Paul is dead man, miss him, miss him

( The rest of the pictures that CNN and the AP won't show for fear of having their buildings exploded by crazy people who blow up buildings because of cartoons, but I don't have any buildings except one and it is very blow-up proof or so the nice lady who sold it to me says )

If a cartoon about your religion (a religion that professes to be a peaceful one, by the way - read your own holy book for once, dipshits) causes you to blow up buildings and call for the death of FUCKING CARTOONISTS, then you are subhuman. I mean, some of the cartoons aren't even very well drawn. What does it take to be offensive and/or worthy of fatwa or beheading or some shit?

>:O <----- Muhammad (he's angry)

Did I just cause all of Islam to me mad at me? WHOOPS!



I mean, these people look SERIOUS. Beheading is not reversible, last I checked. Nevermind, my little picture is not of Muhammad. It's MUHAMMAD ALI. He's mad. Also, very shakey.

Oh, while I'm at it, a lovely EAT A TRUCKLOAD OF DICKS goes out to the following:
- CNN for not showing the cartoons out of RESPECT FOR ISLAM
- The Associated Press for not showing the cartoons out of FEAR FOR THEIR ASSES
- The United States for saying the cartoons are offensive and uncalled for because they WANT TO SHOW HOW AWESOME WE THINK IT IS FOR MUSLIMS TO KILL PEOPLE THAT AREN'T US.

What a strange world we live in that no one in the mainstream media or in politics has stood up to say, "This is all ridiculous. These are cartoons. You are all crazy. YOUR religion cannot prevent ME from drawing cute little picture. Now go home before we take your threats seriously and shoot you all."

HOLY SHIT BEETLE BAILY JUST SAID SOMETHING ABOUT PRESBYTERIANS AND NOW I MUST KILL THE CARTOONIST AND THE DOG IN THAT STRIP THAT WEARS A MILITARY UNIFORM.

Oh, hi by the way. I'm not dead.

EDIT: Go look at this - http://www.b3tards.com/uploads/SHEEPEST.jpg

Today is my birthday.

Which do you prefer:
old_the_ironing
or
oh_the_oldening
?

That's it? That's all they've got? I mean, an exploded train in Spain and subway bombs in London that MAYBE has injured what, 500 people? In FOUR YEARS? Not that it isn't tragic, but damn, they really blew their wad with the WTC and Pentagon and plane crash in PA. NPR was saying that the London bombing is proof that al-Qaida's back isn't broken, but I think it's just the opposite. Obviously, even though they try to maximize casualties, they just don't have the firepower that they used to. Damn, fags, cigarettes kill more people in a day, and they're advertised on fucking BILLBOARDS. Wake me up when you've got something.

Rule, Britannia. The face of al-Qaida has a big clown nose today.

So, if you have access to a television or an internet, you know that the Duluth, GA woman, Jennifer Wilbanks, who went missing last week days before her wedding done up and R-U-N-N-O-F-T. Turns out she was not kidnapped by Mexicans like so many other brides-to-be and forced to work in the silver mines by day and made to suck the dicks of El Guapo's minions by night. She was also not killed to death by her husband-to-be and left in a bay to be eaten by the little fishes while he colored his hair and hustled down to Mexico to start his new life as a cabana boy for Penelope Cruz, who may or may not be Mexican, I can't be bothered to look. Oh, Mexico, is there any problem that you can't solve?

So, anyway, by now everyone in the respective families of the bride and groom are over their relief that there won't be a six month long murder trial which would feature all of them puffy-eyed and snot-nosed every night on Court TV, so they can now focus all their energy on hating the crazy, surprised-looking bitch for making them walk through tall weeds and scratchy bushes searching for her mangled corpse.


"My eyelids don't work, that's why.

Everyone, that is, except her husband, who still wants to marry her.


"No, that wasn't just a bad picture of her. We think it may be hyperthyroidism."

I tried to figure out why he would still marry this woman, who apparently didn't just freak out one day and beat feet to Vegas, but who planned her escape from his veiny nose for a couple of weeks. And then it hit me.

You see, marriage, like any other meaningful relationship, isn't built on silly esoteric ideas like "love" and "trust," but on the very real concepts of "balance of power" and "win-loss record." My man John Mason here has, at the very onset of his committed life together with Jennifer "My Eyes are Huge Fucking Bay Windows Overlooking My Terrified Soul" Wilbanks, the end-all-be-all of Get Out of Jail Free cards. There isn't a fight he can't win. There isn't a "just the boys" trip he can't take. There isn't a skank he can't get caught fucking.

What's she going to say? "I can't believe you would do this to me?" He has the big, red nuclear button to push at his leisure or even just set his drink on. "John, can we watch that TV movie where Rosie O'Donnell plays the retarded girl and Andie McDowell is her understanding and patient sister who rides on the bus with her and they learn about understanding and patience?" "Jennifer, remember that time when you went jogging and then ran off for three days and the entire nation thought that I had suffocated you with a plastic bag and used your squishy insides as compost for the garden? We're watching porn." It's all the freedom of having actually killed your wife without having to hangout with shitheads like Barry Scheck or Mark Geragos and listen to family members detail exactly how hot hell is and how they hope Satan sodomizes you every day.


Jennifer Wilbanks lightens everyone's mood with her famous impression of Michael Jackson's son, Blanket."

10fags

I think everyone is supposed to work together as one big LJ team to figure out who this is. What it REALLY becomes is a chance for minor LJ celebrities to discuss who is more LJ famous than who depending on whether they've been added or name-checked by someone performing the internet equivalent of walking up behind you, putting their hands over your eyes and saying "Guess who" and then leaving their hands there until you guess who they are, and instead of it being your sister or best friend, it's somebody who you passed by walking back from the bathroom at a concert 8 months ago and smiled at. At that point, the guess who game becomes a little less cute and a lot more like having a complete stranger's hands on your face.

I tried to catch up with that nonsense, but it takes way too much time to think about it and if I wanted a paid account, I'd just spend the $7.50 or whatever it is. I tried to get started with that AI thing a couple of years ago and that bee thing that was so popular and occasionally internet riddle thing that other people say are interesting and thought-provoking and end up you just download the picture and turn up the contrast in photoshop and see the next clue and I just end up cheating and finding the answers somewhere else online and then getting bored and moving on.

That having been said, I'll probably check back with it after it is all over and everyone will be "it was LJ USER XXXXX after all" and I'll be like "Oh, him/her. Ok. That was pretty awesome." It will only be interesting if, when it's all over, it's someone that isn't that LJ FAMOUS and not really associated with any kind of drama and kind of random that nobody would have guessed in years. Like sicfix or hooloovoo. THAT would make me laugh. Even better if it were kimya_dawson_ or that girl in Alaska who snuffed her mom.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, then you should be doing things that increase your internet celebrity status so that you'll be in the know. Try posting in legendary threads and finding humorous pictures online and typing hilarious/ironic things on them. Or, if you're a decent-looking girl, you'll be HOT on the internet, so try posting pictures of yourself taken from the most flattering angles (camera held over your head seems to work well if you're trying to disguise your affinity for milkshakes) and then toyed with in photoshop to get rid of your hairlip. Dressing up in cosplay/ren fair/armadillo outfits will also appeal to the sizable anime fan/18th century lord/insane, perverted furry demographics.

But, in the spirit of giving people something to do on the internet, I'm going to provide you a riddle, as well:

I'm thinking of a number between 1 and 10,000,000.

Remember to work together. Remember that TEAM stands for "Together We Accomplish More." Or something.

Get to work. The winner gets to win.

Also, it wouldn't be a fun without CLEVER HINTS:

1. The number may or may not be prime.
2. The number isn't 8, or IS IT?
3. If you add two numbers together and subtract a third number, you get this number

Also, this is kind of a interesting thing that doesn't have anything to do with this post. Make your face.

R.I.P. Hunter S. Thompson

Denver Post Story

I'm pretty sure sicfix is crying somewhere.



There was a guy who could tell a story.

So, on the recommendation of the Next-Door Lesbian, I watched The Biggest Loser last night, expecting 90 minutes of well-earned laughs at the expense of fatties. What I got was a wake up call that woke me up like one of those calls you get in a hotel room in the morning after you call the night before and ask the operator to call you in the morning to wake you up.

For those of you who do not watch The Biggest Loser, it is a show that comes on the little box what sits in my living room. It is about a dozen or so obese men and women who are so desperate to lose a couple of hundred pounds that they will go on national television and take off their shirts, exposing themselves in all of their fleshy glory. The tubs of goo are divided into two teams, Red and Blue, and made to compete against each other in degrading, fat-exploiting competitions and in losing weight. Interesting concept if you despise humanity - lucky for me that I do.

At the very beginning, I knew that I hated the Red team. I hated them so much that my entire body clenched to the point where I couldn't pee for the rest of the night, despite drinking almost two quarts of Crystal Light lemonade. Just looking at them made me sick to my stomach. First of all, they were FAT. Horribly, horribly fat. To be fair, the Blue team was horribly fat, as well, but that didn't matter, as the Red team had already angered me with its slightly-more-obesiosity. I called my rooting for the Blue team "the lesser of two fatties." Well, it wasn't so much rooting for the Blue team as hoping that the Red team would get together in a group hug and that their combined mass would cause them to collapse into a singularity.

The first competition was a little talent show, with both groups getting up on a stage and jiggling while they sing and dance. From the beginning, it was obvious that the Blue team's performance was far superior to the Red's. The Red team was stupid and looked like a bunch of monkeys trying to fuck a football. I sat back, confident that the Blues would be victorious, that the people in to room watching would surely vote for the team that I knew to be less fat, stupid, and monkey-fucking-a-football-ish. Soon, the host, Caroline Rhea (no Kate Moss herself) stood to announce the winner. To my astonishment, she said that the Reds had won it in a landslide. At first I thought that Caroline, a notorious pro-Red activist, had called the vote too early and that the later voters, who obviously took their time to understand all the entertainment possibilities of both groups, would surely vote in droves for the Blues. But no, her call for the Reds stood. Desperate to understand how such a travesty could have happened, I paused my TiVo to take a closer look, and I saw them. ELECTRONIC VOTING PADS. Obviously some people had been confused and had hit the button marked RED TEAM, thinking that they were voting for the Blues. I mean, how could they vote for the FUCKING RED TEAM!!!! THEY ARE HORRIBLY FAT!! Then, finally, it sunk in. The real reason. The Blue team had two black people on it! The voters in the room were obviously evil, mouth-breathing racists who hated black people so much that they were able to overlook the blatant fatitude of the Red team. Those people that voted RED are the stupidest people on the planet and should be pushed into the ocean. Maybe they can all clamber aboard the Red team members and float off to Poland, where they apparently LOVE the obese.

Anyway, later in the show, they have a weigh-in to see which team has lost the most weight. As they were leaving the house to go to the weigh-in site, each of the Blue team members was asked who would win the weigh-in. 100%, ONE HUNDRED PERCENT, of the Blue team stated confidence that they would win the weigh-in. I almost turned off my television at this point with the knowledge that the Blues had it in the bag. Of course, once the actual results started to roll in, my joy turned to horror as Red was losing 5 or 6 pounds more per person than the Blues (or so the ELECTRONIC scales would have you believe). The Blues were thoroughly routed. HOW COULD THE EXIT POLLING HAVE BEEN SO WRONG??? Only one answer - Widespread scale fraud.

So, needless to say I am utterly disillusioned by the The Biggest Loser process. I'm seriously considering moving to Ethiopia, where I hear that obesity really isn't a problem.

EDIT BECAUSE I FUCKING FORGOT THAT CAROLINE RHEA, DURING THE WEIGH-IN, WAS WEARING A RED SHIRT!!!!! THE ARROGANCE THAT SHE THINKS SHE CAN BE SO OBVIOUS AND STILL GET AWAY WITH IT!!! NO JUSTICE NO PEACE! WRONG FATTIE WRONG CUPCAKE WRONG INSULIN!!!

Oh, the political climate has done more than divide a nation, it has divided a website. Some of my dear LJ friends have committed LJ murder on me by using the most reviled weapon in their arsenal - the "Remove Friend" button. No reasons have been given, except a vague post from one of them who culled me in a major sweep of the intolerant, who apparently hate one of the members of her family. I, of course, hate them all, but she would have no way of knowing that, nor do I hate them because they are either liberal or Canadian or Black or black-Canadian, or Lesbian Freestyle Rapper, or have bad teeth, or are active, inactive, or semi-active protestors of some sort. No, I hate them because I hate pretty much everybody, and if I haven't met them and don't know a single thing about them, I just go ahead and hate them on the assumption that they're human and they probably would annoy me to no end. But I probably wasn't removed because I am intolerant. I was removed because I made the unforgivable error of disagreeing with her in a logical manner. If you do that to a fringe right-winger, you are stupid or Godless; if you do that to a fringe left-winger, you are either ignorant, bigoted, or that catch-all PC basket - intolerant. So, for future reference, those of you who expect me to tolerate, you will be profoundly disappointed.

But, the bitter left should not be so cavalier as to not continue to read my journal, as I am about to explain to them how to get their country back. It's simple, but I don't expect my sound advice to be taken, as it requires more effort than lamenting over the stupidity and EEEEEEVILNESS of those who don't believe the exact same things that they do. Ready?

Don't make idle threats to move to Canada or France or Antarctica. Actually move. But to Ohio and Florida and Nevada and New Mexico. Change those states from red to blue. Talk to people in them, talk to your friends and tell them of the beauty of the Nevada deserts and the New Mexico mountains and the Florida beaches and the Ohio...um...something is beautiful in Ohio, I'm sure. But, don't be surprised if those places change YOU, as well. You might find out that the people in them aren't inbred hicks who hate everyone that is different from them, but don't travel around too much, as there are some enclaves that have inbred hicks that hate everyone that is different from them. Tolerance involves more than surrounding yourself with people who think and act the same way as you, and intolerance can be based on more than appearance and sexual preference.

LJ has never been such a Laff-Olympics. I am currently celebrating the salad days of unintentional humor, and it is keeping me in stitches.

Let me explain something to the (ever decreasing) number of people who read what I write occasionally. Everybody who disagrees with you isn't a mouth-breathing retard, and your continued assertions that they are point out more about your flaws than it does about theirs. My favorite culprit today is the usually-fantastic Laney B., who has chosen 2 days after to the election to declare that he is not proud of being an American, but is proud of New York and Pennsylvania. The unintentional comic genius of Laney B is subtle, however, as it involves a bit of math. See, Kerry won Pennsylvania by a fraction of a percent. That means that if one out of fifty people in Pennsylvania had decided to stay home (maybe it rained), then Laney B would lump his home state in with the states that he wouldn't drive through because over 50% of them "have godhatesfags.com bookmarked on their list of favorite websites". 1 out of 50!! Does that seem arbitrary and capricious to you? Sure it does, but Laney doesn't have to make sense anymore, HIS CANDIDATE LOST. Laney, if you're reading this, come in off the ledge. We all love you, except those of us in the Red States, who hate you because you're black.

I hate to even mention the "I'm going to move to Canada" crowd. Suffice it to say, "No, you aren't."

There are, however, some highlights. Coggs submits a sweet little open letter to the coasts, painting the midwest and southern states a color a little lighter than blood red. And the backlash begins (and ends, as he has disabled comments) with tequilaprophet, who counters the self-righteous anger of his friends page with a post that rapidly degenerates into a tirade of his own, ending with the LJ-murderous "Fuck you, and get off my friends list." Before he says that, he makes a spot-on point by musing "I wonder why I would vote for a candidate who's supporters hate me just because I exercised my right to vote for whom I choose." Honest to G-d, that might be the best reason I've heard yet to vote for one of the two zeroes we had to choose from. Too bad it's retroactive.

But gfonk probably has so many links to his post by now that he shows up first in a Google search of "this makes sense." Those Bush-haters who have yet only to blame the idiocy/lunacy/depravity/inbrededness of those who chose not to vote the same way they did would do well to spend some time understanding how their party nominated one of the few people on the planet who could have lost to Bush.

Oh, and to the growing number of people posting this morning that want to blame the whole thing on the gay marriage issue - if you keep thinking that this is the reason that Kerry lost, then the Republicans are definitely smarter than you and will continue to run the White House, the House and the Senate. The gay marriage stuff ran WAY FUCKING AHEAD of Bush at the ballot box, meaning that many of the enlightened Kerry voters also voted for a ban on gay marriage. The unintentional hilarity of the "Red States Hate Fags" position is that it conveniently ignores the fact that KERRY RAN AGAINST GAY MARRIAGE. So, a vote for Kerry was against gay marriage. If you voted for Bush or Kerry, you hate gay people. Another reason to vote for Nader.

It appears that all of LJ is in mourning, which is hee-haw, piss-in-your-pants funny. One of the more entertaining irrational breakdowns is courtesy of our friend sm0t, who creates a less-than-subtle metaphor of America being an abused woman, in the process saying that the Republicans have "managed to systematically take away everything America had." You heard it on LJ first - America is over. It's about time, America is soooooo 228 years ago.

You should have all just voted for Nader. Who wasted their vote this time, HUH???

Now, for some finger-pointing!! Who is to blame for the complete ass-whipping that went on last night?

1. The DNC - The plan to get a quick nominee that could save money for use in the general election was a dismal failure. What you ended up with was nominee that was not fully vetted by the process and could not take advantage of a weak incumbent. Just think of it - the Democrats, with all that money and intelligence at their command, failed to nominate someone who could beat George W. Bush. There is probably something on the planet more pathetic than this, but I can't begin to dream of what it is.

2. John Kerry - Holy fucking shitbombs. This guy was a complete gutterball from the word go, and ended up being Bob Dole to Bush's Bill Clinton. He ran the worst campaign since Al Gore, which admittedly was only four years ago. He chose JOHN EDWARDS for his VP, which is so shit-all stupid that my head might cave in. Did he think that choosing an effete trial lawyer from North Carolina would help him in the South? Did he believe that guys driving trucks that have stickers of Calvin peeing on various things would get their heads turned by yet another fabulous head of hair? There wasn't a guy from a FUCKING SWING STATE that you could throw on the ticket that might help you win?

3. The "Anybody But Bush" Crowd - You tried. You really did. You got a perfectly horrible candidate to run, ostensibly to see if "Anybody" would be better than Bush. "So, a 20-year Senate back-bencher with no real accomplishments since the Vietnam War? Massachusetts liberal? Record of voting contrary to the opinion of 60-70% of the American public? Complete weasel? SOUNDS GREAT BECAUSE HE ISN'T BUSH. HE'LL WIN IN A WALK." Whoopsy-daisy! Hating one of the candidates really, really fucking bad isn't enough to get the other one elected. The other apparently has to be electable. Ask the GOP in 1996.

Let me put this in context for people. America isn't stupid. The majority of American voters may disagree with YOU, but people who think that they know better than the American electorate don't understand. George Bush got more votes than anyone, ever, in history. I don't agree with those people who voted for him, but I know for a fact that every one of them isn't stupid. This "woe is America, I'm moving to Canada, the World is Ending, FOX News has fooled 52% of the population" is a thinly disguised attitude of "if only everyone were as thoughtful and intelligent as ME, this world would be perfect, but since they aren't, the world is horrible and we should all just give up." The Republicans said the same thing when Clinton was elected (twice) and, last I checked, the world is still around.

So, relax, LJ. Jesus isn't weeping. David Bowie lyrics aren't suddenly more relevant. I haven't seen any rioting. Gays aren't going to jail, although I was super disappointed (but not surprised) to see that I am one of only 21% or so to think that it is patently fucking ridiculous to change a state constitution to define marriage as being between a man and a woman. And anyway, Kerry was no real friend to gays or the anti-war movement, or anybody really. Poor guy, he was in over his head. Bush is a horrible President, but you got to hand it to the guy, he is a fantastic politician.

I have a confession to make, one that I thought I never would make or would even have to be a confession or even was that horrible, until recently I learned from some of my more enlightened friends that I am solely responsible for destroying the Universe.

Yes, that's right. I voted for Nader in 2000.

Read it again, for your brain may have a hard time translating the pixels of the above sentence into letters, the letters into words, and the words into a coherent thought.

Since committing this sin against humanity, I have been constantly reminded that I, personally, have destroyed the environment and the economy and have taken the country into a horrible war. To my friends, and to all of you who are sitting with mouth agape, I now say, "Whoops."

Why did I do it, you ask? Well, to put it bluntly, my other two options were shit. Al Gore is a complete tool and not at all as intelligent as the true believers made him out to be. I couldn't bring myself to vote for him, despite the fact that I am utterly supportive of and dedicated to environmental causes - I give all I can to Greenpeace, the Sierra Club, and Republicans for Environmental Protection (I like to cover my bases). GWB on the other hand...well, this is LiveJournal and if you don't know everything about what a gutterball he is, you should click on the "random journal" thing on the search page. So, I voted for Nader, knowing that GWB would win Georgia no matter how I voted. And, he did. But my liberal friends, who are every bit as arrogant and humorless as my conservative friends, still blame me for their idiot candidate not being able to defeat the empty-headed son of a D+ President. Perspective is soooo 7 years ago.

( So, how am I voting this year???? )

So, the girl I was dating and I went to an adult store, because she suggested that we watch a porno together. See, if you're a guy in the DEEP SOUTH, these things really don't happen that often. Besides, it's not like the guy can suggest it down here, so when she brought up the idea, I was excited, but I couldn't be TOO EXCITED. I mean, I didn't think it would be a good idea to respond with "I KNOW JUST THE ONE. It has this hot girl-on-girl scene and just the right amount of anal!" Instead, it was more like "Um...ok, geez, I don't even know where an adult store might be around here."

The adult store is a trap for the man. Again, you have to play your excitement about watching porn with your girlfriend against the overwhelming urge to start yelling at her "Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, Jenna Haze fucks Chasey Lain with a strap-on in this one! I vote for it!" I ended up letting her choose; it seemed like the diplomatic thing to do, but it ended up being a tremendous mistake, as the movie ended up having all this plot and the interesting scenes were dimly lit and the sex was very straightforward. Another wasted opportunity.

But that isn't what I wanted to post about. While I was at the adult store (I'm getting a little tired of typing "adult store", but it wasn't just a porno joint, as they also had dildos and bongs and dildo-shaped bongs) I saw a movie called "Barely Legal on Vacation." It was in a box set with "Barely Legal on Vacation Part II", apparently so that you wouldn't have to wait for the denouement in the second act. The movies, as far as I could discern, are about four 18-20 year old girls who go on vacation and end up having some screamy sex. Fair enough, that's pretty much every porn made. But on the cover of this one, it references "Barely Legal Magazine," which it describes as "America's Favorite Magazine."

I was more than a little taken aback by this. America's Favorite Magazine? Barely Legal Magazine is dedicated to providing explicit pictures of girls just over the age of eighteen. While this is certainly a noble purpose, I'm surprised to find out that it would be America's Favorite Magazine. I would have guessed it was Reader's Digest or TV Guide. I'm not sure of the metrics by which it has been determined that Barely Legal is America's Favorite Magazine, but I can't imagine that it's measured in circulation. Maybe it's customer satisfaction, as I've tried to read Reader's Digest at my grandmother's house and it totally sucked, probably much worse than young women in explicit poses. oh_the_ironing's Favorite Magazine is the Utne Reader*, so maybe if they ever produce a porn, they could use that on the cover.




* This is a complete lie. My favorite magazine is Entertainment Weekly.

I go on one vacation a year by myself. Usually, for about two weeks.

I go to Sun Valley, Idaho, which is my favorite place on the planet. Some people think that it's really odd that I go on vacation by myself, especially to a place that is sparsely populated. But when I go on vacation, I like to actually be on vacation, and I have yet to go on vacation with someone else where I cam back rested and relaxed. I took a girl to Sun Valley a couple of years ago against my better judgment, and she tried to schedule every second of every day with trip and outings and activities until she made me absolutely nuts with her Bataan Death March to see and experience everything within a 300 mile radius because it was her vacation and she DIDN'T WANT TO MISS ANYTHING. Meanwhile, I just wanted to sit on the back porch of the house and read and watch the stream and hike a little and run every afternoon.

A couple of relationships have ended over this practice. The girls freak out because they think that I either don't like them enough to take them to my favorite place on the planet, or they think that I'm going all the way to Idaho just to cheat on them. I then express to them in my own, subtle way that they are batshit insane and should go away and never return.

I took my nephew to Disney World a few months ago. That place is the very definition of insane people killing themselves trying to wring every bit of FUN from every second of every day. I can't begin to count the number of parents SCREAMING at their exhausted children to quit being brats and shutup about wanting to sit down and rest and come get in line to HAVE FUN. When my nephew wanted to sit down, we sat down. When he wanted to go back to the hotel and swim, that's what we did. We had fun, a lot more so than if I had gone all Clark W. Griswold and screamed "NO WE'RE NOT GOING BACK TO THE HOTEL, GET YOUR FUCKING ASS IN LINE TO RIDE IT'S A SMALL WORLD."

Anyway, I'll be on vacation for a couple of weeks as of this afternoon. I'll get e-mail if you respond to this post, but I won't be on the net very much. Maybe I'll post pictures.

As of late, I have been running afoul of some of my esteemed livejournal friends. After commenting in their journals, I have been accused of having "something up my ass" (million-to-one shot, doc!) and told "you don't have to read my journal" or "if you don't like what I have to say, just take me off your friend list." THE HORROR!!! And it's not like I commented in their journal "Hi. Your journal sucks more ass than a guy trying to drink a triple-thick donkey milkshake though a coffee straw. Please die horribly and rid the world of the excruciating results of your apparent random banging on the keyboard, you dull fucking dimwitted shit-for-brains assmunch fucknose mouthbreathing piefaced tit." No, really I just commented expressing a differing opinion from the journal owner, usually poking fun at some fevervently-held, but not particularly well thought out, belief that they have put forth in their journal, ostensibly to educate the masses on how either how torture victims in Iraq got what coming to them or how happy they are that Reagan is DEAD or some other carefully nuanced, societally-valuable comment on the world political landscape. It ain't The New Yorker around these parts, kid. The best you can possible hope for is "George DUMBYA looks like a MONKEY!!!" or, my favorite, pictures of aborted fetuses. LOOKEE!! DEAD, DISMEMBERED UNBORN HUMANS! ENJOY YOUR BREAKFAST!!

So, when I comment in these journals, using my trademark subtle, gentle reasoning, I get responses from one group that amount to "You fascist fatcat repukelican war-mongering baby killer!" and from the other "You leftist, tree-hugging hippie unborn baby killer!"

Look, I just want to kill babies. That's all. Born or unborn. I was brought up correctly and do not discriminate. I don't want to vote. I just want to kill babies. Unless the vote is about killing babies. Then I'll vote the straight pro-baby killing ticket, or the anti not baby killing ticket. Whichever. I'll probably just vote for whichever group's commercials I like better. That's how I do everything else.

Some people have even EXCISED me from their friend lists, which is akin to livejournal MURDER. This is preventing me from joining the exclusive ranks of those LJ denizens with public entries and TRIPLE DIGIT "friend of" lists. I've been stuck in the mid and high nineties for an eternity. I AM SO FUCKING CLOSE TO THE GLORY I CAN TASTE IT.

To the people (present AND future - and to the future people exclusively, who wins this year's Super Bowl?) on my friend list - you most likely know what I am by now. I'm kind of an asshole, and I like to make fun of people. If I haven't made fun of YOU yet, I more than likely WILL. And if I don't, I will probably make fun of one of your bestest, lifelong efriends. And if not that, I will probably call someone batshit insane for having an opinion that you yourself hold dear. So, if you're gonna give me the old "you're a total shit, this is MY journal and I can say whatever I want and take me off your friend list if you have some sort of PROBLEM with it," save us both the trouble and leave me a note in this post asking me politely to never make fun of you. I SWEAR ON MY SECOND COUSIN'S MOLES THAT I WILL NOT MOCK YOU IN OVERLY WORDY AND RAMBLING RESPONSES TO YOUR COMMENTS. I also expressly forbid anyone else to mock you, to the extent that I am willing to put forth the effort to enforce this mandate, which is not at all.

PS - I don't really kill babies. I skin them and send their skins to rival, who is making a complete cosplay outfit out of baby skin. I WILL admit that a certain percentage of babies perish during this process, but I believe this is their CHOICE, and I will fight for a baby's RIGHT to choose to die after all of their skin is removed. Keep your laws off my exposed muscle fibers and nerve endings!

I have one or two gmail account invites left to give out. Who wants it? N00dz are VERY convincing, unless your name is rival, in which case QUIT SENDING ME N00DZ!

For those of you who are wondering "when is OTI going to update again?" or "what the fuck? I thought I already defriended OTI because he's an unfunny dick who never updates!" or "why am I itching so bad?", your answers are coming soon, in a meta post that will fail to entertain everyone except me! That's right! I'll be looking inward at my time on LJ and dissecting my every thought regarding the service. Many of these thoughts have been expressed better by other people in other journals before, but I'm gonna jump on the introspective bandwagon.

Maybe I'll do one of those "post anonymously here and trash somebody by name and then they'll be an assload of drama and then somebody will link the person you trashed to the post and then they can post it in their journals and send their entire friend's list to take up for them in the most clumsy, unfunny way possible and call the anonymous person a COWARD and then the anon will breed other, even MORE annoying anons and the process will go on and on and on."

Wait, don't do that. If you have something to say about someone, especially someone on your friend's list, go to THEIR journal and tell them. It can be a simple "I don't like you" or a complex, rambling statement about how they are the shittiest person in the entire world and you hate them hate them hate them. Don't harass them, just post, non-anonymously, your REAL feelings and then post a link to it here. Clear the air, and provide me entertainment!

I want to marry Vitamin C.

Not the actual vitamin that also goes by "ascorbic acid" (by the way, I just read somewhere that "ascorbic" means "without scurvy". Neat, huh?) No, I want to marry the singer/personality know as Vitamin C. The reason, you may have guessed, is because she's hot. And while that might be all the reason necessary for a shallow person (that's usually the only reason I give for anything), there are many other reasons to marry Vitamin C. The first is that she's on this WB Superstar USA show that I watched some yesterday and is amazingly hilarious. She delivers all of her hilarity with a completely straight face, unlike the white guy's too-much-effort half-smirk. Tone-Loc, well, every time he says anything, you want to add "And likes to do the Wild Thing" to the end of his sentence.

So the thing about the show is that it is the anti-American Idol, in that they are trying to find the worst singer in America, but with convincing the contestants that they are actually trying to find the best. So, they berate all the good singers and heap loads of hilarious praise on the shitty singers.

One of the contestants kept calling himself "Joe" as in "Joe would make a great superstar because Joe can sing and Joe has a lot of charisma." After he sang horribly, Vitamin (I love her and can therefore call her by her Christian name) said "I love the fact that you refer to yourself in the third person. It's very important for rock and pop AND rock stars to do that."

Plus, if I married Vitamin C, I could make amazing sexual jokes like "I have to make sure Vitamin C gets her recommended daily allowance of ME" and other hilarious one-liners that I haven't thought of yet, but you can bet they'd be double entendres.

So, my flight home from Dallas (DFW Airport, represent!) was delayed for an hour and a half, probably because somebody in Atlanta thought they saw a cloud. I swear to god, it's like this city's never seen weather. The first drop of water that hits the ground here and everyone either stops their car or slams it into one that has stopped. Anyway, I was traveling with a guy from work and we decided to get something to eat in the airport. Chili's, here we come! Our waiter is a nice guy, very helpful. We ordered the oriental chicken wings for an appetizer, and our waiter replied with, "Oh, you'll really like those. There awesome." And yes, he used the wrong spelling of "they're" when he said it. Don't ask me how I know, I just do.

Our wings came, and, just like anything else you'd eat at Chili's, they fell well short of awesome. They fell into the "I think I'll manage to keep them down" category. So, when he checked back with us, he asked "How are those wings, huh?" My friend said, "Good." But I wasn't going out like that, so I decided to be honest. "You know, they really aren't that great. I think you set some unrealistic expectations when you said they were awesome. They're pretty bland and certainly overcooked."

( Cut, because who knows how long these things can get )

I'm sitting on a plane to Dallas at 11:30pm on Easter. It's miserable, and I have some guy with orange fucking running shoes and no socks sitting across the aisle from me trying furtively to feel up his girlfriend who is sitting next to him, so as not to call any attention to the fact that his hand is up her skirt, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I am two and a half feet away from them and apart from bludgeoning myself into unconsciousness with my laptop, I have no way to escape their middle-aged groping and giggling, on a crowded airplane, at 11:30pm on Easter. I can't even glance to the side to give them my patented "for-the-love-of-shit-stop-doing-what-you're-doing-and-shut-the-hell-up" glance for fear that I might see this ass-brained monkey bring the Olive Oil impersonator next to him to a fumbling, shameful public orgasm and rid myself of the ability to achieve a sustained erection for the rest of my life. I forget who said "Hell is other people," and I don't have access to the internet right now, but if I did, I would look it up and say "blah blah blah said 'Hell is other people'" and then I'd give salient details about blah blah blah's life that I found using a Google search and even make a no-doubt hilarious joke about something and never let on that I found all this stuff on the web in a two-minute search and then everyone that reads this could be all "that OTI sure does know a lot about blah blah blah" and I could be slightly mysterious and say that I know a LOT of things and then all of you might be like "who is this oh_the_ironing, and how does he know so many THINGS?" And all the while, I really don't know very many THINGS at all, and now I've been exposed and completely undone by my inability to access the internet for two hours and by my lazy nature that prevents me from going back and editing this post once I DO have access to the internet. And I hate traveling, not just because of the people next to me who are STILL FUCKING GOING AT IT and now they're making out in fits and starts when they think I'm not looking but I can't help but see them because my eyes are open and I'm SO VERY CLOSE TO THEM, but also because all my clothes get wrinkled and I'm pretty rumpled to begin with but when I travel it's usually to meet with a client face-to-face and I don't like very many people well enough to enjoy being face-to-face with them and I come off like an asshole but if my suit and shirt look crisp enough I can play off my assholish nature as "tough and no-nonsense", but if all my shit is fucked up from being in a suitcase, I'm just some asshole in a wrinkled suit.

And now, I shit you not, the girl is face-down in the guy's lap.

I usually don't comment on LJ Drama, but I usually don't get called "evil in its most basic form," which I thought were the buttered popcorn flavored Jelly Bellys, but, apparently, is me!

To sum it up, THE POWERS THAT BE at LJ decided as an April Fools joke to have lj_serialadder add EVERYBODY, and then they changed "Friend of" to "Stalked by" and blah blah blah. If you need the backstory, you can find it here at LJDrama. mr_dark throws a shit-fit about it here and gets about 500 comments telling him that he's as dumb as a congresswoman. I pile on here - make sure you go to the bottom of the thread where I am called "pure evil."

Anyway, I was fascinated by the idea that mr_dark's THIRD GIRLFRIEND THAT HE'S MET ON LJ, girlghoul threatened BRAD that she would call an Internet Lawyer if he didn't change the "Friend of" back.

(ring)
Receptionist: Thank you for calling the legal offices of Furrylova821, Xbritnnexh8erx, Rubenstien & Hotbabe69xo69. How may I direct your call?
lilgothgirl: I'd like to sue LiveJournal for assuming I have a sense of humor. I don't. I'm a goth.
Receptionist: Yes, mistress. I'll put you in touch with one of our associates.

(rings an extension)
VampireSlave4U: This is VampireSlave4U. A/S/L?
lilgothgirl: 35/Female Vampire/The dark nether regions of the soul.
VampireSlave4U: You sound hot. How can I help you?
lilgothgirl: LiveJournal told me that all these people are stalking me and now I'm hiding from my monitor and I'm scared to even drive by CompUSA.
VampireSlave4U: Well, good news! That is certainly an internet tort and we can certainly go to court! I have case law from Marbury vs. Madison and Coach Z vs The pets.com Sock Puppet.
lilgothgirl: What do you think I'll get?
VampireSlave4U: How does 3600 hours of FREE AMERICA ONLINE sound to you?

And...scene!

"Fuck, I can't breathe," he managed to groan out in between coughs, exhausted and disoriented from lack of sleep. The reply was slow and sleepy, but unmistakably hers, "Pollen count was 5,000. There's Robo on your bedside table." He reached over and took a big pull from the bottle, knowing he was up for good, knowing that even when he was little, he could never get back to sleep after waking up, no matter what time it was. It was 3:30am. He rolled over to tell her that he was going across the hall to the den to watch TV. But, of course, she wasn't there. She hadn't been there for three years, maybe three and a half, and she had never really been there, not in this bed, not in this house, where the den wasn't across the hall at all, but downstairs, and there's no one there to apologize to for his sleeplessness.

He hated this time of night, when simply being awake brought the kind of dizziness and confusion that he always felt was the worst part of being alive. Confusion drags along with it fear and loneliness; he remembered his Grandfather's face and the confused look that didn't say "I'm searching to remember something that is right on the tip of my tongue" but whispered "I know that I will never be sure of anything else ever again, that the thing that made me ME is gone forever."

At his best, his thoughts line up quietly and peacefully, a mile-long row of cows headed to the slaughterhouse to be brought to the front and taken care up quickly and painlessly, then moved out of the way to make room for the next. At 3:31am, his mind was an anthill, and he was trying to pick the ants off one by one with a BB gun, and no matter how carefully he lined up his shot, he missed his mark over half the time, and even the shots that end up killing an ant only served to agitate the rest of them and hundreds more came pouring out.