NOW YOU'LL SEE WHAT A SITH IS CAPABLE OF

Ready for this fucking shit?
No, you're not ready. Who could be prepared for this lesson in boredom?

What is your answering machine away message? If you don't have one, you can make it up!

Even the writer's block is uninspired today. Is everyone fucking downed out today or something?
What have I told you, Livejournal? This is a team effort ever since you got rid of the sections. I need you to ask leading questions so I can find the goods easier.

"Hi, you've reached [me] and [my boyfriend]. Please leave a message." I really wish it didn't launch into the Verizon automated voice saying a long additional message, because otherwise I would *totally* end it with, "Please leave a message after the beep," followed by a pause lasting a few seconds and then me cheerfully yelling, "beeeep!" :-D

If I heard an answering machine message like that I would do the following things in the following order:
1. Hang up
2. Cancel my phone
3. Call the police
4. Move to China
5. Learn Kung Fu
Why do you have to bore through my head with your obnoxiousness just because I had the audacity to call you? I'll admit if I'm calling you I've clearly made a hideous, irreparable mistake in my life but cut me some fucking slack. Clearly life has punished me enough.

Drastic changes are happening in my life. For the most part, they are wonderful positive changes.

Totally failed trying to get in shape in July, so I guess I should try again this month. Bellydancing was enjoyable, but b/c I didn't practice at home, nothing was really accomplished.

Belly dancing was a thing invented so brown girls could look even hotter but has been kind of absorbed (literally, in the fat rolls) of fat pigs everywhere.

Several concerts are on the horizon and I need to buy tickets for them.

I think today, after I make a phone call, I will clean my house the best I can. Ooh, I might even go out and get some more cleaning supplies.

I gotta plan shit out and work with it.

Praise be to Freyja and all her magnificent glory.

>Praying to Freya
>claimer of those slain in battle
I cannot think of a less likely thing you could be praying to.
It's like praying to Nyx or Chaos from Greek mythology. It's just not something an informed person in these mythological cycles would do.
Which leads me to believe you're saying it for the edgy, hipster factor. You're sooo cooooool.

If you could have a power that helps you with day-to-day living, like the ability to always get a seat on the bus, what would choose, and why?

The power to always get my way.

One that comes to mind is the power to get people to move the fuck out of the way when I need to get by.

Covered in my power.
My power, in fact, would make you all powerful.

On spaceflights, astronauts are awakened by songs of their choosing. What song would you pick?

They do?
Wait a minute, so does everyone. That's an option on your iPod.
My problem with the iPod alarm is it's so quiet. It wants to get you up but doesn't want to be rude about it.
JESUS CHRIST, iPOD. I'M BASICALLY DEAD WHEN I SLEEP I NEED YOU TO HELP ME OUT.
Oh, also, to answer the question: Hells Bells.

"In The Shadow of Our Pale Companion" by Agalloch. The song is gorgeous and awesome and holy crap if I keep going on about it I'll have to use a thesaurus, but also it's almost 15 minutes long, and sometimes I need that much time to wake up.

Sounds fucking terrible.
If the word "gorgeous" is used to describe a song it's shit.

By the way, I saw them a month ago and they were absolutely breathtaking.

Not as legit as Hells Bells, though.
I get headaches easily so I can't listen to music too loud and Hells Bells is about the only song where it's worth the risk.
Here's a linguistic quiz I can give myself for no gain. Let me give you the right answers.

-

What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?


Being a fucking douchebag begging for the release of death.

-What is the bug that when you touch it, curls into a ball?

Armor bug or a rolly polly.

-
What is the bubbly carbonated drink called?


Soda.

-What do you call gym shoes?

Cunt shoes.

-
What do you say to address a group of people?


Hey assholes.

-What do you call the kind of spider that has an oval-shaped body and extremely long legs?

Daddy FUCKIN' Long Legs.

-What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining?


The best answer is the British answer in this case: pissing down rain.
There you go. I've enhanced your language skills.
You're welcome.

today I...

ate breakfast (an english muffin and orange juice)
took my pills
watched a Simpsons episode i haven't seen in a while
got provisionally accepted into the linguistics program (which means a mailbox will be in order and i'm getting closer to graduation)

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW.
Am I really reading about the breakfast you had?
Seriously?

The World Series begins today, meaning balls will be hit, bases run, and homeruns scored. Remember the first time you got to first base? What was it like?

Get it it's like a sexual thing.
I guess.
Whoever decided getting rid of the Livejournal sections was a good idea should be beaten.

i was never a good runner, and certainly not a good sprinter. the first time i played softball outdoors was in 1995, in 5th grade. i don't remember it or care about it. 9 times out of 10 i got within 5 feet of the base when the first baseman got me out.

Pretty sure it wasn't literal.
Whatever.
Anyway I'm going now. I have heretics/monsters/traitors/cultists/recidivists/something to kill in some video game somewhere I'm sure.

Furries & Cthulhu

Furries and H.P. Lovecraft.
This is a thing.

Who or what is your opposite?

Today's writer's block.
A lot of people expressed confusion at this question because they're stupid.
My complete opposite is Livejournal.

Someone who goes '!!! ngathF uhluhtC aI aI' I'd guess.

Get it because Cthulhu cultists say Cthulhu Fhtagn in H.P. Lovecraft stories, and that's Cthulhu Fhtagn written backwards.
Oh that's not funny.
Whatever.

Quick post...I got a new car. Got a brand new 2012 Kia Rio LX. Black, manual, and it goes zoom. *happy dance* Pictures come later.

I skimmed a couple of posts where he says shit like "I'm a happy fox" and the gay little "happy dance" bullshit was really the topper. I feel my fury building.
Soon I'll be able to unleash my fury bar and time slows down and killing heals me.

Monday. *sigh* And I'm already wishing for a relaxing weekend. Hell, I need a day off to recover from the weekend. Note to homeowners, while the peel and stick vinyl floor tiles are an order of magnatude easier to deal with, the sticky gloop SUCKS.

"Sticky gloop", or "glue" as people with the same amount of life experience as a two year old can tell you.

Especially on finger tips (learned something new I really can't stand).

I don't get his aside there but whatever.
Also a protip any seven year old can tell you: if you rub your fingers together in a circular motion all the glue comes off.

Meh mood, kinda wishing I could disappear into a Lovecraftian story. Yeah, I know that's kind of demented of me. I blame all the time playing Call of Cthulhu for this, a 1920's version of me with linguistic skills. Yeah, we used to take bets on how quickly my character with Latin, Greek and Arabic skills would go insane from reading forbidden lore that we found during adventures.

That is positively zany!
Why the hell did I pick this blog, anyway? What is there to say to this?
Good job on that roleplaying, kid.

Most of you will remember some of my recent (6 months or so) firewall installs that went, less than perfectly.

Oh yeah I remember that.
Crazy times, bro.
CISCO FIREWALLS AM I RIGHT?

What is a synonym for your LiveJournal?

The synonym for all Livejournals is "shit".

Not having the greatest mood today. Miscommunications and frustrations lead to crappy sleep and weird dreams. Really, dreaming I was being tested on how to pick locks while my apartment disappeared around me, and my parents were standing there waiting to see how I did.

You feel like you're a failure in the eyes of your parents (and, really, how could you not? They raised a furry) aaaaaaand you're worried the quality of your life is about to decline, or you're afraid you'll never be able to escape your current life situation.
How am I at dream analysis?
I really just made it up from an aggregate of fears all people share currently.

Sunday was Amythest time. Laundry, cop shows, and general being around each otherness. Started serious plotting on something that I'll be talking about more later...once it's offical. *mischevious grin* Yes, another secret. You'll live.

Are you seriously implying your faggoty secrets have an affect on me?
If someone told me a week from now you died in an unrelated bus accident I'd be happy if your mediocrity didn't make you so forgettable.

Well, I seem to be feeling better. Still coughing up gunk,

Gunk
More like semen

Yay for feeling almost human. Going to go out and get lunch, then hang out with some friends tonight. Yay for a chance to see fellow hominids.

If someone said to me in real life "yay for a chance to see fellow hominids" I would stab him in the stomach with a rusty fork.

if I feel betterish tomorrow night I may go to an ufie shindig, or I may not.

A what?
An ufie shindig.
Is this English?
Wikipedia suggested I might have meant "Ekwe" or "Nze na Ozo" instead.
Of course, Nze na Ozo. How could I have been so stupid?
ARE THESE WORDS?
Google suggests I meant Uffie (naturally) who is apparently some sort of--
What is this music?
WHAT IS HAPPENING TO MY LIFE?
I'm just going to pretend like none of this happened and we'll never speak of it again.

Read an article about how companies should let employees pick their own job titles. I'm in favor of this, and would cheerfully stick 'Shoggoth Wrangler' on business cards.

"Bane of Kings and Sorrow of Mothers" is my new title.
Hi, how are you?
What kind of awful idea is that? For everyone who picks a normal title there'd be 3 jackasses like me walking around as Arch Inquisitor of Shaadom and shit.

Well, I slept last night...had mondo vivid dreams.

He bitches all the time about his weird dreams and then posts endlessly about the latest macabre horror story he's read/watched. Gee, I wonder if there might be a connection?
You know I consume a lot of weird fiction myself and I also have bizarre dreams. It sort of goes with the territory. You can either view them, as I do, as a reward for your devotion to the bizarre or you can be a complete pussy about it.
This post actually decays into such a grammatical nightmare that I think he cut entire sentences out and forgot to stitch what remained back together properly.
Not reading this--

Not in the best moods today, not really sure why. Had weird dreams, including one about Batman, and another where I was cleaning a automatic pistol.

Sounds pretty legit to me.
Oh I forgot to mention: he lives in Texas.
I knew I didn't like this asshole more than usual.

If you could solve one problem in the world, what would it be?

Texas.
It'd sink into the ocean.

The distinct lack of squid girls in the current media climate.

Whoa easy there, buddy.
I've heard of some fucked up fetishes in my day but this is a new one to me.

Nergal, aka my Windows box here at the Shoggoth Pit, is finally back up and running. Bad RAM = random blue screens = me mothballing the box til I cared enough about Windows to fix it.

Switching out RAM takes all of, what, 20 minutes if you bother to clock it and all that?

Still sick, stayed home. Feeling a little better, but not healthy. Meh. No, I haven't gone to the doctor. It's a cold, there isn't much the doc can do about it.

Other than SUCK IT UP, PUSSY.
So let me see if I understand this correctly: you hate weird dreams and you're sick constantly. Being sick is well known for giving you weird dreams so your solution to combating this admitted problem is to consume the weirdest media you can possibly find.
Not the solution I would have gone with if this is a serious problem in my life but then again I'm not a furry deviant on Livejournal.

Well, so far I've watched half of 'Red Sonya' (and turned it off, the cheese was too much), 'Conan the Barbarian (2011)' (Still fun on second viewing), and now on to 'Solomon Kane', aka the most ass kicking Puritan on the planet.

It sucks. Don't bother.
You know that character that doesn't have a backstory and is basically built around being hardcore and not giving a shit?
Let's give him a really angsty backstory complete with failing to rescue little kids whom he feels responsible for. That'll get asses in seats for sure!
What? It went straight to video?
WHY WOULD THAT BE?
Last I checked there was a complete rip of it up on Youtube because even MGM, the company so bankrupt it's selling its half finished movies to other companies to evade bankruptcy for another five minutes hasn't even bothered to file a DMCA on its own movie because it sucks that hard and they know it.
All I want to know is what madman bothered to cut that movie into five segments and upload them to Youtube. What would that imply? He watched the movie, decided "gee, I wonder if I can find this MASTERPIECE on Youtube?", checked, couldn't find it, rewatched it, cut it up, made an account, uploaded each segment (a multi-hour waiting period) then sat back and reveled in his own madness?

My plan for today is to watch all the Robert E. Howard based movies I own. For no other reason than to have an order, I'm doing them in the years they were released. So, starting with...
Conan the Barbarian (1982)
Conan the Destroyer (1984)
Red Sonja (1985)
Kull the Conqueror (1997)
Solomon Kane (2009)
Conan the Barbarian (2011)

Wow. The movie industry has not been kind to Robert E. Howard.

This should keep me busy til bedtime.

That'd keep me busy until I found something else to do which would take all of 10 minutes.
I liked the first Conan movie and even Conan the Destroyer (in a "this is so bad it's almost good" Mystery Science Theater kind of way) but if you said "let's watch these movies back to back" I'd probably tell you to get the fuck out of my house.

Who pays on a first date?

A writer's block at some point.

*tries to remember his last first date that involved exchange of funds*

Yeah you're such a stud you can't remember that many girls ago.
Loser.
Also knock this fucking emote bullshit off. This isn't a fucking play you're writing. "I'm trying to remember my last first date" is what you meant to write, dipshit.

Not a clue...though since I was raised quasi-old fashioned, I'd say me.

Yeah.
I'm sure.

I can't even write a good rant nowadays, I worry that I'll offend someone. *sigh* *goes off to hide under his desk* Well, maybe all the meh stuff happening this Monday means that tomorrow won't be as weird as it usually is. *vain hopes*

God you're a simpering wimp. I've never wished to pummel someone more than I do right now. My knuckles literally ache at the prospect of them meeting your jaw.
If someone told me they were offended at my blog I'd tell them to eat 53 dicks and promptly stop reading it.

Bad mood, I can still haz it. Just feeling tired, and blue, and generally wanting to avoid people.

Just read your own blog. I'd be so fucking pissed at myself if I were you.

Well, mood bottomed out. Was out with Amythest, and mood just kinda died. No reason, nothing happened...just went boom. Didn't help that the boss called, he wanted to know why something was why it was, and I really couldn't give him an answer. I hate that.

Just make up shit.
"It's that way because if it isn't the internet crashes."
People aren't good with technology. He'd buy it.
Also tell your boss to back the fuck off. What, are you letting him inadvertently cockblock you?
Anyway fuck this blog and fuck Livejournal too, while I'm thinking of it. I read the happiest news I've ever read on Yahoo last month: Livejournal posts are down 500%.

Prepare Your Butts

PREPARE YOUR BUTTS FOR THIS.
This thing I found.
It's so bad.
The title is "Mono no Aware" which translates to "thing of misery" which is right on the money. That is one accurate description of this.

What is your Chinese zodiac animal?

Today's writer's block.
Because you really care, I'm sure.

Born in 1982, I'm a water dog.

Don't care.

I have a confession.

It's something I've never told anyone. It's something I didn't think anyone would ever understand. I'm reading a book right now, and it's bringing the feeling back.

BOOKS MAKING YOU FEEL SOMETHING?
I don't understand.
How can you make those books speak their mysteries to you?

It's not something I would ever be able to act on, but I wanted to write about it to try to understand it better.

When I was young, I wanted to be a nun.

It wasn't ever a matter of faith, really. It certainly can't be now, as I don't even identify as Christian anymore. It wasn't a matter of celibacy, or swearing off men or relationships. Actually, even when I was Christian, I was pretty sure I wouldn't have been strong enough to take the vow.

Don't care.

Trying to stay on top of this whole blogging thing, if only for my own sanity. It feels good to sit down and write again, whether or not anyone else is watching. To those who do read and comment, thank you. Your time and care warm my heart and make me feel welcome again in an arena that once felt as much like home as my own bed pillow.

Wow that was douchey.
Anyway my hands are so cold right now I think I'm prepared to fire an ice blast.
Will this be my super power?

It is tradition in Greg's family to visit the matriarch for Christmas. I first met Grandma Joan this time last year. I was nervous, but I'd heard enough stories to guess that she had much in common with my own grandmother. Sure enough, Joan is a wonderful, classy, strong, opinionated, loving woman with her family's best interest (and the protection of her good china) always at heart. What a wonderful lady!

Stand back, I'm gonna focus.
Hey, my hand is warming up.
I'm going to shoot a FIRE blast instead.
Is this my super power?

Last year, we visited Joan at her house in Pelham Manor, NY. Her condo on Pelhamdale Avenue is in a beautiful old building with clinking, clanking pipes and such an efficient global heating system that she keeps one window in each room cracked all winter long... in NY! Even during the big blizzard that hit the day after Xmas last year! The sprinkling of antique furniture, picture frame wainscoating, and soft pastel color palette only remind me more of my grandmother and her taste in home decor. This year, however, the entire Cornell family visited a cousin named Ellen at her summer home on Long Beach, New Jersey. What a treat!

Rich people.
I'm sure that's the image she's trying to project but you just mentioned credit card debt so nice try.
If you are rich then you're teetering on the precipice of mediocrity.
Here's a post entitled, pretentiously enough, "On the notion of placing needle to skin, therein to depart some ink, some art..."
Or: "getting a tattoo" as normal people say.
Also I just saw a picture of this "summer home" and I'm pretty sure I've seen college dorms with nicer furniture. Antiques indeed.

Each of my tattoos means something very special to me. My last ink was a year ago, and I've never adored a piece of body art more. I have ideas for a few more yet to occur, so I thought I'd jot them down to share.

Oh please, do share.
I really care about what you're going to get branded on your skin for eternity.

I have a sugar skull planned for my right calf, mirroring my clan Lamont crest on my left calf. She will have Mexican marigolds for eyes, with gentle green leaves poking out from behind to suggest eyelashes. She'll have a black spiderweb spreading up and out in a triangle from the bridge of her nose across her forehead and further.

A what?
A sugar skull?
Either way, sounds real classy.

The calavera itself represents Texas, where I grew up; my fondness for the Spanish language and Mexican culture; my late grandmother, whom I miss dearly and honor daily; and my new home in New York.

And you get all that from that mess.
What represents Texas?
Outside of the skull for surely Texas begs for annihilation but outside of me and you who would really get that?

A single word, written in Scottish Gaelic and using the Ogham alphabet, may grace my left wrist in time. The word, and its meaning is special and private.

So why bring it up?
God this is stupid.

I've long entertained the notion of a phoenix and kirin to compliment my dragon tattoo, but those aren't certain.

I've killed Kirin in Monster Hunter and Final Fantasies (several).
I think I have a deeper connection to Kirin than you do, let's be honest. This shit isn't spiritual. It's just some bullshit you can trash yourself up with and appear deep.
I mean, really, if you were going to get something to complete the dragon tattoo you'd have to get a white tiger, a black tortoise, a blue dragon and a red phoenix. Then I guess Kirin in the middle.
But no, you only mention the phoenix and Kirin, which suggests you don't know much about Chinese mythology.
Not enough to get it branded on your flesh, anyway.

A friend of a friend has a glorious tattoo under her bust, caressing and expressing the womanly curves there.

A girl at my college had one of those tit tattoos. She got mad when I was staring at her tits.
Well excuse me, bitch. If you don't want people looking don't put pictures there.

A tattoo I'm recently in love with, but that I will likely not mimic in any way, belongs to a recent friend from the road. He has 23 small ravens in flight tattooed up his right arm, one for every year he's yet been alive. I just love the idea...so beautiful, so simple, and so artfully done.

High Marshall Helbrecht of the Black Templars has the Templars cross tattooed on his forehead.
That's when I'll condone tattooing, in fact. When you're a genetically enhanced super warrior and it's your forehead.

What tattoos do you have planned, that you haven't yet carried out?

Maltese Cross on my forehead.
Apparently this person lives with the Renaissance Festival.
Because you can do that I suppose.

Health insurance is possible, but not plausible. Rennies tend to take care of each other with strange combinations of pagan and western herbalism, massage, and chiropractic and/or acupuncture where available.

So they're going to die in their 40s just like people did back then.

It is definitely a feasible way of life; there are people out here who have lived only like this for 30 years. The thing is, though, you have to be willing to relinquish all notion of what you think you need to be happy and satisfied. The difference between brick-and-mortar lifestyle and rennie life is not just night and day. It's French and Swahili... mayhaps literally. I have 6 or 7 changes of clothing and I often wear mostly the same outfit all week, minus clean underwear and socks. I bathe twice a week, but my body has adjusted and so I don't smell or look dirty. My tent is full of dust and burrs. My breakfasts are sometimes potted meat on bread and my dinners are sometimes noodle cups.

Feasible in the same sense being homeless is feasible.
Because that's exactly what this sounds like.

My sky sparkles with ten thousand more stars though, and my friends are so close they feel like siblings. I get to see the sunset every evening, and I've shared more communal meals than ever before in my life.

I could see the sunset every evening too, if I went outside.
Is this really fair recompense for bathing twice a week?
I mean I went to the renaissance festival twice or so and it was basically a bunch of filthy hippies acting like twats. The only things worth going for were the blacksmiths and the glassblowers and, of course, the jousting.
You know, the people engaging in industry and manly activity?
God this is really boring.
I'm going to do something else now, goodbye.

Death is the final failure of the weak

Today we have some Muslim girl named Franky.
No I don't get it either.

Who do you think would make a great U.S. president?

In TOR there's this Sith Lord who looks strikingly similar to Obama.
Subtle commentary from Bioware?
Just kidding, Bioware is incapable of subtlety.
Either way I'd vote for Darth Obama over the current Obama.

Barack Obama is probably the best choice right now. If people would work with him rather than against him things would go more smoothly than they are now. Especially since he is making sure those that can afford to pay their taxes actually do.

No I like my answer better.

Ok so I really should get a Berserk Avatar but honestly, I fell in love with the series.

Like actually, I love it 5x more than Bleach. Maybe cuz there is palpable romance I don't even know. XD

>Liking Berserk for the romance
You might be able to tell from the title but "romance" isn't at the forefront of the plot of Berserk.

Honestly I never thought I would be saying that, that I love something more than Bleach because for the longest time Bleach and art supplies have been my major obsessions. So for me saying that I like Berser more than Bleach, especially right near New Years, it felt like the end of the world.

So that's what Japan has contributed to fiction. Bleach and Berserk.
If I had to pick two dissimilar fighting animus out I probably couldn't come up with two less alike than Bleach and Berserk.

Because GAduhdsfulhfiulhgewiuhafkfkbkjb. Ahhhh I try to bring my thoughts into a coherent thought process but I fail.
Maybe I should start with a list.

Maybe you should spare me the fucking details.

1. It's dark.
Yeah, the darkest manga I've actually seen. Darker than fucking Criminal Minds.

DARKER THAN CRIMINAL MINDS!?
How is that even possible?

There's demons, raping demons, torture, crazy psychopaths, lots of gore, corrupt leaders and craziest of all human greed.

You really sound 13 when you're describing Berserk. That's what makes a dark story, huh?
Rape, demons, gore and greed. Wonderful.
While we're at it, Lord of the Rings had all of those things and it's considered high fantasy. Maybe there's something more to the distinction than SO HARDCORE, DEMONS?

2. The main male's character's name is Guts and he has normal hair.
Like seriously what a simple yet badass name and his hair is black. Not red, blonde, pink or blue. Just black. And he has character fricken development and physical limits. Woot.

Guts: based on a real person.
Whose name was Gatz.

3. Caska.
One female chick who pwns everyone like Cagalli (from Gundam Seed). She is badass and empowered and a leader and black. I don't mean to be racial but she is black/brown/middleeastern and you NEVER see that without some deep fried chicken stereotype.

I like Berserk a lot but you liking it is seriously making me reconsider my choices in life.
Most people I know who like Berserk like it because of the aforementioned darkness but somehow avoid describing rape demons or the color of peoples' hair when explaining why its dark.
Most people point to the desperation of 90% of the plots or the incredible brutality of the entire series or the fact that people are beyond superhuman and yet barely edge out a victory in all of the fights in the entire series (hopelessness being a key component to dark fantasy).

4. Berserk is set in a midieval time period.

Medieval*
I know Bleach is set in modern day (technically) but everything looks Medieval and everyone dresses Medieval so I don't really see much of a distinction.
Maybe it's because Berserk looks European and Bleach is obviously Japanese?

The art.
OMG the art. So anatomical, the people actually look like people. This guy knows how to shade with ink.

True story: you can email the creator of Berserk (email on his website) and you'll get a response in broken English in a couple of weeks.
I've done it.
His inspirations include the Guin Saga (no idea what that is) and the artwork of Go Nagai.
Go Nagai is famous for his clean style and humor injected into serious situations.
So the polar opposite of Berserk.
I don't understand.

So.... life.
I'm in a love-hate relationship as per usual.
Hating because I have Fibromyalgia along with all my other shit and I was just recently bed ridden for two days out of sheer pain and numbness.

Can we keep talking about Berserk instead? I like it a lot more when you're not whining.

So I have my Muslim family over and I have issues communicating with them, it's not surprising considering I don't know Arabic particularily well or even a word of Dutch. This is the first time I've met my younger cousines, both asshole boys (in a cute annoying way) and my new aunt....

She's quiet but she knows French, we talk sort of but she's really bad at French soooo.... it's hard.

Today she came into my room and for 45 minutes I tried to guess what she was saying. I really tried. She's making all these hand gestures and when I suggest bathing suit she goes "Parfait!"

This is really interesting.
I really care about whatever the fuck it is I'm reading.

So I assumed that she got forgot her bathing suit in Holland and I offered her one. This is hard though because again I repeat she is Muslim and might as well use a body suit.

This is the problem with the Arab world. You keep those brown girls wrapped up like that, what are you people thinking?
Give me some time with them. I think I can unburden them from their silly religion.

There she shows me a Zumba video on youtube and says she does it. Then she goes on to babelfish trying to tell me something. After 15 minutes of mistranslations, she calls my uncle up because his profession is being a professional translator. This is what he had to say:

Oh great, let's struggle through a 45 minute conversation when someone can just translate for us.

"My wife says don't eat meat past 8 oclock, you'll get fat. Practice Zumba and it will help you lose weight. You know don't eat white bread. Bread makes you fat. She saysto use a hoola hoop to get a womanly figure. And.... to practice hip rolls where no one is watching."

Them brown girls man.

I just politely nodded my head and smiled wondering if she thought I was fat. All I heard in those sentences was fat and I wanted to hide in a corner. It's easy for her to say though, she hides her whole body in three different layers of clothes. She doesn't have a metabolic disorder and she's not forced to eat only meat and certain vegetables in her diet. And that I do indeed excercise going for runs and swimming.

Sounds like she's not making fucking excuses and she's taking care of herself.

It's nice to know I'm fat again.... at 150lbs. That my butt is too big and my boobs too bouncy. That my arms have no defined muscles. That my flat stomach and hour glass shape are not actually real.

>150 pounds
Let me do some quick calculations--
You should be 6'4" at that weight.

Yes, thank you.

I'm a girl.

DON'T HIT ON ME SILLY BOYS xP

Who misses a lot of school.

But would never a ditch a friend.

And if you compare me to a twat, well let's just say you'll regret it.

More so than the guy who has black eye right now.

Is that a threat?
I'll take my chances, actually. You admitted you're 150 pounds with no muscle mass.
I imagine I can at minimum outrun you, Jabba.

Which one book should everyone read, and why?

The Inferno.
Maybe then all of you wouldn't be horrible people.

Memoirs of a Geisha because it's all about reaching your dreams and pursuing happiness. Despite all the obstacles Sayuri/Chiyo has to overcome she learns something new along the way.

No I like my answer better.
Here's a post where she implies she's Arab and Irish.
I don't understand. And a white girl--
And Egyptian.
Apparently I don't know how race works.

I'm a FEMALE GAMER, so I MUST be ugly.

So the way this works is it's a huge list of stereotypes and you're supposed to put the ones that you are but don't fit the stereotype of in bold.
But I think as we all know this one is true.

I'm a GIRL who actually EATS LUNCH, so I MUST be fat.

Based off evidence earlier you could stand to skip a lunch or two.

I'm OVERWEIGHT, so I MUST have a problem with self control.

You just admitted to eating sour gumdrops mixed with ramen noodles for lunch.
Ignoring that's the most disgusting combination in history you clearly lack that part of the brain that tells you when something is a bad idea.
This is why you don't date second generation brown girls.

What is the best science fiction movie of all time, and why?

Blade Runner.

Planet of the Apes...
Nah just kidding
For me I always found the whole concept of the Matrix baffling yet tangible.
Theres also this t.v. show by Joss Whedon called Firefly which is really realistic.

If your answer isn't The Empire Strikes Back, Blade Runner, Aliens or Soylent Green you are objectively wrong.
Here's her top thirteen movies.
Why thirteen?
Anyway--

General Picks
1. Let The Right One In
2. The Dark Knight
3. Juno
4. The Boy In Striped Blue Pajamas
5. Memoirs Of A Geisha
6. Slum Dog Millionaire
7. Dogma
8. The Notebook
9. Pan's Labrynth
10. The Grudge
11. Lucky Number Slevin
12. Mystery Men
13. V For Vendetta

I've seen one of these.
I am so disconnected from modern culture and sometimes I'm really reminded of this.
But I've seen every Clint Eastwood western~
Anyway this blog is really boring so I'm going to go do something else with my time.

A boon to reward my faith

I find Livejournal waxes and wanes, like a tide of raw sewage. Some days finding a likely target is as simple as opening the Writer's Block responses-- other days it is quite literally hours of hunting.
Lately I've been feeling the tide of shit waning but, by Zeus, the swarm rises to meet me.

Why is freedom of speech important to you?

I believe there is only one man in history with writing talent enough to properly explain why this question is bullshit (hi it's me I'm that man)
"Your freedom is illusory. There is no such thing as freedom: merely a longer leash."
Gain power or freedom, become a slave to paranoia.

Silence is dull! As a gay rights activist and a feminist, the freedom to discuss and share my view with others is vital

What makes your views vital?
Looks like typical Livejournal bullshit to me, in fact.
That really is the incredible hypocrisy of Livejournal: let the pigs squeal at their supposed loss of their freedom of speech and oddly all the squeals start to sound identical.
Show me an original mind on Livejournal and I will show you someone entitled to their freedoms.

The contemporary philosopher looks to classical theology and spiritualism, in an attempt to reform humanism from its nihilistic tenancies.

Although tenancy is a word, the word you're looking for is tendency.

Ok im now 23, studying Philosophy at Sheffield University, and significantly happier than when I was at Aberystwyth (judged by the shit existentialist poetry)...Im gonna try and turn this blog into an LGBT and Womens page, whilst discussing international issue of interest! Much love

A philosophy major, oh boy.
Have you ever met anyone more pretentious than a philosophy major?
You really just need to look through this blog and hunt down a philosophy major (they're a regular target here) to see why they are so bad.
Oh boy it's poetry time.
I can't even remember the last time we had poetry time on Edie Finds a Corpse.

The mercury pages fold and snap upon the vigil shore

Informing men that the lines of ownership and god-given land still exist, however transparent

A malevolent wind strips bricked encasements of paint and workmanship

Chipping away at history, billowing down dusty alleys, sweeping forgotten pages into the sea

Seagulls scream for recognition, battling against blue hunger and cloud, they float unsteady in the breeze

The fuck am I reading?

Dungaree clad sailors shrink against an aggressive morning, bent double like a vacillating newborn

A solitary ship makes its call into port within the grey mist and obscurity



Piercing the darkness with its stolid stance, an angel points westwards

Awaiting storm and sun, embracing all and rejecting none

I'm going to stop reading here.
This is complete shit but I can't say it's objective worse than any of the poetry I had to read in Modern Poetry class.
That's not a compliment to this poem so much as it is a commentary on how shit poetry is.
I remember the one cool poet we read in that entire class was this guy who wrote a book of poems like three years ago about being a soldier in Afghanistan and there was this legit poem called something like "Last Call, Motherfucker".
Dude was even set to speak to the class but no he canceled at the last minute (can't say I blame him).

We live in the time of the human. The majority of the world rejects a higher entity and a higher power; therefore we are left to contemplate the human. Existentialism does just this, it’s scary and dramatic, and not always rewarding. Existential philosophy had been considered the explicit conceptual manifestation of an existential attitude that begins with a sense of disorientation and confusion in the face of an apparently meaningless or absurd world.

Thanks for this, philosophy 101.
Am I really letting this ignorant slut preach to me?
I could be playing FFXIV or something. I HAVE FUCKING IRON GREAVES TO MAKE.

Aberystwyth is a difficult place to be gay. I have heard it be called the epicentre of the gay community for Wales several times, but I have yet to experience this amazing gay culture that is spoken so highly of.

Might part of the problem with Aberystwyth be that it's named Abersytwyth? It took me like five tries to type that the two entire times I typed it. Is there a typing equivalent to a tongue twister?
I just found it regardless.

It's not that Wales is a hermetic place, wreathed in Christian law and intensely homophobic, in fact far from it.

The influence of the hedonistic students seems to give the place a rather progressive liberal feel, but this doesn't make up for the fact that the place is so minute.

I thought I had something to say to this but I don't.
I'm really trying to muster up enough fuck to type something on topic but I just can't.

A part of me feels eviscerated if I cannot experience sexually the wonders that university life has to offer me.

Is there a reason you're using your 50 cent vocabulary as often as you can outside of to piss me off?

I have yet to come to a conclusion about the relationship between student life and sex. It's a vital part of student life and it dominants a large proportion of students thoughts,

Dominates*
There is a difference between dominant and dominates. Perhaps if you stopped being pretentious for three seconds you'd find out what it is.

but it is not a necessity and many people go through university being carefree and focusing on their work rather than their sex-lives.

Yet this is difficult for gay people in Aberystwyth, we have no gay bar therefore no epicentres of congregation.

We have limited sized groups surrounding LGTB matters and it seems embarrassing to be affiliated with these types of organisation.

So you have a means to get what you seek but you're just too cowardly to take it?
And this is somehow the problem of this town of yours?
This town that must be pronounced like someone clearing their throat?

Students are well known for being paradoxal creatures of both excess and destitution simultaneously. A perfect analogy of this statement would be my weekend-past. I am a current member of the debating union at my university, its fairly intense stuff most of the time.

Someone tried to get me to join the debate society at my college once.
I got to try a sample debate. It was this: which is better, night or day?
My response?
"I don't have time to debate nonsense."
No response.
Looks like my skills are superior to the debate club.
The rest of the story is complete nonsense that I don't care about.

Many have argued that student life is a liberated and effortless lifestyle, that we just get drunk and spend a few hours a month hurriedly writing out pitiable essays.

That's because most of you do.
You can't fool me. I was there.

It’s imperative to look into the reasons why many people view students as sub-human, prole like characters.

That's because you write garbage like this on Livejournal and think your opinion matters.

I realise that the main argument in the defence (or offence) of these studentphiles is that students don’t work, therefore they have not earned their right to claim the dowry of the land as it were.

It'd be studentphobes, you dumb slut.
Studentphiles would be people who love students.

This evidently streams from our capitalist society and the formation of our education.

...
I'm going to need to see this evidence.

People go to university now not only to excel academically, but to mainly earn more money than people who do not graduate. This should not be the reasoning behind a university choice, yet for many it is the decisive factor and this I feel relinquishes the very concept of higher education.

This "knowledge for the sake of knowledge" philosophy is fine until you need a job.
This entry just kind of ends without really making a point.
Not that philosophy majors need a reason to be pretentious but I find it's usually a good idea to come to a point eventually.
Not that you have to be in any hurry, or anything. No sense being polite to your reader now, after all this.

It’s a likely fact that if you were to sit down with such active feminists as Germaine Greer and discus the implications of the sex industry upon eastern European women in the twentieth century, its highly likely that you will be subject to hours and hours of passionate debates and full hearted feministic anger, but I’m going to take a different stream of thought with the feminists, I’m not going to discuss feminism and female power, but simply take a brief look at women throughout the ages,

If I were so lucky to talk to Germaine Greer.
I haven't even heard of Germaine Greer. Who is Germaine Greer?
I'd look it up on Wikipedia but it looks like the internet is doing a FINE JOB OF CENSORING ITSELF RIGHT NOW.
DON'T NEED TO PASS SOPA, USA. EVERYONE WILL CENSOR THEMSELVES TO SHOW WHAT A BIG MEANIE HEAD YOU ARE.
She says "look at some women in history" but she looks at exactly one historical woman and that woman is Margaret Thatcher.

"In terms of success, Margaret Thatcher had the backup, in the sense that she had a man who was willing to pay for her very expensive campaigns but also pay for the childcare that was needed, so she could enter politics as a man and that was very important."

She's quoting some yahoo I've never heard of.
So there you have it, I suppose. To be successful in politics is to either be or act like a man.
FEMINISM.
This post ends with her claiming (assuming) that a dead Iranian politician is somehow a martyr for the rights of women.
And that's the first entry in this blog.
Jesus Christ on a fucking cross.
Siobhan (as that is your first name),
Can I call you Siobhan? Because I feel like you've put me through a lot.
This is Tim. Hi. I'm using my first name.
This blog is awful.
You are an illiterate, pretentious cunt and possibly a bad person.
I think you should do the world a favor and stop posting forever.
Signed,
Tim.

Crush Kill

Really, your slavish devotion to internet fads and memes is a substitution for real humor.

What is your dream for your children?

Today's writer's block.
BECAUSE IT'S MARTIN LUTHER KING DAY, GET IT?
I wish for my children the conviction to forge their own destiny and happiness.

To never be born into world with black people or jews. So I guess never be born is just going to have to be my final answer, unless someone's got a final solution. JK lolololololol! Seriously, just kidding.

Not preserved: the 50 links and crossed out words.
The links mostly linked to Encyclopedia Dramatica, a place where unfunny twats can find their comedy prepackaged for them. If you're 14.
The words "final solution" linked to an Encyclopedia Dramatica (ED in the future, I get the impression I'll be referencing them a lot today) about what you can do if you're offended.
Frankly I'm a little offended you thought such elementary trolling would have an effect on me, but I'm sure that wasn't your original goal.
Here's a post entitled "Thanks, /cgl/"
I wish the 'c' in /cgl/ stood for comedy, kid, because--

I just found something on the internet that just took my breath away, and left me in a puddle of semen.

Errr--
and the picture is a Nazi uniform.
I think we're in for the long haul.

Had a weird dream last night about aliens. And I had sex with an alien.

I played a game called Dark Seed where a guy has a dream he's getting brain fucked by an alien and wakes up with an alien embryo implanted in his brain and it'll explode out of his head if he can't solve the riddle of the Dark World.
Let's hope this is a similar situation.
As you may know I stand against the alien, the heretic and the demon in this blog but this is the one instance where I can side with the alien.
Also I'm really surprised you're having erotic dreams about women because, frankly friend, you're a complete homo.

So she decides to reveal to me, after a marathon of sex, she's actually a shape shifting, genderless alien from some distant planet. So I'm sort of not believing this until she shows me what she actually looks like, about 4 foot tall, olive skinned and with androgynous features, it had a really wicked sense of humor and I remember enjoying carrying on with it for some time.

Really?
Not even something exotic like those blue bitches with tentacle hair from Star Wars?
Oh well, whatever. Not my imagination.
Twi'leks, that's what they're called.
I've been playing TOR lately, I admit it.
I HAVE NOTHING TO HIDE.
I even surprised myself by picking the not obvious choice: I didn't pick Sith Inquisitor.
I picked Sith Warrior instead.
The critical difference between the two is...
I don't know, the Inquisitor doesn't appear to inquire into anything. Just spends all its fucking time mucking about in a tomb looking for lost artifacts.
In fact, the Warrior (from what I've seen) appears to spend far, far more time rooting out spies and heretics than the Inquisitor.
Did they get those plotlines backwards?
Possibly, Bioware is bad at game design.
Also can we discuss those blue bitches while I'm on the subject?
WHY IS MY BLUE BITCH FOLLOWER SO ANNOYING?
I kill this guy because he was fucking asking for it and it's -30 affection from her (like I give a fuck) but then I off a mother and her son in a cunning strategy to prevent them from gaining power and that's no affection change from her.
Is she fucking bipolar? The guy I killed clearly (I mean objectively, even) had it coming but this mother and son, despite being Sith, hadn't really done anything specific (yet) and she's perfectly okay with that.
Of course I give her a gold necklace and it completely negates the hatred she felt for me after I killed a guy in cold blood in front of her eyes.
I'll admit I pick the evil options but at least I'm upfront about it.
At least the character I created isn't giving me any lip.
In fact, she is so perfectly malevolent I am quite proud of the 10 minutes I spent making sure she looked suitable in the character creator.

I'm kind of excited and upset at the same time, because this was starting to seem like the time I met the girl that could shape shift into a calico (she would change into a cat from time to time, don't ask). She (it or he) was telling me that their kind had been mingling with people for centuries, that they mate for pleasure and if they require offspring, they seek a suitable human (or any self aware species) partner and through interaction and a kind of psychic empathetic bond, imprint the personality and features of their mate on what was described to me as being like a small receptor that imprints this collected data onto a fertilized egg, which is then placed under the care of an incubation machine until it hatches.

Oh right, Jesus.
You.
This creature sounds like it's becoming too powerful. Destroy it before it undermines the purity of mankind.
Also I'm surprised someone with a fascination for Nazi memorabilia and making references to the Final Solution being a good idea (OH RIGHT YOU WERE JUST JOKING LOLOLOLOL xP faggot) would have erotic dreams about something not human.
Actually I'm not surprised at all. You probably have furry porn on your hard drive, deviant.

I've heard a lot of horseshit about vidya games as an emerging art form, and I'm not going to make any coherent arguments about that one way or another. Because the Odyssey wasn't a pick your own path adventure book, video games currently don't rise to the level of other media in artistic value, nor would I want them to. The software developers responsible for classic games like Doom called themselves ID software, not as in i.d. but id software, pun intended.

Errr--
Of course, artistic merit isn't really an objective thing.
There are people (supremely misguided people, but still people) who don't consider the Odyssey worthy of aristic merit.
I taught roomfuls of them.
Wacka Flacka Flame: high quality entertainment and a poet of our time
the fucking Odyssey: EWWW THIS IS TOO BORING.
Youth truly is wasted on the young.

Because you shoot things and they die in massively gore ridden piles.

Have you read the Iliad?
The opening page contains the phrase "and Phoebus Apollo loosed his silvery darts and the funeral pyres burned long into the night."
First page: massacre.
Second page: rape, retribution, massacre
Third page: revenge massacre
Ignoring for the moment it doesn't go into much detail the Iliad really is one of the most violent books I've ever read.
That's really saying something, incidentally.
The Odyssey isn't that violent but it does go into gruesome detail when it gets violent. Half a page devoted to what happens when you stab a cyclops in the eye with a firey poker, awesome. I guess Homer reckoned if the kills are going to be few and far between he might as well get his mileage.

So games like this are full of moral or ethical decisions that have serious consequences inside the world of the game and through a system of dialogue trees you can intimidate, bribe, shame and manipulate other characters in any way you see fit, which can have disastrous effects on the game's plot.

Unless it's The Old Republic in which case you have a choice but one is supremely boring and the other one some blue whore nags at you for taking it.
It's a marriage simulator, holy shit.
I just need a new follower is the thing. Maybe a robot.

Some people, I've been seeing this more recently with the release of Skyrim, people are expressing their attachment to NPC follower characters in a way that starts to bridge the uncanny.

I beat every single questline in Skyrim before I was even aware you could marry people.
I really didn't give a single fuck about human interaction in Skyrim.
I appreciate not being reminded of my own antisocial tendencies in my antisocial hobby, thank you, Bethesda.

For instance, the first npc follower you get in Skyrim is Lydia the housecarl.

Yeah and that conversation ended pretty quickly for me:
"I'm your housecarl."
"My what?"
"I can follow you around and do shit for you."
"Great, start by staying here until I come back."
I'M A BARBARIAN WHO CAN LITERALLY SHOUT PEOPLE TO DEATH. I DON'T NEED ANYONE'S HELP IN THE ART OF MURDER.

There's something about mpreg fics that just fascinates me.

You've admitted to having erotic dreams about aliens and now you're talking about fanfiction.
You're a man, man.
I can understand the first part about aliens but now you're wandering into dark territory.

Not as if I go looking for them, but with the majority of fan fiction being written exclusively by women (littl grls) I see the appeal (or I am fooling myself into thinking I've gained some insight) impregnation plays in the phycolog- or whatever, I'm not going anywhere with this. Male characters becoming pregnant was the last thing I go looking for, maybe inflation comes in at a second least understood fandom fetish.

Fanfiction is beyond normal comprehension and it'd be best for you if you don't dwell on it.
If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes back, as they say.
I'm sure you're waiting for me to comment on the notion that these psychos are writing fanfiction about men becoming pregnant but frankly I've been aware of this deviancy for some time now so this is all old hat for me.

Also, I'm hoping some homegrown terrorism starts if anymore SOPA internet bullshit gets passed.

I can get behind SOPA if it stops fanfiction.
Maybe this is a woman, I don't know.
Although whoever this is did have an erotic dream involving women.
That doesn't preclude this being a woman if these past years have taught me anything.
I'm going to click their user profile.
I'm sure it'll be SOOO RANDUMB xP but maybe it'll shed some light on this abomination.
Nope.
Nothing.
At all.
In fact, the rest of the blog is so fucking stupid and filled with writer's blocks--
and I've reached the beginning.
Man, this blog sucks.
This blog is so shitty I should leave a comment.
I don't often do this but I feel this is necessary.

"- this user has disabled anonymous posting."

Oh but that won't stop me, because I had an account prepared in advance for exactly this situation.
I am nothing if not farsighted.

Notice! This user has turned on the option that logs your IP address when posting.

Oh.
Well, let me proxy up, then.
This is becoming increasingly not worth my time to call this guy a cunt directly to his face.
Not that I care if this jackoff has my IP but that's getting a little too close and personal for my tastes.

LiveJournal reserves the right, at its sole discretion, to suspend any Account, remove any Content, and/or restrict access to any part of the Service that contains full nudity, violence, obscenity, gang-related Content, hate-based Content based on racial, ethnic, gender, transgender, disability, or sexual orientation,

Oh well, I can take the passive aggressive way out and flag his account.
You know for someone who believes powerfully in the power of 4chan and being an anonymous troll on the internet he sure has taken extensive steps to ensure no one can fuck with him.
By "extensive" I mean I'd have to find a proxy and reset my browser but frankly I don't feel like logging back into this and Livejournal just to do that.
And if I can get his account closed I'm sure he'd rage and post all sorts of butthurt bullshit on his new Livejournal.
Ha, ha, ha, trolling at its finest. No effort, maximum damage.
I'll keep tabs on this situation.
I'm sure nothing will happen.

Oh boy here we go

Welcome to a life in lurid detail.
This is Edith Jones.
That's the user name.
Which is strange because all indications point to the writer's name being Allie. I don't understand.
Dueling Edie blogs. Who will endure?
Also thanks for making me click on each entry because it might shelter adult content. Wouldn't want to make those fascinating Writer's Blocks too easy to get to. Thanks for nothing.

Are you more of an optimist or a pessimist?

Who cares, seriously

I'm usually the one looking for the silver lining - trying to find a good side to everything. It doesn't always work, but I do try.

This is not always true. Right now I'm in the throes of mid-winter depression and I find it very hard to be positive about anything at all. For example: I'm always going to be this depressed, I'm never going to feel happy again....it sucks and it's really hard to fight through depression.

WHO
CARES
You know how people claim most of the internet is porn?
Well it turns out that's not true. In fact, less than 5% of the internet is porn. If I had to guess what mostly dominated the internet it would be shit like this.

But (and here comes the silver lining part of me) depression has always lifted before, and I need to remember that, and besides, the days are getting longer and before I know it, it will be spring again, and I'll be going to Cuba in the end of March, so I just have to keep trudging forward and spring will bloom inside me again, instead of the winter storms that are in my brain at the moment.

I try really hard to be an optimist. It sucks when it doesn't work.

An exercise in patience is what this blog is. Let's review the ways in which this is bringing my piss to a boil:
1. having to agree I'm 14 or older to read this. Ignoring for a moment I'm coming to a post that's written in such lurid detail were it a movie it would be deemed pornographic I seriously question who in their right mind would bother to put a warning up on a blog literally no one reads.
2. having to click on each individual entry after I've already agreed that I'm 14 or older, further agreeing that I, in fact, didn't lie. Why does it have to be like that? What, am I secretly 13, want to (for some reason) read what some 48 (!) year old cunt from Canada has to say about the writer's block, lie through the first warning then somehow get scared on the next layer of protection?
I imagine there are nuclear weapons installations that have fewer barriers to their payload than this shit.
3. to what end do I expend this effort? To read shit like the above thought? Why? What makes this even worth commenting about? I guarantee any chuckles gained from this entry will be me going off topic for the sake of entertainment.
Oh right, blogs.

Would you consider having plastic surgery?

Oh boy, here we go.

Am seriously considering collagen injections in the ring finger of my left hand as after more than three months, there is still the imprint of my wedding ring markedly visible.

Let past failures be branded on your skin.

I don't mind aging, white hair and wrinkles aren't something I worry about, but I do hate the fact that bare-chested I have all the sex appeal of a National Geographic photo about the indigenous tribes of Borneo. Apparently there is surgery that would make my boobs point forward instead of at the floor, and if I had more of a disposable income I might have my boobs "perked up" a little. It's something I've considered, but probably won't do, but from time to time I wish I could do it right now.

Mood: contemplative

Great. That is seriously a misuse of the term "contemplative". I usually see that in relation to monks or figures of great will and wisdom contemplating the deepest issues of space and time. Somehow I doubt breast surgery counts as a deep issue, let alone of existence.

I actually think I have managed to write a piece without swearing.

Fuck I'm stuck on double spacing now from this piece of shit blog and I can't figure out how to turn it off. God this is fucking wonderful. What's the tag for double space? Is it div? No? What the actual fuck? WHY DOES EVERYTHING SUCK?
There, fixed it.
I gotta be honest. I'm kind of losing patience with Allie.

Yesterday evening after work I sat on a park bench in front of the supermarket and watched the sky as it darkened. There was a moon that was trying to fit into its half-moon jeans, but was a little too heavy for them, and was being a half-moon with weight issues.

When you ascribe human characteristics to inanimate objects it's very important to make sure your audience knows what the fuck you're running at the mouth about. What are half-moon jeans? Could you possibly be describing a gibbous moon?
JUST SAY A GIBBOUS MOON. EVEN IF NO ONE KNOWS WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT THEY'LL PROBABLY KNOW WHAT A CRESCENT, HALF, NEW AND FULL MOON IS AND DEDUCE WHAT A GIBBOUS ONE LOOKS LIKE BY VIRTUE IT'S THE LAST FUCKING COMBINATION.
God.

People walked by, in and out of the store, car lights headed my way, or waned into the distance, carts clattered, chatter filled up my ears and then faded, a mother yelled at her children, a dog barked frantically, a horn blasted a couple of times, and in the distance traffic hummed quietly, a background sonata to the foreground melody.

Cut this. It adds precisely nothing.
I know you're trying to create a picture in my brain but you opened with a cold start so I need a reason to care and you're really not giving it to me.

I watched the clouds pass across the moon and skirt just below or above it, and sighed at the formation of a halo around it, an invariable sign of snow. But it did not snow last night. There wasn’t even a heavy frost. Sometimes what we expect does not happen, even if the Farmer’s Almanack tells us that it’s going to.

Zzzzzz

I was, like many teenagers, optimistic about what life had in store for me. In many ways, I’m happy about what life has brought my way. I was planning to marry (in no particular order) Prince Andrew, Prince Edward, Andy Gibb, Rex Smith, one of the Bay City Rollers, David Bowie, Bono, and probably there were other passing fancies as well. I was going to be a rock star wife who never needed to work. I was going to work as an interpreter at the UN in New York City or Geneva. I was going to do something exciting in London, England, in East Africa, in Australia, somewhere else.

My only desire after reading this is, like the Flesh Tearers Space Marines, to impetuously crush my foes.

I was going to be a stewardess, arriving at a different destination daily, I was going to be an English teacher, a librarian, a university professor, a doctor, a model on the international runways, a cashier (because I liked pushing buttons), an auto mechanic, a mother.

Yeah but then you sold out and-- hey wait, I am one of these.
No, these things are all selling out.
Unless you are an astronaut or a vampire hunter you probably sold out.

By time I was 13 I had not yet had my period but I had named my children. I had planned my best-selling novels, my ground-breaking poetry, my success, my interviews on The Michael Douglas Show, my book tours, the men who would be fascinated with me at every turn, sweep me off to romantic places, exquisite dinners, walks along the Champs Elysees.

By the time I'm your age you might finally be getting to the fucking point.
Can you believe this is still the same entry?
I feel like the seasons changed in real life.

My hyperactive imagination never considered children who wanted nothing to do with me, two divorces, penury, sharing an apartment with a crackwhore, living with my parents at age 48; in my dreams I had a wonderful marriage, was a perfect mother, and rich beyond my wildest dreams.

Oh boy.
Bitter divorces? Penury (or "poverty" as normal people say)? Living with a crack whore?
LET'S NOT WRITE ABOUT THAT.
INSTEAD: THE GROCERY STORE.
I am not exactly living the dream. No one looks at me and says “gee, I wish I had her life”.

Remember Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous? I would never be on that show!
Most people don’t look at my life closely enough to see what I do have. I have so much to offer. I have so much strength, because survivors do. That’s how you survive.

Did I complain about the endless writer's blocks before?
Is there anyway to apologize for complaining and we can go back to that?
Let's skip down a bit--

The man I wrote about in this week's piece was real. He had been to Catholic seminary, but at this point in his life was doing a PhD in philosophy. He had an on-again off-again girlfriend whom he eventually proposed to, and they got married. D. was a brilliant, intense man, who brought great enthusiasm and focus to everything he did in life, whether it was his studies, the music he wrote and played, as well as his relationships with anyone.

I hope they say that about me one day. "Brilliant, intense and uncompromising."

It wasn't a problem for me, being the person in between when he broke up with his girlfriend/fiancee and when they got back together. I was crazy about him and was very happy just to be with him when I could be. I knew there was no future there and I didn't want one. He was what I think of as an old-world chauvinist, and he liked women who were decorative (which I was)

I'm sure.
I'm sure you were decorative.

and who were Catholic (which I wasn't), and I knew that I didn't want to be the somewhat subservient woman that he was looking to spend his days with.

Yes you're an empowered woman who is happy being the rebound girlfriend in a doomed relationship.

Despite his troubled love life and his willingness to hook up with another woman when his relationship went off the rails, he may well have been the most religious man I've ever known.

Nothing like the hypocrisy of the deeply religious.
I feel like I should have come across the really lurid post before now.
Oh I accidentally skipped it.
FUCKING CONTENT NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS CUTS.

NOTE: This entry is distinctly erotic. It also should not be read by those who easily take offence.

I'M OFFENDED AT HOW SHITTY THIS BLOG IS.

He was a real pig in bed.

He really was. He used me as a place to stick his dick when he was horny. He didn’t care very much about pleasing me, although he was gratified when he did, and were it not for the fact that I’d brought lubricated condoms, his rough movements back and forth in my body would have been even more painful than they were.

EMPOWERED WOMAN.
This is based on a true story, incidentally.

As he began his devotions, my eyes caressed his naked body. “O Most Holy Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, I adore Thee profoundly. I offer Thee the most precious Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ present in all the tabernacles of the world”. Inspired, I shed my own clothing and spooned in behind him, wanting his body, wanting his soul. My hands reached around him and I found what I was looking for. He bent his head lower, spoke faster, as I used my hands on him, and soon, still praying, he was inside me again.

This reminds me of a scene in a Warhammer book.
It ended happily: with both parties consumed by the conflagration of the vengeful.

“Amen” he intoned as he entered me.

Here it comes. Salamanders crash through the ceiling and everything is in flames.

Supporting himself with one hand, he crossed himself, then made the sign of the cross first on my forehead and then on my body, stopping to stroke my nipples at The Son and The Holy Spirit. He never stopped thrusting. The sacrilege inspired me to an almost-instant orgasm.

Here it comes. Let the holy prometheum burn it to cinders.

I gave a prayer of thanks of my own as candles lit in his eyes, affectionately glad at my pleasure, and I leaned my head back on his cassock and wondered if I were condemning him to hell.

This entry is dedicated to the memory of D.P., who was a pig in bed and was never ordained, but went on to have a family and a university teaching post before dying of cancer at the age of 37.

Dying of SPACE MARINES at the age of 37.
Well, mixing sex, worship and smoking I imagine he did burn himself out pretty quick. That's quite the multitasking. I thought I was doing well when I was doing school work, playing the juego and watching a movie all at once. This guy really takes it to a new level.
Ooooooohhh goodness. I'm not reading anymore of this nonsense.
I HAVE THINGS TO CRAFT IN FFXIV.

Even the calmest ocean is a roiling chaos of currents and undertows

Ready for this?
Let's get this over with.
Yeah, that's 666 in her username. What, pick that name out when you turned 13?

Imagine an online game which is so close to reality, that you can feel and touch your opponent. What sport, activity or game would you want to play?

Some sort of melee-oriented game, naturally.
Who wouldn't pick the ultimate combat simulator?
Oh that's right. Girls.
HURRRR PETTING KITTENS IN VIRTUAL REALITY.

Imagine being tossed out of a plane 3 thousand feet in the air and allowing yourself to just free fall for a few seconds before you pull a cord that will jerk you to a stop for a split second before you begin once again falling towards the rocky earth below.

Except you can do that in real life and it's (relatively) safe. War zones, however, typically aren't.
If I'm playing a game I want to do shit that's either literally impossible for me to do in real life or is generally not advisable to do in real life.

You glance away from the ground you are plummeting towards and realize that you are about to drift into a cloud. For a few blissful moments all of your senses are cut away; you can not see anything further then an arms length away, the only sound you hear is the wind rushing past your ears and the silence of your breath when for a moment you forget to breath.

Ok.
Got it.
Breathe, incidentally.

Total isolation shifts in further when you realize that there are no recognizable scents drifting towards your nose and the only touch you feel is the wind on your face and the cords still clenched in your frozen fists. But before you can even appreciate the peace it all comes rushing back.

ALL RIGHT, JESUS.
SKYDIVING SIM. UNDERSTOOD.

Your now closer to the ground and are finally able to actually recognize the landmarks you are about to land on. At this point panic begins to set in; Will I be able to stop in time? What if my shoot gets caught on something? But before you can let anymore thoughts consume your mind you land.

You're*
chute*

My activity in a virtual reality game would have to be....Skydiving.

Oh really? I hadn't figured that out.

Why? Well, I would not want to try in real life for fear of the shoot not opening and plunging thousands of feet towards the ground to my eventual death. But falling through the air when I don't have a chance of making a mistake and just taking in the sites would be amazing.

God you're boring.
Are you joking? How many years of technological development are we away from fully realized virtual reality and you'd waste it on something you can do in real life? Not even something interesting. Just falling. FALLING SIMULATOR 2020.

It does not matter what the electronic is, the Wii, computers, or other hand held gadgets. I just don't get them. Although I have to admit that it is not all electronics I can under stand how to work a cell phone but besides that I feel like I am floundering in the middle of the ocean.

I've never seen understand written as two words.
I've seriously met people who thought it was spelled "unnerstand" but even they knew it was one word. Have you considered you might be floundering because you're an idiot?

This is not always a bad thing, with my laptop I never know what I am doing so when I stumble onto a new thing it is exciting until i can't remember how to get back to it later.

Solution we need a tutorial for electronics or at the very least a rep from the company to follow me along to answer my questions and show me where to click my mouse

Tutorial for electronics?
If only there was a book that had words written in it that explained how to work your technology. Maybe they could package it with the product?
We could call these words instructions.
An instruction book.
I'll inform the masses.

Ok so first you know that moment when you go out and you see that guy that was a total jerk to you in high school and he is working in some fast food type job, and then suddenly wants to know all about you, now.

No.
I don't.

I think it is called sweet justice when you get to laugh and drive away and he is still stuck there. Ahh, good times, but seriously he was a jerk in high school and you know that saying be nice to the nerds, cause one day they might be your boss, well this is a version of it, I like to call it "You should have been nicer to that kid, she may not be your boss but she is still doing better then you in LIFE!"

Somehow, with your command of the English language, I doubt you're doing much better than him. How are you even a nerd? You just said you don't understand technology, you clearly have almost 0 grasp of language and there is not a single entry of fanfiction on this shitty blog.
Are you that annoying girl who used to hang out with the group of nerds at your high school and they just wanted you to leave?
I dunno anymore, man.
Handily, I'm up to the beginning of this blog.
Good, I'm leaving.

EVERYBODY BETRAY ME

I AM FED AHP WITH THIS WORL
So if you remember quite a while ago you could just browse Livejournal by category and finding blogs was as easy as clicking on the (cultureless) culture section. Ah, those halcyon days.
Not so anymore, though: now I have to rely on writer's block to see myself to a good blog.
Relying on the writer's block implies you need a decent question to get the cunts responding.

Don’t cheat. Do you know how many countries there are in the world?

Okay first there are 194 countries in the world and second what the fuck is this shit?
I need you to help me out here, Livejournal. We're not getting through this unless you give me targets.
Luckily, and in no part at all to Livejournal, I found one.

Hundred and eighty-two, maybe? Somewhere in that neighborhood.

Her response.
I'm posting this like anyone gives a shit.
There are 194 countries, incidentally. I just checked.

It has indeed happened: my baby is in double digits. She got a somewhat protracted birthday celebration, with Ikea (for stuffed sharks and dragons, natch) on Tuesday, with bonus free chicken thumbs because it was post-mouthreaming for me and mashed potaybees sounded like a delicious and not in need of chewing dinner and also kids eat free on Tuesdays.

I care even less about this than I normally do.
Is it possible to give a negative number of fucks?
Because I think I just proved it's possible.
I actually have to give less fucks about something I give fucks about in the future thanks to this blog.

Increasingly frustrated and pessimistic with the state of national affairs.

I posted the Elizabeth Warren quote that's going around to my facebook and got a somewhat predictable nibble from my too-smart-to-be-that-libertarian cousin in New Mexico, followed by a smackdown that I didn't even have to participate in (thanks, awesome friendslist!) but I'm still fussing over it because it's just not a medium for anything like a protracted discussion, and I have all sorts of more in depth thoughts to articulate, except argh, character limit and the boat has sailed already and also argh, thumbs on a tiny keyboard.

Goddamn you type some long sentences.
I never like to stop mid-sentence because it looks like I'm censoring so I find myself just quoting and quoting and quoting. Can you please get to the point? Also she included the Elizabeth Warren (I don't even know who that is) quote in a link I did delete because the article it linked to was too fucking stupid to bear plugging but suffice it to say the quote is about how taxing the wealthy is a good idea because those taxes pay for roads and to keep barbarian hordes (actual part of the quote) at bay.
And you thought your tax money was going to graft and corruption!
No, it was fighting barbarians, duh.
... I don't see any Goths or Vandals or Gauls, do you?
I think the tax money has done its job, then, all right.

Why yes, I do have a mohawk again. Was sorely tempted (and actually tempted, by partner-who-hates-mohawks daring me) to just go ahead and shave it all off, but I'm ever so fond of the hot pink. (Pic posted in the gallery, too lazy to thumbnail it here. Picture every other shot of me, only superimpose a hot pink mohawk over whatever hair comes to mind.)

She's 35, I'd like to point out.
35, with children. Pink mowhawk-- has three posts about how she's not intent on embarrassing her children because they're now at the age where they can be embarrassed by their parents (woe is her).
...
Strange disconnect, there.

Aiee. Having a bit of a peak in the ceaseless tides of my restlessness. Partly due to a determination not to let myself stop living after watching my parents and their sibs start to decide that they are old and decrepit, partly the usual instigator of "but what do I want to BE when I grow up?"

Am I looking at a coherent thought?
Nope, looks like pig noises to me.

Not that I'm ungrateful that I've managed to dodge the question thus far, but still wrestling with accepting that I will neither have a job that fulfills me, nor make enough money to support myself any time soon doing the things that I love.

Oh let me dredge up sympathy for my special princess.
MY JOB DOESN'T FULFILL ME ;_;
Weren't you just posting about how middle class people are resorting to food banks?
Hey, at least that isn't you.

So. As some of you are already aware, my kids go to the "environmental science" magnet school. (Well, actually, the older one now goes to the gifted, talented & performing arts middle school. Ay, the aging, it hurts.)

The what?
Actually there's one of those near where I live.
They were looking for a science teacher at a job fair I went to. I debated leaving my resume with them but somehow I doubt an English teacher is qualified to teach environmental science.
HIPPIE BULLSHIT was the one environmental science class I've had so I figure I'm as qualified as anyone, but I decided against it out of fear it would leave a bad impression.

Anyway, other than all THAT, it's totally green!*

That was a big selling point at the job fair, too.
THESE SCHOOLS ARE GREEN! The assistant to the assistant school board director stated proudly.
I had a moment where my eyes glazed over. Green in what?
Oh, green as environmentally friendly WHO GIVES A FUCK?
I'M FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE IN A DARWINIAN SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST CONTEST IN PUSSY SENSITIVITY. WHETHER THE LIGHT BULBS ARE RECYCLED IS PRETTY FAR DOWN ON MY LIST OF CONCERNS.
And like a true pussy (not sensitive, just a pussy) someone asked me what I thought about all the green schools. I should have spoken my fucking mind but you know what I said instead?
"I think it's a great thing."
This was briefly after I was asked if I wanted to leave my resume for the local prison that's hiring exactly one teacher.
I think no and thank you.

So last Friday was the ecofair slash school picnic, which was a complete clusterfracas. I was supremely irritated to be dealing with a crying child, because the email specifically said there would be a free BBQ and desserts sold by the PTA, yet when we got there an hour after it started there was no food other than the PTA table (selling rice krispie treats for a buck apiece), and at 6:30 a catering truck finally showed up with shitty mac n cheese, fried chicken, anemic salad, and a bunch of mayo-based food poisoning in a bowl type stuff. (Fried chicken and catering trucks: not a BBQ, last I checked.)

Oh right, I'm off topic.
Back to the non-point.
I cannot imagine going to something called an ecofair or siring a child interested in something called an ecofair.

No vegetarian option, unless you count the totally anemic garden salad, but whatevs. I didn't complain about that, because the PTA policy appears to be along the lines of "Open Thy Mouth And It Shall Become Thy Problem."

The only reason it should become a problem is if you're making it a problem. You were clearly interested in BBQ before so are you vegetarian?
No?
THEN WHY ARE YOU BITCHING ABOUT IT?

I lost patience, however, when I was standing on line (for half an hour) and saw how much plastic trash was on the ground. Cups, forks, little plastic toys that were party favors, and a handy plastic bag! to gather it all.

You should have seen the prodigious amounts of waste at the school where I interned. It was especially great during the great remodeling project when I got to scavenge through dumpsters for ink cartridges like it's a post-apocalyptic nightmare where I'm scavenging for useful parts to repair prewar equipment.
Eventually I found an ink cartridge in someone's printer.
Funny, you'd have thought I would have looked for one there first.

There IS such a thing as the truth, and there *is* a right thing to do, and anybody who tries to tell you otherwise is lying for political gain. This business about "Oh, well, everybody has a different opinion on whether that's a good thing?" BULL. SHIT.

Except they do.
This isn't really a thing you can argue. If there were an objective "right action" to take there wouldn't be the debates about what to do.

You can have an opinion in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, sure, but in the end THERE IS A RIGHT ANSWER.

If there's "evidence to the contrary" it stops being an opinion and becomes a fact.
I know I've said it before but opinions, that is, subjective ideas, can't really be right or wrong because they're exactly that: subjective.
The second you start talking about validity and proof and theory it stops being an opinion and becomes science or mathematics.
There is no room for opinions in these fields.

It usually does not involve fucking over the poor, minorities, women, or anybody else.

Except it usually does. Getting your way typically involves fucking someone else over.

I post employment ads daily. This morning, I was reamed out for the use of the phrase "licensed aides" in a headline for an ad which stated a NJ CHHA license as a requirement, because we might get responses from CNAs. (Whom we hire and use anyway, shh.)

Oh no not NJ CNAs instead of CHHAs!
This is shit I read constantly while looking for a job. I just ignore it and apply anyway, assuming whatever it is isn't a real thing (happens regularly) or it's not really that important.
Ignoring this alphabet soup bullshit has gotten me this far in life-- it will see me to the end.
Seriously, what is a CNA?
...
I don't know, actually.
Acronym finder proposes it's a Certified Nursing Assistant, which seems likely, but what's a CHHA?
Ah right, yeah. Certified Home Health Aid.
Have you people ever stopped to consider for a moment that perhaps we're too specialized?
What, pray tell, is the critical (I mean critical, like critical enough to explain to me) difference between a Certified Nursing Assistant and a Certified Home Health Aid?
Logically a CNA works in a hospital while a CHHA works at a home, but can't a nurse work at home, too?
Why is a nurse precluded from working with a patient at home?
Are these equally qualified positions?
Why does a nurse need an aid? Isn't she already an aid to a doctor?
Why is healthcare a chain of command now?
Why is it when I go to a doctor I see fifteen secretaries and three interns to get a ball of earwax removed from my ear and it's called surgery on my bill?
What is surgery, then? Apparently talking to a doctor qualifies as surgery now.

Edit: I should mention that I've been responsible for the ads for a year now, and until today it has been a-ok to use the phrase, as long as it's clear that we are officially only hiring CHHAs.

If you don't produce something you are a leech on society.
We can debate a bit about what constitutes production but if your job is hiring CNAs and CHHAs you are part of the problem.
Whoever coins these phrases is part of the fucking problem, too. CNA and CHHA-- nurse, got it.
Easy and to the point.

Would you rather be super-rich or super-smart if you would only be average in the other category?

So my choice is happy and rich or poor and miserable?
Is this seriously a choice I have to make?
"You can have sex with Natalie Portman or we can let a rabid wolf maul your crotch."
WELL LET ME THINK.
Name one smart person who is truly happy with things in life.

Gosh, let's see. Brilliant and comfortable financially, or super-rich and a C student? Well, as much as only one would ever let me be president, I think it's a no-brainer. Hell, I'd take poor and smart over rich and dumb enough to fall for teabagger propaganda. ;)

Funnily enough not taking rich and average proves you're pretty stupid so I guess you don't have either thing going for you.
Of course, this is someone who goes on (frequent) rants about politics on her Livejournal so her intelligence was questionable anyway.

You know what I hate about the Teabaggers?

This is coming off the post where she posts about how Republicans can only resort to name calling because they can't come up with a solid argument against Democrat logic.
Calling Tea Party members Teabaggers-- sort of like a name calling thing, huh?

No, not their "I done brung mahself up by mah bootstraps" posturing while they drive on public roads, go to public school, and enjoy substantial government subsidies to their daily life without which I can absolutely assure you they would NOT be anywhere near the top of the food chain.

No, not the "I got a (microscopically tiny) piece of the pie and Imma hang onto it and screw everybody else!" shortsightedness, egotism, and overall fuckwittery.

This is what we in the litfag world call a "strawman" attack where you're basically just putting words in their mouth and then refuting points they didn't specifically make but whatever, proceed.

Maybe a little bit that god damn it, there are FACTS involved in the shit they're talking about, and they are not only wrong about what they are, but completely wrong about what's a matter of verifiable, documentable goddamn FACTS and what's an opinion. Just because it doesn't support your world view doesn't mean it's an opinion, asshole. Did I mention that there are things which are true and how completely wrong about some of them you are?

Do you want to give me an example or can I just call you an idiot and move on?

I've tried various bathing suit shapes over the years. Piping to give me a "bust" and "hips" in my cross-country, 34AA-26-34 days.

I can't take this shit anymore. I officially know too much about you.
I'm sure I've said before that anymore than a handful is a waste but 34AA doesn't even qualify as a handful.
And I'm sure you're not a brown girl.
And even if you are I think you're trouble and I don't like you.

Oh

Hi.
Get ready to witness this guy's mess of a life.

When was the last time you said thank you?

Not two hours ago when me and a bunch of intrepid adventurers purged death cultists from the face of FFXIV.
RECIDIVISTS, HERETICS AND MUTANTS.

I'm saving up my "Thank you's" until after the divorce :) .

Oh yep, I clicked on this blog purely for the promise of divorce drama.
And it delivered, so here we are.
At first I reckoned this to be a woman but a quick rethinking of that stance and I decided it was likely a man. Whose fury over a divorce could be so incandescent to warrant this, yet so impotent as to force you to keep a blog about it?
Only a man could be so utterly emasculated.
A woman might get angry but she could at least take comfort in taking the house and the car and 50% of the other assets and the children.
Oh but nope, this is one of those "sensible" divorces where everyone stays friends at the end.
Except no, I don't foresee that happening.

lol
I'm not going to rehash all the ill fortune I've had this year.
Just wanted to wish all of you a better, happier & more fulfilling New Year.
2012...

I wish you would have, because at this rate I need a scorecard.

edit:
Chris, the lady I asked out, texted me a "Happy New Year" too! This time she said she'd like a lunch date, no hesitation.

Rebound girlfriend.

Of course she may just be 'being nice' since I'm interested in buying a horse trailer from her.
WTF? A person can never have too many friends :) .

Just a friend who you're asking out.
On a date.

I walked in on the ex, while she was using her office phone for personal calls, on Thursday. What a BITCH! She was rude & obnoxious to me for no reason other than HER guilty conscience. I hope she loses this job, after I'm gone.

You could see to that, I imagine.
You just admitted you wished for revenge. This would be felt like a keen edge, I think.

Yesterday I went to Laramie for some books & videos, then out to the cabin. Just avoiding the BITCH until she leaves for her whoring expedition. First holiday we've spent apart in 12yrs. Hope she lives through the worst weekend of her life, and that its her last rational thought many years down the road.

"I hope its (sic) her last rational thought many years down the road", what?
What does that mean?
So you hope something bad happens to her and that the knowledge that it was bad occurs to her only later?
That's an interesting thing to wish on someone.
Assuming that is what you mean but frankly you're a semiliterate idiot so who knows.

Took the last of the prescription meds Friday. I needed the crutch at a really bad time, but its time to move on.
Those drugs not only stopped depression, and stabilized my moods... they also shaved 30 points right off the top of my IQ.

Oh that's great.
If your story is to be believed (and it isn't) your wife cheated on you and is taking half your assets.
Of course you're depressed. You don't need pills, you need a plan in life.

Worked another half day yesterday. Afterwards went to Walmart, wanted more ammo in my stash but they were out of my flavor.

OH GOOD.
I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO LOSE, I JUST STOPPED TAKING ANTIDEPRESSANTS AND LET ME SHOP FOR AMMO AT THE WAL-MART.

Still have to haul my Faraday cage out there.

Why do you own a Faraday cage?
Faraday cages, for those of you not familiar with science or fucking crazy talk, is a device used to block electric currents.

Google the upcoming 2012 solar storms if you have any questions. Lots of info on the web. There is a real possibility of grid failure for months!!!

If the grid fails your fucking crazy tinfoil hat won't help.

OK, I de-boned an antelope, melted lead and cast more bullets, made a powder measure with an old antler tip (67gr), & stained some shelving for the cabin.

Glad to see you're keeping busy in hillbilly land.

We get some wooden pallets at work that come with some nice lumber. The whorls & knots on some pieces are quite attractive when the stain hits them.
Now I'm at loose ends again. Must find something to occupy myself. I wanted to put an edge on a knife I recently bought, but the metal was tempered unevenly when cut. I'll have to find a blacksmith to correct that.

A blacksmith?
Taking the bones out of an antelopes?
Are you a FFXIV character?
Is this just an elaborate roleplay for a video game I don't understand?

In my last blog I mentioned having more in the joint account than either of us realized. Well, I've had time to think. There is no way she didn't have a clue about the amount, she handled that account and received the banking statements monthly. So in effect she was hiding the total from me, to pull out at a later date without my knowing. What chaps my ass is that the moneys were put there through MY direct deposit from work, no contribution from her, and I got half! Oh well, at least I got something.

>Money she didn't earn
>she gets half
You know, if I robbed you of half your money right now at gunpoint you wouldn't be saying "oh well, at least I got something."
But, really, consider it your "too stupid to follow my sage advice" tax and leave it at that.
Admittedly you're 52 and got married 12 years ago (when I was busy being hurrr durrr 13) but still, I figured this shit out, you could have too.

My extravagance was in ordering a cartridge bandoleer for my .44mag Mares Leg.

What the fuck?
A mares leg, for those of you blissfully unaware of crazy bullshit, is a rifle with a shortened barrel and stock.
It's basically halfway between a pistol and a carbine.
I was under the (obviously mistaken) impression this wasn't a real weapon but was sometimes featured in movies because it looked cool, but here we are.
Great.

The bandoleer is from Triple K. A Mares Leg is historically a lever action rifle shortened at the barrel and stock, used as a large handgun.

Yeah that's what I just said.
I didn't know they were lever action though so thanks for clarifying.
I guess.
I don't need more crazy shit in my head because I look as crazy as you people do explaining this shit.

The one I have was manufactured that way to avoid all the BS incumbent with illegally modifying an existing rifle.

Those bullshit gun laws not wanting you to modify rifles so you can fire them like pistols.
WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU WANT TO KEEP PEOPLE FROM DOING THAT?

For anyone who is curious, its the Ranch Hand made by Rossi.
I'll have an acquaintance of mine, who is good with leather work, mate the bandoleer to my holster. The holster is in actuality an abbreviated saddle scabbard I had purchased for my Australian stock saddle.

I don't know whether to horrified at the hillbilly off antidepressants purchasing a rifle with a pistol grip or impressed because his real life sounds like an average day in FFXIV to me.

I'm still ambivalent about the divorce. I still love her despite everything, but divorce is all that's left after her numerous affairs.
Personally, I think there is something organically wrong inside her head, making my devoted wife of 12yrs perform acts of bad judgement.

I've preached the philosophy before knowing full well it would be ignored.
Just like Jesus.
Last weekend was a fiasco.

I got thoroughly drunk and wrecked a lot of stuff, hers and mine. Even trashed the internet dish. Been sober for almost five years.

The hits
The hits, they keep rolling.
Man, this guy is actually really boring. Except for the occasional outburst like that (with no follow up, I might add) it's just typical bullshit.
Ehhhh and I don't really see the rest of this blog happening. I was hoping for a big reveal but it just never really panned out.