There was a birthday dinner party. Which sort of went on after dinner, and then on way after bedtime, and then wound up going on until most of us passed out.

Some things were said, during, and after:

“These aren’t my clothes. Whose clothes am I wearing? Where are MY clothes?”

“We all agree you were the cutest drunk ever”

“Get the tequila! No glasses, we’re passin’ the jug.”

“You wanted to come home with us. You even asked permission.”

“Was I mean to you last night? I have to have been mean to someone.”

“That was very sweet of you. Also kind of opportunistic.”

“Take these back to the store, and tell then ‘We had five of us in the bed last night trying these and they didn’t get anyone off'”

“I’ve never been this hung over at someone else’s house before.”

“Whose idea was it to drink tequila?”

“Dad, there are two people asleep in the living room, and I can’t find the remote control.”

“Did you wash my hair?” “Yeah, and I also shaved you.”

“Damn, I forgot to take my birth control pills.”

“When did you get here?” “After you got drunk, but before you passed out.”

“I don’t remember any of it.”

Really, despite some spectacular hangovers, it was a very good party.

From Wired:

Internet pornography is the new crack cocaine, leading to addiction, misogyny, pedophilia, boob jobs and erectile dysfunction, according to clinicians and researchers testifying before a Senate committee Thursday.

Here’s a Link to the whole ugly thing.

Sweet Jumping Jesus on a Pogo Stick, what’s wrong with these people?

Some of the nicest people I know are pornographers. The internet was built on porn money. Porn’s as fundamental to being human as art is.

Hell, if monkeys could paint, they’d have porn too.

Oh god. How about this one?

Judith Reisman of the California Protective Parents Association suggested that more study of “erototoxins” could show how pornography is not speech-protected under the First Amendment.

Erototoxins? What The Fuck.

These people need to die. Quickyly and painfully. And repeatedly, if that were possible.

Erototoxins. Hell, that actually sounds like a punk band, doesn’t it?

You have gorg’d me with the dearest morsel of the earth!

Quickly, my love! These bonds excite me to a fever’s pitch but I fear me that the Lady will soon be wanting her petticoats back!

Strike me sharply Emil, afore I think you effeminate!

Ah, let your fingers play and twine in the young tendrils of silky down that cover’d the very seat of my womanhood!

Damn, that’s pretty funny.

It’s the Victorian Sex Cry Generator.

(Thanks to Aphrodite at ErosBlog for the find. I love those folks at ErosBlog)

I wanna go to this, “A free-for-all discussion on the role of blogs and politics featuring Wonkette’s Ana Marie Cox, which is being held at a bar, Porter’s Dining Saloon. Alas, said bar is in Washington DC, and I’m here in the very left edge (physically and politically) of the country.

But I have to admit. I want to go because I want to 1) drink with Wonkette, 2) hit on Wonkette, and 3) take Wonkette her back to my hotel room and fuck her brains out.

I’m trying to decide if this happened before or after it was discovered that Wonkette and Elastigirl where Separated at birth.