the fatling

Fatcrastination

Fanlings and Fatlurkers, I’ve been procrastinating a lot at my job this week.  I am doing it right now.  I have been doing it so much that I didn’t even let myself go into the office for bagels and the enormous, glorious snack room.  We’re into day two of mainly eating blue corn sesame tortilla chips, and those are almost gone.  I also have had a nectarine and two Diet Cokes.  I wasn’t kidding about falling off the wagon.

But it’s really, really easy to be healthy, wealthy and wise when you’ve got a lot of time on your hands to make food.  Which I don’t at present, unless you count the time when I’m dicking around on Jezebel for six of the eight hours I work on any given day.  It’s a sickness.  Especially when I could be dicking around on Tumblr instead, dropping Fatwisdom on my 15 official Fanlings! 

So here’s what we got for right now.  Last night, I was hosting my open mic, like I do.  I did a little time at the top and then got into the show.  After a while, this dude got up and commented that my jokes which are sexual in nature make him worried about potentially having a daughter someday.  I quizzed him on this and I guess the gist of things was that someday he might have a daughter and someday she might talk about sex in front of people?  WTF?

This is problematic in two ways.  First of all, the (perhaps unconscious) implication that the Fatling should not tell hilarious jokes about sex, which is blasphemy.  The Fatling’s sex jokes are some of the finest sex jokes from here to Amsterdam.  Second of all, his comment more obviously addresses the MAJOR PROBLEM dudes have with their precious lady offspring discovering she comes equipped with a hole that she can put things in, putting things in it and then having strong opinions about the process.  Again, WTF?!

The trope goes that men are so depraved and disgusting in their relentless quest for poon tang that men who then impregnate one of their conquests with lady offspring then get all weird and overprotective of said offspring, because in their minds, she needs to be protected from all the other depraved and disgusting men who want to stick things in her hole.  And hey, up until the age said lady offspring can consent to who and what she wants to rent that real estate out to, that’s not such a terrible thing.

But if the thought of one’s grown-ass daughter having sex and/or discussing it in public makes a dude all queasy, then doesn’t that point to a problem with him rather than a problem with his daughter?  I mean, seriously, Turdface, let it go!  Girls like sex!  Some of us love it, and you’re probably not as depraved and disgusting as you think you are.  You probably just went to Catholic school.

This incident reminded me of a conversation I had with the Turdface husband of my old boss.  Brokeback Mountain had just hit theatres and middle America was clutching its pearls with vigor.  GAY?!?!?!  COWBOYS?!?!?!  The Midwestern mind was positively reeling, no one’s more so than Turdface.  I was over at my boss’ house, maybe not getting drunk for a change, because she was either pregnant or had just recently given birth.  Turdface brought up Brokeback completely unprovoked and proclaimed that its very existence angered him because he did not want to have to explain to his daughter “why two faggots are walking in the mall holding each other’s crotches.”  I pointed out to him that fucking nobody does that, straight or gay.  He was unconvinced and chose to continue camouflage his ignorance behind a smoke screen of protecting his daughter from the evils of all sexuality.

What is the Fatpoint?  I don’t know.  Maybe that I’m tired of people projecting their sexual insecurities onto an entire gender?  That seems about right, let’s go with that.  I need another round of tortilla chips before I can come up with a coherent argment.