Life » Culture

Fiz - 12.28.05

One lump or two?

Hey, Lazybones! Are you too damn attractive for your stupid job? Do you believe in your heart of hearts that somewhere out there is a special person just dying to pay off your credit cards? Maybe you're not sure how to satiate this nagging sense of entitlement. Fortunately, the Internet is always there for you, even if the rest of us think you should consider pulling your own weight.

Over at --- "Where the classy, attractive, and affluent can meet" --- are a gaggle of men and women ready to indulge in some mutually beneficial activities between those who have and those who want. Visitors to the site can search for Sugar Daddies and Sugar Mommies who "like to spoil and pamper," or if you're an aspiring Sugar Parent, you can peruse the selection of Sugar Babes itching for your financial affection.

Among those up for sugar adoption are Educatedpunk, a 26-year-old Wisconsinite who works in nuclear physics and whose photo shows him blow-drying his skyscraping Mohawk while wearing a tux, as well as Honeykisses84, a 21-year-old Californian "looking for a long-term benefactor" but who is "not an escort or prostitute --- I expect to not be treated like one." And one woman's sugar biological clock seems to be ticking: Sallysugar, a 41-year-old bisexual divorcee, already has two sugar kids, but she'd like another --- preferably "a nice young lady since they make much better shopping buddies."

Sure, it seems slightly seedy, but who are we to judge? "Companionship" has a wholesome and law-abiding ring to it, and loopholes that you can drive a tank through make this country what it is. --- which will soon team up with MTV for a reality show --- really just goes to prove the old adage: you scratch my back, I'll scratch up yours.

--- Dayna Papaleo

Meow, meow, meow

Where, oh, where did people get the idea that animals can sing?

We're not talking about birdsong here or even the mournful yodel of the coyote. This is not about the sounds of nature with all their bizarre effluvia, from whale song to chittering grasshoppers.

If it floats your boat to buy from those soundscape kiosks that always seem to be waiting innocently enough until some poor unsuspecting passer-by triggers their sensor, then please pursue your need. And, let me point out for the unenlightened, Alvin and his fellow chipmunks were not really chipmunks. We can leave it to your imagination how the vocal effect was achieved, but castrati were not employed according to an official Capitol representative.

I'm talking the Singing Dogs, the Jingle Cats, and whatever other heinous animals feel moved to semi-melodious vocalizing.

The original Singing Dogs (Caesar, King, Pearl, and Dolly --- Pussy rounded out the group on later recordings) started in Copenhagen in 1955 when Danish sound engineer Carl Weismann spliced together tapes which had been ruined by nearby dogs barking. Eureka! I have created... Jingle Bells! Bwa-ha-ha-ha! The recording was a huge hit for RCA/Victor, managing to resurface periodically and sell again to the next generation of entranced listeners. As if people will listen to any heavily altered animal sounds, the Singing Dogs have had to face many attempts to knock them from their pedestal.

The Jingle Cats have lately ruled the den, selling a disturbing two million copies worldwide. Mike Spalla, musician and owner of 19 cats, decided to record his freeloaders. Binky is the lead. We have their success (and our own dollars) to thank for the emergence of the Jingle Dogs, spawned from their cameos on Jingle Cats recordings. Their newest album, King of the Woof, will be out in 2006. May Santa's reindeer leave something special on your roof next Christmas if you buy it.

--- Craig Brownlie