A blonde (Tee Boudreaux's cousin) was weed whacking the tall grass in her back yard when she accidentally cut off the tail of her cat. Poor minette! However, she immediately put the cat and her tail in her car, and drove directly to Wal-Mart. Why? Mes amis, don't you know that Wal-Mart is the largest re-tailer in the world!
Meredith, dynamic investigative reporter for a liberal on-line news service, happened to find herself in the Belly of the Beast, i.e. flyover country. New Orleans, to be more precise. Oh well, she was already philosophical in that she would be reduced to eating at Appleby's or other bourgeois dining establishments and watching television after they roll up the sidewalks at 10 P.M. The city was rather old, and had a damp odor to it. And apparently the section she was in was a tourist trap! Her previous assignment involved a report on canine segregation in a cemetery: apparently the benighted natives allowed only coon dogs to have their final resting place there.* That created a minor sensation for a day before someone pointed out that coon dog was not a bona fide A.K.C. breed, but could refer to at least six different breeds. Her editor sarcastically said that she had insufficiently gone to the dogs: those dogs were segregated by occupation, not breed. So Meredith decided to make the best of a dull situation and did a walk around. She found herself in a nondescript neighborhood where she saw a church with some basketball courts in the back. There were four twentyish women on a basketball court. Two were barefoot, and one was wearing her socks. They were shooting baskets, and a barefooted one missed. "R! R! Okay, Missy, take it off." The person addressed removed her blouse, and the guys nearby applauded seeing her in her gym shorts and bra. Meredith, no slouch in putting things together, immediately realized that they were playing strip H-O-R-S-E. This was a small miscellany item, perhaps. Apparently, the natives of New Orleans did not have surplus modesty, unlike that found in The Hamptons. Then she noticed a strange young woman wearing heliotrope blouse and a Saints baseball cap. A NOPD sergeant approached her, and Meredith anticipated some police harassment of the poor nonconformist. Instead, the sergeant addressed her as Prophetess Ma'am and gave her a twenty dollar bill. She wrote something on a ticket and gave it to the cop in return. Hmmm......the policeman made a bet with a bookie. This convinced Meredith that she could do a crime story, so she looked for other evidences of lawlessness or corruption. Unfortunately, the best she could do was see illegal parking and a rotund fellow pushing a hot dog cart down the street. It was the Lucky Dog Guy, dispensing wieners and philosophy to those who would desire either. Now this intrigued her: maybe in this eccentric environment there was makeshift employment for philosophers that would not involve lecturing or criminal activity. Meredith got hungry, but could not find a recognized mainstream restaurant nearby, so she chanced into an obscure little place that had a remarkable menu. Being somewhat bold, and wanting to have a mild adventure to talk about back in New York, she tried the red beans and rice, and the fried alligator tails. The red beans and rice were surprisingly savory and spicy, and the saurian was kind of pleasant in its own way. Still, Meredith felt screwed, as scrod was not on the menu! Bostonians out of their usual settings begin to jones for scrod. The afternoon was hot! So she decamped to her hotel. On the way, she observed a pair of police officers dancing to accordion music. The hotel bar was elegant: apparently the natives had no inhibitions regarding alcohol, unlike that wild south territory she had recently passed through. She experienced the local Serious Drink, called a Sazerac: righteously made with real absinthe and Peychaud's bitters as the Good Lord intended. *It's in Cherokee, AL, if you must know.
"The horror! The horror!" -- Mister Kurtz, The Heart of Darkness As the 114th Congress takes office, the news reporters from both the mainstream and tabloid press (the distinction is often blurred) have been increasingly aware that hard-hitting exposés of official turpitude have less than a stimulating effect on readership indignation and newspaper sales. Likewise, Congressional or Executive gridlock has occurred so often that they're kind of like repeated revolutions in banana republics! And, of course, if sales are down, then ad revenue is likely to follow much like the genteel ladies' unmentionables in an Art Frahm painting! So a Trilateral Commission of journalists truly gathered, silently prayed that some major newsworthy event would occur, and discussed the problem. They talked about a Newsworthy Gap, realizing that what was considered newsworthy in 1920 or 1960 would not fly very well now. For one thing, news was dumbed down; and certain subjects intruded into the moral framework of the news. Ugh! News became something to entertain with, not to elevate or enlighten. Finally, one brash columnist from the West Virginian Mountain Eagle proposed a panacea for their news woes: What the news really needs is a good old-fashioned sex scandal. However, the objection had it, that the reading or viewing public has become relatively desensitized regarding a lot of this, so that journalists tended to get little mileage from garden variety indiscretions. [And, who were they to judge? Hard-charging journalists were desperately in need of a story that just writes itself.] As the columnist pointed out, noteworthy exceptions to the readerships' blasé reactions came with two New York politicians: one who sexted naughty pictures of himself to various women; and another who was outed as having congress with a high-end tart! Something a little more was needed! The columnists pointed out that people in the field of entertainment got a lot of news from the strategic releases of sex tapes! Now what could be simpler? Catch some randy Republican or daring Democrat in flagrante delicto on film. Holy ABSCAM, Batman! Now all they needed was a pigeon or two. However, they discovered in reading through news archives that a Congressperson once did indeed make the news by enjoying co-ed swimming with a stripper in a Washington fountain. And he was re-elected! Therefore, they proposed a scenario: a. Some politician make a sex tape or release a sex tape of the heterosexual persuasion, with someone who is clearly old enough and willing but especially HOT! b. His or her tape gets discovered; and censored scenes from it are released on the news. c. The errant politician holds a press conference, it which he pleads contriteness while his or her wronged spouse stands by her/his man. d. His paramour is able to convert her exposure into a sitcom career. e. The politician gets re-elected. f. Newspapers sales skyrocket! However, there were flaws to this scenario: Both the Democrats and Republicans tend to be risk-aversive. They might not buy this idea! Also, how many people would want to see a Congressional sex tape? Even the novelty factor might not be enough to make this work. Finally, some big muckety-muck proposed that they make a sex tape using journalists. They got lots of volunteers! After all, they were a tribe immune to any sense of shame!
To give lagniappe (pronunced lan-yap) is an old custom of the New Orleans area. It involves a merchant or tradesperson giving a customer more than the bare aspects of the deal. For example, a grocer may throw in a bunch of parsley or cilantro or some gum, a bartender may have a plate of goodies for the customers to taste, a baker may put in an extra doughnut in a dozen, or a druggist may have an art calendar suitable for hanging.
I think it's a gentle form of cultivating social capital by attempting to give the customer the sense that he's appreciated. Doing business is not only for the money, but is also for the relationships. Part of doing lagniappe is in the conversational exchange. While this takes time, and some impatient people might find this a bit much, it does serve a purpose in providing some loners with a level of contact that is within their comfort zone.
I hope lagniappe will persist as a social grace in the future.
Women's magazines offer a consistent staple in their articles on how to be attractive to the opposite sex; and these articles seem to suffer from a common flaw: they are based on what the writer thinks will attract members of the opposite sex, rather than field-testing those ideas in a natural setting. Here's an example: a sample of ten straight guys that I asked all agreed that they did not notice what sort of shoe a girl was wearing. Hmmm....what a relief, since two of those guys was my Lover and my brother Mike and I don't have to deal with possible shoe fetishes!* In a nutshell, most of the opinions I've encountered in this informal survey include elements of being provocative, like Miley Cyrus, or having an impressive topography like Scarlett Johannson or Kim Kardashian! So I tried a different approach: I asked my respondent guys which women they found interesting or alluring. Here is the short list, in no particular order: 1. Zooey Deschanel 2. Kaley Cuoco 3. Sandra Bullock 4. Reese Witherspoon 5. Kirsten Dunst 6. Britney Spears 7. Beyoncé 8. Valerie Bertinelli 9. Kate Upton 10. Allesandra Ambrosio So what can we abstract from these examplars? Two are supermodels, two are popular singers, and six are actresses. None are politicians or lawyers. While most are in their 20's or 30's, one is in her 50's. Only two are known for their figures. In general, most of these have guy-friendly personas, and some, like Zooey Deschanel, are consistently described as quirky. So what can we conclude from this? Doing quirky or being mysterious might be easier to pull off than improving your assets. And, for some of us, quirky comes naturally. I'll be away on a trip for a week or so. In the meantime, I hope everyone has a great time, and finish up shopping or whatever without undue pain.
I may have to put something up not quite so often, as my imagination doesn't come across every other day and I fall back on lame jokes or stories. Au revoir, not adieu! Laissez les bon temps rouler! Geaux Tigers!
*For the record, no profs or French men were embarrassed by this poll.
Psychological students, whether graduates or undergraduates, are sometimes called on to perform unusual tasks. For example, in my time I have cared for laboratory rats, run planaria (flatworms) in an experiment, studied gladiator frogs, and even served as a research assistant in a social psychological experiment while wearing a swimsuit! However, an in situ experiment by Nicolas Gérguen of the Université de Bretagne-Sud explored a new topic in social psychology by having his confederate wear different-sized falsies! http://transport.dna.fr/IMG/pdf/gueguen.pdf The test stimulus used was a twenty year-old woman rated as of only average looks and a smaller than average frame (as assessed by ungallant raters). She was positioned on a busy road in Brittany (Bretagne) attempting ro hitchhike during the hours between 2 PM and 6 PM. (Hitchhiking is legal in France, and widely done.) She wore different bras on different trials: one unpadded, one with latex padding to fill a "B" cup (the average size of a young woman in France), and one with latex padding to fill a "C" cup (the next size above average). Two observers were placed within viewing distance to observe the sex of the motorist, and whether he or she stopped to offer her a ride.. Here are the results: Sex of MotoristNumberA Cup %B Cup %C Cup % Males 774 14.92 17.72 24.00 Females 426 9.09 7.64 9.33 Of those who offered The data indicate that men were more likely to stop if the woman displayed "C" sized breasts as opposed to "A" sized ones; but the likelihood of the woman being offered a lift was not greater if she wore a B cup bra with latex falsies. It's amazing and somewhat reassuring the different ways people can make their own contributions to science! An unanswered question, however, if whether this young confederate of the principal researcher was allowed to keep her bras with their latex figure enhancers! It would also be amusing to see how an American Institutional Research Board (IRB) would react to a research proposal of this type. The IRB's reaction might be hilarious! Also, if a paper using this methodology were to be read at a convention, it would generate more interest if the research assistant would demonstrate how the independent variable was manipulated through a live example, preferably by wearing the larger-sized stimulus! As a matter of fact, doing this would be a sure way of getting media exposure, both print and film!
Myra Fairfield was an aspiring author who managed to get published; but her two books managed only three stars on the GoodReads and Amazon lists. Tearfully, she implored her agent for help; the best her agent could advise was to avoid too sweeping and grandiose a book that the ordinary reader hanging out in book stores for their markdown books and free Wifi. Too bad! Myra had her heart on writing The Great American Novel. Now, according to Wikipedia, the "Great American Novel" is the concept of a novel that is distinguished in both craft and theme as being the most accurate representation of the spirit of the age in the United States at the time of its writing or in the time it is set. That sounds like a tall order. But what were the antecedent works that might justify such a lofty title? Huckleberry Finn, Moby Dick, The Great Gatsby, U.S.A. trilogy, and The Catcher in the Rye* are often mentioned. Her friend Tom the boxer gave her a tip also: she was punching above her weight. She really wasn't up to writing that kind of book. She was crestfallen; but decided that maybe Tom had a point; maybe the time for the Great American Novel has passed. And many of those alleged great American novels are books that people are assigned or guilted into reading. So she thought, "Screw this! I'll write books that people enjoy reading!" Myra decided that she might dial it down a bit, and try writing a different kind of book Maybe a period piece, set in Regency times. Yes! She could adorn her work with detailed descriptions of beautiful gowns, magnificent parties, scoundrels, sexy dialogue, and steamy passages. Darn it! This would at least sell! Henry L. Mencken was right: "No one even went broke underestimating the taste of the American public." And it did much better. But with her fourth novel Myra adopted a more contemporary time frame, wrote a romance with some comic passages and with ironic commentary, and had lots of dishing about gossip, fashions, and relationships. It sold extremely well, and got 5-star ratings! In short, she wrote the Great American Chick Novel! *My eyes roll with that one.
My name is Angélique (or Angel). I'm a native of New Orleans, LA, a Cajun, Catholic education, New Orleans heritage, single, graduate student in North Carolina. I've had work experiences as diverse as being a barista, dog groomer, bartender, and textbook salesperson.
I'm in my mid-20's, tall, thin, blonde. And, if you are wondering, let's just say that they are exquisite minatures. Politically, I'm independent, with contrarian leanings.
I like to exercise with running and dancing, including ballet and pole dancing. Interests are experimental psychology, philosophy, and language. I still have some traces of my accent, despite living here in Tarheel Country.
I manage to make the Mardi Gras. La famille is very important to me; in addition to my parents, I have two older brothers and two older sisters.
The anime character I use as my avatar is Princess Lum. She's a space alien magical girl that I think has a number of traits in common with me. However, I don't guarantee that you can control me simply by grabbing my horns!
I'm in a relationship. I hope you won't mind my odd sense of humor.