|By “Lives,” Of Course, She Means “Boobs”
I’ve bought boobs for my friends, and believe me, their lives changed completely.
|We Read Hillary’s Book (Well, Part of It)
Not to be confused with Alex Haley’s Roots, Hillary Clinton’s memoir Living History was published this week. So far, it has sold more copies than any work of non-fiction ever. It has also roused predictable controversy. What’s happening to American literature when a Senator can publish a sloppy confessional memoir? What’s happening to American feminism when we can only accept a powerful woman when she writes a sloppy confessional memoir? Did she really not read The Starr Report? Anyway, TWIS thought the book was the funniest, least sexy masquerade since that scene between Carre Otis and Bruce Greenwood in Wild Orchid. (No cigars, no semen, no mention of sex other than the number
of times that objectionable word appeared in the Starr Report 581, if you’re interested.) We could opine about this, but instead we decided to let the undoctored facts speak for themselves. Here, the Augmented Living History Index. You might notice it includes nothing before page 441. That’s because we started reading at the point where Monica came in.
Abuse of power, Bill Clinton charged with, 441, 449, 478, 503
For ideological and malicious ends to topple a President, 472
Big Bird, 453
Carpetbagger, 504, 510, 512
Failure to acknowledge Bono, 529-534
Farce, absurdist, 479
Farce, political, 492
Fashion designers, other than Hugo Boss, 462, 479
Forgiveness, comparison of effort to forgive Bill with Nelson Mandela’s ability to forgive the oppressive regime which imprisoned him for 27 years, 480
Forklifter operator, concerns of, in congruence with those of a First Lady, 473
Hair, jokes about, 433
Hairsplitting, legalistic, 467
High heels, suffering caused by, 474, 491
“Hillaryland,” 523, 531
Historical legacy, awareness of one’s own, 499, 519
Inspirational moment, while gazing at starry sky, 470
Inspirational moment, with girl’s basketball team captain, 501
Inspirational moment, remembering favorite Madonna movie, 502
“Kooky,” Senate bid described as, 502
Male genitalia, single reference to (actually, Giuliani’s prostate), 515
Nerve, 446, 522
Oral sex, phrase that could possibly be used as euphemism for, if taken completely out of context (okay, so it’s an account of Polish delicacies consumed at campaign trail state fair visit, but “ate a sausage,” right? Right?), 509
Political philosophy, summed up with Fleetwood Mac lyric, 526
Pun on “it takes a village,” bad, 529
Root canal, as preferable to Today Show appearance, 444
“Screw thee,” 445
Senate Spouses Club, 505
“Vast conspiracy,” existence of confirmed and explained, 446
Wintour, Anna, 478
“Yellow Oval Room,” 465, 477, 480
Jen Dolloff and Carrie Hill Wilner
So . . . sick of . . . Viagra . . . stories. The American news media is like a proud parent who must meticulously record every single step, word and dookie Viagra makes. And I am like the bored co-worker who doesn’t want to see any more pictures. No more! This drug is lame! Anyway, the latest bit of Viagra non-news is that Wrigley’s, the proud creators of Doublemint and that nasty Juicy Fruit gum which is probably the one thing in the world that tastes least like a juicy fruit has been granted a U.S. patent for a chewing gum containing sildenafil citrate, the active ingredient in Viagra. This gum will serve to, uh, be Viagra in gum. It is also intended to work faster than a pill and to aid men who find Viagra hard to swallow and/or nausea-inducing. (So once again, I must ask, what about me?) Anyway, there are no plans to produce the gum before 2011, when Pfizer Corp.’s patent for Viagra expires and sildenafil citrate becomes available under its much-catchier generic name. In the meantime, this development has inspired innumerable bad newspaper puns involving the phrase “double your pleasure.” It has also inspired me to think of other exciting, non-traditional methods of drug diffusion. Like, what if you could lace cheap vodka with aspirin and spare yourself five miserable, head-pounding minutes fumbling over that childproof cap the next morning? What if you could breed special dogs that excreted Claritin so that I could pet them? That would be so cool. Carrie Hill Wilner
|Oh No, Ono!
Thirty-one years ago, the arse-faced art-shrieker Yoko Ono and her put-upon hubby, John Lennon, proclaimed, “Woman is the n—-r of the world” in a song of the same name. Lennon then hammered the point home by shagging the snot out of Yoko’s personal assistant for eighteen months. Whatever gets you through the night, I guess. Well, after all this time, it seems that Yoko’s mellowed some. Like most old ladies, she has embarked on the first stage of shrugging off this mortal coil starting to say some whacked-out shit. (FYI, the next stage is hoarding individual packets of ketchup.) This week, in honor of Father’s Day, Yoko took out a one-page ad in The Village Voice as a gesture of solidarity with the world’s menfolk. TWIS would try to make this funnier, but she’s kind of beaten us to it. Below, the ad in its entirety. Grant Stoddard
FOR FATHER’S DAY
YOKO ONO JUNE 15TH, 2003
Happy Father’s Day!
I know that our kids will be blessing you on this day.
Usually, we women, wearing so many hats, tend to leave it to our kids to bless you. But I’d like to make a point for this father’s day that we appreciate and bless you too.
For centuries, we have been in love with you. We love you for what you are and respect you for trying to do your best.
Because us women are an intelligent, strong and powerful race of people, sometimes you must find us intimidating. But fear not. We are in your corner. We are your partners in life. We share and understand your struggle and your effort to stay wise and clear in our rapidly changing society. We, especially, respect you for your decision to commit yourselves to being fathers. It is a very tough decision to make in today’s world in which constant adjustment of your ideas and actions are demanded of you. I don’t know if we ever thanked you. So here it is, thank you, and we love you.
|Wal-Mart Fascists, vol. 4, episode 12.
When Wal-Mart stopped carrying Maxim, Stuff and FHM because of their salacious headlines and photos (like that inexplicable shot of Kristen Dunst in white Daisy Dukes with a Red Cross symbol on the crotch what the fuck?), TWIS was there on the front line, cutting and pasting from Reuters reports with a speed and accuracy unmatched by any other weekly sex news roundup in New York City. Now Wal-Mart’s at it again, and so are we. It was announced this week that the ‘Mart plans to obscure covers of certain women’s magazines using mysterious “U-shaped blinders,” which, despite sounding like variations on the standard gimp mask, are presumably intended for the magazines themselves, not concerned Christians. The cover-up was prompted by customer distress over marginally racy celebrity cover photos and fifty-point headlines such as, “How To Suck Dick Better in Ten Days Because You Will Never Have Anything Else Going For You, You Hideous, Wal-Mart-Shopping Slag.” TWIS hopes the policy will also prevent susceptible ladies from encountering suggested pick-up lines such as, “Let’s work off that hamburger I ate for lunch.” That’s real. I read it in my roommate’s Cosmo; I swear. I mean, she just leaves them lying around, really. Really! Seriously, a single use of that line could damn you to a sexless life. Carrie Hill Wilner
|Chastened! With Carrie Hill Wilner
Last week, I asked if anyone knew where in the Bible it said anything about chicks not being allowed to wear pants. Forty-six of you responded. That’s sick. Don’t you have jobs? Or cable? I suppose it’s incumbent upon me to recognize publicly that, as so many of you pointed out, the Bible does indeed state in Deuteronomy 22:5, “A woman shall not wear anything that pertains to a man, nor shall a man put on a woman’s garment, for all who do so are an abomination to the Lord your God.” I’m glad we were able to clear that up. Thanks, freaks!
This Week in Sex is reported by Grant Stoddard and Carrie Hill Wilner and edited by Michael Martin. If we missed any sex in the news, let us know at email@example.com. There is a thing we like to do called Masturbating to Cult Magazines. In fact, this week one of us we’re not saying who! took issues of Spy, Might, Details circa 1989 and Radar into the men’s room, and this is what we found: the winner was Spy, which produced instant multiple climaxes from a mere glimpse at the cover. Spy is the Jenna Jameson of cult magazines: something everyone’s had a wank over, and sexier in reputation than reality. Might caused impotence. Early Details produced injaculation at first, but the four-page feature on canapes made us come hard. Radar produced a climax we couldn’t remember thirty seconds later; when we saw the charticle about online dating (psst!) we thought we’d be able to get it up again but just couldn’t… quite… pull it… off. Good try, though!