No, I'm not talking about illegal immigrants or criminals, but rather today's teenagers. And when I say "lock them up" the girls get locked in a convent and the boys gets stuck with a bunch of liquored up Jesuits who are determined to grill them for four years about the use of the past pluperfect in Latin.

Because, when they're left to their own devices, well....

{...}Alair is headed for the section of the second-floor hallway where her friends gather every day during their free tenth period for the “cuddle puddle,” as she calls it. There are girls petting girls and girls petting guys and guys petting guys. She dives into the undulating heap of backpacks and blue jeans and emerges between her two best friends, Jane and Elle, whose names have been changed at their request. They are all 16, juniors at Stuyvesant. Alair slips into Jane’s lap, and Elle reclines next to them, watching, cat-eyed. All three have hooked up with each other. All three have hooked up with boys—sometimes the same boys. But it’s not that they’re gay or bisexual, not exactly. Not always.

Their friend Nathan, a senior with John Lennon hair and glasses, is there with his guitar, strumming softly under the conversation. “So many of the girls here are lesbian or have experimented or are confused,” he says.

Ilia, another senior boy, frowns at Nathan’s use of labels. “It’s not lesbian or bisexual. It’s just, whatever . . . ”

Since the school day is winding down, things in the hallway are starting to get rowdy. Jane disappears for a while and comes back carrying a pint-size girl over her shoulder. “Now I take her off and we have gay sex!” she says gleefully, as she parades back and forth in front of the cuddle puddle. “And it’s awesome!” The hijacked girl hangs limply, a smile creeping to her lips. Ilia has stuffed papers up the front of his shirt and prances around on tiptoe, batting his eyes and sticking out his chest. Elle is watching, enthralled, as two boys lock lips across the hall. “Oh, my,” she murmurs. “Homoerotica. There’s nothing more exciting than watching two men make out.” And everyone is talking to another girl in the puddle who just “came out,” meaning she announced that she’s now open to sexual overtures from both boys and girls, which makes her a minor celebrity, for a little while.

When asked how many of her female friends have had same-sex experiences, Alair answers, “All of them.” Then she stops to think about it. “All right, maybe 80 percent. At least 80 percent of them have experimented. And they still are. It’s either to please a man, or to try it out, or just to be fun, or ’cause you’re bored, or just ’cause you like it . . . whatever.”

With teenagers there is always a fair amount of posturing when it comes to sex, a tendency to exaggerate or trivialize, innocence mixed with swagger. It’s also true that the “puddle” is just one clique at Stuyvesant, and that Stuyvesant can hardly be considered a typical high school. It attracts the brightest public-school students in New York, and that may be an environment conducive to fewer sexual inhibitions. “In our school,” Elle says, “people are getting a better education, so they’re more open-minded.” {...}

Read the whole thing. It gets worse/better. Depending upon how you view things.

There are times when I feel more like Methuselah rather than the thirty-five-year old that I am. This would be one of those times.

Posted by: Kathy at 09:43 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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My dear pal Robbo the Llamabutcher hits 41 today.

Go over and heckle wish him a very happy birthday!

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Blogging will be light to non-existent until further notice as I have, ONCE AGAIN, gotten sick.

I can't even come up with a witty throwaway line for this space. I've struggled and struggled and can't string two thoughts together in a coherent fashion, so I'm going to go and shower (because I feel bleechy) and then I'm going to retire to the sofa where I will either read or watch something crappy on tee vee. I might even nap a bit. And while I'm lying on the sofa, my bones flabby with illness, I'll---undoubtedly---think up a witty line for this spot, and when I do...

...well, if I were you, I wouldn't have high hopes for it to make it to this page.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:05 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

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Just clicked over to see what the boys were up to and blew a mouthful of Sprite all over my screen when I saw the new banner they've put up.

JESUS CHRIST ON A PIECE OF TOAST!

The boys' obsession with this Melissa WhateverTheHellHerNameIs has gotten way out of control. She's WAY out of your league, boysl. WAY out of your league. Lest we forget their origins:

Didn't happen with Kelly LeBrock. Ain't. Gonna. Happen. With. Melissa. Give up the ghost already.

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The peanut has arrived!

Margi and Koolaid are now the proud parents of a baby boy, 4lbs, 15oz and 18 inches long!

WOOOOOHOOOOOOOO!

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Catholicism Works!

DUBLIN (Reuters) - Scientists in Ireland may have found the country's most fertile male, with more than 3 million men worldwide among his offspring.

The scientists, from Trinity College Dublin, have discovered that as many as one in twelve Irish men could be descended from Niall of the Nine Hostages, a 5th-century warlord who was head of the most powerful dynasty in ancient Ireland.

His genetic legacy is almost as impressive as Genghis Khan, the Mongol emperor who conquered most of Asia in the 13th century and has nearly 16 million descendants, said Dan Bradley, who supervised the research.

"It's another link between profligacy and power," Bradley told Reuters. "We're the first generation on the planet where if you're successful you don't (always) have more children."

The research was carried out by PhD student Laoise Moore, at the Smurfit Institute of Genetics at Trinity. Moore, testing the Y chromosome which is passed on from fathers to sons, examined DNA samples from 800 males across Ireland.

The results -- which have been published in the American Journal of Human Genetics -- showed the highest concentration of related males in northwest Ireland, where one in five males had the same Y chromosome.

Bradley said the results reminded the team of a similar study in central Asia, where scientists found 8 percent of men with the same Y chromosome. Subsequent studies found they shared the same chromosome as the dynasty linked to Genghis Khan.

{...}When international databases were checked, the chromosome also turned up in roughly 2 percent of all male New Yorkers.

That's some seriously useful fertility.

{Hat tip: My Maximum Leader}

Posted by: Kathy at 08:46 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Well, actually it is fake, but...you should read it anyway.

Because Oprah said so.

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Flask schmask.

Get one of these instead.

The dear friend, ML, carries a bottle of wine this way when she's got a long flight. She's informed me also that they're quite good for the single malts, too.

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Today the boys informed me they were going to have Bones put on his Hulk costume and then shoot nerf stuff at his butt to see if he could feel it.

It gets better.

Go read the whole thing and don't drink any sort of beverage when you do.

{hat tip: Cal Tech Girlie}

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Margi's on her way to the hospital.

Keep thy fingers and toes crossed, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, for it could be a bumpy ride.

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It's official: every time I hear AC/DC's Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap, I think of this.

The image won't stop popping up every time I hear that song. I'll be in the middle of being conflicted about sweating copiously during a workout, AC/DC will come on and I'll start laughing at the thought of those words coming out of a four-year-old girl's mouth.

I don't quite know what to think about this, other than I doubt that's the image the band had in mind when they wrote it.

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I believe I mentioned that I received this calendar from ML and the Doctor. So far, I'm enjoying it and have received lots of good hints about how to survive a plane crash and being locked in a walk-in freezer, but since there are only so many of those hints they can give out, they pepper the calendar with pages labeled, "This Day in Survival History."

I'm posting today's entry because I have a feeling Robbo will get a kick out of it.

On this day (January 17) in 1773, Captain James Cook completed his first crossing of the Antarctic Circle. On this expedition, only his second voyage, he also became the first person to circumnavigate the world in both directions. In his ship, the HMS Resolution, he crossed the Antarctic Circle two more times and sailed as far south as 71 degrees, 10' before being beset by ice. Although the ice prevented him from reaching Antarctica, he was able to establish that the continent must be largely uninhabitable and would not be a productive addition to the British Empire. Captain Cook was also noted for his attention to the cleanliness of ships and the diet of his sailors: Our of a crew of 118 on a voyage lasting more than three years, only one man died.

Now, I'm sure Robbo will expand on this and I'll update when he does. I'm sure he'll also let us know where in the Aubrey/Maturn series we can find the fictionalized adventures of Captain Cook.

UPDATE: I told you he'd do it.

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Awards season starts tonight!

Ahhhh... When all the celebrities come out to pat themselves on the back for doing such a good job whilst earning a 2007 IRS deduction for their most recent boob job simultaneously.

You gotta love it. And, like a Hollywood PR whore, I can't quite help myself.

Hence I will be liveblogging this momentous event.

The fun starts at 6pm CST, for the various pre-shows.

The snark tap will---undoubtedly---be fully open.

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And there's no wistfulness attached to that statement, but I've always thought the place must be pretty kitschy, given that it's home to Tony Soprano, Kevin Smith, Alfred Einstein and, last but not least, Fausta.

Turns out I was right:

TRENTON, N.J. - With curious officeworkers gawking and strip-bar standards playing in the background, several hundred people joined a handful of exotic dancers in front of the Statehouse on Thursday to rally against New Jersey's new indoor smoking ban.

About 20 of the women — who, to the disappointment of some in the crowd, didn't reveal anything more risque than their midriffs — said the ban will result in lost clients and lost money.

"It's going to murder our business," said Dominique Hernandez, 24, who dances at a lounge in Florence. "A lot of people want to get off of work, have a drink and a smoke and watch some pretty girls. There's nothing wrong with that."

Apparently not, judging by the looks Hernandez — in tight jeans and a revealing black T-shirt — received from onlookers.

"I'm just passing by on the way to the office," was the refrain from many men, and some women, in the crowd.

But many said they came to protest the smoking ban, saying it was a violation of their rights.

"I've been a smoker since I was 13 and it's really against our rights," said Allan Brophy, 24, of Union. "Pretty soon they're going to be outlawing it in our houses."

Brophy did admit that word of strippers at the rally had "piqued my interest."{...}

Strippers, who are being hit in the G-string by yet another smoking ban, are out there, fighting for their fiscal survival. God love 'em.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:34 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Oprah's codependent.

NEW YORK - Oprah Winfrey broke her silence about James Frey's disputed memoir of addiction, "A Million Little Pieces," dismissing allegations of falsehoods as "much ado about nothing" and urging readers who have been inspired by the book to "Keep holding on."

"What is relevant is that he was a drug addict ... and stepped out of that history to be the man he is today and to take that message to save other people and allow them to save themselves," Winfrey said Wednesday night in a surprise phone call to CNN's Larry King, who was interviewing Frey on his live television program.{...}

If Random House is offering people their money back, well, that just means like the Paris incident last summer, Oprah's once again having a momentary delusion of grandeur. And just like last summer, it's all about the delusion of what she thinks is happening in her world, while the rest of us see something entirely different.

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Ok, since everyone else is doing it and I'm a sucker that way with the peer pressure, those of you who stop by on a regular basis but who don't comment and leave me wondering about who the hell you are when I troll through the referral logs, here's your golden opportunity to, for once, put me out of my misery.

It's time to delurk, my devoted Cake Eater readers.

Just click on the comments button below and say 'hi'. You don't have to leave an email address or a web address. Just a name. It can be a fake name, too, but I'll be happy so long as you leave that much.

And if you're one of my regular readers from Iceland (I was checking the super duper server stats today and there were a BOATLOAD of hits from Iceland!) say "hi" and tell me why you are here. Is it that boring there in the winter that you have to surf blogs to keep from going nuts? Do tell.

Posted by: Kathy at 09:33 PM | Comments (15) | Add Comment
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Muscle weighs more than fat.

Say it with me. Muscle weighs more than fat.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

And if you say it enough times, it might actually turn out to be true.

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So...I can't keep a lid on this one any longer.

I was hoping the urge to discuss it would pass me by, but it hasn't. Hence I'm going to submit to it and let the cards fall where they may.

This person I know---who shall remain anonymous---is receiving an unusual present for Christmas. I say "receiving" because they haven't actually gotten their present yet, but will be sometime in the near future.

You, my devoted Cake Eater readers, are undoubtedly wondering what this "unusual" Christmas present is.

Well, it's a boob job.

It's something that she wants, and her husband is quite happy with her the way she is, but has told her if this is what she really wants, she should go ahead with it and this will be her Christmas present.

What say you, my devoted Cake Eater readers? Would you be happy with a boob job for a Christmas present? Would you be happy, if you're one of my male Cake Eater readers, giving your wife this present, instead of, say, a nice piece of jewelry? Or is this just like giving money to your spouse to buy that bass fishing boat they've always wanted.

Discuss.

Posted by: Kathy at 09:57 AM | Comments (14) | Add Comment
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Because he bought us, his favorite tenants, a gift card to this place for Christmas.

(CAN YOU FREAKIN' BELIEVE IT??? THERE ARE GOOD LANDLORDS OUT THERE! THEY'RE NOT AN EXTINCT SPECIES! HURRAH!)

The restaurant is large and airy and is, quite literally, within stumbling distance from the Cake Eater pad. The booze is good. The food is even better. The people watching is excellent.

The dessert rules as well. (Apple spice cake with creme anglaise. Mmmmm)

And they have quotes on the wall.

My favorite?

How can you not love a restaurant brave enough to quote Hannibal the Cannibal?

Posted by: Kathy at 08:48 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 What a lovely thing to do. Makes this cynical NY'er think you're paying too much in rent, however.

Posted by: Random Penseur at January 08, 2006 05:39 AM (fWrQ6)

2 I'm assuming they serve fava beans. And a nice chianti.

Posted by: The Random Yak at January 10, 2006 12:28 PM (dsGTv)

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