Saturday, February 21, 2004

I try to tell her life would be easier if she were straight. She'd look better, she'd feel better. People would stop staring. I wouldn't have to spend all this time worrying about being seen with her. We could just go out, maybe flirt with some guys, feel good.

It's impossible to get it across to her. I show her pictures of how attractive straight can be. "See?" I say. "This is what's in now."

She just shrugs.

"I know what you're doing was popular for a while. Everyone was doing it. But that's over now, okay? Now it's cool to be straight. You can blend in."

"What if I don't want to blend in?" She says.

"That's all well in good for you," I say. "But what if I do? I didn't get to choose you, and I can't get rid of you now."


I take her for a walk one day, see if I can talk some sense into her. We walk by a group of young girls, thin and beautiful with long blond hair hanging down past their shoulders. It frames their faces perfectly and bounces slightly as they walk.

"Don't you want to be pretty, like them?" I say.

"Conformist slime." She rasps. "That's really how I want to look." There's just no reasoning with her.

We walk a while longer, past a tatoo shop, and out in front of it there's a young woman in her twenties, about, smoking. She's wearing bulky jeans that fringe at the end, a spiky belt, a stained T-shirt. On her arm there's a tatoo; I can only assume it's a woman's name. Her hair is cut super-short, like a boy's, except died a bright pink. She looks pissed off.

"See? If this keeps up, that's what's gonna happen." I tell her.

"I like the pink." She says.

"The color's not bad-- maybe for one day, sure. But what about fancy events, huh? Do you want to look like that for prom?"

"How can you even tell she's not straight herself?" She asks. "You can't tell." This is insane.

"I just said that's what would happen to you. You don't want walk around looking like a boy, do you?"

No answer.


"Maybe if you wouldn't hold me back all the time, you could see how beautiful I can be. I hate being held back." She says to me out of no where.

"Maybe if you'd just try being straight, I wouldn't have to tie you down the way I do. But you look like a clown! I should start wearing face paint and a big red nose because you look so out of place?"

"I just want to be who I am!" She shouts. "I'm not straight! I know you've tried, but you have to accept me for what I am. I'm not perfect, I'm just me!"


People tell me I could change her if I tried, but they don't know her. My hair has a mind of it's own.


---------


My little homage to my utter inability to straighten my hair. Last time I got it cut, the lady blow-dried it straight for me, and told me how. I was successful just once.

That was a good day. But no more.

On with it.

Friday, February 20, 2004



When I was young I was always fascinated with moving water, but the only thing available was the creek created by the raindrain on the border of my property and the neighbors. I played in this like it was a full-out water wonderworld. This raindrain creek weaves it's way throughout lisbon in the understated beauty of rust-red.

The 'Scroggin ain't bad, but this is where it's at. I took this picture near Nissa's house while I was on a walk one of the many early mornings during which I had given up on sleeping all together. I'm thinking that, for now at least, my policy has become that I will only attempt it every other night.

This sleep-deprived nostalgia is the sort of thing JohnnyLib would want to write a story about, if I'm not mistaken.

Anyways, there's your overly sentimental photo of the week/various period of time. On with it.

Thursday, February 19, 2004

Non Sequitur Thoughts...


"Introducing new SpongeBob Squarepants Cereal."
Those of who thought I was overreacting: I OWN YOU.


Okay, see the word "Non Sequitur" up there? That's the word you mean when you're saying "random"...constantly. Even when you *do* use the word "random" correctly, you do it too goddamned much. In complete silence: "Anyone here seen 'Will & Grace' lately? I think they're loosing their edge. That was random." Not every attempt at conversation is random. You assholes. You people are making a bad impression youth-- my 12-year-old cousin is on this freak-show insult to the english language. I haven't heard a word so overused since "Elian Gonzalez".


As featured on Casey's Site.
"FieryGwenivere: I think the next Geico commercial should take place in a pediatric burn unit."


And finally...

Cigar, anyone?


On with it.

Tuesday, February 17, 2004

Linda: You're a dirty wop. Well, no, actually, you aren't, but if you ever have children, they will be.
ZacK: Why?
Linda: Because I'm a dirty wop, and if you ever have children, they'll be with me.
Zack: What's a wop?
Linda: It's an Italian. It's like calling a black person a "nigger" or a jewish person a...uh...
Zack: A "Jew"?


This struck me as rather funny, and I post it for no other reason than it's relative humor and the fact that I haven't had anything to say since Saturday. Admit it: you were pining for me.

Since I've established a theme, though, now's a good time for me to talk about the funniest Valentine's-related news story this year-- that's right, even funnier than all that other Valentine's related news. It's that good. So, just for those of us who didn't already get the news from PA:

American Greetings is thoroughly chagrinned after their Chinese suppliers made a printing mistake with their SpongeBob Squarepants valentine's. Instead of coloring the (vastly overrated) cartoon character yellow, they "mistakenly" portrayed him in black, causing one Valentine included in the box set (sold exclusively at everybody's favorite monopoly-- other than the game, which is pretty cool-- Wal*Mart) to strongly resemble minstrel show propaganda from the late 1800's. But don't take my word for it, or that the press', or the hundreds of offended consumers': decide for yourself.



So as Spongebob wears the face that grins and lies, the smile on my face is 100% genuine. Don't take it as insensitivity on my part that I think this may be the biggest, best, most hilarious mishap since September 11th, but if I see one more piece of Spongebob Paraphenelia, I'm going to shove my officially licensed Spongebob butt-probe up some pourous yellow ass.

Spongebob Items for Sale: For the technically inclined, we've got the SpongeBob Squarepants Optical mouse.


For the working man on the go, we've got the Spongebob hands-free cell phone kit.

For the Spongebob fetishist, we've got this delightful contraption that teases you with the promise of getting a peak at Spongebob's SpongeBone, which is rumored to be a toilet brush.

They even have, get this, Spongebob sponges.

And, of course, this little boy. (Available in Girl.)

It's not that I don't think Spongebob is a decent cartoon: he's at par with all the other Nick Toons out there today, maybe better. But I can say without hesitation that he's the most overrated pop icon since the Beatles. Yeah, that's right. I said it. The Beatles. I'm sorry I can't let it be, but I hear people worshipping the Beatles eight days a week and frankly, it doesn't have a ticket to ride with me anymore. That was yesterday. Maybe sharing this opinion will endanger my future career as a paperback writer, but ob-la-de, ob-la-da, life goes on.

I think the really humorous thing is that I'm gonna catch more shit for insulting the Beatles than that 9-11 crack I made, which was obviously referring to September 11th, 1970, when the Ford Pinto was first released to the autumotive market.

Why? What did *you* think I meant?

While American Greetings has addressed the issue with Wal*Mart (who's official stance is "Eh."), they seem to be letting their suppliers off a bit easier than they perhaps deserve. "Culturally, the guys on press in China wouldn't have the faintest idea of who a SpongeBob was or who a black SpongeBob was," said one AG official. The Chinese, in their infinite, fortune-cookie wisdom have a saying for such unfortunate situations, pronounced "Nee-haw Solif-Ack, Soody wat-cha fing-nifick.", which, loosely translated, means "I can't believe we're getting away with this!" Does this remind anyone but me of that Episode of South Park where the Japanese people went around complementing the penises of American men, and therefore got away with anything they wanted?

"Ahhh, we are really sorry about mistake, Good sir. We were distracted from printing machine by thoughts of big american wang, such as yours."
"Uhm, yes, well. Don't let it happen again."

Just a thought.


Also, on an unrelated note, I have talked to Andy Milonakis-- on instant messager now, how's that for impressive-- and with a little finesse (and bribery) on my part, I got his word that he would send me the corrected Chonky lyrics soon. So look forward to that...or don't, since I'm really only throwing a bone to random google searchers who travel through here. But ain't it *cool* that I actually talked to him? For a really long time, too! Huh? Huh?

Oh, screw you people.

On with it.