Sunday, August 30, 2009

Please Excuse the Euphemism: Gazongas

More entries from my trusty Dictionary of Catch Phrases, this time concerning a subject I hold (literally, ha!) close to my heart: titties.

beautiful pair of brown eyes - a. 'A fine pair of breasts. Sometimes with a slight pause between the br.- and the -own of brown, i.e. a mock-recovery from a slip of the tongue. It could refer to nipples, I suppose, but I have also heard blue eyes; neither expression was very common: 1950s' (P.B., 1976--who adds, six years later: a spot of what we have now learnt to call male chauvinist piggery), Occ., more weakly, a nice pair . . . ---Hmm, "brown eye" mean something COMPLETELY different now.

all tits and teeth. (Of a woman) having protrusive breasts and large teeth: a low c.p. of C20. Hence, a still low but predominantly Cockney c.p., dating from c. 1910 and applied to a woman wearing an insincere smile and exhibiting a notable skill in displaying the amplitude of her bosom (il y a du monde au balcon). An alert and erudite friend, writing to me in 1967, recalled that he had sometimes heard this phrase elab. to '" . . . like a third-row chorus girl", i.e. one who can neither sing nor dance, and depends upon the display of her exceptional physique to keep her on the stage'. P.B.: cf. all bum and bustle, which epitomises equally well another type of woman: the middle-aged or elderly bustling and bossy sort. ---Not to be a hater, but this one makes me think of Jessica Simpson.

carrying all before her is a raffishly joc. or facetious c.p., dating from c. 1920 and indicating that the woman or girl to whom it is applied either has a liberally developed bust or is rather prominently pregnant.

Ancient example of this condition:

The Venus of Willendorf

Modern example:

Selma Blair in A Dirty Shame

you have grown a big girl since last Christmas! is a C20 c.p., hardly a cultured address to a girl or even a woman, the ref. being to somewhat noticeably large breasts. (Occurs in, e.g., R. Blaker, Night-Shift, 1934.) Cf you don't get many . . ., and you're a big girl now. ---Favorite catch phrase of creepy uncles everywhere!

I imagine the author of this to book to be akin to Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady, except instead of being able ascertain where you're from (and where you've ever lived) just by listening to you talk, this guy can give you a detailed history of every bawdy joke you tell. If anything, it's a pretty good party trick.


Saturday, August 29, 2009

Valerie Shills Her DVD Online


After about a year of legitimate distractions (moving to a new city, getting a full time job, GETTING MARRIED) and straight-up dawdling, my film is finally complete and ready to be sold for a very reasonable sum of $20 per copy. Or, you know, free if I actually know you IRL.

So, if you're interested in a comic dissection of gender politics and commerce in the wacky cyber age, give me a holler and I'll hook you up.

Friday, August 28, 2009

The Blog Formerly Known As

So, I decided to change the name of this blog. Crotch Talk is no more. You are now reading Panty For Your Thoughts, which is a far superior title anyway. I'm still patting myself on the back for thinking of it.

Why change, you ask? Well, the other day, bored with Googling my own name, I searched for the name of this blog to see if anything interesting would come up. This is something I probably should have done back when I started it, to make sure the title wasn't already taken. Well, turns out it was. Taken by a Denver area company that, according to them, sells
"Underwear and baby onesies that have cute graphics, hilarious sayings, and nifty reminders INSIDE the crotch! The crotch is talking... but are you listening? And we also have awesome hand bags and clutches made out of real underwear too!"
Now that's a sales pitch! They're right, how long have I been ignoring what my crotch is saying? I can't believe I've been so rude to my lady bits.

Here's a few examples of their "hilarious" product:


I can't stop my mind from mentally adding gross period stains to these pristine undies. If my cooter could talk back, it would say "Not for long, bitch!"


If you meet a guy who uses his tightie whiteys as a wing man, run for the fucking hills.

They also make onesies for babies, which I find extremely disturbing and I can't really articulate why.
Maybe because I don't really want to think about a baby's crotch in any context, and I especially don't want that crotch to talk to me if I have to change it's diapers or something.

Want a purse made out of American Apparel hipster undies? They've got that too.

This gives me a queasy feeling just looking at it.

Anyway, they own the Crotch Talk url and they even have a facebook page so I thought it would be better to change my blog to avoid confusion. Long live Panty For Your Thoughts!

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Nice box

When my friend Whitney returned from a disheartening two year Peace Corp assignment in the West African nation of Mauritania, narrowly avoiding a military coup staged on the very day she was supposed to disembark, she brought home some remarkable souvenirs from the Islamic Republic, most notably a bar of Lady Diana Virginity Soap.

This product is fascinating. As a proud, liberated woman (although I would never burn a bra--my boobs need the support!) I am so deeply offended by the very idea of this soap that it makes me laugh. It is unfathomable to me that something this crazy actually exists, and some poor women are made to believe they need to use it. Fuck that.

Although thoroughly disgusted, I can't seem to curb my obsession with the packaging of this dirty little cleanser. There are so many questions: Is "Lady Diana" is a veiled reference to deceased English royal Princess Diana of Wales? Because I knew about her admirable work with landmine reform, but I was unfamiliar with this coochie tightening initiative. What is with the defiant body language of the headless lady in the demur gray nightgown? It doesn't seem to fit with the concept they are trying to sell. Her crossed arms and sassy hip stance seem to say, "Yeah, I have a loose cooter. You want to make something of it?" No, no I don't.

Printed on the side of the carton is a list of the purported benefits of the soap. This miracle product:

Tightens vaginal muscle
Washes away bacteria
Washes away infectious itching
Clears out normal accumulations
Refreshes skin during menstrual period
Reduces burning sensation
Reduces unpleasant odor
Keeps natural skin balance

The claims are pretty standard, except for the magical regrowth of the hymen, that is. The directions for use are where it truly goes off the rails. Through broken Engrish, the customer is told to:

"Uses of Lady Diana Virginity Soap to tighten vaginal muscle and clean your secret area free of unpleasant odor. Use regularly twice daily, in the morning and night or as often as needed for more confidence and great feeling like a virgin. It is mild and gentle and very effective."
Sorry, box, my secret area isn't buying this bullshit.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Shitty Blogger



Look, I know I've been pretty terrible at updating this blog. When I started this thing last year I barely managed a handful of posts before I stopped bothering with it entirely. My last entries weren't even in 2009, for goodness sakes. It's pathetic!

I have the same problem keeping up my correspondence. I check my email constantly at work (as does anyone with a boring desk job) and I'm always happy to receive something from a friend instead of the usual administrative crap. Actually, to be more accurate, I read personal emails at work. I don't respond to them. I file them away so I can write back later when I have more time to compose something witty and chuckle-inducing. And then I forget to write back. Weeks go by and I find the old email, like an albatross, in my inbox. I have even marked it as unread to remind myself of its existence, yet it remains unanswered. I stare at the bold text like I would look at a firing squad. The guilt overwhelms me. I feel horrible about failing at this simple social exchange. I vow to do better. I plan an email response of epic proportions to make up for my sin. And then I never do that either. At this point I probably just call the person.

So, this is me, vowing to do better. It probably won't happen, but it's an admirable goal. Please support it!

p.s. Am I the last person to have seen this crazy Japanese video about potty-training? Apparently it's up to almost 2 million views on YouTube. I can see why. I'm totally hypnotized by that song the parents sing while the kid is taking a shit.