This might be one of the better covers I’ve heard in a while. Still nowhere close to Devo’s take on “Satisfaction,” but danged good. The fact that the video syncs to the vocals really brings it home, though, and that’s what makes it awesome. Behold:
I'm pretty sure the happiness comes from the beard.
It’s the age-old question that even Freud couldn’t answer. What do women want? Really, it’s not all that more complicated than what men want. It’s just different.
When it comes down to our inter-sex relationships, we are still driven by the reptilian part of our brain that wants merely to survive and leave behind heirs. Men look for women with a small waist, which is indicative of health, wide hips for child-bearing, and large breasts to feed that baby. There is only a very small portion of men’s bodies that are required for reproduction (some smaller than others), so women aren’t as concerned with what a man looks like, although we are fans of virility signs–i.e., tall, dark, and handsome. What we look for is someone who will provide and protect the young. Build a safe nest, guard against predators, and make sure the kids are fed after we stop spewing milk.
No matter how feminist a woman is, if she’s straight, she wants a man. Trust me, I can do just fine on my own. I’ve installed window a/c units, fixed stereos, and moved furniture all by myself. I’m a commitment-phobe who has had a boyfriend for a total of 5 months out of my 31.5 years. But the best compliment I can give a man is “I feel safe with you.” It has less to do with physical power–although that’s a factor–than it is about knowing a man can handle a situation. When shit hits the fan, he has an umbrella. I want, and women want, a man we can trust, not just with our hearts but our lives.
There are a couple things we look for to know that a man is what we want. Here’s your handy-dandy guide to becoming that man.
Women have pretty low expectations of men. Congratulations on spending thousands of years cultivating that, by the way. But there is no amount of gender equality progress that will override our biological instincts, so quit worrying about whether you should open the door, and open the damn door.
Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/zieak/3557351492/in/set-72157618294204457/
Wow. This might be the worst/best rendition of “Enter Sandman” I’ve ever heard. Ever. At least we get the faceplant out of the deal.
While I appreciate the sacrifices of our police officers and their families, I can kind of see why there aren’t the best police-community relations in Cincinnati. After racking up three disappointing experiences, I’m at a loss as to how to improve them.
When I was in graduate school at University of Cincinnati, I lived alone in a quad-plex in Clifton Heights. A couple years after I had moved in, someone broke into my apartment and stole my laptop. I arrived home from a fun night at the bars and saw that my laptop wasn’t on my desk. After checking the bedroom, I saw a broken window and screen. I called the police around 2am.
At 6am, there were still no police on the scene. While I realized there were probably all sorts of crimes going on that were more important than my stolen laptop, I had asked what time I should expect the police–should I go to sleep, wait up, what should I expect? For all they knew, I was alone in my recently-broken-into apartment (I wasn’t–my friend K was with me). I called at 3:30, and again at 4:30. Mind you, I was not calling 911–I was calling the administrative desk at my district police station. When I called at 5:30, they told me they were going to give me a ticket for harassment if I didn’t stop calling. This wasn’t Duke Energy I was waiting for–I was waiting for police.
Next time I’m robbed, I’ll be more considerate.
Not long after that I was involved in a car accident. The kind where I’m crossing the street on a dark, rainy November evening, and a car hits me and then takes off. I landed on the sidewalk, and sat there on the wet concrete while my friend insisted on calling 911. Finally the fire trucks and police cars arrived, and some very handsome firefighters helped me inside (I love firefighters). They determined I should go to the hospital, as my knee was the size of a basketball, so my friend took me there.
When the police officer arrived at the hospital, I assumed it was because they had found the driver who had hit me. It turns out, he was there to give me my jaywalking ticket. I had been under the impression that being hit by a car was enough of a deterrent to prevent future crossing the street outside the lines, but he had to make sure that my wallet was hurt too. He also mentioned that if they found the driver, I might be held responsible for any damage my knee caused to their fender. For the record, nobody filed a claim against me, and my health insurance finally agreed to cover my ER visit (“Why isn’t your auto insurance covering this?” “Because I was walking!”).
These, however, pale in comparison to the experience a friend of mine had last week. A friend, whom I’ll call Alan, was robbed at gunpoint after leaving a bar in the downtown/OTR area. They made off with his wallet and the keys to his house and his car. He came back to the bar, where we called 911. The police were much quicker this time, but only in getting to the scene. I hate to be thought sexist or ageist, but when I saw our officer was a woman barely older than my niece, I thought, “oh fuck.” She did a great job of writing things down in a little notebook, but when I asked if there was an officer going to my friend’s house (only a ½ block from where he had been mugged) since they had keys to his car and home, she held her hand out at me and said, “please, let me finish.”
The best part? When she asked Alan if he would be able to recognize the men who held him up, and he said yes, she said, they have found an African-American male wearing a black ball cap. Alan said, “No, he was wearing a knit hat.”
She replied, “Well, he’s wearing a hat.” I guess if they were able to round up every black guy wearing a hat in Cincinnati, we might have found the guys. Thank goodness Alan wasn’t wearing a hat–since he’s black, she might have arrested him.
I know that there are a lot of great men and women out there on the street, risking their lives to keep us safe. But the great majority of the interaction that police have with citizens isn’t the life-and-death situations. It’s stuff like this, where people are getting screwed over by people and then finished off by the cops. There are some ideas for improving police-community relations (in Detroit, we had the Blue Pigs–a group of officers who went to schools, playing basketball and featuring a band… seems even more appropriate to have Blue Pigs here in Porkopolis). But when my bad experiences far outweigh the good (thanks to that one officer who was very nice when a lady I rolled into at a stoplight wanted me to get, at minimum, the death penalty for the irreparable damage I caused to the trailer hitch on her GMC Yukon), it becomes a question of bothering to call them at all.
Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/7-how-7/37504570/
…and here’s your dose of WTF for today.
Who gave you the right, indeed, dude.
I noticed this thingy appear yesterday and thought it strange that our dear newspaper is trying its hand at yet another blog. This one, though, seems to have a lot less direction:
Our goal is to lend a megaphone to Greater Cincinnati and find out what’s on your minds. From politics to pop culture, there’s always that one topic that everyone seems to be talking about, and that’s what Opinionati is all about.
Um, yeah. Isn’t that what the newspaper itself is for? And all their other blogs?
This does, however, make me wonder what their overall plan is, because the Opinionati blog looks like an attempt to throw more crap at the wall to see what sticks. Maybe they’re finally going to make the move to turn comments off on all their news stories and this blog is intended to be the “sounding board” that the many racists and assholes commenting at the Enquirer’s site apparently need so badly. I don’t know.
So, Enquirer–you’re looking for what’s on our minds? Here’s a list.
So, hope that helps!