Saturday, April 19, 2014

What Really Constitutes a Date

There's the old rule, don't permit him to kiss you on the first date.  While I personally feel that rule is about as useful as the "keep all feet on the floor when making out," there's the definitional criterion for "date."

Accordingly, Angel, Mistress of Love Advice and Dress Ensemble Advice to New Orleans tourists, offers the following criteria.

1)  It's a date if either of you asks the other on it, whatever the activity might be.  This would include coffee and beignets in the Café du Monde  coffeehouse, a dinner date, a movie, even in a neighborhood theatre, drinks at a club, even to shoot rats at the dump.

2)  While it is not mandatory, it is good form to pay the way for the person being asked.

3)  There is no effective time criterion for a date.  Theoretically, you could have a ten-minute date.  Come to think of it, that's what speed dating is about.  However, that's more of a novelty in becoming acquainted with large numbers of people in a short amount of time.

4)  If either of you is getting paid, it is not a date.  It's an arrangement that might be of interest to the Vice Squad.  Sorry boys, you did not have a date with Gisele before you arrested her.

5)  If it involves politics or heavy lifting, it is not a date.  For example, you may ask her to help you push your car to the station, but that does not constitute a date!

6)  Being in the audience of the Jerry Springer Show does not constitute a date.


7)  The necklace rule:  If the occasion gives her an excuse to wear a necklace, then it is a date.

On the average, people have only 12 minutes to impress someone on a first date, according to research.  The most important factors are a person's smile (64 per cent), whether they make eye contact (58 per cent) and their tone of voice (25 per cent).

Two putting off factors were body odor (59 per cent) and bad breath (53 per cent).







Thursday, April 17, 2014

A Risqué French Cartoon

 
A Perfect Woman


1.  Mama, I am going to divorce."
2.  "And why?  Does she not cook very well?"
3.  "Oh yes, Mama, her cooking is almost as good as yours."
4.  "Is she not kind?
5.  "Yes, Mama.  She is very kind,"
6.  "Then, does she drink?"
7.  "Nothing but milk."

8.  "Is she not good in bed?"
9.  "Well, some say that yes, others no."


Tuesday, April 15, 2014

The Boob Fairy

The Boob Fairy
A song by Deirdre Flint

When I was in my teenage years, I did just what I should,
I listened to my mother and I was kind and sweet and good.
And my friends and I did rituals and I prayed with all my might
That this would be the evening that she'd stop along her flight.
Well, that was several years ago and that chick's long overdue,
And it's time I came to terms with something plainly clear to you.

The Boob Fairy never came for me.
No, the Boob Fairy never came for me.
Okay, I'm spunky and I'm cute and I've got a great personality,
But the Boob Fairy never came for me.

Well, we were the third house on a country drive, I thought
Maybe she just got lost, so I hung my bra on the mailbox
Til the neighbors took it off.
And all my friends got visits and expanded through the years
And left me wailing to the gods buying training bras at Sears.
Still I harbor hopes, she'll come for me, I know she will.
I'd get 'em done myself, if she'd agree to fit the bill.

The Boob Fairy never came for me.
No, the Boob Fairy never came for me.
Look, I wasn't wanting melons, just a cute curvaceous "B,"
But the Boob Fairy never came for me.








Sunday, April 13, 2014

The Prophetess Weighs in on Celibate Clergy

It's a hard time for faithful Catholics, with all the bad news of misconduct of priests doing awful things with children, and it has cast a total pall of discontent and suspicion even among the fervent Catholics such as the ladies of St. Cletus's Altar Society in New Orleans.  Now it seems that our Prophetess, despite some  rough edges and an unpromising start, has managed despite her youthful status to become imbedded in the doings of her church in addition to her official street roles as a preacher, taiteur and occasional equine handicapper!  She's very much the modern gal: she can balance several roles with no trouble.  Nevertheless, she had been comfortable being in the background.  And, believe me, cher, the ladies of the Altar Society were glad for that!

Once they had a meeting, with the guest speaker being some big muckety-muck Monseigneur from the Archdiocese.  Now this is the way that the Catholic Church works, the Archbishop sends some minion with official status to mend fences, as needed.  It's as if the sight of an avuncular chubby man wearing a red trim on his clerical garb will cause the ladies to swoon!  Ah, but that was strictly old church.  The ladies of St. Cletus somehow missed the memorandum.

The discussion that the unsuspecting Monseigneur was asked to moderate was on clerical celibacy; and the official line is that it's a good thing, not to be changed because it makes priests special!  Anyway, it was originally touted as a discussion, but it had a planned agenda.  It was to go to a specific destination like the St. Charles Avenue streetcar does. 

But in the course of discussion, our girl felt the spirit move her . . . . She offered her perspective as a prophetess.  Oh, oh!  Storm warning!

"Ah, mes amis and Mister Monseigneur . . . . [Madeline drifts back and forth from French to English when excited.]  The problem with the loss of priestly vocations, and the pedophile priests . . . . this is part of a big picture.  The problem, I see it, is that we do not get many new priests of quality and many that we have become, er, cagou because they do not have proper wives to steer them!  And anyway, why not have women priests as well?  Or even a woman bishop?  It is the celibacy thing, that is the cause!  If the young priests would get the sex thing out of their system at an early age, and the priesthood made more attractive for normal guys, then they would come.  At least the ones that are okay with wearing priest's clothes!"

The alarmed Monseigneur was alarmed at this naked display of nonorthodox opinion.  Should he pull out a crucifix to ward off this possible heretic?  He tried to save things by falling back on the usual saws about adherence to sacred vows, but Madeline went on.  And some of the other ladies jumped in too, including those regarded by their beleagured priest as "safe."  A few might have even dreamed about being a Mrs. Priest!

Her priest shuddered and thought, "This is going to be a three Jamieson night, for sure.  Maybe I'll need four.  And I'll get a summons from the Archbishop tomorrow, if not later tonight!"

Madeline:  "It is true.  Men need wives and girlfriends to keep them sane.  Having a wife not only to sleep with from time to time but to interact with in solving the everyday tasks of a marriage will give a priest perspective.  Not just for the time they spend in bed -- but that is a sacrament also! -- but to keep him from going to seed.  How many single middle-aged men still keep up appearances?  Not many, I tell you de trooth!  And how can you give a woman marriage or birth control advice if you know zero about women?  Talk about the blind attempting to lead people who can sort of see their way."

Some members of the Altar Society had the uncharitable thoughts about the nature of Madeline the Prophetess's relationship with that nice policeman Officer Pete, but that could be a matter of Confession for them; or they could maybe put the priest on Madeline's case!  Still, they began to wonder privately whether Madeline might have some good ideas there.  After all, middle-aged priests can be so obstinate and know-it-all sometimes; they need someone to smooth the rough edges!

Also, they wanted Madeline to voice her views on birth control to the Archdiocese!









 
 

Friday, April 11, 2014

*Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité, et Soutien-Gorges"

Several years ago, being loose in Paris for a day with some friends, we tried out our hand at shopping primarily on the Rue de Rennes but also on some side streets. There we found one: an example of fabled French lingerie shop, combining risqué with the beautiful; the charming with the practical. How could we resist: why not pick up some nonedible souvenirs that probably should not displayed upon our return to the USA, except by curious customs office functionaries who are detailed to prevent contraband from entering the country. Now this was a place where the mesdames and madamoiselles of fashion, the exotic dancers, and the unfortunate husbands seeking drachenfutter to appease their irate spouses could gravitate to. And three Americans in search of adventure and the Platonic ideal of undies (did the real Plato contemplate such matters?) looked into the den of risqué as well.

We entered into a Temple of Bras. It was a daunting place, befitting being housed in a 19th century building: did we stray to where the showgirls shopped? I'm sure there are the places like that in Paris. Now the proprietress, a formidable middle-aged woman, offered to help. I mumbled something about my sizes, and asked what would she recommend. She said, "Ah, you are Americian; we size you differently here." So she produced a metric tape measure and proceeded to map the topography of Angélique to a greater degree than before! She was charming; she spent a lot of time fussing over us, showing us some examples, assured us that those wispy and lacy confections were the proper mode for us.  "Ces jolies seins!  Cela le montrera correctement."  And it was true: they were both chic and comfortable. We were in undie bliss, and bought several.

Memo to self: Not to let my older sister Jessica see them. She already suspects that I am past wicked and would be shocked enough to forbid her children to see me and to do a flying novena to pray for my immortal soul! It was a hit with shopping.

When we looked back after leaving the store, the building had a partiotic message on the stone facade: Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité. And we felt that Soutien-Gorges (Bras) should also be included.

Later on we found Fachon's and got beaucoup chocolate.  It is a notion widely accepted in Paris that bra-shopping and chocolate naturally go together.




Wednesday, April 9, 2014

The Louisiana Senate Refuses to Allow 'Chicken Boxing'

As incredible as it may seem, a Louisiana State Senator actually brought up a bill that would make "chicken boxing" legal.  This "sport," very similar to cockfighting but with the birds wearing rubber gloves over their talons, was offered as a harmless, bloodless sport by Sen Elbert Guillory (R- Eunice).

Louisiana outlawed cockfighting in 2008 -- the last state in the country to do so.  Cockfighting is a disgusting enterprise; cruel to the birds, debasing to the humans who want to watch such a spectacle, and a blot on the state.  Outlawing cockfighting was long overdue. 

I could not help but see this bill as a deliberate attempt to circumvent the anti-cockfight legislation by creating some exceptions.  And, of course, when sheriff is not around, the protective gloves might be removed from the birds and they can fight by using their own talons.

Fortunately, the Louisiana Senate saw it this way too: it turned down the bill by a vote of 29-8.  For once, more level-headed members of the Legislature prevailed.

I did a cursory on-line search.  No state allows bullfighting.  (Thank heaven for small favors.)  In all states, dog fighting is a felony offense.  One state, Alabama, even specifically has outlawed bear wrestling.  I wondered whether this was a misspelling, as in forbidding unclothed individuals from wrestling, whether in a ring or in a pool of Jello.  No, it forbade ursine participants from doing so. 

While people tend to associate cockfighting and dog fighting with the backwoods South, it does occur in other areas as well.  It is important to ensure that the anti-animal fighting laws are not modified so as to provide loopholes in which those disgusting practices can continue.






http://www.nola.com/politics/index.ssf/2014/04/louisiana_senate_rejects_chick.html

http://abcnews.go.com/US/wireStory/la-senate-refuses-protect-chicken-boxing-23231566

Monday, April 7, 2014

Catahoula Leopard Dog

The Catahoula Leopard Dog is the official state dog of Louisiana.  It is an old breed; said to be partly descended from dogs that came with Hernando de Soto.

It's commonly referred to as the Catahoula hound or Catahoula cur.  This breed is highly intelligent and energetic. While Catahoulas are assertive, they are not aggressive by nature. They have a need to take charge of their pack, whether it consists of other dogs or humans.   Catahoulas in general are very even tempered; but tend to be dominant if allowed to be.  They require firmness, 

Catahoulas are very serious about their job when they are working dogs. Specifically, they can make good boar hunters; but are also especially good at herding cattle or pigs.  They make a good family dog but require extensive daily interaction with their owner.  Specifically, longer runs or walks is a nearly daily requirement. 

When a Catahoula is raised with children, the dog assumes the responsibility to look after and protect those children. Many owners will say that the Catahoula owns them and they can be insistent when it comes to meal times, play time, or do other activities. Catahoulas are protective and a natural alarm dog. They will alert one to anything out of the ordinary.

With a Catahoula you cannot forget that you have a high energy, personable dog.  This is not one for apartment living, but one that needs to run and be all the dog he or she can be.