This is my front page. All comments here are screened; if you don't have my email address, you can drop me a line here. If I know your email address, I'll reply by email -- if not, I'll reply to your comment, and then rescreen both your comment and my reply.
It's also got every tag I have -- this is because my current LJ style doesn't include a tag index. (At least half of my participation on LJ is on my Treo. I chose this style because it loads quickly and it's still readable on a small screen.)
I'd tell you more about myself, but that's what my profile -- and the rest of my journal -- are for.
(I know, I know, late to the party again. Extra hours at work, and all that. But I've been dying for a chance to use this video clip, and it may be a long time before I have another opportunity.)
Seriously, weren't you the one talking about how your state ought to secede? Wasn't it you bitching about how all the Federal Government does is bleed us all dry? And yet, the moment some crisis comes along, there you are with your hand out. And not just for swine flu, either.
I'd be amused by your hypocrisy, if it weren't for the fact that you're actually in a position of power, and a couple of my friends live in Texas and have to put up with your sorry ass.
Normally, I don't believe in that pro-liar myth that claims that loose women deliberately get knocked up and then have abortions just because they like killing teh por defesnless unformed babby, but if I were a woman, I'd make a point of having sex without condoms in November, just so that I could have an abortion on January 18th. And not just one January 18th -- every January 18th. And I'd do it just for you, scumbag -- I'd even name the soon-to-be-removed clump of tissue after you.
Fuck you, and fuck your rhetoric. If you truly gave a shit about human life, you wouldn't have started a war on trumped-up evidence for personal reasons -- you don't get to claim to respect the "Sanctity of Human Life" after pulling that kind of bullshit.
It's people like you that make me hope that a certain so-called "conscience clause" gets shoved very far up the rectal openings of the people who wrote it, especially when people like you think that claiming that it's your right to have a conscience should let you get away with "accidentally" removing several women's IUDs and then lecturing them on their birth control methods. I hope you get your ass sued off, I hope you get sacked, and I hope you never work in medicine again. Hell, I hope you never even find work as an elementary school nurse.
You poor, poor bastard. Considering that your character helps "deliver" a baby in one of the later books (for some value of the word "deliver"), you realize this is only going to get worse, right?
You poor, stupid bastard. Or poor, crazy bastard. I'm not sure which. Do yourself a favor and step away from the glittery kool-aid while you still can! Once you take your first steps on the sparkly path, forever will it dominate your career destiny!
We were supposed to be the cool state. You know, the one full of Liberals, the open-minded ones, the ones who felt all smug and superior to those "other states" full of people who still think that "nigger" is an appropriate form of address for a black person. "Oh, we're better than that," we'd say, as we pat ourselves on the back.
I'd better not hear any of that shit today, because while some of us do apparently get it, we're outnumbered by the same kind of bigot we make fun of other states for including -- and those bigots live in our state, too. Today, we are one of those "other states."
If you voted yes on 8, it's possible that you were horribly misled -- a lot of churches were lying their asses off about its content, and the intent of the people opposing it. (Isn't there something in the Bible about that, like, Exodus 20:16? I'm pretty sure that this counts as "bearing false witness.") More likely, you're a backward fucking bigot, and you're also a fucking crybaby who screams "oppression!" every time a gay person has the temerity to remind you that they actually do exist. You remind me of a spoiled child with a whole bunch of lollipops, who's just been told that he has to share a couple of them with "those other kids," and responded by throwing a fit -- and I want to take you over my knee with a belt and then throw all your lollipops down a sewer grate. You want something to cry about? There you go!
Yes, I'm taking this personally. Sure, I'm mostly straight, and I'm not the type to settle down and get married at all, let alone to a man, but I'm still just gay enough that I count as one of those people you view as less-than-human. Let me assure you, right now the feeling is fucking mutual.
I can hope that the California Supreme Court shoots 8 down. Hell, I can hope that the US Supreme Court will one day shoot it down. Still, the fact remains that we should have done the right thing on our own, and not enough of us did... and of course, you stupid bigot assholes in this state will no doubt go into your usual chant of "activist judges, activist judges," with a side order of "help, help, I'm being oppressed!" Never mind that you seem to have no problem with activist judges when they're just as ignorant and backward as you. Fucking hypocrites.
For those of you who recognized proposition 8 for what it was, and voted against it... let's not give up on fighting it. We lost this battle, but the war must continue. This bit of hatred that just got scotch-taped to our Constitution is a stain on our honor -- on all of our honor -- for as long as it remains there.
You've had your fun for eight years, and left behind a huge mess. Now that your term is in its death agonies, is it too much to hope that you might let it end gracefully, rather than seeing how much worse you can fuck us all over in its final days?
Yeah, it probably is. You may be well on your way to becoming the former President of the United States, but you'll always be a pigfucker. You clearly have no idea how to be anything else.
Is it really that much trouble to put the damn toilet seat down after taking a leak?
Dear women,
Is it really that much trouble to check the position of the damn toilet seat before sitting down?
Dear men and women,
It's just a toilet seat. It's not abortion, it's not gay marriage, it's not slavery, and it's not a tax increase. It's a fuckin' toilet seat. There are things that are worth this level of drama. Is a toilet seat really one of them?
One: The phrase "I'm going to Hell for this" is not, as you assume, a statement that I believe in Hell, nor a confession that I believe I'm going to go there. It's just me making light of something I'm about to say that might be considered by some to be offensive or blasphemous.
Two: "Goddamned" is not, as you assume, a qualifier indicating that I believe something to be eternally condemned by the One True (nonexistent) Creator. From the mouths of some people, it is not taking the (nonexistent) Lord's name in vain, merely an expletive. If I refer to "that fucking computer," surely you don't believe that I'm suggesting the computer is having sex?
Three: When I say I don't believe in God, that is not a confession that I believe there is a God, and I just refuse to believe in him. I just say it that way because it's shorter than "I do not believe that there is any supreme being," and for most people, it gets the general idea across.
Four: You can believe that I'm not truly an atheist all you want, based on my choices of expressions. I don't care. You and your stupid-ass semantic fluff-picking can go straight to Hell, and you may interpret that however you wish. In any case, you can get out of my nonreligion, as you're making us look like twatmonkeys.
The music in the background is Stravinsky: The Firebird, and The Rite of Spring. You're welcome.
Now, on to more important matters. You are the third person who's emailed me these particular clips, asking me what the music in the background was.
Look. I'm delighted to help you get into Classical music, really. I really wish, though, that your first taste of Shostakovich wasn't a creepy gay bondage porno trailer, and I really wish that your first taste of Stravinsky wasn't really bad P2P'ed creepy gay bondage porno. Couldn't your first exposure to Stravinsky have been Fantasia? That's how most people first discover The Rite of Spring -- why not you?
I'm also really annoyed that I've had to watch these clips to tell you all this. I feel like I now know more about your kinks than I have a right to. Further, you've tainted my enjoyment of a few of my favorite symphonies.
If you do this to me again, I swear I'll lock you to your bed with your own handcuffs without the slightest romantic intent, then copy all of my Russian Classical collection to your computer and force you to listen to it, all the way through without a break. At the moment, that's about nineteen hours of glorious, glorious music to torture you with bring some culture into your life. Doesn't that sound lovely?
(I swear, if someone out there has used Rachmaninov's Isle of the Dead (part I, part II) as a porno soundtrack, THERE WILL BE WORDS. I doubt it's happened, as the piece is depressing as hell, but you never know...)
Firstly, may I congratulate you on both knowing how to spell the word "ferret" correctly, and your most fortunate timing. Clearly you were the first person to get an LJ named "the ferret," and as a result you got first dibs on the correct spelling. This forced people who came after you who also wanted to be known as "the ferret" to go with extra underscores, numbers tacked on the end, or creative spellings. (Tacking an extra T on the end, for example.) But hey, that's their problem.
Well, usually.
Secondly, oops. Fixed now. Judging from your userinfo, it's a common misunderstanding, but I'm not claiming that as an excuse. I goofed.
Since a lot of you are out to invite theferrett (spelled with two Ts on the end) to a barbeque, you should be very careful with the spelling. Yes, I know. Your mental spellchecker automatically spelled "ferret" with one T, i.e. correctly. I made the same mistake, and fixed it as soon as I was aware I'd made it.
Just be careful, is all I'm saying. We've already broken out the tar and feathers. Let's not hit innocent bystanders with the tar, okay?
In the time I've been sexually active, I've touched a lot of women's breasts. And, well, other places. Would you like to hear my secret? Would you? Wouldja, wouldja, wouldja?
Of course you would -- you would never have come up with the Open-Source Boob Project otherwise.
In general, I try to be worthy of the honor. I have good social skills, at least sometimes. I recognize that women have standards, and I try to live up to them. But perhaps most importantly, I try to be a fuckin' gentleman. This means, among other things, that I do not assume that I have an inherent right to touch women's bodies, especially in their intimate places. I recognize that a woman's body belongs to her, and only her, and that she may share it on whatever terms she deems fit. Little things like respect. You'd be amazed at how far they get you.
In short, I'm allowed to touch some -- I repeat: some! -- women's bodies, including their breasts, in part because I am nothing like you!
You've edited your post a few times, so you appear to be teachable at least, but merciful fucking Christ!
I can't believe you gave that no-talent misogynist thug-life-glorifying hack Fifty Cent a conductor's baton for your stupid fucking Vitamin Water ad. Please tell me you at least had a Viking Funeral for the baton afterward, because verily, Fifty Cent is made of such concentrated fail that the baton was probably begging to be euthanized after he touched it, never mind after he was done using it.
Couldn't you have used Bugs Bunny instead? Even if he's a cartoon character, he'd have done a much better job!
Thank you for listening to your shitty music on your headphones while you were on the train last night. Unfortunately, when you insist on singing along (for want of a better verb), you rather defeat the point of using headphones. Thanks to you, I now know far more about "ghetto boy-ees, ghetto boy-ees, ghetto boy-ees," the inside of prison, bitches, hos, sluts, crack, smack, and "beatin' on snitches" than I did before you ever crossed my path -- indeed, more than I ever cared to know. All this time, I thought a snitch was a little gold flying thing from a children's book series. Now, I know what a snitch truly is: any victim of a violent crime who calls the police!
(Someone, please tell me I've misinterpreted this.)
Oh, and scowling at me was completely uncalled for. One: all I did was get up, stand next to you, and sing out loud while I listen to my headphones, which is the same damned thing you were doing. Two: Devin Townsend actually has musical talent and a sense of humor, and as a bonus, happens not to be a self-aggrandizing fucktard misogynist glorifying thug life. Three: I was listening to Penderecki's second violin concerto before you came along; it was your fault I changed CDs. Four: you were singing your offensive lyrics out loud because you're an asshole; I was singing my offensive lyrics out loud because I was trying to make a point.
See? I made my point. As soon as you stopped, so did I. Then I sat back down. There was no need to scowl menacingly at me! I wasn't dissing you or anything!
I'm a professional bad example... or at least, I would be if I could get paid for pulling stunts like this. My actions here were a triumph of annoyance over common sense. I was lucky I didn't get into a fight over this. If I do it again, I may not be so lucky. If you do it, you may not be so lucky.
Seriously. Don't try stupid shit like this. Or if you really must, be aware of the risks.
I'm starting to suspect that you all are actually very close friends, and are conspiring in a grand piece of performance art for your own amusement. All of the other possible explanations for the explosion of drama involving the three of you, and your respective comms, are just too goddamned fucking stupid for words.
For those of you who have no idea what I'm babbling about... it all started with this post, in which someone compares the use of epithets like "moo," "duh," and "crotchdropping" to the use of epithets like "freetard." An excellent post, but it gets buried in wank in record time. Then, the snots get into an argument with commanderd, and are eventually banned from cf_debate.
As a result of the banning, the Snots are understandably butthurt. Or proud, I don't know which. It starts snowballing. And now, it seems like it's about to be taken in front of a "judge" in internetscourt, which I imagine to be a com for RPG fans on crack who loved Judge Wapner as children.
I'm a member of both the stupid_free coms, and the child_free coms, so I'm staying the fuck out of this. Besides, I have a job I could be going to, a guitar I'm still trying to relearn how to play, old calculus and discrete math books I could be brushing up on, a book on PHP I could be reading, iron I could be pumping, friends I could be visiting, "friends" I could be "visiting"... in short, I have enough of a life that just following the drama will be difficult, let alone participating in it.
Besides, I see your little game for what it is :-). I'm sure that all three of you are passing e-mails like crazy, planning what direction the drama will take next, and snickering at the people who are picking up the ball when one of you drops it. I bet all three of you high-fived each other when internetscourt got involved.
At least, that's what I'm pretending. If I believed that all of this drama was genuine, I'd probably lose respect for one or more of you, and I wouldn't know which. And figuring out which would take too damned much work.
I'd like you to meet [Martin]. He's a gay friend of mine. Aside from not lithping and thwishing and being thtereotypically effeminate, he's your worst nightmare. He thinks about teh hawt ghey buttsecks all the time. He's a good-looking dude, and very well-built, so he attracts lots of opportunities for teh hawt ghey buttsecks. He's also an incredibly horny bastard¹, so he generally avails himself of every opportunity he gets. I could go on, but I think I've established that he thinks about teh hawt ghey buttsecks an awful lot. Have I accomplished this? Good.
The Old Testament is filled with prohibitions against all kinds of behavior, and yet, you pretty much ignore them all, except for Leviticus 20:13. That one, you push with great zeal, even desperation. This leads me to believe that you people are more obsessed with teh hawt ghey buttsecks than [Martin] is. Well, he's gay and testosterone-addled. What's your excuse?
(I really need to stop reading FSTDT. It's bad for my blood pressure.)
This was the person who first warned me that if I got into bodybuilding, my libido would go through the roof. At the time, I didn't quite believe him. In retrospect, he was obviously speaking from experience.
We sell electronics. While we do train our employees, a certain minimum of base technical knowledge is still useful. For instance, our job application form, which is entirely online at our website. Back when we had internet terminals at work, I occasionally had to coach applicants regarding the form -- I can understand this. On the other hand, if I have to coach you over the phone on how to use your damned web browser to get to our website, let alone find the link to the form, you're probably wasting your time applying.
Yes, I know. Our colleagues at another store were stupid enough to let you apply for a credit card with only one form of ID. Now, you want to have us use that credit card number, without seeing the card, and without a second form of ID, to buy four PS2 and three XBoxes? Golly, that doesn't look even remotely suspicious! (Really, do I look that stupid?)
Yes, that regular customer of yours is very nice, and looks damned good for her age. Still, perving over her while she's toy-shopping with her grandkids is probably bad form. Oh, well. At least you did it very discreetly.
I'm honored that you asked me to your place together, really. While you two had all the subtlety of a nuclear strike -- seriously, do you usually try to pick up random guys you see on BART? -- it's still easily the best offer I've gotten all month. Considering I've spent a major chunk of this month depressed, you've done wonders for my morale. I really wish I could return the favor. Believe me, if I weren't straight...
I am amazed, and a little ashamed, that I finally saw something in one of your advertisements that I'd actually want to eat. Unfortunately, the whole point of your ad seems to be that you'll never actually make it, which is a shame. I could really go for a "Double Hellraiser with Cheese" right now...
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hopeful