It’s not often that I get title remorse, but today it hit me that “Cocksucker. One word or two?” would have been the *perfect* title for my post last Wednesday. Since no one can turn back the hands of time—not even I—I’m saving this gem of a post title from obscurity by using it today, irrespective of its “relevance.” I will make every effort, however, to work in the sucking of cock, if at all possible.
Musical Accompaniment
You may have noticed that I recently debuted my first-ever humorous Venn diagram. (It’s in the comments.) Of course, it’s equally likely that you did not notice. In any case, yesterday marked my foray into a domain popularized (invented?) by Jessica over at indexed.
This occurrence was precipitated by a discussion earlier in the day, wherein I recommended indexed to Dylan. I referenced it as something similar to another of my fave Web comics, xkcd. I tried to describe the comic’s conceit to him, but in the verbal melee that occasionally *is* me attempting to articulate something, I let slip one of my most closely guarded secrets: I’m deeply ashamed that I cannot produce incisive, witty charts and graphs. I mean, *deeply*. Like, if I had to explain in four words why I am still: toiling in obscurity, single, in debt, driving a banged-up car, listening to shitty music from the ’80s, what have you … my reply would simply be, “It’s the Venn diagrams!”
I’m only partially joking.
I know it’s insane. I KNOW. I know. I know. I know.
Considering all the god-given talents I lack, that I mourn an inability to translate my sense of humor to pie charts and bar graphs is a tragedy most foul.
I can’t sing. I can’t play bridge or backgammon or chess, even. I can’t paint. I can’t do a backflip or put my legs behind my head. I can’t calculate a net present value. I can’t ride a bike with no hands. I can’t talk for very long without saying “fuck” or “like” or “shut. UP!” I can’t breakdance. I can’t play the harmonica. I can’t tell jokes. I can’t perform brain surgery … or any kind of surgery, for that matter. I can’t peel an apple in one long ring. I can’t burp on demand or whistle using my fingers. I can’t understand bookmaking or odds. I can’t get my dogs to sit or roll over or, ya know, pee on wee-wee pads.
Well, you get my drift. The unordered list beneath the Things I Can’t Do H1, on the about page of the Web site of my life, oh, she is substantial. Why then do I fixate on Venn diagrams? I wish to christ I knew. I suspect it’s tied up somehow with my notions about “the ideal woman.” She should be: blazingly smart, sexy as fuck, witty, fierce, kind, engaging, generous, etc. … AND able to create cleverly droll, geeky Web comics. To wit:
[2:21] Dylan: what was that link you were going to send with the Venn diagrams?
[2:21] Kiki: oh, oh … lemme find
[2:23] Kiki: ok, so if i send u this link, u have to promise u wont fall in love, cuz it’s a girl that does it
[2:23] Kiki: that would only confirm my worst fears about my own shortcomings
[2:24] Kiki: or i guess u can’t promise not to fall in love, but promise if u do u will lie to me about it
[2:24] Kiki: ok?
[2:25] Kiki: omG : (
[2:25] Kiki: she got a book deal
[2:26] Kiki: *crying silent tears of anguish*
[2:27] Kiki: i warn u … it’s funny
[2:27] Kiki: GAAAAHHHHH!
[2:28] Kiki: though, in my defense, i did not let my intense jealousy prevent me from voting for her for a webby
[two minutes pass]
[2:30] Kiki: see?!?!? i’ve lost u to her already
[2:30] Dylan: meh
[2:31] Dylan: it’s no lolcats
[2:31] Kiki: ur just saying that to make me feel better
[2:31] Kiki: but i’m ok with that
[2:31] Dylan: i guess it’s kinda funny, but no literal lol yet
[2:31] Kiki: it’s clever … i don’t know that it’s lol-inducing
[2:31] Dylan: it is clever
[2:32] Kiki: I WANNA BE CLEVER!!!! WAAAAAAAAAAA
[2:32] Dylan: you wanna be clever (which you already are) or you want to be recognized by a large niche online market as clever?
[2:33] Kiki: oh, ur gonna make me admit i wanna be adored by faceless masses?
[2:33] Kiki: i’m not sure we’re there yet
Yep. I’m pretty sure I will die alone.
The circle charts are like a visual version of the old joke “Whats black, white and red (read) all over?” While the one about prarie dogs made me giggle most of them left me thinking I should have chicken for lunch. But fear not my raven haired beauty, your inspiration lies in the pages of Mad magazine.
As for what form the word or phrase cocksucker should take I think that decision should reflect the versatile nature of the word,, or phrase. Here is an example:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qkG35s_tXLw&NR=1
I’m happily to be your “faceless mass” if you’re happy to dress up like Madonna in that peep show video of hers from 1986.