Monday, August 28, 2006

Now something about this is just downright unsettlin’

So the other day I came home in the afternoon time, and although I espied a trashy novel on my sofa, and although I picked it up and examined it to be sure it really was that Julie Garwood, of unfond memory from my days as a bodice-ripper-bookseller inventory manager (it was), I was still pretty calm about it because all kinds of people come over to my house and leave their books around, and anyway books gravitate towards my house like Dr. Scott’s wheelchair to that big silly magnet thing. I glanced at it and was all like, virile Scotsman, tame her wild heart, poured his seed into her in a frenzy of ecstasy, blah blah blah, and I discarded it and moved on with my life. OR SO I THOUGHT.

My parents had gone to see my grandmother that day, and she is a very lovely person, a perfect lady and an English teacher. Also she is (going) blind. Also she is fantastic.

And my mum said, “You remember how you said you’d read a book onto tape for your grandmother?”

And I said, “Uh-uh.”

And she said, “Well, you did.”

And you can see where this is going, but I couldn’t (yet), because the books that I have hitherto read onto tape have been for my aunt Becky, and they have all been children’s books, and the most risque they have ever gotten is that one time that Ron made a dirty joke about Lavender’s ass, and that other time when it was suggested that Saffy and Oscar the Mad Art Student were in a situation that would be conducive to copulation, and that other time that Ron and Lavender made out all over every surface in Hogwarts. So I said, “Oh. Well, yeah!” and I was thinking how lovely, I would read a lovely book onto tape for my grandmother and she’d have it forever, and that would be great. And whatnot.

My mother said, “Well, she was thrilled.”

My father said, "She clasped her hands together" and he did an imitation of it in order for me to realize the full extent of her grandmotherly affection and gratitude.

My mother said, "She had tears in her eyes."

Clever wench that I am, I realized that I was being persuaded, and my brain did this whole thing, like, They are laying on the touchingness a little thick; they do not need to talk me into this for I am glad to do it, and yet they are acting in a manner that would suggest persuasiveness, and that is perplexing because I love to read aloud and I love my grandmother, and OH MY GOD NO OH GOD NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

Like that.

I went back and reexamined the book with a slightly different eye, and then I realized that every occurrence of the above-mentioned phrases was going to cause me to writhe with embarrassment because I would know that my blind grandmother was going to hear my voice reading them. A brief inspection turned up three (3) instances of the phrase "spilled his seed". Not to mention the "sensitive nub" bits. Not to mention the passionate moaning dialogue that occurs while one of them is going down on the other. Like, "Oh, God, yes, I -- yes, lass! Yes!" My uncle Don says the whole thing would be a lot funnier if I had the guy lisp in uranian fashion.

Friday, August 25, 2006

Harvard says that I am not a homophobe

So don’t anyone even try to tell me I don’t love the gays. I totally love the gays. I even love them subconsciously. I took an Implicit Association Test, and it turns out that I have a slight automatic preference for gay people over straight people (although this would be more accurate, I think, if they flashed pictures of gay people and straight people doing smoochies, rather than just flashing symbols, but it would not make any difference to me). Here is the link, for your delectation and delight.

In other news, South Africa is going to legalize gay marriage before we do. Just to remind you, this is the same South Africa that only got rid of apartheid twelve years ago, and they love the gays more than we (but not I) do.

25 August 2006