Thursday, November 18, 2004
The Handicapped Bathroom.
O, handicapped bathroom, how I do love thee. Roomy, private oasis in the cubicle desert. Sanctuary. Here's why:
Enter, stretch your legs, close your eyes, and don't forget your book. There isn't even a handicapped person on this floor. It's your's for as long as you can hold it. Fully equipped with a safety bar on which you can hang your newspaper or behind which you can store your book as you prepare for a break that doesn't count. Wedge a roll of tp on top of it and take a nap.
And, lo and behold, your very own sink with, tilted and extra wide for easy washing Do your eyes play tricks or is that mirror especially flattering? Stop. Check yourself out and make sure. You have the time. And the space. And the privacy. Bathe your self with paper towels and lotion soap. Clean stains, check for blemishes. Stare at your hairy belly. No one can see and no one will bother you.
Handicapped bathroom, you are my Secret Garden. My path to Narnia. My Dutch attic where I hide from the management Nazis. I love you, handicapped bathroom, and I know I always will.
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O, handicapped bathroom, how I do love thee. Roomy, private oasis in the cubicle desert. Sanctuary. Here's why:
Enter, stretch your legs, close your eyes, and don't forget your book. There isn't even a handicapped person on this floor. It's your's for as long as you can hold it. Fully equipped with a safety bar on which you can hang your newspaper or behind which you can store your book as you prepare for a break that doesn't count. Wedge a roll of tp on top of it and take a nap.
And, lo and behold, your very own sink with, tilted and extra wide for easy washing Do your eyes play tricks or is that mirror especially flattering? Stop. Check yourself out and make sure. You have the time. And the space. And the privacy. Bathe your self with paper towels and lotion soap. Clean stains, check for blemishes. Stare at your hairy belly. No one can see and no one will bother you.
Handicapped bathroom, you are my Secret Garden. My path to Narnia. My Dutch attic where I hide from the management Nazis. I love you, handicapped bathroom, and I know I always will.
An exchange I heard between mother and son:
"Ok, now spell Above."
"A-B--VE."
"What?"
"V-E."
"You forgot a letter."
" . . . . M."
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"Ok, now spell Above."
"A-B--VE."
"What?"
"V-E."
"You forgot a letter."
" . . . . M."
I know that we must be ever vigilant. That we live in a world of Terrorism and we must take measures to be secure. But not at the cost of our rights and freedoms. Not at the cost of freedom of speech, asembly, privacy. I'd rather we were attacked again than lose our freedoms. I am more than willing to risk the lives of innocent New Yorkers, is what I'm saying.
A
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A
Shopping list definitions
Mayo: Spanish for May
Ketchup: What I will never do in my notebook
Crackers: A term for my mental state
Fish: A curmudgeonly old detective
Lemon: The opposite of Matthau
Broccoli: A bacteria that affects vegetables (see Ecoli)
Fries: A food higly associated with freedom
Sausages: To view some wise people (I Sau-sages)
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Mayo: Spanish for May
Ketchup: What I will never do in my notebook
Crackers: A term for my mental state
Fish: A curmudgeonly old detective
Lemon: The opposite of Matthau
Broccoli: A bacteria that affects vegetables (see Ecoli)
Fries: A food higly associated with freedom
Sausages: To view some wise people (I Sau-sages)
Monday, September 27, 2004
Just have to post something to get that depressing shit off the screen. Wow, what a downer. Anyway, I'm over it now and everything. Go ahead, slice away. Whatever.
Anyone ever watch Dead Like Me? Good show. Last weeks wasn't that great, but in almost every episode there is a moment of amazing reality. When a couple of characters are just talking at the kitchen table or something, the acting and dialogue and everything combine for a moment that just feels unbelievably real. Like I am watching two real people and not fictional characters. Pretty good.
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Anyone ever watch Dead Like Me? Good show. Last weeks wasn't that great, but in almost every episode there is a moment of amazing reality. When a couple of characters are just talking at the kitchen table or something, the acting and dialogue and everything combine for a moment that just feels unbelievably real. Like I am watching two real people and not fictional characters. Pretty good.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Well, that was fucking stupid
Today, I watched the video of U.S. contractor Eugene Armstrong getting beheaded. I don't know why except that I just felt like it was something I should watch. I can't say I'm glad I did. I've been sick and depressed since 9:30 am.
Eugene was in an orange jumpsuit. The terrorists were dressed all in black with masks on. One of them read loudly from a script in Arabic, while Eugene knelt in front of him, facing the camera, dressed in an orange jumpsuit and blindfolded with a piece of muslin. When he was done yelling, the terrorist pushed Eugene to the floor on his side. He then took out a knife and started cutting through Eugene's neck, using a sawing motion. Eugene screamed. He screamed until the knife sawed through his vocal cords, I guess, because then it suddenly stopped. I couldn't finish watching it.
I know why Eugene Armstrong went to Iraq. Eugene went to Iraq to work construction. He went there to make alot of money quickly to support his wife and kids. This poor bastard went there to help rebuild an infrastructure we destroyed. And now he is dead. An innocent civilian man rebuilding a country we destroyed for reasons that remain unclear, at best. A man who died so that a group of other men, men who lead our country, could realize their dreams of greed and revenge and religious conquest. This same group of men-of leaders-lied to the American public about why we were going and lie to themselves about the chances for victory.
American armed forces cannot beat these people, the children of Islam. They are willing to die, to send their children to die, for what they believe. They are fanatics who will not stop short of a Nuclear holocaust. That is the truth. If our leaders continue this Crusade, then they too are fanatics. Fanatics who care more for their money or their God then they do their people. That is the truth. The blood of Eugene Armstrong and all those who died before him and all those that are going to die, is on the hands of George W. Bush and Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld and Condoleeza Rice and any who support them. That is the truth. And now I have to believe, knowing what we now know, if you vote for George W. Bush in November, then that same blood is on your hands too. That is the truth.
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Today, I watched the video of U.S. contractor Eugene Armstrong getting beheaded. I don't know why except that I just felt like it was something I should watch. I can't say I'm glad I did. I've been sick and depressed since 9:30 am.
Eugene was in an orange jumpsuit. The terrorists were dressed all in black with masks on. One of them read loudly from a script in Arabic, while Eugene knelt in front of him, facing the camera, dressed in an orange jumpsuit and blindfolded with a piece of muslin. When he was done yelling, the terrorist pushed Eugene to the floor on his side. He then took out a knife and started cutting through Eugene's neck, using a sawing motion. Eugene screamed. He screamed until the knife sawed through his vocal cords, I guess, because then it suddenly stopped. I couldn't finish watching it.
I know why Eugene Armstrong went to Iraq. Eugene went to Iraq to work construction. He went there to make alot of money quickly to support his wife and kids. This poor bastard went there to help rebuild an infrastructure we destroyed. And now he is dead. An innocent civilian man rebuilding a country we destroyed for reasons that remain unclear, at best. A man who died so that a group of other men, men who lead our country, could realize their dreams of greed and revenge and religious conquest. This same group of men-of leaders-lied to the American public about why we were going and lie to themselves about the chances for victory.
American armed forces cannot beat these people, the children of Islam. They are willing to die, to send their children to die, for what they believe. They are fanatics who will not stop short of a Nuclear holocaust. That is the truth. If our leaders continue this Crusade, then they too are fanatics. Fanatics who care more for their money or their God then they do their people. That is the truth. The blood of Eugene Armstrong and all those who died before him and all those that are going to die, is on the hands of George W. Bush and Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld and Condoleeza Rice and any who support them. That is the truth. And now I have to believe, knowing what we now know, if you vote for George W. Bush in November, then that same blood is on your hands too. That is the truth.
Friday, September 03, 2004
Hey Everyone (anyone?). My good friend and Gaelic drumming sensation Gregg Thibodeau is featured this Saturday and Sunday at The Comedy Studio. Notice the wicked quip from the link above, too. That's comedy.
Check out a pick of Gregg right here.
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Check out a pick of Gregg right here.
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Reality TV
I don't like to talk about reality tv because everyone does but with the Bachelor, and that one with women in the outback competing for a man, and "Meet Your New Mommy," and especially the arranged marriage one "Married by America," I feel my hand is forced. So . . .
I'm going to make the sequel and it's going to be:
A bunch of women get let out to run around in a big corral. Then a bunch of men with blowguns will stand around it and shoot tranquilizer darts. Whoever they hit, they get to keep. They hit two or three, they have a harem and move to Utah.
Just to make it playful, we'll charge each man a buck to participate. Call it "Buy Mt Cunt For A Dollar."
Guaranteed hit.
P.S By the way, the sequel to "Meet Your New Mommy" will be called "Take My Wife, Please."
©
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I don't like to talk about reality tv because everyone does but with the Bachelor, and that one with women in the outback competing for a man, and "Meet Your New Mommy," and especially the arranged marriage one "Married by America," I feel my hand is forced. So . . .
I'm going to make the sequel and it's going to be:
A bunch of women get let out to run around in a big corral. Then a bunch of men with blowguns will stand around it and shoot tranquilizer darts. Whoever they hit, they get to keep. They hit two or three, they have a harem and move to Utah.
Just to make it playful, we'll charge each man a buck to participate. Call it "Buy Mt Cunt For A Dollar."
Guaranteed hit.
P.S By the way, the sequel to "Meet Your New Mommy" will be called "Take My Wife, Please."
©
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
Jesus and Buddha
Jesus and buddha were talking one day and Jesus said to Buddha, "The only way to reach heaven is for all people to recognize my suffering, and to understand that they are burdened with Original sin. That they are not able to attain the kingdom of heaven without my assent. Without that, they are damned."
"Well" said Buddha, "People must not suffer. They must try to walk the eightfold path, to attain wisdom, virtue, and powers of concentration. If they cannot, they will not be freed from the Earth, but will have to try again in another form."
"My kingdom will be shared with all those who recognize me as their one Lord and Savior, and to them will be given dominion over all of the beasts on Earth."
"People must realize that this world is a world shared by all beings, and that all beings on the Earth are equals," said Buddha.
"If people who are of the same gender lay together, they will not attain the kingdom of heaven. They will be damned for all eternity," said Jesus.
"People must find their own path to happiness in this regard. As long as their actions do not cause suffering to themselves or others, I say let them do what brings them peace," said Buddha.
"Well, you're fat," said Jesus.
©
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Jesus and buddha were talking one day and Jesus said to Buddha, "The only way to reach heaven is for all people to recognize my suffering, and to understand that they are burdened with Original sin. That they are not able to attain the kingdom of heaven without my assent. Without that, they are damned."
"Well" said Buddha, "People must not suffer. They must try to walk the eightfold path, to attain wisdom, virtue, and powers of concentration. If they cannot, they will not be freed from the Earth, but will have to try again in another form."
"My kingdom will be shared with all those who recognize me as their one Lord and Savior, and to them will be given dominion over all of the beasts on Earth."
"People must realize that this world is a world shared by all beings, and that all beings on the Earth are equals," said Buddha.
"If people who are of the same gender lay together, they will not attain the kingdom of heaven. They will be damned for all eternity," said Jesus.
"People must find their own path to happiness in this regard. As long as their actions do not cause suffering to themselves or others, I say let them do what brings them peace," said Buddha.
"Well, you're fat," said Jesus.
©
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
Such is the nature of the most interesting president of my lifetime
I watched Clinton's speech last night. It was amazing. As a speaker he is demonstrably deft and skillful. He spoke with emotion and intelligence. With humor and self-reflection. He spoke of hope and optimism and made me believe it. He said, "America works better when all people have a chance to live their dreams." As my girlfriend Dana said, "I don't even know what that means, but it sounds great." He had rhythm, he showed real emotion when he spoke of 9/11. He was self-deprecating. He was compassionate and understanding, strong and unyielding all in the same speech. I felt like it was the first time any politician actually spoke to me in years. And then this exchange took place:
(TV flashes a picture of an small, wrinkled, ancient woman standing in the front row and applauding)
D: Who's that?
Me:(giggling) He's bangin' her.
Shrug.
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I watched Clinton's speech last night. It was amazing. As a speaker he is demonstrably deft and skillful. He spoke with emotion and intelligence. With humor and self-reflection. He spoke of hope and optimism and made me believe it. He said, "America works better when all people have a chance to live their dreams." As my girlfriend Dana said, "I don't even know what that means, but it sounds great." He had rhythm, he showed real emotion when he spoke of 9/11. He was self-deprecating. He was compassionate and understanding, strong and unyielding all in the same speech. I felt like it was the first time any politician actually spoke to me in years. And then this exchange took place:
(TV flashes a picture of an small, wrinkled, ancient woman standing in the front row and applauding)
D: Who's that?
Me:(giggling) He's bangin' her.
Shrug.
