Go Kat, with your bad e-bay self!

I hope this doesn't turn out wrong or badly, but I've pretty much decided that Dita needs another animal in the house before I can be ready for the dog, so I'm starting the process of getting another cat.

Apparently I'm hard-hearted because I don't see the everpresent threat that no straight man can avoid, that every time he has sex, it can be turned against him and used to ruin his social standing and cost him his job.

I do recall, in my late teens/early twenties, that this kind of thing felt like a real threat. Rather mitigated by the fact that I was in fact having no sex to be turned against me, but there it is. Looking back, it feels very much like a perception/reality mismatch. You get sensationalistic telemovies, quite possibly starring Jimmy Smits, where some hapless professor succumbs to the seductive wiles of an unstable temptress, and rape accusations, general opprobrium and other such wackiness ensues. The viewer is of course then struck by the chilling thought, "That could be me! I could be Jimmy Smits!"

Then, of course, I reached a point where I actually started having sex, and I swiftly realised that there is not in fact some epidemic of false rape accusations sweeping the nation, and indeed the odds of me ever being Jimmy Smits were astronomically small. I can't think of any situation I've been in where I could realistically regard it as a possibility. This is true even for my brothers.

Having said that, I do recall reading, a couple of decades ago now, that as far as verifiably false accusations went, there is a higher rate for rapes than other serious crimes. However: well, first, I don't recall where it came from and have no way of confirming whether that is actually the case. And second, the number is still dwarfed by the occurrence of entirely real rapes. No category of crime generates a particularly noteworthy rate of false accusation.

If the guy doesn't lose sleep over the idea that he might, one day, be falsely accused of starting fires or robbing people at knifepoint, I think he can probably rest easy that his carnal pursuits are unlikely to jeopardise his job. Unless he posts the pics on Facebook.

But I am not a woman. It's not my fault, I have a penis, okay? I am a man, and I cannot change that fact." is pretty golden for an adult.

Aww. I give credit where credit is due; he's possibly six months ahead of Ryan in reaching this realisation. (He's got the first part down pat. I haven't yet enquired as to whether he regards this as immutable.)

Lee, I'm about ready to mail you this here gray cat who won't shut up. Would that work for you?

I finally gave in and took in the stray gray cat who loves me and has been asking to come inside. After a vet visit and a clean bill of health, of course. He has settled in like he's always been here. It's almost spooky. The other two knew him already from their screen-door conferences, so they're okay with him, if a little wary about the food sitch. But Gray Cat will not stop mmmmmROWing. If he's not eating, resting, or playing, he's wandering around shrilly talking to himself. He doesn't seem to have any interest in going back outside. I don't know WTF he wants or how to make him STFU. Maybe he just needs time to settle down.

norovirus

MRSA

I feel more and more comfortable with my decision never to leave the house again.

Mansplaining is so awesome.

Uranus is gone, but here's the moon. It's pretty awesome too.

be falsely accused of starting fires

Hey!

I do recall, in my late teens/early twenties, that this kind of thing felt like a real threat

I'm glad there's some hope for him. He's 23, I think. Young enough that people over 60 having sex is a gross concept, and young enough that Star Sapphire taking it up the ass from a hung Wonder Woman while she fellates Hawkgirl is still romantic.

Oh, wait, maybe there's less hope than I was thinking.

I think I might have to trufax strike him from my conversational list, for self-defence purposes.

I do have to work on my communication, though. People think I'm upset, when what I'm trying to do is argue rationally. Not heatedly. That's not good.

I do get that people don't usually go on as much as I do without working up a head of steam. Oh, I'm irritated at his asinine self, and creeped out by the thought of him being typical, but I'm not having a weeping fit or anything.

eople think I'm upset, when what I'm trying to do is argue rationally. Not heatedly. That's not good.

That's not you, that's them. They don't like losing, and they're upset, so they blame you for getting upset.

I can't believe you're still talking to the guy with the very odd sense of romance.

and young enough that Star Sapphire taking it up the ass from a hung Wonder Woman while she fellates Hawkgirl is still romantic.

Is that a thing? Now? Ever?

Dude, you live in the North American capitol of Rule 34.