I love editing and proofreading other people’s work for many reasons. I love finding mistakes—correction: other people’s mistakes. I love being right, and having someone acknowledge that fact. I love putting things “in order.” And I love answering questions like:
Q: When does a gang bang start? Two is regular, three is airtight, and four is foursome, so does five put you in gangbang territory?
A: Actually, it all depends on who is catching. For a woman, three is a regular threesome and your need four to go airtight (with one penis or penis-like substitute for every hole, at the same time). With a male catcher, three makes it airtight because there’s one less hole. A gangbang (also known as a train as in “we ran a train on her”), on the other hand, is one willing catcher (male or female), and multiple pitchers—usually three or more. When the catcher is unwilling, this becomes gang rape.
Q: If twin brothers ravage the same ass at the same time is that incest?
A: No. That’s plain old double penetration, or DP. Unless of course we’re talking about the ass of a sibling. Or cousin. Second cousins once removed are okay, though.
Q: Where are all the transgender hookers working these days now the old West Side Highway is basically gone?
A: Since the West Side Highway has gone all Javitz Center and the Christopher Street piers have gone all bike paths, public parks, family-friendly, most of the street-based working girls of the trans-type can be found on Roosevelt Avenue in Jackson Heights, Queens. And, many of them have come off the street and work in the comfort and relative safety of 900 numbers, Al Gore’s internet, and places like Backpage or Transgays.com.
Q: What did they call vaginas and penises in the old days, back when there were wenches and m’ladies?
A: Here’s a whole list for the vaginas and their assorted parts, on a historical time line. And another for the penis and its entourage. You won’t be surprised that the lady parts are mostly cozy and cute (mossy treasure, poontang), and the boy parts are mostly ego-driven and aggressive (skyscraper, arse-opener). Personally, I like a nice flap-doodle in my jampot now and then.
I recently found myself trying to talk an Executive team into allowing their employees the use of Facebook and Twitter. There’s a ton of already written about using social media for branding, building community, fund raising, etc. I’m not inventing the wheel here. But they are afraid people will waste time on Facebook and Twitter.
Of course they will, especially if you expect them to. Especially if you tell them NOT to waste time on Facebook or Twitter or Bebo.
In my experience, everything flows downstream. People act the way you treat them, the way you expect them to.
There’s also a ton of documentation already written about that as well – particularly in educational settings. If you expect the child to fail, to be disruptive, etc. there’s a good chance s/he will. And vice versa. If you expect them to shine, that’s probably going to happen as well.
The thing is, nine times out of ten, you get what you expect.
Growing up, I worked in restaurants. The Jolly Swagman was an Australian restaurant on Long Island. It was a family run business and they treated all of us like part of the family. Staff meals were delicious, the same fine food that was served to the customers. Nothing was off limits, we could eat or drink anything we wanted. I worked as a prep cook, spending a lot of time shelling cooked lobsters and crab into two giant sinks. One for the delicious cooled cooked meats and one for shells. The first night, as I worked, I ate my fill of chilled lobster, well within eye-sight of the manager.
That was the first and only time I abused their generosity.
Years later, I found myself working at an Italian restuarant and piano bar on 52nd Street and 2nd Avenue. I was in desperate need of a job, food, help. It was a bad time in my life, a time I should have been grateful for any hand up. Also a small family business, but here, staff meals were restricted to pasta dishes and on the very first day, I was told I’d be fired if I was caught eating a single shrimp.
We were all reminded of that with regularity.
And so, I stole pounds of shrimp and bottle after bottle of wine. Not that I couldn’t afford the wine. I could, I made pretty good money there. And of course, I was a much bigger drunk by the time I got to 52nd Street than I was on Long Island, but I got so much pleasure out of stealing something from someone who expected me to, who was waiting to catch me before they even met me and was ready to punish me the minute they did. If they already thought I was stealing and were just waiting to catch me, well, if the shoe fits, I might as well wear it, no?
Social media is a well designed time-suck but the point is, the time-wasting part is an administrative issue. People act the way you expect them to. I’m convinced that’s why I’ve never been in a Radio Shack, anywhere, where the staff is helpful or happy. Or why I’ve never been in an Old Navy where they weren’t.
We made it official two weeks ago. Well, semi-official. The offer was made and accepted, but there was still the ever elusive paperwork to bag. I worked. I worked again. And then came the great crash of 2010:
“We can only pay you two thirds of what we said we could pay you.”
Well, FYI, all three thirds was already slightly below what I needed to live on, but I thought, I love it here, it’ll all work out. I have faith. I have faith. I have faith.
Driving home, after the second week where the drive up took 90 minutes instead of the hour it’d been when I was volunteering…
How did that happen? I leave at 7:30am to drive 90 minutes to a job that can only pay me less than I make on unemployment and it costs me $20 in gas and tolls every time I go? But I really, really love it on the farm. I believe in everything they do, everything they stand for. The farm is all that is right with the world.
I have faith. I have faith. I have faith.
I checked in silently with god on the drive home – we do a lot of our talking during these long drives. It’s dark and the headlights of oncoming cars blind me over and over and over. I speak first. I usually do.
So, now what? How’s this gonna work? You have faith?
I do. Okey doke then, have faith. Trust me.
At once I become aware of the Randy Travis CD that’s playing. He sings “when you see me walk on water…”
Oh, you got jokes now? Now you wanna get funny with me? I’m a funny guy…
You, you are not actually a guy at all. Well, you know, whatev….
My god says whatev. I couldn’t have one that said “thou shalt” or “thou shalt not”. Or one that expected any sort of begatting from me.
Our conversations are silent. I can hear them; you can’t. Not even if you’re sitting next to me. Not even just my side of the conversation. This is why:
Outloud, a little later in the drive:
“Okay, god, so? Do I have a move, a plan, something” Silence “Oh, you don’t play that? You gonna act like you don’t hear me when I talk out loud? You don’t answer my out loud questions?”
And I hear, in my head No. And then I swear I hear a little far off giggle.
That’s one funny diety….I have faith. I have faith. I have faith….
The last time I had to look for a job I used a newspaper. A New York Times, the kind you buy at a newsstand, then use to annoy everyone on the subway. Before I had a life that demanded cruising the Times classifieds, I was a back of the Village Voice kinda gal. But, I haven’t had to look for a job since 1998, which means BCL (before craigslist), if you can believe it, before both Monster.com (1999) and before Craigslist New York (2000).
Even I have trouble believing it. And honestly, when my company folded, besides the fact that my industry was virtually disappearing, I wasn’t keen on finding another job right away. I haven’t been unintentionally unemployed since…high school? So I took a few months to relax, to write, to explore my options. There’s always the back of the Village Voice to fall back on if things got bad. Granted, I’m not hootchy cooch material anymore but there’d always be a waitressing gig or a bartending shift that had my name on it.
When I noticed a dip in my bank balances I really started putting effort into looking for work, setting up RSS feeds for job searches through Idealist, Monster, the Times, Craigslist. I send out a dozen or so resumes a day and thanks to the magic of the Worldwide Interwebs, I haven’t found it necessary to go to my corner newsstand and buy a newspaper, mostly because if you haven’t noticed, there really isn’t a “back of the Village Voice” anymore.
Waitressing and bartending gigs want headshots. Or that I work strictly for tips. Or supply my own customers. When did that happen? Where are the jobs that Flo would get if she weren’t still working at Mel’s diner?
At least 50%, maybe more, of the ads I answer on Craigslist are scams. Some are telemarketing scams that with online applications that can only be completed if you say you’re interested in furthering your education. Then you’re bombarded with annoying telephone solicitations, but no job interview ever appears. Others are phishing scams, masquerading as employment agencies or claiming to need credit reports or security clearance before even scheduling an interview. This is ACL (after craigslist) stuff, stuff that absolutely did not exist last time I looked for a job. There was no identity theft unless you lifted someone’s wallet. Here are a few of the bogus sites, but I’m sure there are dozens and dozens more.
I am contacting you to confirm that we have received your application for the Office Manager position you submitted to Employment Forever . We have recommended you as a potential candidate. In order to log in, follow the link below. This will allow you to confirm your availability to fill the position currently being offered:
A few of the phishing scams are Nigerian email scam style, like the long distance employer who wants me to handle his business affairs here and only asks that I fill in the following:
Full Address: (NO P.O.BOX)
City: State: Country: Zip Code:
Phone Number: Age:
Please attach any valid id if you have any
On Craigslist domestic gigs, because I have no problem with doing manual labor, I’ve found these, probably all from the same person:
Ge paid $30 to act (East Harlem)
Job will be done in my home today. Pay is $30. You must be able to act weird. Send me your phone number along with your description.
Cheer on (Harlem)
Cheer me on to exercise while i exercise. I dont have a gym, so, you have to do this job in my home. You can be a male or female of any age for this job. Pay is $10 hourly. job is around 3 hours long. I need you today. send me your name, age and phone number
I need someone to clean my room today for around $20 (Harlem)
Ths job wont take more then 2 hours.
Harlem, dude, and I assume you are a dude – all I have to say is, you’re lonely, you can’t spell and dude, you cheap like a mofo.
on a part time basis to assist mature male. this will be twice a month for 3 hours each visit. please be skilled at giving a deep tissue, full body massage as patient has mild osteoarthritis. both these treatments are ordered by the doctor and you will be given a great letter of reference if needed! this is a permanent part time situation. please leave contact info and the best time to call. thank you kindly.
Harlem’s posts have all been deleted and EnemaBoy’s are still there, so maybe he’s legit. Maybe, but that wasn’t exactly the kind of manual labor I had in mind. I’m not that desperate…yet.