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Topics - Mesozoic Mister Nigel

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Or Kill Me / Portland Spring
« on: December 07, 2007, 09:24:30 pm »
This is not relevant to anything. I wrote it when I lived in Oakland about 12 years ago.

Spring is my favorite season in Portland.  It's no season at all

At home the air is weighty with the vapors of plants exploding into
a fury of reproduction, ripe with precipitation, reeking of the
human and animal and horticultural frenzy of lust for EVERYTHING
that takes over the inhabitants of the little rainy city.  The area
is covered in a blanket so green that it seethes, it gives one
little orgasms of greenness from looking at it and walking through
it.  Plum and cherry trees are thick with large pink and white
blossoms which drip to the sidewalk with the weight of their scent,
scent that buffets Portlandians on their way to and from work or
play or errands.  The famous roses have commenced opening and the
gardens are crowded with tourists from Japan, from Russia and
Germany and from the whole rest of the world, amazing locals that
there are so many rose fanciers that would seek out Portland and
insist that the gardens are so extraordinary as to be worth it.  And
there are rhododendrons in all the variety of colors and buzzing
with an assortment of insects.  The streetwashers every morning
leave the sidewalks steaming in the slanting sun, and anyone
lucky/unlucky enough to have business downtown at that time of day gets to watch the sun rise over the river and the bridges whle the espresso vendors set up and add the aroma of their wares to the
overall stench of Portland.

Or Kill Me / The Short People's Manifesto
« on: December 07, 2007, 07:49:45 pm »
My husband  found all my old essays and now I will be bothersome and post them here, one at a time.

The Short People's Manifesto

We are the Short, and we've had enough. This document is for the purposes of establishing our viewpoint on the following:

We recognize normal height as being less than 5'5". Therefore, a person being over the height of 5'5" is outside the range of normal, thereby deviant.

Passenger side airbags are the concerted effort of the Tall Regime to reduce our numbers by so-called "accidental" deaths in minor traffic accidents.

We will no longer tolerate the use of high counters and stovetops in newly constructed homes. These are deliberately placed at waist level for the Tall, causing people of normal height back strain and other health problems after prolonged use.

The designers and manufacturers of chairs, sofas, automobile and airplane seats, and other forms of seating MUST STOP their systematic terrorization of people of normal height through the use of excessively long seats which prevent the normal from sitting with comfort and dignity in almost all situations. This lack of dignity is engineered by the Tall Regime to keep us from promotion and positions of influence, thus furthering their diabolical dictatorship.

We strenuously object to the portrayal of actors of normal height as Tall. We are aware of the Hollywood sleight-of-lens used to promote the illusion that certain male and female actors are of greater-than-normal height, and we recognize that it is a ploy to brainwash our young into believing that all heroes are Tall, and conversely, that a person of normal height cannot be a hero. This is unacceptable. We demand that normal actors be shown at their true height, and that the Tall actors such as Jeff Goldblum be revealed as the horrible freaks they truly are.

At concerts, movies, and other public events a Tall area should be established near the back to accommodate those with special needs without allowing them to interfere with and monopolize the view which should rightfully be shared by all. They can see over our heads; however, we cannot see through their torsos.

We do not advocate discrimination against the Tall, we merely demand equality and fair treatment as the normal majority. WE ARE NOT PETITE: THEY ARE TALL.

We have a voice and we will not be silenced. It is time for the world to recognize its true majority and put an end to the tyrannical rule of those who would force the byproducts of their unnatural height upon everyone. 

Viva Revolution!

Or Kill Me / American snapshot
« on: December 03, 2007, 07:17:05 am »

Well, anyway, we’re back now and we must say that America is a dismal little tweaker-infested hellhole suitable mainly for staying indoors and fucking.

Because our room smelled like old-man scrotum, we went on a quest to find incense. On the way, we found a store called "ALWAYS 99 CENTS!" except a lot of the stuff within was not 99 cents, but in fact much more. It was well worth the visit nonetheless, as we obtained two drinking glasses from which to later imbibe wine, and also as we approached the cashier our way was blocked by a tweaker who was telling the manager "See the great thing about me, I mean is, I will work any TIME and I will do any THING! And if I don't know how to do it I learn fast!"

We managed to get through the checkout and left the store just as tweaker-guy was getting on his bicycle (no helmet; tweakers never wear helmets, only baseball caps) and riding away. We made our merry way (passing several more baseball-capped sketchy-looking cyclists) to a wholesome-looking bead store called (no shit, it was really called this) "Ree-Kreashons". It took us some time to figure out that this was meant to be pronounced “re-creations” and not “secretions” with an R.

There was a note on the door announcing "POTTY BREAK- BACK SOON" so we stood in the tiny, graveled parking lot for a few minutes until a plumpish, nerdish, acne-cursed young woman opened the door and skittishly apologized for the wait. "No problem" says we, "Have you any incense perchance?" which commenced the most agonizing 15-minute search during which we learned that her baby had climbed out of its high chair while she was in the bathroom, scaring her half to death but she was sure other babies have done it before and thank-goodness it was OK, all while the baby screamed and she added a few more pocks to her cratered face as she nervously regaled us with open-ended stories of eviction and her search for a new location.

Eventually she found the incense and we breathed a sigh of relief, quickly chose a few sticks, and were nearly home free when the husband arrived, stringy-haired, leaning on a cane seemingly more for effect than for support. He had a box of rings, which he plonked down on the counter and showed to me, saying "Preeeettttttyyy!" I humored him with "oh yes, aren't those nice" while straining toward the door. I had already put ten dollars on the counter but the girl was "wrapping" our incense in the back and somehow it was taking forever, and I thought about just bolting but my social conditioning is too strong.

"You like to wear pretty things? I'll let these go for five dollars" said the husband as the baby continued to wail. "I uh, don't wear much jewelry, thanks" I said, leaning a little on my other half. Pocky Girl came back with the incense and said "four dollars". "OK then," said the husband as he took the ten, and I watched warily as he pulled a five and a one from the drawer and handed them to me, and like a balloon cut from a string we were free and drifted quickly out the door on our own invisible wind with a hasty "Thank you have a great day" and then we were in the parking lot clambering into the car and exorcising the grimness of that sweet baby having addict parents by laughing and saying "Oh my God, fucking TWEAKERS" and I was joking about the name of the place "TWEA-KREASHONS" and we were on the way back to our old-man-balls room and passing the community service storefront that says "THUGZ OFF DRUGZ" and pretty soon we were on the bed fucking and then later we were on our way to dinner and caught in a freak hailstorm where suddenly there was a terrible wreck right there, just happening and the blue car in front of us went off the road and disappeared out of sight down an embankment and we parked by the field to give our names and phone numbers, just in case, and when we got back in and drove by there were two girls injured on the side of the road, bystanders covering one girl with a blanket just as we drove off, drove cautiously the rest of the way to the restaurant, pulling over for emergency vehicles from time to time, and then gorged ourselves on pizza and beer before driving back to the motel to fuck again.

Apple Talk / Actual serious question
« on: November 29, 2007, 09:19:20 pm »
Soooooooo I have been on this here board thing for a couple of weeks, and I'm starting to trust you people to some degree.
I noticed that most of you seem to know each other pretty well, as is normal and logical from being on a board together over time. My question is, how closely is wise and prudent to guard details of one's personal life and identity? Not knowing, I have been careful not to reveal anything about my family life, hobbies, or work. I figure my eating habits and education are unlikely to give too much away because lots of people take math classes and eat a lot of olives. My name is generic enough. Am I basically on the right track, or am I being needlessly paranoid?

LMNO has my email address, and from which could easily track down everything there is to know about me, but the letters LMNO seem inherently trustworthy.

Apple Talk / The formula to calculate the volume
« on: November 28, 2007, 07:48:59 am »
of a Sno-Cone:
1/3 π r^2 (2r + h)

Wait, does that even work?

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