Work bites.

So I got called off of work tonight. You know I sorta enjoy being lazy...and like not working. You know that people in Europe get paid vacations all the friggin' times...or paid time off...because they figure that someone shouldn't be at work all the time...it increases productivity to get a break...um...I just had six months off...and I already hate work. I work friggin' part time. I'm kinda glad I didn't have to go to work tonight though...my only amigo has left third shift...which bites. I'm pretty bad at making friends...like I don't talk to people...so I guess that deters them from making friends with me. Oh and I would like to say....if you are around a rather quiet person don't say, "Hey...you can come over here and talk to us...we don't bite." Someone said that recently to my boyfriend...and I was like cringe...I hate that shit...I just want to inform you that that does not make us more inclined to come chat...geesh...ok...this blog was about nothing? Possibly.

Don't Go Breaking My Heart

I get really obsessed with weird songs. I mean, really obsessed. Like...Don't Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John. Why is that song so friggin' awesome? It's like just perfect. The back and forth banter between Elton and ?...what the hell is that chick's name? It's like Cici..or Coco or something. Anyway...it's awesome. He's like..."When I was down..." and she's like all sassy..."I was your clown." It was awesome...is there a music video for this song? I must look on youtube and find it now! Um, I'm also planning on researching the origin of bat shit crazy...cause I really dig it. Was it from the obvious...people who hung around bat shit got rabies or something? So then they were bat shit crazy? I dunno....I also learned something quite interesting from a Radiohead t-shirt I need to share...oh, and also the concert...cause it was awesome. So..when ever I get free time I will prattle on! Woo hoo....nobody knows it...nobody knows it...


Wait the chick's name is Kiki Dee....and this suit Elton is wearing is great. And I think Miss Piggy is violating Elton's personal bubble...he looks like he's trying to push her away at times...mahhaha...

People with opinions suck...people who express them suck more.

Yesterday was an odd day. Well odd is not the word. More like tiring. Why did I even try to say it was odd then? I don't know. Anyway at school I had to be stuck in the middle of a conversation I rather not have been around for. Actually it was more like a tirade. More like what I'm doing right now. This girl, very passionate and very annoying, was talking about Iraq for some God awful reason. I mean who the Hell talks about Iraq? No one. Who the hell wants to talk about Iraq? No one. I thought that was the American way. Anywho...she was saying that they should take all the children under the age of five out of the country and just nuke the son of bitch to Hell. I was like...wooahhh..um, what? I wasn't sure what had set her off on this and then she began to explain.
"Do you know...I saw this footage of a dog wandering around the streets of Iraq...some homeless dog not hurting anyone...and the people were kicking the dog and beating the dog and then a man came up and picked up the dog and threw him in a trash compacter where he was crushed to death."
That was her reason for wanting to nuke Iraq...and all it's people...and the young people who don't quite make that five and under cut off point. Because of a dog. Or a couple dogs. Or a flock of dogs.
Dude, I like dogs. I do. I love 'em. But come on. In other parts of the world you know, people think were dirty hippies for the love we have for our pets. I mean we let them sleep in our beds and poop on our floors. People in different countries would think we were bat shit crazy. (I love that phrase.)
Then she was going on about China. About skinning dogs alive. About dolphins getting clubed in the heads while their wife and children had to look on....uh...I digress...
I guess I was getting hysterical about nothing...I mean, I didn't even put my two cents in. I could sense though that if I did she would have berated and "talked really loudly" to make my point non-existant. I hate when people do that. I CAN TALK LOUDER THAN YOU SO YOUR POINT HOLDS NO VALUE.....
Yikes anyway...I would go on about this...but I should probably clean my house...or beat my dog or something...

Sad stuff.

So it's sorta hard to keep up on a blog if you get no response and no one gives a flyin' foo if you write your heart out or if you take a poop on the potty. I think this blog is coming to it's sore little end. At least on myspace I get responses...sigh...

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.