Last night at the fifth successful Tex in the City party, I spoke to a recently converted New Yorker from Houston, Texas. We were having a very lively discussion about Dick Cheney and Haliburton, which segued into Enron. He said, “Enron did a Trade Center, pppfffffttt collapsed, gone.” This clever little ditty even included a hand gesture. In the same vein that “going postal” is used to describe crazy behavior, will “Trade Center” come to mean the end of something? Is an onslaught of tacky jokes soon to follow? Ohhh, I shudder at the thought.
Tattoos. Now what, just what I ask, would possess someone to get a tattoo on their bicep of a kama sutra position? Yes, this monstrosity of a choice was spotted by yours truly on the train the other day. Egads! The horror! Three questions sprang to mind:
(1) Why a sexual position on your arm for all the world to see?
(2) What do you do when visiting grandmama a hot summer day?
(3) When was the last time you attempted that position let alone accomplished it?
Regarding item #3, this man has never pulled off this act. Ever. Impossible. His stomach protruded like he had just swallowed Pluto. There is no way he could persuade a woman to do this with him let alone maneuever her into this tricky position. If he could…well, now that I would pay money to see!