For Valentine's Day, I'm presenting an extremely accurte portrait of the non-reciprocated love I have for Winston. What happens above happens almost daily. We torture each other, I suppose.
BTW, if you're wondering whether I'm writing about the Grammys, I'm not -- but I tweeted about it throughout the ceremony, as I'm wont to do with awards shows these days. This method really beats watching the show, then grabbing screen shots, then putting it all together and staying up till 5 am in the process, let me tell ya.
After my Internet disaster last week, I figure I should return to regular posting by going with what I know: cats. Here's a re-edit of a VHS my boyfriend found called From Cats to Kittens, featuring a woman named Ann M. Childers being weird, celebrating contact with cats' genitals and espousing all kinds of information that you do not need whatsoever. Mysteries regarding stool, the color of cat food and which sex of cat is responsible for pregnancy are all revealed!!!
Nothing better illustrates the divide between alien and cat than the fact that Winston could literally wear a wig, sneeze and have over 90,000 people watch it, while Rudy...folds socks. And not even, since he's a cat and doesn't have any sense of folding! Still, the video above comes closer to anything I've put together to illustrate Rudy's own brand of feline weirdness. He's really possessive over those damn socks! And I think it's just out of princple. I don't think he has a major stake in the socks. I don't think he even likes them very much. He just wants to be bitchy. Or catty, as it were.
For the next several days, I'll be touching on stuff that happened and/or was released last year that I never got around to writing about. We all need ways to make our year-to-year transition easier -- this is mine.
Last November, a news story went around regarding the mechanics of cats' tendency to drink water while staying relatively dry (as opposed to sloppy dogs). If only I'd had it together, I could have opportunistically posted this relatively...dry video of Winston drinking out of his bowl. Oh well, for now, let the sounds of a cat lapping at water soothe you into the new work year. It's like an inside waterfall but, in light of the story above, scientific. Behold Winston's balance with the forces of gravity against the forces of inertia!
It's been a while since I posted a slice o' life on Winston. The video above has several slices. As you can see, he's been extremely busy, with a rich, fulfilling life full of a range of activities. That's why it's been so hard to get him to sign off on a new video.
I've been really into Taschen's coffe-table bio of vintage porn icon Vanessa del Rio, subtitled Fifty Years of Slightly Slutty Behavior. The book was previously available in exorbitantly priced special editions but finally came out in a reasonably priced edition earlier this summer. I love the idea of context separating porn from art, as though these outrageously raunchy, almost sickly saturated images of a crazed self-appointed slut are elevated to higher culture because they're blown up and bound in a book that you can't hold with one hand. I don't think that there's a frame classy enough in the country to make a DP shot move your soul (rather than your pants), but hey, it's a fun thing to explore all the same. It's funny and outrageous like Vanessa herself.
Throughout the book is a biographical interview with Vanessa and she is awesome: unabashed to a near-mythic level (she says she's never had a bad sexual experience, which is somewhat hard to believe coming from an active porn star who also turned tricks), somewhat political (she calls herself the biggest feminist ever, not in reference to her giant boobs but her belief in freedom to do "whatever the fuck you want," especially sexually) and utterly outspoken (pious types, like the nuns she was terrorized by in Catholic school, are all "repressed whores"). The most shocking thing she talks about is how much she enjoys her enlarged clit that came as a result of steroid use during her period of body-building in the mid-'80s (she calls her thing-thing a plus compared to drawbacks like bacne and body hair). I would have clipped her rhapsodizing her small penis-like genitalia (no hypocrite, she embraces labels like "hermaphrodite" and "drag queen"), except that part's not on the 2-hour+ DVD of an interview interspersed with vintage clips that accompanies the book.
But what's above is, and it's even better. In the clip, Vanessa explains that after getting her male cat, Tarzan, fixed, she bought him a "deluxe" set of replacement silicone balls to fill his sac. "I didn't want him to have a shriveled up, hairy sac, with nothing in it," she explains. I think it's an aesthetic thing? Cat's are, after all, terribly, terribly sensitive. She elaborates and it's all pretty insane ("I got him to match my house!" she gushes of his leopard print). If you went into a lab and mixed up tacky porn-star brain chemistry with that of a crazy cat lady, this is exactly the sort of thing that would come out. And really, any discussion that begins, "OK, I'm going to explain my cat's balls," is obviously a discussion worth listening to.
Cats eating watermelon on YouTube are sohotrightnow (like, really, really, reallyhot). We know that, Winston lovesfruit, but we also know that he isn't normal. How will he possibly reconcile his fruit addiction with his abnormality? The results above may surprise you. (But probably not.)
(The idea for this video came from reader Sarah G. Her brain power is greatly appreciated.)
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