As far the post title goes, it's a good thing the gentleman's role is taken.
Also, I imagine you would have denied sex taking place whether or not it did.
We walked around before dinner, because we were early, and we walked around after, because there were lots of people about, and it was fun. Yeah, great planning on my part.
Hey, it could have been planned.
Expect you? To have sex?? You???
No way, dude.
I'll have to transfer my vicarious attentions back to Paris and Paris, I guess.
But yes, I do feel cheated. Wasn't there an implied contract involved here? Weren't hopes raised, with no attention of ever satisfying them? My trust in people has been wounded one more time.
On a related note, they say that pandas in zoos refuse to breed because of all the people watching. Aren't they being a bit oversensitive?
Especially considering all the money people spent on habitat protection, etc. You'd think they'd feel obligated to give something back.
In my experience, 3d really is much better. Plus you get the movement aspect, so it's really a 4d encounter. A much richer set of stimuli, to be sure.
Grounds for w-lfs-nian reflection:
Would a 30-second .mpg preview of Profgrrl have counted as "three-dimensional"? Normally we think of height, width, and depth as a set of three indisociable dimensions, without really taking full account of the fact that time counts as a fourth dimension. Would calling an .mpg clip three-dimensional be misleading, even if literally true (i.e., it has the dimensions of height, width, and time, but no depth)?
If this were an accepted usage (and modern physics provides no grounds for rejecting it out of hand), then would Ogged have had to specify "there's no substitute for three spatial dimensions when one wishes to oggle a woman's tits"?
modern physics provides no grounds for rejecting it out of hand
But common (and even uncommon) usage does, I think. I'd need to see an example of people using "three dimensional" to mean any three dimensions, and not the specific three spatial dimensions that we normally intend.
But if we don't care about that usage, we can go even further. Memory includes the dimension of time, so even a two-dimensional photograph, when recalled, could be called three-dimensional, no?
And I have to give credit to w-lfs-n for having managed to get himself internalized by almost everyone who comments here (Michael has somehow held out). His power is now greater than it ever could have been if he were merely acting "alone:" we now attribute all our own neuroses and powers of critical self-correction to Ben.
"w-lfs-n" names not a discrete individual, but a particular style of thought.
Also, given the discoveries of string theory, my proposed convention of referring to any three dimensions as "three-dimensional" opens up onto a vast abyss -- I could refer to anything as 9-dimensional and people would have no idea which "normal" dimensions I wished to include. I withdraw my suggestion.
oggle a woman's tits
The word is spelled "ogle", but given the agent involved, I find this spelling acceptable.
"w-lfs-n" names not a discrete individual, but a particular style of thought.
So young, and already I have a school! I guess I should retire before the next generation repudiates me.
You're young enough that you could live to see the following generation rediscover you.
Also, ogged, you want that colon outside the quotation marks in "alone:", and you never told us, did you get her home by nine?
we now attribute all our own neuroses and powers of critical self-correction to Ben.
Classically, this is the first step in making Ben a scapegoat. Soon, we will attribute all of society's ills to Ben; then, we will decide that we must sacrifice Ben for the good of the community. Shortly thereafter, there will be screams and a blood offering, and order will be restored.
so the fact that she hasn't posted doesn't mean I have her locked in a trunk
That didn't occur to me until you mentioned it, Ogged...
Now let PG out!
DE, don't I at least get to be consort to a goddess for a year or so?
I like that ogged refused to be recorded on the mp3 (oggedcast?) over at PG's place. Truly a man (waif? naif? knave?) of mystery. The report is strangely lacking in pertinent details (what famous person does she look like, describe personality as predictable high school archetype, etc.) though. If it's to protect the privacy, etc. of the people involved, totally understandable. If it's sheer laziness, less so.
Suggestion: link to one of Profgrrl's pictures of her bustline, then get us salivating by saying they're even better in 3(or 4)d. Perhaps you could even include the image directly on this page, for maximum titilation.
Yes, we demand maximum titilation.
I'm here! I'm at the gate! I'm alive! I'm trying to blog it right now ....
But if you look at PG's blog, with nary a post-date date mention, it looks like one big "if you dont' have anything nice to say."
Celebrity? High school? Man, I don't know. I'm not sure PG is a type. I think the bit about people offering her jobs out of the blue is key. She seems to do her thing and give people the impression that she's basically decent, competent, and friendly.
I just blogged it. Was taking a while because my father is calling every 5 minutes to make sure I have my passport, know how I'm getting to my hotel, don't plan to eat from street vendors, etc.
Wow. She seems to be seething with distaste for you.
"Cute?" "Friendly eyes??" No no, "bad motherfucking superhero!" Come on, I'm working on an image here.
Most bloggers are seething with something or other.
If you or someone you love is seething, call your local health center to get an STD test.
Bad motherfucking superheroes don't spend a day in histrionics about what the appropriate pair of pants to wear on a first date might be.
If I understand the discussions held last week, apparently bad motherfucking superheros go on the first date pantless, then later use their powers to summon the appropriate pants backward in time.
Sorry, I meant "bad motherfucking superhero blogger."
Damn. Do I really have to edit it again????
I'm curious, the title of this post being quite bold, did you plan it out together beforehand?
don't I at least get to be consort to a goddess for a year or so?
Only if you consent to having your heart ripped out of your living body. Otherwise, it's a blow-up doll for the evening.
Only if you consent to having your heart ripped out of your living body.
Its called divorce in modern english. Go with the goddess Ben.
Michael, I had the same thought, obviously can't help you with an answer though.
Its called divorce in modern english.
Here in SunnySoCal, we call it "dissolution", which has always struck me as something one does by introducing solids to liquids.
Then again, drowning my ex-husband would probably have been less expensive...
When Ben is strapped down to that altar and his beating heart is wrenched from his sundered chest, he will remember that you advised him that a year of consorting with a female deity would be worth the agony.
With his dying breath, he will curse your seed unto the nth generation.
[Ogged, on the other hand, will still ask you for advice re: his trousers.]
it occurs to me, that much depends on the ummm quality of the deity.
Statistically, it is likely to happen in anycase.
Isn't there a case to be made for ecstasy, followed by the agony of a quick death (lets assume the heart ripping ceremony doesn't take too long, shall we - I'm not imagining a divorce court in this instance) as being preferable to the slow roasting of the soul over the cold fire of purgatory-after-love?
With his dying breath, he will curse your seed unto the nth generation.
Does thew curse come with a copy of Fowlers Usage?
Come on, I'm working on an image here.
Ogged, Ogged, Ogged - has no one explained the Laws of Attraction and Repulsion to you? [Well, OK, that has more to do with binary stars and magnetism and Immanuel Kant, but take it as a metaphor.]
Many girls [and grrrrls] like bad boys. We find them attractive. And cute. "Cute" is not bad. "Cute" does not preclude "bad motherfucking superhero [blogger]". "Cute" does not mean that you aren't mad, bad and dangerous to know. FTM, "cute" does not preclude sociopathic serial killer. Ted Bundy probably had "friendly eyes".
[Come to think of it: How do we know that PG is really blogging? What if Ogged plied her with wine until she revealed her passwords and is, even now, drafting posts to trick us all into believing she is travelling, whilst Ogged has her chained to the bedpost in his evil lair, vulnerable and subject to his unnatural lusts? What if he is inhumanely forcing her to choose all of his clothes?
What if he is feeding her nothing but Burger King whilst crooning I love Paris?]
Isn't there a case to be made for ecstasy, followed by the agony of a quick death...
I'm not sure being disencardiated by priest[esse]s intent on purging society of its sins is all that quick. One imagines that a certain amount of suffering would be in order, with attendant shrieking.
as being preferable to the slow roasting of the soul over the cold fire of purgatory-after-love?
IMX, one braises souls, lest they end up dry and somewhat too chewy. I prefer a Merlot/demi-glace combination, tho' a robust soul can tolerate a simple ale-and-stock mixture.
I would have thought of souls as being like, well, sole. Requiring only light cooking, and delicate handling less the soul-substance tear.
Souls of moral monsters may require braising, while those of spiritual misers are so hard and withered they're suitable only for flavoring as in soups, stocks or stews, to be removed at the end, the lingering traces noted questioningly: is there a bit of ... here?
And that reminds me of the Tom Lehrer song:
"... you hold my heart in your hand, dear..."
DE.. Good British Bulldog-souls would be wasted on the Merlot. Beer and Carrots for mine and then baked in Blätterteig is the thing. Your pallate would of course be demanding the fresher souls available in the youth culture there. Mine would, I fear be leathery AND stringy even after braising and baking.
This thread has just solved my long standing confusion on what exactly "Soul Food" refers to.
and delicate handling less the soul-substance tear.
And just how delicate do you think your soul would be after a year consorting with, say, Ishtar?
Consorting is a high-adrenalin sport.
then baked in Blätterteig is the thing.
A little pâté and poof, there's Soul Wellington...
And with that in mind, I'm off to warm up the flesh of a deceased bovine braised in fermented grape juice with root vegetables for the Biophysicist's dinner...
I have sought, but only found all answers, here.
I hold a heart in my hand, but not w-lfs-n's. Much too small, I should think. (Kitty, reclining in fuzzy orange guitar case, is eyeing it.)
Re: souls. I though barbeque or roasting were the traditional methods? (Especially for this heathen crowd.)
Oh Goddess, may you have parsley on my soul!
title of this post being quite bold, did you plan it out together beforehand?
Come on, what am I? Cute? (PG's suggestion was that we each post "We had a very nice evening" and disable comments.)
And just how delicate do you think your soul would be after a year consorting with, say, Ishtar?
I haven't seen it, but I hear it's really bad, so I imagine a year watching it over and over would do unkind things to one's soul.
Come on, what am I? Cute?
I picture you as a sloe-eyed minx, pinky held coquetteishly between your full, pursed lips.
And here I had you pegged for a rugged piece of rawhide, 200 pounds of sheer brawn poured into the body of a chiseled god, hands chapped from years spent hewing the mighty oak from the primeval forest...
I though barbeque or roasting were the traditional methods?
That's before there were all those silly EPA regulations about bonfires. And before so many souls became tough and leathery after spending far too much time watching American Idol.
And here I had you pegged for a rugged piece of rawhide
You think Kotsko is a chew toy? Just how big is your dog?
That's before there were all those silly EPA regulations about bonfires.
Now, curing, smoking and air drying on a hook in a tyrolean barn would render the most monstrous soul edible as soul-jerky. Just saw or tear off a lump as required and chew. If finely cured, Rucola and lemon juice might be a good serving suggestion.
So, DE, are you what you eat?
So oggged, can we take it you're repudiating this?
By 'this' I mean the not get along in real life, not the marriage proposal.
I am, cw. I was pleasantly surprised on that score (not that I'm about to propose to PG).
So, DE, are you what you eat?
I hope not. If so, I'm presently a good sharp cheddar and an apple...
"To eat is a necessity, but to eat intelligently is an art." -- La Rochefoucauld
"Tell me what you eat and I'll tell you who you are." -- Brillat-Savarin
Big props to you both for this. I'm a total girly-man about seeing people IRL that I've known on-line even if it's been a matter of years-long corresponding and blog-debating and shit. So far every single IRL meeting I've had has been a total delight, and yet I'm still nervous. Possibly because, as a recent cross-blog discussion I got involved in indicates, some people who keep blogs are fucking batshit insane but if I had to pick two people I was sure weren't batshit insane, it would be PG and Ogged. So...sweet. Good feelings reading this.
At the risk of drawing John Bruce's ire, I'd just like to say that he has a blog on which there are posts.
Tim B, you know that Drezner hasn't commented on this thread yet, right?
not that I'm about to propose to PG
... again. What do they say, once burnt twice shy?
:...What do they say, once burnt twice shy?"
I tend to stick with "once burnt, owwwwww!," myself, but I lack imagination.
There is much to be said about expectations being raised to false heights and the letdown that might ensue, but really, don't you think more gushing is in order?
Gushing? On a first date? Really, Tripp.
Perhaps Ogged was too wrapped up in thoughts of his pants to gush and/or experience existential crisis.
Ogged,
How did PG introduce you to her father? Was it: "This is a guy I met online."?
To people familiar with this blog, it makes perfect sense that you two would go out on a date, both because joking suggestions are always funnier when you go through with them and because most everyone who participates on this blog seems cut from pretty similar social cloth. But I would imagine that would be something that would be very hard to communicate to her father, especially since she obviously doesn't want to let her family know about her blog.
Did she find some way to describe the date that didn't make it sound like she spends her time trolling for dates on chatrooms?
pjs, we talked about that; apparently, it wasn't so easy to explain to the 'rents just how the hell she knew me and felt confident that I wasn't a psycho. I can't remember if she said that she'd explained to them about blogs, but the gist of her explanation had been that we discuss things online. She didn't explain everything we discuss, nor give a particularly faithful account of areas of emphasis, but she told them that we talk about social issues and politics, I think.
ogged,
Gushing? On a first date? Really, Tripp.
No, no, not gushing while on the date. We both know how wrong that is.
I meant gushing in your blog entry. Granted it will be read by Profgrrrrl, and you want to play it cool, but, I dunno. My hunch is that a paragraph of gushing would be well-received.
Besides, you know that I am living vicariously through your dating life, sad as that is, so throw me a bone here.
At the etc.