Potty-Mouth Failure
Tuesday, April 22, 2008

I went into this particular "web quiz" with a high degree of certainty that I would score in at least the high 90s, but came away with this conclusion:
I must be slipping.

Created by OnePlusYou

h/t to JackGoff

Posted byPortlyDyke at 12:01 AM 5 comments  

Labels: Humor, Teh Internet

There Are Days
Sunday, April 20, 2008

When I just want to see something that I know will tickle my fancy -- that's why this video remains in my favorites list -- forever:



and also why I "StumbleUpon", regularly:

Posted byPortlyDyke at 1:05 AM 6 comments  

Labels: Funny Fluff, Humor, Video

Teachers
Friday, April 4, 2008

(In a moment of extreme rarity, I'm actually posting before 11 pm. It's a miracle, I tell you -- a miracle!)

Last night, I was reading a thread about someone who could not imagine how teachers could survive on a salary of less than $50,000/yr (current average in the US for teachers is around $46K).

It jogged my memory about something I'd received via email a while back, and I just had to reprint it here:

ARE YOU SICK OF THOSE HIGH PAID TEACHERS?

I, for one, am sick and tired of those high paid teachers. Their hefty salaries are driving up taxes and they only work nine or ten months a year!

It's time we put things in perspective and pay them for what they do...baby-sit! We can get that for less than minimum wage.

That's right...I would give them $3.00 dollars an hour and only the hours they worked, not any of that silly planning time. That would be 15 dollars a day. Each parent should pay 15 dollars a day for these teachers to baby-sit their children. Now, how many do they teach in a day.... maybe 25.

Then that's 15 X 25 = $375 a day.

But remember they only work 180 days a year! I'm not going to pay them for any vacations.

Let's see... *that's 375 x180 = $67,500.00

(Hold on, my calculator must need batteries!)

What about those special teachers or the ones with master's degrees? Well, we could pay them minimum wage just to be fair. Let's round it off to $6.00 an hour. That would be $6 times 5 hours times 25 children times 180 days = $135,000.00 per year.

Wait a minute, there is something wrong here!!!

As the daughter of two school teachers, I appreciated this deeply.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 11:45 AM 4 comments  

Labels: Humor

Just in Case You Missed It
Wednesday, April 2, 2008

This was the BBC's April Fool's bit for this year:


And this is how it was made:


And, just for good measure, here's the very first BBC April Fool's video -- released during my first year of life:

Posted byPortlyDyke at 11:30 PM 4 comments  

Labels: Funny Fluff, Humor

Funny Women
Thursday, March 13, 2008

I've been writing a lot recently about men and women and feminism and misogyny and sexism. So . . . . .

Posted byPortlyDyke at 11:50 PM 5 comments  

Labels: Feminism, Humor, Video

Self-Image
Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Posted byPortlyDyke at 2:01 AM 4 comments  

Labels: Body Acceptance, Humor, Video

It Is Truly A Sad, Sad Day
Monday, March 10, 2008

I give you the season finale of "Mr. Deity". No word yet whether Sony and Crackle will be signing the Big Guy for a third season.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 9:45 PM 6 comments  

Labels: Humor, Mr. Deity, Religion

Told Ya So
Friday, March 7, 2008

H/T to Madness in Women

Posted byPortlyDyke at 4:21 PM 3 comments  

Labels: Fluff, Funny Fluff, Humor

Have I Ever Told You . . . .
Wednesday, March 5, 2008

. . . . how much I love Joy Nash (creator of the "Fat Rant" on youtube)?

Posted byPortlyDyke at 11:24 PM 0 comments  

Labels: Body Acceptance, Fat, Humor, Video

Becoming Insult-Proof
Monday, March 3, 2008

I don't get a lot of hostile commenters at this blog -- it's small and insignificant (except to me and a handful of readers) -- but at other blogs I frequent as a reader and commenter, I often see insults and invective tossed around.

Hell, I've been known to get in a zinger or two myself, if the asshattedness gets overt enough.

One of the things that amuses me, though, is when someone has attempted to "insult" me by writing things like "You're just a fat lesbo who couldn't get a man if she tried!", or has attempted a frontal assault on a fat-acceptance blog by spouting something like: "You obese cow!", or sallied forth to decimate a progressive feminist blog by screeching "You're all a bunch of man-hating dykes!"

Honestly -- these people need new writers.

Here's the thing about "traditional" insults -- a) they stop having much power after you've heard them a million times (usually from the mouths of people whose ideas about other things seem so wrong-headed that you think: "They don't approve of me . . . . I must be doing something right!"), and b) when people use something that you've already clearly and unashamedly owned, it really isn't much of an insult (ie: "You're just a fat lesbo . . . " -- Hmmm, Let's see -- Portly . . . . Check! -- Dyke . . . . . Check! -- leaving me simply with the desire to type: "Glad you noticed my handle. You get an 'A' for reading comprehension.")

So, tonight, I got to thinking about what someone actually might say to me that I would honestly feel "zinged" by --- and I discovered that there's not much left. I know I'm a roly-poly little pervert, and I not only don't mind that -- I actually like it.

Sure, it's inconvenient being queer sometimes (you know, civil rights, physical safety, and all that bother), but I stopped whining and started working on resolving that crap long ago (moving out of Kansas was a good start), and I'm now at an age where if someone decides they don't like me because I am fat, or queer, -- well -- they just aren't people who I will choose to waste much, if any, of my time on.

Hence, "fat fucking lesbo" doesn't even raise my chin-whiskers anymore.

Someone could accuse me of being stubborn, or relentless, or of monopolizing a conversation -- they could attempt to zing me with comments about how I vacillate, or how I often don't follow through on things that I say I'll do (mumblemumblemumblerepeatedpromisestoblogdaily, coughcough-putting labels on all my posts). They could even go for the soft tissue and accuse me of being a mental case.

But see, they'd be right. So, how would that be an insult?

I suppose they could say something to the effect that, as a queer, I'm worthless, bad, and need to be eradicated from the face of the Earth -- but if they said something like that, they'd just be wrong -- so how would that be an insult?

I think that, in order for an insult to truly "take", it has to be something that simultaneously possesses a seed of truth, and it has to be something that you don't want to own.

If someone wants to call me a loud-mouthed, opinionated know-it-all, and my response is "Yeah, tell me something I don't know,"-- the energy of the intended insult is simply absorbed and that energy then belongs to me. To do with as I please.

My beloved has a phrase for this: Spiritual Aikido.

So as I was cogitating on all this, and wondering what little disowned aspects I might have that could still get me all up and sputtering if they were thrown at me, I got to wondering about trolls and the like, and how they take the insults that are thrown at them -- do they feel wounded or upset by what people say to them? Or do they already know that they are acting like assholes? Just a thought.

I know that coming to a greater knowledge and understanding of myself -- forthrightly facing and owning things that I used to think of as "flaws" in myself (which I now think of as simply "qualities"), has rendered me pretty much insult-proof. I no longer have many heroic images of myself, but I also don't have a big pedestal to get hurled off of.

So, here's a bit of Portly advice for you, if you want it -- next time someone "insults" you, and it upsets you, look for that seed of truth, and how you may want to distance yourself from it -- then either step up and proudly own it -- or, if it's hogwash, leave the speaker to cleanse a pig with it.

I think that this whole line of thought started when I saw the following video clip (again, it's Crackle -- be sure to pause it if you don't want to watch the unending comedy line-up of inconsistent quality that follows the first video) -- this clip was notable to me in that it contains not only the rarity of a woman stand-up, but a woman stand-up of menopausal character.

Notice, however, what "Mrs. Hughes" does with the very first line of her set -- she makes a joke that lets the audience know that she knows she's fat by cultural standards -- thus (I believe) derailing a whole set of possible hecklers. She proceeds to her second line and also lets the audience know that she knows she's "old" by cultural standards.

Having done comedy myself, I recognize the efficacy of this -- I started all my sets (especially if I was playing in a venue that was not primarily LGBT, with a forthright identification of myself as queer -- in a funny way -- for the same reason).

Here's to Mrs. Hughes and becoming "insult-proof".

Posted byPortlyDyke at 10:08 PM 9 comments  

Labels: Humor, Teh Internet, Trolls, Video

Just in Time For Sunday -- Mr. Deity
Sunday, February 24, 2008

Posted byPortlyDyke at 12:02 AM 3 comments  

Labels: Humor, Mr. Deity, Religion

Mr. Deity!!!
Monday, February 11, 2008

Okay -- so you already know my "I'm your biggest fan" status with Mr. Deity -- and this most recent episode is probably my favorite since the very first episode -- so since they make such great book-ends, I've posted the new one first (Mr. Deity and the Good), and the original episode below it (Mr. Deity and the Evil).

(Note: It looks like this might be getting a lot of play at the Crackle server, so you may have to wait for it to load fully to get uninterrupted play.)

This was the premier episode -- truly -- they're all worth a watch.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 9:06 AM 2 comments  

Labels: Humor, Mr. Deity, Religion

Lawrence Rools!!!!!
Sunday, February 10, 2008

I'm pretty sure that my grandparents must have seen the number in the clip below the very week it was broadcast some 35 years ago -- they were die-hard Lawrence Welk fans until the show was canceled (actually, now that I think of it, my grand-dad died before the last show aired -- so he was literally a die-hard fan).

I hated that show, because when we were at my grandparents house, nothing else could exist on the TV if Welk was on -- but damn -- I can't stop watching this clip -- and Brian said it best:

"This is either the most subversive moment in the history of the Lawrence Welk Show, or they didn't have a clue what they're singing, and neither did anyone else on the show. Either way, it's effing brilliant." ~ Brian from Incertus

I love how Dale and Gail try to make it "extra zippy" with that syncopated drop-beat before "hopin' that the train is on time", and Dale's hep-cat bass scatting of "dontcha know that we're-a . . . ".

"There you've heard a modern spiritual by Gail . . . and Dale".

Indeed. Indeed I have.

I'm voting that they had no idea what this song was about -- Gail and Dale look way too perky to be stoners, and if they were taking anything beyond Folgers coffee back in the day, that pinafore would given them both flashbacks for decades.

Gail does look kind of creeped-out by Dale's proximity, though -- maybe that's the weed-induced paranoia setting in -- No -- wait -- never mind -- that's not paranoia, it's just good old-fashioned common sense. (Step away from the man with smarmy hair!)

Then again -- at 00:00:14 of the vid, Myron (yes, I know his name -- Myron Florens --the accordian guy -- I told you they made me watch it!) . . . . . . at second 14, Myron does seem to be exhibiting symptoms of, well . . . . hash-throat.

*waving at txrad*
===========================
(h/t to Brian at Incertus -- and by the way -- if you don't already read Incertus -- well, you know how much I hate the word "should", so I won't say that you "should" read this blog . . . . . I'll just say that I heartily recommend it.)

Posted byPortlyDyke at 11:59 PM 3 comments  

Labels: Funny Fluff, Humor, Video

Mr. Deity and The Limbo
Sunday, January 27, 2008

Sorry about no post yesterday -- I'll be back later tonight -- meanwhile"

Posted byPortlyDyke at 1:27 PM 1 comments  

Labels: Humor, Mr. Deity, Religion

Something You've Probably Done
Thursday, January 24, 2008

A warning before you read on -- this post is NSFW (not safe for work) -- if you work for anyone who is sex-phobic.

Me?

I work for myself -- and I'm not sex-phobic by any stretch of the imagination, so this post is not NSFW for me.

This post is about masturbation.

Like I said: Something you've probably done.

My astrological complex is: Gemini/Cancer Cusp, Sagittarius Moon, Scorpio Rising.

I could use that to "explain" the importance of sex in my life, but I don't think I need to. I like sex. I've always liked sex.

While there are some people who do not like sex (and by this, I mean people who genuinely do not like sex, as opposed to people who hate the idea of sex, or think that sex is dirty/bad/evil/wrong), and while I completely respect the proclivities of people who do not like sex, I think that there are many people who do like sex, but whose upbringing and cultural entrainment may have steered them away from a complete enjoyment of their own sexuality.

Hence, this post.

About masturbation.

When I was a teenager, Saturday mornings were the only real free time I had. Mon-Fri was School (or a Summer job), dinner, family/homework in the evenings, and Sundays mornings, there was Church to get up for, then more family. Thus, Saturday mornings were preferred masturbation time.

My mother thought I just liked to sleep late (yeah, as if).

As they say: "Practice makes perfect" -- so I did my level best to practice the art of self-pleasure. I also believe that my lovers benefited from my endless self-experimentation, so it's all good.

Please note the following video, and how it's "funny" because it's preposterous to us that people would be this completely frank and open about this uncomfortable subject -- "Playing in a One Man Show", "Engaging in Super-Safe Sex","Much Goo About Nothing", "Tugging the Vertical Smile", "Getting To Know Yourself" (or my personal favorite, courtesy of best-friend -- "Waving at the Pod") -- in short -- Wanking:


I've wanked in many times, spaces, and dimensions, with and without aids, alone and with others. Despite all social commentary to the contrary ("You wanker!", "What? Hole in your inflatable girlfriend again?", etc.) I think masturbation is a good thing, and I say that as a person in a completely satisfying sexual relationship with another human being.

Too often, in our culture, I think masturbation gets short shrift. It's the thing you're supposed to do only if you have no alternative ("alternative" being: sex with another human being). While making love/having great sex with another consenting human is fantastic, there are still times when some "quality time" with yourself and your genitalia can be just the thing.

It's odd to me that something that is so nearly-universal in humans is still the source of humor-through-shame.

Which is why I was glad that I found the following video clip.

When I first saw it, I was absolutely stopped in my tracks, and wondered if it could possibly be "real" -- however, I believe that most of the people on this clip are really doing what you think they're doing -- and the vulnerability of that astounded and still astounds me. This is one of the most amazing videos I've ever seen on the internet.

It's outrageously courageous, in my opinion, and I salute all the brave souls who participated.



Keep doing what you've probably done.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 11:54 PM 6 comments  

Labels: Humor, Sex, Truth, Very Personal Details, Video

I've Been Saved
Sunday, January 13, 2008

It's true. I have embraced a personal relationship with my Deity, and once again, my faith has been rewarded.

See, just last night, I was praying that I would find something to blog today that wouldn't require me to take a lot of time and attention from the project that I'm blissfully in love with right now (and which I've been deeply involved in since noon).

And my prayers have been answered.

Who says there is no Supreme Being? Jesus Jesse saves. Can I get an Amen?!?!?!

Posted byPortlyDyke at 7:43 PM 2 comments  

Labels: Funny Fluff, Humor, Mr. Deity, Religion, Video

The Portly Stand-Up
Tuesday, January 8, 2008

This is another in a continuing series of Portly Parables.

It's true -- I was once a stand-up comedienne.

I'm even in a book about women stand-ups (find me if you can!).

I was Teh Funny.

Stand-up is a very weird gig. You go out on a stage, alone, for the singular purpose of making a bunch of people that you usually don't know -- laugh -- either at you, or with you.

In my experience (and with Joni's eminently sage musical validation) -- laughter is a form of release that is next-door-neighbor/cousin/twin/soul-mate to crying.

My humor was mostly socio-political. I liked the way that humor let me get close to the bone with people -- by making a joke about something like lesbian serial-monogamy, I actually got "humorless" lesbians to chuckle (or at least stir in their chairs a bit).

You see -- I was a not just a stand-up comedienne -- I was an out lesbian stand-up comedienne. My mother pointed out to me at the time that this might not be the most lucrative career choice. I now direct her attention to Ellen and Rosie, and almost wish that I'd stuck with it. Almost. In truth, other things occurred in my life that I would have missed if I were still standing up in that way instead of the way I stand up now.

Here are the things that I liked about doing stand-up:

1. People laughed.
2. I got to talk about very important, and sometimes, sensitive, issues in a way that people actually enjoyed.
3. It required a certain quality of presence and spontaneity that I utterly relished, and new material was always getting created via people who thought they were "heckling" me.

Here are the things that I didn't like about doing stand-up:

1. I attained a marginal level of "famousness", in which people on the street would greet me as if they knew me -- which, in a way, they did, because they had heard me talk about my personal life in very revealing ways -- but I didn't know them at all, and I was often uncertain, when they greeted me in very familiar ways, whether they were someone I actually knew. Awkward.
   
2. I found out that the minute the "powers-that-be" begin to recognize and appreciate your work for its originality, freshness and "edge", they generally want to hire you and then tell you how you "should" be doing your work -- which usually involves removing all hints and traces of originality, freshness, and "edge".
3. Traveling constantly did not really serve the "homebody" that was swiftly emerging in me during my late thirties/early forties.

I will say that none of this experience was wasted. My stint as a stand-up (heyday: 1988-1992, off-and-on dabbling 1992-1998) definitely equipped me with some essential skills that have served me well since I quit "trying" to be funny and just became funny (in both the ha-ha and theweird way). Namely:

• I'm hard to daunt/embarrass.
• I'm good with a crowd.
• I recognize that humor is a very good tool for examining issues that might otherwise be too painful to look at.
  
• I don't take myself too seriously.
• I recognize "hecklers" (aka trolls/asshats) as opportunities for entertainment and education rather than the disastrous, soul-crumbling, humiliating challenges that they would like to think they are.
• I laugh a lot.

And now -- Joni.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 11:54 PM 3 comments  

Labels: Fame, Humor, True Stories, Video

Because My Internet Friends Dared Me
Tuesday, January 1, 2008

(Oh, and if your internet friends jumped off a bridge, would you jump off a bridge, too?)

Posted byPortlyDyke at 8:47 PM 9 comments  

Labels: Fluff, Humor, Look How Clever I Am

Premature Cat Blogging
Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Posted byPortlyDyke at 10:19 PM 2 comments  

Labels: Cats, Funny Fluff, Humor, Video

A Portly True Christmas Story
Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Once upon a time, I knew this rather interesting lesbian couple.

They were both daughters of Christian preachers from very strict denominations (must be something in the communion wafers).

They were both very active politically -- they were leaders in the lesbian-community where I lived, espousing extremely progressive, queer-positive, feminist values, fighting all sorts of -isms in that hands-on way that I admire, and both were slightly older than I at a time when a few years seemed to make more difference than it does to me now.

One of them was what might be termed a "nice girl" -- a quality which can be very comforting and appealing, but which she had realized was actually only 25% natural to her -- the other 75% having resulted from ingrained cultural entrainment as a "preacher's kid".

Her therapist (we all had therapists in those days) had suggested that she start exercising the muscles of her "bad girl", in order to come into balance, and the therapist challenged her to do three "bad girl" things before the end of the year.

One of these "bad girl" things is the story I'm about to tell.

A few days before Christmas, Nice Girl approached me and my (then) lover and asked for our assistance in her current bad-girl project. She (preacher's kid) and her partner (also preacher's kid) had devised a scheme for bad-girl action, but they needed accomplices. My lover and I were both more of the 75% bad/25% nice-girl persuasion, so of course we said yes.

This was the plan:

She and her partner would dress in full angelic regalia (white chintz gowns, tinsel-wrapped halos, and gauzy wings), and we would drive around to various outdoor locations which they had already scouted, where we would perform bad-girl feminist "actions". They needed a driver (since their gowns were all flowy and shit and possibly gas-pedal impeding), and a photographer -- which is were my lover and I came in.

I volunteered to drive, since I'm fairly clueless with a camera.

Once it was fully dark on Christmas Eve, we set out in a foreign make compact station wagon, I at the wheel, my lover in the passenger seat, and the two angels crammed in the back, their wire halos bumping the ceiling, with their stash of "action" supplies awkwardly stacked between them. The two soon-to-be bad girls guided us through the streets to the proposed site of our first action -- a full on, nearly life-sized plastic creche arrangement on a well-lit front lawn.

I must say, I was a bit daunted. The house lights indicated that someone was probably home, and the lawn dazzled with lights of the twinkly/Christmasy persuasion in addition to a very prominent halogen streetlight on the corner of the property. As we passed, I slowed down in what I hoped would be a convincing mimicry of "just out to see the decorations", and then pulled down the block a bit, where I parked in the shadows.

In my best film-noir mode, I adjusted the rear-view so that I could see both of the angels in the back seat and said, authoritatively: "OK. Here's what we're going to do. We're going to circle the block again, and get a better look at whether they're home, and if so, whether they're in the front room or anywhere they can see us easily. If it's clear, you two jump out, do the action and get your asses back to the car. THEN we circle the block once more and if no one's on the lawn because they heard or saw us, we snap the photo. Got it?"

Peering into the rear-view, I saw Nice Girl's eyes widen in awe. "You've done this before . . . . "

Well, no, actually, not exactly this, but I had done things like this before. I bit my cheek to keep from laughing. She just looked so earnest.

We proceeded with the plan. Drove around the block. Two very jittery angels jump out, do the action, plummet back toward the vehicle, and jump in -- then we circle and get the picture. I think we hit about ten nativity scenes that night, including one on the street which was most infamous for its XDX (Xmas Decoration Xcess -- you know -- the street that every town/city has, whimsically called "Wonderland" or "Candy Cane Lane" or "Festival of Lights"?) .

And when we were through, this is the earth-shatteringly bad thing we had done:

We then retired to their cozy manse for hot-chocolate.

You're scared of me now, aren't you.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 1:23 AM 16 comments  

Labels: Humor, Queers, Religion, True Stories, Xtians