Natalie Jonas Lewendon has a Bachelor of Arts in English & Journalism and two beautiful bicycles. She lives in south London, works in broadcast transcription, and tries to call her parents every fortnight or so.
The tuna salad sits dormant on the table - untouched. Your mother made it, a family BBQ favourite, but that was years ago. The alcohol abuse came after the divorce, then came the dementia. The dish now tasted rejected, despised, worthless; as despondent as the air (a guilty uncle laughs). The air; dormant in the lungs of the silent victim. The air of what should be an afternoon of love and happiness but never will be. Not anymore. Not for you.
Years late you peel back the tin lid to pour the rancid brine into the sink of your filthy overpriced studio apartment; the sharp edges unravel the suicidal thoughts. They manifest as you drain: “It will look like an accident; no-one will suspect anything”. But you haven’t the energy, you haven’t the courage. Then the tears, they fall, they mix with the flavours: Lemon Pepper, Sweet Chilli; it’s all so fucking depressing. You don’t want either, but you have to choose one to give your worthless, wrong-side-of-30 body the energy it needs to face another miserable day, fighting not for your dreams, but against the endless demons of regret.
You place the canned tuna sandwich in your sale-price Tatonka backpack - the irony of carrying your Fitness First bag on the shoulder of what you have let your body become is too painful to bear - and you make your way to the station for the air-conditionless summer peak hour transit. You force your eyes shut, the heat brings a delirium and the tuna re-assembles itself in a sepia day dream. The tuna-fish speaks with death bed cadence: “They make films about adorable pigs, people make stuffed toys that are lambs, chickens, ducks - no-one ever wants to hug a tuna; to hold a tuna. There are no more fish in this sea”
The train enters a tunnel, the daydream fades. You weep, gently; a coward.
Perhaps the essence of the Liberal outlook could be summed up in a new decalogue, not intended to replace the old one but only to supplement it. The Ten Commandments that, as a teacher, I should wish to promulgate, might be set forth as follows:
1. Do not feel absolutely certain of anything.
2. Do not think it worth while to proceed by concealing evidence, for the evidence is sure to come to light.
3. Never try to discourage thinking for you are sure to succeed.
4. When you meet with opposition, even if it should be from your husband or your children, endeavor to overcome it by argument and not by authority, for a victory dependent upon authority is unreal and illusory.
5. Have no respect for the authority of others, for there are always contrary authorities to be found.6. Do not use power to suppress opinions you think pernicious, for if you do the opinions will suppress you.
7. Do not fear to be eccentric in opinion, for every opinion now accepted was once eccentric.
8. Find more pleasure in intelligent dissent than in passive agreement, for, if you value intelligence as you should, the former implies a deeper agreement than the latter.
9. Be scrupulously truthful, even if the truth is inconvenient, for it is more inconvenient when you try to conceal it.
10. Do not feel envious of the happiness of those who live in a fool’s paradise, for only a fool will think that it is happiness.
Bertrand Russell’s A Liberal Decalogue
number 1 reason birth control should be available to whoever no matter what:
- juno would probably have never been made
Today, March 14, is Steak and Blow Job Day. If you didn’t know that already, I pity you. But don’t worry, I won’t leave you in the dark: Steak and Blow Job Day is an American tradition, a day when straight guys can escape the tyranny of feminist constructs like Valentine’s Day.
Traditionally Steak and Blow Job Day is a day when millions of straight guys get together to suck each other’s dicks with steak in their mouths.
Society may say that it’s wrong for millions of straight men to break free from their macho straitjackets to enjoy succulent, meaty oral sex for 24 hours. But society doesn’t understand how exhausting it is for us to project an image of stultifying heteronormativity at all times. That’s why society doesn’t understand a bunch of cute, straight guys in hilarious T-shirts taking ONE DAY out of the year to say, “Hey man, good job. Wanna put your penis in my mouth? It’ll go real well with that steak that’s in there already.”
For years, the world has had to stand back and tolerate the carnival of male oppression known as “marriage” that women use to keep us face-down in the dirt. It’s a sad fact that Planet Earth has forgotten about the straight man. It’s a niche world, my friend, and what with all the gays, and the women, and the animals vying for attention, the straight man is being ignored.
That in mind, I’ve put together a list of other majority celebration days that I think we could all wish into existence if we close our eyes and concentrate really, really hard. After all, if a straight man can win the right to eat meat and receive oral sex, anything’s possible.WHITE HISTORY MONTH
Slavery this, emancipation that. Why is everyone so fixated on black history these days? White history is so much less stressful. Did you guys know, for instance, that in 1750, white people were mostly totally fine? And that, in 1256, white people were also mostly totally fine? But I suppose, oh, we can’t celebrate that because NWA didn’t write a song about it.
STRAIGHT PRIDE MARCH
If the gays don’t want to suck my dick on Steak and Blow Job Day, then frankly they don’t deserve their own festival. Let’s cancel Gay Pride and get some hetero dick sucking going on instead.INTERNATIONAL DAY OF PEOPLE WHO AREN’T DISABLED
You guys know how much tax money has been used in the last 50 years to make public spaces and buildings more accessible to non-disabled people? NONE, that’s how much. So why, after demanding ramps in maybe 5 percent of Western buildings, do disabled guys ALSO get a whole international day to themselves? Let’s reclaim it for able-bodied people everywhere.
WORLD HAVEN’T-GOT-CANCER DAY
Do I have cancer? No! Do you have cancer? No! So let’s have a party! I never understood why anyone would want to celebrate cancer, anyway. At least not for 24 whole hours.
HOLOCAUST FORGETTING DAY
Imagine if people could just forget this whole thing even happened. Meeting German people wouldn’t be nearly as awkward.
INTERNATIONAL DAY FOR CHILDREN WITH HOMES
Let’s take a minute to think about all the children suffering in their homes.
WORLD HIV NEGATIVE DAY
How about we start a day to celebrate people who’re going to live long enough to be grateful.
WORLD ENDANGERING ANIMALS DAY
For one day we will eat animals. We will hunt animals. We will have a party. We will have fun. We will feel free.
WORLD MENTALLY STABLE DAY
Mentally stable people are the backbone of our society, and it’s nuts to suggest otherwise.PS: If you already knew it was Steak and Blowjob Day, odds are, you’re a prick. Happy prick day, you prick.
t.u.m.b.l.r. actually stands for the types of posts you can use!(:
Text
Phouto
M‘Quote
Libnk
Chalt
Aurdio
(Video.)
dont know what to eat??? a potato!!!
Outdoor scenes focusing on the archetecture from Disney’s 1961 animated film, “101 Dalmatians”.
yes good
was discussing w/ eva the other day how beautifully drawn this movie actually was
HELLO, AND WELCOME TO PLANNED PARENTHOOD, YOU SLUTTY SLUT. WHAT’S THE PROBLEM TODAY? YOU WANT A SLUTTY MAMMOGRAM TO DETERMINE WHETHER OR NOT YOU’VE GOT SLUTTY BREAST CANCER? JUST KIDDING, OF COURSE. YOU’RE HERE FOR AN ABORTION BECAUSE NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES IT’S MATHEMATICALLY PROVEN THAT LESS THAN FIVE PERCENT OF OUR TOTAL PROCEDURES ARE ABORTION, EVERYONE STILL BELIEVES THAT ALL WE DO IS GET RID OF YOU AND YOUR ARMY OF HIPPIE BOYFRIENDS’ SLUTTY MISTAKES, YOU BIG OLD SLUT, YOU.
SLUTEVER, AM I RIGHT? TAKE A SEAT OVER THERE AND WE’LL SEND SOMEONE OUT TO DO A PROVOCATIVE SEX DANCE BEFORE WE GIVE YOU SOME NUDIE MAGS AND NIPPLE TASSELS. I HOPE YOU DON’T HAVE ANY LEGITIMATE HEALTH ISSUES BECAUSE THAT WOULD RUIN OUR NONSTOP SLUT PARTY.
NEXT, PLEASE.
But I wish I could effectively reblog that person who just reblogged my comment about Tao Lin’s reading with some quote about how hating Thought Catalog is mean, fashionable, and reactionary. Having a negative opinion is not mean, especially if you can back your shit up. I don’t dislike Thought…
[Image description: a Twitter update from a user whose name is illegible. The update reads, “fair enough being like 70 and homophobic because you’re just not used to it but if you’re below 60 and homophobic you’re obviously a cunt”
End description.]
People who think well, write well. Woolly-minded people write woolly memos, woolly letters and woolly speeches.
CLUE 1:
“went to short dogs house,
they was watching Yo MTV
RAPS”
Yo MTV RAPS first aired:
Aug 6th 1988
CLUE 2:
Ice Cubes single “today was a good day” released on:
Feb 23 1993
CLUE 3:
”The Lakers beat the Super
Sonics”
Dates between Yo MTV Raps air date AUGUST 6 1988 and the release…
I’m not a member of the “roadie” sub-culture, nor do I particularly wish to be (some of the rules are funny, some are sage, many are totally ridiculous), but it made me realize that I have formed my own set of rules after several years of cycling in London. Some of my own, some are adapted from…
smile indulgently like this doesn’t happen to you very often, maybe roll your eyes
toes inwards
make sure we can see the massive bag you’re schlepping about
aaaaaand LOOK OVER IT
this morning I woke up and my housemate had left her gym ball on the landing
i opened my door and it was just there, waiting for me
i thought i was in the prisoner
and it had come to take me back to portmeirion
pluto is obviously a planet because sailor pluto
Are you implying that the moon was also a planet?
- Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
- Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
- Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
- Every sentence must do one of two things — reveal…