She said she tought Hip Hop was only guns and alcohol

It used to annoy the poo out of me. Yes, the poo. This thing we call rap music. This machine. No one could change my opinion on the matter no matter how hard they tried. And it was tried. It was pounded. To the point where I was laying drooling in a daze of drunken hypocrisy spouting "yo, yo" and drinking wild irish rose.
I liked the Beastie Boys alot and felt that foray into "rap" music was enough for me. I was a little white girl in the suburbs and related more to Ben Folds lamenting the booming bass in the car next to him then to the "ghetto music" coming from down the hall. I was really immersed in Radiohead. I was depressed. I liked to sulk. I was an idiot. I had a real strange disconnection with people. And I hadn't yet discovered liquor. My stoned days were coming to an end. I was becoming too paranoid. A regular paranoid android. And I hated the thoughts that came to mind about other people. I had vicious thoughts about them. Thoughts about how much of a fucking idiot they were for just saying whatever they had so happened to say at the time. I couldn't even fake stone laugh. I hated realizing I was stoned. And that was happening alot. With alcohol it's the last thought from your mind. As long as your wasted that is. I always thought I could drive. People said I was a good drunk driver.

ANYWAY!

It got to a point in my life where I was tired of being sad. And listening to sad music. You can only listen to Thom Yorke, curl up in a ball and piss reality for so long. I had to admit to myself that I generally liked life. That I generally like people. And I generally like being happy. And in that I had to realize I generally liked the Outkast song "B.O.B." (Bombs over Baghdad for you's out there who don't know). It was a monumental step. I went to Best Buy with my friend Matt. And I picked up that album, I picked up Stankonia. I remember him saying, "You should buy Aquemini; its a lot better." But I didn't know. I remember buying "The Love Below/Speakerboxx" and realizing...I'm going over the edge and it's awesome.
It wouldn't be until I started dating my boyfriend from another mother that I got to listen to Aquemini. He had a janky copy. He had stolen it from one of his sister's friends. We both doubt she noticed. I would steal it from him alot.
When you think about what albums, CDs, etc. you would want to have with you on a deserted island, with a kickin' sound system, what would you think of? I always think about this and I come to only one definite selection. No not Radiohead. To me there is no definate Radiohead CD. OK Computer is too wonderful and thus goes into a realm of "too good to be true". It's like that with Beck's "Odelay". Not one song misses and yet it's almost too perfect to listen to repeatedly. And what is that CD?! Why Aquemini of course!
And this is why;
I found very unexpected things in Aquemini. My perceptions of what a CD, let alone a rap CD should be were exploded. It opened my mind to aspects of life that I could relate to. I found soul mates out of two Southern playas from ATL. Is that supposed to happen? I think people think that is an odd thing. I think it is an odd thing at times. But there are parts of Aquemini laced with the sort of inspiration I had been lounging for. There are things that are spoken and beats that whisper though that bring me a smile or pound my fist. With Outkast it's like...rebellion. Not because I'm some little white girl in Muncie listening to rap music. There's a lot of white people that listen to rap music. It's because I'm a person and I feel the tulmutulous vibes echoing though like any other person/human being. I can't explain it myself. Sometimes the words speak more. Duh. And sometimes I lose my train of thought....

"Synthesizer, microwave me
Give me a drug so I can make seven babies
Pump my breasts up, can you suck the fat up
Please make my life appear
like ain't no such thing as bad luck
My, nose ain't right
Like I need a new one
Just take your pick, a yellow red
A black or a blue one
Virtual reality, virtual, BULLSHIT
Synthesizer preachers can reach you
up in the pulpit
Who a bitch?
Give me my gat so I can smoke this nigga
Tell his mamma not to cry
because they can clone him quicker
than it took his daddy to make him
Niggaz bitin verbatim
Thought provokin records radio never played dem
Instant, quick grits, new, improved
Hurry hurry, rush rush, world on the move
Marijuana illegal but cigarettes cool
I might LOOK kinda funny but I ain't no fool
Now if you wanna synthesize I emp-athize
Now if you wanna synthesize I emp-athize
But if you synthesize I will understand
your synthesizer man"

She said she tought Hip Hop was only guns and alcohol
I said "Oh hell naw!" but yet it's that too
You can't discrimahate because you done read a book or two

Blah, blah.

So I'm pretty bored. And sick. There's sinus pressure and puss and droopy eyes. My son is sick too..and we sit and sniffle together.
I have been numbing my brain lately with literature. I'm on the fifth book of the Dark Tower series by Stephen King. Don't tell me what happens. I'm trying to gear myself up for the eventual death of Oy. So don't tell me anything else.
Work sucks. I have to retouch now. Basically I take away nasty zits from oily greasy kids. Time goes by slow. I begin to hate time. And senior pictures. And zits.
Ryne just turned two. We had a hellacious party. (If you weren't there, you were square) I felt like it went by very fast. Ryne cried when we tried to sing him happy birthday. I would have cried too.
I haven't lost any weight this year and I am depressed. I still envision myself as the 105 lb girl who could fit in size five jeans. I have trouble buying clothes for myself. It's hard for me to go past large. That's probably a stupid thing to be sad about...but...I am. I'm starting back up my exercise regime when I get laid off. Five days of cardio. I finally found out online that you can do all the strength training and pilates your little tush can push out, but if you have a big orange glub of fat in front of it you'll never see that sweet six pack abs. I don't know why it took the internet to tell me. I was doing two days of cardio, two days of strength, and two or one day of pilates. But now I'm gonna go gung ho and do cardio five days in a row. Which I hate. I hate sweat. I'm gonna try and stay on a 1400 calorie diet, but I'm not gonna kill myself over it. Just try to not eat a lot of candy and sweets and chips and shit. And drink green tea. I read online that green tea is supposed to help with the whole weight loss crap. That's probably bs, but it's my kind of bs.
I am obsessed with the new Alicia Keys song, "No One". You should be too, it's awesome. I didn't like it at first...now I'm gonna listen to it so much I won't want to listen to it again for years. Also, a new Junior Senior song. It's pretty good. The video is good. It sorta sucks that Senior is gay, I think he's sexy in a weird mustachioed Mario Brother way. I need to shut up.

Hunter be thy name; shooting typewriters be thy game.

There are times, however, and this is one of them, when even being right feels wrong. What do you say, for instance, about a generation that has been taught that rain is poison and sex is death? If making love might be fatal and if a cool spring breeze on any summer afternoon can turn a crystal blue lake into a puddle of black poison right in front of your eyes, there is not much left except TV and relentless masturbation. It's a strange world. Some people get rich and others eat shit and die. Who knows? If there is in fact, a heaven and a hell, all we know for sure is that hell will be a viciously overcrowded version of Phoenix — a clean well lighted place full of sunshine and bromides and fast cars where almost everybody seems vaguely happy, except those who know in their hearts what is missing... And being driven slowly and quietly into the kind of terminal craziness that comes with finally understanding that the one thing you want is not there. Missing. Back-ordered. No tengo. Vaya con dios. Grow up! Small is better. Take what you can get...
Gonzo Papers, Vol. 2: Generation of Swine: Tales of Shame and Degradation in the '80s (1988)

The Edge... There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over. The others- the living- are those who pushed their luck as far as they felt they could handle it, and then pulled back, or slowed down, or did whatever they had to when it came time to choose between Now and Later. But the edge is still Out there. Or maybe it's In.



If the current polls are reliable... Nixon will be re-elected by a huge majority of Americans who feel he is not only more honest and more trustworthy than George McGovern, but also more likely to end the war in Vietnam. The polls also indicate that Nixon will get a comfortable majority of the Youth Vote. And that he might carry all fifty states... This may be the year when we finally come face to face with ourselves; finally just lay back and say it — that we are really just a nation of 220 million used car salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns, and no qualms at all about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable. The tragedy of all this is that George McGovern, for all his mistakes... understands what a fantastic monument to all the best instincts of the human race this country might have been, if we could have kept it out of the hands of greedy little hustlers like Richard Nixon. McGovern made some stupid mistakes, but in context they seem almost frivolous compared to the things Richard Nixon does every day of his life, on purpose... Jesus! Where will it end? How low do you have to stoop in this country to be President?
"September," from FEAR AND LOATHING ON THE CAMPAIGN TRAIL '72 (Warner Books, 1973), pp 413–414

The kids are turned off from politics, they say. Most of 'em don't even want to hear about it. All they want to do these days is lie around on waterbeds and smoke that goddamn marrywanna... yeah, and just between you and me Fred thats probably all for the best

The ugly fallout from the American Dream has been coming down on us at a pretty consistent rate since Sitting Bull's time-and the only real difference now, with Election Day '72 only a few weeks away, is that we seem to be on the verge of ratifying the fallout and forgetting the Dream itself.


The Rumsfeld-Cheney axis has self-destructed right in front of our eyes, along with the once-proud Perle-Wolfowitz bund that is turning to wax. They somehow managed to blow it all, like a gang of kids on a looting spree, between January and July, or even less. It is genuinely incredible. The U.S. Treasury is empty, we are losing that stupid, fraudulent chickencrap War in Iraq, and every country in the world except a handful of Corrupt Brits despises us. We are losers, and that is the one unforgiveable sin in America.

Morality is temporary, wisdom is permanent.


We have become a Nazi monster in the eyes of the whole world, a nation of bullies and bastards who would rather kill than live peacefully. We are not just Whores for power and oil, but killer whores with hate and fear in our hearts. We are human scum, and that is how history will judge us. No redeeming social value. Just whores. Get out of our way, or we'll kill you. Who does vote for these dishonest shitheads? Who among us can be happy and proud of having all this innocent blood on our hands? Who are these swine? These flag-sucking half-wits who get fleeced and fooled by stupid little rich kids like George Bush? They are the same ones who wanted to have Muhammad Ali locked up for refusing to kill gooks. They speak for all that is cruel and stupid and vicious in the American character. They are the racists and hate mongers among us; they are the Ku Klux Klan. I piss down the throats of these Nazis. And I am too old to worry about whether they like it or not. Fuck them.

'Bill Clinton does not inhale marijuana, right? You bet. Like I chew on LSD but I don't swallow it.

It will be guerilla warfare on a global scale, with no front lines and no identifiable enemy... We are going to punish somebody for this attack, but just who or what will be blown to smithereens for it is hard to say. Maybe Afghanistan, maybe Pakistan or Iraq, or possibly all three at once. Who knows?
"Kingdom of Fear" (2001-09-12)

This blizzard of mind-warping war propaganda out of Washington is building up steam. Monday is Anthrax, Tuesday is Bankruptcy, Friday is Child-Rape, Thursday is Bomb-scares, etc., etc., etc... If we believed all the brutal, frat-boy threats coming out of the White House, we would be dead before Sunday. It is pure and savage terrorism reminiscent of Nazi Germany

I take no pleasure in being Right in my dark predictions about the fate of our military intervention in the heart of the Muslim world. It is immensely depressing to me. Nobody likes to be betting against the Home team.

These horrifying digital snapshots of the American dream in action on foreign soil are worse than anything even I could have expected. I have been in this business a long time and I have seen many staggering things, but this one is over the line. Now I am really ashamed to carry an American passport.

I have a theory that the truth is never told during the nine-to-five hours

Objective journalism is one of the main reasons American politics has been allowed to be so corrupt for so long. You can't be objective about Nixon.

Myths and legends die hard in America. We love them for the extra dimension they provide, the illusion of near-infinite possibility to erase the narrow confines of most men's reality. Weird heroes and mould-breaking champions exist as living proof to those who need it that the tyranny of the rat race is not yet final.

When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.

One more episode of The Office.

I have been distressed over the past few weeks about an end coming to my beloved Office. (At least for the season and no longer) This Thursday is to be the last episode for the season unless the strike is resolved soon. I'm a little annoyed. Who am I annoyed at? I dunno. Everyone says, "Support the writers." and etc. but actually I'm a little annoyed at them too. Is it wrong for me to be selfish? The Office was one of those little bright spots in the middle of the week, giving me the good laugh I needed! Now it's going to be gone and right in the middle of a season that was kicking ass. So I'm not going to spend any more time chatting about the Office on here...somehow I've managed to acquire a Livejornal account. I think my page is www.meggiedonch3.livejournal.com but don't quote me on that. Anyway I'm gonna spend my time blubbering about the Office on there where NO ONE will definately see it. I might still post cool videos I find on here, cause I don't know if you can do that on Livejournal. As if I needed another blog thing in my life...but I am getting laid off soon.

The way to the middle is in between.

So I was let off work early after eating at a Halloween carry in. I feel immense pressure whenever I'm in line for those things. Like the weight of the world is hovering on your shoulders the minute you step in the line. People's eyeballs grow laser cannons that pierce the very pores in the back of your neck. Pick your food and hurry. No one picked the cookies I brought in. It didn't help that they were practically hidden! Geesh. Well I have nothing else to write and am trying to decide whether to play my video game (FF 12) or finish my book (The Dark Tower 2). I think I'll go read. My book has gotten all jacked up! I'm sure it will only continue from there.

Uncomfortable...so uncomfortable.

Recently, in an issue of Enertainment Weekly (yes it was the one with people from the Office on it) they explored the issue of the most uncomfortable TV moments ever. Number one? David Breant giving his motivational speech to a crowd of strangers. While that was hard to stomach, I recently came across my own personal uncomfortable TV moment brought to you by the Daily Show. For some insane reason, Lynne Chenney agreed to be on the program. She came out, first of all, carrying a Darth Vader doll for John Stewart proclaiming it was an old family heirloom. John seemed stumped. She was there to talk about some stupid book she wrote about living in Wyoming but the topic did veer away from that. He tried to press her on how she felt about being involved in a political party that openly dismiss people like her own daughter (who is gay). She sorta skirted the question, but gave somewhat of a satisfactory answer. Then they started talking about if Dick Cheney at home is good at admitting when he is wrong. And that's when it got into horrible uncomfortable territory. She was getting a little put off and I found myself flipping back and forth really fast unable to watch as the conversation then veered into American priorities. I didn't hear exactly what she said something that made the audience moan with disapproval. Somehow she ended up saying something about how America's priorities didn't involve terroist attacks on other countries or something. It was painful. Everyone was pained. I was pained.

Cold air=depression.

I really like this picture although it is huge. So maybe it won't look to great and fuck up the beautiful feung shey...(I know I spelled that wrong)..of my site.

Winter is steadily coming. It's kinda cold outside and winter is the best time to sit back and reflect. And remember. Remember what it was like winters ago. Ages ago it seems. I am different now. In a different shell. In a different persona. Yet not all that different after all. Do people change more than I do? Does the world drift around my head without taking notice? Does it matter that my simple being on this planet effects at least something in the ripples of the future? Because it does. I might be a piece of shit on the side of the road, but someone has to step over it. Hahaha...I'm tired.

Damnit! Now I made the pic small and now you can't read it. The bottom part says, "Sand is over rated. It's just tiny little rocks."

A sentence or two about my sister.

My sister Kristin is the best sister in the whole wide world. And since she's the only person reading this right now, I just thought I'd say you rock the mic, MC KD. Oh, boy...really though...remember singing R.Kelly to each other. Although I think I was the one doing most of the singing. Remember that video? With him in the field and stuff up on a little ladder thing. Not even a full grown ladder, just a midget one. Just high enough so he could gaze upon the amber waves of corn. What did that have to do with Spacejam the movie? Or the song? Do you think of corn when you're flying? Or popcorn? Maybe that's how it ties in with the movie. And his crazy hand movements-I had them down pat. Oh, R.Kelly...there's a chick at my work that said she would let him pee on her anytime...it was disturbing...

Wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! (Is it wrong of me to admit that I actually kinda like this song....I think it is...)(Hoo!)

David Brent Vs. Michael Scott: Who Would You Rather Work For? (Part 2)

Michael Scott: Everyone loves Michael Scott? Right? Right? Right. Are at least Michael likes to think so. In some sort of way, maybe everybody does. Except for Ryan though, I think he would like to stick a pitchfork in him. Dwight adores him with such unsurpassed loyalty he would sell his toes to science if Michael becomes too hard up for money. And everyone else seems to be able to tolerate him to some degree. That seems to be a big difference between Scott and Brent. (Ah, I love how they have first name, last names) No one wants to tolerate Brent. They will ignore him and his totally inappropriate comments where as Michael's employees will engage him to some degree. I suppose though you have to engage someone who is threatening to jump off a roof or kidnapping a pizza delivery kid. When Michael does his booze cruise dance it's not quite as humilating. At least it was motivational. When David does his charity dance there is utter silence. You feel for Michael because he honestly is a good guy who just has an askewed view on things going on around him. He'll freak out when it's discovered that a black man in the office went to jail, not because he went to jail, but because he doesn't enjoy the stereotype. He's the last one to point the finger at that guy, because it is wrong to assume it is the black guy just because he's black. But he has trouble seeing that maybe it is that guy because he's the sort of guy who went to prision once. (I can't remember why it was...) David Brent makes a joke about a black man and his...junk...and can't understand why others would find it so offensive if the one black guy in the office didn't. Michael wears his heart on his sleeve. In subtle ways he conveys thoughts and feelings we all have, albeit in a graceless way at times. And he cries alot. When he was crying to the girls at the mall about Jan didn't you feel like coming to his defense and telling Jan to leave our little Michael alone. He's a little boy in a hairy man's body. (Pam can attest to that.) And we love him. Maybe just a little more than David Brent. Although David does have the better one liners and the better hand movements. Still even David has his moments where you truly feel for the guy.

Cartoons suck...

Why do cartoons now of days suck? Why can't they be like the Gummibears? The poor kids now of days. Man, we had it good. Even that theme song kicks ass. Now of days cartoons have to be "educational" and have a "point to them". Man we used to watch a mush up of the best jibberish ever. Now it's like Dora and Diego. Who do a lot of screaming. All though there is Spongebob. That shit is extremely wacked out. Almost more than Ren and Stimpy. Is that possible?
My friend Alison and I were drunk and trying to remember weird cartoons we used to watch. I remember being extrmely upset when they took Gummi Bears off the air. I was like in kindergarten or something and it really distressed me.

David Brent Vs. Michael Scott: Who Would You Rather Work For?

If were going to make this a competition, it has to be a competition of wills, of minds, of philosophies. So let's take one at a time.
David Brent: Sure he's a little tubby and comes to acquire the nickname Bluto (from Popeye)(which is really a good nickname!). But isn't he just adoreable in his leather jacket and boots. Always ready to turn on his employees, but always desperate to please. It just seems like his British underlings have the most minimal of respect for him. No one wants to have anything to do with him and try there best to avoid him at any cost. What is it about this man that makes him so loveable? Really at times he is not quite as loveable as Michael Scott. If it comes down to him getting in trouble or being able to blame it on someone else-he's on it. But his desperate attempts to be liked, which is all he really cares about, strikes a cord somewhere deep in everyone's psyche; making his crying attempt to keep his job extremely heart wrenching. The office is all he has. Three years later after being laid off (made redundent, which I'm still not sure what that means) he still comes to the office to chat with his former coworkers...whether they like it or not. Finally though, he comes through and proves himself to be a rather wonderful human being after all and not just the whipping boy he had allowed everyone to make him, even his supposed best friend.

I'll comment more on this great debate, but man, I'm trying to drink some beers and need to concentrate.

The Office and The Office.

Both of the Offices are awesome.

Sleep, that one frontier I never go to.

Hunter S. Thompson used to say that sleep sucks. Or something to that point. I'm sure he was much more poetic than that. (Probably "Sleep sucks cock and balls.") So he slept very little. Which is the case for me now of days. I don't remember the last time I've slept a good 52 hour week, which was mandatory for me. Now I'm lucky if I get 25 hours of sleep. That is the price of working third shift. I don't know why I keep getting these oddball jobs that place me with oddball people and oddball situations. Like pizza delivery. Man, there were some awesome people I delievered pizza too. Not that I don't like the people at my job. They're all pretty awesome. (Except sometimes I can actually feel my teeth grinding when some of them speak.) But third shift people are just weird. It takes a different set of balls to work third shift...and to stay awake. Like now...I should be asleep...but I can't. Come 11 o'clock I'm gonna be chugging some nasty watery coffee. Man, why do things that are free have to suck? Why can't we get a Starbucks machine at my work and the coffee from that, be free? Aaaahhhh...ranting to no one at all.
He was quite the handsome fellow.

Video games suck.

Why are video games so addictive? Why do I feel I need to waste my life on one little game? Especially the Sims? What do you get out of that crap? I remember the Atari. There used to be this game where you had to go and find the key to the castle or something. You were a little square wandering around in a seven color world. So you would be (walking? how does a square walk?) minding your own business. And then snap! A horrible looking dragon thing would come out and chase you down, snapping at you until you were resting comfortably in it's stomach. Well it wasn't exactly horrible looking, but it was scary for a five year old. Or maybe just to me. The whole concept of someone chasing you (even a pixalated dragon) freaks me out.
So I didn't enjoy the Atari too much but I just had to get the Nintendo. God, I was in love. I used to fake sickness so I could play. My mom would find me playing after faking my horrible disease and walk out sighing. I really remember her doing that one time. Dr. Mario we made a family game. Piting family memeber against family member in a do or die situtation against rogue plague diseases. Aw, good times.
Later on, when the Super Nintendo was pimpin' it. I became obsessed with Final Fantasy 3. I mean, who didn't? That game, to this day, is the best game in the series. Now of days they're just confusing. Amazingly beautiful, but confusing. This had an easy enough story line to follow, beautiful music (I had the soundtrack, beat that you nerd!), the best characters (like twenty billion of them, yet all their own seperate story lines were wonderfully flushed out and full), and by far the best video game villian...can I say...ever? (Poisioning a whole town, killing Leo, that evil laugh, that come hither stare, Kefka was a pimp...an evil pimp...I guess most pimps aren't very nice though) Anyway, many hours of my life were spent on that crap. I feel like suing Squaresoft. But then again I can't. They gave me Chrono Trigger and Secret of Mana. Some of the best games ever.
Well now we come to today. I think there is a major problem with video games now. You raise all these kids from like five years old, playing video games. Come out with better systems, cooler games, (has anyone played Twilight Princess?) and then expect us as adults to lead lives and have jobs and take care of our kids. What's up with that crap? Was I supposed to at age 20 give up my love for video games? Was there a cut off point I wasn't aware of? I just played the Wii the other day and my son was involed in two separate Wii accidents already. (He got smacked in the arm and smacked in the back of the head...were good parents.) What am I supposed to do? When he's graduating from college is it expected of me to stop playing video games? Will he hate me because I spend more time on his Playstation 300 then he does? Will I be playing "Legend of Zelda for Cripes Sake Save Me Link" when I've 93?
I hate you video games! Damn you to hell! And then catch me online watching Final Fantasy 7 Advent Children.

Following in my sissy's footsteps.

So I've started this more for myself than for anyone else. I doubt anyone will read this. But I remember a time in my bygone youth where I could write down every stupid thought that came to mind with as much ease as I can drink a beer now. Then one day it was gone. I don't remember the day exactly. It was kind of like the day when I realized I couldn't play pretend anymore. Or the day when I realized, "Wow, how am I ten years old already? This is going by fast."
And now 15 years have passed. And I have a child and a job and dishes to do. Never do I have the time to sit and write; not that the words have come to me as of late. It's like the spring of any of my worthy thoughts has dried now and I've become so obsessed with the normalities of life I've forgotten how to express any feelings or daydreams I have. Not to say I don't still daydream. Shit, I would be dead if I didn't daydream. Bitch, I daydream all the time. Like it's going out of style. But I haven't written anything down and the constrants of trying to write a short story or epic American novel is too much for me. I've never been able to do it and I doubt I ever will. (Though the hope still dwells somewhere inside.)
Anywho, I hope to keep up with this. I get to post anything I want. Stupid clips that amuse me. Thoughts that will stupify others. Drunk droolings, tired ramblings. Memories of the good ol' times and those times it feels like God took a dump on me.
Give me encouragement, damn you! Give me inspiration! And the ability to spell....'cause I can't.