Wednesday, November 19, 2008

No Business For You!

This is a blacklist for all of the people who donated to the amendment to prevent same-sex couples from entering into legally-recognized, monogamous, soul-crushing acquisitions and mergers--I'm sorry, "marriage."

http://antigayblacklist.com/

At best, the people on this list were confused about what the amendment was actually going to do--revoke a constitutionally-protected human right. At worst, they were, and probably still are, paranoid homophobes who think letting gays and lesbians marry will somehow cheapen heterosexual acquisitions and mergers--as if they weren't already, what with the rising divorce rates.

In either case, I'm definitely making it a point to stick it to them as much as I legally can.

Especially the ones who're NOT EVEN BASED IN CALIFORNIA! I'm looking at you, Utah! Back the hell off!

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

SIMP

I have decided that I'm going to give Governor Sarah Palin two nicknames--possibly more, if my readers have any suggestions. Unless of course they have better things to do with their time.

Regardless, both nicknames have been inspired by the following stories I read today, first with the Chronicle and then with Yahoo's editorials:

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/n/a/2008/10/22/politics/p065914D66.DTL

http://shine.yahoo.com/channel/beauty/yikes-sarah-palin-s-150-000-makeover-brought-to-you-by-the-republican-national-committee-293953/


This is un-frickin'-conscionable. I don't know about the rest of you, but this financial revelation shocked me so much that I almost gagged on my toast.

And, as I do not work for any party, I will speak my mind on this matter.

Readers, I wish I could be as lucky as Governor Palin. If I had $150,000, half of it would be in a money-market account, and the other would go towards paying my half of the rent for the next year or so. And I could probably work fewer hours and devote that time to writing books, publishing them on some pay-per-print website, and then researching how to start charitable organizations to help mange-afflicted dogs in South America. If I had that kind of money, I could probably think of several more ways to use it to make the world a better place.

That lipstick-wearing pitbull--I'm sorry, that woman gets a $150,000 hand-out from the supporters of the RNC (who ostensibly donated it to the CAMPAIGN) and spends it on expensive heels, boots, "skirt suits" (because heaven forefend any woman in politics should ever wear pants...) and hideous leather jackets that went out of style 20 years ago? Is this what the conservtive party stands for? Creating new Imelda Marcoses with delusions of grandeur? Or claiming ownership of the clothes when the expense is considerably more than they expected? Cripes!

In light of this revelation, I have decided that I will refer to her as Sarah Imelda Marcos Palin.

Or SIMP, for short.

If she not only has no idea what kind of position it is that she will be getting, and if she can't even keep united with the guy at the top of the ticket...

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/n/a/2008/10/22/politics/p065914D66.DTL

...goodness knows she probably had to simper enough to even get where she is right now.

Or, as one of my acquaintences succinctly put it, "A hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollars buys a lot of wink-wink, nudge-nudge."

Monday, October 13, 2008

Big Basket of Puppies

Well, not really, but it's a very interesting article on puppy-play behavior.

http://dsc.discovery.com/news/2008/10/09/puppies-play.html

A bit short, but interesting. And worth studying in further detail, had I the means and subjects. And animal psychology degree. That would help.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Same and Old

Forgive me for not posting anything yesterday--or don't, whatever--I was too busy living my life. I was too busy working for my money; too busy amusing myself with my friends and co-workers; too busy spending time with the people who matter to me.

One of my closest friends had a birthday yesterday.

But somehow, without my knowing it, somebody somewhere gave yesterday an unofficial, non-governmental holiday--"Patriot Day."

WTF?

Do not misunderstand--I am American, and I wouldn't trade my country for anywhere else (unless, of course, they could meet my excessively high standard of living, which they can't because I'm the first to admit that I am an annoyingly whiny perfectionist).

But I see no reason to label yesterday a "holiday." I see no reason to celebrate a day that our citizens were attacked and killed, any more than we celebrate the Kuwaiti babies killed to get us involved in the First Gulf War; or the military vessel that the Vietnamese attacked to get us involved in the Vietnam War; or whatever crap got us into the Korean War, also called "the Forgotten War" and for damn good reason; or the military base in Hawaii that that Japanese attacked to get us involved in WWII.

I also see no reason to name the alleged "holiday" something as vague as "Patriot Day"--unless of course it's a reference to the USA PATRIOT Act, which allows the government to spy on citizens without warrants.

The following speech comprises the best reason I will not vote for John McCain:

http://www.crooksandliars.com/2008/09/10/special-comment-on-the-gops-trademarking-of-september-11/#more-32693

And neither should any of you.

Be sure, there will be more on the subject of politics to come. Especially if somebody lights my fuse...

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Hello, Blogger!

This is the new spot. This will be the new base of my internet operations. Once my entries from my old site have been back-dated and added...

Blogger will be the New and Improved #1 Source for Ballistica Literature!

Tell your friends, family, neighbors, room-mates, significant others, and even dogs! I mean, why not?

And the morons? Prepare for more verbal backhanding. It'll be a long time coming.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Hiccups

I hate hiccups. There are not sufficient words in any language I know to describe their level of caused annoyance and frustration. It would be one thing if it were only annoyance and frustration. And even the embarrassment one feels, knowing your co-workers are aware of your hiccups (as they are not just loud, but also visibly shaking you as you try to make soup).

But do they have to be painful?

Do they really?

Do they have to rend your asophagus and throat to shreds every 20 seconds or less?

Do they have to sometimes make you feel like you're going to vomit up a lung at the most incovenient moment?

I swear, any so-called "intelligent designer" who would either allow this flaw to exist (or not fix it immediately) is either stupid, cruel or lazy. Or on drugs. And I don't condone drug-use on general principle.

Does anyone else have this problem with painful hiccups, or am I really some kind of freak? I mean, I don't even have wisdom teeth. At all. I think I've evolved beyond them, or something.

The annoyance, frustration and embarrassment I can handle. Or at least I remember handling them better when I was younger (and didn't have a job, with people who'd notice). But the pain is nearly enough to make me snap and scream and hiss and spit and attempt to do intense physical harm to everyone and/or everything in the general vicinity.

Not that I would. But it's gotten to the point where I should probably see my doctor. And I HATE having to do that unless it's absolutely necessary.

So, if I didn't before (and I can't say if I remember), I now officially hate hiccups.

About Work

Okay, I admit it - I have aspirations to be a writer, like Mark Twain or F. Scott Fitzgerald. I dislike my job, and would love nothing more than to switch to writing full-time, making my own hours, buying a nice big house in the suburbs for myself (and maybe my future dogs) and doing nothing but write, read and watch TV or Netflix DVDs.

And maybe play video games, once the Playstation 3 gets its backwards-compatible bugs worked out.

But I cannot afford said house in the suburbs, or any future dogs. Or a Playstation 1, let alone a Playstation 3.

And so I work. And I deal.

And life goes on, and part of me dies a little. But at least I have not given in to sloth.