Thursday, May 10, 2007


Porn! (Caution: Adult Content)

There are many signs of spring. Flowers, allergies, women wearing pastels, and so forth are the obvious ones. I came across a more specialized sign a few weeks ago, on the cold and rainy day before Presidents' Day (known around here as Marathon Day). No flowers, no pastels, no itchy eyes, and to make matters more confusing, our federal government decided to mess with Daylight Savings time, making it begin one month earlier.
Now, pardon me, but I must digress here. I suppose it is well within the power of the federal government to fiddle, futz, mess, and otherwise tinker with the calendar, which is ridiculous anyway. It would be well within the rights of our accidentally elect-purchased officials to generate a calendar consisting of 13 True Months of 28 days each, naming the 13th month Lastember or something, and then having the 365th day of each year occur without a month at all, similar to the way Washington, DC is without a state. Alternatively, 10 sections (too far from the lunar cycle to call them months) alternating 36-day units and 37-day units, five of each. That way we could ditch, say, February (too hard to spell, always tortured us with a non-standard length) and August (no holidays, what a drag). In any case, the calendar is currently more or less intact, except for the above-mentioned change in Daylight savings time. Now, I may be nit-picking here, and I like a lighter evening as much as the next guy - maybe more, now that I can use wireless internet on the front porch - but if Daylight savings is 7 months long, and Standard Time is 5 months long, then standard time isn't really the standard, now, is it? Standard time is the deviation from the norm. It is, logically, not the Standard. This may bother me for 7 months out of every 12 until I die, or they put me on stronger meds, whichever comes first.
OK, that wasn't the point at all. The point was, I was without my touchstones for Spring, nearly a month after the astronomical beginning of spring. Who came to my rescue? You'll never guess (go on, try). ...
Penguins! That's right, there I was in the New England Aquarium with a gazillion other people including my impressionable young daughter, and the penguins, according to older-than-ancient, mysterious animal wisdom, decided that it was spring. Penguins, in the spring, do what everyone else does in the spring: they become insatiably horny. Now, I know that penguins are Southern Hemispherian, so April for them is technically fall, but I can only tell you what I saw, which was:


And penguins, in addition to being exhibitionist, can go at it for quite some time, let me tell you. I've seen squirrels in the park(under a minute, after lots of running around and no other foreplay), lions in Africa (30 seconds each 15 minutes for 4 days straight, no cigarrettes, no foreplay, no TV), and an interested Tapir (he's got a 3-footer, I swear), and the penguins are the sex gods of the animal kingdom as far as I can tell. Unfortunately, I didn't have the equipment for video to post on the dirty section of You-Tube, and I wasn't brave enough to ask Mrs. Livingjetlag for the camera, so I don't have a good picture to show you. I'm sorry. I can't even give you good audio of the Sex Song Of Ten Gazillion Frogs that goes on in the swamps around my home every night now, a much less expensive and touristy sign of spring than Aquarium Penguins Gone Wild, but still an effective one.

Have a good night, and dream about sex in formalwear.

Your humblest and most devoted servant,
Living Jetlag.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?