Another installment from the annals of the brain of Beth in the “why?” category. Why are we embarrassed to talk about bodily functions? I understand why you might not want to hear about them over a spaghetti dinner, but why are we embarrassed? And why are we only embarrassed about certain functions and not others? For example, no one has a problem saying they threw up, tossed the cookies, vomited, regurgitated or lost their lunch. However, you’ll rarely hear someone say (frat boys and 10 year olds excluded, of course) that they shit themselves into next week. Why is it OK to talk about projectiles from one end of the digestive tract but not the other? Neither of them is pleasant. Neither of them have the sweet smell of roses. They both can be quite unpleasant and painful, yet only one of them is not talked about. Does it stem from the fact that one happens in the confines of the WC (hopefully) while the other you can do in public without any serious repercussions? Is that why when a girl throws up after an evening of festivities, a potential suitor might offer to hold her hair? Bet he wouldn’t extend the same offer in the other scenario.
Things that make me go hmmmmmm.
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I noticed the other day that Jesus is a busy guy. He’s always doing something, particularly when someone is pissed or frustrated.
The Progressive Verb Jesus
Jesus F’ing Christ (my personal standby)
Jesus Roller-blading Christ
Jesus ‘ON’ Things
Jesus Christ on a bicycle
Christ on a Crutch
Jesus Christ on a Pogo Stick
Jesus <noun> Christ (aka Mob Jesus)
Jesus Fruit Cake Christ
Jesus & Company (aka Jesus Joins a Band)
Jesus Christ & the Disciples
Jesus, Mary and Joseph
Jesus, the Early Years
Sweet Baby Jesus
Sweet Baby J
Sweet 8lb, 6oz saviour
What is your favorite blasphemous phrase?
More weirdness from the mind of me….
I have developed the need to take pictures of my food. Thanks to technology for allowing me to develop yet another weird quirk. I think I picked it up from some of my Tweeps.
I like to share the previously mentioned pictures on Twitter, which then rolls to my Facebook (as does this blog, incidentally).
I am totally addicted to the previously mentioned Twitter. I will check it hourly if possible (time and situation permitting). I do it mostly because I want to see pictures of what everyone else is eating/buying/listening to at the moment.
I think I have a heterosexual girl crush on Amanda Palmer. I am mesmerized by her mouth.
We looked at a couple of places to live in Maryland this past weekend. One place had a theater in it. I want to live in a place that has a theater in it. Screw the fitness center, I want surround sound!
A few little updates and some ramblings from me. First up, we are moving to the Baltimore area. It’s not an IF, its a WHEN. The when is whenever one of us lands a new job in the area. Many thanks to our friends who have been very kind in letting us crash at their place when we are in the Baltimore area.
Now for some ramblings, if you will indulge me.
I saw another banner for Vacation Bible School today. This one had a theme of “Crocodile Dock.” One presumes this a play on “Crocodile Rock” but as no self respecting Southern Baptist would condone rock & roll, let alone rock music produced by a gay man, that the theme must therefore be being surrounded by crocodiles. So, again I am left to question the overall theme of this VBS and what they are trying to convey. Is it the message that life is very dangerous and without Jesus you will be consumed in a fiery pit of reptiles? Or are they trying to convey the message that you must be careful and aware of your surroundings in life or you just might end up missing some fingers? Hardly the topics of merriment and rejoicing I remember from my VBS days of learning to say the Lord’s Prayer in USL and making hamburger shaped refrigerator magnets. I remember themes of being champions for the cause and of going for the gold and other such positive themes, not that any of those experiences have left be being a devotee of the Jewish carpenter. When someone asks me if I know Jesus my standard reply is, “I am familiar with his work. However, I am not a member of the fan club.” Perhaps if we had played Survivor instead I would have gotten a better sense of how organized religion REALLY works and I wouldn’t have been so disillusioned in my more formative years.
Apparently, I am older than I thought I was as Holsten Valley Medical Center has started targeting me for mailings that feature photos of attractive 50 somethings. I am also a little disturbed by the term “Comprehensive Breast Center of Excellence.” That sounds like some place I would go to get one hell of a boob job.
A list of some of the things I love:
So, what makes your days happy?
In honor of the approaching holiday, a list of things that scare me:
- Paula Dean – Eeek! Her hair is just bizarre in its perfection and her teeth are freaking HUGE! They look like she’s going to jump of the magazine cover and gnaw on you. I bet that in an alternate universe she has a gingerbread house and an oven big enough to fit a 10 year old in.
- Gary Busey – I mean, really, who isn’t scared of him? And incidentally his teeth also contribute to the creep factor.
- Sarah Palin – no explanation needed