My Uh-Duh! Moment

Remember Oprah? You know, the one-woman media magnate who revitalized Chicago’s West Loop, gave audience members cars, did Stedman and maybe Gayle, got people reading again, is responsible for unleashing the hackfests that are Drs. Phil & Oz and Suze Orman, and who empowered millions of upper-middle class women the world over? Yep, that Oprah–the one and only.

During her media tenure, Oprah had several positive, love thyself phrases that were seen as avenues her fans could travel in order to live better lives. (Nothing wrong with trying to better one’s life, of course.) One was the whole “Remembering Your Spirit” vignettes that were popular in the early aughts, and one of the last ones was “Aha! Moments.” Basically, Aha! Moments are similar to “Come to Jesus” moments or EPIPHANIES as they are known to us non-religious folks. Some person (usually a woman) figures out somewhere along the line that her life is more than a dress size, her baby-making abilities and by being a dutiful daughter/sister/niece/wife/aunt, etc.

Oprah’s magazine and tee vee show featured mainly the Aha! Moments of famous folks, who have all the money ever but decided it’s necessary to give back to us serfs. Most efforts are to be applauded because, dammit, they should be giving back. Some of these moments are just famous folks engaging in navel gazing and that’s just boring as all hell.

I’ve had a few Aha! Moments in my life. (this ain’t one, but the vid still works)

One moment urged me to go to school in Southern California, then another brought me back to finish my studies in Madison. Oh, then there was the engagement that ended badly in my 20s…then the switching of careers and moving back to the Midwest….yeah.

What else? Yes, getting a master’s degree which lead to me getting my ass kicked in a new, but fab, career. Super fun!

Most of my Aha! Moments have been good for my soul, but then there are those that kicked the ever-lovin’ crap outta me, watched me crumble, then came back and kicked me AGAIN just for shits and giggles. I’ve realized since that life is one, big, fat, steaming pile of chunk-filled Aha! Moments. The trick is learning how to handle them with grace, humor and a pair of handwraps, boxing gloves and a heavy bag.

Now that I’ve got THAT figured out, onto what Uh-Duh! Moments are. Simply, Uh-Duh! Moments are “what the hell did I just do?” moments. I’ve had a shitload of them in my life and it’s safe to say that MOST of those moments have occurred in the past couple of years. I’m not exactly proud of these “oops” either, but I figured I’d share them here so y’all can either point & mock, or nod your heads, sigh and utter ‘Yeah, I’ve done that too, Julia.”

The first one involves honey.

This particular Uh-Duh! Moment made me realize that I truly hate honey. Loathe it actually. I think it’s disgusting and tastes like what I imagine rancid bee sweat mixed with bee urine tastes like. I’ve given it my all–tried to develop a taste for it by serving it on toast, in my tea, my oatmeal, and I even used it in my hair–what the fuck for–I don’t know. Well, I thought I’d be the bigger person and give it one more shot.

This time, I used it on my face because the woman who waxes me (shut UP) said it made a great facial mask because it was all natural and has some sort of healing qualities. Ok, ok, I said to her as she was putting wax on places that don’t normally need wax (ahem), I’ll give it a try. Again.

So, a couple of nights ago, I had a couple of gals over for a semi-nude slumber party and we decided to try the honey facial mask treatment. We each put our hair in pigtails, giggled A LOT, slipped into our silk camis, Hello Kitty! tap pants, and our Uggs, and then slathered our mugs in warm honey.

Then, we left it there for about 15 minutes and during that time, chose teams for the midnight pillow fight (my team won, natch). After rinsing the golden ooze from my face and hair, I kept waiting for the healing qualities to happen. Five minutes went by–nothing. Fifteen, 20, 25–still nothing. At thirty minutes, my skin was starting to tighten and darken like the skin on one of Ed Gein’s lampshades. Feeling the anger starting to rise and my feet starting to sweat in my Uggs, I slathered my face in uber-hydrating moisturizer, and kicked my Uggs off. After a brief tickle fight with the gals, I tossed the bottle of honey in the trash.

The following morning while I was cleaning up post-semi nude slumber party, I wondered why I had given honey another chance–I hated it years ago–how was that going to change now?

Hmm…maybe it’s not only a Ah-Duh! Moment, it’s an I’m frickin’ stupid moment too.

Theater of gross

**WARNING: THE VIDYAS/ARTICLES/PIX POSTED BELOW ARE DISGUSTING. HEINOUS. APPALLING. PUKE-INDUCING. IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH, CLICK AWAY. NOW. THANKS!****

There’s only so much job search crap I can do in one day. I scour the job boards, craft carefully worded cover letters and pepper my resumes with the appropriate key words so they make it past whatever heartless screening software most HR departments use. If I spent 8 hours a day looking for a job like Dr. Phil and the other, um, “experts” say I should, I’d be fat-alcoholic-heroin-addict.

But, I’d have great hair. That’s a given.

What do I do when I’m done looking for work for the day? I go for long walks/hikes, read a lot, write my book about my job search adventures and peruse the Internets for the absurd.

Oh, and the GROSS. The very, very heinous.

I’ve had to edit my choices down to three since I don’t want to be kidnapped and thrown into an open sewer in Mumbai due to someone being so offended they feel the need to dispose of McCrabass. Cholera and MRSA ain’t my thing, see.

Really now … if you’re reading this blog, you’re made of sterner stuff.

Prepare ye.

From ChinaSmack.com

Zoo Caretaker Licks Monkey’s Butt To Help It Defecate

I … I … wow. Um, wow.

It gets worse.

Wait for it …

Caretaker licks monkey’s butt for an hour to help it defecate

Now, it’s not the best dek since it’s almost exactly like the hed, but I’m going to put away my copy editing hat for a bit and just take it allllll in. So to speak. I suggest you do the same.

Yesterday, Wuhan Zoo Monkey caretaker Zhang Bangsheng unbelievably used his tongue to lick a small monkey’s butt!

50-year-old Zhang Bangsheng used warm water to clean a small Francois’ Leaf Monkey’s buttocks, then began using his mouth to lick it, not stopping for over an hour, until the little monkey defecated a single peanut. Only after the peanut was defecated did Zhang Bangsheng laugh with satisfaction.

As it is understood, this small Francois’ langur is only 3 months old, and is the first Francois’ Leaf Monkey to be born in nearly 10 years at this animal park. The Francois’ langur is a rare primate from Guangxi and Guizhou and is amongst the nation’s most protected animals. Because it is so precious, the zoo gave it to model worker and high-level expert Zhang Bangsheng to care for and raise.

So, you lick ass and you get a peanut. This chore mirrors one of my fave phrases: You pay peanuts and you get monkeys.

I hate peanuts now. And monkeys. And butt-lickers.

But, if someone licked MY ass for an hour, I wonder what would happen. Yeah, I said it.

On the first day of the “May 1st” short holiday, Zhang Bangsheng let the small Francois langur enter the monkey exhibit for the first time to meet visitors so it can see more of the world. The next day, Old Zhang discovered that the little monkey had indigestion and difficulty defecating, and immediately became worried. Seeing peanut shells on the ground, Old Zhang immediately understood that visitors had definitely tossed peanuts to the small monkey, and the toothless monkey swallowed the peanut whole. If it does not quickly defecate it, it would endanger the little monkey’s life.

Because the monkey is too small, it wasn’t suitable to use medicine to let it defecate. The only way was to lick its butt, to prompt it to defecate the peanut, and so the scene at the start of this article occurred.

That’s dedication. I hope they give this zoo keeper real food from now on. Or let his family out of whatever Chinese gulag they were in for whatever reason. Either way, this guy deserves some sort of prize and perhaps some type of bleach-based mouthwash. Oh and new teefus.

I wonder what the little monkey will use to throw at the tourists who are mocking it since it can’t shit properly?

Fuck me sideways — this is gross! I need a Silkwood shower after reading it.

There Will Be Blood and Pus

The following is beyond gross, but I can’t look away.

I’m so glad that Smell-o-Vision ain’t available on the Internets because I’m sure the stench of what you’re about to watch would cause your skin to melt.

I bet you don’t want to eat raw cookie dough, cottage cheese or Redi-Whip directly from the can ever again, eh?

The background chatter is what seals it for me. Apparently, cysts the size of Ayers Rock are not unusual for Gary. This begs the questions: Just HOW disgusting IS Gary? Has he ever been to a doctor? What does his diet consist of? Why are all heinous cyst/zit extractions done in a disgusting bathroom or in some trailer park? Why are there always screaming children in the background? Why are they ALWAYS rednecks or dudes looking like they’ve spent waaaay too much time in Purvis’s meth hut?

Betcha can’t stop watching it. It’ll haunt your dreams, I can guarantee it.

But wait! There’s more!

At least the kitteh was ok. But, I can’t help but think of the scene in The Fly. You’ll know what scene I’m talking about after you watch this next clip.

You’re welcome.

Forever pregnant

A few thoughts on Arizona’s brand, spankin’ new anti-choice law.

But first, a brief summary. Let’s see if I can get through this without wanting to gut myself with a Spork. I think I’ll let my pals at The Raw Story do it for me.

Jan Brewer signs abortion ban defining pregnancy before conception

You read that correctly, monkehs. According to Jan and her minions, all of us gals who are still dealing with menses are pregnant — right now.

Um ….

“Republican Arizona Gov. Jan Brewer on Thursday signed one of the most controversial and restrictive abortion bans in the country, which experts say effectively bans abortions after 18 weeks and declares that a woman could be pregnant 2 weeks before she even had sex.”

Oh holy fetus suction device, you’ve got to be kidding me. How Draconian must we get? And the GOP says there ain’t a war on women.

Of course, after ruminating about this for a titch, I had a few thoughts — with a little help from some friends.

Are maxi-pads and tampons considered baby blankets now?

If you say “Not tonight dear, I have a headache” are you, in effect, committing pre-meditated murder?

What about those folks who don’t believe in the Immaculate Conception?

If a woman is murdered, is the killer now responsible for two murders?

If you drink or take drugs at any time during your cycle (which is all the time) could you be locked up for endangering a fetus?

Eventually will new life start with a filthy thought? (if that was the case, I’d have a million chirrun running hither and yon)

Will there soon be anti-jackin’ it bills introduced in the Arizona Legislature to prevent male Arizonians from spilling their sacred seed? Can’t have one without the other, see.

What if you’re a eunuch? A castrato?

If you’ve had a hysterectomy, will you be considered a serial killer?

Will New Mexico now construct a large Abortion Plex near the Arizona/New Mexico border?

What about women who aren’t on the perfect 28-day cycle? How will they be ‘regulated’?

Will all stillbirths and miscarriages now be considered homicides?

Is cooking eggs now considered animal cruelty?

Is a douche now considered a weird kind of baby shower?

If you’re a post-menopausal woman, does that mean you’re eternally pregnant?

Knowing how Arizona feels about brown people, does this law apply to women of color too?

Does a uterine lining now get a social security number?

Finally …

Does the law really mean two weeks AFTER conception?

*thanks to Michael, Liza, Paul, Jennifer, Donald, Jeff, David B. et al. Big kisses!

WHEN SEX TOYS ATTACK!

I was just about to call it a night when this little gem showed up in my RSS feed. If you know McCrabass at all, then you know it would be sacrilege if I didn’t throw a few comments about sex toy injuries onto a page.

Take a gander at it and you’ll understand why I’m interrupting valuable winky-bye time to comment on it.

“A woman in northern California is suing a sex toy company after she suffered a horrifying injury while using one of its dildos.

(Photo: Brett Wilkins)

According to SF WeeklyApril Bonjour of Yreka and her boyfriend were playing with a dildo manufactured by Pipedream Productions, whose motto is “We don’t make the orgasm, we make the orgasm BETTER”, when their foreplay went horribly wrong. Bonjour says something started to feel “not quite right.”

“During the usage, I felt an intense sharp pain inside my vagina,” Bonjour’s claim says.  “My boyfriend quickly removed the toy, it was covered in blood. I thought, very briefly, that I had started my period but as the bleeding continued, getting heavier and heavier I knew it was not my period.” Bonjour ran through all her sanitary pads trying to stem the bleeding and passed some scary bloot clots before growing faint. Her boyfriend dialed 911.”

First, this is the apex of disgusting sex-toy injuries–no question about it. However, something has to be said about the victim’s name: April Bonjour. Something about her name screams porn actress or GOP mistress. Think about it.

Read on:

‘ “By the time they got there, I was in and out of consciousness,” she told SF Weekly. “My son … was terrified at the sight of me — he thought I was dying (quite frankly, so did I).”

Bonjour required several pints of blood when she arrived at the hospital. She has since physically recovered, but she claims she and her boyfriend have suffered emotional damage. Bonjour asked Pipedream Productions for compensation, the company refused, and so she’s now suing for personal injury, negligence, and breach of warranty.”

By 

As far as killer sex-toy stories go, this is quite frightening. She needed several pints of blood? She was in and out of consciousness? Bloot [sic] clots? Really? Her son thought she was dying? Yuck. Horrible. (All the heavy bleeding aside, aren’t you dying to know how she explained this one to her son??)

Something doesn’t seem right about this bloody snatch tale. I can’t quite put my finger on it (shut UP).

Did Bonjour and her beau examine the dildo before, you know, using it? Or did they just unwrap and dive right in? Call me crazy BUT if I’m gonna place something in my hoo-ha, I’m gonna take a good, hard (shuttie) look at it and make sure it ain’t gonna put me in the ER, hooked up to a trough-sized blood transfusion doohickey.

What’s the lesson here kids? Inspect all dildos to make sure you’re not really putting a butcher knife in your hoo-ha.

As for the lawsuit, I get it. Hopefully, both parties will settle before going to trial, and Bonjour et al will be compensated fairly and commence once again with the enhanced diddling.

However, if it DOES go to trial, I can only imagine what kind of sex toy questions could be asked of potential jurors during the voir dire….