Mixed Bag of Goodies and Blog Against Racism

Quick Note: Blog Against Racism Day is December 1st- if you would like to participate.Just throwing it out there; if you�re interested you can go from there. If you just feel like commenting on other peoples rants you can Google it and find many blogs out there taking a stab at it. I myself will post my very slight opinion on racism - a day early - at the bottom of this post, this makes me slightly demeritorious, but I have a busy schedule tomorrow, so if you want to read my opinion ( and you do, you know you do) then you will have to read the whole post. Maybe ya�ll are more comfortable talking about racism than you are about rape. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "she is not funny, interesting, poetic, witty, or clever any more; she is beginning to bore me with her incessant chatter on The Sudan and Rape and now Racism". Oh well. The comments for the last post were quite extensive so thanks to everyone who exhausted me with their commentary. I fear MJ has commented himself out for life after that one. I apologize to those who found the song vulgar but it did help to make the point, and it�s only a stupid jingle. It�s fine when a guy is heartily singing out (Jimmy "fake redneck" Buffet's) Why Don�t we Get Drunk and Screw but it is deplorable when a female blah blah blah. I think you got the point.........��.. and my commission on the downloads, although paltry, will pay for a couple of needed espressos and that copy of Jesus Loves Me I downloaded from I Tunes. Seriously though I can�t really think of any thing funny or entertaining and I�m in class �or at least on my way so well later people.( ok I�m out now ) Oh maybe a mildly amusing list of sorts for those with an underlying curiosity as to the person behind this nightmare called wonderland or not. 1.When I�m bored or need a few minutes rest from school work and because I don�t have time to paint any more I doodle paint while daydreaming of things I'd rather be doing. 2. I�ve never given a blow job so please stop with the emails. Contrary to current news flashes there are some people who are saving their mouths for bigger and better things. OK, I think I�m done with that amusing crap. Now on to racism: Of course I�m against racism. Most people you speak to with will tell you they are anti racism. Fact is many people are against it but are still racist. Many will point out a million facts and situations to disprove racism saying it is not racism but socioeconomics which causes the rift the divide the prejudices. That of course is nonsense. We have only to look to the Sudan to see that racism exists. Genocides are inexcusable, ignorance is not a factor as it is out there, unlike other genocides which took place in a time where a large part of the world was not originally privy to the information, we don�t have that excuse. To blog against racism one must Blog against the genocide occurring in the Sudan. Without racism this would not be a tolerable genocide. . The people, united, will never be defeated. The people, united, will never be defeated. The people, united, will never be defeated. Time to see the world as a whole! Time to light the fire with the fuel! That's a conscience movement, in our hearts. Everywhere you look red white and blue Everywhere you look they're fooling you.

Anti Flag

Life can never be exactly like we want it to be

in the middle of the night you change your plans. a trip to the south instead of to the east you are thankful again for the violin man his generosity of spirit the loan of his car and for the roommate for tagging along on your trip to visit the genius of genetics the cold bites your nose your fingertips you call the family tell them you are not coming home for Thanksgiving you're going south to the place of old ( and as it turned out to the place of cold) they say what are you crazy? you tell them your friend is sick with the flu left-overs you have not been to visit in two years she has come to you you owe her something besides that you want to wear jeans for Thanksgiving you do not like to dress up to stuff yourself with fat that other feeling is also creeping it's way in "the good grandmother is dead, woe is me" feeling. they say driving is dangerous on the holiday you say I live in nyc for god sake I love you I�ll call you when I get there I never made it to Rhode Island I made it somewhere else Things change so quickly My mind changes so quickly A pitcher of Sangria and a very large omelet have conspired to make my eyelids heavy and my typing erratic. I do want to say something though. I knew Walmart was an evil place and that someday it would make people do some very evil things. Each night before you go to bed my baby Whisper a little prayer for me my baby

Thankful Thankful Thankful

Happy Thanksgiving

To those who celebrate and to those who don't. Most of the world has some kind of day of thanks giving during the year. This country had to have Lincoln finally assign us one day as it seems back in the day Americans were having a few too many thanks giving days.( if ya know what I mean)

I am thankful for many things and I'm not going to write them down because they are the usual things most people are thankful for ...you know like breathing, not living in a place where genital mutilation is common practice, not living in a country where rape and gender based violence is used as an act of war, not starving while the rest of the world feasts and not dying for lack of simple cheap and abundant pharmaceuticals. As I told you it�s the usual. I am thankful that I found out that people can actually view my whole photobucket album by clicking on my picture and deleting some numbers and thankful I only had a couple of "pictures I didn't want anyone to see" in there. I'm thankful that I was able to give the over five thousand viewers ,who have viewed that site over the last month( two thousand in the last two days), a look see.Someone should have told me that it was not like imageshack where the html leads only to one photo. Well, someone finally did but it was a little late. If you little - pimple faced still- college frat boys got a thrill more power to ya- you obviously aren't getting them in real life so knock yourself out and yes of course they are real; my ass is better but you aren't seeing that anytime soon. Thankful.Thankful.Thankful.

That's me.

Do not eat that stuffing, if it is cooked inside the Turkey, unless it hits well over a hundred and sixty five degrees; death by diarrhea is not a pleasant way to go.

ENJOY

In Regard to the NYT and Darfur

From The Coalition for Darfur: Check it out and write to the NYT. Something like this should not be held to paid subscribers. ----> I think it is irresponsible for the New York Times to hide Nicholas Kristof's Darfur stuff behind a "Times Select" subscription, so I am sending you all this latest colum. Kristof is back in Darfur, but all of his reporting is only available to "Times Select" subscribers. I am encouraging people write to the New York Times and ask them to make it available to the general public. Read this for more info: http://coalitionfordarfur.blogspot.com/2005/11/darfur-for-members-only.html Eugene Never Again, Again? By NICHOLAS D. KRISTOF 770 words 20 November 2005 The New York Times Late Edition - Final 13 English Copyright 2005 The New York Times Company. All Rights Reserved. TAMA, Sudan -- So who killed 2-year-old Zahra Abdullah for belonging to the Fur tribe? At one level, the answer is simple: The murderers were members of the janjaweed militia that stormed into this mud-brick village in the South Darfur region at dawn four weeks ago on horses, camels and trucks. Zahra's mother, Fatima Omar Adam, woke to gunfire and smoke and knew at once what was happening. She jumped up from her sleeping mat and put Zahra on her back, then grabbed the hands of her two older children and raced out of her thatch-roof hut with her husband. Some of the marauders were right outside. They yanked Zahra from Ms. Fatima's back and began bludgeoning her on the ground in front of her shrieking mother and sister. Then the men began beating Ms. Fatima and the other two children, so she grabbed them and fled -- and the men returned to beating the life out of Zahra. At another level, responsibility belongs to the Sudanese government, which armed the janjaweed and gave them license to slaughter and rape members of several African tribes, including the Fur. Then some responsibility attaches to the rebels in Darfur. They claim to be representing the tribes being ethnically cleansed, but they have been fighting each other instead of negotiating a peace with the government that would end the bloodbath. And finally, responsibility belongs to the international community -- to you and me -- for acquiescing in yet another genocide. Tama is just the latest of many hundreds of villages that have been methodically destroyed in the killing fields of Darfur over the last two years. Ms. Fatima sat on the ground and told me her story -- which was confirmed by other eyewitnesses -- in a dull, choked monotone, as she described her guilt at leaving her child to die. ''Zahra was on the ground, and they were beating her with sticks, but I ran away,'' she said. Her 4-year-old son, Adam, was also beaten badly but survived. A 9-year-old daughter, Khadija, has only minor injuries but she told me that she had constant nightmares about the janjaweed. At least Ms. Fatima knows what happened to her daughter. A neighbor, Aisha Yagoub Abdurahman, is beside herself because she says she saw her 10-year-old son Adil carried off by the janjaweed. He is still missing, and everyone knows that the janjaweed regularly enslave children like him, using them as servants or sexual playthings. In all, 37 people were killed in Tama, and another 12 are missing. The survivors fled five miles to another village that had been abandoned after being attacked by the janjaweed a year earlier. Now the survivors are terrified, and they surrounded me to ask for advice about how to stay alive. None of them dared accompany me back to Tama, which is an eerie ghost town, doors hanging off hinges and pots and sandals strewn about. The only inhabitants I saw in Tama were camels, which are now using the village as a pasture -- and which the villagers say belong to the janjaweed. On the road back, I saw a group of six janjaweed, one displaying his rifle. Darfur is just the latest chapter in a sorry history of repeated inaction in the face of genocide, from that of Armenians, through the Holocaust, to the slaughter of Cambodians, Bosnians and Rwandans. If we had acted more resolutely last year, then Zahra would probably still be alive. Attacks on villages like Tama occur regularly. Over the last week, one tribe called the Falata, backed and armed by the Sudanese government, has burned villages belonging to the Masalit tribe south of here. Dozens of bodies are said to be lying unclaimed on the ground. President Bush, where are you? You emphasize your willingness to speak bluntly about evil, but you barely let the word Darfur pass your lips. The central lesson of the history of genocide is that the essential starting point of any response is to bellow moral outrage -- but instead, Mr. President, you're whispering. In a later column, I'll talk more specifically about actions we should take, and it's true that this is a complex mess without easy solutions. But for starters we need a dose of moral clarity. For all the myriad complexities of Darfur, what history will remember is that this is where little girls were bashed to death in front of their parents because of their tribe -- and because the world couldn't be bothered to notice. Read

From Chaos to Order and Back Again.

The weekends are slow in the blogesphere, which is why I took most of it off. I hope no one minded. :) Do not count me in as one of the ecstatic faux kewl people going on about the return of "The Cube". I really don't care and didn't miss it a bit. The only good thing I have to say about it is that it came back clean. Germo-phobe that I am this made my day. I love that I can come home late - after a long day of classes and vague wanderings on the streets of the city - rest for a couple of hours ,eat, scroll around the computer and then voila it's midnight..... the night has just begun. It was pretty dark in the haven for below the street people, the happy hour started at 12:30 AM; the food was free and they didn't break your arm if you didn't purchase a drink. Friday night they had added free sushi/sashimi, most of the people were diving into the free dead bird wings with hot sauce so I did not feel like a common criminal taking three helpings of the fishy stuff. I am running still so I need the fuel. Dead fish indeed, but only recently dead fish; at least I hope...that is what they tell me. I believe them because I am starving, going to eat it anyway, and I want to believe that what I put into my mouth is not long dead (only the newly dead for me). I am; after all, not a hyena. I was wearing black boots, but they were not shiny. I don't know why this came to mind except that the women sitting next to me in the bar had black boots on as well only they sparkled, and when the light caught them they shimmered and startled me. I pointed the shininess of the boots out to one of the people I was with and mentioned that I wished my boots were shiny.( you say stupid stuff like that late at night in bars ) He said " you're not a shiny person your boots should be muted". I found this strange and wanted to ask if I was a subtle , shattery person but didn't want to go there so I shoved some raw tuna in my mouth to prevent that very question. It was my third piece and it sort of stuck there for a time before taking it's turn down the great esopageal slide, and for a moment death by sashimi ran past a few brain cells and was gone. I must have still looked like I had the shiny boot question on my mind because he said," look at it this way some people have to add the shine and some people don't". Who knows what he really meant but I choose to take it well and move on; Saturday morning at almost two is not the time for pensive pouting or compliment fishing. Also taking into consideration that the woman with the shimmering, glistening boots of black was starting to talk of recherche things and I knew it was time to move on. News and such brings disappointment and attacks of rapid breathing and finger twisting: Bless John Murtha: Fuck the Republicans in Congress for playing a nasty little political game. This is not a game of chess as much as you all seem to think it is. I know that supposedly we are going from chaos to order, but looking at it all I think they may have been right the first time, and we are truly paradise corrupted by sin and the world we know may someday disappear, eaten away by entropy. If in the flight toward order destruction occurs, and if we are flying toward order.... is any destruction preventable? Is the destruction of men by other men forgivable ,and just part of the flight toward an ordered universe? The hopes that the world may someday free itself from savagery, that the picking order will be less likely to provoke homicidal, genocidal and tyranical tendencies are fading. Will there ever be cultures "competing without carnage"? From chaos to order from order to chaos you tell me? My Play list for the night: Sexual Healing - Ben Harper Sexual Healing - Marvin Gaye Sexual Healing - bunch of friends Bell and Sebastian - Still in Love Elvis Costello - Accidents Will Happen Three tenors - Rigoletto Act Three- La Donna E Mobile Wooden Heart - Tom Petty Refugee - Tom Petty I Hope That I get Old Before I Die - They Might be Giants Diamonds and Rust - Joan Baez Tell Me So - Bikini Kill It Ain't Me Babe- Bob Dylan A Night Like This � The Cure This week ends early and I am not sure how much I will be around. Could be quite a bit could be not at all. The answer eludes me at this moment. Family and friends will congregate to commence a six week tradtion of sloth, gluttony, and consumerism that will not end until the New Year slaps us down. This I despise while still loving the sloths, gluttons and the consumers of which sadly... I am one.

The Real Pornography

Fifteen seconds of your time, maybe a minute if you�re not real bright, but I know you are all pretty smart or you wouldn't be reading my blog. African Action Compose a postcard it's the least you can do. Talking about pornography: The genocide in the Sudan is the real pornography . A simple editorial not so didactic as to put you to sleep so maybe it will hold your attention for the brief read. Google Darfur: It's all there. Join the thousands in action to make it millions in action against Darfur. Check your school, your town , your state, call your legislators and your ( yeah unfortunately mine too) president.

Thursday Morning Sidewalk

Sad isn't it that three hours can be devoted to country music stars patting themselves on the back for some pretty paltry music yet only an hour can be devoted to honoring a legend; not to mention honoring him with some pretty pernicious renderings of his music. The show opener Folsom Prison Blues, performed by some country singer I am not familiar with,( I don't particularly care for the genre of music anyway so I just don't follow all the boys in cowboy hats), was so insipid that I pretty much knew immediately that the show was a bust and a waste of one hour of my weekly two hours of allotted tevoed television time. Sitting through a total wreck of I Walk the Line performed by Kid Rock, ( yes fool I put your picture away before you even happened), and one of the last of that eras great pedophiles Jerry Lee Lewis ( the main pedophile of the era being Elvis of course) was almost too much for my delicate constitution. Only Sunday Morning Sidewalk would have been tolerable but only had Chris Christopherson left the Foo-lish Fighters at home.Sheryl Crow...what the heck was that? One more thing: Bono get the hell out of my Johnny Cash. I do not care how many songs you recorded with him. I swear that Bono has now found what he is looking for and is going to end up being the next President of this country regardless off his base citizenship; he manages to show up, at the very least via satellite, for every event put over the air waves over the last two years. All in all a great waste of time and time is precious. Anyone notice that Dwight Yokum looks like some kid of unidentifiable rodent? That�s it; hopefully I�ll get to post before the weekend. I had a great time at Dougs yesterday despite the fact that he left for a meeting on what was to be my "special day". I would have thought he would have stayed home all day to run such a prestigious event but nooooooo. I would also like to apologize to my very dear friend, the one who actually recorded this show for me while I was in class last evening, I didn't really mean to blame you because the show was so bad.......of course I knew it wasn't your fault but the travesty was so great I just has to blame someone.......... I'll make it up to you I promise.... and I'll pay for the window.

Addendum: I just got in and saw this: COURTING DESTINY�BULL'S EYE

Check it out, for all of us who read Pia and for those who don't and should.

"I'm flesh and blood, but not human. I haven't been human for two hundred years."

A reminder of my position as celebrity guest poster at Waking Ambrose on Wednesday; I couldn't say no as Doug, on his quest for cynical interpretations of words,is as insidious and persistent as the Vampire Lestat was in his quest for aristocratic blood to feed his immortality. Seriously though you should all check it out despite me as it helps the brain cells multiply. On a scale of one to a hundred my brain was a forty-five prior to reading and participating in Waking Ambrose; I now boast a cool seventy-five and hope for eighty by the holiday. Also a quick sad ;( note to say goodbye to MJ over at Political Notio: He is cool in his entire political-ness; however, the incognito blog life ends for MJ. I will miss him but wish him the best in his new secret life as an escort extraordinaire working out of the Trump Tower. ;)

Vampires pretending to be humans, pretending to be vampires. How avant-garde!

I thank the commenter Miz Bohemia for calling me eccentric, nuts, and out- there; I have been called nothing better this week. I�m surely going to check her out tomorrow after I trek my ass to class being held off campus due to graduate student strike.This could mean sitting around in professor�s apartment all day drinking wine; sadly it doesn't mean that, but it could... in another life, in another city ....... perhaps Paris�����.. no wait not Paris........Paris is burning. Serves them right I say. I digress. Absurdity Jam I posted so you must to read it. Also Wombat needs some suggestions as to how to format the site so go help him out I am not a site format kind of girl and am as useless in regard to that stuff as I am at being the good girlfriend.

Claudia , you have been a very bad girl.

I have no deep philosophical musings at this time. Well actually I do but as it is almost three and I try to get to bed before three, and I still have some vague conceptualized pictures to take care of as well and an essay of sorts to rewrite; I will leave you with some thoughts from the hotter vampire; the one from France ...go figure.

The world changes, we do not, there lies the irony that finally kills us.

Wild Nights are Calling.

Ran five miles today. Going to a hookah bar later to celebrate running five miles. ( Wheeze, Wheeze, Wheeze.) I also should be congratulated on removing Smitfraud - C from my computer. That thing was a total bitch to get rid of. Email from the person who asked me if I was a virgin, referencing the post below..

I don't get your post

did you answer the question

YO

what a yo yo. I also evidently offended someone . So Sorry. (Laugh Out Loud) Go wish Doug at Waking Ambrose a Happy Birthday. He's agreed to be my fake older boyfriend. Well he hasn't agreed yet he has to ask his mother but I think she'll come around. He is a Scorpio which explains quite a lot. Wombat, if you happen by here later tonight, I didn't get anything written for Absurdity Jam so don't step on me or anything but you are writing some kick ass stuff so keep it up; my parents coming into town yesterday sort of messed up my delicate time frame of events. When that happens it is like cracking a mirror , the splinters fall on the ground and it takes awhile for me to find them all and sweep them away. I�m lucky if I don't get a few of them lodged in my feet.

Addendum late Sunday night or early Monday morning: Wombat was going to fire me so I had to post something.

It may seem obvious that the blood of creativity has been drained from my ,very easy to draw from, veins. Don't worry it will return soon.

And everything looks so complete, When you're walking out on the street And the wind it catches your feet, And sends you flying, crying Oooh, oo-ooh wee The wild night is calling

I Fell in to a Burning Ring of Fire

My apathy is growing; it surrounds me like those dead skin cells in the bath tub and at this point in time snowboarding around the world for a year is a tempting consideration. The thought of doing this comes and goes, these days, on a daily basis. I met two wild hot boarders the summer after my freshman year of college. I met them in Chile where I was spending a few weeks of the summer; I boarded a few times in the Andes and happened to come across them. They were starting a year long boarding trip around the world before completing their senior year of college; this sounded good to me then and sounds better to me now. I have spoken with them several times over the last few months as their trip ended this past summer back in the Andes and I was originally planning to meet them back there last summer, but circumstances prevented that from happening. I can think of nothing better right now than to take a year off and to do the same. I'm torn, weak little parchment that I am. I don't want to tear, but the fountain pen keeps writing stay and get it over with it will be for the best while the black round felt tip spells get out of here you could be dead tomorrow. Meh. Woke up to the nastiest tasting mouth anyone could ever imagine. You all wanted to know that didn't you? I spend a fair amount of my time at an apartment that does not belong to me; there are reasons for this but we won't go there. I do spend some time in my dorm; however, sadly there is not a whole lot of food there in the middle of the night. Last night there was a box of Triscuits and a red onion. I was starving so...yes, I ate Triscuits topped with red onion. It�s really good - believe me - until you wake up and despite fifteen brushings of the teeth and flossings, and a half a gallon of mouthwash, ( the non burning whole family gathers around begging for it kind), your mouth tastes like a garbage pale without the advantage of having had drunk a pitcher of gin. Is there an award for the worst catalogue writing?

Some guys like to quantify things; horsepower, golf scores, hot peppers eaten in one sitting, so don't tell him his new cashmere is made from the soft underbellies of pampered Inner Mongolian goats.Tell him it's four goat cashmere; it takes the fleece of four goats to make just one sweater.

It's not just soft underbellies from inner mongolian goats babes it FOUR GOAT CASHMERE..... Absurdity Jam: Check it out. Wombat in charge of a group of miscreants, myself included. ahhh EMAIL BAG: Haven't done this in awhile.

Have you ever been in love and are you are Virgin? Can't figure it out from you posts.

Are people supposed to be able to figure that out from my blog ? Without question that question won't get answered here, that is not what this blog is for. ( SHE SAYS INDIGNANTLY)

Love is a burning thing and it makes a fiery ring bound by wild desire I fell in to a ring of fire... I fell in to a burning ring of fire I went down,down,down and the flames went higher. And it burns,burns,burns the ring of fire the ring of fire. The taste of love is sweet when hearts like our's meet I fell for you like a child oh, but the fire went wild.. I fell in to a burning ring of fire.....

ah seventeen ........to be young again. Given up on skinny geeks in pink and heading toward the Man in Black......

I Walk the Line

Have a good day I'm going out to Play. I keep a close watch on this heart pocketbook of mine I keep my eyes pocketbook wide open all the time I keep the ends out for the tie that binds Because you're mine, I walk the line Not before I forget- Nice going Dover The beginning of the end of the madness perhaps?

Anything too Stupid to be Said is sung Blogged.

New Rules: Everyone must post less so I can catch up. I am finding it extremely annoying that blogs that usually posted only once or twice a week, or less, are now posting almost daily. How does one keep up? I could use a nice hot bath, but am having an episode of sulkiness as well as pure laziness and don't feel like moving. I'd have to take a shower first anyway and that involves more time than I have right now. Yes, I'm" the girl who has to take a shower before she takes a bath"; I do this in order to get all the germs and dead skin off. I find shudder-some the thought of sitting around in a tub of water full of rejected and very dead skin cells. You are recoiling slightly in horror and thinking to yourselves, "she may have more problems than I thought�; You�d be wrong and if you�re not taking a shower before you take a bath you are the one with the problem. It just takes more time is all. Taking out my news links. I have too many links and they annoy me and I figure that no one is going to come here to click on links to the news; I don't. How many people do you know that read blogs actually click on the links to the Times or the Post or even the SFC? Right � no one. I think people are smart enough to find their own news and then repost it in their blogs as something they actually made up themselves. I think I can get a drift as to if someone is a crazy liberal or Hilter-esque neo- con or a gay interior decorator just by reading their blogs they don't have to prove it to me by their news choices.They will be gone when I feel like facing the the horrific mess that is my template. I think I will announce it when I add a link and take one off. I think of it as motivation for everyone to treat me well. (like a princess of darkness) No one wants to be the kid kicked out of class now do they? Welcome Girl on the Blog to my Blogroll and say goodbye to Killing the Buddha - they are just not doing it for me any longer. Sacre Bleu!! Coup d�etat potential n'est-ce pas? Quelle horreur! Vive la France! It's the untrimmed pubic hair. Et voil�!

Anyone who has the power to make you believe absurdities has the power to make you commit injustices. VOLTAIRE

I'm at Loss for a Title so I'm Going with Michael Phelps Pubic Hair

Here's the deal: No matter what anyone says when Roe v Wade is overturned it is not going to hurt me or anyone at any college in this country. It is not going to affect the daughter ( or wife for that matter) of any rich Congressman or Senator. It will solely affect females in red states who have no education, no means to travel to a blue state to get an abortion, the women whose husband beats her and feels that pregnant and barefoot is the way to go and the girl who has no hope of a college education as she knows nothing other than having babies and no one has told her differently or helped her further her education in any way. This will perpetuate the poverty and ignorance down thru infinity, but whatever..... go for it idiots. That's all I have to say �. Well, that and thinking that only a small percentage of homosexuals are actually true homosexuals and unchangeable is just plain weird, but go ahead defend him with your life. He�s smart enough and certainly fifteen to a hundred steps above the otherone. Do not for any reason tell me he is not an ideologue because I don�t believe you. Remember to check out my rental person Jay on the left there, he�s hot. I made apple pies with friends last evening, we�ll discus this later. Oh speaking of fools check out Fool�s Gold. If you always wanted to ask Dear Abbey a question but the nasty hair-do really turned you off go ask the Fool. Seriously do it as only a fool would link me to his fool blog but not to his more serious Bread and Circus site and he needs some better questions so go lay it on him. I have been pondering all of my serious life issues trying to decide which ones to submit to him myself; the list is long so it�s taking awhile. Sorry, no skinny geeky guy lyrics today, I'm going to enjoy the weather and study my ass off. forgive me the title but as I'm still getting searches for Michaels Phelps pubic hair I thought I'd do with it today.

Digging Through Ditches and Falling to Rust, Taking Me as Far as a Rental Car Will Go.

I have nothing to say so I think you should all just read my old stuff. It's the shit. I know what you are thinking but keep it to yourself so as not to hurt my feelings. I'm a Rental Car being used for a short time. I'm sure the tank will come back empty and I will have a little more wear but whatever. I have rented my blog to Jay at One Way or Another; he is a better man than I as he willingly has rented his blog to someone of the R persuasion; this I think is very treasonable reasonable of him. Go check him out he is quite funny, seems intelligent, and does not post pictures of naked women. ( when I sent him ten dead drop dead gorgeous nude photos of myself he sent them back with a recording of Go Away Little Girl) We have been trying to get him to post naked pictures of himself for some time but so far he isn�t cooperating. He also does not pontificate like some people - ( Alice-in-Wonderland-or-Not)- so do not be afraid. Check him out on the left, at the top of the my "blogs I read" links. What they're thinking: As I lay dying, so to speak, Mike Brown was playing Queer Eye. What's the world coming to? No real notes for today as I am kind of busy but I do want to mention that Nordstrom�s is so 1989. Commercial: I will be the celebrity Wednesday poster at Doug�s Place Waking Ambrose in a couple of weeks. You will get more commercials as to this in the future. I am very busy with my internet seminar schedule but as he is a friend I squeezed him in. title: lyrics from Rental Car - Beck

Nigtmare on Union Square or The L L Bean Giant Dream Strikes Again

I saw myself in fuzzy, inexpensive but warm, well made wool clog slippers. I was on the porch of a wide open farmhouse, presumably in Vermont, sipping tea. I was even wearing the typical plaid flannel shirt with the turtleneck underneath; my jeans were lined with warm plaid flannel as well. I wasn�t dragging in buckets of maple sugar but the aura was that it was a serious possibility. I was the quintessential L.L. Beaner, stuffing my grandchildren with wholesome oatmeal and raisin cookies while reading to them from Dickens, and Ogden Nash as I sat remembering how I had loved Ogden Nash when young, and had even named one of my first online journals I�m a Stranger Here Myself as a simple schoolgirl tribute. A golden retriever lay at my feet and my arthritic knees were kept warm by an old wool batik throw which I cherished for it origins, and for the fact that it was given to me by my first Indonesian lover, a lover from my time of freedom and absolute uncertainty. My papers of note, the work that had brought me my notoriety, were piled carelessly on the old kitchen desk covering the desk�s glorious patina, and taking away the desks ability to be seen, oh'ed and ah'ed over and objectively valued by the farmhouse guests for it's age. These papers were thrown carelessly without regard; as if they were nowhere near as important as in the reality of my heart and soul they were. It was as if my life in Vermont as a grandmother, master of dogs, and tender of the foliage were all that was important. There was; however, no feeling of serenity. It was a nightmare. Anyway I�m awake now, and have to go study, not that there will be anything to study as the fine institution I attend will be experiencing some strikage soon, but we won�t discuss my life of hard knocks here. In regard to the new Supreme Court Nominee all I can say is... Jesus. Now I never use his name in vain even though I don't think of him as the son of anyone but Mary, but I fear for us in this case. Should we have let the stupid not so bright evangelical in? No, of course not but let us not let this one in without a fight please. Seriously I have to digest all the ramifications of the new supreme court nominee and tend to an abrasion I obtained while parading around the village , not as the village idiot as some might presume but as a plain old box; slutty widows best not venture into the village at night for the same reason Red Sox fans shouldn�t. Need I say more? I was a slutty box though if that makes you feel better.