2009 03 01 archive

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Everyone Loves Boobs

This one time in my 10th grade Spanish class, first thing in the morning, the portable was very cold. I had taken off my jacket and sat down in the chair as class started. About 20 minutes in the teacher lets us loose on our group work, and by now I had long since had both my arms in my shirt and folded across my chest in a vein attempt to keep them warm. It was then that the kid sitting to my right started giving me this puzzled stare, and he finally remarked “You have huge boobs, dude.” Now, given that this kid had seen me several times before I was surprised not only that he didn’t notice both of my arms disappearing accompanied the growth of my bosom, but also that he would be rude enough to say such a thing if I really were that fat. Someone else had to tell him my arms were in my shirt and all I could squeeze out was an affirming “Yeah..” People are interesting things, let me tell you.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Drink All Day, Play All Night

No that is not what we did while we were in Miami with Habitat for Humanity. Like in Mississippi a few months prior, we were actually very responsible and partook in landscaping, priming and semi-glossing walls, putting up drywall, tiling, and roofing. There was a little bit of lovin’ the lord thrown in there too, but that was kept to what us heathens would call a healthy minimum. There was, however, a rambling 20 minute devotion on thursday led by a Redd Foxx lookalike that I really wish I had videotaped. Highlights include calling America the most advanced country on Earth and giving Christ complete credit for us speaking English instead of “Chinese or Russian”.

When we got off work people generally took to passing out, reading a book (moi), showering, going for a swim, or just laying by the poolside to soak up some sun and get a sexy mocha complexion like mine. We weren’t the only ones at Camp Freedom working with H4H–there were some snotty Christians from Dartmouth College and some (mostly) simple-minded frat boys from the University of Illinois–but we did basically own that campground, regularly taking sole advantage of the camp’s recreational amenities. Hey, they took the good refrigerators that cool rather than freeze your food, so we get the pool and bonfire. It’s only fair.

I’d talk more about my time there but then this post would wind up being ungodly long, and I don’t want to waste the great potential a nine day ‘vacation’ has for generating posts all in one entry. What’s on the horizon, you ask? First off a purging of The Tome’s temporary caretakers, then embarrassing childhood stories, insulting improv, chongas, puppy doggies, and something we took to calling Red Light Specials. Stay classy!

The true Dirty Red Commie


Many moons ago within Woozie’s Complete profile, he described himself as a teen interested in politics who is not a communist but rather deems everything he hates communist. I’m sure this was a play off of the standard issue fear propagated through our “freedom” making machine. Local communists have been black listed, a neighboring island has been embargoed and the recruitment for wars have been fueled by the fear of the Evil Red Empire’s Desire to kill capitalism. The size of the IMC owes a lot to it but now it has a new axis to keep everything rolling along at full speed.

The goals of communism sound nice enough: Wiki -“Communism is a socioeconomic structure and political ideology that promotes the establishment of an egalitarian, classless, stateless society based on common ownership and control of the means of production and property in general…. a classless, stateless and oppression-free society where decisions on what to produce and what policies to pursue are made democratically.”

I’ve read the Communist Manifesto a few times and the general impression i gathered was that communists hate wealthy people. I’m about as poor as one can get in the US without being homeless and i know how easy it could be to fall into the trap of envying the well off so much that it would bread hate, especially those whom live in gated communities. And many of those that have “made it”, have done so by less than noble means, but many of them have worked hard for the success they enjoy. Communism, on the surface, sounds very humane, seeing as though all “should” have equal health care, educational opportunities, and shelter as a human right. However, to do so by growing the state to the size of a republic mammoth and deciding what accords to each ability, and what accords to his need, is insanely oppressive. I’ve happily lived in a van, a person needs not much…

Marx apparently never expressed what type of economic system would constitute a communist state, which i always found odd as a socioeconomic structure, especially when all the “communist” states that have or do exist, use Capitol.

I was doing a little research on alternative political structures when i came across Technocracy. It’s a “Social System” (a state – but they don’t like that term) that is ruled by Scientists. There are a few things about it i do like, such as common ownership of the energy and the natural resorses of a state. I like the out of the box idea for a means of exchange, an energy certificate 180, but a major flaw is that there could be no private transactions. From what i’ve read and watched Technocracy inc. sounds to me like what communism wanted to be. Does this mean that Woozie should call all he hates technatical???



Click here for all the dharma initiative instructional videos

been a pleasure

bitch be back sooner or later. i’m gone

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Calling the Faithful..



Friday, March 27, 2009

what the pigaligz r up 2 these days

Lovely Lady but bad feng shui


She sits too close to the doors.

Lord Omar prepares fish for Friday!

Now while this lovely brute isn’t exactly on the menu this evening, she was the result of a Google search I undertook in effort to find a picture for the main entr e I’ll be preparing which will be ‘Samak bi Khal’ or Lebanese marinated fish. Also for our dining pleasure I whipped up a homemade Hommous bi Tahini to go with my not-so-homemade Falafel, but to that Falafel mix I will add a secret family ingredient which of course I cannot disclose. To finish this meal we shall enjoy one of my fave red wines of late a very nice Italian Sangiovese. Yummy…
So while I await the arrival of my Queen, I just have one question, “Dont cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Dont cha, dont cha?”

Update! Update 2! Update 3!

Thursday, March 26, 2009

all done by hand



thirtee-seven years ago

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Monday, March 23, 2009

the nascent stirrings of art or incipient science?

From the Comment Generating Sweepstakes



Omar, Canada – 23

Uno/Hasem rder, Somewhere south – 9

Was there any doubt?

Sunday, March 22, 2009

a little travelling music, sam

From my patio..



..the true Face of God.

The face of god

‘spritzing’ is not the word

didju know you can ejaculate saliva directly from your salivary glands n2 the open air? yes u can. it’s just one of those things people do. i do it from time 2 time and i am always startled, always surprised. u never know when it’s going 2 happen.

there is even a word for it.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

If I had a Rocket Launcher..



..some son of a bitch would die.

Update

Come together and fuck like animals

Almost Forgot

Well, today is the day I begin my 18 hours straight on the road. First back to Ohio, and then from Ohio to Miami, and already I sort of regret going. Not because I don’t want to go; rather I just wish I had more time here. I thought four days would be enough, and I was very wrong.

But at any rate, I don’t know whether or not Camp Freedom (yes, that’s really what the church taking us in named it) has internet capabilities so you might not hear from me for a little while. Come to think of it, they’re not even cooking for us so they probably don’t even know what the internet is. I thought I would post this disclaimer so nobody assumes I’m somewhere in an alley blowing tricks for coke money. Besides, our spring break is noticeably later than most other schools’ so the Miami you see on MTV (why would you watch MTV?) is probably not going to be the Miami we see.

So, in the meantime I’ve invited everyone’s favorite fuckups to take the helm for the week. Will they accept the great power that comes with controlling an 18 year old’s internet obsession for one week? Tune in to find out!

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Valium is a Marvelous Thing

Who could forget Ted Haggard, the former evangelical pastor who made a brief-yet-very-awkward appearance in the 2006 documentary Jesus Camp and around the same time was caught with crystal meth and a male prostitute? Lord knows I couldn’t. This morning when I was browsing Fox News’ website for my daily dose of lol I came across the following headline: “Haggard, Wife to Appear on ‘Divorce Court’ Show”.

Unfortunately for my laugh box, Mrs. Haggard won’t be suing Mr. Haggard for $3000 in damages and ownership of the family dildo collection in front of a feisty, no-nonsense, middle aged black woman. Rather, on April 1st, they’re going to appear in an interview segment with whoever the Judge is now and talk about their marriage and how they’ve held it together through Mr. H’s drug-addled homosexual trysts that he terms a ‘lifetime problem’.

Given that I don’t even know the wife’s name I can’t really comment on the stability of their marriage that intensively. However, given that Teddy’s had a whole lifetime of same-sex attractions repressed by what he thinks are the teachings of Jesus (with some hard drugs thrown in there to spice things up apparently) I can safely say that the male half of that marriage is as healthy as D.C. is AIDS-free. The gay is not something anybody wishes for nor is it something that can be whisked away with a lotta prayer and a little luck; take a look at the failure rates for those heterosexuality boot camps run by various churches.

I don’t even know what to think of Ted Haggard anymore. What I do know though is I feel bad for the poor man’s wife. Can you imagine the look on her face when she read in the headlines, “Haggard Caught with Male Prostitute, Crystal Meth”? I’m picturing something along the lines of Eliot Spitzer’s wife during his resignation announcement last year. And to be going through this image revitalization campaign of her sexually confused husband’s, well, either I’m empathetic for her suffering or I pity her ignorance. Ted Haggard won’t be a changed man until he accepts other men into his life, simple as that.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Teddy Bears

Nowadays everybody’s talking about AIG, corporate greed, shameless bonuses, American stuff like that. For one reason or another people are supremely pissed about the insurance giant handing out $165 million in bonuses to its executives–the same executives who blindingly captained the ship into a hurricane–and everyone’s looking to Obama to bring the change and stop those millions from going out. After all, the only reason AIG is still in business is because of that $170 billion federal bailout that so many people were oddly against.

Public outrage over AIG’s handling of the bailout money is pretty remarkable, to say the least. The other day on CNN I saw one of their iReporters (fucking stupid name) with a camcorder, standing outside of the AIG corporate headquarters in NYC. He asked, “With a building that big and luxurious, it must be awfully expensive to work out of. Maybe they could save some money and downsize to a Jersey office park?”

Does the AIG situation look like a prime example of shallow corporate mismanagement and an example of wasteful spending? If you watch the news that’s exactly what it looks like. But when you consider the bigger executives only have $1/year salaries and make their actual money off of bonuses, and that most executives will only be getting bonuses of about $1000, and that $165 million is less than one percent of $170 billion, ask yourself: is it really that bad? AIG executives could stand to lose some of their bonus money, and those lavish parties/retreats they had a few months ago were a bit uncalled for, but less than one percent of their bailout money going to pay off contractually obligatory bonuses is hardly impetus for such a virulent populism that leads congressmen to call for ritual suicides.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Lies and Deceit

Remember how I told you that I was going to resume regular posting again? Okay, now remember how I told you that last Wednesday? Yeah. The title of that previous post is now suddenly clear as day, isn’t it?

As is becoming custom, my free time (and to a lesser extent my will to write) was consumed by other matters for the past half week. After he hit me in the temple with a drumstick I gang raped a man in the parking lot of the Center for Spiritual Growth and Social Justice, I made a moderately poor life choice related to Apples to Apples and Coors Light, fell asleep with another man in a third person’s bed (she was away for the weekend), spent an entire day on my ass playing Fallout 3 (finally), and spent all of last night with a gallon of purple drink that, at some point in the night, had something other than sugar, water, and purple added to it. Long story short I wound up kissing someone I’m not sure if I regret kissing or not*, but at that moment I enjoyed it and so did everyone else at the party. Leave it to me to bring the gay.

So, as I start studying for my exams (all of which are tomorrow), get ready for a day trip on Tuesday, and think up some posts for Wednesday through Saturday I ask, how was your week?

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

The Act You’ve Known For All These Years

Okay, so I heard on the grapevine that some of you were growing tired of sniffing my dick for a week straight. While I am flattered that you like my penis enough to hold your nose to if for a week, I only recall demanding that Mr. Limbaugh smell the smegma. Speaking of smegma, while I keep clean and thus don’t suffer from the cock cheese, some comrades at Ohio University beg to differ. For the lulz, of course. At least that’d better be what it’s for.

Anyway, yes, sex–in between the “Are You Nervous?” game and outright public molestation (and getting arrested, but that’s another story) we’ve collectively decided that the thought of smegma makes our stomachs curdle (at least it does his) and the sight of Rainbow Goldfish makes our anuses immediately loosen (at least it does mine). What kind of college student decides these sort of things when there’s work to be done, you ask? Well if you had to ask then you obviously don’t know anybody who’s ever gone to an institution of higher education.

While we were discussing two-week cumshots and other assorted faggotries ’round the lime green hookah, my paper on New York Governor David Paterson was not writing itself. But did carefree me give a fuck? Obviously not, because I did not start writing it until this past Sunday night–it was due Monday at 2. So naturally I stayed up all night and managed to hammer out seven pages on New York’s first black and first blind governor, finally finishing at 2 PM on Monday. And of course, there was a presentation aspect that I completely forgot about until I was on my way to class–twenty minutes late. I got up there, introduced myself by professing a love for prostitution (“sums up the quarter nicely” in the professor’s non-sarcastic words), and then rambled through a sort-of speech for 8 minutes. At the end of it all the guy in the FBI (Firm Believer In Jesus; I know the acronym doesn’t work) shirt looked visibly unnerved.

So where have I been since Monday, you ask? I’ve been enjoying my first few genuinely free nights in a long long time. Some spent with friends, others basking in the nurturing glow of Left 4 Dead. Of course finals are next week, and then it’s a few days of being back home followed up by a week in Miami. I’m sure in between all of that and lying on a bed of mulch with my ankles in the air (and pants *on*, unfortunately) I’ll find some time to post something every now and then. It’s nice to be back.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Sniff My Dick

I think that is one fact can be gleaned from the drama of the past few days, it is that the Republican Party is in a comical state of disarray. Where else but America would you see a political party chairman apologizing to an overweight, loud mouth, ex-drug addict AM radio talk show host over remarks the chairman said after the President’s Chief of Staff trolled the hell out of him? And where else but America would an overweight, loud mouth, ex-drug addict AM radio talk show host get enough influence to even merit acknowledgment from a party chairman?

Solidifying his status as nothing more than an attention whore, Limbaugh recently challenged President Obama to a debate on his radio show. He was even kind enough to offer to cover travel and security costs. But why a man busy trying to shove an agenda through an unfriendly legislature all the while keeping the public happy with his job performance would take even ten minutes out of his day to talk with an ass about ‘socialism’ is beyond me. Obama’s got things of actual consequence to be concerned with; Rush and his “15 million listeners” (most of whom probably don’t listen for more than ten minutes) weigh the economic welfare of the globe with the same amount of seriousness as they do this tempting question: “Do I buy Bud or Busch for the NASCAR race?”

Like anyone capable of an independent train of intelligent thought, I would be more than content if Rush Limbaugh came down with a tongue cancer that prevented him from ever talking again and lost his hands in a car accident on the way home from surgery so that he wouldn’t be able to write down his idiotic diatribes either. But since that will most likely not happen, you can feel free to do what I do and turn the dial to something else. Why not? 285 million other people aren’t listening in, either.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

An Involuntary Exercise In Masochism

Have you ever just wanted to make your mind shut the fuck up for a second? I know I have, especially as of late. I think about love far too much. Relationships I sort of think I would want but when I think about it more it just seems too weird to ever be feasible. Peculiar attractions I feel yet could never hope to explain. What other people think love is, and why so few people my age feel it. Without even knowing it I will drift away to that old tired thought of “is there anybody out there?”

Back in middle and high school, when most people started dabbling in their various attractions and asking their peers to this dance or to see that movie, I didn’t. I never felt that impulse. Ever. Not until this past summer did I really begin longing for anything resembling a surrogate half, a significant other, whatever you want to call it. Talk about being a fucking late bloomer. So here I am, the college student with zero relationship experience. I sure do know what I want, and I want to go after it so desperately, but I have no idea on how to go about getting it. Like, none. I get all these compliments about writing so well and crafting great arguments and having an old soul thrown at me, but all that seems horribly undermined by one frustratingly underdeveloped part of my personality. Other people are well-rounded, why not me?

A friend of mine with his own romantic woes pointed out the other day that any time either one of us talks about love, we get terribly depressed. “We should probably stop,” he says to me. And I try–believe me, I try–but without even knowing it I will drift away to thoughts of a wedding in the sky, and two people growing old together with not a care in the world but each other. I know it only remedies the symptom and not the illness, and I would dearly love for the illness to be gone, but in these tides of emotional exhaustion I’ll take what I can get. Brain, would you be so kind as to shut the fuck up for a minute and give me some peace?

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Culture Is The One Thing That Money Can’t Buy

In a movie he’s never seen, a character he’s never heard of said that there are only two kinds of people in the world: Beatles people and Elvis people. Now, Beatles people can like Elvis, and Elvis people can like Beatles, but nobody likes the two equally. And no, Tupac is not an acceptable option.

The unfortunate friend of mine (artist’s impression at right) who has never seen Pulp Fiction can be classified as neither an Elvis person nor a Beatles person since, in his words, he doesn’t really like either of them. The only two acts in the history of recorded music to sell more than one billion albums, and he doesn’t really like either of them. What does he like? The last song of his I remember hearing was “All Star”.

No friend of mine is going to consider Smash Mouth a quality band. Like me a scant few months ago, my friend is in need of a crash course in all things good music. I didn’t appreciate the work of The King until recently (yeah yeah Orhan, you were right, eat my dicks), but what I do know well is the fab four. My friend, he calls himself a lyricist, and he can’t appreciate John and George (and Paul, to a lesser extent)? Normally I wouldn’t be in such a position to tell someone they are uncultured, but damn man.

I could just hand him a copy of Sgt. Pepper and tell him to go to town, but that would be too easy and not enough fun. I rather like picking and choosing my favorites between songs, and assembling them in an order that I think flows well both musically and thematically. This morning I put together an hour of music hand picked for him, what he likes, and what everybody likes. Three songs I left out but would have otherwise included are the only three Beatles tracks he actually likes; “Let It Be”, “Hey Jude”, and “Yesterday”, the latter of which is not an appropriate lullaby! I’d love to show him more–turn him on, if you will–but we have to make baby steps first. And if this doesn’t do it for him, nothing will.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Just Another Mitt Romney Rant

They say that what the mind doesn’t know anything about, the mind is afraid of.

The other day I caught the tail end of Mitt Romney’s address at the American Conservative Union’s annual conference, CPAC. As I usually do with Mitt Romney speeches, I wasn’t giving the man my full attention because I was also busy strangling puppies. It helps control my rage and their yelps help muffle some of the more offensively stupid things he utters.

As I was making my way through my sixth Pomeranian, Mittens had a notable applause line. It was something about liberals (surprise, surprise) saying America “dictates” to other nations. Romney contended that liberals need to study their basic history better because America is the country that frees millions from dictators, not the country that tells other people what to do. I think “basic” is the operative word in the first part of that sentence.

In my high school history classes America’s behind-the-scenes dictatorial ways were as standard a part of the curriculum as the Great Depression and Reaganomics. People, even myself once upon a time, sometimes say the idea of an American Empire is bullshit because we don’t have an imperial power system and we don’t exercise direct control over other people. That is a terribly basic way of looking at things; the truth of the matter is the American Empire works through indirect influence and arm-twisting to achieve the motherland’s ends through damn near any means necessary. This has been an continuous and integral part of United States foreign policy since the days of William McKinley and the Spanish-American War. Any historian capable of reading and writing will not say otherwise. Sounds like a neomarxist intelligentsia conspiracy to trash America’s good name, right? Leave it to the freedom loving, God fearing conservapatriots of the United States to protect Lady Liberty’s good name.

I expect people like the stars of Jesus Camp to espouse red-white-and-blue-drenched sentiments like ‘America does not dictate, America frees’ but to hear it from the mouth of a prominent Republican and potential 2012 candidate is unnerving but unfortunately not unordinary. But what is odd is that after that line, the ballroom–filled with tie-wearing media members and professionals–stood up and began chanting “USA! USA! USA!” To see people in a professional environment partaking in the shenanigans of overall toting horse fuckers is puzzling at best and disturbing at worst to this east coast elitist. And those of us with some semblance of self-respect and self-control are deemed unpatriotic for not rising to our feet and joining in an idiotic chant with a gaggle of idiots. With behavior like this, is it any wonder the Republican Party is stumbling around headless?

I know plenty about the GOP, but I don’t know whether I should roll my eyes, shake my head in disapproval, be afraid, or just laugh my ass off. Either way, after the white collar conservatives and their plastic fingers cleared the room, and all the Mexicans came out of the woodwork to steam clean the now cummy floors (there’s nothing neoconservatives love more than America), I did relearn one very important fact: I fucking hate Mitt Romney.