Truth Talk

I have a confession to make. Every so often I start feeling terrible. I get headaches, I feel nauseated, and I have a hard time leaving the house on account of the strong inclination I have to get punchy with everyone I see. In case you’re wondering, this affliction hits me every four weeks or so… and every single time it happens, I forget that it’s just Mother Nature hocking a giant loogie in my face that smells like chronic irritability and feels like knives in my uterus. Oh menstruation, you are a cruel bitch mother. Sometimes, when you’re especially lucky like me, the planets and stars will align and you’ll not only be gifted your monthly disaster, but you’ll also be faced with a major life change. If you’re an actual adult, this might mean having a child (disgusting), or getting married (meh); but if you’re me, then this probably means something along the lines of collapsing the perma-box-fort in your living room to pack up your extensive trade paperback collection and moving across town to a new house. Because I’m lucky like that, this week I was not only bestowed with my monthly inconvenience, but I got to move. I blame the convergence of these two events for the already convoluted mess that is my column this week. I can’t really explain the reasons why the following tidbit caught my eye. Suffice to say, I’m running on the fumes of exhaustion that’s peppered with cramps of both the upper-back and lower-torso variety. Let’s get on with it, shall we?

Zhang Biqing, a man who is my new hero, has built his very own fortress of motherfucking solitude on top of a building in China. Biqing, who made his fortune by building a very successful acupuncture empire, purchased the penthouse of a twenty-six floor apartment building, and then renovated it to be a glorious, solid stone middle finger to the rest of the world. has reported that authorities have attempted to serve him with an eviction notice but have been unsuccessful, as they can’t even find him. Apparently the Chinese government doesn’t have the respect and wonderment that I do at this genius show of fanatical misanthropy.

Lastly, I’d like to leave you with something disgusting. Foodbeast has reported that both testicles and anuses have taste receptors… yup. Disgusting. According to their site, “Scientists discovered the unusual taste receptors while studying fertility in rats, and they know that taking away male rats’ testicular taste receptors rendered them permanently sterile.” So while we don’t know what the evolutionary necessity of taste buds located in the anus might be (except to bolster the flavored-condom market), it is pretty interesting. Don’t go shoving your favorite foods up your b-hole just yet though (unless you’re into that type of thing—in which case, go nuts), because the taste receptors in your anus and testicles aren’t anywhere as powerful as those on your tongue. That’s all for this week; please excuse me while I take a handful of Tylenol and lie on my (new!) bathroom floor while I wait for these cramps to subside.

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Zooey Mae has been working as a writer monkey for Synthesis Weekly since 2007. Her favorite things include (but are not limited to), Jeffrey Brown, bubble wrap, Craig Thompson, pillow forts, receiving handwritten letters, and whiskey. She spends her free time stockpiling supplies for the impending robot Apocalypse and avoiding eye contact with strangers.