Geoffrey sent me this link, and it’s damned amusing. Not that I encourage or condone such behavior, but there’s more than a small ring of truth to it. (I also like this lady’s views on the subject of modifying one’s body and how the femi-nazis are idiots regarding that topic.)
But my reaction to the “Guide” post was basically this…
I wouldn’t bother with most of those tactics, because if I was stupid enough to find myself in bed with someone that insensitive & boorish, I’d just dump his ass as soon as I figured out what a shithead he was!
It takes two to tango, as they say, and it takes two for victimization, as well.
Earlier Wednesday evening, I was crocheting on the loveseat, and noticed there was one sleeping kitty on the sofa (Zadya), one sleeping kitty on the corner of the loveseat’s back (Michiko), and one sleeping kitty almost right next to me on the other corner of the loveseat’s back (Hasani). “Neat!” I thought to myself. “I’m centered in a Bermuda Triangle of sleeping cats!”
And now for something completely TMI…
Anxiety can’t remember what made her think of it, but a few weeks ago she asked if we could institute a “curse can” — so that anyone (who lives here) caught cursing in our house has to deposit a quarter into an empty coffee can. Then we decided what words are no big deal, and which curse words will cost you. When enough money piles up, we’ll see a movie or go out for a nice dinner as a family (not that we want to encourage the money to pile up, mind you).
We have not agreed regarding the word “arse.” I say it’s a dirty word; Anxiety claims it’s not. She wants to get technical and say it’s not dirty in the USA. I say, English is English, regardless of whether it’s British or American English. After all, “fuck” is probably not a dirty word in many other languages, but it is in English! (She was amused recently to find out that “pissed” means something different in the UK, and promptly set about using it the British way…at every available opportunity.)
A day or two after we set up the curse can, she pre-paid $5 so she could say 20 dirty words without getting into trouble. Therefore, we had to ban pre-payment. (So now, she stands next to the curse can with money in hand, and deposits the payment immediately after cursing. We’ve got to come up with a solution to this. I think it breaks the spirit of the rule, even if it maintains the letter of the law.)
We also agreed that the rules for the car were slightly modified. I don’t think I’m capable of driving without cursing. I inherited this from my mother; when Anxiety was up in Washington, visiting my mother, she sent me a text message on my cell phone that said, “Grandma just said ‘cocksucker’!”
You can imagine how much that thrilled me.
In other news, some people are still whining about Pluto’s demotion from planetary status. All I have to say to that is:
This is all Mari’s fault. Just like last time. *grin*
Go to Google and type in “$Name looks like” with the quotation marks (where your name = $Name), and put the top 10 things that come up. (My comments in parentheses, and I skipped the responses interrupted by punctuation, such as: “Right you are, Lil. Looks like it’s been painted though”.)
*Lil looks like Amy Lee of Evanescence on the ‘Fallen’ cover (Nope. Sadly.)
*Lil looks like my stepsister Pepper did (Vaguely funny, given my last name.)
*Crazy Lil’s looks like a really fun bar (In Baltimore. I’ll have to check it out if I’m ever there.)
*Lil looks like a pirate (Nope. Not even when I try to.)
*Lil Looks Like Your New Girl Can’t Hack It (Uh, I don’t think this even makes sense.)
*lil looks like too much hard work for the mods (And I have no idea what this means.)
*Lil looks like one of the characters in Animal Crossing (Again, no clue.)
*Lil looks like a Family Guy character, really. (Please say it isn’t so!)
*Lil looks like he is ready to fly, but doesn’t want to venture out. (There’s a country-western song here somewhere.)
*Lil looks like she’s about to have a panick attack. (No way. I never have those anymore. I think it has something to do with valuing myself enough that I no longer allow others to diminish me!)
I don’t normally watch much in the way of TV news (it’s depressing, and largely futile repetition of the same pathetic conflicts from a few years — or centuries — ago, which erodes my faith in humanity), but occasionally if I’m crocheting and nothing else is on the TV, I’ll watch CNN’s Headline News or the local Channel 2 News (because they have the least-annoying anchorpeople).
Sometimes the news stations have their priorities entirely fuckered-up, as recognized by this little gem from InternetBumperStickers:
Hi, anyone who saw the “press conference” in Thailand of John Mark Karr and didn’t realize he was a total poseur, go to the end of the line (and for the sake of us all, please, never serve on jury duty…and try not to breed, either). He’s a sicko, sure, but his claims that he was there when JonBenet died were obviously pure fantasy from the get-go. Read a few more Ann Rule books and get a clue as to how actual sociopathic murderers think & behave. (Just don’t make it a personal hobby. *smirk*)
And the other big story in the news lately:
For some reason, apparently a great many people are upset that Pluto is no longer designated as a planet. Why, in the name of little green apples, does this matter to them?! I’m not talking about astronomers (amateur or professional), but everyday people who can barely recall the order of the planets in our solar system. The only virtue of calling Pluto a “planet” would have been that we’d get another few “planets” added to the roster. Alas, the icy dwarf popularly known as Xena will not become a planet.
Going to a Halloween party dressed as “icy dwarf Xena” just does NOT have the same pizazz as going dressed as “planet Xena.”
Look, they made a cartoon for my kids!
It’s just not right. In so many ways.
Trying to leave Portland on the freeway during the lunch hour may not have been the brightest idea. I had thought it would be ideal — miss the morning rush hour of suburbanites entering the city for the workday, plus the evening mass exodus from Portland. Not to mention the stupid Critical Mass deliberately-induced bicycle traffic jam, which supposedly commemorated the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina.
And now for something completely TMI…
Got to hang out a bit with my Number One Internet Fanboy tonight; I made “breakfast dinner” of French toast & scrambled eggs, and then we watched some funny stuff on the TV (and Internet) before I drove him home. Normally there would be pouncy fun, but I was feeling blechy (which bloomed into headachy a bit later). Still, Karel was wearing slacks instead of jeans — I think I knew him for 3 or 4 years before I ever saw him wear non-denim pants! — and I let him know I liked them. “They’re not as thick as jeans, so much nicer through which to fondle you,” I said (or words to that effect). He assured me that my fondling happiness was definitely something he wanted to maintain. Yay!
Some of what we watched was this very silly music video, which is mind-boggling enough to distract you from realizing the song is really quite decent. I mean, I’d pay 99 cents for it on iTunes — and I hate spending money on iTunes! (If you haven’t previously heard of this group, they’re called OK Go. The TV informed me that I’m pop-culture deficient, as I hadn’t heard of the band before.)
And lastly tonight, but certainly not leastly, here’s a great post about a few very sensible ideas regarding your sex life. Anybody’s sex life, actually!
You know a horror flick is less than impressive when you never get a really decent look at the monster, and the song they play during the end credits actually makes you wonder how such a nifty song got tacked onto such a mediocre movie.
Geoffrey & I watched The Cave. I assure you, I was far more scared by the concept of “cave divers,” and what could go wrong in that profession, than I ever was by the mutant monsters in the flick! It was one of those movies where you (and anyone watching with you) start taking bets on which character will die next, and who the survivors will be at the end. Not that you really care, but at least it gives you something to do during the slow parts of the movie…and that would be most of the movie, really. Honestly, besides the afore- (and below-) mentioned song, the most interesting part of the movie was the quote that one of every 14 cave divers dies each year. Again, much scarier thought than anything else in the movie.
The song at the end, which prompted Geoffrey & I to Google the band, was Nemo by Nightwish (a “symphonic metal” band — ooooh, doesn’t that sound yummy?!). We even listened to a few samples from the website, which ranged from “interesting” to damned good.
Of course, I would discover a band from freaking Finland, so I can’t understand the lyrics of any song they write in their native tongue. A band which fired their lead singer last year and hasn’t found a replacement yet. A band which is unlikely to be touring the US even if they get a replacement lead singer. A band that probably nobody I know has ever heard of, and the music of which I’ll almost certainly have to buy online because no music store in the state will carry their CDs.
