Porn: You're Doing it Wrong

*** disclaimer:  I WILL be talking about (whispers...) sex in this post.  Proceed at your own risk. ***

My BFFF and I were having an inbox discussion about things that we found porn-y that were not porn (ie:  things that get us hot that are not your typical bow-chicka-wow-wow things.  Further, bow-chicka-wow-wow rarely works for me, but that might be a post for another day, like, when I am 80 and I really don't give a shit about what I write or, who reads it.)


My friend says that Charlie Hunnam punching out Robert Pattinson would do it for her.  My answer to her about that is where I got this post title.  

"Porn:  You're Doing it Wrong".  

I mean, sure.  I was totally rooting for the werewolf in Twilight.  And this is coming from someone who LIKES vampires.  At least, I used to, until Hollywood got ahold of them in recent years.  Christopher Lee as Dracula?  Yes, please.  Tom Cruise as Lestat?  Dear God, no.  

And yes, I realize that Interview with the Vampire came out in 1994.  1994 IS recent when you are old. 

Maybe if that Twilight werewolf had had a smidgen of acting ability, it would have been a little porn-y for me.  Alas, the in-my-head, book version of Jacob was way hotter.  Yes, I read the books.  So, who I am to judge anything?  

I find it more-than-mildly porn-y listening to Jason Statham's Cockney sarcasm.  It doesn't hurt that he is nice to look at, though, not what you would call classically good looking.

mmm...

This all started because I mentioned that they were making a Magic Mike 2.  I mean, I get that Channing Tatum is cute AND a good dancer, but I don't find male strippers, even ones that look like 

Channing Tatum

and Joe Manganiello, 

attractive.  Okay, maybe I said that wrong.  They are attractive, but I don't find stripping and dancing around in g-strings to be a turn on.  I really don't need to see that thing flapping around in my face. 

 Seriously.  

Penises are like little aliens attached to men's fronts.  They seem have minds of their own and I find that unnerving.  

There are plenty of parts of the male body that I find attractive, but that thing?  Yeah, it's just a tool, for me.  Get to work and quit waving it around.  Yes, I see it.  God.

Then, we got on the subject of another movie coming out:  Fifty Shades of Grey.  

I could never write a review as hilariously accurate as this one, so I will link to it.  I have probably read it fifty (har har!) times and it makes me cry with glee every, single, time.

Suffice it to say that I did not find those books, scratch that, BOOK, since I only got through about six chapters of the first one before I started skimming, to be a turn on, at all.  I did find them silly and annoying, though.  I kept texting the BFFF things like:  "Is she for real?"  "Oh, yes, a 21 year old virgin.  That's believable" and on and on until I finally threw the book across the room.  

Maybe I am a snob.  Maybe I am a prude (not likely, but sure.).  Maybe I just don't get the attraction.  Maybe I just don't like smarmy guys who think money can buy everything.  Maybe I don't identify with weak women.  Maybe the whole thing just went over my head and yanking a woman's tampon out is super, wildly, sexy.  

Maybe.

But, I doubt it.

Part of me is wondering if this is going to become like The Rocky Horror Picture Show and people are going to bring tampons to the theater to throw at the screen.  THAT, I would pay to see.  Actually, I might just start that trend.  

Anyway, if you hear me snickering in the back row, try and ignore me and remember, it's what you think that counts, not me...(weirdo).

Book Rant: "The Unfinished Child" by Theresa Shea *** spoiler alert ***

I had not read a book on Down syndrome in years.  My son is fourteen and I read Martha Beck's memoir "Expecting Adam" when I was pregnant with him. I loved it so much that I figured I would just be disappointed by other books on the subject.  

And I was right.

I'm not exactly sure what made me read this one, except that I was in the library and the title caught my eye.  

The story of Margaret and Caroline really held me.  The rights of children with disabilities in orphanages around the world has long been a passion of mine and the description of a young mother giving up her baby seemed realistic.  An awful reality for sure, but an all too common one at that time (the late forties) in North America and an all too common occurrence around the world, still, today. I wished Margaret would have removed Caroline from the institution, but I can somewhat understand that she felt she had no alternative.  She was a product of the time she lived in.

As I read on, I became increasingly irritated by the characters in the story. Elizabeth and Marie have a totally dysfunctional "best friendship" that should have been put out of it's misery years earlier.  Both women are whiny and weak and instead of really confiding in each other, (though they can't go a few days without seeing or calling each other), they hide their true feelings.  I'm sorry. What are best friends for if you can't be real with them?  

Elizabeth bullies her husband into ten years of fertility treatments that he doesn't necessarily want and though she is adopted herself, she is not considering adoption...at least not until nearly the end of the book.

Marie laments her poor parenting and just when you think her new baby will give her a chance to try and be better, she has a late stage abortion because the baby has Down syndrome.  

Oh, and did I mention that when Marie tells Elizabeth about the diagnosis, Elizabeth offers to take the baby when it's born?  Are you freaking kidding me?
Can you even imagine that scenario?  Did I say that they were dysfunctional?  

Don't even get me started on the other husbands in the book.  Or, the fact that the aborted baby's ashes are put into an urn to be placed on the mantel, as if she just died of natural causes.  ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?!

The description of Marie feeling the baby kick and still having the "procedure" of injecting salt water into the fetus' heart done made me hate her; really, hate her.  I hated her for listening to her useless husband.  I hated her for being so weak.  I hated her for not even wanting to get more information.  I hated her for feeling sad, when she could have changed her mind at any point.  Fuck you!  Sad?!?!?

I have no problem with abortion in general.  Unplanned and unwanted pregnancies happen.  By all means, don't have a kid you don't want.  But, deciding to continue a pregnancy until you find out the kid might not be exactly "perfect" (like your other two are?!?!) is a completely different story.  We are not talking about a diagnosis incompatible with life when we talk about Down syndrome; we are talking about one that is incompatible with a perceived "lifestyle".  If you think that having just "typical" kids is not going to put a cramp in your lifestyle, then let me tell you, you are in for a shock.  Unless you've got Brangelina money, kids will change everything.  And even if you do, they will still change everything, but you won't have to worry about the bills. What happens if one of these "perfect" kids starts showing signs of learning disabilities, or Autism, or homosexuality?  Will you give them away because they don't fit the mold of your ideals? 

I probably could have put up with all the rest of the crap in this book if Marie had decided to keep the baby and learn how to be a better parent or if Elizabeth decided to adopt a baby with or without Down syndrome; but no, it was not to be.

In the end, there was nothing redeeming about either of the main characters and I found that deeply disappointing.  

The one thing this book does is raise questions about the ethics involved in selective abortion and the broader issue of how we as a human race view people with Down syndrome.  As important as I think these issues are, I don't think this book will help anyone in their quest to find answers, it will only raise more questions.