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http://www.poopreport.com/phpBB/index.php

Ever since the accidental discovery of Poopreport, the universal reaction of pretty much everyone to its existence is summed up pretty well by a combination of  and

There's nothing especially horrifying about it. It's just... a genre of its own. Entirely its own. To a confusing degree.

This thread is dedicated to discussion of this forum, if anyone can bring themselves past the  point to actually formulate discussion, and also a repository for posts that belong here but accidentally end up in other threads.

Dude, your buddy Eartha is some kind of bugfuck lunatic, isn't she?    You should see the rambling, abusive PMs she's sending me... bragging about her degrees/certificates (TESOL? People brag about that? Really?) and her world travels. It's... kind of amusing, kind of sad, and completely bizarre.

Oh, and BadBeast is also a racist, misogynist twat with a two-by-four up his ass and a sense of humor from 1987.


Oh oh oh, also he is a poopy-bottom, and eats boogies.



(Edited for greater sensitivity)

I JUST LOOKED AT MYSELF IN THE MIRROR AND I LOOK FUCKING FANTASTIC. I SAID, "WHY HELLO, SCIENTIST!" AND THEN I BOUGHT MYSELF A BEER. JUST LOOK AT THAT GODDAMN HAIR, IT'S SO PERFECT I COULD CRY.

ANSWER ME THIS: I HAVE BEEN TRYING NOT TO SMOKE MUCH, BUT I THINK I COULD SCORE POINTS AND MAYBE EVEN GET ME TO SIT ALONE ON THE PORCH WITH MYSELF IF I OFFER ME A CIGARETTE. AND ONCE I'M ALONE ON THE PORCH WITH ME, I AM PRETTY SURE I COULD MAKE A MOVE AND MAYBE EVEN END UP GOING UPSTAIRS AND SPENDING THE NIGHT.

DO I RISK IT?

I LOVE THESE THINGS:

http://www.darkroastedblend.com/2012/02/surreal-abandoned-amusement-park-in.html

Twice recently, I've been on the receiving end of unsolicited advice as a result of making a statement. I forget the first one, but the second one was that I'd decided to add a Spanish class to my Spring schedule because I didn't think the homework would be too hard.

I was second-guessed by two people, and one of them told me I was "jumping to conclusions" about the homework not being too hard. Neither of them asked me anything about WHY I thought I could handle the homework.

Man, I understand having differing opinions, but for some reason it just seems weird when it's about my personal life choices and a class schedule they don't even know. At all. They didn't ask. WTF.

So, unsolicited opinions about personal decisions; rude, or not rude?

THANK YOU SO MUCH for introducing me to Zanger Rinus! I've been watching videos and listening to him all day! I love him SO SO MUCH!!!

Inspired by Mistre and the beautiful poem his father wrote for him when he was born, I thought I would post the poem I wrote after Eldest Female Offspring was born. It is the one hundred and ninety-first poem I wrote.

Birth Poem

Hey little girl, you with the big appetite

The first time I saw you, naked, squalling
laid on my belly with your cord still pulsing
oh darling, I was overcome with your hunger
you bruised my nipple with your voracity
you knew what to do and you set out for it.
Oh god I loved you from your first stirrings
I loved your kick and I loved your anger
your lust for life, your outraged screaming
your slimy wet nuzzlings at my bosom!
They counted your fingers and exclaimed
at how long they were, how strong you were.
I knew your strength, I'd felt it for months
counting the jolts in my belly and smiling
at our own inner secret, our union, our bond
and you, here, finally outside me, covered
in blood and vernix and all I could think of
was how soft your skin was, how beautiful
your hair. Eleven hours of labor, nothing!
I could do it again, on my head, arms tied!
Your father wept, proudly; like a little girl
was how he described it, like his daughter.
And you, my darling, my pride, oblivious
to us and to all but your discomfort at this
sudden change of environment, you slid
into our world all purple and mad, full of
the rage of the newborn, perfectly righteous,
perfectly formed, perfectly loved, and all,
everything, was in an instant perfectly right.

SIX NIGELS SINGING? ARE YOU MAD????

...I am incredibly relieved to see that there are people out there who attract even crazier people than I do:

http://imgur.com/a/r5kEb/

I don't know what subforum Shared Walls is in, and I can't find it. Will someone help a brother out? I have a piece I want to do on misanthropy as a product of the Con.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d5BdyIGtYcg

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

Being in school now is amazing, for one primary reason, and that reason is that I am receiving validation now for the ideas I had when I was in school 20 years ago that were dismissed. Worker alienation, corporate manipulation, the impossibility of endless corporate growth, the emergence of the imperial police state... all these ideas won me nothing but scoffing and mockery 20 years ago, but are now completely accepted as facts of the current breakdown. And, as awful as it is, I love it all, because it means that if those outrageous ideas of my 20-year-old-self are real and valid, than so, quite likely, are the other ideas.

In America, we have FREEDOM!™

http://www.courthousenews.com/2012/02/06/43643.htm

Yesterday, on a forum that is entirely populated by my close friends, I made a somewhat flippant comment about how Woot had an iPad for $459, and how I was bummed that I couldn't quite justify buying one for school. I had no idea how controversial this comment would turn out to be.

One friend said "why the hell would one *need* an ipad for school? that's ridiculous."

I said "I don't need one, that's why I said I couldn't justify buying it, but a lot of students buy them as an affordable alternative to notebook computers."

He then made a comment about how he gets annoyed by Apple cultists who have to have the latest version of every new gadget (not relevant to my situation), and another friend mentioned that you can get a Windows laptop for pretty cheap. Yet another person jumped in with "Don't buy anything for school; technology won't make you a better student, and at some point you'll probably have to use a website or software in college and I can guarantee that it won't be compatible with a tablet or even a Mac". He also said "The largest technological change in education has been online courses; I took half of mine on an old desktop". (He was an accounting major.)

Another student who has an iPad explained what she liked about it, what she uses it for, and said that so far it's been compatible with everything at her school (same school I'm transferring to, similar program) and got, essentially, called stupid.

I commented that it seems arrogant to me for anyone outside of their program to tell a student what tools will and won't be useful for them, and in response was told (by a former art student who dropped out about ten years ago) "It's not arrogant, it's called "advice".

Since I wasn't really expecting, when I made my original comment, to be informed about what I do or don't need, it took me a bit aback that people had such strong opinions about it. (I was also taken a bit aback by the fact of having so many friends who seem to think I'm too stupid to figure out what I need for myself, or ask for advice if I need it.)

However, now I'm curious; since there are a lot of current and recent students here, I would like to get your input on the usefulness of having a notebook or tablet computer. To me, the use seems completely obvious; however, evidently quite a few people just don't see it at all. Opinions?

Best thing I've read all weekend. 

http://www.loweringthebar.net/2012/02/bottle-rocket.html

8.    [Defendant] was highly intoxicated on this date and time, and decided in his drunken stupor that it would be a good idea to shoot bottle rockets out of his anus on the [Alpha Tau Omega fraternity] deck, located on the back of the ATO house.

    10.   [Defendant] placed a bottle rocket in his anus [and] ignited the fuse, but instead of launching, the bottle rocket blew up in Defendant's rectum, and this startled plaintiff and caused him to jump back, at which time he fell off of the ATO deck, and he became lodged between the deck and an air conditioner unit adjacent to the deck.

    13.    Per the applicable codes ... the deck in question should have had a railing, which comported with said codes.

    16.    ATO owed plaintiff a duty to provide a safe deck, including a railing, and ... a duty to supervise its guests and its own fraternity members, such as Defendant, and other under age persons, from consuming alcohol on its premises, which leads to stupid and dangerous activities, such as shooting bottle rockets out of one's own anus.

    18.   [Defendant] also owed plaintiff ... a duty of care not to drink under age, or to file bottle rockets out of his anus.

    19.   [Defendant] breached this duty when he both drank under age ... and attempted to fire a bottle rocket out of his anus while under the influence. The act of firing a bottle rocket, within Huntington City Limits, was also a crime.

    22.   Plaintiff asserts that the activity of underaged drinking and firing bottle rockets out of one's own anus constitutes an "ultra-hazardous" activity which exposes both of these defendant to strict liability.

My son asked if he could have a bunch of friends over tonight, for a taco party. Naturally, I assumed this had something to do with porn, but no; each of them is bringing a taco topping and they're going to hang out in the dining room, eating tacos.

I was like, wouldn't you rather be doing the kinds of things normal 12-year-olds did when I was a kid, like breaking into houses and stealing liquor?

But no.

Damn kids.

WTF is this even?

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1361839/

theyrule.net

This is the best thing I have ever watched. Episode #2 is AMAZING!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ofnlklih-Bk&feature=related

I asked this question in my sociology class yesterday and it shut the class down. I know we treat it as private property, but is it really?

The definition I am using (feel free to add your own definition if you don't agree with this one) is that money is a government-defined representation of the exchange of goods and services, used as currency in trade.

My dad comes over every Saturday and... well, I kind of just wish that there was someone here besides the kids to listen to this shit. It's a recap of the same things he's told me every week for the last 5 years, intermixed with horrifyingly personal reminiscence and personal information. This is a very different dad from the one I remember from just a few years ago... no less long-winded, but more scattered and less filtered. I have been getting (and trying to hide from) the feeling that this is the last wind of a man who is on the decline into dementia. He corners me in a room while I clean furiously, and tells me deeply personal stories, stories that often make me uncomfortable, but I can sense that he feels like they are important, and that I am one of the few people... or maybe the only person... he can tell them to. I am, he likes to remind me, his baby girl. His littlest daughter.

I'm not sure if this is better or worse than what we used to do on Saturdays, which is argue about politics. He said that I was the spitting image of his mother, Ida Bea, in personality as well as looks, and so Ida Bea is the name he calls me when I'm being obstinate or argumentative or opinionated. My dad used to love to get me riled up, because he said that everyone else is scared of him and I'm the only one who will get in his face and argue. God fucking damn, that man could piss me off. He would come over and almost before he was in the door he would posit some ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY BULLSHIT premise, and I would tear it apart while he defended it and I became increasingly enraged and frustrated, pulling myself as tall as I could and glaring up at this big smug motherfucker in his fucking green beret and yelling "THAT IS FUCKING BULLSHIT!".

Eventually I would defeat him and he would ruffle my hair and say "OK, Ida Bea, you win." After years of this, when he revealed to me that he was just messing with me because he liked that I would argue, I was a combination of angry, proud, and relieved... because it always dismayed me that this man I knew was brilliant (Well, he's also a medic and a chaplain, commander of a ranger base, and has a Master's degree in education) would come to me with arguments that it seemed to me only the mentally defective (such as Tea Partiers) could support. My dad is--or was--a troll. Most of the time I thought he was full of shit until he started taking me to his council meetings and dinners and events, but I realized one night when he left me alone at a table with two generals who laughed at the fact that I bossed my dad and he meekly said "yes, dear" and went to do my bidding... oh. Oh... my dad, Daddy, he is the real deal, even though he's just a sergeant. They said "In all these years I've never seen him take orders from anyone... little girl, you don't know your power!" and they laughed and laughed, making large of it. Years later, another dinner at a table with other generals, and one of them said "You don't really know who your father is, yet". It was a statement, not a question. So I know that in addition to the pages of documents of things that I know, some of which were declassified the year I turned 30 (That's when I found out why he was gone during my infancy, for which my mother never forgave him) there is a great deal more to come. Probably among them things that I don't want to know.

In addition, of course, to the things he tells me that I already don't want to know. I won't go into details but my father's romantic history has more shocking, more tawdry, and more tragic than anything I've ever seen in a movie or read in Henry Miller. Fucking hell, dad.

A year or so ago my dad was convicted of voter fraud. Voter fraud. What the shit, dad? For voting under my dead brother's name and the name of my missing-presumed-dead uncle (allegedly a mercenary; also allegedly a crossdressing burlesque performer who, in his youth, went by the stage name of "April"). Local news and a random "debunking" website latched onto the story and attempted to debunk my father's military record, accusing him of fraud based on the inconsistency of his stories with public military records. During the trial I learned two things; one, that my father has been diagnosed with Alzheimers, and two, which the judge said while looking me straight in the eye, that my father's military record is exactly what he has claimed, and more. The judge said in court, on record, that my father is a bona-fide hero. So, while I know he has also been a wily old bastard, and fuck-all knows what kinds of schemes he's planned up and what I have yet to learn, I also know that all the crazy tales he has told me are true. That he has taken part in incredible, historical POW rescues. That he is a remarkable, and honorable, man.

He talks a lot, recently, about how everyone will come out of the woodwork when he dies, looking for a slice of the pie. They don't know that there is no pie, that he has put all of his properties into other people's names, that there is no inheritance to be had there. That his inheritance is the act of having put up with him over the years, his trolling and stories and bigness and loudness and sharp, sharp eyes. That his inheritance is him putting his big brown hand on my head and saying, "OK, Ida Bea".

These are some of the best ones I've ever seen: http://optillusions.tumblr.com/

I haven't seen this posted here yet but it seems like something you spags would like: http://www.meatpaper.com/

Meatpaper is a print magazine of art and ideas about meat. We like metaphors more than marinating tips. We are your journal of meat culture.

I think you will really appreciate this. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sz0SnpN_O00

http://www.ebay.com/itm/170603519277

What

Holy shit, this looks fascinating! http://www.ournixon.com/

I just heard your rant from Friday (it got buried somehow under a bunch of school closure notifications and other randomness) and YOU'RE TOTALLY RIGHT.

I would love to hear you expand on that, and in the meantime I have stuff to think about. Especially since that is very much my area of interest; not just the psychology, but the accompanying biology because it's all interconnected.

I am not really complaining. I could be on my way to a party right now. But I'm tired so I decided to stay home, have a glass of wine, and crash early.

But it is kind of interesting that NOT EVEN ONE of the (normally busy) forums which I normally post on has had more than one new post in the last hour.

Also, even my kids are going to bed early. My son is all "I'm tired, gonna go to bed now".

What is the deal?

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2086527/Costa-Concordia-accident-Pictures-cruise-ship-sinking-coast-Italy-Titanic-like-scene.html

According to a friend-of-a-friend, this was the same ship she was on that tore its hull open hitting a dock in Sicily. Their departure was delayed while it was being repaired, but then as they were leaving they hit a tanker.

I bet the captain's a drunk.

http://www.oregonlive.com/portland/index.ssf/2012/01/explosions_echo_area_near_sout.html

What this story doesn't mention is that Danny Chaoflux is in the hospital being treated for injuries to his hands and arm from subduing the gunman while the dude and his kid escaped.

I don't have the full story yet, but I did hear that the wounds aren't major.

http://www.facebook.com/kalera/posts/10150481193514069?notif_t=feed_comment

http://members.shaw.ca/tju/jhg.htm

... but I think our forum immune system has developed AIDS.

yeah, I know, I'm the last asshole on earth whose place it is to say something about this, and feel free to bitch-slap me for being a hypocrite, but is there any way to scale it down so that we're not completely feeding the lamest of lame troll posts and simultaneously treating all n00bs as if they are assholes? Maybe my trolldar is way off but that Holist guy seems OK, maybe keeping it to gentle suggestions about the punctuation until he gets to 50 posts before ripping him an auxiliary vagina?

There are some good threads out there.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYki4s73Kwg&feature=related

What

help!

I love this. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FK9nAqS4C2I&feature=relmfu

Let's start with the fact that I like this chick: http://www.metacafe.com/watch/2391884/mixed_minute_one_drop_rule/

Also, here is a project she spoke of which is about being multiracial Asian and other: http://seaweedproductions.com/the-hapa-project/hapa-about/

OK. Now, I will talk about what it's like to be multi-racial. I will start with the fact that growing up, most of my white friends said things like "I don't think about race" and "I don't think of you as being non-white".

I probably don't have to dissect those statements for the people here.

It's a given that if you are white, you don't have to think about race, because you are the "default". However, those of us who are not technically (or legally) white do have to think about it. I am in an interesting position as a nonwhite person who is really on the borders of being able to "pass". I have light skin and freckles, and my black hair is curly and not kinky. I could possibly "pass" with an uncritical audience who were willing to overlook my obviously black and native american features. I am, in fact, half white... half Norwegian/Scottish, even, and it doesn't get a whole lot more white than that. But I digress.

In 1995, I married a white man, and proceeded to have children with him. One is a blue-eyed blond with freckles, a fabulously homegrown cornfed-looking white boy of almost overwhelming American (white) good looks. The fact that he looks almost exactly like my (Native and black) father is of no matter in terms of how people perceive him; he is functionally white for all intents and purposes. It makes me feel like sicking up in my mouth a little to write out things like "functionally white". But we (and by we I mean anyone who is aware of the fucked state of race relations) all know it's a wretched part of reality.

My son, despite being genetically a "man of color", will receive the benefits of being a white man in this society. In addition, he will receive the benefit of being incredibly handsome, which is his nonwhite grandfather's legacy. Truly the best of both worlds.

So. Let's talk about my oldest daughter.

She, by some social standards, got fucked in the genetic lottery. While my son has my slimness and his father's pale coloring, my daughter got my coloring and her father's chub. So we made a gorgeous white boy and a chubby young woman (with perhaps ironically classic 1920's-silent-film-(white)-beauty features) who identifies as "not-white", even though by recent Federal ruling she does not legally qualify for any scholarships or programs for black women.

I don't worry for her future, for many reasons including that she is absolutely, objectively a genius, and incredibly charming and socially adept, and she has a college fund. However, I get to watch this bizarre racial showdown of my own children play out right before my eyes; the popular blonde athlete and the little girl about whom a friend's child once asked, "Mom, why are Nigel and Jeti black, but Taro and Deedle are white?"

So, my oldest daughter and I are black. It's kind of weird. It's weird when I hear Jeti on the phone trying to describe her ethnicity to a friend. It's weird hearing Taro telling someone "Well, my grandfather is black and indian but I guess I'm basically white..." and it's weird anytime I date a white guy who is looking for "authenticity", because I ain't got it. I am authentically Portland, authentically Pacific Northwest, authentically a flameworker, and I have years of authenticity as a retail employee and a coffee jockey, but I am not authentically racially goddamn anything. Really.

Other than the fact that being not-white makes a person different from the default, and you can't escape it or not-know it. Ever. Reminders are everywhere and constant. I look forward to the "browning of America" because it would be awesome for me, and all three of my kids, the white one, the black one, and the one who is still disconnected from racial identity, to just relax and feel normal. For a change.

Forever and ever, amen.

Today I got an email from the Financial Aid office that my application is complete and approved and I will get an award letter next week.

I have been half-convinced that something was going to go horribly wrong and I wouldn't get to go to school after all, since every time I've tried before something major went down that snatched defeat out of the jaws of victory.

But this time, I AM IN! I AM A REAL LIVE COLLEGE STUDENT OMG OMG OMG!!!!

Classes start in six days and I even have all my books.

I am so thrilled I could cry!

Now to start applying for scholarships.

I just now went to the Sketchy-Mart to buy a pack of cigarettes, despite my intent to swear off them. As I exit and approach my car, a tiny, curvy, hijab-sporting woman runs up to me.

"Hey!" she calls in a vaguely Northern African accent, "One dallah for a cigarettes?"

Mildly confused, I say "You want a cigarette?"

"No," she says, "I want a dallah for buy cigarettes."

I say, "Oh, sure, I'll give you a dollar."

Then she peers at my throat and says "Nice necklace! I have same one!" and pulls aside her hijab to show me her five-fingered hand of Eris.

I say "Thank you!" and she says "Thank you! Happy New Year!"

I hand her a dollar, and she runs into the store. I proceed to my car and drive home.

http://coedmagazine.com/2010/09/27/the-15-most-sexually-suggestive-katy-perry-animated-gifs/

IT IS THE END OF 2011 AND I CAN'T GET DOWN FROM WEATHERTOP.

The things people do to each other, PD. I can't get away from it anymore. On the butte where we had our first kiss a boy left his girlfriend's body. At the piers under the bridge a child lay bound in the ninebarks for a week before she died.

These are only the beginning places, PD, and I can't get away from it. I can't get away from the bodies buried in the sand.

They go to the police and the police don't listen. You're just a kid imagining things; shut up, go home.

It's everywhere.

I can't run.

...The owner at Ocean Marketing going apeshit on some poor guy who just wants to know whether he's going to get some game controllers he ordered by Christmas:

http://penny-arcade.com/resources/just-wow1.html

Someone posted a Sondra Prill video I've never seen before!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uy8fBkHqruY

AhHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAGH

How have I not seen this before? HOW?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4QoTcoJbhKM&feature=player_embedded

END TIMES.

It's funny; it's almost like someone took one of the ideas I posted a couple of days ago and wrote a parable about it, as if they had thought of it themselves.

The 2011 in review thread is depressing. What are your hopes/plans for 2012?

So far 2012 looks promising for me. I am enrolled in school and crossing my fingers that my financial aid comes through in time. My ex is moving away so I will have my older two kids full-time with no financial support, but I think we'll be fine. My tax return should be finally arriving, and I will be able to file 2011's soon I hope, which will mean enough money to squirrel some away and get a bit ahead.

For the next eight years I plan to dedicate my life to SCIENCE! and also regular science. Yay! This is going to be the best end of the world EVER!

I kind of suspect that everyone here knows exactly what I mean.

It takes a bit of above-average, for the most part, to appreciate the humor in Monty Python. I'd be a lying asshole if I said I didn't find that shit mostly pretty funny.

But we all know (especially since we are almost universally from nerd-ass backgrounds) people for whom that is the pinnacle of humor and intellect.

Is it elitist? We all know that one guy, or five or ten of them, who love to advertise how much they love Monty Python, and who quote the shit out of them endlessly.

My question is this: is it wrong, is it elitist, to judge those people as being not smart enough, not independent enough, not jailbroken enough?

Totally SFW (except perhaps for the name of the website): http://freecabinporn.com/

http://www.fastcoexist.com/1679008/an-indian-inventor-disrupts-the-period-industry

When Arunachalam Muruganantham hit a wall in his research on creating a sanitary napkin for poor women, he decided to do what most men typically wouldn't dream of. He wore one himself--for a whole week. Fashioning his own menstruating uterus by filling a bladder with goat's blood, Muruganantham went about his life while wearing women's underwear, occasionally squeezing the contraption to test out his latest iteration. It resulted in endless derision and almost destroyed his family. But no one is laughing at him anymore, as the sanitary napkin-making machine he went on to create is transforming the lives of rural women across India.

...that parades in the Unites States SUCK.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLnl5ZWG4tg&feature=share