fan mail

Yesterday I got an email from someone saying that they like my blog and that they liked being nude. And they included a picture.

So I wrote back asking if they wanted me to post the picture as a “submission” here on the blog.

Then I thought this could be some picture that somebody got from some porn site, so I did a google image search. I found the exact picture on a couple of sites. It was one of a set of the same 10 or so pictures of (I think) the same girl on both sites—a couple of those young hot chicks sort of websites.

Meanwhile, this person wrote me back saying not to post it on the blog, that they’d rather it be between us. And that they think I’m hot.

So, of course, I wrote back mentioning that I’d just found that picture on a couple of sites. This person responded with surprise and wondered what the websites were, which I told them. And they replied with “omg wtf? thanx 4 lettin me know”.

So. I’m not gonna post the picture, in case this person is legitimately the person in the picture.

But I refer above to this person as “they” (I know, grammatically problematic but less awkward than using “he or she” over and over) because I don’t know if the person is who “she” appears to be.

It would be nice to hear that some cute young woman thinks I’m hot. But this could be from an unattractive middle-aged dude. I suppose that is also flattering, but it’s not really my thing. Maybe I’m just cynical to be suspicious. But it did turn out that the picture is posted elsewhere. So, maybe I was rightly suspicious?

I don’t know.

Anyway...

If “she” is legit and is reading this: hey, how’s it going? Did you really not know those pictures were online somewhere? Write me again and send me a picture of you that’s not online somewhere else.

And if “she” is not legit and whoever sent it is reading this: seriously, if you actually read my blog you’ll know that I value honesty. So, what the fuck!?

And for everyone else reading this: although I haven’t mentioned it lately, I am still open to “submissions”. If you want to send me a picture to post here, or if you want to write something about nudity, etc. send it to me at misterchrister@live.com.

The Worst...

So, in keeping with two recent themes from this blog...

I was watching a TV show on the netflix recently in which a particular character needs to be more open and honest. (Being open & honest is one theme. Stuff on netflix is one theme; I watch way too much netflix; I need a life.)

The show is The Worst Week of My Life (series 2 & 3). It’s a BBC sitcom from several years ago.

The main character, Howard, is sort of an idiot. He’s clumsy and socially awkward. He keeps getting into trouble. Sometimes it’s due to his awkwardness, and sometimes that’s funny. But at least half the time he just makes it worse and worse and worse by lying and lying and lying. Eventually, when he tells the truth about the mistake he made or the misunderstanding or the accident or whatever it turns out okay. People understand. But the lying is totally ridiculous. I realize it’s just a dumb TV show, but it kind of makes me mad. I keep watching, because the funny stuff is funny. Plus I’m bored. (See above about my needing a life.)

Another issue in the show pisses me off a little: it’s that the family in the show is rather well-off. And I keep thinking how ridiculous their whole life is. The mother-in-law gets upset because the landscaper can’t show up on some special day due because he had a heart attack or something. Ridiculous. They have this huge house full of fancy shit, some of which gets broken or whatever. Ridiculous. And they’re often worried about impressing all the right people. Ridiculous. Nobody needs that big a house nor that kind of money. It’s completely ridiculous.

These are probably the bastards running the world, fighting wars and all that shit.

Oh...sorry. I was watching a documentary called Zeitgeist earlier today. (It’s unrelated, except for that the too much netflix-watching thing.)

Anyway yes, there’s a little nudity in The Worst Week of My Life. There’s an incident where Howard, the idiot, gets kicked out of a house while naked.

Hahahahahahaha! Nudity = hilariousness.

Not really.

And there’s a scene where he bursts in on a woman receiving a bikini-line waxing. And then he later tries to comfort her by saying how he didn’t see any of her “doo-dah”.

That’s right, “doo-dah.”

Ug. An adult...saying “doo-dah”.

I believe you mean “Vagina”.

Stupidness. 

nude nuns

I had started watching some artistic foreign film last night, but it was sort of slow and it just didn’t keep my interest. So, I looked for something else and found this:

Nude Nuns with Big Guns 

Yes, there is such a movie. And yes, I did watch it.

Yes, there are nude nuns in it. And yes, there are some guns. (They’re not tiny, but they’re not all that big.)

Yes, there is some bad acting in it. And also some mediocre acting.

It’s about a nun who, after being exploited by drug trafficking priests, becomes an “avenging angel”.

It lags quite a lot in the middle, I think mainly due to a lack of story development—a lot of attitude and no plot, perhaps a failed attempt to build suspense. And some weird editing effects. And a lot of prominent “background” music.

It’s not great. Then again, it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever seen.  

At one point I had the thought that perhaps it’s trying to be Kill Bill with nuns and bare breasts. And if that was the intention, well, it didn’t come close.

Oh, hey...I learned a new word: nunsploitation. It’s not in the movie; it was in some review I skimmed.

(Asun Ortega as Sister Sarah)

Bully for them

Last night I watched Bully.

(Not the more recent documentary film.)

It’s a film based on a true story about a group of teens who plan to kill a friend who is a bully.

I found the acting often dull and unengaging. But I think it may’ve been a conscious choice by the director—a way of showing these teens’ lack of connection with “normal” emotions.

Or maybe I just found the characters annoying.

Anyway, the film was okay. I think the film’s use of nudity was quite interesting.

There were a couple of sex scenes with nudity, but I found the nudity there to be rather un-sexy. Again, that may’ve been a directorial choice to show that these characters had sex, but it wasn’t especially exciting or urgent or anything.

Or maybe I’m just reading that into it. I was kind of tired last night. 

But there were other times in the film where a character, one in particular, was just naked—in the bathroom, or getting out of bed, or once talking on the phone. And that choice seemed to me to be very reasonable, normal, realistic. But, as this was a movie, I was aware that other viewers might find it unusual. I suppose most folks just aren’t naked much, despite my numerous calls for it here in my naked blog.

“Lady doctor” 2

So I’m continuing to watch Bramwell.

It’s good.

A lot of the British shows I’ve been lately watching on the netflix are good. I’m sure there are mediocre British TV shows. Of course, I know there are tons of mediocre American shows.

(Started out very promising; half a season later, not so much.) 

Anyway, yesterday I said (wrote) “I don’t expect there to be any nakedness in the series...”

Well, I was sort of wrong. I mean, there’s what I guess would be considered “nudity” in an episode I just finished watching. In this episode, there’s a woman who has breast cancer. Now this show, Bramwell, is not a blood spurting, showing lots of injuries and such type of show, although sometimes those things are shown. In this particular episode, they do show the woman’s breast during a couple of exams.

Well, the thing about this episode which I find most worthy of comment is this: the husband of this character with breast cancer is a doctor, (There are lots of doctors in the show—3 who are main characters, but various others come and go.) and it becomes evident that this husband and wife simply don’t really talk to each other about important stuff.

I just don’t understand that. I mean, I realize that at times we may find it difficult to talk about stuff, but to consistently keep everything hidden—important stuff about yourself, your health, you children, whatever—from your spouse, particularly when he or she is capable of dealing with such things, makes absolutely no sense to me.

Okay, yes, this TV show is set in Victorian England.

But I have the sinking feeling that this behavior is still common today. I remember when I was a teenager and seeing a therapist; there was a woman I knew who was seeing the same therapist and who complained how the therapist kept asking her about stuff she didn’t want to talk about. Well, duh. That’s the whole point, right?

People! Talk about shit. Seriously. Be open and honest and direct with the people you care about.

The only reason to hide things or lie is if you’re a disreputable type trying to pull something over on someone or deliberately hurt them. And if that’s the case, shame on you. Don’t be such a selfish bastard.

“Lady doctor”

I started watching Bramwell last night on the netflix. It’s a British TV series from 1995-98.

It’s about a woman who is a doctor and the difficulties she faces as a woman and due to her attempts to help the poor in late Victorian England.

Jemma Redgrave as Dr. Eleanor Bramwell

The first episode kept reminding me of the recent Michigan “Vagina” controversy that I wrote about yesterday and several days ago.

There are these older, white, male establishment doctors who keep performing ovariectomies on women for various conditions such as “female hysteria” (a very common diagnoses in that time) and refusing to discuss a diagnosis of syphilis because it’s improper, especially for a woman to discuss.  

After Dr. Bramwell challenges all this, she gets kicked out of the hospital, banned from working in its wards.

Sounds ridiculously familiar. When watching this sort of thing in a TV show, it’s obviously wrong and stupid and pig-headed and blind. Perhaps the Republican leaders in the Michigan State House should watch it. But that may be unlikely, as it’s the sort of liberal “claptrap” they show in other countries, or maybe on PBS.

I don’t expect there to be any nakedness in this series, but it relates to other stuff I’ve written about, so...why not, eh?

Anyway, here’s what I have to say to late Victorian England: Vagina, vagina, vagina!

Oh wait, no... HERE’S what I have to say to late Victorian England: Let that “lady doctor” do her thing. She’s right. You’re not.

Michigan Vagina 2 (update)

So, if you don’t know about the recent “Vagina” controversy in Michigan, just google it, or see my post from a few days ago. 

So here’s what’s new:

Last night a reading of The Vagina Monologues took place on the steps of the Michigan Statehouse. Performers included several female Democratic  state lawmakers and Eve Ensler (author of The Vagina Monologues).

Michigan State Rep. Lisa Brown

Eve Ensler

Huffington Post article 

I said it then, and I still say it now: Vagina, vagina, vagina!

Or, to misquote Patrick Henry, “Give me vagina, or give me death!”

Stripping Natasha

“Strip Me” by Natasha Bedingfield 

AAAHHHHH!!!!!

This song demonstrates part of what I hate about contemporary popular music.

It’s just so fucking repetitive.

If you strip it down to its basics, except for the bridge, I think it’s pretty-much the same 3 chords over and over and over. But you don’t ever really hear the chords that much. What you hear is vocals and drums, and much of the rest of the “accompaniment” is like repetitive background noise.

I listened to another song by the same singer (“Pocketful of Sunshine”). It’s similarly, annoyingly limited in musical variety, when you “strip it down” to the basics. It’s mostly 3 or 4 chords.

That’s what popular music has been for a while. A few chords plus attitude.

I think the audience has become more technologically sophisticated and wants new and more and better—look at movie special effects. But I think we’ve become so much less sophisticated in terms of our understanding of or our desire for content.

The basics are so damn basic that you have to throw a bunch of shit on top of it. Forget well-crafted songs. Just give us a lot of attitude and a decent-sounding voice (which is likely edited and manipulated in the studio), then layer a bunch of annoying sounds on top of it so it seems like something is happening.

Oh yeah...don’t forget the pretty face.

I don’t know, it just seems a bit like waving your arms and yelling “Whoo-whoo-whoo”, flashing lights in people’s eyes and calling that great dancing.

“Strip Me” lyrics

(from: lyricslike.blogspot.com)

INTRO

La-la-la-la-la La-la La-la-la La-la-la La-la
La-la-la-la-la La-la La-la-la La-la-la La-la

VERSE 1

Every day I fight for all my future somethings,

A thousand little awards I have to choose between.
I could spend a lifetime earning things that I don’t need.
That’s like chasing rainbows and coming home empty.

PRE-CHORUS (This is just like a chorus, but it’s followed by another chorus, so we call it a “pre-chorus”.)

And if you strip me, strip it all away,
If you strip me, what would you find?
If you strip me, strip it all away,
I'll be alright.

CHORUS 

Take what you want, steal my pride,
Build me up or cut me down to size.
Shut me out, but I’ll just scream.
I'm only one voice in a million but you ain't taking that from me.
(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that.

VERSE 2 (abbreviated—probably nobody notices much, or minds, because it’s all the same repetitive stuff)

I don't need a microphone to say what I been thinking.
My heart is like a loudspeaker that's always on eleven.

PRE-CHORUS

And if you strip me, strip it all away,
If you strip me, what would you find?
If you strip me, strip it all away,
I'll be alright.

CHORUS 

Take what you want, steal my pride,
Build me up or cut me down to size.
Shut me out, but I’ll just scream.
I'm only one voice in a million but you ain't taking that from me.
(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that.

BRIDGE

‘Cos when it all boils down at the end of the day
It's what you do and say that makes you who you are,
Makes you think about, think about it, doesn’t it?
Sometimes all it takes is one voice.

CHORUS

Take what you want, steal my pride,
Build me up or cut me down to size.
Shut me out, but I’ll just scream.
I'm only one voice in a million but you ain't taking that from me.
(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that from me.

(Oh oh oh) you ain't taking that.

REPEAT CHORUS

FADE OUT (intro)

La-la-la-la-la La-la La-la-la La-la-la La-la
La-la-la-la-la La-la La-la-la La-la-la La-la

Michigan Vagina

So, Michigan State Representative Lisa Brown

has been banned indefinitely from the floor of the Michigan House of Representatives, for using her word “vagina” during a debate on an abortion bill.

At least, that’s what everybody’s saying. Apparently, the reason wasn’t specified.  

Another Representative—Barb Byrum—was also banned, for trying to speak out of turn, which is a violation of the rules, but rarely results in being banned.

Now, concerning Representative Brown’s banning, I’m sure it’s quite possible that it was simply her use of the word “vagina”. But it might also be more her attitude when using the word. She said, “I’m flattered that you’re all so interested in my vagina, but no means no.”

I feel, after listening to her, that the tone changed there at the end with what seemed perhaps a mildly incendiary comment.

That’s not to say she should be banned for it. I’m sure plenty of other things that I’d find offensive have been said on that and other legislative floors.  

Anyway...if, in fact, she was banned for using the word “vagina” because the Michigan House Speaker felt it was inappropriate...well, that’s absolutely ridiculous.  

And here’s why I’m writing about it in my naked blog.

I think, and have said many times before, that if people were generally more comfortable with their bodies and others’ bodies, it would likely be part of a more general openness and comfortability in dealing with topics like sex, or perhaps scary words like “vagina”.

Vagina, vagina, vagina.

Come on, Michigan—you need to get comfortable with vaginas.

I’d certainly like to.

(Hey, just puttin' it out there, ya know?)

politico.com article

Native Nudity 2

I was reading this morning (1421: The Year China Discovered the World by Gavin Menzies) and found a reference to the Yaghan—a group of indigenous people of the Tierra del Fuego. 

Now, I remember from grade school learning that Magellan on his voyage around the earth named the Tierra del Fuego (“Land of Fire”) because of the many fires they could see. But I certainly do not recall hearing that that the indigenous people went around naked or mostly naked, gathering around fires to keep warm,

even taking fires with them in their boats.

Oh, yeah, by the way...it’s cold down there. This is the southernmost part of South America we’re talking about. 

Apparently the Yaghan also smeared grease from animal fats on their bodies to help stay warm, plus, they seem to have some slight genetic adaptation—higher metabolism. 

Now, I’m sure I would’ve remembered naked people, but no...native nudity never came up in grade school, or any school that I recall. I probably would’ve been much more interested in history then if that had been a topic.

Well...Good morning

Okay, so this is maybe too much information. But I figure what the hell, if you’ve seen this blog, you’ve seen a lot of me.

I haven’t had sex in a while—too long, really. Like 6½ years. There are a couple of young ladies that I fooled around with in that 6½ years, but we didn’t actually “do it”...you know, fuck.

And I’m starting to feel a little hopeless.

I mean, certainly I’ve had sex with myself. But more and more that feels less and less satisfying.

I don’t even really try to meet women much at this point. I was never one to just go out to bars or wherever looking for women to fuck. That’s just not me.

The women I’ve liked are generally people I’ve met while working—in a show or whatever. Lately when I have become really interested in someone, it’s ended with a fair amount of pain and anger. It used to be that I found most women (and most men) to be stupid, shallow, boring...generally unappealing in various ways. Of course, now the longer I go without “getting any” the less that seems to be an issue, or the maybe the more I’m willing to overlook that. And I think that’s what’s lead to the pain and anger. Mostly it’s anger at me for allowing myself to get that interested in someone who’s clearly not right for me for whatever reason.

There was a woman I met about 3 years ago who I was just crazy about. I mean, I was just completely lost in my attraction for her. It was kind of insane. Anyway, she was the first person I’d really been interested in since I’d broken up with my ex a few years before (6½ years ago). Nothing physical ever happened between this woman and me. We just hung out together all the time. She was unhappily married and didn’t want to deal with it.

I tend to talk about stuff, put things out there on the table. But that didn’t happen, ‘cause she wouldn’t. So I got crazier and crazier. I wrote a bunch of songs and poems about her. Eventually I had to stop. Nothing was ever going to happen, and I just couldn’t be her friend. And it was making me crazy, obsessed. I had a rough several months after that. I just sort of went away, literally. I was sort of a hermit. I went to the beach for the winter, where I had no work and didn’t know anybody, didn’t meet anybody or interact significantly with anyone for 3 months.

The one positive thing about that whole experience—meeting that woman and how I felt about her—was the fact that, at almost 40 (then), when I’d sort of felt that I might never meet anyone I really liked again, I did. I REALLY liked her...loved her.

Similarly, the fact that I can still get it up means that if I do meet someone else that I like, I can still, you know, “do something about it”.

...at least for now. 

dream scream

This morning around 3am I woke up screaming. Okay, with a scream. Or maybe it was more like “Uhnn.” I don’t know if there was an actual vocalization, but it seemed like there was. There was definitely a scream in the dream I was having, and I woke up suddenly at that point feeling like I had just screamed.

There’s very little detail in the dream that I can remember.

The mood of the dream was like a haunted house or a suspense/thriller sort of thing. Some other person—I think it was a man—and I were looking for someone or something, or maybe we were trying to not be found by this someone or something.

So either we didn’t find it or it didn’t find us, and then we were in some other place, like a house where we were supposed to be safe. And we were going to bed. (Not together—it wasn’t a sex dream.)

I thought I heard something, or maybe I just got up for some other reason, turned on a light and looked into the hallway. There was a man there in the hall. He was clearly a bad guy. I think he had a knife or something, maybe claws. And he was there to get us. I’m not sure if he was the thing we had earlier been seeking or avoiding, but he was somehow connected with it.

Well, as soon as I saw him, I screamed and woke up. When I woke up, I knew that I was awake. There wasn’t that feeling of maybe it was sort of real, that maybe there was someone in the room with me, trying to get me. I knew it had been a dream. But I didn’t know if I had actually screamed or not, and if so, how loud was it?


After that, I was awake for some time. I don’t know how long exactly. But I did not sleep peacefully for the rest of the morning. I feel quite tired now. And I just want to say “Uhnn,”  because I haven’t the energy to actually scream.

Topless in New York

In the state of New York it is legal for a woman to go topless anywhere that a man can go topless, except if she’s selling something. It has been since 1992, after the NY Court of Appeals ruling in People v. Santorelli.

Holly Van Voast has been going around New York City topless.

Holly Van Voast as Harvey Van Toast

And so has Moira Johnston.

Moira Johnston as Moira Johnston

Van Voast appears as her mustachioed alter ego “Harvey Van Toast” taking pictures and video of herself, other people, and herself while taking pictures and video of other people.

Yes, that is Bill Cosby in the background.

And sometimes other people video her.

At NYC Apple Store

She seems to be interested in the attention, and seems to consider toplessness as a possible route to fame or notoriety or something.

Moira Johnston just appears.

She’s promoting awareness of the law.

Yay! Go ladies.

Holly Van Voast was arrested and went to court last fall for her topless appearances. While in court she removed her jacket, exposing her bare breasts.

The New York Times article

Huffington Post article

She says about the incident that “not much” happened.

At comic con 2011

Moira Johnston was taken into police custody and detained for a short time.

But it’s legal and the police can’t really stop a woman from being topless.

She talks about it in part of this video. 

A few years back another woman was arrested in New York for being topless. She was released 12 hours later, sued the city and settled out of court for $29,000.

Tuscon Citizen article

Yeah! Ya gotta hit ‘em where it counts. 

Battle Beyond the Stars—the ships

Battle Beyond the Stars is a sci-fi film from 1980. It’s a version of Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai. 

I watched it not long ago on the netflix and noticed something about the ships.

The bad guys are a big conquering group that takes over planets by force. The good guys are a small, peaceful, agrarian group on a little, backwater planet.

The first thing I noticed was the opening shot of the bad guys is very much like the opening of Star Wars (Episode 4).

(you can forward through the credits to around 1’40”)

Actually there are a lot of Star Wars references in the film. Or maybe they’re rip-offs, or perhaps just innocent similarities.

Anyway, the next thing I noticed about the bad guys’ ship was that it’s sort of phallic, although slightly triangular.

Now, the good guys ship? A uterus.

However, from some angles you may notice a resemblance to testicles. Or, if you get up close enough, it may resemble breasts.

Now, I don’t know if that whole phallic/yonic thing was intentional. Maybe I’m reading more into it than is there. But you look at it and tell me what you think.