Conversion Consmersion

Now, call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure that Jesus taught unconditional love. I don't really know because I never payed attention in church, I was too busy doodling on those flyer things they handed out before every session. I don't know where it says it, but apparently there was some fine print in the whole unconditional thing. Because everywhere that I see religious zealotry, even the more positive forms of it, there is a message of love these people because they can change. And if you love them enough, they will change to be just like you and finally they will be deserving of your love. This is god's way.

There's a lovely little article I found in townhall that describes the process of de-gayification by religiosity spearheaded by an ex-"gay" (their quotes) himself. And he's talking all about the process for ministries to heal gay and lesbian people with love and how they tend to get cranky when you give them the salvation message. But their not paying attention to what they are doing. Witholding love is never going to make anyone happy. Where is the last child you saw whose mother was always saying "sure honey, I love you. but you should be better, you should be pure. god hates one major aspect of your person so, cut it out or you're going to hell." On the top of a damn tower with a rifle. That's where you saw this person. Or, maybe spending a little too much time with the priest after altar boy practice.

Oh, that and the fact that these people are GAY. Leave them be. Let them find their own belief system. And for that matter let everyone else be too. If one more person shows up on my doorstep with a free bible at nine in the morning on a weekend while I'm hungover, heads are gonna roll! Or just sit in my freezer next to the girl scouts I'm collecting.

This man is probably in fact an ex-homosexual. He has a wife, children and a brand new dandy life as a minister trying to convert the others he used to fuck. Which is a pretty sizeable number if he's being accurate and not just elaborating like all men are wont to do. But, the real question is: who does he think about in order to facilitate these marital relations. Hmmm?

Oh, and what's with the "gay" quotes, but no quotes around lesbian. Come on people, aren't men and women equal yet? Aren't our sexual "deviations" regarded with the same amount of derision as the men's? C'mon people, get with the program.

SPAM...Nature's way of saying WTF?

So, this post is going to be about nothing. I have nothing important to say today, I just feel I must keep up with the other crazy bloggers that actually find shit to talk about that is more intelligent than my stuff (you know who you are). So I post this blog as an antithesis to all you intelligence. This blog will be a black hole to suck up anything worthy of being read and destroy it with the might a little black hole can muster. There, take that.

Proof that the devil spawn is a-comin'

Apparently to hide the fact that britney spears is getting fat, her rep has finally released a statement saying she's squishing one out sooner rather than later. It seems the devil wants his comeuppance sometime within the next nine months and her first born child will be taken away with her hot bod, fame and fortune. Why else would she marry the publicity nightmare that is her husband if he wasn't one of Satan's footsoldiers and her own personal soul guard. Apparently though, Beelzebub has relaxed his hiring requirements if he's the best they could come up with.

It's damn obvious that this is what has been going on, how else could someone get so famous on brains like these:

(Posted by brit on her fansite, found here)

Honeymoon Poem

11.10.2004

A honeymoon at last, to get away from it all
My assistant Fe gave me the call.

I remember it well, as she was smilin'
She said it was called Turtle Island.

I packed my bags light and quick,
Then grabbed my pink dress & favorite lipstick.

We hopped on a plane and took our flight
I slept really well, all through the night.

As we arrive, I turn and look out the door,
People are greeting us right at the shore.

A meal, a shower and some ice cream
Then I threw my man down, you know what I mean!

Magical nights filled with stars
Silence is golden, no running cars.

Private dinners, romantic fires
Little piece of heaven, whatever your heart desires.

Friendly "hellos" and never goodbyes
When you're having fun, oh, how time flies!

As we sit and prepare to make our part
I thank you, Turtle Island, with all my heart!

~ Britney

Perhaps satan didn't give her the full package. Or if he did...this would be an elaborate cry for help that we all missed. Either way, I think we should let her burn.

I don't think this one'll make it to theaters

And right up there with the worst idea ever is this one come straight from Britain today. I'd like to see what producer was so damn royalstruck he agreed to finance this inevitable piece of crap. I guess someone thinks it's a great idea to create a movie about Charles and Camilla's early romance. Yeah, this is a brilliant fucking idea. Let's make a movie about some unattractive boring people and skip out on the adultery and death, because that's what makes a movie great.

Yet another superhero fantasy gone wrong

I'm crossin' over to the dark side. I'm grabbing my lollipop light saber, donning my pink Darth Wanda helmet and strutting down to the local video shop to rent me the worst chick flick you've ever seen. And there's nothing you can do about it either. Granted, the helmet is to protect my identity and the saber is for poking people in the eyes lest they should recognise me.

Fact is, I've got a superheroine job to do, and I ain't got much time to do it. I'm gonna pull all the sappiest, whiniest chick flix available, charge them all to my card and wander the streets handing one out to each of the coolest chicks ever. They will belittle the movies to their hot boyfriends/girlfriends in public. Then, when no one is looking, they will hug the sacred videos to their chest, find an excuse to go home early, shut all the blinds and pop the damn thing in the DVD player.

Then the shame will set in. Rolling over coyote-ugly style in the morning, the emotional hangover clearing, we're left with that empty video case with the impossibly cheesy title staring back at us. We know what the neighbors would say, the ones who watch Fellini. We know what our friends would say. So we put on our celebrity-avoiding-paparazzi-disguise and drop it in the drop box outside after wiping our fingerprints off of it.

But we needn't feel ashamed. A new era is upon us. We simply need to redefine the chick flick's role in society and we'll be off, scott-free, to rent whatever we damn well please.

Okay, let's get this over with. We like them because they are bad, not beacuse they are realistic. It's the exact same thing that drives people to watch old horror films and bad action movies. It has always been acceptable to watch those movies as long as the camp rules are strictly obeserved and a thick layer of irony coats one's love for these movies. But chick flicks have always been verboten in the camp arena. So, I would like to pass a motion to admit them. They most likely have bad acting, poor plot lines and minimal to no impact on society. Really, they're a shoo-in.

I think my ass just got karma'd

I know this may be hard to believe, but sometimes Missoula Jaye can make an ass out herself. She sometimes fancies herself evil-er and more snarky that even she thinks possible. And thus on a character high, she tends to exaggerate the importance of a subject to herself and criticize ruthlessly, usually to the chagrin of whomever (whoever?) is unfortunate enough to be the audience to her tirade.
Last week, I took it upon myself to lambast the particular name of a pet that I had heard. I haughtily brought it up to my friend a few times during the day and kept going further with it despite my instinct that I was just digging my own grave where I would eventually have to lie down with my foot in my mouth for all eternity. Later that week, the same friend takes me to a party and introduces me to his best friend blessed with the offending nomer. Yeah, I felt like an ass. Didn't bring it up though, because I am a coward.

And I still felt bad until today. When I got my ass Karma'd. So yesterday, I wrote a little article about Bush sleepwalking through office. Yeah, I think it is funny. Certainly not pulitzer material, but maybe a precursor to an early onion article. Or something a particularly bright 7th grader might dream up.

So I sent it to my aforementioned friend with the unassuming tagline "tell me what you think of this article." And he wrote back the following:

well i think it had the possibility to maybe be funny. im thinking a few or couple "intellectual" stoners said "hey...the president is sooo stupid. It would be sooo funny to make up a fake email that everyone thinks is real and makes him look sooo stupid."
"But we cant make up quotes, we could be arrested."
"Are you scared Larry, stop being such a little puss Larry. No one will know we did it."
so that's what i think about it, there is really no excuse for his stupidness.

Yeah, I just got the equivalent of a karmic band-aid being swiftly and painfully ripped off. And you know what, it felt good.

It goes all the way to the top...

And, more news for you news buffs...

Stockholm, Sweden--Swedish scientists, acting on a hunch, confirmed grave suspicions yesterday when they performed routine medical checks on the President. He underwent several tests over a number of days under the scrutinous eyes of Sweden's medical elite. The tensions felt at the White House and all over the world in concern for his health were ultimately relieved by this alarming and surprising diagnosis.

Ben Fjordson, head of Neurological Sciences at the Swedish Medical Institute (SMI), said "it is unclear how this condition has remained undiagnosed for so long." He went on to comment that "this disease may have significant impact on the American public and the world considering the man who is afflicted." Fjordson, 49 and single, chose to have an underling deliver the rest of the diagnosis to a nervous public.

Richard Blahnk, an American finishing his residency at SMI, elaborated. "The President checked in citing diminished speech capacity and numbness of extremities. After completing a CAT scan, we were alarmed to note there was minimal brain function and no evidence of sentient activity. But after more testing and conversing with the president himself, we determined he was simply sleepwalking. As this is the longest known bout of the illness, it is more likely the president has lapsed into what we have dubbed 'the waking coma.'"

The president has the appearance of sentience while utlizing no active brain waves. While being potentially alarming to the American public, it does solve some lingering questions on the President's phrasing in speeches. The White house has now officially retracted such statements as "Too many good docs are getting out of the business. Too many OB/GYN's aren't able to practice their love with women all across the country."—Sept. 6, 2004, Poplar Bluff, Mo., and "I'm honored to shake the hand of a brave Iraqi citizen who had his hand cut off by Saddam Hussein."—Washington, D.C., May 25, 2004.

Vice President, Dick Cheney, was seen muttering to Condolezza Rice. "Should we wake him?" To which she replied "no, it could be dangerous."

Modern Pizza Delivery Urban Myths

a chinese food delivery man was stuck in an elevator for 80 hours in brooklyn. my only question is, did he get overtime? Because, if I got stuck for 80 hours in an elevator at triple pay for most of it, I could pay a months rent and take off for mexico and work on my tan. the greatest thing about this story was that the man spoke mandarin chinese and apparently couldn't surpass the language barrier to tell the security guards that he was stuck in the elevator. what kind of retards don't investigate an emergency call, in any language, that is originating from your defunct elevator lodged between floors for a few days? and another point goes to the service industry.

Fwd: Living Will

Yeah, yeah, I know it's a forward...but I like it, so here it is. Maybe I'll modifiy it later today. Or maybe I'll just sign it and send it to my lawyer.

Subject: LIVING WILL

I, _________________________ (fill in the blank), being of sound mind and body, do not wish to be kept alive indefinitely by artificial means.

Under no circumstances should my fate be put in the hands of peckerwood politicians who couldn't pass ninth-grade biology if their lives depended on it.

If a reasonable amount of time passes and I fail to sit up and ask for a cold beer, it should be presumed that I won't ever get better. When such a determination is reached, I hereby instruct my spouse, children and attending physicians to pull the plug, reel in the tubes and call it a day.

Under no circumstances shall the members of the Legislature enact a special law to keep me on life-support machinery. It is my wish that these boneheads mind their own damn business, and pay attention instead to the health, education and future of the millions of Americans who aren't in a permanent coma.

Under no circumstances shall any politicians butt into this case. I don't care how many fundamentalist votes they're trying to scrounge for their run for the presidency in 2008, it is my wish that they play politics with someone else's life and leave me alone to die in peace.

I couldn't care less if a hundred religious zealots send e-mails to
legislators in which they pretend to care about me. I don't know these people, and I certainly haven't authorized them to preach and crusade on my behalf. They should mind their own business, too.

If any of my family goes against my wishes and turns my case into a
political cause, I hereby promise to come back from the grave and make his or her existence a living hell.

_______________________________________
Signature
_______________________________________
Witness

I don't know why I made the damn blog pink.

Just try to think of it as watered down blood.

Spank the Illegals!

And back in the valley of eternal retards, vigilante justice is in for the spring season. Tombstone, Arizona, is overrun this week by clumsy impersonators of Yosemite Sam making it completely impossible for people who actually work for border patrol to patrol the goddamn border. Apparently being a trigger happy, red-necked control freak doesn't exactly inpspire ballerina-like grace as they keep setting off all the alarms the border patrol has to answer to, letting more illegal immigrants storm our fortresses. Apparently these interlopers, who have as much power as a high school janitor with a walkie talkie, have converged on the AZ border because people settled there are feeling overrun. Call me crazy, but doesn't living on the border of Mexico guarantee a certain populus of the illegal persuasion. Jesus people, suck it up and be men, and if you don't like it, move to mexico. There ain't a real big problem with illegal immigrants on the side of the border.

On the other hand, I just might have to send one of these idiots after Lynn, who, after my several month hiatus, has convinced me to read the news, and, god forbid, comment. I feel sick.

I lost everyone...where did they go?

so, I'm panicking in traffic this morning, cursing and honking like a good californian at the cops that have decided to block off half my main thoroughfare with a damn stalled truck. the lights all turn red, I turn up my music and start making up excuses about traffic because I left my house ten minutes late cuz I stayed up too damn late last night. and the excuses are starting to be accurate, which is nice, because it's easy to lie when it's the truth. and I show up 10 minutes late, which would actually be 50 minutes early if those bastards hadn't stole my hour! anyways, I got excuses plowing through my head and reach the office door. and it's locked. I am the first one in. and every time this happens I think all my coworkers have disappeared stephen-king-style. so I praise whatever patron saint takes care of contracting secretaries with inabilities to drag their sorry asses out of bed, and enter carefully, checking for zombies.

Nice to see you again

my lovely california is back today. oh, how I've missed you. 80 degrees outside, not a cloud in the sky and me antsy as all hell to get outside. and i'm going to stop paying attention to all the news headlines on the internet because everywhere I look, it's schiavo. fortunately, i avoided the schiavo thing until last week, but i finally got the skinny and all i could think of was how embarrassing and completely invasive the public interference with this case was. and these people have been in the limelight for something extremely negative for the better part of a decade. their lives will never recover from it. and can you think of anything more inhumane than starving someone to death by pulling a feeding tube out of their mouth? why didn't they just go down to the corner, get a nice big bag of heroin and send her on her way with a fantastic trip. or hell, they got enough opiates to do her in nice just laying around the hospital. I mean, christ, have you been to those places, pills stacked everywhere, just shove some in an IV bag, shake it a little and it's a nice little party to send her on her way. I don't see what is wrong with assisted suicide. We have way too many people who want to live without keeping constant tabs on those who are in pain and simply want god to give them the check so they can settle their tab and do some shuffling off the mortal coil.