When most people hear that a day is going to go from being relatively nice to damn near arctic--complete with sub-freezing temperatures, blowing snow, and zero visibility--in the course of a few hours, they probably decide to go about their absolutely necessary business and then shut themselves in their warm homes for the duration. But not Mr. Vice and I. No, we say "Fuck conventional wisdom. You say there's going to be almost no visibility, icy roads, and gale-force winds. We're not scared. And to prove it, we're going to hitch a trailer to the seXterra and drive all over Southern Wisconsin." So that's what we did--just to prove to Mother Nature that we aren't going to give up like a bunch of Frenchmen just because it's cold and dangerous.

But aside from that, there are two points to this post. First, winter, which many had thought had been beaten into submission by warmth and sunlight, has made a spectacular return--the temperature outside is currently eight below zero. According to weather.com, it feels like thirty-two below. That's fucking cold.

The other point is that Mr. Vice and I now officially have an office. We even have desks. No chairs yet. Just desks. And a really huge office. And desks. Without chairs. We're taking it one step at a time.

In any event, stay warm. Or, if you're somewhere where it is warm, fuck you.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 2:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense

I generally don't watch the State of the Union address, mostly because it's boring and dumb. It's not that I don't think politics and policy are interesting, it's that I think that the State of the Union, especially in the hands of untalented orators, is an extremely tedious exercise. The idea of our country's chief executive going to the headquarters of the Congress--the only branch of our government that is elected directly by the people--and telling them what's up is a very good, profound idea. But presidents tend to use the State of the Union not as a platform to inspire and lead--and certainly not to inform--but rather as forum from which they can repeat their tired ideas and criticisms. And what's perhaps worse than the uninspired speeches and the terrible delivery is the fact that everyone in the fucking room feels the need to stand up and clap every time the President stops to take a breathe. I understand showing respect, but I think it's pretty pathetic to give a man thirty-seven standing ovations in a speech that's less than an hour long. It's pathetic that members of the opposition party sit in their chairs and clap even when the President says something that is abhorrent to their beliefs but then think that they're making a statement when they refuse to clap once. The whole thing is both too political and not political enough or, more accurately, it's political in a very stupid way (it's all about posturing and scripted, planned--but quiet and respectful--dissent) and stupid in a very political way (nothing new or unexpected happens, and the whole thing is filtered through pollsters and pundits).

Still, I caught the latter half of tonight's speech. And it was pretty much what I expected.

First of all, President Bush is an unbelievably bad speaker. Seriously. While I understand that even JFK would have a hard time making that speech interesting, the President failed in so many different ways. His delivery was flat to say the least. The man has no passion or, at the very least, is utterly incapable of expressing that passion. His tone was exactly the same whether he was berating the Democrats for not protecting communications companies from lawsuits, thanking our troops for their service, or reminding us that our country is about "we the people." And, by the way, what the hell kind of an end was that? He starts waxing philosophical and then just stopped, almost as if he was thankful that the whole thing was over. Pathetic.

Also pathetic were several of the mistakes I heard the President make. First, I swear he called Iran "Qu'ran." I've watched it over a few times on the DVR and he definitely said "Qu'ran." That's not exactly a good mistake to make. Second, he said "Zimbawe" rather than "Zimbabwe." Also not a good mistake--in your eighth year as leader of the free world, you'd think you could get some basic country names right.

The content, of course, was just sad. Too ridiculous for me to even get into.

Second, the gallery was pathetic. I understand that the Republicans wanted to show support for their president, but hooping and hollering about shielding phone companies? Really? Come on, guys.

Nancy Pelosi was the worst, though. Aside from looking bored out of her mind, she seemed completely out of place. She kept looking around when the President would pause to see whether the people on her side of the aisle were going to stand. Then she'd decide whether to stand. Isn't the Speaker supposed to be the leader rather than, you know, not? And what the hell is she--or any Democrat, for that matter--doing standing when the President was talking about continuing the war, "winning" in Iraq, and not bringing the troops home right away? Weren't they opposed to that? But now we're standing? Ok, cool.

The gallery and their perfunctory ovations are perhaps the most infuriating things about the speech to me. If I were president, I'd tell them all to shut the fuck up so I could get on with the speech.

Third, Kathleen Sebelius was terrible. I didn't know much about her before Tim Russert's introduction, and I was pretty excited about her after he spoke so highly of her. But, no, it turns out that she's the only public speaker in America that is more lifeless and flat than George W. Bush. Her comments were uninspired and uninspiring. And she's a liar: she starts off by saying that she's not going to deliver a Democratic message but rather an American message. Then she talks about how awesome the Democrats are while implying--though never saying--that the Republicans are holding up progress. If she wanted to give a completely pro-Democrat speech, she should have and that was her right. But she shouldn't have tried to tell me that's not what it was.

Judged entirely by this speech, it appears that the Union is pretty much completely out of new ideas. It also seems that our government is operating at about the same level as a middle-school debate competition. I half expected someone in a furry mascot costume to start running around the chamber.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 9:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Political Rants , Rants on the News , Reviews

I am not an ad executive. I have never been to business school or even taken a marketing class. I have never written copy or tried to sell anything. I am completely naive as to what it takes to brand and sell a product. I want you all to keep this in mind for what follows.

You see, although I am completely ignorant as to what it takes to market a product, I would assume--based on nothing other than common sense (which apparently tells some people that the ass is a reproductive organ)--that an advertising campaign that makes anyone that is exposed to it want to hunt down and destroy every single person that is in any way connected to the product and its marketing is a complete failure. In other words, if, after seeing a commercial, the viewer is filled with an almost uncontrollable urge to decapitate anyone that owns the product, has owned the product, might one day own the product, or even is aware of the product's existence and disembowel everyone who works at any of the companies that were in any way connected to the production of the commercial, including the ad executives, camera operators, secretarial staff, and janitors, then I would assume that the commercial is, to put it mildly, a failure.

I am apparently mistaken in that assumption, however. That's what I'm lead to believe by the people in charge of the ad campaign for Zoo York--people who presumably have the benefit of years of education. Witness their oeuvre:

Am I in the fucking twilight zone? I could enumerate the reasons why I think this commercial is worse than AIDS, but if you don't already get it, you're a worthless piece of shit, anyway. And if, as a result of seeing this commercial, you actually want to go buy these shoes (that's what this is a commercial for, right?) then I hope you do humanity a favor and split your ballsack open the next time you try to grind a handrail and are thereafter unable to have children.

Update:
As the Rising Jurist pointed out in the comments, the Zoo York ad is actually a parody of the HeadOn! commercials, which I now realize I've seen before but had mercifully forgotten about. Here's one for your review:

I think that my initial criticism applies with equal force to the HeadOn! people: it doesn't matter what your product is, don't create a commercial that insults my intelligence and makes me want to kill you. And I now have something else to criticize Zoo York for: if you're going to parody something horrible, then find some way of making it less horrible, rather than keeping all of the things that made the original horrible while removing any of the things that made the original even somewhat coherent.

And my underlying point to all of this still stands: everyone involved in creating these monstrosities should be executed.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Reviews

Apparently, the FCC, those minions of repression and near fascism, have decided to fine ABC almost $1.5 million after it showed a naked female butt during prime time. There are a couple of things I'd like to say here.

First of all, our society really needs to get its head out of its ass. Everyone has butts, just like some people have tits and vaginas and other people have cocks. It's not the fucking end of the world, and it's a stupid attitude to decide that all nudity is inherently offensive or sexual or whatever. I mean, seriously. Why do we have to cater to the people with the most delicate sensibilities on what are supposed to be public airwaves? I mean, what do these people think is going to happen if we allow TV shows to display a fucking butt? Or if some woman's nipple makes an unexpected appearance during a sporting event? There simply is no reason why mature adults should decide that female nipples are offensive, male nipples are cool, and genitalia is all-around evil. And don't give me that shit about how it's just our culture and our mores and shit. All of that is complete nonsense--we should be reasonable and independent enough to constantly reevaluate our cultural values and throw out the ones that are, in the case of sexual repression, outdated and entirely without rational justification.

Second, we have a ratings system for TV. And all the networks participate. So this "offensive" show announced the fact that it might contain offensive material. If you're a parent that is concerned that your pure, innocent child, who has never even conceived of a female posterior, might have his delicate young mind warped by the blatant--if brief--representation of a butt, then you're entitled to know that what you're considering watching might have some naked rear end in it. And that's exactly what ratings systems do--they inform potential viewers, who can then make an educated choice about what they and their children will watch. If some parent wants their kids to grow up to be afraid of naked people, then that's fine. And we should do everything we can to make sure that parents can make informed decisions about what they allow their kids to watch. But beyond that, fuck it. There are always going to be kids that watch something their parents don't want them to and parents that are less than attentive. But it's not the government's responsibility to step in and fill that gap. Otherwise, they might as well start telling us which songs are OK to sing to kids and how many hugs per week a child needs.

Third, let me call your attention to this quote:

"We find that the programming at issue is within the scope of our indecency definition because it depicts sexual organs and excretory organs -- specifically an adult woman's buttocks," the FCC wrote. "Although ABC argues, without citing any authority, that the buttocks are not a sexual organ, we reject this argument, which runs counter to both case law and common sense."

Wait, wait, wait. It's common sense that the butt is a sexual organ? When the fuck did that happen? Up until a few minutes ago, common sense was telling me that sexual organs were those that played a part in procreation. But apparently I--and Wikipedia--are wrong! Apparently, sexual organs include the various organs that play a part in procreation--the penis, the vagina, the testicles, and the ovaries, for example--and the butt.

Or--oh shit--there's another explanation. If common sense tells me that sexual organs are those that play a part in procreation, and common sense also tells me that the butt is a sexual organ, then that could mean that the butt is somehow involved in procreation! Of course! This makes so much sense! It explains strange things like anal sex. It must be the case that women have two reproductive systems, one of which is vagina based and other of which is butt based! It must be that couples can decide whether to have normal, vagina-born babies or mutant butt babies! That would explain people like Steven Cojocaru and the entire cast of The Real Housewives of Orange County! They're all butt babies! Remarkable.

Or the FCC is a bunch of idiots. You decide.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Funny Shit , Horribly Inappropriate Things I've Said , Philosophical Rants , Political Rants , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Rants on the News

I have a deep, dark secret. One that only some of my closest friends know about. But it's time I come clean. I feel that, by hiding this secret from the world, I've erected a barrier between myself and the world at large that prevents me from finding real intimacy. So here goes. I play World of Warcraft. There. Now you know. Please don't judge me too harshly. It's a natural progression, really, seeing as how I played a hell of a lot of Magic: The Gathering in high school. Yeah, the girls loved me.

For those of you who may be unfamiliar with the World of Warcraft--or "WoW" for short--it is the most popular massively multiplayer online roleplaying game in the world. It now has over ten million players. It was also the subject of an awesome episode of South Park.

The basic premise of the game is that you play a character--you can choose from several races such as the bull-like Tauren and the zombie diminutive dwarves--to complete quests and make your character more powerful. What makes it a "massively multiplayer online" game is that your character exists in the same online world--which, by the way, is by far the largest game world in any game I've ever played--as hundreds of thousands of other players' characters. The result is that the game doesn't have to be a solitary experience--you can always find other people to kill monsters with. Of course, I prefer to quest with people I already know from the real world. We've gotten massive XP in our party using teamspeak.

I was really skeptical when I first signed on at the urging of a certain Asian, but the game is actually immensely enjoyable and extremely deep. There are so many different things to do and myriad ways to play the game, the end result of which is that the game is usually very enjoyable and fulfilling. And, most of all, extremely relaxing.

Like any RPG, the main point of WoW is to advance your character. It's an arduous process that takes a lot of time, but it's worth it when your character is an unmitigated badass. I have three main characters right now. The oldest, Ismael, is a Tauren shaman--just like fucking William Shatner--who can hurl lightning bolts from his fingertips. Next up is Ithryn, an undead mage that hurls fireballs the size of small cars. His name is a reference to the Istari, the group of wizards including Gandalf and Saruman from Lord of the Rings. My lowest-level main character is Valarawker, a troll priest that can heal like a motherfucker.

Anyway, the game is an awesome distraction, and I highly recommend it to anyone that wants something relaxing, fun, and challenging to do. Or, you know, you could have a life. But I find that those are overrated.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Rants on the News , Reviews , The Lord of the Rings , Things I'm Irrationally Attached To

Over the course of law school--and third year in particular--I got very used to the idea of always having something hanging over my head. There was always reading, studying, cite-checking, or editing to be done. Oh, yeah, and I guess I had to go to classes on occasion. It got to the point where a constant state of all-consuming busyness was the norm. There were several days when I'd get to the school around ten in the morning and not leave until four the next morning, and although I never actually slept in the Law Review office overnight, I napped there a hell of a lot.

Then I graduated and the ever-present feeling of having something else to do vanished. And it was awesome. It was like breathing after having a contest with your friend to see who could hold their breath the longest. I could sleep in, go out, stay up late, play games, hang out with my friends, read, or--as I usually ended up doing--sit on my ass. It was great. For a few weeks. Then I just started feeling worthless and depressed.

And that's when I realized something completely unexpected about myself: I like being busy. I like having things to do, deadlines to meet, projects to finish. In fact, I love it.

Fortunate for me, then, that my partners and I are in the process of starting up this law firm, because it's going to keep me busy for the foreseeable future. As of right now, we've got an office and some furniture. Everything is going really, really well, and I'm really excited. But there's still an almost unbelievable amount of stuff to do. But I'm looking forward to it all because I know that when it's all over, it's going to be more than worth it.

Today was the first day since graduation that's been what I would call "busy." I still slept in, and I still had time to watch TV in the evening, so it wasn't insane. But I had multiple commitments when the day started and, by the time I came home at night, I had gotten them all done and then some. It felt, frankly, great.

I bought a planner the other day. I've never owned a planner before, mostly because I knew I'd be too lazy to really use it. But there was a moment on Tuesday when I realized that there was no way that I'd be able to keep all my deadlines and court dates and clients and random other crap straight without a planner. So I bought one and I'm trying to train myself to use it diligently. We'll see how it goes, but I think I'm going to stick to it. Of course, I can't wait to get some ridiculous piece of technology to replace the planner, but right now, it's awesome.

So I'm getting busy again, and I'm excited. That's the point of this post. It's almost like I have a job. . . .

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (8)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , General Awesomeness

In an interesting instance of "going meta," CNN.com is currently running a story about an earlier story it ran. The first story focused on the "tough choices" black women voters face in South Carolina, given that the two Democratic frontrunners are a white woman and a black man. The second article called attention to readers' anger over the first article's implication that black women vote based not on a candidate's qualifications but on the candidates skin color and reproductive organs. While it's refreshing to see CNN.com post what is essentially critical user-created content, that doesn't change the fact that the original story was fucking retarded.

Here's an excerpt from the article:

For [black] women, a unique, and most unexpected dilemma, presents itself: Should they vote their race, or should they vote their gender?

No other voting bloc in the country faces this choice.

What the hell kind of nonsense is this? Vote your race? Vote your gender? What the fuck does that even mean?

Honestly, I'm saddened to see that Bill Richardson is out of the race. And, frankly, I think the fact that he was never a serious candidate despite being the most objectively qualified person in the race says something about the sorry state of our electorate. I mean, when a man that's served as a governor, in the U.S. House of Representatives, as Secretary of Energy, and as a U.N ambassador can't compete with a first- and second-term senators, people really have their priorities all tangled up. I don't know if I would have ultimately voted for Mr. Richardson for president, but I think he should have been a much more viable candidate.

Still, my support and respect for Mr. Richardson is completely unrelated to the fact the he is, like me, Hispanic. If any of the other candidates had Mr. Richardson's credentials, then I would have given them the same serious consideration I would have given Mr. Richardson. And if a presidential race ever comes down to a Hispanic woman against a white man, I'm not going to be sitting there thinking "Well, see, now I'm really confused. On the one hand, the woman speaks Spanish, just like me. But, on the other hand, the man's got a cock, just like me. God, this is a fucking difficult decision." No reasonable person would decide who to vote for based on such incidental attributes.

It's probably true that women are more cognizant of the issues that affect women than men. But it does not follow that a woman would best address those issues. Similarly, black people might be more aware of the issues facing black people than, say, white people. But it does not follow that a black man would best represent black people as a whole. More importantly, it is surely not the case that each black woman cares about gender or race issues more than other problems our country's facing. Indeed, the article points out that black women, like many other people across the nation, are most concerned with health care, education, and the economy than race or gender.

In other words, lots of Democrats in America are facing the exact same decision as the black women in the article: whether to support Barack Obama or Hillary Clinton. To assume that anyone is making their decision based on whether the candidate is of the same race or gender as the voter is to call the voters irrational at best and racist or sexist at worse.

And if you're someone that thinks that either one of those factors really matters, then you're either a complete idiot or a raging bigot.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under

I can honestly say that I was more excited for the Packers-Giants game today than any other professional sports game ever, mostly due to the fact that this is one of the few such games I've ever been excited about. This after a lifetime of hating all sports. That started changing this year, first with watching the Badgers every week at L-Dawg and X-tina's. And then, when that was all over, Mr. Vice and pH got me excited for the Packers. The three of us ended up in a bowling alley watching the Packers-Cowboys game, and I didn't mind standing up the whole time at all. Too bad they fucking blew it. But then they kicked ass last week, despite a horrible, horrible start. So I was excited and, based on what people more knowledgeable about football told me, confident that the Packers would end up in the Superbowl.

I am not a superstitious man. I don't throw anything over my shoulder when I spill salt. I don't fear walking under ladders. And I don't think it's bad luck to cross paths with a black cat--I own one, after all. So, when Co-SME demanded that I not proclaim that the Packers were certain to win at the start of the game tonight, I was unafraid to proclaim, loudly and confidently, that the Packers were certain to win. My confidence wavered as the game wore on, but, when the Giants kicker missed that field goal at the end of the fourth quarter, I was sure it was all going to turn around. And then... it didn't.

People were sad and pissed, and justifiably so. Based on both my uninformed assessment and the much more informed assessments of those I watched the game with, the Packers put in a poor performance. And, what's worse, they ruined my night and that of pretty much everyone else in Wisconsin.

See, and that's why I hate sports.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:28 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Hanging Out With My Friends , Life Sucks Sometimes , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Reviews

I watched the movie Gone Baby Gone last night. It was really, really good, which is hard for me to admit seeing as how there were two Afflecks involved in its production. But the movie was very well written and surprisingly unafflecky. And the younger Affleck did a very good job. Except in one crucial aspect of his performance: his infuriating Boston accent.

Now, I've only been to Boston once--on a school trip when I was a little kid. I remember liking it a lot because we got to see a bunch of really cool American history-related things. I do not remember anyone speaking with that fucking accent. Which is lucky, because it would have been hard for me to explain, even at eleven years old, why I killed everyone around me that talked like that.

Seriously--who the fuck pronounces "dark" more like "dock" than, you know, "dark." And since when is "fuck" pronounced "faaaahck"?

Some have noted that the Midwestern accent--particularly all that "donchaknow" shit from Minnesota--is annoying. It can be and, frankly, I assume that anyone that speaks like that would be easy to con out of money and property. But I usually find it sort of endearing. At the very least, I'm not filled with the urge to murder anyone who speaks like that, which is more than I can say for the motherfuckers that speak as though the letter R has been removed from the fucking language.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 10:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (14)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Movie Reviews , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry

Most of you have probably seen this already, but I just think it's too funny in the creepiest possible way not to post. It's apparently a video produced by the "Church" of Scientology for internal purposes. They're apparently pissed that it got out. And with good reason, because I don't see how anyone could take them seriously after this. Not that there were any reasons to think they were legitimate before. Anyway, without further ado, I give you perhaps the craziest, creepiest person in Hollywood, which is saying a lot (incidentally, Mr. Cruise uses some jargon that I wasn't familiar with, so I looked it up. A "PTS" is a "potential trouble source." An "SP" is not a reference to The Smashing Pumpkins but is, rather, a "suppressive person."):

[The video has been removed from Youtube because the Church of Scientology's claims of copyright infringement. I'm not sure how valid those claims are, but the video's gone. It's still available at Gawker.com, however. Check it out here.]

Here are some highlights, courtesy of Us Magazine:

Being a Scientologist, when you drive past an accident... you know you have to do something about it because you know you're the only one that can really help.

So, let me get this straight. If I'm in a car accident and I'm trapped in my flipped-over SUV and there are fumes and flames and I'm fairly certain that the whole thing is about to explode and blow me the fuck up, I would be mistaken to hope that firefighters show up with the jaws of life. Instead, I should be sitting there hoping that Tom fucking Cruise shows up, because he's the only person that can really help. Like, with mind bullets or his super strength or something? What the fuck is he talking about?

Here's another one:

We are the authorities on getting people off drugs, we are the authorities on the mind, we are the authorities on improving conditions... we can rehabilitate criminals.

If I'm depressed or bipolar or addicted to drugs, I should avoid trained mental-health professionals and, instead, seek out you and your glorified tin-can machine? Of course! That totally makes sense.

I said a little while ago that a person that there are certain areas of belief that no one has any ability to contradict. I still think that's true. But there's still a point at which believing in something turns into unhealthy fanaticism. I think Mr. Cruise is well the fuck over that line. It's not that Scientologists' beliefs about, for example, Lord Xenu, are patently more ridiculous than beliefs about virgin births, it's that the Christianity doesn't encourage believers to stop talking to their family members. Scientology apparently does. And, while everyone was encouraged to tithe at the church I went to as a child, the services, ceremonies, and doctrines were free, which is absolutely not the case with Scientology, which is adamant about protecting its copyrights and making sure it gets paid. Those things--in addition to the intergalactic DC-10s--make the whole thing seem extremely fishy to me. And nearly every other sane person in the world.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:52 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)| Filed under Funny Shit , Rants on the News , Reviews , The Smashing Pumpkins

I fucking love Savage Love. There's something infinitely entertaining about reading letters in which people reveal how fucked up their lives are. It's also sort of interesting to see how stupid people are. I mean, how much sense does it take to know you've gotta leave someone even if they're really nice to you between the beatings?

Unfortunately, Dan's latest columns have been kind of lame. I mean, why did he decide to field the question by the girl who felt strange about wearing panties with Disney princesses on them? Not only is that hot in itself, most of the Disney princesses were pretty hot, too. I mean, Ariel, anyone? Hot.

His last entry, in which he reprinted questions he had no idea how to respond to, was a little better. And it provides some good blogging fodder, I think. So, I'm going to take a shot at answering some of the questions Dan Savage himself shied away from.

The first question:

I'm a gay man living in San Francisco. There are a couple of guys I'm into. Like an actual couple. I've messed around with each of them separately, and in both cases I was told to keep it hush-hush because the other didn't know that he was being messed around on. My problem is not about their dishonesty or any of that bullshit. It's none of my business. What I really want to know is this: How can I get them both in the sack at the same time?

Trying To Double Down

TTDD, you are a slut and a terrible friend. That's fine, though, because what you really care about is making this threesome happen. You obviously do not care about your friends or their relationship--if you did, you wouldn't have been the "other man" for both of them separately. So, if what you really want is some sort of three-way action, what you need to do is lay that shit on the line--I mean, you don't even have to tell them you've fooled around with each of them, just say you want them both. If they agree and somehow find out that you've been with them each before ("What the fuck do you mean you can't wait to taste him again?!"), then you've ruined their relationship and your friendship with each of them. But it's pretty clear that none of those things are very valuable, so fuck it. The upshot for you is that you get all the cock you want. Although I have no idea what you'd do with that.

Second question:

I am a gay man who has been in a relationship with my partner for nine years. My lover has always planned on undergoing a sex change, from male to female. There were money and health problems, but he's ready now. I've always told him that I love him, no matter what. Now he's gotten his breast implants and I have to admit I am completely weirded out by them. I feel like a hypocrite, but I don't know what to do! I've never been with a woman, and I don't want to be with one now. I also love my partner intensely. Any advice? I feel like a jerk! Support him for nine years and then peace out because of boobs?

Hating Myself And His Breasts

HMAHB--first of all, that's a really shitty anonymous name to give yourself. I mean, it doesn't spell out anything. HMAHB? What the fuck is that? How does that succinctly and ironically summarize your dilemma? It doesn't. So both you and your question suck. But I'll answer it anyway.

I'm a dude. I'm into chicks. I like boobies. I do not enjoy cocks. So if I was dating a chick--hell, if I had been married to a woman for twenty years and we had four kids together--and she came home with a cock, that'd be all she wrote. There wouldn't be any fancy "supporting" or "understanding" or "talking." I'd tell her to get her and her artificial man parts the fuck out of my house.

Your situation is a little different, though. You knew your boyfriend wanted to be a woman--god, it feels so wrong to even write that--for a long time and supported him. You never told him that would make you feel icky. That proves that you're a passive-aggressive pansy, and you should learn not to be that way in future relationships. Still, none of that changes the fact that you're not into tits. And, I assume, you have an aversion to vaginas. If that's the case, then you should probably kick this person to the curb.

Also, have you not seen that episode of South Park? We as a society figured out how to deal with this exact situation a long time ago, which is disturbing in and of itself, but also serves to answer your question.

Third question:

I'm 23, straight, and female. I have a fairly ravenous sexual appetite, and particularly enjoy administering oral sex to my lucky lovers. Unfortunately, I've happened upon (what seems to be) a unique dilemma. An hour or so after swallowing particular loads, I get intense stomachaches, quickly transitioning into intense diarrhea. This only occurs with maybe one in five men, and seems to be particular to the individual (i.e., if a man's loads give me the shits, they always give me the shits; if a man's loads don't give me the shits, they never give me the shits).

This has never really been too much of a problem for me in the past--I just didn't call guys back when it occurred--but I have started dating a one-in-fiver who is witty, great in the sack, and gorgeous, and I want to keep seeing him. So I have a few questions for you: (1) Does this happen to anyone else? (2) Is it me or is there something wrong with some guys' semen? (3) Is there any remedy, besides spitting?

Blowing Judiciously

First off, I want to thank you for your name. Your initials, BJ, clearly convey the message that your question has something to do with blow jobs. That makes my job easier. Now, your question.

Are you some sort of idiot? Or have you suffered some sort of severe childhood trauma? Because here's what I don't get: in your mind, you apparently have two choices. You could 1) keep swallowing this guy's semen, but have to deal with the shits, or 2) break up with him.

Now, the basis of your question--whether some men's ejaculate interacts with some women's digestive systems in such a way as to cause diarrhea--is interesting on some medical level. But it has abso-fucking-lutely nothing to do with your problem. You like the guy, you like blowing him, but swallowing makes your ass explode, so STOP FUCKING SWALLOWING! Are you starving? Have you literally had no nutrition in weeks? Are you a vegetarian with a severe protein deficiency? Are you unsure of what else to do with the mess? No? Then why the fuck are you compelled to ingest that shit? Your question is like saying "Ugh. I really sort of like my baby, but he's in all this dirty water now, and I don't know how to separate him from it. Except for washing him and drying him off--but that would never work! I guess I'll just have to throw the whole thing out. Too bad--I was really starting to like the little guy."

This is why I think you've suffered some sort of trauma and need therapy. Swallowing semen is great--or so I've heard--but it's just one sexual practice among many, right? There are still many, many things you enjoy about sex with this guy? And you can still blow him, you just have to spit, right? And, anyway, there's hopefully more to this whole thing, since you want to stay with him for a while, than just you swallowing. There are feelings or something, right? Because if there weren't, you'd just find someone else to blow, right? But for you, if you can't swallow, there's no relationship? That's some fucked-up shit right there, honey.

So there you go--I've successfully helped three people figure out what to do with themselves. I'm awesome. So I'm offering my services to you. If any of you need advice on anything, e-mail me and I'll post your question and my response. And I'll maintain your anonymity. Make it about whatever you want. I can handle the big shit. And, besides, I probably know how to run your life better than you do.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 4:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Potentially Entirely Unhelpful Analogies , Reviews

For various reasons, not the least of which is that I didn't really do a lot of interesting things today, I don't have anything interesting to write about concerning what's currently going on. I did, however, see an interesting story on CNN.com that reminded me of an interesting character I met in college, and I thought it might make for an interesting post.

As I've said, I was a philosophy major in college, and, as such, I took a hell of a lot of philosophy classes. As it turns out, there was a small group of people that took a lot of philosophy classes and, since there weren't that many philosophy professors, we ended up taking a lot of the classes together. Since the classes involved at most forty people, we got to know each other to some degree.

Me being the boisterous--some would say obnoxiously loud--person that I am, I was fairly well known in that crowd, I think. I mean, I think that people knew who I was. But I don't think I was the most interesting character in the pantheon. Some of the people that I met in these classes became some of my best friends.

First, of course, there's Lauren. I took several classes with her, including Philosophy of Physics, but I don't think that's where we met. I remember sitting across from her in the class we met and next to her in Philosophy of Physics, so I'm not sure what class we met in. Whatever, Lauren was really cool and would go on to be a central figure in my latter college years. Two of my other friends, who are now married to each other, met in one of our philosophy classes. They were collectively referred to as Philindsay. Dee too some philosophy classes, too, but we never took any together. And besides, we met each other way before all of this. But as awesome as all those people are, they're still not the most interesting characters.

No, for that, we have to go to people that I'd consider acquaintances rather than friends. First, there's Battery-Ear Boy, so named because, well, he had AA batteries in his ears. It was gross. I actually met him in a non-philosophy context as he was fucking one of the roommates at The House. I immediately hated him. He was a giant fucking douchebag who thought that the Doors--a band I hate--made, in his words, "three absolutely perfect albums." He also felt that it would be funny to reenact Jim Morrison's famous penis-displaying maneuvers--only Battery-Ear Boy had the good sense to stick his finger out of his fly and not his cock. In any event, the guy was a douche. I actually almost got in a fight with him at a party once for no reason that I can remember. What he failed to realize at the time was that everyone there hated him and had my back. Nothing happened, though.

Anyway, Batter-Ear Boy disappeared for a while. The story was that he got so fucked up on shrooms one night that he freaked the fuck out and called the NAU police on himself. I've heard that story from several sources, but I'm not completely sure it's true.

About a year later, I met this guy named Ryan at a philosophy club picnic. He seemed cool, and we talked about music and movies and shit. And he didn't say stupid things in class. And he came to House parties and wasn't a douche. Then, the male half of Philindsay said to me "You know who that is, don't you?" And I was like "Yeah, he's Ryan." And my friend said "Dude, that's Battery-Ear Boy!" I was floored. What the fuck do you mean? I mean, yeah, Ryan's kinda dirty and he's got a bunch of tattoos, but he's bigger than Battery-Ear Boy and not as douchey. You can't dedouche, can you? Apparently you can--although not really, because Battery-Ear Boy was still slightly douchey, but it just wasn't as obvious.

Anyway, there were a bunch of people in these classes that just had some crazy ideas, or who were just crazy themselves. Anyway, one of the people who was potentially completely crazy or just eccentric was a guy called--by me, anyway--Dan Max.

Dan Max's name was Dan. I knew that Dan Max's name was Dan. And everyone else knew that Dan Max's name was Dan. But invariably, when the professor would call his name on the first day of class, he'd say "Here. But please call me Maxamillion." The professor would say something like "oh, is that your middle name?" and Dan Max would respond "No, I just prefer being called Maxamillion." Yeah, and I'd prefer to be called Supreme Chancellor of my Bedroom, what's your point?

Despite his nominal issues, Dan Max was a really nice guy. He was obsessed with Go, and claimed to have taken a ceramics class for the express purpose of crafting several new Go boards every day. I never saw these alleged Go boards, so I have no idea if he actually made them. But he sure talked about them.

By now you're probably wondering what any of this has to do with any article that I might have seen on CNN.com. Well, this is the article I saw that reminded me about all of this. It's been fifty years since some obscure cartoonist invented the Smurfs, known to me in childhood as Los Pitufos. How does this related to Dan Max?

Dan Max claimed--and I say "claimed" because I have no idea if Dan Max ever told me the truth; I don't have a real reason to think he was lying, but I have no confirmation, either--to be from California. He also claimed to be extraordinarily wealthy. He claimed that this money came from his stepfather. And he claimed that his stepfather's wealth was the result of importing the Smurfs from whatever country they were created in. Dan Max claimed that the Smurfs were so profitable that he and his children were set for life.

I have no idea if any of that's true, but seeing that story made me think of all the wacky people in those classes, and especially Dan Max.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 4:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit

I'm just going to go ahead and admit this for anyone that hasn't already picked up on this: I love Star Trek.

I never really liked the original series. I think it's cheesy, predictable, and boring. I can see past the amazingly crappy special effects, but most of the stories are transparent morality plays and, as a result, all the characters are either completely flat or absolutely overdone.

No, my love of Star Trek started with The Next Generation. That show was awesome. I still remember being relatively young and getting really excited whenever Jean-Luc Picard would start doing his into narration: "These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise...." I mean, it didn't get much better for a supergeek like me. I also remember the first time I watched "All Good Things....," the TNG finale. It was awesome.

Deep Space 9 was vaguely decent when it started, and then got really, really good. It was the first Trek series--and the first series that I can think of generally--that really built up one major story arc over many seasons. In my darker moments, I know that the later seasons of DS9 were, in terms of writing, story, pacing, characters, action, and special effects, much better than anything that TNG ever did. But it doesn't really matter--my heart belongs on the bridge of the Enterprise-D. In any event, DS9 was really good, too.

Voyager was, well, not as good. I watched it because I wanted more Trek, but it just really wasn't ever nearly as good as DS9 or as gee-whiz exciting as TNG. Captain Janeway was boring, the ship looked like an ugly garden tool compared to the sophistication of Picard's Galaxy-class Enterprise, and way too many stories and plot elements felt extremely recycled. And there was way too much pontificating about the universal correctness of the Federation way. Even Picard, who was a relatively straight arrow, would tell Starfleet Command to go fuck themselves every now and then. Janeway was a spineless ninny.

Then there was that Enterprise series. I've seen a few episodes, but I found it to have the exact same flaws that Voyager had without any of the benefits. It was just lame.

There were also a bunch of Star Trek movies. Some of them--like Generations or The Wrath of Khan--are decent or even good. Others--like Insurrection or the one where Captain Kirk literally finds god--are terrible. So, although I was excited on principle when I heard that a new Star Trek movie was in the works, I was cautiously optimistic at best. And almost every single piece of news that comes about about the movie--called simply Star Trek--has served to diminish that optimism.

First there was the news that the new movie wouldn't be about Jean-Luc Picard and the brand-spankin'-new Enterprise-E, but about Kirk and his crew. This is bullshit because there's still a lot of potential for stories involving the TNG crew. And the new ship is fucking badass. And besides, aren't Shatner and all the other people fucking 80 years old? I mean, Bones is dead! The solution comes in the form of the second piece of optimism-killing news: the new movie is going to be a prequel to the original series and involve Kirk and his cohorts at the Academy. Goddamnit, have we learned nothing from Star Wars? Prequels almost invariably suck. The third piece of news was slightly better, but not good: the thing's gonna be produced by the creators of Lost. Now, don't get me wrong, I think Lost is awesome. But it's also not anything like Star Trek. And it's not just that the subject matter is completely different, it's that the storytelling is completely different. Star Trek has never been about twists or super-complex plots. It's about--as corny as this sounds--human beings being the best they can be against the unknown. Still, J.J. Abrams is a talented guy, so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. But I swear--if there's even the hint of a smoke monster, I'm walking the fuck out of the theater.

But the most damning news was still to come. With the exception of Zachary Quinto--Sylar from Heroes--as a young Spock, the producers are making wacky casting decisions. While I like the fact that they're using mostly little-known actors to play well-known characters because that'll make it easier to buy the performances, the already famous people they're casting make no sense. Simon Pegg as Scotty? This isn't a parody, right? This is a real movie? So then why the fuck cast Mr. Pegg--as awesome as he is--in a role that demands an accent that's already ridiculous enough without a comedian in the role? But whatever. This thing still looked like it might not be a complete disaster.

But then the absolute worst piece of news came out. Tyler "I Can Cross Dress In a Fat Suit with the Best of Them" Perry is in this thing. You're surely thinking "well, that's not so bad. I mean, he comes into frame wearing a red shirt and then he evaporates. No harm no foul." No, fellow Star Trek fans, he has a much more prominent role than that. You see, he's apparently going to play the head of motherfucking Starfleet Academy.

That's crossing the line. That's a fucking set-on-kill phaser to the back. Fuck you, producers. Your movie's going to suck.

Update:
I've been doing some more reading on this topic, and I'm sorry to say that I've found even worse news than al that crap about Tyler Perry. It turns out that the movie's going to be written by the same assholes that brought us the Hercules and Xena TV series, The Legend of Zorro, The Island, and--and this is the worst part--Transformers. I'd say all hope of this being even decent--let alone true to the original in any way--is dead.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (9)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Movie Reviews , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Rants on the News , Television Reviews , Things I'm Irrationally Attached To

Attention Iron Chef America fans! What this trailer for a movie called I Am Omega, which is apparently a horrible, low-budget I Am Legend rip off.

Notice anything--or anyone--familiar?

It sort of blows my mind to see him in a different context. As long as there's no Mario Batali or Alton Brown sex tape, though, I'm fine with it.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 4:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)| Filed under Funny Shit , Things I'm Irrationally Attached To

Alright, I'm going to do this meme, mostly because the most interesting thing I can think of to write about tonight is the hammer that's sitting in the middle of my floor. Right where I walk all the time. Why is it there? I don't know. How long has it been there? For as long as I can remember? When am I going to move it? Probably when I move out. And those, despite my best efforts into turn the hammer into an interesting post that reveals something about myself, are the most interesting things I can say about the hammer. So here's the meme. It's supposed to be about how privileged (read:spoiled) you are. The things that are true about me are in bold.

1. Father went to college.
2. Father finished college.
3. Mother went to college.
4. Mother finished college.
5. Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor.
6. Were the same or higher class than your high school teachers.
7. Had more than 50 books in your childhood home.
8. Had more than 500 books in your childhood home.
9. Were read children's books by a parent.
10. Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18. I guess taekwondo. I also took violin and saxophone classes when I was in elementary school, but they were at school, so I don't think they matter.
11. Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18.
12. The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively.
13. Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18.
14. Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs.
15. Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs.
16. Went to a private high school.
17. Went to summer camp.
18. Had a private tutor before you turned 18.
19. Family vacations involved staying at hotels.
20. Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18.
21. Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them. When I originally filled this out, I read an implied "before you were 18" thing into it, which would have made my originally leaving it nonhighlighted correct. However, as NT is All In pointed out, there is no such restriction, so I've amended it to be correct: my mom is solely responsible for me driving around in a car as awesome as the seXterra.
22. There was original art in your house when you were a child.
23. You and your family lived in a single-family house. My mom actually managed to buy two houses on adjoining lots, one for her and me and one for my grandma. But it was Nogales, and property values there suck. And my family also lived in trailers when I was really young.
24. Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left home.
25. You had your own room as a child. The house I grew up in had four bedrooms but only two people lived in it, so it worked out really well.
26. You had a phone in your room before you turned 18. There was a phone jack in my room. I don't really think this is a big deal.
27. Participated in a SAT/ACT prep course.
28. Had your own TV in your room in high school.
29. Owned a mutual fund or IRA in high school or college.
30. Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16. I flew to California to see family several times and once to Boston for a school trip. However, I also went from Nogales to LA on a Greyhound once, and that was definitely not a mark of privilege.
31. Went on a cruise with your family.
32. Went on more than one cruise with your family.
33. Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up.
34. You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family. I had no idea how much anything cost when I was a kid. Subsequently, I do not understand the value of the dollar.

So, there you go.

Oh, and I got this one from Lily Graypure.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Quiz Things

Here's what I would do if I was Hillary Clinton. I'd call up Barack Obama and this is what I'd say:

Look, dude, let's do this. You drop out of the race. Then, when I win the nomination--and I will. I mean, c'mon, Richardson is a joke. And did you even know that Kucinich was still running? I know, isn't that crazy? Anyway, I mean, there's Edwards, but he's just such a huge tool... Anyway, you drop out of the race. Then, when I win the nomination, I promise to make you my running mate. That way, look, we save literally millions of dollars fighting against other Democrats. That's money we can use later to wipe the floor with whoever the Republicans pick. I know what you're thinking--you want to be president. I know, I get it, I do, too. But look--you're my VP for eight years, right? When I'm getting ready to leave office, you are my heir apparent! You're right fucking there to pick up where I left off! And here's the best part: You know how people--myself included--are being all harsh on you for not having any so-called "experience"? After eight years as VP, you can tell those fucks to suck themselves off! Do you see what I'm saying? Because you and I both know that the Republicans are going to hit you hard on your experience. They're going to say you can't stop terrorists or whatever the fuck! And what are you going to respond with? Are you going to cry? That's not going to help because the voters don't want a sissy-pants crier in the Oval Office--unless that sissy-pants crier is a woman, apparently. But they won't be able to knock your foreign-policy experience in 2016, fucking will they? No, they won't. So how 'bout it, Bammy, whataya say?

And If I was Barack Obama, I'd be all over that fucking deal. Because, seriously, this whole primary thing is a debacle. The Republican ticket is wide the fuck open, but there's no fucking way that the Democrats' ticket isn't going to have both Obama and Clinton on it in one order or another.

This is why I should be in charge of things. Although, if I was in charge, I guess there wouldn't be a presidential election, since I'd be dictator for life. But, whatever.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (13)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Political Rants

The new version of American Gladiators is awesome.

I just watched what is apparently the second or third episode. It was pretty fucking cool. The producers have somehow managed to keep all the things that made the original series so awesome--including most of the best events. In fact, the only omissions I care about are Atlasphere, in which the competitors and gladiators rolled around in giant hamster balls, and Human Cannonball, in which the competitors swung on ropes and tried to knock the gladiators off of pedestals. But the absolute best events--like Assault and Joust--are back and, in the case of the former, better. And there's an awesome new event called Earthquake, which is basically greco-roman wrestling on a platform suspended above water. And that's the other thing--remember how on the original show, anytime someone fell, they'd fall onto cushy pads? Not here. In the first of a few changes that make the show more similar to Ninja Warrior, competitors and gladiators fall into water rather than mats.

And the Eliminator--the final event during which any contestant can still win but the one leading in points is given a head start--seems pretty tough. In the episode I watched, none of the competitors were able to complete the whole course without falling. The only downside is that the Eliminator has two obstacles--the barrel roll and the hand bike--in common with Ninja Warrior. The result is that the Eliminator makes the American competitors look like pansies compared to the Japanese contestants on Ninja Warrior, some of which--especially Makato Nagano--are so amazingly badass that I'm honestly surprised that none of them fight crime in the city Batman style.

The gladiators are serviceable. None of them leaped out at me as being either really awesome or anywhere near as douchey as Malibu from the original:

The female gladiators are pretty mannish, especially Hellga:

Even the hosts aren't all bad--there's nothing wrong with Hulk Hogan or Muhammad Ali's daughter.

In fact, there's only one thing that really sucks about the new show--the ridiculous attempt to make it more reality oriented. I mean, I'm fine with getting some background on the competitors, but do they really need a chance to say some trite, stupid thing before each event? I think not. They should just compete and, in the cases of some, look hot.

Still, I set my DVR to record the series, and I don't think I'm going to regret it.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 11:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (9)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Television Reviews , Things I'm Irrationally Attached To

I've noticed that a lot of the people on a lot of the blogs I read are writing posts that pretty much say that they don't usually make new years resolutions, but that this year is different for some reason. Frankly, I think that's pretty lame. If you're going to do something, own it.

I don't usually make new years resolutions, but this year is different. Or not. And, actually, I've made new years resolutions before. But, whatever. The point is, I think I'm going to try to set some broad goals for this year. So, here they are:

1. Do new things. I'm straight stealing this one from pH and, in fact, it was a conversation with her tonight that inspired this post. But, seriously, Madison's got so many awesome things to offer, I want to take advantage of more of them. So thanks to pH and Mr. Vice for inviting me out to see Pat McCurdy. Seeing live music is nothing new for me, but it had been way too long since I'd done it. It was fun, and I really like fun, so I'm going to try to find other new things that I can do. Something I really wanna start doing is geocaching. It seems like a really fun way of getting outdoors and exploring the area in and around Madison.


2. Play live music again. I used to do open-mic nights with some frequency in college and, although I was never really good at it, it was a lot of fun. I haven't done it now in years, even though I'm a much better guitarist and singer. So I think I'm going to do it sometime soon.


3. Record a new album. It's been fucking years since I finished my first little set of songs, and I've been slacking on finishing new originals. So I want to get my ass in gear on those.

It's not a super-ambitious list, so I don't think I'm setting myself up for failure. And there aren't any professional goals because I'm going to be focused like a motherfucker on my career and my work--and my law firm. It's dumb to make resolutions about stuff that you have no choice but to concentrate on. No, my list is more about stuff that I need to remind myself to take time for, mostly because it relaxes me, it's fun, or because it makes me feel less like a boring old man.

So there you go.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , The Lovers of Sight and Sound

One time in college, I was at a movie theater with some friends. One of my friends and I were in the restroom just before the show. We washed our hands, and headed for the exit. I noticed that my friend took his long shirt sleeve and wrapped his hand in it before touching the door handle. "What the fuck are you doing?" I asked him. "Can you imagine all the people who come in here every day and don't wash their hands and then touch this handle? I don't want other people's shit on my hand." "You're a fucking retard," I responded. "Absolutely nothing bad will happen if you happen to touch something with your hand that someone else, at some indeterminate time, may have touched with a hand that may have touched their excrement or genitals," I said. My friend looked at me like I was crazy. So I did the only logical thing that someone in that position could do: I licked the door handle. And I didn't die or get sick or anything.

My point is that germophobes are stupid, paranoid people who take completely ineffective measures to protect themselves from made up threats. First of all, the human immune system is a bad-ass thing. It's been honed by millions of years of evolution to withstand all manner of microbial invaders. I'm sure that during the age when our ancestors were eating in one part of the cave and shitting in another, there were numerous instances when it all got mixed together. And let's also not forget that prehistoric hunters were probably not very well-educated about things such as salmonella and cross contamination. But our species not only survived, it thrived.

And nothing has changed now that we've discovered the microscopic organisms we share our living spaces with. Our bodies are ready and willing to beat the shit out of any foreign germs that might have designs on our well-being. Yeah, some slip through the cracks now and then, but, on the whole, our bodies do just fine repelling the sorts of organisms we inevitably come into contact with every day.

Finally, did my friend really think that using his shirt sleeve as a shield was going to protect him from anything? If he's working on the premise that deadly germs can be transferred from someone's ass to someone's hand the the door handle, does he really think that a soggy piece of cotton is going to keep the germs from migrating to his hand? That's just ridiculous. If you're the kind of person that flushes the toilets in public restrooms with your shoe, what do you think you're accomplishing? You probably wash your hands pretty often, but how often do you wash your shoe? Now you've got a little colony of germs on your shoe, ready to strike the next time you tie your laces. When you break these measures down, they're just habits aimed at preserving the person's psychological well-being, not preventing physical illness. And that's lame.

And here's one more thing--even though I opened the last paragraph with "finally"--how do these people that are all about tricking themselves into thinking that they're avoiding germs feel about oral sex? Or even sex generally? Sex--even safe sex--isn't an altogether sanitary experience. I mean, do these people want to institute Demolition Man-style restrictions on fluid transfers?

Seriously, guys, get your heads out of your asses--there are a lot of germs up there.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 10:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (10)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry

And so another year comes to an end and Here is No Why enters it's third year. 2007 was a huge year for me and for the blog. Here's a rundown of some of the more popular or interesting posts from the past year.

January
Happy International Here is No Why Day!
Unlike this year, I actually went home for the holidays last year. I spent New Year's Eve with my family, and it was a pretty fun time.

The Last First Day. A lifetime of being a student started to end, and I was feeling pretty confused and scared and excited by the whole thing. And I was so hopeful. We know how that turned out . . .

February
What a Disappointment.
I didn't used to be into football. That's a strange thing that changed. I also still maintain that Prince's performance was terrible.

Great News and a New Poll.
There was a lot of awesome new entertainment in 2007, and I was particularly excited about The Smashing Pumpkins' new album and the last Harry Potter book. As it turns out, Zeitgeist was one hell of a disappointment, but Deathly Hallows was fucking awesome.

March
The Kaplan Thing (Updated).
The whole Kaplan thing was an overblown debacle, and the longer it went on, the more I started thinking that the students were full of it. But perhaps the most outrageous thing was the spineless way in which the school administration dealt with it.

Hall of Fame.
Law Revue the show happened, and this was one of the better sketches.

April
Spring Break.
'Nuff said.

"Things Are Gonna to Change . . . I Can Feel It".
The end of Friday-night poker was a turning point in my young life.

May
My Plan for the Next Thirty-Six Hours.
Graduating from law school and doing all the related stuff was awesome, but it was exhausting, and I was ready to collapse after that weekend.

Tarantula.
The new song by The Smashing Pumpkins was decidedly underwhelming. And Paris Hilton was involved. What the fuck?

June
Fuck You, Universe! You Can't Beat Me!
This summer was a huge pain in the ass for more reasons than one. This day was particularly trying.

I'm Like a Piece of Trash.
I admitted for the first time--but not the last--that I was freaked out by the whole being an unemployed lawyer thing.

July
Zeitgeist.
Lots of things happened in July, and the release of a new album by The Smashing Pumpkins definitely counts as big news, even if it was pretty shitty.

At Least I Wasn't Wearing My Superman Ones.
I took the bar exam, which I had spent the entire summer preparing for. And while all of that was terrible, this story was kind of funny, I though.

Best. Book. Ever..
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows finally came out and, unlike Billy Corgan, J.K. Rowling did not disappoint.

August
35 Percent.
I went on a date and, as it turns out, was way too optimistic that she'd call.

Embracing My Destiny.
Unemployment started taking its toll.

Also, I turned twenty-six, although I don't remember what I did for my birthday and I didn't post anything about it.

September
Psych!.
Larry Craig is a fuck up, and I made fun of him.

"Wouldn't Hold out Much Hope for the Tape Deck, Though."
My fucking car got stolen!

October
The seXterra Abides.
I got my car back.

C'est la Vie.
I found out that I passed the Illinois bar, although my post about it was less than clear.

November
By the Power of Grayskull!.
I was admitted to practice law in Illinois . . .

Ismael Tapia II, Esq.
. . . and then Wisconsin.

December
The Ultimate Cure for Depression: Food.
Excellent food and great friends make for a good time, even if you're generally feeling pretty shitty about yourself.

There but for the Grace of God . . . .
Mr. Vice and I decide to head out on our own. Hopefully, the story of Tapia & Vice's rise to the top will occupy a large part of my blogging for 2008.

In any event, happy new year, everyone.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 5:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Existential Nonsense