Just Cranked This One Out

Well Summer’s here and the time is right
For dancing in the street
But it’s hard to even stand on my own two feet
Getting out of bed to start the day

Cuz I’m overworked
Underpaid
Out of luck
Not getting laid

Yeah, I’m overworked
Underpaid
Out of luck
Not getting laid


I once had a guy, at least I think I did.
But he left town with the highest bidder
And I’m just sittin here trying not to feel bitter
Crying in my beer

Cuz I’m overworked
Underpaid
Out of luck
Not getting laid

Yeah, I’m overworked
Underpaid
Out of luck
Not getting laid


Well maybe tomorrow I’ll go for a walk
Get out and enjoy the weather
Yeah, maybe tomorrow things will get better
Cuz they can’t get any worse

Cuz I’m overworked
Underpaid
Out of luck
Not getting laid

Yeah, I’m overworked
Underpaid
Out of luck
Not getting laid

insanity! master and margarita for the new russia????

Palazzo Pitti

Princess PePe

In Her Pity Palace.

Ugh, Sing it Sister

Dusky Brethren

It's all fun and games til someone gets hurt: images from the bundesarchiv

Glaube, Shonheit, und Accordion

look at these fraternizing french slutzz. Enjoy those beaches while you can, suckers!

The princess and the pauper: How the other half lives

Chastity Belts Redux

I wrote some blurbs for my chastity belts as if they were appearing in a mail order catalog. I hope to one day be this good:
http://jpeterman.com/product~cat~110211~sku~WSL%201434.asp

The Desperate Housewife
That old clunker “I have a head ache” isn’t convincing anyone. Say it with flowers with our best selling “Desperate Housewife” chastity belt. Sex is nasty. Keep your private parts safe and pretty with the customizable mini vase. Fill it with a sweet smelling bouquet of your favorite blooms. Stay fresh whether in the home, running errands or at the country club!

The Biohazard
Everyone knows that abstinence is the only true way to avoid VD. Our ruggedly utilitarian “Biohazard” offers surefire protection against everything from AIDS, to genital warts, to that pesky unwanted pregnancy. Next time he wants to wrap it up, tell him “I already have.”

The Burqa
Luscious lips, Sparkling eyes, a shapely ass, a nice rack. A woman’s body is a virtual minefield of sexual temptation. For those looking for more complete coverage, our full-body “Burqa” belt does the trick. Thick metal walls and a deadbolt defend against oglers and other prying eyes.

The Miley Cyrus
Don’t let your budding starlet end up another Britney, Paris, or Lindsey. Teach her that true love waits with our fun and youthful “Miley” belt. For those times when faith just isn’t enough, the “Miley” can only be unlocked by those magic words “I do.”

The Penis Envy
Don’t take chances when it comes to protecting your most valuable asset. Instead, take the law into your own hands, or thighs, with the fully automatic “Penis Envy” Chastity belt. Gives new meaning to the battle of the sexes! Available in handgun, AK 47, or rocket launcher.

The Climate of Fear
They say pleasure is pain, but it can also be a pain, which is why we developed the new “Climate of Fear.” Bring the excitement and sexual modesty of the Middle East to the home front, and see how it feels to be a prisoner of love with this tortuously effective belt!

The Yearning for Zion
The early bird gets the worm. Stake your claim early at the compound with the fully adjustable multiple capacity “Yearning for Zion” belt. Expandable components to accommodate your growing family!

Messy Eaters

you only tell the truth when you're drunk

I met you in a bar down San Francisco way
You said you seen me coming from a quarter mile away
On account of my smile and the way it shone
And I wish there was a way I could have known
You only tell the truth when you’ve had a drink or two
But by then you’d caught me like the flu.

It was after several beers and a couple shots of whiskey
You had your arm around me; you were getting kind of frisky.
You said I weren’t good looking by a long shot
But something bout the full moon got you all hot
And you figured that I’d be an easy lay
I guess I just admired your honesty

Well, that fateful night in Frisco
Was about three of your kids ago
Now I cut hair and you sell cars
And the money don’t go very far
And its hard for me to keep standing’ my man
When you say you wish I’d been a one-night-stand

Yeah, you talk shit that you don’t mean
So. I just get down that old Jim Beam
Pour my babe a shot or three
And soon enough you’re loving’ me
Saying without me your world would end
I’m your love, your life and your best friend

Well people say a lot of things
And who can tell which ones they mean
But I’ve got a lie detector test
To test whatever you confess
And you best believe it’s a hundred proof
I’m drunk off you and that’s truth

But you only tell the truth when you’re drunk
You only tell the truth when you’re drunk

P>S>GAY/P>S>HAZE

PROBABLY THAT GUY WITH THE BEARD AND OVERALLS

IF YOU GOT THIS:
A) YOU ARE A NARC
B) YOU ARE ON URBANDICTIONARY.COM
C) YOU ARE A HEP CAT AT A BEBOP HAPPENING
D) YOU ARE IN A POORLY SCRIPTED NOIR HEIST FILM
E) ALL OF THE ABOVE

What It Is

Chastity Belts for the Woman of Today

The Desperate House Wife

The Biohazard

The Burqa

The Miley Cyrus

The Penis Envy

The Climate of Fear

The Yearning for Zion

But Herr Doktor, vat is dis vord, "degenerate?"

Liberal Vampires vs. Conservative Vampires

These days, I can't even relax with a beer and enjoy some hot vampires without having to rip apart bodice ripping for its underlying sexual politics. America's moral crisis has found a platform in the recent spate of vampire inspired media, most notably in HBO's "True Blood" and the teeny bopper phantasmagoria of "Twilight." Vampires have traditionally served as a moralizing metaphor for the seductive danger of the sexually exotic, and both True Blood and Twilight exploit this fully, but to very different ends. Both borrow heavily from each other in terms of characterizing the psychological and practical difficulties of human-vampire inter-dating. Both equate fangs and boners in a hilarious visual pun. Both share the strange conception that "good" vampires dress like they are working in a trendy graphic design firm, while "bad" vampires dress like extras in some horrible pop-rock music video. But costuming aside, these two guilty pleasures speak to two very different audiences with very different politics.
"True Blood" creator Alan Ball has made a name for himself through the gen x existentialism of "American Beauty" and "Six Feet Under," through character driven plots about childish anti-heros trapped in the body of adults, who can't quite fit themselves into that suburban neighborhood, or that perfect nuclear family. His unspoken message has always been don't fit in, be true to your self and your journey, even if you end up looking like an asshole, hurting everyone you think you should love if you weren't so self involved, and (SPOILER ALERT) ultimately dying . With True Blood, Ball keeps the moral relativism but loses the heavy handed philosophical and psychological crises. True Blood is a cheesy, sexy fun fest which at its deepest level seems to be a promotion of what Bill O'Reilly might call "San Francisco Values." Set in the stylized, southern gothic town of Beau Temps, LA, the plot lines mostly revolve around the difficulties of social pariahs (vampires, psychics, shape shifters, gays, blacks) as they struggle for acceptance and equal rights, and against ignorance and intolerance. Along the way, there are a lot of vampire clichés exploited for knowing laughs, and, in true HBO style, a lot of very sexy scenes of people giving into their darkest desires. Ball seems to be writing to an audience like himself, who view the south as a code word for black magic superstitions and bigotry, who appreciate sex, drugs and alternative lifestyles, who get a chuckle out of ironic rehashes of vampire mythology.
In contrast, Twilight's weakness and strength is its sincerity. The plot line consists mostly of the two ethereally beautiful protagonists staring at each other while breathing heavily, both seemingly on the verge of puking. In this movie, the most evocative acting was done by the leads' cheekbones. There enough is enough painfully heartfelt romantic dialog to wet the day of the week panties of an army of tweenage true love waits tramplettes. (A personal favorite: "You're like a drug to me, my own personal brand of heroin.") but what there is absolutely NOT is sex. There is barely any physical contact. Sex is depicted in all forms as a dangerous threat, whether it be the threat of gang rape by a group of local rowdies, or the threat of your true love being so consumed by desire that he literally consumes you. The message was explicit. The final scene is Prom Night, the traditional cinematic site of a virgin's ravishment. Moody, awkward 17-year-old Bella begs her sulkily sultry date Edward to man up and turn her into a vampire already. He is tempted but begs her to reconsider, reminding her of all the love and pleasure they already share, with out the intrusion of this life-ending, deviant act. No one is missing the symbolism here.
Here is the danger as I see it: True Blood is fabulous, sexy, funny, scary, gory, and so is Twilight. But Allan Ball is preaching to the converted, an ironic snarky, liberal minded audience, while Twilight is speaking to the most susceptible audience there is: preteen girls. While there is nothing wrong in theory with 12 and 13 year olds being encouraged to not have sex, my concern is the larger cultural trend that this message represents. This kind of promise ring mentality once confined to the heartland is now seeping into all realms of media production, and is being passed off as light bubblegum media, not as serious ideological propaganda. I'm afraid that for this generation, there are no alternative message. Juno, the darling of alternative painfully ironic indie teens everywhere, was supposed to be so smart and witty, but she didn't even think to bring a condom to her preplanned seduction? For Juno, abortion was creepy icky and Plan B was a moot point. Good thing her family and boyfriend loved her more when she decided to keep the baby. Why is birth control in all forms the most taboo subject there is in teen entertainment, even in screenplays supposedly written by culturally savvy ex-strippers? If we have learned anything from Victorian sexuality, its that repressed desires will ultimately express themselves in the most dangerous and freakish of ways. It doesn't work people! Frankly, it freaks me out, and keeps me from enjoying even the most escapist of entertainment. It's like Handmaid's Tale here we come! I hope Obama addresses this issue soon. Until then, Jonas Brothers, I'm coming for YOU!

Der Untergang

• BUT

• HERR

• DOKTOR

My heart goes out

God, it must be so stressful to be Kanye and to always have to be coming up with the freshest music videos. This is amazing. I feel for him.

Like in his mind-blowing Spike Jonze directed video for "Flashing Lights," Kanye adds multiple new levels of meaning to his lyrics with the video imagery. On the surface, the song seems to be about a doomed and obsessive love affair. The contrast in the video between Kanye dressed in white in a sterile white environment and tribal dancers could fit in the context of a love story. The dancers could be stereotypically symbolic of the irrational, wild forces of passion, that yeezy must keep locked down, but which he can't prevent from invading his ordered life and thoughts. But I think that this song and video are also symbolic of Kanye's contested and ambivalent relationship with the media. Even though Kanye is political and vocal about black issues, because his music is different he is often criticized for being whitewashed, not black, or street enough. His efforts to redefine or transcend the genre of hip hop have been met with a huge critical backlash. Lyrics like:

"Gotta keep it going
Keep the lovin’ going
Keep it on a role
Only god knows
If I’ll be with you
Baby I’m confused
You choose, you choose"

accompanying a shot of kanye in white collapsed in a corner next to a looming masked tribal figure seem to recast the video as a story about ye's struggle with the limited and stereotyped roles projected onto black performers in mainstream media. Despite the final repetition of "you lose, you lose," which hints at the culturally stunting consequences of forcing performers into these roles, the final imagery of the sexy rave-y day-glo tribal dancers seem to suggest a positive ending. With this synthesis of styles, Kanye is offering a visual representation of a new musical catagory he is inventing for himself. On the other hand, these gigantic idol-like women could be representative of the new fetish, the new way primitivism is present in our post-modernist information age. I don't know, what do you think?

Monkids

Something happened to me once years ago, but the mysterious nature of the event has troubled me ever since. I was walking on haight street with willy and peter, and we passed this woman getting what looked like a toddler out of a car seat and putting it into a stroller. BUT IT WAS A CHIMPANZEE!!! IT WAS WEARING CLOTHES< AND SHOES< AND A HAT< AND IT LOOKED LIKE A BABY!!!!! We were all taken aback, peter said to the woman: "You are going to scare a lot of people with that!" The woman gave him an icy stare of death and replied: "What? my monkey or my disability?" I never could figure out what she meant because she seemed completely able bodied. We concluded that it must have been a help monkey, but then why was she pushing it in a stroller and not the other way around? anyways, I closed the mental file on this one until recently when I was taking a shit and reading this article in a back issue of radar about monkids. Monkeys that people raise instead of children! It burst on me with the force of a revelation, and suddenly my life began to make a little more sense, kind of.

The Voice of a Generation!

Pure Genius!

calling NY's most elligble bachelors!

who wants to take me on this sexy kultur-date before 11.10.08? No strings attached, unless that's like, your thing...