Most recent distraction: Classical Cats

In the library today when I was technically supposed to be finishing my research for this archaeology paper due monday, I stumbled upon the most amazing book that I am now reading for pleasure: Classical Cats: the Rise and Fall of the Sacred Cat, by Donald Engels. It's a fun read and I'm 3/4 of the way through it now. I bet you can guess what I'm NOT 3/4 of the way through!!! I just finished the section on the history of cats in Greece, and I was inspired to post this picture of me in the ancient Greek city of Ephesus...with a kitty!

Sometime, ask me about the Linear B syllabogram "ma" that looks like a kitty cat if you want to hear my stupid impression of ancient vs. modern cat sounds (or at least how humans recreate them).

wiener in the wind!

Bronze tintinnabulum shaped like a stylized phallus in the form of an ithyphallic rampant griffin, from Herculaneum, 1st c. AD (Now in the Museo Archeologico Nazionale in Naples).

Yes, this is a dick-shaped griffin with a dick of its own and a tail that is also shaped like a dick. Don't forget the wings, either. It once functioned as a wind chime, which was believed to keep away evil forces. And yes, this is the origin of the wind chimes that we still keep...I'm looking at one on my balcony right now. Those Romans thought of everything, dammit.

I strongly support a movement toward bringing back the penis chimes. They would function similarly to their Roman ancestor chimes, keeping away a contemporary idea of "evil forces": fundamentalist Christians, bratty children, homophobes and the like. However, I don't believe this to be progressive in any way, given how men would react to objectification. They just couldn't handle it...

Blackfinn will fuck you up.

I was also informed of this hilarious article in last Thursday's Enquirer:

A good night or a bad one?
When police find you lying on a downtown sidewalk without shoes and a shirt, covered in vomit and able to only utter one word, is that the mark of a bad night – or a good one?

Police arrested Trevor McCombe, 23, of Ft. Wright, Ky., early this morning after receiving a call of a “man down.”

McCombe was wearing only white shorts, according to police and court records, and was only able to say “Blackfin,” which may or may not have referred to BlackFinn, a downtown bar and restaurant.

Police couldn’t find anyone to call in McCombe’s cell phone, and he couldn’t recall his address.

McCombe was arrested at 3:30 a.m. on a charge of disorderly conduct and is set to appear in court Friday afternoon.

While the title is priceless, my favorite part of this article is the fact that the newspaper made an attempt to disaffiliate the drunk loser with the downtown establishment he was "uttering" by removing one of the n's from the spelling.

Findlay Market Rib Patrol

Today I ventured downtown to Findlay Market for the very first time. In line at the butcher, an obese black man asked for a couple racks of ribs. I couldn't help but chuckle on the inside when I overheard his request, as it immediately brought to mind this Dave Chappelle skit:

Cunning Linguists in the Roman Empire

Fourth style wall painting. Probably Neronian, with Vespasianic overpainting. From the south wall of the apodyterium of the Suburban Baths in Pompeii.

So the caption in the catalogue under this image reads: "Scene of Cunnilingus." tee hee hee!...I am still giggling...

Keep in mind that this is before Christianity had really taken off, so there was no doctrine that condemned open, public sexual acts. You could just go to the baths, get some face and call it a day.

GET IT GURRRRLLL! YEAH SON!

Crazy critter

Not really going with this week's theme (although ferrets are believed to have been domesticated by the Romans, and there is a reference to balls...) I just found this photo and cracked myself up. Nothing can brighten my day like a funny ferret picture.

June 3 - June 10: Painting Sex Week

So this next week (Wednesday through Wednesday) my blogs will be concerned with paintings depicting sexual acts, drawn largely from the Roman world (the Augustan period, if you really wanted to know).

Why am I doing this? 3 reasons:

1. They are pretty funny!

2. All of my time this week will be spent looking at these fuckin' things anyway for my research.

3. I would most certainly rather be getting laid than working on this long-ass research paper. Admittedly, I am jealous of some of the subjects in these paintings!

Today, I have selected a painting of someone who never really got laid (kind of like me right now). This is a portrait of Priapus, god of fertility, fruit, livestock, among other crap. He has a great story: His mother Aphrodite was preggers with him when Paris proclaimed Aphrodite to be more beautiful than Hera. Of course, Hera gets pissed and curses Priapus (only a fetus at the time) with impotence and a filthy mind. Growing up, Priapus was perpetually dirty-minded, horny and limp. There are numerous tales of his failing attempts to rape nymphs, ect. Eventually, he is so plagued by lust that he is "cursed" with a huge, permanent erection that is actually so large it impedes his movement. This is how he is typically portrayed in art: with a huge dick.

In the wall painting I have selected today, this portrayal is no different. In this painting (4th style fresco from the House of the Vetti in Pompeii, 45-79 AD), Priapus leans against a ledge while holding a set of scales. With these scales, he weighs a money bag against his penis.

What do I see when I look at this painting? A painting of a man, by a man. Why? Any woman who saw this would react one of two ways - by laughing or crying. On the other hand, Men seem to be preoccupied with associating penis-size with ego, character and "manhood". The Roman poet Martial writes in his Epigrams about the attention given to a well-endowed man:

"Did you hear approval rise thunderously from the baths? You can be sure Maro's huge cock has appeared." (Epigrams IX.33)

Men are the ones who think having a big dick is so important. Or at least, important enough to quantify through measurement. Likewise, from what I've heard men don't care too much about how much a woman weighs (which is one of our notorious hang-ups). Women are either sexy or they are not. Men either have nice weiners (among other attributes, of course), or not so much. fuck measurement.

After looking at this painting for a while, I found myself thinking more about eating those grapes in the bowl by his feet than having sex with a wang that large (which is a very unpleasant thought, actually). Yes, eating. Not weighing myself. In fact, I think that stepping away from the scales is perhaps one of the most liberating things that a woman could do to rid herself of physical insecurities and anxieties.

In the end, we'd all be much better off eating, drinking, laughing and fucking. Is that, by any chance, a legitimate job description? I'm at a point of transition in my life, so I'm very open and flexible to bold changes in my career path.

Beer Prices linked to cases of STD's

I'm planning a keg party, so i just typed "cheap beer" into the google search bar. The artcle below from About.com was one of the top hits. Although it was published in 2003, it still made me chuckle.

CDC Says Cheap Prices Have a Direct Effect

Cheap beer prices may a have direct effect on increases in sexually transmitted disease (STD) among young people, according to a report from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
Everytime beer taxes go up or the legal drinking age is raised, gonorrhea rates usually dropped among young people, according to Alcohol Policy and Sexually Transmitted Disease Rates --United States, 1981--1995 published April 28, 2000 by the CDC.

The report says raising the tax on a six-pack of beer by only 20 cents could reduce gonorrhea by up to nine percent among young adults, who are more likely to develop STDs than older adults.

High Risk Behavior

According to the report, young persons who drink alcohol may be more likely than persons who abstain to participate in high-risk sexual activity, such as unprotected sexual intercourse or multiple sexual partners.
If alcohol consumption promotes risky sexual behavior (disinhibition caused by the effects of alcohol), state government alcohol policies, such as alcohol taxation and minimum legal drinking age requirements, might reduce STD incidence among adolescents and young adults.

Higher alcohol taxes and increases in the minimum legal drinking age have been associated with lower incidences of adverse alcohol-related health outcomes (e.g., motor-vehicle crash-related deaths, liver cirrhosis, suicide, and violent crime, including domestic violence).

The study examined the association between gonorrhea rates and alcohol policy indicators -- alcohol taxation and drinking age requirements -- in the 50 states and the District of Columbia during 1981-1995.

Drinking Age and Taxes

Most state beer tax increases were followed by a relative proportionate decrease in gonorrhea rates among young adults during the time period.

This relation was greater for gonorrhea rates among men than women.
Most minimum legal drinking age increases were followed by a relative proportionate decrease in the gonorrhea rate, and this majority was significant among 15-19-year-olds but not among 20-24-year-olds, who would have been less effected by the changes in the law.

Reducing alcohol use and risky sexual behavior among young persons are two national health objectives the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. Healthy People 2010 Conference. Higher alcohol prices and improved enforcement of minimum legal drinking age requirements have been highlighted as potential strategies to reduce alcohol consumption by youth.

Created: June 15, 2003

aw piss!

I have been awake for over 30 hours now. I just presented my research proposal in roman archaeology and got ripped apart (and I even talked loudly, Bryan!). It is also raining on the day that I planned on taking it easy and tanning by the pool This fuckin' sucks. I am not cashing in my lotto ticket from last weekend until things start to look up...or until my horoscope predicts that I am good to go. I've got more work this week than I've had in a REALLY long time, and look at what my horoscope tells me:

"Morgane,
If you don't accomplish what you set out to do this morning by the end of the day, it won't be for lack of trying. Yes, I am fuckin' aware of this...I am completely surrounded by books and I just busted my ass to present an idea that got shot-down on the spot. Today is best utilized for working towards a goal rather than creating or finishing one. I agree, I am feeling horribly unproductive and sleep deprived. Do not start anything new until you have completed your current projects. thanks for the advice. Letting go of your own agenda may give you the freedom you seek."

In this 30 hour period, I have looked at over 200 wall paintings from Pompeii and the surrounding area and my eyes feel like they are going to bleed. I did, however, find some AMAZING images that I am planning on scanning and posting. Erotica in Roman painting. It will crack your shit up.

I am ready to peace out of archaeology. I'm really tired of pretending like glorified, overcomplicated creative writing is science. Science wears me out. In the end, archaeology is a discipline fabricated by man not to create, but to instead destroy what others left to the earth. All to make our privileged white selves feel important because we have "history and legacy". Can you tell I'm burnt out? I love history, and I'm talkin' shit.

okay, i'm gonna stop now and instead I am gonna post some funny paintings of big wangs and crazy sex scenes.

"Fuck that, cause I ain't the one, for a bald motherfucker with a badge and a gun..."

As of yesterday, this is my theme song. I had a pretty ridiculous experience with a cop yesterday:

I was on my way to a cookout with some people from work, where I was running late because I had to bring a dish that took longer than I anticipated to cook, and I also had no clue of where I was going.. I got pulled over for driving 5 over the speed limit. As soon as I stopped, I went into "panic" mode and shuffled to find the papers in my glove compartment to hand to the cop. Meanwhile, this retard is desperate to strike up whatever conversation he can. An excerpt:

cop: "Somethin' in here smells really good,"
me: "I was on my way to a cookout with some friends,"
cop: "This cookout must be on *name of my street*"
me: "No, actually it's somewhere across the river,"
cop: Do you know how I knowed that?"
me: "How?"

The dumb ass then points to the starting address on the google maps driving directions that were laying in the passenger's seat, looks at me, and grins. I was not in the mood to entertain anyone, as this guy was fuckin' up my afternoon. I couldn't find my proof of insurance, so the cop told me to hold on for a second so he could go back to his car and write me a ticket (or do whatever cops mysteriously do when they leave you to fidget around in their cruisers).

So, I was sitting in my car waiting....and waiting...and all of the sudden, another cruiser AND one of those tricked out po-leece Tahoes pull up behind me, all with lights on. WTF? I am young, white and blonde! What's this all about? They begin to consult with each other, and the cop who initially pulled me over was vigorously writing things down. This whole time (lasting about 30 minutes), I was shakin in my boots because I didn't know if I was ridin' dirty or what was the deal!

Finally, they part ways, and the original cop approaches me with a ticket in his hand. I showed him my proof of insurance that I had finally found in a random pocket of my owner's manual. This is what the cop told me:

"Now miss, I wasn't goin' to write you for the missing proof of insurance, only speeding. You were going 5 over, but I decided not to write you for that. Instead, I just wrote you for going 1 over." He acted like this was a HUGE favor, which was NOT the case.

Were you aware of the penalty for going ONE MILE PER HOUR over the speed limit (in a 35 MPH zone) in the state of Kentucky?$140 fuckin' dollars! Do you know how much the fine is for going 5 MPH over? $144 dollars. A fuckin' 4 dollar difference. THIS is the result of this half-hour long collaboration between 3 law enforcement officials? You must be fuckin' kidding me!!!!

When I saw this in the paperwork, and the cop asked if I had any questions, I said to him in a monotone voice, "Your leniency and generosity knows no bounds... thank you officer." When he walked away, I said at least 50 curse words (some in french) under my breath because I was so ridiculously pissed off.

I would think not being in possession of proof of insurance, if that had ended up to be my case, to be far more of a serious offense than going 5 over the speed limit. If he hadn't written me up for that, and something tragic happened, I think being insured would be far more significant than driving slightly faster than you should be. However, logic obviously played no part in this decision.

This is typical of the po-po in the suburbs. Nothing to do, quotas to fill. However, last night karma got these local cops and I witnessed first hand a pretty awesome fist fight at the Levy between first, 2 drunk guys, then the cops who tried to break it up and got a little more than they bargained for.

Minnie and I were driving from downtown bars to the hofbrahaus. Traffic around there was crazy, and I had gotten in the lane that I thought I needed to be in to park. However, the car in front of me had just stopped in the road. Yup, they put it into park right in front of us. Cars were fast and numerous in the other lane so it was impossible to get over to pass these fools. So, my headlights were shining right on this car when the passengers of each of the cars get out, and start yelling and shoving each other. Fists begin to fly, and shit starts to get crazy. These guys are playin' dirty - I think I saw one kick the other in the ribs!

The cops who hang by hofbrahaus finally see what we had been watching from the front row for a few minutes, and sprint over to break it up. Well, it wasn't so easy for the piggies. Those fighting guys weren't having anyone else involved in their altercation, and they started kicking the cops' asses! Literally, they had them on the ground beating the shit out of them! The whole time, Minnie and I are watching from my car, and I'm yelling at her to record it on her black berry so we could youtube it (and post it on this blog!) But, we couldn't get it going in time. We had drank enough beers to be entirely okay with singing the song from "C.O.P.S": ..."bad boys bad boys, whacha gonna do?...." While this fight was taking place. It was pretty funny, and we were cracking ourselves up. The cops eventually got a handle on the situation and pinned those guys down, but it lasted for a while and I was impressed at the intensity of the situation.

I just realized that in the past month, I've seen 3 street fights with either my girlfriends or my mother. I haven't seen shit like this since I left southeastern Kentucky! It's such a crazy world we're living in!

I feel like this is sort of one of those "what goes around, comes around" moments: Some fuckstick tries to fill his quota at the end of the month by writing me a ticket for going 1 mph over, so some of his amigos get their asses whooped by a drunk at a biergarten while two girls sing the the COPS theme song from their car.