January 06, 2006
Thank goodness Friday Happy Hours for 2006 are starting with a bang. A big bang. To pay homage to my favorite things (drinks), check out these booze soaked links:
First, from my blogroll, let me point you over to the Modern Drunkard Blog. Love the magazine, love the blog. I wish they'd post more often, but why am I to talk. The latest post is about one of my pet peeves, the internet jukebox. I'm all for technology, but those things are out of control:
A proper jukebox, on the other hand, is representative of one specific bar, as
comfortable in its niche as the regulars are on their stools. Computerized
jukeboxes are perfect expenditures for corporate “chain” bars like Bennigan’s or
TGI Fridays, but poisonous for independent neighborhood joints. Which is OK, if
you pause to consider that “chain” bars are hardly ever concerned with achieving
excellence. Sure, they claim to be in search of perfection, but making patently
false claims is one of the things corporations do best.
And, if you live in Denver, there are posts about local bars. And this, from October:
My biggest decision, it appears, is where to celebrate Columbus Day. Which bar
is best suited for commemorating the rediscovery of the New World? A downtown
Italian bistro? A North Side Spanish dive? Or do we hoist the flag of adventure
and drift from bar to bar like Christopher undoubtedly would have.
Tough decision to make. But I’m hungover, so I can handle it. I’m gonna say all three.
Love it. You should read Modern Drunkard Magazine.
And, there's more.
With my new video iPod I have reluctantly joined the ranks of podcast people. But there's good in every evil, and it brought me to TikiBar TV. Go immediately. Learn to make weird drinks and laugh your ass off.
January 04, 2006
I'm Not Sorry breaks it down for the new year.
So in this new year, I'd like to say something to all the talking heads with their earnest faces and Ph.Ds and American flag lapel pins:
Kindly shut the fuck up.
Let me lay some truths down:
Until there is a form of contraception that is 100 percent effective that doesn't involve the removal of a uterus, the need for abortion services will exist.
Until there is readily available and medically accurate sexual education available to everyone, the need for abortion services will exist.
Go read it. There's more.
Anyway, the new year is here, and I'm out of my mind already. I don't think I'll be posting much over the next few weeks. Work is out of control right now. But, I wanted to give you a little something. Here are things I read today:
response to this.
Sigh. This makes me tired. Well, I was tired before, but it doesn't help. While I was at home over the holidays I an into a friend from highschool. We got to talking about work, which of course turned into a conversation about feminism and politics. I need to start telling people I sell insurance, so I don't have to spend 20 minutes standing on the sidewalk learning the policital beliefs of people I don't give a shit about. Whatev. This woman tells me she is jealous because it must be "so great" to work in a feminist envirornment" where it doesn't matter what you wear or what you look like, and everyone respects each other. Uh, that does sound nice. But that's not where I work. As far as I know, that's not where anyone works.
As Bitch says, "goods" are limited. When you're doing something and getting paid for it, and you have a structure above, below and all around you, there's no paradise. Nothing is perfect. That's not wrong, or sad, it's just true. My job's job is not to nurture and validate me. We're all here to get something done. While it's nice that what we're doing is for the good, it doesn't mean it's not work. That's not bad, or patriarchal, it's real.
And, over at Feministe, follow-up to Jill's posts about being a subject of (ahem) "conversation" over at a message board.
You Know What's Fun?As soon as I read this, I figured that she's get tons of comments telling her she's beautiful, and not at all fat. And lo and behold, it came to pass. Because fat and ugly are the worst things you can be. Even to other feminists. Very few of the comments addressed the issue without assuring Jill that she's lovely.
Reading all about how hideous you are on the internet. Adorable, aren’t they?
That’s just bizzare. People aren’t just speculating that you must be
fat/ugly/bitter/all of the above. They are looking at pictures of you and
thensaying you’re ugly and fat. WTF? Are they following the same links I am?
You have absolutely nothing to worry about in the looks department.
In short, you’re getting this shit because you’re pretty, smart and
Jill says later:
And I do appreciate all the comments, but the point of the post wasn’t to say, “Please tell me I’m pretty!” Zuzu really summed it up when she wrote, “TheseShe also talks about why the message board chatter about her was upsetting. And the main reason was not because they said she was ugly. People on the board were talking about "hate fucking" her. People that go to her school, that she might see every day were threatening and horrible. That's a lot scarier than being called fat. Come on, people.
guys are obviously assholes, but it bothers me that being called fat and/or
hideous provokes such a strong, “But you’re not fat! You’re not ugly!” response.
I could just be feeling marginalized by the idea that being fat is the worst
thing a woman could be called.”
And finally, via Alas, this on Shrub.com, On Chivalry:
I care about what people try to do to me without my consent. I care about what the unspoken "rules" of chivalry mean for me and other women. And that is why I hate chivalry in its current incarnation, not because I'm against people opening doors for each other or whatever other considerate gestures they wish to extend.And
If men really want to assist women, how about joining the fight for equal wages and political power? How about working for the maintenance of reproductive rights? How about boycotting the sexist, Anglo-centric, anti-fat, media?And
Almost always when I bring up with my chivalrous male friends that I don't want a door opened for me, or I don't want my chair pulled out, or whatever, they try to shame me by telling me that I'm oversensitive, that I should be glad forThat's the point folks. Andrea doesn't like it. Maybe you do. Maybe I do. Doesn't matter. She doesn't, and to try and talk someone out of what they want and what they feel is terrible manners. Go read.
their help, etc. Sorry if I, you know, think my opinions should be the deciding
factor in what people do to me. My apologies, fellows. I'll just go back to
being the fragile desert flower who needs protection from big, strong men who
couldn't give a shit about my happiness.