The Humble Toothpick And The Story Of A Meat Tooth

Sometimes you know you’ve got something stuck in your teeth and since you’re in polite company you’ve got to pretend it isn’t there. Well, most of us do anyway. As soon as you get somewhere semi-private the fingernail or edge of a paper is deployed on a particle finding mission. There’s nothing quite like the relief you feel when you dislodge that hunk of meat or vegetable from your teeth. It’s satisfying on a physical level (no more annoying feeling of something that’s just not right in your buccal cavity and your tongue breathes a sigh of relief from the knowledge it no longer is tasked with a job it was not designed to do) and on an emotional level because you know you can now smile freely without the inhibition that gripped you while you had the hunk of food in your tooth. I grew up in a time when going to the dentist meant new cavities and the whole drill and fill sequence. Every time. I’m sure Dr. George’s family benefited greatly from our teeth. Anyway, they have the whole cavity thing mostly taken care of now with various fluoride treatments and, needing a money maker, they’ve shifted to cosmetic dentistry. Had I been born a couple of decades later I am sure my parents would have been advised that my crooked teeth needed straightening otherwise I’d end up living in a cardboard box somewhere in San Francisco and forced to do my pooping on the curb. Alright, my teeth aren’t that bad but I do have a big gap between my upper incisor and canine tooth on the right. Sure enough, like the sun rising in the east, every time I eat there is some fragment of food stuck in there. I call it my “Meat Tooth”.

Thursday Teabagger Treat

Well, after covering coffee last week it was only natural that I shift my focus to its Limey bastard cousin; tea. Surely tea drinking began somewhere in China and caught on elsewhere along the Silk Road trading route (I just made that last part up but I’ve found that if use terms like “Silk Road trading route” people will often believe the rest of the verbal diarrhea that flows from your mouth). Alright, where were we? Tea. Pretty popular drink everywhere. Great Britain. Ireland. India. China. Wakanda? Not so much.

BBF

Hello hair whippers and downloaders, welcome to Big Boob Friday.

 

 

 

Your model for today was born in New York City September 8, 1988. She stands 5’8″ 36E-25-36 and 130 lbs. Please say hello to Miss Tessa Lane!

Music Poat

I know you’ll all ignore this anyway, but once I get it out of my system perhaps we’ll all feel better.

Herdie Herdie Her

Please appropriate my culture.

 

The epidemic has breached the border and gone north. The virulent strain has found fertile ground in the University of Ottawa. Students there are upset that Yoga is being taught (free of charge, mind you) by a white lady. This is cultural oppression of the highest order! Hitler had nothing on this lady!

http://m.ottawasun.com/2015/11/20/free-ottawa-yoga-class-scrapped-over-cultural-issues

To quote just the part most dripping with feverish virulence:

Student leaders have pulled the mat out from 60 University of Ottawa students, ending a free on-campus yoga class over fears the teachings could be seen as a form of “cultural appropriation.”

Staff at the Centre for Students with Disabilities believe that “while yoga is a really great idea and accessible and great for students … there are cultural issues of implication involved in the practice,” according to an email from the centre.

The centre goes on to say, “Yoga has been under a lot of controversy lately due to how it is being practiced,” and which cultures those practices “are being taken from.”

The centre official argues since many of those cultures “have experienced oppression, cultural genocide and diasporas due to colonialism and western supremacy … we need to be mindful of this and how we express ourselves while practicing yoga.”

Longtime readers of this blog are aware that your humble writer is a person of exotic ethnic extraction. I am a brown Hindu person who came to US from India. This means that my moral authority over all things Yoga is absolute. SJWs who are not brown Hindu people, please take note. Your attempts to fight this battle on my behalf, without taking my explicit consent, is a microaggression. You do not get to decide that we are some kind of oppressed people who need enlightened and empowered people like you to protect us and our culture from the menace that this Yoga teaching, culture appropriating, white supremacist five foot nothing monster lady embodies. You have triggered me and you should check your privilege.

The very thought of some pasty unbathed vegans kvetching (oh no! I appropriated a Yiddish word.) about who can or cannot teach or practice Yoga triggers me. You do know that only yes means yes, right? You did not ask, and I did not say yes.

Nowhere does it say that you have to be brown, Indian or Hindu to practise Yoga. It is good for you. Everyone is welcome to try it. And while you are at it, try the delicious Samosas too. And if you feel like wearing a Saree, go right ahead. It is an elegant piece of clothing and you will look beautiful.

And if you are a SJW who happens to be of Indian origin, let me slap some sense in you. You are all children of privileged upper middle class or rich parents, whether they are residing in India or here in North America. Either way, they are picking up the tab for your education, and expect you to learn some life skills and become successful. You are hurting them by majoring in grievance studies and wasting your time in useless culture wars. And if you came from modest means, what the hell is wrong with you? Why are you wasting yourself instead of learning some Physics and Robotics?

Even if you are Indian origin, you don’t own Yoga. It is an ancient wisdom that was created by some enlightened people for everyone’s well being. Just like Penicillin can be used by people who are not Scottish, and you get to casually hop on an Airplane even though you are not American, other people get to use stuff that came from India. Stop looking at yourself as exploited, oppressed people and be proud of who you are.

And to the SJWs in general: please continue what you are doing. You are all a product of liberalism, the political philosophy that has no guiding principles other than naked pursuit of power. Highlighting and exploiting the divisions within people is their primary means of getting power. If this means bringing in people who have nothing in common, and forming a patchy coalition held together by government spending on chosen constituencies and welfare checks, they would gladly do it. But you are bringing the internal divisions to the fore. You are causing the system to devour itself from within. I dream about the day when the democrats will find it impossible to find suitable candidates to fight elections. A black candidate will offend Hispanics. A male candidate will offend women. An able bodied candidate will offend people with physical, mental or imagined disabilities. Useless as you are, you may end up doing some good after all.

Big Boob Friday

Hello everyone. Would you like to appropriate a bit of Japanese culture with a bit of sushi? Of course you would, American scum. Your behavior is worse than Hiroshima.

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Sean and I wrote this song while talking about our beards.

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And now let us look at some boobs of an Asian chick from Japanland. Her name is something unpronounceable so we’ll just skip that part. Please help me agree that Asian Boobs Matter!!!!!!!!!!

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Titicut Thursday

Big Boob Friday

Hello cannonballers. This is a journey into sound…And by sound I mean boobs. Let’s face it (Carly Fiorina), the only reason you’d come here on a Friday is for xBrad’s hilarious jokes and the sweet, sweet sounds of boobs flapping together.

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This song will really makes you want to dance. 

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Today’s model is famous of something other than having big cans. Kidding! She’s an actress that’s famous for knowing how to read lines while the camera focuses on her really big cans! Anyhoo, her name is Diora Baird and apparently she was in a bunch of slasher flix. Imagine her running through a forest in a tank top screaming. That’s her life’s work. Please stop protesting your nazi poop and welcome wasshername!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Upon Which We Further Anal yze the Millennial Generation

Gen X here. Sure, I fit all of the stereotypes associated with my age cohort. I’m a bit of a slacker, I don’t trust anyone, I’m highly skeptical of commonly held positions, and I’m absolutely certain that Kurt Cobain was not the voice of my generation. As an aside, do any of you people believe that ‘Rape Me’ would have been written today? Not a chance. Rape is racist!