Sunday, February 04, 2007
not really a hiatus...
but I have to get my shit together and I can't do it with everybody looking at me. So if I am away from here for a few days, don't anyone panic. Not that anyone would give a fuck.
Monday, January 15, 2007
a theme here
A few weeks ago I realized that my internal monologue has the same voice as Samuel L Jackson, which is a little frightening considering I am about as opposite him as one can get. Perhaps I've watched Pulp Fiction and Jackie Brown too many times.
And then, tonight, I realized that when my blood starts to boil, I always get the "let the bodies hit the floor" song in my head.
How bizarre.
And then, tonight, I realized that when my blood starts to boil, I always get the "let the bodies hit the floor" song in my head.
How bizarre.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
My Sister
I don't know how I plan to write a decent cheerful post when my head hurts and I feel like throwing up.
Liz and I played tonight. We ate crappy fast food and listened to goofy songs she downloaded from the internet and then we watched American Beauty. That is not the first time I have seen the movie, but it meant a little more this time, seeing it.
I don't know why we don't hang out more than we do. Oh, I know why. Because I am a deadbeat friend who doesn't return phonecalls or emails.
Liz and I played tonight. We ate crappy fast food and listened to goofy songs she downloaded from the internet and then we watched American Beauty. That is not the first time I have seen the movie, but it meant a little more this time, seeing it.
I don't know why we don't hang out more than we do. Oh, I know why. Because I am a deadbeat friend who doesn't return phonecalls or emails.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Satsuma
the short story
I had fun.
the long story
My last block class was hell today, and so afterwards, I was determined to make the rest of my day feel like life is worth living. I got a ton of neat stuff at the post office, including a zine that Erin made especially for me (as well as a whole box of goodies from her including chocolate, hello kitty candy, a bumpersticker, a postcard, zines, and a turtle. Did I leave anything out? Oh, and pin up girls). Justine sent me a zine book! I got a lovely letter from Roni, who has beautiful handwriting, by the way (Roni, I'll respond to something you brought up in the letter...later...). I went to Target and got myself new underwear, pink kitty socks(!), and a new purse, and some barrettes.
When I finally got home, I got an email from D* who said he was gonna call me this weekend but "didn't". Turns out he did call, but the male voice on the answering machine threw him for a loop. So, I called him today and we made plans to meet at the bookstore. Yes, I went out of my way to try and look fly, and I put all kinds of smeary black eyeshadow on. No, Karl, I am not a slacker of a student who would blow off class (even a bad bad class) to go on a date. My professor is out of the country this week, so I didn't have class. And as I've been saying, it's a damn shame she doesn't stay out of the country.
So, I get to the bookstore early (of course) and grab a bunch of anarchist and anti-war magazines, because we need appropriate material to be reading for when my army date comes in. ha ha ha. I go to get a scone and soda, and who do I see working there but this chick who used to read poetry all the time at the bookstore in Manchester. We used to hate each other. It was strange, because I was sincerely happy to see and talk to her, and she sounded the same way. It's like an 8 year old grudge match dissipated entirely. So, I take my food and get reading about why military is bad, and in comes my buddy D*. I thought we were just gonna hang out there, but no, he actually wanted to take me someplace.
I"m not a huge movie-watcher, but I said,well, movies would be fine. (I was really looking for an excuse to grope him in the dark, but shush). So, he drives...which means...I got to ride in a Mustang convertible. Hardcore. Yes, it's red. We decided to watch Hunter, because well, it was a toss up between that which was described as "bloody violence" and another movie that just had "violence". We go up to pay, and this couple behind in line gave us free movie passes. Hardcore!!! Watched movie...will spare the details, though nothing really happened, except I finally got to thrill somebody with my gun and knife and brawl stories. Then we went to a bar (!) and talked for a few hours. The bar-lady kept bringing him more beers even though he said only one, and I only had a water. When he gets the bill, they only charged him for one. I did too threaten to slap him just on principle if he mentioned that they undercharged him.
Anyway...I learned a few interesting things. Such as, a few classmates asked D* if he and I were like boyfriend and girlfriend. How cute is that?
And, he got booed off stage while singing in a karaoke bar with my professor...at a gay bar on drag night, in Provincetown.
Okay, that's more than anyone needed to know. The point is, I wish I could spend more weeknights like this instead of in that hell ren class trying to keep my eyes open. Oh yeah, and I had fun for once.
I had fun.
the long story
My last block class was hell today, and so afterwards, I was determined to make the rest of my day feel like life is worth living. I got a ton of neat stuff at the post office, including a zine that Erin made especially for me (as well as a whole box of goodies from her including chocolate, hello kitty candy, a bumpersticker, a postcard, zines, and a turtle. Did I leave anything out? Oh, and pin up girls). Justine sent me a zine book! I got a lovely letter from Roni, who has beautiful handwriting, by the way (Roni, I'll respond to something you brought up in the letter...later...). I went to Target and got myself new underwear, pink kitty socks(!), and a new purse, and some barrettes.
When I finally got home, I got an email from D* who said he was gonna call me this weekend but "didn't". Turns out he did call, but the male voice on the answering machine threw him for a loop. So, I called him today and we made plans to meet at the bookstore. Yes, I went out of my way to try and look fly, and I put all kinds of smeary black eyeshadow on. No, Karl, I am not a slacker of a student who would blow off class (even a bad bad class) to go on a date. My professor is out of the country this week, so I didn't have class. And as I've been saying, it's a damn shame she doesn't stay out of the country.
So, I get to the bookstore early (of course) and grab a bunch of anarchist and anti-war magazines, because we need appropriate material to be reading for when my army date comes in. ha ha ha. I go to get a scone and soda, and who do I see working there but this chick who used to read poetry all the time at the bookstore in Manchester. We used to hate each other. It was strange, because I was sincerely happy to see and talk to her, and she sounded the same way. It's like an 8 year old grudge match dissipated entirely. So, I take my food and get reading about why military is bad, and in comes my buddy D*. I thought we were just gonna hang out there, but no, he actually wanted to take me someplace.
I"m not a huge movie-watcher, but I said,well, movies would be fine. (I was really looking for an excuse to grope him in the dark, but shush). So, he drives...which means...I got to ride in a Mustang convertible. Hardcore. Yes, it's red. We decided to watch Hunter, because well, it was a toss up between that which was described as "bloody violence" and another movie that just had "violence". We go up to pay, and this couple behind in line gave us free movie passes. Hardcore!!! Watched movie...will spare the details, though nothing really happened, except I finally got to thrill somebody with my gun and knife and brawl stories. Then we went to a bar (!) and talked for a few hours. The bar-lady kept bringing him more beers even though he said only one, and I only had a water. When he gets the bill, they only charged him for one. I did too threaten to slap him just on principle if he mentioned that they undercharged him.
Anyway...I learned a few interesting things. Such as, a few classmates asked D* if he and I were like boyfriend and girlfriend. How cute is that?
And, he got booed off stage while singing in a karaoke bar with my professor...at a gay bar on drag night, in Provincetown.
Okay, that's more than anyone needed to know. The point is, I wish I could spend more weeknights like this instead of in that hell ren class trying to keep my eyes open. Oh yeah, and I had fun for once.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Class
[This is not my response to We Have Brains]
I have no class. No sophistication. No elegance. Appropriate words do not roll off my tongue. I don't knpw which fork is for salad, and don't care because I have pie first. I have no sense of grace. When I sit, I don't cross my legs.
Instead, I stutter getting the words out. My thoughts are apparent in my facial expressions. I laugh too loud. Talk too fast and loud. I plunk myself down. When the waiter comes over I alway order first. I am perpetually dishevelled. My underwear or a bra strap always seems to be hanging out. I stomp my feet when I walk. In class, I call out.
I ain't got no class. And that's alright by me.
I have no class. No sophistication. No elegance. Appropriate words do not roll off my tongue. I don't knpw which fork is for salad, and don't care because I have pie first. I have no sense of grace. When I sit, I don't cross my legs.
Instead, I stutter getting the words out. My thoughts are apparent in my facial expressions. I laugh too loud. Talk too fast and loud. I plunk myself down. When the waiter comes over I alway order first. I am perpetually dishevelled. My underwear or a bra strap always seems to be hanging out. I stomp my feet when I walk. In class, I call out.
I ain't got no class. And that's alright by me.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Noam Chomsky is the Source of All Things Cool
[i snatched this from Jasmine}
"The point of public relations slogans like "Support our troops" is that they don't mean anything... That's the whole point of good propaganda. You want to create a slogan that nobody's going to be against, and everybody's going to be for. Nobody knows what it means, because it doesn't mean anything. Its crucial value is that it diverts your attention from a question that does mean something: Do you support our policy? That's the one you're not allowed to talk about."
Noam Chomsky
"The point of public relations slogans like "Support our troops" is that they don't mean anything... That's the whole point of good propaganda. You want to create a slogan that nobody's going to be against, and everybody's going to be for. Nobody knows what it means, because it doesn't mean anything. Its crucial value is that it diverts your attention from a question that does mean something: Do you support our policy? That's the one you're not allowed to talk about."
Noam Chomsky
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
It's Not About Converting Those Heathens Either
"Our understanding of relief ministries is that anytime you give a cup of cold water in the name of Jesus you've shared God's love in a real physical way. That also raises the question as to why you did that. When people ask you, you explain that it's because of the love of God that has been poured out into my life and I have a deep desire that you know that same love as well."
This reminds me of the hidden track on Living In Clip (ani difranco), in which they are talking about being mortified by these born-again Christians at an open mike who sang a song about "Did Anne Frank find Jesus?"
It's people like this who give Christianity a bad name.
This reminds me of the hidden track on Living In Clip (ani difranco), in which they are talking about being mortified by these born-again Christians at an open mike who sang a song about "Did Anne Frank find Jesus?"
It's people like this who give Christianity a bad name.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
AK-47, the very best there is. When you absolutely, positively, gotta kill every motherfucker in the room, accept no substitute.
I like watching very violent movies because movies are make believe.
I do not like violence in my reality.
Let's make the distinction between these two.
I like shooting guns, but not at people. This is interesting to me because I do not like fireworks at all. Fireworks make me nervous. I used to go out in fields shooting at pumpkins and coffee cans. If I had to defend myself, then I would. I don't think traveling half-way around the world is defense. I think that is an act of aggression.
If you turn around and stop taunting him, then you won't aggravate him. If you don't aggravate him, then he is not going to punch you.
I like watching very violent movies because movies are make believe.
I do not like violence in my reality.
Let's make the distinction between these two.
I like shooting guns, but not at people. This is interesting to me because I do not like fireworks at all. Fireworks make me nervous. I used to go out in fields shooting at pumpkins and coffee cans. If I had to defend myself, then I would. I don't think traveling half-way around the world is defense. I think that is an act of aggression.
If you turn around and stop taunting him, then you won't aggravate him. If you don't aggravate him, then he is not going to punch you.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Sneezing
A man and a woman are riding next to each other in first class on a plane. The woman sneezes, then takes a tissue and gently wipes it between her legs. The man isn't sure he saw what she did, and decides he is probably hallucinating.
A few minutes pass. The woman sneezes again. She takes a tissue and gently wipes it between her legs. The man is about to go nuts. He can't believe that he's seeing what he's seeing.
A few more minutes pass. The woman sneezes yet again. She takes a tissue and gently wipes it between her legs yet again.
The man has finally had all he can handle. He turns to the woman and says,
Three times you've sneezed, and three times you've taken a tissue and wiped it
between your legs! What kind of signals are you sending me, or are you just trying to drive me crazy?
The woman replies, I am sorry to have disturbed you, sir. I have a rare condition such that when I sneeze, I have an orgasm.
The man, now feeling badly, says, Oh, I'm sorry. What are you taking for it?
The woman looks at him and says, Pepper.
A few minutes pass. The woman sneezes again. She takes a tissue and gently wipes it between her legs. The man is about to go nuts. He can't believe that he's seeing what he's seeing.
A few more minutes pass. The woman sneezes yet again. She takes a tissue and gently wipes it between her legs yet again.
The man has finally had all he can handle. He turns to the woman and says,
Three times you've sneezed, and three times you've taken a tissue and wiped it
between your legs! What kind of signals are you sending me, or are you just trying to drive me crazy?
The woman replies, I am sorry to have disturbed you, sir. I have a rare condition such that when I sneeze, I have an orgasm.
The man, now feeling badly, says, Oh, I'm sorry. What are you taking for it?
The woman looks at him and says, Pepper.
The Good Trade...
For all of us who are married, were married, wish you were married, or wish you weren't married, this is something to smile about the next time you see a bottle of wine:
Sally was driving home from one of her business trips in Northern Arizona when she saw an elderly Navajo woman walking on the side of the road.
As the trip was a long and quiet one, she stopped the car and asked the Navajo woman if she would like a ride. With a silent nod of thanks, the woman got into the car.
Resuming the journey, Sally tried in vain to make a bit of small talk with the Navajo woman. The old woman just sat silently, looking intently at everything she saw, studying every little detail, until she noticed a brown bag on the seat next to Sally.
"What in bag?" asked the old woman.
Sally looked down at the brown bag and said, "It's a bottle of wine. I got it for my husband." The Navajo woman was silent for another moment or two.
Then speaking with the quiet wisdom of an elder, she said:
"Good trade....."
Sally was driving home from one of her business trips in Northern Arizona when she saw an elderly Navajo woman walking on the side of the road.
As the trip was a long and quiet one, she stopped the car and asked the Navajo woman if she would like a ride. With a silent nod of thanks, the woman got into the car.
Resuming the journey, Sally tried in vain to make a bit of small talk with the Navajo woman. The old woman just sat silently, looking intently at everything she saw, studying every little detail, until she noticed a brown bag on the seat next to Sally.
"What in bag?" asked the old woman.
Sally looked down at the brown bag and said, "It's a bottle of wine. I got it for my husband." The Navajo woman was silent for another moment or two.
Then speaking with the quiet wisdom of an elder, she said:
"Good trade....."
Sunday, April 30, 2006
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