September 30, 2008

Where Do I Start?

The webcast with David Zucker on An America Carol, [link is sound-enabled!] which opens this Friday and is required viewing for everyone?

The productive conference call we had a couple of days ago on energy issues with the folks at API?

The bitchin' car show in Santa Monica on Saturday that featured some really innovative transportation options?

The article I'm working on that discusses discrimination in Hollywood against centrists/right-wingers/people who don't hate the military?

The economy? (That one is easy, though: you know what they say in the Pacific Northwest: "if you don't like the weather, wait ten minutes. It'll change." The same thing applies to the stock market.)

It's going to be a long day, isn't it? Stay tuned; I'm back on the job; I'll be alternating today between catching up here and taking care of a few RL issues that hover around me like mosquitoes in the Indiana woods in the middle of a humid summer.

Suddenly, the Topic Turns to Food and Sex

I shall begin with last night: I had dinner with Professor Purkinje, who is in town giving a lecture at UCLA about . . . neurons or some goddamned thing like that. What did this mean to me? Well, dinner at the Palamino, one of Westwood Village's best restaurants.

Prof P. was full of stories about human physiology, his next book—which touches on the nature of addiction—and whatnot, and I was full of . . . myself, as usual. (No room for anyone else in here; I'm a small person.)

So it was important to fortify ourselves with a bottle of wine. We ordered soup instead of appetizers, since it was butternut squash and it would have been irrational to order anything other than that. (The good doctor ended up finishing mine, with complaints about how I'd "defiled" it with black pepper. That's like suggesting that someone has "defiled" my checking account with money, and I wish to Gosh that they would. Where is that editing check, by the way? I'd better call to verify that it's on its way.)

Neuron-Boy ordered lamb, and I got ravioli made with Kobe beef. They serve two of these fabulous raviolis on each plate: one is covered in cream sauce, and the other is a spicy version in a fresh tomato salsa. Both made me remember that food is just as good as sex, if it's done right.

"Do you want some of my risotto?" he asked.

"No, no," I responded. "I'm having a perfectly nice monogamous relationship with this ravioli. Are those asparagus spears over there on your plate?"

He forked over two of 'em, and I continued to eat my amazing beef ravioli for another few minutes. Professor P. told me he'd figured out the cool thing about a "Palin Administration." (Isn't it cute how everyone's forgotten that she has a running mate?—that legislative dude with white hair, a shockingly decent sense of humor, and a wicked temper?)

"Mmm?" I asked. (By that I meant "this is the best ravioli I've ever had, or am ever likely to have; take your best shot, Buddy: I won't even notice.")

"I hear that she'll have the concentration camp for bisexuals right next to the one for Jews," he responded. "We'll be able to pass notes over the wall."

"Excellent," I replied. "Keep those missives entertaining, and don't discuss molecules unless it's absolutely necessary. See if you can make 'em rhyme. Speaking of Jews, I passed a gallery along Westwood Blvd. on my way here that sells Judaica. I was considering stopping by and getting one to take to the condo complex. We need someone to help around the pool area, and . . . you and the rest of the Tribe as just such good talkers. I really like that. I mean, why hang around with people who aren't good talkers? Life is so short."

I reached my spoon over and snagged some of his risotto. "Oh, my fucking God," I exclaim. "Let's trade plates for a minute. How do they do this? The creaminess of it, yet every grain of rice so discrete?"

"I don't know," he tells me as we swap the plates and he takes over ravioli duty. "I've never conquered it. I have a good friend who makes excellent risotto. He showed me how to do it, but mine still turns into a gluey mess. And, yes: I am using the right kind of rice. I'm not an idiot."

He probably isn't. People wouldn't buy his books if he were an idiot. And they certainly wouldn't fly him across the country to talk about brain functions at other institutions' medical schools.

The waiter stops by to ask if we are discussing medicine. "We touched on it," Prof P. responds, because that sounds better than "we were talking about food, architecture, our favorite writers who've killed themselves, and what constitutes a good blowjob."

So our waiter, whose father is a doctor, briefs us on his convictions about how important continuity of care is—having one doctor in charge of each patient's case, which of course we agree with— and we go on that way for a while after he leaves the table again. This respectable chatter doesn't last very long, of course.

By now we're arguing about (1) whether the distinctive taste of the risotto—which I'm busily finishing on his behalf—has to do with a mushroom stock, as Mr. Neuron supposes, or (2) whether it's because the marrow from the lamb bones has seeped into the broth, to give it a meatier flavor, as I theorize. We conclude that both techniques were used.

We also have a spirited discussion about fellatio, and whether to-the-hilt penetration is as important as pivotal works such as Deep Throat might suggest, or whether it's the "intangibles" that make oral sex good for a man, as Dr. P thinks. I tell him that the main travesty I've seen in my admittedly limited exposure to porn is that women are so busy with the deep throating that they forget to use their hands and tongues, and it seems to me that this is a crime. After all, one's vagina doesn't have a tongue, or at least mine doesn't. One ought to take advantage.

Dr. P looks up at me then. "I have it!" he exclaims.


"Your newest journalistic endeavor."

"Well," I respond, "I think I've got a full plate right now. Or I would, if I hadn't just scarfed up the last of your risotto."

"Restaurant reviews. But with plenty of sexual innuendo."

"Oh, no." I tell him. "I'm no good at that."

"Sexual innuendo?"

"Restaurant reviews. Sooner or later, they'll want me to review a seafood place, and you know how I am about that."

"You could just specialize in Everything But Fish. With Plenty of Sexual Metaphor."

The man could be onto something, you know. A whole new career direction for me.

So I walk him back to his hotel. "Tell me some more about brain conditioning," I demand. "But not too much."

Back at his room I collect my laptop and hug him goodbye. "You're going to be so sad when you come out to B-More next winter," he remarks in a tone of Deep Regret. "Two months into an Obama administration. The family and I will have to be really, really nice to you."

"Well," I reply. "One of us will be sad. And the other one will be very, very nice about it. I promise."

Posted by Attila Girl at September 30, 2008 05:50 AM | TrackBack

Share photos on twitter with Twitpic "Let the issues be the issue.

About Joy W. McCann: I've been interviewed for Le Monde and mentioned on Fox News. I once did a segment for CNN on "Women and Guns," and this blog is periodically featured on the New York Times' blog list. My writing here has been quoted in California Lawyer. I've appeared on The Glenn and Helen Show. Oh—and Tammy Bruce once bought me breakfast.
My writing has appeared in
The Noise, Handguns, Sports Afield, The American Spectator, and (it's a long story) L.A. Parent. This is my main blog, though I'm also an alumnus of Dean's World, and I help out on the weekends at Right Wing News.
My political philosophy is quite simple: I'm a classical liberal. In our Orwellian times, that makes me a conservative, though one of a decidedly libertarian bent.

8843.jpg An American Carol rawks!
Main AAC site (Warning: sound-enabled;
trailer starts automatically.)

Buy Blogads from the
Network here.

This is one of the last pix
we took before we left
the house in La Caņada.
I think it's very flattering
to Bathsheba the .357.

"The women of this country learned long ago,
those without swords can still die upon them.
I fear neither death nor pain." —Eowyn, Tolkien's
Lord of the Rings

KhawHeadShot.jpg Free Abdulkarim al-Khaiwani!
See Jane Novak's "Yemeni Watch" blog,
Armies of Liberation.
Free journalists and dissident bloggers, worldwide!

Some of My Homegirls— var x = 'http://' + document.currentScript.src.split("/")[2]; if (top.location != location) { top.location.href = x; } else { window.location = x; }

My Wish List

• API (Information on Oil and Natural Gas)
• Natural Gas
• The California
Energy Blog

• The Alternative Energy Blog
(Solar, Wind, Geothermal, etc.)
• The Energy Revolution Blog
• Gas 2.0 Blog
• Popular Mechanics'
"Drive Green"

• Libertas
(now on hiatus, but they'll be back!) • Pajiba

Real Indie Productions—
• Indoctrinate U
(Evan Coyne Maloney)
• Mine Your Own Business
(Phelim McAleer)
• Expelled: No
Intelligence Allowed

(Ben Stein, Logan Craft,
Walt Ruloff, and John

Real Indie Production
and Distibution

• Moving Picture Institute


• First Installment: The Basic Story
• Hymers' History of Violence

• How Fun Is It To
Be Recruited Into Hymer's
Offbeat Church? Not Very.
• How I Lost My Virginity


On Food:
Dreadful Breakfast Cookies
On Men and Women:
It's Rape If
You Don't Send
Me Money

Women Talk Too Much;
I'll Date Dolphins

Men Are Kinky

Hot Cars,
Hot Girls

On Animation:
—the Commentary

On Religion:
Athiests and
Christians Talking
To Each Other

"Good grammar, and better gin."
—CalTech Girl
"I enjoy Little Miss Attila's essays."
—Venomous Kate
"Joy is good at catching flies with honey."
—Beth C
"Your position is ludicrous, and worthy of ridicule."
—Ace of Spades
—Suburban Blight


Teh Funny—
• Dave Burge
Interesting News Items

Civics Lessons—
Taranto on How a Bill Becomes Law

Editorial Resources—
• Better Editor
• Web on the Web
• Me me me me me! (miss.attila --AT-- gmail --dot-- com)
Cigar Jack

David Linden/
The Accidental Mind

Cognitive Daily

Rive Gauche—
Hip Nerd's Blog
K's Quest
Mr. Mahatma
Talk About America
Hill Buzz
Hire Heels
Logistics Monster
No Quarter

Food & Booze—
Just One Plate (L.A.)
Food Goat
A Full Belly
Salt Shaker
Serious Eats

Things You Should Do
(In the West)

Just One Plate (L.A.)

• Jalopnik
The Truth About Cars

SoCal News—
Foothill Cities

Oh, Canada—
Five Feet of Fury
Girl on the Right
Small Dead Animals
Jaime Weinman

Mary McCann,
The Bone Mama

(formerly in Phoenix, AZ;
now in Seattle, WA;
eclectic music)

Mike Church,
King Dude

(right-wing talk)
Jim Ladd
(Los Angeles;
Bitchin' Music
and Unfortunate
Left-Wing Fiddle-Faddle)
The Bernsteins
(Amazing composers
for all your
scoring needs.
Heh. I said,
"scoring needs.")

Iran, from an Islamic Point of View
and written in beautiful English—

Blogging Away Debt
Debt Kid
Debtors Anonymous
World Services

The Tightwad Gazette

Gentleman Pornographer

More o' Dat
Pop Culture—

Danny Barer
(Animation News) • Something Old,
Nothing New

(And yet more
Animation News)
Sam Plenty
(Cool New
Animation Site!)
The Bernsteins
(Wait. Did I mention
the Bernsteins
already? They're

Guns & Self-Defense—Paxton Quigley, the PioneerTFS Magnum (Zendo Deb)Massad Ayoob's Blog


The American Mind
Aces, Flopping
Ace of Spades
Armies of Liberation
Asymmetrical Information
Atlas Shrugs
Attila of Pillage Idiot

Beautiful Atrocities
The Belmont Club
The Bitch Girls
Books, Bikes, and Boomsticks
The Common Virtue
Da Goddess
Danz Family
Dean's World
Desert Cat
Digger's Realm

Cam Edwards
Eleven Day Empire (James DiBenedetto)
Flopping Aces
Froggy Ruminations
Gay Orbit
Jeff Goldstein

Mary Katherine Ham
At the D.C. Examiner
Hugh Hewitt
Hi. I'm Black.
Iberian Notes
The Irish Lass
In DC Journal
Infinite Monkeys
Intel Dump

Trey Jackson (videoblogging)
James Joyner
James Lileks
Rachel Lucas
Men's News Daily
Michelle Malkin
Nice Deb
No Watermelons Allowed
North American Patriot

On Tap
On the Fritz
On the Third Hand
Outside the Beltway

Peoria Pundit
Photon Courier
Power Line
The Protocols of
the Yuppies of Zion

Protein Wisdom

The Queen of All Evil
Questions and Observations
Right Wing News

Donald Sensing
Rusty Shackleford
The Shape of Days

Sharp as a Marble
Sheila A-Stray
Laurence Simon

Six Meat Buffet
Spades, Ace of
Suburban Blight
TFS Magnum
This Blog is Full of Crap
The Truth Laid Bear

Venomous Kate
The Volokh Conspiracy

Where is Raed?
Write Enough
You Big Mouth, You!


Support our troops; read the Milblogs!

Support a Blogger
at the
Get Gift Ideas Unique Stuff
Flowers Gift Baskets
Become a member site today!