Topics

i did these at some point.

  Adam West died yesterday.

I don't know where we found the TV, but it was so cool in the beginning. We could watch whatever and nobody would know what we saw. My brother found it. He hid it in the treehouse basement, in a secret room that had an exit in an abandoned office space. We put in a fridge and a couch and locks, because it was dangerous, watching what we wanted. We wanted to watch a television show for young adult girls, but the tv could air unregulated channels, too.

Something tipped the bureacrocy off. I don't know what. They kept coming by. My dad knew by that point. Mom I don't think she did. She stayed inside, always. She was good.

Someone wanted us in trouble. They were my enemy. But they told the buracracy a different name for my father, and the bureacrocy didn't know any better, so they came. I was trapped in the room with the tv and the fridge. I had almost no time to lock all the doors and turn the screen off. They nearly found me. I watched through the windows. They took my brother away. I still hadn't watched the tv. They brought my brother back; they had tortured him, but he didn't give away the tv or my secret.

Someone didn't like me, and they knew a secret about me. She knew I could read the sand, and it would tell me things, or I could use it to talk to distant friends. They used my secret to lie about me, to portray me as a traitor and having committed sedition. We had to run away. We barely escaped.

We went to a cafe that had a different name in the deepest hours of the night. It was a clandestine hangout of one of the five. I was so scared. We were all disguised. The concierge attacked my dad. My dad bit his ear off. We had to run. The concierge came with us.

We found a platuea that might be safe from the bureacracy. We had some elephants, to carry our stuff and help protect us. We had left the tv. It wasn't important. The concierge was trying to light a fire around the top to keep it safe until we got there, but he wasn't leaving a space for us to get in through. An elephant shot water at the fire, and the concierge was attacked by a white ape the size of an orangutan, with glowing red eyes. The concierge bit it's ear off.

The sand showed me a vision - I threw my bike into a chasm. I could be found through it.

Many people were following us. We had to run, because an agent was chasing us. We would all be tortured and killed if we were caught. There was a building, and we went inside. We tried to lock the door because he was coming. There were two doors. I went through the one on the right. There was a stream flowing away from me into another door, and I could see through heavy poles into the next room where there were complicated mechanisms. The first door opening caused a heavy thing to come down. It would take some people to lift it. I went through alone, and went down the chute with water. There was a place to jump to. I missed, and fell a long way into deep water. Body pieces floated up around me. I panicked and reset. I made the jump the next time, and it was a safe path but ultimately a dead end.

I reset again. I went through the door on the left. It took six people to lift the mechanism and killed two people. People could not slide past people holding up the mechanism. There was death in the door beyond. I reset. I tried to tell everyone to go through the door on the right. Some people still went through the left door. I told them to come around but the door had locked on them. They said they would take their chances.

We went down the chute. Some people made the jump. Most of us fell into the water. No dead body parts this time. I held my brother tightly. We swam for the surface. It was dark. We fell again, with the water, and landed on a conveyor belt. Around the corner, there were two directions, and the conveyor belt went really fast, so you could not possibly outrun it. Most people went straight. The halls looked like a highschool - huge concrete bricks painted so many times with cheap paint that the texture of the brick was nearly hidden. Some people went past as the coveyor belt to the right turned on. They went down a different path. I told everyone to stay together, stay to the left. Some people followed their loved ones to the right. I didn't know what was down there.

We were going around, could see the exit. We heard a saw. Horrible, blood curdling, loud. The conveyor belt to the right was a supercomputer that entered everyone into a slave pit, and they were dumped into water. Everyone was being killed by the blades hidden in there. We were frantic. We wanted to save our friends. We could not. I wanted to reset, but everyone said there was no time. A very few people were surviving unharmed. One of them was chasing us, the agent. We ran.

We split up. I was with Toff and two other people. I did not know them. We had had to abandon the bikes, they were too slow and unwieldy for the path we were going to take. We were walking in the mud, sewer mud. Toff examined her knuckles; they were infected. We were all afraid for her. She broke a branch off a monkey tree, hoping it was an antiseptic. She rubbed the branch on her knuckles. It seemed to be okay. A witch's dog appeared to us, barking. We were caught. She put us in a cell with my neighbors who were vampires. We were so glad to see each other. The witch came and told me that she was very pleased to have met me, the WARMTH MAGE, who could talk to sand. She would help us.

Then my phone rang and I woke up. The end.

My laptop's hard drive is daed. This is what was in there.  Is it possible to not replace it with same and put in this instead?  The sizes appear to be the same, but I don't know if my laptop is gonna be like NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE because it isn't made by HP or someshit, and waste all that time and money, if I do.

I've been following a satire tumblr, manslator, for a long time now.  I think it's kind of funny.  Over the last day or two the subject of sex work and sex workers, asexuals, and enthusiastic consent has popped up and I wondered what people here might think of it, because there was this conversation before here, I just don't remember what thread it was in.

The link goes right to where the posts are, but here's some stuff if you don't feel like clicking:

This blog, though run by civilians, respects sex workers and their rights (right to control their bodies, right to work in the field of their choosing, right to not be looked down upon or condescended to due to their chosen field, etc.). Sex workers are different than, for example, sex trafficking victims, who did NOT choose to enter the field of sex work and are therefore being coerced and are not consenting.

Transcript of screenshot: "I'm confused about you asking sex workers, given how they are literally coerced into sex in order to get the money they need to buy food/pay bills etc. and therefore are not consenting."

Everyone is coerced into work by capitalism. Sex work is no worse or better than any other type of labor. Stop disrespecting people's decisions about what type of labor is best able to support them.

on the subject of sex worker, (speaking as an ace sex worker, for what's it worth) the idea that you can respect the sex worker, but condemn the client is so incredibly toxic.

    When you condemn the client, you endanger the sex worker - you endanger our livelihoods by forcing us into work that is (equally coercive and dangerous, and) not nearly as lucrative; you endanger our lives by fostering an environment where clients don't want to give out the kind of details that will let an SW filter dangerous clients; you foster an environment where it "doesn't matter" whether a client does their homework to make sure they're not supporting trafficking, making it more likely that they won't.

    And by promoting the idea that women are incapable of determining whether they are being victimized, you perpetuate a culture in which women's words cannot be trusted, which, guess what? Perpetuates rape culture.

    The primary danger for sex workers stems directly from a cultural perception that sex workers are less; that sex workers are victims, that women are victimizable as sex workers. I mean, do people really not see how painting a vast swathe of the population as uniquely vulnerable to exploitation might make people who want someone to exploit take interest?

    (Otherwise, absolutely no complaints about the assessment of enthusiastic consent + asexuality + sex work. It's spot on)

[DO]

Tense.  Always tense. 

Don't say anything, because it might upset someone, it might offend someone, it might make people you respect view you with scorn, it might hurt someone else. 

Don't explain, because it doesn't matter anyway, it won't be listened to, it's just an excuse, it'll be seen to be a lie, it'll be taken out of context, it'll open unhealed wounds, it'll make things harder, it wasn't asked for.

Don't make eye contact, because they'll think you like them, think you hate them, think you're challenging them, think you want to fight, think you want to talk, think you have the energy to deal.

Don't react, because it'll start a fight, give them power, appear you were eavesdropping, be offensive, start a conversation, be shameful, make you look strange.

Don't speak, because nobody cares, nobody asked, it's you ignoring them, you aren't an expert, you don't have the energy, don't have the will, don't feel welcome anyway.

Don't... do anything rash, because you promised, you don't want to, you can't be doing that shit, people will see.

Tense.  Ever-present and the normal state, can't even tell anymore.  All the "don'ts" are fights against the DOs.  It's so very uncomfortable to do, when the default is don't, and it is usually more trouble than it's worth, it seems.  Stressful.

But the sleeping pills make it go away.  Sometimes.  Sometimes if you take enough, you find peace, emptiness, relaxation, a lack of DON'T because there is no DO.  No more barely registered thoughts of broken glass and broken skin, suppressed bitterness or anger or violence or terror or sadness, no more allergy symptoms either.  But that's just a bonus, really.  Side effect of can't breathe is a small price to pay to not guard against yourself, to not even have to.

Don't do it too often, though.  You know why.

http://www.pbs.org/newshour/making-sense/do-you-live-in-a-bubble-a-quiz-2/

So I took this quiz a while ago, saw it on Facebook.  This article says this guy, Charles Murray, decided your bubble is related to your socio-economic place in MURRICA.  The higher you score, the less out of touch you are with culture, and probably the more blue collar you are.  The lower your score, the higher your income bracket and ignorance of standard American culture.  Scores are out of 100.  I scored 37, which translates to Upper Middle Class.  For the record, "upper middle class" does not have a defined income bracket in this quiz at any point, while poverty is defined (and deep poverty further defined), and I have been living in deep poverty for the last 6 years at least.

I find this quiz to be very biased, and worse it draws more lines and creates more sides among the lower economic classes, and is based on what appears to be an elitist's view of stereotypical blue-collar tropes.

Example 1:  Have you ever made it through an entire episode of Ellen Degeneres, Dr. Phil, or Wendy Williams?  Do you watch any of these regularly? 

Example 2:  Do you regularly buy domestic mass marketed beer to stock your own fridge?  (Coors, Budweiser, Miller, and Busch are those listed).

Example 3: Have you ever lived for at least a year in the United States at a family income that was close to or below the poverty line?
    Graduate school doesn't count. Living unemployed with your family after college doesn't count.

Example 4:  Did you ever letter in anything that wasn't chess club or the debating team?


See, I just think (and I am fully aware that this is my opinion and nothing more) this is bullshit.  It bothers me that I'm being called an elitist rich (from my point of view) snob by some dude who interconnects "culture" with "money".  Or something.

What do you all think?

Found this on fb somewhere.  very 

http://wisdomofchopra.com/

"The future is inextricably connected to self-righteous photons"

"The unexplainable meditates on spiritual boundaries"

[1 lb strawberries]

Mostly tea, really.  But also preserves.  And chocolate banana bread later.

DEATH METAL TEA

3 BLOOD ORANGES
2 PINTS BLACKER THAN THE BLACKEST BLACKBERRIES
SALTED CHOCOLATE CARAMEL SAUCE
CINNAMIN STICKS
1/3 POUND NON SULPHURED PINEAPPLE, THE MOST BRUTAL OF ALL CITRUS FRUITS
AND FINALLY, MADAGASCAR VANILLA BEANS THAT ARE FRESH AND FRAGRAAAAANT

DISSECT THE BLOOD ORANGES
INTO 1/2 IN WIDE WEDGES
THEN PLACE THEM ON SEVERAL BAKING SHEETS

VISCERATE THE VANILLA BEANS
CHOP THEM INTO 1/4 IN PIECES
SPRINKLE OVER THE ORANGES

DRIZZLE THE SALTED CARAMEL SAUCE
OVER THE ORANGES AND VANILLA
LIKE THE TEARS OF ANGRY GODS

LET THAT SHIT SIT OVERNIGHT
IN THE DARK OF THE WORLD
THEY WILL LOSE SOME EXCESS MOISTURE

WHEN THE DAWN COMES
PUT THE SHEETS IN THE OVEN
AT 200 DEGREES(f)

WHEN THE ORANGES ARE SHRIVELLED
LIKE THE HEART OF A BEAST
YOU CAN TAKE THEM OUT TO COOL

DO THE SAME THING FOR THE BLACKBERRIES
YOU CAN ALSO SKIP LEAVING THEM OUT OVERNIGHT
BUT IT TAKES ABOUT TEN AND A HALF HOURS

CHOP UP THE PINEAPPLE
INTO 1/4 INCH BITS

PUT EVERYTHING IN THEIR COFFIN
A TIGHTLY SEALED CONTAINER

IT'S TIME TO PREPARE THE TEA
GET OUT YOUR TEA STRAINER

USE THREE CHUNKS OF PINEAPPLE
THREE CHUNKS OF BLACKBERRIES
THREE CHUNKS OF ORANGES

ONE STICK OF CINNAMON
AND, IF YOU LIKE,
5 WHOLE BLACK PEPPERCORNS

DROWN IT ALL IN COFFEEPOT HOT WATER
STEEP FOR FIVE MINUTES
GOOD FOR UP TO 3 USES

HYDRATE YOURSELF
WITH HAAAATRREEEEED



Plum and strawberry preserves

1 pound strawberries
7 plums
1/3 cup honey
a lot of sugar, probably 1 1/2 to 2 cups  (I didn't measure)
some cinnamon
Lemon juice, maybe 3 tbsp


Wash and cut up the plums any old way, because fuck it. Get rid of pits. Wash, de-stem, and cut up the strawberries into smaller pieces.  Throw them all in a saucepan.  Add sugar, cinnamon, and lemon juice.  Let it sit for an hour, maybe two.  Say fuck it again and start cooking them on high heat.  Add the honey.  Realize the plums are too hard, so reduce to low/mid-low heat.  Cook for another while, until they seem softer maybe.  Raise heat to high again, and hope for the best.  Get the candy thermometer and try to hold it steady while you stir, because your big pot has curry in it and the pan is too shallow to clip the thing to the side.  After it has been at a hard boil for a while, and the thermometer doesn't want to go above 200F for a while, take it off the heat and disinfect some canning jars and lids.  Damn near burn yourself with the vegetable sprayer, it builds character.  Scoop the fruit gunk into your jars.  Makes about 32 oz.




Orange blossom tea

5 cups of fresh orange blossom petals
1/8 cup cloves, maybe.  I didn't measure.
Black peppercorns? same amount?
1 lb strawberries

MAke sure your orange blossom petals don't have any bugs on them, and are clean.  Refrain from punching any babiesfrom the rage that the soggy horror of a mess gives you.  Put on a baking sheet, and bake in the oven at 200F, stirring every few minutes, until they are dry and curly.  This will not take long. They should be a sort of dark ivory color when they're done, and have reduced down to 1 cup.   Do the same with the strawberries, except leave them out overnight and then cook them, stirring every few hours. Add some cloves and black peppercorns.  Use a tbsp, maybe 1 1/2 in your tea strainer for one cup of tea, good for 2 or 3 uses.  A nice, flowery blend with darker notes.  Good with mesquite honey, but I'm pretty sure mesquite honey is good with everything.

Your avatar is amazing.  I love you.

If you are willing to grant me one, anyway. 

I am limited by finances alone, having gotten transportation marginally sorted out.

adarkroom.doublespeakgames.com

I've spent the last 6 hours playing this and I can't tear myself away.  Have yet to explore all the board, keep getting shot by assholes.

...and I would like to see evidence supporting or, preferrably, destroying this statement, so I can either know something new or shove it down the ignorant's throat.  Unfortunately, I don't know where to start searching, and I am wondering if perhaps I can get a link or name to start reading.

The expanded version of what the hell I'm talking about:

So there's this guy who's a friend of a friend of mine. He said that the economical situation in America is like a diamond; there's the 1% at the top, the very rich; there's the middle class, which comprises the most people; and then there's the poor, at the bottom, another 1%.  This guy is pretty okay, but every time I listen to him talk for an extended period of time he says something completely ignorant, but I don't have citations on me, so instead of correcting him with data all I can basically say is "Nuh uh!" and it aggravates me to be so ignorant myself. 

It's just a hope that someone can point me in the right direction and I'm not expecting anything, I'm just hopeless at researching is all.

http://www.hulu.com/watch/513224#i0,p0,d0

You need to have an account, because I guess it has an MA rating, but my god.  It's still a masterpiece of what the hell, oh right a child wrote this.  AN ENORMOUSLY TALENTED CHILD.

Your dog is adorably derpy in your avatar.

While I do not want a straight up recipe (since I'll be in a competition), I would like to ask if you have any tips for cooking goddamn amazing chili.  Do you have?

Also other people too, I don't mean to be dissing.

Due to being dumb and making decisions without fully comprehending the results, and needing to make friends with the locals, I just took myself out of the celestial order and became an avatar of an earth jinn.  I have to find a magic school (emphasis on earth) now.


Any ideas? Does anyone have the Second City book?  I'd like to take a Burning Sands or Ivory Kingdoms type of deal, what with being Ivory myself now, but there isn't a copy in the game store.

I'M DYING FOR A GAME OF L5R, but is 2am* and I can't go somewhere I'm likely to find one., so talkung about it seems like a good alternative. Anyway, i want to see if anyone else plays.Coyote, I know you mentioned you once played, but am not sure if you still do, or even want to discuss it.

Oh man, kotei is coming up soon, and Tucson has the first event of the season (we stole it out from under Phoenix. Take THAT,  you snobby bastards!) coupled with the newly released Torn Asunder set, which will be tourney legal if they aren't already, and 80 people expected to attend just for the card playing bit and not necessarily for the honor bit of the tourney, this is going to be a huge, awesome cl,usterfuck.  Oh, I am totally going to get into the honor side too. SO MUCH EXCITING, CAN'T EVEN STOP THINKING ABOUT IT.

Please excuse my enthusiasm, you who knew about it twenty years ago or so. I only discovered it last year, and I am getting pretty okay and wanna discuss things which may make me a better player. U

I want to go to the SoCal and Oklahoma events, too, because I want to hit that level of "weird fucker who obsesses over that game." Also, three kotei '13 prize packs, and a chance to play and meet new people. I doubt it'll happen, but I can always try in a few years when it isn't as much of a pipe dream.

I do not like the art in this set, save for a few of them (mostly the promos, the experienced versions of certain characters, and a handful of odds and ends. It looks like AEG just went to amateur hour at the local library, threw money at random fan art, and then slapped it onto the card.  I feel similarly about how the cards have made the environment. The cards are either STUPID REATARDED UNBLANCED GOOD for clans the forumites in winter court larping favored or ABSOLUTELY RUBBISH for clans and deck types that really needed some equalizer. Especially since their story is essentially saying okay that was a fun and engaging thing, now to set up the most shafted clan to gain a huge amount of equalization. Everyone ready for this? Yeah? Okay. BOOM shafted clan starts war with three enormous clans all at once, they'll probably not survive as a great clan after this, aaaand story gets canned midway through. Thanks a bunch, aeg. Totally love how you're going to kill my favorite deck because you wouldn't give them things they needed.  I hate you so much right now.


*It's actually 3 now. Stupid phone typing slowness.

Flavor mud: a combination of numerous spices and herbs mixed with olive oil. Consistency achieved is too thick to be called "sauce," so instead is called "mud," since it looks and feels like a moderate clay:top soil ratio mud (except that it smells good and tastes awesome after being cooked).

Today's mud features the following:
Fines herbes
Sage
Ground coriander
sea salt
Safflower... stuff. It's red and kind of tubey.
Tarragon
smoked paprika
dried shallots
Ground yellow mustard
poultry seasoning
seasoned meat tenderizer
liquid smoke
worsterwhatever
Olive oil

Meat:
Pork ribs, slightly suspect (do not recommend)

Sauce:
AWNJ JOOSS (no sugar added kind, such as odwalla or naked brands make)
Lemon curd
"Spicy" mango Thai dipping sauce
Worsterwhatever

Sweet onions
More paprika, salt, poultry seasoning, olive oil

Oven temp 350F (18 centimeters for you Europe spags)

Put the ribs in a cake pan and coat both sides with flavor mud.

Slice onions, add spices, mix well with generous amount of olive oil, also in a cake pan.

Put everything in the oven until it's done and you feel confident you won't die from eating it. This may take a few hours, up to 3.5ish.

Don't worry if it looks burnt, it's supposed to look like that. Onions should be caramelized before they are removed.

After removing meat from oven, add half a cup of juice, two and a half tbsp lemon curd, a couple bottle shakes of worsterwhatever, and a cup of that fake and yellow Thai gunk together in a small saucepan. Heat on low, mixing well so the curd is all squished up.

Serves you, unless your meat is still definitely okay. Probably about six, in that case.

Ingredients:
Pork chops, boneless and thinly sliced
Carrots (not the baby kind)
Ancho Chile powder
Lemon pepper
Ground mustard
Brown sugar
Orange juice
Worstershire
Liquid smoke
dried chopped onions
stick o' butter
stainless steel cookware and electric stove, none of which you've used before (important!)

First, start the carrots. Take a medium saucepan and melt the stick of butter in it on 7. 7 is a reasonable number for cold but- SHIT, IS BURNING! 5, 5, 5! Okay, is stop burning, but it's too hot still for it be by itself ahhhhhhh BROWN SUGAR AND HEAT 2. Okay. Not hot enough. Orange juice and back to 5. Cut up two or three carrots before the much begins bubbling too much and toss them in, peels and all. Cover.


Eye the small stainless steel pan with loathing. Know that it is going to be a pain to clean, especially if you can't manage to not burn the liquid. Season pork chops with the stuff, not using the brown sugar or orange juice yet. Throw it in the pan, season the other side, flip, remove from pan. Begin seasoning next chop FUCK pan is burning. Splash orange juice in, throw chop in. Begin the battle to not burn everything, alternating between juice, worsterwhatever and liquid smoke. Halfway there, things are looking good, major catastrophes avoided what the hell is that noise. Carrots are burning and what is that noise and WHY IS TGE BURNER TURNING HI RED WHEN IT'S STILL ON 5 HEAT GAWDEMMIT MY STOVE IS BROKEN. Turn burner off before it explodes or something and remove pot from heat. Deem carrots salvageable, despite burned sugar. Finish cooking chops. Regard horrible brown slop in pan, then pour it over the chops. Whatever.

Add snow and a terrible eagerness to please according to taste. Admit that it really didn't come out too bad. Feeds three people.

Beginner mode:

Step one: make sure there is about $25 in your money thing.
Step two: go to the grocery store.
Step three: Go to the front where they have hot, precooked meats like fried or baked chicken. Grab one of them. If the biscuits are there, grab them, too. If they have a corn side dish, grab it too. If not, fuck that corn, you've got better things to do than wait around for it to decide the hot table appliance is good enough for its presence.
Step 4: Go to the fresh fruits area. Fuck, you are dying for some sugar (or not I guess, but why would you be doing this step then?). Strawberries sound... okay. You guess. Strawberry goop sounds tastier at the moment, though. Holy fuck, are those ripe blackberries next to the red sugar glop? SHIT YES. GRAB THAT PACKAGE RIGHT NAO.
Step 5: okay, hands are getting full now. You probably should have grabbed a cart or basket. Oh well, there's only whipped cream left. Make the harrowing trek to the frozen dessert aisle and grab a container of that awesome sticky white shit.

At home or wherever, divvy up the chicken, biscuits, and any sides you decided to get while standing slackjawed at the meat counter. Cut biscuit in half, apply 5-8 berries, spoon a pile of glop onto that, and top with whip cream. Stuff that shit in your face hole.

Probably enough for two people, or four depending.

This Turkey I would like to eat before it goes bad, but eating the same thing every day until it's gone, well, I'm not so desperate that this sounds appealing. Can I ask you lovely wonderful people for any suggestions on what to do with leftovers so I can eat it without getting bored? Also it would be nice to have suggestions that are simple in the way of ingredients. As basic as you can think. Please! <3

I can't find the fucking quotes of the moment thread, so here's this:


Having an argument about schedule fubar with regards to it being ex's turn to take monkey for the holiday (I take him certain holidays on odd years, he does on evens.  He hasn't taken him a single holiday that he's supposed to this year so far).  Excuses, arguing, excuses, arguing and poking (I'm NOT sorry, because he shows no interest in taking a bigger role in monkey's life, and he ought to be ashamed), arguing and defensive, calling shenanigans, whining about how he doesn't get to go out, then this:

Me:  Go out on a weeknight.  Meet up with (GF) somewhere right after work and do something.  Stop taking your friends for granted and show a little appreciation and maybe they'll cut you a break occasionally and watch (his kids).
Stop whinging about how you can't do anything and Go Do Something.

Him: n't as I told u I save these text.

getting back in town so no drop him off on friday.  And as for friend and not apprectating them um how that got 4 u and roger and jen? Ya not well. 

Me:  I think you might be sending texts too quickly.  I didn't get a clear messageout of that except that you seem to be saying it isn't worth it to treat your friends with decency.

That's a fucked up thing to say, man.  It might be why you have no friends.

Him:  I don't give a shit about friend if they don't like honesty then they r not friendm so have a nice night and a good thanksgiving.


So I guess you were right, and him just being him IS a punishment.     I'm sorry I doubted you.

So, I realized a while ago - I don't really remember how long - that my life has been completely devoid of all meaning.  Even the monkey, who I love deeply (when I can feel things that have meaning) and genuinely feel pride in my duty towards, was the product of something completely meaningless.  I'm never going to tell him that, though.  He does have meaning, and his life will.  I'll make sure of it.



My duty as a parent, I realized last night, is to get him to adulthood safe and healthy - that's it.  But expanding "healthy" out to it's full equation means so many other things than physical well being - it means playtime, bedtime stories and music and kisses goodnight, teaching by example to be a decent human being, lessons about self-reliance and asking for help when you need it, socializing, the list is endless and goes on - that if I were explain it in just that first sentence, I wouldn't feel bad about myself and my role in being a parent.  It's my deal, not anyone else's. 



Fuck everyone and what they think about me.  I no longer have the time, patience, or luxury to keep these Negative Nancies around me, while I screw my head-brain up trying to achieve their approval while simultaneously trying to grasp the things I need to keep myself balanced and functioning.

That's what I'd like to say, but I think thinking like this and acting as such might stress the people I care about too much, because they care what people think about me.  Perhaps is best to not?  Perhaps.  I think so, maybe.



I existed (wouldn't call it living) for a solid twenty some odd years playing shit straight and safe and sane.  This led to an overabundance of having no fun whatsoever.  I've had it in the back of my mind for a year or two that life is short, shorter than most people think.  A lot of people realize this, yeah, that's cool, but it seems like they just get on about their days as if they were going to live another forty years, minimum.  They don't know how they're going to die, so they just sort of "Meh" at the world. 

Well, I'm not them.  I'm not anyone, except me.  I'm pretty sure I know that my life will probably end at my own hand, eventually.  Not soon, I think, not too terribly soon.  But I'll lose the fight someday, and it'll be game over, and what then?  What will I have done to excuse my life here?



The past couple of months have been tumultuous for me.  I'm somewhere different now, and I don't like it very much, but there's nothing I or anyone else can do about it.  Well, there is a thing I can do, and that thing is to make up for years lost being safe and sane and motherfucking boring as a piece of cowshit.  I'm ready for debauchery and obnoxiousness and laughing and grinning and baying at the moon, shrieking gaily and cawing and leaping and chasing and fighting and dancing and more laughing.  That will be the rest of my life, to the best of my ability to keep doing so.  I've been doing good at it so far, so that's a positive thing. 



This second, I feel like my brain is glazed over and has a frozen grin and grimace of cold hate and a scary leer all at the same time.  I didn't a few days ago, so I know it'll pass pretty soon, but it isn't a nice feeling.  I'm getting good at ignoring things about myself or things I feel that I don't like, so it's cool I guess.  It's just kind of unsettling to not be able to feel things, sort of.  Not deep things, anyway. 

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6TiXUF9xbTo

A ringing endorsement if I ever heard one.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9auOCbH5Ns4&feature=relmfu

Wait out the first 30 seconds, I think you'll appreciate it.

Seriously.  Like, for real.  As if I were trying to get a job (I am) and my best prospects lie in sales (they do) and what appeals to me most doesn't work for the vast majority of people I'd be selling to (it doesn't).

So, we're all surrounded by a bunch of people who Don't Get It, am I right?  Tell me I'm wrong.  At the very least, the people who just aren't seeing reality vastly outnumber the people who see, understand, and have accepted the reality we/you/people may or may not live in (rather than shoving their face skin back under their hats.  If you can't see it, it doesn't exist, yeah?).  That's one fact.

Here's another fact: From what I have observed, people like to be around people of the same awareness level.  It keeps the ostracizing to a minimum, and you get believed a lot more.  People in general like to be believed.  They like being right.  People who are dumber or less aware than an individual of a group might just write off the smarter/more aware person as less valid. 

Fact:  Strong personalities cause friction amongst themselves, even when they agree mostly.

Observation: Most people, ones who have not completely thrown off what I have seen as societal conditioning, will not explode at strangers or acquaintances.  Most people.  However, when there is a level of trust and understanding between good friends, arguments and fights may erupt from time to time.  These instances may become more frequent if both parties have strong personalities (see above).

Observation/Possible fact:  When people are stressed out, they want to blow up at the people or things or circumstances which are causing them stress.  However, this does not supercede the conditioning to remain polite and somewhat friendly to strangers and acquaintances, and letting off steam around people who don't take you seriously is worse than doing nothing about it.

Fact:  In most people (most, maybe even just many), stress that does not get released will be diverted unconsciously through another route.

Conclusion: The possibility exists that the feminism threads becoming so toxic is a combination of the above facts and observations.

I mean, maybe.  I could be wrong.

http://www.newser.com/article/da0inoc01/us-nuns-facing-vatican-order-to-reform-quash-dissent-will-hold-talks-with-church-leaders.html

An American nuns group rebuked by the Vatican said Friday it would hold talks with the bishops appointed to overhaul the organization but would not "compromise its mission."

The St. Louis meeting was the group's first national gathering since a Vatican review concluded the sisters had "serious doctrinal problems" and promoted "certain radical feminist themes" that undermine Catholic teaching on all-male priesthood, birth control and homosexuality. The nuns also were accused of remaining nearly silent in the fight against abortion.

After the Second Vatican Council of the 1960s, many religious sisters shed their habits and traditional roles as they sought to more fully engage the modern world. The nuns said prayer and Christ remained central to their work as they focused increasingly on Catholic social justice teaching, such as fighting poverty and advocating for civil rights.

I mean, it might not be as awesome as it sounds, but it goes a long way to making me think that just because a person is some kind of Christian doesn't automatically mean that they're assholes.

[SHUT UP SOME MORE!]

So, is it just me or is American society (I can't ask about other countries, I don't know about them at all) is like "SHUT UP, NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS.  SHUT UP AND GO AWAY.  And while you're SHUTTING UP, SHUT UP SOME MORE!"

See, I know DOUR, in his previously dead form, started just coming out and saying it, but I never really felt like he meant it, right?  Everybody else though (not PDites), they don't say it but that's what they want.  They don't want to hear about how the neighbor they see every day must work two full time jobs and a part time job to make ends meet, and it makes them physically ill.  They don't want to hear about how they can't do anything without having in some way benefited from slavery.  They don't want to know that YOU have problems.  This even comes into play among co-workers and friendly acquaintances. 

It's barely even about having more stuff than you do, because that seems like it would be the first accusation.  GOTTA GET MORE STUFF THAN NEIGHBOR JOE.  And I don't think it's because it makes them uncomfortable.  No, they just.  Don't.  Care.  Couldn't give a good god damn about anything that has no relation to themselves.  It's an inconvenience to their pursuit of having fun in their own way (which may or may not be False Slack, depending). 

Because I think most people are told from the beginning, "If you want anything, you have to be willing to take it because no one is going to give it to you."  There's a subtle message in there, something along the lines of, "Other people are just going to get in the way.  Leave them to worry about themselves, because they are of no consequence to winners.  And you are a winner, aren't you? Aren't you?  You better be."

It's like, you know, the rat race isn't really that much of a metaphor.  There is nothing that isn't a competition.  There is nothing that matters more than WINNING.  Everyone has to win, and if there's a winner, that means there's losers.

So just ditch the losers when they show a weakness, because they are nothing but baggage, getting in your way.

Comments, arguments, may I take your orders?

Post what you're eating while you're drunk.  Sober need not apply.



CROUTONS AND SOME KIND OF ALFREDO SAUCE NOMNOMNOM while drinking something pink.  There's grapefruit flavor in it, maybe.  Letters are too hard to read.

Holy men and women, it occurs to me, are always the ones who go against the grain.  They were imbued with a sense of right and wrong, and weren't perfect (though their sycophants may downplay the mistakes, or erase them from memory).  They got into trouble with The Man, because things they said were verboten and taboo. 

I am thinking that perhaps these men and women were simply larger than life folk who managed to create a big enough ruckus that a lot of people followed them.  It could be because they liked what they heard, or were me-tooists, or had their own agendas they could propagate more easily if they attached it to This Guy Over Here's idea.  Followers could even be people looking to stick it to their parents and THE MAN, whoever the man might be at the time. 

Thoghts?

QUESTION: What role does Barbie play in poor self esteem and body image in women?

I think we might need someone to play devil's advocate, where the fuck is Ippie?

He is kind, and sweet.  He cares about me.  He spends time with me.   He holds me close when I need him to, and gets excited over cool things.  He doesn't cuss, which is refreshing and different.  I mean, fuck, who doesn't cuss?  He gives me the things I need to survive, like warmth, friendship, companionship, support.  He gives me things that make surviving bearable, like a debate sparring partner, a partner in crime, a sounding board and critic for my ideas, someone to cherish and care for in return. 
Ring ring Huh?
Where is that coming from?

Ring ring.
Ring ring.  What is that noise?

RING.  RING.

Oh.

Ring ring! Snooze/Dismiss

Put thePillsbarrel inhereyour mouth. 

So there was this guy, you know, back in the sixties.  He was like any other Tucson teenager; cruising up and down Speedway, dating all the hot chicks, being personable and making friends, being curious about the world.  Wanting to know stuff.  More on that in a minute.

When I say he was personable, well, that doesn't quite cut it. 
He was totally charismatic.  Such a charmer! 
I can just see him now, pulling up to some hotties, being all,
"Hey lady, hey lady! Honey girl, you so fine. 
Don't you wanna, you know you wanna,
don't you wanna be mine?"
And they'd blush, and they'd giggle, and bat their eyelashes. 
His sweet talking self made them damp all in flashes. 
They hopped in his car, he drove away,
they fucked like bunnies, I'm sure.  Up until the day

He wondered.

This dude had his girl talk another girl up. 
Why this one, not that one, one never can tell. 
This guy had his girl tell the other one some dude liked her. 
Convinced her to go on a date. 

Told her he said, "Hey lady, hey lady!  Honey girl, you so fine. 
Don't you wanna, you know you wanna,
don't you wanna be mine?" 
She blushed, and she giggled. 
She cast her eyes down. 
But that sparkle in her eye soon turned dull as stone. 

The boy pulled up in his car, and he said, "Don't delay! 
Your date says to hurry.  Don't you worry 'bout bein' late! 
We'll pick him up, and I'll drop you guys off,"
his wolf eyes did glitter b'hind reflectors
             he refused to take off. 

He picked up his friend, and they drove off to the Empty. 
The girl must have begun to feel fidgety. 
"Hey lady, hey lady!" the boy said with a grin. 
             "I been wondering so long. 
What must it be like to end some other one's song?"

She lay in the desert, not really there anymore. 
She left a mother and father behind, and they mourned.

The boy, feeling pride, did decide to confide. 
Another of his girls in which to confide he did decide. 
Eventually, though,
bored of her he did grow. 

"Hey lady, hey lady.  I don't think you're so fine. 
I no longer want you, honey girl, to be mine." 
Gretchen grew angry, or so people did say. 
"You can't leave me.  I know things.  If you do, then you'll pay!" 


Well, what could he do?  She had pushed him too far. 
Poor Gretchen, and her sister, both fell in the trunk of his car. 

They, too, became fodder for Tucson's big Empty. 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Schmid

PHONE NUMBER HAS CHANGED. PM TO UPDATE.

Canada has a walk of fame! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canada%27s_Walk_of_Fame

I don't know what to be more surprised at; the fact that Canada felt they needed a walk of fame, the fact that this is out of the entire country of Canada, or the fact they found so many (137) people to include.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/05/08/maurice-sendak-dead_n_1499243.html?icid=maing-grid7|main5|dl1|sec1_lnk3%26pLid%3D158687

I guess those wild things weren't very harmless after all.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Citizen_science

http://www.scientificamerican.com/citizen-science/
www.planetary.org/blogs/emily-lakdawalla/2012/3433.html

I just heard about this concept during a survey.  I think this is pretty awesome, and normal people can do menial tasks like look at shit all day long.

What do you scientist spags think?  Have you guys heard of this?  WHY DOES NOBODY TELL ME THESE THINGS?

http://www.theboombox.com/2012/05/04/adam-yauch-dead/?icid=maing-grid7|main5|dl2|sec1_lnk1%26pLid%3D157970

I come bearing gifts!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OE2l6CPna4M

PACKAGE RECEIVED!   

Did you send a text this morning with your new contact number?

That guy in your avatar's face makes me want to punch a baby.  For real.

What's got two thumbs and a jar of apricot chutney? 

Good thing it arrived today, the weather is getting HOT HOT HOT.


PORTLAND VS TUCSON: PORTLAND WINS 2-1

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXu7fvFfIQQ

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=0UkJl8FmiMk#!

I have come to the realization over the last week or so that I don't know who I am, or what I believe in, anymore.  I hold up an image of the person I wanted to be when I was 16, or even 18, and it doesn't match hardly at all with who I am. 

When I was 16, I was positive that, while other people may work differently, I'd only be completely in love with one person, ever.  Now, I am in love with a couple of people, and have serious feelings for others which could evolve that way given time and opportunity, and am actively looking for open relationships.

When I was 16, I knew, knew, that principles were a better thing to have than doing stuff that would get me into trouble if I got caught.  Now, I'm breaking promises left and right like they were plates at a Greek wedding.  It isn't even as if I don't mean them when I make them, I just can't seem to follow through.

When I was 18, I hated hated HATED self-absorbed, shallow, attention whoring anyones.  Now, if I don't actively stay on top of my desire to talk about myself, I am one of those people (still hate them, though).

When I was 18, I never thought I'd be able to meet up with people over the internet.  It was too scary, too risky.  Now, I'm inviting dudes over for drinks after talking to them for a few hours on the interbutts.

When I was 16, I thought I was incapable of malicious thought or act.  Now it seems like that is the only thing I'm made of. 

There is no line I draw that I don't seem to cross eventually.  I have no idea where this is coming from.  I'm no good at self-reflection.  I'm not even sure this is a Tucson driven thing.  But what bothers me the most is that I don't really care if this trend continues. I don't know if that makes me a bad person, but I don't care if that's the case, either.

So there's this scholarship, right, where they want you to submit a piece of artwork that was inspired by Paul Frank products.  I wanted to do a WOMP and submit it.

I wanted to know if there's anyone who'd be cool with me using pictures of them minus heads and faces, a reverse WOMP if you will, for this purpose.