Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Play Her Isms

I was recently contacted by a local university in regards to a student being investigated for plagiarism.

Apparently, they do a random web sweep of certain phrasings and found my blog came up. I can’t wait to find out who it is (I have my suspicions), but I’m not sure how I feel about ruining someone’s academic life.

I will refrain from posting anything new until this is resolved, but hate to leave a gap (who doesn’t?) so will gently pluck from the archives here and there.


I'm Not Human, I'm Just Stuck in One, Pt. 2

I was just having a chat with my friend Candy about Marlon Brando in that scene in "Last Tango in Paris" where he's shoving butter up that woman's ass.

Who thought that one up? Is/was this a common thing, butter-packing? Do you think it inspired others to squish some "Land O' Lakes" between the cakes?

Imagine the director, Bertolucci, telling Brando "Ok, the butter…you put uppa her ass, no?"

Brando was probably like "But then what do we put up mine, paté ? Frozen, or fresh? I need to know how to project the texture - it's a Stanislovski thing."

I do wonder how one mentally prepares for a day of filming that requires a straight face while implementing a stick of butter into someone else's rectal area. Or for that matter, being on the receiving end of the dairy product. Was there like 20 takes with a big cooler of fresh butter from craft services at hand? Can you tell the difference if they use margarine instead?

Think of the conversations between the stand-ins while the lighting is being tested for this shot, or better yet, imagine the actress, after the scene, deciding the best route of removal. Let it melt or is it latex glove snapping time?

Were there other items that Bertolucci first opted for butt plugging, but found they didn't suit the scene? What was the deciding factor that butter was the clincher?

I used to play with this drummer who let me have a go on his kit whenever we took a break at practice, that is, until he told me his girlfriend would shove his drumsticks up his ass whenever they had sex. I can still hear the clicking sounds of the sticks when they fell from my very sorry hands to the unsuspecting floor below (that floor never did forgive me). I scrubbed like a surgeon about to crack open a lawyer after that tidbit of information (there is a limit to how well informed I want to be). It certainly gave new meaning to the term "rim shot", if nothing else.

I guess I'm boring vanilla, since I'm pretty much an "exit only" person when it comes to the workings of my butt, though I don't begrudge those that get hopped up on the old "reach around", I guess. Your thing is your thing.

How does one broach the subject these days? Especially if butter is the insertion of choice. Do you just stop off at the fridge on the way to the bedroom, point and raise your eyebrows? Or do you discuss it beforehand, over dinner when the bread arrives?

Currently listening:
I Should Coco
By Supergrass
Release date: 1995-07-18