Withdrawal

Currently suffering from computer / internet withdrawal. I have been temporarily delayed in the fine art of blogging due to my fucking hard drive problems. I will be back shortly when I have replaced and smashed my Maxtor HD into tiny, tiny pieces.

Too Drunk to Fuck...or Breathe

My mom sent me these photos. I think it was entitled: 12 Signs You Have Had Too Much To Drink. I'm going to change the title to: Some of the Funniest Photos I Have Ever Seen...I know, doesn't have the same ring, but who gives a shit.








* Note to self - never, ever, under ANY circumstances pass out drunk around friends again.

Still Life

This is a bit of a test. I am a read-a-holic and I've been meaning to update my reading list but have yet to find the time / energy / patience/ inner drive. As I dislike spoilers, particularly where books are concerned, I've decided that rather than rant and rave about each book's contents I will be briefly ambiguous in my blurbs.

I read this book for numerous reasons: I've read it about 10 times before so I know how wonderful it is, Tom Robbins rocks my world, the fuzzy peach fish and the one-eyed trouser snake, I own it (until some miscreant borrowed it from me and neglected to return it), and, most importantly, I'm a princess searching for an outlaw...or maybe, considering how much I find non-gender conforming behaviour attractive, I'm an outlaw searching for my princess.

My advice? Read it, buy it, sleep with it, eat it, be it.

Sleep deprivation and the root of all evil

Last night I finally returned to my home sweet home to discover sleep was no longer and option. By 5:30 am I decided to play with light. Here is the filmy residue that was rudely left behind by my insomniac's insanity:



I did give me an opportunity to fool around with my camera in a lightless environment. So, so, SO not worth it.

Voices in my head tell me so

Geez, I wish somebody had the foresight to provide me with this precious gem of advice when I was younger.

Jesus loves me but...

Fucking Bible-thumpers woke me up this morning. Can you believe that? Way the fuck out here. Grrrr. Nothing like JWs after four hours sleep. Totally lame. When I told him I wasn't interested he confirmed that seemed to be the 'general consensus' here. He then had the audacity to ask why. What, am I suddenly the half dead / half asleep spokesperson for the general public in the Kootenays?

I replied: "I do not believe in organized religion and I've met a lot of hypocrites." Chalk up Jehovah's Witness one, me zero for that weak response. I wanted to get into the real reasonss but the fucker tricked me with his flashy dress clothes and his nefarious use of a cute little boy with him to deflect all flamer-based attention. As I rudely closed my door in his face, he sneakily threw out a "You know what is good? Reading the Bible" at me. Reading the Bible? Buddy, I can think of a shit load of things that I would consider 'good' that top that...and at least two that don't involved sex.

Had I been more awake, I'm sure I could have delved into many reasons why I do not believe and refuse to follow Christianity or any derivative thereof:

• I have many tattoos and piercings, therefore, have already spit in God's face for desecrating his image
• The Bible is a good story...most Christians would scoff at Scientologists for following some random book written by some random guy that led to particular ridiculous lifestyle choices...silly Christians - can you say "I'm a huge ass hypocrite?"
• I've studied the historical inception of Christianity and there have been two Genesis stories written about 500 years apart from each other. In the original story, woman and man (Eve and Adam) were created together, equally, and at the same time out of dust from the Earth. In the later version (the one fully promoted today), Adam was created first (thus sealing his arrogant supremacy over woman) and then Eve was created out of his rib (enslaving woman for all time to be dominated by males). What a fucking treat that was to us. Suddenly the demanded subservience of women for the rest of time is rationally justified by men! Bite me you Bible freaks.
• I have zero tolerance for any ideology that promotes belittling and ostracizing others that don't blindly hold the same belief structure. While many Christians would deny that is the case, how many other religions have become the support system for extremist, white supremacists? Jesus was Jewish you fucking morons. Do you think your religion is actually fostering a sense of community with its blackmailing tactics? If I don't follow it I will burn forever in the depths of Hell? Where is the unconditional love in that method of thinking.
• Christianity led to the self-congratulating, self-promoting, lets all pat each other on the fucking backs for being so cool, glorified snuff film Passions of the Christ which is as scary as this - the Road Warrior was cool - Bible beating, Christian supremacy rationalizing Passions is just fucking disturbing.
  
• Finally, the most personal by far deals with my best friend in high school. His father was known by the entire town to be an upstanding, faithful Christian. He was the head of the RCMP (those puffy pants wearing, bell-hop outfitted, horse riding cowboys with the funny hats that enforce some form of the law here in Canada) and performed good Christian acts while he lived in this wee town of 35 000 people. At home, he would tie his son to a chair and beat him until he was unconscious while he was drunk on confiscated moonshine some of the locals would make and he would tag as evidence and then bring home for his own personal stash (with the evidence tags still on). I realize this is one measly example of a good Christian gone bad, but get real...how many other hypocritical pedophile priests do you need before you realize your religion is based on and supports the reinforcement of lies?

Get a life...eschew Christianity today!

Ahh, the tangled reno web we weave

This is in direct response to a post by mi amigo Captain Sexy Pants.




And you thought your bathroom was a mess!



I know, its hot. And so in a galaxy far, far away the renovation saga continues.....

Bite me Blogthings

I was fucking around with various blogthings and finally came to a couple that were too absurd to not promote:
The what rejected crayon are you
You know, because it is something I have always wanted to know...who the hell thinks of these things? This was the response I was given...how did they find out? Freaky how accurate that was.



And this fucked up fortune cookie generator
A useless crappy fortune says what? Oh, ya here it is:
Baseball got it all wrong � man with four balls cannot walk.

Hmm, did baseball get it all wrong? Shit there goes all my life plans that were intrinsically tied with baseball. How will I ever survive?

I decided to give the fortune one more shot and was amply rewarded with some deep thoughts:
Better to be pissed off than pissed on

I'm thinking of changing my blog title to reflect this tidbit of wisdom.

Life and other absurdities

You ever have days where you wake up feeling like this?

Sylvia - you prickly pear

By Candlelight

This is winter, this is night, small love -- A sort of black horsehair, A rough, dumb country stuff Steeled with the sheen Of what green stars can make it to our gate. I hold you on my arm. It is very late. The dull bells tongue the hour. The mirror floats us at one candle power. This is the fluid in which we meet each other, This haloey radiance that seems to breathe And lets our shadows wither Only to blow Them huge again, violent giants on the wall. One match scratch makes you real. At first the candle will not bloom at all -- It snuffs its bud To almost nothing, to a dull blue dud. I hold my breath until you creak to life, Balled hedgehog, Small and cross. The yellow knife Grows tall. You clutch your bars. My singing makes you roar. I rock you like a boat Across the Indian carpet, the cold floor, While the brass man Kneels, back bent, as best he can Hefting his white pillar with the light That keeps the sky at bay, The sack of black! It is everywhere, tight, tight! He is yours, the little brassy Atlas -- Poor heirloom, all you have, At his heels a pile of five brass cannonballs, No child, no wife. Five balls! Five bright brass balls! To juggle with, my love, when the sky falls. Sylvia Plath

Tis the season to be jolly...or take a shotgun to those fucking singing deer heads.

As an advocate of non-materialistic lifestyles, my commune-originated, ex-hippy family opts to pass on Christmas gifts. This results in, for the most part, a less stressful holiday; however, we usually cheat and buy something small (i.e.: a few years ago we were limited to only thrift store items for each other or we have a minimal price cap). We have decided that Christmas should really be for kids, ergo, all the children in our immediate and extended family enjoy all the attention. I recommend everyone try this approach. It deflects the holiday focus from massive consumption to a more intimate family gathering. As long as you make if clear to everyone you are acquainted with that may consider buying you a gift, you are free to enjoy the ridiculously consumer orientated, Christian propagandized greed fest.

Even if I didn't believe in the benefits of reduced consumption, I would do it solely to avoid the holiday mayhem in stores, traffic insanity on the streets, and onslaught of crappy, kill the fucking stereo, Christmas music that pours forth from every fucker with a stereo, street radio, store front, mall, convenience store, gas station pumps, peoples yards, those God-damn singing deer heads that have sprouted like a bad crabs outbreak on every available wall, and dancing Santa figurines that you want to bash repeatedly against those fucking lame-ass, country-singing deer heads.

The limited-time-only selection of mandarin oranges and eggnog almost make it worth it....until you go to buy them and are audibly assaulted by another one of those fucked up plastic deer heads singing at the end of the checkout line. Christ. I want to take my oranges and repeatedly pummel the fuckhead who thought that was some brilliant idea. Give him (because what female would glorify personification of a hunted, killed, then glorified Bambi) a fucking eggnog enema...see how witty a fake hunting trophy, singing deer head is then buddy. Moron.

Fucking counters

Okay, here it is. My web counter because I'm a geek and curiosity is lurking in the deeper recesses of my mind and slowly provoking it to torturous lengths. Fucker.
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