Sexpresso, Part 2

Months ago, I discussed the popularity of bikini-clad baristas at Puget Sound latte stands. I had stated that this kind of coffee service makes me uncomfortable. The same way being at a strip club makes me uncomfortable. Well, that was before I learned what was happening at Grab n' Go Espresso in Everett. Apparently, baristas at this coffee stand allow men to touch their bare breasts and asses, for a minimal fee...which is why five women were charged with prostitution last week.

Yes, just in case you were wondering, it does a constitute a sex act if you pay someone $20 to expose herself. Even if she's in the act of preparing a mochachino with extra foam. But let's not get bogged down in the legal aspects of this kind of entertainment. Should these ladies be criticized for being creative in their means of presentation? When baristas are licking whip cream off of each other, they're just convincing customers of the tastiness of whip cream and its multiple uses. When they offer to play "basketball" (allowing men to throw wadded-up money into their underpants), how is this any different than a carnival game at a state fair? And honestly, shouldn't the Everett Police be more concerned about the kind of prostitution that involves sexual intercourse? The officers probably figured this would be easier and more fun to investigate than going after the pimps.
"Okay, one more whip cream show just to make sure what they're doing is wrong. We just need a little more evidence."

According to KOMO News' Michelle Esteban, customers could order a "special show with their cup of joe" if they specified a "20 oz. latte." This seems like a stupid codeword to me. What if I really wanted a 20 oz. latte and nothing else? Or am I supposed to wink twice at the end of my order, so they know what I'm talking about?

I appreciate the comment left by a reader on the Everett Herald website: "Difficult to make a decision regarding this story: I believe that barista pictures would help the reader's understanding immensely."
Hopefully the above photo will help all of you make an informed decision. I vote YES.

Trash Talking Your Illness

Whenever you get sick, it's easy to get down on yourself. You feel like you're being held hostage by a virus, and you have to wait until the police (i.e. antibiotics) negotiate a safe release. You're helpless to do anything but sit motionless in bed. You might be inclined to try prayer. Or watch your favorite movie in an attempt to ignore the pain and discomfort.

Chin up, sport. You don't have to be so complacent. Tell the cold, the flu, the sore throat, or bronchitis how you really feel. If you just lay there pitying yourself, the virus will think it has won the game, and it will run up the score. Here's a guide to approaching your enemy and retaking your health. Body and mind go together, as well as yo mouf!

1. Question its intensity.
"How many people you kill? I ain't gonna say how many I killed. Don't wanna embarrass ya. You sure you related to the swine flu? Cuz what you're bringing is weak. I mean, your game is pathetic."
2. Remind it of your perfect record.
"Every season, you know who comes out on top? This guy. How many rings you got? I'm undefeated and I'm just getting started!"
3. Talk about endurance.
"You've got to outlast me, son. But you ain't got the stamina! Pack yo bags. Train's leavin.' Get home to yer wife. Dinner's gettin' cold."
4. Point out the scoreboard repeatedly.
"You do realize I'm winning, right?"
5. Emphasize how its play is one-dimensional and downright flawed.
"I'm coming at you from all angles, kid! Hydration - BAM! Nutritious diet - BAM! Loads of sleep - BAM! Theraflu - BAM! All you know are two approaches: throat phlegm and night sweats. I got lozenges and Advil for that! I know how to defend that shit!"
6. Be real.
"I didn't get in to this game to make friends. I came to bring the pain and get paid. You're just another chump standing in the way. Step off before I break somefin' off!"
7. Speculate on the nature of things.
"The way I see it: I get back to 100% and I'm making six, seven figures a year. You know, makin' a name for myself. In the meantime, you're still hopping from person to person, leeching off anyone you can find. No retirement plan, no stock portfolio, no Benzos. Nothing to speak of! Now that's a sad excuse for a life, man."

Advice For Lovers

I am feeling a tiny bit sick this evening. Too much fun on a Friday night right at the beginning of flu season will do that to you. I'm trying to stay hydrated and fed, but my mental energy is zapped. So for today's posting, I'm mailing it in. I'm going with some old material.

Below is a list I gave to my soon-to-be-married cousin for her bridal shower. In a few weeks, I will be joining her and my family in Italy for the marriage ceremony (the Camel leads a tough life, I know). These pieces of advice were not meant to enlighten her or impart wisdom. Asking me for relationship advice is like asking a kitten how to replace a timing belt.
I'm still not sure how this whole partnership thing works. For what it's worth, here are my helpful pointers:

1. Listen attentively to your spouse.
2. Take a lesson from our nation’s two-party system. Filibusters don’t get you anywhere. Compromises get you Medicare and national parks.
3. Take turns making meals.
4. Take cues from your spirit animal. If you’re a dolphin, swim around difficulty. If you’re a rabbit, hop over adversity. If you’re a large smelly walrus, you might want to rethink your choice of spirit animal.
5. Birthdays and anniversaries are obviously important dates to remember. But it’s fun to celebrate unexpectedly, too. So when you’ve prepared a fun evening for your partner and s/he asks you “What’s the occasion?” you just say, “Because this date marks the end of the Franco-Prussian War and because I love you” (nobody knows the exact date, not even Kaiser Wilhelm knew for sure).
6. Never use sports analogies when discussing your relationship, and don’t take steroids.
7. There are certain qualities about your mate that you will always admire and cherish. All other things are subject to change. Be understanding of these changes.
8. Notes, letters and cards are still nice to give and receive, even when you live together.
9. Shouldn’t have to tell you this, but travel every so often. Three-day weekends are rad.
10. A simple yet profound saying from “The Care Bears” cartoon: Sharing is caring.

Next Stop, Sillyville Station!!!

One of the disparities I noticed at the Puyallup Fair yesterday was the amount of cages devoted to pigeons compared to those with bunnies. I mean, there were a lot of pigeons. I'm talking about a full barn of birds that don't differ too much in size or shape or personality. Not as cute as the ducks or as interesting as the turkeys - which is why pigeons are usually ignored. They are perceived as unsanitary street birds who live off the leftover crumbs of city dwellers, and they're maybe only a notch above crows, in terms of respect. According to the dictionary, "pigeon" is actually slang for (a) a young woman, or (b) a person who is easily fooled or cheated. Well, in this case, the pigeons have apparently tricked people into displaying them in large numbers. It's not a surprise that this barn was almost empty, except for a group of people clamoring around a incubator of baby chicks.

Nonetheless, the pigeon barn provided a quiet rest stop from the other activities on the fairgrounds. Shouts and screams accompanied the grinding of roller coaster wheels. Yelps of excitement came from the mouths of souvenir-crazed, face-painted boys and girls. A creepy guttural voice emanated the High Striker booth, where a microphone-wearing carnival worker implored people to slap a hefty hammer onto a metal block.

I am just outside Sillyville, where amusement rides and rigged carnival games mingle with inflatable unicorns and fried food. There are a few language barriers to overcome. A corn dog, for example, is called a "krusty pup." The man who handed me two balls to throw at metal milk bottles is toothless. I can't understand what he is saying. But I know that I lost. My first pitch knocks the top bottle from its perch. My second pitch sails high - wap! - into the plastic drape. I do not win a stuffed animal imported from China and I feel swindled. I should have tried the Hoop Shot instead (and maybe I would have ended up with a framed High School Musical poster).

Besides the roller coaster ride, the animals are the stars here. The pygmy goats are admirable because they're small. Their chests hang low to the ground like daschunds and they occasionally bleat, to tell you that one or more of their four stomachs could use nourishment. They're not picky. Just let them eat something. Now.

The piglets laying in the hay next to their massive mother are fast asleep, and nothing will wake them up. They couldn't possibly be the reason behind swine flu. They're much too lazy.

The highland cattle have amazing bangs and facial hair (pictured). They are the hipsters of cows. They shun black and white Holstein fashion and they let their hair grow out. Yeah, they're dairy cows, but don't tell anybody. A few of them have worked at record stores and met members of The Clash. They would like to travel to Eastern Europe.

And then there's the "Doggies of the Wild West" show. I just caught the last few minutes, but it featured a tiny dog climbing a ladder. With a helmet on. You tell me that's not's entertainment.

Let's Peruse The Periodicals

Tomorrow I'm going to the Puyallup Fair, otherwise known as "The Big Fantastic."
Barnyard animals, the Tilt-a-Whirl, mutton bustin' and Fisher Scones are some of the highlights of this 2-week-long event. Being a ridiculously nerdy person with a library science degree, rather than tell you what the other attractions are, I will give you a list of periodicals that describe the plethora of activities and sights. These are, in fact, magazines in print:

• Rug Hooking Magazine
• Creating Keepsakes Magazine (scrapbooking)
  
• The Draft Horse Journal
• Rubber Stamp Madness
• Illusion: The Magazine For Today's Face and Body Artist
• Holstein World
• Juggle Magazine
• Wood Carving Illustrated
• Amusement Today
• Dessert Professional Magazine
  

I'm mostly disappointed there's not a magazine about scrimshaw. And that there doesn't seem to be even a quarterly periodical for circus or rodeo clowns. But I was impressed to find Circopedia, the free encyclopedia of the international circus. You can learn all about clown college on that site.

Sufficient Warning

We've all read the sides of beer cans.
"Consumption of alcoholic beverages impairs your ability to drive a car or operate machinery." It doesn't specify what kind of machinery, or say, the difference between using a blender to make a margarita and driving a forklift into oncoming traffic. But I think we can all agree with the general statement.

A few days ago, I was watching film previews on a DVD and I got a different sort of warning. During an advertisement for the movie "State of Play," there was a message that read: This film contains depictions of tobacco consumption.

Okay. Thank you for pointing that out. I was getting really excited about watching Russell Crowe's latest political thriller, but now...NOW I will abstain. Because the sight of someone smoking causes me to have seizures that are untreatable with modern medicine. The actual act of a person using a Zippo causes instant vertigo. This was so helpful of you, film industry. You just saved me from unspeakable pain and outrage.

Another warning I discovered recently was on the back of my Speed Stick Gel deodorant. It caused me a bit of concern. On the same sticker that promotes it uses as (1) reduces underarm wetness and (2) extra effective, it reads: Ask a doctor before you use if you have kidney disease.

What would happen if I did have kidney disease? Would my armpits melt? Or would my kidneys take unkindly to the Aqua Sport fragance? Regardless, if I have sick kidneys, I would be robbed of a deodorant that is extra effective. I would smell like rubbish. People wouldn't sit next to me on the bus.
That's why I've made the choice to never have kidney disease. Or never acknowledge it. I want to be smelling great until the day I die.

If you do have kidney disease, you should avoid tripropylene glycol. Propylene glycol by itself isn't bad. But once it's been tripled, watch out!

My First Baseball Playoff Game

I know what you're saying.
"But Jamie, the baseball playoffs don't start until October."
Well, obviously you've never been to a Triple-A playoff game.

Tonight, I attended a Tacoma Rainiers playoff game (vs. the Sacramento Rivercats) with my friend Holly. The atmosphere was not exactly electric. The parking lot outside Cheney Stadium was mostly empty, and there were only about 25 fans in the general admission bleachers (usually the most enthusiastic and inebriated section). I guess a Wednesday night does not draw many fans, even if it is Game 1 of a 5-game playoff series.

The night got off to a promising start. Rhubarb, the Mariner Moose look-alike mascot, came up behind me and gave me a back massage. And then he gave me a kiss. Which included a "lip-smack" sound effect. Like mimes, I thought mascots weren't supposed to make sounds. I was wrong.

The game quickly got ugly when the Evil Empire scored 3 runs in the top of the 1st inning. I call them the Evil Empire because they've won the last two Triple-A championships (so I suppose they resemble the Yankees of the late 90s; disregard the fact that Sacramento is an Oakland A's franchise). The Rivercats added two more in the 2nd inning. Fortunately, the disappointing beginning was interuppted by the Fun Squad's dance performance of the song "Thriller." Rhubarb was wearing a red leather jacket, while his dance companions were clothed in ripped zombie shirts. The choreography was amazing. I can't really describe it. Maybe something like this.

Every time Rivercats outfield Chris Denorfia walked up to bat, some heckler would yell:

"Hey, Number 16! Get a real job!"

Yet it was unclear what constituted a proper occupation. Or why 29 year-old Chris Denorfia of Bristol, Connecticut, deserved this taunt more than other players...and if the heckler actually held a decent job.

One of the highlights of the night was receiving a souvenir from the Fun Squad (the Fun Squad consists of high school girls with elite cheering skills and expert swag distribution skills). During one of the inning breaks, the announcer shouted, "Hey Rainiers fans, who wants a softy ball?" I wasn't really sure what a softy ball was. But after two cups of Mirror Pond beer, I was thinking, "Yes, I want a softy ball. Throw it the fuck over here." Two elderly people were leaving early from the game and just as a Fun Squad girl was throwing it toward me, they got in my way. I almost lost my shit. But the older couple did the right thing and they gave me the softy ball. They told me to give it to the "little ones" if I had any "little ones." I was like, "No, I don't have any children, but hand it over, Gramps."

$6 tickets. $6 beers. Free softy ball (pictured above). You can't beat Tacoma Rainiers baseball.

This Photo Has Nothing To Do With My Ramblings

I was just looking for a reason to post this picture. It's the smallest woman perched on the lap of the richest man...back in 1933.
Circus dwarf Lya Graf is seated on J.P. Morgan (during a Senate Committee hearing on the stock market crash of 1929).

Well, I suppose you could connect it to the fact that I'm not the world's richest man. In fact, I'm about to lose my temporary position at the public library, and I'm anticipating a lighter wallet. Which means I need to find another J-O-B, and cut some of my spending.

I've dreamed up a few ideas for limiting expenditures:

• Only drink really cheap beer (exclusively Miller High Life, Fall Series - camoflauge can)
• Get rid of Comcast cable internet and use the neighborhood park's free wi-fi (rain or shine)
• Buy food at dollar stores
• Lights and appliances off at 9 pm every night
• Kraft Singles (no more mizithra)
  
• Make a fake bus pass
• Sublet my kitchen
• Stick to "Fun Size" candy, not "King Size"
  

Ideas for creating cash flow are as follows:

• Gamble on sports
• Plasma donation
  
• Take coins from fountains
• Create some sort of pyramid scheme
• Marry a circus dwarf

If you have any further suggestions, please leave a comment. Of course, I already use the library instead of Netflix.