April 24, 2003
I don't celebrate Easter, but I did miss not getting a basket this year. My roomie sent me this link today, it's better than any basket I could've received!
April 21, 2003
Perfection Surprise
I have several scenarios in my head of what would make for a perfect day, but Friday proved to be unexpectedly sublime. I went down to the Santa Cruz Boardwalk with my roomie and a friend of his who was visiting from Mexico. We rode nauseating rides, ate greasy carnival food, played in the arcade until we had accumulated 550 tickets (which we gave to a little boy because none of the prizes interested us), and got fake tattoos. We got home around 6pm and started getting ready for The Faint at the Fillmore. They were outstanding! The sound was clear, and the crowd was colorful and energetic. After the show we ventured out to the steamy atmosphere of The Hustler Club where I received my first, second, and third lapdance. Most of the girls were bland but two were remarkable. Check out Lexie and Madison next time you're there, these smokin' little ladies wiggle like nobody's biz.
I have several scenarios in my head of what would make for a perfect day, but Friday proved to be unexpectedly sublime. I went down to the Santa Cruz Boardwalk with my roomie and a friend of his who was visiting from Mexico. We rode nauseating rides, ate greasy carnival food, played in the arcade until we had accumulated 550 tickets (which we gave to a little boy because none of the prizes interested us), and got fake tattoos. We got home around 6pm and started getting ready for The Faint at the Fillmore. They were outstanding! The sound was clear, and the crowd was colorful and energetic. After the show we ventured out to the steamy atmosphere of The Hustler Club where I received my first, second, and third lapdance. Most of the girls were bland but two were remarkable. Check out Lexie and Madison next time you're there, these smokin' little ladies wiggle like nobody's biz.
Believe It or Not!
Sunday afternoon yours truly was playing in 9 FEET of water. My sweet, patient, caring friend took me out to Strawberry Canyon Rec Center in Berkeley and spent 90 minutes in a pool with my freaky, water phobic ass. I learned how to move my legs better while swimming, I was more relaxed in treading water, AND I put my head under water without holding my nose. I'm still need lots of work on the whole holding my breath and blowing out through my nose stuff, but I am really proud of my little advancement. Next item on my packing list; a snorkel set!
Sunday afternoon yours truly was playing in 9 FEET of water. My sweet, patient, caring friend took me out to Strawberry Canyon Rec Center in Berkeley and spent 90 minutes in a pool with my freaky, water phobic ass. I learned how to move my legs better while swimming, I was more relaxed in treading water, AND I put my head under water without holding my nose. I'm still need lots of work on the whole holding my breath and blowing out through my nose stuff, but I am really proud of my little advancement. Next item on my packing list; a snorkel set!
April 14, 2003
High Schoolesque Adventure
I went down to L.A. this weekend to see a friend of a friend’s band perform at the Hard Rock Café. I felt like a teenager again, piling in a van to go see a local band, mixing my booze with a bottled beverage, sneaking around a neighborhood at four in the morning, and lots, and lots, and lots of laughs!
Her Majesty’s Top 10 From Kiss the Girl in L.A.
#10 Being a Trendsetter
Saturday I was severely sleep deprived, but decided to stay and extra day for the spontaneous adventure. I left the hotel for brunch while in my jammies, and later on visited the Getty Museum and had dinner still in my jammies. Don't be surprised when this new trend goes global.
#9 Our Moving Violation
You find ways of amusing yourself on a six-hour road trip. While the Beastie Boys were blasting, the boys in the van started head banging, which escalated into slamming into each other, and from there became bodies leaping over seats, bodies being pushed over seats, choke holds, and multiple middle fingers aimed at the video camera.
#8 Getting Back to Basics
In an effort to keep weekend costs to a minimum, my friend and I bought a fifth of tequila and walked around a neighborhood close to the venue, mixing the hooch with lemon-lime mineral water rather than buying over-priced cocktails at the bar. I had flashbacks of sneaking out of my room in tenth grade and drinking Southern Comfort at the bus stop.
#7 The Desperate Dressing Room Impromptu
We ran into traffic on the way in to L.A. so we were denied the luxury of stopping by the hotel before the show to get beautiful. In overalls with a dew rag on my head, this white girl needed to primp! My friend and I popped in to the bathroom of the near by Bed Bath and Beyond and spent about an hour styling our hair, painting our faces, and selecting our wardrobe. Can we now add resourceful to our resumes?
#6 The Heartfelt Offer
A guy at Hard Rock was wearing a t-shirt that read “I’ll do what your last boyfriend wouldn’t”. My tipsy self scrambled over and whispered what my last boyfriend, The Brit’s, objection was. He offered to take me to his truck, and later offered his brother’s services as well. I declined but thanked him for the sentiment.
#5 Sign of the Times
We stopped at a Foster’s Freeze on the way home and although our frozen treats were sugary satisfaction, the mood of the van was left sour after seeing the flyer that was taped to the drive-through window. It was a promotion for David Coverdale announcing his performance in a Wal*mart parking lot the previous afternoon. To add to the humiliation, under his name in parenthesis they squeezed in (singer of Whitesnake). His manager is the devil!
#4 The Clever Play on Words
We were in the van talking about the stiffness that one gets from too much computer use and someone thought it was called corpol tunnel. Immediately Robert launches into character. He starts shouting with a perfect drill sergeant tone, “I am Corporal Tunnel! I am going to put you in a world of pain! Click the mouse! Repeat! Repeat! Repeat!”
#3 Terrorizing Suburbia
So after the band performed Friday night we went back and partied in the hotel room for a while. Around 3:30 Jack asked if I want to go for a walk and we ended up wandering around a suburban neighborhood in search of something to claim as a souvenir. I was hoping to find a groovy little lawn gnome. The best we could do was a two foot, American flag patterned pin wheel. Over the weekend it made it’s way to the top of our mini van, into the hotel pool, and finally resting in the median about a block away from it's original yard.
#2 The Tuber Puns
On our way home Sunday we stopped in the middle of nowhere for lunch. This place could have just as easily been found in the mid-west. The tabletop surface was covered with pictures of firearms and the waitresses still donned big bangs. After looking at the menu Jamie blurts out that ‘country potatoes’ sounds like a good name for a band. Jack sang, “Mamas don’t let your babies grow up to be french fries”. I added in a Southern accent, “Howdy we’re the Country Potatoes. We’re from Idaho and I’m Russ. Join us in welcoming our bassist, he’s new, and never mind our pothead drummer he’s probably baked”. We were howling!
#1 Mobile Directing
The seating arrangement for the ride home was me sitting in the last seat of the van with Jack, Robert in the middle seat with Shawn, Jamie in the passenger seat, and his girlfriend Danielle driving. Robert had a great idea for a skit so we sat the camera on the dashboard facing back, and hit record. It starts with the focus on Jack and I smooching in the back. Seconds later Danielle and Jamie lean in for a quick peck. Shawn and Robert note the little smooch. They then turn around and look at us kissing, and face forward again. Simultaneously Shawn and Robert make eye contact with each other and lean in for a passionate kiss. Robert noted the caption should read 'Kiss the girl ?'
Okay the real #1 is the show of course. Our boys rocked the cafe hard! They had the most fans, the closest to the stage fans, and they're music was simply the best!
Pictures are on your Majesty's photo page and we should have the edited footage of the trip in the near future. Until then this is Your Majesty saying rock out and roll on!
I went down to L.A. this weekend to see a friend of a friend’s band perform at the Hard Rock Café. I felt like a teenager again, piling in a van to go see a local band, mixing my booze with a bottled beverage, sneaking around a neighborhood at four in the morning, and lots, and lots, and lots of laughs!
Her Majesty’s Top 10 From Kiss the Girl in L.A.
#10 Being a Trendsetter
Saturday I was severely sleep deprived, but decided to stay and extra day for the spontaneous adventure. I left the hotel for brunch while in my jammies, and later on visited the Getty Museum and had dinner still in my jammies. Don't be surprised when this new trend goes global.
#9 Our Moving Violation
You find ways of amusing yourself on a six-hour road trip. While the Beastie Boys were blasting, the boys in the van started head banging, which escalated into slamming into each other, and from there became bodies leaping over seats, bodies being pushed over seats, choke holds, and multiple middle fingers aimed at the video camera.
#8 Getting Back to Basics
In an effort to keep weekend costs to a minimum, my friend and I bought a fifth of tequila and walked around a neighborhood close to the venue, mixing the hooch with lemon-lime mineral water rather than buying over-priced cocktails at the bar. I had flashbacks of sneaking out of my room in tenth grade and drinking Southern Comfort at the bus stop.
#7 The Desperate Dressing Room Impromptu
We ran into traffic on the way in to L.A. so we were denied the luxury of stopping by the hotel before the show to get beautiful. In overalls with a dew rag on my head, this white girl needed to primp! My friend and I popped in to the bathroom of the near by Bed Bath and Beyond and spent about an hour styling our hair, painting our faces, and selecting our wardrobe. Can we now add resourceful to our resumes?
#6 The Heartfelt Offer
A guy at Hard Rock was wearing a t-shirt that read “I’ll do what your last boyfriend wouldn’t”. My tipsy self scrambled over and whispered what my last boyfriend, The Brit’s, objection was. He offered to take me to his truck, and later offered his brother’s services as well. I declined but thanked him for the sentiment.
#5 Sign of the Times
We stopped at a Foster’s Freeze on the way home and although our frozen treats were sugary satisfaction, the mood of the van was left sour after seeing the flyer that was taped to the drive-through window. It was a promotion for David Coverdale announcing his performance in a Wal*mart parking lot the previous afternoon. To add to the humiliation, under his name in parenthesis they squeezed in (singer of Whitesnake). His manager is the devil!
#4 The Clever Play on Words
We were in the van talking about the stiffness that one gets from too much computer use and someone thought it was called corpol tunnel. Immediately Robert launches into character. He starts shouting with a perfect drill sergeant tone, “I am Corporal Tunnel! I am going to put you in a world of pain! Click the mouse! Repeat! Repeat! Repeat!”
#3 Terrorizing Suburbia
So after the band performed Friday night we went back and partied in the hotel room for a while. Around 3:30 Jack asked if I want to go for a walk and we ended up wandering around a suburban neighborhood in search of something to claim as a souvenir. I was hoping to find a groovy little lawn gnome. The best we could do was a two foot, American flag patterned pin wheel. Over the weekend it made it’s way to the top of our mini van, into the hotel pool, and finally resting in the median about a block away from it's original yard.
#2 The Tuber Puns
On our way home Sunday we stopped in the middle of nowhere for lunch. This place could have just as easily been found in the mid-west. The tabletop surface was covered with pictures of firearms and the waitresses still donned big bangs. After looking at the menu Jamie blurts out that ‘country potatoes’ sounds like a good name for a band. Jack sang, “Mamas don’t let your babies grow up to be french fries”. I added in a Southern accent, “Howdy we’re the Country Potatoes. We’re from Idaho and I’m Russ. Join us in welcoming our bassist, he’s new, and never mind our pothead drummer he’s probably baked”. We were howling!
#1 Mobile Directing
The seating arrangement for the ride home was me sitting in the last seat of the van with Jack, Robert in the middle seat with Shawn, Jamie in the passenger seat, and his girlfriend Danielle driving. Robert had a great idea for a skit so we sat the camera on the dashboard facing back, and hit record. It starts with the focus on Jack and I smooching in the back. Seconds later Danielle and Jamie lean in for a quick peck. Shawn and Robert note the little smooch. They then turn around and look at us kissing, and face forward again. Simultaneously Shawn and Robert make eye contact with each other and lean in for a passionate kiss. Robert noted the caption should read 'Kiss the girl ?'
Okay the real #1 is the show of course. Our boys rocked the cafe hard! They had the most fans, the closest to the stage fans, and they're music was simply the best!
Pictures are on your Majesty's photo page and we should have the edited footage of the trip in the near future. Until then this is Your Majesty saying rock out and roll on!
April 10, 2003
April 09, 2003
I'm beginning to feel an aching in my solar plexus when I think about not hanging out with my friends on a regular basis. A friend told me last night that I'll feel much better when I'm on the plane, taking off for my adventure. I just need to express how much love I have for my tribe right now. I only hope that I've been as good a friend as I know mine have been for me.
These Are The People In Your Neighborhood.......
You know it's time to move when you're doing your laundry at the local mat and you have to call the police to remove the junkie who's shooting up five feet away from you. This mangy looking woman staggered in and leaned over the garbage can and I thought she was just rummaging through the trash. Several minutes passed and she was still there but her back was to me so I didn't see what she was doing. The owner of the laundromat came in and walked around to where she could see what the druggie was doing, and motioned for me to walk outside. We called the SFPD who arrived about ten minutes later. The silver lining is that neighbors around the mat kept popping in and asking me if I was okay while I pulled my clothes out of the dryer, and asked if I wanted them to wait with me for the police. That's community.
You know it's time to move when you're doing your laundry at the local mat and you have to call the police to remove the junkie who's shooting up five feet away from you. This mangy looking woman staggered in and leaned over the garbage can and I thought she was just rummaging through the trash. Several minutes passed and she was still there but her back was to me so I didn't see what she was doing. The owner of the laundromat came in and walked around to where she could see what the druggie was doing, and motioned for me to walk outside. We called the SFPD who arrived about ten minutes later. The silver lining is that neighbors around the mat kept popping in and asking me if I was okay while I pulled my clothes out of the dryer, and asked if I wanted them to wait with me for the police. That's community.
Meow
Between the catty stares from women at a concert last night, and the cat calls from men while out running errands this morning, it's confirmed that stick straight hair suits me well. And now a word from our sponsor. The Farouk Ceramic Hairstyling Iron. Who cares that it costs over a hundred bucks, you'll look like a million! Curls are SO last week.
Between the catty stares from women at a concert last night, and the cat calls from men while out running errands this morning, it's confirmed that stick straight hair suits me well. And now a word from our sponsor. The Farouk Ceramic Hairstyling Iron. Who cares that it costs over a hundred bucks, you'll look like a million! Curls are SO last week.
Bjork's Competition
I finally got to see Sigur Ros last night at the Paramount theatre in Oakland. An opulent venue and a captivating show. I've never sat for an entire music performance yet I was filled with this beautiful vibration that left a permanent grin on my face. I think I sat on the edge of my seat with my chin in my hands for almost the entire set. Those Icelandic men know how to stir the soul!
I finally got to see Sigur Ros last night at the Paramount theatre in Oakland. An opulent venue and a captivating show. I've never sat for an entire music performance yet I was filled with this beautiful vibration that left a permanent grin on my face. I think I sat on the edge of my seat with my chin in my hands for almost the entire set. Those Icelandic men know how to stir the soul!
April 04, 2003
Satisfying Sunday
Sunday morning I joined my roomie for his interview with Bravo for their new reality series Gay Date. Fifteen men competing for a date with one man. My roomie was the only one who brought his "hag", they got a kick out of that. At one point the interviewer introduced himself as Peter, the guy he was shaking hands with said his name was Paul, and someone shouted out "And we're all Mary'! We ran into a few other gay boys we knew while we were there, it's a small gay world.
For lunch we picked up Brothers In Law barbecue which we've never treated ourselves to, and ate sloppy ribs on our roof deck overlooking the city. We commented that it didn't get any better than this. I was right. I've had digestion issues ever since eating that damn dirty pig!
Sunday afternoon we walked down to El Rio for live Salsa music and kick-ass margaritas. Now it's usually a pretty much gay crowd, but Sunday it sounded like a thousand tires leaking air. There were a surprising amount of fashion blunders this warm and sunny afternoon. One friend commented that he thought as soon as a man sucks dick is tendency to wear bad things went right out the window. We joked that maybe a few didn't stick one in all the way, perhaps they just licked it a little. Here are the top three fashion no-nos.
#3 Fresh off the Yacht - Late forties, very handsome, slick back gray hair, navy blue polo shirt, khaki shorts, and loafers with no socks on! I wanted to call him Biff and ask him where Muffy was.
#2 Hasn't purchased clothes since the early nineties - Late thirties, plain looking, dull blondish hair, a washed entirely too much to be worn in public white t-shirt, denim shorts that hung just a little too far below the knee, and white socks pulled up to his calves with white sneakers. Someone give that man a calendar!
#1 The International Male - Mid-thirties, plain looking, badly dyed blonde hair, a wheat colored sweater vest with only his abnormally overgrown muscles bulging from underneath, jeans and flip-flops. Sweetie, leave the house to buy your clothes from now on!
These are merely observations people. I think hair, make-up and clothes are all free reign because they can be changed. You know that I would never make fun of a fundamental characteristic. Not out loud anyway!
Sunday morning I joined my roomie for his interview with Bravo for their new reality series Gay Date. Fifteen men competing for a date with one man. My roomie was the only one who brought his "hag", they got a kick out of that. At one point the interviewer introduced himself as Peter, the guy he was shaking hands with said his name was Paul, and someone shouted out "And we're all Mary'! We ran into a few other gay boys we knew while we were there, it's a small gay world.
For lunch we picked up Brothers In Law barbecue which we've never treated ourselves to, and ate sloppy ribs on our roof deck overlooking the city. We commented that it didn't get any better than this. I was right. I've had digestion issues ever since eating that damn dirty pig!
Sunday afternoon we walked down to El Rio for live Salsa music and kick-ass margaritas. Now it's usually a pretty much gay crowd, but Sunday it sounded like a thousand tires leaking air. There were a surprising amount of fashion blunders this warm and sunny afternoon. One friend commented that he thought as soon as a man sucks dick is tendency to wear bad things went right out the window. We joked that maybe a few didn't stick one in all the way, perhaps they just licked it a little. Here are the top three fashion no-nos.
#3 Fresh off the Yacht - Late forties, very handsome, slick back gray hair, navy blue polo shirt, khaki shorts, and loafers with no socks on! I wanted to call him Biff and ask him where Muffy was.
#2 Hasn't purchased clothes since the early nineties - Late thirties, plain looking, dull blondish hair, a washed entirely too much to be worn in public white t-shirt, denim shorts that hung just a little too far below the knee, and white socks pulled up to his calves with white sneakers. Someone give that man a calendar!
#1 The International Male - Mid-thirties, plain looking, badly dyed blonde hair, a wheat colored sweater vest with only his abnormally overgrown muscles bulging from underneath, jeans and flip-flops. Sweetie, leave the house to buy your clothes from now on!
These are merely observations people. I think hair, make-up and clothes are all free reign because they can be changed. You know that I would never make fun of a fundamental characteristic. Not out loud anyway!
April 03, 2003
Royal Treatment
Last Friday night I went to a friend's house and he made dinner for me. We gorged ourselves sick on foire gras, cheese and bread, a scrumptuous green salad with seared scallops, pasta with mushrooms, and the sweetest homemade pecan pie this side of the Mississippi. I had a whole PIE made for me, how you like me now?
Last Friday night I went to a friend's house and he made dinner for me. We gorged ourselves sick on foire gras, cheese and bread, a scrumptuous green salad with seared scallops, pasta with mushrooms, and the sweetest homemade pecan pie this side of the Mississippi. I had a whole PIE made for me, how you like me now?
Smack of Reality
Yesterday I traded my Bose Wave Radio/Cd player and a hundred bucks for a brand new MP3 player. While making the deal I knew it was a good thing, and I was stoked to start ripping cds to the little device. The minute I closed the door behind the guy, I was hit with buyer's remorse. I kept thinking of how the Bose would have been perfect to have in case I did settle somewhere new, and how maybe it wasn't a fair trade. My roomie tried to do the right thing by reassuring me I got a deal. I told him I needed to pout for a while. Moments later it became clear what the real issue was. This was the first tangible sign that I was moving on. I had physically parted with this thing, that at one time, was a hallmark moment for me because I had purchased something of great quality for my new life in the big city four years ago. I cried for about ten minutes. How am I going to say farewell to friends when I can't even bear to let go of a silly cd player? If you're not hurting you're not growing right?
On the positive side, I got a terrific backpack from a friend last night, long-term traveler loan. Thanks Elle!
Yesterday I traded my Bose Wave Radio/Cd player and a hundred bucks for a brand new MP3 player. While making the deal I knew it was a good thing, and I was stoked to start ripping cds to the little device. The minute I closed the door behind the guy, I was hit with buyer's remorse. I kept thinking of how the Bose would have been perfect to have in case I did settle somewhere new, and how maybe it wasn't a fair trade. My roomie tried to do the right thing by reassuring me I got a deal. I told him I needed to pout for a while. Moments later it became clear what the real issue was. This was the first tangible sign that I was moving on. I had physically parted with this thing, that at one time, was a hallmark moment for me because I had purchased something of great quality for my new life in the big city four years ago. I cried for about ten minutes. How am I going to say farewell to friends when I can't even bear to let go of a silly cd player? If you're not hurting you're not growing right?
On the positive side, I got a terrific backpack from a friend last night, long-term traveler loan. Thanks Elle!
April 01, 2003
I was watching "Sex Lies and Videotape" yesterday and James Spader's character said that "Men learn to love who they're having sex with and women become more and more attracted to the men that they're in love with". What do you think? I think I must be living my life as a man! Until The Brit a couple of years ago I more often than not dated men I was more physically attracted to than emotionally or romantically. Just recently I was told that I quote movies like a dude. And have you seen the size of my hands and feet?!
No really, I attribute the intense physical draw to part of growing up. Why I've turned away from many strictly physical potentials in recent years because I knew I wanted more. So does that prove once again that men never grow up? Oh no, she went there! Seriously, I am completely aware of the differences between men and women and I embrace them!
No really, I attribute the intense physical draw to part of growing up. Why I've turned away from many strictly physical potentials in recent years because I knew I wanted more. So does that prove once again that men never grow up? Oh no, she went there! Seriously, I am completely aware of the differences between men and women and I embrace them!
March 27, 2003
Beach Life Here I Come
So I've modified my Kauai plans. One week here in Princeville, and then I'm staying indefinitely time at the hostel in Kapaa. Come and visit!!!
So I've modified my Kauai plans. One week here in Princeville, and then I'm staying indefinitely time at the hostel in Kapaa. Come and visit!!!
March 26, 2003
March 25, 2003
Name That Affliction
Is there a named condition yet, where conversation, without fail, prompts one to extract key words from the dialogue and then instinctively sing a line from a song with those words in it or that best relates to the topic or mood? I am the world's biggest sufferer. It's reactionary, I have no control. How do you people stand it?
Is there a named condition yet, where conversation, without fail, prompts one to extract key words from the dialogue and then instinctively sing a line from a song with those words in it or that best relates to the topic or mood? I am the world's biggest sufferer. It's reactionary, I have no control. How do you people stand it?
March 24, 2003
Therapy Review
Today Lucy and I chatted about the evolution of friendships and how each relationship serves an outlet for our many facets. I'm not just a kind of person. I am a leader, a student, a performer, a pillar, a diplomat, an acquaintance, a muse. For the most part I wasn't comfortable being all parts of myself (the good, the bad and the ugly) with people until just four years ago. This is still unchartered territory, discovering new ways that I express myself with every new relationship. I'm also facing mixed emotions about distancing myself from friendships that have time invested, but aren't healthy, and others phasing me out of their lives. I'm taking a break from a friend of almost two decades because I no longer feel that this person enriches my life in a positive way. To this person I feel like I am an ear, a cheerleader, a last resort. I have fond memories, but I need space to see what qualities I miss, if any. Another friend has gradually stopped inviting to do things, and our conversations get progressively more awkward. a is to b what b is to c. I've recently made a friend who evokes yet another dimension of Reese, and I'm intrigued by this one. It's calmer; less showy. Without my typical antics I feel exposed. As with any unfamiliar situation, my first instinct is to go back to what's comfortable. Vulnerability is my biggest challenge. I accept.
Today Lucy and I chatted about the evolution of friendships and how each relationship serves an outlet for our many facets. I'm not just a
03/01/03
Ay Oh. Oh Ay.
I went out in North Beach last night. It's the first time since I've been in the city, and boy do I know why. I only went because a friend put us on the VIP list for a fairly new club called Chi Chi. YIKES! The women were dressed like strippers complete with the clear heeled chase-me-catch-me-fuck-me pumps, and the men were condescending cheeseballs. I was approached by a guy with his shirt unbuttoned obscenely low and gold chains nestled in his chest hair. I joked with my friend that it wouldn't be long before I heard a "How YOU doin'"? 45 minutes. My friend joked that the night wouldn't be complete without a drunk girl screaming out of the sunroof of a limo. A Mustang would have to do.
Ay Oh. Oh Ay.
I went out in North Beach last night. It's the first time since I've been in the city, and boy do I know why. I only went because a friend put us on the VIP list for a fairly new club called Chi Chi. YIKES! The women were dressed like strippers complete with the clear heeled chase-me-catch-me-fuck-me pumps, and the men were condescending cheeseballs. I was approached by a guy with his shirt unbuttoned obscenely low and gold chains nestled in his chest hair. I joked with my friend that it wouldn't be long before I heard a "How YOU doin'"? 45 minutes. My friend joked that the night wouldn't be complete without a drunk girl screaming out of the sunroof of a limo. A Mustang would have to do.
Other Axis of Evil Wannabees
by John Cleese
Bitter after being snubbed for membership in the "Axis of Evil", Libya, China and Syria today announced that they had formed the "Axis of Just as Evil", which they said would be more evil than that stupid Iran-Iraq-North Korea axis President Bush warned of in his State of the Union address.
Axis of Evil members, however, immediately dismissed the new Axis as having, for starters, a really dumb name. "Right. They are just as evil ... in their dreams!" declared North Korean leader Kim Jong il. Everybody knows we're the best evils ...best at being evil ... we're the best."
Diplomats from Syria denied they were jealous over being excluded, although they conceded they did ask if they could join the Axis of Evil. "They told us it was full," said Syrian President Bashar al-Assad. "An axis can't have more than three countries", explained Iraqi President Saddam Hussein. "This is not my rule, it's tradition. In World War II you had Germany, Italy, and Japan in the evil Axis. So, you can only have three, and a secret handshake. Ours is wickedly cool."
International reaction to Bush's Axis of Evil declaration was swift, as within minutes, France surrendered. Elsewhere, peer-conscious nations rushed to gain triumvirate status in what has become a game of geopolitical chairs. Cuba, Sudan, and Serbia announced that they had formed the, "Axis of Somewhat Evil", forcing Somalia to join with Uganda and Myanmar in the "Axis of Occasionally Evil", while Bulgaria, Indonesia, and Russia established the "Axis of Not So Much Evil Really as Just Generally Disagreeable".
With the criteria suddenly expanded and all the desirable clubs filling up, Sierra Leone, El Salvador, and Rwanda applied to be called the "Axis of Countries That Aren't the Worst But Certainly Won't Be Asked to Host the Olympics". Canada, Mexico, and Australia formed the "Axis of Nations That Are Actually Quite Nice But Secretly Have Some Nasty Thoughts About America", while Scotland, New Zealand, and Spain established the "Axis of Countries That Want Sheep to Wear Lipstick". "That's not a threat, really, just something we like to do", said Scottish Executive First Minister Jack McConnell.
While wondering if the other nations of the world weren't perhaps making fun of him, a cautious Bush granted approval for most axis, although he rejected the establishment of the "Axis of Counties Whose Names End in Guay", accusing one of its members of filing a false application. Officials from Paraguay, Uruguay, and Chadguay denied the charges.
Israel, meanwhile, insisted it didn't want to join any Axis, but privately world leaders said that's only because no one asked them.
by John Cleese
Bitter after being snubbed for membership in the "Axis of Evil", Libya, China and Syria today announced that they had formed the "Axis of Just as Evil", which they said would be more evil than that stupid Iran-Iraq-North Korea axis President Bush warned of in his State of the Union address.
Axis of Evil members, however, immediately dismissed the new Axis as having, for starters, a really dumb name. "Right. They are just as evil ... in their dreams!" declared North Korean leader Kim Jong il. Everybody knows we're the best evils ...best at being evil ... we're the best."
Diplomats from Syria denied they were jealous over being excluded, although they conceded they did ask if they could join the Axis of Evil. "They told us it was full," said Syrian President Bashar al-Assad. "An axis can't have more than three countries", explained Iraqi President Saddam Hussein. "This is not my rule, it's tradition. In World War II you had Germany, Italy, and Japan in the evil Axis. So, you can only have three, and a secret handshake. Ours is wickedly cool."
International reaction to Bush's Axis of Evil declaration was swift, as within minutes, France surrendered. Elsewhere, peer-conscious nations rushed to gain triumvirate status in what has become a game of geopolitical chairs. Cuba, Sudan, and Serbia announced that they had formed the, "Axis of Somewhat Evil", forcing Somalia to join with Uganda and Myanmar in the "Axis of Occasionally Evil", while Bulgaria, Indonesia, and Russia established the "Axis of Not So Much Evil Really as Just Generally Disagreeable".
With the criteria suddenly expanded and all the desirable clubs filling up, Sierra Leone, El Salvador, and Rwanda applied to be called the "Axis of Countries That Aren't the Worst But Certainly Won't Be Asked to Host the Olympics". Canada, Mexico, and Australia formed the "Axis of Nations That Are Actually Quite Nice But Secretly Have Some Nasty Thoughts About America", while Scotland, New Zealand, and Spain established the "Axis of Countries That Want Sheep to Wear Lipstick". "That's not a threat, really, just something we like to do", said Scottish Executive First Minister Jack McConnell.
While wondering if the other nations of the world weren't perhaps making fun of him, a cautious Bush granted approval for most axis, although he rejected the establishment of the "Axis of Counties Whose Names End in Guay", accusing one of its members of filing a false application. Officials from Paraguay, Uruguay, and Chadguay denied the charges.
Israel, meanwhile, insisted it didn't want to join any Axis, but privately world leaders said that's only because no one asked them.
Saturday I Fled
I rode out to Pt. Reyes with a friend, in his little Alfa Romeo, top down, fog on our faces and heat on our toes. We sat for a spell on the beach and snacked and gabbed and I appreciated the calming effect of the waves. No more city sounds, no cell phones, no email, just wide open ocean. We saw four little seals playing in the surf and many varieties of birds. Ah yes the birds. My friend is an involuntary wealth of ornithologic knowledge. I find it amusing. We continued on to the lighthouse for a nice view of the fog, and I toyed with the idea of climbing over the safety fence and plumitting to my death to retrieve what looked like a small plastic cricket with a snap on his chest, (perhaps it will be curiosity and not vanity that will be my demise) then headed back with dinner as our goal. We made our way to the Pt. Reyes Station. Earlier we had been talking about different restaurants in the city and I mentioned that I heard Brothers-In-Law on Divisadero was the best place for barbecue. I took a moment to relish in how much I miss 'the pig' but haven't had much since I started eating meat again last year. I get a little skeezed out thinking of the process. But Niman Ranch meats, that's different! And Niman Ranch Spare Ribs they offered. And Niman Ranch Spare Ribs are what I ordered, and ate with greasy delight. I rounded out my decadence with the tartest Lemon Pot de Creme in the universe, and left fat and happy. All I need is a little reprieve.
I rode out to Pt. Reyes with a friend, in his little Alfa Romeo, top down, fog on our faces and heat on our toes. We sat for a spell on the beach and snacked and gabbed and I appreciated the calming effect of the waves. No more city sounds, no cell phones, no email, just wide open ocean. We saw four little seals playing in the surf and many varieties of birds. Ah yes the birds. My friend is an involuntary wealth of ornithologic knowledge. I find it amusing. We continued on to the lighthouse for a nice view of the fog, and I toyed with the idea of climbing over the safety fence and plumitting to my death to retrieve what looked like a small plastic cricket with a snap on his chest, (perhaps it will be curiosity and not vanity that will be my demise) then headed back with dinner as our goal. We made our way to the Pt. Reyes Station. Earlier we had been talking about different restaurants in the city and I mentioned that I heard Brothers-In-Law on Divisadero was the best place for barbecue. I took a moment to relish in how much I miss 'the pig' but haven't had much since I started eating meat again last year. I get a little skeezed out thinking of the process. But Niman Ranch meats, that's different! And Niman Ranch Spare Ribs they offered. And Niman Ranch Spare Ribs are what I ordered, and ate with greasy delight. I rounded out my decadence with the tartest Lemon Pot de Creme in the universe, and left fat and happy. All I need is a little reprieve.
March 22, 2003
Corporate America divvies up the post-Saddam spoils
Think of it as a for-profit Marshall Plan
by Arianna Huffington
Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a winner in Iraq. Yes, I know that the first smart bomb has yet to be dropped on Baghdad. But that's just a formality. The war has already been won. The conquering heroes are not generals in fatigues but CEOs in suits, and the shock troops are not an advance guard of commandos but legions of lobbyists.
The Bush administration is currently in the process of doling out over $1.5 billion in government contracts to American companies lining up to cash in on the rebuilding of postwar Iraq. Bombs away! The more destruction the better -- at least for the lucky few in the rebuilding business.
The United Nations has traditionally overseen the reconstruction of war zones like Afghanistan or Kosovo. But in keeping with its unilateral, the-world-is-our-sandbox approach to this invasion, the White House has decided to nail a "Made in the USA" sign on this Iraqi fixer-upper. Postwar Iraq will be rebuilt using red, white, and blueprints.
Talk about advance planning: Even as the people of Iraq are girding themselves for the thousands of bombs expected to rain down on them during the first 24 hours of the attack, the administration is already picking and choosing who will be given the lucrative job of cleaning up the rubble. Postwar rebuilding is a solitary bright spot in our own carpet-bombed economy.
To further expedite matters, the war-powers-that-be invoked "urgent circumstances" clauses that allowed them to subvert the requisite competitive bidding process -- the free market be damned -- and invite a select group of companies to bid on the rebuilding projects. No British companies were included, which has left many of them seething and meeting with government officials in London to find out where they stand.
So just which companies were given first crack at the post-Saddam spoils?
Well, given Team Bush's track record, it will probably not fill you with "shock and awe" to learn that the common denominator among the chosen few is a proven willingness to make large campaign donations to the Grand Old Party. Between them, the bidders -- a quartet of well-connected corporate consortiums that includes Bechtel Group, Fluor Corp., and, of course, Vice President Cheney's old cronies at Halliburton -- have donated a combined $2.8 million over the past two election cycles, 68 percent of which went to Republicans.
The insider track given these fat cat donors proves afresh that splurging on a politician is one of the soundest and safest investments you can make. Where else will a $2.8 million ante offer you a one-in-four shot at raking in a $1.5 billion payoff?
And that $1.5 billion is just for starters. The president is planning to give post-Saddam Iraq an extreme makeover -- a wide-ranging overhaul that will include the transformation of the country's educational, health-care, and banking systems -- all funded by taxpayer dollars and administered by private U.S. contractors. Think of it as a for-profit Marshall Plan.
"The administration's goal," reads one of the reconstruction contracts that are up for bids, "is to provide tangible evidence to the people of Iraq that the U.S. will support efforts to bring the country to political security and economic prosperity."
As a first step toward Iraqi prosperity, the president's ambitious postwar plan earmarks $100 million to ensure that Iraq's 25,000 schools have all the supplies and support necessary to "function at a standard level of quality" -- including books and supplies for 4.1 million Iraqi schoolchildren.
I'm sure those schools in Oregon that are being forced to shut down a month early due to inadequate funding, or the low-income students in California who are suing the state in a desperate effort to obtain adequate textbooks and qualified teachers of their own, would love to see the same kind of "tangible evidence" of President Bush's support.
The same goes for our flatlining public health-care system. While more than a million poor Americans are about to lose their access to publicly funded medical care, the president is in the market for a corporate contractor to oversee a $100 million upgrade of Iraq's hospitals and clinics.
And the White House has announced its intention to redesign Iraq's financial rules and banking system after it bombs the country halfway to oblivion. Too bad the administration keeps watering down reforms for the financial rules and banking system here at home.
That's another way corporate America is profiting from the looming war. With all eyes on Iraq, few are paying attention to how little is being done to reform and redesign our own financial rules.
The new chairman of the Securities and Exchange Commission, for instance, is getting away with an enforcement regime every bit as limp as that of his predecessor, the supremely spineless Harvey Pitt.
Last week, in his first congressional testimony since assuming control of the watchdog agency, William Donaldson made it clear that, despite a massive increase in the SEC's budget, we shouldn't expect too much in the way of fundamental reform -- stressing that one of his top priorities would be boosting the morale of the agency.
I don't know about you, but I would feel a whole lot better if he'd made boosting the morale of a badly burned public Job No. 1. Tossing a slew of corporate crooks in the slammer would be a good start.
Maybe America's beleaguered investors should band together with this country's "left behind" schoolchildren and start stockpiling a couple of plywood drones with overly long wingspans, some high-strength aluminum tubes, and a few discarded canisters of chemical gas.
Apparently, that's the only way to get this administration's attention.
Think of it as a for-profit Marshall Plan
by Arianna Huffington
Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a winner in Iraq. Yes, I know that the first smart bomb has yet to be dropped on Baghdad. But that's just a formality. The war has already been won. The conquering heroes are not generals in fatigues but CEOs in suits, and the shock troops are not an advance guard of commandos but legions of lobbyists.
The Bush administration is currently in the process of doling out over $1.5 billion in government contracts to American companies lining up to cash in on the rebuilding of postwar Iraq. Bombs away! The more destruction the better -- at least for the lucky few in the rebuilding business.
The United Nations has traditionally overseen the reconstruction of war zones like Afghanistan or Kosovo. But in keeping with its unilateral, the-world-is-our-sandbox approach to this invasion, the White House has decided to nail a "Made in the USA" sign on this Iraqi fixer-upper. Postwar Iraq will be rebuilt using red, white, and blueprints.
Talk about advance planning: Even as the people of Iraq are girding themselves for the thousands of bombs expected to rain down on them during the first 24 hours of the attack, the administration is already picking and choosing who will be given the lucrative job of cleaning up the rubble. Postwar rebuilding is a solitary bright spot in our own carpet-bombed economy.
To further expedite matters, the war-powers-that-be invoked "urgent circumstances" clauses that allowed them to subvert the requisite competitive bidding process -- the free market be damned -- and invite a select group of companies to bid on the rebuilding projects. No British companies were included, which has left many of them seething and meeting with government officials in London to find out where they stand.
So just which companies were given first crack at the post-Saddam spoils?
Well, given Team Bush's track record, it will probably not fill you with "shock and awe" to learn that the common denominator among the chosen few is a proven willingness to make large campaign donations to the Grand Old Party. Between them, the bidders -- a quartet of well-connected corporate consortiums that includes Bechtel Group, Fluor Corp., and, of course, Vice President Cheney's old cronies at Halliburton -- have donated a combined $2.8 million over the past two election cycles, 68 percent of which went to Republicans.
The insider track given these fat cat donors proves afresh that splurging on a politician is one of the soundest and safest investments you can make. Where else will a $2.8 million ante offer you a one-in-four shot at raking in a $1.5 billion payoff?
And that $1.5 billion is just for starters. The president is planning to give post-Saddam Iraq an extreme makeover -- a wide-ranging overhaul that will include the transformation of the country's educational, health-care, and banking systems -- all funded by taxpayer dollars and administered by private U.S. contractors. Think of it as a for-profit Marshall Plan.
"The administration's goal," reads one of the reconstruction contracts that are up for bids, "is to provide tangible evidence to the people of Iraq that the U.S. will support efforts to bring the country to political security and economic prosperity."
As a first step toward Iraqi prosperity, the president's ambitious postwar plan earmarks $100 million to ensure that Iraq's 25,000 schools have all the supplies and support necessary to "function at a standard level of quality" -- including books and supplies for 4.1 million Iraqi schoolchildren.
I'm sure those schools in Oregon that are being forced to shut down a month early due to inadequate funding, or the low-income students in California who are suing the state in a desperate effort to obtain adequate textbooks and qualified teachers of their own, would love to see the same kind of "tangible evidence" of President Bush's support.
The same goes for our flatlining public health-care system. While more than a million poor Americans are about to lose their access to publicly funded medical care, the president is in the market for a corporate contractor to oversee a $100 million upgrade of Iraq's hospitals and clinics.
And the White House has announced its intention to redesign Iraq's financial rules and banking system after it bombs the country halfway to oblivion. Too bad the administration keeps watering down reforms for the financial rules and banking system here at home.
That's another way corporate America is profiting from the looming war. With all eyes on Iraq, few are paying attention to how little is being done to reform and redesign our own financial rules.
The new chairman of the Securities and Exchange Commission, for instance, is getting away with an enforcement regime every bit as limp as that of his predecessor, the supremely spineless Harvey Pitt.
Last week, in his first congressional testimony since assuming control of the watchdog agency, William Donaldson made it clear that, despite a massive increase in the SEC's budget, we shouldn't expect too much in the way of fundamental reform -- stressing that one of his top priorities would be boosting the morale of the agency.
I don't know about you, but I would feel a whole lot better if he'd made boosting the morale of a badly burned public Job No. 1. Tossing a slew of corporate crooks in the slammer would be a good start.
Maybe America's beleaguered investors should band together with this country's "left behind" schoolchildren and start stockpiling a couple of plywood drones with overly long wingspans, some high-strength aluminum tubes, and a few discarded canisters of chemical gas.
Apparently, that's the only way to get this administration's attention.
March 21, 2003
Freudian Slip
Since I've had my days free I've been popping up to my roof to catch some rays. Usually only about 30 minutes, front side up. I just feel happier when I have a little color. I just got done laying out today when my roomie called and asked how my day was going. I told him what I had accomplished including the sun bathing and he asked "Wasn't it too cold"? I said "Yeah it was a little chilly but I needed about an hour on my back". His reply, "Don't we all honey"!
Since I've had my days free I've been popping up to my roof to catch some rays. Usually only about 30 minutes, front side up. I just feel happier when I have a little color. I just got done laying out today when my roomie called and asked how my day was going. I told him what I had accomplished including the sun bathing and he asked "Wasn't it too cold"? I said "Yeah it was a little chilly but I needed about an hour on my back". His reply, "Don't we all honey"!
February 24, 2003
Responses to Polygamy My Ass!
--"Yes, it is true; a European man can be in love with one and have sex
with
another. The one he loves is obviously the one that has taken his
heart not
his body. Sex is very open in Europe and most European do not have
any
hang ups. It is sort of like a test you know. If one is committed
and
have sex with another, it will either make the relationship stronger
and/or
weaker. It is like testing your feelings really."
--"Believe me, this is NOT a European thing, and it’s NOT common in Europe. I was born and raised in Holland (arguably the most liberal country in the world) and believe me, if MY boyfriend would dare suggest something like that, he would find his ass out the door ASAP.
If you love somebody, you don’t want to share them, and you don’t need anybody else, in ANY culture. He’s full of shit."
--"I'm from northern Europe and I have
NEVER
heard of this being common anywhere. Just as it is uncommon here it is
uncommon over there, believe me. I think it's more of an individual
choice
than anything else (whatever this guy says). Please don't think all
Europeans are this way. Northern Europe is the most liberal place you
can
find and even there - same rules apply. If you are in a relationship
you
should stick to one person only.
Like you, I can't understand how you can love someone and then be with
someone else too. I guess this is the ideal situation for some men, but
as a woman I wouldn't (and couldn't) tolerate it.
Anyway, good luck to you. There are tons of great European men in the
city
who aren't into this sort of stuff. Keep your eyes open and take care
of
that heart of yours. This Austrian guys sounds like trouble."
--"I live with a European and know many...its a complete line. Total crap.
It's
not common practice in Europe. Don't ever fall for the "up-tight
American"
thing. What's common is slimy foreign men using the age old whopper. I
wouldn't trust him to save your own life. Enjoy the tension but that
one's s
scam artist. Stay away!"
--"Yes, it is true; a European man can be in love with one and have sex
with
another. The one he loves is obviously the one that has taken his
heart not
his body. Sex is very open in Europe and most European do not have
any
hang ups. It is sort of like a test you know. If one is committed
and
have sex with another, it will either make the relationship stronger
and/or
weaker. It is like testing your feelings really."
--"Believe me, this is NOT a European thing, and it’s NOT common in Europe. I was born and raised in Holland (arguably the most liberal country in the world) and believe me, if MY boyfriend would dare suggest something like that, he would find his ass out the door ASAP.
If you love somebody, you don’t want to share them, and you don’t need anybody else, in ANY culture. He’s full of shit."
--"I'm from northern Europe and I have
NEVER
heard of this being common anywhere. Just as it is uncommon here it is
uncommon over there, believe me. I think it's more of an individual
choice
than anything else (whatever this guy says). Please don't think all
Europeans are this way. Northern Europe is the most liberal place you
can
find and even there - same rules apply. If you are in a relationship
you
should stick to one person only.
Like you, I can't understand how you can love someone and then be with
someone else too. I guess this is the ideal situation for some men, but
as a woman I wouldn't (and couldn't) tolerate it.
Anyway, good luck to you. There are tons of great European men in the
city
who aren't into this sort of stuff. Keep your eyes open and take care
of
that heart of yours. This Austrian guys sounds like trouble."
--"I live with a European and know many...its a complete line. Total crap.
It's
not common practice in Europe. Don't ever fall for the "up-tight
American"
thing. What's common is slimy foreign men using the age old whopper. I
wouldn't trust him to save your own life. Enjoy the tension but that
one's s
scam artist. Stay away!"
Polygamy My Ass!
Crushed by my crush. I may see things differently in days to come, but tell me now, where is the merit in this exchange. It was lust as first sight. I flirt with a man for five days. A beautiful, thirty-six year old, Austrian marine biologist/photographer with a name that rolls off of your tongue. He's supposed to be photographing me in front of bed legs (the main focus of the shoot), but its so captivated with me, he forgets about his assignment and shoots several rolls of me alone. He acknowledges the attraction is mutual. On the last night of the project, we wind up tipsy and naked in a hot tub. After several hours of intense heavy petting in the pool house and the hot tub, he casually informs me that he would very much like to be with me, but I would have to be a part of his pre-existing four year relationship with the woman he loves. He says that only Americans have the jealousy hang-up and if I would just open my mind to the possibilities, he thinks that I would find it satisfying. Now maybe I'm confused from the booze. Perhaps I'm disoriented because I've been up for two days straight. Call me American. But if I'm going to like someone this much, I want them all to myself. Is that so wrong? Should I get on board with a new relationship for a new millennium? FUCK NO! I'm not spending precious energy getting someone hot and horny so he can go home to his girlfriend.
Opinions Wanted: Would any of my loyal subjects be up for a love triangle?
Crushed by my crush. I may see things differently in days to come, but tell me now, where is the merit in this exchange. It was lust as first sight. I flirt with a man for five days. A beautiful, thirty-six year old, Austrian marine biologist/photographer with a name that rolls off of your tongue. He's supposed to be photographing me in front of bed legs (the main focus of the shoot), but its so captivated with me, he forgets about his assignment and shoots several rolls of me alone. He acknowledges the attraction is mutual. On the last night of the project, we wind up tipsy and naked in a hot tub. After several hours of intense heavy petting in the pool house and the hot tub, he casually informs me that he would very much like to be with me, but I would have to be a part of his pre-existing four year relationship with the woman he loves. He says that only Americans have the jealousy hang-up and if I would just open my mind to the possibilities, he thinks that I would find it satisfying. Now maybe I'm confused from the booze. Perhaps I'm disoriented because I've been up for two days straight. Call me American. But if I'm going to like someone this much, I want them all to myself. Is that so wrong? Should I get on board with a new relationship for a new millennium? FUCK NO! I'm not spending precious energy getting someone hot and horny so he can go home to his girlfriend.
Opinions Wanted: Would any of my loyal subjects be up for a love triangle?
February 20, 2003
February 15, 2003
February 14, 2003
February 12, 2003
Final Straw
Even with no source of income I ordered DSL. No up front charges and $44/mo for the uber-fast. It will be active next Tuesday. As much as I appreciate a free dial up connection, I could no longer bear to wait several hours for each song to download off of Kazaa, when I know that with DSL you can begin listening to the song before it's finished downloading. White girl ain't got TIME to pirate music at a snail's pace!
Even with no source of income I ordered DSL. No up front charges and $44/mo for the uber-fast. It will be active next Tuesday. As much as I appreciate a free dial up connection, I could no longer bear to wait several hours for each song to download off of Kazaa, when I know that with DSL you can begin listening to the song before it's finished downloading. White girl ain't got TIME to pirate music at a snail's pace!
February 08, 2003
from an email:
To whom it may concern:
> for the offensive article regarding Latinos and the Spanish language
> which appears in the February 2003 issue of Vanity Fair. In the
> meantime, please boycott Vanity Fair magazine,
> and urge others to do the same.
> If you are offended by the word-for-word transcription below, please
> copy (rather than forward) this email in a new message, sign it at the
> end of the list, and send it to all of the
> people whom you know. If you receive this list with 100 names signed,
> please send it to the Editor at:
> vfmail@vf.com and copy maldonado wendy@hotmail.com
>>>>> > > > > wendy@hotmail
> Thank you!
>
> ------------------------------------------------------------
> Excerpt, Vanity Fair (February 2003), p. 116, Ask Dame Edna:Dear Dame Edna,
> I would very much like to learn a foreign language, preferably French
> or Italian, but every time I mention this, people tell me to learn
> Spanish instead. They say, "Everyone is going to be speaking Spanish in
> 10 years. George W. Bush speaks
> Spanish." Could this be true? Are we all going to have to speak
> Spanish?
> Torn Romantic, Palm Beach
>>> > >
> Dear Torn:
> Forget Spanish. There's nothing in that language worth reading except
> Don Quixote, and a quick listen to the CD of Man of La Mancha will take
>
> care of that. There was a poet named Garcia Lorca, but I'd leave him on
> the intellectual back burner if I were
> you. As for everyone's speaking it, what twaddle! Who speaks it that
> you are really desperate to talk to? The
> help? Your leaf blower? Study French or German, where there are a t
> least a few books worth reading, or, if
> you're American, try English.
>>> > > Dame Edna
>>> > > ----------------------------------------
>
> Dear Editor,
> I was infuriated at Dame Edna's response to Torn Romantic,, Palm Beach
> (Vanity Fair, February 2003). Dame Edna
> could have chosen any number of amusing responses; however, she
> responded using cheap, two-dimensional
> stereotypes of Latinos and Latin Americans, revealing not only her
> racism but also her profound ignorance of who
> we are.
>>> > >
> We are not just 'the help' and the 'leaf blowers'. We are architects
> and activists, journalists and doctors, governors and athletes,
> scientists and business people. We are Nobel Prize
> Winners and Rhodes Scholars. We speak Spanish, but we also speak
> fluent English, and many of us speak other
> languages as well. As of last week, we are officially the largest
> minority population in the United States at 37
> million and 13% of the population.
> Without us, the economy o f this nation and the Americas, and
> consequently the world, would come to a complete standstill.
> If Dame Edna were even remotely cultured or educated, she would have
> read and lost herself in the exquisite
> writings of Nobel prize winners Octavio Paz, Gabriel Garcia-Marquez,
> and Pablo Neruda. She would know that
> Sor Juana Inez de la Cruz was one of the first feminists and poets in
> the Americas. She would admire Isabel
> Allende and Sandra Cisneros for their passionate prose and vibrant
> spirits.
> And of course, if it had not been for us, the world would not know
> chocolate! And everyone knows life would not be worth living without
> chocolate.
> Finally, I would like to point out that Dame Edna would have NEVER
> written such blatantly offensive material about African-Americans or
> Jews, for obvious reasons. It seems that
> Dame Edna AND the Editors of Vanity Fair believe that Latinos and
> Latin Americans cannot read, and even if we
> could, we would never be Vanity Fair readers. For the life of me, I
> still cannot figure out why you chose to
> feature Salma Hayek on the cover and in an article celebrating her
> success immediately following such an
> offensive piece.
> demand an apology in print in the next issue of Vanity Fair from the
> Editors and from Dame Edna. In the meantime, I will be mobilizing
> everyone I know to boycott and protest Vanity Fair.
> By the way, I am a 31-year old Mexican-American woman, with three Ivy
> League degrees, working in New York
> City at a major firm. I sure as hell am NOT the leaf blower or the
> help, and I think all of you need to go to college.
To whom it may concern:
> for the offensive article regarding Latinos and the Spanish language
> which appears in the February 2003 issue of Vanity Fair. In the
> meantime, please boycott Vanity Fair magazine,
> and urge others to do the same.
> If you are offended by the word-for-word transcription below, please
> copy (rather than forward) this email in a new message, sign it at the
> end of the list, and send it to all of the
> people whom you know. If you receive this list with 100 names signed,
> please send it to the Editor at:
> vfmail@vf.com and copy maldonado wendy@hotmail.com
>>>>> > > > > wendy@hotmail
> Thank you!
>
> ------------------------------------------------------------
> Excerpt, Vanity Fair (February 2003), p. 116, Ask Dame Edna:Dear Dame Edna,
> I would very much like to learn a foreign language, preferably French
> or Italian, but every time I mention this, people tell me to learn
> Spanish instead. They say, "Everyone is going to be speaking Spanish in
> 10 years. George W. Bush speaks
> Spanish." Could this be true? Are we all going to have to speak
> Spanish?
> Torn Romantic, Palm Beach
>>> > >
> Dear Torn:
> Forget Spanish. There's nothing in that language worth reading except
> Don Quixote, and a quick listen to the CD of Man of La Mancha will take
>
> care of that. There was a poet named Garcia Lorca, but I'd leave him on
> the intellectual back burner if I were
> you. As for everyone's speaking it, what twaddle! Who speaks it that
> you are really desperate to talk to? The
> help? Your leaf blower? Study French or German, where there are a t
> least a few books worth reading, or, if
> you're American, try English.
>>> > > Dame Edna
>>> > > ----------------------------------------
>
> Dear Editor,
> I was infuriated at Dame Edna's response to Torn Romantic,, Palm Beach
> (Vanity Fair, February 2003). Dame Edna
> could have chosen any number of amusing responses; however, she
> responded using cheap, two-dimensional
> stereotypes of Latinos and Latin Americans, revealing not only her
> racism but also her profound ignorance of who
> we are.
>>> > >
> We are not just 'the help' and the 'leaf blowers'. We are architects
> and activists, journalists and doctors, governors and athletes,
> scientists and business people. We are Nobel Prize
> Winners and Rhodes Scholars. We speak Spanish, but we also speak
> fluent English, and many of us speak other
> languages as well. As of last week, we are officially the largest
> minority population in the United States at 37
> million and 13% of the population.
> Without us, the economy o f this nation and the Americas, and
> consequently the world, would come to a complete standstill.
> If Dame Edna were even remotely cultured or educated, she would have
> read and lost herself in the exquisite
> writings of Nobel prize winners Octavio Paz, Gabriel Garcia-Marquez,
> and Pablo Neruda. She would know that
> Sor Juana Inez de la Cruz was one of the first feminists and poets in
> the Americas. She would admire Isabel
> Allende and Sandra Cisneros for their passionate prose and vibrant
> spirits.
> And of course, if it had not been for us, the world would not know
> chocolate! And everyone knows life would not be worth living without
> chocolate.
> Finally, I would like to point out that Dame Edna would have NEVER
> written such blatantly offensive material about African-Americans or
> Jews, for obvious reasons. It seems that
> Dame Edna AND the Editors of Vanity Fair believe that Latinos and
> Latin Americans cannot read, and even if we
> could, we would never be Vanity Fair readers. For the life of me, I
> still cannot figure out why you chose to
> feature Salma Hayek on the cover and in an article celebrating her
> success immediately following such an
> offensive piece.
> demand an apology in print in the next issue of Vanity Fair from the
> Editors and from Dame Edna. In the meantime, I will be mobilizing
> everyone I know to boycott and protest Vanity Fair.
> By the way, I am a 31-year old Mexican-American woman, with three Ivy
> League degrees, working in New York
> City at a major firm. I sure as hell am NOT the leaf blower or the
> help, and I think all of you need to go to college.
from an email:
> > >The Bush White House has an "opinion" line for you
> > to call. So, if
> > >you oppose the proposed war in Iraq, give a call.
> > >
> > >The line only accepts calls from 9-5 EST., Monday
> > thru Friday. Just
> > >call the White House at 202-456-1111.
> > >
> > >A machine will detain you for only a moment and
> > then a pleasant
> > >live operator will thank you for saying "I oppose"
> > or "I
> > >approve." It will only take minutes. Note that the
> > >weekends are closed for calls.
> > >The president has said that he wants to know what
> > the American people
> > >are thinking. Let him know. Time is running out.
> > >The Bush White House has an "opinion" line for you
> > to call. So, if
> > >you oppose the proposed war in Iraq, give a call.
> > >
> > >The line only accepts calls from 9-5 EST., Monday
> > thru Friday. Just
> > >call the White House at 202-456-1111.
> > >
> > >A machine will detain you for only a moment and
> > then a pleasant
> > >live operator will thank you for saying "I oppose"
> > or "I
> > >approve." It will only take minutes. Note that the
> > >weekends are closed for calls.
> > >The president has said that he wants to know what
> > the American people
> > >are thinking. Let him know. Time is running out.
February 07, 2003
February 05, 2003
Overkill
Last night I had a quasi-conversation with someone whose only contribution was “Right on”, with varying tones based on the mood of my comment. I could have told him that I was a psychopathic stalker who has chosen him as my next target and I would have gotten an encouraging “Right on”. I could have told him that I was hit by a bus and I'll never walk again and I would have gotten a sympathetic “Right on”. Cute and stupid doesn’t work for this Modern Monarch. I’ve decided that I don’t want to hang out with you again. (Unphased) “Right on”.
Last night I had a quasi-conversation with someone whose only contribution was “Right on”, with varying tones based on the mood of my comment. I could have told him that I was a psychopathic stalker who has chosen him as my next target and I would have gotten an encouraging “Right on”. I could have told him that I was hit by a bus and I'll never walk again and I would have gotten a sympathetic “Right on”. Cute and stupid doesn’t work for this Modern Monarch. I’ve decided that I don’t want to hang out with you again. (Unphased) “Right on”.
January 31, 2003
January 30, 2003
Mad Ass Cap Adventure
What a pleasant surprise it was for me to run into a cute boy that I met at the Oakenfold show in December. I hadn't been to Minna in ages and needed to let off some steam in a big way. Four hours and five Chimays later (cutie wound up wearing number six after a wild elbow to my wrist. It's dangerous on the dance floor) I left with cutie and we met up with his co-workers at La Colonial. What possessed me to continue consuming alcohol is beyond me, but I had another Chimay and partook in a group Kamakazie shot. I remember cutie drank two double Mojitos. I remember much opposition regarding cutie's boss driving home as he could barely make it to the loo without taking a tumble. We cabbed it to his boss's car where one of us other intoxicants were going to attempt to drive to The O.S.B. on Polk. The boss wound up driving the three block trek (for some reason it made sense last night) and we started a game of pool. About fifteen minutes later the police arrived, pointing out that the boss had parked in a handicapped space. After much drunken conversation with the authorities, it was decided the car was going to be towed. The boss called his boyfriend for a little back up, but the boyfriend left him high and dry. The entire cab ride back to my house (this too sounded like a better idea last night) he was screaming into his cell phone leaving the same slurred message over and over for his boyfriend, "I bailed you out of jail last weekend and you can't even come and pick me up after my car just got towed"?! "I spent a thousand dollars and stayed up for thirty-five hours (approximately. This number increased with every message) and you won't help me"?! "I'll remember this BITCH"! And later added while sitting on my sofa "My ex-boyfriend keeps calling me and you know what"?, "I'm going to go back to him"! He crashed on my sofa. I heard him leave this morning. Poor thing, I bet he didn't have any idea where he was or which end was up. Cutie on the other hand knew exactly which end was up IF-you know what I mean *nudge* It was great redemption for him being a car salesman. Is that harsh?
Grant me leniency on punctuation, grammar, spelling, and anything that requires technical thought. I'm so hung right now I'm shaking worse that Michael J. Fox. Oh shut up, you know you laughed inside. Anyway I don't care, I got laid!
What a pleasant surprise it was for me to run into a cute boy that I met at the Oakenfold show in December. I hadn't been to Minna in ages and needed to let off some steam in a big way. Four hours and five Chimays later (cutie wound up wearing number six after a wild elbow to my wrist. It's dangerous on the dance floor) I left with cutie and we met up with his co-workers at La Colonial. What possessed me to continue consuming alcohol is beyond me, but I had another Chimay and partook in a group Kamakazie shot. I remember cutie drank two double Mojitos. I remember much opposition regarding cutie's boss driving home as he could barely make it to the loo without taking a tumble. We cabbed it to his boss's car where one of us other intoxicants were going to attempt to drive to The O.S.B. on Polk. The boss wound up driving the three block trek (for some reason it made sense last night) and we started a game of pool. About fifteen minutes later the police arrived, pointing out that the boss had parked in a handicapped space. After much drunken conversation with the authorities, it was decided the car was going to be towed. The boss called his boyfriend for a little back up, but the boyfriend left him high and dry. The entire cab ride back to my house (this too sounded like a better idea last night) he was screaming into his cell phone leaving the same slurred message over and over for his boyfriend, "I bailed you out of jail last weekend and you can't even come and pick me up after my car just got towed"?! "I spent a thousand dollars and stayed up for thirty-five hours (approximately. This number increased with every message) and you won't help me"?! "I'll remember this BITCH"! And later added while sitting on my sofa "My ex-boyfriend keeps calling me and you know what"?, "I'm going to go back to him"! He crashed on my sofa. I heard him leave this morning. Poor thing, I bet he didn't have any idea where he was or which end was up. Cutie on the other hand knew exactly which end was up IF-you know what I mean *nudge* It was great redemption for him being a car salesman. Is that harsh?
Grant me leniency on punctuation, grammar, spelling, and anything that requires technical thought. I'm so hung right now I'm shaking worse that Michael J. Fox. Oh shut up, you know you laughed inside. Anyway I don't care, I got laid!
January 28, 2003
San Francisco Bay Area Math Test!!!
1. Zelda and Jane were given a rottweiler at their
commitment ceremony. If their dog needs to be walked
two miles a day and they walk at a rate of 3/4 mile
per hour, how much time will they spend discussing
their relationship in public?
2. Michael lives in Los Altos Hills and has two
abusive stepfathers and an alcoholic mother. If his
self-esteem is reduced by 20% per dysfunctional
parent, but Michael feels 3% better for every person
he denigrates, how long will it take before he's ready
to go home if one person walks by the window of the
sushi bar every three minutes?
3. Sanjeev has 7 piercings. If the likelihood of
getting cellulitis on a given day is 10% per piercing,
what is the likelihood that Sanjeev will need to
hitchhike to Berkeley during the next week to renew
his erythromycin prescription?
4. Chad wants to take half a pound of pot to Orinda
and sell it at a 20% profit. If it originally cost him
$1,500 in food stamps, how much should Nicole write
the check for?
5. The City and County of San Francisco decide to
destroy 50 rats infesting downtown. If 9,800 animal
rights activists hold a candlelight vigil, how many
people did each dead rat empower?
6. A red sock, a yellow sock, a blue sock, and a white
sock are tossed randomly in a drawer. What is the
likelihood that the first two socks drawn will be
socks of color?
7. George weighs 245 pounds and drinks two triple
lattes every morning while working on his laptop. If
each shot of espresso contains 490mg of caffeine, what
is George's average caffeine density in mg/pound?
8. There are 4500 homes in Mill Valley and all of them
recycle plastic. If each household recycles 10 soda
bottles a day and buys one polar fleece pullover per
month, does Mill Valley have a monthly plastic surplus
or deficit? (Bonus question: Assuming all the plastic
bottles are 1 liter size, how much Evian are they
drinking?)
9. If the average person can eat one pork pot sticker
in 30 seconds, and the waitress brings a platter of 12
pot stickers, how long will it take five vegans to not
eat them?
10. Todd begins walking down Market Street with 12 $1
bills in his wallet. If he always gives panhandlers a
single buck, how many legs did he have to step over if
he has $3 left when he reaches the other end and met
only one double-amputee?
Advanced Placement Students Only:
11. Katie, Trip, Ling, John-John and Effie share a
three-bedroom apartment on Guerrero for $2400 a month.
Effie and Trip can share one bedroom, but the other
three need their own rooms with separate ISDN lines to
run their web servers. None of them wants to use the
futon in the living room as a bed, and they each want
to save $650 in three months to attend Burning Man.
What is their best option:
a. All five roommates accept a $12/hour job-share as
handgun monitors at Mission High.
b. Ask Miles, the bisexual auto mechanic, to share
Effie and Trip's bedroom for $500/month.
c. Petition the Board of Supervisors to advance Ling
her annual digital-artists-of-color stipend.
d. Rent strike.
I added: If Dan and Renee walk down 24th Street at one block every two minutes, to go to Barney's Burgers, how many strollers will they dodge, and how many babies named Hunter will drool on their Campers?
1. Zelda and Jane were given a rottweiler at their
commitment ceremony. If their dog needs to be walked
two miles a day and they walk at a rate of 3/4 mile
per hour, how much time will they spend discussing
their relationship in public?
2. Michael lives in Los Altos Hills and has two
abusive stepfathers and an alcoholic mother. If his
self-esteem is reduced by 20% per dysfunctional
parent, but Michael feels 3% better for every person
he denigrates, how long will it take before he's ready
to go home if one person walks by the window of the
sushi bar every three minutes?
3. Sanjeev has 7 piercings. If the likelihood of
getting cellulitis on a given day is 10% per piercing,
what is the likelihood that Sanjeev will need to
hitchhike to Berkeley during the next week to renew
his erythromycin prescription?
4. Chad wants to take half a pound of pot to Orinda
and sell it at a 20% profit. If it originally cost him
$1,500 in food stamps, how much should Nicole write
the check for?
5. The City and County of San Francisco decide to
destroy 50 rats infesting downtown. If 9,800 animal
rights activists hold a candlelight vigil, how many
people did each dead rat empower?
6. A red sock, a yellow sock, a blue sock, and a white
sock are tossed randomly in a drawer. What is the
likelihood that the first two socks drawn will be
socks of color?
7. George weighs 245 pounds and drinks two triple
lattes every morning while working on his laptop. If
each shot of espresso contains 490mg of caffeine, what
is George's average caffeine density in mg/pound?
8. There are 4500 homes in Mill Valley and all of them
recycle plastic. If each household recycles 10 soda
bottles a day and buys one polar fleece pullover per
month, does Mill Valley have a monthly plastic surplus
or deficit? (Bonus question: Assuming all the plastic
bottles are 1 liter size, how much Evian are they
drinking?)
9. If the average person can eat one pork pot sticker
in 30 seconds, and the waitress brings a platter of 12
pot stickers, how long will it take five vegans to not
eat them?
10. Todd begins walking down Market Street with 12 $1
bills in his wallet. If he always gives panhandlers a
single buck, how many legs did he have to step over if
he has $3 left when he reaches the other end and met
only one double-amputee?
Advanced Placement Students Only:
11. Katie, Trip, Ling, John-John and Effie share a
three-bedroom apartment on Guerrero for $2400 a month.
Effie and Trip can share one bedroom, but the other
three need their own rooms with separate ISDN lines to
run their web servers. None of them wants to use the
futon in the living room as a bed, and they each want
to save $650 in three months to attend Burning Man.
What is their best option:
a. All five roommates accept a $12/hour job-share as
handgun monitors at Mission High.
b. Ask Miles, the bisexual auto mechanic, to share
Effie and Trip's bedroom for $500/month.
c. Petition the Board of Supervisors to advance Ling
her annual digital-artists-of-color stipend.
d. Rent strike.
I added: If Dan and Renee walk down 24th Street at one block every two minutes, to go to Barney's Burgers, how many strollers will they dodge, and how many babies named Hunter will drool on their Campers?
20 Clues a Woman Should Call it a Night...
> > 1. I have absolutely no idea where my purse is.
> > 2. I believe that dancing with my arms overhead and wiggling my
> > bootay while yelling WOO-HOO is truly the sexiest dance move around.
> > 3. I've suddenly decided I want to kick someone's @ss and
> > honestly believe I could do it too.
> > 4. In my last trip to "pee" I realize I now look more like Tammy
> > Faye Baker than the goddess I was just four hours ago.
> > 5 . I drop my 3:00 a.m. submarine on the floor (which I'm eating
> > even though I'm not the least bit hungry), pick it up and carry on
eating
> > it.
> > 6. I start crying and telling everyone I see that I love them sooooo
much.
> > 7. There are less than three hours before I'm due to start work.
> > 8. I've found a deeper/spiritual side to the geek sitting next to me.
> > 9. The man I'm flirting with used to be my 5th grade teacher.
> > 10 . The urge to take off articles of clothing, stand on a table and
> > sing or dance becomes strangely overwhelming.
> > 11. My eyes just don't seem to want to stay open on their own so I
> > keep them half closed and think it looks exotically sexy.
> > 12. I've suddenly taken up smoking and become really good at it.
> > 13. I yell at the bartender, who (I think) cheated me by giving me
> > just lemonade, but that's just because I can no longer taste the gin.
> > 14. I think I'm in bed, but my pillow feels strangely like the kitchen
> > floor.
> > 15. I start every conversation with a booming, "DON'T take this
> > the WRONG WAY but..."
> > 16. I fail to notice that the toilet lid's down when I sit on it.
> > 17. My hugs begin to resemble wrestling take-down moves.
> > 18. I'm tired so I just sit on the floor (wherever I happen to be
> > standing) and take a quick nap.
> > 19. I begin leaving the buttons open on my button fly pants to cut
> > down on the time I'm in the bathroom away from my drink.
> > 20. I take my shoes off because I believe it's their fault that I'm
> > having problems walking straight.
Thankfully I can't testify to this behavior in recent years, but there was a time ladies and gentleman, when this was a routine night out for Your Majesty. With a bit of vomiting and police action thrown in for good measure. At least five nights a week for three years. I've come a long way baby!
> > 1. I have absolutely no idea where my purse is.
> > 2. I believe that dancing with my arms overhead and wiggling my
> > bootay while yelling WOO-HOO is truly the sexiest dance move around.
> > 3. I've suddenly decided I want to kick someone's @ss and
> > honestly believe I could do it too.
> > 4. In my last trip to "pee" I realize I now look more like Tammy
> > Faye Baker than the goddess I was just four hours ago.
> > 5 . I drop my 3:00 a.m. submarine on the floor (which I'm eating
> > even though I'm not the least bit hungry), pick it up and carry on
eating
> > it.
> > 6. I start crying and telling everyone I see that I love them sooooo
much.
> > 7. There are less than three hours before I'm due to start work.
> > 8. I've found a deeper/spiritual side to the geek sitting next to me.
> > 9. The man I'm flirting with used to be my 5th grade teacher.
> > 10 . The urge to take off articles of clothing, stand on a table and
> > sing or dance becomes strangely overwhelming.
> > 11. My eyes just don't seem to want to stay open on their own so I
> > keep them half closed and think it looks exotically sexy.
> > 12. I've suddenly taken up smoking and become really good at it.
> > 13. I yell at the bartender, who (I think) cheated me by giving me
> > just lemonade, but that's just because I can no longer taste the gin.
> > 14. I think I'm in bed, but my pillow feels strangely like the kitchen
> > floor.
> > 15. I start every conversation with a booming, "DON'T take this
> > the WRONG WAY but..."
> > 16. I fail to notice that the toilet lid's down when I sit on it.
> > 17. My hugs begin to resemble wrestling take-down moves.
> > 18. I'm tired so I just sit on the floor (wherever I happen to be
> > standing) and take a quick nap.
> > 19. I begin leaving the buttons open on my button fly pants to cut
> > down on the time I'm in the bathroom away from my drink.
> > 20. I take my shoes off because I believe it's their fault that I'm
> > having problems walking straight.
Thankfully I can't testify to this behavior in recent years, but there was a time ladies and gentleman, when this was a routine night out for Your Majesty. With a bit of vomiting and police action thrown in for good measure. At least five nights a week for three years. I've come a long way baby!
This is what happens when you have no job.
A Blind man goes into a bar. He finds his way to a bar stool and orders a
drink. After sitting there for a while, he yells to the bartender, "Hey,
you wanna hear a blonde joke?"
The bar immediately falls absolutely quiet. In a very deep, husky voice
the woman next to him says, "Before you tell that joke, sir, you should
know five things .....
1. The bartender is a blonde girl.
2. The bouncer is a blonde gal.
3. I'm a 6 feet tall, 200 pound blonde woman with a black belt in karate.
4. The woman sitting next to me is blonde and is a professional
weightlifter.
5. The lady to your right is a blonde and is a professional wrestler.
Now think about it seriously, Mister. Do you still wanna tell that joke?"
The blind man thinks for a second, shakes his head, and declares, "Nah,
not if I'm gonna have to explain it five times."
A Blind man goes into a bar. He finds his way to a bar stool and orders a
drink. After sitting there for a while, he yells to the bartender, "Hey,
you wanna hear a blonde joke?"
The bar immediately falls absolutely quiet. In a very deep, husky voice
the woman next to him says, "Before you tell that joke, sir, you should
know five things .....
1. The bartender is a blonde girl.
2. The bouncer is a blonde gal.
3. I'm a 6 feet tall, 200 pound blonde woman with a black belt in karate.
4. The woman sitting next to me is blonde and is a professional
weightlifter.
5. The lady to your right is a blonde and is a professional wrestler.
Now think about it seriously, Mister. Do you still wanna tell that joke?"
The blind man thinks for a second, shakes his head, and declares, "Nah,
not if I'm gonna have to explain it five times."
Stretching it just a bit? Maaaaaybe. I can see how one might see the resemblance, but I cannot see how one convinced enough others to gain international attention.
January 26, 2003
Coincidence?
I'm constantly asked what we talk about at my weekly Ladees Nite. Most men assume all we do is male bash. This isn't true. We cover a myriad of topics including current events, cooking, parenting, and our careers. It's not intentional that the conversation steers in the direction of the opposite sex. Last Wednesday we were discussing the characteristics of autism. With our combined knowledge we knew that people with autism liked to be squished, they like dark spaces, they see people as objects, they don't understand emotion, and can get lost in repetition. Before long we realized the same characteristics were true of the penis. I decided to do a brief internet search of other symptoms of autism, and sure enough, you could diagnose every male organ with this enigmatic disease.
MAJOR SYMPTOMS OF AUTISM
1. Failure to develop normal socialization
-can’t develop normal social skills
-can’t show emotion
-apathetic and unresponsive
-little or no eye contact
-people used as a "means to an end", as tools
-inability to relate to the world
2. Disturbances in Speech, Language, and Communication
-second major symptom: speech problems.
- 40% of kids with autism do not speak at all
-Have echolalia (link to page with key terms)
-Pragmatics (non verbal communication /social interactions is impaired.
3. Abnormal Relationships to Objects and Events
-unable to relate normally to things and events.
-many have a "need for sameness" and may become upset if their environment/schedule is changed.
-need for routine.
-playing by self, lining up items, etc.
-responses to playing, etc, may change with time.
4. Abnormal Responses to Sensory Stimulation
-respond to stimuli differently: ex. "we" filter out car alarms, police alarms, autistic children don’t and may cover their ears, shout, etc.
-tendency to "overattend" some things and "underattend" others.
-may even seem deaf at times.
-may be fascinated with letters, lights, etc.
-enjoy being thrown in the air or spinning.
-may be indifferent to cold or pain.
The following list, developed by the National Society for Children and Adults with Autism portrays the signs and symptoms of autism. If a child exhibits 7 or more of these behaviors and if the behavior is constant and age inappropriate, further evaluation is recommended.
Resists normal teaching methods
Inappropriate laughing and giggling
Lack of speech or impaired speech
Acts as if deaf
No fear of real dangers
Apparent insensitivity to pain
Echolalic
Spins objects
Not cuddly
Sustained odd play
Uneven fine/gross motor skills: May not be able to kick a ball but can stack blocks.
No eye contact
Standoffish manner
Difficulty in mixing with other children
Resists change in routine
Unusual perceptual stimuli: Looking “through” people.
Inappropriate attachments to objects
Marked physical overactivity or extreme passivity
Crying tantrums: Extreme distress for no discernible reason.
I'm constantly asked what we talk about at my weekly Ladees Nite. Most men assume all we do is male bash. This isn't true. We cover a myriad of topics including current events, cooking, parenting, and our careers. It's not intentional that the conversation steers in the direction of the opposite sex. Last Wednesday we were discussing the characteristics of autism. With our combined knowledge we knew that people with autism liked to be squished, they like dark spaces, they see people as objects, they don't understand emotion, and can get lost in repetition. Before long we realized the same characteristics were true of the penis. I decided to do a brief internet search of other symptoms of autism, and sure enough, you could diagnose every male organ with this enigmatic disease.
MAJOR SYMPTOMS OF AUTISM
1. Failure to develop normal socialization
-can’t develop normal social skills
-can’t show emotion
-apathetic and unresponsive
-little or no eye contact
-people used as a "means to an end", as tools
-inability to relate to the world
2. Disturbances in Speech, Language, and Communication
-second major symptom: speech problems.
- 40% of kids with autism do not speak at all
-Have echolalia (link to page with key terms)
-Pragmatics (non verbal communication /social interactions is impaired.
3. Abnormal Relationships to Objects and Events
-unable to relate normally to things and events.
-many have a "need for sameness" and may become upset if their environment/schedule is changed.
-need for routine.
-playing by self, lining up items, etc.
-responses to playing, etc, may change with time.
4. Abnormal Responses to Sensory Stimulation
-respond to stimuli differently: ex. "we" filter out car alarms, police alarms, autistic children don’t and may cover their ears, shout, etc.
-tendency to "overattend" some things and "underattend" others.
-may even seem deaf at times.
-may be fascinated with letters, lights, etc.
-enjoy being thrown in the air or spinning.
-may be indifferent to cold or pain.
The following list, developed by the National Society for Children and Adults with Autism portrays the signs and symptoms of autism. If a child exhibits 7 or more of these behaviors and if the behavior is constant and age inappropriate, further evaluation is recommended.
Resists normal teaching methods
Inappropriate laughing and giggling
Lack of speech or impaired speech
Acts as if deaf
No fear of real dangers
Apparent insensitivity to pain
Echolalic
Spins objects
Not cuddly
Sustained odd play
Uneven fine/gross motor skills: May not be able to kick a ball but can stack blocks.
No eye contact
Standoffish manner
Difficulty in mixing with other children
Resists change in routine
Unusual perceptual stimuli: Looking “through” people.
Inappropriate attachments to objects
Marked physical overactivity or extreme passivity
Crying tantrums: Extreme distress for no discernible reason.
Make Sure Your Connected
-Stereo MC's
Your Majesty is coming to you live and direct from her bedroom. If I'm not mistaken, I am the last person I know to finally merge onto the information super highway from the comfort of my own home. Graciously donated by my angel of a friend Becca, I have a couple of bonuses too, like free internet and a cd burner. I see many 3am postings in my future boys and girls.
-Stereo MC's
Your Majesty is coming to you live and direct from her bedroom. If I'm not mistaken, I am the last person I know to finally merge onto the information super highway from the comfort of my own home. Graciously donated by my angel of a friend Becca, I have a couple of bonuses too, like free internet and a cd burner. I see many 3am postings in my future boys and girls.
January 25, 2003
I know. It's been entirely too long, but I don't have much computer access now that I'm unemployed. Oh yes, within a week I comforted my dying great-grandmother, learned much about my biological father for the first time in my life, and got canned. It's been heavy, but I'm confident with time it will all be manageable once again. Thanks bunches for all of your concerned emails. It feels good to be missed!
January 09, 2003
The Best Part of Waking Up
I keep my dream journal in my bathroom so that first thing when I wake up I can jot down my twisted visions from the night. I was writing in it this morning and I noticed an entry on the following page in someone else's handwriting that read "Suck it long, suck it hard, but make no mistake you will suck it" signed Bill Clinton. The only thing I can think of is that someone who's been over my house thought it was a bathroom guestbook.
I keep my dream journal in my bathroom so that first thing when I wake up I can jot down my twisted visions from the night. I was writing in it this morning and I noticed an entry on the following page in someone else's handwriting that read "Suck it long, suck it hard, but make no mistake you will suck it" signed Bill Clinton. The only thing I can think of is that someone who's been over my house thought it was a bathroom guestbook.
January 08, 2003
Super therapy on Monday. It's unbelievable how much relief I get from simply labeling the residual emotions from my past. I've always had the healthy attitude of allowing myself to feel everything but not to stay there. That's important to keep in mind because when 20 year-old pain comes flooding to the surface, I don't want to drown in it. I spent so much of my youth parenting myself, that I haven't taken a break to enjoy who I've become. Insert hokey mantra here-2003 is all about me! Actually it's always been about me, but I thought it was funny that it happened to rhyme.
from an email:
REASONS WHY THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE IS SO HARD TO LEARN
1. The bandage was wound around the wound.
2. The farm was used to produce produce.
3. The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.
4. We must polish the Polish furniture.
5. He could lead if he would get the lead out.
6. The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.
7. Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to
present the present.
8. A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.
9. When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.
10. I did not object to the object
11. The insurance was invalid for the invalid.
12. There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.
13. They were too close to the door to close it.
14. The buck does funny things when the does are present.
15. A seamstress and a sewer fell down into the sewer.
16. To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.
17. The wind was too strong to wind the sail.
18. After a number of injections my jaw got number.
19. Upon seeing the tear in the painting, I shed a tear.
20. I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.
21. How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?
Let's face it - English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger, neither apple nor
pine in pineapple. English muffins weren't invented in England or
French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads,
which aren't sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we
explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing
rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a
pig.
And why is it that writers write, but fingers don't fing, grocers don't
groce and hammers don't ham?
If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural of booth beeth?
One goose, two geese. So one moose, two meese?
One index, two indices?
Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend?
If you have a bunch of odds and ends, and get rid of all but one of
them, what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats
vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
Sometimes I think all English speakers should be committed to an asylum
for the verbally insane.
In what language do people recite a play and play at a recital?
Ship by truck and send cargo by ship?
Have noses that run and feet that smell?
How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man
and a wise guy are opposites?
You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your
house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by
filling it out and in which, an alarm goes off by going on. English
was invented by people and not computers and it reflects the creativity
of the human race, which, of course, is not a race at all. That is why,
when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out,
they are invisible.
P.S. Why doesn't BUICK rhyme with QUICK?
REASONS WHY THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE IS SO HARD TO LEARN
1. The bandage was wound around the wound.
2. The farm was used to produce produce.
3. The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.
4. We must polish the Polish furniture.
5. He could lead if he would get the lead out.
6. The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.
7. Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to
present the present.
8. A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.
9. When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.
10. I did not object to the object
11. The insurance was invalid for the invalid.
12. There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.
13. They were too close to the door to close it.
14. The buck does funny things when the does are present.
15. A seamstress and a sewer fell down into the sewer.
16. To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.
17. The wind was too strong to wind the sail.
18. After a number of injections my jaw got number.
19. Upon seeing the tear in the painting, I shed a tear.
20. I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.
21. How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?
Let's face it - English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger, neither apple nor
pine in pineapple. English muffins weren't invented in England or
French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads,
which aren't sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we
explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing
rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a
pig.
And why is it that writers write, but fingers don't fing, grocers don't
groce and hammers don't ham?
If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural of booth beeth?
One goose, two geese. So one moose, two meese?
One index, two indices?
Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend?
If you have a bunch of odds and ends, and get rid of all but one of
them, what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats
vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
Sometimes I think all English speakers should be committed to an asylum
for the verbally insane.
In what language do people recite a play and play at a recital?
Ship by truck and send cargo by ship?
Have noses that run and feet that smell?
How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man
and a wise guy are opposites?
You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your
house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by
filling it out and in which, an alarm goes off by going on. English
was invented by people and not computers and it reflects the creativity
of the human race, which, of course, is not a race at all. That is why,
when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out,
they are invisible.
P.S. Why doesn't BUICK rhyme with QUICK?
January 07, 2003
And now the post you've all been waiting for.........It all began at 8:30 in the morning, and ended way too late. So without further ado........my prize post.......
The 16 Hours of Christmas
In the first hour of Christmas my good friend gave to me, a make-shift bloody mary.
In the second hour of Christmas I had a bite to eat. A tiny piece of bunt cake, and another make-shift bloody mary.
In the third hour of Christmas we opened all of our gifts. I got a picture frame, I gave away soap, and had another bloody mary.
In the fourth hour of Christmas I had a little weed. Drunk dialed the family, ran to the market, began drinking screwdrivers, and ran around in our jammies.
In the fifth hour of Christmas we were visited by friends, and draaaank mooooore booooze. Supervised the stew, played holiday music, took some naughty pix, and got ready for the party.
In the sixth hour of Christmas we arrived at our friend's place. Draaaank moooore booooze, played with spin art, gabbed gabbed gabbed, nibbled on the goodies, and ran around like wild monkeys.
In the seventh hour of Christmas I discovered Champagne punch. We opened all our presents, draaaank moooore booooze, I got a little purse and a book, I gave away soaps, and I got some aromotherapy.
In the eighth hour of Christmas we welcomed more guests. Tried to play Cranium, had a drunked jam session, draaaank moooore booooze, danced around like nuts, ate yummy biscuits, played with our new stuff, all the while in our jammies.
In the ninth hour of Christmas we discussed circumcision. Hung out on the balcony, hollered in the halls, draaaank moooore booooze, had drunken heart to hearts, received strange calls from boys, refilled my solo cup, and had sore cheeks from smiling all day.
In the tenth hour of Christmas we rolled around on the floor. Celebrated a new engagement, painted an ass with HO HO, played on the keyboard, stuffed toys in our pants, discussed where we like to be kissed, draaaank moooore booooze, shared our thoughts on "grooming", flashed in our p-jammas, and thought about going to a bar.
In the eleventh hour of Christmas some of us took off. Drove by The Stud, drove by The End Up, found The Shotwell open, draaaank moooore boooze, I discovered Chimay, played the longest game of pool ever, and livened up a bar on Christmas night.
In the twelfth hour of Christmas we flirted with an Irish lad. Played more pool, picked at a day old turkey, smoked like chimneys, draaaank moooore booooze, giggled non-stop, tried to hold our booze, argued with a Mexican, and peeled layers off as we finally got warm.
In the thirteenth hour of Christmas we saw a gay Puerto Rican’s penis. Danced to 80's rock, bonded with my friends, draaaank moooore booooze, pledged ourselves as Hindus, played pool with the Mexican, and ordered ourselves another round.
In the fourteenth hour of Christmas we started to feel the pain. I had a heart to heart with the Mexican, tried desperately to articulate, draaaank moooore booooze, flashed my festive undies, got reprimanded by the bartender, thought about going home, and asked each other when it all went wrong.
In the fifteenth hour of Christmas we met Zack. Tried to determine if the Irishman was gay or straight, draaaank-you know, made big party plans for next Christmas, thought about going home, and asked each other when it all went wrong.
In the sixteenth hour of Christmas we went to the Irish guy’s flat. Searched the place for liquor, remained close to the exits, staaaarted toooo yaaaawn, kept quite for the sleeping roomie, drilled Zack about his girl, and finally drug our sorry asses home!
The 16 Hours of Christmas
In the first hour of Christmas my good friend gave to me, a make-shift bloody mary.
In the second hour of Christmas I had a bite to eat. A tiny piece of bunt cake, and another make-shift bloody mary.
In the third hour of Christmas we opened all of our gifts. I got a picture frame, I gave away soap, and had another bloody mary.
In the fourth hour of Christmas I had a little weed. Drunk dialed the family, ran to the market, began drinking screwdrivers, and ran around in our jammies.
In the fifth hour of Christmas we were visited by friends, and draaaank mooooore booooze. Supervised the stew, played holiday music, took some naughty pix, and got ready for the party.
In the sixth hour of Christmas we arrived at our friend's place. Draaaank moooore booooze, played with spin art, gabbed gabbed gabbed, nibbled on the goodies, and ran around like wild monkeys.
In the seventh hour of Christmas I discovered Champagne punch. We opened all our presents, draaaank moooore booooze, I got a little purse and a book, I gave away soaps, and I got some aromotherapy.
In the eighth hour of Christmas we welcomed more guests. Tried to play Cranium, had a drunked jam session, draaaank moooore booooze, danced around like nuts, ate yummy biscuits, played with our new stuff, all the while in our jammies.
In the ninth hour of Christmas we discussed circumcision. Hung out on the balcony, hollered in the halls, draaaank moooore booooze, had drunken heart to hearts, received strange calls from boys, refilled my solo cup, and had sore cheeks from smiling all day.
In the tenth hour of Christmas we rolled around on the floor. Celebrated a new engagement, painted an ass with HO HO, played on the keyboard, stuffed toys in our pants, discussed where we like to be kissed, draaaank moooore booooze, shared our thoughts on "grooming", flashed in our p-jammas, and thought about going to a bar.
In the eleventh hour of Christmas some of us took off. Drove by The Stud, drove by The End Up, found The Shotwell open, draaaank moooore boooze, I discovered Chimay, played the longest game of pool ever, and livened up a bar on Christmas night.
In the twelfth hour of Christmas we flirted with an Irish lad. Played more pool, picked at a day old turkey, smoked like chimneys, draaaank moooore booooze, giggled non-stop, tried to hold our booze, argued with a Mexican, and peeled layers off as we finally got warm.
In the thirteenth hour of Christmas we saw a gay Puerto Rican’s penis. Danced to 80's rock, bonded with my friends, draaaank moooore booooze, pledged ourselves as Hindus, played pool with the Mexican, and ordered ourselves another round.
In the fourteenth hour of Christmas we started to feel the pain. I had a heart to heart with the Mexican, tried desperately to articulate, draaaank moooore booooze, flashed my festive undies, got reprimanded by the bartender, thought about going home, and asked each other when it all went wrong.
In the fifteenth hour of Christmas we met Zack. Tried to determine if the Irishman was gay or straight, draaaank-you know, made big party plans for next Christmas, thought about going home, and asked each other when it all went wrong.
In the sixteenth hour of Christmas we went to the Irish guy’s flat. Searched the place for liquor, remained close to the exits, staaaarted toooo yaaaawn, kept quite for the sleeping roomie, drilled Zack about his girl, and finally drug our sorry asses home!
YOU might be offended, but I can't stop laughing! Be sure to move your mouse around to find all of the hidden links. ivan-the
January 06, 2003
What’s a Night Out Without a Theme?
So back in November my co-worker friend and I decided to start our Turkey Day vacation with a bang by going dancing at Minna and then going to see Lords of Acid at the Fillmore. Initially the theme was “Rockstar”, like larger than life clothes, obnoxious sunglasses, and passing remarks about cocaine and musicians. My friend had on black boots, blue jeans, a $3.40 Mission find black t-shirt with a Precious Moments girl and a caption that read “I may not have much, but with God I have it all”, and to top it all off, a blindingly gold jacket made by designer Comme des Garcons. I donned brown boots, brown crushed velvet/some sort of animal hair pants, a white button up shirt that provided full view of my nipples, and a lovely pair of J.Lo-esque sunglasses with pink lenses. I even feathered my hair.
Once inside Minna, our characters came alive. Somehow, very early on, we became Eurotrash Rockstars. We used terribly muttled accents, we said ‘fuck’ a LOT, we pushed people, we were loud, and we kept our sunglasses on indoors. Many people approached me saying that the magnetism of myself and my friends drew them in. I had boys asking if I would just stand next to them so they would look cool. My partner in crime would occasionally tell the boys to stop looking at my breasts because “They are to give baby life not for lust” in a bad, bad accent. I had the opportunity many times to look boys up and down and snobbily declare, “I do not sink so” when they would ask for my number. A couple of hours of insolence, and we headed out for Round 2 of debauchery with The Lords of Acid.
The posse was a bit peckish so we made a bee line for the Fillmore Café where they serve, no exaggeration, the best burgers in the universe. We were still in character when the counter person brought our food over and we decided to be silly and tell the guy “Fuck you good burger”! and give him a thumbs up. You know, as if we didn't’t know the proper American exclamation for approval of something. The counter man was less than enthused. He said he didn't appreciate the foul language and gave us terrible stink eye as he went back into the kitchen. Let me get this straight. We’re at The Fillmore. To see The Lords of Acid. What’s wrong with a little good humored cursing? I had had a couple of brews and I took it upon my self to be the peacemaker. I walked up to the counter and asked if he was serious or just pulling our leg. With an expressionless face he answered that we was highly offended and that if I continued he would have me removed. I walked back to the table and mumbled under my breath, “Don’t be a dick ALL your life”. I relayed the message to the table and I was starting to get a little riled up when my friend says “Okay I’m going to break it down”. “How old do you think the guy is”? I said “I don’t know mid-thirties”? To which he answered “Exactly”! “And he serving food at The Fillmore”!
Now we’re down on the floor, mingling with the crowd and a cute boy with great nostrils starts chatting me up. I’m on my dating strike, but I can participate in innocent conversation right? I ask the guy where he likes to go out and he says he likes Bondage-A-Go-Go and The End Up. I thought he was flirting with me, but as you SF natives know, those are gay clubs, so I ask him if he likes boys or girls. He said that he likes girls, but that the music at gay clubs is just so much better. He says he has to beat the boys off with a stick, but it’s worth it. So I’m thinking okay, he not a homophobe, right on, and he really likes dancing, sounds good. Not too long after, I actually SEE him dancing and any attraction that could have developed left quicker than a frat boy on a dry campus. He danced like a flaming bottom! I wish I could find a video clip to give you an idea of how effeminate we’re talking, but just ask me the next time you see me and I’ll demonstrate. So I casually wander back over to my band of truly gay boys, ditching gay straight boy, and he happens upon us moments later. I excuse myself to the powder room and when I get back, the boys tell me they’ve invited him to join us at The Stud after the show. They were only trying to help, they obviously hadn’t seen him dance. Once at The Stud my pain became clear to the rest of the group. After dancing for about thirty minutes he shuffles over to our group and while holding his hair back and fanning himself like Scarlet O'Hara declares “Whooo, I’m overwhelmed”! “He’s even too gay for us” one of my friends exclaimed. I stayed for about an hour or so, conveniently heading towards the bar or powder room when the gay straight boy came into view. I found out a couple of weeks later that after I left he made out with a guy on the dance floor. Anyone up for theme night?
So back in November my co-worker friend and I decided to start our Turkey Day vacation with a bang by going dancing at Minna and then going to see Lords of Acid at the Fillmore. Initially the theme was “Rockstar”, like larger than life clothes, obnoxious sunglasses, and passing remarks about cocaine and musicians. My friend had on black boots, blue jeans, a $3.40 Mission find black t-shirt with a Precious Moments girl and a caption that read “I may not have much, but with God I have it all”, and to top it all off, a blindingly gold jacket made by designer Comme des Garcons. I donned brown boots, brown crushed velvet/some sort of animal hair pants, a white button up shirt that provided full view of my nipples, and a lovely pair of J.Lo-esque sunglasses with pink lenses. I even feathered my hair.
Once inside Minna, our characters came alive. Somehow, very early on, we became Eurotrash Rockstars. We used terribly muttled accents, we said ‘fuck’ a LOT, we pushed people, we were loud, and we kept our sunglasses on indoors. Many people approached me saying that the magnetism of myself and my friends drew them in. I had boys asking if I would just stand next to them so they would look cool. My partner in crime would occasionally tell the boys to stop looking at my breasts because “They are to give baby life not for lust” in a bad, bad accent. I had the opportunity many times to look boys up and down and snobbily declare, “I do not sink so” when they would ask for my number. A couple of hours of insolence, and we headed out for Round 2 of debauchery with The Lords of Acid.
The posse was a bit peckish so we made a bee line for the Fillmore Café where they serve, no exaggeration, the best burgers in the universe. We were still in character when the counter person brought our food over and we decided to be silly and tell the guy “Fuck you good burger”! and give him a thumbs up. You know, as if we didn't’t know the proper American exclamation for approval of something. The counter man was less than enthused. He said he didn't appreciate the foul language and gave us terrible stink eye as he went back into the kitchen. Let me get this straight. We’re at The Fillmore. To see The Lords of Acid. What’s wrong with a little good humored cursing? I had had a couple of brews and I took it upon my self to be the peacemaker. I walked up to the counter and asked if he was serious or just pulling our leg. With an expressionless face he answered that we was highly offended and that if I continued he would have me removed. I walked back to the table and mumbled under my breath, “Don’t be a dick ALL your life”. I relayed the message to the table and I was starting to get a little riled up when my friend says “Okay I’m going to break it down”. “How old do you think the guy is”? I said “I don’t know mid-thirties”? To which he answered “Exactly”! “And he serving food at The Fillmore”!
Now we’re down on the floor, mingling with the crowd and a cute boy with great nostrils starts chatting me up. I’m on my dating strike, but I can participate in innocent conversation right? I ask the guy where he likes to go out and he says he likes Bondage-A-Go-Go and The End Up. I thought he was flirting with me, but as you SF natives know, those are gay clubs, so I ask him if he likes boys or girls. He said that he likes girls, but that the music at gay clubs is just so much better. He says he has to beat the boys off with a stick, but it’s worth it. So I’m thinking okay, he not a homophobe, right on, and he really likes dancing, sounds good. Not too long after, I actually SEE him dancing and any attraction that could have developed left quicker than a frat boy on a dry campus. He danced like a flaming bottom! I wish I could find a video clip to give you an idea of how effeminate we’re talking, but just ask me the next time you see me and I’ll demonstrate. So I casually wander back over to my band of truly gay boys, ditching gay straight boy, and he happens upon us moments later. I excuse myself to the powder room and when I get back, the boys tell me they’ve invited him to join us at The Stud after the show. They were only trying to help, they obviously hadn’t seen him dance. Once at The Stud my pain became clear to the rest of the group. After dancing for about thirty minutes he shuffles over to our group and while holding his hair back and fanning himself like Scarlet O'Hara declares “Whooo, I’m overwhelmed”! “He’s even too gay for us” one of my friends exclaimed. I stayed for about an hour or so, conveniently heading towards the bar or powder room when the gay straight boy came into view. I found out a couple of weeks later that after I left he made out with a guy on the dance floor. Anyone up for theme night?
New Year's Day I went down to Ocean Beach to see Jim Denevan's sand design. It was a warmish and sunny day complete with giant kelp, a sand rose, a drum circle and a couple of older women dressed in hyper-colorful attire. Yay Mother Ocean!
spiral 1
spiral 2
look at the size of her!
by any other name
jammin'
colorful dame 1
colorful dame 2
spiral 1
spiral 2
look at the size of her!
by any other name
jammin'
colorful dame 1
colorful dame 2
January 03, 2003
Grrrrrr
I'm back in officeland today. I was supposed to work yesterday, but I got nauseous in the shower whilst thinking about facing my boss so I called in. I spent the day in bed reading, watching movies and napping. He wasn't so bad today, and I just kept laughing at my thoughts of how ridiculous he is. Anybody know of any job openings?
I'm back in officeland today. I was supposed to work yesterday, but I got nauseous in the shower whilst thinking about facing my boss so I called in. I spent the day in bed reading, watching movies and napping. He wasn't so bad today, and I just kept laughing at my thoughts of how ridiculous he is. Anybody know of any job openings?
January 01, 2003
December 31, 2002
December 30, 2002
SFMOMA
Body Design demonstrates the collaboration of technology and the human form. As we passed the 'Heat Seat' which works on the same principal as those bad sweatshirts of the 80's. My friend commented that we would no longer have to guess who 'dealt it'.
Architecture+Water gives us a peek into combining structure with the Earth's surface. There's a building called The Blur building that shoots jets of water outward all the way around the structure, so that it gives the illusion of a cloud of fog. You have to see it to understand it better.
My favorite modern artists were Joan Miro and Ad Reinhardt. They were fun and inventive, and drew me in.
Body Design demonstrates the collaboration of technology and the human form. As we passed the 'Heat Seat' which works on the same principal as those bad sweatshirts of the 80's. My friend commented that we would no longer have to guess who 'dealt it'.
Architecture+Water gives us a peek into combining structure with the Earth's surface. There's a building called The Blur building that shoots jets of water outward all the way around the structure, so that it gives the illusion of a cloud of fog. You have to see it to understand it better.
My favorite modern artists were Joan Miro and Ad Reinhardt. They were fun and inventive, and drew me in.
December 29, 2002
Can It Be?
that your Majesty had a wonderful date? I went out with the English guy that I met at SuperBooty back in November. Some nice culture at the SFMOMA, a couple of pints at Dave's, a down home bar, and a fantastic meal at LuLu. He was comfortable to talk to, funny, nice to wait staff (even after his meal was severely late), has NO interest in dating and/or sleeping with a man, and I enjoyed smooching him. Would certainly go on a second date. I know he's reading so, if my manners escaped me last night, thanks a bunch for a groovy day.
that your Majesty had a wonderful date? I went out with the English guy that I met at SuperBooty back in November. Some nice culture at the SFMOMA, a couple of pints at Dave's, a down home bar, and a fantastic meal at LuLu. He was comfortable to talk to, funny, nice to wait staff (even after his meal was severely late), has NO interest in dating and/or sleeping with a man, and I enjoyed smooching him. Would certainly go on a second date. I know he's reading so, if my manners escaped me last night, thanks a bunch for a groovy day.
Easy Like Sunday Morning
My gay boyfriend dropped off his house key this morning so that I could puppysit while he's in Tahoe. He came by around 7am and put it under my doormat. I woke up around 9am, opened the front door, saw the bulge under the mat, pulled the mat back, and I couldn't help but guffaw at the key chain. In gold lettering on a black background it simply read "BITCH".
My gay boyfriend dropped off his house key this morning so that I could puppysit while he's in Tahoe. He came by around 7am and put it under my doormat. I woke up around 9am, opened the front door, saw the bulge under the mat, pulled the mat back, and I couldn't help but guffaw at the key chain. In gold lettering on a black background it simply read "BITCH".
December 28, 2002
Brief Update
Oh my loyal little subjects, how I've missed the glow of a monitor, the music of the keys. I've been jonzing to blog like Louie Anderson for a doughnut. But I'm having a great break from the office and you can be sure that some shocking reading material and photos are on the way when I have more time. I checked my hosting stats, and the number of QR readers increases everyday! Be sure to tell all of your friends about my Kingdom. Or should that be Queendom?
So I just learned that my great-grandma in Illinois is touch and go, so I'm on stand-by. I told my relatives to call me before it's too late because I refuse to go to her funeral. I was fortunate enough to see my great-grandpa just before he passed year before last, and I want the same opportunity with her. It's strange because she's my "not so nice grandma" that you've heard of, preaching to me that I'm useless without a man, griping because I move so much, generally telling me how disappointed she is in me my whole life. I don't believe any of it, but you still don't want to hear it from your little old grandma. She was strong and sharp until just a few months ago, and it's heartbreaking to hear her competence decline.
Oh my loyal little subjects, how I've missed the glow of a monitor, the music of the keys. I've been jonzing to blog like Louie Anderson for a doughnut. But I'm having a great break from the office and you can be sure that some shocking reading material and photos are on the way when I have more time. I checked my hosting stats, and the number of QR readers increases everyday! Be sure to tell all of your friends about my Kingdom. Or should that be Queendom?
So I just learned that my great-grandma in Illinois is touch and go, so I'm on stand-by. I told my relatives to call me before it's too late because I refuse to go to her funeral. I was fortunate enough to see my great-grandpa just before he passed year before last, and I want the same opportunity with her. It's strange because she's my "not so nice grandma" that you've heard of, preaching to me that I'm useless without a man, griping because I move so much, generally telling me how disappointed she is in me my whole life. I don't believe any of it, but you still don't want to hear it from your little old grandma. She was strong and sharp until just a few months ago, and it's heartbreaking to hear her competence decline.
December 20, 2002
Mmmmmm, Pine!
I went to Home Depot with my friend and we picked us out a mighty nice tree. I'm no expert tie a tree to the roofer, and I was a tad frightened.
oh please don't blow off, please don't blow off!
Does this tree make my butt look big?
I went to Home Depot with my friend and we picked us out a mighty nice tree. I'm no expert tie a tree to the roofer, and I was a tad frightened.
oh please don't blow off, please don't blow off!
Does this tree make my butt look big?
December 19, 2002
from an email
(Sung to the tune of "If You're Happy And You Know It
Clap Your
Hands")
If we cannot find Osama, bomb Iraq.
If the markets hurt your Mama, bomb Iraq.
If the terrorists are Saudi
And the bank takes back your Audi
And the TV shows are bawdy,
Bomb Iraq.
If the corporate scandals growin', bomb Iraq.
And your ties to them are showin', bomb Iraq.
If the smoking gun ain't smokin'
We don't care, and we're not jokin'.
That Saddam will soon be croakin',
Bomb Iraq.
Even if we have no allies, bomb Iraq.
From the sand dunes to the valleys, bomb Iraq.
So to hell with the inspections;
Let's look tough for the elections,
Close your mind and take directions,
Bomb Iraq.
While the globe is slowly warming, bomb Iraq.
Yay! the clouds of war are storming, bomb Iraq.
If the ozone hole is growing,
Some things we prefer not knowing.
(Though our ignorance is showing),
Bomb Iraq.
So here's one for dear old daddy, bomb Iraq,
From his favorite little laddy, bomb Iraq.
Saying no would look like treason.
It's the Hussein hunting season.
Even if we have no reason,
Bomb Iraq.
(Sung to the tune of "If You're Happy And You Know It
Clap Your
Hands")
If we cannot find Osama, bomb Iraq.
If the markets hurt your Mama, bomb Iraq.
If the terrorists are Saudi
And the bank takes back your Audi
And the TV shows are bawdy,
Bomb Iraq.
If the corporate scandals growin', bomb Iraq.
And your ties to them are showin', bomb Iraq.
If the smoking gun ain't smokin'
We don't care, and we're not jokin'.
That Saddam will soon be croakin',
Bomb Iraq.
Even if we have no allies, bomb Iraq.
From the sand dunes to the valleys, bomb Iraq.
So to hell with the inspections;
Let's look tough for the elections,
Close your mind and take directions,
Bomb Iraq.
While the globe is slowly warming, bomb Iraq.
Yay! the clouds of war are storming, bomb Iraq.
If the ozone hole is growing,
Some things we prefer not knowing.
(Though our ignorance is showing),
Bomb Iraq.
So here's one for dear old daddy, bomb Iraq,
From his favorite little laddy, bomb Iraq.
Saying no would look like treason.
It's the Hussein hunting season.
Even if we have no reason,
Bomb Iraq.
So tonight is article344's big night. I hope the weather doesn't keep people away. This is a triumph for both of us since it's his first show and my first success as an art promoter. Cloud 9 on 7th just below Market from 5-10 tonight. Drop by!
December 18, 2002
From an email
DEMOCRAT:
You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
You feel guilty for being successful.
You vote people into office that put a tax on your cows, forcing
you to sell one to raise money to pay the tax. The people you
voted for then take the tax money, buy a cow and give it to your
neighbor. You feel righteous.
Barbara Streisand sings for you.
SOCIALIST:
You have two cows.
The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor. You form
a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.
REPUBLICAN:
You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
So?
COMMUNIST:
You have two cows.
The government seizes both and provides you with milk. You wait
in line for hours to get it. It is expensive and sour.
CAPITALISM, AMERICAN STYLE:
You have two cows.
You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.
DEMOCRACY, AMERICAN STYLE:
You have two cows.
The government taxes you to the point you have to sell both to
support a man in a foreign country who has only one cow, which
was a gift from your government.
BUREAUCRACY, AMERICAN STYLE:
You have two cows.
The government takes them both, shoots one, milks the other,
pays you for the milk, and then pours the milk down the drain.
AMERICAN CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You sell one, lease it back to yourself and do an IPO on the 2nd one.
You force the two cows to produce the milk of four cows. You are
surprised when one cow drops dead. You spin an announcement to
the analysts stating you have downsized and are reducing
expenses. Your stock goes up.
FRENCH CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You go on strike because you want three cows.
You go to lunch. Life is good.
JAPANESE CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary
cow and produce twenty times the milk. They learn to travel on
unbelievably crowded trains. Most are at the top of their class at cow
school.
GERMAN CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You engineer them so they are all blond, drink lots of beer,
give excellent quality milk, and run a hundred miles an hour.
Unfortunately they also demand 13 weeks of vacation per year.
ITALIAN CORPORATION:
You have two cows but you don't know where they are. While
ambling around, you see a beautiful woman. You break for lunch.
Life is good.
RUSSIAN CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You have some more vodka.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
You count them again and learn you have 12 cows.
You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka. You
produce your 10th, 5-year plan in the last 3 months. The Mafia
shows up and takes over however many cows you really have.
TALIBAN CORPORATION:
You have all the cows in Afghanistan, which are two. You don't
milk them because you cannot touch any creature's private parts.
At night when no one is looking, you have sex with both of them.
Then you kill them and claim a US bomb blew them up
while they were in the hospital.
POLISH CORPORATION:
You have two bulls.
Employees are regularly maimed and killed attempting to milk them.
FLORIDA CORPORATION:
You have a black cow and a brown cow.
Everyone votes for the best looking one.
Some of the people who like the brown one best,
vote for the black one.
Some people vote for both.
Some people vote for neither.
Some people can't figure out how to vote at all. Finally, a
bunch of guys from out-of-state tell you which is the best-looking one.
NEW YORK CORPORATION:
You have fifteen million cows.
You have to choose which one will be the leader of the herd, so you pick
some fat cow from Arkansas.
DEMOCRAT:
You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
You feel guilty for being successful.
You vote people into office that put a tax on your cows, forcing
you to sell one to raise money to pay the tax. The people you
voted for then take the tax money, buy a cow and give it to your
neighbor. You feel righteous.
Barbara Streisand sings for you.
SOCIALIST:
You have two cows.
The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor. You form
a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.
REPUBLICAN:
You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
So?
COMMUNIST:
You have two cows.
The government seizes both and provides you with milk. You wait
in line for hours to get it. It is expensive and sour.
CAPITALISM, AMERICAN STYLE:
You have two cows.
You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.
DEMOCRACY, AMERICAN STYLE:
You have two cows.
The government taxes you to the point you have to sell both to
support a man in a foreign country who has only one cow, which
was a gift from your government.
BUREAUCRACY, AMERICAN STYLE:
You have two cows.
The government takes them both, shoots one, milks the other,
pays you for the milk, and then pours the milk down the drain.
AMERICAN CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You sell one, lease it back to yourself and do an IPO on the 2nd one.
You force the two cows to produce the milk of four cows. You are
surprised when one cow drops dead. You spin an announcement to
the analysts stating you have downsized and are reducing
expenses. Your stock goes up.
FRENCH CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You go on strike because you want three cows.
You go to lunch. Life is good.
JAPANESE CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary
cow and produce twenty times the milk. They learn to travel on
unbelievably crowded trains. Most are at the top of their class at cow
school.
GERMAN CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You engineer them so they are all blond, drink lots of beer,
give excellent quality milk, and run a hundred miles an hour.
Unfortunately they also demand 13 weeks of vacation per year.
ITALIAN CORPORATION:
You have two cows but you don't know where they are. While
ambling around, you see a beautiful woman. You break for lunch.
Life is good.
RUSSIAN CORPORATION:
You have two cows.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You have some more vodka.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
You count them again and learn you have 12 cows.
You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka. You
produce your 10th, 5-year plan in the last 3 months. The Mafia
shows up and takes over however many cows you really have.
TALIBAN CORPORATION:
You have all the cows in Afghanistan, which are two. You don't
milk them because you cannot touch any creature's private parts.
At night when no one is looking, you have sex with both of them.
Then you kill them and claim a US bomb blew them up
while they were in the hospital.
POLISH CORPORATION:
You have two bulls.
Employees are regularly maimed and killed attempting to milk them.
FLORIDA CORPORATION:
You have a black cow and a brown cow.
Everyone votes for the best looking one.
Some of the people who like the brown one best,
vote for the black one.
Some people vote for both.
Some people vote for neither.
Some people can't figure out how to vote at all. Finally, a
bunch of guys from out-of-state tell you which is the best-looking one.
NEW YORK CORPORATION:
You have fifteen million cows.
You have to choose which one will be the leader of the herd, so you pick
some fat cow from Arkansas.
From an email
Start with a cage containing five monkeys. Inside the cage, hang a banana on
a string and place a set of stairs under it. Before long, a monkey will go
to the stairs and start to climb towards the banana. As soon as he touches
the stairs, spray all of the other monkeys with cold water.
After a while, another monkey makes an attempt with the same result all the
other monkeys are sprayed with cold water. Pretty soon, when another monkey
tries to climb the stairs, the other monkeys will try to prevent it.
Now, put away the cold water. Remove one monkey from the cage and replace it
with a new one. The new monkey sees the banana and wants to climb the
stairs. To his surprise and horror, all of the other monkeys attack him.
After another attempt and attack, he knows that if he tries to climb the
stairs, he will be assaulted.
Next, remove another of the original five monkeys and replace it with a new
one. The newcomer goes to the stairs and is attacked. The previous newcomer
takes part in the punishment with enthusiasm! Likewise, replace a third
original monkey with a new one, then a fourth, then the fifth. Every time
the newest monkey takes to the stairs, he is attacked.
Most of the monkeys that are beating him have no idea why they were not
permitted to climb the stairs or why they are participating in the beating
of the newest monkey.
After replacing all the original monkeys, none of the remaining monkeys have
ever been sprayed with cold water. Nevertheless, no monkey ever again
approaches the stairs to try for the banana. Why not? Because as far as they
know that's the way it's always been done around here.
And that, my friends, is how a company policy begins.
Start with a cage containing five monkeys. Inside the cage, hang a banana on
a string and place a set of stairs under it. Before long, a monkey will go
to the stairs and start to climb towards the banana. As soon as he touches
the stairs, spray all of the other monkeys with cold water.
After a while, another monkey makes an attempt with the same result all the
other monkeys are sprayed with cold water. Pretty soon, when another monkey
tries to climb the stairs, the other monkeys will try to prevent it.
Now, put away the cold water. Remove one monkey from the cage and replace it
with a new one. The new monkey sees the banana and wants to climb the
stairs. To his surprise and horror, all of the other monkeys attack him.
After another attempt and attack, he knows that if he tries to climb the
stairs, he will be assaulted.
Next, remove another of the original five monkeys and replace it with a new
one. The newcomer goes to the stairs and is attacked. The previous newcomer
takes part in the punishment with enthusiasm! Likewise, replace a third
original monkey with a new one, then a fourth, then the fifth. Every time
the newest monkey takes to the stairs, he is attacked.
Most of the monkeys that are beating him have no idea why they were not
permitted to climb the stairs or why they are participating in the beating
of the newest monkey.
After replacing all the original monkeys, none of the remaining monkeys have
ever been sprayed with cold water. Nevertheless, no monkey ever again
approaches the stairs to try for the banana. Why not? Because as far as they
know that's the way it's always been done around here.
And that, my friends, is how a company policy begins.
December 17, 2002
Introspect
I had the greatest therapy session yesterday. It was the first time that I cried in front of my therapist. I've been very happy with my life for the last several years, and I've been dealing with adversity in a very healthy way, but it's because I'm so full of pain from my past, that there hasn't been any room to add any more hurt to it. A couple of months ago I decided to finally chip away and the remaining debris, and make more room for more joy. I think I just made that sound much hokier than it is. So we've been looking at my childhood, and I'm allowing myself to feel sorry for the little girl inside. The little girl who was told that if she cleaned her room she could go play, only to be told after she had done more than asked, that her mother had changed her mind. Just because. The little girl who couldn't participate in any after school programs because she had to get home and mind her younger siblings. The little girl who told countless guidance counselors about the physical abuse her mother inflicted, only to be told that children deserve to be punished when they've been bad. My mother dished many years of physical and mental abuse that I need to address rather than suppress because it has shaped how I handle intimate relationships. I don't want to be that woman who gets comfortable enough with her significant other, only to have a breakdown because she thinks he can fix it. These are certainly MY issues, and and I don't want to bring any excess baggage into the union. I'm getting a little ahead of myself considering I haven't had more than a second date in six months, but it's best to be prepared.
I had the greatest therapy session yesterday. It was the first time that I cried in front of my therapist. I've been very happy with my life for the last several years, and I've been dealing with adversity in a very healthy way, but it's because I'm so full of pain from my past, that there hasn't been any room to add any more hurt to it. A couple of months ago I decided to finally chip away and the remaining debris, and make more room for more joy. I think I just made that sound much hokier than it is. So we've been looking at my childhood, and I'm allowing myself to feel sorry for the little girl inside. The little girl who was told that if she cleaned her room she could go play, only to be told after she had done more than asked, that her mother had changed her mind. Just because. The little girl who couldn't participate in any after school programs because she had to get home and mind her younger siblings. The little girl who told countless guidance counselors about the physical abuse her mother inflicted, only to be told that children deserve to be punished when they've been bad. My mother dished many years of physical and mental abuse that I need to address rather than suppress because it has shaped how I handle intimate relationships. I don't want to be that woman who gets comfortable enough with her significant other, only to have a breakdown because she thinks he can fix it. These are certainly MY issues, and and I don't want to bring any excess baggage into the union. I'm getting a little ahead of myself considering I haven't had more than a second date in six months, but it's best to be prepared.
December 16, 2002
A Star is Born
I got the voice over job! It's not a paying gig, but it's experience, and my name will appear in the credits. Rehearsals start in January, and recording in February. That's about all I know right now, but there's supposed to be an informative email en route. I felt really good about my call back on Saturday. I read with a wonderfully animated girl, and I was just happy knowing that I did my best and enjoyed myself. They're looking for something specific and if I wasn't it, oh well. But I was it, and I WON!
p.s. So my part is of the female villager #2, I have four whole lines, and my character is ogling a prince through a window while he gets his suit tailored. I know this is a stretch for me, but I'll do some research and do my best!
I got the voice over job! It's not a paying gig, but it's experience, and my name will appear in the credits. Rehearsals start in January, and recording in February. That's about all I know right now, but there's supposed to be an informative email en route. I felt really good about my call back on Saturday. I read with a wonderfully animated girl, and I was just happy knowing that I did my best and enjoyed myself. They're looking for something specific and if I wasn't it, oh well. But I was it, and I WON!
p.s. So my part is of the female villager #2, I have four whole lines, and my character is ogling a prince through a window while he gets his suit tailored. I know this is a stretch for me, but I'll do some research and do my best!
Merry Mischief
It's hilarious what you find on your camera after it's been passed around a party where everyone is out of their heads. A close friend threw an invite only, formal holiday shin-dig at his place Saturday night. Between the Ambassador and the Vaporizer, there weren't many coherent speakers in the bunch, except for my sober ass. I tried making nice with the Ambassador, but it burned all the way down so I opted for H2O. I've still never gotten a clear answer on what makes up the Ambassador, but I'm certain that it's several types of liquor and the only thing it 'represents' is impaired motor skills and a massive hangover. The apartment was decorated most cozy and festive, and the nibbles were above and beyond. I should have remembered to stuff my purse with the little crab filled pastries. The cops were nice enough to stop by twice, I was witness to a guy getting his ass beat in a wrestling match by a girl, and I was introduced to pre-moistened flushable butt wipes. And to all a good night!
Pictures can be seen on The Queen's Photos page
It's hilarious what you find on your camera after it's been passed around a party where everyone is out of their heads. A close friend threw an invite only, formal holiday shin-dig at his place Saturday night. Between the Ambassador and the Vaporizer, there weren't many coherent speakers in the bunch, except for my sober ass. I tried making nice with the Ambassador, but it burned all the way down so I opted for H2O. I've still never gotten a clear answer on what makes up the Ambassador, but I'm certain that it's several types of liquor and the only thing it 'represents' is impaired motor skills and a massive hangover. The apartment was decorated most cozy and festive, and the nibbles were above and beyond. I should have remembered to stuff my purse with the little crab filled pastries. The cops were nice enough to stop by twice, I was witness to a guy getting his ass beat in a wrestling match by a girl, and I was introduced to pre-moistened flushable butt wipes. And to all a good night!
Pictures can be seen on The Queen's Photos page
December 14, 2002
Prick
I called up Wells Fargo to call in payroll for the office, and the woman answers in a slightly southern 'that sweet lady next door voice', "Thank you for calling Wells Fargo this is Janie how can I...OUCH"! "Aww jeeze". "Oh my stars", "What happened"? I ask. "Oh, I just stuck myself in the leg with a needle". What, is this woman giving herself insulin while she takes payroll calls? I asked her if she was alright and she replied that she was fine. She was wrapping Christmas gifts when she leaned on a needle. Thank goodness I'm not on her list, I did NOT ask Santa for a syringe, specifically noted on the bottom of my list "An extra cookie in it for you if you DON'T bring me a syringe". I had to ask "What kind of needle"? "A knitting needle, I'm making quilts" she replies. Whew. What a relief to hear that Janie IS that sweet lady next door and not some smack scoring gutter junkie taking payroll calls to support her habit. All is right with the world.
How I imagine Janie to be
What I discovered Janie ISN'T
Your Majesty is fully aware that she sucks when typing punctuation within quotes. It's the content that counts so BACK OFF!
I called up Wells Fargo to call in payroll for the office, and the woman answers in a slightly southern 'that sweet lady next door voice', "Thank you for calling Wells Fargo this is Janie how can I...OUCH"! "Aww jeeze". "Oh my stars", "What happened"? I ask. "Oh, I just stuck myself in the leg with a needle". What, is this woman giving herself insulin while she takes payroll calls? I asked her if she was alright and she replied that she was fine. She was wrapping Christmas gifts when she leaned on a needle. Thank goodness I'm not on her list, I did NOT ask Santa for a syringe, specifically noted on the bottom of my list "An extra cookie in it for you if you DON'T bring me a syringe". I had to ask "What kind of needle"? "A knitting needle, I'm making quilts" she replies. Whew. What a relief to hear that Janie IS that sweet lady next door and not some smack scoring gutter junkie taking payroll calls to support her habit. All is right with the world.
How I imagine Janie to be
What I discovered Janie ISN'T
Your Majesty is fully aware that she sucks when typing punctuation within quotes. It's the content that counts so BACK OFF!
December 13, 2002
Halloween Photos Two Months Later!
The Cast
Alice and Brad
Alice and SuperPenis
Alice and Queen
Alice and Power Puffs
Alice and Tweedles
Alice and SFPD
Becky Alice and Jeanie
Becky and Barbie
Becky and SFPD
Becky and Shortcake
Damn Headgear
Hatter and Alice
Lionel and Becky
Martha and Martha
Slim and Alice
Toilet Seat
The Cast
Alice and Brad
Alice and SuperPenis
Alice and Queen
Alice and Power Puffs
Alice and Tweedles
Alice and SFPD
Becky Alice and Jeanie
Becky and Barbie
Becky and SFPD
Becky and Shortcake
Damn Headgear
Hatter and Alice
Lionel and Becky
Martha and Martha
Slim and Alice
Toilet Seat
December 11, 2002
Really Bottom Drawer
So Friday after we left the roaring 20's party, we headed over to the Pilsner on Church and Market. On the way there I got a call from this guy that I met out about a week ago. I thought he was pretty cute, but after I gave him my phone number, he called it right there on the spot. Sounds to me like some one has trust issues. Not to mention he's a smoker and one of my friends noticed he had hairy hands. The next time he called was 1:52 in the morning on Thanksgiving. He didn't leave a message and I decided then that I wasn't interested. So he calls Friday night and my friend and I decided we should invite him out. Give me a break, we had been drinking unlimited champagne for three hours. He shows up, sits next to me and I ask him if he's cool with the gay bar. He says he's totally cool with it. Hmmm. I asked him to tell me his story. He keeps it short and not too sweet by saying "I'm Matt and I'm here". "That's my story". I tried again, "What do you like to do for fun"? His answer, "Drugs". My mind is spinning, is this guy trying to turn me off. I indulge him. "What kind of drugs"? "Pretty much everything but crack". I'm disgusted. "Recreational or habitual"? Without even turning his head towards me he answers "Somewhere in between". I asked him if I was boring him and he said that he was having a great conversation with the guys around him. I blurted out that I though he may be bi and he giggled "That's yet to be determined". Now I don't mind if he's a gay guy looking for a friend, but I thought I was very clear when I approached him the week before when I said "Hey you're cute would you like to go out sometime"?, that he understood I was interested. As a straight woman. Him as a straight man. But he wasn't even nice, and before long he just disappeared. He actually called the next day and told me not to be a stranger. Right! Because I want to be the bridge person to someone who I thought was quasi-cute while they figure out their sexuality. I take a month off from the dating world, and I feel like a kid trying to jump on a merry-go-round that's spinning 100 miles an hour. Good luck with that Matt!
So Friday after we left the roaring 20's party, we headed over to the Pilsner on Church and Market. On the way there I got a call from this guy that I met out about a week ago. I thought he was pretty cute, but after I gave him my phone number, he called it right there on the spot. Sounds to me like some one has trust issues. Not to mention he's a smoker and one of my friends noticed he had hairy hands. The next time he called was 1:52 in the morning on Thanksgiving. He didn't leave a message and I decided then that I wasn't interested. So he calls Friday night and my friend and I decided we should invite him out. Give me a break, we had been drinking unlimited champagne for three hours. He shows up, sits next to me and I ask him if he's cool with the gay bar. He says he's totally cool with it. Hmmm. I asked him to tell me his story. He keeps it short and not too sweet by saying "I'm Matt and I'm here". "That's my story". I tried again, "What do you like to do for fun"? His answer, "Drugs". My mind is spinning, is this guy trying to turn me off. I indulge him. "What kind of drugs"? "Pretty much everything but crack". I'm disgusted. "Recreational or habitual"? Without even turning his head towards me he answers "Somewhere in between". I asked him if I was boring him and he said that he was having a great conversation with the guys around him. I blurted out that I though he may be bi and he giggled "That's yet to be determined". Now I don't mind if he's a gay guy looking for a friend, but I thought I was very clear when I approached him the week before when I said "Hey you're cute would you like to go out sometime"?, that he understood I was interested. As a straight woman. Him as a straight man. But he wasn't even nice, and before long he just disappeared. He actually called the next day and told me not to be a stranger. Right! Because I want to be the bridge person to someone who I thought was quasi-cute while they figure out their sexuality. I take a month off from the dating world, and I feel like a kid trying to jump on a merry-go-round that's spinning 100 miles an hour. Good luck with that Matt!
December 09, 2002
December 07, 2002
Really Top Drawer
It began with a lunch time trip to Vintage by the Pound on Valencia at 16th. My fun co-worker friend and I wanted to see if we could find something new for an interior design industry party with a 1920's theme. We already had things we could wear, but it's always fun to freshen up the costume wardrobe. I found the perfect style dress in the worst possible color. It was layers of satin and lace in this pinkish, lavenderish, not found on the color wheel, ick. But I saw potential. I paid $6.96 for my new project, and we headed to Walgreen's for some black Rit dye. Once back at the office, I soaked the dress in the dye in our mop bucket, stirring occasionally. After a good one hour soak, I found that it hadn't turned black, but a beautiful plum with black lace. I gave it a good washing at the laundry across the street, and began thinking of accessories.
My fun co-worker friend fashioned himself my date, arriving with a squeaky clean side part and a fetching suit. We established our characters as "Clark" and "Sally", and headed out to the speakeasy. We arrived at the giant door, whispered the password, and were welcomed to a glass of champagne and a photographer who couldn't get enough of us. The ambiance was Grand to say the least. The building houses fine antiques to begin with, so add to it a shit load of money and holiday decor, and it made for a dream setting. The foyer held a fifteen foot Christmas tree with silver glitter feathers, white orchids, and silver and blue ornaments. The main room was kept warm and bright from an oversized fireplace. Flapper dancers did the Charleston on stilts so they could be seen from any angle, and a live band set the leisurely tone. The next room was the "casino" and we were welcome to gamble with play money that had the host's picture on it. I played a little roulette, while others tried their hand at blackjack and craps. The garden out side was where the fresh oysters and shrimp were kept, if you could make you way to the table. We nibbled on hors d'eovers of duck, beef, and lamb, and the bootlegger made sure my glass was always full.
My illusion was briefly suspended while waiting for the powder room. The woman in line behind me saw "Clark" wink at me from across the room, and asked if he was my man. It was obvious she had been frequented by the bubbly fairy as she was teetering while trying to stand still, and leaned in all too close as she spoke. I answered that we were friends. She asked if I wanted him to be my man. I explained that he already has a man. She asked if I was in love with him. I replied that I loved him as a friend, but had no romantic interest. She went on to ask if we were sleeping together. I insisted again that he was in a relationship with a man, to which she snapped "So what", "I'm married and I'm a lesbian". I couldn't pass up this sociological experience and the writing material. I asked her if she felt emotionally or physically for women and, as she caressed my forearm, she said that although it's typically physical, but there's one woman in her life that she may be falling for on a deeper level. Soon enough the powder room was available and I ended our improv therapy session with, "Well good luck with that"!
On our way out the singer of the band offered me three hundred dollars for my dress. If someone wants it that bad, they can't have it! As "Clark" put it, "You can't buy style"!
"Clark", "Sally" and "Constance"
It began with a lunch time trip to Vintage by the Pound on Valencia at 16th. My fun co-worker friend and I wanted to see if we could find something new for an interior design industry party with a 1920's theme. We already had things we could wear, but it's always fun to freshen up the costume wardrobe. I found the perfect style dress in the worst possible color. It was layers of satin and lace in this pinkish, lavenderish, not found on the color wheel, ick. But I saw potential. I paid $6.96 for my new project, and we headed to Walgreen's for some black Rit dye. Once back at the office, I soaked the dress in the dye in our mop bucket, stirring occasionally. After a good one hour soak, I found that it hadn't turned black, but a beautiful plum with black lace. I gave it a good washing at the laundry across the street, and began thinking of accessories.
My fun co-worker friend fashioned himself my date, arriving with a squeaky clean side part and a fetching suit. We established our characters as "Clark" and "Sally", and headed out to the speakeasy. We arrived at the giant door, whispered the password, and were welcomed to a glass of champagne and a photographer who couldn't get enough of us. The ambiance was Grand to say the least. The building houses fine antiques to begin with, so add to it a shit load of money and holiday decor, and it made for a dream setting. The foyer held a fifteen foot Christmas tree with silver glitter feathers, white orchids, and silver and blue ornaments. The main room was kept warm and bright from an oversized fireplace. Flapper dancers did the Charleston on stilts so they could be seen from any angle, and a live band set the leisurely tone. The next room was the "casino" and we were welcome to gamble with play money that had the host's picture on it. I played a little roulette, while others tried their hand at blackjack and craps. The garden out side was where the fresh oysters and shrimp were kept, if you could make you way to the table. We nibbled on hors d'eovers of duck, beef, and lamb, and the bootlegger made sure my glass was always full.
My illusion was briefly suspended while waiting for the powder room. The woman in line behind me saw "Clark" wink at me from across the room, and asked if he was my man. It was obvious she had been frequented by the bubbly fairy as she was teetering while trying to stand still, and leaned in all too close as she spoke. I answered that we were friends. She asked if I wanted him to be my man. I explained that he already has a man. She asked if I was in love with him. I replied that I loved him as a friend, but had no romantic interest. She went on to ask if we were sleeping together. I insisted again that he was in a relationship with a man, to which she snapped "So what", "I'm married and I'm a lesbian". I couldn't pass up this sociological experience and the writing material. I asked her if she felt emotionally or physically for women and, as she caressed my forearm, she said that although it's typically physical, but there's one woman in her life that she may be falling for on a deeper level. Soon enough the powder room was available and I ended our improv therapy session with, "Well good luck with that"!
On our way out the singer of the band offered me three hundred dollars for my dress. If someone wants it that bad, they can't have it! As "Clark" put it, "You can't buy style"!
"Clark", "Sally" and "Constance"
December 06, 2002
"I Do My Little Turn On the Catwalk"
-Right Said Fred
Can I just tell you what a hit Junk in the Trunk was last night?! There were ten designers, all with outstanding creations. The space was 52 Mason which is a crude basement, but crude in an artsy way. I got there close to five, and the actual fashion show wasn't until eight, so with time to kill I worked on my make-up and hair, nibbled on shrimp fried rice from Tu Lan, the best Vietnamese in the city, and flirted with the cutest boy I've seen in ages who was there with his freaking GIRLFRIEND! My fifth day with permission to date freely and I have to go and make goo-goo eyes with someone who's taken. Ah well, we can always make new friends right? Very handsome friends.
So fifteen minutes before the show was to start, I headed into the fitting room with the amazing get-ups that my good friend stitchbitch created. The other designers had several models to show various pieces, but since I was SB's only stuff strutter, I would be showing three outfits. The show's coordinator had me in the line-up as first, tenth, and last. What that means is that after I show the first ensemble, I have to race back to the fitting room, strip and change into the next outfit, and get back to the line of models, and act as if it were magic. I begged the other models to take their time on the platform explaining the importance of the flow, but get twenty first-time-ever-on-a-runway, "I'm only here helping a friend" types together, and you've got your Majesty barely out of her first outfit and they're calling her for the next. Fueled by a couple of Tecates and breath mints, I set the show in motion and scrambled through the crowd back to the fitting room for a Wonderwoman fast wardrobe change. Thank the Goddess for my wonderful copywriter friend who stood in as my dresser. She stripped me of my top, while I wiggled into my undies, and she dealt with my crazy bird hair accessories while I buckled my shoes. When it cam time to change into the last little number, I couldn't find one of the shoes I was supposed to wear, and the crazy bird accessory we removed left quite a nest behind. I opted to ditch the shoes, (how happy was I that I just got a long overdue pedicure on Wednesday) and put on a small, chic top hat. I had a ton of friends in the audience so it was easy playing with the crowd. All in all it was a success and now more people know how amazing stitchbitch is!
-Right Said Fred
Can I just tell you what a hit Junk in the Trunk was last night?! There were ten designers, all with outstanding creations. The space was 52 Mason which is a crude basement, but crude in an artsy way. I got there close to five, and the actual fashion show wasn't until eight, so with time to kill I worked on my make-up and hair, nibbled on shrimp fried rice from Tu Lan, the best Vietnamese in the city, and flirted with the cutest boy I've seen in ages who was there with his freaking GIRLFRIEND! My fifth day with permission to date freely and I have to go and make goo-goo eyes with someone who's taken. Ah well, we can always make new friends right? Very handsome friends.
So fifteen minutes before the show was to start, I headed into the fitting room with the amazing get-ups that my good friend stitchbitch created. The other designers had several models to show various pieces, but since I was SB's only stuff strutter, I would be showing three outfits. The show's coordinator had me in the line-up as first, tenth, and last. What that means is that after I show the first ensemble, I have to race back to the fitting room, strip and change into the next outfit, and get back to the line of models, and act as if it were magic. I begged the other models to take their time on the platform explaining the importance of the flow, but get twenty first-time-ever-on-a-runway, "I'm only here helping a friend" types together, and you've got your Majesty barely out of her first outfit and they're calling her for the next. Fueled by a couple of Tecates and breath mints, I set the show in motion and scrambled through the crowd back to the fitting room for a Wonderwoman fast wardrobe change. Thank the Goddess for my wonderful copywriter friend who stood in as my dresser. She stripped me of my top, while I wiggled into my undies, and she dealt with my crazy bird hair accessories while I buckled my shoes. When it cam time to change into the last little number, I couldn't find one of the shoes I was supposed to wear, and the crazy bird accessory we removed left quite a nest behind. I opted to ditch the shoes, (how happy was I that I just got a long overdue pedicure on Wednesday) and put on a small, chic top hat. I had a ton of friends in the audience so it was easy playing with the crowd. All in all it was a success and now more people know how amazing stitchbitch is!
December 02, 2002
I have a real live professional working on queenreese.com. Thanks a MILLION happygofun! So you should bookmark queenreese.com and use that as your point of entry for peeking in on your Majesty.
queenreese.com It's not an option;it's an order!
queenreese.com It's not an option;it's an order!
Adult Entertainment
I should just start a list of time wasting links. This one should keep you busy until lunch! Simply insert any URL at the top, and watch the pornolizer transform the verbage into a dirty talkin' good time. I liked using ilovealpacas.com. Email me with your favs.
I should just start a list of time wasting links. This one should keep you busy until lunch! Simply insert any URL at the top, and watch the pornolizer transform the verbage into a dirty talkin' good time. I liked using ilovealpacas.com. Email me with your favs.
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