post- magazine

Brown University l November 18, 2010 l Volume 12 l Issue 9

Katerina Dalavurak

Phil Lai

Shouting In The Library

brown students stand up for workers
2 upfront
POST-
LETTER FROM THE EDITOR CONTENTS
03 upfront
the
post
INTERNATIONAL MAN OF SLOSHITY \\ larry au
-
staff
Dear Reader,

I’m starting to get irritated with the real world. Not the ‘Real
TANKED TEXTING \\ sipón datdrank
04 feature
World’ like the reality show, but more like the Matchbox 20
song. A friend of mine keeps telling me that college is simple SHOUTING IN THE LIBRARY \\ sam knowles
Editors-in-Chief
Marshall Katheder
yin and yang, the best and worst of times. There’s casual sex and
cafeteria food, social stress and taught tension. But with release
05 arts & culture
Kate Doyle
and restless freedom. DON’T SLOW DOWN \\ gopika krishna
Sam Carter
SIGHTS SET ON SEDARIS\\ jennie young carr
So what of the world outside of ramen noodles and costumed
Managing Editor of Fea-
tures and Lifestyle lust? It keeps creeping up in unexpected places—bank state- 06 arts & culture
Matthew Klebanoff ments and résumé revision. The thing is, dear reader, that Brown NOT ONLY AN ACTRESS, BUT ALSO A MESSENGER
is so far from preparing me (or us) from reality. Jersey Shore is
Features Editors
closer to real than here. \\ ana rodriguez
Ana Alvarez
Amelia Stanton FINITE INCANTATEM \\ priyanka chatterjee
But soon, we’re out of the rabbit hole. I guess, if there’s a lesson
Music Editor
Katie Delaney
here, it’s to enjoy Wonderland. Bottoms up and down, down we 07 food & booze
go. LIFE OF PIE \\ rémy robert
Theatre Editor THE DYING OF THE PICNIC \\ jane brendlinger
Rachel Lamb Drink Me,
08 sex
Film Editor
Priyanka Chatterjee marshall ASSPERSION \\ mm
Literary Editor
CRAZY LIKE A FOX \\ lovecraft & dorian
Sakina Esufally

Creative Consultant
Ben Schreckinger
GET WITH POST-
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 TOP TEN
Things We Are Thankful For
1 BroPo keeping away the ProPo.
2
Providence tap water is the second best in
the U.S. So, you know, for when you need to
hydrate.
3 8
That SDS cares so much. Our ironic detach-
ment is way more charming when it’s set
against someone hollering at you about social
justice, waving neon poster boards.
4
Spiritus’s proximity. And being open on Sun-
days. Because we don’t need to f*cking rest.
5
New Curriculum. C’s get degrees.
International Man of Sloshity
yes, frat boys exist outside movies
larry AU
contributing writer
Coming from Hong Kong, a city with a legal drinking
age of 18 and New York-style nightlife, I found that oppor-
tunities to indulge and experiment with the use and abuse
of alcohol were endless. “Going out” back home didn’t
mean wandering around Wriston looking (and listening)
for a party—it meant frequenting bars, nightclubs and on
the rare occasion, strip clubs. Dressing up was necessary;
sweatpants and flip-flops simply wouldn’t cut it in the big
city. This is why, for many internationals from cities such
as Beijing, Seoul, and London, going to college and expe-
riencing the nightlife here is such an underwhelming ex-
perience. Most students who hail from the far reaches of
the globe experience some form of culture shock.
In a world where the majority of countries set 18 as the
legal drinking age, America—or at least its legal system—
seems to lag behind in its acceptance of what, for many
cultures, is a common social activity. Of course, there are
regions in the world where alcohol is banned outright, and
many internationals at Brown choose not to drink, but, on
the whole, the fact that drinking is allowed at a younger
age makes it less of a desirable forbidden fruit. In the
words of a fellow Hong Kong international, Victoria Kung
’14, “We’re champs because we start drinking earlier.”
Stereotypical American college culture, as portrayed
in movies such as American Pie, Road Trip, and Animal
House, paints the image of the college experience as an
amalgamation of casual sexual encounters, (lots of) booze,
and recreational drugs. The all-pervasive nature of Ameri-
can media has exposed many internationals to the images
of red beer-filled Solo cups and yellow ping-pong balls. As
my mentor Cindy Oh ‘13 said in a recent BDH article on
the International Mentorship Program, culture shock is
the realization that “frat boys exist outside of movies.”
The aspect of American culture that shocks most in-
ternationals is the extreme openness of American culture
(especially at Brown) on issues related to sex. This can
be both negative and positive, depending on the vantage
point. Grinding, an activity readily engaged in at most col-
lege parties, typifies the explicit sexual nature of Ameri-
can dancing. At my first Brown party, I remember think-
ing that going up to a random girl and grinding her would
definitely be considered sexual assault in many other
countries. Yet, at the same time, this openness also allows
for open, comfortable discussion of sexual health, sexual
violence, and gay rights, notably lacking in so many parts
of the world. Even though sexual openness does facilitate
important dialogues, it is still shocking for many inter-
6 Brown’s construction workers. For mak-
ing sure our ladies have high self-esteem
(whistle, whistle).
7 Katherine Bergeron’s wardrobe Czar. She
used to work for Darth Vader.
The Brown Daily Herald. For letting the
cool kids play in the attic.
9
That the invisible hand of the free
economy likes to roll ‘em up—keep
those prices low, Um-erican black (and
sometimes mild) market.
10
That Andy Suzuki graduated.
Caroline Washurn
national students. A Korean friend, Hye Rin Park ’14, said, “I
was surprised how people could buy condoms off of people’s
doors.” Interestingly, it is also perhaps the personal and intel-
lectual freedom, seemingly embedded in American academic
culture, that attracts many internationals to study in the Unit-
ed States each year.
Another tenet of the American college experience—the
overcrowded, sweaty frat party—often meets with mixed reac-
tions from new international students after the initial horror
wears off. As their American counterparts do, some interna-
tionals reject the frat party while others embrace it. A Singa-
porean friend, Hans Shia ’14, was astonished by “the kind of
alcohol that people settle for,” at these particular events, espe-
cially American beer such as Natty Light and Bud. According
to a Titanic Awards survey conducted in eighty countries with
2000 respondents, 29.4% of respondents voted the United
States as number 1 producer of the world’s worst beer. When
internationals remember the access to alcohol that they enjoy
back home, frat parties seem like a turn for the worst. I certain-
ly miss the days when I could just walk into nightclubs without
having to deal with fake IDs. I fondly recall the weekly ritual
of going out with friends to our favorite shisha bars and the
taste of Coronas and limes followed by a couple lychee mar-
tinis, which is one reason why I’m looking forward to winter
break—back home in Hong Kong, I’ll be eighteen and legal for
the first time.
It is this gap in experience—in drinking and in culture—
which many internationals find rather shocking when they
first arrive in the United States. Don’t get me wrong though:
I’m no snob. I occasionally enjoy a Natty Light and sweaty frat
party just as much as the next guy. Because in the end, it’s not
where or how or what you drink, but whom you drink with that
matters—and here at Brown, I’m happy with that.
upfront
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 2010 3
Tanked
Texting
drjunk dayndgers
sipón DATDRANK
Editor-in-Hiding
One of my favorite birthday presents
I’ve ever received has to be a shirt that
details my worst habit while inebriated.
It’s not smoking cigarettes, it’s not the
drunchies, it’s not even sex in weird places
(or, um, locations).
“Friends don’t let friends drink and
dial.”
Of course, the drunk dial is a little
2000, when cell phones emerged as the
new status symbol for young people work-
ing in finance or consulting in New York,
calling each other for some late-night yup-
pie love from their minimalist Midtown
lofts. No, the new vice for all of us who
received cell phones far before our older
siblings did (something my brother’s still
bitter about) is also the bane of everyone
you’ve ever exchanged numbers with and
found remotely attractive—the drunk
text.
Being the recipient of drunk texts?
Hilarious. I recently had to deal with a
“youreb cute, ik/mkies uyou” sort of situ-
ation from a former FishCo flame while
entirely sober. It was then time for the
game where I was definitely not in the
SciLi studying but just as inebriated as he
was. It required some finagling and mis-
spelling that went against every bone in
my English concentrator body, but it was
pretty productive. It’s when I happen to
be the sender that’s the problem.
The normal range of targets runs from
my best friend from high school who
I’ve often promised to drunk dial at least
once to an ex-boyfriend whose number
I’ve since deleted for fear of embarrass-
ing gender-construct-defying marriage
proposals. And there are a couple of ma-
jor no-nos: someone you just hooked up
with the night before for the first time,
someone who rejected you in the last two
weeks, someone you’ve never spoken to
sober. No, these were not all the same
person; no, I did not ever text them asking
what time we had class the next day, seven
weeks into the semester. That would have
been a rookie mistake.
As a tanked texter, I’m well versed in
the classics. There’s the pregame what-
are-you-up-to, full of innuendo. There’s
the text when you’re at a party, dancing
with some rando making the awkward
come-from-behind kiss move. There’s my
favorite and most common—“COME TO
JOOO’S.” But there’s also my crowning
glory, my holy grail of drunk text conver-
sations, when all the elements of the uni-
verse beautifully and artfully collided at
once.
2:37 AM:
(646): Ay wheyrew u at ?????
(410): Bed, u ?
(646): ;)
(410): K, in ten
(646): Niced, yayyhn
It’s all about the emoticon.
4 feature
POST-
Shouting In The Library
brown students stand up for workers
sam KNOWLES
new guy
The Student Labor Alliance (SLA)
doesn’t have a president. Or a vice-
president, communications director,
or treasurer, for that matter. Other
than a discussion facilitator and a
note-taker, which rotate each meet-
ing, there are no formal positions.
And yet, for a group with only ten
or so core members and no organi-
zational structure, the SLA has been
among the most active—and influen-
tial—groups on campus this semes-
ter.
As three different members told
me on separate occasions, the SLA is a
“non-hierarchical, consensus-based”
organization. This means the group
does not make any decision until ev-
eryone agrees. “We don’t see leader-
ship as an inherently bad thing,” SLA
member Becca Rast ’13 said. “But we
want everyone to have access to it.
Nobody will tell you what to do.”
The SLA meets on the third floor
of the Faunce, in the eastern-most
wing—one of the few portions unaf-
fected by the renovation, to which its
poor lighting and peeling paint attest.
Last Sunday, the L-shaped room was
filled to capacity, as members cut up
cardboard boxes into tomatoes for
an upcoming rally outside the Stop
& Shop on West River Street. The
SLA is trying to pressure the super-
market chain to sign on to a national
“penny per pound” policy designed to
increase wages and improve working
conditions for Florida farm workers.
“Fair Food Now,” one tomato read, in
lime-green font on a blood-red back-
ground.
Their most visible campaign this
semester has been on behalf of li-
brary workers during their contract
negotiations with the University. No-
vember 9 marked the end of a two-
month dispute over employee health-
care contributions, which came after
three temporary contract extensions.
The SLA solicited signatures for peti-
tions, sent delegations to the offices
of relevant administrators, and held
two rallies, the last of which drew
over 200 students.
The dispute came as no surprise
to SLA members, who had been plan-
ning their campaign since last spring.
The union representative, Karen
McAninch ’74, told them there was no
use in rallying support until more de-
tails on the University’s position were
available. But when the University fi-
nally released its proposal, set to in-
crease employee healthcare contribu-
tions, the SLA began mobilizing.
Member Haley Kossek ‘13 said
their first task was to draw greater at-
tention to the issues, which few stu-
dents knew about until mid-October.
“We sent delegations to the BDH, say-
ing this was a campus issue that need-
ed to be covered,” she said. “But they
said because the University hadn’t
commented, it wasn’t enough for an
article,” she explained. On October 14,
though, the BDH ran its first article,
even without a University comment.
SLA members said the article raised
the campaign’s profile significantly.
The SLA then turned to their com-
mon tactics during such negotiations:
petitions, delegations, phone calls,
emails, and public demonstrations.
The group coordinated their efforts
closely with the union representatives
and library workers. “We kept in pret-
ty regular contact, in regards of what
they wanted and what was useful,”
Rast said.
For instance, the union consid-
ered certain negotiating meetings to
be more important than others. Aside
from the Director of Labor and Em-
ployee Relations Joseph Sorno, who
came to every meeting, other admin-
istrators attended on a rotating basis.
When the University Librarian Harri-
ette Hemmasi came, union represen-
tatives asked the SLA to send a delega-
tion reaffirming their support for the
library workers, according to Kossek.
On November 5, the SLA and about
200 supporters stormed University
Hall, chanting their support for library
workers on megaphones as they made
their way to several administrative of-
fices. The President’s receptionist said
she was unavailable, but that the stu-
dents’ messaged would be conveyed.
“They were very, very supportive,
and in a good way,” McAninch said of
the SLA. “Not telling us how to run our
business—trying to be as supportive as
they could be to strike for what’s right.
The members of the union think the
world of the SLA.”
In addition to supporting on-cam-
pus workers, the SLA seeks to improve
working and living conditions for
workers at all companies the Universi-
ty invests in or purchases from. Since
last year, the SLA has repeatedly asked
Brown to divest from HEI Hotels, due
to reported incidents of worker intimi-
dation and anti-unionizing efforts.
After a recommendation by the
University’s Advisory Committee on
Corporate Responsibility in Invest-
ment Policies (ACCRIP), which the
SLA lobbied, President Simmons wrote
a letter of concern to HEI in February.
Students and faculty from several oth-
er invested universities applauded her
initiative. But Brown has yet to with-
draw its investment, arguing that the
allegations are still “unverified.”
Two weeks ago, the Brown Uni-
versity Community Council (BUCC)
adopted part of an SLA proposal,
promising to honor a worker-called
boycott of the Westin in Providence
by refusing to hold events there. The
SLA had called on the BUCC to adopt
a categorical policy against holding
events at any hotels where workers
had called a boycott, which the Uni-
versity did not pass.
Other campaigns focus on issues
farther away from campus. Last se-
mester, the SLA petitioned Brown to
end its apparel contracts with Nike,
after allegations that affiliated sweat-
shops in Honduras did not provide its
workers with legally mandated com-
pensation. Following its stated poli-
cies, the University parted ways with
the company this past summer.
While hesitating to say Brown is
hostile to their agenda, the SLA takes
serious issue with the University’s
approach to employment disputes—
in particular, its invocation of the
recession in order to justify layoffs
and cutbacks. “The University will of-
ten try to frame cuts as the students’
welfare or the workers’ welfare—you
can’t have both,” SLA member Ian
Trupin ‘13 said. “It’s very important
to us that the message is not simpli-
fied like that.”
And despite their efforts to work
with administrators through ap-
proved channels, it seems fair to say
the SLA has an uneasy relationship
with the University. It is not uncom-
mon for SLA members to sit down to
meet with officials one week and stage
an occupation of their office buildings
the next.
“We’ll always ask for meetings be-
cause we want to respect the process
that Brown has in place,” Rast said.
“But if they don’t respond, we take
matters into our own hands.”
In this case, their rhetoric becomes
sharper, their methods more aggres-
sive. In a recent blog post, Kossek ac-
cused the Vice President of Finance
and Administration Beppie Huideko-
Phil Lai
per of “misleading,” “deceptive,” and
“dishonest” claims regarding the li-
brary worker wage increases.
The SLA’s public demonstrations
occasionally lean towards the theatri-
cal. The organization asked students
to attend the “Wedding of The Brown
Investment Office and HEI Hotels
Corporate Greed” on the Main Green,
the online invitations written in Ed-
wardian Script. Violinists played
wedding hymns as two SLA members
proclaimed their ever-lasting love for
one another. “Brown Investment Of-
fice,” an SLA member asked through a
megaphone, “Do you take HEI corpo-
rate greed to have and to hold, to love
and to cherish, to value and prioritize
and all else?” Kossek responded, with
glee, “I do!”
To skeptics, the scene of Polo-
clad, Ivy-League students staging a
morality play of sorts may suggest
that these campaigns are more about
flash than substance. Yet even amidst
such theatrics, even with the occa-
sional references to César Chávez and
empowerment theory, SLA members
come across as decidedly un-ideolog-
ical in their approach.
“The severity of our tactics is de-
termined by the resistance of the Uni-
versity,” Kossek said. “If we can get
what we want out of just sitting down
and talking, that’s great. It’s just not
always the case.”
It’s hard to say the work is glamor-
ous. Members say they spend about 15
to 20 hours a week on SLA-related ac-
tivities: planning events, distributing
flyers, working out strategy, coordi-
nating with other progressive groups.
There are fun moments—cutting out
cardboard tomatoes with friends on
a Sunday night, for instance. But the
SLA takes its responsibility very seri-
ously.
“The University constantly talks
about the importance of students,”
SLA member Beth Caldwell ‘12 said.
“It’s important for the students to let
the University know that workers are
important to them.”

Don’t Slow Down
third wheelin’ it with matt & kim
gopika KRISHNA
staff writer
From Lennon and McCartney to Weezy and Drake,
great partnerships are a tried and true staple of popu-
lar music culture. When these partnerships turn pas-
sionate, though, the results can be not only musically
inspiring but also tumultuous and dramatic. Many
musical couples, like Gwen Stefani and Tony Kanal
in No Doubt, Sonny and Cher, and everyone in Fleet-
wood Mac, usually end up with an unsavory mix of
lyrics and lust that speak more to heartbreak than to
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 2010
arts & culture
5
random texts and putting them together into some-
thing cohesive and meaningful. The end result is a
sound that feels accessible and relatable, reminis-
cent of a more fine-tuned high school garage band
your friends were in, not the musical venture of two
almost thirty-year-olds.
A conversation about Matt & Kim would not be
complete without mentioning their live shows. I
had the pleasure of seeing them at The Met a few

love and sunshine. Brooklyn-based duo Matt & Kim,
however, seem to be the gleaming exception to that
rule. The infectiously adorable pair is reminiscent of
the disgustingly cool, rebellious teenage couple that
would sneak off in their parents’ cars or use each oth-
er’s photos as their Facebook defaults, but without
any of the annoying cuteness that follows.
The two native New Englanders first crossed
paths while attending the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn.
At the beginning of their musical career, neither key-
boardist/vocalist Matt Johnson nor drummer/vocal-
ist Kim Schifino knew how to play their respective
instruments. But by 2004, they were independently
touring and quickly building a large and loyal follow-
ing in their hometowns. This do-it-yourself relation-
ship to their music is largely reflected in the playful
melodies, dance-filled rhythms, and winning com-
bination of hard-hitting drums and almost childlike
keyboard sounds that make you want to simultane-
ously dance, mosh, and hug whoever is next to you.
The band’s songwriting also has this same carefree
feeling, usually beginning with the pair writing down
weeks ago for the final show of their recent tour.
When the show began, it was obvious that the two-
some was there to rock out and have as good a time
(if not better) as their adoring fans. What surprised
me was the sheer amount of noise and energy pro-
duced by just these two people. The only things on
stage were a drumset, a keyboard, and a few awe-
somely trippy lights, but the two were somehow
able to fill the space with enough music that the
show quickly turned into a two-hour rave extrava-
ganza. Everyone, from the crowd-surfers up front
to the people hanging out near the back to Kim’s
Rhode Islander family, was jumping around, danc-
ing up a storm, and even showering neighbors with
glitter. The only two people probably having more
fun than the audience were Matt and Kim them-
selves. At one point, Kim walked across the crowd,
booty-dancing to Major Lazer while trying not to
hit her head on the ceiling. It was almost hard to
believe that the pair were “serious” grown musi-
cians, and not two rambunctious teenagers who’d
decided to screw around on some instruments with
Lauren Youngsmith
their friends just for the hell of it. By the end of the
show, it was nearly impossible to not walk out smil-
ing and singing and feeling the same kind of exuber-
ant, childish joy that Matt and Kim were so obviously
feeling. With their amazingly energetic sound and
equally powerful live shows, it is clear that the two
native New Englanders are quickly creating a balance
between fun pop and adolescent recklessness without
any of the annoyance. It takes a special breed of art-
ist to be able to make a video walking naked through
Times Square (as they did for “Lessons Learned”) and
still maintain the respect of the music world’s biggest
critics. In a way, they’re sort of like a musical Bonnie
and Clyde. That is, if Bonnie and Clyde were two hot
twenty-something punk hipsters who filled the world
with audio sunshine and joy.
Lauren Youngsmith

Sights Set on Sedaris

dress me in corduroy and denim, uncle david
jennie YOUNG CARR
contributing writer
Full disclosure: I have a crush on Da-
vid Sedaris. Not, I hasten to add, of the
romantic variety—no lustful thoughts
taint the purity of my affection. I yearn
to be his niece, to exchange wry glances
with him during the cacophony of a
Sedaris Thanksgiving dinner. Then (as
the fantasy goes), while the others laze
about, glutted with turkey, David and
I will seclude ourselves in some out-
of-the-way corner and he will tell me
stories. I imagine that these stories will
be like the mordant tales from his lat-
est book, Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk—
modern-day Aesopian fables that cast a
keen yet sympathetic eye on the foibles
of humanity.
I’ve idolized David Sedaris since age
twelve, when I stumbled upon a reprint
of his essay “SantaLand Diaries” while
waiting in the dentist’s office. I had
been in hysterics all afternoon; my pre-
teen penchant for drama had turned
getting braces into an agonizing ordeal.
“SantaLand Diaries” whisked me away
to the dirty underbelly of Macy’s at
Christmastime, a place of bitter, child-
loathing elves and the vice-ridden San-
tas that they serve. Seen from Sedaris’s
caustic perspective, it was infinitely
more enchanting than any overly com-
mercialized Yuletide wonderland.
In the six years that followed that
fateful day, I have remained a devoted
fan, devouring each new Sedaris book
upon publication. Tales of his hilari-
ously dysfunctional family have the
same cozy familiarity as stories from my
own childhood, with the added benefit
of more exotic characters (see Dinah,
the Christmas whore). David and his
boyfriend Hugh rank among my favorite
couples, though I have never met Hugh
and have spent a grand total of forty-five
seconds in conversation with David. This
is Sedaris’s genius. With a few precise,
impeccably chosen words, he can make
a character as vividly real as your next-
door neighbor. That his work tends to
be semi-autobiographical makes his
characters even more captivating; their
lives are not confined to the pages of
his books, and the reader can’t help but
form a tantalizingly voyeuristic relation-
ship with them. In this respect, Sedaris—
often his own main character—is the
most tantalizing of all. Reading Sedaris’s
works inevitably leads to a sense of con-
nection to him; after all, many anecdotes
are intensely personal, populated as they
are by family members and a collection
of oddballs from Sedaris’s past, and the
author’s personality pervades every page
of his books. The more you read, the
more you learn about Sedaris’ life, and a
false intimacy begins to develop. Slowly,
insidiously, a delusion takes root in the
reader’s mind: you begin to think you
know David Sedaris.
I am far from immune to this delu-
sion, a fact that became abundantly clear
when Sedaris came to Brown to do a
reading and book signing. The bookstore
was crowded with fans, all clutching their
copies of Squirrel Meets Chipmunk and
chattering excitedly about the author’s
brilliance. Faced with 249 of the author’s
other admirers, I had the sinking realiza-
tion that I was far from unique. Perhaps
some other girl—maybe that one, in the
patterned leggings—even shared my
fantasy of becoming David’s adoptive
niece. Suddenly, this pleasant event had
become a crisis of identity. How could I
possibly distinguish myself amidst this
sea of fans? I felt bland, uninteresting,
and depressingly certain that it was
an impossible task. After the reading,
I found a tucked-away vantage point
from which to observe David Sedaris
while he signed books. Regarding my
competitors jealously, I indulged in
pointless acrimony: What did that tool
say to make David laugh? I strategized
half-heartedly, but I couldn’t think of
a single remark that wasn’t a transpar-
ent attempt to ingratiate myself to him.
Person after person approached the
author’s table. Some were shy—“I’m
starstruck!” one middle-aged woman
giggled, lifting her hands to her blush-
ing cheeks—others, confident. They all
shared a common desire: A moment
in which the inherently one-sided rela-
tionship of fan to author was made re-
ciprocal. Notice me, they said with ges-
tures and bashful smiles. Like me. Let
me bask in your attention.
Finally, it was my turn to have my
book signed. I sidled up to the table and
handed it to Sedaris meekly. “Hi,” he
said, bestowing the same wide, slightly
gap-toothed smile on me that every oth-
er fan had received.
“Do you say ‘awesome’?” he in-
quired. He had mentioned his cam-
paign to eradicate the word from the
English lexicon during the reading, so I
knew where this was going. “Let’s never
say awesome together” was his generic
sign-off, and he was preparing to write it
in my book. I’m unexceptional! I wailed
to myself. Too thoroughly unremarkable
to merit a unique comment!
“I like to mix up my superlatives,” I
said, watching with a sinking heart as he
inscribed the standard phrase on the fly-
leaf of my book. Turning to leave, I was
arrested with surprise as I heard David
Sedaris say, “Mix up your superlatives…
that’s a nice way of putting it.”
“Thanks!” I chirped. Exiting the store,
generically autographed book cradled
gently in my arms, I repressed an urge
to skip. That comment, so casually ut-
tered, had given me the chance to believe
that I was something more than number
144 in a line of faceless fans. Grim logic
sneered at this dream, but I, like any lover
of novels, chose to embrace an appealing
fiction. Already I was tinkering with the
memory, finessing the setting—subtract
the 249 other people, add one overstuffed
plaid couch, dim the lighting and it could
almost be Thanksgiving evening.
6 arts & culture
POST-

Phil Lai
Not Only An Actress, But Also A Messenger
ana RODRIGUEZ
reflections on en las manos de la muerte
contributing writer

En Las Manos de La Muerte, written by Alexan-
dra Bernson ‘12 and directed by Professor Patricia
Ybarra, was performed at the Rites and Reason The-
atre in order to provoke discussion about the narco
culture on the US-Mexico border. Sophomore theater
concentrator Alejandra Rivera gives us insight into
her experience with En Las Manos de La Muerte and
how she dealt with the difficult subject matter of the
play.
Why did you decide to audition for En Las
Manos de La Muerte?
I decided to audition because I wanted to be a part
of a play that would bring to light critical aspects of
Latin life and culture to the Brown community. Where
do the drugs come from? At what cost? Who pays?
How? I was eager to answer these questions through
performance, which worked to my advantage, seeing
as the Rites and Reason Theatre holds what are re-
ferred to as “Rawditions.” Anybody who auditions ob-
tains a role, seeing as they show interest in being part
of the play. The purpose of the audition process is to
place actor with character.
What role did you play?
I played María, the girlfriend of narco trafficker
and not-so-smooth-talker Benicio, the protagonist,
played by Joseph Rosales. She is a woman in her mid-
twenties who has dealt directly with the repercussions
of being in the narco world by experiencing the death
of her brother, who was killed by a gang. While she
is in love with Benicio, she understands the dangers
of being involved with him and does not approve of
any form of rebellion against basic moral rules; she
detests Santa Muerte, the deity to whom the margin-
ated groups of society pray.
How did you immerse yourself in María?
In order to lend my body to María, I had to under-
stand the world that she lived in. Thus, the process
of researching Mexican narco culture was extremely
helpful. Gang mentality tends to resemble the follow-
ing: “If she belongs to one of us, then she belongs to all
of us.” In such a world, it would be socially acceptable
to kill, rape, and harm women at will as a form of ex-
change between narcos. “They like to get back at each
other by their women,” María mentions at a certain
point. As a result, comprehending the danger of being
María gave me a pathway to her deepest, most defin-
ing qualities and objectives.
How do you acquire a new personality on
stage without interfering with your own?
The answer is simple: you don’t. Lowry Marshall,
the professor for my acting class here, once men-
tioned, “What good is an actor who doesn’t know who
he is?” While the roles you play will never (and prob-
ably should never) be you completely, an actor is gen-
erally cast according to what he or she can offer to the
role. As opposed to casting it aside, I needed to use my
personality, channeling it in particular ways, in order
to bring her to life onstage.
What was it like to be involved in a Rites
and Reasons play, a work dealing with heavier
racial and ethnic matters, as opposed to other
Brown plays?
The stakes were much higher for me as a person,
seeing as there were many people who voiced their
discontent with the play’s viewpoints and even with
the fact that Brown was putting it up. We had to center
ourselves, stand our ground, and give it everything we
had despite criticism. Thus, as opposed to other Brown
plays, being part of En Las Manos de La Muerte re-
quired a new kind of courage that extended from just
standing onstage to standing in front of an audience
representing something that could “hit home” for many
and not be well-received by others. I felt that I was not
only an actress, but also a messenger.
How do you release yourself from the char-
acter you have been playing for such a signifi-
cant amount of time, and how do you prepare
yourself to embrace a new one for an upcoming
play?
The moment you just described is the one that brings
the most emotion out of me. I spent such a long time
raising María that it was inevitable to be overtaken by
nostalgia when I let her go. You could say that I enter a
period of mourning when I finish working with a char-
acter, but it’s how much fun it was, how much I learned,
how much I loved playing that character that makes me
want to keep going, to keep seeing, to keep playing. It
makes me excited to see who will be my new baby, my
new responsibility. I guess that’s how you overcome it
and open yourself up to something new – with grati-
tude and excitement.

priyanka CHATTERJEE
film editor
After a repeat viewing (and drinking
game edition) of Harry Potter and the
Half-Blood Prince last night, I began
to get rather emotional at the thought
of the November 19 opening of Harry
Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part
1. After all, Harry Potter and the Sor-
cerer’s Stone, the film, came out when I
was in the sixth grade. In fact, I’m going
to take this time to apologize to Jeremy
Goldman, a student in my sixth grade
Lauren Youngsmith
Finite Incantatem
deathly hallows, portkey to my childhood
class whom we all mercilessly made fun
of because of his resemblance to the boy
wizard. The day we went on the field trip
to go see the film in theaters was not a
good day for him. Considering that the
movies have made over $5 billion (that’s
roughly equal to the GDP of Mongolia)
as they’ve been released over the course
of almost a decade and have become one
of the most popular literary-film adapta-
tions of this nascent century, there’s a fair
bit of weight surrounding this
week’s premiere. Not to mention
the expectations of millions of
fans around the world who, like
me and many other Brown stu-
dents, have grown up with both
the book and film series.
Of course, I then realized that
this was just the first part, and
I have a whole eight months to
actually reconcile with the end
of the film series. For those who
have not discerned the tiny, tiny
“Part 1” addendum to the movie
posters, this film will only detail
the first half of J.K. Rowling’s
last novel in the series. The book,
arguably the darkest and most
plot-heavy of all of the Potter
novels, covers so much ground
that screenwriter Steve Kloves
even joked about splitting the
film adaptation into three parts
(which, no doubt, the studio
would have been happy to do).
But it was clear that “to do the
book any justice, there was no
way to tell this story in one film,”
remarked producer David Hey-
man. And maybe the universe
wanted it so: the extra shooting time
necessary for a second movie lengthened
production of the entire series to a cute 9
¾ years. Director David Yates describes
this first part, set to release at midnight,
as an “edgy road movie,” following char-
acters Harry, Ron, and Hermione fleeing
from the villainous Death Eaters. Some
critics have even likened it to the Bourne
trilogy, a series known for its shaky cam-
era work and impressive action scenes.
For me, the period before a Harry
Potter film has always involved a vora-
cious devouring of any and every video,
image, quote, article, trailer, teaser trail-
er (which is exactly what it sounds like, a
tease), red-carpet blog featuring fashion
commentary on the premiere—every-
thing. But for this movie, that insatiable
need has been markedly absent. Perhaps
it’s my own issue with confronting know-
ingly sad movies; I have to stop Titanic
after the iceberg hits and wouldn’t dare
touch something like Terms of Endear-
ment. Deathly Hallows will be no pic-
nic—the book alone was full of death,
destruction, and even genocidal over-
tones. Usually, Rowling kept the number
of deaths of beloved characters to about
one a book—that is, until the seventh
one. To see their deaths depicted on-
screen will be harrowing to a new degree,
like Bambi’s mom’s death exponentially
increased. As I’ve read and grown to love
these characters for almost a decade of
my life, it’s hard to imagine being more
emotionally invested in a movie.
Early reviews of the film, starring
Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, and
Emma Watson ‘13, have been largely
positive. On the whole, the quality of the
movies has improved with time, and this is
largely due to the streamlining of the plot
that requires cutting out what some fans
think are essential scenes. In fact, a large
battle scene was cut out of the sixth movie,
Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, in
order to make the final Battle of Hogwarts
seem more grandiose and impressive. An-
other Battle of Hogwarts is the main plot
point of Harry Potter and the Deathly
Hallows—Part 2, due to be released next
summer.
Of course, these eight months between
the two movies may still not be enough for
some to grapple with the end of the films.
Harry and I were the same age when the
books were released, making it one of the
most essential pop culture events to mark
my life. Maybe I can’t watch any of the
YouTube videos that show how the young
versions of the trio have aged into their
current selves because it reminds me too
much of just how much I’ve grown up. If
the golden age of Disney movies (I’m talk-
ing post-Little Mermaid) encapsulates this
generation’s childhood, the Harry Potter
series epitomizes our adolescence. The way
our parents talk about how many times they
first saw Star Wars is the same way we will
talk (and have talked) about these films
(though if they make three mediocre Harry
Potter prequels thirty years from now, I
may Crucio myself). There’s a poignancy
to the end of anything, like that ubiquitous
Green Day song that shall not be named.
There’s a comfort in knowing our favorite
characters end up all right, something we
wish we could know for ourselves. Grow-
ing up with Harry means we’re watching
the end—not only of his childhood, but also
the end of ours.

jane BRENDLINGER
food columnist
So we’re reaching the end of November, and
unless you happen to own a HappyLight Deluxe,
seasonal affective disorder is probably begin-
ning to take its toll. Providence becomes muddy,
rainy sludge, and waking up at noon limits you
to four hours of sunlight a day. Brothers and sis-
ters, these are the dark days.
Despite the bleakness of the weather, there
are days that can be, if not entirely warm, at least
endurable. With clear blue skies and russet foli-
age, they can even be quite radiant. These are the
days, dear reader, that you must seize before it
becomes cold as balls. Go for a picnic.
The picnic is a dying art. Even in spring and
summer, the picnic is often dismissed due to
laziness and a lack of creativity. Sure, trekking
somewhere to sit and eat a packed meal is a bit
inconvenient, but that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?
If you don’t enjoy the “work” aspect, you might
just not like picnics.
Skeptics of the picnic often ask: What foods
could you possibly eat outside, anyway? The an-
swer: pretty much anything. And, without fail,
they’ll complain that it’s “too cold” to eat outside.
To them, I say, cut the excuses, put on a coat,
Me Jane, You Food
the dying art of the picnic
and go have a f*cking picnic.
Fall presents such a fantastic opportunity
for seasonal flavor as well as the chance to use
your thermos. The thermos is an absolute key
player: it keeps hot things hot, and cold things
cold (but how does it know?). On the nippier
days, the picnic menu benefits immensely
from hot soup or a spiced apple cider, provid-
ing nourishment and warmth while simulta-
neously melting your cold, cold heart. Accom-
pany these items with a sandwich or a hearty
loaf, some delightfully moist pumpkin bread
for dessert, and you’ve got the makings of an
autumnal feast, all the more enhanced by the
crisp air, the circling falcon eyeing your food,
and the company.
Taking advantage of this past weekend’s
veritable sixty degree “heat wave,” I whipped
up a batch of butternut squash soup for trans-
port. This is my favorite squash soup because
of its killer combination of apple and fennel. I
imagine that eating fennel for the first time is
a bit like taking that first line of coke: it’s ex-
hilarating, and it just makes you want more.
Thankfully, fennel is a more nutritious and
affordable habit, and one that I have no inten-
tion of breaking. In this soup, the bright flavor
that hints ever so slightly at sweet licorice acts
as a perfect complement to the mellow, hearty
squash. A granny smith lends a perky tartness,
and the pinch of cayenne pepper at the end
gives a satisfying kick. You might want a fair
amount of this, so make sure your thermos is
big enough.
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 2010
Squash, Fennel, and Apple Soup, courtesy of The
Voluptuous Vegan by Myra Kornfeld and George Binot:
Ingredients:
1 teaspoon fennel seeds*
1 tablespoon extra-virgin ol-
ive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
1 medium fennel bulb,
chopped
1 granny smith apple, peeled
and cubed
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 pound butternut squash,
peeled and cubed
4 cups vegetable stock**
2 tablespoons raw white rice
A pinch of cayenne pepper
Salt and black pepper to taste
Notes:
* Okay, so not everyone
thought to bring fennel seeds
from their parent’s spice cabi-
net. I did. But I highly recom-
mend adding these to your bag
of tricks. They take everything
a step above amateur hour.
** If you’re in a pinch, water
works fine. Less flavorful, but
honestly, I can hardly tell the
difference.
food & booze
Illustration by Lauren Youngsmith
7
Steps:
Toast the fennel seeds in a skillet until
fragrant. If you’re a baller, crush them
with a mortar and pestle. I use the
back of a spoon.
Warm the oil in a saucepan, then add
the onions and the fennel and sauté
until soft, about 5-7 minutes. Add the
garlic, apple, and ground fennel seed
and sauté another 5 minutes.
Add the squash cubes, stock, and rice,
and bring to a boil. Add 1 teaspoon of
salt, reduce heat and simmer for 10 to
15 minutes until squash is tender.
Purée soup in batches in a blender
(careful, though, while blending hot
liquids, they have a tendency to ex-
plode. It’s best to wait for the soup to
cool, but I’m not a patient person—so
just make sure to wear an oven mitt
and hold the lid down). Return soup
to pot, reheat if necessary, and season
with the cayenne, black pepper, and
salt to taste.
So pour this into your thermos, get
off your ass and grab a blanket. You
don’t have to go far—the Main Green
will do, or even that patch of concrete
outside of Grad Center, if you’re into
concrete. Live on the edge and eat that
soup outside.

Life of Pie
the secret of our strength as a nation
rémy ROBERT
staff writer
“It is utterly insufficient [to eat pie only twice a
week], as anyone who knows the secret of our strength
as a nation and the foundation of our industrial su-
premacy must admit. Pie is the American synonym of
prosperity, and its varying contents the calendar of
the changing seasons. Pie is the food of heroic. No pie-
eating people can ever be permanently vanquished.”
–New York Times (May 3, 1902)
What holiday could be more American than Thanks-
giving? Rooted in colonialism, family, and God, it remains
a quintessential part of our country’s identity, marked by
binge fests and football. Similarly, what dessert could be
more American than apple pie? A cultural icon, it is the
emblem of patriotism and down-home comfort.
Indeed, America has appropriated pie as its most na-
tionalistic dish of dishes, a symbol of heroism met with
humility, robustness with cozy delicacy. It’s ubiquitous
during the holidays, but in the summer, you’ll find it in
the form of strawberry rhubarb or key lime. And what
would the Fourth of July be without good old cherry
pie?
There is something so viscerally, universally appeal-
ing about pie, as darling as a cake but nowhere near as
fussy. Pastry and filling were destined for each other like
Barbie and Ken: together, they are the image of domes-
ticity, yet infinitely versatile. On any given minute of the
day, there is some breed of pie out there begging to be
consumed.
Breakfast. Bam. Start the day off right with a simple
tart filled with fresh fruit. Berries, pears, peaches, cit-
rus—pick your poison. Best if you pile ‘em over pastry
cream, if you can swing it.
At lunchtime, quiche reigns supreme. What the
French have done here is answer to the American pie
in a trickier, more ethereal fashion. Still, a rose by any
other name… yadda yadda. Smoked ham and Brie or
mushrooms and leeks are redolent of eating al fresco on
Parisian sidewalks. If you, a pie purist, insist on omitting
the eggy filling, a noble alternative can be found in a tart of
roasted squash and Gorgonzola. Go wild.
Dinner calls for something more substantial, and so the
stage is set for chicken pot pie. With its bubbling interior of
gravy beneath a halo of crust, it is the textbook example of
comfort food, a perfect antidote to these damp gray days
with their cruelly evanescent sunlight. Later in the night,
pizza is the only option, at least as pies go—as they say in
Wedding Crashers, it’s good no matter what.
Dessert, though, is the arena in which pie can really
shine at its Platonic ideal. During Thanksgiving, certain
dishes start to seem repulsive as more of them are heaped
onto the table. I can tolerate two casseroles. I cannot toler-
ate seven of them. With pies, though, there is no diminish-
ing marginal value. Keep them coming, and everyone will
stay happy.
I am a strong supporter of pecan pie; the pecans, gem-
like, precipitate bursts of buttery expression amidst ooze
of the molasses. Another contender is sweet potato pie,
which is further glorified with a gingersnap-pecan crust.
Gild the lily that is pumpkin pie by folding caramel into
the filling. Chilled pies needn’t be ruled out; as a Southern-
er, I’m partial to the lemon icebox pie, a wonder of tangy
golden custard frozen atop coarse graham cracker crust.
It tastes like wearing a sundress on a wrap-around porch.
While you may call that inappropriate for Thanksgiving, I
call it timely. This is an under-publicized cure for Seasonal
Affective Disorder.
So the New York Times editorial, however hyperbolic,
makes a good point. Pie, in its manifold manifestations,
is a cornerstone of American culinary tradition. Rustic or
highbrow, sweet or savory, it always manages to satisfy—
what better cause exists for giving thanks? Should you need
to satisfy a pie fix wherever you find yourself next week,
here’s my pick. I’ve heard it’ll earn you the eternal adula-
tion of whoever eats it, but you may want to just hoard it in
your room. Leave the apple pie to everyone else.
Anish Gonchigar
AMAZING PECAN PIE
It should speak volumes that I still get warm
fuzzies thinking about spending the holidays
with an ex-boyfriend, an abnormality I ac-
credit mostly to this pie, a brainchild of my
ex-’s mom. It’s so beloved that she has to make
several every Thanksgiving in order to satisfy
the appetites of her throng of hungry sons. The
secret is the dark corn syrup and brown sugar,
which meld in a torrid, oven-bound affair to
create just about the most celestial smell I could
ever dream up.
Ingredients:
1 cup dark corn syrup
1 cup brown sugar
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
3 eggs, lightly beaten
1 ½ cups chopped pecans (reserve ¼ cup)
One pie crust, unbaked
Preheat oven at 350°. Mix together all ingre-
dients until combined. Pour into pie crust,
sprinkle reserved pecans over the top, and
cover with aluminum foil. Bake for about forty
minutes, or until a knife inserted in the middle
is not covered with raw pecan goop. Remove
the foil and bake for 5 more minutes. Let rest
an hour before serving.
8 sex
POST-
Asspersion
MM
sexpert
Asspersion: n. the stigma that
renders various forms of anal stim-
ulation less socially acceptable to
explore, discuss, and read about in
weekly periodicals.
By popular demand, this week’s
Sexicon is going where—let’s face
it—innumerable men and women
have gone before. Because there are
considerable asspersions cast toward
the proverbial back door, anal play
can be a hard subject to broach with
your heterosexual female partner
or your homosexual male friend or
your doctor or your mom. Anal sex,
in all its various forms, is historically
frowned upon by biblical folks, of-
ten reviled by neighborhood homo-
phobes, and sometimes discouraged
by certain medical professionals for
its potential dangers. Rear entry is
inherently about pleasure, not pro-
creation (though I had some serious
misconceptions about the mechan-
ics of baby-making until about sixth
grade, which involved either storks
or buttholes, or some combination
thereof). It can be intensely intimate,
raunchily risqué, and deeply satis-
fying—but only if the participants
Dear L&D,
My partner likes to dress up as a
fox when we have sex. He says that
it’s “just for fun,” but I’m pretty sure
there’s more to it. I’m totally okay
with his fantasy, but I can’t seem to
make it clear to him that it is a very
sexual thing for him. Help?
Your Inquisitive Furry Friend
Darlink YIFF,
If you are “totally okay” with his
foxy ways, then why does it matter?
If it really doesn’t bother you, you
shouldn’t be worrying about trying
to convince him that you’re right
on this matter. If it’s not a problem,
then it’s not a problem. If it makes
you uncomfortable, you need to ad-
mit that and tell him. There’s prob-
ably more to it, but if he’s uncom-
fortable telling you that, the best
thing you can do is what you’ve been
doing—inviting his ears, festive red
tongue in (butt)cheek
reduce the risks by wearing protection
and beat the bigots by turning the oth-
er … cheek.
Because my own posterior experi-
ence is decidedly limited, I turned to
my more anus-fain friends for advice
and anecdotes to learn about all things
rectal. One female friend had anal be-
fore vaginal sex to preserve her vir-
ginity in the eighth grade, a decision
entirely reliant on her definition of
“sex,” and, accordingly, “virginity.” (By
her standards, most of my gay friends
would have to identify as virgins, which
I’m not super sure they’d be down
with.) It’s a myth that women don’t en-
joy anal, or that they only participate in
it for reasons like the aforementioned;
ass nerves are dense and sensitive,
which can mean pleasurable stimu-
lation (even sphincteric orgasm) as
well as potential discomfort. Anal also
frees up the penetrating party’s hands
(as does doggy-style), with which they
might then visit the clit, dick, vagina,
or scrotum.
One of the nice things about anal
is that (unlike so many other things
in this world) it’s gender-neutral—ev-
eryone’s equipped to receive it. That
means a woman can strap on a dildo
Crazy Like A Fox
fur, and bushy tail into your henhouse
and enjoying it.
xoxo,
Lovecraft
Dear YIFF,
I think, if we’re being honest here,
that you should be pretty happy about
the situation that you’re in. Your part-
ner is clearly happy and open enough
with you to wear a costume to bed
(which is a big deal since this is prob-
ably something that he agonized over
and worried that you would freak out
about). All you need to do is continue
to be the warm, accepting, and non-
aggressive partner with whom he felt
comfortable enough to share his vul-
pine passion. Stay that way, and if
there’s any more to his fetish, he’ll tell
you eventually.
Your Friendly Neighborhood
Bang,
Dorian
in a harness and thrust into a consent-
ing party of any gender, and that a man
can roll on a ’dom and do the same. It’s
incredibly easy for anal tissue to tear,
even without the butt-owner’s knowl-
edge, and that makes STI-transmission
exponentially more likely. So wear a
rubber and drench that ass in water-
based lube, or things could hurt for a
really long time.
My knowledge of the prostate or-
gasm is necessarily secondhand, but
I’ve heard rave reviews. An ex de-
scribed it as an orgasm without an ori-
gin, a sensation without a source that
rocks the entire pelvic cavity. Fingering
one orifice is not so different from fin-
gering another. With a condom or latex
glove, use an index finger to massage
the prostate gland in roughly the same
manner as the G-spot. Again, lube it
up; it won’t wet itself.
Another form of lube, as one anal
enthusiast informed me, is good old-
fashioned saliva. This is where the
butt-besmirchers get real pissed--noth-
ing is more odious to a straight-laced
gay-hater than sodomy of the lingual
variety. Though it’s wrong to cast as-
spersions, the cynics are right to con-
sider anilingus (oral sex of the anus or
furry fantasies
Dear Lovecraft and Dorian,
Have the two of you ever made
the ol’ beast with two backs? Had a
roll in the hay? Knocked boots? Put
some sour cream in the taco? Done
the naughty? Batter-dipped the corn
dog? Danced the horizontal mambo?
Bumped uglies? Played hide the sa-
lami?
Much Advice Yields Boning Excite-
ment
Darlink MAYBE,
No, sorry, we haven’t. I know this
may be strange, but one of my major
requirements for bedmates is that
they have a sexual interest in the la-
dies. Unfortunately, Dorian sorely
lacks this quality. I will, however, use
the scrapings of power given to me by
Post- to heartily endorse having sex
with Dorian (if you are a nice boy over
the age of 18). Evidence collected from
perineum) dangerous and not for the
faint of taint. My friend the anilingus
expert (Rimperator? Salad Caesar?
Chief of Brown Police?) calls it “the
sexual equivalent of eating a blow-
fish,” which I think refers more to the
medical risks than to the actual oral
logistics. Bacteria, viruses, and para-
sites hang out in the anus and espe-
cially around the genitals. Chances
are, if your partner’s sick and you put
your mouth on their butthole, you’ll
end up as sick or sicker. Using a den-
tal dam might be awk, but it’s worth
it if you don’t want hepatitis. Saran
wrap or a cut-up condom can work,
too. Rim jobs aren’t necessarily just
for foreplay; according to my friends,
a powerful tongue can produce an
orgasm before further penetration
even happens. And apparently, rusty
trombones—or simultaneous hand-
and rim-jobs—can do great things
for penis-possessors near ’n far.
The point? Don’t knock it—or
slander the sphincter, so to speak—
unless you’ve tried it. And if you plan
on trying it, do it through a layer of
latex and with a consenting partner
who’s read up on the relative risks
and pleasures of the rectal realm.
personal conversations and second-
hand reports of noises emerging
from his bedchamber suggest that it
would be well worth your while.
xoxo,
Lovecraft
Dear MAYBE,
I hate to say it, but Lovecraft
and I have been less intimate than
your average frat pledges. While
a gorgeous woman, she remains a
woman (and one that is happily in a
relationship). While Lovecraft and I
have been able to talk about sex and
cuddling, it is only the latter that
we have engaged in. That said, both
of us have made the beast with two
backs. Just not with one another.
Your Friendly Neighborhood
Shag,
Dorian
Questions? Ask anonymously at
formspring.me/lovecraftdorian