9/10/02
2:02am
THE BEGINNINGS OF AN END.....
It's late, I'm tired. I've been playing at sun-bunny and I have a tan/burn to show for it. The sun drains me. I don't know what I was thinking other than how I wanted to go swimming and feel like the vacation I'm supposed to be on. Likely. I updated a friend's website today. It gave me something to do and I felt like I had been useful to someone. All good.
Just finished the second Harry Potter book, the Chamber of Secrets. It was good. Very nice --hmmm. I swear I just saw something go streaking across the floor. At first I thought I was overly tired, but then Pants came chasing after it. Pants on the prowl. How cute.
Crossing the crossfade. Hair triggering the endless void stuck between my ears. I swear I was only CLEANING it and it just went OFF. Not a safe thing to go walking around with a mind full of ideas these days. Man, I need a better place to dwell instead of in my own head.
How the hell did the West Nile Virus get alllllll the way over here? Last time I checked the Nile was a river in EGYPT. I only assume there's no West Nile River hiding in the States, but I could be wrong. There's a West New York, New Jersey, so why not a West Nile, Florida or something like that?
Fragmentation, not just for stories anymore! I either need to get some sleep or get back to work on stories that will pay the bills.
Tuesday, September 10, 2002
Monday, September 09, 2002
9/09/02
12:36am
A LIMO RIDE FROM HELL
Wow. That's all I have to say to start things off. My first limo ride, and what a long strange trip it was. But I suppose I should start from the beginning....
Dante called me up in the middle of an afternoon recovery from watching small spawn of a toothpick I assumed to be woman running aroun a swimming pool and having "lovebugs" landing and copulating all over me. How dirty did I feel? So Dante calls me up and says, 'Hey, there's a party tonight. Do you want to go?'
Sure, I say. Let's. It'll be fun. Haven't been to downtown yet, and this one club sounds promising. He calls me back mere minutes later and says something about a limo. Keen, sez I. I've never ridden in a limo before. The time draws near, I put on my makeup and dress to impress, and we walk over to where we're supposed to be meeting the limo.
One hour of sitting in an empty parking lot later, and having the imprint of a parking block delving across my ass, the limo FINALLY shows up. With a life-size Minnie Mouse doll buckled into the passenger seat. I'm skeeved. Not necessarily because I have anything against Minnie, although I always found her high-pitched bitching akin to nails down a chalkboard, but because it's a WHITE limo. Tacky. Now I know why stars get miffed if they don't have a black limo come pick them up, because let me tell you friends and neighbors, the white limo is truly tasteless.
Even worse was the trip. A mere 20 minute trip turned into the ride from hell. You can SEE the lights of downtown from my house, and yet our driver couldn't have found his way out of a pair of footy-pajamas. The inside was a porn star's dream, complete with tacky mirrored ceiling, a set up for a drink bar with glasses, napkins, and a deliberate absence of alcohol. We got over it. One of our party rolled down his window and lit up a cigarette, and the limo driver told him it was a no-smoking car, to please put it out. Once the cigarette had been thrown out the window, the driver ROLLED UP THE GUY'S WINDOW AND LOCKED IT. Yikes.
Being the folks we are, we try to be cool with this treatment, and we ask for the radio to be turned on so we can start getting geared up for the night. The driver informs us that the radio doesn't work. What about the CD player? That doesn't work either, yet the guy had Eminem's greatest hits playing in the front of the car. He informs us that the televisions work, however, so we ask him how to turn them on. He ignores us for the first three requests. Finally we manage to harass the remote control out of him, and all we can watch is The Littlest Vampire. The ride was quickly becoming like Disney on wheels. A nightmarish hell of Minnie and clean-living. Gag.
We tell the driver the club we want to go to, we give the guy directions all the way there, and the only thing we finally requested adamantly was that he put up the driver's window that separates the driver from the passengers. He informs us that the window will not be put up, that it's company policy.
Honestly now, it was just too much. But wait, it gets even... worse....
We ask him to pick us up in the spot that he left us at, at 2:30am.
We go out, we have fun, and at 2:30 we wait for the limo. Dante and I watched this guy drive by not five minutes before, and the guy kept circling the block without slowing down. 2:30 came and went and our driver was MIA.
3am came, and we finally got a taxi van to take us all home. The antics were mild considering, but we all were somewhat expecting the taxi guy to yell at us for something. The taxi ride didn't need directions, it had a working radio, working windows, ability to smoke, ability to act like maniacs, and at less cost than the limo. Oh yeah, and the taxi was on time.
I felt a familiarity in the limo, it was strange. I was recognized when I went out, which was stranger. But a word of caution to anyone renting a limo: if you have to give the driver directions and they still get lost, get a cab. They never made a good movie about a limo driver, after all.
12:36am
A LIMO RIDE FROM HELL
Wow. That's all I have to say to start things off. My first limo ride, and what a long strange trip it was. But I suppose I should start from the beginning....
Dante called me up in the middle of an afternoon recovery from watching small spawn of a toothpick I assumed to be woman running aroun a swimming pool and having "lovebugs" landing and copulating all over me. How dirty did I feel? So Dante calls me up and says, 'Hey, there's a party tonight. Do you want to go?'
Sure, I say. Let's. It'll be fun. Haven't been to downtown yet, and this one club sounds promising. He calls me back mere minutes later and says something about a limo. Keen, sez I. I've never ridden in a limo before. The time draws near, I put on my makeup and dress to impress, and we walk over to where we're supposed to be meeting the limo.
One hour of sitting in an empty parking lot later, and having the imprint of a parking block delving across my ass, the limo FINALLY shows up. With a life-size Minnie Mouse doll buckled into the passenger seat. I'm skeeved. Not necessarily because I have anything against Minnie, although I always found her high-pitched bitching akin to nails down a chalkboard, but because it's a WHITE limo. Tacky. Now I know why stars get miffed if they don't have a black limo come pick them up, because let me tell you friends and neighbors, the white limo is truly tasteless.
Even worse was the trip. A mere 20 minute trip turned into the ride from hell. You can SEE the lights of downtown from my house, and yet our driver couldn't have found his way out of a pair of footy-pajamas. The inside was a porn star's dream, complete with tacky mirrored ceiling, a set up for a drink bar with glasses, napkins, and a deliberate absence of alcohol. We got over it. One of our party rolled down his window and lit up a cigarette, and the limo driver told him it was a no-smoking car, to please put it out. Once the cigarette had been thrown out the window, the driver ROLLED UP THE GUY'S WINDOW AND LOCKED IT. Yikes.
Being the folks we are, we try to be cool with this treatment, and we ask for the radio to be turned on so we can start getting geared up for the night. The driver informs us that the radio doesn't work. What about the CD player? That doesn't work either, yet the guy had Eminem's greatest hits playing in the front of the car. He informs us that the televisions work, however, so we ask him how to turn them on. He ignores us for the first three requests. Finally we manage to harass the remote control out of him, and all we can watch is The Littlest Vampire. The ride was quickly becoming like Disney on wheels. A nightmarish hell of Minnie and clean-living. Gag.
We tell the driver the club we want to go to, we give the guy directions all the way there, and the only thing we finally requested adamantly was that he put up the driver's window that separates the driver from the passengers. He informs us that the window will not be put up, that it's company policy.
Honestly now, it was just too much. But wait, it gets even... worse....
We ask him to pick us up in the spot that he left us at, at 2:30am.
We go out, we have fun, and at 2:30 we wait for the limo. Dante and I watched this guy drive by not five minutes before, and the guy kept circling the block without slowing down. 2:30 came and went and our driver was MIA.
3am came, and we finally got a taxi van to take us all home. The antics were mild considering, but we all were somewhat expecting the taxi guy to yell at us for something. The taxi ride didn't need directions, it had a working radio, working windows, ability to smoke, ability to act like maniacs, and at less cost than the limo. Oh yeah, and the taxi was on time.
I felt a familiarity in the limo, it was strange. I was recognized when I went out, which was stranger. But a word of caution to anyone renting a limo: if you have to give the driver directions and they still get lost, get a cab. They never made a good movie about a limo driver, after all.
Sunday, September 01, 2002
9/01/02
12:53pm
ONE SMALL STEP FOR ME, ONE GIANT LEAP FOR JUSTIFICATION
One of my former students emailed me. That one email made my experience worthwhile. At least I know one person that I made a difference with. It does my heart good to know that.
The world is not a particularly friendly place and compassion and understanding seem to be foreign words, despite what happened last year. So much for the wakeup call. All we did was hit the snooze button.
I guess after I got the email my goal became a little bit clearer to me. It was always there, stuck in the back of my mind like a dreamthought, but now it's finally up front. Nothing so dramatic as saving the world, I don't have those means, nor does the world want to be saved. How many people have said that's what they wanted to do, though? I think every Miss America has said something akin to World Peace, but how many of them actually go out and attempt to accomplish it? None. Pretty words are fine, I write a lot of pretty words in my spare time, and I have a lot of decent ideas, but I actually set out to accomplish my nice thoughts. That one email shows that I actually DID it, and shows that I can KEEP doing it. My goal: spread more understanding, and CARE. Treat human beings like human beings. Accept them for their talents and not reject them for their failings-- unless of course the failings outweigh the talents, I guess.
Geez.. Golden Earring "The Twilight Zone" just came on We Are the Eighties.
12:53pm
ONE SMALL STEP FOR ME, ONE GIANT LEAP FOR JUSTIFICATION
One of my former students emailed me. That one email made my experience worthwhile. At least I know one person that I made a difference with. It does my heart good to know that.
The world is not a particularly friendly place and compassion and understanding seem to be foreign words, despite what happened last year. So much for the wakeup call. All we did was hit the snooze button.
I guess after I got the email my goal became a little bit clearer to me. It was always there, stuck in the back of my mind like a dreamthought, but now it's finally up front. Nothing so dramatic as saving the world, I don't have those means, nor does the world want to be saved. How many people have said that's what they wanted to do, though? I think every Miss America has said something akin to World Peace, but how many of them actually go out and attempt to accomplish it? None. Pretty words are fine, I write a lot of pretty words in my spare time, and I have a lot of decent ideas, but I actually set out to accomplish my nice thoughts. That one email shows that I actually DID it, and shows that I can KEEP doing it. My goal: spread more understanding, and CARE. Treat human beings like human beings. Accept them for their talents and not reject them for their failings-- unless of course the failings outweigh the talents, I guess.
Geez.. Golden Earring "The Twilight Zone" just came on We Are the Eighties.
Friday, August 30, 2002
8/30/02
10:06am
REASONS FOUND, BUT NOT ENOUGH...
As strange fate would have it, I wasn't writing enough, and so I lost my job. Weird, huh? It's like something decided that I was meant for writing, and so it conveniently took the decisions out of my hands, since I would have stayed on the job and done my best either way. Oh well. Now I have a lot of time on my hands.
Soooo... I can take a hint, Fate. This whole week I'll be keeping myself busy updating the website (yes, all those who sent in submissions, you will finally have your work showcased!) and writing. I've decided it's time to send my novel to an agent or publisher. The web site just isn't selling enough to even keep it running anymore. Now it's all out-of-pocket expenses where before it kept itself running. Sigh.
BUT the great thing is, the site will be revamped and resurrected COMPLETELY. AND it'll have some truly kickass writers and artists featured on it. So I'm pretty psyched. That and I'm hoping to add a cartoon segment to Inanna's Lair. She's been keeping me laughing through my pain and heartache of yesterday. Crazy lil crackhead that she is.
OK. So as not to waste this time I have been given, I'm off for now. In parting I say what everyone has told me: this is setting up for something better.
I hope they're right.
10:06am
REASONS FOUND, BUT NOT ENOUGH...
As strange fate would have it, I wasn't writing enough, and so I lost my job. Weird, huh? It's like something decided that I was meant for writing, and so it conveniently took the decisions out of my hands, since I would have stayed on the job and done my best either way. Oh well. Now I have a lot of time on my hands.
Soooo... I can take a hint, Fate. This whole week I'll be keeping myself busy updating the website (yes, all those who sent in submissions, you will finally have your work showcased!) and writing. I've decided it's time to send my novel to an agent or publisher. The web site just isn't selling enough to even keep it running anymore. Now it's all out-of-pocket expenses where before it kept itself running. Sigh.
BUT the great thing is, the site will be revamped and resurrected COMPLETELY. AND it'll have some truly kickass writers and artists featured on it. So I'm pretty psyched. That and I'm hoping to add a cartoon segment to Inanna's Lair. She's been keeping me laughing through my pain and heartache of yesterday. Crazy lil crackhead that she is.
OK. So as not to waste this time I have been given, I'm off for now. In parting I say what everyone has told me: this is setting up for something better.
I hope they're right.
Saturday, August 24, 2002
8/24/02
7:10pm
THE BEST BOOK IS A BLANK BOOK
OK. So I've been waiting, impatiently I might add, for the Fields of the Nephilim site to finally open and go public. I guess now I know how folks must feel when I don't update the site as often as I should. D'oh.
While I wait for the new FON site to be up and running so I may again immerse myself in fun factoids and trivia about one of the best goth bands EVER to grace the scene, I also attempt to overcome my writer's block, which unfortunately has left me with a need to re-edit my first novel, NEMESIS, yet again.
Oh well. The best book truly is a blank book. At least then I can make a story for each blank book I find. I can literally write the story according to the cover. How cool is that?
Since the website got up and running back in October of 1998, I've met some awesome people I normally would never have gotten a chance to. My friend Eric from Wyndfeather.com is one person that I can truly say has talent. He sent me a copy of his movie, The Unseelie Court, and I have to say, WOW. Buy it. Go to his site and BUY IT. Keep that boy in business, dammit! It gave me chills, it made me think, spirituality and horror all in one neat lil package. I can only hope when it comes time to make NEMESIS it'll come out half as good as Eric's production.
But like I said, today is the day of writer's block.
Dante just came walking in with foil stuck all over his hair.. HAHAHAHAHAhahaahahaaa!!! he looks like that crazy guy that walks the streets of NYC. Wow... no aliens will be reading Dante's thoughts for a while.... LOL. I am told I must get ready so we can go shopping... grrr...
Writer's block, we shall meet again!
7:10pm
THE BEST BOOK IS A BLANK BOOK
OK. So I've been waiting, impatiently I might add, for the Fields of the Nephilim site to finally open and go public. I guess now I know how folks must feel when I don't update the site as often as I should. D'oh.
While I wait for the new FON site to be up and running so I may again immerse myself in fun factoids and trivia about one of the best goth bands EVER to grace the scene, I also attempt to overcome my writer's block, which unfortunately has left me with a need to re-edit my first novel, NEMESIS, yet again.
Oh well. The best book truly is a blank book. At least then I can make a story for each blank book I find. I can literally write the story according to the cover. How cool is that?
Since the website got up and running back in October of 1998, I've met some awesome people I normally would never have gotten a chance to. My friend Eric from Wyndfeather.com is one person that I can truly say has talent. He sent me a copy of his movie, The Unseelie Court, and I have to say, WOW. Buy it. Go to his site and BUY IT. Keep that boy in business, dammit! It gave me chills, it made me think, spirituality and horror all in one neat lil package. I can only hope when it comes time to make NEMESIS it'll come out half as good as Eric's production.
But like I said, today is the day of writer's block.
Dante just came walking in with foil stuck all over his hair.. HAHAHAHAHAhahaahahaaa!!! he looks like that crazy guy that walks the streets of NYC. Wow... no aliens will be reading Dante's thoughts for a while.... LOL. I am told I must get ready so we can go shopping... grrr...
Writer's block, we shall meet again!
Tuesday, August 20, 2002
8/20/02
7:51pm
THE SEARCH FOR INTELLIGENT LIFE......
So I'm watching Tech TV, and they're busy interviewing some lil old guy who's all about finding intelligent life on another planet. My question is: Why not start on our own planet?
There has to be more than just some friends and me representing the intelligent life on the planet, right? I'm hopeful that someone else besides Dante and I are noticing the rainbows and pink clouds when they show themselves. I also like to believe that the other intelligent lives on this planet are in positions to make a difference, however small it may be.
7:51pm
THE SEARCH FOR INTELLIGENT LIFE......
So I'm watching Tech TV, and they're busy interviewing some lil old guy who's all about finding intelligent life on another planet. My question is: Why not start on our own planet?
There has to be more than just some friends and me representing the intelligent life on the planet, right? I'm hopeful that someone else besides Dante and I are noticing the rainbows and pink clouds when they show themselves. I also like to believe that the other intelligent lives on this planet are in positions to make a difference, however small it may be.
Saturday, August 03, 2002
8/03/02
12:21pm
FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY....
That is my caveat for those who try to take me too seriously. I'm nicknamed The Smiling Goth, which in and of itself is a paradox.
I'm watching 2001: A Space Odyssey, and I can't help but feel the rage toward evil Lucas and his psuedo-attempt at movie-making. The first set of movies he made the excuse of technology not being up to par with what he wanted to do... in 1977. Ummm... just an observation, but Kubrick managed to make a damned realistic film over a decade prior to Star Wars, with even less technology. I stand by my Lucas Lack of Talent argument, since now he has the "technology" to do what he wants, and he STILL can't do it right.
End Lucas rant du jour.....
On to bigger and better things, like Italian desserts. Oh yeah, I'm talking Tiramisu and cannoli. MMMMMMMmmmmmm..... If you've never tried them, go! Find thee a GOOD Italian restaurant and experience the heaven. I mention this only because I have found an EXCELLENT Italian restaurant in Florida, of all the places. It has the completely steriotypical name, and an atmosphere that screams stereotyped Italian-American (although there were no red and white checkered tablecloths), but the service and food are anything but ordinary. Goodfellas is the name, if you ever find yourself in the Sunshine State in Orlando. It's incredible. This review brought to you by an authentic Italian-American who was raised on real Italian cuisine (don't worry, there's no fluffy bunnies being served up at Goodfellas).
Other than that.. life as I know it. Work work work. And gardening. Dante and I made a trip to Lowe's, and bought about two carts worth of plants, dirt, and flowerpots. My porch has become a jungle. A jungle that Pants LOVES. And of course, that cat tree we got her. It's 8 feet of hilarity, with three shelves of chaos built in... and it's treated with CATNIP. My cat is truly insane. Between playing in the jungle and climbing the cat tree, she's almost in kitty heaven. Right now she's sitting on the porch, staring up at the largest plant as if she's chatting with it. For all I know she could be.
12:21pm
FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY....
That is my caveat for those who try to take me too seriously. I'm nicknamed The Smiling Goth, which in and of itself is a paradox.
I'm watching 2001: A Space Odyssey, and I can't help but feel the rage toward evil Lucas and his psuedo-attempt at movie-making. The first set of movies he made the excuse of technology not being up to par with what he wanted to do... in 1977. Ummm... just an observation, but Kubrick managed to make a damned realistic film over a decade prior to Star Wars, with even less technology. I stand by my Lucas Lack of Talent argument, since now he has the "technology" to do what he wants, and he STILL can't do it right.
End Lucas rant du jour.....
On to bigger and better things, like Italian desserts. Oh yeah, I'm talking Tiramisu and cannoli. MMMMMMMmmmmmm..... If you've never tried them, go! Find thee a GOOD Italian restaurant and experience the heaven. I mention this only because I have found an EXCELLENT Italian restaurant in Florida, of all the places. It has the completely steriotypical name, and an atmosphere that screams stereotyped Italian-American (although there were no red and white checkered tablecloths), but the service and food are anything but ordinary. Goodfellas is the name, if you ever find yourself in the Sunshine State in Orlando. It's incredible. This review brought to you by an authentic Italian-American who was raised on real Italian cuisine (don't worry, there's no fluffy bunnies being served up at Goodfellas).
Other than that.. life as I know it. Work work work. And gardening. Dante and I made a trip to Lowe's, and bought about two carts worth of plants, dirt, and flowerpots. My porch has become a jungle. A jungle that Pants LOVES. And of course, that cat tree we got her. It's 8 feet of hilarity, with three shelves of chaos built in... and it's treated with CATNIP. My cat is truly insane. Between playing in the jungle and climbing the cat tree, she's almost in kitty heaven. Right now she's sitting on the porch, staring up at the largest plant as if she's chatting with it. For all I know she could be.
Monday, July 29, 2002
7/29/02
11:15pm
HEY, HONEY.... IS THIS BAD?
Oooooohhhh.... and I'm back! Seems this lack of sleep thing has started to take over my creativity, too. I've been trying to make up for it in online shenaqnigans, but to no avail. Until tonight, of course. Good ole Puff Chrissy of LegionStudios.com informed me that I'm in print with my Angry Fudge Experience in the illustrious and locally famous Too Square Magazine. Woo hoo!
But on to my topic du jour. I could go on about the lack of respect that youngins have for their elders these days, but that would so twist my oh-so mellow. I could tell the story of Pants and her new Cat Tree, but I might just save that for later. It's funny. But tonight, the story is the story of A Good Watermelon Gone Bad.
It started about 20 minutes ago, and sent me into a nauseous spiral of laughter. For about the last two weeks, I recall a watermelon being quite at home on the kitchen counter. I don't remember WHEN it got there, or even actually BUYING it, but there it was, and I accepted it as the mystery-melon it was. Tonight, Dante decided to cut into this mystery, and I cringed at his all-too-often-spoken next words, "Hey, Suzi, can you come here a minute and look at this?"
I'm comfortably wrapped in a blanket on the couch, computer on lap, and I sooo don't want to get up. I ask him the ever-popular response that I save for just such occasions: What's wrong? Dante becomes Mr. Mysterio and won't tell me what he wants me to look at. All he says is he "isn't sure" about something-- which could be anything from his discovery of that fungus container we had hiding in the back of the fridge to an all out rush to the hospital over a deep knife gash to the hand....
I finally dragged myself off the couch only to find that there was a massacre in the kitchen. The quartered carcass of a watermelon leaked all over the counter, the inside meat looking a little less than healthy. In fact, if watermelons could get cancer, it would look like the carcass splayed before Dante on the counter. He turned to me and gave me The Look. Then he said, "What do you think? Is this still good?" Why do they ALWAYS ask that?? When there's a black film forming on an otherwise pinkish fruit, why is there a DOUBT? I know the watermelon didn't ask for a second opinion on its diagnosis.
I'm going to miss that mystery-melon hanging out on the kitchen counter.
11:15pm
HEY, HONEY.... IS THIS BAD?
Oooooohhhh.... and I'm back! Seems this lack of sleep thing has started to take over my creativity, too. I've been trying to make up for it in online shenaqnigans, but to no avail. Until tonight, of course. Good ole Puff Chrissy of LegionStudios.com informed me that I'm in print with my Angry Fudge Experience in the illustrious and locally famous Too Square Magazine. Woo hoo!
But on to my topic du jour. I could go on about the lack of respect that youngins have for their elders these days, but that would so twist my oh-so mellow. I could tell the story of Pants and her new Cat Tree, but I might just save that for later. It's funny. But tonight, the story is the story of A Good Watermelon Gone Bad.
It started about 20 minutes ago, and sent me into a nauseous spiral of laughter. For about the last two weeks, I recall a watermelon being quite at home on the kitchen counter. I don't remember WHEN it got there, or even actually BUYING it, but there it was, and I accepted it as the mystery-melon it was. Tonight, Dante decided to cut into this mystery, and I cringed at his all-too-often-spoken next words, "Hey, Suzi, can you come here a minute and look at this?"
I'm comfortably wrapped in a blanket on the couch, computer on lap, and I sooo don't want to get up. I ask him the ever-popular response that I save for just such occasions: What's wrong? Dante becomes Mr. Mysterio and won't tell me what he wants me to look at. All he says is he "isn't sure" about something-- which could be anything from his discovery of that fungus container we had hiding in the back of the fridge to an all out rush to the hospital over a deep knife gash to the hand....
I finally dragged myself off the couch only to find that there was a massacre in the kitchen. The quartered carcass of a watermelon leaked all over the counter, the inside meat looking a little less than healthy. In fact, if watermelons could get cancer, it would look like the carcass splayed before Dante on the counter. He turned to me and gave me The Look. Then he said, "What do you think? Is this still good?" Why do they ALWAYS ask that?? When there's a black film forming on an otherwise pinkish fruit, why is there a DOUBT? I know the watermelon didn't ask for a second opinion on its diagnosis.
I'm going to miss that mystery-melon hanging out on the kitchen counter.
Sunday, July 21, 2002
7/21/02
9:33am
POP CULTURE IS NOT A CULTURE, DAMMIT
My bitch du jour.... Watching VH1 of all the things, and I really have a problem with the band Creed. Aside fr4om the nifty BRYCE/Maya video backgrounds in the latest video, these guys bore the SHIT out of me. Would they like some cheese with that whine? Oh wait-- they have the market cornered on cheese.
So let's check out this lead "singer" who sounds an awful lot like another band, but Creed doesn't even come close to the talent of the other band who will not be mentioned in the same paragraph with evil Creed. So we got this pseudo born-again Christian (and don't argue it, the band's name is CREED, fer gawd's sake) so we have the singer/whiner, whose "troubled" life is like cake compared to most of the rock stars out there. In the interview this guy's bitching because he didn't get along with his upper middle class family. Wah. So he leaves, and sleeps on the floor in an apartment--at least he HAD an apartment, but this guy's bitching because he had to sleep on a cushioned carpet. Wah. Somehow I can't bring myself to feel pity, since I was living next to poverty at some point, and damn close to starving so I could pay the rent (although I had a GREAT figure at the time, sadly), and this guy's crying because he had a nice apartment and had to sleep on the floor. Dude, it's called McDonald's-- work at it. Lazy bastard.
So he's STILL whining about something or other, and even though he's got the personality of a clay flower pot, America is eating it up. WHY? Because it's the watering down of America. The people who love Creed are probably the same people who believe we shouldn't rebuild the World Trade Centers bigger and better because "they'll be a target". Fuck that, sez I. Build them twice as high, go with the blueprints and it'll be the BIGGEST memorial in history, and the christening moment will be to throw that sorry-ass lead singer from Creed off the top of them.
In closing, STOP THE WATERING DOWN, America!!!! Leave that to movie theater soda.
9:33am
POP CULTURE IS NOT A CULTURE, DAMMIT
My bitch du jour.... Watching VH1 of all the things, and I really have a problem with the band Creed. Aside fr4om the nifty BRYCE/Maya video backgrounds in the latest video, these guys bore the SHIT out of me. Would they like some cheese with that whine? Oh wait-- they have the market cornered on cheese.
So let's check out this lead "singer" who sounds an awful lot like another band, but Creed doesn't even come close to the talent of the other band who will not be mentioned in the same paragraph with evil Creed. So we got this pseudo born-again Christian (and don't argue it, the band's name is CREED, fer gawd's sake) so we have the singer/whiner, whose "troubled" life is like cake compared to most of the rock stars out there. In the interview this guy's bitching because he didn't get along with his upper middle class family. Wah. So he leaves, and sleeps on the floor in an apartment--at least he HAD an apartment, but this guy's bitching because he had to sleep on a cushioned carpet. Wah. Somehow I can't bring myself to feel pity, since I was living next to poverty at some point, and damn close to starving so I could pay the rent (although I had a GREAT figure at the time, sadly), and this guy's crying because he had a nice apartment and had to sleep on the floor. Dude, it's called McDonald's-- work at it. Lazy bastard.
So he's STILL whining about something or other, and even though he's got the personality of a clay flower pot, America is eating it up. WHY? Because it's the watering down of America. The people who love Creed are probably the same people who believe we shouldn't rebuild the World Trade Centers bigger and better because "they'll be a target". Fuck that, sez I. Build them twice as high, go with the blueprints and it'll be the BIGGEST memorial in history, and the christening moment will be to throw that sorry-ass lead singer from Creed off the top of them.
In closing, STOP THE WATERING DOWN, America!!!! Leave that to movie theater soda.
Wednesday, July 17, 2002
7/17/02
8:12pm
THE GREAT AND POWERFUL JOBS HAS SPOKEN
For anyone who saw the webcast of Steve Jobs presentation of the latest and greatest that Mac has to offer the consuming public, pretty skippy, wasn't it?
For those who haven't seen it yet,
http://www.apple.com/quicktime/qtv/mwny02/
A word of advice, download and install Quicktime 6 first.
In other news.... just what the hell is the Fox network shoving down our throats and zapping into our retinas in the name of entertainment???? It was bad enoough with American Idiot-- oops-- IDOL (note my sarcasm, feel my annoyance). This "show" bugged me for several reasons, and I will now list them:
They invite Simon to be part of the judges panel, then turn the poor guy-- the ONLY one who didn't sugarcoat it for those kids, and the only one who would give them a true taste of the entertainment industry attitude-- into a scapegoat and minor security threat to our national small-mindedness. Not to mention the rudeness of all of America and the so-called "Talent" of the show, to treat a guest as an outcast and target for abuse. I mean, what the hell?? THIS is what American kids should follow for an example? No wonder the rest of the world hates us.
And tonight takes the cake. 30 Seconds to Futility. Or as I like to call it, Stupid Human Tricks, 30 Seconds at a Time.
Hopefully Steve Jobs will run for president if Jesse Ventura doesn't, and save us all from inevitable Darwinism.
8:12pm
THE GREAT AND POWERFUL JOBS HAS SPOKEN
For anyone who saw the webcast of Steve Jobs presentation of the latest and greatest that Mac has to offer the consuming public, pretty skippy, wasn't it?
For those who haven't seen it yet,
http://www.apple.com/quicktime/qtv/mwny02/
A word of advice, download and install Quicktime 6 first.
In other news.... just what the hell is the Fox network shoving down our throats and zapping into our retinas in the name of entertainment???? It was bad enoough with American Idiot-- oops-- IDOL (note my sarcasm, feel my annoyance). This "show" bugged me for several reasons, and I will now list them:
They invite Simon to be part of the judges panel, then turn the poor guy-- the ONLY one who didn't sugarcoat it for those kids, and the only one who would give them a true taste of the entertainment industry attitude-- into a scapegoat and minor security threat to our national small-mindedness. Not to mention the rudeness of all of America and the so-called "Talent" of the show, to treat a guest as an outcast and target for abuse. I mean, what the hell?? THIS is what American kids should follow for an example? No wonder the rest of the world hates us.
And tonight takes the cake. 30 Seconds to Futility. Or as I like to call it, Stupid Human Tricks, 30 Seconds at a Time.
Hopefully Steve Jobs will run for president if Jesse Ventura doesn't, and save us all from inevitable Darwinism.
Tuesday, July 02, 2002
7/02/02
9:13pm
POPCULTURE TELEVISION: POISON TO THE MIND OR CURE FOR THE COMMON COLD?
I must apologize to those who might have actually become addicted to my online rantings. I got a new job. It's fun. No, seriously, it really is. Someday I may even mention where I work. I do have to admit to missing the steady unemployment check mailed out to me with promptness and sterile inhuman efficiency every week for the last six months, though.
Soooo... here's me, sane as I can attain. Hurrah.
And onto the gack they fill my television airtimes with. Just what the HELL is the FOX network thinking??? At one point there was some decent programming on there; Family Guy, Andy Richter Controls the Universe, The Tick (both cartoon and Patrick Warburton versions), That '80's Show, to name a few of the now MIA shows I came to know and love. What have they replaced it with? Bernie Mac and American Idol, with a show dedicated to stupid humans doing stupid tricks waiting in the wings. I mean seriously... what about those of us who LIKED the sick humor? The SMART humor? The humor you had to actually pay attention to or you would miss the joke in the canned studio audience laughter tracks. Where are my cartoons, dammit???
And I can only watch Malcolm in the Middle so many times before I become enraged at the tyranny of Lois over her spawn. For a woman with such an iron fist, she has the most out of control household.
Next up on the firing lineup: American Idol.... Jesus H. Christ jumping up and down on a pogo stick!! Where did they drag that one out of? The ashes of Temptation Island and Lovecruise?? Was this the last thing at the bottom of the barrel? GAWD. Proves to me that I am growing old despite my best efforts. Oh well. If being young means having to watch crap like American Idol and ENJOYING it, then count me as a senior citizen and buy me a plot at the local cemetery, cuz I ain't watching it. I'm putting my foot down here and now. So why am I bitching, you ask? Because the only voice of reality on American Idol is the least-liked member of the panel: SIMON. Rude? On occasion. Sarcastic? Show me a person in the entertainment industry who ISN'T. So all of the pretty P.C. folks have a problem with him because he's not sugar-coating the truth: some of those kids SUCKED donkey ass. And seriously, he's the most honest of all of us, because he's the one saying it to these kids' faces. Better for them to hear it now then to attempt to make a career out of their lack of talent. Meanwhile the other two are just kind of bitching at him for being honest. Why? The two hoochies from Miami should have been booted the second they came up in their hoochie gear. If I had had as much asscheek hanging out as that one girl, I wouldn't have bothered wearing the daisydukes in the first place. Then her buddy shows up with no underwear on and a gauzy white (see-through) outfit, I felt like I should have been ready for a porn to break out.
As if the no-talents weren't bad enough, we have the sore losers to back it all up. What exactly IS the message of shows like these? Teach all of America that if you don't get what you want, be the worst sore loser you can be, cry and bitch, and then if at all possible, SUE SOMEBODY. Forget about dignity, forget that you might be seen by someone out there who LIKED you, but your bad attitude just ruined any chance you had, but that's okay. Apparently no doesn't mean no either, and the words "I don't like you." really translate to "I'm playing hard to get."
Go figure. And let's look at this one: educational funding is being funneled into sports more and more, and the rise in teen crime and drug abuse is escalating. Next thing you know, America is going to be filled with sports junkies watching Stupid Human Tricks by Stupid Humans III and the intelligent ones will be slowly phased out like some sick reverse-darwinism-- oh wait. That's already begun.... Only question is: Is art imitating life or is life imitating art?
9:13pm
POPCULTURE TELEVISION: POISON TO THE MIND OR CURE FOR THE COMMON COLD?
I must apologize to those who might have actually become addicted to my online rantings. I got a new job. It's fun. No, seriously, it really is. Someday I may even mention where I work. I do have to admit to missing the steady unemployment check mailed out to me with promptness and sterile inhuman efficiency every week for the last six months, though.
Soooo... here's me, sane as I can attain. Hurrah.
And onto the gack they fill my television airtimes with. Just what the HELL is the FOX network thinking??? At one point there was some decent programming on there; Family Guy, Andy Richter Controls the Universe, The Tick (both cartoon and Patrick Warburton versions), That '80's Show, to name a few of the now MIA shows I came to know and love. What have they replaced it with? Bernie Mac and American Idol, with a show dedicated to stupid humans doing stupid tricks waiting in the wings. I mean seriously... what about those of us who LIKED the sick humor? The SMART humor? The humor you had to actually pay attention to or you would miss the joke in the canned studio audience laughter tracks. Where are my cartoons, dammit???
And I can only watch Malcolm in the Middle so many times before I become enraged at the tyranny of Lois over her spawn. For a woman with such an iron fist, she has the most out of control household.
Next up on the firing lineup: American Idol.... Jesus H. Christ jumping up and down on a pogo stick!! Where did they drag that one out of? The ashes of Temptation Island and Lovecruise?? Was this the last thing at the bottom of the barrel? GAWD. Proves to me that I am growing old despite my best efforts. Oh well. If being young means having to watch crap like American Idol and ENJOYING it, then count me as a senior citizen and buy me a plot at the local cemetery, cuz I ain't watching it. I'm putting my foot down here and now. So why am I bitching, you ask? Because the only voice of reality on American Idol is the least-liked member of the panel: SIMON. Rude? On occasion. Sarcastic? Show me a person in the entertainment industry who ISN'T. So all of the pretty P.C. folks have a problem with him because he's not sugar-coating the truth: some of those kids SUCKED donkey ass. And seriously, he's the most honest of all of us, because he's the one saying it to these kids' faces. Better for them to hear it now then to attempt to make a career out of their lack of talent. Meanwhile the other two are just kind of bitching at him for being honest. Why? The two hoochies from Miami should have been booted the second they came up in their hoochie gear. If I had had as much asscheek hanging out as that one girl, I wouldn't have bothered wearing the daisydukes in the first place. Then her buddy shows up with no underwear on and a gauzy white (see-through) outfit, I felt like I should have been ready for a porn to break out.
As if the no-talents weren't bad enough, we have the sore losers to back it all up. What exactly IS the message of shows like these? Teach all of America that if you don't get what you want, be the worst sore loser you can be, cry and bitch, and then if at all possible, SUE SOMEBODY. Forget about dignity, forget that you might be seen by someone out there who LIKED you, but your bad attitude just ruined any chance you had, but that's okay. Apparently no doesn't mean no either, and the words "I don't like you." really translate to "I'm playing hard to get."
Go figure. And let's look at this one: educational funding is being funneled into sports more and more, and the rise in teen crime and drug abuse is escalating. Next thing you know, America is going to be filled with sports junkies watching Stupid Human Tricks by Stupid Humans III and the intelligent ones will be slowly phased out like some sick reverse-darwinism-- oh wait. That's already begun.... Only question is: Is art imitating life or is life imitating art?
Saturday, June 22, 2002
6/22/02
11:11 PM
WORDS FROM THE M.I.A. MISTRESS
Old movies, old memories, and a cold sneaking up on me.
Started the new job, enjoying it so far. Takes up a lot of my time, hence the lack of electronic communications with the anonymous reader.
Currently watching North By Northwest from Alfred Hitchcock and waiting for the next cat attack on my unsuspecting head. Life can be interesting when your cat's a crackhead like The Pants is.
Finally got out of the house a little bit last night, went to see Minority Report. I have a theory that the better Steven Spielberg's movies get, the worse George Lucas films will become. Take the latest movies, for example. Minority Report had an incredible story, and I assume some better footage than the horrendously mismatched images of Attack of the Clones (and wasn't that the title of a '50's B movie??).
This has to be my favorite part of North By Northwest-- or at least the funniest part-- when Cary Grant is getting chased down by a crop-dusting bi-wing plane. Something absolutely side-splittingly funny about that. I guess the absurdity of being chased by an antiquated plane coupled with the fact that the same antiquated plane ends up kamikaze-ing straight into a tanker truck adds to the sick humor. Hitchcock had a sense of humor, even if it was as dry as the Mojave Desert.
11:11 PM
WORDS FROM THE M.I.A. MISTRESS
Old movies, old memories, and a cold sneaking up on me.
Started the new job, enjoying it so far. Takes up a lot of my time, hence the lack of electronic communications with the anonymous reader.
Currently watching North By Northwest from Alfred Hitchcock and waiting for the next cat attack on my unsuspecting head. Life can be interesting when your cat's a crackhead like The Pants is.
Finally got out of the house a little bit last night, went to see Minority Report. I have a theory that the better Steven Spielberg's movies get, the worse George Lucas films will become. Take the latest movies, for example. Minority Report had an incredible story, and I assume some better footage than the horrendously mismatched images of Attack of the Clones (and wasn't that the title of a '50's B movie??).
This has to be my favorite part of North By Northwest-- or at least the funniest part-- when Cary Grant is getting chased down by a crop-dusting bi-wing plane. Something absolutely side-splittingly funny about that. I guess the absurdity of being chased by an antiquated plane coupled with the fact that the same antiquated plane ends up kamikaze-ing straight into a tanker truck adds to the sick humor. Hitchcock had a sense of humor, even if it was as dry as the Mojave Desert.
DOH!!!! I TOTALLY forgot to post these entries last week... so here they are, live and uncut.
THE MISSING BLOGS....
6/14/02
10:06am
WRITING WITH NOTHING TO SAY
I sat down with every intention of inputting a Pulitzer Prize-winning journal entry.. but damn it, I have nothing to say. Well, other than Pants is a crackhead. But anyone who has ever met The Pants knew that....
Other than that, yet more viruses. I wrote to charter.net (because that's where all the obnoxious and infected email was coming from) and let them know, hey, one of your users is sending me viruses. Enough already. Well. I just got an email in my site inbox from charter.net telling me (as the owner of the site) that _I_ am sending Klez to their site. ME? I never even USE my site's email because hotmail has an automatic virus scan. AND I don't use a PC, which is what this thing is supposed to infect. So how the HELL am I sending Klez?? I'll have to wait for my tech support buddy to get back to me. He truly is the guru.
6/15/02
5:44PM
MOVIES NOT MADE FOR CHILDREN-- SO WHY THE HELL DID THEY LET US WATCH THEM???
Watership Down
The Secret of NIMH
The Great Owl--fumanchu mustache and glowing yellow eyes
nicademus-- the ancient scary rat
The Dark Crystal
THE MISSING BLOGS....
6/14/02
10:06am
WRITING WITH NOTHING TO SAY
I sat down with every intention of inputting a Pulitzer Prize-winning journal entry.. but damn it, I have nothing to say. Well, other than Pants is a crackhead. But anyone who has ever met The Pants knew that....
Other than that, yet more viruses. I wrote to charter.net (because that's where all the obnoxious and infected email was coming from) and let them know, hey, one of your users is sending me viruses. Enough already. Well. I just got an email in my site inbox from charter.net telling me (as the owner of the site) that _I_ am sending Klez to their site. ME? I never even USE my site's email because hotmail has an automatic virus scan. AND I don't use a PC, which is what this thing is supposed to infect. So how the HELL am I sending Klez?? I'll have to wait for my tech support buddy to get back to me. He truly is the guru.
6/15/02
5:44PM
MOVIES NOT MADE FOR CHILDREN-- SO WHY THE HELL DID THEY LET US WATCH THEM???
Watership Down
The Secret of NIMH
The Great Owl--fumanchu mustache and glowing yellow eyes
nicademus-- the ancient scary rat
The Dark Crystal
Wednesday, June 12, 2002
6/12/02
12:23pm
YOU'RE NO ONE UNTIL SOMEONE LOVES YOU... AND OTHER LIES THEY TELL YOU
Well, seems quite a few people are trying to crash my system these days. And that's just the internet aspect of things. I mean, seriously, WHY do I get emails with viruses??? WHY? Does some prick kid REALLY wanna find out what happens to THEIR computer when I get THEIR forwarded virus? I send it right back to them. I hope it killed their blasted lil unparented unwatched computers and ended their fun real quick. Lil brats. Enough is enough. Parents, why are you not spanking your children???? Do the rest of us a favor and give them at least one good yearly beating, because this "Timeout" bullshit just isn't working for me. And you know what, I bet after parents start smacking their lil darlings around a little bit, we will see a sudden drop in computer viruses. Seriously. Because Gawd forbid we actually PARENT our children, right? That's someone else's job, isn't it? NO. Spankings need to be dealt out to these tiny terrors before they become as obnoxious and out of control as my little brother once was-- before he joined the military. See? He WANTED to be diciplined! The entire time he was acting up and being an arrogant 15 year old, he was actually SCREAMING for a beating. Kids want to be punished for their wrongs, they just don't know it. Computer viruses are just another growing sign that little Johnny is wanting more than a stern talking-to, despite the lies that child shrinks tell yuppie [parents].
In other news.... I was chatting with my buddy Mo today about the lies THEY tell you. Things like, "you're no one until someone loves you" and "beauty is in the eye of the beholder", and my personal favorite, "we're all in this together". Men don't realize the hell women go through and have gone through, and then stupid-ass sayings like the above-mentioned come along and throw all of womankind out for a new loop. Like corsets and heels just weren't enough....
So I say, to hell with those sayings! I was someone before someone else loved me, and I'm still someone (I mean, come on now, none of us are actually NO ONE since we ARE all here, right?). I take up space and I take up cyberspace, so therefore I exist. HA!
And the next untruth: Beauty and the very concept of beauty is all a sick and demented lie. It's all about how big your tits are, girls. How many people honestly look at your face if you have huge tits? Even women are drawn to big tits, whether or not they admit it. Big bustlines have a gravitational pull that is irresistible to all humans great and small. It's all about the mammaries. Freud would love me. And just so the men don't feel left out: we're looking at your personality and craniums, not your chiselled good looks (we save that for later. ;) ) Or if you have bitch-tits, we will inevitably be staring at your chest. So get over it.
OK. Last but not least: "We're all in this together."
Who is this WE?? As far as I know, I'm the only one here, so they must be talking to ME. And what is THIS? Life? The Universe? EVERYTHING??? WHATTTT??????!!!!
A phrase like that can make a paranoid schizophrenic into a purebred psychopath! A phrase like that just JUSTIFIED the THEY Theory. Because THEY just addressed the poor disturbed creature and claimed a WE association. Kind of makes the poor bastard wonder if he had a hand in his own undoing, since WE'RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER. And then we wonder why people go on killing sprees?? Phrases like "We're all in this together." will do it everytime. Eliminate the WE factor, and all that's left is YOU. Brings back a sense of control of the situation (although I'm still trying to figure out what the "this" is). To coin a phrase. That's another one... WHAT THE HELL DOES IT MEAN???? No wonder so many kids that need beatings failed English.
12:23pm
YOU'RE NO ONE UNTIL SOMEONE LOVES YOU... AND OTHER LIES THEY TELL YOU
Well, seems quite a few people are trying to crash my system these days. And that's just the internet aspect of things. I mean, seriously, WHY do I get emails with viruses??? WHY? Does some prick kid REALLY wanna find out what happens to THEIR computer when I get THEIR forwarded virus? I send it right back to them. I hope it killed their blasted lil unparented unwatched computers and ended their fun real quick. Lil brats. Enough is enough. Parents, why are you not spanking your children???? Do the rest of us a favor and give them at least one good yearly beating, because this "Timeout" bullshit just isn't working for me. And you know what, I bet after parents start smacking their lil darlings around a little bit, we will see a sudden drop in computer viruses. Seriously. Because Gawd forbid we actually PARENT our children, right? That's someone else's job, isn't it? NO. Spankings need to be dealt out to these tiny terrors before they become as obnoxious and out of control as my little brother once was-- before he joined the military. See? He WANTED to be diciplined! The entire time he was acting up and being an arrogant 15 year old, he was actually SCREAMING for a beating. Kids want to be punished for their wrongs, they just don't know it. Computer viruses are just another growing sign that little Johnny is wanting more than a stern talking-to, despite the lies that child shrinks tell yuppie [parents].
In other news.... I was chatting with my buddy Mo today about the lies THEY tell you. Things like, "you're no one until someone loves you" and "beauty is in the eye of the beholder", and my personal favorite, "we're all in this together". Men don't realize the hell women go through and have gone through, and then stupid-ass sayings like the above-mentioned come along and throw all of womankind out for a new loop. Like corsets and heels just weren't enough....
So I say, to hell with those sayings! I was someone before someone else loved me, and I'm still someone (I mean, come on now, none of us are actually NO ONE since we ARE all here, right?). I take up space and I take up cyberspace, so therefore I exist. HA!
And the next untruth: Beauty and the very concept of beauty is all a sick and demented lie. It's all about how big your tits are, girls. How many people honestly look at your face if you have huge tits? Even women are drawn to big tits, whether or not they admit it. Big bustlines have a gravitational pull that is irresistible to all humans great and small. It's all about the mammaries. Freud would love me. And just so the men don't feel left out: we're looking at your personality and craniums, not your chiselled good looks (we save that for later. ;) ) Or if you have bitch-tits, we will inevitably be staring at your chest. So get over it.
OK. Last but not least: "We're all in this together."
Who is this WE?? As far as I know, I'm the only one here, so they must be talking to ME. And what is THIS? Life? The Universe? EVERYTHING??? WHATTTT??????!!!!
A phrase like that can make a paranoid schizophrenic into a purebred psychopath! A phrase like that just JUSTIFIED the THEY Theory. Because THEY just addressed the poor disturbed creature and claimed a WE association. Kind of makes the poor bastard wonder if he had a hand in his own undoing, since WE'RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER. And then we wonder why people go on killing sprees?? Phrases like "We're all in this together." will do it everytime. Eliminate the WE factor, and all that's left is YOU. Brings back a sense of control of the situation (although I'm still trying to figure out what the "this" is). To coin a phrase. That's another one... WHAT THE HELL DOES IT MEAN???? No wonder so many kids that need beatings failed English.
Tuesday, June 11, 2002
6/11/02
10:25am
DEATH AND TAXES?
*DISCLAIMER: This is just for fun, by the way... I actually have NO idea if any of this is truth.*
OK... a pseudo-serious political discussion, along with
The Obligatory Conspiracy Theory Link
And that's all I will say about that one, because frankly, it's over and no one's bringing them back. Yet another speculation on WHAT HAPPENED ON SEPTEMBER 11TH scenario. Color me bitch, but I was there, and I'm tired of reliving it day in and day out. Enough is enough.
On a lighter note. I will start off with this fun link Dante found whilst browsing. It's called THE SIXTEENTH AMENDMENT WAS NEVER RATIFIED
And as a good citizen, you SHOULD be asking, well what the hell does THAT mean? And I'll tell you as I understand it. In a nutshell, file the right papers, talk to the right people (ie a lawyer and your bank and your job) and you DON'T have to pay income tax. That's right. The 16th Amendment was never ratified, which is what has every American VOLUNTEERING to pay taxes. Get that shit. VOLUNTARY taxation. What a larf. By signing the fun paperwork for "tax purposes" when you get that new job, you are effectively signing away your hard earned cash in donation to the government. FUN. here's some more fun sites for ya to eyeball:
http://www.supremelaw.org/fedzone11/htm/chaptr13.htm
http://www.thelawthatneverwas.com/
http://www.joyfoundation.com/
Yes, some of the sites are selling stuff to help you get out of paying taxes, but it's still interesting to know that technically, income tax is considered a voluntary tax. The ones who were SUPPOSED to be taxed were the work visa folks, and the occupants of the US Territories.
How ironic...
I guess it's time to stop signing that W4, eh?
10:25am
DEATH AND TAXES?
*DISCLAIMER: This is just for fun, by the way... I actually have NO idea if any of this is truth.*
OK... a pseudo-serious political discussion, along with
The Obligatory Conspiracy Theory Link
And that's all I will say about that one, because frankly, it's over and no one's bringing them back. Yet another speculation on WHAT HAPPENED ON SEPTEMBER 11TH scenario. Color me bitch, but I was there, and I'm tired of reliving it day in and day out. Enough is enough.
On a lighter note. I will start off with this fun link Dante found whilst browsing. It's called THE SIXTEENTH AMENDMENT WAS NEVER RATIFIED
And as a good citizen, you SHOULD be asking, well what the hell does THAT mean? And I'll tell you as I understand it. In a nutshell, file the right papers, talk to the right people (ie a lawyer and your bank and your job) and you DON'T have to pay income tax. That's right. The 16th Amendment was never ratified, which is what has every American VOLUNTEERING to pay taxes. Get that shit. VOLUNTARY taxation. What a larf. By signing the fun paperwork for "tax purposes" when you get that new job, you are effectively signing away your hard earned cash in donation to the government. FUN. here's some more fun sites for ya to eyeball:
http://www.supremelaw.org/fedzone11/htm/chaptr13.htm
http://www.thelawthatneverwas.com/
http://www.joyfoundation.com/
Yes, some of the sites are selling stuff to help you get out of paying taxes, but it's still interesting to know that technically, income tax is considered a voluntary tax. The ones who were SUPPOSED to be taxed were the work visa folks, and the occupants of the US Territories.
How ironic...
I guess it's time to stop signing that W4, eh?
Monday, June 10, 2002
6/10/02
7:05pm
THE ANGRY FUDGE EXPERIENCE
First and foremost, if yer reading this, Bee, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!
OK. So I was at home, watching Death By Chocolate on one of those improve something channels, and this guy (apparently at one point drafted into the Marines for Viet Nam, but looked more like a librarian) is showing his viewing audience how to make fudge. I think, 'Wow, fudge. That sounds great.' I write down the recipe and how to make it, and even go out and get a candy thermometer so that I will reach the 245 degrees F that it's supposed to reach before it will set.
I get everything ready, I make sure I have everything, and I begin to prepare this (in my imagination) wonderful fudge. I get the chocolate mess to boil, and I leave it boiling, get it to the 245 degrees, grease the pan to put it into, add the last ingredients as per the recipe, and pour the painfully hot chocolate sludge into this pan. Do you know how painful hot (I mean BOILING) chocolate is when is splashes you? VERY painful. Worse than hot wax, even. Mind you, I had to keep running back and forth every five minutes or so because Pants decides she really likes chocolate, and I chase her off the stove several times during this endeavor, the final time she left chocokitty footprints from her front paw... guess who dipped in to sample the chocolate? And after that, I had to fight her off because after the chocolate experience, she was a CRACKHEAD, attacking everything and anything, pupils so dilated that I swear I saw into her brain.
But I digress. I let the alleged fudge sit on the countertop, waiting and waiting for it to 'set'. After two hours I got tired and put it into the refrigerator, expecting this might work-- my cleverness astounds even ME sometimes-- but NO! The sludge laughed at me, refusing to harden to fudge. Damn it. I scraped the fudge back into a saucepan and brought it back to a boil, thinking maybe it just needed to push off more liquid... I poored the new attempt into a smaller pan, let it sit on the countertop again, and waited patiently. After about an hour of waiting, I pried the would-be fudge out of the pan and put it onto a plate. I was sooo cool. I made fudge... but there was something horrifyingly wrong. This fudge suspiciously resembled taffy. Chocolate-flavored taffy.
I poked at it with a knife, and it sucked the knife away from my hands. I tried to pry it off the plate, but it ate that too. I had successfully created The Blob, but chocolate-flavored. People dressed in 50's clothes would smell chocolate before their immenent absorption into my chocomess, and it would grow in mass and size until no one was safe. I decided that taffy or not, I was gonna make the best of a bad situation and EAT this beast. I pried a piece off and popped it into my mouth, didn't TASTE bad, but I had trouble chewing it. Then I had problems SWALLOWING it. After that I had some trouble breathing, too. So much for saving that quiet 50's town from my monster. Let it eat them! said I. It sat on the counter for about a day, I hoped maybe it would walk away on its own and spare me from actually having to do battle with it. In that mere 24 hours, I learned to LOATHE it. It haunted me, I had dreams of it actually transforming into the dessert food it was intended to be, if only I let it sit there LONG ENOUGH. No luck. I cleaned the house around it, despising it every time I walked past it.
Yesterday I finally said enough. Dante looked at the black sludge shine of it's surface and cringed. I said, "Try some! It actually isn't that bad!" and forced myself to smile. I have hit a new low in deviousness. I hate myself as much as I hate my creation. It reminded me of the time I tried to cook chicken livers and ended up burning them. Even the cat wouldn't eat it.
So yesterday afternoon I crept up on my creation, wrestled the knife from its mucky grasp, and quickly pried at the edges in an attempt to reclaim my plate. The fudge-sludge laughed at me, and this time, I swear I could hear it. Even fire wouldn't kill this thing, but maybe boiling water would do the trick.... It's the Universal Solvent, right?
That plate is STILL soaking in the sink. And the fudge is STILL clinging to its surface. Gawd, I hate that host of Death By Chocolate.... and he owes me a dinner plate, dammit.
7:05pm
THE ANGRY FUDGE EXPERIENCE
First and foremost, if yer reading this, Bee, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!
OK. So I was at home, watching Death By Chocolate on one of those improve something channels, and this guy (apparently at one point drafted into the Marines for Viet Nam, but looked more like a librarian) is showing his viewing audience how to make fudge. I think, 'Wow, fudge. That sounds great.' I write down the recipe and how to make it, and even go out and get a candy thermometer so that I will reach the 245 degrees F that it's supposed to reach before it will set.
I get everything ready, I make sure I have everything, and I begin to prepare this (in my imagination) wonderful fudge. I get the chocolate mess to boil, and I leave it boiling, get it to the 245 degrees, grease the pan to put it into, add the last ingredients as per the recipe, and pour the painfully hot chocolate sludge into this pan. Do you know how painful hot (I mean BOILING) chocolate is when is splashes you? VERY painful. Worse than hot wax, even. Mind you, I had to keep running back and forth every five minutes or so because Pants decides she really likes chocolate, and I chase her off the stove several times during this endeavor, the final time she left chocokitty footprints from her front paw... guess who dipped in to sample the chocolate? And after that, I had to fight her off because after the chocolate experience, she was a CRACKHEAD, attacking everything and anything, pupils so dilated that I swear I saw into her brain.
But I digress. I let the alleged fudge sit on the countertop, waiting and waiting for it to 'set'. After two hours I got tired and put it into the refrigerator, expecting this might work-- my cleverness astounds even ME sometimes-- but NO! The sludge laughed at me, refusing to harden to fudge. Damn it. I scraped the fudge back into a saucepan and brought it back to a boil, thinking maybe it just needed to push off more liquid... I poored the new attempt into a smaller pan, let it sit on the countertop again, and waited patiently. After about an hour of waiting, I pried the would-be fudge out of the pan and put it onto a plate. I was sooo cool. I made fudge... but there was something horrifyingly wrong. This fudge suspiciously resembled taffy. Chocolate-flavored taffy.
I poked at it with a knife, and it sucked the knife away from my hands. I tried to pry it off the plate, but it ate that too. I had successfully created The Blob, but chocolate-flavored. People dressed in 50's clothes would smell chocolate before their immenent absorption into my chocomess, and it would grow in mass and size until no one was safe. I decided that taffy or not, I was gonna make the best of a bad situation and EAT this beast. I pried a piece off and popped it into my mouth, didn't TASTE bad, but I had trouble chewing it. Then I had problems SWALLOWING it. After that I had some trouble breathing, too. So much for saving that quiet 50's town from my monster. Let it eat them! said I. It sat on the counter for about a day, I hoped maybe it would walk away on its own and spare me from actually having to do battle with it. In that mere 24 hours, I learned to LOATHE it. It haunted me, I had dreams of it actually transforming into the dessert food it was intended to be, if only I let it sit there LONG ENOUGH. No luck. I cleaned the house around it, despising it every time I walked past it.
Yesterday I finally said enough. Dante looked at the black sludge shine of it's surface and cringed. I said, "Try some! It actually isn't that bad!" and forced myself to smile. I have hit a new low in deviousness. I hate myself as much as I hate my creation. It reminded me of the time I tried to cook chicken livers and ended up burning them. Even the cat wouldn't eat it.
So yesterday afternoon I crept up on my creation, wrestled the knife from its mucky grasp, and quickly pried at the edges in an attempt to reclaim my plate. The fudge-sludge laughed at me, and this time, I swear I could hear it. Even fire wouldn't kill this thing, but maybe boiling water would do the trick.... It's the Universal Solvent, right?
That plate is STILL soaking in the sink. And the fudge is STILL clinging to its surface. Gawd, I hate that host of Death By Chocolate.... and he owes me a dinner plate, dammit.
Thursday, June 06, 2002
1:37pm
FUN WARNING PHRASES TO THINK ABOUT
"I can't believe it.... he was so quiet and NORMAL."
"You gotta watch out for the quiet ones."
"She looked so NORMAL, but DAMN, that girl is a FREAK!"
"It's always the normal ones...."
"[insert generic reporter name here], I'm here in [state name], where a series of murders has BAFFLED the community... {town name} was a quiet town. Picket fences line the sidewalks, and children play in the streets. The neighbors NEVER thought THIS would happen, not in THEIR quiet little town."
"I always thought [insert homecoming queen's name here] was so happy, she had it all.... I can't believe she would do something like this."
In a nutshell, if you want to avoid the true dangerous crazies, here's some steps to follow:
> stay away from small, quiet towns
> NEVER move in next door to someone who keeps a wood chipper in their backyard ALL THE TIME
> NEVER move in next door to a single, quiet, NORMAL-looking man who's charming and who has train sets and hand puppets
> NEVER move next door to someone who's nice at first, but occasionally a little frightening
> never move into a neighborhood that's nice, quiet, and perfect norman rockwell
> never move into a neighborhood with a lot of nice quiet people and a drastically alternating pet and animal population
> Never move in next door to someone who has a picket fence surrounding their yard and a gingerbread cottage theme running over their house
>never move into a neighborhood frequently featured in the news beginning with the line "It was a quiet little town, until one day...."
FUN WARNING PHRASES TO THINK ABOUT
"I can't believe it.... he was so quiet and NORMAL."
"You gotta watch out for the quiet ones."
"She looked so NORMAL, but DAMN, that girl is a FREAK!"
"It's always the normal ones...."
"[insert generic reporter name here], I'm here in [state name], where a series of murders has BAFFLED the community... {town name} was a quiet town. Picket fences line the sidewalks, and children play in the streets. The neighbors NEVER thought THIS would happen, not in THEIR quiet little town."
"I always thought [insert homecoming queen's name here] was so happy, she had it all.... I can't believe she would do something like this."
In a nutshell, if you want to avoid the true dangerous crazies, here's some steps to follow:
> stay away from small, quiet towns
> NEVER move in next door to someone who keeps a wood chipper in their backyard ALL THE TIME
> NEVER move in next door to a single, quiet, NORMAL-looking man who's charming and who has train sets and hand puppets
> NEVER move next door to someone who's nice at first, but occasionally a little frightening
> never move into a neighborhood that's nice, quiet, and perfect norman rockwell
> never move into a neighborhood with a lot of nice quiet people and a drastically alternating pet and animal population
> Never move in next door to someone who has a picket fence surrounding their yard and a gingerbread cottage theme running over their house
>never move into a neighborhood frequently featured in the news beginning with the line "It was a quiet little town, until one day...."
6/06/02
1:31pm
NORMAL PEOPLE ARE THE MOST DANGEROUS FREAKS (PART II)
OK. So I have successfully ousted myself as a non-normal. Then again, I think that was probably out there from day 1. Either way, my gripe is, after all the evidence of murderer's "normal" behaviour, how are we as a society still so unawares of what's going on around us and sometimes right next door to us?
In my case, just as an example, I was assaulted a couple of years ago. The guy who did it LOOKED completely normal, like someone you'd take home to meet the parents. Turns out, the guy had quite the record. Repeat offender, violating parole, pseudo-recovering CRACKHEAD. I mean, COME ON. The worst part: The cops put ME on trial. They asked me things like Did I start the fight, did I provoke this guy in any way, what was I WEARING? CHRIST! I looked the sergeant in the eye and asked him if his department always blamed the victim or if this was some sort of old policy from pre-women's sufferage days that they just never threw out. he got so flustered that he started making EXCUSES for this guy that nearly beat me to death. The guy was drunk, he was drinking JACK DANIELS (which, truth be known, I can out away quite a bit of Jack myself, but I don't go out afterward and try to kill people I don't know), etc. I can't even explain how furious I was. I ended up doing all the detective work the police shoould have been doing, and I tracked the guy down, brought the cops pictures, and gave them his name and address. I don't even have any training in that one, and it was done in a week.
When we got to the trial date, my father and mother came with me. My father was waiting to get a good look at this guy, and when he saw him, he asked me if I was SURE this was the guy. he asked if the guy looked that way when he beat me up, and I said yeah. Dad was upset. He was expecting some horrible beast of a man, and what he got was a baby-faced conservative-looking kid.
My point is, WHY do we keep this impression that normal is better, when the so-called normal people are the most messed up ones psychologically? If we want to take it one step further of how fact is stranger than fiction: FILM STORIES. Seriously. We watch these films with women and men who appear EXTRA normal, and they turn out to be the most heinous villains. One film I can think of is The In Crowd, where a rich bitch befriends a "working class" girl, then totally goes more insane than she was, and tries to frame miss workergirl as a murdering psycho. Everyone suspects that the workergirl is a murderingpsycho, and they lock her up. Rich bitch goes free to kill again. It finally takes one of the rich bitch's own kind to figure out the truth, and they devise a plan to show everyone at the country club that the rich bitch is the real psycho and has been a serial murderer for some time. So, to spoil the movie: End scene there's a watery swimming pool conflict between rich bitch and workergirl, FINALLY everyone SEES that this chick is TRULY off her rocker, and only then do they stop persecuting the Outsider. The rich bitch psycho then goes on to make a speech, completely flipping out and showing her contempt for everyone at the countryclub, telling them STILL that the workergirl was an Outsider, and CRAZY, and that she, the rich bitch, was not crazy.... Denial. Gotta love it.
So as a society, think about this one: we're DOOOMED. We work so hard at finding things we consider "normal" and therefore "safe" that we have begun to breed psychosis and murder into the society, and push out the "freaks" (who are usually the more adjusted individuals, and who go on to make up 90% of the artists, geniuses, inventors, mathematicians, and scientists, by the way). And this is a good thing WHY?
Time to smell the coffee... seriously.
>The U.S. has a great athletics department in most of the public schools.... not enough funding half the time for the arts and music programs, but wow, they have great-looking football and basketball uniforms, don't they?
>The U.S. (oddly enough) is ranked amongst the lowest in the world in education-- you mean Football isn't Physics?
>The U.S. has a habit of paying next to nothing for teachers and nurses... and then wonder why the healthcare and education systems suck.
>Traditionally U.S. corporations cut back their training departments the minute a recession hits or they haven't met the numbers they were hoping to hit, thus sacrificing quality products and potentially even the safety of everyone involved-- including the consumer. You think factory workers in a pharmaceutical company just KNOW how to work heavy machinery? There's someone out there who trains them, and who keeps them up to speed.
>A company will hire you if you have experience, but only if you don't have enough of a degree backing that experience to ask for more money.
>A masters degree will get the response "needs more experience" for a position that asks for an instructional designer with no experience. Don't ask me... it happened to me. Later found out my would-be job was usurped by a recent graduate with a four-year Bachelors degree, who needed a greencard to work in this country and who barely (and I mean BARELY spoke English).
>So basically, if I'm reading this right, the US wants everyone to be educated and up-to-speed on everything, HOW exactly? Everyone's expected to be well-adjusted and happy-normal WHY?
On one hand we have Hollywood showing us that popularity is everything, geeks and freaks are not to be accepted, YET-- the popular "normal" ones are shown on news reports as having grown up and graduated to become the quiet ones we warn each other about, police having found 20 bodies in the basement. And those ones always make the best thriller movies, don't they?
How many times do we HONESTLY see a true FREAK in the news? There was Columbine, yes, but honestly, look at those kids. They weren't true freaks. Listening to Rammstein (which, by the way, when translated to english turns out to be mostly love songs, believe it or not) or KMFDM does not make you a "goth" by any means. As sorry as I feel for the parents of the kids that died, I feel more sorry that those kids that did it were labelled goth. Anger is for channeling to the written word. Sadness is the stuff of suicide. A true goth would have died quietly with a suicide note ranting at the cruel world that killed them-- not gone into a school and taken those that hurt them with them. Totally not goth behaviour. And how many warning signs were there? Geez. After that, suddenly the schools became more "compassionate" toward their "freak" crowds... PLEASE. They just found the evidence they needed to invade the poor kids' privacy even more, and get the goodguy badge for doing it.
Besides, any REAL goth can tell you, if you're a goth, you NEVER claim to be a goth. I'm not a goth, either.
Sooo.. I have theory on this one. I think the reason people in general tend to block out next-door serial murderers is because they consider themselves "normal" and "safe. The guy next door-- sure he drags heavy bags out to the curb and sure they leak blood from time to time, but he LOOKS "normal" and is therefore "safe. The lil freak kids down the road who tend to get rowdy on occasion when drinking, well, clearly THEY'RE odd and therefore devil worshippers and naturally are sacrificing humans to the devil, better call the cops. *please note my heavy sarcasm here*
I think the worst thing I ever did in my highschool years was stay up for three days straight at my friend Jen's house (we had an all-weekend sleepover). We watched movies, dyed our hair purple and red with Kool-Aid, then on the morning of the third day, we sat out on the roof of her garage, watching the sunrise. Her neighbors (who were terrified of us for some reason) came outside, and we called out to them and said hello. They ran back inside. We got giddy and decided to mess with them. Next time they came out, we asked them if they knew why boats were disappearing in the Bermuda Triangle, then replied that Elvis needed the boats.
OOooohhh.. watch out, we're so terrifying! Oh my goth!
In conclusion, I believe society is doomed to failure, because almost everyone is so terrified of the smart people with creative ability that they would rather breed with the star athlete instead-- who has severe self-esteem issues, and is completely repressed, and wow, what about that genetic psychosis running on both his mom and dad's bloodlines? FUN. Gimme some of THAT for my kids! So instead, the "freaks" --aka the well-adjusted individuals with intelligence and enlightenment-- are being outcast along with the educated, the creative, and the logical from society's general genepool to make way for the athletic, the superior build (nope.. no drugs THERE), and the psychotic tendencies. We're supposed to be sooo advanced, and yet we're still thinking with the things between our legs.... So much for the "thinking" animal. Society will eventually be as dumb and non-functional as a box of purebred dalmations.
Or will the serial killers thin the herd?
1:31pm
NORMAL PEOPLE ARE THE MOST DANGEROUS FREAKS (PART II)
OK. So I have successfully ousted myself as a non-normal. Then again, I think that was probably out there from day 1. Either way, my gripe is, after all the evidence of murderer's "normal" behaviour, how are we as a society still so unawares of what's going on around us and sometimes right next door to us?
In my case, just as an example, I was assaulted a couple of years ago. The guy who did it LOOKED completely normal, like someone you'd take home to meet the parents. Turns out, the guy had quite the record. Repeat offender, violating parole, pseudo-recovering CRACKHEAD. I mean, COME ON. The worst part: The cops put ME on trial. They asked me things like Did I start the fight, did I provoke this guy in any way, what was I WEARING? CHRIST! I looked the sergeant in the eye and asked him if his department always blamed the victim or if this was some sort of old policy from pre-women's sufferage days that they just never threw out. he got so flustered that he started making EXCUSES for this guy that nearly beat me to death. The guy was drunk, he was drinking JACK DANIELS (which, truth be known, I can out away quite a bit of Jack myself, but I don't go out afterward and try to kill people I don't know), etc. I can't even explain how furious I was. I ended up doing all the detective work the police shoould have been doing, and I tracked the guy down, brought the cops pictures, and gave them his name and address. I don't even have any training in that one, and it was done in a week.
When we got to the trial date, my father and mother came with me. My father was waiting to get a good look at this guy, and when he saw him, he asked me if I was SURE this was the guy. he asked if the guy looked that way when he beat me up, and I said yeah. Dad was upset. He was expecting some horrible beast of a man, and what he got was a baby-faced conservative-looking kid.
My point is, WHY do we keep this impression that normal is better, when the so-called normal people are the most messed up ones psychologically? If we want to take it one step further of how fact is stranger than fiction: FILM STORIES. Seriously. We watch these films with women and men who appear EXTRA normal, and they turn out to be the most heinous villains. One film I can think of is The In Crowd, where a rich bitch befriends a "working class" girl, then totally goes more insane than she was, and tries to frame miss workergirl as a murdering psycho. Everyone suspects that the workergirl is a murderingpsycho, and they lock her up. Rich bitch goes free to kill again. It finally takes one of the rich bitch's own kind to figure out the truth, and they devise a plan to show everyone at the country club that the rich bitch is the real psycho and has been a serial murderer for some time. So, to spoil the movie: End scene there's a watery swimming pool conflict between rich bitch and workergirl, FINALLY everyone SEES that this chick is TRULY off her rocker, and only then do they stop persecuting the Outsider. The rich bitch psycho then goes on to make a speech, completely flipping out and showing her contempt for everyone at the countryclub, telling them STILL that the workergirl was an Outsider, and CRAZY, and that she, the rich bitch, was not crazy.... Denial. Gotta love it.
So as a society, think about this one: we're DOOOMED. We work so hard at finding things we consider "normal" and therefore "safe" that we have begun to breed psychosis and murder into the society, and push out the "freaks" (who are usually the more adjusted individuals, and who go on to make up 90% of the artists, geniuses, inventors, mathematicians, and scientists, by the way). And this is a good thing WHY?
Time to smell the coffee... seriously.
>The U.S. has a great athletics department in most of the public schools.... not enough funding half the time for the arts and music programs, but wow, they have great-looking football and basketball uniforms, don't they?
>The U.S. (oddly enough) is ranked amongst the lowest in the world in education-- you mean Football isn't Physics?
>The U.S. has a habit of paying next to nothing for teachers and nurses... and then wonder why the healthcare and education systems suck.
>Traditionally U.S. corporations cut back their training departments the minute a recession hits or they haven't met the numbers they were hoping to hit, thus sacrificing quality products and potentially even the safety of everyone involved-- including the consumer. You think factory workers in a pharmaceutical company just KNOW how to work heavy machinery? There's someone out there who trains them, and who keeps them up to speed.
>A company will hire you if you have experience, but only if you don't have enough of a degree backing that experience to ask for more money.
>A masters degree will get the response "needs more experience" for a position that asks for an instructional designer with no experience. Don't ask me... it happened to me. Later found out my would-be job was usurped by a recent graduate with a four-year Bachelors degree, who needed a greencard to work in this country and who barely (and I mean BARELY spoke English).
>So basically, if I'm reading this right, the US wants everyone to be educated and up-to-speed on everything, HOW exactly? Everyone's expected to be well-adjusted and happy-normal WHY?
On one hand we have Hollywood showing us that popularity is everything, geeks and freaks are not to be accepted, YET-- the popular "normal" ones are shown on news reports as having grown up and graduated to become the quiet ones we warn each other about, police having found 20 bodies in the basement. And those ones always make the best thriller movies, don't they?
How many times do we HONESTLY see a true FREAK in the news? There was Columbine, yes, but honestly, look at those kids. They weren't true freaks. Listening to Rammstein (which, by the way, when translated to english turns out to be mostly love songs, believe it or not) or KMFDM does not make you a "goth" by any means. As sorry as I feel for the parents of the kids that died, I feel more sorry that those kids that did it were labelled goth. Anger is for channeling to the written word. Sadness is the stuff of suicide. A true goth would have died quietly with a suicide note ranting at the cruel world that killed them-- not gone into a school and taken those that hurt them with them. Totally not goth behaviour. And how many warning signs were there? Geez. After that, suddenly the schools became more "compassionate" toward their "freak" crowds... PLEASE. They just found the evidence they needed to invade the poor kids' privacy even more, and get the goodguy badge for doing it.
Besides, any REAL goth can tell you, if you're a goth, you NEVER claim to be a goth. I'm not a goth, either.
Sooo.. I have theory on this one. I think the reason people in general tend to block out next-door serial murderers is because they consider themselves "normal" and "safe. The guy next door-- sure he drags heavy bags out to the curb and sure they leak blood from time to time, but he LOOKS "normal" and is therefore "safe. The lil freak kids down the road who tend to get rowdy on occasion when drinking, well, clearly THEY'RE odd and therefore devil worshippers and naturally are sacrificing humans to the devil, better call the cops. *please note my heavy sarcasm here*
I think the worst thing I ever did in my highschool years was stay up for three days straight at my friend Jen's house (we had an all-weekend sleepover). We watched movies, dyed our hair purple and red with Kool-Aid, then on the morning of the third day, we sat out on the roof of her garage, watching the sunrise. Her neighbors (who were terrified of us for some reason) came outside, and we called out to them and said hello. They ran back inside. We got giddy and decided to mess with them. Next time they came out, we asked them if they knew why boats were disappearing in the Bermuda Triangle, then replied that Elvis needed the boats.
OOooohhh.. watch out, we're so terrifying! Oh my goth!
In conclusion, I believe society is doomed to failure, because almost everyone is so terrified of the smart people with creative ability that they would rather breed with the star athlete instead-- who has severe self-esteem issues, and is completely repressed, and wow, what about that genetic psychosis running on both his mom and dad's bloodlines? FUN. Gimme some of THAT for my kids! So instead, the "freaks" --aka the well-adjusted individuals with intelligence and enlightenment-- are being outcast along with the educated, the creative, and the logical from society's general genepool to make way for the athletic, the superior build (nope.. no drugs THERE), and the psychotic tendencies. We're supposed to be sooo advanced, and yet we're still thinking with the things between our legs.... So much for the "thinking" animal. Society will eventually be as dumb and non-functional as a box of purebred dalmations.
Or will the serial killers thin the herd?
Wednesday, June 05, 2002
10:41pm
NORMAL PEOPLE ARE THE MOST DANGEROUS FREAKS
The Munsters... proving yet again just how society functions. In this episode the local normal kid wants to play with Eddie Munster, and he threatens him with exposure and blackmails him to do what he wants, bullying poor law-abiding Eddie Munster into doing something he doesn't want to do.
And how often have _I_ seen THAT happen? Way too often. Too much I've seen the "normal" and "god-fearing" people performing heinous acts of moral disgrace. And who gets blamed? The goths, the punks, the "freaks". How often have we seen it in the news? Always the slack-jawed neighbors are interviewed by the local news after some mass homicide or something TRULY twisted, and the neighbors ALWAYS have the SAME DAMNED RESPONSE: "Uhhhh.. I can't b'lieve it... he was so quiet", "Wow... she was so normal, I never would have expected it, she was so polite." And let's not forget the famous ones: "They were always very quiet and very polite. They never bothered anyone." --until they crashed two planes into the World Trade Center, of course. Why we haven't started to investigate the most seemingly normal people I don't know. Wrap yer teeth around this juicy tidbit, here's some more folks who were considered normal and non-threatening by those that knew them-- and just to show that women ARE as messed in the head as men, I'm including them here, too:
Jeffery Dahmer
Lizzy Borden
Ed Gein
Ted Bundy
Susan Smith-- a mother and a killer
John Wayne Gacy-- ok.. granted, he was a clown, but come on.. symbol of cheer.. eek
Lorena Bobbit-- not a serial murderer, but she wasn't all there, either
Beverly Allitt-- pediatric nurse
Albert De Salvo (interesting tidbit here, he was honored for his "Service" to his country by the State of TX-- the guy is also known as The Boston Strangler...
Joe Ball-- unassuming tavern owner who had some alligators as pets....
Adolph Hitler-- no one saw it til it was waay too late
Peter Kurten-- aka The Dusseldorf Vampire, married even, but described in hindsight (always, right?) as "a narcissistic psychopath" and "a king of sexual perverts"...
John George Haigh-- aka The Acid Bath Murderer. This guy made FRIENDS with those he intended to kill, and drank their blood. FUN.
Just to name a few...
So my point is, the true freaks are your most average, normal, everyday, friendly unassuming next door neighbor. Bet they have a basement full of bodies and a skeleton in every closet--no pun intended.
So quit bothering the "freaks". They're the most normal because they aren't repressing.
And they're the safest neighbors to have. :)
NORMAL PEOPLE ARE THE MOST DANGEROUS FREAKS
The Munsters... proving yet again just how society functions. In this episode the local normal kid wants to play with Eddie Munster, and he threatens him with exposure and blackmails him to do what he wants, bullying poor law-abiding Eddie Munster into doing something he doesn't want to do.
And how often have _I_ seen THAT happen? Way too often. Too much I've seen the "normal" and "god-fearing" people performing heinous acts of moral disgrace. And who gets blamed? The goths, the punks, the "freaks". How often have we seen it in the news? Always the slack-jawed neighbors are interviewed by the local news after some mass homicide or something TRULY twisted, and the neighbors ALWAYS have the SAME DAMNED RESPONSE: "Uhhhh.. I can't b'lieve it... he was so quiet", "Wow... she was so normal, I never would have expected it, she was so polite." And let's not forget the famous ones: "They were always very quiet and very polite. They never bothered anyone." --until they crashed two planes into the World Trade Center, of course. Why we haven't started to investigate the most seemingly normal people I don't know. Wrap yer teeth around this juicy tidbit, here's some more folks who were considered normal and non-threatening by those that knew them-- and just to show that women ARE as messed in the head as men, I'm including them here, too:
Jeffery Dahmer
Lizzy Borden
Ed Gein
Ted Bundy
Susan Smith-- a mother and a killer
John Wayne Gacy-- ok.. granted, he was a clown, but come on.. symbol of cheer.. eek
Lorena Bobbit-- not a serial murderer, but she wasn't all there, either
Beverly Allitt-- pediatric nurse
Albert De Salvo (interesting tidbit here, he was honored for his "Service" to his country by the State of TX-- the guy is also known as The Boston Strangler...
Joe Ball-- unassuming tavern owner who had some alligators as pets....
Adolph Hitler-- no one saw it til it was waay too late
Peter Kurten-- aka The Dusseldorf Vampire, married even, but described in hindsight (always, right?) as "a narcissistic psychopath" and "a king of sexual perverts"...
John George Haigh-- aka The Acid Bath Murderer. This guy made FRIENDS with those he intended to kill, and drank their blood. FUN.
Just to name a few...
So my point is, the true freaks are your most average, normal, everyday, friendly unassuming next door neighbor. Bet they have a basement full of bodies and a skeleton in every closet--no pun intended.
So quit bothering the "freaks". They're the most normal because they aren't repressing.
And they're the safest neighbors to have. :)
6/05/02
3:31pm
THE ORIGINS?-- AND APPARENT RESURRECTION AND REHASHING-- OF MOOSECOCK!
I was chatting on MSN's instant mess with friend-Christian from Legion Studios when he gave me a link to his own personal web journal..... Well, I'm a voyeur, so I went and looked. One of his entries was about a friend of his saying "Moosecock!"
I almost peed myself laughing, because this brought back memories of 1996, it was a nice day, and the JCSC Cafeteria Crew were in full effect, hanging out on The Wall (which had a subsequent 35 foot drop to solid concrete, but that's where we loved to hang out while drunk). I admit it, I was drunk, and a few of my friends were more than drunk and about as stoned as your average rock quarry. We were all sitting there, and one of our friend's hats fell over the edge of the wall, and I said something to the effect of, "That sucks some major moosecock."
My one friend looked at me, blinked in that squinty fashion, and scratched out "What?!"
I looked right back at her and said, "MOOSECOCK!"
It became a popular phrase around the cafe, shouted at the cafeteria workers who looked at us a little too long while we created 7 foot sculpture from our garbage. Eventually the workers took our salt and pepper shakers so we would have nothing to build with, so we stole more from other tables. The workers kept taking them from our table, so as a revenge tactic, we systematically took ALL the salt and pepper shakers from every table in the cafeteria, and hid them behind one of our area's booth chairs. Sick thing is, after the workers found them, they put them all back out on the tables for people to use-- from off the gross sticky spider-webby floor. GACK!
So imagine my surprise when I see this same word pertaining to moose genitalia mentioned in my friend's journal! I will not claim that I am the origin of this phrase, however, merely a moosecock revivalist.
I am, however, the inventor of "Mansonite" to describe those weird lil spooky kids.
So... in ending... Christian's telling of the Moosecock Joke, as only he can tell it via MSN's Instant mess:
Puff Chrissy says:
Okay, okay. So there are two Canadians on a long trip in this pick-up truck. The radio isn’t working and they have run out of things to talk about, so the driver says, ‘Want to play Twenty-Questions?’ The other Canadian goes: ‘Okay. Go ahead and think of something.’ So the driver is thinking and thinking, and he finally comes up with something: moosecock.
‘Okay, I have something. Ask the first question.’ The other Canadian says, ‘Hmm…is it something that you can eat?’ The driver thinks about it and says ‘Well, I guess you could if you wanted to.’ The other Canadian says, ‘Moosecock?’ "
3:31pm
THE ORIGINS?-- AND APPARENT RESURRECTION AND REHASHING-- OF MOOSECOCK!
I was chatting on MSN's instant mess with friend-Christian from Legion Studios when he gave me a link to his own personal web journal..... Well, I'm a voyeur, so I went and looked. One of his entries was about a friend of his saying "Moosecock!"
I almost peed myself laughing, because this brought back memories of 1996, it was a nice day, and the JCSC Cafeteria Crew were in full effect, hanging out on The Wall (which had a subsequent 35 foot drop to solid concrete, but that's where we loved to hang out while drunk). I admit it, I was drunk, and a few of my friends were more than drunk and about as stoned as your average rock quarry. We were all sitting there, and one of our friend's hats fell over the edge of the wall, and I said something to the effect of, "That sucks some major moosecock."
My one friend looked at me, blinked in that squinty fashion, and scratched out "What?!"
I looked right back at her and said, "MOOSECOCK!"
It became a popular phrase around the cafe, shouted at the cafeteria workers who looked at us a little too long while we created 7 foot sculpture from our garbage. Eventually the workers took our salt and pepper shakers so we would have nothing to build with, so we stole more from other tables. The workers kept taking them from our table, so as a revenge tactic, we systematically took ALL the salt and pepper shakers from every table in the cafeteria, and hid them behind one of our area's booth chairs. Sick thing is, after the workers found them, they put them all back out on the tables for people to use-- from off the gross sticky spider-webby floor. GACK!
So imagine my surprise when I see this same word pertaining to moose genitalia mentioned in my friend's journal! I will not claim that I am the origin of this phrase, however, merely a moosecock revivalist.
I am, however, the inventor of "Mansonite" to describe those weird lil spooky kids.
So... in ending... Christian's telling of the Moosecock Joke, as only he can tell it via MSN's Instant mess:
Puff Chrissy says:
Okay, okay. So there are two Canadians on a long trip in this pick-up truck. The radio isn’t working and they have run out of things to talk about, so the driver says, ‘Want to play Twenty-Questions?’ The other Canadian goes: ‘Okay. Go ahead and think of something.’ So the driver is thinking and thinking, and he finally comes up with something: moosecock.
‘Okay, I have something. Ask the first question.’ The other Canadian says, ‘Hmm…is it something that you can eat?’ The driver thinks about it and says ‘Well, I guess you could if you wanted to.’ The other Canadian says, ‘Moosecock?’ "
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