There's a snake in my shower

At some point, I stupidly decided that I needed more exposure to things and planned an excursion to Costa Rica to visit the Talamanca BriBri. I will talk more about them later as they are a blog and a half alone. The purpose of this blog is to talk about everything else that is trying to kill me in this country.

1. The flight: Anyone who knows me knows I hate flying. I REALLY hate flying. I would rather drive eleventy billion miles than fly. I know all the statistics that tell me flying is safer than driving but tell that to the people on the 6 flights out of three million that have crashed with Delta Air (Yes, I looked up the statistics. Yes, I know that makes me paranoid. No, I don't need help unless you have some recreational Xanax you'd like to offer.)

Things I should never hear on a flight: "Sorry folks but it's going to be extra turbulent because the volcano is extra active today."

Wait, What?

Which brings me to point two, which is

2. The active freaking Volcano: This pretty much covers it in one sentence. I've spent entirely too much time around an active volcano. The tourists are like "Yay Lava Flows!" and I'm like "Why are we standing here still? Do you people understand Lava is H-O-T? Are you all familiar with the concept of Pompeii? Google it, I'll wait.....oh wait..."

Which brings me to point three

3. The Internet: The internet here is owned by an evil corporation called ICE. They own the cell phones, they own the pay phones, they own the internet. If you want to use their service, they will own you. I am pretty sure that somewhere in the Spanish Small Print is "And we will be allowed the blood of your first born". Also, it only covers 70% of the country. Everyone guess which 30% of the country I've been in frequently? At least the surrounding area is beautiful and full of nature which brings me to point 4....

4. There's a snake in my god damned shower, as evidenced above. Also, my shower is outside. Also, There's a GOD DAMNED SNAKE THAT IS HALF AS LONG AS ME IN MY SHOWER.

If you all will excuse me, I'm running low on battery and need a bottle of the delightful local drink that I am pretty sure is made with sugar, melon, and diesel fuel.

Non-western lit is the bane of my existence

*Pictured at the right "Diversity". Also, a gay man*

Well the class is. Not so much Non-Western literature as a whole. I rather enjoy reading something that hasn't been shoved down my throat for years. Although I love my English classes, I was getting entirely sick of reading "Beowulf" and "The Tempest" over and over again. So, I took Non-Western Lit last semester.

I should have known it was going to be a problem just by virtue of all my other classes not being a problem. I always have that one class that just doesn't work out. Intro to Diversity ("You're Racist!), Debate (You're Racist!), Critical Interpretation ("You're Racist and can't tell the difference between Synecdoche and Metonymy). Note, there's a bit of a theme here. My teacher told me that I was too closed minded and that I could learn from my classmates. Protip: The right answer is not "I do not pay tuition to learn from 20 people with associate's degrees. I pay tuition to learn from the person with all of the fancy letters after her name." Maybe I'm wrong. It's happened plenty of times before. It will most likely continue until I go to that great Chicken Wing Shack in the Sky.

Every book we read was coming from a Post-Colonialist point of view. I really didn't have a problem with this but as the semester wore on and on, it was hard to see the Non-Western Lit part of view. It was just like reading western literature that was sprinkled with brown people occasionally. I never walked out feeling I had a sense of culture. Rather, I walked out sensing how western culture has affected others.Example: If we read about India, the stories might have an Indian or two, but the majority of the characters were white or were trying to escape browness and assimilate into the White world. I am also pretty ok with that. If I lived in a place where being brown was a problem, I probably would too...oh wait....

We read two stories out of ten that I considered to be western literature. One was about the Biafra war in Nigeria. The other was about the cultural revolution in China. None of my classmates knew anything about the events and they all hated these stories. I can cut some slack for not being hip the the Biafra war simply because our schools focus narrowly on what is considered to be important history. Clearly, we only learn about the popular genocides (Of course, my classmates could only name one genocide. Two if you count the class debating on if Rwanda actually counts). However, not knowing about the Chinese Cultural Revolution (any of them much less the one we tend to be familiar with) was a bit much for me.

I entirely lost it when I had to sit in a class of 20 something young mostly white (although I can't say with 100% certainty they were all white because I have plenty of members of my own family that can pass for white) young people discuss what people in a genocide should have done instead of being geocided to death.

"I would have just left the country": Of course! No one ever thought of that! And it was just as unlikely that if they did think of it that other countries might turn them away or not want to deal with refugees.

"I would have never eaten dead animals from the roadside.That's so gross": You also wouldn't have survived long with that attitude.

"They would pry my rights from my cold dead gun-toting hands": Which is pretty much what happened to a lot of people. Grats for being ahead of the curve?

"I am so glad we don't have that kind of intolerance here. Third world countries have so much work to do." : I know what this person was trying to say but it was ludicrous coming in the middle of a conversation of these young people looking down on how people survived. Also, since they were only really familiar with one genocide, I wanted to point out that particular genocide happened in a non-third world country and wasn't full of the silly misguided brown people but I thought if I opened my mouth it might come out like "Hisssssssssss *incomprehensible shrieking*"

I already knew that in nearly everything I would read in an English program is going to be pretty White and Pretty Western. I love my glorious (dead) white overlord-authors. However, I was mildly confused by every story in my non-western literature class being heavily white and western. Pointing out the fact that our stories were still heavily western (The last story we read was by a guy in the United States. He says right in the front of the book he was writing a historical fiction and in no way shape or form intends to speak for the people, he was just fascinated with the culture) literature got me labeled as a racist. At least this time it was coming from white people. Normally, it's my own brethern and semi-brethern accusing me of being a self-hating brown folk.

Our last story was about the Marshall Islands. As you all may know, the United States did some serious nuclear testing there. The people in the area have issues with cancer, reproductive issues, and other health issues. A member of my class said "It's so refreshing to see people who don't blame the United States and white people for all of their problems. We even took care of them and gave them 11k per person."

Now that I have written this out, I don't think my problem was mostly with the class at all. I still do not consider the class to be western lit but the literature was memorable and touching. I think my problem is with stupid people. At least I have the good common sense to keep my stupid opinions out of the classroom and post them on the internet instead. If you folks will excuse me, I am off to sign up for non-western lit part 2. My degree path requires for me to be a well rounded individual and I am failing miserably.

The Service Industy and me: This cake is a lie.

*Not pictured at the right: Me not setting a crackhead on fire.*

"Soul Crushing" are the most frequent words I use to describe my time in the service industry. I recognize that I am using it as a means to an end (Colleges like it when you pay them);but, I am pretty sure what little soul I have is being consumed by a monster called Customer Service. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate the customer...usually. I would prefer to rectify any situation rather than let someone go away unsatisfied. With all of that being said, There are a few people that need to get bent. Today would be nice but I would settle for in general.

Mr/Ms More Education (perceived or otherwise)- Example: "Do you know who I am? I have 8 Doctorates! I could do your job with my eyes plucked out and my arms sundered from my body." This person will spend a lot of time lecturing me about his/her various degrees and why everything I am doing is one step short of functionally retarded. Amazingly enough, this particular person has yet to figure out that by shrieking at me and forcing me to cater to his/her temper tantrum actually slows down my ability to solve whatever the the problem might be. My ideal response would be "Is one of your degrees in Jackassery? If so, you show a beautiful mastery of it." The appropriate hasn't got me fired yet response is "I would appreciate it if you did not attempt to denigrate me. I realize you are frustrated but personal attacks are uncalled for and slow the process down." This response has yielded me at least one apology so I suppose it can't be all bad.

The Crackhead- Example: "I *twitch* think you're discriminating against me *twitch* on the basis of (insert age, color, religion, weight, other insanity here). I'm going to sue you *twitch* and own this whole building *twitch* then I'm going to fire you and then let's see you get another job *twitch*" I love this person. This person is usually obviously under the influence of something (drugs, alcohol, deity of choice, whatever) and wants for me desperately, and usually angrily, to understand how right they are (they usually aren't). My ideal response would be "I'm sorry, I tuned out the moment you told me you worked for Homeland Security and could have Obama fire me from Camp David." The appropriate hasn't got me fired response is " I am sorry that you feel that you have received bad customer service. Here is my superior's number and extension as well as the number for corporate. They will take all of your concerns seriously. Beyond that, your behavior is erratic and is disturbing other customers. I must ask you to stop." This has a success rate of roughly 15%. This shows that A) There are way too many crackheads in my area and B) You can't reason with a crackhead.

Mr/Ms Nothing Is My Fault- Example: " This is all your fault somehow! Yes, I'm sure I'm at the right location. No, I don't have any of my paperwork! It's your fault I left it at home. What do you mean you have none of my information? You must have lost it!" This individual, much like The Crackhead, cannot be reasoned with. It does not matter that I tracked down where this individual should be (which is 7 out of 10 times not my location. The other three times I will gladly own up to someone on our end screwing up somehow but roughly 25% of that deals with botched communication from the customer. I am still deciding if going with the narrowest or broadest idea of what the customer had in mind is the better option) and it was indeed not my location. It will somehow be my fault and much like Mr/Ms Educated, will waste just as much time before the problem is solved. My ideal response would be: " Wow, I can see your tonsils from here. You know what, screw procedure! I am going to violate every protocol that keeps your information and other people's information safe just because you, special snowflake, deserve whatever you want even if you can't prove who you are or how you paid for this service." The appropriate hasn't got me fired response is " I am sorry you feel an error has been made. I have none of the records associated with your account. This could be our error. Security precautions are in place to protect your information and that of other customers. Without appropriate ID or Paperwork, I cannot help you but I am willing to do what I can to rectify this situation." This response has a success rate of whatever phase the moon is in. It has varied from the customer calming down to the customer throwing a credit card at me (I nearly did get fired that day because I was two seconds from hopping over my counter and being an Antoine Dodson video on youtube somehow).

I am sure somehow this is worth Xp points, but I occasionally feel like I'm rolling 1's instead of 20's (or if you're GURPS inclined 18's instead of 3's). I thank whatever deity that covers this sort of thing for reminding me that very, very, very soon, I start grad school where it will be the same crap, different day, but at least it will be a different day. I hope this little experience will temper me from being these people when I have my 8 doctorates and prescription drug addiction that somehow interferes with my ability to remember that people who deal with cash might like to see ID's. If you folks will excuse me, I am going to go relax. I have to work in the morning and I had better be prepared with a smile because Smiling while debating on if setting a crackhead on fire will get me 10 to 20 is a mildly better option than Frowning with a can of gasoline, a hand full of matches, and a negotiator outside telling everyone to stay cool.

Lollapalooza 2010 or GaGa Blah Blah Blah

So another Lollapalooza has come and gone. Don't tell anyone, but I think I'm getting to old for this shit. Well some of it. I am still perfectly ok with paying 5 bucks for a smoothie. There is much I could talk about but I have to get something off my chest.

There is something wrong with Lady Gaga. Seriously. Note the picture to the right. This was the look on my face through out her whole concert. This picture may have been taken while we were helping her scare fame away. Somewhere around there it occurred to me that we were becoming more retarded every time she spoke to us.Of course, it is entirely possible she thought that we were functionally retarded and thought that yelling things like "You can do anything you want because You're a Superstar Little Monsters!" was encouraging instead of irritating( And Really Gaga, Why set the crowd up for a life time of disappointment? What happens when they discover that by anything you really mean that they can buy another one of your albums so You can do anything while they dream about touching one of your costumes?) Bitch, this isn't Dora the Motherfucking Explorer: "Ok Everyone, can you find my nipple tassels? Everybody cheer!" I didn't really understand why she wanted us to scare fame away for her because last time I checked, that's how she gets paid. Who am I to question her business model of Cocaine Induced costume changes lightly dusted with X induced dance scenes. We decided that to understand the Lady Gaga concert our drug usage had to be directly proportional to her own. We were surrounded by people weeping with joy and exclaiming how revolutionary she is.
Attention Bitches:
This shit was not revolutionary. It was mostly naked and writhing and I can see that on cinimax or whatever channel Martha Stewart is on these days.
Ghandi was revolutionary.
Malcolm X was revolutionary.
Fried Chicken changed my whole life.
If my whole life was changed by a Lady Gaga concert, I would need to seriously re-evaluate my path. At least fried chicken has nutritional value. The Gaga left me devoid emotionally and feeling a little dirty by the end. ( Here is a link of her screaming at us about the fame monster)

Well Little Monsters, I was going to write more but I don't want to sully the good name of Green Day by putting what I have to say about them next to the Fame Monster. If you Little Monsters will excuse me, I'm going to go find the Boulevard of Broken Dreams now.

Hello Anger, my old friend.

I originally planned to write nothing today. My plans have changed a touch because someone very thoughtfully ensured that I am pissed off at 1 am and 5 hours before I have to be up for more mind-numbing repetitive tasks.

Exhibit A: This is a profile at a dating website.
I used this dating website for a while. I deleted my original profile when one raving crazy wouldn't leave me alone. Alas, I still had friends on this website that would frequently send me links to their stuff on said website. Until a few hours ago, this profile sat entirely empty.In fact, until tonight, it didn't even have a picture. As you all can see, I decided to go with a very risque side of face, ear, and hair shot. It has the extra blurry on it to enhance the hotness. I decided, on a very bored whim (extra bored actually), to fill out one sentence on one of the sections of the profile.

That sentence was "I am gloriously flawed."

There was no good reason for it.

Unfortunately, the moment I did this, the site insisted upon me filling out the rest. The site is actually rather adamant about not only having one line. So I filled out the rest for kicks and giggles. As you all can see, the whole first section pretty much says that. Apparently it wasn't said plainly enough for some people but that's what I get for thinking I can write.

My Self-Summary

"This site doesn't like people that do not have much to say.
Don't they know that sometimes the best thing a person could say is nothing at all?
So, I will continue writing in this space to appease the great OKC gods in their servers.
A closed mouth gathers no foot and an empty profile attracts no idiots. "
(You all may notice this has been added to now if you click on the link above)

No wonder I did badly in critical method. My ability to say something without saying something is badly interpreted.

When asked about what I was doing with my life, I put up very real, very serious information:

What I’m doing with my life

Last time I said global domination. I think I should go with knitting this time.

I even made what I thought was a clever little joke since it's a dummy profile:

I’m really good at

answering the wrong question and making people think it has answered the right one.

I thought I was being clever but not clever enough for Sherlock Stones!

The first things people usually notice about me

I'm Nobody! Who are you?

Dear God! I'm putting myself out there like a red light district whore with all that quoting of Dickinson.

I spend a lot of time thinking about

Why is a raven like a writing desk? (I know the man who coined this particular riddle already answered it but I find myself thinking about it all the same.)

Perhaps Sherlock should ask why I might be thinking about that. There's a reason. In fact, Sherlock might be the one person on the whole planet that would understand, or at least that is what I thought.

If Sherlock had paid attention, Sherlock might have noticed that this was a profile full of old blog references, movie references, and jokes that only people that know me would get.

So why am I up explaining myself at 1:00 am?

HEY YOU! YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
I didn't deserve what you handed me. If you want to be mad at me about a myriad of other things, feel free. Don't paint me with your brush because it's easier to do that than deal with decisions that have been made.

******edited to add*****
Now that several hours have passed (and one mildly enlightening conversation), Carry on Folks. There is nothing to see here. If you folks will excuse me, I'm off to find a hard cider. 10 am is a perfect time for hard cider!

Happy

Hello there everyone!

As you all may have noticed, there was no blog yesterday.

I intended to blog about my trip to Chicago and especially about the sign I bought from the homeless guy. (Too ugly to prostitute)

Unfortunately, I have come down with a case of Happy.

It's a disgusting little disease. Even more disgusting than the horrifically bad news I got about the injury to my leg.

Symptoms include:
Smiling
Being Chipper
Forgetting that maiming idiots should be at the front of my thoughts
People saying "You sure seem to be in a good mood" (which also means if I end up in a bad mood about something people end up being confused)
Weight Loss!!!!!!!! (this is the only one I can get behind)

So sorry folks. I will have to post pictures of why I am so ridiuclously chipper later. If you folks will excuse me, I am off to spread joy, cheer, happiness. (it's contagious)

Stories from Chicago to follow

Sorry everyone! I have been entrusted with another employee at my job. Why anyone would do this is beyond me. What it means is that the Chicago blog has to wait until I am at home. I also can't find the sign I bought from a homeless guy and let me tell you it's not a trip to Chicago without buying signs from the homeless. If you will excuse me, I have to go be a model employee.

Asleep on the Job

Sorry Everyone! I'm asleep on the job. Originally, I planned to write the infamous Valentine's blog but I am perfectly content this year. As you all know, I can't write unless I am irritated about something. If I wrote a perfectly happy blog, the universe might collapse. I need for someone to do something stupid. Usually, I have someone on standby for that sort of thing but that would require for me to talk to him more than I am willing to at the moment. I try to keep mind-numbingly bad conversations to a minimum.

I have a trip to Chicago this week. Everyone pray a homeless guy pees on my shoes or something.

When the GM smiles...

As some of you know, I do a bit of role playing. For the purposes of people that know me better than others, I should specify that this blog is about table top gaming and not the other sort of roleplay (at least not this week). I am terribly new to being the GM of a game. It doesn't matter though. I have now felt the power of being a GM and let me tell anyone who might do a campaign with me, You never want to see me smile, laugh, or look confused.

Scenario: We have three players. One is playing a half elf half elemental half crazy entirely gay character from some sort of cult clan. We have one Dark elf that threw a fit because he couldn't be a drow.

Gay Dark Elf: I wanna be a Drow!
Non-Gay GM: Dude there are no Drow in this campaign. If you want to be an successful and attractive elf of color, fine, but there are no drow.
Gay Dark Elf: But I wanna be a Drow!
Non-Gay GM: You can't be a Drow if they don't exist here.
GDE: But Drow Drowity Drow blah blah blah way better than gay light elves Drow Drow Drow.
NGGM: Note to self- this character starts in the Lake of Burny Fire Stabby Things.

We have a player playing some sort of human ghost chasing monk (think ghost busters except he has a magic staff (pervs) ) and we have a ranger that is being played by someone that had no idea roleplaying could be table top gaming. When I asked her to Role play she got excited and started talking about how long she had waited for this day. She seemed disappointed when I handed her dice instead of a riding crop. She glanced at the books and immediately created a character more brilliant than any character I have ever created after the most painstaking of character creation sessions.

I thought that i would do a bit of pre-gaming so I could see where everyone would start. I thought that this would be more fun than just throwing everyone in a bar. What could possibly go wrong?

Everyone is visited by a vision. No one is on the same continent. None of the characters even know each other.

The Vision (everyone has it, they can't will save out of it, they are just dealing with this, the end): A woman appears. She is very pale. She has crystal blue eyes, hair so pale it's nearly white, and she's weeping blood. She is almost entirely shrouded in a cloak made of white feathers. She is holding a very ornate mirror. She is speaking in a language that no one has the ability to understand.(the rules lawyer in my group tried to get around it but since it's pre-game, it doesn't include his insane ability to get ghost elemental spirits to translate for him). She is advancing upon each person receiving this vision. What do they do? (I should mention that before this started that the phrase "Things are smelling a bit Deific (deity-ish whatever) was uttered as a helpful hint)

Drowboy says "Let's Kill her" seeming to forget none of them are on the same continent.

HalfElfHalfCrazy says "I think that if I check the Rule book I should be able to use my int modifer and take it times the 20 points I put in Lore, divided by my ability to summon elementals and take that all and add it to the speed of B.S.ology and I should be able to identify if she is an apparition or a deity of some sort."

Ghostbuster says: "Obviously she is a ghost since this is a vision and no harm can come to me" (Gm laughs uproariously)

Rangette says: Can I roll to see if I am getting drunk?

Our Lady of the Bleeding Eyes offers the mirror for a look.

Drowboy: "I think I should stab her instead."

HalfElfHalfCrazy says: "Since I took protection against possession I would like it to be known that no part of me looking in this mirror can open my body for possession"

GM says: Dude this is a fun pregaming exercise. I am not using the book. I just wanted to find a better way to decide where you started than "A ranger, a monk, and two gay elves walk into a bar..."
HalfElfHalfCrazy says: "Well I still think that since I had to put 15 points in unusual background that it should represent my devotion to the cult of Meshaine and part of her cult involves certain ceremonies that guard against possession as you can see in page 84 of my back story and on subsection 7 addendum d of my character sheet.
GM says: Ok Noted. ****HEHC rolls the appropriate number to spontaneously bleed from all of his pores. Wasn't really an option before that moment. Glad I thought of it.
HalfElfHalfCrazy says: Is this a mana rich environment because I took Mana Sense and if I don't get mana I will start to lose hp per turn and I want to know how this affected by my bleeding out right now.
Gm says: Dude, your turn's over, just bleed for a while.

Drowboy: If I were a Drow I would have already killed her.
GM: Let's step out of game for a moment, shall we Wandering Drow....You may have noticed that your counterpart here rolled and is now bleeding from every pore in his body. What makes you think that you can kill her?
Drowboy: Because Drow are totally kickass.
GM: *Weeps a bit for the future of America* All right, what do you want to do?
Drowboy: I'm going to look in the mirror, then Ill kill her.
GM: Oh, I'm sorry. You rolled a 6 (1d6 for this little exercise) You are minus half your health and have ancient runes burned into your skin over 90% of your body. That's probably a disadvantage of some sort, look it up.
Drowboy: That wouldn't have happened if I were a drow!
GM: And you wouldn't have happened if your mom had swallowed but you don't see me bitching do you now?

Rangette: Can I roll to see if I can get money for dancing topless on a bar?
GM: Sure but what about Our Lady of the Bleedy Eyes?
Rangette: Well I'm drunk right?
GM: Well yes...you're drinking and most likely drunk by this point...
Rangette: Well I probably shouldn't drink that shit again, I saw some fucked up stuff. I wanna dance with a dwarf! They are just the right height...everybody conga!
(I should add that Rangette might have been the smartest person out of the group)

Ghostbuster: Well this is interesting. Hello there Apparition! I should warn you that I have been trained in the arts of calming lost souls and storing them in my staff.
BleedyEyes: (If anyone could have understood her) No one is really scared of a dude with a "magic staff".
Random Non-about to kill random player Wights: That's what She said! Heeey!
Ghostbuster: Oh, Look a mirror!
GM: What do you do?
Ghostbuster: Well the only Logical thing! I take the mirror from her.
GM: .....You what?
GB: I take the mirror from her! Seems simple enough.
GM: My dove, let us step out of game for a moment. You have seen although not really seen what happened to these people when they had the most basic of interactions with her...and you want to what?
GB: She's just a ghost. I take the mirror.

This is where I must break. For people not in the know, I have been writing a story for the past 5 years that involves a couple gods. Now I figured since I was playing with people that do know me they might remember that I have a bit of a world destroying gods fetish.

GM: Hold on, I have to recalibrate what you have to roll for this as I had no system for "Decided to snatch an artifact from the hands of a god"
GB: You mean Ghost.
GM: Riiiight, So, suddenly another person is in the vision. He is very big and steps protectively in front of Our Lady of the Questionable Vision. He has a very big, very shiny, very stabby looking axe named Malediction.
HEHC: Oh oh oh oh! I need to roll on my lore knowledge! My people have heard tales of this axe!
GM: Would you shut up? You're bleeding out in your own vision. You aren't even *here*.
GB: Goody another ghost for me to purify!
GM: Wow dude, no.
GB: I am the righteous purifier of all restless spirits!
GM: LOL Why is eveyone so bent on dying?? ( GM decides the magic number needed to be 'olled is 3. 1 gets GB hacked up by the axe. 2 gets GB Hacked up by the Axe and then spit on for good measure. 4 gets GB hacked up by the axe, resurrected only to be set on fire then hacked up by the axe again. 5 gets GB hacked up by the axe then roasted over a fire with a hint of basil and eaten by an unsuspecting orphanage. 6 gets him a homeless drow that lives on the couch and appears to be suffering 3rd degree ancient rune burns over 90% of his body. Only three gets GB "deity has a sense of humor".
GB: *rolls a three*
GM: Seriously? You have got to be kidding!
GB: By what authority do you enter my dreams, you insignificant ghosts!
GM: Wow, just wow. This is not what I imagined. Ok....the dude with the Axe bigger than your whole body says "You're a nice kid. Give the Lady her mirror back".
GB: Why should I?
GM: Sigh, ok roll. What are the chances you can roll a three twice....holy crap another three...I should kill you out of spite!
GB: Who wha?
GM: You know what never mind
Rangette: You guys should come to the bar, Sanalind the half elf half halfing is doing a neat trick with something called an Elven Egg!

If you folks will excuse me, I am off to prepare for the actual campaign.I bet 5 bucks on Rangette being the only survivor.

Pre-Valentine's Day Fun For All Ages! (What he says vs What she hears part 2)

Originally, this was going to be titled something along the lines of "This Nigger said what?" or "Oh hell no, I can't believe this Lucky Charms Leprechaun just said this BullShit" Fortunately for the readership at hand that at just this very moment I have decided to change anything that I was going to write to another fun round of What He says vs What she hears! I have been going back and forth because I only really write on Saturdays now but I also do a traditional "Valentine's day is (insert word here)" Blog. So I guess everyone gets two blogs this weekend. Hurrah! (Last years blog seems to have been lost in a haze of vicodin. I can barely remember what I did last Valentine's day. Probably a good thing This blog will be Stabariffic(tm)* enough without me becomong decidedly more bitter since last time.)
*****It has come to my attention that my usage of the word stab is amusing and is being borrowed. That's fine so long as everyone remembers that I will cut a nigger FIRST. Thank you.**

He says: "Hey, good to see you"
She hears: "It's ok, everything's cool. This is nice. No knives are out. Everyone just be cool."

He says: "You don't look very comfortable."
She hears: "Great, just great. I thought we would be friends by this point! But no, you have to go and screw it up with your remembering of events!"

He says: "So, How's school?"
She hears: " You can still read right? I know you were generally an A student before but that might have changed in the amazingly long period of time that it has been since we last spoke."

He says: "I'm trying here"
She hears: "I'm trying right this second so it doesn't matter that I didn't before...bitch (for good measure since this is vivid Truth-o-vision(tm) )

He says: "You're looking a bit like you might stab me"
She hears "This is the first time I am going to be accurate with anything I have said in recent history!"

He says: *Absolutely nothing but looks a bit purple*
She hears: "Ok, maybe if I sprint now and then throw a chair in her path, she won't be able to catch me and we will never speak of this event again"

SHE says: "So umm how about that Superbowl?"
He hears: "Desperate Attempt at being polite. This is more than I am used to attempting so just go with it. I actually know nothing about or care about the super bowl but it has to be slightly less painful than this conversation."

He says: "Well the right team won and......(insert droning conversation about how the colt's aren't human and some other stuff)"
She hears: "OH THANK PIRATE JESUS! We aren't talking about anything that will get me stabbed...unless she's a colt's fan...oh crap WHAT IF SHE'S A COLT'S FAN! Wait when did I suddenly start caring about what anyone thinks? Ok now I'm back in the comfort zone"

He says : "Apparently, I'm an Asshole"
She hears: " I am definitely an Asshole"

She Says: "You know this near yelling match in front of Brunhilde the waitress is loads of fun. You know what would be more fun? Ice Cream!"
He hears: "The moment you step out of this building, your ass is mine motherfucker. See this spork? It's going in your jugular"

She says: "No really, Ice Cream. Either that or lots and lots of intoxicating beverages, you pick"
He hears: " *ALARM KLAXONS* THIS IS A TRAP!"

He says: "You seem a lot less stabby with ice cream."
She hears: "Wow if all it took was to calm your as down was sugar, next time I am showing up with a Kripsy Kreme and Snickers Salad."

He says: "Thanks for showing up"
She says: "No Problem, see you next week"

Now if you folks will excuse me, it is time for me to start the ritualistic day before Valentine's sacrifices. A brother could send a sister some flowers or something.

Keep it Secret. Keep it Safe.

Operation Hobbit-Fucker is a go. (Trust me folks, you don't want to know. I am 30 seconds from canceling it at any given moment so you may never know.)

Truth Tip of the Day: Googling "Hobbit-Fucker" at work will most likely get you strange but knowing looks from the customers. (GIS of this term pulls up this image : Linky Linky . Sox fans are a strange people.)

Many of you are probably confused as to why I am blogging about this. Good News Everyone! It's saving you all from the " I can't stand Silly White Girls" blog. ("Like OMG my fiancee is in like the military and like what if he wants me to move some place stupid like Afghanistan? I would just die! That would be so inconsiderate of him for not considering my needs and getting stationed in Canada!" I don't even support the troops most days and I know that little girl needs to be stabbed directly in the eye. There is so much wrong with that sentence that my brain cells spark and fizzle every time I try to start a blog about that.)

Operation H.F. will be a very short and hopefully painless operation. Much like Euthanasia except with BBQ sauce instead of happy go night night serum. The code word for this little shindig was Betrayal but apparently that's not very nice. I figure an operation has to have an edgy password like "Betrayal" or "Ho's in different area codes" or "Stabbycakes". My old school tactics are not welcome these days. Tough crowd out there, tough crowd.


In other unrelated news, I seek opinions. Would any of you be friends with someone that clearly finds you to be sub par? That seems like a bad idea to me. Apparently, all the hip young people are fine with this. Of course, they haven't been found to be lacking except for in common sense.
In my various traipsing through social circles, I have discovered that there is just no point in being friends with people you don't like well enough to pull a knife from their neck to let them mercifully bleed out. Thank goodness the minion is a much softer touch than I am. Two of us hating the universe would probably lead to another Malvo type situation where everyone assumes some white people took a dive off the deep end but really it's just two geeks with a paintball gun and a world of warcraft subscription.

If you all will excuse me, I am off to stab this better person I keep hearing about (Don't think she and I will ever meet. We are repelling each other much like two magnets on the wrong end do. I hear she has a pretty smile. I won't trade her for my rictus today.)

I'd Write You a Love Letter (This blog is actually about You)

I thought about writing you a love letter.
Quit Laughing!
I am perfectly capable of penning glorious sentiments.
I am also perfectly capable of stealing much better ones.

O, my luve's like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June.
O, my luve's like the melodie,
That's sweetly play'd in tune.

Hmmm, I am disturbed by this sentiment. My love really isn't that red. It definitely isn't rosey. I despise the month of June (my roses are never blooming then anyway).
My love is melodious only if one considers the great musical stylings of WHAM! and Prince to be the greatest expression of musical talent.

Perhaps I should choose another....
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

1. I haven't stabbed you to death yet.
2. There is nothing about you that can't be tolerated.
3. Still haven't stabbed you to death....
4. A lot of my points involve stabbing
5. I am not sure that counts as a romantic sentiment
6. I mean, I would be touched if someone told me "You know, you don't need a stabbing"
7. I wasn't touched when I was told that my composite score made up for my slightly less than perfect attractiveness score.
8. Not that I am bitter about that
9. And by not bitter I mean that I am thinking about stabby things.
10. Pretty sure this list is only going to get me sent to therapy...

Let's not go that route. Seems like a bad course of action. Left turn directly into another sentiment...

Don't you care for my love? she said bitterly.

I handed her the mirror, and said:
Please address these questions to the proper person!
Please make all requests to head-quarters!
In all matters of emotional importance
please approach the supreme authority direct! -

So I handed her the mirror.
And she would have broken it over my head,
but she caught sight of her own reflection
and that held her spellbound for two seconds
while I fled.

ABORT ABORT ABORT ****Too close to the truth! Initiate Immediate Emergency Shutdown! System failure imminent!

I almost got stuck in a loop there.

You rarely say the right thing
I miss you occasionally
Not all the time because that would make you vain and it would make me weak
I'm not a fan of the situation at hand at the moment
But we play the hand we've been dealt
One of us is winning but damned if I can figure out who
I don't believe in ties, which kinda sucks now that I think about it
I want to not celebrate Valentine's day like I did last year
This little missive probably won't reach you
I might as well be speaking Chinese
我要写信给你是驴子，但谷歌可以翻译句子。我不知道你关心不够翻译这句话。我还知道有一个词中的讽刺
(He he...the above sentence is actually hilarious. The Chinese word for sarcasm is fěng​cì​ by the way. Also 谷歌 Gǔ​gē​ means google. It's a sound equivalent. I am pretty stoked that I could see that without knowing the characters entirely. Also, Donkey is not what I had in mind but I am sure enterprising inidividuals will get the point)
Things that make little sense written down should probably not be put out where I keep my general thoughts.
Oh well, they are out there now. To post or not to Post? That is the question.
Actually the question is most likely something a bit more serious.
Do you care now that it's here?
It took me 3 hours to compose this nonsense so I am not even sure if I care anymore.
I vote we go get BBQ instead. Call me if you are interested.

If you folks will excuse me, I am off to be this better person I keep hearing about.
(For people actually interested in the translation try this link: http://us.mdbg.net/chindict/chindict.php?page=translate
*edited for appropriate link*

You're so Vain. I bet you think this Blog is about you.

(I don't drink coffee. Guess I have Typhoons in my Iced Tea.)

You're so vain. I bet you think this Blog is about you, Don't you?

I could write about my love or hate or annoyances and you would think it was about you.

I wonder why.

Do you think that your influence is so great that I spend every minute of my day climbing up the mountain that is your vanity? (I have enough of my own)

Tricks are for kids Trick.

Do you think that I won't meet your gaze with head held high? My eyes are shining steel and Honey let me tell you, you're no Mithril. I have already pierced through to see the inner you.

Do you think you can slow me down? Does a charging horse stop to deal with a trifling housefly?

In the words of the great philosopher Popeye, "I yam what I yam and that's all that I yam"

I've got this.

You've got the greatest prize of all! Yourself. To thine own self be true. Not that you have a problem with that.

Maybe you never noticed who I was. Maybe you never cared. Maybe it was too complicated.

Let me tell you a little about me.

I might stumble but I never fall.
I'm gloriously flawed.
I play careful but I bet it all.
I'll keep coming and coming and coming.
This fist is dainty but iron.
I've got diamonds in my eyes and rubies at my throat.
I have visions so vivid that even the sane see.

Whoopsy. I'm so vain. I bet this blog is about me. There's no room for you anymore. Bye Bye Sad Eyes.

Peace

Finally. Everyone loves a new beginning. Lucky for me, it's already started. One man's trash is apparently still another man's treasure.

What he says VS What she hears

Relationships are perfectly delightful creatures. They grow and eventually die just like everything else. It's just a matter of time really. I thought I might discuss one of the fun fun middle sections.

He Says : You're amazing but you're not the one for me.
She hears: You really aren't that amazing. Maybe amazingly annoying. Why are you still standing here?

He says: I really don't want to stop doing things with you.
She hears: I don't really want to cut off any possibility that my penis can enter some part of your body.

He says: We should think about it longer.
She hears: I am going to think about it until I find someone better.

He says: I'm probably a dick for feeling (insert feeling here)
She hears: I'm a dick but it's easier for me to call myself a dick than for you to call me one.

He says: I really can't see us doing anything long term.
She hears : Yeah, it was great but I am pretty sure I found someone better to screw around with. Won't cut the cord until I am sure though.

He says: I wasn't flirting with her.
She hears: I was flirting with her and now that you know I have to find a way to clean up what I was doing.

He says: Oh that crazy bitch? I barely know her. She is such a skank.
She hears: Yeah I still hit it. In fact I probably have in recent history. Remember when I told you I had to go out of town to help someone instead of keeping my plans with you? Yeah....sorry about that.

He says: I don't want to hurt you anymore.
She hears: It's easier to say this than admit I've lost interest.

He says: I'm too busy.
She hears: I've lost interest.

He says: I'll call you back.
She hears: I've lost interest.

He says: You're over-reacting
She hears: Thank God. If you get upset I can tell everyone else you had a crazy spell and not that I was a jackass.

She says: Screw this noise.
She says: Go ahead. Do better.
She says: If you think you can do better then I know I surely can.
She says: I also have a no backsies policy.
She says: If you will excuse me, I am off to have a glass of wine.

It's time for New Year's Lies!

This is a most holy time of year. This is the time of year that people will spend all day lying to themselves. It's a peculiar rite called "New Year's Resolutions".

How it works:
Prep work for this can start weeks and months before actual New Year's Day. People will start building themselves with what are popularly termed as white lies. "On New Year's, I am a changed person! I will no longer overeat. I will donate to charity. I will recycle. I can't wait! On New Year's day, a new ME is born!"

As it gets closer to New Year's , this practice gets louder and louder.

On New Year's Eve, People will have their last hurrah. If the resolution was to lose weight, they will pig out at a buffet. If it was to donate to charity, they will go blow money on hookers and blow. They feel entirely justified in these actions because they will be new people the next day.

New Year's Day will involve people cheerfully carrying about their new mandates as though they were a mantle of gold and silver. They will abhor all of their vices.

Then a week will pass.

Then another.

Then another.

Pretty soon things start to slip. Cheesecake here...No Dime to the March of Dimes there....and then the lies start.

"Oh well I had to eat that cake." or "I'll get St. Jude's later. I'm a little light this month."

By April, the resolutions are forgotten until roughly September. The cycle begins again.

Which brings me to the most important part of this missive.

My Resolutions! Ta Da!

In years past, I wrote one of these every year and reported if I actually maintained my resolutions. Sadly, my old site is gone and those missives are lost to the intertubes somewhere.

So 2010.....
1. I have 40 more lbs to lose. Actually being honest, I have slightly more than that to lose but not enough for me to break out a calculator and be exact.
2. I think I screwed myself out of one of the cum laudes so I will settle for the lowest cum laude I can graduate with. Magna? Summa? Hell if i remember.
3. There are a few more that can all be rolled into the category of "Fuck that Motherfucker". Sufficeth to say...yeah...Fuck all that noise. The best Revenge one can have is living well so I have been told. I am not so sure about that but it's a cute saying and we all know those are always right, right?

We'll see how it works out. It's in print now and I do try to keep my prevarications to a minimum.