True Porn Clerk Stories (entirely work safe, except for your inevitable uncontrollable snickering) – I remember reading this a couple of years back, and laughing my head off. A couple of years (and a few more inches round the waist) later, I’ve forgotten enough of the stories to have a good laugh off of them again. The writer is a First Amendment Feminist (women are equal to men, and adults are allowed to do what they like) who works in a video store renting porn. It’s ripe with situational humour. She’s a terribly intelligent woman, stuck in a job where her customers are either ashamed or sub-intelligent, rather like having Virginia Woolf collect the toll for an S&M cabaret (we can do without the streams-of-consciousness for that, Ms Woolf).
You know you can’t resist visiting a blog with a name like that, O Pokemon Hentai fans!
I think the reason straight guys like enormous schlongs, apart from the whole bigger = more powerful and more potent thing, is that it’s an easy answer to Freud’s unanswerable question: what do women want? The real answer is too hard. Women want you to be independent but emotionally available. They want you to be attached but not smothering. They want time and attention, and also some time alone. They want you to grow and change with them. They want you to be all kinds of things, and it’s going to be a different list for every woman, and that list is always subject to change without notice. For some men, and many of my regular porn addicts, I think, fall into this category, the answer is that women want you to change that glaring personality flaw and learn to talk to them like a human being. Maybe they want you to take a frigging shower.
The other way is so much easier. What do women want? Enormous, glistening cocks. If you’ve got one, great, your job is done. No need to worry about anything else. If you don’t, well, then if women don’t like you it’s not your fault.
My friends who think I have a terrible job should read this for an idea of what a terrible job really is. And she explains a little why it is I don’t mind working late hours for a meager salary – it’s just cooler to be stuck in a terrible job than to be a suit, an act of defiance that says I WON’T join the rat race, even if it means I work in a Starbucks, wear an apron and ahve to call twelve year olds “Sir” (see the New York article on grups, or read Waiter Rant for more yuppie-contempt).
Sid and Laskar – a tragic strip has only a single joke, and will get old really quick but it’s meaningful and rather amazing how much pseudo-philosophy-psychology you can squeeze into three panes. Visit it just the once and go through a few comics – I’ve never laughed so hard because of grass (possibly because I’ve never taken it).
The Comics Curmudgeon is a meta-entertainment site, which rides on the fact that newspaper comics these days are just not very funny anymore. When was the last time Charlie Brown made you laugh? (Not in a maniacal, I-Want-To-Kill-That-Dog kind of laugh) You’ll even recognize some of the comics published in Singapore’s papers (given that you bother to read the comics). Dreadfully dull-sounding panels about Rex Morgan, M.D. and Apartment 3G (not in an IT way) are injected with a fresh breath of humour. Meta-humour! Derrida would be so proud.