so! I wonder if it’s possible to make a palatable alcoholic beverage using slimfast shakes as a mixer. I don’t have much else to drink in my house, so I’m just wondering.
Don’t ever buy anything at game crazy, ever ever ever. They are the game stores that sprout out the backs of most Hollywood Video locations. They are horrible and I will never ever go back and neither should you! (:
K, that’s about all for now.
I’m in the midst of it now. I dont really want to be, but I have to from time to time. So I’m eliminating, moving, shuffling. I have soaps on to pass the time. Does anyone really have a relationship like this? I don’t mean it in a bad way, with all the drama, but the unshakable profound love for someone. There is no way that <insert soap opera storyline here> could ever break them up. Like a lot of things, I hope there is, but I don’t think there is.
I’m not a tall person. But sometimes it feels like the distance between my heart and my head is inestimable.
Back to the piles…
So I got this article emailed to me about Mister Rogers, it was in Esquire awhile ago apparently. This is one part that I really liked, about Mister Rogers getting his Lifetime Achievement Award at the Emmys:
…and there, in front of all the soap-opera stars and talk-show sinceratrons, in front of all the jutting man-tanned jaws and jutting saltwater bosoms, he made his small bow and said into the microphone, “All of us have special ones who have loved us into being. Would you just take, along with me, ten seconds to think of the people who have helped you become who you are …. Ten seconds of silence.” And then he lifted his wrist, and looked at the audience, and looked at his watch, and said softly, “I’ll watch the time,” and there was, at first, a small whoop from the crowd, a giddy, strangled hiccup of laughter, as people realized that he wasn’t kidding, that Mister Rogers was not some convenient eunuch but rather a man, an authority figure who actually expected them to do what he asked… and so they did. One second, two seconds, three seconds… and now the jaws clenched, and the bosoms heaved, and the mascara ran, and the tears fell upon the beglittered gathering like rain leaking down a crystal chandelier, and Mister Rogers finally looked up from his watch and said, “May God be with you”.
–
I think that people would be much better off if everyone did that. Maybe even every day. Take ten seconds each day to think about the people who have loved you into being. If you are a fortunate human being, it’ll take you longer than that. I hope that everyone I know is a fortunate human being. And I think I’m going to develop a new habit.
This is the fax I sent to do my part for the virtual march on Washington in protest of the seemingly inevitable action in Iraq. I know that not everyone agrees with me on the surface, but here it is: I am not saying we should leave Saddam alone to do as he pleases. I’m not anti-military. I’m not certain that bombing them back to the stone age is the best idea, though. So here is my fax:
I am one of your constituents, and I write today as a participant in Win Without War’s Virtual March. I am one of the majority of Americans in that “focus group” concerned with President Bush’s rush to war; it is dangerous, foolhardy, and unnecessary.
Our nation needs to support tough United Nations inspections. Going to war with Iraq will kill thousands of civilians and soldiers on both sides, create an atmosphere that breeds even more terrorists in a country where we do not see a significant amount of terrorist activity, and divert money in an already economically trying time from programs that really can create a safer and more just society.
Please do everything you can to support the inspections process and resist our nation rushing to war. I am not against enforcing a declaration, nor am I anti-military or down on the soldiers who selflessly give their lives for my freedom to send this message. I do not believe this is the time or the manner in which these events should unfold. I implore you to use the power that voters such as myself have given you and do whatever is possible to stop this senseless violence and aggression from continuing.
Thank you very much for your time.
Fred McFeely (!) Rogers passed away earlier this morning. I’m still trying to figure out what to do with that information. Who am I kidding? I’ve been a weepy emotional pile of fluffy since I got out of bed. I already wrote about it here and I don’t know what else to say right now. He was a huge part of my life and really helped to make me who I am today (whoever that is). Mostly the good things, like respecting other people, being kind, you have to be a good friend to get a good friend, and that your fish need to be fed every day. (: He will be missed. And the worst part is, the person best to help us through his death is him. Here are some links in case you’re interested:
Dartmouth Commencement Address 2002
Family Communications, Inc (official site)
PBS: Helpful hints for parents
Did you know Mister Rogers helped save the VCR? Read about it here
He was a very special man. I’m glad that he decided to dedicate his life to kids like me.
Well! I’ve had an interesting last 15 minutes. JeffRo and I, as we sat discussing a mutual creative project, ended up discussing transsexuals. We then realized that this is going to do weird things to my head, talking about my computer and Harvey Fierstein and transsexuals and Home Depot. “I’m going to have this weird dream about Harvey Fierstein busting into my house and taking off with my iMac…” to which JeffRo replied “Which he’ll name ENID TURNBLATT!!!!” This made him laugh really hard, and as I was trying to get him out the door we ended up talking about bull semen (just don’t even ask) and he said that he has a bull named Pepe and since Red Bull is made of like, liquid smarties and urine (which isn’t true, but that’s pretty much what it tastes like), he goes out in the morning to get buckets of Pepe peepee. This made him laugh so hard he fell on George (the large and sort of prickly shrubbery next to my front door) and had a really unfortunate experience with poking, judging by the look on his face. So that was the last few minutes. Neat, huh?
Have I mentioned lately how much I adore Graham Norton? He’s the most fantastic tv personality, and queeny in a delightful way, and a bit mouthy, and allowed to be all these things because they don’t have the hangups in the UK that we have here. I want him to be my friend, like, a LOT. He is marvelous and I don’t know how I managed to go so long without him as a semi-regular feature in my life. I’ll just die if I can’t keep BBC America when I cancel my cable package. ah!
Off to bed. later!
Last night JeffRo and Yours Truly left our collective domiciles to escape snatchery and depression (sort of). Neither of us wanted to be home. We filled the tank and headed to Gustav’s for “fondue and liquor” as JeffRo put it. I had a drink with pillow in the name (I figured that I could sleep pretty well on a couple of them, anyway), JeffRo had a peach rum thing called the dessert flower, but the waitress said desert, so JeffRo sipped some and said “I dream of rum, a lay a lay a lay, the desert rose, a lay a lay a lay” and we turned it into a weird spongebob reference and giggled some. It was nice. I’m so glad that JeffRo is my friend. It’s good to get a hug and have a sympathetic ear when you need one. I am of the opinion that most people don’t really understand how much they are appreciated, so I try to let people know that I appreciate them. I don’t think I even do a good enough job, and I think I try more than most people do. Someday I’ll hold a parade in honor of Interplanetary JeffRo Day and maybe then I’ll come close to showing him how much he means to me. I don’t mean to come off as girly or anything, I just feel incredibly blessed to have such a friend. He hauled my ass around when Scooter was gone, he spent his time with me so I wouldn’t be lonesome, he ate Pho with me, he indulges my stupid urges, and he lets me stake out the passenger seat in his shiny new car. That’s not anywhere near everything, but those are big things, imnsho.
I was feeling better by the time he went home. Not good, but less bad. His CD of tragic music did nothing to help my mood, that’s for sure. Unsurprisingly, all this sad music was stuff I thought was sad too.
Additionally, I have noticed (speaking of weird JeffVerso coincidences) that our lj entries eerily duplicate each other. Don’t believe me? Hit the friends page of someone we both list as a friend. Liplash, Jismbianp, TRAVEN…they all have us there. It’s like someone wrote two different drafts of the same entry. creeeeeeepy! but it gets less so as time goes on I think. Anyway. I’m off to make dinner or something. I’m Scooterless this evening so I only have to feed me and JeffRo. Should be a much easier task. We could just eat the leftover frosting for dinner and call it good. (:
I’m prone to this from time to time, so here goes. Recently the quasi-80’s station here (they started out all 80’s and then they wussed out and sound like all the other stations but with a teeny bit more 80’s music) played a Thompson Twins song that reminded me how much I adored them back in the day (I won’t tell you how far back), so I downloaded some and I realized that SO much of the stuff from the 80’s is relevant again with North Korea threatening nukes and us again all tense and on the brink of war. So here is a song that I think should be played a lot now.
The Gap
Wake up in a strange land, one of forty thieves
And I see for the first time just what you believe
I go down to the market where I can buy or sell
And listen to the chanting and all the lies the wise ones tell
They say
(chorus)
East is east, west is west
Two diff’rent colors on the map
We say break the line, chew the fat
a keep moving out into the gap
Beggars in the back street, there for all the world to leave
It’s you that’s begging for attention
Well it’s all the same to me
And I won’t ask permission, not from teachers or from kings
Cause I can see for myself all the pain that you will bring
They say
(REPEAT CHORUS)
Hey!
(East)…(West)
(Repeat)
(REPEAT CHORUS)
Can you smell the perfume of a hundred thousand years?
Dare you look into the eyes that hide a hundred million tears?
And there’s no need to be so fightened of all the figures in the night
Cause we share the same emotions and no one’s wrong and no one’s right
They say
(Chorus, repeat to fade)
two things:
I want to thank Liplash for showing me that & l t ; and & g t ; (without spaces) would let me make <these> as much as I want and not make lj think that they are some sort of html tags and try to render them. When you write stuff like <beavis> and <wipes tears> it’s nice not to make a browser try to figure out what that code is supposed to do. (:
In other news, I’ve been really ranty lately. I don’t know what the deal is, though. I have a suspicion that all the planets are lined up in the house of PISSING ME OFF and I just make the time to sit in front of Enid and get it off my mind. I think it’s just the flexing the brain thing, as much as anything. I wish that I didn’t need to do this, but I do. It’s been almost a year now, and I’m worried that all the daytime tv is going to turn me into some kind of…well, person on daytime tv. Yeah.
I’m off to fax some more now.
Oh! One last thing: If you are the creative type, and have a good story to tell, and you are sort of familiar with the screenplay format, I have a friend who is fixin to shoot a film this summer and he is accepting submissions as we speak, so go write something cool and get it made into a movie! Yeah! Now I’m off. I mean it.
My ankles are possessed of a red itchy irritated area. Most of the way around both ankles. I had it on the insides of my calves for like two years, and then it just sort of went away. It’s been on my ankles for about that long now, and I’m wondering if I’m going to have it forever, or if it just migrated, or if it just lives for two years and moves on, or what! I tried leaving them alone, regular lotion, anti-itch lotion, extra dry skin lotion, alpha hydroxy lotion, foot lotion, oatmeal lotion, super duper dry skin lotion, medicated lotion, itchy skin ointment, transforming moisturizing cream, sunburn lotion, foot scrub, walk down the skin care aisle and I’ve smeared it on my ankles at one point or another. Here’s the problem: It always gets to a certain point, and then it never gets better. I can slather my legs in all manner of creams and ointments and home remedies or whatever, and it always gets to a spot where there’s no flaky skin, and the spots where I scratched until I bled are healed, and maybe when I put stuff on them they are a bit red, but that’s IT. I never get the areas of itching to get smaller or look more like skin and less like some kind of horrific “before” photo. I even went to a dermatologist! He strapped little metal discs to my back with goo in them for two days and then when I got a huge welt under one of them (which stayed on my back for about two months afterwards) he said I was having a mild reaction to gold. MILD?!?!?!?!?!!? Oh yeah, and did you notice that the FOUR earrings in my ears are GOLD? I can stick it through my flesh but not on? wtf? anyway. He said he had no idea what caused it, what I could do to make it better, or even wtf it was so I at least understood what was going on with my body. I always ask a lot of questions at the doctor’s office, or I try to, anyway. I usually have to get there on the bus and I don’t like to go and it’s time off work and stuff, so I get everything out of them I can. Plus I was going through a less than satisfactory health care network so it wasn’t like I picked who I wanted to see or anything. I was just frustrated and scared by the whole experience. I paid ten bucks a whack to go for FOUR visits to get all this allergy testing bullshit taken care of, and time of work, and time on the bus, and all this time with dime sized metal disks TAPED TO MY BACK for two long showerless itchy days, and the best they can do is “we don’t really know”. Well guess what dipshits, I could have saved myself forty bucks and eight hours of bus time and told you that already. Oh wait, I did tell you that, I want to see you because I have itchy red angry ankles and I DON’T KNOW WHY THAT IS! Oh, but you don’t either? Oh, that’s great, thanks. Why didn’t I just take that forty fucking bucks and spend it on more ointcreamtion that didn’t work? AAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!
This dermatologist has never been awakened in the night by his need to itch his ankles. This dermatologist has never noticed a snowdrift of DNA on the floor underneath his computer chair. This dermatologist has never awakened anyone else with the noise of fingernails on flesh. This dermatologist has never scratched his skin so much that he thought, just for a second, that he might actually end up scratching right down to the bone. This dermatologist has never briefly considered hacking off his own feet just so his ankles wouldn’t itch anymore. This dermatologist has never scratched so hard he bled, and then just kept on scratching. This dermatologist has never had to designate special socks because the bizarre substances on his ankles stand a pretty good chance of doing bizarre things to the sheets. This dermatologist has never been excited when his nails grew out because it meant better leverage during scratching. This dermatologist has never sat in front of his diary and cried because he doesn’t know what else to do about this dry godforsaken itchy bloody blasted skin and hoped that writing about it would get it out of his system and realize that it didn’t really work at all and that documenting it and thinking back on all the things that he did to try to ease the suffering didn’t do one iota to make things better and that much money could probably build a pretty nice computer. Hell, by now it’s probably most of a car.
Sorry about that. I know that like, there’s SUCH better stuff to get worked up about, but I really am bothered by this, among other stuff right now. It all started with itching and it just went downhill from there in a real hurry. Sometimes I feel like it’s really hard to just be me, let alone worry about Iraq or King George or whether or not I have enough duct tape and plastic. I’m going to go finish crying now. I have to hurry up with it, because then it will be time to itch.
I’m sorry, but I love that commercial SO much! I fell off the couch the first time.
WHAT have you DONE to Little Richaaaard?!!?! Comedy gold. <wipes tears>
SO! I went out on Saturday evening. I cleaned house, made a cake, tagged a stack of mp3s for my brother’s birthday gift, vacuumed, frosted a cake (my layer cake skills need work) and managed to get Liz’s bday gift all rapped and looking nice and everything. She came over and we hung out, and we had a good time goofing off and stuff. Then TRAVEN showed up with his cousin and we played cards till Jeffro got off work and then we went to Red Robin, where I drank a huge pink drink from some sort of large beaker and I also drank Liz’s birthday margarita, since she didn’t want it. I was happy when we left… I felt sort of bad for TRAVEN’s cousin, he doesn’t really talk and I felt bad that he was stuck with our freakitude for the evening. And in public no less! He dealt well though, and he seemed to enjoy himself. I hope he had fun. I’d like to see him hang out with us again I think. We wanted to take him with us downtown, but of course TRAVEN refused. I’m not even going to discuss that. Anyway!
Downtown we went. Earlier in the evening I had a flip through the Homotorola v120c and made a few calls to put the word out that I’d be downtown later in the evening. It worked, I saw some people I hadn’t seen in awhile and stuff, and it was fun. We danced and I hung out wtih people who I don’t usually see in a gay strip bar setting, so it was a good evening. NOTE: I actually noticed that Niv had his eye on this boy and ended up carrying him across the bar to meet the guy. Good News! He’s a screenwriter! (Niv is an aspiring filmmaker, which means he makes movies, but has a day job too) Bad News! He’s moving to LA in like a week. I know. But it was fun to pick him up and haul him across the bar (he’s over six feet tall, and I’m just barely five) when he didn’t think I’d do it. (:
SO! We danced and drank and had some fun and goofed around and stuff. I enjoyed myself. Then we came back to the MOthership and had cake and everyone went home. I felt bad for Liz and told her so, I mean, for me and jeffro out and about, it was a pretty average night. For her it was such a big deal not to be groped and have to smack people or start every other sentence with “Hannah no..” and she said she was thrilled with her evening and that she couldn’t imagine having a better time. I’m really glad. It’s always nice when you get to sort of step out of your usual world and do something new, even if it’s not astounding to the rest of the world. I’m pleased she had fun. It was great to show her a good time.
Then Jeffro was off Sunday, so he did stuff at his place for awhile and showed up in time for the grammys and to eat some peanut chicken. We made fun of people and songs and clothes for awhile, and then we watched the news and he went home. Example: When P. Diddy showed up with his son, Jeffro said: So who’s the other one, P. Kiddie? We did that all night. This still bothers me, though: Is there something wrong with me that I don’t understand where so much of this clothing comes from or why it’s hip or trendy or cool?
<sigh>
Anyway. Then today Jeffro was off as well, so we went to the mall with the best of intentions: pay a cell phone bill. Well, we walked into the Verizon store to covet stuff, never actually paid the bill, continued in search of an antenna ball for Jeffro’s car (who may end up being Paul just because we like to say ‘hisa name is paurl…’) and were unsuccessful with it. However, upon investigating Anchor Blue in the name of automobile adornment, I found some fantastic sunglasses that said 4.99 on them, but the other identical pair said 7.99. I took them to the counter and said “I’m confused about the price of these…” and he said “Two ninety-nine.” Two ninety nine? Good LAWD! I bought them immediately before he realized what he’d said to me. Then we went into Meier and Frank where the 50% off signs made it look like an actual sale for a change, so we shopped and I got two cool shirts I think (one of them I need to have Jeffro remind me to wear) and a sweater for Scooter, and Jeffro got a cute tracksuity jackety thing, even though we went in for a zippyup sweater and I found a zippyup sweater for him, but he wasn’t into it. I think it would look fabulous on him, because damn near everything does, but anyway…we were leaving and I just wanted to briefly investigate the clinique counter and see if they could maybe help me cuten up a bit and help Jeffro with his ingrown whisker issues and he ended up buying stuff (I’m sorry Jeffro, but it’s really good stuff!) and then we finally left. It was fun though, I liked getting out of the house. Earlier today we went to Freddy’s and dropped off some Goodwill stuff at the truck and went inside to see if we could find what was on our lists today, but mostly what we found was some interesting ankle goop for me, and some soda and soap for him.
We had a good day. It was fun, I think. Even though we didn’t really do a whole lot. (:
OK!
So there’s to be a lawsuit against the theatre chains because they show commercials! That’s what the news says. What they don’t tell you is that they are just suing because the movie doesn’t start when they say it will. Why aren’t they suing over the commercials? Does it matter? Do we care? HELL YES WE CARE!! Wanna know why?
Remember that horrible ad with the pepsi girl and she talked like Jack Pallance? Yeah. Well, at the end it said “See your manager if you have comments.” Liplash and I always used to raise our hands and go “I HAVE COMMENTS! SO MANY COMMENTS!” and we would boo the ad, and throw popcorn at the screen and stuff. Other people did too. Turns out, people started throwing pepsi at the screen too, and the revolt caused Regal Cinemas to stop fucking showing it. Well! In the press release, they named Portland as one of the areas where the protesting was the most vocal/animated/creative/blonde and gay/whatever, and that got it changed. WE made that happen! Now I have no Liplash to protest the ads here, but I’ll be god damned if that’s going to stop me (yeah yeah, stfu, I am already damned, I assure you, but it sounds really good to say it. Where was I? Oh yeah. I’ll be god damned) if I’m going to let that stop me. I’m going to write letters and I’m going to call and I’m going to protest and make it a big deal. WTF else do I have to do? I got nothin but time on my hands, baby. I’m going to do something about this. And here goes my rant (yeah, you thought that was it, huh? Guess again, sparky, cuz here we go):
You know why they are doing this? Because they can. Because the percentage of the audience that will demand a reacharound while you fuck them is so slim that you can ignore their reacharound requests and not worry about the profit margin if they don’t come back. Whatever jerkoff decided this was a good idea hasn’t been to a movie in his own theatre chain in so long he probably just takes someone else’s word for it that they even still DO that anymore. That guy (let’s call him Bruce Chiccone) has not recently been to the Regal Cinema that *I* have attended. He never sat in front of someone who kicked his seat for three godforsaken hours (THREE HOURS!?!?!? Doesn’t your foot ever get tired? Are you the Six Million Dollar Motherfucker, that you have to kick the ENTIRE time???) and never sat behind the girl who not only didn’t turn her phone off when the movie started, but let it ring three times while she examined the caller ID and then TOOK THE CALL and proceeded to have a conversation IN THE THEATRE. Not in trailers, mind you, WHILE THE FILM PLAYED. And he never got stuck in a breaking seat that made you afraid to adjust your position for fear you would land smack dab in the middle of the mysterious sticky milkdudded gummybeared foreign substance that they call the “floor” of such an establishment. God only knows what else makes up that goo. They really ought to market it as some sort of super-glue substance, though. Talk about adhesive! Anyway. Back to Bruce. He’s never had his seat kicked while he listens to an eighth grader talk about the movie HE IS TRYING TO WATCH as his seat attempts to violate him a couple of different ways and it won’t matter when that girl gets off the phone anyway because the theatre chain is too cheap to get their sound system certified THX or bother with things like sound insulation between cinemas so even if he’s watching a touching tale of love, he can still hear the major explosions from DareDevil playing next door. That is, when he isn’t hearing the girl in front of him talk about how it’s such a scary movie, way better than the first one. And while he has this pleasant experience, he’s probably wondering why these people don’t get thrown out. Oooh! Ooh! I know! Pick me pick me! They are allowed to remain because the chain is too cheap to have ushers anymore, so there isn’t anyone there to retain order in the theatre. Combine the newly usherless cinema with the fact that parents are more than happy to give out twenty dollar bills almost as often as the Ritalin just to get the kids out of their hair for a few hours, and since these are the same parents I have already gone into great detail about, you know that the kids aren’t exactly shining members of society, and just trading the smaller babysitter with a joystick for a larger one where you can go hang out with all your friends! Who doesn’t love that, really? You know what? I went to the movies last summer with a lot of my friends. There were probably 15 of us, and we were a rowdy bunch heading into the theatre, piling into the seats, adjusting stuff, juggling candy, etc. And we were chatty, oh yes. And then it got dark. Then, this really remarkable thing happened: We all STFU since the movie was going to start! Isn’t that amazing? We quietly whispered about the trailers, what we would and wouldn’t like to see, and then we were quiet for the movie! QUIET! We laughed when it was funny, but we didn’t talk, and every single person in that row of seats had a cell phone, but none of them rang. We didn’t kick a single seat, we didn’t throw shit on the floor, and we had a nice time. There’s no law that says only assholes get to enjoy a movie. But it still sucked to see that one commercial at the beginning. At least there are less if you go to Century Cinemas instead of Regal, but you pay more. I guess it’s fair. If I’m already looking at eight bucks, another fifty cents isn’t a big deal. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to make it stop. I assure you, I can make it stop. I will summon snatchery from parts unknown and cause this nonsense to end.
K, bye.
WinMX is the largest steamiest pile of POS code I think I’ve ever laid eyes on. At least Windows has help, however lame it may be.
(oldschool mac)IT’S WORSE THAN WORD 6!!!!!(/oldschool mac)
What a pile of poo. I despise this stupid program. Scooter sez: At least I can find stuff with winMX, I don’t do so good finding things on kazaa. Verso sez: At least if I can find stuff on kazaa I can download it! WinMX just taunts you, like that chick you took to prom that time…
Sorry. No ranting now. I have to vacuum.
I read The Morning Fix, a thrice-weekly column, delivered to my inbox, by a delightful fellow named Mark Morford. Here’s one of his choice rants below, composed entirely of bits of spam. I think it’s impressive, especially if it’s read out loud. Here you go!:
—–
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Mark Morford’s Notes & Errata column appears every Wednesday and Friday on SF Gate, unless it appears on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which it never does. He also writes the Morning Fix, a deeply skewed thrice-weekly e-mail column and newsletter. Subscribe at sfgate.com/newsletters.
Over the last few days, I’ve been compiling a CD for my brother’s birthday, and I turned Scooter on to the new Johnny Cash album (which contains covers of NIN and DM songs) so it’s been interesting to hear what’s been emanating from the office lately.
Between Johnny Cash singing Personal Jesus and punk covers of Mandy and My Favorite Things, it’s been an aurally odd couple of days around here.
Anyway! If you get a chance to check out Me First & The Gimme Gimmes, you absolutely should, if only because their name is cool, one of the guys is from the Foo Fighters, they have a guy named Fat Mike, and their version of Stand By Your Man is probably one of the most delightful things I’ve heard in a long long time.
I’m still in total agreement with Wil though: Praise Chorus is one of the most amazing songs ever recorded. Not that I’m given to overstatement or anything. (:
K, that’s all for now. Bye!
Scooter just stuck a sticker on me. He stuck the sticker from his orange on my bellybutton because it says ‘navel’ on it. How random!
Now I have one on the back of my neck. ???
Scooter has become a CNN junkie (I think I’ll get Wolf Blitzer to sign something for him for his birthday or something) so he has it on and they cut to Shrub, who, when asked about the protests over the weekend, said something I can’t believe came out of his mouth. I pasted from the transcript below:
Q: Given the size of the protests in England over the weekend, do you
have any concerns that Tony Blair might pay a serious political price
for supporting you on Iraq?
THE PRESIDENT: I think any time somebody shows courage, when it comes
to peace, that the people will eventually understand that.
First of all, you know, size of protest, it’s like deciding, well, I’m
going to decide policy based upon a focus group. The role of a leader
is to decide policy based upon the security — in this case, the
security of the people.
—
So, you know, when one lives in a representative democracy (or you keep being told you do, anyway), isn’t it the duty of those put in office to do things based on the will of the people? And you have to base it on those who speak up (vote, write letters, call, etc), so isn’t that a focus group? It sure as hell isn’t everybody. And after this weekend, I know I’m not the only person who thinks these sorts of things. So if you aren’t going to base policy on those who make their opinions heard, how are you going to do it exactly? Ignore us? Is that why the Supremes installed him?
Corporate monarchy indeed.
SO!
Fags On Wheels last night. Saw some people, got some beads, had some fun. Cringed at some music, but I can’t really help that, I’m not in charge of it or anything. But I did notice that there was a lot more skating when they put in “Wheels On Fire” volume one, which was my CD. So there! anyway…
Afterwards, instead of going to the Cart, we went to the Galaxy for drinks and karaoke. I think this could be fun, but I might consider alternating between it and the Dildo on monday nights. Anyway! I got my Freedom on (by George Michael), and it made everybody in the place (almost) get up and dance! It was super fun, and the applause/cheering after didn’t hurt things any. (: Jeffro got his Addicted To Love on, so Madhatter and I were his bored backup dancers. We played air guitar and tried to look blase about everything, but Jeffro started wiggling his hips in the third verse and combined with some jack and coke and Tokyo tea, I got the giggles and blew my super cool backup dancer/guitar player image. But till then, it rocked. Then I did One Week by Barenaked Ladies, which was fun because by then most everyone was wasted so they all looked amazed that I got all the words out. But the karaoke thing got them wrong, so I was singing the right words and people probably thought I fucked it up. I don’t care! It was fun. We hung out with Jeff (I’m sorry I forgot your name! I just didn’t think it was Jeff because I thought I was confusing you with JeffRo!), Madhatter, Seth, Garrett, and some dude who was mostly just loud and vaguely drunken. He seemed like a frat boy in search of a party. I’m not sure how true this is, though.
Then we left, and since Madhatter had to go early we took Garrett home since it was on the way. We almost went back around the block to make sure he got in, because we figured the cops would get calls from neighbors…”There’s a large blue fuzzy jacket with a green froggy purse banging on my neighbor’s door, demanding to be let in..” “it looks like a bearded woman is trying to break in across the street…” we giggled about that a lot, our second Garrett-induced fit of giggling. The first being when the waitress told us if you show your ID to this woman over here she’ll give you smokes. He got up and swished away with his froggy purse, proclaiming “Who, oh who is the she with the free cigarettes? You’re my new best friend, where are you?” because we thought that ’she with the free cigarettes’ was a really funny phrase. Anyway! We took Garrett home and Jeffro took me home and I got in bed with my super snuggly sweetie. I don’t know what his deal was, but he snuggled right on up to my stinky self.
I don’t get the bar thing, really. It’s like, since people aren’t allowed to smoke a lot of other places they smoke MORE if they go to the bar. I don’t really like it because since I mostly go to gay bars, I come home reeking of cigarettes and queeny desperation. It’s a really unfortunate aroma. Actually, I guess that would mean I come home smelling like fags and fags! (: Anyway, I think there ought to be at least one nonsmoking gay bar in town, preferably with karaoke sometimes so I can get my groove on. Maybe that’s what Jeffro and I will do when we open Fumita Bar And Grill (give it a minute, and if you like Margaret Cho, you’ll get it). Nonsmoking, karaoke, and all the drinks will have naughty names. We need good food and some good music, and we will never EVER charge eight bucks for chicken strips. Ever.
So last night was fun.
In other news, I’m really glad that someone invented sweatpants. I can make a convincing case for either a male or female being responsible for them. I just don’t care. Additionally, Wil’s blog has a random listing of stuff like Jeffro and I do sometimes, and he says that Puddle Of Mudd and POD totally suck, and all the bands who sound like them do too, and that Praise Chorus is just about the best song he’s ever heard. Once again, he and I are in (eerily) total agreement.
AND!!!!!!! Liplash sent me my birthday gift and it came today! I got a glorious wonderful delightful fantastic awesome amazing SPONGEBOB WATCH! It fits and it’s cool and it’s not horribly offensive or anything, so I can wear it with like regular clothes. I love it love it love it and I’m almost glad that I didn’t end up getting Pac-Man World, because this is fully awesome. YAY! Anyway. So much weird stuff smunched into one entry. I’m off to eat some food and clean a room or something.
Things I learned while on the road this weekend:
- In the past, Scooter was a hussy!
- Stuff changes a lot if you don’t drive the same road often.
- It’s probably not a good idea to put a travel plaza/A&W smack dab in the middle of Feedlot Land. Down Home Aroma, a go-go.
- I really like the Blow Monkeys. Be quiet, Jeffro.
- Dork means penis. I had no idea!
- The Far Side is a hilarious cartoon, assembled by a hilarious guy.
- My parents are awesome. I’m really happy that my dad found Patti.
- Toy poodles, with the right personality, are the coolest dogs ever.
- Boardman, Oregon, truly is a godforsaken place.
- Some food was destined to be road trip food. I’m reasonably certain that pork rinds and Cornuts fall into this category.
- Some rest stops are maintained and border on pleasant. Some look like a murder scene. Not ok.
- No matter where you are, if the gas station has a store, you will be able to purchase music by Charley Pride there.
- People can have very odd conversations in a car in the dark in the rain.
- REI needs to sell me a splitter for the lighter/power point so I can plug my phone in even if the GPS is running.
- Power Point is a funny name for where the lighter lives. Like you can lift a flap and get an entire presentation. But what would the presentation topic be?
- It’s late and I’m tired and I have to kill an ant and go to bed. Yay?
