Bad to the bone

Back in the day, getting pizza was an event. It was reserved for Friday night slumber parties or as part of a festive outing on the other side of town. Pizza was something you anticipated; and if it went bad, you made the best of it.

I had a friend who used to say: even when you get bad pizza, it's still pizza!

Now you pretty much get pizza all the time and the phrase doesn't pack the same punch. For most, it's a downgrade to: When you get bad pizza, it's just bad.

The same friend once extrapolated the concept to sex: even when you have bad sex, it's still sex! The obvious question is: has sex gone the way of pizza, with ennui souring whatever positive morsels are to be had within a bad experience?  Perhaps it's a gender thing. When a man has bad sex, hey, it's still sex! When a woman has bad sex, it's just bad.

Good christ. This introduction has gone on long enough.

Behold three images. Now then dear readers, you tell me. Do these fall in the "But It's Still Sex!"category or should they be relegated to the "It's Just Bad" department?

1. Behold their delicate flowers--emphasis on the hold.

2. What the illustrator in the 1968 Montgomery Ward ad department was really thinking or, "Burgers are on!"

3. There are situations when what you learned in Art Deconstruction 301 do not apply.

On a thinly related note, I once had a cupcake that sucked even though it was a cupcake. How tragic is that?

This post is done.

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Tell me something good

On a fluke, Eric and I rented American Swing, a documentary-style film that chronicles the notorious New York sex club "Plato's Retreat," which opened in 1977. The club enjoyed it's short-lived glory days while under the management of founder Larry Levenson.

I was riveted by this movie from start to finish.

Despite the outrageous sexual activity going on in the club, there's an innocence and even a naivete about it all that we'll never recapture in our post-HIV society. Even in an STD-free world, the moral majority/bible-thumpers would never abide this level of unabashed sexual freedom.

The interviews are wonderful. I loved listening to people in their fifties and sixties reminisce about the sex they had in their twenties and thirties. The vintage interviews from shows like Donahue are worth the cost of admission alone.

The graphics are, well, graphic and not at all suitable for family viewing; but the footage and photos never feel pornographic. They help to tell the story in the most appropriate way. These people are having fun. The sex is flat-out and raw and everybody's enjoying it. Everything about what you see is real. The boobs and pubes are 100% natural.


This movie depicts a raucous albeit slim chapter from the book of human sexuality. It is sexy, quirky, funny, sad and honest. I can't recommend it highly enough.

If you don't rent it, whatever you do, view the six minute trailer, which gives a generous sampling of what the film is all about.

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Ugly cupcakes and a Toynbee tile

Today, the Free Times is introducing FREEBLOG! and although Yours Truly is a contributor, editor Frank Lewis posted a short entry on Toynbee tiles that is arguably one of the best blog posts I've ever seen.

I like to be a destination blog instead of a reference blog most of the time, but today I'm making an exception. Go the hell over there and read that post, which evidences the fact that I might not be the Clevelandiest Clevelander in all of Cleveland after all. How could I have not known about this?

Note from The Administration: The Administration would like to note that the Authoress (with which Administration has endless difficulties) derived great pleasure from tagging this mostly nonsensical post with the four unrelated items that she has somehow brought together in the mysterious confluence of her mind. The Administration will try to reign in the Authoress, although The Administration admits that previous efforts to do so have been unsuccessful.