Okay so I took a LOOOONG break....I'd say I had an extremely good reason for not writing in this blog I just SWORE I would write in daily.....but no. I do not. So, it is 2:30 in the am and I can't sleep. Mostly because of the subject matter I have been reading about recently...which I will get to soon. Before that though, I am adding a little something to each entry. Hopefully this will make me a bit more conscientious about writing on this bad boy. Since I am quite the hateful bitch, I will be adding a list called "10 things I hate about" to the beginning of each post....so here we go.
*10 things I hate about Beki*
1. Beki lives in Australia. I don't like Australia. I do like Beki. Therein lies the problem.
2. Beki kicks my ASS every single time we play online Scrabble. Every. Single. Time. Now, I fancy myself to be a person of above average intelligence and yet I can NOT manage to even get close to possibly winning a Scrabble match against her. Sigh.
3. Beki eats Vegemite. Look up Vegemite and my reasons for hating this will be understood. Fucking. Aussies.
4. On most days, Beki is a better singer then I.
5. Beki Don't burn no chicken.
6. I am running out of things to hate about Beki.
7. Beki tells me shit and I TRY to disagree, but she just makes to much sense and...um...That is pretty lame.
8. Beki has never eaten authentic Mexican food.
9. Beki has never met an actual Mexican person. I know, right?
10. Beki has never eaten Lucky Charms. Pfft, well I needed a #10....
Rant #3
So....I was reading about the guy who ate the homeless mans face down in Florida. I will admit, I was extremely disturbed by this story. I wont review what I read about because that event isn't he major issue. The major issue is what reading that story led me to read. As with most news articles, there are always links to similar stories at the bottom or top of which ever article you read. On this particular article, there was a link about the Canadian amateur porn star who allegedly sent a foot to some politicians office. He also sent a hand, but that package was intercepted by the police before it was delivered. Now, as disturbing as that is, the details surrounding this fucker and what he did to the person who owned those body parts, are so disturbing that I just can't get it out of my head. Then, I read that there was a video that had been posted online of this guy committing the crimes he is accused of. I did a bit of digging and sure enough, there are several gore sites that have the video. They also were so kind as to write in great detail exactly what happens in the a fore mentioned video. Now, I have not seen it and I have no desire to, but I have read the comments regarding the acts performed in it. I also watched a couple of reaction videos out of morbid curiosity (believe me when I say that "True Faith" by New Order will never be the same for me).
So here begins my rant......What kind of FUCKED up world do we live in? I am not just talking about the individual that killed this poor man and did terrible things to him. He is a fucking nut job. I am talking about the people who watched this happen on a video and had things to say like "there isn't enough blood" or " this sux because he was already dead when he cut him up" or " I really hate this song. It's kind of gay.". Really? I understand the morbid curiosity or the need to understand what makes a person DO something like that to another person. I even get that once you are desensitized to certain things, the level of outrage drops for some. I get that. What I don't get is how people can honestly not care about the life that was lost and have the nerve to get pissed because they were not entertained enough. That sickens me. I have seen some terrible shit floating around the internet. I have seen suffering and graphic death. Each and EVERY time I see it, I want to cry a little because I can not believe that this person or these people had to suffer so much at the hands of another. Or were the victims of a tragic accident. I have not lost my compassion for people and I have been seeing things like this for years. I dunno, it's just really fucking terrible what these people think about suffering. How they view "victims". I have heard the term "Darwinism" thrown around a ton in regards to the individuals that find themselves on the receiving end of some psychotic assholes idea of a good time. CLEARLY you fuckers have NO real understanding as to what "survival of the fittest really means". See a shrink and read a goddamn book. Also, I understand the whole idea behind censorship being "wrong" and how people have a right to "know". I get it. However, these gore sites that use that as an excuse to show extremely graphic images with absolutely no regard for the family of those they are exploiting then point to amendments or act like they are doing some good in the world.....give me a fucking break. You soul-less bastards are fooling no one and I wonder how you sleep at night. You aren't trying to enlighten people, you are trying to outrage and hurt people. At least be honest about your intentions. Have some fucking integrity, since you obviously lack human decency.....anyway.....I need to stop talking about it before I flip the fuck out and smash my computer.
Rave #2
I love music. Seriously. No matter how bad I feel, I can just listen to a song and be transported to a place where I don't have bad credit. To a place where there are no screaming children or whining, suicidal dogs. To a place where I can just BE and not have to think. I recently introduced my friend Beki to Lizzie West. She is AMAZING. I first discovered Lizzie while watching Secretary. Its a movie staring Maggie Gyllenhaal and James Spader. It's fucking AWESOME. I will get into some movie picks and reviews at a later date....anyway, at the end there is this song by Ms. West called Chariots Rise that is just so fucking beautiful. I fell in love with it from the very first note....it's just....yea, it's the shit. It's definately one of those songs that takes you to a place or a feeling. It's what I like to call a "repeater". A song that I will just play over and over agin for like an hour. Anyway, I think she is a special artist and worthy of some fan fare. In this world full of chaos, uncertainty, and pain...sometimes all we have is the simple things that make it more bearable. Music is my escape. Music is my grand passion....my soul-mate. My safety net. My voice. With the trees disappearing, the ice caps melting, all the Hollywood plastic and the animals dying...music is evidence that beauty still exists.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Monday, November 22, 2010
Target, Colon cleansing and other fun mischief
Today I went to Target to spend my hard earned cash. Upon my arrival, I realized I had no idea what I was shopping for. I do this often, enter a store with money and little expectation only to exit later with less money and useless crap. I decided to buy a pair of jeans and perhaps a coat. Enter rant #2....Why, oh, why do people park theirs carts in the middle of the isle and then stand protectively next to it; thereby completely blocking the entire isle. Why do they do this? Americans are fucking RUDE, thats why. I say this AS an occasionally rude American and as the victim of several. My typical rude offenses don't extend past cutting people off in traffic or being an overzealous horn honker and most of that is due to my utter hopelessness as a shitty driver and I own up to that. Sigh, anyway, I left Target a $100 lighter and with shitty headphones which I hope to return tomorrow. No jeans. No coat. Epic Fail.
I have come to the conclusion that over time, I hope to progress from a Fat Chick with her rants to a Less Fat, Hopefully Thinner and Healthier Chick and her rants. This blog will be my little journal of weight loss and ever existing melancholy. Can't be all bad stuff though, I will work hard to find things to rave about.
Rave #1
Target team members are super rad. Not only are they happier then Walmart team members, but they are actually helpful. I approached a lad in the pharmacy area to inquire as to the whereabouts of disposable enemas and he was super helpful. Now I'd imagine questions regarding enemas not to be atypical , especially from anyone under the age of 60. To make things more interesting, I look younger then my already unadvanced age of 28 and I was wearing my white Jim Morrison tee with a dumb skirt and stupid shoes. Not the typical look of the user of enemas, i'd wager. Still this dude ( who couldn't be older then 18) didn't blink or smirk or say "uhhh" ( typical Walmart worker's response). He just said sure and took me 3 isles down and directed me to the very bottom isle where the disposable enemas dwell. Very rad, Target team member. Very rad. That's professionalism that should be expected but is so rarely actually executed that I gotta give some kudos. Woo. Hoo.
On the topic of Enemas......I have decided to do by monthly "colon cleanses" to help fuel my diet. I have heard great things about the benefits and I will be partaking in the "coffee" variety. Hopefully, all goes well.
So ends blog #2. Very glorious Indeed.
I have come to the conclusion that over time, I hope to progress from a Fat Chick with her rants to a Less Fat, Hopefully Thinner and Healthier Chick and her rants. This blog will be my little journal of weight loss and ever existing melancholy. Can't be all bad stuff though, I will work hard to find things to rave about.
Rave #1
Target team members are super rad. Not only are they happier then Walmart team members, but they are actually helpful. I approached a lad in the pharmacy area to inquire as to the whereabouts of disposable enemas and he was super helpful. Now I'd imagine questions regarding enemas not to be atypical , especially from anyone under the age of 60. To make things more interesting, I look younger then my already unadvanced age of 28 and I was wearing my white Jim Morrison tee with a dumb skirt and stupid shoes. Not the typical look of the user of enemas, i'd wager. Still this dude ( who couldn't be older then 18) didn't blink or smirk or say "uhhh" ( typical Walmart worker's response). He just said sure and took me 3 isles down and directed me to the very bottom isle where the disposable enemas dwell. Very rad, Target team member. Very rad. That's professionalism that should be expected but is so rarely actually executed that I gotta give some kudos. Woo. Hoo.
On the topic of Enemas......I have decided to do by monthly "colon cleanses" to help fuel my diet. I have heard great things about the benefits and I will be partaking in the "coffee" variety. Hopefully, all goes well.
So ends blog #2. Very glorious Indeed.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Introduction To my Rants n Raves
Initial Rant
Where did Punk Rock go? No, no. Where did the Punk Rock attitude go? Why, it's been recycled through our blood into our children, of course! Proof? All the dirty, violent little vermin that come into my job and throw candy on the floor and spit and destroy things and act out because their parents are ignoring them seem pretty punk rock to me.
1. Filthy - check
2. Screams all the time - check
3. Really bad hair - check
4. Hates authority - check
5. Juggles fecal matter - check
6. Eats out of trash cans - check
Is it GG. Allin or a 3 yr old? Seriously they even have them on drugs super young these days....little punks.
A little off topic...
Randomly, I remember bits and pieces of my childhood whilst engaged in unrelated activities. I was washing dishes a bit ago and listening to music on my mp3 player at random when "When I Come Around" by Green Day came on. I was instantly taken back to being 11 years old, in my bedroom listening to a local radio station. I had a bunch of Teddy Ruxpin tapes and I would put aluminum foil in the tops so I could tape over them with my favorite songs from the radio. On this day, I had just taped "Rooster" by Alice in Chains and No Name, the dj announced he'd be playing some Green Day in the next hour. I'd used up the last of my tapes and was frantic. I LOVED me some Green Day ( still do). I went into my moms room and grabbed one of her tapes ( Gladys Knight and the Pips? Who the hell are they, anyway), shoved wades of aluminum foil in the appropriate spots and was able to catch my fave Green Day song in time to record it. Yes! It was joyous....Until my mother happened across the cassette whilst getting my laundry. Now this memory sticks in my head because forever after, Green Day's "When I Come Around" became synonymous with the worst ass whipping I can remember receiving. I couldn't sit right for at least 2 days. If i'd been a smarter child, I wouldn't have used a cassette that was actually in my mothers cassettes player, but instead looked for one of her more obscure ones ( Who the FUCK is Cat Stevens?). That Gladys Knight and the Pips tape had my moms favorite "Booze Ballads" on it ( Booze Ballad: n. A song someone prefers to sing while heavily intoxicated). Ahh, memories.
And so it starts.
Where did Punk Rock go? No, no. Where did the Punk Rock attitude go? Why, it's been recycled through our blood into our children, of course! Proof? All the dirty, violent little vermin that come into my job and throw candy on the floor and spit and destroy things and act out because their parents are ignoring them seem pretty punk rock to me.
1. Filthy - check
2. Screams all the time - check
3. Really bad hair - check
4. Hates authority - check
5. Juggles fecal matter - check
6. Eats out of trash cans - check
Is it GG. Allin or a 3 yr old? Seriously they even have them on drugs super young these days....little punks.
A little off topic...
Randomly, I remember bits and pieces of my childhood whilst engaged in unrelated activities. I was washing dishes a bit ago and listening to music on my mp3 player at random when "When I Come Around" by Green Day came on. I was instantly taken back to being 11 years old, in my bedroom listening to a local radio station. I had a bunch of Teddy Ruxpin tapes and I would put aluminum foil in the tops so I could tape over them with my favorite songs from the radio. On this day, I had just taped "Rooster" by Alice in Chains and No Name, the dj announced he'd be playing some Green Day in the next hour. I'd used up the last of my tapes and was frantic. I LOVED me some Green Day ( still do). I went into my moms room and grabbed one of her tapes ( Gladys Knight and the Pips? Who the hell are they, anyway), shoved wades of aluminum foil in the appropriate spots and was able to catch my fave Green Day song in time to record it. Yes! It was joyous....Until my mother happened across the cassette whilst getting my laundry. Now this memory sticks in my head because forever after, Green Day's "When I Come Around" became synonymous with the worst ass whipping I can remember receiving. I couldn't sit right for at least 2 days. If i'd been a smarter child, I wouldn't have used a cassette that was actually in my mothers cassettes player, but instead looked for one of her more obscure ones ( Who the FUCK is Cat Stevens?). That Gladys Knight and the Pips tape had my moms favorite "Booze Ballads" on it ( Booze Ballad: n. A song someone prefers to sing while heavily intoxicated). Ahh, memories.
And so it starts.
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