First, some groovin' music to celebrate the end of our hibernal slumber.
* It's officially spring, and not because of the vernal equinox, but because of the first clear signal that the mating season has begun. This is the first week in a long time that I can remember going to '80s night, which draws a college-aged crowd, and being slammed by the aroma of ovulating girls. I noticed this when I first started going there, and to the teen dance club, about a year ago, but when late fall and winter arrived -- nothing. It's not the internal temperature of the clubs, as they've always been hot and muggy as hell.
Scientists have such a tough time detecting the obvious seasonal patterns in human reproductive state and behavior because they look at underlying hormones, such as testosterone or estrogen, rather than surface-level traits. That's how we tell that dogs have seasonal patterns -- they go into heat. Who needs to measure one hormone within the complicated system? They just need to find someone with a discriminating nose -- like, I don't know, me -- to rate the intensity of the ovulatory smell of a room full of young girls. I'm certain this will vary strongly by season, with a peak sometime in spring or summer.
* Social and cultural conservatives like to complain about the influence that gays have on our popular culture, from androgenous stick-like fashion models to ... well, that's about the only good example they can give. After a reality check, we see that it's the stupidest idea you've ever heard. If gays had such a strong influence, we'd see a lot more disco-type music, a greater celebration of classical music and ballet, and Dead White Males. Our culture is instead dominated by the tastes of lower-class stooges who prefer bottle blondes, big fake tits, and tanned leathery skin. No fag would give us Pamela Anderson, but they sure do idolize Audrey Hepburn.
Now that the weather is nice, I thought I'd invest in a nice pair of roller skates for when I go to the nearby park. No luck. Most sporting goods stores don't even carry them, although I did find one that offered a hunk of cheap junk for $45. Even inline skates are hard to find, and all of them have hard boots so that you can't move your ankles. They sell about fifty-thousand types of running shoes, though, in case you want to minimize your fun and destroy your joints when you're being active. Bunch of marathon-training dopes.
I bought an mp3 player (a first) so I could listen to some upbeat music for when I eventually find a good pair of skates. However, not a single store that sells CDs had Madonna's first, eponymous album, which is her best and most danceable. The closest I could find was a compilation album with most of the really good songs from her first two albums, plus some other bullshit up through the Vogue era, and for this I had to go to a used CD store.
If gays ruled our culture, I'd be able to find a quality pair of roller skates and Madonna's first album within a single afternoon, rather than have to order them online like some weirdo.