At the risk of coming across (ha) vulgar (ha), that’s a pretty accurate description of my experience at Minut Init.

Nestled in the nasi lemak heaven of Damansara Uptown, Minut Init is an arts space with a misleading name because the concept, possibilities, and even the range of exhibitions at present is enormous. You really have to see it to believe it.

If you’re after the predictably-paced clackety-clack of high heels and intermittent audible hums by self-professed connoisseurs of art, spliced with the incessant (often unwelcome) yammering of curators over Vivaldi’s Four Seasons; all swishing wine and eating canapes in a giant melting pot of douche, then this is not the place for you.

As I walked barefoot across Minut Init’s carpeted floors, I could see no organisational system/theme whatsoever. Art hung everywhere, anywhere; and perched on the floor against a wall if there was nowhere to hang it. I don’t know if the curator had a vision, but whatever he/she/they did, it was good because it left me feeling like it didn’t matter. The motley assortment of art pieces and cosy surroundings intrigued me – I wanted to look at everything.

All I could think of while I was walking through the rooms was how I wished more spaces like that existed. I felt that an unpretentious space like Minut Init probably gave more people access to art than typical sterile galleries with their intimidating polished marble floors and snooty staff.

You can even play mini golf!

Earlier, I was doing research to see if there were ways we could increase the number of small art spaces in KL when I stumbled upon this great article by Maaike Lauwaert called “Size 
Matters 
–
An
 exploration
 of 
the 
indispensability 
of 
small
 art
 spaces”

[At this point, I would like to point out that Maaike Lauwaert, a respected Dutch art curator, also put a sexual spin on her description of small art spaces.]

Among other things, she discusses “art ecology” and how small art spaces fit into the grand scheme of things:

“If you approach the art world as an ecology which has to consist of a wholesome mixture of education, artists, galleries, collectors, curators, art fairs, museums, critics and journals; art spaces are indispensable in this structure because of their flexibility and experimental nature. They are places in which artists hold their first exhibition, where curators and directors learn the profession, where the visitors encounter unknown artists for the first time and where new methods and presentation models are tested and valorised. Much of the knowledge, talent, and innovation produced in small art spaces eventually finds its way to galleries, museums and the general public. Thus they are an indispensable link in the visual arts ecology, both in regard to the supply of new talent as to the innovation in the field. Furthermore, small art spaces, artists’ initiatives and journals have an important local function. They determine the local art climate and liveability of a city for art lovers, artists, curators, and theoreticians.”

If you want to learn more about the importance of small art spaces, I would highly recommend that you read the full article. Click here for a PDF.

The current exhibition at Minut Init is called CREOLE. It’s on from 28th April 2012 till 2nd June 2012 so you should really go check it out. Check the Minut Init Website for more details.

If you’re an artist, talk to them about possibilities. If you have lots of money to spare, either give it to me or invest in another small art space. Both are ways of keeping the dream alive.

How’s Kedah? I know you’ve been worried ever since I took over the business but I assure you I am as bad as I am ever going to be. I got it all under control. In fact, i’m actually writing to share some good news.

By now, if you’ve been following the reports on Bersih 3.0, you would have read all about how our crew were responsible for all the violence and damage in town – breaking the barricades, beating people up, throwing tear gas canisters back at the cops, overturning a cop car… everyone thinks we caused all the trouble, and that we’re the baddest there is in town! Business is booming!

I thought you might be interested in hearing about how we pulled the whole thing off, so here is an account of what happened that day:

As we were there to cause as much trouble as possible, we didn’t want to get caught before things got heated. So we fooled the cops and the press by giving out flowers before the rally.  They thought we were hippies trying to create a happy environment; promote peace and understanding, and all that sort of stupid shit! We sure fooled them! HAHA!

As you can see, the gang and I were actually clad in the latest gangster garb. We were prepared for the shit to get heavy!*

*I told you I am well bad now, I got the lingo down to a T.

We parked ourselves as near to Dataran as we could, in front of the fountains facing the barricade. The whole area in front of us was  already chock-a-block with people, and it was impossible to get through. I think some of those guys had gathered there from the night before.

Check out this video which shows exactly where we were, the number of people who were around us, and the sort of silly chants we were coming up with. Nobody even suspected we were bad ass undercover gangsters about to kick off! You would have been so proud.

We even got some guys in dressed as phantom voters to entertain the crowds. The people were laughing and in good spirits, many even wanted photos with them, we made it feel like Disneyland!

And I made sure we were fully prepared for any eventuality. I got these Brits in as reinforcements at the last minute because everyone knows the British are skilled in the art of colonising. The one on the left is an heir to the East India Trading Company and the one on the right is the product of Chin Peng’s relations with a British spy. Did I get the right people for the job or what?!

So this was all leading up to the mayhem. And you would have read all about how “a small group of people charged through the barricade and rushed the square causing others to follow.”

Actually, a lot of people (most of whom did not even attend the rally) have simply concluded that everybody who went to Bersih was responsible for one thing or another. They have linked us to political groups who want to take over; the home minister thinks we are responsible for all the damage in town; and even Ibrahim Ali has managed to link the event to a threat on malay rights!

But the truth is, we didn’t even do anything!

If anyone bothered checking any of the video footage that’s out there on the internet, they would’ve easily seen that it was near impossible for most people to even get NEAR the barricade. For us, it was because:

1)  We were actually sitting a good distance from the barricade and the crowds prevented us from moving anywhere;

2) The police started shooting tear gas almost immediately after the barricade was broken; and

3) As we were getting away from the tear gas being fired in Dataran, we were ambushed from behind with more tear gas. (In the midst of escaping, one of our boys saw a guy in a yellow Bersih t-shirt taking a gas canister out of his backpack and throwing it on the ground. That shit was fucked up.)

But the fact that there are still people stupid enough to judge the many based on the actions of a few, shows that the level of stupidity in this country remains at an all time high!  And that in turn means that we don’t even need to do ANYTHING in order to achieve notoriety!

Between you and me, and despite all the good this bad press is doing for the business,  I just hope nobody ever finds out that we were actually SCARED when we were ambushed. Of course we were, that shit happened without warning. Everyone knows that if the police fire in front of you, they want you to move back. It makes no sense to fire in both directions to trap the crowd if you’re trying to get them to disperse, right? But I guess  I made a mistake assuming our cops would play fair. They haven’t exactly got the best track record.

Anyway, I really hope no one took photos of us looking helpless, choking from the gas, throwing up in the back alleys. In between coughing fits, I saw that some of our boys were even bleeding from the head. The boys who had recovered were helping those who were falling over and handing out salt to everybody, the whole thing looked like a big hippy gathering of love.

That shit is bad for business.

At the last recruitment drive, we were a bit desperate and got some old people and children to join the gang (they’re cheaper). That was a big mistake because those guys got fucked up real quick by the gas.

To be fair though, there was A LOT OF GAS.

The good news is, it’ll take a while for the idiots in Malaysia to catch on. A lot of them will just believe everything they read in the papers/ see on TV. The less they see, the lower the chances of identifying the people who actually broke the barricade. There is already this video online which does a pretty good job of proving we had nothing to do with it:

Lucky for us though, the government is censoring most of the stuff as usual. Even foreign reports. Check out this video which shows how Astro censored a BBC report:

But those pesky bloggers and citizen journalists aren’t letting up. Apart from all the independent reports online,  Twitterjaya is going apeshite.

It’s only a matter of time before the truth gets out, but we’re making the best of the situation. I’ll write again soon.

Much love,

June

Yesterday I posted the article I wrote about aging and promised i’d tell you more about that today, so I shall.

When they first asked me to write about “Aging Well”, the first few things that popped to mind were the Japanese and their raw fish; the French and their red wine; maybe a few mind maps on how to live a stress free life… We’ve all read enough of those articles. Those who have not can google them. I did, and I reckon if you printed it all out, there’d be enough paper to cover both the Petronas Twin Towers and the Public Bank building. Twice*.

*As a friend to the environment, I would advise against actually doing that. Just trust me on this one.

Anyway, with that in mind, I made a mental note NOT to write about the Japs or the French. There had to be other reasons people in other countries aged well and if there weren’t, I would make some up.

And would you believe….

I know it’s “subjective”, and “different people want different things”, and “maybe that is how their magazine is angled” etc blabla. But can you honestly say you haven’t come across an article like that before? Maybe they were trying to push health supplements, or get travel agents to advertise, I don’t know…

The sad thing is, people who pick up these magazines don’t ever expect to find any interesting gems and are often surprised when they do. They’re just passing time or passing by. And the people who continuously produce magazines like that just think they’ve found a formula that works. It doesn’t matter if the articles are crap because now you know it’s buy 1 get 1 free on Johnson’s Peach Baby Bath at whatever pharmacy.

But come on, in our fast moving world, how many more times do you think you can rinse it? The average attention span is getting shorter with each passing second. Heck, I should’ve just tweeted this.

People are eventually not even gonna bother picking up magazines like that anymore, the way flyers that get chucked into your postbox are largely ignored.

So lets try some new ideas. After all…

Aging Well

By, June Low, February 2012

What does it mean to “age well”? Is it measured by how long you’ve lived, or how good you look; whatever age you’re at?

A 50 year old who looks 21 may be considered one who has “aged well”, yet 50 is not that big a deal compared to a supercentenarian, even one with lung cancer.

So who do we put on the poster?

Wine that has “aged well” tastes better and fetches a higher price after being left alone for a particular period of time. If only the same formula applied to geriatrics.

Articles about how people in other countries age well invariably discuss the lifestyle and diets of the oldest living people on earth, but what’s the point? If you’ve read one recent article, you already know all about the oldest living people in the world.

Don’t believe me?

The old people who are still alive are trying not to die, remember? And there can be no new contenders until one of them does. So when one of our finalists eventually strike out , there will probably be lots of hoo ha in the media to mark the end of their mission (struggle?), and you will probably hear about it.

Till then, trust me, there’s nothing new about the old unless one of them has decided to climb Mount Everest wearing nothing but a sequined bra and Birkenstocks.

But as it’s tradition, i’ll bring up an oldie:

(taken word for word from the Wikipedia entry)

“Jeanne Louie Calment of France lived to the grand old age of 122 years, 164 days. At 85, she took up fencing and rode her bicycle up until her 100th birthday. She was reportedly neither athletic nor fanatical about her health, smoking until the age of 117. She ascribed her longevity to olive oil which she poured on all her food and rubbed onto her skin. She also drank port wine and ate nearly one kilogram of chocolate every week.”

I’ve brought that up to show you just how futile an exercise it is talking about oldest people in the world and their living habits. It’s an inspirational story, but hardly instructive, let alone applicable. If anything, it proves that life is full of surprises, and makes it all the more important to go back to considering what “aging well” means in the first place.

If you think about it, one could die in twenty years, or within the next twenty seconds; at age ten, or age a hundred. Personally, I think the distinction between someone who has aged well and someone who hasn’t is not how they look when they’re dead, or feel when they reach a certain age; but rather how they live in the present. Because as much as you would like to believe that you’ve “aged” only when the wrinkles appear, you’re aging in real time.

I’ve seen so many people brush off advice to “live in the present” in favour of retirement plans, insurance schemes, and traditional practices. The rationale is always that it is the “sensible” thing to do. But when you really stop to think, is it really?

I think living in the present is the more sensible thing to do, and I don’t say that recklessly.

The man who consciously lives in the present has to acknowledge the fragility of life along with the possibility of old age. He is more likely to make decisions to balance both enjoyment and security, than someone who lives for the future, giving in to fear or guilt. Be that through doing hard drugs or yoga, the man living for the Now is probably more in control of his life than the man who lives only to fulfill obligations and expectations.

To die with no regrets, knowing that you truly lived… if that’s not aging well, then I don’t know what is.

The Best Stall

Randy Alcala, Michael James David Angus, Sebastian Guzman

Michael is a published author and ukulele joy spreader

The idea behind the letters was to help others express what they could not; or share what I had felt towards various (fictional or real) characters in my own life. I was a writer, after all. That’s what writers do. They write, right?

At one point, my friend Sebastian made fun of the speed at which I was churning out these letters for random people who walked up to our stall. He basically said they were impersonal. We had a laugh then, but this would later come mean something more.

The bazaar was a great success. Strangers got together and started singing and dancing the way nature intended. I had a lot of fun. But after it ended, I went home and felt utterly depressed.

I lay in bed feeling paralysed. I could not move not just because something was getting me down, but also because I could not figure out what that something was. It’d been a great day, I had absolutely no reason to feel sad.

Eventually, and with a little help from a friend, I realised what it was.

The letters were not impersonal (in fact this explains why they sounded almost sincere) because the whole time, regardless of who had commissioned one and to whom they were addressed, I had been writing to my ideal lover!

When the bazaar ended, so did my little dream. The ideal I had created for the sole purpose of having somebody to write to was gone.

No wonder I was feeling sad! I had essentially broken up with myself! And on top of feeling sad over NOTHING, I was feeling angry with myself for putting myself through this load of mind fuckery which was essentially a classic dating mistake!

Let me lay first lay out what I mean by “classic dating mistake”:

A lot of people (regardless of how much dating experience/medals they have amassed) build castles in the sky when they meet new people. Most people have an ideal (or stuff they would like to see in their lovers), and when they meet someone who ticks some of the right boxes, they start to look forward to a full list of met expectations.

But that’s effectively overlooking the importance of dating/hanging out, where you actually get an opportunity to see if it’s a good fit. I believe that without this period of time, you will inevitably experience disappointment. Unfortunately, it does not mean that if you undergo this period of time, you will not experience disappointment, but perhaps you will be better informed when/if that happens.

The difference is perhaps evident in whether you are sitting there holding your head in your hands wondering “Did I even know this person?” or “Why did I put up with all that shit, what was I thinking!”

I think I took the classic dating mistake to another level…

I mean, not only did I create a whole new persona (lists are for rookies), but I also designed an exercise where I would be able to communicate with that person (with whom I am NOT ACTUALLY in a relationship, and – I cannot stress this enough – DOES NOT EXIST) using real life relationship titbits from total strangers! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?!

But man, i’m glad I figured that one out. Excuse me while I go date some real people.

Did it really hit me so suddenly, or had I simply been putting up with it over a period of time? Who knows. What I do know, is that today I woke up and realised I had outgrown this space.

I know it’s not normal for a notice to announce emotions on top of needs, but I seek your indulgence while I do so, and promise to announce my needs more specifically after this. I really need to tell you how I feel about this whole space issue before anything else.

***

I acknowledge that my physical body has a home. It is thankful for the roof over its head, pleased with the aircon that keeps it cool on hot days and the duvet that keeps it warm when the aircon gets too much. It’s well-fed, and generally quite content.

But my SOUL is homeless.

The soul with which I create, feel, and express! It cries out for an alternative space. It longs for some version of the lush greenery in which it has had the good fortune to frollic, the type of quiet surroundings that only sometimes hear a car go by… It wants to live in a place where it has the option of not being subjected to things it does not care for, mainly in the form of unwelcome thoughts and beliefs – religious people through loudspeakers, handphone owners with loud voices and the in-call volume turned up too high, car owners desperate to prove that they own an exhaust pipe…

My heart wants to beat like the wings of the birds that rise from the lake to the trees, but my soul isn’t bothered with any of that shit. It just wants enough space to roam free, spend quiet time in, and make love fearlessly. It needs to feel these emotions, in order that it may express, and then CREATE!

***

Nietzsche said “Without art we would be nothing but foreground and live entirely in the spell of that perspective which makes what is closest at hand and most vulgar appear as if it were vast, and reality itself.”

And he’s right.

If I accept my current surroundings despite this morning’s epiphany, I know I will be desperately unhappy. I know I will effectively be crippling my creative processes.

So I need to find a new space. A new home.

Now you see why I needed to tell you all that? It helps put things into perspective, making this a more effective notice. If anything, I feel closer to you now that i’ve told you all that. I hope you feel the same, because if you do, you might be more inclined to help me.

Do you know/have a place that would suit my needs? I can pay rent. Not exorbitant rent, but I can pay rent. I keep a good home and i’m considerate. If you know somebody who can help, or somebody with options to offer, do contact me. Not only would you be doing me a huge favour (i’ll buy you coffee), you would also effectively be SAVING MY SOUL. How cool would that be?

So call me: 012 2034 290

Love,

June

I do lots of things.

This year, I did a lot of corporate writing, worked with UNICEF as a consultant, started a little events company, and taught sex ed to kids living on plantations. I worked with various companies, NGOs and individuals to bring different ideas to fruition, some of which (I sincerely hope) helped make a difference to people in need. Next year, I hope i’ll be doing other things. So when people ask me what I do, I always say i’m a “writer”, because it’s the most honest answer I can give in the shortest time. If you think about it, all the stuff I do requires some writing at some point (from emails, to reports, to articles, to scribbling my name on a contest form hoping to win a free trip to Honolulu etc.)

But this usually invites more questions, such as: “What do you write about?”, “Who do you write for?”, and the inevitable, “Are you a blogger?”.

[By the way, the standard answers to those questions are: 'Nonsense', 'Anyone who will pay me', and 'NO'.]

I think I spent quite a bit of time being bothered by not knowing what defined me, but i’m over it now.

People work their whole lives so that they can have business cards that spell out their role in society. I have known people who got angry with bosses who didn’t provide them with name cards. Maybe it’s a social tool, as i’ve noticed how people give out name cards as if it’s going out of fashion.

Back when I was doing my pupillage in a big corporate law firm, the other pupils would look forward to the end of pupillage because it meant having their own 8′ x 8′ office with their name in gold letters on the door, and name cards that told the world they were doing something important. As you progressed in the firm, you were upgraded to bigger rooms; and when you made partner, you got a room with windows or some sort of view, depending on seniority.

I remember naively asking my boss at the time why people worked hard so that they could be enslaved in a box for the rest of their lives. Working 10 years to get your own parking space and a room with a view just didn’t make sense to me. Unsurprisingly, I didn’t last very long in the corporate world.

Personally, I prefer to look into someone’s eyes, smile, and say “Hello, I’m June” before any exchange of name cards. It’s a warmer way, brings people closer, and makes them want to call you more. It also took a while for me to buy into the whole name-card-for-business idea, but I do have some now. They were designed by the gorgeous Lisa Zainuddin of Oxoloco <— click the link to check ‘em out!

Oliver’s philosophy
When faced with the question “What do you do for a living?” My good friend Oliver used to answer, “I skate, draw, and play for a living. And to make money I do other things.”

Similarly, I laugh, play, and fall in love every day. People will snigger and demand a “serious answer” when I tell them that, but I really don’t feel like I have a JOB because I really enjoy what I do. It doesn’t feel like work when you love what you do and have the freedom to do it from anywhere. I also do different things all the time, so it’s never dull. And as a result of the flexibility, I have more time to spend with friends and family, building strong bonds that money can’t buy. So, took me a while to explain, but that’s what I do, and I love it

I won’t tell you that the world matters nothing, or the world’s voice, or the voice of society. They matter a good deal. They matter far too much. But there are moments when one has to choose between living one’s own life, fully, entirely, completely—or dragging out some false, shallow, degrading existence that the world in its hypocrisy demands. You have that moment now. Choose!
― Oscar Wilde

Freelancers have got it bad

The good companies aside (and i’m glad there are still some), it’s no secret that freelancers get screwed over day after day. Work is expected to be delivered on time, but payment is made whenever the client feels like it, no matter how much paperwork you prepare to compel them to pay you on time. This is especially the case with big corporations with a “finance department”. If you’ve ever had to deal with them, you’ll know what I mean. These are people who have been trained to delay payment for as long as possible. Usually the person you have deal with is a complete idiot who just chucks your invoice into a pile and deals with it as and when he pleases. If you’ve ever found yourself wondering “How could the company hire somebody like this?”, wonder no more because this person has been hired specifically for his incompetence. His complete lack of urgency buys the company time, and helps with cashflow problems. Whenever you encounter a twit like this, you know it’s gonna take a while to get your cheque.

There must be a “Book of Excuses for Douchebag Employers” out there judging by the amount of bullshit they are able to dish out. Passing the buck (to everyone but you), writing the wrong name on the cheque, not answering calls, disappearing altogether… anything just to avoid issuing your cheque. And by the time it’s ready (if you get it at all), chances are you would have been reduced to a decrepit heap living under a bridge, covered in flies, dying of AIDS.

I hate it when other freelancers tell me they actually feel ashamed to ask for their money after asking so many times. Why should anyone be ashamed to ask for money that is due to them? There can be no excuses when you’ve done the work and it’s certainly not idealistic to expect clients to pay up when they owe you money.

Cashflow? That’s your problem, not the employee’s.

If you ask me, there should be a new form of discrimination against bad employers. These are the sort of people who deserve to be dragged behind a horse. Somebody call the KKK. Boss is the new Black.

Meanwhile, in Australia…

You can imagine how angry I was when my sister rang me this morning to tell me that she’d been fired from her job. She went into work and they just told her it “wasn’t working out” and gave her money in an envelope. Shocked, she went home, then later realised that it wasn’t even the full amount that was due to her. When she went back to confront the owner, he had left and they weren’t able to speak to him. They talked to the head of staff but nothing came of that. He had delayed giving her a contract, even though he’s required by law to do so. He was obviously aware of this because he had previously asked for all her details with the intention of giving her a contract, but when she turned up to sign it, gave her some excuses and told her he’d sort it out later.

Why did he do that? Because he’s a douchebag, that’s why.

The more important question you should ask is : what can be done?

As I said, we must think of new forms of discrimination. If you must discriminate, discriminate against the common enemy: The Unscrupulous Employer. Think about it: everybody’s got to work, so this sort of thing is going to affect you sooner or later. By allowing bad bosses to get off scott free, you’re effectively setting yourself up to be screwed over.

So this is a shout out to those of you who are fond of drive-by shootings, looting, grievous bodily harm, and any other forms of violence or discrimination. The next time you feel like going bat crap crazy on gays, blacks, asians, mexicans or dwarves; think about how your acts could better benefit the masses if they were targeted at unscrupulous employers instead.

And now that i’ve got your attention, here’s a really good place to start:

The Naked Turtle Cafe & Bar

Shop 2, Shearwater Resort
Kings Beach QLD
Australia

View Larger Map

Happy Hunting

Does this look like public disorder to you?

There’s been a real kerfuffle over the recent launch of the Obedient Wives’ Club (“OWC”) in KL. OWC principles have been viewed as an insult to women around the world and women’s rights groups are pissed off.

If you think about it, this isn’t really news as women’s rights groups are almost always pissed off. They’ll probably be pissed off with me for saying so (and in that same breath talk about how women have the right to voice their opinions no matter what.)

Women’s rights groups like WAO and SIS think they’re the bees knees in the fight for rights, so when a new player like the OWC steps in and takes a different approach to things, they just get their knickers in a twist and dismiss those methods as demeaning to women, medievel and ultimately ineffective.

Reality check! The contributions made by women’s rights groups these days are at best pathetic when compared to groups championing the causes of men. Men don’t go whining to NGOs when they have grouses to air. They don’t need research papers or case studies. They just rap.

Notable advocates like Ludacris, Lil’ Jon, Usher, P-Diddy and Sisqo (remember him?) communicate what men want in the simplest of terms, reach huge audiences across the globe, have concrete methods to measure their effectiveness (2x Platinum enough for you?), and even win big awards for their contributions! Who can forget such impactful lyrics as:

“Move bitch, get out of the way”

“We want a lady in the street and a freak in the bed”

“Let me see that thong”

“I need a girl (to ride ride ride)”

“Lil Jon and the East side boys wit me and we all like to see ass and tities”

These songs are usually accompanied by a video which works like a public service announcement of sorts depicting an ideal world for men. And judging by the way they’ve been received by the male population, i’d say they’re a good representation of what men are expecting when they say those things.

In addition to alpha males with a lot of bling, hopping around looking badass, driving the flashiest cars, throwing parties at fabulous homes; the videos typically feature tons of women scantily clad in the latest designer trends, looking pretty damn pleased with themselves.

In fact, the messages are so powerful that women all over the world are seen dancing in clubs to these songs, showing their undying support for the cause in the same way straight people turn up at gay pride parades.

So until I see Sisters In Islam at the Grammys, i’d say it’s a bit rich of them to dismiss the OWC’s methods as ‘medieval’ or ‘demeaning to women’.

That said, it’s such a shame that the OWC got the theory down pat, but the practical all wrong.

Despite all the bad press, I had been rooting for the OWC until I saw the video of their club launch. To my shock and horror, instead of “Sensual Seduction”, the whole scene was more like “The Sound of Music”. There weren’t any bikini-clad females lying around or pole dancing to a laser lights display. None of the couples were making out or rubbing up against each other provocatively. Nobody was doing coke in the toilets. No fancy cars, no bull riding, and at one point, they even had little kids line dancing with the ladies on stage!

That’s no way to be obedient! Surely that goes directly against what men want!

There was this woman being interviewed who was going on about the thousand and one sexual positions she was going to teach her club members, and to tell you the truth, she could have been talking about salad spinners for all the impact it had on her audience.

How disappointing. If you ask me, until the Obedient Wives’ Club decides to have happy hour all day long, it’s not going to have much of an impact on the stats. In the absence of good leadership, women ought to wise up and take action independently. Get some plastic surgery, accept the fact that hips do not lie, and buy a thong or two. Otherwise, men will continue to visit prostitutes, and God will get mad at us.