringinto it with blade up so as to keep a buffer of tallgrass around it. Apparently the neighbors took noticeof the construction, and being the big Christians thatthey were, suspiciously asked my wife at the time whatthe circle “was used for.” She told them I was an“artist” (I’m not) and that the circle was an“installation”. Ha. Good answer.Toward the end of August, we went away for theweekend, and my brother-in-law stayed at the housewhile we were away. Imagine my dismay upon our returnthat he had cut the grass. The dumbbell mowed everyinch of the yard—including the buffer surrounding thecrop circle. I think he did it at the urging of mymother-in-law, another fanatical Christian. I wantedto murderlize him. Shoot, I never even took a photo ofthe thing. As far as the “real” circles go, I believethat they are all man-made and “aliens” and “universalnature energy” have nothing to do with them. Some ofthem are really quite beautiful, and I admire thosehoaxsters and artists who make them.

Top Ten Things I Miss About Being a Fat Punk

Right now, I am an office worker, ok? No American would accuse me of being "skinny" but definitely "hot." I'm wearing a tight black short sleeved dress, tan fishnets, and black heels with rosettes on them. Good lord. I used to be Mrs. Avant-Punk Drummer, working nights as a ticket-taker/security/accountant for a lapdance club. I was 200lbs, and 5'4" (oh that's so horrible, right?) but you know what? I miss it!

10. Nothing to iron.
9. No mirrors
8. Doc Martens broken at the little toe.
7. Throwing on my boyfriend's clothes
6. Torn skull t-shirts
5. Folding laundry? Are you kidding?
4. Eating, drinking, drugging my fill.
3. Shallow assholes avoid you.
2. Falling asleep in front of bands at CBGB
And the thing I miss most is...
1. Integrity!

What I really don't miss was the discrimination: fat chics, esp. get a really hard time from people. Maybe people take it as a kind of rejection that some women don't care about the mating dance. Who knows?

Someone Call the Pope!

A miracle has occurred:
I am angrier at my ex- now (after the divorce) than before--and my head has not exploded!!!

If a miracle happens to me, am I sainted or something?

If I Were Dear Abby

I read these advice columns a lot! I love 'em, unfortunately, of late, there are only three questions.

Dear Abby,
My husband wants me to have a threesome with my friend, but I don't want to.
Or: my boyfriend is out with his friends all the time
Or: he wants to watch pornography
Or: he likes to go to strip clubs
Monogamous in Idaho

Dear Mono,
Equality is important in any relationship. Tell him you want to have a threesome with him and his friend first. If that doesn't cool his heels, you'll have the time of your life.

Or: if he's out with his friends, go out with your friends. Before you know it, you will both find someone new and exciting to spend time with.

Or: if he wants to watch porno, get some mags, and try to find somethings (actors/situations) you will both like.

Or:if he wants to go to strip clubs: if he's sophisticated, you can go with him; you'll make him feel like a majarajah, and he will make you feel like his most favored. If he's not sophisticated, let him go, and go to Chippendales if you like that sort of thing (my version of Chippendales would have a lot of young skinny men wearing only codpieces and glasses reading erotic short stories and poetry, while my friends and I ate chocolate and drank heavily.) But if that's not available, you could have the girls over to just watch a good erotic movie. 9 1/2 weeks, etc.

You can try this: www.forthegirls.com/

Question #2

Dear Abby:
My daughter and I have never had a great relationship. We haven't talked in years. Now, I have learned I have a disease, and I will only live for another year. I have tried to get in touch with her, but she won't talk to me. What do I do?
--Dead Soon

Dear Dead,
For whatever reason, this relationship died before you did. Send one last letter, not expecting a reply, and write the whole thing off. Next: call your doctor and your accountant, and try to figure exactly how much and what kind of fun you can have for the next year. Carpe diem!!!

Dear Abby:
My mother-in-law keeps bringing her dog over, and it pisses and shits everywhere, and licks the food off my plate at dinner. What do I do?
Spineless

Grow a spine, and tell your m-i-l she can't bring the dog over, and tell your spouse that if she gives him any lip, just refer her to you. Follow through. Have a back-up plan and suggestions (kennel? neighbor? can the dog stay outside?) Be polite, but firm. It's your house too! Spines, like everything else, get stronger with use.