Some People Don’t Have It – Belly Dancing Dignity and EU Membership

Some people don’t have it, others are ravaged by it, and if you can’t tell already – I am referring to the ability to wiggle ones eyebrows independently.

I don’t mean they can wriggle their eyebrows free from express command by higher authorities, more so that they can make the right eyebrow wriggle, as well as it’s sister.

Yes, I do believe that each eyebrow has a gender. My right is a dude, my left is his female fellow.

They are both entirely independent from each other, with separate social circles and professional squares.

Some people can’t do this. But they can dilate their nostrils.

I cannot dilate my nostrils, despite a vast amount of time doing…something (let’s call it ‘effort’) at the bathroom mirror (poor thing).

Both my wife and my boss can do this.

I however, can belly dance; whereas they can’t even watch.

I remember realising I could make my belly roll at a dinner party of my parents. The conversation was flowing, which was a shame as it was so dull, and I found myself as a last resort (forgive me, only being a young child, I was not mature enough to be so bored).

So, I just wondered if I could command my stomach to flip-flop in a manner that might cause halt to the conversation that was flowing like the dribble that such drivel rhymes with, and then I did it.

Soon I was on the table, feet amongst potatoes (as a young boy should – though normally not mashed), and tummy in the air, like a patriot of physiology and very keen to continue.

And things really haven’t changed since.

The belly dance is a tremendous tool as it is both as conversation stooped and starter – this being why I call it ‘corking’.

Some fellow of mine might be conversing at me, very face-first, about Brexit. I then say “Hey pal, look at midriff” and he’ll respond with: “Wowee Sam, good for you! It’s like Brexit, right? And another thing…”

I must admit my belly dance has been ineffective against Brexit and its constant production of dull argument, though I persist.

I belly dance in the face of democracy.

The problem with democracy is that it enables a majority of people to make a really bad decision.

That follows with a response to my theory, with the counter: “Are you saying that the majority of people are stupid?”

Of course they are, have you met people? Have you met the modern person? The average man in the street…doesn’t. Choose your topic of purposeful action, any at all, because the answer is ‘no they don’t’.

And we’re sinking into a quagmire of circumstance in which the talent of the nation is buggering off, and those that got us into this mess are expecting those whom voted Remain to get us back out of it.

Nevertheless, talent like this guy and his stomach aren’t going anywhere.

Particularly when I want to take a swipe at Remoaners too.

Uninformed of a separate selection of facts, those that berate the majority of the nation, such as I just did, could really do with a bit more experience outside of their preference.

Snobbiness is the worst failing of the British people, and the Remain campaign demonstrated that from the beginning. That is why it failed and that is why it is inherently unlikeable.

One thing that is guaranteed about the Brexiteers is that it has that feeling of blind romantic adventure. “Let’s do this and see what happens! We can make the best of it! Freedom!”

Whilst these sentiments may be based in untruths, the attraction remains – more so than the UK has within Europe.

European membership should have been celebrated whilst we had it. We all benefited, and could have improved our standing too, and now we are without, divided, and horrified by the fact that both sides were right and wrong in an ugly blend of uniformed ignorance and inexperienced ignorance.

Nationalism can be a wonderful thing if we could all have just gotten along.

Your loss. I’m a patriot to the side, proud of the best bits and eager to improve the rest, whilst unashamedly keen to make the most out of things for my neighbour and me.

Britain will be easy pickings for a belly dancer like me, beginning with the number one industry in the UK.

Drizzle.

Not just a rainy mist apparently named by Snoop Dog, but a source of national unity akin to red phone booths, bizarre humour, bad teeth, and a reaction of chat-ceasing awe in the face of my belly dancing.

The drizzle industry is going to make a killing this year, and I want a piece of that soggy pie.

Patriots will have it shipped in, using it to obscure their neighbours, keep the laundry soggy like a Briton, and mystify the Mrs in association with a stiff upper lip and stiffer stiffy.
And it is during this kind of conversation you and I are having (thanks for contributing) in which I as a youngster first found cause and ability to belly dance.

I’m sure, whilst taking part in this conversation today, you’ve already found yourself trying it too.

Good job, see you on the drizzly other side.

Sam

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Alternative Uses For Body Parts Since It’s That Kind Of Day.

I was trying to find out what else I could do with my hamstrings.

Perhaps a bow and arrow?

I’ve got the bone and sinew (whatever that might be) and aside from that I think all you really need are…arrows. I don’t know how to make a bow and arrow, but I do know how to make a mess and I assume that in making a bow out of your own body is going to have some sort of mess made in the process. So I can at least know it looks like I know what I’m doing.

Note here that I’m not trying to encourage some sort of Hannibal Lector- Buffalo Bill- let’s grab a shovel- situation. But…it’s my bones and sinew; I’ll do what I want with it. Plus I’m thinking of getting into archery.

There’s roughly eight pence worth of gold in the average adult human body- that could be the first prize in the archery contest, and I’m only going to be using my legs out of passion, rather than the logistics of competing, so it’s not like my hamstrings are essential.

I also feel that the human brain could be used as some sort of cushion.

So could the human arse.

Combine the two and you have a seat which is made from brains and buttocks. No need to joke about it being a clever-arse or anything, because this is serious. And only slightly funny.

This whole topic stems from a personally held belief that holding a donor card doesn’t just apply to when you’re dead. It applies to helping out as best you can…aesthetically.

If you don’t need it- donate it to those that do. Like noses. If you’re not a chef, fireman, or parent…you don’t need it. I could have that nose of yours…but then I don’t really need it either, but I might give it to that man I saw once who had no nose.

How did he smell? He couldn’t- he had no nose you insensitive fucker! Think next time! And give him your nose- you’re not even a chef. Unless of course you are a chef…in which case…you’re a chef…keep your nose on.

If you’re worried about this inspiring someone to go outside and start acquiring pieces of their neighbours for the benefit of the rest of nation…don’t. It’s ok…it’s philosophy. It’s just philosophy.

Philosophy is not something to be applied- you’re thinking of that thing known as: ‘good advice’.

‘Good advice’ (as I believe it’s called) is something that can really get you along in life. Like being advised on the timeless lessons of ‘one’ and the subsequent result following the addition of other numbers, or the one about wearing a condom.

Wearing a condom and adding is not philosophy, it is the best advice for most people, unless you want to easily lose count of how many times you get the clap.

Philosophy is about a subject to think about. Indeed, philosophy itself is something to think about- you can tell by the way that it is something we are currently thinking about. Ergo (Oh yes- ergo)…it’s philosophy.

Of course, you can think about the entire components of ‘good advice’- therefore making it philosophy. But people tend to develop their own philosophy as they make their way through life, which tends not to help. If you go purely by this, rather than by the ‘good advice’ that will come at you through life, then you will have a tendency to not develop as fully as you might. ‘Good advice’, works, as it comes from those who also have adopted ‘good advice’ from others. It is learned lessons that breakthrough when people are open to listening, for their own good.

Aside from this we have the extremely useful human body part which is- hair.

‘Hair The Applicable’ would be its adventurer’s name, should hair ever decide to leave the walled city (and head/barbershop) to see the world and seek it’s fortune.

Hair can be made into rope, string, cloth, and when matted and stiffened it can be made into anything- like a car door frame or a toy horsey. A fairly shit car door frame and toy horsey, but still good to a degree that they can be referred to as such.

Mainly though it is used as stuffing, as the best thing tend to be.

What other things are used as stuffing? How about stuffing, Sherlock? Checkmate. Everyone’s favourite turkey interior.

Not to suggest that stuffing is a human body part. But most of us is…stuffing…just with a few more applications. Take the intestines as a mighty example. They perform an important function in that they aid digestion and transportation of waste, but mainly it’s important because if it wasn’t there then we’d all be a little more hollow and at the moment this is a negative.

You know what our species is like. If we find a hollow, we have to fill it…you’ve heard what some people will put up their butts (and good for them), imagine what people will put into their lower-belly cavity. Until that area can be appropriately used as a storage/containment area for things aside from intestines…I’m afraid we’re going to have to move on.

What would you keep there? It’d likely have to be ‘intestine-y’. Basically my Punch and Judy sausages (I’m a natural puppeteer- Philadelphia Airport security certainly thought so).

I wonder if we sewed an extra hand to the wrist of a willing deaf-person; would they become 50% more articulate. They’d probably just become verbose, shouting/thrusting at me in sign language: “Fucking stupid idea”, as I guiltily put down my needle and thread.

I’m glad hair doesn’t bleed when you cut it- it’d just make your barber’s wetter in red.

The main circumstance that I’m trying to put across here is that we should share more often, especially since body parts are harder to come by when you’re not involved in the battle of the Somme (plenty of body parts, plenty of call for them).

You’re going to die, and when you do so, you might like to know slightly beforehand that your hair will fill the beds of a humanitarian aid camp, or that your left eyeball might see again in the socket of a child who gets to ride a bike like all the other kids now. Your hand would be an awesome thing to leave behind, although maybe we should leave that for now as the robotic technology is pretty impressive.

Although I would have to say that whereas robotic hands are cool, it would be much cooler to say the following:

“Hey. I see you looking at my hand. You like it? It’s his”

Once more…this is a hell of a conversation starter.

Sam