There's a lot of things I hear on a daily basis ("Maybe Wheat Thins aren't the most nourishing breakfast"; "Are you quoting Fat Albert again?"; "In fact, ma'am, it is illegal to do naked cartwheels on the legislative building lawn") but what I hear most often is that people want to be me.
Science, the bitchy, STD-laden mistress of the universe, has dictated that the only person can be me, and again, I'm the lucky one here because I'm me. The rest of you just have to settle for being like me. As I'm a bit of a complex person (a Cancer with Capricorn rising and Moon in Sagittarius in fact), this is hard - you can, however, partake in activities that I regularly enjoy. For example
Sounds gross, doesn't it? Oh, wait, no it doesn't - it sounds delicious. And that's cuz it is. I discovered this while making brownies or cookies or something traditional (read: boring yet tasty). It's much easier and it leaves your teeth with a delightful coated-in-crunchy/liquid-cavities sensation.
What's more satisfying then coming home from a stroll (okay, shuffle) through a snowstorm to a a warm, maybe even crackling, fire? Only wearing a fur coat while listening to Let's Get It On and ignoring all previous commitments. Unfortunately, you don't always have a snowstorm or a fireplace or even the ability to decipher crackling. This satisfaction must then be artificially simulated. But don't like the robotic mumbo-jumbo throw you - this can be just as fun. Basically, you have to begin with a forced coldness. You may do this how you wish; I get naked. Wander around, open a window, stand in front of the freezer. Yes, it's painful but hang in there. You cold yet? Good. Now wait, and retain your body's coldness. If you can, get even colder. You want to be cold to your core. When you're really and truly cold, then take a nice, warm bath.
It might not be the best way to befriend your hypothalamus, but it sure feels good.
Ahh...The Name Is Bootsy, Baby - Bootsy Collins
What do you hear around the 1:42-2:47 mark? My answer below to compare*.
See? Fun and educational and entertaining!
*Little boy: Hey, Leroy! There's a Bootsy right there!
Leroy: Where? I don't see him, where?
Little boy: Right over there!
Little boy: Right there....I, I wonder if we can ask him a question.
Little boy: I'm kinda scared...
Leroy: Aw, man, come on!
Little boy: Wow! Where did you hear that? [still indecipherable] Hey...hey...hey, Bootsy man (?) why your face like a star?
Bootsy: The name is Bootsy, baby, and the better to funk you, my dear.
Leroy: Casper...why we can't see you?
Bootsy: Ahh...I'm in the street cuz I lost my sheep...and I does not know where to find them.
Little boy: Hey, Bootsy...Bootsy...Bootsy....his eyes!! Oooh....they're like stars, too!
Leroy: I say, Bootsy, you're a superstar, right?
Bootsy: Ah, twinkle, twinkle, baby.
Leroy: Ha! I told ya, man.
Bootsy: Now, can I play?
Bootsy always pronounces baby "baba" - appreciate.
Frankly, I'm shocked that dressing up is considered "childish" or "silly" or "nonessential to human survival". Since, as I just mentioned, I've fortunate enough to have large amounts of spare time on my hands, dressing up is something I do quite often. The extent of dressing up varies, but some models I like to tackle are dressing up like a friend or someone you know, dressing up like your past self, dressing up like a celebrity, dressing up like a stereotype (as you can see, I personally enjoy costuming myself - in an incredibly loving and respectful manner - as a First Nations person) or dressing up as a character you yourself has created. For example, a long silk nightgown and a fur coat gives satisfying ex-wife-of-famous-movie-exec-who-is-eschewing-plastic surgery-because-she-just-doesn't-give-a-fuck-about-anything-except-her-martinis vibes.
This activity is rich in lol-possibilities. However, its important to note that this can be quite dangerous, as these magazines have a high danger level of brainwashing. If you are feeling fragile, searching for guidance or obsessively into a guy, I would recommend that these magazines are not for you. That being said, if you are secure with yourself and your ability to attract the gender you desire, reading these frivolous magazines can be fun in a combined watching-a-car-accident and laughing-at-idiocy manner. It can also be a little bit infuriating, but I would advise that you take that anger and turn it into mockery.
For example, according to Cosmopolitan, I should not know more about sports than my beau. This demasculates him. If I do happen to know more than him (freak of nature that I must be), I should keep this secret and play along like he is the Wise Sportsmaster of the Mountaintop. Yes, Cosmo, forget honesty and equality - let's just stroke some egos and con our men into staying with us. And while we're at it, why don't you show us the right way to stroke some tangible appendages? Because we must be doing it wrong if we're not doing it the COSMO! way.
Also, I don't feel I know myself well enough; can I please take a COSMO! quiz so you can shuffle me into one of three categories?
Irritating but not as harmful are the articles about the cover women, because they all say the exact same thing: OMG, guys, _______ isn't your typical Hollywood starlet!! She's honest, funny, nice and she actually eats!......just like every other FUN FEARLESS FEMALE!! featured in Cosmopolitain.
In my mind, the worst thing Cosmopolitan (and similar magazines) does it perpetrate the stereotype that all men think alike. For example, did you know that if a men half-smiles at you when you meet him it means he only wants no-strings-attached sex? Forget the 817 other reasons he might be half-smiling; this relationship will never be anything but a one night stand. All that garnered from a half-smile?
It's sad for women who take this seriously, but their loss is your gain. Get a magazine like this from the library (so you're not putting money into their pockets) and enjoy the stupid advice women are actually following. And we wonder why travesties like this exist?
Anyway, I hope you enjoy livin' Ashcan Rantings every now and then - I know I do!