Since the [onslaught] of the Chinese Virus and resulting stay at home orders, reader email to your Illustrious Editrix has experienced an unprecedented uptick, mainly chit-chat and some personal questions. Some were interesting *cough* and some made me laugh, some surely written before the medication took affect, and some I thought should be answered publicly in the name an informed citizenry.
That said, you guys can stop requesting I send pictures of my breasticials, as the sheer vision of their magnificence could possibly trigger a cardiac episode in some valued readers, and I would feel responsible. So I find that a bad idea. So Stop. Ain't gonna happen.
Dear Ms. Sarcastica,
Look me in the eye baby and tell me how boats work.
Dear bejohnce, this is simple string theory metaphysics. You see, water wants to go down, so does the boat, so water pushes the boat up to get boat out of the way. The trick is you need to find a boat that wants to go down less than the water does. Once you've done that, the boat remains on top of the water (which is real slippery) you can push it. Your welcome, and don't forget to floss.
Is it gay to be a man??? I mean assuming an Aristotelian view of mind-body dualism, you'd be inside a man at all times, No?
There are two things that come to mind when reading your question, things that modern man should refrain from participation. (1- never sit duct-taped to a chair, locked in a room with a three year old playing with a loaded gun. (2- never attempt to explain our present world gone crazy in terms of the ancient philosophers. Were they alive now, they'd be standing in a pool of their own pee on a street corner in Berkeley yelling at passing cars. But to answer your question, Yes you're Gay.
You once mentioned you had some Scottish blood. Me Too, cousins maybe? What is one of you favorite memories of Scottland?
Dear Bactrac, Yes, my paternal grandparents are proud Scots. I mean, Really Proud. Some of my fondest memories are of summer travel in the Scottish countryside. You don't know what fun is until you witnesses a drunk on the Edinburgh to Glasgow train screaming "a hate fuckin' hedgehogs...come at me ya jabby wee cunt" while angrily circling a hairbrush that's been dropped on the floor.