Her Fascinating Thighs

Saw title. Rushed over. Massive disappointment.

Why is she acting like a stereotyped sassy black woman?

It did expose me to the EF site, with this compelling headline: “4 Ways White People Can Process Their Emotions Without Bringing the White Tears.”

My thighs say, “Feminism, bitch!”
Will these people *ever* get over themselves?

I am obviously unqualified to comment on feminist poetry, so I consulted a person of gender, the eminent cultural critic ‘Nan’ Taylor.

I think the major themes of feminist rhetoric might actually be three: “I’m so fat”, “let’s talk about my vagina”, and “people should love me for who I am(I should be able to *make* them)”. I’m unaware of how much #3 creeps into the poetry, however, because I’ve been studiously avoiding it.

I don’t think people who are really okay with having big thighs spend so much time *telling* everyone they’re okay with it.
Well, quite.

Randall Monroe went Full Retard during the election
Indeed. I stopped following him after that. I wish he’d have just STFU about politics.

I look forward to your third installment in the Feminist Poetry series, now that you’ve shared these thoughtful vagina and thigh meditations.
There must be some feminist “ass” poetry out there, somewhere, and I’m sure it’s equally brilliant.

“I’m so fat”, “let’s talk about my vagina”, and “people should love me for who I am (I should be able to *make* them)”
Somewhere under the self-indulgent word pile, there are the same old grumbles and resentments. Among which, a dislike of the fact that human pairing is generally a competitive business, that agreeable features and proportions turn heads more often, and that the features and proportions most in demand aren’t equally distributed. Ditto agreeable personalities. Well, such is life. Not “patriarchy,” mind you, or “society’s beauty standards,” but life. The attempt to apply assumptions of societal fairness to the issue of desirability is, as we’ve seen, pointless and absurd. And in terms of turning heads, even the most physically attractive of us would in later years struggle to compete with their earlier, prettier selves.
Except, perhaps, for the actress Gillian Anderson, who seems to be getting more handsome with age. I suspect witchcraft.

Three minutes of this young miss trying to convince herself and everyone else she really doesn’t have massive insecurity about the way she looks.

A poet who reads his verse in public may have other nasty habits.
—Robert Heinlein

Most notable, of course, for the X-Files,
Over the years I think there’s been a pleasing elongation. Doubtless assisted by good lighting and some expensive tailoring.

Doubtless assisted by good lighting and some expensive tailoring.
And the alien gene therapy, of course.

Thanks, but I’m not going to click on that little red triangle.
[ Flaps elbows, does chicken noise. ]

David, Gillian you say? As an academic e she is topless stripper in one of her early movies. Her slumped shoulders and saggy bewbs in that Netflix series were disappointing. For me her community says were her peak.

My bad was thinking of Gillian Jacobs .

So fat-shaming, for instance, is bad, but sexual-preference-shaming is not only good but a “social justice” imperative?
Xe obviously believes that sexual attraction is merely a matter of choice. Don’t leftists give Evangelical Christians a hard time for believing the same thing re: homosexuality?

You know, it’s sad. The “poetry” is a joke, but her emotions are real. My heart aches for her pain, but it is invalid pain. Unrighteous and foolish. It is pain that comes from believing lies. Lies that have made her afraid of phantoms and boogeymen and lies that have filled her heart with hate. Lies that have put a log in her eye so large that she can’t bear its weight, let alone remove it.
The devil is called the “prince of lies” with good reason.

Another thigh slam poem
I exercise
My sexy thighs
My flexy thighs
Not for your eyes
– My exes thighs
His peaks and sighs
His sexy pies
His squeaks and cries,
These I despise
Not for these my Mexy-thighs
I monetise
My super thighs
Not for your lies
Not for your eyes
My flexy thighs
My sexy thighs
Okay that’s 16 lines vote for me please.

Deep.

Its not that difficult in our society to groom oneself, to exercise, to dress tastefully (in any price range) and to learn basic manners. It also helps if you smile and are cheerful. If you do these things you will be attractive no matter your figure or your face.
Most people will never be supermodels but most people can achieve basic self respect. I think its amazing that these things are not self-evident to these young ladies, but then I was raised by a southern belle who dressed up to go the post office.
I will now report to the re-education camp for horribly old fashioned gender traitors.

Hose? At least it’s not a water cannon.

I’m sure her friends think very thighly of her.

Farnsworth,
Not to change the topic or anything (cuz this one’s so delightful) but that looks like an…extremely interesting way to fly a 747.
Full flaps, angle of attack around 14 degrees (hard to tell), losing weight rapidly from god knows where with respect to the CG, maybe 20 knots over stall speed, altitude a few grand…
Oh boy. Sign me right up.

Oh, by the way, during the “Blue Cut Fire” here recently, it was operating well below 1,000′.

I heard once that a 747 can do a barrel roll, but it’s not exactly advisable….

You can sideslip a 767 like a glider in an emergency, so why not barrel roll a 747?
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Bct1mWUp8to
Caution, only been tried once, only been done once. Otherwise impossible.

. . . test pilot Tex Johnson.
Right,

…extremely interesting way to fly a 747…
Yeah, and though it evidently has much more capability, it will never be a cool as the Martin Mars.

Weird – link didn’t work – Martin Mars.
Also here.

Thigh Me To The Moon

Thigh can’t get no satisfaction

If the sand spreader truck had crashed first we might not have this great video. I used to work just uphill from this ice-olated incident.

Thigh loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
Thigh loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
Thigh loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah
You think you’ve lost your thigh
Well, I saw it yesterday
It’s you thigh’s thinking of
And thigh told me what to say-ee-aa
Thigh says she loves you
And you know that can’t be bad…

Oh my … maybe we should send some compassionate poetry to this poor woman.

I’ve lost the desire to attempt the courtship phase. The future is uncertain. I am not the optimistic person I was on the morning of Nov. 8, wearing a T-shirt with “Nasty Woman” written inside a red heart. It makes me want to cry thinking of that. Of seeing my oldest in the shirt I bought her in Washington, D.C., that says “Future President.”
There is no room for dating in this place of grief. Dating means hope. I’ve lost that hope in seeing the words “President-elect Trump.”

But thigh eternal beauty shall not fade….

[ Rummages in drawer for nunchucks. ]

[ Hands David the Taser ]

She’s got Betty Davis thighs…

Bright thighs, burning like fire.
When you look me in the thighs
And tell me that you love me
Everything’s alright.
And your thighs, your thighs, your thighs,
Tell me how much you care.

She’s got Betty Davis thighs…
Probably not…

You can’t hide your lying thighs…
Don’t it make your brown thighs blue…
Your thighs are the thighs of a woman in love … and oh! how they give you away… (as sung by Thigh Masterson)

Come thigh with me, come thigh let’s thigh away…

An early Nineties mixtape.
For such occasions I’ve recommended a random play of several CDs of John Denver and Riders In The Sky.

Layla, you’ve got me on my knees
Layla, I’m beggin’, darlin’, please
Layla, darlin’ won’t you ease my worried thigh. Ooooh.

Leave your cares behind
Come with us and find
The pleasures of a journey to the center of the thighs
Come along if you care
Come along if you dare
Take a ride to the land inside of your thighs
Beyond the queef of thought
Beyond the realm of box
Between the limbs of pubes and quims where things are really not
Come along if you care
Come along if you dare
Take a ride to the land inside of your thighs
But please realise
You’ll probably be surprised
For it’s the land unknown to man
Where fantasy is fact
So if you can, please understand
You might not come back…
I’m actually surprised how easy it is to twist this one.

@Boatswain’s Mate: Oh, quite. Making a song by the author of “Wang Dang Sweet Poontang” and a number of *very* salty lyrics in “Cat Scratch Fever” more about anatomy than it was originally seems almost more of a return to form.

And I just remembered, in the spirit of this thread, the first song on Ted’s 1995 album Spirit of the Wild was called “Thighraceous.”
Oh, Uncle Ted. How you do amuse.

So much hidden meaning (not).
Indeed. Not a man to reserve his observations for sake of politeness, our Ted. See also “suck on my machine guns, ya punk!” o_O
Oh, Uncle Ted. How you do amuse.
I have to think after one has actually named an album “Love Grenade”, one has to weep because of no more worlds to conquer.