In late, but hopefully In Time...aka The Ideal Type...aka Profiles in Courage, The MTV Edition
Edit: Forgot the shoutout to Doc for putting this bean in my head!
For every injured and aspiring soul, an avatar exists. Mine, exquisite and fully realized, bore a moniker belying her transcendent nature. Sporty, she was called by the cretins of Fleet. And there was truth in it, although a truth as incomplete as it was refracted. I cannot deny her physique is an ode to the Platonic ideal of Amazon Unbound. Yet much is missed in this opaque etching.
In Sporty we had Woman as Testament to the Ambiguity of Gender. Was she in fact a woman? Am I in fact a man? Are you truly a hermaphrodite or is that just your idea of a Phuket pickup line?
With Sporty we had a welcome liberation from the traditions that a woman should have an air of feminity, an adversity to sweating, grunting, smelling like a thoroughbred, and well, er…a rack, so to speak. The speculation her undescended testicles had, truth be told, descended remains unverifiable, but I for one am a believer. What more could the transgender community hope for in a de facto spokesperson? I looked to Sporty and dared to hope someday my brothers and sisters in the normal genotype/phenotype community would learn from her that rarest of virtues: comfort in ones own inexplicable skin.
As for me, if given an opportunity – say perhaps during a Transporter accident as part of an away mission – I would be proud to switch places with Sporty and do all I know he/she would to carry the banner of tolerance, mutual respect and ego integrity. Mmmm? You say ego integrity is a separate banner altogether? Very well, I could try to carry two, but it’s been months since I’ve seen the inside of a gym so I’m not making promises. I should be familiar with most of the working parts given past experience with auto-eroticism and a fondness for the fairer sex in general. And I know I would grow as a person while struggling under the heavy mantle of Role Model, PopStar and Chromosomal Anomaly.
Besides, Posh is a billionaire crack ho, Scary has no street cred, Trip has dibs on Baby, and Ginger is one bad day away from a career in adult theatre.
Sporty: The Thinking Man’s Seasoning.
For every injured and aspiring soul, an avatar exists. Mine, exquisite and fully realized, bore a moniker belying her transcendent nature. Sporty, she was called by the cretins of Fleet. And there was truth in it, although a truth as incomplete as it was refracted. I cannot deny her physique is an ode to the Platonic ideal of Amazon Unbound. Yet much is missed in this opaque etching.
In Sporty we had Woman as Testament to the Ambiguity of Gender. Was she in fact a woman? Am I in fact a man? Are you truly a hermaphrodite or is that just your idea of a Phuket pickup line?
With Sporty we had a welcome liberation from the traditions that a woman should have an air of feminity, an adversity to sweating, grunting, smelling like a thoroughbred, and well, er…a rack, so to speak. The speculation her undescended testicles had, truth be told, descended remains unverifiable, but I for one am a believer. What more could the transgender community hope for in a de facto spokesperson? I looked to Sporty and dared to hope someday my brothers and sisters in the normal genotype/phenotype community would learn from her that rarest of virtues: comfort in ones own inexplicable skin.
As for me, if given an opportunity – say perhaps during a Transporter accident as part of an away mission – I would be proud to switch places with Sporty and do all I know he/she would to carry the banner of tolerance, mutual respect and ego integrity. Mmmm? You say ego integrity is a separate banner altogether? Very well, I could try to carry two, but it’s been months since I’ve seen the inside of a gym so I’m not making promises. I should be familiar with most of the working parts given past experience with auto-eroticism and a fondness for the fairer sex in general. And I know I would grow as a person while struggling under the heavy mantle of Role Model, PopStar and Chromosomal Anomaly.
Besides, Posh is a billionaire crack ho, Scary has no street cred, Trip has dibs on Baby, and Ginger is one bad day away from a career in adult theatre.
Sporty: The Thinking Man’s Seasoning.
posted by Iakaris aka I.A.K. at 7:35 PM
10 Comments:
Sometimes I really have no idea what you're talking about. And that's a good thing.
ahhh from a flight of iakarus to "the truth behind the spice girls" ET true hollywood story by Iak.... ps the spice girls were hot back in the day and yes i've even seen the pathetic movie spice world.......
I actually thought spice world to be the one redeeming feature in their tragic resume of shit.
Really had you picked as a Posh man Iak! Good food, good wine, and she doesn't take it up the arse...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fgRpX6FU2Z4
if only I had a vote......
brilliant.
So are you saying you want to be a hermaphrodite? You could have said that in five words like me.
Peak: almost all the time I have no idea what I am talking about, which is also a good thing.
Rav: yeah, but I OWN the SpiceWorld DVD...
Mark: I won't get into particulars, but you actually hit on exactly what disqualified Posh in your praise of her...
jj: tx bro, but I am partial to Junk's.
Waffles: I love you.
I commend you upon your Spice Girl selection.
Nice hand, sir.
If you were a hermaphrodite, would you try to do yourself?
LOL . . . "Scary has no street cred" . . . gotta love that line! maybe she needs to marry ron artest. that will help out her thug image.
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