Thursday, September 09, 2004
 
House Of Slitherin'
Just when we thought all the conventions were over, all the long droning speeches, all the predictable non-drama, all the false promises of a brighter future...

I heard it. The radio commercial. It's coming.

The NARBC.

I know, I know, everyone assumes I mean the National Angora Rabbit Breeders Club when they see those familiar initials, but no, in this case it's the North American Reptile Breeders Convention. In town (sorta) at the Anaheim Convention Center, Disneyland-close in beautiful downtown Anaheim. The whole magical four-block area comes in almost every conceivable shade of gray. It must be seen to to be believed.

The most interesting/exciting thing about it is that it's not just reptile sellers or reptile owners or even reptile enthusiasts, this is specifically reptile breeders, which says to me that the products/techniques being showcased on the convention floor should be spectacular. If you're like me and you've been kept awake at night, lying in bed, turning over and over in your head "Man, how do iguanas get it on?" this will probably be your best chance to get an answer.

But if you're not like me and instead you're, say, a gecko looking for a night of easy, committment-free lovin', this is probably not the place for you. Sure, they might draw you in with a little mood music, dimmed lights, burning incencse and parfum de cricket, but it's all about business; they want baby geckos. And if you're good at it, the irony is they stick you in a cage and make you do it all the time, even with the really ugly (being a product of multiculturalism, I respect the gecko's culturally-derived method of aesthetic discrimination) gecko females. And while "all the time" might sound great in the beginning, there can be too much of a good thing. No one can sustain that level of interest. Except maybe for Madonna, but that woman is a machine.

I think I may be busy that weekend, but all this brings up one question: do they really need a radio commercial? Are there enough independent, uninformed reptile breeders out there to justify a regional radio campaign to drum up business? And where do they get the money to fund this level of advertising? Is there really that much cash in extracting boa constrictor semen? Because if there is then by now I should be--

No no no no no, nevermind. I was about to make a very crass and utterly false joke about myself and my... well, the less said the better. If you're completely confused and have no idea where I was going with that, then bless you and bless me for my gift of vagueness.

One last note on the good people of NAMBLA... er sorry, NARBC. While the logical, everyday 95% of my brain accepts that "reptile breeders" means people who breed reptiles to other reptiles, that other 5%, the part that knows there's not only an internet discussion forum, but a website, an organization and a newsletter for every kind of outrageous, inconceivable kink out there just wonders if maybe this group isn't dedicated to people... uh... you know... "interfering" with reptiles. You know... sexually.

And while the mental picture of that kind of intimate contact is disturbing (to go along with the fact that it must be particularly painful for the smaller female reptiles), the fact that I could even conjur it up helps me to empathize just a little bit with my favorite senator, Pennsylvania's Rick "Man-On-Dog" Santorum who theorized that accepting homosexuality would inevitibly lead to public acceptance of pedophilia, polygamy, incest and bestiality.

You were right, Rick-o, and I was wrong. I condone homosexuality and look where my mind went with this ridiculous post. People fucking lizards. I am ashamed.


This post on the Narcissus Scale: 7.9


Pops

PS- For more Fun With Sen. Santorum, sex advice columnist Dan Savage, a self-described "big screaming homo" held a contest to associate the name "santorum" with a vile sex act. The winner? "The frothy mix of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the byproduct of anal sex." Go to www.spreadingsantorum.com (if you dare) to learn more about the effort to make the sentaor's name live forever.

Comments:
If they ask, you quit. That's all. You quit. Dog-jerking is where Amy and I draw the line.
 
Hear, hear!

That having been said, I've heard it's an amusing process.
 
C'mon now guys, dog jerking for a living isn't that bad.....so I've heard.
 
Dog-jerking for no professional purpose, however, is something else entirely.
 
Post a Comment

<< Home
|

Powered by Blogger