Genghis on Debt Ceiling II: Return of the Boehner
Gallup: Obama 45, Romney 45
Fact That Things Suck Cited As Impediment To Re-Election
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Genghis on Debt Ceiling II: Return of the Boehner Gallup: Obama 45, Romney 45 Fact That Things Suck Cited As Impediment To Re-Election |
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[Author’s Note: This was originally posted on this site on Jan. 8, 2008. But with my wife, Emilia, out of town and me deep in the throes of missing her (Don’t let her know that, tho) I thought it would be a good time for a re-post]
I try not to mention my wife, Emilia, in my work because, well, I don’t know why. She sure as hell talks about me at her work. She has several bits down pat about the adventures of the silly American in a strange land.

Generally, however, I keep Emilia in the background. But I had mentioned a story in a blog post about her innocently (I’ll testify to that in court) about something we did on a cruise ship. I feel like this might be embarrassing for her, but I thought, “hey, If I just write a really sweet post about her first, I’d probably be ok on this one.” If there’s one thing they don’t teach you about marriage, it’s this - variables. Get to know them, and play them.
So anyway, this one time, on a cruise ship …
My parents, showcasing again why they are the greatest parents in the world and shining proof that conservatives are not all evil people, took myself, my two sisters and our spouses, as well as my sisters’ kids on a five-day cruise.
First of all, let me just wrap this part up now: If you are thinking of taking a cruise, do it. It’s a fantastic, relaxing time where you can do whatever you like. It’ll run you when you’re on board especially, but they do treat you right (and I’m just speaking of the top-named ones because those are all I know).
So the trip was a blast for all involved. But right in the middle, on the third night was a contest I’d convinced my wife to join with me. We had been married just over a year, and the ship was holding a bawdy “Newlywed Game” of sorts. So we went to the “audition” as it were, which was scheduled just 45 minutes before the show in one of their big fancy show rooms. Shockingly, a lot of couples wanted in on this. There were maybe 30 couples there, for only three spots. And then one of the spots went to a couple that had been married 700 years and were as sassy and funny an older couple you could find. They should have their own show.
Then the next spot went to a younger couple, who were married the least amount of time. They had actually been married on the boat, a few hours earlier. So, there was just one spot remaining, and to make it onto the show, they lined us all up and gave us an “American Idol” audition of who could perform the best “Tarzan and Jane” impersonation. The odds were stacked against us. I told Emilia not to worry, I’d get us there.
So as there were less than 10 couples left, doing their lame Tarzan and Jane imitations, I came up with the plan: A three-part plan, actually:
1) Art: Emilia would perform “Tarzan and Jane” via interpretive dance.
2) Stand up: I would tell a “Tarzan and Jane” joke acting live a Vegas comedian.
3) Porn: Emilia would then fall on her back, I’d give a Tarzan yell, and pounce on her.
Let me tell you, for having merely seconds to come up with this, it was pretty impressive plan. Emilia kept saying “I have to do what?” and “Don’t make me do that,” and “Oh please don’t make me do that,” and other things on the same variation. But aside from that, things were going smoothly. And then it was our turn. And we nervously stepped forward to the center of the room, the audience having already reached 500 or so. We lept into our roles …
… and it worked. Brilliantly.
The main reason it worked was the fact that once Emilia decided that she was going along with this plan, she was going to give it her all. She interpretive danced her ass off.
She was behind me so I couldn’t see as I threw a lame joke at the audience like “What did Jane say to Tarzan when he came home? Hey Tarzan, you’re starting to smell like a cheata.” But the crowd was going nuts. Emilia was just back there working it for all she was worth. When I finally ran over to her for the finale porn scene, she was exhausted, but fell to her back and dutifully kicked her legs up comedically after I roared and pounced for the ultimate porn act.
It was the scene, man. The crowd was going bonkers, we went back and stood in line and awaited the rest of the act. We were nervous and somewhat humiliated.
Because here’s something I left out: My parents were there. As were my sisters, their husbands and combined six children. We could see them in the balcony. It was surreal.
So the finale came down to the audience giving a “Clap-off” with another couple. That couple had made it to the finals because he had shouted “Me Tarzan, you Jane,” lifted up her top and rubbed his face all over her ample bosoms. The audience was in varying taste that day, as I’d swear the clap came back a virtual tie, but the host chose us, and Emilia and I, who had been front of the stage, ran around and got on stage, facing a thousand fellow travelers, ready to put on a show. Even with the darling newlyweds and the cute-as-a-pool-of-kittens older couple, we were the favorites. Because Emilia had won the crowd over with her interpretive dance.
The show itself was taped (but sadly, not the audition, Emilia’s dance will only remain in the minds of those who watched, family included), so I’m not going to go into it too much. Go ahead and find a tape and post it on the Internet, I dare you. I own one and I know a few others exist.
But one answer sticks out. You see, what they do is send all the guys back stage and ask the girls a question, then vice-versa. I had just come back from being backstage, and the question presented to me was “How do you know your wife is in the mood?” I answered - just as she had previously answered - “When she puts her hair up.”
The crowd was already laughing.
“Why does she put her hair up, Bill?”
“Well, you know, so she can go, you know, down there. You know.”
The crowd went nuts. The younger guy on stage with us - in an impressive bit of comedic timing - stands up to me and shakes my hand and gives a small hug. I turn around, the older man had gotten up to, and was shaking my hand vigorously. The crowd loved it.
Oh yeah, my parents and family were there. Did I mention that? Thought I should remind you.
Anyway, we somehow did whatever we had to do to win, got enough answers right and took home the prize. I said I’d come up with a way to get us there, but it was all Emilia after that. We were Newlywed Games Champions, and received a bunch of crap to prove it to the world. It was a memorable night.
My parents just pretended it never happened.
After it was over, we were stars. Literally stars. A cruise ship, you see, is it’s own community. And we were the celebrities of that community. Everyone came up to talk to us, we could see people looking at us, a guy even took our picture. It was a nice little glimpse of what it’s like to have some fame. It added to the cruise’s enjoyment.
Emilia cheated. Yes, my wife cheated to win at “The Newlywed Game” on a cruise ship. She cheated out a couple that were married during the Nero Administration.
It’s not her fault really. When it comes to games, Brazilians are the cheatingest group of people on the planet. It’s a cultural thing. Cheating and gaining an advantage is how you play. Watch Brazilians play soccer some time, their flops can be more athletic than when they net the ball.
So keep in mind, this is a culture issue. When it comes to games, it’s important to not get cheated on, and to find your own way to cheat. It’s part of any game. It’s frowned up in the U.S., but it’s a purely cultural. Brazilians like to win. And will do whatever is needed to get a win.
So in the end, my wife wasn’t being dishonorable, she was being true to her culture.
Basically, it happened as me and the guys returned from back stage. I got on stage and she gave me a quick hug and whispered “Sex motel” in my ear.
In Brazil, a motel, is basically by definition, a place for sex and partying that you can rent by the hour. The better ones are really fancy, have jacuzzi, sauna, hot and cold running porn and the likes. They even deliver food to you that’s quite good, and it’s all done in an environment of complete secrecy. Even the poorer sections of town have the, even when all they have is garages that close.
So when the Question was asked of me “Where did your wife say your strangest encounter was” I had my answer. I would have answered that anyway, because it was strange. Awesome, but strange. Place even had a waterfall. I told the crowd all about it - the crowd that included my parents.
No one has ever known about this until now. My parents, family, all those who fawned over us afterward - they were cheated. We pulled one over on them. My wife cheated at “The Newlywed Game” on a cruise ship.
And really, how can you not love that?
–WKW
By Nancy Benac, Associated Press, May 16, 2012
After the nastiness of the Republican primary race, former candidates have collective amnesia about Romney disses
Note to self: you think you're so smart about this kinda stuff, but you yourself fell for it once again.....so much for all the prognostication about one of our political parties disintegrating from all the primary campaign animosity.
Pew Resarch Center for the People and the Press, May 15, 2012
For decades survey research has provided trusted data about political attitudes and voting behavior, the economy, health, education, demography and many other topics. But political and media surveys are facing significant challenges as a consequence of societal and technological changes.
It has become increasingly difficult to contact potential respondents and to persuade them to participate. The percentage of households in a sample that are successfully interviewed – the response rate – has fallen dramatically. At Pew Research, the response rate of a typical telephone survey was 36% in 1997 and is just 9% today. The general decline in response rates is evident across nearly all types of surveys, in the United States and abroad. At the same time, greater effort and expense are required to achieve even the diminished response rates of today. These challenges have led many to question whether surveys are still providing accurate and unbiased information [....]
On May 16, 2012 at 7:00 PM, the Ride of Silence will begin in North America and roll across the globe. Cyclists will take to the roads in a silent procession to honor cyclists who have been killed or injured while cycling on public roadways. Although cyclists have a legal right to share the road with motorists, the motoring public often isn't aware of these rights, and sometimes not aware of the cyclists themselves.
...
The Ride of Silence is a free ride that asks its cyclists to ride no faster than 12 mph, wear helmets, follow the rules of the road and remain silent during the ride. There are no sponsors and no registration fees. The ride, which is held during National Bike Month, aims to raise the awareness of motorists, police and city officials that cyclists have a legal right to the public roadways. The ride is also a chance to show respect for and honor the lives of those who have been killed or injured.
A new UCLA rat study is the first to show how a diet steadily high in fructose slows the brain, hampering memory and learning — and how omega-3 fatty acids can counteract the disruption. The peer-reviewed Journal of Physiology publishes the findings in its May 15 edition.
"Our findings illustrate that what you eat affects how you think," said Fernando Gomez-Pinilla, a professor of neurosurgery at the David Geffen School of Medicine at UCLA and a professor of integrative biology and physiology in the UCLA College of Letters and Science. "Eating a high-fructose diet over the long term alters your brain's ability to learn and remember information. But adding omega-3 fatty acids to your meals can help minimize the damage."
While earlier research has revealed how fructose harms the body through its role in diabetes, obesity and fatty liver, this study is the first to uncover how the sweetener influences the brain.
The UCLA team zeroed in on high-fructose corn syrup, an inexpensive liquid six times sweeter than cane sugar, that is commonly added to processed foods, including soft drinks, condiments, applesauce and baby food. The average American consumes more than 40 pounds of high-fructose corn syrup per year, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture.
"We're not talking about naturally occurring fructose in fruits, which also contain important antioxidants," explained Gomez-Pinilla, who is also a member of UCLA's Brain Research Institute and Brain Injury Research Center. "We're concerned about high-fructose corn syrup that is added to manufactured food products as a sweetener and preservative."
[Better write this down]
Christopher Doyon, a.k.a. Commander X, sits atop a hillside in an undisclosed location in Canada, watching a reporter and photographer make their way along a narrow path to join him, away from the prying eyes of law enforcement.
It’s been a few weeks of encrypted emails back and forth, working out the security protocol to follow for interviewing Doyon, one of the brains behind Anonymous, now a fugitive from the FBI.
Doyon, who readily admits taking part in some of the highest-profile hacktivist attacks on websites last year — from Tunisia to Orlando, Sony to PayPal — was arrested in September for a comparatively minor assault on the county website of Santa Cruz, Calif., where he was living, in retaliation for the town forcibly removing a homeless encampment on the courthouse steps.
The “virtual sit-in” lasted half an hour. For that, Doyon is facing 15 years in jail.
Thanks :)
I was actually in Manaus last weekend for some eco-glamping. Should have something on it today.
Ok. It's completely obvious what's right about your wife.
There is, however, that one teensy-tiny bad decision that's forever gonna blot her reputation, leave question marks around her sanity, and you know... kinda haunt her.
I think you feel me on this one, eh?
I know where you're going with this one, but the sad thing is how well it generalizes. If women actually had the good taste we tend to attribute to them, wouldn't they all be lesbians?