<$BlogRSDUrl$>

Saturday, March 06, 2004

Time to open the mailbag!

An anonymous fellow (hint: his name is not an anagram for "hippopotamus") sent me an E-mail asking, among other things, if I think it would be okay (you gotta ask permission?) if he went downtown and bought some sex from his city's fine escorts, despite being a virgin and wanting to save himself for the one and yeah yeah. Despite having no authority on the subject but jumping at the opportunity to play sexual mother-may-I, I responded:

What do I think? First of all, who do I look like, freakin' Dear Abby? But second of all, I think that business-like sex sounds very enjoyable, if not on the same plane as, y'know, sex sex. So I doubt that having sex with a prostitute will, y'know, "spoil" you.

But hey! Don't go taking my advice seriously! It's entirely based on ninth-grade games of spin-the-bottle! I don't want to think that my actions will actually change people's sex lives!

--Leticia

(actually, it turns me on, but... Hey! You still reading this? Cut that out!)


Ahhh. Fine chap. Good luck with the sex w/prostitute if you decide to, as well as sex w/the one.

Okay, now we move onto another fine fellow, Jess Olson, who sent me the following message:

Your bottom line of "The terrorists want you to vote Democratic" is incorrect. The Dems will go to the UN, get international "approval" and actually find them. The Repubs will not do this, not find the terrorists and but waste plenty of money on star wars and the like.

I wholeheartedly agree; I was being sarcastic. But anyway, I think the real problem with our elephant friends is that they've made terror worse in these countries, like, you know, Africanistan or whatever it's called. And Eye Rack. I think that's what it's called. You sure?

(seriously, both countries are in a shithole, and terrorists are breeding like bunnies, all thanks to our Real American Hero in his Empty American Flightsuit and his Inflatable American Package. Did you just invade another one of the world's poorest nations, or are you just happy to see me?)

(Ewwww!! That's the LAST time I mention bush in the context of neocon erection. Moving right along...)

A letter from Brielle McKale gave me the serious warm fuzzies:

Well, I'm sure you get a lot of this, so I'm not going to give you any. That is, I'm sure you're up to your elbows in "Ohmygod it's like reading about my self" e-mails. So instead I'll keep this brief (which is difficult for me) and stick to the main reason I decided to pester you.

You saw the "I capture the castle" movie? I read the book two or three years ago (for the first time) and take it with me whenever I go on trips. When I heard that it was a movie I started to look all over for it. So it was done by the BBC? thankyouthankyouthankyou!

Um, you know what? I think it may be the cheesecake I have here, because I think I'm a little too excited about this video...

You should read the book. It's by Dodie Smith

Just out of curiosity, how many e-mails do you get from crazy people who think that they have some sort of connection with you because you bothered to type what everyone has been thinking for centuies but never said, leading us to believe that we are alone in what turns out to be inherent in all people? (Does that sentence make sense? If not e-mail me back and maybe I will be able to decode it, sadly, even I have not mastered Brielle yet, as those who use it exclusively tend to ramble on, like so)

love me anyways,
Brielle


Besides that this person needs to be my new best friend, and I have thusly rented out a dungeon with her name on it (and a dungeon with a TV and a backlog of sappy BBC movies, and a couch so we can slouch and eat jawbreakers while deciding which guy she's gonna marry; but the couch has shackles so that she'll never escape our friendly movie-watching, bwa ha ha), I sent her a lengthy and stammering reply in true Leticia form. Check it out:

To answer your question, very few, but they're my favorites. Especially women (my letters from men far outnumber from women, kinda makes me sad), 'cause it makes me feel like I have comrades.

Onward, my Leticia Squadron! Together we shall topple the sex-negative inclinations of the general public and put women's bodies in the place of sacredness and holiness that they deserve! (she says, defiantly pointing forward with her spatula and wearing a colander on her head.)

That said, I love your writing style. Nervous, cute, and intellectual, like the girls I meet sometimes at school and I really wanna be their friends but, being in the nervous boat as well, I have a tendancy to look at my shoes and play with my hair and look at the clock. But! One of these days...

(New year's resolution: no more self pity.)

But! "...you bothered to type what everyone has been thinking for centuies but never said, leading us to believe that we are alone in what turns out to be inherent in all people?" (puts arm behind head) Awww, shucks. I don't deserve that praise. Well, I do, but only because I'm so great. (blushes with fake modesty)

Toodles!

--Leticia

(I _should_ read the book. To tell you the truth, the images in the movie that struck me the most were the ones of female nudity; sacred and beautiful and wrought with passion, like a... jewel... that's really sacred and beautiful and passion-wrought... yeah I shouldn't try to write this at 1 am. But just the sacredness of it all [leticia, "sacred" three times in one E-mail, bad --editor Suzy] really took my breath away and gave me hope for the future. Or the present, that is. I wanna see more treatment of nudity like that. But I Capture the Castle will do for now. Meanwhile, I'm'a go capture a castle. And it'll have fuzzy read carpets and hourglass-shaped light fixtures with hints of sexual symbolism and a moat that all my hippie friends will play naked in. Yay!)

(Oh and here's the link:)

[I Capture the Castle DVD at Amazon.com]

(That said, run it backwards through the Movie Machine so that I can regain my human form. It's a bit cramped in this here clamshell case.)

(Oh, and is it okay if I print this letter? I know it's my rule, but still...)

(continuing from before: that is, the sacredness of female nudity represented is as though the vessel of our egos is as honorable as the egos themselves. I get really happy and selfless when I think of myself as not having and ego. Just a body, lost in the world, ready to make some change with this here vagina.)

(okay I'm done now. Bye bye)


To which she replied, with the blazing speed of an African or European swallow:

First and foremost, yes you may print anything I type to you. "Brielle" is my pseudonym (a name I stumbled across a while ago and carried with me ever since) so I've no secrets. (How could a ficticious person have any cares at all?)

Also (before I really get ranting - er - going), thank you for complimenting my writing style. I catch a lot of flack for it (considering my excessive and ultimately fuddling use of appositives, parentheses, and triple negatives). I also like the reassurance that I'm not in the nervous boat alone. I suppose we all know we're not alone -- how self absorbed would that be? -- but people get pretty good at hiding their weaknesses so it's easy to forget. Especially at my school, which is stocked with "ho-bags" (their phrase, not mine) who exacerbate all negative female and sexual stereotypes. I guess we could blame society for that too, making it socially acceptable to be brainless and proud of it. (I didn't grow up here, and have some theories about long-term side affects of the disinfectants used in our drinking water...)

Sacred... sacred... I feel that I ought to comment on that (seeing as you certainly did) But in what sense did you mean it? That the female body ought to be dedicated to one use? That it's holy? Or that it should be set apart for the worship of a diety? I think that people had the right idea in ancient Egypt where there were prostitutes for the everyday working stiff, but there were also holy prostitutes through which (i believe they believed) one could commune with the gods. I think that was a nice idea. I could go on for ever about theology, but that would make for a long, dull e-mail, and I might end up offending someone...

What I find the most irritating (yes, even more than not being able to move an inch without stepping on someone's toes) -- sex is the most touchy of topics because it was taboo for so long, but so long I don't think anyone remembers why something inherent in our nature is now "dusgusting" "vulgar" "inappropriate" etc. (unless you buy the "gift of shame" business in the Bible. But I've been skeptical of scripture since I found out about Lillith's omission.) It's also pretty frustrating that here we are, in the 21st century (we should be living on the moon, for crying out loud) but when we talk about repression, rights, and the way things ought to be men exchange "it must be that time of the month" glances, as if our justified feelings and well-articulated arguments are really just about a small flux in our hormones.

But will will smite them! Death to the non-believers! Appoint me, Brielle McKale your commanding officer and we will take over the world with our policies of food, education, and for god's sake Giving Peace a Chance! (I'm not as well informed as I ought to be to partake in most Bush-bashing sessions, but for crying out loud... sometimes war is inevitable. There's something to be said for tact, though)

love me anyways,

Brielle


That's all for now, folks! Join us tomorrow and Suzy will show you how to make peach cobbler out of one Leticia McKenzie and lots of foamy pink stuff, using only a spiked metal wringer and some pistons. Yay!
Comments: Post a Comment

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?