I dug up this prized old gem from the bottom of my movie collection, childhood memories perfectly preserved on digital versatile disc, like a prehistoric mosquito trapped in amber.

As a ten year old boy, the Spielbergian mystique of cinematic thunder lizards was more than enough to keep me enthralled with the fantasy of becoming paleobotanist when I grow up. It was at this time that I fell into a deep compulsion of obsessively memorizing facts about dinosaurs and casually but inappropriately interjecting them into conversations. Like the time I quietly educated my aunt about the average height and weight of a brachiosaurus at my great grandmothers funeral.

Seventeen years have passed, and unfortunately I’m neither grown up nor a paleobotanist.  As someone who has learned to feign the critical thinking skills of an adult strictly for social and conversational reasons, the first thing I noticed was the “grown up” subtext, like the sexual frustration of Laura Dern’s repressed character, a “clever girl” as beautiful and deadly as a Dilophosaurus (average height 5 feet 11 inches, average weight 980lb.), poised to spit hot acid in the face of the first man to cross her.

Compared to most of my childhood friends, Jurassic Park has aged extremely well, it’s hard to imagine that this movie was made almost two decades ago.  I find it alarming that there’s been barely a handful of movies of this calibre made since, but I find it more alarming that molecular cloning techniques have progressed to the point where the necessary equipment and instructions can be easily found online; Even an unassuming nutritionist such as myself can get a summer job cloning simple organisms in a biotech lab.  I can’t help but wonder if some disgruntled ex-lover has unlocked my genome from a rouge pubic hair, and is currently harboring a lysine contingent copy of me in his basement.

My favorite scene (which for legal reasons we cant show you a clip of; but please enjoy the embedded reenactment at the end of the review) always was, and remains to be, what I now consider to be a thinly veiled coming-of-age metaphor. When the Tyrannosaurus (representing a turbulent induction to puberty, or maybe your parents divorce) takes advantage of the compromised electric fence and tears the children from the comfort of their brightly colored hybrid SUV. As young Tim wriggles his way through the mud and out of that overturned Suzuki tracker, it’s as though he’s exiting the womb of childhood and forcing his way through the muddy birth canal of manhood. I only wish that Sam Neil (or some similar Indiana Jones-esqe male archetype) had been there for me, and taught me to stand my ground with a stiff upper lip. Don’t run away from life’s conflicts. Don’t move. they can’t see you if you don’t move.

“This is the one crappy weekend”

-Bitter Critic

Ungoogle yourself.  This is ideal for those who are looking for jobs and who don’t want prospective employers to know what they really think.

It’s also good for recently minted PhD’s as it will help you rid your Facebook page of incriminating photos and your blog of the sort of thing that the committee at Harvard might look down its nose at.

After all, the name of the job game is- present yourself in your best false light, pretend to be someone you aren’t, and land a job you’ll hate because your new employer won’t let you be yourself and wouldn’t have hired you if they had known the real you in the first place.

Revenge,sweet revenge
that’s the name of the game,
that’s what you get for hurting me,
Dont play around with me.
I’m not your play toy.

You think your so high and mighty,
sitting up there like a king.
But lemme remind you that your throne aint made of gold
and that your about to be de-throned.

I’ll make you beg,
I’ll make you cry,
Your gonna pay
for each of your lies.
Watch and see and wait.

Be ready,Be fore-warned,
I’m out for your blood
there aint no fury like a woman scorned,
or a gal wronged.

Speram ca asta o va face sa fie mai linistita. Sau nu?

Excerpts from Sir William Muir’s ‘Life of *beep*’ (based on the incidents recounted in earliest biography of *beep* by Ibn Ishaq in A.D. 750)

In the Meccan period of his life there certainly can be traced no personal ends or unworthy motives….*beep* then was nothing more than he professed to be, “a simple Preacher and Warner”; he was the despised and rejected prophet of a gainsaying people, having no ulterior object but their reformation. He may have mistaken the right means for effecting this end, but there was no sufficient reason for doubting that he used those means in good faith and with an honest purpose.

But the scene changes at Medina. There temporal power, aggrandisement and self-gratification mingled rapidly with the grand object of *beep* life; and they were sought and attained by just the same instrumentality. Messages from heaven are freely brought down to justify political conduct, in precisely the same manner as to inculcate religious precept. Battles were fought, executions ordered, and territories annexed, under cover of the Almighty’s sanction. Nay, even personal indulgences were not only excused but encouraged by the divine approval or command. A special license was produced, allowing *beep* many wives; the affairs with Mary the Coptic bond-maid was justified in a separate Sura; and the passion for the wife of his own adopted son and bosom friend was the subject of an inspired message in which *beep* scruples were rebuked by God, a divorce permitted, and marriage with the object of his unhallowed desires enjoined. If we say that such “revelations” were believed by *beep* sincerely to bear the divine sanction, it can only be in a modified and peculiar sense. He surely must be held responsible for that belief; and, in arriving at it, have done violence to his judgement and better principles of his nature.

As a natural result, we trace from the period of *beep* arrival at medina a marked and rapid declension in the system he inculcated. Intolerance quickly took the place of freedom; force, of persuasion. The spiritual weapons designed at first for higher objects were no sooner devoted to the purposes of temporal authority, than temporal authority was employed to give weight and temper to those spiritual weapons. The name of Almighty imparted a terrible strength to sword of the State; and the sword of State yielded a willing return by destroying “the enemies of God” and sacrificing them at the shrine of the new religion. “Slay the unbelievers wheresoever ye find them,” was now the watch word of *beep*. “Fight in the ways of God until opposition be crushed and the religion become the Lord’s alone.” The warm and simple devotion breathed by *beep* and his followers at Mecca, when mingled with worldly motives, soon became dull and vapid; while faith degenerated into a fierce fanaticism, or evaporated in a lifeless round of formal ceremonies.

The Merriam-Webster online dictionary defines contempt as the act of despising or having a lack of respect or reverence. This may include mockery, put-downs, hostile corrections, sarcasm, ridicule, and outright hostile joking. Sound familiar? If it does, you’re not alone. People sometimes resort to using contempt without even realizing it. The use of contempt during conflict is very common, and consequently, also very destructive.

In conflict, contempt is sometimes used as a way of defending oneself and/or exerting power over the other. It often stems from frustration with the opposing party and can ultimately lead to the destruction of the relationship. Many times people say the right words, but with an expression of contempt, the conflict inevitably leads to further destruction. It’s like the old saying, “It’s not what you said, it’s how you said it.” Ironically enough, it’s true. The manner in which you express yourself will ultimately determine the outcome of the conflict.

Various communication studies have shown that contempt is almost never present in a healthy relationship. Contempt is never justified in a long-term, important relationship. Think about your relationships. There are likely certain relationships in which you would never use contempt as a way of solving a problem. Think about why. You probably have too much respect for the other person and would never want to jeopardize the relationship by acting in a hostile and disrespectful manner.

One particular communication scholar referred to contempt as a part of the “four horseman of the apocalypse”, meaning that when this behavior (among others) “rides in” to the relationship, the end is near. Pretty scary, right? The same scholar defines contempt as any statement or nonverbal behavior that puts oneself on a higher plane than the other. Sounds harsh. And it is. The use of contempt can be vicious and hurtful.

Although this is an exaggerated and extreme case of using contempt, here’s an example of how contempt is often used to deal with conflict:

SuperBad Contempt

Hopefully through the process of learning to recognize these behaviors, you will be able to avoid such destructive conflicts. The way you behave during conflict is a choice yet to be made. So take this to heart, and avoid resorting to contempt. Express yourself clearly and constructively or face the consequences of destructive conflict.

I hope to entertain, vent, and be silly and sarcastic too. If this blog makes you actually think, well that’s up to you.  I’m stuck in upstate NY (NO, NOT Buffalo or Westchester..geeeez–iz keee-rist!) but 62 miles south of Montreal and you know what that means…staying indoors as much as possible during the winter…Maybe some big shot comedy writers will take note and give me a job. I am in no way someone who brags, but if one more of my friends tells me to write a book, they are cordially invited to go and get their shinebox….This is the best I can do for now…..xoxo Tamara

This time, just in time for Christmas, Jesus is appearing on a Massachusetts woman’s iron.

Nope- not seeing it.  But what it does signal is that, not to be outdone, Mary will be popping up on a Pop-Tart sometime quite soon.

It’s going great at the theatre workshop. And for once, I feel like I haven’t had this much fun with people while working and aiming to reach a certain target, in this case, being the plays wonderfully directed and acted by all of us.

The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, Luis Bunuel, I believe is fantastic. Having seen only the first scene though, I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that modern day surrealism doesn’t get better than this.

I love my part. I’m the Bourgeoisie brat. And it doesn’t get better than that. Snobbish, complaining about people’s incompetency and in a haste all the time. Also, the perks include dry martinis and smirking.

Wow, dry martinis and smirking xD xD

No, being a snob doesn’t get better than that !

x EdgyShark x

I’m writing this on the day after Thanksgiving, on a day when I have adopted the lifestyle of my cats and barely moved. My fiancée and I are recovering from a fantastic Thanksgiving dinner at her sister’s house in South Philadelphia with her immediate family, a few friends and my Aunt Rose.

Since our engagement, a reality show on TLC, Say Yes to the Dress, has become a staple on our television, through no choice of my own. In all fairness, she has put up with a healthy diet of sports, so what’s fair is fair. At least we agree on Cake Boss.

Bridezilla

I don’t know which surprises me more: The jaw-dropping price tags attached to just about every single item associated with weddings, or the piles of money brides-to-be and their families are willing to shell out for things that will be used once. Example: a veil, which is barely one square yard of fabric that will be worn for less than one hour, costs $600. Are you serious?

My proposed reality show is an answer to Say Yes to the Dress, but it’s only directed at the spoiled-brat-type brides found on another reality TV disaster, WE tv’s Bridezillas.

In my reality show, the worst, bitchy, spoiled, high-maintenance, demanding brides-to-be will shop at a high-end bridal salon modeled after the establishment behind Say Yes to the Dress, Kleinfeld Bridal. Rather than trying to establish some base of reason, their family and friends, along with the staff of the store, will cater to their every whim and let them think they’re getting everything they want.

Then, just when the princess thinks she’s completely gotten her way, the star of the show emerges. I have two people in mind: Chris Rock, or Damon Wayans in character as Homey D. Clown from classic 1990s Fox comedy-sketch series In Living Color. The star then proceeds to berate the princess, while the audience (myself in particular) cackles themselves into a frenzy.

Example: “$15,000 for a DRESS? Does it have WHEELS? Are you out your MIND? And you gonna spend $600 on a veil to cover yo grill when that could feed an entire grade at the school down the block? What in the HELL is wrong with you? What part of BUDGET don’t you understand? You must be OUT yo GOD-DAMNED MIND!”

The name of my reality pilot (drum roll please …): Say No to the Ho. I have to go now. Pitching this to the cable networks will take time.

[LINK]

It’s true! The “most insidiousness socialist brainwashing program” is in fact brainwashing kids! It openly expresses socialist values (like sharing) and builds up false hopes in children for a bright future. It generalizes the core values of marriage and pokes fun at upstanding institutions like FOX News, which only wants to bring you the truth in an unbiased news media format for the whole family. Don’t let your kids watch it! Sure they’ll learn the alphabet, but they’ll also pick up faciast values in the subliminal messaging of Snuffaluffagus. You’re better off plopping your kids in front of Spongebob where they can learn words like “ding-a-ling” and watch a pastey pink star fish run around naked.

Some one should do something!

I know some of you will be shopping soon for the little ones in your life, so here are some gift ideas I’m sure you’ll want to get them…

How to Tell if Someone Is Being Sarcastic
If you’re tired of not being able to tell if someone is sarcastic, then you’ve come to the right place.

Find the steps, tips and warnings at http://www.wikihow.com/

I am buying a fucking egg genie.

I don’t even know what this thing does.  If I had to guess…i’d say it allows you to grow baby chicks from everyday store bought eggs.  

But that’s not the reason to buy it…the reason is that you also get the Bacon Wake….nice play on words…i feel like pot heads everywhere will buy this the second they hear the name…as long as they get the energy to reach into their pocket for their phone.  It just basically lets you make bacon in the microwave.

Is there more…of corse there’s more you fucking moron.  The Magic Chop!  Its the same thing as the Slap Chop but it is significantly less able to defend you from prostitutes.

This product IS Eggsactly what i’m looking for!

So after starting speaking the praise of the egg genie i decided to watch this full commercial…the one i posted here doesn’t include the magic chop like the one on TV does.  I’m ok with the Egg Genie…but I like how they try to tell you a great feature is the loud blaring alarm telling you your eggs are ready.  ”Scare the shit out of your kids and family when they run for their lives when the eggs are ready.”  Then it just shows the dad shaking his head after he yelled fire and his whole family runs through the front door.  ”Now i can finally have my eggs!”  says dad and then it fades to black.  

Although this system is a bit annoying…wouldn’t it be great for couples trying to get pregnant….

“are you tired of the tricky rhythm method!?!?” (shows a couple fumbling over a calendar…and throwing it across the room)

“are you actually gay…a vagina disgusts you so you want to limit sex needed to have a child?”  (shows a gay guy poking at a vagina saying ICK!)

“is your partner awful at sex so you need the highest success rate possible?”  (girl yawning whilst banging)

WELL DO WE HAVE THE PRODUCT FOR YOU!

Eggs Ovary Easy!!!  Never miss the fertile period of the month with Eggs Ovary Easy!!!  (name would be trademarked with the exclamation marks). Eggs Ovary Easy!!! nestles comfortably in the vagina and gives you a gentle reminder when its time to fuck!  (then it shows the air raid siren sounding and the couple rushes up to the bedroom).  

Eggs Ovary Easy!!! extending the life of otherwised doomed relationships with the glorious gift of a child.

…Fucking pay me.

NEXT!

PETA is claiming that turkeys are tortured around thanksgiving.  I envision PETA members called to a meeting where they have elementary school artistic skills which they have used to render this house of horrors for turkeys.  Where they are put on “the rack” and have their feathers pulled one by one before being forced to pick which one of their turkey family members is the next to go…because we all know torture makes turkey taste better.

Yeah..fuck you PETA..I doubt Purdue sounds the alarm, and stops the assembly line because a turkey may have been about to be slaughtered before significant amounts of torture were endured..and then Will Purdue (not the owner of Purdue chicken…Will Purdue the ex-NBA player) dons his executioner hood and tortures the skipped turkey before resuming operations. Shut up PETA…I’m gonna donate a bunch of BOCA burgers to you fairies and it will be frozen Veal patties and you’ll all off yourselves after accidently ingesting them.

NEXT!

Obama just went over to China to talk about internet censorship but now Goggle has pulled a racist image of Michelle Obama off the internet?  Hmm…sounds a little hypocritical.  I think it would say a TON if he publicly rejected the fact that it had been pulled.  Though…it probably wouldn’t win much points with Segourney (those that follow my blog already know that Michelle Obama is black Sigourney Weaver)

NEXT!

Adam Lambert is a copy cat…He’s copied Janet and Justin,  as well as Brittney and Madonna by engaging in an act to solely create publicity…and guess what that shit worked again.  And now he’s copying Charles Barkley (His famous “I’m not a role model commercial”)?  ”I’m a performer…not a babysitter”  we’ll see..lets not get ahead of ourselves here…i give you about a year…and you will in fact be a babysitter.  Though, you might be a decent one…teaching young girls how to pull off the “smoky” makeup look.

NEXT!

fucking bed time…another long day at work…followed by lack of sleep…followed by long day at work….

But on a happier note….HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO EVERYONE!

This is an oldy moldy stale post from a million years ago (July/Augst 2009) but since this page is looking pretty empty, I’ll just repost it.

Warning -you might only find it funny if you’ve actually ever been to Pakistan (or surrounding countries).

COLLEGE HUNTING IN PAKISTAN

Well, it’s late July/early August, which means that colleges are opening applications, currently accepting, or nearing their deadlines (yikes!). So what does our neighborhood-friendly DelusionedGrandeur (who graduated from high school in June) decide to do instead of lazing around all day? Yup, go college-hunting in Pakistan…but just the art schools. (Sorry to any of you who were expecting a review on any other type of college).
To start, I spent days, weeks, even minutes laboring over an extensive and thorough list of good art colleges in Lahore that were close enough to my house. This is the end result:

1. Pakistan Institute of Fashion and Design (PIFD)
2. Beaconhouse University (BNU)
3. National College of Arts (NCA)

Yes, that is the laborious product of my brain power. Moving on…

First we hit up PIFD, since it was closest and my young aunt (mother’s cousin) wanted to check it out as well. Apparently they’re constructing a new campus in dire need of a paint job (right now it just looks like concrete and some lone ceiling fans – are they going to be done in time for the new students?!)

Although their main buildings which I assume they’re going to be holding classes in are still under construction, their main office was nice and neat, and gave us plenty of information. As far as I know, PIFD is currently offering BA’s in Fashion/Design, Fashion Marketing, Jewelry/Gems, and Textiles. Very nice, but not for me. No courses in film? Okthanksbyebyenow.

BNU was next on our list (yes, we are obviously going in alphabetical order) which is rumored to be a pretty good school despite it being a newbie college. (Plus, their film courses are thought to be great).

Finding the school wasn’t exactly easy, especially since my other aunt (mom’s other cousin) didn’t pick up the phone when we called to ask where BNU was. But, since we’re not men, we were brave enough to ask for directions from random people on the street (a few officers, a few college reps, and one vaguely lost old man who claimed he “wasn’t from around here”).

One way or another, we were finally lead to the general direction of BNU, seeing different signs that read “BNU —>” Driving, driving driving, yes finally! A big sign that reads “BNU Estates”…correct me if I’m mistaken, but isn’t BNU supposed to be a college? Yes it is, the guard reassured us, but it might be closed right now. Whatever, Mr. Guard, we’re on our way!
Here’s the first sign that BNU doesn’t exactly know what they’re doing. New college can easily translate into underdeveloped and over-advertised. Which is exactly what BNU is. All you see stretched ahead of you after passing the gate is overgrown pastures of weeds and a skinny dirt road. Weird at first, but annoying as time passed, we finally reached two giant black gates which “BNU” in silver letters. This has gotta be it! Such a massive, pretty gate must mean they mean business! Nononono, the gate is closed, an old man working on the other side of the gate tells us, you have to go around the back.

What? Ok, fine – anything to get some freaking information about this place. We do a 180 and drive around until we finally find the road leading to the back of BNU. Hey, guess what? IT’S EVEN WORSE THAN THE FRONT ROAD. I have no idea how the hell students will even get to the college in time for class. Nothing but miles of this little narrow, bumpy dirt road, dried up rice paddy fields, and pregnant cows running all over the place. I’ll be surprised if prospective students can suffer driving through this everyday until BNU decides to build a proper road.

At least we made it alive, right? Let’s ask the BNU reps about their courses and curriculum. Of course, only after they get an earful from my excited mother, who hate nothing more than crazy roads and bad drivers (not that there were any – we only saw one other car during this whole mess). As it turns out, the reps don’t even know what they’re talking about…so of course we storm out, pissed, and I still don’t have any information on the film courses – not that it matters. I am not wiping the pounds of dirt and dust of the car everyday if I went to BNU. But if you’re an over-the-top optimist, you could say your daily commute to BNU is like a free mud facial, courtesy of the college.

NCA was the last place on our list (we were considering Canaid first, but I heard their reputation is going down the pooper since they’ll accept anyone who can pay). I was pretty excited about NCA since old-ass colleges usually have a good reputation and better teachers. Unfortunately, NCA really needs to clean up their old-ass college. (Is that graffiti on the stairs an art project? Very impressive). Although this worried me a little bit, it did not stop my hunt for a copy of their film curriculum!

We head over to the main office, to ask about the entrance test, fees, blablabla, oh, and where can I get some info on your Film & T.V. courses? In the media-arts building? Duh, silly me – where is it? The Italian-style building? Um, thanks (I said I was in film, not architecture – please excuse me for not being able to recognize an Italian-style building).

Upon entering the colossal Italian-style building (I still can’t tell the difference) we ask the people on each floor if this is film. No sorry, this is photography – film is on the fifth floor. (FIFTH?! If I get in, at least I’ll lose some weight). Huffing and puffing up to fifth, we finally reach the film floor. Mission accomplished, I think as I look over NCA’s courses for a BA in Film. Ok, first two years seem to be nothing but basics, documentaries, and crappy Pakistani dramas (believe it or not, ‘Docu-Drama’ was actually written as a description for one of the courses in second year).

Yeeeaaah, not really for me – what’s my last choice? Take a gap year and study in one of the many art institutes in the states (preferably in San Francisco, Chicago, or New York)? Yeah right – who’s paying for a room and board? (Maybe I oughta rob a bank…it’s can’t be thaaat hard…)

Until next time, I leave you with these parting words on college-hunting (which everyone most likely knows already) – KNOW WHAT YOU WANT, NOT WHAT SOMEONE PUSHES YOU TOWARDS, BEFORE YOU APPLY AND GET STUCK IN DEEP LEFT FIELD.

Today, we celebrate Thanksgiving.  Thanksgiving- a holiday which we’re told was initially celebrated by the Pilgrims and the Indians to give thanks for bountiful harvests.  Today, Thanksgiving is typically a celebration with friends and family where we stuff ourselves full of turkey and other delicious food till we’re in a food coma.  Damn that tryptophan.  Those still awake watch football or plan where they’re going for the Black Friday deals.

Over the last few days, I’ve been contemplating and reflecting over the things that I am thankful for this year.  Some times sarcasm creeps– what can you be thankful for when your world is turned upside down and you’ve lived through the darkest, loneliest, saddest times you’ve ever been through.  I’ve then given myself a mental pep talk.  After several days of  thinking, I’ve found some light in the darkness.

Basically 2009 has just plain sucked since February.  Life was so good before February- I had a husband whom I loved dearly and we were such a happy family with our new son.  Everybody was healthy.  Life was good.

Then along came February and the stage IV diagnosis, followed by our fight and culminating in our lost battle.

But through it all there are things to be thankful for.

Nathaniel.  I have a wonderful easy going delightful son.  He is a pleasure to be around and his growth and development is nothing short of amazing to witness.

John got to be a father and he was a great one.  Some men never have the opportunity to become fathers.  Of the ones that do, not all of them are great.  John enjoyed fatherhood as much as he physically could through his illness.  Mentally it gave him a reason to fight and a reason to live that stretched beyond self.  John loved his boy so much.  He told me that Nathaniel’s laughter was his most favorite sound.

I had a great marriage and was married to a wonderful man.  I’ve been able to experience true love.  There are lots of people who can’t say that.  I have enough wonderful memories to hopefully last a lifetime.

John’s illness has taught me to stand up for what is right and to fight for those you love and to pick up the pieces and carry on.  The Mary of years past, wouldn’t have stood up to the well known and credentialed doctor and told him that we weren’t done fighting and if he was, then he could be forever referred to by name as “the doctor that gave up on daddy and the doctor who let daddy die.”  The doctors and nurses have other patients and rooms to visit.  The patient has one life.  Sometimes you have to stand up for those you love and insist on the best treatment for your loved one.  In the end maybe the outcome isn’t the most important thing, but rather how you life the life you have and the memories that you leave.  We’ve all been born and we’ll all die… really it’s the parts in the middle that we need to really make count!

John’s death has left me with a hole in my heart- grief, heartache, and loneliness like nothing else I’ve ever experienced.  But, I’m getting through it… not over it, but through it.  Some days are like walking through a nice grassy meadow with the sun warmly shining.  Others are like fighting my way through thick mud and slipping, sliding, falling, and getting up and pushing on.  The sun rises.  The sun sets.  Life goes on.  If I choose to live life or not, it still continues- better to enjoy it while I can.  Nathaniel, the horses, and the cats have kept me going.  They all need me and they all love me.  I’m working or re-building my life.  It won’t ever be the same or the happy home and strong fortress that it was with the three of us, but we’re making it.  It’s not always easy, it’s not always pretty, and it certainly isn’t always clean, but we’re making it…. one day at a time.  Life goes on.  We never know how short or long our life will be.  To me it only makes sense to enjoy it to it’s fullest and be happy as best you can.

For some reason, John’s death has chilled me out more and I don’t usually get upset over the little stuff.  In the end, the little things don’t matter.  It’s the big picture.  I just want to relax and enjoy simple pleasures- hug my kid, ride my horses, take a walk, pet the critters, and just enjoy life.  I’m very fortunate that I can do all of those things without even leaving Leaky Creek!  I love my farm, my house, my horses, my cats, and my son.  I truly feel like there is something else out there beyond our realm.  I do think that John has given me signs.  It’s reassuring and gives me an inner peace that I need.  Attending church has been helpful.  I used to fear dying terribly.  After I held John’s hand as he died, my fear left.  Someday, I’m sure we’ll be together again… as long as he doesn’t hook up with some hot angel in the meantime…

Annapolis Fire Department.  They were absolutely amazing during John’s illness and they (along with Community Fire Company of Rising Sun) made his funeral a fitting tribute to a wonderful man and amazing firefighter.  AFD did so many wonderful things that I know I can’t mention all of them.  They covered John’s shifts, so he received full pay.  They allowed him to retire on disability.  They came to visit him in the hospital and were there for his 2nd round of IL2 treatments at 6 AM & 10 PM.  They transformed our half bath into full bath with a shower that John could use.  Sometimes when you’re sick… the ability to get clean just means so much.  Sadly, John was only able to use his shower a few times, but it was very much appreciated!    AFD built a ramp, so we could get the wheelchair in and out easily.  They mowed our grass and did assorted maintenance jobs.  They went with us to many doctor’s visits so I didn’t have to worry about driving on little sleep or in unpredictable traffic.  They sent meals.  They held a fundraiser in Annapolis.  They participated in Team Smitty for the LiveStrong Challenge.  In, short, they took care of their brother.  John truly worked for a topnotch organization.  He loved working there and they loved him, too.  I miss them.

I’m thankful to the wonderful medical personnel that we encountered… from the friendly, familiar faces on the ambulance, to the caring hospital nurses, to our beloved home health nurses, and every smiling caring face in between.

I am thankful to the friends and family who have supported us and were there for John, Nathaniel, and myself.  During times of crisis, you find out who your true friends are.  Sometimes they are who you think they are… sometimes they’re different people.  I  have been very fortunate that no matter how alone I feel, I am not without friends to support me.  Some friendships have strengthened and I’ve even found new friends.  A simple phone call can make all the difference in the world.  Many people have also helped me out with everything from mowing grass, to checking car brakes, to babysitting, to installing ceiling fans, to watching Nathaniel while I got some equine therapy… and just being there when I needed to talk, needed a hug, or needed a shoulder to cry on.  This Thanksgiving, I’ve received so many invitations- thanks to everybody who thought about my boy and me and knew that we might not have a place to go.

I also have the world’s best babysitter.  I can’t tell you how amazing she has been with my son and how much I enjoy and value her friendship.  We’ve known each other since elementary school, but had lost touch through the years.  Facebook re-united us and I consider her to be one of my best friends, now.  We share conversations, hugs, and tears.  There is nothing like having the piece of mind that my son is being cared for as if her were part of her family.  Nathaniel helped carve his first pumpkin and made his first art project with them.  Her daughter is like a sister to him.  Nathaniel adores her husband and I think it is important for Nathaniel to  have a good male role model in his life.  I can go to work and have no concerns and no worries… to quote the credit card commercials.. “Peace of mind– priceless.”   I know John would approve.

I also hope that I can do some things in memory of John to help fight melanoma and fight cancer.  I don’t want his death to be in vain.  Skin cancer can kill.  We need more melanoma awareness and much, much more research.  I’d love to do a memorial bike ride, since he loved to cycle.

So, even in what has been the worst year in my 34 year life, there are things to be thankful for.  Happy Thanksgiving everybody.  Hug your spouse.  Hug your kid(s).  Pet the critters.  Eat up and watch some football.  And if you get a chance before the food coma sets in take at least a brief moment to remember what you’re thankful for.

This is a hip hop scratch track.  It was made on a mobile sampler in the back of a van.  The sample is from Fela Kuti.  Loved Fela’s politics, but then again, I also have the benefit of being male.  I wonder what his mom would think.

I think I’m confused. So in order to become rich, I just have to go out and find some workers to hire and adequately manage? Anyone at all? I could do that!

Chris Tilling and I are putting this one together in the hopes that we can reach that very narrow group of people yet un-unit-ized at the Annual Meeting.  Contact either of us if you would like to be on the Steering Committee.

Our Unit title will be

The Emasculated Feminine: A Subaltern Reading of the Hermeneutics of Chinese and African Feminism Vis-a-Vis A Gay Liminal Understanding of Beastiality and Transgendered Hippos, Cats, Chickens, and Goats.

Our special and specific focus will be a synchronic and diachronic reading of those materials wherein are found the substrata of the emasculated feminine.

Again, if you would like to take part, drop one of us a note.

All aboard the Express train to Hatesville.

While you are all enjoying your pumpkin pie this week i’ll be sort of enjoying pie too…only difference is mine is a tasty little number called bowling ball pie and its headed repeatedly for my head.  

All i see are Facebook statuses “SHORT WEEK!”  ”Can’t wait for the early weekend to start”  ”Thanksgiving”  ”im better than you because i don’t work retail”…Ok maybe not the last one…but the other ones…and while your joy over the short week is justified…it sucks when i know i’m working until saturday.  And that my store is closed 3 days a year and closes early 4…and i’ll be working all but christmas day. So while all of you are getting drunk…or watching football…or spending time with your family…or some possibility i can’t even imagine because i haven’t experienced a family holiday in almost 4 years…..I’ll be chucking freight…and stocking shelves so on friday you can get up on your next fucking day off and participate in great holiday deals….that i wont even get a chance to partake in.  Its kind of a slap in the face to stock everything at these great prices and then be told you can’t buy any because you weren’t in line….”well yeah i wasn’t in line because i was fucking working”.  So i’ll get to deal with the Tyson’s Corner traffic on black friday…but even if i came straight from work i’d miss out on all the deals.

Enjoy your tryptophan fuckers…i’ll be sleeping during the day too…but it isn’t a great nap..its what i do because i work fucking overnight.

If one more person asks me what i’m doing for Thanksgiving i’m just gonna punch them in the face…Multiple reasons. 1) it reminds me i’m doing nothing…because i cant 2) i don’t want the pity….its just a fact that i’m not doing anything…. 3) i am tired of trying to come up with a decent way to spin it so its not too awkward while having this conversation with the person.

OK enough of this live journal sounding shit…end of that rant…on to other random topics..
 

So anyways…who the fuck cares about Adam Lambert….What the fuck is so shocking about a gay guy kissing a dude…i’m pretty sure that’s what they are supposed to do.  I just though…eh…damn he sure did over act the shit out of that brief dude make-out session.  What would have shocked me is if he made out with a chick…or was able to touch one of the female dancers in a way that DIDNT look completely unnatural.   I had never heard of this guy and as i was flipping through the channels i came across what looked like it was a ridiculous performance.  And boy it didn’t disappoint…the guy can’t sing first off…he just screams a bunch…makes out with dudes and prances across the stage.  The only reason people should have been shocked was at the fact that he actually was invited to perform at this show.

A bonus from all of this…i’ve been trying out Adam Lambert references whenever possible.  So like when Pox and Ant had a Mother/Son wine drinking night yesterday I said i needed to go ahead and put a rush order in for their Adam Lambert CDs

And when go with the flow complained about his ankle…i thought…one more  complaint and he’s getting floor seats to the next Adam Lambert concert….So i know that this is going to pass soon…so there is limited time to beat this dead horse of a topic.

Speaking of “beating a dead horse” that statement is never actually meant.  See whenever someone says “I don’t mean to beat a dead horse”  what they really mean is “i don’t mean to beat a dead horse…but i’m about to pummel the shit outta one”

I think women were made physically weak as a safety precaution…or like a fuse….or irons that automatically turn off when you leave them plugged in.  

See they can snap all they want but without getting through a waiting period for a gun only so much can be done. And this is because when women come into existence…the second they are in the womb the body recognizes….”wow this is an irrational potential human…better add some security measures”.  

Check out Them Crooked Vultures…best CD i’ve heard in a while…

As a kid, I thoroughly enjoyed watching Disney cartoons and movies on VHS. I never liked the movie Fantasia and was sort of ambivalent towards The Jungle Book.  One of my favorites, shamefully was Aladdin because I thought that Robin Williams was so funny as the Genie (and I still do). But, per usual, my intellectual growth through my academic studies always seems to ruin my childhood joys. On the DVD version of Aladdin, Disney editted the opening song that has the line, “Where they cut off your ear if they don’t like your face.”  Who would have a problem with that?   Jim Crow was my favorite character from Dumbo.  A Black Crow named Jim, during the time of segregation, when anti-lynching laws were voted down by Congress. Zippity Doo-Dah, Zippity Ay, Wonderful Feeling, Feeling this Way! I am still looking for a copy of the Disney’s totallyliberal progressive anti-racist propaganda, Song of The South. I feel so frustrated trying to find a movie about the good old days that Black people had after the Civil War. With all their whistling and talking to animals!

I am sooooooooooo excited about Disney’s The Frog Princess.  Just leave it to Old Walt Disney to join the struggle for civil rights.

[Disclaimer: The author of this post is indeed responsible for the sarcasm in this article]

The ’shtreimel’ battle

The shtreimel, or traditional fur hat, preferred by hassidic movements originating in Galicia, Hungary and Romania, might become a difficult item to obtain if animal rights activists have their way.

MK Menahem Eliezer Moses of United Torah Judaism.
Photo: Ariel Jerozolimski [file]

Haredi legislators aggressively attacked a bill proposed by MK Ronit Tirosh (Kadima) and backed by animal rights groups that would prohibit the import of animal furs from the Far East, including China.

The animal rights activists are concerned that countries in the Far East are unnecessarily cruel to the animals.

However, United Torah Judaism MK Menahem Eliezer Moses opposed the bill, which came up for discussion in the Knesset Education Committee.

Moses argued that the proposed legislation would hurt haredim who had a custom of wearing the fur hats on Shabbat and holidays.

“We will never change our traditional dress as a result of this law,” said Moses in a press release.

“There is no doubt that cruelty to animals is prohibited by the Torah. But throughout the generations Jews wore shtreimels,” Moses said.

Shas MK Haim Amsalem said Jewish law permitted causing pain to animals if there were a human need, as long as unnecessary pain was avoided.

Due to Moses’s and Amsalem’s opposition, as well the opposition of the Agriculture Ministry for economic reasons, the vote on the bill was postponed.

 

 

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