chatter

First, Lord: No tattoos.

May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged,

for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the crystal meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half

And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance.

Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.”

-Tina Fey

(This is a guest post from Adoma Manful which is too good to not be read and published)

For those of you who don’t know me, I am a self-confessed movie nerd. I will shamelessly admit that I stood in line for close to three hours near a man dressed in full costume to watch The Avengers on opening night. Yes, I love action flicks as much as the next guy. But in a recent discussion with a close male friend of mine, he complained that he wouldn’t talk to any woman about The Avengers movie because they all saw it for the wrong reasons. He argued that at least 95% of all the women who saw The Avengers only did so to see the two Chrises (Hemsworth/Thor and Evans/Captain America). Being a woman myself, I of course immediately took offence. I had been waiting to watch that movie since the rumours circulating about its creation began in 2010. When I saw the 30-second trailer for the movie during the Superbowl XLVI halftime commercials in February, I damn near passed out from the excitement. I proved my point by arguing the finer points of the movie right down the implications of the appearance of Thanos in the post-credits scene. Yet deep in the back of my mind I wonder if my enthusiasm for The Avengers was somewhat augmented by the scenes of gratuitous shirtlessness from its prequels, Thor and Captain America.

I won’t deny it: Chris Hemsworth is hot enough to make even the straightest guy bi-curious. And I don’t know a red-blooded woman who hasn’t secretly lusted after Chris Evans’ body since that scene in Captain America when he is revealed after having been injected with the super soldier serum. While I may have initially set out to see those movies to satisfy the comic-book geek in me, the woman in me could not ignore all that extra skin on display. I am, after all, only human, and if you are anything like me, you will agree that this summer’s movie line-up is proof that the gods of Hollywood are indeed female.

First off, if you still haven’t seen any of the movies in the Marvel Cinematic Universe film franchise do yourself a personal favour and watch one. In fact, watch them all. The superheroes are well- built and good-looking and kick evil’s butt every time. If you like the comic book/ fairytale-turned- movie formula, you might also want to check out Christian Bale as Bruce Wayne/Batman and Tom Hardy (who put on an extra 14kg of muscle for his role as Bane) in The Dark Knight Rises or Andrew Garfield and lovable Emma Stone in the reboot of The Amazing Spiderman. For those of you who can’t get enough of Chris Hemsworth, Thor 2 doesn’t come out till the end next year but you can see him in the Snow White and the Huntsman if you can stomach Kristen Stewart’s wooden acting or in horror flick The Cabin in the Woods alongside fellow sci-fi star Fran Kranz and the ridiculously good- looking Jesse Williams (Dr Jackson Avery from Grey’s Anatomy).

If you prefer remakes, prequels and sequels, this is the summer for you. Prometheus is Ridley Scott’s prequel to the Alien franchise and features Charlize Theron, Michael Fassbender (X-Men: First Class) and Idris Elba (yes that Idris Elba) as part of the crew of a spaceship that discovers the alien creature the franchise is named after. In Total Recall –a remake of the 1990 film of the same name- Colin Farrell plays Douglas Quaid (played by Arnold Schwarzenegger in the original), a factory worker who discovers he is a spy whose memories have been erased and replaced by a corporation that implants artificial memories into its clients’ minds. The Bourne Legacy has the talented Jeremy Renner as Aaron Cross picking up where Jason Bourne left off after the Bourne trilogy. If you loved Renner as Clint Barton/Hawkeye in The Avengers or as IMF Agent William Brandt in Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol you will want to see this movie. If you like your men a little more mature but still badass, The Expendables 2 features just about every action star you remember from the 80s and Liam Hemsworth, Thor’s equally breath-taking little bother.

If, however, all the testosterone of summer blockbusters is a little too much for you, there are still a few options left. What to Expect When You Are Expecting features an ensemble cast of celebrities dealing with various stages of parenthood. J-Lo, Brooklyn Decker and Elizabeth Banks play opposite the likes of Matthew Morrison (Glee), Chase Crawford (Gossip Girl) and Rodrigo Santoro with gratuitous shirtlessness and shameless male sexual objectification provided by sexy True Blood werewolf, Joe Manganiello. Think Like a Man is based on Steve Harvey’s book of the same name, which teaches women how to understand men and get the most out of their relationships. It has all the rom-com classics: naive declarations of love, overly romantic dating montages, penitent admissions of wrong-doing, cheesy proposals, and Michael Ealy’s incredible soulful blue eyes.

But by far this summer’s greatest gift to women has to be Magic Mike. With an all-star list of Hollywood’s finest, it features names like Joe Manganiello from True Blood (again!), Matt Bomer from White Collar, Adam Rodriguez from CSI:Miami and Tyler Perry’s I Can Do Bad All By Myself and real life stripper-turned-actor Channing Tatum from the leading male role in every romantic comedy you have seen in the last year. The movie is partly based on Tatum’s experience as a stripper in Tampa, Florida when he was 19 years old and was directed by the legendary Steven Soderbergh whose previous works include Ocean’s Eleven, Ocean’s Twelve and Ocean’s Thirteen. And if going out to watch scantily clad men get down sounds too scandalous of a reason to admit in public, you can always say you were doing social research into the dangers of a life in the entertainment industry.