Monday, May 05, 2008

Man Genitals! Lady Genitals!

For the most part, this post concerns work, but yes, the title is accurate nonetheless. At some point, I will mention both sets of interlocking bits.

First, before the genitals, however, you must endure the boring stuff. (You know, like in real life.)

Thought my primary duties at work concern the editing and occasional writing of news, I also must post content online — news-related or not. (On a good week, less on the not.) Any given story looks better with an image attached to it, or so I'm told, so I must also sometimes hunt down an appropriate photo to slap online along with the given chunk of text. We have a staff photographer, Paul, but frequently the online-only content is not important enough to actually merit sending him out to snap a photo. For example, there’s this post — this week’s installment of EcoFacts, a collection of environmentally minded tidbits that recently started appearing on our site. It concerns mushrooms. I like Paul too much to ask the question, “Paul, would you mind going out and taking a photo of a mushroom? I don’t know where any might be specifically, but I feel like you could check any number of dank places to find one.” Paul would hit me. Well, at leats I would hit me if I asked such a request of myself. So, given that I don’t want to be Paul-pummeled, I’m left with two options: Either check for images of mushrooms at a clip art website we have access to or seek through any photos I might already have — taken by Paul, taken by me with my personal camera — that could work.

In general, clip art sucks. I could search for images tagged with the keyword "mushroom" and end up with something like this:


Which is great if I'm decorated a pamphlet for some elementary school play about mushrooms, and, also, the play is actually terrible and I want to furtively communicate that fact to potential ticker buyers. My publication, however, strives for a base level of dignity that Mr. Smiling Mushroom falls beneath, and clip art is consequently never my first choice.

(A side note — and another reason why I avoid clip art: One of our columnists once wrote a piece about grandparents, and I, in a rush to get it up and be done with work, snagged a clip art image and posted it. Specifically, it was this image:


She was horrified. She asked that I remove it and pointed out that the apparent granddaughter looked more like a homicidal midget who was assaulting an elderly couple. Upon closer inspection, she was right. The grandparents looked like the psychotically grinning old people from the beginning of Mulholland Drive and the demon moppet only brought to mind the end of Don't Look Now. I took the image down.)

It so happens that one of the most viewed articles featuring a photo I took concerns the medical wonderment that is vaginoplasty. (Told you: Genitals are coming.) I've written about the matter before. Aly was actually the one who put the column up and saw fit to include at it top one of the more vaginal-looking specimens that I photographed at the previous orchid show here in Santa Barbara.


With this vagina flower in mind, know that my first attempt to find a suitable photo to go with the mushroom article meant looking in my own Flickr account. The first result:


I thought about it. I really did. But, in the end, I felt that these mushrooms — less phallic than outright penile — were perhaps not things the nice lady who wrote the piece would want to show up on her computer monitor, permanently befouling what might be an entirely virginal computer. Alas, I did not get to make a matching set.

However, in stumbling back on this photo, which I haven't really looked at since just after I returned from Australia, I found that another blogger has added it to a small gallery evidencing nature's tendency to simulate the wang. The link to that, dear friends, is my gift to you on this Cinco de Mayo.

See? Genitals. As promised.

1 comment:

  1. Speaking of genitals, I noticed today that Starbucks has gone back to that original logo. Or at least, the one in IV has.

    Did you know this when you wrote the mermaid post? Should I save a cup for proof?

    ReplyDelete