August 2004 Archives

Wanna mess with the mind of a 5-year-old?

I was propositioned today to warp a child (no, not like Jacko, you perv.). Well ... not so much warp as blatantly lie and decieve. Apparently this particular child, whom we'll call "Sloan", has been very naughty (and not in that "good" kind'a naughty way.). Being bad in church, not following directions, downloading porn ... and his mother is in need of assistance.

Michael to the rescue. I have been asked to impersonate (LOL) an elf from the North Pole and basically say "Big Brother's watching you. Be good or you're going to Hell with all the other bad angels." I get to play demented elf -- (not that scary dentist elf like in that Rudolph movie.) What great fun is this!!!?

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For some reason I am SO tired today. My eyes are all kinds of burning, and I look really . . . worn. I don't know why -- I slept just fine, really. Went to bed about midnight -- got up at 6:45, which is plenty of sleep. But alas, I am feel like hell. Maybe it's Jesus' revenge for my comment last nite.

Anyway, so I'm currently sitting in the Med Center in Houston at the University of Houston School of Nursing. It's a really nice building. Very. . . modern loft. Actually, it looks like IKEA threw up all over the place. But I like it. I'm here to help teach the students (10 of em) how to use their PDAs and the nursing software we distributed. They were also supposed to be taking this test to look up information in their textbooks. Of course, no one brought their text books. We're going to be here forever, I know it.

Brad e-mailed me this morning to tell me that He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named was at Guava last nite with his boyfriend -- and that he got up and sang a song. Ya know, he really doesn't sing very well. And I'm not saying I have the voice of angel, but he REALLY can't sing. But bless him for trying. (And bless us for having to listen.) So it is very good that I did not go to Guava last nite. I can only imagine what that would have been like. I have to admit I wonder whether he responded to my last e-mail ... and maybe these are things I should be thinking -- but I do, nonetheless. It's like one big ... uzumaki.

So, Friday, on my day off, Michael-gurl and Patrick helped me rearrange my apartment. It is completely different and my cat loves it. It's SOOOO open now. I also went through and de-ex-ed my apartment. I threw away EVERYTHING that was ex-related. Teddy bears, poems, pictures, clothes -- everything. (Hateful bastard.) Not that I'm bitter. But seriously -- it's just time to move on, to cleanse my apartment of the negativity that has come about become of him (them) (us). And now it's almost there. My bedroom, sadly, will probably have to be the same. Just too much stuff and not enough options to move it.

Anyway, ramble, ramble, ramble. Maybe I'll ramble some more in a little bit.

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What is it with animals today?

First, yesterday I read about this killer attack squirrel of death who attacked a man driving on (moving) motorcycle. Rather than be squashed, it jumped up on to the motorcyle and started attacking the man.

And then today, I read an article about a "bionic" hedgehog who repeatedly attacked a man and some dogs. It was kicked, hit in the head with a shovel, and finally shot, and just ran away into the woods. They said it was the size of a cat. How fucked up is that? It's like Caddyshack on crack.

Would it be bad to tell Jesus to "Go To Hell?"

I'm prolly going to hell for that -- but it was a question that came up in a discussion with my new internet boyfriend, Adam. We were internetting about this, that, and the other, and we started to speak of Jesus and if Christ were to come before we were ever able to meet. And I said, well I'd just have to tell Jesus to go back to Heaven -- which mutated to going to Hell.

Actually -- I heard that the Catholic church is offering a new fat-free Communion wafer called "I Can't Believe It's Not Jesus . . . "

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My mom sent me a link to this song that her and my aunt used to play when they were pissed at men. And my how it applies. Thanks, Mom.

You're breakin' my heart
You're tearin' it apart
So fuck you
All I want to do
Is have a good time
Now I'm blue

You wanna boogaloo
Run down to Tramps
Have a dance or two--ooh!

You're breaking my heart
You're tearin' it apart
But fuck you
You're breakin' my heart
You're tearin' it apart
Ooh!--ooh!--

You stepped on my ass
You're breaking my glasses too
You wanna drive my car
Buy a lot of stuff
I've had enough
Of you--ooh!

I'm goin' insane
There's no one to blame
So fuck you

You've gotta have your way
There's nothin' left to say
There's nothin' left to do--ooh!

You're breakin' my heart
You're tearin' it apart
So fuck you

You've gotta have your way
There's nothin' left to say
There's nothin' left to do--ooh!

You're breakin' my heart
You're tearin' it apart
But I love you ...

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Why are there so many songs about rainbows
And what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,
And rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told and some choose to believe it
I know they're wrong, wait and see.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

Who said that every wish would be heard and answered
When wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it,
And look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing
And what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

All of us under its spell,
We know that it's probably magic...

... Have you been half asleep? And have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.
... Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors?
The voice might be one and the same
I've heard it too many times to ignore it
It's something that I'm s'posed to be...
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

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Won't you please, won't you please? Please won't you be my neighbor?

Well good morning, neighbor. I've had some interesting ... interations ... with my new neighbor next door. His name is Randy -- he's 26 ... kind'a cute, taller than I. We've met on a number of occasions in passing, have invited each other over twice and we had nice conversation. However ...

I think he is flirting with me. I mean, I could be wrong. But the wink, calling me "babe," -- and his response of "I'll have to remember that," when I told him, "I'm a cheap date. It doesn't take much to get me buzzed." There have been a few other things ... but those are the most prominent.

So is he just being neighborly? Am I reading too much? Everytime he sees me he is ALL smiles. He collects candles. Loves stars and moon stuff. Yet ... he's the assistant maintenance man at my complex. Mixed signals, yo. Perhaps time will tell. LOL. Perhaps.

What's a UBS?

I've been teaching an "eCamp" at UTMB to the new Generic BSN (nursing) students. This is a make-up eCamp for the students who missed it the first go-round. It looks like most of them are bored out of their minds. For the ones who aren't completely glazed over from lack of comprehension, to the one red-headed curly-haired boy who was asleep - to the girl who looks completely put out at having to be here -- it hasn't really been the most "uplifting" eCampe we've done. I hope their presentations aren't complete shit.

This is the last eCamp I'm giving for this school year -- and I have to admit that I'm kind'a glad. I've given 5 of these things -- and I've been the bulk presenter for all of them. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy it -- I enjoy teaching people about things they need to know, hopefully on terms they understand. But I can only go over basic security so many times before I just want to give them all spyware and tell them to figure out how to get rid of it without formatting their hard drive.

And now I'm absolutely bored and am SO ready to get out of here. Thank god tomorrow is a holiday. It has been the week from HELL. Seriously. Hell from Hell even. So a HUGE thank you to those who have been my crutch.

So we got webcams today at work for use with Macromedia Breeze. There has been much fun going on in the office -- as you can see below -- Alex took a fun picture of me and her.

I decided to just take the chance and email you (hoping for a good response from you) and see if we could actually talk and catch-up like normal adults do without any shady memory bias. But after I got your response I realized that we will probably never be friends like I have wanted to with you.

I think it is really difficult for ex's to be friends right away after a relationship. Even 6 months after the relationship is over may be too soon for something like that. Particularly if the breakup was messy and sad. Of course, it depends on the two people.

I, however, am not capable of a friendly relationship given strained emotions and residual pain. And if he can't understand, then ... well , it doesn't matter because we're not going to be friends anyway.

And as far as "catching up as normal adults do without a shady memory bias ..." What the fuck is that? Shady memory bias? Is that like saying "Let's be friends despite of all the emotional bullshit I've put you through." Oh yah, please, let's be friends. I do love your maniuplative ways and your lack of tact when discussing painful topics. /smack Stupid ass. Maybe if you'd quit psycho-analyzing everything you might grow a heart.

So, as Yitzok said -- "Fuck you, I'm going to Guam." Analyze that.

And with all that being said, I sent out a very coridal email asking for no more contact. Period. And to ensure there will be no more e-mails from him, I have blacklisted his address on a server level, so I will NEVER receive another email from his address.

"I wash my hands of your demolition ..." -- Pilate (Jesus Christ Superstar)

Well these strips are awfully small. I can hardly feed a man on those. Why don't you give me another one.

Woman at KFC, IF you are going to buy the value $1 meal for 2 strips and a biscuit, do not bitch about the size of the strips. And if it is not sufficient for "man" -- which are you buyin' the $1 value meal in the first place!?

I literaly had to bite my tongue to withhold my comments from her. On top of that, she was dressed extremely poorly for someone with such an elitist attitude. Not to mention her hair . . . good lord. They could probably have found a cure for cancer in that nest.

But again, I stress, if you are going to skimp on the flo, don't bitch at the size. What do you expect for $1? I can't even buy gas for $1. And you know why they're $1 . . . cuz it's the chicken that fell on the floor that they need to get rid of. "Special seasoning" my ass. It's dirt and pubes.

So tacky woman at KFC, I hope your chicken strips were sufficient for your "man." And that the $2 you saved from buying the normal meal is going to help put your tacky child through college, or to pay for some surgery for your paralyzed sister.

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Is that all love is to you -- a chemical reaction?

I wonder how much of who we are is really a physical manifistation of chemical reactions. Obviously chemistry is a huge part of our emotional makeup, but I wonder how much "the heart" and the firing of a few neurons are the same.

Attraction stems from smells, pheromones -- it's really obvious with animals -- monkeys and such -- but perhaps not so much with people. And there's there the whole dopamine thing that makes us feel good . . .

But love -- I don't know. It's an attachment. And when you have it, life is a total uphill ride. And when it leaves -- there is a withdrawl (dopamine) and life is just one sad bowl of shit.

But does justifying love as a few chemical reactions take the man out of the machine? Does it dehumanize me? Or does it give me an upperhand in my search for another fix?

And if that's the case -- pheromones, interactions, spark here, spark there -- we're really like Legos. And as adolescent as it sounds -- does your Lego peg fill my Lego hole? Is it a matter of finding a certain chemical makeup that keeps that dopamine aflow and makes that attachment become something stronger? And how unique are these patterns? Does being blonde hair, blue eyes, ripped, and godly make your pheromone chemical pattern more common?

I don't understand attraction. What makes me attracted to one person more than another. And how does attraction turn to love -- and love to committment -- and committment to attachment. And what the hell is love at first sight?

What was it like when you two first met?

Was early December -- kind'a chilly outside. I'd gone to Guava Lamp on whim -- threw on this old tent my mother had bought in the Netherlands a few years before and a hat that didn't match. I was meeting friends there, the same usual, needy, self-involved group.

It was fairly crowded that night, and we'd gathered around the front curve of the bar, in front of the jungle of wires they call the karaoke monitor. Smoky and loud, I was feeling kind'a sick from the mixture of smoke and overly-sweet milk-based cocktails. We didn't really talk that much because it was so loud -- but it was Christmasy-feeling and everyone was in a pleasant, stable mood. I remember how we'd make social comments on the drab fashion that was gracing the bar.

I remember seeing him at the corner of the bar, thought he was cute -- our eyes met, but I quickly continued back to the off-pitch fat girl emoting "Killing Me Softly." His eyes didn't leave me. I'd look back everyone in a while, and he was still there. He eventually introduced himself to our group of friends -- him and his friend, Laslo.

I was in the back corner, kept to myself as usual. And he went around the group separatly making formalities.

To Clay: "Hi, are you always this plastic?"

Clay: *gasp* "..."

Then he moved on to me. Stopped in front of me, set down his martini, looked me at the eyes and said:

To Me: "... Will you marry me? ..."

Me: "When did you have in mind?"

To Me: "When's your birthday?"

Me: "The 16th -- why you gonna make it a gift?"

He asked for my number that night. Never a name, although he knew it before. I left that night feeling alive. A big smirk on my face. He was beautiful. And I was wearing a huge bright blue tent with non-matching hat.

And that is what it was like when we met: Intense. And every day of the next four months was equally as moving as the first day.

Friends are like sunshine.
There to brighten up my day.
And give me a tan.

Friends are like assholes.
Sometimes they are full of shit.
And irritating.

But usually friends are
wonderful people to have.
Unless they like Bush.

"Baby, come sit here.
Watch me take some medicine.
Yah, that's real good, boy."

"Take this here powder.
Put it in the little jar.
Now use my lighter."

"Breath in like mama.
Don't you be scared of the smoke.
Medicine is good."

"Don't you tell no one."
Mama's medicine's secret."

"I love you, mama."

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Once upon a time, Prince Adam embarked on a grand adventure to visit his distant friend, Father Michael. The two friends had not met face to face in many years. Father Michael was a religious man, to be sure, and guided his flock of devoted followers in the ways of Lehi and the Grand Nagus.

Prince Adam assigned his best slaves to the task of assembling a caravan for the journey. Foods and trinkets from his native land in the Sonoran Desert were stocked, camels were prepared for the long journey, and a small harem of barely legal boys- a gift for Father Michael.

The trek began in the waning days of winter. The blowing desert wind carried a chill and left many of the entourage longing for chapstick and hot cocoa, but they pushed through the difficulty and eventually emerged into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, where Father Michael lived.

Descending through the thickly forested mountainside, Prince Adam halted the caravan at the sight of a grove of coconuts. One particular coconut tree looked almost as though it were beckoning to him, and on that very tree, one particular coconut looked especially beautiful. Prince Adam's best tree-climbing slave climbed the tree and fetched the coconut, after which they continued into the city below.

Father Michael heard a rap at the door. Ashamed of his nudity, he quickly covered himself in his priestly robes and shouted, "Just a moment!" He pulled at the heavy brass door handle and nearly fell back when he saw the smirking face of Prince Adam waiting there to greet him.

Prince Adam clapped and said, "Michael! It is so good to see you!" They exchanged gang signs appropriate to the Valley of the Shadow of Death and embraced. "I come bearings gifts of the bounty of the Sonoran lands and ask for nothing but your company in return." Father Michael welcomed the prince into his home and the two sat and spoke for hours, sharing stories and playing innumerable games of rock, paper, scissors.

At last Father Michael became impatient and steered the conversation back to the gifts of which the prince had spoken. "Oh, yes yes!" Adam replied, and snapped his fingers at his best gift-fetching slave. Moments later he returned with the coconut, which still seemed to shimmer in the light.

"The first of my many gifts," Adam began, "is not from my land, but rather from yours. Its beauty was so overwhelming that I could not resist bringing it for you to enjoy." Father Michael gasped and said, "Prince! You have been fortunate enough to discover a very rare Enchanted Coconut!"

Raising an eyebrow quizzically, Prince Adam took the Enchanted Coconut in his hands. "Truly? Tell me more."

Father Michael took the Enchanted Coconut and walked to the kitchen. "Let me show you, instead." He removed a RonCo Coconut Cracker™ from his pantry and set it on the heavy mahogany dining table. He beckoned to Prince Adam, "Please, open the Coconut. You discovered it, the treasure it holds should be yours."

Prince Adam walked up and pressed the "Set it and forget it!" button on the Coconut Cracker™. The machine whirred to life, powered by the magic of fairies and those little flying pixies, too. It suddenly pierced the outer skin of the Enchanted Coconut, which split into four perfectly even segments. From the center rose a small, shimmering jelly bean. Spears of light shot from its surface, reminding Prince Adam of good times spent in many a discotheque.

Father Michael spoke in a hushed voice, "At the heart of every Enchanted Coconut exists an Enchanted Jellybean. Eat the Jellybean and picture in your mind any destination, and you will instantly be transported there." Prince Adam looked at Father Michael with a worried look. "Don't worry," Father Michael whispered, "You will be returned to your original location precisely seven days after you depart."

Prince Adam watched the Enchanted Jellybean continue to spin in place, enshrouded by better visual effects than any motion picture of the time. "It's almost too lovely to eat, isn't it?" he mused. Taking the Jellybean between his fingers, he took Father Michael's hand and popped the Jellybean into his mouth. He shot a quick glance to his best care-taking slave and said, "Tend to the caravan and you will be well rewarded. We shall return in seven days."

The slave nodded but immediately looked away as he was shaken by vertigo. The house began to shudder and groan as it reverberated with the energy of the cloud surrounding the two men. The slave dragged himself on his hands and knees away from the blinding light, and just as he reached the door, the shaking stopped. He blinked his eyes several times and rubbed them, and looking back toward the previous source of the brilliant light, saw that the Prince and the Priest were nowhere to be seen.

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Dubbya is such an asshat. "America is better off under my leadership." Better for whom? You? Me? My faggot community?

Yah, you asshat. Get off of CNN.

He's so delusional -- a la "My descamisados still worship me! PERON! PERON! PERON! OHH WAIT! BUSH! BUSH! BUSH!"

. . .

Here in the US
With "Dubbya" Bush
Our nation is falling apart.
With unemployment and terror
At an all time high.
We must maintain freedom
And unification of the worldly type
With no faggots or liberals in sight
To corrupt his appearance world-wide.

Yet then there's Cheney,
With his own new style.
Who is polite and reserved to the bone.
With not an ounce or a smidgeon of moral decay.
He's undefiled,
And good for our country in a round-about way
Except when he starts to get mad.
He'll say something deep like "FUCK OFF!"

Don't cry for me, Laura Bush ...
The truth is your husband's an asshat.
He's so misguided
Thinks he's our leader.
"The world is safer
Under my guidance."

And as for Iraq,
I think it's strange
That the war ended months ago.
Yet there's more violence and killing than ever before.
Now there's beheadings
And carbombs, explosions, and kidnappings too.
Our soldiers are killed everyday
And not in a dignified way...

Don't cry for me, Laura Bush ...
The truth is your husband's an asshat.
He's so misguided
Thinks he's our leader.
"The world is safer
Under my guidance."

He always says too much,
There's nothing more he can think of to win this war
But all we have to do
Is vote for Kerry and make Bush number two!

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Fat gal on a couch
Sits for six years with no bath.
Couldn't leave to piss.

Six years on a couch
at four hundred eighty pounds.
Hey, want a twinkie?

Six years on a couch
Skin has grafted to the chair
Have to cut her out.

Fat gal on a couch --
What ever were you thinking?
Call Jenny Craig!

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James E. McGreevy,
Govenor of New Jersey
Has had an affair.

Not just an affair.
A rainbow colored affair.
Hey, we all like cock!

Don't have an affair
If you are married with kids
And decide you're gay.

Wait. Unless, of course
It's a la Abercrombie
Then I want photos.

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Killer on the loose.
Killed over eighty women.
Up for release soon.

Bastard Governor,
Happy to turn a blind eye.
Karma is a bitch.

How many women
Must a man slaughter these days
To die in prison?

Coral Eugene Watts.
A man with no compassion.
You disgust me, sir.

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So I read this article today about some Christian group that unfurled a banner at a Phillies Baseball game that said "Homosexuality is a sin, Christ can set you free."

Firstly -- it was gay day. (Would you want to be anti-gay in a stadium full of lesbians? I think not. It's like Home Depot Convention. They'll try to remodel your house while you're not looking.)

Secondly -- Why is that they treat gay people as objects and not people? Real Christian. Tell Jesus hi for me, give him my regards as his bunt kicks you to Hell, hypocrites.

There were EXCELLENT lines from this article:

When questioned as to why the police officers did not intervene, an officer stated, "We don't care. We're just here for the overtime."

Hey anyone, wanna compare agendas? Maybe if we team up, we can conquer America's youth quicker. God knows we need a few more twinks out there.

You can break my heart.
But I have news for you, bitch.
You have a tiny dick.

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he wants to fuck whores
now he found a big fat one
hope she likes them small!

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I was talking with Rachel today about love, and life, and men, and sex-ed. I've been kind'a down the past few days, phyisically and emotionally. I think it's cuz I had the surgery a week ago and I have an infection of some sort (among other things) -- so I haven't been 100%.

So Rachel and I were chatting and she says:

Rachel: you need an aggieboy-type
Rachel: except one who's a little less lusty
Michael:
Michael: i think what i need is not to need
Rachel: how very Zen

As of late I just can't even imagine myself in a relationship. That's not to say that I'm opposed to having one ... just people have been on my nerves lately, and quite frankly, I just can't be bothered.

We went on to talk a little of how we grew up, both with divorced parents at a young age, and how it affected the way we viewed things. I have this rather "romanitic" view of it (as is summed up with the domain of this site -- "i dream you're with me, you hold me sweetly, and rock me gently to sleep." Used to be ideal. Now it's just kind'a bullshit. LOL

Rachel has this view of idealism ... that what she has now is perfectly fine. That relationships are best made in friends. And I think I have to agree. I'd honestly rather live the rest of my life with a friend than spend the next 9 months with someone I come to know and love, only to have them go away and be with someone else, rinse, repeat.

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So I had a dream last nite about The Boy. I don't remember much about it ... just the feelings. Same feelings as always -- that kind'a longing, sad feeling.

So I don't understand. Why is it I try my damnedest to put him behind me, yet he still shows up in my dreams!? I haven't talked to him in weeks (like 6-7-8 weeks now) -- but there are just some days where I start thinking about him, and then the dreams come.

Love is a SICK thing. Haunts more than any ghost ...

Ya know, I read this article on CNN today about a man in the Netherlands who was going up to strangers and licking their toes. Well he was finally caught by police for licking a woman's toes on a beach. But they let him go because it's "technically not illegal."

However. They made a law that says random-toe-licking of strangers is illegal.

First of all - ew. EW.

Secondly -- how nice it must be where a law gets passed in a country because of ONE person. Whereas a man can take a gun to a playground, wipe out all the kids -- and nothing happens.

Of course, the Netherlands is MUCH smaller than the US -- but I guess it makes you look at just how much red tape there is in the US government.

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Just real quick -- there is an awful lot of mud-slinging going on with all this political hoo-ha stuff. Just imagine how much better things would be if people would understand that people are human, they make mistakes. Why not focus more on how they can help the country and less on who betrayed who, who dodged the draft, who slept with what intern. Again, everyone makes mistakes, so get over it. If they want Jesus for president, then they're barkin' up the wrong tree. (Geez, he's not even a senator.)

Four days its been since I was admitted to the hospital for the removal of Cornelius, my beloved and detested kidney stone. I've now returned to work with eager anticipation to get on with my life and get past the urethral irritation and constant need to pee.

I went to the Hospital at 11:30 to get an X-ray of my abdomen so they could see where my stone was to work up the best procedure for extraction. There it was, in plain site, a one centimeter stone lodged in the upper part of my ureter (that's the tube that connects the kidney and the bladder). At least it was visible and not hidden by some bone or piece of shit like last time.

While I was waiting for a copy of the X-rays, an old woman and her daughter walked by with a nurse and they were discussing the two casts on the old womans fingers. Turns out she was laying in bed sleeping, and her hand fell off the bed and into a metal fan. Broke both fingers. I couldn't imagine the feeling, much less the sound that accompanied that.

So I'm finally admitted and told to trip strip down to my skibbies and get in bed. Naked and clad only in a piece of paper I laid in room that was cordoned off by privacy curtains. For some reason the room smelt kind'a like burnt popcorn and that weird disinfectant stuff they use at hospitals (for some reason I don't think they use PineSol and saw dust to cover up vomit like they did at school.) The nurse came in and asked me the usual 20 questions "do you have an allergies to medications? do you have a history of diabetes in your family? blah blah blah." Then she caught me off guard. "Are you wearing in finger nail polish?" I did a double take -- "what?" "Are you wearing finger nail polish?" and she grabs my hands and looks. I was laughed and quiestly said no. Then she's like "Any piercings?" as she looked towards my crotch and I laughed again and said no to which she responded "not into that sorta thing, I guess." I was like "sorry."