It seems that people would rather read about skanky Beijing than anything else, certainly more than they want to read about my philosophical musings (why aren't I getting any?) or culinary experiences (how can I duplicate this at home with local crap ingredients, no time, no oven, and very little hope of success?) Yeah, well, I write this primarily as a means of release for myself, and incidentally as a way of keeping in touch with a handful of people. Granted, my parents aren't waiting with baited breath to find out if my key card works now, but at least with a blog I no longer have an excuse for forgetting to fill people in on the sort of details they might want to know about my life here. Hey, if they want an update on me, read the dang blog. It might not be strictly truthful but it is largely accurate and those are rare qualities these days.
As for Skanky Beijing...I am sitting on the oddest document I ever saw, a five-page treatise on staging an orgy that is breath-taking for its audacity, its air of self-righteous thrift, and its bizarre, mechanical description of women that crosses the line into abnormal psych. I want to post it, if only for a laugh about how damn cheap the writer is (he sniffs at the quality of snacks at an orgy, as if there wasn't enough there to eat as it was) and how odd the word choice is--but on the other hand, I'm afraid people will start reading this in hopes of being clued into the odder activities of the expat set. If you want to know about the darker workings of the swingers, I'm sure you can find out without having to sift through my daily meanderings about what I ate, who pissed me off, or who I'm crushing on now. I'm too old, too educated, and too selfish to be a skank or a beer slut. So be it. I mention the outrageously bizarre only when it crosses my path, or winds up in my inbox. If you want the creepy stuff, look for it on your own. Start with the personal ads on The Beijinger and work your way down. Me? I've got a new crock-pot recipe for Chili which I'm dying to try out, and that's probably the topic for tomorrow.
As for Skanky Beijing...I am sitting on the oddest document I ever saw, a five-page treatise on staging an orgy that is breath-taking for its audacity, its air of self-righteous thrift, and its bizarre, mechanical description of women that crosses the line into abnormal psych. I want to post it, if only for a laugh about how damn cheap the writer is (he sniffs at the quality of snacks at an orgy, as if there wasn't enough there to eat as it was) and how odd the word choice is--but on the other hand, I'm afraid people will start reading this in hopes of being clued into the odder activities of the expat set. If you want to know about the darker workings of the swingers, I'm sure you can find out without having to sift through my daily meanderings about what I ate, who pissed me off, or who I'm crushing on now. I'm too old, too educated, and too selfish to be a skank or a beer slut. So be it. I mention the outrageously bizarre only when it crosses my path, or winds up in my inbox. If you want the creepy stuff, look for it on your own. Start with the personal ads on The Beijinger and work your way down. Me? I've got a new crock-pot recipe for Chili which I'm dying to try out, and that's probably the topic for tomorrow.
Post Script: how could someone type in "Shit Out Ice Cream" and get directed to this blog? I mean, at what point do I mention pooping and ice cream in the same passage? And who the HELL, and why the hell, would someone want that particular combination of words in the first place? Someone in search of Skanky Beijing I think.
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