Have you ever decided to find something that you can’t find? When this condition becomes extreme, I think it’s a disorder, but I forgot what it’s called. If you look in the same drawer three times in a row, it may then be OCD, but I’m going to call it “desperate.”

I spent nearly an hour looking for something that should have been where it used to be, but now it’s gone. I may have hidden it so cleverly that I’ll never find it. Someone will eventually find it when I’m dead. I hope they’ll find a way to   send a message to me just to solve the mystery.

While I was looking, I did come across my copy of Lady Athlete, a tawdry old bodybuilding magazine in which I appeared as one half of “Sisters in Iron.”   My sister and I lifted weights together at the old Gold’s Gym, where we were a constant annoyance to everyone except the owner, who named us Morticia and Vampira.

We agreed to be in the magazine on condition that all photos were taken in the gym. We were stupid but not stupid enough to pose in bikinis for perverts. When the magazine came out, we each got a free copy. I remember laughing until we cried at the demented text, which was full of lies and described us approaching the weights like “animals stalking their prey.”   They also described us as moving together “like a well-oiled machine,” which was funny because we argued continuously.

So I found the magazine and wondered if it still existed.   A Google search took me straight here to ebay, where some guy happens to have one copy of my issue! If only he’d show the back cover, where I’m gripping a dumbbell with a look of perfect serenity on my face.

Anyone wishing to blackmail me can buy this magazine for only $21.25!

Still feeling annoyed and unfulfilled, I tried to find comfort in sanctimonious rage over at Dan Savage‘s blog. I knew he’d be furious about something. While there, I read a letter that took me here, to AVEN, the Asexuality Visibility and Education Network.

As it turns out, there’s a whole new world of human rights we haven’t even worried about! Asexual people don’t want to be marginalized, godammit! Just because they don’t want sex, they are just as god made them and deserve whatever it is they want.

I know you’re all feeling the same as me: More sex for the rest of us! Who would knock it?! Listening to the Dresden Dolls while I type this, I think I would like to have sex with both of them, as a gesture of support for AVEN.

The other day, when I saw this picture in a magazine, I asked my husband, “What do you think of Madonna’s arms?” His reply was something like “I don’t think anything about her arms.”

In his defense, he was driving and I was looking at a magazine. But he refused to discuss Madonna’s arms, as though it was beneath him to even talk about it. I tried to explain that Madonna’s arms weren’t just arms; they were big muscular man-arms.

He starting getting really pissed off and shouted “Look, I don’t have an opinion oh her arms. I don’t hate her like you do, okay?”

Well, not okay, actually. Isn’t this so like a man?   My feeling is, If you don’t have an opinion, FORM ONE! The good lord gave you the faculties of eyesight and cognitive awareness, so it’s not too much to ask for you to have a fucking opinion!

My opinion is that those arms are not necessary unless she is going into professional bodybuilding or construction work. As a former weight-lifter I can tell you that those arms are no accident. You need to lift very heavy weights to develop such big arms, and you need to do it at least 3 times a week. I wouldn’t even be surprised if Madge was taking just a pinch of steroids, or maybe she’s just a High Testosterone Girl as well as a Material one.

Are Madonna’s arms bigger than your boyfriend’s? Do they make you mad? Let me know, unless you’re too manly to discuss it.