Got Vampire Sex? No.

Vampire Porn spoiler alert.

The Twilight books contain no sex. This is especially shocking because the books are essentially paragraph after paragraph of foreplay with a little blood letting mixed in for spice.

I'm only half way through book four but let me summarize the plot for those of you who are not drooling over the books between multiple viewing of High School Musical 3:

Angst. Mope. Oh Hottie. Ahh Vampire! Mmmmm Vampire! Love. Love. Love. Love. TRAGEDY. Depression. Doom. Whining. Angst. LOVE. Love. Maybe they'll get it on. Love. Love. Minor scary bit. Survived! Totally time for sex now. LOVE. Oh. I see we're going to be all chivalrous about the pootang. FINE. Wedding. Yawn. OK SEXY TIME IS NOW. Skinny dipping! HERE COMES THE BOOTY! Morning After. Wait.... let me go back a page. wtf? W? T? F? I WANT MY NAUGHTY VAMPIRE SMUT!

Now obviously I was super upset to find out that the books would be skipping over all of the good stuff, but mostly I was worried about the children. I know we usually give all of the hormone credit to teenage boys, but naughty girls need love too. And while the lads have Hustler and The Girls Next Door and looking up "fine art" in the encyclopedia, lassies are left with far fewer options for scratching the hormonal itch, so I think it's especially cruel for these books to be such a cunt tease.

I may be 30 years old, but I promise you that I am very in touch with the pulse of adolescence. A friend once even told me that I was perpetually 15 years old and, though this is the biggest insult ever and a curse worse than death, it makes me uniquely qualified to speak on behalf of teenage girls everywhere in the following letter to Stefanie Meyers, the author of the Twilight series:

Dear Stef,

I am 14 years old. My life already sucks A LOT. I have acne and braces and all of the boys in my school are losers. My parents have installed Net Nanny™ on the family computer. It will be at least 4 years until I go off to college where, god willing, no one will ever find out that my mom still only buys me Barbie panties because college boys are way too mature to pants someone in the lunch line. If they even have lunch lines in college which they probably do not because everyone is too busy drinking coffee and writing poetry to care about tater tots. Anyways. All I wanted. Nay, all I NEEDED to get me through high school was a little sweet vicarious vampire loving. Why must you deny me this you evil Mormon harpy?

Sincerly,
Every 14 Year Old Girl In America (except the slutty ones)

But this letter speaks not only for the girl next door but for the girl next door to 1601 Pennsylvania Ave. According to US Weekly, Barack is reading Twilight with his daughters. I'm going to ignore the fact that this is the single creepiest thing since Purity Balls and just say that I am 100% certain that Barack does not want to have to teach his little girl about the vampire loving and that he would be super happy if Ms. Meyer's would just do that for him. Unfortunately, she hates freedom.

Certain that there were some patriotic perverts out on the web, I did what any independent adult with unfettered access to the internet would do. I began searching for fan fiction. Surely someone had taken care of Meyer's oversight with a little vampire P in the human V short story action and perhaps my good deed of the millennium could be distributing this smut to junior high students nationwide. So I sorted through every Twilight themed entry on the Adult Fan Fic site (putting myself at great risk of spoiling the ending of book four I might note). There were werewolf on vampire stories, group vampire orgy stories, vampires as cowboy lover stories and even one vampire on Hogwarts entry. (I AM NOT KIDDING ). But apparently NO ONE has thought to write the most obvious and necessary of all perverted internet content: hot young virgin gets more than bitten.

And so I say, Internet Perverts, This is your big chance to do what Ms. Meyers could not! The Twilight movie comes out today, this shit is about to go VIRAL and you could ride its coat tails. Get to ye olde keyboard and start typing up that smut because I promise you that whomever can capture the passion of "Edward and Bella: Horizontal Feasting" will be the most famous creepy dude on the tubes. You might even get a cabinet post.

Road Trip: Las Vegas to Bishop, CA

There are at least 3 roads leading from civilization to my hometown of Bishop, CA and all of them travel through the middle of desolation. There are very few towns, very few other cars and no cell phone service. The closest airport is four hours away in Reno but nonstop flights are practically nonexistent and even the flights with detours in Denver (not my favorite place ) are usually super pricey. I tend to start my drive in Las Vegas where flight costs are subsidized by the casinos and the drive home is an hour longer.

I made this drive on Saturday in a rented PT Cruiser even though I had been promised an inconspicuous Ford Focus. This is the 3rd time a rental car company has stuck me with a surprise cruiser and I have to assume this is some elaborate practical joke for the people of Hertz.

Once you escape the clutches of Vegas suburbs you can kiss civilization goodbye. You'll pass through the Las Vegas Paiute reservation and the Air Force base in Indian Springs which skirts the edge of Area 51. There will not be any aliens or government secrets to spy on -- only a minimart with the claim of "Last Gas Before Area 51!" One assumes that aliens have access to alternative fuels.

The only real town you'll pass through is Beatty which, though it was once featured on an episode of that Aaron Spelling SNL show as a rough and tumble cowpoke town, is actually an old mining town which now is mostly occupied by the gas station Eddie's World. I discovered Saturday that they're laying claim to the title "most beautiful gas station in the world" which I guess might be true -- they do have a turret outside. I tried to twitter from here with that sunset picture on the left but it turns out Beatty is not exactly iphone friendly. For some reason the market at Eddie's World specializes in bulk dry goods. There are no nut trees, gummy bear factories or pea plants within 200 miles of the outpost but the store is filled with 2lbs bags of snack food. I bought some rice crackers on the theory that they were more healthy than corn nuts which is probably not at all true.

Outside of Beatty the road is peppered with whore houses my favorite of which (yeah, I have a favorite whore house, doesn't everyone?) is "The Shady Lady" which is housed in a trailer. I guess I can imagine some trucker needing some loving on the road and even imagine maybe paying for it (imagine, not condone) but I'd think that even a dirty trucker dude would be all "a trailer? HELL NO." Apparently not.

There are two ways to get from Beatty to Bishop, the normal way and the Horst Klemm way. Dad's way is admittedly about 50 miles shorter than the other way but it also takes you along a windy mountain road that prohibits speeds in excess of crawling so I fid his claims that it's faster somewhat dubious. The road is also famous for making people who don't usually get car sick demand frequent puke break (and by people I mean me). This has no effect on Dad's insistent that this be the road of choice for my entire childhood. Regardless of the speed and high probability of barfing I'm enough of Daddy's girl to always take his road -- assuming I can find it. The turn off appears suddenly in the middle of dessert, it used to be marked by the Cottentail Ranch (that's ranch as in "we have girls who will sleep with you for money" not, "we have cows") but that was raised a couple of years ago and now I have to consider the implications of not being able to find my way home without the becon of a brothal to light my way.

CA 168 travels through the White Mountains and would be beautiful if i didn't drive it every time I wanted to go to Wet Seal from the ages of 10-18. In the 85 miles from NV to the 395 turn off in CA I passed 4 other cars and almost ran over 2 mice, a rabbit and a fox. I also almost got into 45 car accidents as I tried to push the PT above 45 on curve after curve. I eventually made it to town, passed the radio station, the BBQ Bills, the feed store with a huge red horse statue outside, the garish dutch bakery in the middle of town, the sad empty former home of KMart, and my parents house. It was probalby worth the 11 hours of travel time.

A Memorandum on Product Quality

As many of our loyal readers have likely noticed the quality of writing here at Random Access Babble (RAB, Inc.) has diminished over the last few months to the point of "sucking a whole fucking lot." For those of you who doubt this claim please just continue reading; this post is actually a fabulous example of how awful our writing has become.

We want to assure you that at RAB we consider content quality a serious issue, one that we respond to almost as quickly as J Crew sales, free ice cream and any opportunity picture Tim Riggens shirtless. In that spirit we have begun taking steps to respond to the overall crappiness that has descended upon this site and are happy to share these steps with you, our loyal supporters.

We have reached out to Underworld, Inc. to apply for their standard soul exchange program. Unfortunately, in these trying times, the company is overwhelmed with offers and we have thus far been unable to secure a meeting. It appears that the market is saturated with daemons running around hocking high quality Jewish, Muslim, Christian and even the once rare Mormon souls. As a result atheist souls have plummeted in value. We are considering adopting a religion in an effort to increase the value of our soul but are sad to report that this will be a lengthy process. Most religions require a lengthy waiting period before souls are officially acknowledged as converted. Readers should also be aware that religious conversion rarely results in an improved sense of humor so it is, unfortunately, highly likely that things will get worse before they get better.

We know that many of our investors have bought into the rumors that our merger with Boyfriend Limited is the main cause of diminished quality here at RAB. We want to assure you that we hear your concerns and while there is some merit to these claims we consider Boyfriend a long term investment that will only increase the value of RAB products over time. While the early stages of the merger have been riddled with rainbows, googly eyes, and mush, all of which have proven worthless in the humor writing industry, we know Boyfriend well and fully expect him to fuck up lots of future shit. Furthermore, if things continue to progress with Boyfriend we anticipate such shenanigans as Cohabitation, Procreation and eventually Widowing all of which are ripe for the kind of tragedy that RAB has historically turned into mega profits.

Like so many modern businesses RAB is facing budgetary concerns. It is increasingly more difficult to produce the kind of hilarious shit you people expect on a budget of mere compliments. As always the most effective way for you to increase the quality of posts here at RAB is to send us a big fat check. We promise to squander these riches on "life experiences" that are sure to result in hilarity.

In closing we want to assure you that RAB has no intention of throwing an internet fit and declaring our retirement. We made a commitment years ago to running this thing into the ground and we fully intend to keep that promise. Regardless of quality you can rest assured that this URL will continue to host words and sentences and, occasionally, whole paragraphs.

Sincerely,
Brianna
CEO RAB Inc.

Hello Cake Wreck Folks

Thanks to the ever brilliant "Anonymous" for the link. In honor of your visit a few of my own thoughts on Sandra's fabulous no bake cake idea.



1. I'm shocked she is opposed to dog's poo-ing on cake, is dog poo *really* that different than cornnuts?
2. I am *Shocked* that Sandra is unwilling to whore herself out for Walmart. And also shocked that Walmart hasn't already contacted her to sponsor a line of Easy Bake Foie Gras. It's so sad when soul mates pass in the night.
3. I'm glad to see that Sandra is continuing her PHD level studies in Sprinkle Mastery

My old Sandra Lee posts can be found here:

Sandra Lee Is Food's Natural Enemy
The Devil Comes to Kwanzaa

Game Rage

My Name is Brianna and it has been 7 days since I last shot a stream of expletives at my television screen and even less time since I last sat on the couch in full pout over the spilled milk of an unmastered video game level.

I like to think of myself as relatively level headed. I rarely yell at G even though he is constantly spitting loogies in the sink and/or not buying me presents. Even more impressively I have managed to not kill a single person despite 30 years of being surrounded by idiots. And yet video games which should be only inconsequential dalliances all too often leave me foaming at the mouth.

Last weekend G and I spent most of our time obsessively playing Little Big Planet the remaining few weekend hours were spent on whining. I'm embarrassed to admit that we got stuck on one of the earlier levels (the last one in the Day of the Dead theme). The first thing you need to understand is that this level was really hard. It has this stupid part where you have to jump from platform to platform over a sea of deadly noxious gas followed by more platforms hanging by bungee cords from the ceiling that you have to make bounce in perfect rhythm in order to catapult your sack person across more poisonous fog. Expecting any video game player to rely on rhythm is overtly cruel -- there is a reason I am sitting on the couch with a controller in my hand not out shaking it at the club. The second thing you need to understand is that I might wrap a bit too much of my ego up in video game performance.

I created this flow chart to explain the common progression from "This is SO FUN!" to "I accidentally threw the PlayStation down the stairs."

Step Off Ho

So it turns out my (ok, G's) Wii Fit is a huge bitch who may or may not be making a play for my man.

Exhibit A:



Now it is true that I have been.... less than strict with my diet and *ahem* work out plan (read: walking lots of places...) since oh, say... May. And it's also true that I have not hung out with Wii Fit since September but I still think the behavior that is being exhibited here is cruel in the extreme and I fear that soon the Wii will declare war. How far could we be from the following:

• Does Brii get up in the morning and make you coffee? A) Occasionally, B) No, she mostly lies in bed whining about me making coffee, C) Ha! She's too busy complainging that the coffee I make her isn't good enough, D) She doesn't let me have caffine, or happiness.
• Brii sure is a bitch about waking you up when you snore, do you think a perfect girlfriend would do that? (note: machine's don't need sleep and therefore would not even consider disturbing the slumber of their significant other): A) Probably not...., B) No, never, C) Real woman are turned on by a little manly snoring, D) Wii Fit, You're looking mighty sexy this morning
• My oh my, you're looking awfully handsome today, did Brii mention that? A) She says looks don't matter to her..., B) No, but she said my outfit choice was iiiiinteresting, that's good, right? C) She said something about me not looking enough like some dude named Riggins, C)Oh Wii Fit, your'e so sweet, let's run away together!