Literate Perversions

Can We Actually Ban Small, Yappy Dogs?

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Being as I write for a dog blog and actually get paid for it, I hope it doesn’t make me a bad person that part of me wishes that this headline were actually real. More to the point, I hope that I don’t wind up unemployed. Or more unemployed than I already am. I love dogs, really, but the small, yappy ones sometimes make me want to use them for practice on a trebuchet.

When you make your trebuchet out of Lego bricks, it’s even better. [media-credit]By: Paul Albertella[/media-credit]

SASKATOON – While bans on pitbulls are increasingly common, Saskatoon has become the first city in the world to ban dogs under 5 pounds (2.27 kg) because they are “noisy, annoying and not really dogs.”

In a split-vote decision, City Council passed the by-law to shut the city gates to a long list of dogs that are commonly referred to as “Purse Dogs” because they fit in a handbag, or “Dinky Doo Doo Doggies” because their pooies are the size of Raisinettes.

— The Alpine, Saskatoon Bans “Shitty Little Yappy” Dogs

Poe’s Law, As Applied to Breastfeeding

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Woman Breastfeeding Baby. Her breast is pixellated with a giant caption: Bottle Not Boobs

Bottles Not Boobs

It actually did take me a few minutes to figure out whether this was real or fake, which shows you just how solid Poe’s Law really is, when you apply it to real life. For the record, it is a parody, taken from the Facebook page of a group called Christians for Michele Bachmann. Naturally, that’s another factor against me: Bachmann herself has intentionally taken enough stands that were totally out there that it’s not entirely beyond the scope of reason that this might actually be from her, or a group supporting her.

However, Christians for Michele Bachmann is way too honest about the things that she’s actually said in real life. For instance:

Transcript
There are also quiet a few people, left and right, who have really weird obsessions about women who breast-feed in public. All that said, I’m relieved that it’s a parody, although I do kinda love the term “sinbags.”

A More Realistic Version of Google Circles

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I’m gradually falling in love with Google Plus, at least until they figure out a way to fuck it up entirely or use it to control my brain somehow. Until then, the folks at HappyPlace.Com have been kind enough to provide a few suggestions for Circles that actually reflect the reality of my everyday life  The “Complete strangers I’d sleep with” circle is likely to become shamefully full.

More realistic Google Circles

 

Fifty Ways to Say You're an Atheist

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At ScienceBlogs, grrrlscientist has put up a great list of the Top Fifty Atheist T-Shirt and Bumper Sticker Aphorisms, and unlike most lists like this, it really lives up to its name. Some of my faves:

1. Abstinence Makes the Church Grow Fondlers.

4. Too Stupid to Understand Science? Try Religion.

5. There’s A REASON Why Atheists Don’t Fly Planes Into Buildings

16. Jesus is Coming? Don’t Swallow That.

22. When the Rapture Comes, We’ll Get Our Country Back!

27. “Intelligent Design” Helping Stupid People Feel Smart Since 1987

28. I Found God Between The Sheets

32. If God Wanted People to Believe in Him, Then Why Did He Invent Logic?

33. Praying Is Politically Correct Schizophrenia

38. If we were made in his image, when why aren’t humans invisible too?

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Now playing: The Dresden Dolls – Dirty Business

A Geography Lesson

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This might not be, as the caption implies, how all Americans view the world — I at least can hold out that much hope for my country — but it’s a pretty damn accurate portrait of how those who own the country see it.

 

The World According to Americans

(Pic found on Demonbaby.com, via the almighty Echidne.)

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Now playing: Television – Little Johnny Jewel

Welcome to the Dungeon

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Untitled document What happens when you're a sex worker awaiting a new client, and two gay-looking guys with bibles show up to save your soul?  Mistress Matisse describes it for you:

And then as my eyes adjusted from the relative dimness of the house to the glare of the sun, I got a good look at them. Two young white men, rather slim, wearing dark slacks and long-sleeved white shirts and neckties. And gold name badges.

Holy shit, it’s a pair of Mormons!

I was standing there wearing: a very short (like, it barely covers my butt), very tight, black spaghetti-strap PVC dress that gives me tons of cleavage, a waist cincher, thigh-high shiny black high-heeled boots, my hair teased up like mad, and vampire-red lipstick. And there were these two Mormon boys, who look just barely old enough to shave, clutching their notebooks in perspiring palms, looking back at me. I must have looked like either their wet dream or their worst nightmare, depending in how devout they were.

We stared at each other in mutual confusion for an instant. And then I came to my senses and said, “Oh! Oh, no, no – go away please!” and closed the door swiftly.

It was half hilarious and half mortifying. I imagined them walking away from my house, shaking their heads and jotting down a note next to my address: Hell-bound floozy lives here. Clearly beyond any hope of salvation.

I love fucking with Mormons and other religous fanatics out to save me from hell. Oh, to have been a fly on that wall.