In college I had a neighbor who became a friend who had a father that tied weights to his penis. I mean, the father tied weights to his own penis, not to his son's, which does not make the story any less woah but might help clarify the picture in your head right about now. He was Chinese, the neighbor/friend and his father, and although I am not 100% sure that has any bearing on the story it is somehow tied together in my memory. Like maybe it had something to do with his religion, or maybe I am just a horrible ethnocentric stupid-head and he tied weights to his penis because he was a man and it was there.
I think he also whipped himself. Not that I ever saw it, but the neighbor/friend told us that the father self-flagellated. That phrase, connected to the mental image of his penis, made me think of something kinky but no, apparently he did these things to make himself stronger. (The word flogging is not much better.)
Where am I going with this talk of flesh weighted down? Of strength and piety, penance and penises?
Here. I am apologizing for being a bad blogger, both with infrequent slapdash posts and radio silence to fellow bloggers, friends and the like. I have been busy, overwhelmed, blah blah, clothed in excuses as if I am the only person that has ever needed to put gas in her car. Driving on empty, so I am naked now with barbells hanging from my balls to say I am sorry. And that it will probably happen again.
But that's what friends do, right? Forgive you your sometimes silence? And then pick up where you last left off? Grab your hand and spin you around? Dance?
You know how I love me the universe coming together. Check out this (admittedly shaky but oh-so-worth it) video. The song, the people, the lump in my throat from watching a bunch of probably BO-ey hippie kids dancing in the grass.