tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31498211950967105762024-03-05T00:49:35.292-06:00Fiendly Grimmish"He attacked everything in life with a mix of extraordinary genius and naive incompetence, and it was often difficult to tell which was which" - Douglas AdamsFiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-38486215489293729132012-10-02T08:04:00.001-06:002012-10-02T08:12:02.274-06:00*yaaaawn* What year is it?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_8FtwXytWVMMkYp6p7WoOWs4As-rZCRFtWQ6gK2yA00SQUGWkNPem3jYvp3Yd_gFB_BvVLX0P0QxD2VOORazbWicFEVv0atkSqlFLTmjg6H1bYOD1DwsG-KKBP8h8sDavIXd6ZQBbpLY/s1600/wtf_photos_from_the_past_09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_8FtwXytWVMMkYp6p7WoOWs4As-rZCRFtWQ6gK2yA00SQUGWkNPem3jYvp3Yd_gFB_BvVLX0P0QxD2VOORazbWicFEVv0atkSqlFLTmjg6H1bYOD1DwsG-KKBP8h8sDavIXd6ZQBbpLY/s320/wtf_photos_from_the_past_09.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
Ok... what the actual fuck?</h3>
<div align="left" style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Jesus... It's been a long time. I missed you. No, really! What have you been up to? That's cool. Same old same old, eh? Me? Well allow me to bore you with an incredibly detailed blog update that I'm writing in order to take up time at work...</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgXgziifDHLub0XUPEd9FuxtjxFXJ83Ct9HZrhhejvn0dQi3kduVx_FckFhD-vEqUQhxKBMbWM080KRAIjWrAwdc6xYMCy8n0jYZciIx2B7h-wnW4ZGhrXJCHHOopoMXFjURNcKYDIDWE/s1600/monster-rehab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgXgziifDHLub0XUPEd9FuxtjxFXJ83Ct9HZrhhejvn0dQi3kduVx_FckFhD-vEqUQhxKBMbWM080KRAIjWrAwdc6xYMCy8n0jYZciIx2B7h-wnW4ZGhrXJCHHOopoMXFjURNcKYDIDWE/s320/monster-rehab.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
I said no, no, no...</h4>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I'm addicted to Rehab. That sounds a lot funnier than it really is, but I'm comfortable with that. It all started this summer when I was reffing roller derby a lot (I'm up to over 60 bouts reffed, by the way!). Imagine this scenario. You had a great time on a Friday night with friends, eating lousy bar food and drinking a bit more than your fair share (and your fair share, and yours, and yours). But you have to be at the derby bout at 1 in the afternoon the next day to ref a double header, and you KNOW that's not enough time to get normal again. After all, you're not twenty anymore. You can't just go and treat your own body like its yours and it'll do whatever you want. So you wake up bleary eyed, hung over, headachey, and your stomach seems to want to reject any possibility of solidity. You get dressed, shower, realize your mistake, take off your now wet clothes, shower again, and get ready for the bout. By 12:30 you're still feeling a tad south of miserable. You go to a gas station... You buy a Rehab... and boom. Like a shot of pure, cold, tea flavored youth you instantly feel light years better. You're focused, ready for the day, and to complete the cycle, after the bouts you do it ALL OVER AGAIN. This stuff is magic. And holy christwagons on a taco plane IT COMES IN FOUR FLAVORS! Honestly, I can't remember an elixir that fixed a broken human better than this. Except for that stuff in <em>Reanimator. </em>That shit was probably Rehab too...</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuAUwaOTakWgsiG3cKghJeFfGy8NpU_atmUzRlhBvYMQfKruVfG4NTrsZ1ev7OZ8Q1sXPGmj8pvL-7pXVB734Wd1nG4kJMJ564Nq3Zw9u2_YdpXWSVspWstYLbuN2d_IT8UTJmxIu1m7U/s1600/Re-Animator01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuAUwaOTakWgsiG3cKghJeFfGy8NpU_atmUzRlhBvYMQfKruVfG4NTrsZ1ev7OZ8Q1sXPGmj8pvL-7pXVB734Wd1nG4kJMJ564Nq3Zw9u2_YdpXWSVspWstYLbuN2d_IT8UTJmxIu1m7U/s320/Re-Animator01.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
Green tea flavored rehab should bring this head back from the dead... I am very well adjusted...</h4>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Also, I live with my friend as a roommate now. He is a computer programming night owl, so I am forced... FORCED I tell you... to watch star trek DS9 well into the wee hours. Rehab works for that, too. Very well indeed. I still drink coffee like a motherbitch though.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
So what else is new... Oh yeah...</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVB_veqQyBw05fsNSq9mbpwRSKqqiieUiprdZnCZu7YXiNDd3yXxqDYLyFfMxw-gIHHovLwj8gVNhZnBydkvwLAEeVU90nhy8BToaUq6pFmsOaxf1J4EevKIel37zyBXk57Ky4By_9uZU/s1600/Female-Bed-bug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVB_veqQyBw05fsNSq9mbpwRSKqqiieUiprdZnCZu7YXiNDd3yXxqDYLyFfMxw-gIHHovLwj8gVNhZnBydkvwLAEeVU90nhy8BToaUq6pFmsOaxf1J4EevKIel37zyBXk57Ky4By_9uZU/s320/Female-Bed-bug.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
These guys... THESE FUCKING GUYS...</h4>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Fuck bed bugs. Fuck them in their little fucking fuckfaces. I don't want any species to be eliminated from the planet (even Tea Partiers) but THESE fuckers can fucking die in a fire. If I have to shoot each one of them with a god damn bazooka I will with a great big grin on my face and I'll pay for all the ammunition. I don't know exactly how they got in to my apartment, but I have my suspicions...</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I had been letting a cat stay in my apartment for a couple of months. She will go in and out at her leisure. I think she picked up some eggs (you know its bad when they breed like fucking lizard chicken demons) from a couch or chair someone threw out and she napped on. I didn't know I had them til my girlfriend spent the night and got bit almost fifty times...</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I'll let that sink in. I didn't know I had them. I don't react to their bites. My girlfriend got bit fifty times in a night. How long had they been feeding on my delicious blood? I'm guessing that there's a family of a couple of hundred people that would have been saved if I had donated that blood rather than let it be harvested by evil fucking Satan's dingleberries. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Naturally I reacted calmly and rationally... Ok. I freaked out. I've moved, bombed all my stuff, got rid of most of my furniture, poisoned every inch of my bed, vacuumed my mattress and washed all my clothes (ALL of them) in hot water and dried them on high for at least an hour. All told, I have no clue how much money I've spent trying to eliminate these little antipodean specks of ass chunks from my life. Now I'm going to tell you some of their little awful habits... the best way to kill something is to know how it lives (you hear me, potential serial killers?).</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
First they shit little black smears. That's how you know you have them if you don't see them in person. Of course, the fecal smears look like mold, so you never know for certain, so the appropriate reaction is to set whatever it is you suspect on fire and listen to them scream. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Next, they live in solitary colonies. They don't like living near each other, but have to preserve their space. So they live in tiny little clusters of individuals that hate. I saw a couple of those colonies on my box springs. So my reaction was to set them on fire and listen to them scream.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Finally, they are very flat, so they can live in very thin areas... like the hems of clothes... or the folds in a mattress... or behind your eyes. The solution? Fire. Screams.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
To this very day I can't get a good nights sleep (it's been almost two months) without waking up every time a hair on my arm moves. I slap at nothing even though I've moved to a new place and taken great steps to eliminate any animals from my person except for my cats, and they're getting me suspicious. I do also live with one of my best friends now, who put up with my massacre with great aplomb...</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha54U6WK11WD4Zlgo52lESYhau0QVbxExsOqHqu-ijLKrU0qUvWpVYYPWncp850HOjcQbB8HWxfPjLuStiWbgByXNhzR8_8JRekUQGaWXD-bpxqwl-RAj-Dp-2aI6acSBs9lWELypdZcw/s1600/abln.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha54U6WK11WD4Zlgo52lESYhau0QVbxExsOqHqu-ijLKrU0qUvWpVYYPWncp850HOjcQbB8HWxfPjLuStiWbgByXNhzR8_8JRekUQGaWXD-bpxqwl-RAj-Dp-2aI6acSBs9lWELypdZcw/s320/abln.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<h4 class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
And not a bit of absurdity...</h4>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Also... The coolest thing! I've changed my emphasis in my biology degree...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJRl9S0L9k3SySbnjdGWCZogu5iMXZAGaYQNFvbA4Y28BH9xHLTkiOf0BUgrQoMGVVA-tN7WeFJOsJU1_NlIVp5HJZol0qRqEg-MprELcHWpeltBvJxE46C7Srnv7r30DVKbDccHb3M3o/s1600/6492712-forensic-expert-collecting-evidence-at-the-crime-scene-of-a-murdered-businessman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJRl9S0L9k3SySbnjdGWCZogu5iMXZAGaYQNFvbA4Y28BH9xHLTkiOf0BUgrQoMGVVA-tN7WeFJOsJU1_NlIVp5HJZol0qRqEg-MprELcHWpeltBvJxE46C7Srnv7r30DVKbDccHb3M3o/s320/6492712-forensic-expert-collecting-evidence-at-the-crime-scene-of-a-murdered-businessman.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<h4 class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Finally my hobby of playing with dead people will actually PAY!</h4>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm going in to forensic science! What? Oh, for the sake of fuck, I KNOW that CSI isn't an accurate representation of the job. But Here's the deal. I have some criteria for a job that I would enjoy doing for the rest of my life...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
1. I want a job that not a lot of other people can do for whatever reason.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
2. I don't mind gore.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
3. I want a career before I'm fucking 40 years old.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
4. I want to deal with the sciences.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
5. I like solving puzzles.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Find another job that fits those criteria. I dare ya. I've talked a lot to some specialists in this field and they've said that the worst part of the job is the smell of rotting corpses. They say that they keep a change of clothes in their offices at all times because you never know when you'll bring that smell home with you. That's the only thing I'm worried about. But it's exciting! The mere fact of being able to do a job like this makes me smile through the blood and gore. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Anyway... That's me since we last met. How are you?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Song of teh post: Rehab, by Amy Winehouse</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Forensic research interest of teh week of teh post: Sharp force trauma wound patterns (stab wounds)</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-48514551855177557072012-08-10T14:17:00.000-06:002012-08-10T14:22:01.089-06:00What a privilege!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVWj_FHdj_miBz0N7MKzJjxgUiGZJFSMG4sQQlaMoBvKR-EmBdm_HkF2F-ylIiHpZ-OCFalmT5hAFydezm64LlE7m6Dt6XUnv2nGpN_qkrWxSNKDUfIAPap1G4NIo_VE7BItT7YqeWocM/s1600/5052531-closeup-of-a-surprised-young-man-looking-at-camera-isolated-over-white-background.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVWj_FHdj_miBz0N7MKzJjxgUiGZJFSMG4sQQlaMoBvKR-EmBdm_HkF2F-ylIiHpZ-OCFalmT5hAFydezm64LlE7m6Dt6XUnv2nGpN_qkrWxSNKDUfIAPap1G4NIo_VE7BItT7YqeWocM/s320/5052531-closeup-of-a-surprised-young-man-looking-at-camera-isolated-over-white-background.jpg" width="297" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Congratulations! You've finally
realized that you have privilege! You, as a straight, white male in
the "Western" world have been blissfully immune to the
things that people who aren't like you, people who are different,
people like, I don't know, the rest of the human experience, go
through on a regular basis. You've realized that because you're a
man, you can't remotely begin to realize how a woman feels when
you're walking thirty yards behind her with no ill intentions and she
starts to speed up or goes into a better lit area. You've realized
you can not begin to imagine the nerves it takes for a gay person (or
heaven forbid a trans person!) to trust people enough to come out to
them if they're semi-closeted. You realize that when you're pulled
over by a cop, you are much more likely to get off with a ticket or
warning, whereas if you were black or hispanic you'd have a much
higher chance of having your car searched. You know that, all things
equal, you're gonna earn more money than anyone doing the exact same
job over a lifetime if they're female... or a racial minority... or
of a different sexual orientation than you.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Welcome to the real sociopolitical world!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
How did this happen? How did you come
to realize this? Was it the coworker problem? That does it for a lot
of people. Some random rape joke got you thinking, or someone calling
someone else a 'fag' when they do something not 'manly?' Did the
ability of them to make these jokes with impunity make you feel
kinda... wrong? Maybe it was a friend that has realized these things
and heard jokes like that and politely removed himself from the
conversation. That guy that doesn't think that rape jokes or
derogatory language describing everything not straight, white and
male are acceptable and actually tries to tell people that these
things are not funny, and may actually hurt people... did you call
him 'gay' after he left a conversation, or question his masculinity?
Hey, it's ok. Because you realized NOW that he may have a point, you
feel kinda bad about it. Go back to him and talk to him. He's an
enlightened brother, right there.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And what is privilege? You're kinda
realizing that it's something that's intangible but has real
consequences. It can affect everyone in a negative way... including
YOU. How does your own privilege hurt you? Simple. Those things you
pointed out to justify how you used to think there is no privilege...
Yeah, those. How? That's complex. Lets say that the old chestnut of
"Women get custody of children and men get to pay alimony and
child support way more often" is one of your old excuses. Ask
yourself. What is the reason for this? The reason isn't because the
system hates straight white men. It's the attitudes of modern
masculinity... the things that you used to think were infallible...
that make this happen! Men are the providers. Women are the
caretakers. This is basic, entry level modern masculinity in the
United States. This attitude may go against you in this situation,
but hey... you're making 25% more money in a lifetime! And women not
only make less, but they also have to take care of children. This is
a logical extension of the masculinity/femininity dichotomy that you
used to think was right!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
How about "These people just got
promoted/accepted into school/this that or the other because they're
black!"? Lets take a minute and do some thinking. Take a poor
black child who is trying to get into college. This kid has great
grades, extracurricular activities, the lot. But the kid can't afford
to take the SATs more than once. The kid studies hard, nights,
weekends, and gets 1900 on the test! Awesome! Now take the well off
white child. Same grades, same activities, but the kid can take the
test four times in a year because the parents are paying for it. The
best score the white kid gets? 2000. Based on just the scores, the
2000 is the clear choice. No scholarship for the black kid. This is
why we have programs that help people from lower incomes, who are
usually racial minorities! The black kid needs more financial help
than the white kid, but may be naturally a better student BECAUSE
that child had to work so hard! By the way, I never mentioned the
kid's gender. You thought about male children, didn't you? Yeah, I
thought so.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Or maybe "Men get sexually
assaulted by women too! It just never gets known about!"
Recall... what did you used to call men who turned down sex from any
woman, much less complain about having sex when they didn't want to?
Yeah... that's part of this masculine thing too. It's got a name, by
the way... You're not gonna like it... The name is...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5XcBeeD2sV6ppbelCFBdPRttSM_FDlBh_nHSstReX885rJuNLQ-mIvYe0HkglqzihVK87dYR3QwIsGBxg901-7NjCZGcCFgIvp_EbOpvbqNCKKXq8xmRcdGwpI8NajWILbrNeOTIuVzY/s1600/patriarchy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="58" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5XcBeeD2sV6ppbelCFBdPRttSM_FDlBh_nHSstReX885rJuNLQ-mIvYe0HkglqzihVK87dYR3QwIsGBxg901-7NjCZGcCFgIvp_EbOpvbqNCKKXq8xmRcdGwpI8NajWILbrNeOTIuVzY/s320/patriarchy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b><i> (zomgNOOOO!!!!)</i></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sorry. It's true. This boogeyman of a
word sends men's rights activists into apoplectic fits, but it's
real. This attitude hurts everyone it comes into contact with. Men,
women, gay, straight, black, white, hispanic, anything... I know. It
seems kind of immense and terrifying.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So what can we do about it?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well... Lots! Start off by getting
involved in your own mind. Stop making rape or minority or gay jokes.
Start thinking that they aren't really that funny... because they're
not. You're going to have some road blocks. It's natural. Its gonna
help when you start listening to what people are saying. Remember...
oppression can't be defined by the oppressor, only the oppressed.
Listen to complaints, grievances, and angry rants. This isn't tough
to get. Stop blaming victims of crimes for the crimes. Be happy when
you see programs that help people (even with your greatly appreciated
tax dollars). Realize that people can wear what they want when they
want and have the right to not be sexually assaulted. And don't worry. Realizing
that you have the privilege doesn't mean you're a bad person. You
have a bonus in life! It's like playing a new videogame on the
easiest setting. The only thing you have to realize is that others
don't have it on the same setting. Sometimes people get tougher lots
in life. What you can do is realize this, and fight for people who
don't have it as privileged as you. Listen, think, and help! Being
open to the lives of others is going to make YOU a better, happier
person! You're not a bad person for having privilege, you'd be a bad
person for not recognizing it!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So go forth! Enjoy life with the
knowledge that you're gonna make a difference by merely being a human
being with empathy, if not sympathy!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And who knows? Maybe you'll be the guy
who walks away from a chauvinistic/racist/queer-bashing conversation
and makes another straight white male think about why.</div>Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-42475936387047744742012-06-18T14:20:00.001-06:002012-06-18T14:35:54.605-06:00A breakdown of the Post-Nihilist appeal of Modern Era Slapstick Humor (Or why I love Jackass)...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtTAz7obRr1N6VSa_a1SjfEYs5taac-xZIt3mQQ9ZOTRBucMa1w7SnqfYvZlF4fR97TD1Z4i-gKrIJgPFBEou9U1nlCkGfC926xtM2mycaA674_FDKDDpWJnJB5R1i5kYtg6ZER3Sp0U/s1600/jackass-3d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtTAz7obRr1N6VSa_a1SjfEYs5taac-xZIt3mQQ9ZOTRBucMa1w7SnqfYvZlF4fR97TD1Z4i-gKrIJgPFBEou9U1nlCkGfC926xtM2mycaA674_FDKDDpWJnJB5R1i5kYtg6ZER3Sp0U/s320/jackass-3d.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I like Jackass. I like the humor. I've gone out of my way to watch movies with Johnny Knoxville in them. I've gone to see Steve-O in person... Here! Look! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8EWP3X2kpz42A9kNFDmuC76vTjk9DgO5o_psSwZSf_p7YX3-JFVxp_iRcAUZHVdXJq2PVW4JnTw1f9AVTf6BjeXdztWbIYp1MKNn7UnJeI9D5WNAT8w2dBhR7yo3LyGmWzpJvfFkoz8g/s1600/556550_4086747658008_1846700778_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8EWP3X2kpz42A9kNFDmuC76vTjk9DgO5o_psSwZSf_p7YX3-JFVxp_iRcAUZHVdXJq2PVW4JnTw1f9AVTf6BjeXdztWbIYp1MKNn7UnJeI9D5WNAT8w2dBhR7yo3LyGmWzpJvfFkoz8g/s320/556550_4086747658008_1846700778_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<i>(edited to keep my girlfriend out of this absurdity) </i><br />
<br />
I'm also reasonably intelligent. This causes a cognitive dissonance in some people. "How can you like that stupidity?!?!" they scream. "It's just idiots hurting each other and looking like complete douche bags!"<br />
<br />
To that I have the following to say...<br />
<br />
Eat a bag of dicks. I got philosophy on my side. <br />
<br />
<b><i>The Three Groups of Humor. (A brief explanation)</i></b><br />
<i>1. Incongruity</i><br />
The presiding theory of humor is expounded by philosophers like Kant and Kierkegaard. In this group, humor is a response to incongruity; a term that can encompass logical impossibility, ambiguity, irrelevance and inappropriateness. This is a theory of humor that only proposes the origin of humor, not of the reaction of the humor by the experiencer. In essence, an incongruous situation naturally leads to humor. “In everything that is to excite a lively laugh there must be something
absurd (in which the understanding, therefore, can find no
satisfaction). Laughter is an affection arising from the sudden
transformation of a strained expectation into nothing”(Kant).<br />
<br />
Schopenhauer expanded on this, implying the failure of a concept to account for an object of thought, and this leads to the base incongruity needed for the theory. However, he fails to account for anticipation (dramatic and otherwise) of a humorous instance, insisting that the suddenness of the incongruity is directly related to the harder the laughter, (this tension/release mechanism is the basis of relief theory... more on the relief theory later). Bergson (who combines incongruity with superiority theory) also postulates that "the comic does not exist outside of what is strictly human." <br />
<br />
So, incongruity theory, which states that the logical impossibility and inappropriateness of a situation is the basis for humor, when coupled with the Bergsonian idea of the essential humanity of the comic, we can see how a tee-ball to the testicles of a terrified man can be funny.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1n123mazhyphenhyphenHtI9JoHuQLxdURF1gMCEf0RDCiMF9gZm1H1beCLdjfycthbbZzVnYujNrR8R6I_nxf-j9UkQTN5pM2poFmQNMyHi74QyWogS26_y9KXf8WvNLBPKsWCUiiAtlhSqbdffmU/s1600/tee-ball-jackass-3d-animated.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1n123mazhyphenhyphenHtI9JoHuQLxdURF1gMCEf0RDCiMF9gZm1H1beCLdjfycthbbZzVnYujNrR8R6I_nxf-j9UkQTN5pM2poFmQNMyHi74QyWogS26_y9KXf8WvNLBPKsWCUiiAtlhSqbdffmU/s1600/tee-ball-jackass-3d-animated.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<i>2. Superiority </i><br />
Thomas Hobbes recognized our feeling of sudden glory when we realize our superiority over others, and applied it to comedic theory. The cliched laugh of triumph is a sterling example of this idea. We are better than the other, ergo we find situations humorous. This is a style of comedy that people like Ben Stiller specialize in, if only in the emotional and psychological sense. <br />
<br />
However, <i>inferiority</i> theory is the exact opposite, but is included in the superiority category. In this idea, self-recognition in the antics and self-deprecation of the comic induce laughter. We identify with the comic's inadequacies, therefore we laugh to relieve the internal tension. This reversal is not a bad thing, however. Robert Soloman insists that to see yourself as less than ideal and to not take yourself too seriously is a sign of virtuous modesty and compassion.<br />
<br />
These opposing ideas are sufficient, yet not necessary components of humor. Incongruity can be seen as a wider net, providing a both necessary and sufficient origin for comedy, and as an adendum, superiority/inferiority theories can be tacked on. So... The logical impossibility/inappropriateness of a situation, the Bergsonian idea of essential humanity, and the combined superiority ('I am smarter/more aware than these people')/inferiority ('I have done stupid things to myself before') theories lead to the viewing of someone shoving a toy car up their ass as being a humorous situation.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvhB0IrrvO1r0P1z_nTI9sBEFF_Cdh3YfESoem0zQrtoaj3skuK7yXdoWoJ05ngOCBU-zcDsjmj8OjDc5XqWhx-vPJp6yru95E1MgZHZqreGHt8sOxUcuXAnAZ-BKTe4M3WC85OsHjos/s1600/toycar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvhB0IrrvO1r0P1z_nTI9sBEFF_Cdh3YfESoem0zQrtoaj3skuK7yXdoWoJ05ngOCBU-zcDsjmj8OjDc5XqWhx-vPJp6yru95E1MgZHZqreGHt8sOxUcuXAnAZ-BKTe4M3WC85OsHjos/s320/toycar.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<i>3. Relief</i><br />
<br />
Relief theory is probably the simplest one of the three, albeit it explains only the laughter, not the humorousness of a situation. In it, laughter is seen as a way to release or expunge energy generated by repression. Freud and, more importantly, Herbert Spencer, describe this theory, but both miss the central point of non-humorous laughter. These nervous chuckles beget a physiological response to a stressful situation, which may actually be the origin of humor itself. Imagine a distant relative of humans, who in a stressful situation, such as being watched by a predator, releases their stress as a physical enunciation, a convulsion of the glottis in short barking noises. This relaxes the creature, and may in fact continue after the threat has passed. Now imagine that some creature figured out that it could get this same relaxing feeling when it watched some other creature trip or stumble. This may have been evolutionarily beneficial, which leads us to enjoy laughter. This is all hypothesis of course, but the mechanism is still plausible.<br />
<br />
If we can expand, anticipation of something happening to someone else leads to a release of tension when the something actually happens. A little microcosm of natural stress building, which can relieve more than it anticipates. <br />
<br />
So logical impossibility/inappropriateness, essential humanity, superiority/inferiority theory, and physical/emotional release of tension leads us to appreciate a man getting shot with a shotgun loaded with a tail stabilized bean bag.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeUYrkY9aQb0MX_NxecYLdSB-z-tGK0SHUMgkYnXOue4nwVHADHCR0yx0mN4FkZZGsADHojLiuK4yGmZesRRP3TGXp7QEDJh2bk7fXcMbKF5pLfVJPXjt5aHYv1BG5FXfg_1sYPhcix8/s1600/tumblr_le1j5xh4rz1qf4k6uo1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeUYrkY9aQb0MX_NxecYLdSB-z-tGK0SHUMgkYnXOue4nwVHADHCR0yx0mN4FkZZGsADHojLiuK4yGmZesRRP3TGXp7QEDJh2bk7fXcMbKF5pLfVJPXjt5aHYv1BG5FXfg_1sYPhcix8/s320/tumblr_le1j5xh4rz1qf4k6uo1_500.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
In essence, Jackass encompasses all theories of humor.<br />
<br />
And if I might make some personal observations... Jackass is the essence of humor. It is the punchline without any joke. It is the witnessing of something stupid done by people who do, in fact, know better. If we all appreciated Jackass for what it is; low humor, base comedy, simple irony, and useless fun, we can grow to appreciate humor more. Perhaps digging a little deeper and asking ourselves WHY we find things funny. I, for one, fail to see any humor in Wes Anderson movies, even though they technically fulfill some of the sufficient qualities of humor. However, watching a guy get his nipple bitten by a baby alligator... gets me every time...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqhV7kDct6m2j3jWCETMi2DN7AyH6o5WwojERnXBrl7eM3uSMZ598Iadm4jSk5wYVb-3JX77JxZYAcFgPzzGKrrusAaUm7dV5TP35ybc7kII6YFINQdY-VlURQhSe8nqnUDnwBWlQIaCo/s1600/johnny_knoxville.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqhV7kDct6m2j3jWCETMi2DN7AyH6o5WwojERnXBrl7eM3uSMZ598Iadm4jSk5wYVb-3JX77JxZYAcFgPzzGKrrusAaUm7dV5TP35ybc7kII6YFINQdY-VlURQhSe8nqnUDnwBWlQIaCo/s320/johnny_knoxville.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
After all... What is evolution, anyway? In every way but biologically it's the honing of a message, the crafting of an idea. The idea of slapstick comedy comes to no finer point than that of Jackass. However, anylyzing humor is like dissecting a frog, according to E. B. White. Nobody really gets anything out of it and the frog dies. And yes, I'm well aware that I'm using philosophical justification to justify something that I freely admit has no philosophical, social, or cultural merit... Just trying to shut people up and get them to laugh...Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-85072191063779010872012-04-27T10:49:00.000-06:002012-04-27T10:51:48.287-06:00Literally the bible... Part 4 (dammit, I'm bored at work, OK?!)<span class="text Gen-4-1"> Genesis CH4... in which there is sex AND violence!</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3kutInv1EPA6ObEQu-gHlKJ646inDs1_T_n9RBqJDznwBXJ6p9GTRPtDZJfglL7NITnoVVFst4TYVWxTjgpZ1VyMS9zIEcrm1aNYt_2iJMh_lBanfcpi2RoXRLFykNM9Gpfc0Kbmr3kk/s1600/rman1284l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3kutInv1EPA6ObEQu-gHlKJ646inDs1_T_n9RBqJDznwBXJ6p9GTRPtDZJfglL7NITnoVVFst4TYVWxTjgpZ1VyMS9zIEcrm1aNYt_2iJMh_lBanfcpi2RoXRLFykNM9Gpfc0Kbmr3kk/s320/rman1284l.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-1">1 Adam<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-81a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]"></sup> made love to his wife Eve, and she became pregnant and gave birth to Cain. She said, “With the help of the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> I have brought forth<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-81c" title="See footnote c">c</a>]"></sup> a man.” </span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-1"><i>Bow chicka wow wow! I'm actually surprised it took this long to get to some sex. And by the way, just because she screamed "Oh God!" doesn't mean that the lord helped. Moving on...</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-1"><i> </i></span><span class="text Gen-4-2" id="en-NIV-82">2 Later she gave birth to his brother Abel.</span><span class="text Gen-4-2"> Now Abel kept flocks, and Cain worked the soil.</span><span class="text Gen-4-2" id="en-NIV-82"> </span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-2" id="en-NIV-82"><i>As a side note, another human was made. Typical first child/second child dynamic ensues.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-3" id="en-NIV-83">3 In the course of time Cain brought some of the fruits of the soil as an offering to the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>.</span><span class="text Gen-4-2" id="en-NIV-82"><i> </i></span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-2" id="en-NIV-82"><i>And the fruits were of the nature of pizza, and the lord saw that it wasn't very good pizza, and doomed Cain to a failed presidential campaign in AD 2011.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-2" id="en-NIV-82">4 </span><span class="text Gen-4-4" id="en-NIV-84">And Abel also brought an offering—fat portions from some of the firstborn of his flock. The <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> looked with favor on Abel and his offering,</span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-4" id="en-NIV-84"><i>So god preferred the meat and looked glancingly on the veggies. Typical American male. OMG... IT'S ACTUALLY TRUE THEN!!!!!</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-4" id="en-NIV-84">5 </span><span class="text Gen-4-5" id="en-NIV-85">but on Cain and his offering he did not look with favor. So Cain was very angry, and his face was downcast.</span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-5" id="en-NIV-85"><i>I would be too! If god's not careful then he'll get some serious arteriosclerosis.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-5" id="en-NIV-85">6 </span><span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86">Then the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> said to Cain, “Why are you angry? Why is your face downcast?</span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i>"Well I just spent all my time tilling the soil that you doomed us to till at the sweat of my brow. My brother got to watch animals do it and killed some random baby animals that couldn't run away. What does that say about us?" And the lord said... "Work smarter, not harder."</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86">7</span><span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i> </i></span>If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you must rule over it. ”<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i> </i></span><span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i> </i></span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i>Um... This makes no sense. You sneered at his salad and lauded the meat! You really are a typical American male.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86">8 </span><sup class="versenum"> </sup>Now Cain said to his brother Abel, “Let’s go out to the field.” While they were in the field, Cain attacked his brother Abel and killed him.<br />
<i>Ok... that is overreacting a bit. I bet god is gonna smite this guy down with all the force of the heavenly hosts and destroy everything that Cain ever did, does, or thought! This is gonna be fun!</i><br />
<br />
9 <span class="text Gen-4-9">Then the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> said to Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?” “I don’t know, ” he replied. “Am I my brother’s keeper?”</span><br />
<i>Here it comes... Here comes the smiting that will make Fred Phelps spontaneously ejaculate...</i><br />
<br />
10<span class="text Gen-4-10" id="en-NIV-90"> The <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> said, “What have you done? Listen! Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground.</span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"></span><span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i>And Cain tore up the floor boards and said "here! Here is my brother's heart!" - Oh wait... wrong story.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86">11 </span><span class="text Gen-4-11" id="en-NIV-91">Now you are under a curse and driven from the ground, which opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand.</span><span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"> </span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i>Ok... that's not so bad, but I bet the smiting is coming! Ooooh, excited!</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86">12</span> When you work the ground, it will no longer yield its crops for you. You will be a restless wanderer on the earth. ”<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"> </span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i>Well... this sucks for him! Um... I'm sure it's gonna get worse! Until someone invents the twinkie.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86">13 </span><span class="text Gen-4-13" id="en-NIV-93">Cain said to the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>, “My punishment is more than I can bear.</span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-13" id="en-NIV-93"><i>Oh pony up and deal.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-13" id="en-NIV-93">14 </span>Today you are driving me from the land, and I will be hidden from your presence; I will be a restless wanderer on the earth, and whoever finds me will kill me.” <span class="text Gen-4-13" id="en-NIV-93"> </span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-13" id="en-NIV-93"><i>In great BLOODY MASSES OF TORN FLESH AND SINEW!!! BLOOD WILL SPURT FROM HIS SLICED THROAT AND...</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-13" id="en-NIV-93">15 </span><span class="text Gen-4-15" id="en-NIV-95">But the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> said to him, “Not so<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-95e" title="See footnote e">e</a>]"></sup>; anyone who kills Cain will suffer vengeance seven times over. ” Then the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> put a mark on Cain so that no one who found him would kill him.</span><span class="text Gen-4-13" id="en-NIV-93"><i> </i> </span><span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i> </i></span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i>... So... His punishment is to live forever? Wow... Ok... I guess that would suck. If you don't have hobbies... Um... wow. Way to be anti-climactic, there, Yaweh.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86">16</span><span class="text Gen-4-16" id="en-NIV-96"> So Cain went out from the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>’s presence and lived in the land of Nod,<sup> </sup>east of Eden.</span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-16" id="en-NIV-96"><i>He nodded off, then? (ba-dum- TSHHH!)</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-16" id="en-NIV-96">17 </span><span class="text Gen-4-17" id="en-NIV-97"><sup class="versenum"></sup>Cain made love to his wife, and she became pregnant and gave birth to Enoch. Cain was then building a city, and he named it after his son Enoch.</span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-17" id="en-NIV-97"><i>WOAH WOAH WOAH! STOP RIGHT THERE! FLAG ON THE PLAY! Where did SHE come from!? And how does a man build a city?! And for WHAT?! His wife and kid?! Two minutes, one for Out of bounds blocking and one for misconduct!</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-17" id="en-NIV-97">18 </span><span class="text Gen-4-18" id="en-NIV-98">To Enoch was born Irad, and
Irad was the father of Mehujael, and Mehujael was the father of
Methushael, and Methushael was the father of Lamech.</span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-18" id="en-NIV-98"><i>That's a lot of not-mentioned-like-at-all-never-ever women to have kids with. Unless they were his siters. So... logical extrapolation... Oh man, they were doing their SISTERS! EW! If we can't do that even in modern West Virginia, then THEY shouldn't be able to do that either!</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-18" id="en-NIV-98">19</span><span class="text Gen-4-19" id="en-NIV-99"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>Lamech married two women, one named Adah and the other Zillah.</span><span class="text Gen-4-18" id="en-NIV-98"> <i> </i></span><span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i></i></span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i>Going from Adah to Zillah like a killah!</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86">20 </span>Adah gave birth to Jabal; he was the father of those who live in tents and raise livestock.<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"> </span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i>So... he wasn't the father of the people who lived in bungalows and raised cats?</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86">21 </span>His brother’s name was Jubal; he was the father of all who play stringed instruments and pipes<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i>So, the first musician. No wonder he got laid so much!</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86">22 </span><span class="text Gen-4-22" id="en-NIV-102">Zillah also had a son, Tubal-Cain, who forged all kinds of tools out of bronze and iron. Tubal-Cain’s sister was Naamah.</span><span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"> </span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"><i>Come on down to Tubal-Cain house of forged bronze and iron. Here you will find the lowest prices on the highest quality spear heads... trinkets... shiny things... and knick knacks around. Or my naim isn't Tubal-Cain.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86">23 </span><span class="text Gen-4-23" id="en-NIV-103"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>Lamech said to his wives,</span><br />
<div class="poetry top-05">
<div class="line">
<span class="text Gen-4-23">“Adah and Zillah, listen to me;</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Gen-4-23">wives of Lamech, hear my words.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Gen-4-23">I have killed a man for wounding me,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Gen-4-23">a young man for injuring me.</span></span></div>
<div class="line">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Gen-4-23"><i>Wait... Lamech killed someone else, too!? This whole species is terribly violent against its own members for some seriously minor differences in opinion- OH HOLY CRAP IT'S ALL TRUE!</i></span></span></div>
<div class="line">
<br /></div>
<div class="line">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Gen-4-23">24 </span></span><span class="text Gen-4-24" id="en-NIV-104">If Cain is avenged seven times, </span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Gen-4-24">then Lamech seventy-seven times. ”</span></span></div>
<div class="line">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Gen-4-24"><i>So if Cain lives forever I live seventy seven times forever! Bah! Woe is me! At least I have my watercolors...</i></span></span></div>
<div class="line">
<br /></div>
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Gen-4-24">25 </span></span>Adam made love to his wife again, and she gave birth to a son and named him Seth, saying, “God has granted me another child in place of Abel, since Cain killed him.”<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Gen-4-24"><i> </i></span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Gen-4-24"><i>Ok... First, this is gonna make family reunions really awkward. Second, How will Jabal and Tubal-Cain deal with having a great-great-great-uncle that's younger than them? Unless time has no real temporal meaning and is an abstract... Dammit. I suppose it is. Well played, Einstein... well played.</i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Gen-4-24">26 </span></span><span class="text Gen-4-26">Seth also had a son, and he named him Enosh. At that time people began to call on the name of the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>. </span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Gen-4-24"><i> And there was no more boring genealogy in the bible ever!</i></span></span><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Gen-4-23"></span></span><span class="text Gen-4-6" id="en-NIV-86"></span><span class="text Gen-4-2" id="en-NIV-82"><i></i></span></div>Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-2401120360863427332012-03-07T19:11:00.004-06:002012-03-07T19:32:43.243-06:00Ashley's Haiku Challenge, 2012<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ8id5tzOcUemdMDbS672wMpx4DLV1wuhxcEzqANztrGijsq2fMz-pvJCyLtZU9TVnrylg_rzq9F8q2Oi7J5mFKEM1lQqYKNNh4brV1gMTD5ChZHg3vkMy_zE5FR-EB1iF92kpDiIfquM/s1600/1273027_sights_of_kyoto_4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ8id5tzOcUemdMDbS672wMpx4DLV1wuhxcEzqANztrGijsq2fMz-pvJCyLtZU9TVnrylg_rzq9F8q2Oi7J5mFKEM1lQqYKNNh4brV1gMTD5ChZHg3vkMy_zE5FR-EB1iF92kpDiIfquM/s400/1273027_sights_of_kyoto_4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717332670690251458" border="0" /></a><br />Ok, here's the deal. I'm sitting beside the lovely, talented, amazing, and beautifully excellent Ashley and she's chastising me for not updating my blog. She said that she'd love me more if I updated more often (or at least it'll be like "extra credit"). This is not a guarantee, mind you... just a suggestion...<br /><br />Anyway... She's gonna give me topics until she's bored and I will write a haiku about them one at a time. I will time myself, as well. No animals will be harmed in the making of this absurdity, although some cats will be offended...<br /><br />Ok, it's currently 8:14... GO!<br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Topic: Liederhosen</span><br /><br />Oh, odd German pant<br />Your suspenders call to me...<br />I'm glad I'm Swedish.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Topic: Ahnold</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br />The Terminator...<br />Let me be the first to say<br />WAAAUGH AAAAUAAAGGGH GAAAUU to you.<br /><br />That was totally not cheating, by the way.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Topic: Aliens</span><br /><br />Big, almond-eyed freaks<br />with your lanky bodies... Still...<br />I would so tap that.<br /><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Topic: Swamp loggers</span><br /><br />Swamp loggers, you and<br />Ice road truckers have made a<br />good channel go bad.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Topic: Ernest Hemmingway</span><br /><br />The Old Man, The Sea<br />I mourn your loss constantly<br />I drink a lot, too.<br /><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Topic: Pimento cheese</span><br /><br />WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?<br />SERIOUSLY! WHAT IS THAT?<br />WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Topic: Mud butt</span><br /><br />I would do this one<br />but I'm more worried about<br />my girlfriend's brain meats.<br /><br />But seriously...<br />Get it? Butt seriously!<br />I said butt... heh heh...<br /><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Topic: Daniel Glorioso</span><br /><br />They say they've no souls<br />But I beg to differ, here.<br />This guy is hell bound.<br /><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Topic: 80's hair metal</span><br /><br />Shout at the devil<br />or at least the hairdresser<br />that gave you that cut.<br /><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Topic: Fluffing</span><br /><br />You know what this is.<br />Guess where I met my girlfriend?<br />Ha ha ha ha ha!<br /><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Topic: Erectile dysfunction</span><br /><br />Leave it to her to<br />put the "fun" in dysfunction!<br />I cry bitter tears...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Topic: Batman</span><br /><br />Gotham's dark knight has<br />some unresolved personal<br />issues to deal with.<br /><br />He is clearly a<br />over-compensator with<br />Christ-like delusions<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Topic: Ted Bundy</span><br /><br />Could you help me with<br />these books? They are quite heavy.<br />What tire iron?<br /></div><br />Time: 8:27.<br /><br />Booyeah.<br /><br />Song of teh post: The Snoop Dogg song that has the lyric "my sac on your tonsils."<br />Muse of teh post: My bb!Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-82597790334805394362012-01-01T11:15:00.004-06:002012-01-01T11:27:03.784-06:00The Story of Rufus 'Hornswagle' Capon...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGfvwUV7huCqBC6zklQAhJjBqs0Pn-yd2suLqdu8LG_oBw4tdsLZ3Jb2tMqXgZVpCsTririL-1AiEChGe5Rjy0VxbEx57LFhN9aFNpv0IwMkBAoe9hCwQbXZGeVAC5H1JQLMcgYYzzaxI/s1600/Rufus.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGfvwUV7huCqBC6zklQAhJjBqs0Pn-yd2suLqdu8LG_oBw4tdsLZ3Jb2tMqXgZVpCsTririL-1AiEChGe5Rjy0VxbEx57LFhN9aFNpv0IwMkBAoe9hCwQbXZGeVAC5H1JQLMcgYYzzaxI/s400/Rufus.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692714414533933298" /></a><br />Chapter 1: Origins<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDO4VGrBNTOTmrjkhwgjZkLLcWFprfL9FMLabpFPdzVO735TZPFSR-07zKgWQR1ONQ6KTXhS9TgtM38jRYzGAKKSSdKuDAmAi-ObvfIk60QdKWINaDtRq0_Lhy9keeiIuC5rwrNIUCCo8/s1600/1364014_heart_draw_in_the_beach_sand.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDO4VGrBNTOTmrjkhwgjZkLLcWFprfL9FMLabpFPdzVO735TZPFSR-07zKgWQR1ONQ6KTXhS9TgtM38jRYzGAKKSSdKuDAmAi-ObvfIk60QdKWINaDtRq0_Lhy9keeiIuC5rwrNIUCCo8/s400/1364014_heart_draw_in_the_beach_sand.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692714557215165202" /></a><br />Part 3: The Love of His Life<br /><br />The subject of love has always been one that Rufus has been loathe to discuss. The romances he has had in the past read like a laundry list of the who's who of international society. His love affair with Moamar Gaddafi, his trysts with Greta Van Susteren, the sex tape that surfaced of him and Michael Moore, and the torrid love triangle (more like parallelogram) between him, the Arch Diocese of Canterbury, and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir are all well documented but painful for him to discuss, as he enjoys his privacy in matters of love as much as we all do. However, what is the root of his love? Who does he pine for? Can we find out more about the man by the people he loved?<br /><br />"I'll tell you one thing," he said to us on the second day of our interviews. "I have loved many in my life, and have the scars to prove it." He then proceeded to pull of his pants and thong and show us the actual scars on his genitalia. "This one here," he said, his voice dripping with perversion and wistfulness and pointing to a triangular shaped scar at the tip of his taint, "I got when that shark got a little carried away. This one (a long, jagged scar along the side of the shaft) was when I pulled out of that combine harvester." He then went on for an hour, pointing to the scars (both physical and emotional) that he could remember. But one scar, around the base of the shaft, he carefully avoided talking about. When asked, his eyes teared up and he smiled... "That... that's my biggest regret..."<br /><br />"His name was Troy..."<br /><br />We were able to find a Troy McMacintosh in his files, but only in the form of obscure references to some form of medical procedure and the bill sent to Rufus's father. We tracked down, with some difficulty, Mr. McMacintosh and sent him an email, as he didn't seem to have an address on file. What follows is the entirety of the email conversation between the author and Mr. McMacintosh...<br />----------------------------------------<br />To: troy.mcmac@necro.gov<br />From: fiendly.grimmish@perker.com<br />Subject: Interview request...<br /><br />Mr. McMacintosh:<br />We are writing a book about Rufus Capon and wish to interview you about him. Our files indicate that you knew Mr. Capon years ago, and we are trying to find the people from his past to give us a deeper look at a complicated man. Any assistance would be appreciated!<br /><br />Thank you in advance,<br />Fiendly Grimmish.<br />-----------------------------------------<br />To: fiendly.grimmish@perker.com<br />From: troy.mcmac@necro.gov<br />Subject: Re: Interview request...<br /><br />Fuck off.<br /><br />Troy<br />------------------------------------------<br /><br />To: troy.mcmac@necro.gov<br />From: fiendly.grimmish@perker.com<br />Subject: Re: Re: Interview request...<br /><br />Mr. McMacintosh...<br /><br />We would greatly appreciate your reconsidering your answer. We are willing to compensate.<br /><br />F.G.<br />------------------------------------------------<br />To: fiendly.grimmish@perker.com<br />From: troy.mcmac@necro.gov<br />Subject: Re: Re: Re: Interview request...<br /><br />Money first, bitches. I swear, I'll unleash my second personality on you if you push me.<br /><br />Troy<br />------------------------------------------------<br />(Here followed intense negotiations regarding his fee over google chat. We settled on a fee, which Mr. Capon agreed to pay under the pretense that it was for our publisher's habit of injecting zombies (a mixture of heroin, cocaine, and Pepto Bismol) into the area between his toes.)<br />-----------------------------------------------<br />To: troy.mcmac@necro.gov<br />From: fiendly.grimmish@perker.com<br />Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Interview request...<br /><br />Our payment went through paypal. We have a few specific questions that we'd like to ask: 1. What was Rufus like when you knew him? 2. What is the story about your love affair? 3. What is the scar around the base of his penis? 4. Where do you live right now and what are you doing?<br /><br />Further questions will be asked with your cooperation.<br /><br />Thank you! <br />Fiendly Grimmish<br />------------------------------------------------<br />To: fiendly.grimmish@perker.com<br />From: troy.mcmac@necro.gov<br />Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Interview request...<br /><br />Fiendly:<br /><br />1. Rufus was insane. I've never met a man more devoted to the practice of madness and the black arts as him. I remember one time, when we were 15, of him saying he wanted to play 'doctor.' I, being a gay man, thought he was just being flirty... playing doctor was so childish! But he was insistent and, despite his acute bleeding problems and constant tooth replacement, I thought he was cute. I agreed, and he told me to meet him at his house the next day. When I got there, the entire bottom floor was white, sterile, and had medical instruments all around. I thought he was just some sort of weird medical fetishist, but I was horny and just wanted to get my end away. I laid down on the operating table. He gave me brain surgery! Without anesthesia! When I left he had drilled holes in my head because he was looking for where the thoughts lived. I have had multiple personalities ever since. My second personality is named Arthur Meatmaggot, and he scares me...<br /><br />2. Our love affair was torrid and it was all give from my end. Literally. He said he loved me, but also said that the other people he had sex with were just mistakes because he had a 'wide stance' when he went to the bathroom. I had no idea what he meant by this, but he just kept singing this silly song like 'Larry Craig, Larry Craig, tap tap tap-ee!' and he would dance around and smack his penis against musical instruments, calling it 'playing geetar with a mushroom stamp'. We had sexual relations several times, and each time was more humiliating than the last for both of us. I'll never forget the time when my second personality showed up (this happens when I'm angry or terrified, which happened often with Rufus...) and when I came to, we were both in the vegetable section of the local supermarket dressed as Jesus with radishes in very difficult to reach areas. We finally broke up when I moved, with my family, to Omaha. He said he couldn't visit me there because of 'the crickets'. I still don't know what that means.<br /><br />3. That scar is from my last visit to see Rufus. He wanted to play doctor again, and my second personality came to almost immediately. When I woke up, he had switched penises with me. Which was disappointing, because I was fairly well endowed and had no venereal diseases, and now I can't get rid of this case of genital warts which make my penis look like a porcupine. I've since learned that he got that case of warts from an actual porcupine. I'll never forgive him for that, but I must admit, having the money his family sends me to keep me from suing is a small comfort.<br /><br />4. I live in Turkmenistan and am the senior Grand High Executioner of rodentia. Please don't try to find me.<br /><br />I hope this helps. Now go away.<br /><br />Troy.<br />-----------------------------------------<br />To: troy.mcmac@necro.gov<br />From: fiendly.grimmish@perker.com<br />Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Interview request...<br /><br />Mr. McMacintosh:<br /><br />We cannot thank you enough for your information. Just as a matter of legal concern, can you prove the allegation that Rufus removed your penis?<br />------------------------------------------<br />To: fiendly.grimmish@perker.com<br />From: troy.mcmac@necro.gov<br />Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Interview request...<br /><br />I am black. Rufus is white. How the fuck can you explain a white man with a black man's penis other than that? Dumbass.<br /><br />Troy.<br /><br />P.S. Please, let's make this end soon...<br />-------------------------------------------<br />To: troy.mcmac@neco.gov<br />From: fiendly.grimmish@perker.com<br />Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Interview request...<br /><br />Thank you for your patience, Mr, McMacintosh. Just one more question. What does 'hornswagle' mean?<br /><br />Thank you again, <br /><br />F.G.<br />-------------------------------------------<br />To: fiendly.grimmish@perker.com<br />From: troy.mcmac@necro.gov<br />Subject: gUMMi sAwMILL... nECro lOVE fOr THEeR eSHT of US!<br /><br />BORKBORKBORK i am THE SWedisH cHEf! cOOkIN' uP dem HAWT POTABOS IN TEH CRAWLSPACE! (watched the ramen bleed to death... Sawmill?) cheCK oUt mah SECKs tAEp!!! I SWEAR I THOUGHT SHE WAS DEAD!?!?!? nEcRO LOve FOR tHE rEST of uS! UZBEKISTANI HAT DANCE!!!! FEEL DAT MEATHAMMER GROOVE!!!!! PUDDIN STRIP PUDDIN STRIP PUDDIN STRIP PUDDIN STRIP PUDDIN STRIP PUDDIN STRIP PUDDIN STRIP PUDDIN STRIP PUDDIN STRIP SAWMILLSAWMILLSAWMILL!! YoUeR gEttIN ThA hANg OF tHE PAYpeR wAitS! bOObIES hOLdING yER tAXes bACk! Have fun at the SAWMILLSAWMILLSAWMILL <br /><br />ThAt THInG On DA TeRKeE'sS NeKK... I'Ts DELICIOUS RAW AND COVERED IN WHARGARBLE! WhATS A WhaRgArBLE? ItS' FouND iNa SAWMILL <br /><br />VANUATU!!! ESCAPE!!! THEY'VE FOUND US!!! ALL IS LOST!!! RUN TO VANUATU!!! IMPLEMENT EVACUATION PROCEDURES NOW!!!!! VANUATU!! ALL IS LOST!!!! ThIS VeHICLe Has BeEN ChECkEd For SlEEEping ChildRENs. PlEase ReFillL ImmeDiATElY. GoinG OFF on THA DIVING BORED! Let THE JAWS COME OFF!!! nO BodY wILL bE lEFT aLIVE!!!666 666 SAWMILL SAWMILL SAWMILL! <br /><br />lOVE eND sLOppy kISSES<br /><br />ARTHru mEATMaggoT<br />-------------------------------------------<br /><br />Since the last message, we only got word of Mr. McMacintosh by way of a Turkmenistani newspaper editorial that simply said "Mr. Meatmaggot (speaking for the Grand High Executioner of rodentia) says that the squirrel of Louton is now entering the dark phase and may be seen as far as the pale horse of Owensboro. We are not aware of Mr. Meatmaggot's meaning."<br /><br />Next time: His First Business Partner...Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-76339349468978689272011-11-21T19:09:00.013-06:002011-11-21T19:45:04.838-06:00I would like to make a few things perfectly clear...This is an example of an American adult human male...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzGeMKDbiBrJ9-yDmkhYji75XgNRhGt_5IyphyphenhyphenT1GRx58jmfUr5_pF2CmNP0CXpzxPZ100sia8MLBlm_Yhp3ci8b8xtBjFdXJvAMs6m6kbfsHE1MT6xIBNTGB51wYuWuCmCJK6nNxX7S0/s1600/Adult+Male+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzGeMKDbiBrJ9-yDmkhYji75XgNRhGt_5IyphyphenhyphenT1GRx58jmfUr5_pF2CmNP0CXpzxPZ100sia8MLBlm_Yhp3ci8b8xtBjFdXJvAMs6m6kbfsHE1MT6xIBNTGB51wYuWuCmCJK6nNxX7S0/s400/Adult+Male+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677623450632678690" /></a><br />The color, variety, and specifics will vary from specimen to specimen. He has reached the age of 18 and has, by law, all rights and responsibilities endowed to him by the constitution. He can make his own legal decisions and be held responsible for his actions.<br /><br />This is an example of an American adult human female...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1wwPAwYr6iYXsisRbCGHuWDJ4wGjjhpWwgpYJm1gEb0KYgYC0o1vCUXjvFQK7aFD1JYwyil-pwNDWIRMxU823Q-VgHcxZhrCZxSepceamIwjN55C44RBhKKOm5GU-34T7l_OPVrUZ24I/s1600/stock-photo-caucasian-mid-adult-female-doctor-and-asian-chinese-mid-adult-female-physician-s-assistant-standing-3205152.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 253px; height: 371px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1wwPAwYr6iYXsisRbCGHuWDJ4wGjjhpWwgpYJm1gEb0KYgYC0o1vCUXjvFQK7aFD1JYwyil-pwNDWIRMxU823Q-VgHcxZhrCZxSepceamIwjN55C44RBhKKOm5GU-34T7l_OPVrUZ24I/s400/stock-photo-caucasian-mid-adult-female-doctor-and-asian-chinese-mid-adult-female-physician-s-assistant-standing-3205152.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677624011484710466" /></a><br />The color, variety, and specifics will vary from specimen to specimen. She has reached the age of 18 and has, by law, all rights and responsibilities endowed to her by the constitution. She can make her own legal decisions and be held responsible for her actions.<br /><br />This is an example of human children...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ZOwJMAeeKTD1EGy9WDJi7vwechQ1HPijxTWi_9BFk1B82-f7huUULD2API0jKMs7thqSKyXq5OHLoo3t8B1grPZ0CQUElxFPbLmaZEvXe5sURLs-uWbvLWE8LYkCDu0vjTftqxKoUdM/s1600/children-jump.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ZOwJMAeeKTD1EGy9WDJi7vwechQ1HPijxTWi_9BFk1B82-f7huUULD2API0jKMs7thqSKyXq5OHLoo3t8B1grPZ0CQUElxFPbLmaZEvXe5sURLs-uWbvLWE8LYkCDu0vjTftqxKoUdM/s400/children-jump.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677624442564199874" /></a><br />The color, variety, and specifics will vary from specimen to specimen. They have not reached the age of 18 and have, by law, to be legally reliant of their parent/parents/legal guardians. They have few rights and responsibilities endowed to them by the constitution. They can not make their own legal decisions, nor be held responsible for their legal actions.<br /><br />This is an example of an animal (dog)...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX2uTJqujr-QuIVLWT-MyGQiUFOjiZzulWtrALuaFXz9Ui4loRn4rA_D6v3PM1_OLh5vyslfSVgeKjE5BRHNtHqQ3WoTzvqd2qPkAJlfbm7c_H5kZL7sDSPD6hLwhj9trNHKcw5aWYAOQ/s1600/complete-dog-food.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 390px; height: 358px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX2uTJqujr-QuIVLWT-MyGQiUFOjiZzulWtrALuaFXz9Ui4loRn4rA_D6v3PM1_OLh5vyslfSVgeKjE5BRHNtHqQ3WoTzvqd2qPkAJlfbm7c_H5kZL7sDSPD6hLwhj9trNHKcw5aWYAOQ/s400/complete-dog-food.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677625050993493586" /></a><br />The color, variety, and specifics will vary from breed to breed. They are not human, and so do not receive the same rights and responsibilities endowed to humans by the constitution. They can not make their own legal decisions. They are animals, and as such have no concept of legality, which is a human invention.<br /><br />This is an example of a chair...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7qgtZxIFqNavFTubEZAepNfmKQ_FRFqtly5PaIm3Pc9qLNPPrCyb6Hk-b9tddPfxH9qNYjla37p3yobfExH3t9J45nk16eJeYI-9u8Qi6lQdEgRZigsX7huqwFZD4j8RYQB0J0c9qOmE/s1600/chair.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 304px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7qgtZxIFqNavFTubEZAepNfmKQ_FRFqtly5PaIm3Pc9qLNPPrCyb6Hk-b9tddPfxH9qNYjla37p3yobfExH3t9J45nk16eJeYI-9u8Qi6lQdEgRZigsX7huqwFZD4j8RYQB0J0c9qOmE/s400/chair.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677625659755331458" /></a><br />The color, variety, and specifics will vary from specimen to specimen. They are not human, nor are they living, so they receive absolutely no rights or responsibilities from the government. They can not make any decision, legal or otherwise.<br /><br />This is the Eiffel Tower...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtcqT7ssOKlRMlMPOhHarjismWGj-RIKHUuQgtWj028f1Qyko0FJfA1ilEqh8R5-0ELMDswljwqrn7foPmaqrEv4ITDMAJ5pajJ0i5JzIcptcPPKfSOOC1ALO6rRiKPj3Za-lWscaidFc/s1600/200px-Tour_Eiffel_Wikimedia_Commons.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 370px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtcqT7ssOKlRMlMPOhHarjismWGj-RIKHUuQgtWj028f1Qyko0FJfA1ilEqh8R5-0ELMDswljwqrn7foPmaqrEv4ITDMAJ5pajJ0i5JzIcptcPPKfSOOC1ALO6rRiKPj3Za-lWscaidFc/s400/200px-Tour_Eiffel_Wikimedia_Commons.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677626031742517186" /></a><br />There is only one Eiffel tower, so there is no variance. It is not American, nor is it sentient, and therefore does not recieve any rights or responsibilities from the government. It can not make any decisions, and even if it could, it is not American, therefore any legal decisions made are only binding in France (theoretical decisions, of course).<br /><br />Now that we've cleared some things up, we can extrapolate. The only two entities on the list that a) have the legal rights endowed by the constitution to make their own legally binding decisions and b) are able to execute those by virtue of their ages are the adult American human males and adult American human females. Therefore, there is no logical legal reason for these two...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Ep4wz6IyvrUA40EfpQhB2cPnbQhHA_T70UlfEVvKplpRzKwst2YOjGV7lV5IVuj6ajyIPrtqTe9CpIdLsVRII5E6YPOKJ_1ZsR7v11r38ZKy-Xq-9ca7YeuO0bNecMSfNu4qNk0Wg14/s1600/gays.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 349px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Ep4wz6IyvrUA40EfpQhB2cPnbQhHA_T70UlfEVvKplpRzKwst2YOjGV7lV5IVuj6ajyIPrtqTe9CpIdLsVRII5E6YPOKJ_1ZsR7v11r38ZKy-Xq-9ca7YeuO0bNecMSfNu4qNk0Wg14/s400/gays.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677627609243980002" /></a><br /><br />or these two...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeGDDjqg6MPWrBB4JrLAeXQ-5wauLCEvqDMn3Qqjp1Kf4-U8wmEr7LXlQ2zNO43zUtRraL-2JKul90rdln2YxaF04Fx8Lnaji-BGlwPJgYLxsDBq6nEvz203f9FkRkC8AZK6Zamn-dAFI/s1600/93B27C13-D66D-EAB5-79548CA4CD5A7967_1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeGDDjqg6MPWrBB4JrLAeXQ-5wauLCEvqDMn3Qqjp1Kf4-U8wmEr7LXlQ2zNO43zUtRraL-2JKul90rdln2YxaF04Fx8Lnaji-BGlwPJgYLxsDBq6nEvz203f9FkRkC8AZK6Zamn-dAFI/s400/93B27C13-D66D-EAB5-79548CA4CD5A7967_1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677627760531824146" /></a><br /><br />or these two...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLnSfDZyIg5aba2iPHwmduMSaTEo1jw4motp8ORGSG3NOqHTo8amgyVkhl06buSOQdrTiplBvmr4eNOtKFqu5h3IFHNvGYBgSf46GkjGAQbkYY0lqBtSgJGEO3EHt4KT9DLEN-idjSpR0/s1600/LesbianCouple.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 382px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLnSfDZyIg5aba2iPHwmduMSaTEo1jw4motp8ORGSG3NOqHTo8amgyVkhl06buSOQdrTiplBvmr4eNOtKFqu5h3IFHNvGYBgSf46GkjGAQbkYY0lqBtSgJGEO3EHt4KT9DLEN-idjSpR0/s400/LesbianCouple.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677627889714934466" /></a><br /><br />to receive the exact same rights. These rights include the right to vote, drive, pay taxes, and marry. And, because it is legal, for this...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjW1xa3r0fvq7QuHw3cSK3Lb_qDnCJgHnhhOvIn8dIpdwftlMraQifx9erulGx7XiYlJX9xsC5R3OR4XGx-i1rKXWbXqbCnycKHOb9GPBeiTrMTSCejJYBcH2kPadJyb67sTVAxI-g7A8/s1600/divorce.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 324px; height: 220px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjW1xa3r0fvq7QuHw3cSK3Lb_qDnCJgHnhhOvIn8dIpdwftlMraQifx9erulGx7XiYlJX9xsC5R3OR4XGx-i1rKXWbXqbCnycKHOb9GPBeiTrMTSCejJYBcH2kPadJyb67sTVAxI-g7A8/s400/divorce.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677628526818609266" /></a><br /><br />Which is much more of a threat to marriage than any of the above situations.<br /><br />Got it? Can we move on now?<br /><br />Song of teh post: Gay Bar, by Electric Six<br />Crazy, creepy, GOP campaign manager of teh post: Tamara Scott, Manager for the Bachman Campaign.Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-45588313454965838612011-11-15T09:10:00.003-06:002011-11-15T09:58:38.653-06:00Not gonna get angry... Not gonna get angry...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ov-jN6KwYdNYlx8fbe7zAQ90dUc3sZhaF5Smlt8pEBTaYt8_wSw9v0ampfBqc23R5jWK28Tb-QhfAnitr-lzJRYOdxGBvwPlpZWw1QwP_YtQ9P85zSMwgzkViaLTpJtbD_MUhDQJNcA/s1600/images.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ov-jN6KwYdNYlx8fbe7zAQ90dUc3sZhaF5Smlt8pEBTaYt8_wSw9v0ampfBqc23R5jWK28Tb-QhfAnitr-lzJRYOdxGBvwPlpZWw1QwP_YtQ9P85zSMwgzkViaLTpJtbD_MUhDQJNcA/s400/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675251996671628914" /></a><br /><br /><br />I can appreciate a lot of abstract things. The philosophy of post-modernism in which we don't really KNOW anything, and what we perceive is filtered through too many cultural biases for us to really be sure of its veracity... I can try to think like that and succeed... I think...<br /><br />But things that are so blatantly ridiculous, so patently absurd, so... so weird... I can't get behind thinking like that. Take this complaint. I got this article from the Chicago Daily Herald (http://www.heraldextra.com/lifestyles/faith-and-values/bishops-say-government-eroding-religious-liberty/article_6fa06089-9c04-5685-b0e8-1d018045657f.html)<br /><br />As usual, my snark filled and 'intolerant' remarks will be in italics...<br /><br />U.S. Roman Catholic bishops vowed Monday to defend their religious liberty in the face of growing acceptance of gay marriage and what they called attempts by secularists to marginalize faith. <span style="font-style:italic;">Off to a GREAT start. Because we all know that denying basic rights to people is a cornerstone of the church's dogma. When they stop getting government handouts and tax-free status and aren't the RICHEST religion in the world that preaches the benefits of suffering and poverty, then I'll listen to their complaints. Until then... Well...</span><br /><br />Bishop William Lori, leader of a new national religious liberty committee, condemned federal and state policies that he said interfered with the church's ability to provide social services, from health care to immigrant support to international aid. <span style="font-style:italic;">And when we become an entirely religious nation, fully under the control of the vatican, then we will bow to Lori's wishes.</span><br /><br />In Illinois, government officials stopped working with Catholic Charities on adoptions and foster-care placements after 40 years because the agency refused to recognize a new civil union law. Illinois bishops had sued the state but on Monday said they would stop the legal fight and no longer provide state-funded services. <span style="font-style:italic;">The mere fact that the church is doling out STATE-FUNDED SERVICES is a huge red flag.</span><br /><br />In New York, the bishops, along with Orthodox Jewish leaders and others, have complained that the religious exception in this year's law allowing gay marriage is too weak to be effective. <span style="font-style:italic;">Don't like gay marriage? Don't get one. But you can't deny people state funded services because of your religion. That is a functional definition of prejudice. Welcome to civil rights 101.</span><br /><br />On the federal level, the bishops have been pressing the Health and Human Services Department during its public comment period for a broader religious exception to part of President Barack Obama's health care overhaul that mandates private insurers pay for contraception. <span style="font-style:italic;">Typical. Blastocysts have more importance than actual humans. This kind of dogmatic, unquestioning loyalty attached to privilege and entitlement makes me urk.</span><br /><br />"We should not be obliged to provide services or other initiatives that are contrary to our conscience," said Lori, bishop of Bridgeport, Conn. "We don't need the government forcing our hand." <span style="font-style:italic;">Then refuse tax exempt status. Remove chaplains from the military. Refuse to be a sponsor of schools. Stop trying to get prayer into sports games. Close your private schools. Repeal the 1970 Walz Supreme Court decision. Stop blocking legislation that supports planned parenthood. YOU are forcing the hands of the SECULARIST IDEALS that this government should be founded on. And quit being dicks.</span><br /><br />Archbishop Timothy Dolan, president of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, said the bishops are not just reacting to Obama's policies, but to a broader society in a "drive to neuter religion" and "push religion back into the sacristy." <span style="font-style:italic;">Wow! The gall! To be a member of the richest, most privileged religion in the richest, most privileged society and to complain about how you don't want to follow the rules of that society... You have balls of solid marble.</span><br /><br />"That's a cultural issue that the church has been concerned about forever, not just in the United States," Dolan said. <span style="font-style:italic;">Remember when the church was in charge of everything, including culture and social health? It was called the dark ages.</span><br /><br />But Dolan said he discussed the church's concerns with Obama when the two men met last week in the Oval Office. The archbishop said Obama was "extraordinarily friendly" and "very ardent" in reassuring Dolan that the administration would look into the problems. <span style="font-style:italic;">What problems? To make the church do what it should do under a secular government? Does anyone see a problem with this?</span><br /><br />"I left there feeling a bit more at peace with this issue than when I entered," Dolan said. <span style="font-style:italic;">Glad the great capitulator could stroke your ego, Dolan.</span><br /><br />Religious freedom was the main focus at the fall meeting of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, which has public sessions through Tuesday. <span style="font-style:italic;">"Item number two on the agenda: How to keep kids quiet about the whole... you know..."</span><br /><br />The new religious liberty committee that church leaders formed met for the first time. Anthony Picarello, general counsel for the conference, will oversee that work, which will include hiring a lobbyist and another attorney.<br /><br />Picarello had worked for seven years at the Becket Fund for Religious Liberty, a public-interest law firm based in Washington, and also served on an advisory committee for Obama's Office of Faith-Based and Neighborhood Partnerships.<br /><br />Bishops hope to persuade federal lawmakers to retain the Defense of Marriage Act, which passed in 1996, and launched a new website called Marriageuniqueforareason.org. Obama has said his administration would no longer defend the law, calling it "counter to the Constitution." Bishops said it was wrong to describe their religious convictions as discrimination. <span style="font-style:italic;">When it is discrimination, it will be called that. And don't you dare try to make yourselves out to be the ones taking the moral high ground. That's akin to the slavery you condoned because the bible approved it. Human laws are invariably more moral than religious ones because human laws can change. Deal with it.</span><br /><br />"The church has nothing against compromise, but we can't compromise principle," Dolan said. <span style="font-style:italic;">"Not only will we not compromise principle, we'll demand you conform to our ideals. See? We're not against compromise."</span><br /><br />The bishops are confronting the Health and Human Services Department on another front. The government agency recently decided not to renew a contract held since 2006 by the bishops' refugee services office to help victims of human trafficking. <span style="font-style:italic;">What?</span><br /><br />The American Civil Liberties Union is suing to stop the agency from making grants to groups who "impose religiously based restrictions on reproductive health services" for human trafficking victims. The women are often raped and forced into prostitution by their captors. <span style="font-style:italic;">WHAT?! This is the definition of evil. Refusing to allow women who were raped and forced into prostitution reproductive health services? The church has NO moral high ground to stand on now.</span><br /><br />The bishops' conference has called the decision biased against Catholic beliefs. <span style="font-style:italic;">"Rape and torture are bad, but nowhere near as bad as RU-486".</span> Agency officials vehemently deny any bias and say the sole criteria for evaluating potential grantees was which group could best serve the victims. Administration officials note that the vast network of Catholic social service nonprofits, including the bishops' conference, receives hundreds of millions of dollars in government funding in amounts that have increased in the last couple of years. <span style="font-style:italic;">You have more of a duty to your dogma than to human beings? That's horrible. Evil.</span><br /><br />"We should not be at a disadvantage competing for contracts because we bring certain convictions to the table," Lori said. <span style="font-style:italic;">The only convictions I see are crimes against humanity on the part of the church, but that's just me, I guess.</span><br /><br />Does anyone else feel unrighteous indignation boiling up inside them now?<br /><br />Fuck it. Here's a picture of a small cute animal.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjWT1CZCqTuTVFAzeoEkWgj0CRUHWpeyHqU7_em_wcMvNtQMwwIUCHrM0jtDoonf7DPUVZ6erFuAu3EgkgpB1goGKAtMWAah-0iOArqpVc1GlWnOmL8nwVAno7tMIaJdb2FuwqoIOILVo/s1600/cute1-13upadg.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjWT1CZCqTuTVFAzeoEkWgj0CRUHWpeyHqU7_em_wcMvNtQMwwIUCHrM0jtDoonf7DPUVZ6erFuAu3EgkgpB1goGKAtMWAah-0iOArqpVc1GlWnOmL8nwVAno7tMIaJdb2FuwqoIOILVo/s400/cute1-13upadg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675252091576617346" /></a><br /><br />Song of teh post: Anti-Pope, by The Damned<br />Atheist saint of teh post: Agnes Gonxha BojaxhiuFiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-28973353712195249182011-11-01T07:51:00.024-06:002011-11-01T09:40:08.948-06:00Man... That was weird...Ok, so I was hanging out with my girlfriend at her apartment last weekend. She was at work, and I was just watching some roller derby DVDs, waiting for her to come home so we could hang out with the rest of the young, hip and trendy. I should have known something was wrong earlier in the day when I noticed that my eyes were glowing red, but I put that down to a natural symptom of living in Kentucky.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ-Mx2Whs4ZLCxFw9oL2WTQUVhNCT1oMvPbmBKwy0XXieQBnkaDBMi7ne5X58HcG1Wf2jAus6jxr7uzN5g-RvuYexzMz2q6EXw_dQxw960VNdbZXKgqk2JYadPFrhdencBRcdajS6ijqs/s1600/IMG_4032.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ-Mx2Whs4ZLCxFw9oL2WTQUVhNCT1oMvPbmBKwy0XXieQBnkaDBMi7ne5X58HcG1Wf2jAus6jxr7uzN5g-RvuYexzMz2q6EXw_dQxw960VNdbZXKgqk2JYadPFrhdencBRcdajS6ijqs/s400/IMG_4032.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670025078758481410" /></a><br /><br />When all of a sudden I thought... "Man, I could sure use a drink. I wonder if she has any beer in her fridge." I'm not an alcoholic, by the way. It WAS Saturday night. So shut up.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyII3FRJ3oaYQHXUIzbbBqnq3B1aXmpjRLv1pkFEMD2DIiiShwtsmLlOCm018kleSnHgIz34hIV13dyZPrbhPPWcE6HK2M6ScL1M7rdbh-PPSBvYzo59QLLh20Orh-xiSGXDNcDe9eGxI/s1600/IMG_4033.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyII3FRJ3oaYQHXUIzbbBqnq3B1aXmpjRLv1pkFEMD2DIiiShwtsmLlOCm018kleSnHgIz34hIV13dyZPrbhPPWcE6HK2M6ScL1M7rdbh-PPSBvYzo59QLLh20Orh-xiSGXDNcDe9eGxI/s400/IMG_4033.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670025389626089778" /></a><br /><br />So I sauntered jauntily over to the ice box to see if she had anything of the fizzy boozy type.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9HZpcCh_F5Tj_D1NMT1k7jKLZeQuMrkTSIMYMMJK36DFX1fwkjRAFxKtb43gh9u5dIgxuzSoPM2HbnECnDmxDOu7O5Gn5WgBC0iHxOerPrUR81T0eyTOzlCOXqc3ddVdkA16rf2QjLL4/s1600/IMG_4034.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9HZpcCh_F5Tj_D1NMT1k7jKLZeQuMrkTSIMYMMJK36DFX1fwkjRAFxKtb43gh9u5dIgxuzSoPM2HbnECnDmxDOu7O5Gn5WgBC0iHxOerPrUR81T0eyTOzlCOXqc3ddVdkA16rf2QjLL4/s400/IMG_4034.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670025639794315762" /></a><br /><br />Alas...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSBplyoMrVT6B2y6r8t392_I6Mklf_ajbQV9QxOxwa-DXw1tkeCf2yr3CS4j5vjr_nBd_2nGYW_IEnWsalQ1958yhTMxdth-tP_cexdNwORFVf6ZlR7GEdgpxLWaoVH3MO7s4s9vTvSk/s1600/IMG_4042.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSBplyoMrVT6B2y6r8t392_I6Mklf_ajbQV9QxOxwa-DXw1tkeCf2yr3CS4j5vjr_nBd_2nGYW_IEnWsalQ1958yhTMxdth-tP_cexdNwORFVf6ZlR7GEdgpxLWaoVH3MO7s4s9vTvSk/s400/IMG_4042.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670025836761275122" /></a><br /><br />So I did what any of us would have done...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiONQ0ZUbsbk7yaO_bVFsKMzbtDrPEU9dhZL72OdpifQiMD2jF7KJ-QVRDablRwGPaOfTZ38ZZ_hJij8ChwY1O6cxneUT9owjJRgqQDAfiajR622B5ReOAzIWMTI6MACGDvHMfHzFdMMbM/s1600/IMG_4043.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiONQ0ZUbsbk7yaO_bVFsKMzbtDrPEU9dhZL72OdpifQiMD2jF7KJ-QVRDablRwGPaOfTZ38ZZ_hJij8ChwY1O6cxneUT9owjJRgqQDAfiajR622B5ReOAzIWMTI6MACGDvHMfHzFdMMbM/s400/IMG_4043.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670026046477135618" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBWSNd-7oLDqX7bLGMlRPDpiWJZI23EaLZ4Ry-4kt0KvGZWzLhdmofnFgEk-d87-u-plniQOCwriKMvatFwvpi9auvJqyWso-Su8V3yY_tcb91WqUMLeIl3GC1wJl0pL6i7f4Nty4-Z-k/s1600/IMG_4045.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBWSNd-7oLDqX7bLGMlRPDpiWJZI23EaLZ4Ry-4kt0KvGZWzLhdmofnFgEk-d87-u-plniQOCwriKMvatFwvpi9auvJqyWso-Su8V3yY_tcb91WqUMLeIl3GC1wJl0pL6i7f4Nty4-Z-k/s400/IMG_4045.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670026180658744034" /></a><br /><br />All of a sudden, I got this funny feeling. I thought to myself "Self, what exactly do they make this stuff out of?" I then tried to say something but my lip went numb.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYo2-vFdmVpTPwDAEEnjAK_AyaZHv4bA4s0vb3uWVwW4NbAGVdjFfGvFgNW5Ta7bvY330m_wtoKwCvBTeiOOAhZJHNWIc9AFe1f2tmqO9BOeKZWGSg2CqrRfDRYj27t7fcv6Zw28dbB9k/s1600/IMG_4047.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYo2-vFdmVpTPwDAEEnjAK_AyaZHv4bA4s0vb3uWVwW4NbAGVdjFfGvFgNW5Ta7bvY330m_wtoKwCvBTeiOOAhZJHNWIc9AFe1f2tmqO9BOeKZWGSg2CqrRfDRYj27t7fcv6Zw28dbB9k/s400/IMG_4047.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670026478359943874" /></a><br /><br />It started to get really hot and I began to sweat... but this wasn't any normal sweat...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicra6pER7RTTEn5H66o7IV5W5ZGbNVZcegUDzOP-_6RquEyxC7pRTQ2T9NVtaIV0twJz3cZHB4ZtituW2QFc-QPdI4dube19e0HMhmlo3enrbOPty8whtY6yZ5vEFxBfczIaIMM8CFkvU/s1600/IMG_4048.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicra6pER7RTTEn5H66o7IV5W5ZGbNVZcegUDzOP-_6RquEyxC7pRTQ2T9NVtaIV0twJz3cZHB4ZtituW2QFc-QPdI4dube19e0HMhmlo3enrbOPty8whtY6yZ5vEFxBfczIaIMM8CFkvU/s400/IMG_4048.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670026818004864002" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVhlGHrhoE4k2fJd-WN8W5dK2MsmoJHzWCa8eAMgamgBGGZ-cvQqZ9JJoEFL2CJvD0AiJ4zDSvZYtM1KVddv6ODievSBFAYqTqwAgaGKuJ2u9RStJkmpj6yPZfX7mlY9ORg6kjDOWtnGQ/s1600/IMG_4050.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVhlGHrhoE4k2fJd-WN8W5dK2MsmoJHzWCa8eAMgamgBGGZ-cvQqZ9JJoEFL2CJvD0AiJ4zDSvZYtM1KVddv6ODievSBFAYqTqwAgaGKuJ2u9RStJkmpj6yPZfX7mlY9ORg6kjDOWtnGQ/s400/IMG_4050.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670027135122675746" /></a><br /><br />It started to spread...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjViRjdUKESKLDY7Fcrmkx1DOCKoz1GVHVWcOcotLesg0PSNN6OeZ9uhKnb2cwwres5wG9H1PcMqs3TB5I5Xcx1SIkxf8BbzPZcj2L5r7y2Z5V2qn6lLuRkM1aGqqjTIGJlYhk2silfFjs/s1600/IMG_4051.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjViRjdUKESKLDY7Fcrmkx1DOCKoz1GVHVWcOcotLesg0PSNN6OeZ9uhKnb2cwwres5wG9H1PcMqs3TB5I5Xcx1SIkxf8BbzPZcj2L5r7y2Z5V2qn6lLuRkM1aGqqjTIGJlYhk2silfFjs/s400/IMG_4051.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670027487184969954" /></a><br /><br />Of course, I am a scientist, so after the initial shock wore off, I decided to study this strange phenomenon. I was slightly disturbed that this strange sweat covered almost my entire face, but I wanted to let things happen...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyGVHOJfiezaJE7WBb6BKOFmANeykch6QuEmaCq5zLDm_WHWMP95T3ejHsJrHXTJd400Tz3NvhBvkh7gEojeeUiVwS-DCil3X7OD3IjBQq-TockzhQN-AFjSQeFkChfWdlRKJtlIMHyPw/s1600/IMG_4053.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyGVHOJfiezaJE7WBb6BKOFmANeykch6QuEmaCq5zLDm_WHWMP95T3ejHsJrHXTJd400Tz3NvhBvkh7gEojeeUiVwS-DCil3X7OD3IjBQq-TockzhQN-AFjSQeFkChfWdlRKJtlIMHyPw/s400/IMG_4053.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670028411421263138" /></a><br /><br />I was NOT prepared for my hair to turn silver and grow at an alarming rate, however.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVcxgqCB67B4vZrhtdyr94kmos4AipqLlt85uP4yA5PY7BihmFKsh5Kl7nEDouxpiPc41nmNbSethGMrtDD_CnN4bwKS26RceAgAAPlzu1h-kCnkHIf6hb-Gme-KlxQGMaKd0UW6lw2TY/s1600/IMG_4054.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVcxgqCB67B4vZrhtdyr94kmos4AipqLlt85uP4yA5PY7BihmFKsh5Kl7nEDouxpiPc41nmNbSethGMrtDD_CnN4bwKS26RceAgAAPlzu1h-kCnkHIf6hb-Gme-KlxQGMaKd0UW6lw2TY/s400/IMG_4054.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670028635615094018" /></a><br /><br />I ran to the bathroom to see what exactly was going on. My teeth started to rot... That was disconcerting...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8r4YLOE3fVgiZkGqtZKdG4lc6sOWQRN_mH4fIJ9Cb9xonoOzeYyDvYcQGMpSaDgWV-gJeOnsK2md6hnY0H_8tZix_B9Z2f-geMQ4093vxSwdpMQopXa0-h0XZa7XgsTP8_p_5xim3S6Y/s1600/IMG_4056.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8r4YLOE3fVgiZkGqtZKdG4lc6sOWQRN_mH4fIJ9Cb9xonoOzeYyDvYcQGMpSaDgWV-gJeOnsK2md6hnY0H_8tZix_B9Z2f-geMQ4093vxSwdpMQopXa0-h0XZa7XgsTP8_p_5xim3S6Y/s400/IMG_4056.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670029084469979090" /></a><br /><br />However, after a strange growth developed on my face where the sweat wasn't, and after grabbing a top hat, I realized that I actually liked this new look. This may have been the disease talking, I'll admit.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_WtDf-i-QcerqzkHxdVVCk6S8HcHJb-UB4Dd3r1W-VmUVWl2zsZ1zcUCGQs9BRCu62tbu8x9PEOAIcMoRjqQdueI8AielrGiHHIf24QNB9E60oW8lvfjUieiZiJm-MVZ8nHmrUZbpUNg/s1600/IMG_4058.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_WtDf-i-QcerqzkHxdVVCk6S8HcHJb-UB4Dd3r1W-VmUVWl2zsZ1zcUCGQs9BRCu62tbu8x9PEOAIcMoRjqQdueI8AielrGiHHIf24QNB9E60oW8lvfjUieiZiJm-MVZ8nHmrUZbpUNg/s400/IMG_4058.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670029566243401586" /></a><br /><br />I looked in the mirror and tried to say "You know what, I don't really mind this new look! I think I'll go out on the town tonight and show it off." What came out was "Cor, blimey! I'm lookin' like a wall street plonker! I'm gonna go to the nuclear sub and give everyone a butchers." I had turned cockney. I had turned into...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wG58GyrADadYXID79J50Zv27NbX4Gc9fkwB2NgdfhdUGNFEKULdMNmVmhWj8U_gDX9t2YksGX5OA6qEn76mHUbGBI8kmjigs_qLVXn_yiEXNXomXvm8seYr9WXYKRS4FmBGYFT9uMEY/s1600/IMG_4063.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wG58GyrADadYXID79J50Zv27NbX4Gc9fkwB2NgdfhdUGNFEKULdMNmVmhWj8U_gDX9t2YksGX5OA6qEn76mHUbGBI8kmjigs_qLVXn_yiEXNXomXvm8seYr9WXYKRS4FmBGYFT9uMEY/s400/IMG_4063.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670030225981752178" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">The Hitcher.</span></span><br /><br />Just then my girlfriend came home. I gave her a sip of the beer, hoping she would turn into a wintergreen nightmare like me. She turned into Daria.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDf_jeh96cLI6h5EuvGIiubtcp4V8HYYSG-YAqD9DGHNiWt8laRxSM6Gmn7P7nkNbQk-u0krzprS1l0ZAJfHChyGwNR1UNMsksziD1-O8ibPSWbJuCUUSb2nOguNON81D3L_0pFNdEZy0/s1600/IMG_4064.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDf_jeh96cLI6h5EuvGIiubtcp4V8HYYSG-YAqD9DGHNiWt8laRxSM6Gmn7P7nkNbQk-u0krzprS1l0ZAJfHChyGwNR1UNMsksziD1-O8ibPSWbJuCUUSb2nOguNON81D3L_0pFNdEZy0/s400/IMG_4064.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670030644875232994" /></a><br />I had no problem with this.<br /><br />So we spent a night on the town! Went to a piano bar where it was 80's night, and all the Journey and Foreigner instantly made me want to kill. I strolled up to the bar and said "Pint of the black stuff, landlord." He poured me a Guinness. Then I jabbed him in the gums with a screwdriver. This pleased me.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2FQH-AlMvz0BcWrsUrypWAr3hiLkuhhg66zWTPJ-Nc33RUXjZ-5Touf6oeOnOaFD6dvqByedHduf9qT_T04LOz5t3z8zm1q0guWrDXR5ggQos02ziEQUJFgVU7QKeQ7-mIFmKRV9DCbk/s1600/IMG_4065.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2FQH-AlMvz0BcWrsUrypWAr3hiLkuhhg66zWTPJ-Nc33RUXjZ-5Touf6oeOnOaFD6dvqByedHduf9qT_T04LOz5t3z8zm1q0guWrDXR5ggQos02ziEQUJFgVU7QKeQ7-mIFmKRV9DCbk/s400/IMG_4065.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670031168782379298" /></a><br /><br />Daria was not impressed. She was, however, hot, so I didn't mind.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg8XF8WrplghXsEno75DkITR9MaFgkyPr13Y22yvk1yQ-Ul8GL8ii_XxTzuSDxkE4hMpwbPslgJhTGzK3tfodazt5CPGbcYGmzPym6jyealtG_TRzhER9K03A5-YCTNlQUIEixGahwDVI/s1600/IMG_4067.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg8XF8WrplghXsEno75DkITR9MaFgkyPr13Y22yvk1yQ-Ul8GL8ii_XxTzuSDxkE4hMpwbPslgJhTGzK3tfodazt5CPGbcYGmzPym6jyealtG_TRzhER9K03A5-YCTNlQUIEixGahwDVI/s400/IMG_4067.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670031591911675890" /></a><br /><br />Then I decided to be all creepy in an alley. I did this purely for my own amusement. That and the murdering.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs0wF-HZAePHz5i2yKcHrz0p6t-RLWpMAWDbwGtCZWeNNiVFBe2bnBuy2UjBkSuM4ldcCfcGLUP0JliWIIoms5COSz_A0STQASgl3Z129kmEOgKClGgJMPZ6ofIDDwCeqR69DY-01QL9c/s1600/IMG_4070.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs0wF-HZAePHz5i2yKcHrz0p6t-RLWpMAWDbwGtCZWeNNiVFBe2bnBuy2UjBkSuM4ldcCfcGLUP0JliWIIoms5COSz_A0STQASgl3Z129kmEOgKClGgJMPZ6ofIDDwCeqR69DY-01QL9c/s400/IMG_4070.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670031922995654642" /></a><br /><br />We strolled up to another bar and I sat down for a drink. Someone passed me something called a furry belly button or something. I wasn't sure about it, but hey... free drink.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqXPgVBU7NlEsfTyvMP9wO6hPa7xsAgJVoAzf0vfjLP8rorbNOd6sgSQUirM_ax3FAp6o-tTXdYadhwc58jPy7EM4ibi7f0D21lm5YIWmu0wbJh3EaSkCj18Py_zUKMqojRgrG7w09H_8/s1600/IMG_4071.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqXPgVBU7NlEsfTyvMP9wO6hPa7xsAgJVoAzf0vfjLP8rorbNOd6sgSQUirM_ax3FAp6o-tTXdYadhwc58jPy7EM4ibi7f0D21lm5YIWmu0wbJh3EaSkCj18Py_zUKMqojRgrG7w09H_8/s400/IMG_4071.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670032332756823586" /></a><br /><br />I took a sip and things began to get all fuzzy... for me AND the camera, apparently...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefeAKpKqIo8RC9NG_dIiVdyoWk6URneQsqDGcS-UGfWH4k1nBW9WgfmOS8c5gjWRh59CTlPL6pgIRbNxwm2MoyVU2Iy_XfJQsZiTKXmpy4Bjq37hwVoNPsV36llxujvNYOatvtze0bn0/s1600/IMG_4072.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefeAKpKqIo8RC9NG_dIiVdyoWk6URneQsqDGcS-UGfWH4k1nBW9WgfmOS8c5gjWRh59CTlPL6pgIRbNxwm2MoyVU2Iy_XfJQsZiTKXmpy4Bjq37hwVoNPsV36llxujvNYOatvtze0bn0/s400/IMG_4072.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670032494174997458" /></a><br /><br />The next thing I remember I woke up. All was back to normal. I wasn't green, I had a ripping hangover, but I was my normal, pink self again... Until I rolled over and saw who I had ended up going home with...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiMe7Px7EaIelpbfpT82m7toxz5DmMxcapcIeqgrFi30ad_8J2pHMbB0cYEB3x5gwJ0SbFBYevrmYoqre6W0Ymx1BFLbaUiONExw_iXqV0Y8PCld0jXCnPxbgTVnjEhLq-PNOch_AISVg/s1600/IMG_4029.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiMe7Px7EaIelpbfpT82m7toxz5DmMxcapcIeqgrFi30ad_8J2pHMbB0cYEB3x5gwJ0SbFBYevrmYoqre6W0Ymx1BFLbaUiONExw_iXqV0Y8PCld0jXCnPxbgTVnjEhLq-PNOch_AISVg/s400/IMG_4029.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670032777795442130" /></a><br /><br />The moral of the story... NEVER drink Keystone Ice.<br /><br />Song of teh post: Eels, by The Mighty Boosh Feat. The Hitcher<br />Awesomeness of teh post: Someone recognized my character and asked to take their picture with me! I stabbed him with a frozen eel.Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-49293319150374885412011-10-11T10:32:00.004-06:002011-11-15T10:19:35.191-06:00Literally the bible... Paht 3<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizIsFREI0rYn17bkbRWQxGhRkkLvVb1K3WyjWQwp-wn1Q8pfl5fwOZEFLTjy0eJy76GLVFXI7dxC9qQbPU3WS-8qffms4YdmlFssm-lAc_NhfcJieNIMCCgid7mAqmrwrfaiAAEyiHSJs/s1600/Apple_snake_by_ForestManFx.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 335px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizIsFREI0rYn17bkbRWQxGhRkkLvVb1K3WyjWQwp-wn1Q8pfl5fwOZEFLTjy0eJy76GLVFXI7dxC9qQbPU3WS-8qffms4YdmlFssm-lAc_NhfcJieNIMCCgid7mAqmrwrfaiAAEyiHSJs/s400/Apple_snake_by_ForestManFx.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662274346651943842" /></a><br />Yep... I'm doing it again...<br /><br />1 Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Her first thought was probably something like "He did, but I don't know why," instead of "HOLY FUCKING WOMBATS A TALKING FUCKING SNAKE!!!"</span><br /><br />2 The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, <br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"Because we have been for most of our evolutionary paths... Err... I mean..."</span><br /><br />3 but God did say, ‘You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.’”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Wait... How did Eve know? God only told Adam not to eat from the tree. Someone get Lucasfilms on the phone... I think Han just shot first...</span><br /><br />4 “You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. <br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"Trust me. I'm a fucking talking snake."</span><br /><br />5 “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Well... that's true. Why did God keep that information to himself? Wouldn't full disclosure be better than just merely commanding people to follow rules unquestioningly, lest you actually learn something? I'm sensing the beginnings of a pattern here.</span><br /><br /> 6 When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Pfft... Typical women. Trying to learn things and think.</span><br /><br />7 Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">This is a good and bad thing. I would love to live in a world where Fairuza Balk walked around nude, but dread the idea of a world where Danny Devito was sans panties.</span><br /><br />8 Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the LORD God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from the LORD God among the trees of the garden.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I bet the Lord stomps around like he owns the place.</span><br /><br />9 But the LORD God called to the man, “Where are you?”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"Why don't you know?"</span><br /><br />10 He answered, “I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"Ye should be afraid, for I shall rend you with my holy staff in your dangly bits."</span><br /><br />11 And he said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I'm sure Adam was all kicking the ground with his fig leaf shoe and saying something like "Noooo... Well I did but it was Eve's fault!"</span><br /><br />12 The man said, “The woman you put here with me—she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it.”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">And everything afterwards was women's fault.</span><br /><br />13 Then the LORD God said to the woman, “What is this you have done?” The woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">No, the serpent told the truth. You just lied for the first time. First lie evar!</span><br /><br /> 14 So the LORD God said to the serpent, “Because you have done this, Cursed are you above all livestock and all wild animals! You will crawl on your belly and you will eat dust all the days of your life.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I don't know... I think the dung beetle is more cursed. Or the gay black republicans.</span><br /><br />15 And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush[b] your head, and you will strike his heel.”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Honestly... I have no idea what this means.</span><br /><br /> 16 To the woman he said, “I will make your pains in childbearing very severe; with painful labor you will give birth to children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"Except for Ellen Degeneres and K. D. Lang."</span><br /><br /> 17 To Adam he said, “Because you listened to your wife and ate fruit from the tree about which I commanded you, ‘You must not eat from it,’ “Cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat food from it all the days of your life.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"Until I invent then condone slavery. Then the food you eat shall come from somebody else's painful toil. Women are still screwed in the childbearing thing."</span><br /><br />18 It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Thorns, I think, will be a serious problem for another of God's children. Stay tuned!</span><br /><br />19 By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"And in between the taking and returning, you shall poop. This curse, above all else, is the worst."</span><br /><br />20 Adam named his wife Eve, because she would become the mother of all the living.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">She didn't have a name beforehand? Is this that traditional marriage thing I've been hearing so much about?</span><br /><br />21 The LORD God made garments of skin for Adam and his wife and clothed them.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Later, these skins will become fashionable in parts of Paris and New York through clothing designers that make so much money God would plotz.</span><br /><br />22 And the LORD God said, “The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever.”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Ok, here's the tree of life thingy. Where's THAT tree? I want the life fruit! And if we had eternal life before, as is explained by that dust to dust comment, why was there a fruit that we shouldn't eat that granted that exact thing that we have already? This is the kind of logical inconsistency that I thrive on.</span><br /><br />23 So the LORD God banished him from the Garden of Eden to work the ground from which he had been taken.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">But before that, he said unto himself, "I REALLY should have seen that one coming!"</span><br /><br />24 After he drove the man out, he placed on the east side[e] of the Garden of Eden cherubim and a flaming sword flashing back and forth to guard the way to the tree of life. <br /><span style="font-style:italic;">And this phenomenon shall herald the election of Michelle Bachman. And all shall be lost.</span><br /><br />Stay tuned next time. Are you gonna kill your brother? I will, I'm not Able! (yuk yuk)Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-14340781167583943472011-08-01T15:20:00.004-06:002011-08-01T15:49:05.348-06:00I can't believe that I'm having to say this.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbCzvFE5ARo5MzAb4rU_aPp9EyNF72D2_Bonv06FRMOhjGAcU6osJcNVmGF63mRyT7H8lYDLyZXF7hZmJldBtHREmum1Dh7VNid5emEkUaUls-6luPt7kFb7ADBpnJjCQhj7KhHOq5S9s/s1600/42-24602590.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 356px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbCzvFE5ARo5MzAb4rU_aPp9EyNF72D2_Bonv06FRMOhjGAcU6osJcNVmGF63mRyT7H8lYDLyZXF7hZmJldBtHREmum1Dh7VNid5emEkUaUls-6luPt7kFb7ADBpnJjCQhj7KhHOq5S9s/s400/42-24602590.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636001129594286754" border="0" /></a><br /><br />(Forgive the scattershot form of this post. I'm too pissed off to edit.)<br /><br />So I spent a lovely weekend with wonderful people doing things that I love. When I left on Friday, there was no debt deal. Even though it is a silly debate to begin with, due to the clause in the 14th amendment stating that the president is the baws in this kind of situation, and popular support is behind the democrats, and et cetera, I was confident that the republicans would be able to see that their opinion wasn't sustainable and the democrats wouldn't get much of what they wanted, but at least it wouldn't be a wash out.<br /><br />Then I came home and cruised some news sites. The republicans have gotten away with it. Again. I'm about to speak to the democrats, so I hope I can be forgiven for all my effluent.<br /><br />Democrats...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">FUCK YOU.</span></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><br /><br />You spineless, whimpering, toads. You excrement. For the first time in a long time I'm madder at you than I am at the republicans. You shit-for-guts useless backstabbing weasels. All the support I gave you, all the times I defended you against the ridiculous accusations of "both parties are the same," all the ways that I can prove that what's going on is going to kill the country, all the ways that the hypocrisy on the right is so blatant, obvious, and fucking out-and-out stupid... You still do this. You give them what they want. At a time when most of the country was supporting you in saying that the republican debt was the REPUBLICANS fault, that holding the country hostage and playing this dangerous game was bad for the right and made the left look reasonable, when the entire world was waiting on pins and needles because our ridiculous, unsustainable form of economy is somehow a linchpin for the rest of the world's money systems, when... FUCK. Does it even matter to you anymore?<br /><br />You were elected because you said you were DIFFERENT than them! You wanted to champion causes that helped EVERYONE, not just the top five percent. I can't believe I believed in you. Sure, you lost the majority in the house in 2010, but that's because of idiots like Glenn Beck and the people who follow him. They're upset that the white house isn't white anymore. FUCK THEM. They're a fringe element with a very loud voice. They're idiots. They don't want the government to touch their entitlements that the government gives them. You really want people with that kind of cognitive dissonance in their heads rushing to the head of a major political party? No you do not. <br /><br />Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you FUCK YOU!!!!!<br /><br />I am so sick of living in a country that's run by the elite who say they're down to earth on behalf of the down to earth who say that they're elite! THE WAY THINGS ARE HAPPENING ISN'T WORKING. THE ONLY THING TO DO NOW IS CHANGE IT. THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DIFFICULT CONCEPT... PLEASE ADJUST YOUR METHODS.<br /><br />Capitulating isn't working. When Boehner says "move closer to us and we'll move as well" he means "move closer to us and we'll move farther away from you." If you're not gonna use your fucking brains and learn that 1.) The whole world thinks we're complete morons; 2.) The whole world is terrified of the little political games you keep letting the right win; 3.) We're the only industrialized country whose quality of life is on the whole miserable and getting worse; 4.) We've tried this "tiny government" thing before in the early 1900's and it led to some of the worst decades our country has experienced; 5.) IF WE DON'T START TRYING TO MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE SOON WE'RE NOT GONNA HAVE MUCH OF A WORLD LEFT!!!!!, then please step down and let the republicans hurry up and destroy the country. I'm almost done with this shit. I'll continue to vote for you... despite the evidence, you have the most power to get the whole thing straightened out, but I'll be voting for you drunk. Because like an anonymous, drunk screw, doing it will fill me with shame and regret almost immediately afterwards. Why?<br /><br />Because fuck you, that's why.<br /><br />Song of teh post: Eve of Destruction, by Barry McGuire<br />Hope of teh post: Hope? Don't make me laugh. My throat is sore from screaming.Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-87388121211754319282011-07-29T07:45:00.004-06:002011-07-29T08:27:09.486-06:00Literally the bible... part 2<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG2J_BpxA-IuiB567rLVNXY7F3EWfUcds8aJw-2enH_aWA6e-r4aipEqKZ__lmEKdH1WJfsSeaBtg04HXsrH2qjNYIS7J0dtwh86_WF9D62Yu-oTBYCfL9aRZeFtNZejIEuXHC2Bv_bIQ/s1600/tumblr_lkc1emOCHk1qel49ao1_500.gif.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG2J_BpxA-IuiB567rLVNXY7F3EWfUcds8aJw-2enH_aWA6e-r4aipEqKZ__lmEKdH1WJfsSeaBtg04HXsrH2qjNYIS7J0dtwh86_WF9D62Yu-oTBYCfL9aRZeFtNZejIEuXHC2Bv_bIQ/s400/tumblr_lkc1emOCHk1qel49ao1_500.gif.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634770998991240290" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Oh man... Here we go again...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">GENESIS, CH. 2 (New International Version)</span><br /><br /><br /><sup style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="versenum" id="en-NIV-32">1</sup><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> Thus the heavens and the earth were completed in all their vast array.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">So, we left off with the earth all done n' shit.</span><br /></span><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-33">2</sup> By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work.<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Because being all powerful and able to do anything at all at any time is exhausting. Wait... what?</span><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-34">3</sup> Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Ok, the nap He took makes us have to grovel in churches and sing hymns in boring, monotone fashion? I'm jumping ahead here, forgive me (hehehe, like he has a choice!)</span><br /></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </span><sup style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="versenum" id="en-NIV-35">4</sup><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> This is the account of the heavens and the earth when they were created, when the LORD God made the earth and the heavens.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">But we went through this last chapter! How would your book sell if the second chapter was just the characters saying things like "remember how we used to ..." and then recounting the entire thing?</span><br /></span><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-36">5</sup> Now no shrub had yet appeared on the earth<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-36a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Genesis+2&version=NIV#fen-NIV-36a" title="See footnote a"></a></sup> and no plant had yet sprung up, for the LORD God had not sent rain on the earth and there was no one to work the ground, </span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">But he made the water before the land. That's what happened in the previous chapter, isn't it?</span><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-37">6</sup> but streams<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-37b" title="See footnote b">b</a>]"></sup> came up from the earth and watered the whole surface of the ground. </span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-38"><span style="font-style: italic;">Sigh...</span><br /></sup></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-38">7</sup> Then the LORD God formed a man<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-38c" title="See footnote c">c</a>]"></sup> from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Ok, on a side note here, if we extrapolate this, we can assume that once a person starts breathing, they have been fully created. Ergo, life starts at the first breath and not at conception. This leaves the abortion debate a moot point. Fetuses don't breathe. But I'm getting ahead of myself again. So man was made of mud and had the breath of life breathed into him by god. I wonder what god's breath smelled like. I'm picturing pepper and mangoes, but I'm just guessing.</span><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-39">8</sup> Now the LORD God had planted a garden in the east, in Eden; and there he put the man he had formed. </span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-40"><span style="font-style: italic;">So man was originally created as a landscaper.</span><br /></sup></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-40">9</sup> The LORD God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground—trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food. In the middle of the garden were the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">So the tree of life and the tree of knowledge were separate trees? What happens if you eat from both trees? Would you live forever and know the difference between good and evil? If so, you'd be a damn sight cooler than you are now. What were you thinking? Idiot... next time eat BOTH fruit!</span><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-41">10</sup> A river watering the garden flowed from Eden; from there it was separated into four headwaters. </span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-42"><span style="font-style: italic;">Ok, we have our first bit of geography. Rivers flowed from Eden. </span><br /></sup></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-42">11</sup> The name of the first is the Pishon; it winds through the entire land of Havilah, where there is gold. </span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">I feel like a Hardy boy! "Ok, we have a place where four rivers diverge and there's a lot of gold!"</span><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-43">12</sup> (The gold of that land is good; aromatic resin<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-43d" title="See footnote d">d</a>]"></sup> and onyx are also there.) </span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-44"><span style="font-style: italic;">"Now we have even more information! This mystery will solve itself in no time!"</span><br /></sup></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-44">13</sup> The name of the second river is the Gihon; it winds through the entire land of Cush.<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-44e" title="See footnote e">e</a>]"></sup> </span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Pfft... No... I won't... Can't... Will not compare ZZ Top to the bible... Can't stop... <span style="font-weight: bold;">I said lord take me downtown, I'm just lookin' for some Cush</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">!</span><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-45">14</sup> The name of the third river is the Tigris; it runs along the east side of Ashur. And the fourth river is the Euphrates.<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Now we can find out where it is. I am so gonna find this place! And build a Wal-Mart!</span><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-46">15</sup> The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it. </span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"And don't sleep with my wife like the last landscaper did! Had to send him and the entire staff to hell!"</span><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-47">16</sup> And the LORD God commanded the man, “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; </span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-48"><span style="font-style: italic;">"Ok... Where's the bacon tree?"</span><br /></sup></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-48">17</sup> but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die.”<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"Sounds legit. Don't eat the poisoned stuff. I sure hope someone doesn't come along and tempts me into eating the fruit... that person would doom their entire group to millenia of suffering and oppression at the hands of the group of people who were stupid enough to fall for it! Imagine how THAT would be!"</span><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-49">18</sup> The LORD God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.”<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"For I am sick of seeing him shagging the dog."</span><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-50">19</sup> Now the LORD God had formed out of the ground all the wild animals and all the birds in the sky. He brought them to the man to see what he would name them; and whatever the man called each living creature, that was its name. </span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-51"><span style="font-style: italic;">"Australopithicus aferensis, Australopithicus africanus, Homo habilus, Homo heidelbergensis, Homo erectus, and Homo neanderthalus, We don't need you anymore, thanks. The line for extinction forms on the left."</span><br /></sup></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-51">20</sup> So the man gave names to all the livestock, the birds in the sky and all the wild animals. But for Adam<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-51f" title="See footnote f">f</a>]"></sup> no suitable helper was found. </span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-52"><span style="font-style: italic;">"Dammit! Who's gonna make me sammiches and open my beer?"</span><br /></sup></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-52">21</sup> So the LORD God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man’s ribs<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-52g" title="See footnote g">g</a>]"></sup> and then closed up the place with flesh. </span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Yeah, my frat buddies did that to me at the pledge week, too. They also drew a dick on my forehead. (Just kidding, I'd never join a fraternity!)</span><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-53">22</sup> Then the LORD God made a woman from the rib<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-53h" title="See footnote h">h</a>]"></sup> he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"So finally my sticky-outy bit won't be so confusing!"</span><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-54">23</sup> The man said, </span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"> “This is now bone of my bones<br /> and flesh of my flesh;<br />she shall be called ‘woman,’<br /> for she was taken out of man.”<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">See that!? Who gave the original gift of life? Just 'cause you women do it now doesn't mean that we haven't in the past! It was our idea! Bro-burned</span>!<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-55">24</sup> That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh.<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">... Ew.</span><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-56">25</sup> Adam and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Because they were HAWT!</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">Stay tuned because next time Eve screws it all up. Leave it to a woman...<br /></span></p>Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-14104456646388623042011-07-28T13:35:00.008-06:002011-07-28T13:57:40.851-06:00Acrophonology and me...According to the website "Acrophonology and You" at (http://www.acrophonology.net/acroprog.php), my full name is not an accident. My name was either given to me by fates or I was shaped by my given name (it doesn't specify... I'm going with the second though. Seems more valid (gigglesnort)). In either case, I typed my name in the bars (only first, middle and last were available... what about Prince? Madonna? William Thomas Jefferson Clinton?) and got the following... (I'm not dumb enough to put my full name on my blog... what are you, crazy?)<br /><br /><table style="width: 612px; height: 398px;"><tbody><tr><td><b>"****</b>-You have a need to communicate and express yourself. You are inclined to over intellectualize, and hate to be misquoted. You enjoy a challenge. You can take thought-directed actions. You are relatively demonstrative in your affections. You enjoy being stroked verbally and physically. You are clever, inventive, imaginative and youthful. You enjoy socializing. </td> </tr> <tr><td><br /></td></tr> <tr> <td> <b>********</b>-Your privacy is important to you. You have a rich inner life. You enjoy make-believe and fantasy. It is hard for you to forget injustices. You work hard to achieve material success through your own efforts. It is important to you that you make your own way in the world. You have a great deal of loyalty to those you love. You have much inner strength. You tend to be private and secretive. You can handle details well. You have a methodical mind. You can go to extremes in all you do. You can be quite inventive and quite curious. Your use of reason and logic is strong. You enjoy communicating. Your independence and freedom are important to you. You will work long and hard to attain your goals. You are not a quitter. </td> </tr> <tr><td><br /></td></tr> <tr> <td> <b>****</b>-You are an 11th hour person, always succeeding just in the nick of time. The lesson of money is prominent in your life. You have a diplomatic flair to your nature. Equality and fairness are important to you. You enjoy socializing and entertaining. You must learn the lessons of self-worth; learn to love yourself before you can love others."<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Standard vague tosh that any other practitioner of the "alternative" arts and awareness will charge you a hundred bucks a session for. But then I got an idea. Let's play a little game!<br /><br />Who is this...<br /><table width="90%"><tbody><tr><td><b>********</b>-You are an overly sensitive person, often falling into a savior-martyr role. You are very skeptical and have more than your share of bad luck. You work hard to achieve material success through your own efforts. You can be quite inventive and quite curious. You have a great deal of loyalty to those you love. You have much inner strength. You have a discriminate nature coupled with perseverance and family pride. You need to learn flexibility. You enjoy a challenge. You can take thought-directed actions. You need to learn to be expressive. You are a person who cannot tolerate being misunderstood. </td> </tr> <tr><td><br /></td></tr> <tr> <td> <b>******</b>-You make impersonal decisions quickly, but not so with personal concerns. You like to think things over carefully, but tend to be indecisive. You are a constructive thinker. You have a need for monetary security. You can be very practical, down-to-earth and trustworthy. You can be quite inventive and quite curious. Your use of reason and logic is strong. You enjoy communicating. You enjoy a challenge. You can take thought-directed actions. You can be assertive and aggressive when the occasion arises. Your privacy is important to you. You have a rich inner life. You enjoy make-believe and fantasy. It is hard for you to forget injustices. </td> </tr> <tr><td><br /></td></tr> <tr> <td> <b>******</b>-You are a quick study, and can be self-taught. Your curiosity can get the best of you, but you must learn to concentrate. You have high aspirations and a cheery disposition. You have a great deal of pride. You enjoy being on center stage. You can be quite inventive and quite curious. Your use of reason and logic is strong. You enjoy communicating. You have a diplomatic flair to your nature. Equality and fairness are important to you. You enjoy socializing and entertaining. You must learn the lessons of self-worth; learn to love yourself before you can love others. You enjoy socializing and entertaining. </td> </tr> </tbody></table><br />Give up?<br />It's this guy.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk09_33dtIQ4p_vAn0CZpzId1pr1ssIuY0kdLquRV_kFycq3yPNRGZj4rIdE4v6xkwTLX-ugCEyz1c72w_bZBjy_JcIqbB3Uls6WbtZFR7t_6mEjYpKK9n9Yjuk-ExpwSEQF_uidtQBYU/s1600/1420.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 308px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk09_33dtIQ4p_vAn0CZpzId1pr1ssIuY0kdLquRV_kFycq3yPNRGZj4rIdE4v6xkwTLX-ugCEyz1c72w_bZBjy_JcIqbB3Uls6WbtZFR7t_6mEjYpKK9n9Yjuk-ExpwSEQF_uidtQBYU/s400/1420.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634490625436528674" border="0" /></a><br />Yeah, that's right... it's Ted Bundy. His given name was Theodore Robert Cowell. I especially like the bit about "You can be very practical, down-to-earth and trustworthy. You can be quite inventive and quite curious. Your use of reason and logic is strong."<br /><br />Gigglesnort again.<br /><br />Ok, one more... Who is this?<br /><br /><table width="90%"><tbody><tr><td><b>******</b>-You are an 11th hour person, always succeeding just in the nick of time. The lesson of money is prominent in your life. You can be quite inventive and quite curious. You enjoy a challenge. You can take thought-directed actions. You are always involved with projects and things to do. You have much enthusiasm with a driving attitude toward achievement in life. You can handle details well. You have a methodical mind. </td> </tr> <tr><td><br /></td></tr> <tr> <td> <b>*******</b>-Take advantage of all opportunities. You must develop your creativity and talents. You are determined to prove yourself to others. You have a diplomatic flair to your nature. Equality and fairness are important to you. You work hard to achieve material success through your own efforts. You can be quite inventive and quite curious. You must learn the lessons of self-worth; learn to love yourself before you can love others. You are always involved with projects and things to do. </td> </tr> <tr><td><br /></td></tr> <tr> <td> <b>*******</b>-You strive for perfection and worry when things don't turn out just so. You enjoy doing a job well. You tend to procrastinate. You can be quite inventive and quite curious. Your use of reason and logic is strong. You enjoy communicating. You enjoy a challenge. You can take thought-directed actions. You can be assertive and aggressive when the occasion arises. You are relatively demonstrative in your affections. You enjoy being stroked verbally and physically. You take pleasure in your creative comforts. You can handle details well. You have a methodical mind. You can go to extremes in all you do. You are a hard worker when you make up your mind to do a job. You are curious and you enjoy rapping with friends. </td></tr></tbody></table><br />It's this guy...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ3ySTjcRGKX3VFOboxMk3VK1fKxp_iuFHtHbKogUzwFI0JX3YV4N6UhzJj2d0K7tdp3G7Je-RbnqyFCYNRrfITofuc9XYsAfq3mxQZRl7phM-sYwVoKy1yPwkXylKRe_UakWG6VgEzaU/s1600/Hermann-Goering.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 282px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ3ySTjcRGKX3VFOboxMk3VK1fKxp_iuFHtHbKogUzwFI0JX3YV4N6UhzJj2d0K7tdp3G7Je-RbnqyFCYNRrfITofuc9XYsAfq3mxQZRl7phM-sYwVoKy1yPwkXylKRe_UakWG6VgEzaU/s400/Hermann-Goering.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634491578420156930" border="0" /></a>Herman Goering, Reichsmarschall of the Nazi Regime and Hitler's second in command.<br /><br />How about one more tiny morsel...<br /><br /><table width="90%"><tbody><tr><td><b>*****</b>-You have a tendency to resist change. Don't miss opportunities for growth. You have a love of creature comforts, but must learn to handle money. You can be quite inventive and quite curious. You have a diplomatic flair to your nature. Equality and fairness are important to you. You must learn the lessons of self-worth; learn to love yourself before you can love others. You need to learn to be expressive. You are a person who cannot tolerate being misunderstood. </td> </tr> <tr><td><br /></td></tr> <tr> <td> <b>********</b>-Status is important to you and your ability to achieve success and earn money. You have a need to be noticed and seek status. You enjoy a challenge. You can take thought-directed actions. You can be assertive and aggressive when the occasion arises. You can be quite inventive and quite curious. Your use of reason and logic is strong. You enjoy communicating. You can handle details well. You have a methodical mind. You can go to extremes in all you do. You try to be prudent. You have good business acumen. You want to be self-supporting. You have a sensuous nature, which you do not openly show. You have a great deal of loyalty to those you love. You have much inner strength. You tend to be private and secretive. You must learn to give 'wise' service and not be a martyr. You can go to extremes in all you do. </td> </tr> <tr><td><br /></td></tr> <tr> <td> <b>*******</b>-You strive for perfection and worry when things don't turn out just so. You enjoy doing a job well. You tend to procrastinate. You can handle details well. You have a methodical mind. You can go to extremes in all you do. You must learn to give 'wise' service and not be a martyr. You can be quite inventive and quite curious. Your use of reason and logic is strong. You enjoy communicating. You try to be prudent. You have good business acumen. You want to be self-supporting. You have a sensuous nature, which you do not openly show. You have a need to earn money to prove your success to society and must learn the true value of material gains and status. You want to be self-supporting. You have a sensuous nature, which you do not openly show.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It's her...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8IGPIxAKlHaX8aAnQvG1UOxEvR9psKGcrUgK0OWhN_8sKiuOcPT775ssBqbRRyhrl3nZVVBex8FFqzF3TAJGLsGN27YfjJtwU38msRmEmGY3CFF4HUSXPG69Vg3RDB6IE8HMOK60qHAU/s1600/belle.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 205px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8IGPIxAKlHaX8aAnQvG1UOxEvR9psKGcrUgK0OWhN_8sKiuOcPT775ssBqbRRyhrl3nZVVBex8FFqzF3TAJGLsGN27YfjJtwU38msRmEmGY3CFF4HUSXPG69Vg3RDB6IE8HMOK60qHAU/s400/belle.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634492987852923154" border="0" /></a>Belle Gunness, American serial killer with a body count of at least 30.<br /><br />Just goes to show you can't judge a book by its cover.<br /><br />Song of teh post: Gary Gilmore's Eyes, by The Adverts<br />Weird juxtaposition of teh post: "You want to be self-supporting" in Belle's description. She attracted men who had money, married them, killed them, fed them to pigs, and then ate the pigs.Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-6368225607473928522011-06-14T07:46:00.005-06:002011-06-14T11:36:45.437-06:00The little things in life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWOjYynV17cCjsP5hf_rr0vggun-dRYC1YVJFrISWGDbreCD-xtec7AmiRsoVIbqsbAFN_BUAQ0uHEFw__21qlsA3J0j23zT9-SqKwGfX_PFKAZf2pZi7HrqS2Dio8SiWDp8EEJ1mhXmY/s1600/istockphoto_5527977-phycho.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 253px; height: 380px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWOjYynV17cCjsP5hf_rr0vggun-dRYC1YVJFrISWGDbreCD-xtec7AmiRsoVIbqsbAFN_BUAQ0uHEFw__21qlsA3J0j23zT9-SqKwGfX_PFKAZf2pZi7HrqS2Dio8SiWDp8EEJ1mhXmY/s400/istockphoto_5527977-phycho.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618089565149557698" border="0" /></a>Sorry about this, but I woke up on the wrong side of someone else's bed this morning. For some reason, today things are really getting on my nerves. So I'mma do it to you...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">The little things in life that will accumulate in my psyche until I become a serial killer (hardly a complete list):<br /></div><br />-Being honestly intrigued about the legalization of certain drugs, the effects that that would have on our culture, economy, and justice areas (prison population in particular), and being very curious about the arguments on both sides of the issue, even though I'm fairly certain I'm for it, then trying to research it and finding most of the websites concerning it are by stoners who can't string a sentence longer than "Legalize it!" together, along with pictures of dried bunches of purple/green leaves.<br /><br />-On a related note, people who justify their drug use as "expanding mind" bull. It seems that they must have a enlightenment based reason for their desire to get high. Just be honest and admit you like getting messed up, not caring for a while, and checking out of your normal state of mind for a bit. Don't make it sound like you're doing this for the good of humankind. Toke, sleep, go back to work. You are not a shaman.<br /><br />-Having to explain that my choice of not usually eating meat doesn't threaten the livelihood of the person I'm in a conversation with, their personal/political views, or their gender identity, nor does it insult them, their mother's name, their favorite color, the shirt they're wearing, or the lineage of us as humans, nor does it make me think I'm superior to them, haughty, stuck up, or better than them. I just don't dig meat most times.<br /><br />-There: a word directing to a place/area<br /> They're: the combination of "They" and "Are"<br /> Their: The plural possessive/ past indefinite antecedent when gender is unknown<br /> Your: a form of the possessive case of "you"/ belonging to someone else<br /> You're: the combination of "You" and "Are<br /> Then: relating to time/ relating to "if/then" indirect relative comparisons<br /> Than: direct comparison<br />If <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">you're</span> an idiot because of <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">your</span> inability to understand the above, <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">then there </span>is a place for you... the nice young men in <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">their </span>clean white coats will be there soon, and <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">they're</span> more gentle to you <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">than </span>I'll ever be.<br /><br />-Phrases that start out "I'm not xxxxxx, but..." because they're invariably xxxxxx.<br /><br />-Preferential treatment of religiosity. Tax exempt status for churches, the obligatory prayer at most meetings, accepting "it's my faith" as a legitimate viewpoint, indoctrination of children, even drug use as legal for those who profess a certain traditional faith. This does nothing but give people a false sense of persecution when it is mentioned that religion should stay out of government/public works.<br /><br />-People who confuse faith and proof. Seeing is believing, but believing is not knowing. Believing is never knowing. Strange, but true.<br /><br />-People who swear an oath of loyalty to a computer brand. "The soulless, faceless, greedy multinational corporation that manufactured my computer in a huge factory overseas is WAY better than the soulless, faceless, greedy multinational corporation that manufactured YOUR computer in a huge factory overseas!!!"<br /><br />-People who complain about how government sucks, will never work right, can't do anything right, and is wholly evil and corrupt who then vote into power people who complain about how government sucks, will never work right, can't do anything right, and are wholly evil and corrupt, who then do their best to make sure that government sucks, will never work right, can't do anything right, and is wholly evil and corrupt.<br /><br />Ahhhh... I feel better.<br /><br />Song of teh post: Wrong Prayer, by Jaydiohead<br />Words of teh post: <span style="font-weight: bold;">Then, Than, Your, You're, Their, They're, There.</span> It's really not that hard.Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-73922510551724208442011-06-07T08:17:00.008-06:002011-06-07T16:53:45.801-06:00Literally the bible... part 1.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn0rTJCxvRrDLpz4XOS9oVQQX2KzxVmJKMvk0PgVrhVQWLRjGbjJ6TZ1ZBVv0YQBIb0pPrAP68YDLTN7Mp1mxkOoWFeyYic9z4mBuk_5qS6puVSiRhaGUPkGD26Qq3DlQQJkPDNz3fwzo/s1600/wpid-0518-kirk-cameron-stephen-hawking-01-480x720.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn0rTJCxvRrDLpz4XOS9oVQQX2KzxVmJKMvk0PgVrhVQWLRjGbjJ6TZ1ZBVv0YQBIb0pPrAP68YDLTN7Mp1mxkOoWFeyYic9z4mBuk_5qS6puVSiRhaGUPkGD26Qq3DlQQJkPDNz3fwzo/s400/wpid-0518-kirk-cameron-stephen-hawking-01-480x720.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615491627781462258" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">(America's foremost creationist recreating his O face... Think about that next time you're feeling romantic...)</span><br /></div><br /><br />I'm not one to disparage the religious beliefs of others (snicker). However, literal biblical interpretation seems to be... ridiculous. After all, if one takes the bible literally, one has to contend not only with the inconsistencies and logical mistakes, one also has to ignore the mountains (literally... Mountains) of evidence that suggests the earth is much, Much, MUCH older than they say it is. However, their defense is to tell me to read the bible as a history book, taking it seriously and using it not as a guide to lead a moral life (which is strange, because there are some things in it that I don't consider moral... at ALL) but as literally as possible. So here we go...<br /><br />GENESIS, CH. 1 (New International Version)<br /><br />1 In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Ok, so far no testable hypotheses, but I'm willing to go along...</span><br /><br />2 Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Hang on a second. If the waters were there, there was a form... the form of oceans. What exactly is meant by this?</span><br /><br />3 And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">From where?</span><br /><br />4 God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Uh... ok.</span><br /><br />5 God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">So that was the first day. How did God know how long a day was without the light? Oh yeah... omniscient.</span><br /><br />6 And God said, “Let there be a vault between the waters to separate water from water.”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">But all the oceans connect with each other. The border that separates the Atlantic from the Pacific is imaginary.</span><br /><br />7 So God made the vault and separated the water under the vault from the water above it. And it was so.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Ok, land, got it...</span><br /><br />8 God called the vault “sky.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the second day.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The vault was sky? So in the beginning the universe was a pool? I don't get it.</span><br /><br />9 And God said, “Let the water under the sky be gathered to one place, and let dry ground appear.” And it was so.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Ok, here's the land. Gotcha. Still don't know where the light came from if the universe was water, though.</span><br /><br />10 God called the dry ground “land,” and the gathered waters he called “seas.” And God saw that it was good.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Ok, so we've separated the water from the air, the land from the water. So far, actually, one could kind of say that this is the way the earth formed... kind of... if you squint really hard.</span><br /><br />11 Then God said, “Let the land produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds.” And it was so.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Woah there, Kemosabe... First of all, what's a "kind?" Second, how did the seed bearing plants survive without insects to pollinate them? Spore release on the wind? That's quite inefficient. Mosses use low flowing water to spawn, and ferns used the whole air/spore deal, but those don't bear fruits... Fruits and seeds are different "kinds" from those other plants. Well, lets keep going...</span><br /><br />12 The land produced vegetation: plants bearing seed according to their kinds and trees bearing fruit with seed in it according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">See the above retort.</span><br /><br />13 And there was evening, and there was morning—the third day.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Ok, so plants, who now are totally reliant on insects for reproduction, were in the beginning completely separate from the insects. Did the fall make god so pissed at everything that the plants needed bugs to crawl along their reproductive organs? That apple was a much bigger deal than we thought.</span><br /><br />14 And God said, “Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years,<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">So god made the seasons AFTER the plants... What?</span><br /><br />15 and let them be lights in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth.” And it was so.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Didn't he already make lights?</span><br /><br />16 God made two great lights—the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night. He also made the stars.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The moon reflects sunlight, it doesn't produce it. And where did the light come from before he made the light later in the week? Is anyone else confused?</span><br /><br />17 God set them in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth,<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Again, confused.</span><br /><br />18 to govern the day and the night, and to separate light from darkness. And God saw that it was good.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I should hope so. The day/night thing involves the rotation of the earth. If we didn't rotate, one area would cook and the other would be void. That would be SERIOUSLY bad planning.</span><br /><br />19 And there was evening, and there was morning—the fourth day.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Ok, three days pass before the days are seperated. Makes perfect sense.</span><br /><br />20 And God said, “Let the water teem with living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the vault of the sky.”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Here's the kicker. God creates creeping life. www.talkorigins.org for a full refutation of this concept.</span><br /><br />21 So God created the great creatures of the sea and every living thing with which the water teems and that moves about in it, according to their kinds, and every winged bird according to its kind. And God saw that it was good.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Hell yeah it's good! We all love chicken fingers, even though they don't fly.</span><br /><br />22 God blessed them and said, “Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the water in the seas, and let the birds increase on the earth.”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">So god needed to tell the critters to do what is needed to reproduce? Did they really need encouragement? I don't.</span><br /><br />23 And there was evening, and there was morning—the fifth day.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">To recap: God creates things all out of order and in strange ways, with no discernible pattern or method other than magic, and humans aren't even in the picture yet, even though we, ostensibly, ARE critters.</span><br /><br />24 And God said, “Let the land produce living creatures according to their kinds: the livestock, the creatures that move along the ground, and the wild animals, each according to its kind.” And it was so.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Wait... livestock and other animals are of a separate group of "kinds" from the birds and the sea-critters? What kind of weirdness is this? And did the land produce them or did god create them?</span><br /><br />25 God made the wild animals according to their kinds, the livestock according to their kinds, and all the creatures that move along the ground according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Ok, so far god made chicken fingers before hamburgers, but included puppies with hamburgers (metaphorically speaking). Should we eat puppies? I'll try it... but I'm skeptical.</span><br /><br /><br />26 Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">So god makes man out of "their" image. I'm sure he means the angels, but you try to get something this vague past Scientific American. Also, "rule over" doesn't really mean "eat," although that would have made medieval England much more interesting...</span><br /><br />27 So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Good. At least both men and women get equal dominion over the world! Think about how it would be if just MEN had the power!</span><br /><br />28 God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Once again, I know that I don't need any encouragement...</span><br /><br />29 Then God said, “I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">God wanted us to be vegetarian. Sweet!</span><br /><br />30 And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food.” And it was so.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Ok, so lions, with their sharp, pointy teeth, sharks, with their MANY sharp pointy teeth, and raptors, with their scary, MANY sharp pointy teeth, were supposed to be veggies. I've never seen a meat plant. But maybe I just haven't looked hard enough.</span><br /><br />31 God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">In less than a week... If we're made in "their" image, why can't I get my house cleaned in an hour, much less create universes in a week?</span><br /><br />Stay tuned for next time, when we take all that above stuff... and contradict it.Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-75296510326281885572011-05-26T09:48:00.013-06:002011-05-26T10:37:47.504-06:00Holy Bull Crap<span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">How the thought processes should have gone down...</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsGTjnwyX1VhBOEV3XkG5caL_D_xB3TJBEoerSBa0xCvvtmnMC4Cz5W90oNvAwF09OJyWTKCH2fC1y6P5lC05WRtJB_YlySVarN7P0KbPjVpFKtQKj_t3yIRdkojWKwy47Vq0xJJajWg4/s1600/rage.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 241px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsGTjnwyX1VhBOEV3XkG5caL_D_xB3TJBEoerSBa0xCvvtmnMC4Cz5W90oNvAwF09OJyWTKCH2fC1y6P5lC05WRtJB_YlySVarN7P0KbPjVpFKtQKj_t3yIRdkojWKwy47Vq0xJJajWg4/s400/rage.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611052734632979074" border="0" /></a><br />What happened? They all said it would happen yesterday! The math... the whole deal with the disasters... What happened?<br /><br />I mean, I sold all my possessions. All of them. My kids... oh no... They won't have anything! I quit my job, severed my connections, I even told my friends that I wouldn't be seeing them until after all this is over... Was he wrong?<br /><br />He must have been wrong. How could he have been wrong? The math all added up! The whole thing... with heaven as 17... Was he wrong?<br /><br />Was the bible wrong?<br /><br />No! That's ridiculous! It's the word of God, written by Him... through men. Fallible men. Men like Harold. What is going on? Why am I thinking like this!?!? Surely this is a test! That's it! A test! Of my faith! After all, it may not be a bad thing. Sure! The world is a pretty neat place. It's like... the second best thing after the rapture, after all! I do like cheeseburgers. Are there cheeseburgers in heaven? Didn't Jimmy Buffet sing a song like that?<br /><br />What am I doing!? This is ridiculous! The rapture didn't happen... This is the worst day of my life! Now all I have is this awful universe! What a horrible thing!<br /><br />Wait. I just said that the universe wasn't enough. What kind of person does that?<br /><br />Someone who has been fooled into wanting more than the universe can offer.<br /><br />I've been fooled.<br /><br />I've been fooled by that ancient, persistently wrong false prophet. What the hell? What else was wrong about what he said?<br /><br />He said he was actually interpreting the bible correctly. I've read the bible. I've looked at what he showed me. It made sense at the time.<br /><br />Maybe the bible <span style="font-style:italic;">was</span> wrong.<br /><br />Could that be? Should I have put all my faith in one person... in one book?<br /><br />Where is that book... I'm gonna read it again... I wanna read it for myself...<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">How the thought process actually went down...</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqYWrZF9lqnlAb8t1fZ9XHJzYoutey5XnZiBMAUR-7gLRZA6iXgiMAXuzYA9xW5m26PzuNzaJL-5G-kctjK-ba1Za4FGFwsBJe-7Zjh9WA9TlOujyxAHZOghrdLFzP98FXlc36ty9Gsw/s1600/the_complet_collection_of_rage_faces_09.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 231px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqYWrZF9lqnlAb8t1fZ9XHJzYoutey5XnZiBMAUR-7gLRZA6iXgiMAXuzYA9xW5m26PzuNzaJL-5G-kctjK-ba1Za4FGFwsBJe-7Zjh9WA9TlOujyxAHZOghrdLFzP98FXlc36ty9Gsw/s400/the_complet_collection_of_rage_faces_09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611059257938313330" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style=" font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >NAW, DOOD! S'ALL GOOD! WE ALL GONNA DIE SOON! DON WORRY, MR. NON-BELEEVER! I GOT THIS! U TOTALLY NOT GONNA SERVIVE THE NECKS TIME!!!</span></span><br /><br />And I'm all...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbC1EsGm3iuybQQ9FymXF3xPJ7ZreLQXd3TETNMhJgfUIHJYrYRjZ7GAZ06Bd0mlQaK5K1rzw-9o_nWUKSaddRzPoFM5FhUwtPaGuGb6R9lXksup0faWABgPp3X3bcrluuuD79R2f254A/s1600/What.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbC1EsGm3iuybQQ9FymXF3xPJ7ZreLQXd3TETNMhJgfUIHJYrYRjZ7GAZ06Bd0mlQaK5K1rzw-9o_nWUKSaddRzPoFM5FhUwtPaGuGb6R9lXksup0faWABgPp3X3bcrluuuD79R2f254A/s400/What.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611062326952242466" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And they're all...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLvX10ElNNi7Ph_r6WOXi_vg-2v8U-LtsAbr3i06Vd-fyOD1bzQkF6vE5C-sk21d8OzQBeTn9Vv285EnYrLxYLBD9TP3EwTYC2-wX28HBK4PV9Phe7hcPGPL0Ea6DgxUzn8PiV4O3KW74/s1600/lol-face.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 280px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLvX10ElNNi7Ph_r6WOXi_vg-2v8U-LtsAbr3i06Vd-fyOD1bzQkF6vE5C-sk21d8OzQBeTn9Vv285EnYrLxYLBD9TP3EwTYC2-wX28HBK4PV9Phe7hcPGPL0Ea6DgxUzn8PiV4O3KW74/s400/lol-face.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611059979168376898" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And I'm all...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsLb0ldhNRV5xsNXlcuwSc3wxpPdBZbR28zFsaZQvNOImV-RRLtsnR6i_ql15VP4fY9gBHrMcfFJX-MF32sx_cl22o26D_UMqc5pfZxHO77qNn3EmRa8IAL3HQRh9p_rMcyIjQJwC6MN0/s1600/index.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsLb0ldhNRV5xsNXlcuwSc3wxpPdBZbR28zFsaZQvNOImV-RRLtsnR6i_ql15VP4fY9gBHrMcfFJX-MF32sx_cl22o26D_UMqc5pfZxHO77qNn3EmRa8IAL3HQRh9p_rMcyIjQJwC6MN0/s400/index.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611060147147818786" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And they're all...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtD5qdOS1q3-o9MZ-VWPPwNe66lcRPGvMeagDTbm-F8LMQGjwYJq6-o3mIQTRuLfsLlm2Y8O_yjYGVPl9NJl-wqDmfLXnsP-qmwnxNpRqtp9x6D3qVV5viG7TXqkf89dGXWMzYF2aSTDM/s1600/ExcitedTroll.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 132px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtD5qdOS1q3-o9MZ-VWPPwNe66lcRPGvMeagDTbm-F8LMQGjwYJq6-o3mIQTRuLfsLlm2Y8O_yjYGVPl9NJl-wqDmfLXnsP-qmwnxNpRqtp9x6D3qVV5viG7TXqkf89dGXWMzYF2aSTDM/s400/ExcitedTroll.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611062844161578690" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >BELEEVE WIT ME BRO!!!</span><br /><br />And I'm all...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3hiRCCi_V38F7as4b4GicasDEfEMOHY5eNldr8yPC943fOyFDvDUsefz43JGu0ILW5Q3oeo_dYrSf4oB28nTe9Z29JKqUX8HWUFxtfp1EPtulwkxrmbWtXf0T9lq2iwVU52m4Gm5yaUc/s1600/NotOkay.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 128px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3hiRCCi_V38F7as4b4GicasDEfEMOHY5eNldr8yPC943fOyFDvDUsefz43JGu0ILW5Q3oeo_dYrSf4oB28nTe9Z29JKqUX8HWUFxtfp1EPtulwkxrmbWtXf0T9lq2iwVU52m4Gm5yaUc/s400/NotOkay.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611063591435520866" /></a><br />WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!? YOU WANT THE WORLD TO END! YOU WANT EVERYONE IN THE WORLD TO DIE!!!!<br /><br />And they're all...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvosNFkTyCWC-SSvhqWhMGrCvyqGx5gthhLyrm9RVLhYyMnJdAwZbUe4-39FqUUya9J_KOUqX9Hnxm3OI-dRqqigwQVxZCAOhZm67vxhTPDyrFRMqjUGjPMam1qfRa9IZc-f55g6zs4Y/s1600/MeGusta.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvosNFkTyCWC-SSvhqWhMGrCvyqGx5gthhLyrm9RVLhYyMnJdAwZbUe4-39FqUUya9J_KOUqX9Hnxm3OI-dRqqigwQVxZCAOhZm67vxhTPDyrFRMqjUGjPMam1qfRa9IZc-f55g6zs4Y/s400/MeGusta.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611063933220994226" /></a><br />Mmmmm... Me gusta apocalypse...<br /><br />And I'm finally all...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRPb0OovYIf08ay0jb9ZKgyFm1wNrDU_SsAJKtvCsF68hLaKNL4F9_Hmj0vwNFcTy0BSsrQQm5w8ZvqlBsbSEnTVKpNwFXCjRea0DpwC9MkYjGlKjcPtuoM9q5FtSPunIOzr0WlbJr9vo/s1600/RageFace.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 335px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRPb0OovYIf08ay0jb9ZKgyFm1wNrDU_SsAJKtvCsF68hLaKNL4F9_Hmj0vwNFcTy0BSsrQQm5w8ZvqlBsbSEnTVKpNwFXCjRea0DpwC9MkYjGlKjcPtuoM9q5FtSPunIOzr0WlbJr9vo/s400/RageFace.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611064201271478018" /></a><br /><br />Song of teh post: Sonny's Burning, by The Birthday Party<br />New day of teh dead of teh post: October, 21, 2011Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-52196657626382735322011-05-09T19:24:00.010-06:002011-05-09T19:59:49.163-06:00Tomorrow is International Monty Python day...<span style="font-family:times new roman;">And I shall celebrate the best way I know how... I will post my 3 favorite Monty Python sketches. Now, some like Python for the absurdity (I know I do) and some like it for the absurdity (I'm not really one of them). But I like it because it's subversive. Subversive in the true meaning of the word... </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" >Subversion (be-eng toe-tah-lee ah-sum): </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" class="ssens" >a systematic attempt to overthrow or undermine a system of belief or political system by perso</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" class="ssens" >ns working secretly from within. </span><span class="ssens" style="font-family:times new roman;">What Python did wasn't just reorganize what comedy could be, they created a para</span><span class="ssens" style="font-family:times new roman;">digm shift away from the norm and towards something bigger than the premise/punchline joke, while poking fun at the established system. I know, I probably put too much on it... But WTF? I've been drinking. I took my last final this morning and I'm already a few Modelo Especials into the evening... Here are my favorite sketches, the ones that puncture the pomposity of the people who presume to be perfect... Ah am soooo good at the alliterations...<br /><br />Anyway, these aren't my only favorites, just the ones that make me hopeful for human kind...<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Brian's followers... just don't get it.</span> <span class="ssens" style="font-family:times new roman;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPZ9onsz-CODPBaDMc51KwxusOD9pRgLO_9yq0O3Xx8WzLHN63jH5ApNgHMW2LtJ0dtDYlF-3jcUz5YZhi6m724haqKNIsoBYST9EYjwNdhSFKp4Qp4-qZfSIKbKA4aTJDVr1VRUiO0To/s1600/14762.png.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPZ9onsz-CODPBaDMc51KwxusOD9pRgLO_9yq0O3Xx8WzLHN63jH5ApNgHMW2LtJ0dtDYlF-3jcUz5YZhi6m724haqKNIsoBYST9EYjwNdhSFKp4Qp4-qZfSIKbKA4aTJDVr1VRUiO0To/s400/14762.png.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604895004367903682" border="0" /></a></span></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ym-k5viJ7tA">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ym-k5viJ7tA</a><br /><span class="ssens" style="font-family:times new roman;"> This is what religion is like... If you don't agree, look to your own religion and follow the traces of the splits and reformations and awakenings and whatever. If you don't understand that people worship religion far more often than they worship their god... Then watch that clip until you get it. <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Those were the days...</span><br /><span class="ssens"><span class="ssens"><span class="ssens"><span class="ssens"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZ6dwYq3K8UcBnj7qvcozcKrkrKvJ9DIEJqm8oI9ge9vRhMPnGVAT2Wu3nzn24VFj8hrKoYM15neUZI9_XKSJSbqdPpXkC8yJhW0QMcBQtI5My2fraUPjMfnUDbY9UEV9YlFEB0BXS5g/s1600/The-Monty-Python-team-try-001.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZ6dwYq3K8UcBnj7qvcozcKrkrKvJ9DIEJqm8oI9ge9vRhMPnGVAT2Wu3nzn24VFj8hrKoYM15neUZI9_XKSJSbqdPpXkC8yJhW0QMcBQtI5My2fraUPjMfnUDbY9UEV9YlFEB0BXS5g/s400/The-Monty-Python-team-try-001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604896003152610498" border="0" /></a></span></span></span></span></span><span class="ssens" style="font-family:times new roman;"><br /></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xe1a1wHxTyo">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xe1a1wHxTyo</a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="ssens" style="font-family:times new roman;">If you get this, you either despise the mentality or agree with the sentiment. Being gray around the temples and upset about the youth of today... Well, here's a quote...</span> <pre style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">"The children now love luxury; they have bad manners, contempt for</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">of exercise. Children are now tyrants, not the servants of their</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">households. They no longer rise when elders enter the room. They</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up dainties</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">at the table, cross their legs, and tyrannize their teachers."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">That was attributed to Socrates by Plato. And our species is still around...<br />Hmm... I wonder if its just BS, this "kids today" thing...</span><br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">The Birth of the Libertarian Movement...</span></span><br /><br /><span class="ssens"><span class="ssens"><span class="ssens"><span class="ssens"><span class="ssens"><span class="ssens"><span class="ssens" style="font-family:times new roman;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje-4-TAe1VaFNXEOaag3lps5iuo_pvTacYbxapIy6TCDhwMFO30FPISw9q_LzsbyFDOXEpL0ZAbd6-BI_CrHsHIV7sl08v9jTHe-_iBDCyeb4Hq9aMFwWB4sZc1Dud3SDG9ftlu1RxjU4/s1600/3711439_std.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 360px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje-4-TAe1VaFNXEOaag3lps5iuo_pvTacYbxapIy6TCDhwMFO30FPISw9q_LzsbyFDOXEpL0ZAbd6-BI_CrHsHIV7sl08v9jTHe-_iBDCyeb4Hq9aMFwWB4sZc1Dud3SDG9ftlu1RxjU4/s400/3711439_std.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604898769252985570" border="0" /></a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br /></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExWfh6sGyso">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExWfh6sGyso</a><br /><br />I really don't think I need to say another fucking word...<br /><br />Song of teh post: Always Look on the Bright Side of Life<br />Sketch I want played at my funeral of the post:<br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWWg5shNWR4">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWWg5shNWR4</a></pre></div><span class="ssens"><br /></span>Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-27554734115266705912011-03-26T20:09:00.003-06:002011-03-26T20:49:18.895-06:00My first time into poetry, dear readers...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtjE4PtKwkGgVYUgwxa36x18VEep4-L9fO_qOa2zbZVekFIk1L5GocBSBXTFNb4EPULsDZDzjcYPDvhg2XbS1OEJLSydUyA-0wNpBN2SCwVTYNXoiGq3ZqvOaa9usVUGVBo0KwA2R_fC4/s1600/istockphoto_14022605-romantic-lover.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 380px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtjE4PtKwkGgVYUgwxa36x18VEep4-L9fO_qOa2zbZVekFIk1L5GocBSBXTFNb4EPULsDZDzjcYPDvhg2XbS1OEJLSydUyA-0wNpBN2SCwVTYNXoiGq3ZqvOaa9usVUGVBo0KwA2R_fC4/s400/istockphoto_14022605-romantic-lover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588580555086015426" border="0" /></a><br />I've only written, like, three poems in my life. I've always been way too angry at life in general, and the people who write poetry in particular, to give much of a damn. However, with my haiku project and the ability to express the anger and seething hatred I have in me, I figured why not? I could be a dark poet. An angry little screaming mouse in a world full of hungry cats. The following poem I've called "Modern Life Ten Miles Away," and it should be read in full shout.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Drugs?<br />Fuck yeah!<br />What kind?<br />Whatchoo got?<br />Meth?<br />CHRIST YES!<br />Here ya go!<br />What's it made of?<br />No idea.<br />What's it got in it?<br />Who knows?<br />How pure is it?<br />All I know is that the guys who made it<br />are dead.<br />FUCK! WHY DOES IT BURN!?<br />Battery acid? Dead babies? Aryan hate?<br />Jesus! You have anything to calm me down?<br /><br />How bout some weed?<br />Homegrown?<br />None other!<br />Where was it grown?<br />Its my own shit.<br />Yeah, but where was it grown?<br />I grew it in my own shit.<br />Are you serious?<br />Yeah...<br />Never fucking mind.<br /><br />Ok, got any pills?<br />What kind?<br />Painkillers.<br />I got morphine, methadone, oxycontin, hydrocodone,<br />dilaudid, oxymorphone, fentanyl, tramodol, percoset,<br />demerol, lorcet, lortab, percodan<br />and seventeen different colors of vicodin.<br />That's all?<br />Well if you want the strong stuff I'll have to call my guy.<br />Don't want to put you out, dude.<br />It's ok, I just need to get the fucking phone to stop moving.<br />What you on?<br />Enough mushrooms to choke a Whargarble.<br />What's a whargarble?<br />What's a what?<br />Huh?<br />Beer?<br />Yeah...<br /><br />Fuck this place.<br />Only America<br />could dream up a place<br />like rural Kentucky.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Song of teh post: Where Eagles Dare, by The Misfits (No soy maldito hijo de puta!)<br />Poet of the post: Bill Hicks<br /></div></div>Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-54839091179580540172011-03-17T11:46:00.004-06:002011-03-17T12:42:25.318-06:00Haiku time again... The TV Edition<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQVwK6XbAtXbqM-8Xr-dul8E6EmrmQE8stL-8tdlvGPCKGpT3uJKOitgDs_BAoY-hUpOI2qZVvmvVl_NpXP4Fu4P6rQvqBYhf0xKn6LBp_q27V6uQtc6HxDvIb10CTL4P5wcnrIk7XX4/s1600/1273027_sights_of_kyoto_4.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQVwK6XbAtXbqM-8Xr-dul8E6EmrmQE8stL-8tdlvGPCKGpT3uJKOitgDs_BAoY-hUpOI2qZVvmvVl_NpXP4Fu4P6rQvqBYhf0xKn6LBp_q27V6uQtc6HxDvIb10CTL4P5wcnrIk7XX4/s400/1273027_sights_of_kyoto_4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585107258516279138" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">FOOD NETWORK</span></span><br /><br />Chubby "Brah" Clothing,<br />Spiked, bleached hair is mocking me.<br />Fieri must die.<br /><br />Who let Giada,<br />Mistress of huge freakin' teeth,<br />On my damn TV?<br /><br />Iron Chef comes on.<br />How strange is it when WE start<br />Ripping off Japan?<br /><br />Semi-HomeMade? Uh...<br />You bought it from a store, dude,<br />Not really from scratch.<br /><br />Hi! I'm Rachel Ray!<br />Yummo and et cetera!<br />Have some crystal meth!<br /><br />Alton is the man.<br />No ifs, ands, or buts, bitches.<br />Show some damn respect.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">REALITY TV</span></span><br /><br />It is not real life.<br />It is about as real life<br />As I am Chinese.<br /><br />How many of us<br />Would honestly watch a show<br />Called "Your Shitty Job"?<br /><br />The Situation,<br />Snooki and the Jersey Shore.<br />Kill them with fire.<br /><br />The Simple Life. Ugh.<br />I won't rest 'til I can drink<br />From their precious skulls.<br /><br />The Deadliest Catch.<br />Risk their lives for rich folks food.<br />Blood is on their hands.<br /><br />Filled with bile and hate<br />Every single time I watch<br />John and Kate plus 8.<br /><br />I still have never<br />Seen any American<br />Idol. I am proud.<br /><br />Still, I have to say,<br />Despite all my objections,<br />Mythbusters? Awesome.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">THE NEWS</span></span><br /><br />Wolf Blitzer has a<br />Weird name. Cant wait for the show:<br />"Blitzer and Bohner"<br /><br />BBC new source.<br />Fair, real, international.<br />No one here listens.<br /><br />NPR, I want<br />To support, but you keep on<br />Asking me for cash.<br /><br />MSNBC<br />How long 'til the Tea Party<br />Starts shooting at you?<br /><br />Fox News, Rush, and Glenn:<br />Shut up, shut UP, SHUT UP! FUCK!<br />JUST FUCKING SHUT UP!!!!!<br /><br />YOU FUCKING WHORE BEASTS!!!!<br />YOU WILL WISH YOU HAD NEVER<br />BEEN FUCKING CONCIEVED!!!!!<br /><br />Sorry. Got a bit<br />Too carried away just then.<br />So yeah. Fox news sucks.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">IN CONCLUSION...</span><br /><br />Kill your TV now.<br />Your brain wants you to come and<br />play outside with me.<br /><br />This is your life and<br />it's being taken away<br />second by second...<br /><br />You don't want to die<br />Looking back on your life and<br />see only TV.<br /></div>Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-21043244237335415652011-03-05T13:50:00.004-06:002011-03-05T14:01:54.069-06:00Recipes... The Return of the King (of PAIN!)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghnmWWWMqY-Q2EMdbnB8-lptaSwa3d21Ovb0eZ_EZwd8p6e_4XAV7RdIxp7h94Prt9wVF-UvGnyUTGD-DoCTMuazy0SDRK3L9715sNDezwiHNjxX0Qnmj1zRheF9RDimwspJp7mULffwU/s1600/head-cooking-in-a-soup-pot-on-stove-thumb15299448.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghnmWWWMqY-Q2EMdbnB8-lptaSwa3d21Ovb0eZ_EZwd8p6e_4XAV7RdIxp7h94Prt9wVF-UvGnyUTGD-DoCTMuazy0SDRK3L9715sNDezwiHNjxX0Qnmj1zRheF9RDimwspJp7mULffwU/s400/head-cooking-in-a-soup-pot-on-stove-thumb15299448.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580685831690603538" /></a><br /><br />So, another recipe... This one is one of my favorites, and I hope it will be one of yours as well. It is great on anything you'd want to put barbecue sauce on, and can be easily spiced up with the addition of any number of awesomenesses. On barbecue, on grilled chicken, and even seitan braised in it is excellent! Enjoy!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">UNCLE OTTIS'S BARBECUE SAUCE</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">2 cups tomato puree<br />1/4 cup white wine vinegar<br />1/4 cup vegetable oil<br />1/2 cup brown sugar<br />1 large onion, diced<br />3 cloves garlic, minced<br />1/2 tsp chili powder<br />1 tbs Worcestershire sauce<br />2 tsp dry mustard<br />1 tsp dried oregano<br />1/2 tsp salt<br />pepper to taste<br />1 cup chili sauce<br />1 tsp lemon pepper<br />3 tbs vodka</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br /><br />Lightly saute the onion and garlic in the vegetable oil until translucent.<br /><br />Combine all ingredients in a medium sauce pan and simmer over low heat for 25 to 30 minutes, stirring often.</span>Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-91298449259922380782011-02-01T14:27:00.006-06:002011-02-01T14:35:24.025-06:00I couldn't have said it better myself...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx53cOZvEpRz8csxm7dVAr5Xb5VlfZJ2bthZE_3KTAlEvEqVqoPPkhhEBNpSDdpgvN4c4I-4xVVeR4nGgifnGARc_5Vgx-KSFcLAKM2Gw8d5VShNagPZ9YnE18aGMuwXMYIB_SEcoVVSg/s1600/girlsSkating.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 163px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx53cOZvEpRz8csxm7dVAr5Xb5VlfZJ2bthZE_3KTAlEvEqVqoPPkhhEBNpSDdpgvN4c4I-4xVVeR4nGgifnGARc_5Vgx-KSFcLAKM2Gw8d5VShNagPZ9YnE18aGMuwXMYIB_SEcoVVSg/s400/girlsSkating.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568821419212900802" /></a><br /><br />I'm a guy, and being one I'm excluded from Roller Derby for the most part. I'm not complaining, though. Not by a long shot. I help out when I can, and I'm training to be a referee so that I can be as big a part of this sport as possible. In fact, the impossibility of my being a player actually makes it more... real for me, I guess. I couldn't figure out how to put my thoughts of just how awesome this whole deal is until I read <span style="font-style:italic;">Down and Derby</span>, by Jennifer "Kasey Bomber" Barbee and Alex "Axles of Evil" Cohen. In it, it goes over almost everything one needs to know to be involved in the sport, including the non-skating elements. However, leave it to an announcer to give me the best quote of the book.<br /> <br />When asked what the best part of being an announcer for Derby is, Randy Pan the Goat Boy (aka Jack Merriman of the Rat City Roller Girls) said it best, and anyone who loves the sport but can't skate with the team for specific reasons (i.e., being a dude) can affirm that he's spittin' the truth here...<br /><br /> <span style="font-style:italic;"><br /><br />"For me, it's being a part of a revolution. Not to be hokey, but that's what I truly feel roller derby is. It's the biggest "fuck you" to the status quo (sports status quo, male-dominated -anything status quo, corporate-Satans-running-everything status quo, etc.).<br /> <br />To be a guy involved in a revolution run by women is a special privilege. Granted, that puts me on the ass end of the totem pole, but I can hang there for a change, it's about time.<br /> <br />Tied for that is the life of it all. What I mean is, when you're doing derby you are truly engaged in living, not just waiting to die. You're taking an opportunity that life has given you, as opposed to watching other people do it. There's so much love that comes with this. You're in a community where everyone supports each other and loves each other for it, even if we don't all like each other. So yeah, best part is revolution, life, and love. Goddamnit, I sound like a hippy, I better go eat a fucking steak now."<br /></span><br /> <br /><br />Truer words are seldom spoken.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicimRZWWHmF9MdLeAcK10cUw_gZdGyuxO4bMeUNFCG8RZ2vc1-est2DGucnASaJ50lSYwYt9CKeJgvvVA25GEt-CZtUTUQSBdQHlAzK4LLSfLXVs5fIEFPS8k98B0GVrktq51kDNzYxEs/s1600/WFTDA.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicimRZWWHmF9MdLeAcK10cUw_gZdGyuxO4bMeUNFCG8RZ2vc1-est2DGucnASaJ50lSYwYt9CKeJgvvVA25GEt-CZtUTUQSBdQHlAzK4LLSfLXVs5fIEFPS8k98B0GVrktq51kDNzYxEs/s400/WFTDA.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568820829077886466" /></a><br /><br />Song of teh post: Born to Kill, by The Damned<br />Announcer of teh post: Latenight Lyle, of VCRDFiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-4246224313635474302011-01-29T00:07:00.018-06:002011-01-29T00:31:36.280-06:00Ice cold beard...So this winter I grew a beard... It was a magnificent symbol of my manhood, carefully coiffed, trimmed with love and care and unicorn sharpened mancake razors. It was also as annoying as having... a bunch of hairs growing out of your face. I tried to accept the price... I tried to be a good bearded person... I tried but I didn't know... <span style="font-style:italic;">I didn't know</span>...<br /><br />Anyway, me and mah girlfriend were chilling out in her apartment and decided that it was time to remove the last barrier to the makey outey sessions. She doesn't like a mouthful of face fuzz. Who does? So we went to the razor and chopped away. Here are the results... vote for your favorite on my facebook or my blog...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj50XVr3-NhcZiYajkDiJh51Q629vOPv6LB6JyLUY_H52iEfRr-JGgy7fSpEfstFMNQQtzmh3Q6Uov6aTYZHQuI1dlkuZhjJI-kAcJTOnX3lTw7Aajnk54V1ymgucqKY_jtMYwXZclaEYQ/s1600/sparta1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj50XVr3-NhcZiYajkDiJh51Q629vOPv6LB6JyLUY_H52iEfRr-JGgy7fSpEfstFMNQQtzmh3Q6Uov6aTYZHQuI1dlkuZhjJI-kAcJTOnX3lTw7Aajnk54V1ymgucqKY_jtMYwXZclaEYQ/s320/sparta1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567487294773990306" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC3Iz7fNfldIr6H3YUgZYHpzMDXdHWonCWhESP_Tv6qY-so5lbFkJ5wbwFU1BrwUZ9RnfCJMeldVnocR_sYNnr6o6PY6d5Ewg6YXWLBTdlnQQDHmSTwgVBMKvk-BXj__6toALyZtYdkWE/s1600/sparta+2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC3Iz7fNfldIr6H3YUgZYHpzMDXdHWonCWhESP_Tv6qY-so5lbFkJ5wbwFU1BrwUZ9RnfCJMeldVnocR_sYNnr6o6PY6d5Ewg6YXWLBTdlnQQDHmSTwgVBMKvk-BXj__6toALyZtYdkWE/s320/sparta+2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567487523547193122" /></a><br />The Full Bush<br />A favorite of militiamen and vikings (Or SPARTANS!), this beard is classic, if you can pull it off. Very fun, can be used in many ways! Throw a guitar around it and join ZZ Top, strap a bomb to it and scream “ALLAH HUAKBAR!” to scare your conservative friends, or put on your crunchy leather panties and sling spears into Persians!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0qfN5JtDtPVOsF3MapnoOUG8S9z3s_haPBd-8ToG8g1mcrraAIxromvh1PBWUrhC5rfNpCir1Z8Ra7U7vZLBVGwIW_O5rj6YQ_0W5wDO3b_G1xc1A0KcdKKYW0jUwXElMMc4Fj4jHQU/s1600/shaving+1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0qfN5JtDtPVOsF3MapnoOUG8S9z3s_haPBd-8ToG8g1mcrraAIxromvh1PBWUrhC5rfNpCir1Z8Ra7U7vZLBVGwIW_O5rj6YQ_0W5wDO3b_G1xc1A0KcdKKYW0jUwXElMMc4Fj4jHQU/s320/shaving+1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567487852430981394" /></a><br />Shaving... Shaving...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4RBL_43xjWul6vkWPbBAHHuWQTMgaKjZA7AOsu0_225DB2D-ThmdZNtAgDtCVl5zAQG3CLv5DlxFQKIv53HE_NZD3eJKsXlEC-X0q84nvYbsr7jlExgCo3nl5hVlW3gtnOEkNh0N62Wg/s1600/billy+goat+1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4RBL_43xjWul6vkWPbBAHHuWQTMgaKjZA7AOsu0_225DB2D-ThmdZNtAgDtCVl5zAQG3CLv5DlxFQKIv53HE_NZD3eJKsXlEC-X0q84nvYbsr7jlExgCo3nl5hVlW3gtnOEkNh0N62Wg/s320/billy+goat+1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567488127751084962" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju7J227JD4i8canbRSFVVnRp-UfpsnwoPyWMnVJdUEIjvsmbSoQaBLLdD5ISvxpE5iF6WQK5sSJCgbz5oBFJkYHdUFBF6pkZmHlVR9GmimXna57qH2x8bAhCVmTDEkpiDxpGHT6ofBn8g/s1600/billy+goat+2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju7J227JD4i8canbRSFVVnRp-UfpsnwoPyWMnVJdUEIjvsmbSoQaBLLdD5ISvxpE5iF6WQK5sSJCgbz5oBFJkYHdUFBF6pkZmHlVR9GmimXna57qH2x8bAhCVmTDEkpiDxpGHT6ofBn8g/s320/billy+goat+2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567488335976993250" /></a><br />The Billy Goat.<br />This fashionable facial fodder goes especially well with the trendy, goatee set. Popular with philosophy professors and professional philosophers (who can afford to shave when you're grappling with the problems of being?), look for this beard style at a college campus or French bistro, clamped firmly around a Galouise cigarette, wine stained and spouting things like “Oui, mais ce scrotum démanger est-il un symbole de mon ennui?”<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVzspWy_ZWoWIEQPJw0Ufifb_hXVSumclBwoBhOUgi43cHCBLrYOPYgyThzcRFY2gH6WcuFfGSquibs6HHtBNpIX8vhNwSdNjWjgZA7skXYkXYxKLxwcoMnl8XOBgc-GHvZ-rFv9O7a-k/s1600/fumanchu2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVzspWy_ZWoWIEQPJw0Ufifb_hXVSumclBwoBhOUgi43cHCBLrYOPYgyThzcRFY2gH6WcuFfGSquibs6HHtBNpIX8vhNwSdNjWjgZA7skXYkXYxKLxwcoMnl8XOBgc-GHvZ-rFv9O7a-k/s320/fumanchu2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567488959603418546" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqN3uyzxO0ZoMUim0wuYIRtxu-3sxRS58EWxoY4xmThYVNqNoEddF4bFWdWNyL5-6y4_QwbprhhV4kBSy_CDcvTIf5203TGhZzXMCYYXOzr7ctXnA6tw1r6IdjKIf78aB3NztLrE4L__4/s1600/fumanchu1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqN3uyzxO0ZoMUim0wuYIRtxu-3sxRS58EWxoY4xmThYVNqNoEddF4bFWdWNyL5-6y4_QwbprhhV4kBSy_CDcvTIf5203TGhZzXMCYYXOzr7ctXnA6tw1r6IdjKIf78aB3NztLrE4L__4/s320/fumanchu1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567488855922446754" /></a><br />The Fu-Man-Chu<br />(Also called The Trucker)<br />This versatile beard finds its home on the most deadly of people... The Kung Fu masters and the Common Trucker. Yes, either drunk on plum wine or tweaking on crank, the Fu Man Chu (Trucker) is a symbol, and the symbol is always BEWARE. Highly volatile and dangerous, the owner can expect either geisha or lot lizards as his female companion of choice.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-8N3B0nVX8QngBUogNVLBAHc-3HErrNg3y8MT_fb5Yus_L9eAgLSr4IghMBUBALbAbsL8mDNSYqCWNBuIJ9KhtTh4wm04T3LENghaYM6fWfsZ4nO3vQu_lWHg3E6RP5C6ahv3lvafio/s1600/shaving+3.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-8N3B0nVX8QngBUogNVLBAHc-3HErrNg3y8MT_fb5Yus_L9eAgLSr4IghMBUBALbAbsL8mDNSYqCWNBuIJ9KhtTh4wm04T3LENghaYM6fWfsZ4nO3vQu_lWHg3E6RP5C6ahv3lvafio/s320/shaving+3.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567490881361028210" /></a><br />Shaving... Still shaving...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCNeJ_pYREybpX808MYtL6P0y94CN7uf0AHAvdIddDzgbSyr_S6MsdtnKst3Vcjtyra3hLca6J8nlE4DY0TCsdMPLrjw7G8KgiHXHmSOSNJI1NNEmHitVLyZC9PTE0mmb1ADu5WjA8FdU/s1600/wyatt3.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCNeJ_pYREybpX808MYtL6P0y94CN7uf0AHAvdIddDzgbSyr_S6MsdtnKst3Vcjtyra3hLca6J8nlE4DY0TCsdMPLrjw7G8KgiHXHmSOSNJI1NNEmHitVLyZC9PTE0mmb1ADu5WjA8FdU/s320/wyatt3.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567489426375623218" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB7mUwed5_ZNOEKW4jKps_axBO5P9-HNRWpNkNt3gcF9AdH_uj2dox6mK_TkR-op3vDRgrjm09mFEN9q5nORxihFSBcvW9kmtDPeDWvkuGHaAr2QVLPZGH_MUhBDMqYquMYAGqqTQkItA/s1600/wyatt+1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB7mUwed5_ZNOEKW4jKps_axBO5P9-HNRWpNkNt3gcF9AdH_uj2dox6mK_TkR-op3vDRgrjm09mFEN9q5nORxihFSBcvW9kmtDPeDWvkuGHaAr2QVLPZGH_MUhBDMqYquMYAGqqTQkItA/s320/wyatt+1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567489323040724674" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_I3Dh3XFXdpkocL1DNtIaeKvTvQJZiXvn9p3ZIfTfpw_tIpVd-ZZ4-YzW5xt8aBi2xpAT4S-UhLEuKaPSI0vpLIXAi7AizXZLAgxU-yp6W4g5lMQyPSLKt4gevI_2GoPTqT03657q9nQ/s1600/wyatt2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_I3Dh3XFXdpkocL1DNtIaeKvTvQJZiXvn9p3ZIfTfpw_tIpVd-ZZ4-YzW5xt8aBi2xpAT4S-UhLEuKaPSI0vpLIXAi7AizXZLAgxU-yp6W4g5lMQyPSLKt4gevI_2GoPTqT03657q9nQ/s320/wyatt2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567489209135866242" /></a><br />The Wyatt Derp<br />Yee Haw! The classic cowboy look fits almost any occasion, as long as the occasion is “being awesome!” Giddy up, and don't forget the mustache wax!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjucNmBxVQr8xAzAeRs9vHqkKBHfR4aTuR9rKVvV9PXzgg6F6N_z3tepQAZREp1obsoIznu415s-4KDu4IBCfYHPMx6yLlLYsuZGYUvJBOfsF6LsVydwKeEpmoejiGwuAINPHuEfVDHHmc/s1600/sellecksex.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjucNmBxVQr8xAzAeRs9vHqkKBHfR4aTuR9rKVvV9PXzgg6F6N_z3tepQAZREp1obsoIznu415s-4KDu4IBCfYHPMx6yLlLYsuZGYUvJBOfsF6LsVydwKeEpmoejiGwuAINPHuEfVDHHmc/s320/sellecksex.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567489794373386994" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7qGb9LbwF7zD7_Kql8JyzR71iC0OCy0Gg2vRzhWadUk5FcaEQAaW4KTdG1La3BFaMU00c0g2HwXgX1a8A0KOFiFt5zEOFrLZkoIusNJh3ZVy8cOy3oFl8Zh8m66GmHOghVoE7LVQ31MU/s1600/selleck1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7qGb9LbwF7zD7_Kql8JyzR71iC0OCy0Gg2vRzhWadUk5FcaEQAaW4KTdG1La3BFaMU00c0g2HwXgX1a8A0KOFiFt5zEOFrLZkoIusNJh3ZVy8cOy3oFl8Zh8m66GmHOghVoE7LVQ31MU/s320/selleck1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567489677238474610" /></a><br />The Tom Selleck<br />Need we say more? You are seduced, no?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH4W7Gxz6jskhBtok9ZPvyVm6CRe_d3qUw0-wEGuAsrbXQtoCF8nMqoKiCRf4OnP9n4RsFqIBFZuUW0u2nDLrD_7tPzWYsRWw31YXTz2NhEWb84WszwH0AASnJpDvdKeg3pmMnlEnu8YM/s1600/hitler1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH4W7Gxz6jskhBtok9ZPvyVm6CRe_d3qUw0-wEGuAsrbXQtoCF8nMqoKiCRf4OnP9n4RsFqIBFZuUW0u2nDLrD_7tPzWYsRWw31YXTz2NhEWb84WszwH0AASnJpDvdKeg3pmMnlEnu8YM/s320/hitler1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567490129159262130" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoKtkVNC1PWlwsDEOO7tUna4tRMZFtymu6NBm0VtUb3axvs_qjL-whvrDlGuQduiAzRa3RhQ6V4_o-nefVRaZ4oYGe5JGlwLIAYW0n9iiYIYneXGJPsCS68bLdXgT4yvjQfQfi2sRCzMs/s1600/chaplin1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoKtkVNC1PWlwsDEOO7tUna4tRMZFtymu6NBm0VtUb3axvs_qjL-whvrDlGuQduiAzRa3RhQ6V4_o-nefVRaZ4oYGe5JGlwLIAYW0n9iiYIYneXGJPsCS68bLdXgT4yvjQfQfi2sRCzMs/s320/chaplin1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567490016378911346" /></a><br />The Chaplin<br />THIS IS NOT HITLER! Ok, it's Hitler. But I am full of shame, so it's cool. This mustache should only be used pre-1936. Seriously... Moving on...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpXPzBvzFCgxvLMJ1l9JmReS4AOcY5UP0iVUzjTnZm-QztKiDqq82Z3X6M8BlgaMYKs9_s5PLCxoqs7BTTrpb9qdQTSJl-6Cd0WEpe35I1g8B2XShMvHkG6PP6Dn9oKm3qz9700nLCaqw/s1600/pastor1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpXPzBvzFCgxvLMJ1l9JmReS4AOcY5UP0iVUzjTnZm-QztKiDqq82Z3X6M8BlgaMYKs9_s5PLCxoqs7BTTrpb9qdQTSJl-6Cd0WEpe35I1g8B2XShMvHkG6PP6Dn9oKm3qz9700nLCaqw/s320/pastor1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567490632078267154" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKXtJmrU5vuroxxrH1TioobAzI4TBZhNQd_wOMhPj0duXCJ2IOTbgghwGRNJfVJSLbwQrmUk1mrNSOmS6ihKUleJmXsA0gTE5eMAnRE_i49bh8AqhZseTEJ2yRVuj2cHTWtetRqdltbZo/s1600/pastor4.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKXtJmrU5vuroxxrH1TioobAzI4TBZhNQd_wOMhPj0duXCJ2IOTbgghwGRNJfVJSLbwQrmUk1mrNSOmS6ihKUleJmXsA0gTE5eMAnRE_i49bh8AqhZseTEJ2yRVuj2cHTWtetRqdltbZo/s320/pastor4.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567490415510312290" /></a><br />The Youth Pastor<br />Hey kids! Have you heard the good news! Yes, my bible is open to the book of Lamentations, but that's not a problem! I've got something to share! No, it's not that... It's... You know what? I think we should take the whole gang outside... because that's just the whacky kind of guy I am!<br /><br />And now I'm clean shaven. Remember to vote on the one that I should rock out next time I decide to grow my beard again! And no, I will not grow the Hitler.<br /><br />Song of teh post: I Believe in Miracles, by Hot Chocolate.<br />Ashley's favorite style of teh post: The Youth PastorFiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-88534019539567990522011-01-23T09:35:00.004-06:002011-01-23T10:00:12.615-06:00Recipes... The Two Desserts<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQZ9DnA9ShNvhU6_obfSB2If-52l1Q-hAgFoRQ-TArYKiVb6PxBF_D9mF-w3US7aoGNcnonYE5n7efRp8Ld6wcv-g6iXddBYQRZAn10-ohS6o4nlxo4uhMpmS90VczSFCuejGXDt7uFuo/s1600/istockphoto_11603796-shocked-baker-with-fresh-bread.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 253px; height: 380px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQZ9DnA9ShNvhU6_obfSB2If-52l1Q-hAgFoRQ-TArYKiVb6PxBF_D9mF-w3US7aoGNcnonYE5n7efRp8Ld6wcv-g6iXddBYQRZAn10-ohS6o4nlxo4uhMpmS90VczSFCuejGXDt7uFuo/s400/istockphoto_11603796-shocked-baker-with-fresh-bread.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565408186589154418" /></a><br />Recipe time... Here's a couple of recipes from my personal collection, both desserts. I realized that most of my written recipes are desserts, for the simple fact that I hardly ever eat them, and I don't have the brainspace to memorize them like I've memorized my favorite pasta dish (spaghetti, olive oil, sun dried tomatoes, minced garlic, salt, pepper, Parmesan cheese, in whatever quantities you want. Booyah.) So, I write my favorite ones down with the hopes of impressing a member of the opposite sex... or at least putting them in a sugar coma to lower their inhibitions... You'd be surprised how well a well made dessert works when accompanied with booze...<br /><br />The first one is pure decadence. I mean, cheesecake and brownies on one plate? Are you kidding?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">CHEESECAKE BROWNIES</span></span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />½ cup butter, melted<br />1 cup sugar<br />1 tsp vanilla extract<br />2 eggs<br />½ cup AP flour<br />1/3 cup cocoa<br />¼ tsp baking powder<br />¼ tsp salt<br />8 oz. Cream cheese<br />1 egg yolk<br />2 tbsp sugar</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Stir butter, sugar, and vanilla together.<br /><br />Add eggs and beat well.<br /><br />Separately mix flour, cocoa, baking powder, salt.<br /><br />Add flour mixture to egg mixture, stir well.<br /><br />Spread batter evenly into greased 9x9 Pyrex pan.<br /><br />Beat together cream cheese, egg, and sugar until smooth.<br /><br />Dollop cream cheese mixture on top of the brownie batter. Swirl together using a knife or skewer to produce a marble effect.<br /><br />Bake 40 minutes at 325 degrees or until knife comes out clean.<br /><br />Cool in the pan, cut into bars and serve.<br /></span><br />The second one would be perfect for a light dessert that you want to make into breakfast the next day. And I know you want that.<br /><br />By the way, the muffin method is simple. Mix all the dry ingredients together, mix all the wet ingredients together IN A SEPARATE BOWL, pour the wet onto the dry, and mix until just brought together. It will look like a shaggy mess, but limit yourself to about 10 to 15 stirs ONLY.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">ORANGE WALNUT QUICKBREAD</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Dry:<br />12 oz Cake flour<br />1 oz powdered milk<br />½ oz baking powder<br />1 tsp baking soda<br />1 tsp salt<br /><br />Wet:<br />6 oz sugar<br />2 eggs<br />5 oz orange juice<br />6 oz water<br />1 ¼ oz oil<br />½ oz orange zest<br /><br />Etc:<br />6 oz chopped walnuts</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Mix using muffin method.<br /><br />Fold in walnuts.<br /><br />Bake in 2 8 x 4 loaf pans, greased and floured, at 375 degrees for 50 minutes.<br /></span><br /><br />So there ya go... Enjoy! And let me know how these worked out for ya!Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-9139554810545464242011-01-03T09:09:00.006-06:002011-01-04T10:39:27.120-06:00Dark Fantasies...<span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Between imagination and desire, between fact and breakfast, between the answers to unasked questions being a firm "maybe" and the exacting nature of estimation... lies Dark Fantasies.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivpQZaDuIKQrVGGPGUEi-iFF5yrcFqbY9xuQWA9_gDIOmpQ1Ah9VoPf0Ko-Wh8eL7V4b0pYOMV-Cw-sbDARq4UZhDSkWxXuLup1OMz9vTBr_jhcJfZ-xycgo7-WaZ23MXov3cxA18Y2ME/s1600/0.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivpQZaDuIKQrVGGPGUEi-iFF5yrcFqbY9xuQWA9_gDIOmpQ1Ah9VoPf0Ko-Wh8eL7V4b0pYOMV-Cw-sbDARq4UZhDSkWxXuLup1OMz9vTBr_jhcJfZ-xycgo7-WaZ23MXov3cxA18Y2ME/s400/0.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558025790020232850" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Good evening. I am Gelliant Gutfright, and tonight's tale could easily be called "The Tears of a Clown." So easily that it is, in fact. But could it also be called "A Fair Warning?"<br /><br />No... it couldn't...<br /><br />The tale is the story of the last, gasping moments of a bane of human existence, the final squirt of fearful urine from the urethra of an unmitigated bore, the heralding of clear trumpets as a scourge of humanity realizes his mistakes and begs for death before the end. In fact, the tale could be called "I Can't Plead." Couldn't it?<br /><br />Couldn't it...?<br /><br />Or could it...?<br /><br />Or couldn't it...?</span><br /><br /></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF5ScUPR0kJFIBpZXRu_sDBOkCsorRIjVOt4xJ2ztlyL9YSGvyMhuG2V1j29qlP4ucW7RrehNQBYNkfmXPHba-Tf5zDISA5b8fRi6g6WWpfBTwreK3-0iZNRwU9_U7xUM2O1t6RNWhFQ8/s1600/bozo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 321px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF5ScUPR0kJFIBpZXRu_sDBOkCsorRIjVOt4xJ2ztlyL9YSGvyMhuG2V1j29qlP4ucW7RrehNQBYNkfmXPHba-Tf5zDISA5b8fRi6g6WWpfBTwreK3-0iZNRwU9_U7xUM2O1t6RNWhFQ8/s400/bozo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558028979394811458" /></a><br /><br />The first thing he noticed was the smell of the grease paint. That slick, chemical smell that was so often mingled with sweat, cheap soda, and whatever street drugs he could score before the shows. He thought he couldn't open his eyes, but realized that they were taped shut...<br /><br />Taped shut!<br /><br />He tried to let out a scream, but his mouth was taped as well. A sharp knock against the side of his head sent his mind blurring, and even though his eyes were shut, he still saw a flash of light.<br /><br />"Shut up. It's no use screaming," a voice whispered in his right ear. That voice... he knew it... he searched his mind, trying to find a face to the voice, and all of a sudden it hit him, like a dam being released full force at his mind. The night before, at the bar. Someone had been buying him shots... that woman! She wore a loose, baggy shirt, black dyed hair, black makeup, and was swearing like a sailor. He remembered she wasn't wearing any pants, just a thong with a clown on it. Thinking of all the alcohol the night before made him queasy, and his nerves got the best of him. He gagged three times before he vomited, sending great rivulets of puke out his nostrils. In his panic he heard a different voice... English, somewhat light but serious...<br /><br />"No. Keep the tape on for a bit. Let him get scared..."<br /><br />Just before he thought he would pass out and choke on the used tequila and boneless buffalo wings, the tape was violently ripped off of his mouth. He tried to lean over but was taped to an office chair, his hands taped to the arms of the chair, his upper body taped to the back, and his feet taped to the wheels, keeping him from moving himself. He emptied the contents of his stomach onto himself in great, blubbering heaves.<br /><br />"What the fuck have you done with me?!" he screamed, and immediately got a hard shot with what felt like a bat against his throat.<br /><br />"With any luck, Mr. Utsler, we just crushed your plural larynges, leaving you to never perform again. We consider this a definite boon to humanity," the British voice said quietly. "Now that we can talk, we must explain certain things to you... things that we don't think you want to hear."<br /><br />"... take the... tape off my eyes... please..." he gasped<br /><br />"In a moment, surely. You must be aware, Mr. Utsler..."<br /><br />"That's not my name! It's..." Whack! What felt like a bat to the ribcage and the pain of a surely broken rib shooting through his body made him tear up. He was glad the tape was on his eyes, so nobody could see his fear and pain.<br /><br />"We are very aware of your stage name, Mr. Utsler, and we are not impressed. Keep in mind that you have just broken at least one rib, and any further outburst will be directed at your genitals. You do have the sense to appreciate how much a burst testicle would hurt, don't you?"<br /><br />He nodded resignedly.<br /><br />"Good, so no further interruptions will be experienced?"<br /><br />A gentle prodding with the bat at his scrotum turned his shamed head shake into a very vigorous one.<br /><br />"Good. To continue, Mr. Utsler, you must be aware that you are being held captive, but not by whom. We sent one of our operatives out to find you last night. It was remarkably easy."<br /><br />The woman's voice came from his left ear this time. "I had to take three showers just to get your awful stink off my body, you putrid sack of..."<br /><br />"That's enough, Donna."<br /><br />He heard her leave his ear and give it a quick slap, which hurt more than he cared to admit, and he lost his temper.<br /><br />"You fuckin' bitch, when I get outta here I will fuckin'-" and the pain was great. His eyes watered, his whole body convulsed and he almost fainted but for an injection delivered directly to his heart which pulled him back from darkness, whether death or unconsciousness he didn't know or care.<br /><br />"We warned you, Mr. Utsler. To continue, we found you, drugged you, and brought you here to show and tell. You remember show and tell, don't you? It's something they do in schools. And this is very much school, I assure you."<br /><br />The tape was violently ripped off his face. Before him was a small man, silver haired and somewhat old, with glasses and a remote control in his hand. He was standing in front of a white glowing screen, and smiling slightly.<br /><br />"Mr. Utsler, you can call me Professor Dawkins."<br /><br />Fear welled up into his heart, though he didn't know why.<br /><br />"I'm here to teach you a few things. I tried to teach these things to your associate, but his lessons were, shall we say, unproductive."<br /><br />The small British man almost imperceptibly pressed a button on the remote control, and a quick, repeating image of his friend's blubbery head, covered in tears, grease paint, and vomit, and being shot with a shot gun filled the screen behind Professor Dawkins. Over and over the mans head was blown up in a pink and red splatter. <br /><br />"He pleaded to us to stop before the end. He soiled himself almost immediately when he realized we wouldn't be letting him go. Just like you."<br /><br />"P... Please... I'll do anything... Please, I want to see my son again..."<br /><br />"I'm sorry, but that is not possible. The next time your son sees you you will have changed too drastically. So, shall we continue with the lessons?"<br /><br />"No... please stop..."<br /><br />"I'm afraid I can't do that. First," the small man pressed a button and the screen changed again, from the death of his best friend to a simple picture of a bar of metal with N on one end and S on the other, and current markings around it. "Magnets. They fucking work because unpaired electrons spinning in the same directions create magnetic domains. This, usually called electromagnetism, as electricity and magnetism share several similar properties, is a subset of the four forces, the others being strong interaction, weak interaction, and gravitation."<br /><br />Confusion. Utter confusion. He was being kidnapped for this? For a... <span style="font-style:italic;">a song?</span><br /><br />"Also, everything in that awful song that is actually real is explainable, if only you were intellectually curious." The screen changed again to a biological tree of life. "This, and I use the term very loosely, song, is what is wrong with our society. You care nothing about what we know and revel in ignorance. Giraffes are long-necked beasts for several reasons, the moon was formed from earth about four and a half billion years ago. UFOs? Seriously? The term is unidentified. That means it can be identified. That means we just need to learn."<br /><br />Professor Dawkins pressed the button again. It showed a repeating video of a tube projecting jets of fire, each jet changing size as a person to the left of the tube pressed a note on a keyboard. "You are seeing music right now, Mr. Utsler. The wavelength of specific sounds creates this effect on the fire. It's called the resonant standing waves experiment. Do you see? Just because you don't know the answers and don't care enough to look them up does not mean that there are no answers. All the things you sing about are explainable or not real." The screen changed again, this time with a natural scene depicting a beach. The calm atmosphere the picture portrayed was in stark contrast to the words coming out of Professor Dawkins's mouth. "There are no such things as miracles, Mr. Utsler. Only things we can't explain yet. You talk so much of appreciating the world around you, do you not see that knowing is more satisfying? You are an idiot. A moron. And the world is not made better by your calling your lack of understanding a good thing."<br /><br />Professor Dawkins's voice had grown deeper. "Your lyric, let me see if I can remember it correctly, '... and I don't wanna talk to no scientist, y'all just lyin' and gettin' me pissed' has made us mad. And you don't want to make scientists mad, do you Mr. Utsler?"<br /><br />The vomit caked grease paint was mixing with tears as he realized he wouldn't be let out of this room alive. He had pissed off the wrong people...<br /><br />He had pissed off the scientists.<br /><br />"You've made us mad... Donna, please bring them out."<br /><br />A door opened and two men stood in the hall adjacent to the room. They were both wearing ridiculous grease paint, one being short and squat, the other taller and thin.<br /><br />"Say hello to the new Shaggy 2 Dope and Violent J, Mr. Utsler," Professor Dawkins said. "They are our associates, and they will be taking your place. We will use your minimal popularity to bring rational thought back to the ones that need it most... the, as you call them, Juggalos."<br /><br />As he felt the life drain from his body after the surprisingly painless knife stabbed into his chest, he heard from the back of the room someone say "Good riddance, I never liked the bastards anyway..." His last thought was "That sounded a whole lot like my eighth grade science teacher..."<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Good night, little ones... if you can...</span></span>Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3149821195096710576.post-16243771543178887762010-12-28T08:37:00.007-06:002010-12-28T09:25:50.025-06:00To catsitters, to make much with thyme...Visited my parents in Texas over X-mas. I live in Kentucky. That's like, over fifty miles away! Some friends were visiting from Kansas (I have some quite long-reaching associations... bear that in mind when messing with my mafia) and they needed a place to crash that didn't have babies or mother-in-laws, and preferably had a cat. I has three cats. They are beefcats who sleep in sausage gravy, if you didn't know.<br /><br />As with any time someone house/cat sits for me, I left them a note outlining some basics. I started writing something like...<br /><br />"Hey, D&S...<br /><br />There's food. There are cats. Don't confuse them..."<br /><br />But it just rang hollow to me. So I decided to do what any of us would do...<br /><br />I wrote a long lost chapter of the Necronomicon.<br /><br />Here, then, is the unedited version of this note...<br />(BTW, I'm posting this because I want to get to twenty posts in a year, and this may just help push me over the edge. That, and it's pretty damn funny... Also some background info: I'm babysitting a cat called Milkshakes, and my apartment has a room that tapers in the ceiling and recesses in the floor, which makes it look like a church. So naturally I put a flag with the FSM in there, with x-mas lights. I am normal.)<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Gospel of the Methhaus apartment (as dictated to the "Mad Arab"), The Lost Book of the Necronomicon<span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span><br /></span><br />1. And the lord thy god, the great oldest one, said unto the keepers of the felines of the one who looks at the dead:<br /><br />2. <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Who soever eateth the pork curry in the box as cold as R'hley shall rejoice, for gastric pleasure and spelling mistakes shall be theirs.</span><br /><br />3. <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">And unto you I give the contents of the manna room, for within ye shall enjoy the delights therein.</span><br /><br />4.<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> But yea, heed ye this warning. Thou shalt not eat of the truffle, for if thou doust, thou shall encourage the wrath of the squid beast.</span><br /><br />5. <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">And thou shalt not consume all of the tomatoes dried by Masaka's gaze, or the crawling chaos shall enter your ears and eat upon your sanity.</span><br /><br />6. And before the keepers could respond, the great oldest one continued <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">"... Your sanity! The chaos shall eat it! Nibble nibble nibble! Which is a shock, let me tellst thou."</span><br /><br />7. And I did see the pot that makes the black lifeblood, hidden with the blender, under the washing area where cats fear to tread.<br /><br />8. And behold, the seven rolls of papyrus that shan't be used twice, hidden under the sink in Bath's room.<br /><br />9. And shall the fattest of the beefcats whine? The oldest one said <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">"Yea, for when you shall feed the beefcats, the whiner shall demand treats."</span><br /><br />10. And I looked and saw, in the drawers beside the food of the beefcats, a plethora of treats for beefcats.<br /><br />11. And the sheets were cleansed.<br /><br />12. And the bananas were purchased.<br /><br />13. Yet, tho the keepers did request it, the juice of the cow's breast was nowhere to be found.<br /><br />14. The great oldest one saw my confusion, and said<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> "I forgot. I could have gone to the store again, but I couldn't be bothered."</span><br /><br />15. And I saw the takers of refuse, for they come on the day of fri. And all were pleased.<br /><br />16. But then, lo, I did smell a great stench and heard a scratching sound. I did wail and gnash my teeth, and the oldest one said <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">"The beefcat with the name that shall bring all of the cultist males under 18 to the yard has stinky poos.</span><br /><br />17. <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">STINKY POOOOOOOOS!!!"</span><br /><br />18. And I wondered about entertainment, and was pleased when I saw over 400 geebees of entertainment on the small box of the Revo in the church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.<br /><br />19. And I wondered about internet access, and was dismayed by the wire that must be connected to the top of my lap.<br /><br />20. And I wondered aloud, "O Oldest One, What if I have a queery about something? Whom shall I pray to?"<br /><br />21. And the oldest one said <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">"Pray ye to the one who looks at the dead, for his cell phone shall be in service, and he shall answer."</span><br /><br />22. And thou hast lost the game.<br /><br />23. And the oldest one said<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> "Verily, that is what she spake!"</span><br /><br />24. And when I asked "What do you mean by that?" I was banished to the abyss, starring Ed Harris.<br /><br />25. Happy intercoursing holidays, and danke.<br /><br />Song of teh post: Carmina Burana, by Carl Orff<br />Pissed off Lovecraftian elder god of teh post: Cthulhu! Ia Ia Cthulhu Ftaghan!Fiendly Grimmishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15251656202961761747noreply@blogger.com2