This week’s TMI Tuesday was the idea of http://virtualsin.wordpress.com/

Jack’s Answers

Special dishes? I’m sure we have a set of wedding china, but I haven’t seen it in years. We don’t have room in our current house for anything beyond everyday dishes, which we use for everyday dining as well as dinner parties and special occasions.

Not really. I don’t think my wardrobe is extensive enough for that. When I feel like wearing a pair of jeans, I wear a pair of jeans without thinking too hard about which one is best for the situation. Even my geeky T-shirts get worn on a regular basis; I don’t wait until Comic-Con to wear a T-shirt with some kind of pop culture image or message. The only thing that comes close to appropriate-occasion wear, in my mind, are a couple pairs of boxers that are so comfortable that I usually only wear them on Fridays or weekends; they are my reward, if you will, for making it through another hellacious week. Yes, I realize that this is ridiculous and Jill laughed quite unabashedly when I told her this. Whatever.

I would probably employ a live-in housekeeper or maid who would have his or her own separate residence. As I would insist on having a large piece of land, I would also employ a groundskeeping staff as neither Jill nor I particularly enjoy gardening. The idea of a cook is appealing, although we both enjoy cooking and would probably not require such an employee on a regular basis. I could see having an individual on call, for those evenings when we prefer not to cook. I’m sure that before long the convenience would be too great and we would just hire him or her full-time. Even if we chose to do most of our own cooking, hiring someone to do all of our grocery shopping would be essential; such an employee is something we frequently wish we had, as while we enjoy grocery shopping, we hate the crowds, and we frequently find the process of actually leaving the house to buy groceries – or stopping on the way home after a long work day – inconvenient. And how about a bartender and a sommelier? Perhaps these are not needed with the urgency of a housekeeper or landscaper, but they would certainly come in handy during dinner parties and such. I would probably want a personal trainer to offset all the damage I would be doing to my body thanks to having an on-call (or live-in) cook. I currently see no need for a valet or other personal assistant, although the idea of a lady-in-waiting is appealing. Obviously she would be less of an assistant to Jill and more of an *ahem* assistant to me.

I described my ideal house in last week’s Sunday Stealing. This would make a great primary residence. When I was younger, my family had a vacation home on a lake, which made a wonderful summer getaway, as well as a fun retreat for weekends and holidays. Thus I’d like to have a couple homes that would serve a similar purpose. One would be in Dublin, Ireland, ideally within walking distance of Temple Bar. Stateside, I would love to own homes in Key West, Florida (the city has a rich cultural and literary significance) and Boston, Massachusetts (one of my favorite U.S. cities that is not San Francisco). I think it would also be a good idea to have a luxurious apartment in San Francisco just in case a Friday night in the City turns into an entire weekend in the City.

I would go with either (b) buy a yacht or (c) buy a small winery. In fact, depending on how wealthy I am, I might do both. I am not sufficiently interested in flying to buy a plane; I’ll leave that to the professionals as my newfound wealth would enable me to fly commercially (or in a private plane that I wouldn’t actually have to fly, I suppose). I don’t particularly wish to raise exotic animals as with my luck I’ll mix up their food or their medications or somehow screw up the climate in their habitats and the next thing you know they’re all dead, it’s a media circus, and I’ve got animal rights groups calling for my incarceration or death. On the other hand, yachting has always appealed to me as I love boats, and for that matter I love wine. I’d love to own a winery even if only for our own consumption purposes. I’d love to drink our wine on our yacht, preferably with a variety of open-minded and underdressed friends on a sunny summer afternoon.

If I had an unlimited budget I would like to build a collection of extremely expensive classic cars. The first on my list would be a black 1989 Lamborghini Countach, which I’ve fancied for more than twenty years. However, most of the cars in this collection would be for show, and I would drive them only on occasion, i.e. to car shows. My family and I would require at least two more practical cars as well; I like the idea of owning an expensive hybrid or electric car, preferably something akin to an SUV, one able to carry a growing family and the amount of crap that we find we need to bring with us. (No, I will never drive a mini-van.) I don’t actually require anything fancy or extravagant; even the classic car collection is negotiable. I just require that whatever vehicle(s) I own be reliable. Then again, I expect that my estate will be such that, should we somehow find ourselves without working vehicles, there will be plenty to keep us occupied on the premises.

There really isn’t anything that comes to mind. I don’t allow myself much decadence these days; I’m a parent and really can’t – or more accurately don’t – spoil myself anymore. Well, that’s not entirely true. Top shelf whisky and other spirits, as well as delicious high-quality food are two things in which I regularly indulge.

Jill’s Answers

Our set of special occasion dishes is my grandmother’s wedding china. We inherited it after she passed away, and although we’ve only used it a couple times, we displayed it proudly in one of our china hutches in the last house we lived in. When we moved into our current, smaller house we had to get rid of the hutch. Now it’s boxed up, and has been for more than a year. I am honored to have it, and I hope to be able to display it, and possibly actually use it, when we have a little more room.

I don’t have any clothing that I’m saving to wear to some eventual special occasion. I’ve got many articles of clothing that I wear occasionally to events such as weddings.

I would definitely have a housekeeper to keep the house clean and do the laundry. I’d love to have a personal assistant for grocery shopping and other errand-running. I’d love to have a cook every once in awhile as well. Sometimes neither Jack nor I feel like cooking and it would be great not to have to eat out. I don’t like to garden, so I think I would hire a crew of hot landscapers. And since our house would have to have a pool, I would also need a hot pool boy as well. During the summer months I would lie on a chaise lounge, watching my sexy young employee skimming our pool without a shirt. And when he was finished with his work I’d untie my bathing suit and beckon him over to me. Sorry, what were we talking about?

We would own a house in our current city, though it would be much bigger than the house we live in now. I’d also like to have a house close to Jack’s parents, so that we could take our usual weekend trips to see them, but wouldn’t actually have to stay with them. Besides these two houses, I would love to own a home in Ireland, possibly in Dublin, Cork, or both. I think another house somewhere tropical, either Hawaii or the Caribbean, would be nice as well.

I would go with (a), buy an airplane. I would love to be able to travel to our various houses without having to fly commercially. But I’d need a pilot because I am not interested in learning to fly. When I’m on a plane I would prefer to relax.

I think that a hybrid would be the way to go. I hate having to put gas in my car, so whatever option gets us the best gas mileage and prevents me from having to constantly fill my tank is the one I would choose. Then again I’m sure I could send my personal assistant to get gas for me. I also think it would be fun to have a chauffeured limousine. Who wouldn’t want to be driven on their errands? And a 1965 Mustang convertible in fire engine red is my absolute dream car.

The only real luxury I afford myself these days is getting my hair done. It costs me about $160 to get my hair colored and cut. I don’t do it very often, but it’s such an exciting, even erotic, thing for me to have my hair manipulated by someone who knows how to do it properly.

I noticed today that my Twitter feed contained multiple references to a “scary” woman in an ad for online dating service Ashley Madison. For those unfamiliar, Ashley Madison is the internet’s premiere dating website designed for people who are already married or in relationships. Unlike sites such as Adult FriendFinder, which are often visited by couples, the purpose of Ashley Madison is facilitating illicit affairs. Hey, whatever. I don’t judge people for the (legal) things they do to get off anymore than I do corporations for their right to make a buck off of people’s insecurity and discontentment. After seeing repeated mention of said scary model, I decided to click the link and see what was so frightening. Like most rational human beings, I expected to see someone who was, well, scary. A wide-eyed, batshit crazy shrew, for instance.

Having not seen the ad in question, I was surprised and dismayed to learn that Ashley Madison defines “scary” much differently than I do. I’m not one to be blindly P.C. or to look out for the delicate sensibilities of any fringe group, especially one to which I don’t belong. But this is fucked up. I understand that society has an arbitrary and unrealistic standard of beauty and that most facets of society serve to maintain the status quo while at the same time benefitting from said maintenance. It’s a “you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” situation, and while I don’t like it, I understand it. However, I refuse on principle to patronize a company that expresses its prejudices in so blatant a fashion. That’s why, in the unlikely event that I find myself so dissatisfied by my marriage and my sex life that I decide to have an affair, I’ll just bang one of my female friends rather than joining Ashley Madison.

What did the model herself have to say about the fact that her body type is apparently considered scary? I’ll let her tell you.

My name is Jacqueline and I am the model seen on the Ashley Madison ad that was recently published in the New York Metro newspaper.

I am the owner and model of the BBW website www.juicyjackie.com. It is tailored to the tastes of those that love big women, their curves, rolls and all the plush softness that comes with being fat.

Years ago, before my modeling career began in earnest, a photographer friend of mine arranged an informal photo session. I was under the impression at the time that people purchasing these photos from the photographer would be doing so for their own personal use. I had no idea that the photographer would endeavor to sell the photos to corporations and/or stock photo companies, who would then go on, repeatedly, to use them in rude and mocking ways.

I am mortified that my image and likeness would be used as advertisement for two things I am so vehemently against: namely cheating and, to an even greater extent, body shaming.

I find the very idea that there exists a business based solely around the facilitation of infidelity appalling. The fact that they are now suggesting that a person’s partner not fitting their ideal body size/shape, entitles that person to ‘shop around’ is disgusting.

There is an enormous problem in this world in regards to female body shaming, and not solely in regard to fat women, but all women. A size 2 woman who sees this ad sees the message: “If I don’t stay small, he will cheat”. A size 12 woman might see this ad and think “if I don’t lose 30lbs, he will cheat”. A size 32 woman could see this ad, and feel “I will never find love”. It’s horrific. Not all women are necessarily insecure, but it’s no secret that body insecurity is endemic, regardless of size. This kind of message is extremely damaging to self worth. Eating disorders may have lost their place in the media spotlight, but continue to effect people of all ages, especially teens. This sort of behavior can easily be triggered from the careless cruelty of advertisements like the one in question.

As has been widely reported, teens are committing suicide in shocking numbers all over the world as direct result of this sort of shaming ridicule. Be it directed at race, size, sexual orientation or anything, bullying is a vicious force in this world. Contributing to this widespread and creeping depression by suggesting, blatantly and without pretense, that fat people are patently undeserving of love and loyalty is repulsive. It is incumbent upon advertisers, and society at large, to act responsibly before foisting something like this onto the world.

It’s bad enough that a business exists that encourages and profits from cheaters, but, worse still, that they have the gall to blame a woman’s body on the act, rather than the man who is incapable of commitment and loyalty. It exists in the same school of thought in which a rapist blames a woman’s outfit for his crime.

I am a size 32. I am beautiful. I think women of all sizes are beautiful. Beauty is not and has never been one-size-fits-all. I do not appreciate my image being used, without notice or permission, to tell women I have never met otherwise.

Update: After Jacqueline’s message went live, Jezebel received this response from Ashley Madison founder and CEO Noel Biderman:

The best thing that could’ve happened to this woman is that we used her in our ad. Despite what she may want you to think, she is reaping the press for her own pornography website. She took these pictures and signed the release knowing that they were not just for ‘personal use.’ However, if she can get great publicity from this, all the power to her.

-Jack

The artist was a magnet for controversy.  His latest sculpture, “The Perfect Woman”, featured a female mannequin, naked and gagged, bound to a chair with nylon rope.  Her legs were spread wide, feet above her head, orifices open and available.  Balanced on the bottoms of her high heels was a flat-panel television playing the Super Bowl.  A six-pack of imported beer sat between her legs.  

The reporter bristled at the misogynistic display.  The artist’s reputation was well-deserved.  She tried to hide her disgust, but at the same time she couldn’t deny his talent.  The sculpting was flawless, the face so lifelike. “What materials did you use?” she asked.  

As she spoke, the mannequin stirred. (114)

-Jack

I first took a look at the prompt photo on Tuesday and was somewhat disturbed by it.  I’ve been around the block, as it were, but this isn’t exactly my thing.  I have nothing against BDSM, though neither Jill or I practice it; what squicks me about this picture is that it seems to be telling the viewer that this is what men want:  A sexually available woman who doesn’t speak or move, one who lives primarily to facilitate beer-drinking and football-watching.  And while perhaps some men do want exactly this, I prefer a woman who has opinions and voices them (and for that matter whose mouth is accessible), who is able to move her arms whether during sex or otherwise, and who can join me for a day of beer-drinking and football-watching.  

Perhaps I’m reading too much into this; while it isn’t my thing, I wasn’t offended by the picture.  I have absolutely no problem with consensual degradation, which is I’m sure what the picture depicts.  But the image was so unappealing to me that I put this week’s Flash Fiction Friday out of my mind and didn’t return to the prompt until Thursday night, as though hoping that by then it might be replaced by a more workable image.  

I spent about ten minutes trying to develop an idea in my mind, taking into account the word limit and the mandatory phrase “so lifelike”.  Once I came up with the idea – that of an art reporter examining the latest work by an eccentric sculptor with a penchant for misogyny – writing the actual story was fairly simple.  The word limit didn’t prove problematic, and when my first draft appeared to be quickly approaching the limit a couple small trims reined in the story.  Had I about thirty additional words I would have shown the interaction between the artist and the female reporter in greater depth, perhaps demonstrating his insecurity, or possibly showing that his supposed misogyny is a put-on.

I am pleased with what I came up with for this week’s Flash Fiction Friday. I suspect that my story, cooked up at the last minute in about an hour, is far from original.  I’m also guessing that the twist – the reveal that the sculpture is a living, breathing woman – will be predicted by more than a few readers. In fact, I am curious to see how many of my fellow bloggers wrote something similar.  

If you’d like to take part in the fun, or see who else participated this week, check out Erotic Flash Fiction Friday.