The Troll Potty Reader

What would you like?

2010-07-29T21:26:00.000-07:00

It's been almost 4 years since the last post. What sort of things do you want to read about? Things that are real and of substance? Rants about celebrities or things in the media? What is it that you want to read about dear Troll Potty Reader? (You see, the original "Troll Potty Reader" was started by college kids over 14 years ago, two of which lived in the basement of the Honors Dorm and well, the Potty Reader, was a humourous title to refer to where a lot of people actually do their reading...) Do we revive the Troll Potty Reader or let it rest in peace?

Loving a Soldier

2006-12-11T20:24:00.000-08:00

Loving a Soldier is so hard they say....Loving him is the price you pay....Its loving him with no one to hold....Its being young yet feeling old....Its letting him whisper his love to you....Your whispering back that you love him too....Then comes a kiss and a promise to wait....Knowing the war now holds his fate....Its extremely painful letting him go....While dying inside from needing him so ....Watching him leave leave with eyes full of tears....Standing alone with his hopes, dreams and fears....Although you are near, you're so far away....His love for you grows with each passing day....Loving a Soldier isn't much fun....But its worth the wait when the time is done....Remember he's lonely and sad from being away....And he's thinking of you every single day....So love him and miss him and please tell him so....Because if you really love him, he desperately needs to know....

Thanksgiving Tools...

2006-11-18T12:57:00.000-08:00

repost:

Forks:

In Ancient Greece, the first forks merely aided in the carving and serving of meat. From there, forks traveled to royalty in the Middle East, Italy, and France. They did not gain popularity in England until the 1600's, when wealthy nobles used them as a status symbol to impress guests.

Years of development gave forks a larger size, additional tines, and a curve to help diners hold on to their food. In a place setting, forks belong to he left of the plate.

Knives:

In Europe during the Middle Ages, hosts did not provide cutlery for their guests, because people carried their own knives in sheaths attached to their belts. Diners would spear their food and bring it to their mouths.

These multi-purpose knives seemed dangerous at the dinner table. Once forks began to emerge with their pointed tips, a sharp knife was not needed for eating. In 1669, King Louis XIV of France enacted a law making pointed knives illegal, and demanded all knife points to be rounded.

The new blunt-tipped knives led to a distinctively American way of eating. At the beginning of the 18th Century, Americans owned very few forks, and no sharp-tipped knives. So, one used a spoon to steady food while cutting, and then switched the spoon to the opposite hand in order to scoop up the food and eat. Even after forks became common in America, it remained the only country with the custom of swapping hands after cutting.

Knives are placed to the right of the plate, with the blade facing the plate, in a proper place setting.

Spoons:

Prehistoric people probably used shells or wood chips as spoons. How do we know?

*Both the Greek and Latin word for spoon is derived from "cochlea," meaning spiral-shaped snail shell..

*The Anglo-Saxon word "spon" means chip or splinter of wood.

Spoons arrived in Britain during the first century, when Romans occupied that territory. Nowadays, spoons line up to the right of knives in the place setting.

Use of Silverware:

Choosing the correct silverware as you eat is easy when you remember to work "outside in." Starting with the knife, fork or spoon that is farthest from your plate, work your way in, using one utensil for each course.

Napkins:

Tradition dictates that the host signals the beginning of a meal by unfolding his or her napkin. This is the guests' cue to do the same. Place your napkin on your lap, completely unfolded or folded in half, lengthwise, depending on its size. The napkin remains on your lap throughout the entire meal and should be used to gently blot your mouth.

If you need to leave the table during the meal, place your napkin on your chair. The host will indicate the end of the meal by placing his or her napkin on the table. Once the meal is over, you too should place your napkin neatly on the table to the right of your dinner plate, not folded, but not crumpled up, either.

(From Apartment News of America 2002)

Napkin Folding Instructions from Christmas magazine

Napkin Folding Instructions from Napkin Folding Guide

2006-09-17T18:50:00.000-07:00

If you must choose between two evils ... Pick the one you've never tried. :)

The Road to Success is ALWAYS under construction.

Good taste is the enemy of creativity!!!

DON'T rub the lamp.... unless you're ready for the genie!

2006-08-15T17:22:00.000-07:00

Scenario:

You are driving in a car at a constant speed. On your left side is a
valley and on your right side is a fire engine traveling at the same
speed as you.

In front of you is a galloping pig which is the same size as your car
and you cannot overtake it. Behind you is a helicopter flying at ground
level. Both the giant pig and the helicopter are also traveling at the
same speed as you.

What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?

Answer:

Get off the children's "Merry-Go-Round", you're drunk.

A Mum...

2006-07-18T22:08:00.000-07:00

A woman named Emily renewing her driver's license at the Transport office was asked by the clerk to state her occupation. She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself. "What I mean is," explained the clerk, "do you have a job, or are you just a .?

"Of course I have a job," snapped Emily. "I'm a Mum."

"We don't list 'Mum' as an occupation...... 'housewife' covers it," said the clerk emphatically.

I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our local police station. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like, "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."

"What is your occupation?" she probed.

What made me say it, I do not know... The words simply popped out.

"I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."

The clerk paused, pen frozen in midair, and looked up as though she had not heard right.

I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most significant words.

Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire!

"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"

Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I have a continuing programme of research, (what mother doesn't), in the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and out).

I'm working for my Masters, (the whole bloody family), and already have four credits, (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree.?) and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."

There was an increasing note of respect in the girl's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.

When I got home, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 10, 7, and 3. Upstairs, I could hear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby), in the child-development programme, testing out a new vocal pattern.

I felt I had triumphed over bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another Mum."

Motherhood.....What a glorious career! Especially when there's a title on the door.

Does this make grandmothers "Senior Research Associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations", and great grandmothers "Executive Senior Research Associates"??? I think so!!! I also think it makes Aunts "Associate Research Assistants".

The First Kiss

2006-07-14T20:45:00.000-07:00

At the end of their first date, a young man takes his favorite girl home. Emboldened by the night, he decides to try for that important first kiss. With an air of confidence, he leans with his hand against the wall and, smiling, he says to her, "Darling, how 'bout a goodnight kiss?"

Horrified, she replies, "Are you mad? My parents will see us!"

"Oh come on! Who's gonna see us at this hour?"

"No, please. Can you imagine if we get caught?"

"Oh come on, there's nobody around, they're all sleeping!"

"No way. It's just too risky!"

"Oh please, please, I like you so much!!"

"No, no, and no. I like you too, but I just can't!"

"Oh yes you can. Please?"

"NO, no. I just can't."

"Pleeeeease?..."

Out of the blue, the porch light goes on, and the girl's sister shows up in her pajamas, hair disheveled. In a sleepy voice the sister says: "Dad says to go ahead and give him a kiss. Or I can do it. Or if need be, he'll come down himself and do it. But for crying out loud tell him to take his hand off the intercom button!"

Happy Independence Day!!!

2006-07-03T13:34:00.000-07:00

My daughter Kaylee said, "Its our country's birthday, how old is it?"

"Well, our Independence day was July 4, 1776, so that would make it 230 years old this year, honey, " I replied. That got me to thinking. For 230 years we have had people born into freedom. Our African American slaves were freed around 1865, so that is 141 years all men have been free here and in 1920 the women were recognized as equal by the government. SO there is 86 years that we all have been considered free in our country. Engraved on the front of the Crittenden County Court House in Arkansas it says, "To Keep the Law is LIBERTY..." how very true that statement really is.

My daddy sent me this great link of John Wayne
"Why I love her" and its about why he love the United States. You should check it out!

Happy FOURTH EVERYBODY!!!

So why did the chicken cross the road?

2006-06-15T17:45:00.000-07:00

It is a sad state of affairs when this is what we see.

DR. PHIL:

The problem we have here is that this chicken won't accept that he must
first deal with the problem on "THIS" side of the road before it goes
after the problem on the "OTHER SIDE" of the road. What we need to do is
help him realize how stupid he's acting by not taking on his "CURRENT"
problems before adding "NEW" problems.

OPRAH:
Well I understand that the chicken is having problems, which is why he
wants to cross this road so badly. So instead of having the chicken
learn from his mistakes and suffer the consequences, which is a part of
life, I'm going to give this chicken a car so that he can just drive
across the road and not have to live his life like the rest of the
chickens.

GEORGE W BUSH:
We don't really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to
know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not. The chicken is
either against us, or for us. There is no middle ground here.

DONALD RUMSFELD:
Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the satellite image
of the chicken crossing the road.

ANDERSON COOPER/CNN:
We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet been
allowed to have access to the other side of the road.

JOHN KERRY:
Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now against it!

It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about the chicken's
intentions. I am for it now, and will remain against it, for it, against
it, for it, against it.

JUDGE JUDY:
That chicken crossed the road because he's GUILTY! You can see it in his
eyes and the way he walks.

PAT BUCHANAN:
To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.

MARTHA STEWART:
No one called me to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a
standing order at the Farmer's Market to sell my eggs when the price
dropped to a certain level.

DR SEUSS:
Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, the
chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I've not been told.

ERNEST HEMINGWAY:
To die in the rain. Alone.

JERRY FALWELL:
Because the chicken was gay! Can't you people see the plain truth in
front of your face? The chicken was going to the "other side." That's
why they call it the "othe r" side. Yes, my friends, that chicken is
gay. And if you eat that chicken, you will become gay too. I say we
boycott all chickens until we sort out this abomination that the liberal
media whitewashes with seemingly harmless phrases like "the other side."

That chicken should not be free to cross the road. It's as plain and
simple as that!

GRANDPA:
In my day we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Somebody told
us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.

BARBARA WALTERS:
Isn't that interesting? In a few moments, we will be listening to the
chicken tell, for the first time, the heart warming story of how it
experienced a serious case of molting, and went on to accomplish its
life long dream of crossing the road.

JOHN LENNON:
Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads together in peace.

ARISTOTLE:
It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.

BILL GATES:
I have just released eChicken2006, which will not only cross roads, but
will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your check
book. Internet explorer is an integral part of eChicken. The Platform is
much more stable and will never cra...#@&&^( C \ ..... reboot.

ALBERT EINSTEIN:
Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move beneath the
chicken?

BILL CLINTON:
I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What is your definition of
chicken?

AL GORE:
I invented the chicken!

COLONEL SANDERS:
Did I miss one?

Men vs. Penis

2006-06-08T19:36:00.000-07:00

It has taken almost 30 years but I finally figured out the Penis and the effect it has on the human male. At the point little boys realize that they have a penis all they want to do is play with it. Hell I guess I can understand if you have something hanging there it might be fun to play with. Then you move on to realizing it has mind of its own and when you see something attractive it stands up and begs to be played with and uh oh look what happens now. I get this. Hell stroke the monkey all you want just don’t do it in public or in front of little kids and it is all good. At that point when boys start to date everything changes.

By this point the boys have sat down and had heart to heart talks with the little guy. You know how they go. “I really like this girl and I need you to behave if you jump out at her she is going to freak out and never talk to me again. If you stay in control maybe I can get her to touch you.” That 1st date when the little guy does have his “coming out” party is very similar to a drag race. So much prep and it is over in less than 12 seconds. Usually the boys crawl back in their hole and continue to pet the monkey. They need to find control.

Late teen years hit. By now these boys are under the impression that they are men. The one thing that I can give them is that they usually have learned control by this time. They have learned that if you take a girl out and have fun you get to play baseball. I understand now why boys equated making moves on a girl with baseball. After all it is on the laundry list of things they think about to maintain control. What these boys don’t realize at this time is women in training learned 5 years ago that promises to look, touch, kiss, and even suck, gets you everything you want.

By the college men in training have figured out that if they rely on their penis to make decisions for them they will probably end up in a ditch somewhere with a crack whore. They push it aside and only fall into a nasty hole every once and a while. These are the years that make the best stories. This is also the time that these very men in training realize that the only people that suffer from penis envy are other men.

By the mid twenties most of these men in training have become men. Most of them have come to realize that the penis is not what it is cracked up to be. What like only 20 % of women can actually orgasm from intercourse alone anyway? They have learned that what makes them attractive is who they are not what is between their legs. This is where the great kissers shine. They have realized that to have an amazing relationship sexual or otherwise you need communication and to enjoy your partner. (to any ladies reading this if they haven’t gotten this by now jump ship please)

So I find myself looking forward to the next phase of the penis diaries whatever that may be. Rumor has it the 30’s are about being unselfish could be a good time

No Sympathy for the Devil...But I Wasn't Late For Work Either

2006-06-06T19:32:00.000-07:00

Normally, Tuesday mornings are pretty boring. Get up, drink my five cups of too - damned - strong, black - as - death coffee, eat my Lean Pockets, forget to shave, etc...

But this morning was different.

I woke up and realized Satan was sitting at the foot of my bed, reading the Cincinnati Enquirer.

"What the fuck, man...I'm trying to sleep."

"Dude, lighten up. I'm the Prince of Fucking Darkness... and I'm bored."

"No, seriously. What the hell are you doing in my townhouse?"

The Devil lit up a plump Honduran Maduro and sipped on the last of my Wild Turkey 101.

"Pfft...cable's out at my place," Mr. Morning Fucking Star explained. "Plus the old lady's got her Anti-Christian Ladies' Brunch this morning, the kids are screaming, and I think I've got hemorrhoids."

"Dude, I've got to be at work in, like, two three hours..." I explained. "And that is the cheapest smelling cigar I've smelled in years. Whadidya do? Steal that off a hobo?"

I quickly pulled on some underwear, not completely comfortable lying in bed naked with the Devil staring at my junk.

"Dude, where the fuck did ya get the banana sling there?" Lucifer said, staring over the Sports section. "The whole mankini thing is so not you."

"A friend."

"Oh yeah. I remember her. Do you remember when she used to --"

I interrupted him with a grunt.

"Dude, you were such a total bastard back then," Lucifer continued. "You used to ruin more good lingerie than a closet full of moths. C'mon... admit you miss me..."

"Dude, I really don't want to talk about it." I said. "Besides, don't you have something better to do than critique my choice of underwear?"

"Well, I do have that new Left Behind book launch later this morning, a couple of preachers to corrupt before 10ish, and my usual afternoon German scat porn viewing with my boy Karl out in Washington..."

"Karl who?"

"Oh you know I can't say. But, well...you don't think the political party goons have box seats in Heaven, do you?"

Satan winks. I hate it when he winks.

He follows me downstairs, through the living room, into the kitchen. As I'm fixing the coffee, Don Diablo's stealing Mp3s off my laptop. He walks over to the stereo and puts on Robert Johnson's King of the Delta Blues Singers.

I tried ignoring the motherfucker, but, well, it's damned near impossible to ignore a huge reddish man in a white suit, a virtual Tom Wolfe/John Waters clone who stinks of brimstone.

"So what the fuck do you want from me?" I ask.

"I want your first-born child's immortal soul."

Donnie D. just stares at me with this serious look on his face, then bursts into laughter.

"Dude, that's like so 1654. Besides, your soul ain't worth shit on eBay."

I'm not amused.

Lucifer walks into the kitchen, I hear the microwave door open, and helplessly watch as the Fallen One devours my breakfast.

"I need you to do me a favor"

"Oh, for fuck's sake...what? I'll do whatever you want...just leave me alone already."

The Devil picks up my coffee cup and takes a big sip of my first cup o the day. When he sits the mug down, I notice chunks of food floating in there.

Hell hath no fury like the Devil's backwash.

Satan let loose a ferocious belch before he spoke again.

"I need you to go back to being that fucking asshole we all knew and admired down in the Pit. We had so much hope for you, actually. You used to be such a fun guy."

I got up and poured myself a new cup of joe, in a clean mug.

"Remember that girl with the George Clinton dreadlocks in the port-o-john in Morro Bay? That hot waitress in Baton Rouge?

"How about that 43-year-old? You totally knew she was married, man - don't lie. The tanline on her ring finger, the "you're my son's age" slip-up, and, oh yeah, how can I forget, the fact that you'd just been shot down by her daughter...that was VENGEFUL SHIT..."

I turned on the T.V., put on Headline News, and tried to ignore Old Scratch.

"C'mon. Remember T__? The hood of that old Dodge pick-up you had? Back in '97? Right on the corner of 23rd Avenue and 12th Street in Greeley... that was pretty cool."

My ears perk up a bit. Recognizing this old trick, I get up and change the CD in the stereo. Good - the fucker forgot to take out Live at Folsom Prison.

Don Diablo stretches out on the couch, relights his Maduro, and stares at the television.

"Oh, and we can't forget about M____. Man, talk about a firecracker. I still can' believe you're embarrassed that your roommate caught you guys using HER fuzzy handcuffs in HER bathroom."

I can't take it anymore.

"Dude, either tell me what you want or get the flying fuck out of my life. I lived it and I don't need a history lesson from a wannabe antagonist. Go bug John Milton or something."

The Devil just laughed.

"You know, I laughed when you told that girl a few weeks ago that you don't really care about sex anymore," Donnie D. said. "That was the funniest damn thing I've heard come out of your mouth in months.

"Clock's ticking, my man. You're closer to 40 than you are to 14. And I know your sorry ass...."

I finally decided to do what I usually do when the Devil comes a-callin'. I picked up my mankini-covered ass and left him flipping through the channels, trying to decide between watching infomercials or VH1.

I went up to the bathroom, took a shower, intentionally forgot to shave, and went to work. And it was a very good day, actually.

Cross-posted at The Zenformation Professional.

What they don't tell us!!!!!

2006-05-30T20:32:00.000-07:00

So this has been picking at my brain for the last 36 hours. While hanging out with wonderboy I had to ask why he does it. Does he believe in why we are in Iraq and what is life really like? I was floored by what he told me and started doing homework through some of the back channels that I shouldn't go into what I found out don't believe all the hype.

Here is what I learned. Wonderboy doesn't agree with how we got over there but can look at me and tell me that we can't leave. He explains it to me like this (keep in mind I like simple) If there was a bully picking on a smaller kid on the playground there would be a whole bunch of people standing around watching rooting for the underdog. When the teacher comes in and breaks up the whole situation the smaller kid knows that as soon as the teachers back is turned the bully will be back. We are the teacher and until the smaller kid establishes either a group people to hang out with or becomes stronger we would be throwing him to the wolves.
Maybe it is me but I like that explanation. What I found out is he is right. If the US would pull out it would be lives that are lost.

So I asked him how he felt about the things that we see in the news media. For instance the media frenzy over the soldiers that went into the home and killed those people children included. His response shocked me but the respect I have only grew. The rules of engagement are black and white. You are told that if your life or that of your unit is directly in mortal danger only then can you engage. (then he laughed) He told me that what people don't understand is mortal danger is not uncommon. An IED is a bomb that is created for the soul purpose of killing United States Soldiers. Sometimes they are controlled with a remote or cell phone. Sometimes they are strapped to a human being. Sometimes they are wired. In the case that the news media is going up in arms about the IED was wired to the building that the Soldiers stormed. Someone in that building made that bomb go off with the soul intent of killing US Soldiers. What is worse is that the other people in that building were protecting those trying to kill soldiers. So they went in and in fair warning gave the people the chance to be detained or killed. I don’t' know about you but if someone just tried to blow up me and a bunch of my friends I wouldn't be too friendly either. The ones that were killed were running for more wires.

Then the big stink comes with well there were children. The media doesn't do their homework very well. Kids as young as 4 years old have parents that strap bombs to them and tell them to go play with the soldiers. It is sad when the same soldiers that someone is trying to blow up have more respect for children then their own parents.

SO I had to ask the big question. Women in the military and on front lines? What can I say I like to pick a good fight. For the 1st time ever I was beaten fair and square with an argument I couldn't fight. I shall explain. He brought up Jessica Lynch and was very angry. The news media made JL out to be a hero. What they didn't tell us is disgusting. A soldier is taught to never leave a man behind, fight to protect yourself and your unit, and if in a dire situation never surrender. It is better to be tried by 12 than carried by 6. JL used the fact that she was a woman to lay down and wait. She was a coward. She used the fact that she was a woman as a bargaining chip to save her own sorry ass and because of that others in her unit died she is now sitting on her ass collecting money from the government for letting others in her unit die, and if life doesn't suck enough she is going to write a book about her tragic experience. FUCK THAT. There was no gun shot residue. GSR is really tough to get rid of. By the time the US military got in touch with her, her wounds had been cleaned and dressed but she was wearing the same unwashed clothes. Her hair and her hands had not been touched. What the US Military find not one little bit of GSR in her hair or any of her clothing, there was her blood but no GSR. She never fired a shot, she got hit and was able to move but made a choice to lay down and play dead while others in her unit fought to pull back and even died trying to get to her to save her sorry ass. Yet she has become an American hero.

So should women be in the military the answer was yes. Should they be in front line combat? The answer NO. The reason according to wonderboy is my new favorite. Women are more than capable they can do all the same things men can do. In fact some of them they can do better especially when it comes to some of the more instinct based decisions. The reason women should not be in combat is men. One of the things taught in the military is respect. The US Military has harsher punishments for Domestic Violence than any one of the 50 states. Women are on the top of the list of things to respect. His explanation was simple. I was taught to respect and protect women through my family and the military. If I am in combat and a woman is next to me instinct is to protect her. The split second it takes to go against that instinct is all it can take for me to be in a box.

As wonderboy preps to go back I have a new perspective. I may not agree but the men and women are over there because they have honored, respect, and made a commitment. I know some 50 year olds who can't even fall in that group. I know the news media has the power to spin it any way they want. What you don't hear about is the soldiers that save and protect. You don't hear about the group that runs supplies to cities that have been cut off and risk their own asses to bring food to someone that they don't even know. You don't hear about the children that are getting educations, or the groups that are receiving medical care.

Next time find your own perspective and don't believe everything you hear on TV.

2006-05-29T13:41:00.000-07:00

Masculinity

and the

Male Gender Role

It amazes me how much gender confusion there is out there today. This phenomena has been brought to my attention over and over and over in the past few months. One of the big reasons I started really thinking about the definitions of the "MALE GENDER ROLE" and the definitions of masulinity is because my son has really started to carry stuffed animals around and even baby dolls with him. This really bothers my father, but given the fact there has been so much transition and stress in our lives, I think it can actually be a security item that he is carrying with him rather than anything more complicated. I keep telling my dad, we need to give him a little time to get a little more acclaimated to the situation and he will stop playing with the stuffed animals and baby dolls as much.

Also, recently two men that are very dear to my heart made a comment about how it wasn't a "masculine" thing to do. With both of these dear men, I said to them, "Why did you just say that?" None of the comments either of these two incredible gentlemen had said had been anything more than just a sensitive and tender feeling or action they had experienced or something they had done that they somehow had convinced themselves that they should be embarrassed about because it wasn't a "masculine thing to do."

In the Brainy dictionary, Masculine is defined as, "Of the male sex; not female. Having the qualities of a man; suitable to, or characteristic of, a man; virile; not feminine or effeminate; strong; robust. Belonging to males; appropriated to, or used by, males. Having the inflections of, or construed with, words pertaining especially to male beings, as distinguished from feminine and neuter."

"According to Gerda Lerner in The Creation of Patriarchy, gender is the 'costume, a mask, a straitjacket in which men and women dance their unequal dance' (p. 238)." Society or one's culture is what is the defining factor in what makes a man define himself as a man. The The Society for the Psychological Study of Men and Masculinity (SPSMM) , "promotes the critical study of how gender shapes and constricts men’s lives, and is committed to an enhancement of men’s capacity to experience their full human potential. SPSMM endeavors to erode constraining definitions of masculinity which historically have inhibited men’s development, their capacity to form meaningful relationships, and have contributed to the oppression of other people."

Children's Perceptions of Male Stereotypes are found often times on "on television, most men and boys usually keep their attention focused mostly just on women and girls, many males on TV are violent and angry, men are generally leaders and problem-solvers, males are funny, confident, successful and athletic, it’s rare to see men or boys crying or otherwise showing vulnerability, male characters on TV could not be described as "sensitive", male characters are mostly shown in the workplace, and only rarely at home,more than a third of the boys had never seen a man on TV doing domestic chores."

Some of how we define ourselves as a female or male is just genetic or there due to the fact we are male or female. Now my children took on some of these roles on their own when they were tiny. Kaylee liked baby dolls and Sebastian liked cars, legos and trains, but now as they are getting older they are liking a larger array of things. From the time we are tiny children it is ingrained in our minds that men and women are different, beyond just the physique making us "male and female". The Mother Goose Nursery Rhyme: What are Little Boys made of poem is one at least I knew and loved as a young child.

"What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails, and puppy dogs tails
That's what little boys are made of !
"What are little girls made of?"
Sugar and spice and all things nice
That's what little girls are made of!"

Years ago, Native American boys would have to go out into the wilderness when it came time to prove their manhood. It came time for Running Bear and Falling Rock to go out and prove their manhood in the wilderness. After a week Running Bear came back and there was a big celebration to celebrate his achievement and promotion to manhood. As the second week came and went and still no Falling Rock, the tribe started to get concerned. Eventually they started looking for him, they looked everywhere and couldn't find him, but missed him and were really worried about him. Still to this day as you drive down the highway, you will see signs saying, "Watch out for Falling Rock."

Now even though that story was just humorous, it illustrates that in each culture we all have different guidelines that define your gender role. I was talking with the the Zenfo Pro and he very well illustrated how "in this country only two hundred years ago, masculinity was defined by men in tights, wigs and lip gloss..." Today, you would get a very different response when seeing a man wearing the same wardrobe.

Gender issues in mental health is an article from http://www.healthline.com and I am going to use bits and pieces from this article for you to read.

"The term gender is often used to classify the anatomy of a person's reproductive system as either male or female. In the social sciences, however, the concept of gender means much more than biological sex. It refers to socially constructed expectations regarding the ways in which one should think and behave, depending on sexual classification. These stereotypical expectations are commonly referred to as gender roles. Attitudes toward gender roles are thought to result from complex interactions among societal, cultural, familial, religious, ethnic, and political influences.

In primitive societies, men adopted the roles of hunting and protecting their families because of their physical strength. Women's ability to bear and nurse children led them to adopt the roles of nurturing young, as well as the less physically dependent roles of gathering and preparing food.

Nancy Chodorow's object-relations theory (in 1978) favored neither sex. She proposed that children develop according to interactions with their primary caregivers, who tend to be mothers. Mothers identify with girls to a greater extent, fostering an ability to form rich interpersonal relationships, as well as dependency traits. Mothers push boys toward independence, helping them to adjust to the male-dominated work environment, but rendering them unaccustomed to emotional connection.

The general consensus seems to be that gender is socially constructed rather than biologically determined. The process of learning gender roles is known as socialization. Children learn which behaviors are acceptable or not acceptable for their sex by observing other people.

An individual may personally disregard gender expectations, but society may disapprove of his or her behavior and impose external social consequences. On the other hand, an individual may feel internal shame if he or she experiences emotions or desires characteristic of the opposite sex. Gender role conflict, or gender role stress, results when there is a discrepancy between how one believes he or she should act- based on gender role expectations learned in childhood- and how one actually thinks, feels, or behaves. If these discrepancies are unresolved, gender role conflict contributes to poor mental health.

Men's issues

Typical stressors

Situations that typically produce stress for men are those which challenge their self-identity and cause them to feel inadequate. If their identity closely matches a traditional male role, they will experience stress in situations requiring subordination to women or emotional expressiveness. They will also experience stress if they feel they are not meeting expectations for superior physical strength, intellect, or sexual performance. Research indicates that men who strictly adhere to extreme gender roles are at higher risk for mental disorders.

Certain cultures are thought to adhere more strictly to traditional male gender roles. In a study by Jose Abreu and colleagues, Latino men were identified as adopting the most exaggerated form of masculinity, followed by European Americans, and then African Americans. The Latino image of masculinity is often referred to as machismo and includes such qualities as concern for personal honor, virility, physical strength, heavy drinking, toughness, aggression, risk-taking, authoritarianism, and self-centeredness. African American males are also thought to have a unique image of masculinity; however, Abreu's study showed that African Americans are more egalitarian in terms of gender roles than European Americans.

Typical coping strategies

Men typically respond to stress by putting on a tough image, keeping their feelings inside, releasing stress through such activities as sports, actively attempting to solve the problem, denying the problem, abusing drugs or alcohol, or otherwise attempting to control the problem.

Typical patterns of psychopathology

Men are more likely than women to experience externalizing disorders. Externalizing disorders are characterized by symptoms involving negative outward behavior as opposed to internal negative emotions. Such externalizing disorders as substance abuse (both drugs and alcohol) and antisocial behavior (such as anger, hostility, aggression, violence, stealing, etc.) are common to men. Substance abuse results in such negative physical and social consequences as hallucinations, blackouts, physical dependency, job loss, divorce, arrests, organ and brain damage, and financial debt. Antisocial behavior impairs interpersonal relationships and can also result in negative consequences in other areas of life, such as runins with the criminal justice system.

Men are not exempt from such internalizing disorders as anxiety and depression. In fact, one study found that high levels of masculinity appear to be related to depression in males. Some researchers feel that men's abuse of substances could be considered the male version of depression. Because male gender roles discourage admitting vulnerability, men may resort to substance abuse as a way of covering their feelings.

Men who adhere to rigid gender roles are also at a disadvantage in interpersonal relationships, especially intimate relationships. They may avoid emotional expressiveness, or may behave in domineering and hostile ways. These behaviors increase their risk of social isolation, disconnection from nurturance, and participation in unhealthy relationships."

I think that as a man becomes an adult his masculinity should be defined by his virtue. I loved this definition of virtue. "Manly strength or courage; bravery; daring; spirit; valor. Active quality or power; capacity or power adequate to the production of a given effect; energy; strength; potency; efficacy; as, the virtue of a medicine. Energy or influence operating without contact of the material or sensible substance. Excellence; value; merit; meritoriousness; worth. Specifically, moral excellence; integrity of character; purity of soul; performance of duty. A particular moral excellence; as, the virtue of temperance, of charity, etc."

>•.¸(¯`'•.¸ My primary reason to bring this up and give all this information is to say I think that the most important part of masculinity is being a man and being comfortable in your skin. You are a man, by physique and you NEED to be happy with yourself and how you live your life. Most of how the media portrays people and the stereotypes to make us feel we should live up to is a false mold. Be yourself and stop trying to fit in the mold that isn't real anyways. Be true to yourself and your family. You will enjoy life much more! .•'´¯)¸.•<

GENDER TIMES

The same passions in man and woman nonetheless differ in tempo; hence man and woman do not cease misunderstanding one another.

~*~Friedrich Nietzsche~*~

"I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you for the part of me that you bring out."

~*~Elizabeth Barrett Browning~*~

2006-05-25T20:26:00.000-07:00

"We must concentrate on what we can do and erase "can't," "won't" and "don't think so" from our vocabulary."

~*~Cardiss Collins~*~

2006-05-25T05:53:00.000-07:00

"I am not a quitter. I will fight until I drop.That is a strength that is in my sinew...It is just a matter of having some faith in the fact that as long as you are able to draw breath in this universe you have a chance!"

~*~Cicely Tyson~*~

George Carlin's new rules for 2006

2006-05-23T12:08:00.000-07:00

New Rule: - Stop giving me that pop-up ad for Classmates.com!
There's a reason you don't talk to people for 25 years. Because you don't particularly like them! Besides, I already know what the captain of the football team is doing these days: - mowing my lawn.

New Rule: - Don't eat anything that's served to you out a window unless you're a seagull. People are acting all shocked that a human finger was found in a bowl of Wendy's chili. Hey, it cost less than a dollar. What did you expect it to contain? Trout?

New Rule: - Stop saying that teenage boys who have sex with their hot, blonde teachers are permanently damaged. I have a better description for these kids: - lucky bastards.

New Rule: - If you need to shave and you still collect baseball cards, you're gay. If you're a kid, the cards are keepsakes of your idols. If you're a grown man, they're pictures of men.

New Rule: - Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here's how much men care about your eyebrows: - do you have two of them? Okay, we're done.

New Rule: - There's no such thing as flavored water. There's a whole aisle of this crap at the supermarket? Water, but without that watery taste. Sorry, but flavored water is called a soft drink. You want flavored water? Pour some scotch over ice and let it melt. That's your flavored water.

New Rule: - The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the asshole. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a "decaf grande half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low and one NutraSweet," ooh, you're a huge asshole.

New Rule: - I'm not the cashier! By the time I look up from sliding my card, entering my PIN number, pressing "Enter," verifying the amount, deciding, no, I don't want cash back, and pressing "Enter" again, the kid who is supposed to be ringing me up is standing there eating my Almond Joy.

New Rule: - Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn't make you spiritual. It's right above the crack of your ass. And it translates to "beef with broccoli." The last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying to God you weren't pregnant. You're not spiritual. You're just high.

New Rule: - I don't need a bigger mega M&M. If I'm extra hungry for M&Ms, I'll go nuts and eat two.

New Rule: - If you're going to insist on making movies based on crappy, old television shows, then you have to give everyone in the Cineplex a remote so we can see what's playing on the other screens. Let's remember the reason something was a television show in the first place is that the idea wasn't good enough to be a movie.

New Rule: - No more gift registries. You know, it used to be just for weddings. Now it's for babies and new homes and graduations from rehab. Picking out the stuff you want and having other people buy it for you isn't gift giving, it's the white people's version of looting.

New Rule: - And this one is long overdue: - No more bathroom attendants. After I zip up, some guy is offering me a towel and a mint like I just had sex with George Michael. I can't even tell if he's supposed to be there, or just some freak with a fetish. I don't want to be on your webcam, dude. I just want to wash my hands.

New Rule: - When I ask how old your toddler is, I don't need to know in months. "27 Months." "He's two," will do just fine. He's not a cheese. And I didn't really care in the first place.

2006-05-23T06:40:00.000-07:00

"We've got to learn hard things in our lifetime, but it's love that gives you the strength. It's being nice to people and having a lot of fun and laughing harder than anything, hopefully every single day of your life."

~*~Drew Barrymore~*~

2006-05-20T17:41:00.000-07:00

"Seize this very minute - What you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Only engage, and then the mind grows heated - Begin it, and the work will be completed!"

~*~Goethe~*~

2006-05-18T13:18:00.000-07:00

"When the first baby laughed for the first time, the laugh broke into a thousand pieces and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies."

~*~J.M. Barrie~*~

The time has come the walrus said to speak of many things...

2006-05-18T13:05:00.000-07:00

"The time has come," the Walrus said,"To talk of many things: Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--Of cabbages--and kings--And why the sea is boiling hot--And whether pigs have wings."

~*~Lewis Carroll~*~

2006-05-15T10:37:00.000-07:00

When the sky disintegrates and turns rose colored like paint. Which of your LORD'S marvels can you deny?

Angel

2006-05-14T07:25:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, there was a child ready to be born. He asked God,

They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow, but how am I going to live there being so small and helpless?

Among the many angels, I chose one for you. She will be waiting for you and will take care of you.

But here in heaven, I don't do anything but sing and smile, and that's enough for me to be happy.

Your angel will sing for you and will also smile for you everyday. And you will feel your angel's love and be happy.

And how am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me, if I don't know the language that men talk?

Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will ever hear, and with much patience and care, your angel will teach you how to speak.

And what am I going to do when I want to talk to You?

Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you how to pray.

I've heard that on earth there are bad men. Who will protect me?

Your angel will defend you even if it means risking Life.

But I will always be sad because I will not see You anymore.

Your angel will always talk to you about me and will teach you the way to come back to me, and I will always be next to you.

At that moment there was a peace in heaven, and voices from earth could already be heard. The child in a hurry asked softly:

Oh God, if I am about to leave now, please tell me my angel's name.

Your angel's name is of no importance, you will simply call her "Mother."

(Poem by Kenneth Clay)

2006-05-10T18:27:00.000-07:00

"If I have the BELIEF that I can do it, I shall surely acquire the CAPACITY to do it even if I may not have it at the beginning!"
-- Mahatma Gahndi

No Other Way

2006-05-09T18:39:00.000-07:00

When your mind is a mess
So is mine
I cant sleep
Cause it hurts when I think

My thoughts aren't at peace
With the plans that we make
Chances we take
They're not yours and not mine
There's waves that can break

All the words that we say
And the words that we mean
Words can fall short
Can't see the unseen
Cause the world is awake
For somebody's sake now,
please close your eyes woman
Please get some sleep
And know that if I knew
All of the answers I would
Not hold them from you'd
Know all the things that I'd know
We told each other,
there is no other way

Well too much silence can be misleading
You're drifting I can hear it in the way that your breathing
We don't really need to find reason
Cause out the same door that it came well its leaving its leaving
Leaving like a day that's done and part of a season

Resolve is just a concept that's as dead as the leaves
But at least we can sleep, its all that we need
When we wake we will find
Our minds will be free to go to sleep
And know that if I knew
All of the answers I would
Not hold them from you'd
Know all the things that i'd know

We told each other, there is no other way

2006-04-21T20:01:00.000-07:00

"Start by doing what's necessary, then what's possible, and suddenly you are doing the impossible!"
-- Saint Francis of Assisi

Reflections

2006-04-02T18:12:00.000-07:00

"A little boy and his father were walking on the mountains. To his surprise, he hears the voice repeating, somewhere in the mountain:"AAAhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"

Curious, the little boy yells: "Who are you?"
He receives the answer: "Who are you?"

And then the boy screams to the mountain: "You're Stupid"
The voice answers: "You're Stupid"

Frustrated at the response, the boy screams: "I Hate You"
He receives the answer: "I Hate You"

He looks to his father and asks: "What's going on?"

The father smiles and says: "My son, pay attention."
The man screams: "You are a champion!"
The voice answers: "You are a champion!"

The boy is surprised, but does not understand. Then the father explains: "People call this ECHO, but really this is LIFE. It gives you back everything you say or do. Our life is simply a reflection of our actions.If you want more love in the world, create more love in your heart. If you want people to respect you, respect them.This relationship applies to everything, in all aspects of life. Life will give you back everything you have given to it.Your Life is not a Coincidence. It's a Reflection of You!

Aesop's Fables...

2006-03-28T09:10:00.000-08:00

"Aesop was a Greek slave who lived thousand of years ago. He was a very clever story teller. His stories are called fables. Each story has a moral that teaches a lesson. We usually discover the moral after we have read the story and think about it. The fables of Aesop teach us as much today as they taught the Ancient Greeks."- Brimax Classics

I will share a few of the morals from some of the stories (or fables) with you from the Aesop's Fables done by Brimax Classics.

The Boy Who Cried Wolf - Moral--> You should mean what you say.
The Hare and the Tortoise - Moral --> Keep your mind on a job until it is finished.
The Fox and the Stork - Moral --> Something which is funny when it happens to someone else, may not be so funny if it happens to us.
The Birds, the Beasts and the Bat - Moral --> Real friends do not desert us when we are in trouble.
The Bee-Keeper and the Bees - Moral --> Ask questions before you act, or you may do something silly.
The Boy and the Hazelnuts - Moral --> Do not try to take too much at one time.
The Grasshopper and the Ants - Moral --> We should always make plans for the future. The Eagle and the Beetle - Moral --> Never stop trying.
The Quack Frog - Moral --> Cheating is always found out.
The Mice and the Weasels - Moral --> What we do is more important than how we look.
The Dog and His Reflection - Moral --> We should be happy with what we have.

2006-02-27T07:09:00.000-08:00

"Live life that you are neither afraid of tomorrow, nor ashamed of yesterday." (Someone wise)

Beautiful Rays of Sunshine

2006-02-24T21:16:00.000-08:00

The rays of sunshine pierced the darkness,

Bringing warmth and casting the light of hope.

This hope planted seeds of life back in my heart;

Slowly the seeds began growing beneath the surface

This growth at first was unvisible to anyone, but was taking place

Despite the odds and in the midst of hopless darkness.

The happy rays of sunshine you gave me

Made the rain and thunderstorms more bareable

The cool rain still would beat down on me

The thunder and lightning still rolled and crashed

I saw many trees struck by the lightning and split in two

The wind would howl and beat against and chap my face

Yet as it let up, your warm loving rays of sunshine pierced through the darkness

It created a magnificent rainbow showing hope's Brillance and beauty

The storms still come and the darkness is not gone,

But hope has been firmly rooted in my heart

Thank you for your beautiful rays of sunshine, you saved my life.

I will never forget the kindness you have bestowed upon my heart.

I am eternally greatful to you. I love you.

In Honor of Valentine's Day...

2006-02-14T17:29:00.000-08:00

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways..."

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with a passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

Painted Face

2006-02-12T13:08:00.000-08:00

She paints her face trying to erase the feelings of self worthlessness she feels inside.

"I better hurry he'll be here soon to pick me up, hmm... Do you think if I give him some he'll stay with me? What should I wear... is this seductive enough to suit his desires? I really wish this wasn't the only way I could get his love and affection, but what else do I really have to offer... nothing!"

As she gets ready these thoughts run through her mind over and over like a marathon runner preparing for his big meet.

DING DONG. She runs to the door to greet him careful of every little move either of them make. As their evening comes to a close, she finds out that just as she thought, he wants the very thing she knew she had that would attract him. She sleeps with him only in hope that he'll stay with her and will love her.

After he drops her off, she never sees him again. All he wanted was a higher score of girls he could play. He wasn't really interested in her at all. What a shame, now her heart is broken and she feels used and very dirty. All she really has left is her name and her shame. Now she is ready to repeat this destroying cycle all over again because she sees FRED THE SEXY MILK MAN walk up to the door. She really likes his technique used to ring the doorbell. "Maybe this is it! Where's my breath spray?"

2006-02-08T15:42:00.000-08:00

You can work miracles by having faith in others. To get the best out of people, choose to think and believe the best about them.
-Bob Moawad

Things my heart used to know things it yearns to remember...

2006-02-07T09:57:00.000-08:00

I have had things come to me in bits and pieces and I have begun to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. I will share a bit of it with you...

If you click on the title there is a link to a midi file that is from the Movie Anastasia... this song I started to listen to as I started to write out my thoughts. At first when I was at home on short term disability for my depression, I was bored and wanted to take advantage of my time and try to work through things. My mind was blank. It was like there was this blank page. Then the next day, I sat there. And I had a vision, I will share it with you... it is a little demented, but I am going to share it with you....

It was about anticipation... like a child so excited for Santa Claus to come, but as she went to sleep and had dreams of sugar plums dancing in her head, then this nasty horrible demon with HUGE TALONS, like HUGE EAGLE TALONS, came and ripped him to shreds and killed him...

When I wrote that I was thinking it was my virginity... but, have you ever thought everything that you were dealing with was one problem... then something hits you smack in the face and ... you realize its something completely different? I started listening to this song as memories started flooding my mind and I realized I had a much bigger fish to fry. It was a trip though because this song is about remembering something you ALMOST remember... here are the lyrics...

"Once Upon a December"
Dancing bears,
Painted wings,
Things I almost remember,
And a song someone sings
Once upon a December.

Someone holds me safe and warm.
Horses prance through a silver storm.
Figures dancing gracefully
Across my memory...
(Instrumental interlude)

Someone holds me safe and warm.
Horses prance through a silver storm.
Figures dancing gracefully
Across my memory...

Far away, long ago,
Glowing dim as an ember,
Things my heart
Used to know,
Things it yearns to remember...

And a song
Someone sings
Once upon a December

"My December"- Lyrics from a song by Linkin Park

2006-02-07T06:26:00.000-08:00

I have found myself listening to certain songs over and over lately. This is one of the songs that has helped me with some of my introspection and sorting of my thoughts. Here are the lyrics to one of my newest favorite songs....

"My December"

This is my December

This is my time of the year

This is my December

This is all so clear

This is my December

This is my snow covered home

This is my December

This is me alone

And I

Just wish that

I didn't feel

Like there was

Something I missed

And I

Take back all

The things I said

To make you

Feel like that

And I

Just wish that

I didn't feel

Like there was

Something I missed

And I

Take back all the

Things I said to you

And I give it all away

Just to have somewhere

To go to

Give it all away

To have someone

To come home to

This is my December

These are my snow covered dreams

This is me pretending

This is all I need

And I

Just wish that

I didn't feel

Like there was

Something I missed

And I

Take back all

The things I said

To make you feel like that

And I

Just wish that

I didn't feel

Like there was

Something I missed

And I

Take back all the things

I said to you

And I give it all away

Just to have

Somewhere to go to

Give it all away

To have someone

To come home to

This is my December

This is my time of the year

This is my December

This is all so clear

And I give it all away

Just to have somewhere

To go to

Give it all away

To have someone

To come home to

And I give it all away

Just to have somewhere

To go to

Give it all away

To have someone

To come home to

"Darkness"- lyrics from a song by Disturbed from their album Believe

2006-02-07T05:46:00.000-08:00

"Darkness"
by Disturbed from the album Believe

Don't turn away
I pray you've heard
The words I've spoken
Dare to believe
For one last time
Then I'll let the

Darkness cover me
Deny everything
Slowly walk away
To breathe again
On my own

Carry me away
I need your strength
To get me through this
Dare to believe
For one last time
Then I'll let the

Darkness cover me
Deny everything
Slowly walk away
To breathe again
On my own

The unreachable

2006-01-29T20:13:00.001-08:00

Larkins wrote this song the night he realized some things broken can't be fixed. Thank you for trying.

This broken land
of one night stands
hour the falling sands
tick your life
into the ground
Hear the cry of broken minds
feel the sighs
through salty tears they cant describe
as their hearts they lied
and slowly turned to stone.

On failing wings you tried to sore
intentions right but how things they go astray
I saw you fall and came to help
but pushed aside
your foolish pride
was all you let me see

I felt you crack and lose your strenth
The lies were etched across your face
and you were gone.

So inpatient to help you feel
to live my life was all I could do.
This epic fight of right and wrong
a warrior born
I drew my sword and charged

And so the story goes
the smoke cleared though
and only you stood

I took the knife somewhere that night
and died upon that floor
and from the clouds I saw you smile
and elation filled your eyes
and so I turned and walked away
with a pride filled heart
because you had survived
This ride
called life.

I've Just got to Breathe

2006-01-29T20:08:00.000-08:00

Last night I thought about you
and the tears ran free
and my body shook
the minutes seemed like hours
and I needed the feel
your touch to hear your voice
but emplyt silence prevailed
But last night I thought about you
I cauth myself on the edge
watching the world move around me
and I screamed
but their laughter filled my ears
their false smiles
and foolish wishes
made my stomach turn
I yelled for them to stop
to see the madness they were making
and gasped in shock
for their wasted lives
were my own
and their uncomfortable grins
and shocked giggles
were all for me
Just a Mad Man raving again

From Larkins a man who forced me to be alive Thank you

2006-01-29T07:53:00.000-08:00

Please Hear What I'm Not Saying
Author-Anonymous

Don't be fooled by me.
Don’t be fooled by the face I wear.
For I wear a thousand masks, masks that I'm afraid to take off, and none of them are me.
Pretending is an art that's second nature with me, but don’t be fooled.
I give the impression that I'm secure, that all is sunny and unruffled within and without, that confidence is my name and coolness my game: that the water is calm and I'm in command, and that I need no one, but don't believe me, please.

My surface may seem smooth, but my surface is my mask.
Beneath this lies no complacence, beneath this lies the real me in confusion, fear, and aloneness.
But I hide this.
I don’t want anybody to know it.
I panic at the thought of my weakness and fear being exposed.
That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind, avon-chalant, sophisticated façade, to help me pretend, to shield me from the glance that knows.
But such a glance is precisely my salvation, and I know it.
That is if it's followed by love.
It's the only thing that will assure me of what I can't assure myself, that I'm worth something.
But I won't tell you this.
I don’t dare I'm afraid to.
I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance and love.
I'm afraid you'll think less of me, that you'll laugh at me, and your laugh would kill me.
I'm afraid that deep-down I'm nothing, that I'm no good and that you will see that and reject me.
So I play my game, my desperate game, with a façade of assurance without and a trembling child within.

I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk.
I tell you everything that is really nothing and nothing of what is everything, of what's crying within me: so when I'm going through my routine do not be fooled by what I am saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying. What for survival I need to say, but what I can't say.

I dislike hiding. Honestly!
I dislike the superficial game I'm playing, the phony game.
I'd really like to be genuine and spontaneous and me, but you've got to help me.
You've got to hold out your hand even when that's the last thing I seem to want.
Only you can wipe away from my eyes the blank stare of breathing death.
Only you can call me into aliveness.
Each time you're kind and gentle and encouraging, each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings, very small wings, very feeble wings, but wings.
With your sensitivity and sympathy and your power of understanding, you can breathe life into me.
I want you to know that.
I want you to know how important you are to me, how you can be the creator of the person that is me, if you choose to.
You alone can release me from my shadow world of panic and uncertainty from my lonely person.

Do not pass me by. Please, please, do not pass me by.

It will not be easy for you.
A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.
The nearer you approach me, the harder I strike back.
I fight for the very thing I cry out for.
But I am told that love is stronger than walls, and in this is my hope.
Please try to bear down those walls with firm hands, but gentle hands- for a child is very sensitive.

Who am I you may wonder, I am someone you know very well. For I am every man you meet and I am every woman you meet.

Life in Comparison

2006-01-06T10:18:00.000-08:00

Life can be compared to many many things. It can be compared to a rollarcostar, it can be compared to a rug, it can be compared to a river or book... the sky or the weather.

The rollarcoaster in being that it has severe ups and downs turns and twists and can be very exciting and scary all at the same time.

A rug in the fashion that we have relationships and we dont know what they will bring about in the scheme of time, but that they will accomplish something along the line and every thread has a purpose in the big rug of life.

A river being beautiful, deep and shallow, calm at times and white water rapids at times, and life beneath the surface.

A book because there are so many chapters and phases in our lifes that come and go

The weather... what beautiful imagery... only after the storms can the beautiful and mysterious magical rainbows can be seen... some storms can be so scary and devastating but you cant enjoy the beauty of the rainbow until the storm has cleared.

Tongues

2006-01-02T17:15:00.000-08:00

THE TONGUE CAN BE YOUR WORSE ENEMY!

Your words, your dreams, and your thoughts have power to create conditions in your life. What you speak about, you can bring about.

If you keep saying you can't stand your job, you might lose your job.

If you keep saying you can't stand your body, your body can become sick.

If you keep saying you can't stand your car, your car could be stolen or just stop operating.

If you keep saying you're broke, guess what? You'll always be broke.

If you keep saying you can't trust a man or trust a woman, you will always find someone in your life to hurt and betray you.

If you keep saying you can't find a job, you will remain unemployed.

If you keep saying you can't find someone to love you or believe in you, your very thought will attract more experiences to confirm your beliefs.

If you keep talking about a divorce or break up in a relationship, then you might end up with it.

Turn your thoughts and conversations around to be more positive and power packed with faith, hope, love and action.

Don't be afraid to believe that you can have what you want and deserve.

Watch your Thoughts, they become words.
Watch your words, they become actions
Watch your actions, they become habits.
Watch your Habits, they become character.
Watch your Character, for it becomes your Destiny

The minute you settle for less than you deserve, you get even less than you settle for.

in(v)ertion

2005-12-17T12:03:00.000-08:00

hello, readership.
this is ogbuefi stephi, and i am a new poster to this magnificent compilation blog (thanks to j, aka the infobountyhunter).
seeing as i'm done with finals and now home for the holidays and sadly a little bored at the moment, i thought i'd make my inaugural post.

so here's the poem i wrote for my women and theatre final performance. hope you don't regret inviting me to join the crew, j.

hahaha or not,
stephanie

in(v)ertion

a choreopoem,
auditory (bri)col(l)age,
& staged transfiguration

in 3 movements
(to be bound then writhed then stripped, freed and soared)

[ for my lacanian other ]

" --O swallow swallow...
These fragments I have shored against my ruins"
T.S. Eliot, "V. What the Thunder Said," The Wasteland

you said to use my mouth
well, I’m using it now, aren't I?

and there's more than a mouth here.

there's a mind that thinks
and eyes that see
and ears that hear
and a tongue that tastes
and a body that feels
and a heart that's crying now.

and you say you love women
well dammit what am I?
show me in a way I understand
cuz I love women too
and I love the way we women love
and I love all that women are
and all that women have

cuz there's more than a mouth and a cunt lying in this bed.

there's a spirit
and fragile bones
and strong muscles
and a pounding heart
and crying lungs
the coursing of blood
and tearing of eyes.

there is a girl
a woman
a sister
a mother
a friend
a lover
an enemy
a neighbor
a student
a teacher
a soul and a stirring

a smile
a frown
a furrowed brow
a face full of teeth

and fabulous muscles
and a delicate fluttering heart
and arms that flail
and legs that kick
and fists that clench
and shoulders for the weight of the world
and a neck that risks itself
and two eyes

and don't you forget,
there's a soul inside

don't you dare forget that
behind this
straightened smile
this yoga and pilates and fad diets green tea
-destroyed body

these carefully picked out clothes
and my lathered rinsed repeated hair

behind my unique eyes
my betraying nose
my mother's chin
and my father's jawline
behind the color of my skin,
deeper than my genetics
and my physiology
and my meta-anything,

lies a person.

and don't you dare forget it.
don't you ever forget it.

I am a woman.

Spinning Thoughts

2005-12-06T18:06:00.000-08:00

Midnight Madness
The rustle of the wind wakes me as I lie there
The sleep that I fought so desperately to get
Interrupted
No way to salvage the rest of the night
Restless I wander the house.
Click
The heater rolls over and slowly begins to work
At least I am warm
Light
As I punch the remote to find an infomercial
“Only 99.95 and you too.
Click
Change the channel
Only 1 hour and you can lose inches
Click
Is there nothing on
Just set it and forget it.
Click
Not even the TV can comfort me now.
I curl up and hug the pillow
Sirens
Thoughts of you
What are you doing?
Closer
Are you safe?
Are you OK?
Click
Do you need anything?
Do you need me?
Click
Then I see you
Standing in front of me arms outstretched
BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP
The alarm

More

I love you and I will always love you and you will always have a piece of my heart but you have to strive for your own happiness. You can be so much and have so much and do so much. We will always have each other and those days that make us smile. We will always have a secret with one another that no matter where we are in life or who we are with no one can take away. We make each other strong and make each other weak. We give each other a reason to feel safe. We need more. I understand that now. Do you?
Anonymous

My Girls
I sit looking around the room at my girls
I call them that because they make me what I am
The test my patience
They push me to my limits
They need me
They believe in me but the secret is I only do my best
They believe that I always know
The truth is I make it up
Would it matter if they knew?
I really don’t think so
We work together.
I am only as good as I make them
If I don’t believe in them they will not believe in themselves
Without them I am nothing.

Dumbass Political Fuck Buddy

2005-11-12T08:00:00.000-08:00

"Rubbing alcohol's in the cabinet.
Above the toilet.
Sorry about the cat."

Yeah, I figured that much out.
Your cat just doesn't like me.

As I'm cleaning the wound,
Sitting on the toilet,
She comes into her bathroom,
Copy of Mother Jones in her hand.

She couldn't believe George W. would be campaigning
in San Luis Obispo motherfucking California
in the goddamned summer of 2000.

"Ralph Nader is the only hope for America."

I kept quiet, kept cleaning the wound inflicted
By her dumbass cat.

The little bitch had a nasty set of claws on her.
Its not my fault mommy doesn't clean out the litter box,
Not my fault the apartment is filled with
Che Gueverra posters and Greenpeace fliers and biodiesel
literature than goddamned catfood.

"I think its like sad and stuff, you know.
Gore should just drop out and let progressives like Nader win,
Then we'll get things done, end this destruction of our planet
and stuff."

She's wearing my shirt and I can smell incense burning.
And its 2:30 in the goddamned morning.

I notice a condom hanging from my shirt sleeve.

The shirt she's wearing.

I get up off the toilet and grab the spent contraceptive, flip it into
the trashcan.

"That's really sweet!"
And so she kisses me.
Mother Jones still rolled up in her hand.

Yeah, sweet.
Whatever.
Can I go home now?

No foreplay, bad missionary sex betwixt a drunkard Democrat and
a ganja'd up Green.
Bipartisanship gone awry.
And any afterglow ruined by the refusal to let me light
up a Marlboro on the balcony and one pissed off cat.

"You know,
I think you and me should like do this
more often. Its been awhile since I've been
with a guy and Melissa doesn't really care
Because she's not really a lesbian and we're like both
into experimenting with different things,

"You know?"

Jesus, what was I drinking?

Nomadic Brainchild of the Dunes

2005-11-12T07:35:00.000-08:00

The sun splits the sand, burns holes down into the dust,
Seashells and driftwood lie beneath the surface,
Boots crush crush crush down on the white white floor.

And she sings beautiful ballads to the coastal blossoms,
Humming Mexican folksong through black painted lips,
The sun splits the sand, burns holes down into the dust.

Blankets mere saltwater payday, sweat blended with ocean,
And she bares her breasts towards the Pacific,
And she sings beautiful ballads to the coastal blossoms.

The nakedness of her Indio forebears, her jeans tossed aside,
Boxer drawers and brown flesh seducing the dunes,
Blankets mere saltwater payday, sweat blended with ocean.

(c)2005 - Jason, the Information Bounty Hunter

Around the World in Human Rights Violations...

2005-11-07T16:07:00.000-08:00

FROM AFRICA:

ADDIS ABABA - Ethiopian Prime Minister Zenawi Meles (at left) continues to pursue "reform" in the East African nation, with 24 senior opposition members, civic leaders and journalists making an appearance in a closed court today.

They have yet to be charged with anything, yet have been denied bail. Apparently, protesting over possible election fraud is reason enough for the use of excessive force in the Meles government. Of course, when that possible election fraud appears to benefit your party (Meles' party now controls 2/3 of the Ethiopian parliament), its so easy to deem protesters enemies of the state.

Wow. Those pesky protesters. I'm sure the families of people like 18-year-old Abyei Mulat find comfort in the fact that both the Meles government and the opposition would rather yell at each other than compromise.

The European Union and US government responded in full force, having the British ambassador publicly...read a note?!?

Well, it was a harsh-sounding note...

IN ASIA....

RANGOON, BURMA - Ah...the perks of being one of the world's most eccentric dictators...

Than Shwe, (at left) the brutal cult-of-personality currently running Burma with an iron fist, has ordered government employees to trek halfway across the country to the world's newest - yet barely finished - seat of government.

The employees were ordered to make the 200-mile journey at exactly 6:30 a.m. Sunday, at the advice of Than's senior...astrologer.

Move over Miss Cleo...

Oh yeah, did I mention this new metaphysical mecca was built with the use of forced labor?

FROM EUROPE...

German publication Der Speigel finally hits the nail on the head when it comes to the current rioting in France and the problems with Europe's not-so-hidden version of Jim Crow...

Meanwhile, back in Paris...

Dominique de Villepin's (at left) government has decided to impose a curfew as a way to end the violent protests.

Yeah, that's going to go over BIG amongst the protestors.

Maybe the French PM should try having the British ambassador in Paris read a note.

That seems to be working in Ethiopia.

Wake Up Call

2005-11-07T11:46:00.000-08:00

So I am sitting in bed slumbering enjoying the peaceful quiet of the 15 minutes between snooze button blasting on my alarm clocks and my phone rings. For those people who know me that is like death at 7am. So I let it go to voice mail but the phone rings again. Pissed now I decide I must answer it. My voice comes out of that tired not quite awake place. "hello" I say. "Hey Baby" is the voice on the other end. It took me a minute to place it but it is the guy who is in Iraq. I finally register who it is shoot straight up in bed and damn near fall out of it. We go through the routine of how are you, how are things, what is going on. Then in the background I hear airplanes and gunfire. "What was that?" it sounds so close I think it is over my head. His response just the fly boys showing off. The whole experience was surreal. Here I am warm in my bed and he is thousands of miles away from me with planes rushing overhead and guns laying fire.
I asked him what he misses most. Three answers Sex, Cheese Its, Snickers bars. I can't send the sex but maybe the crackers and snickers. He said he dropped a letter to me in the mail now that they have finally given him a base. I told him that I would talk to him soon and I hope he stays healthy happy and safe.

When he hung up I just kind of sat there. Here is this man that just 7 months ago was sitting next to me in that very bed and now he is calling me from half way around the world where he is defending the freedoms I take for granted and all he wants is a snickers bar. I would give anything to have him safe. I have resolved in my heart and my head that it will never work but somehow he got to me like no one has in a long time. He talked about coming stateside for 6 months and then going back. The thought of that blows my mind yet his dedication and commitment is where he finds purpose. I wonder how many men and women over there feel lost if they are anywhere else as I saw in his eyes so many times. I wonder how many friends and family got the same kind of shocked call as I did. I wonder how many people will be checking their mail box as I will.

I am not sure what or how I feel. All I know is that I am very proud of him and hope he finds what he is looking for

Celebrity Activism: Did Live8 Concerts Really Help, or did they do more Harm than Good?

2005-10-26T05:23:00.000-07:00

Interesting article in this morning's Independent (UK) that examines the problems with global poverty relief organizations relying on Western celebrities as spokespersons for the Developing World:

Do stars really aid the cause?
By Stuart Hodkinson, The Independent (London)

...You bought the wristband, went to the concert, joined the march and rejoiced when a deal was struck to save Africa. But don't be fooled - nothing has changed...
* * * * *
... The [Make Poverty History]coalition's anger has intensified over revelations about Live8's paternalistic treatment of African campaigners and their relationship to corporations operating on the continent. Firoze Manji, the co-director of Fahamu, an African social justice network and a member of G-Cap, recounts how the African coalition had planned a concert in Johannesburg in early July to be held in one of the townships. According to Manji, a meeting of Oxfam GB, Curtis, Geldof and Kumi Naidoo cancelled it in favour of Live8...

- FULL COVERAGE HERE -

Do Westerners, even people like Bono and Bob Geldof, deserve to be treated like the champions of the GLOBAL poverty relief? Are they helping or hurting?

A Farmer's Advice

2005-10-09T19:15:00.000-07:00

Your fences need to be horse-high, pig-tight, and bull-strong.
Keep skunks, bankers, and lawyers at a distance.
Life is simpler when you plow around the stump.
A bumble bee is considerably faster than a John Deere tractor.
Words that soak in your ears are whispered - not yelled.
Forgive your enemies. It messes up their heads.
When you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty.
The best sermons are lived, not preached.
If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stopdigging.
Always drink upstream from the herd.

THE SOLUTION AND HARD TRUTH

2005-09-25T21:35:00.000-07:00

THE SOLUTION TO ALL EVACUATION PROBLEMS IN THE SOUTH IN THE FUTURE. "IF YOU DON'T GET ON THE BUS AND EVACUATE RIGHT NOW YOU HAVE TO SIGN A PIECE OF PAPER THAT STATES YOU WILL RECEIVE NO MORE WELFARE!!!!!"

MOST OF THE PEOPLE WHO LIVE IN NEW ORLEANS WILL NOW HAVE A BETTER LIFE FROM THE MONEY THAT MANY GENEROUS PEOPLE HAVE DONATED ALONG WITH ALL THE TAX DOLLARS THAT WILL BE SUCKED OUT OF THE REST OF THE COUNTRY. THEN SOME ASSHOLE IS GOING TO GET SMART AND SUE THE GOVERNMENT FOR GETTING SICK ON THE WATER AND MORE TAX DOLLARS ARE GOING TO BE FLUSHED. THEN THEY WILL SIT BACK IN THE HOUSE THAT IS BETTER THAN THE ONE THAT THEY LIVED IN COLLECTING WELFARE AND LAUGHING THEIR ASSES OFF.

Pick up lines...

2005-09-18T22:50:00.000-07:00

*If you held up 11 roses in front of a mirror, you would see 12 of the most beautiful things in the world.
*Did your head hurt when that angel dropped you from heaven??
*Hey, baby. I seem to have lost my phone number. Can I have yours?
*If I could be anything I'd be a tear: Born in your eye, live on your cheek, and die at your lips.
*Your Dad must be a jewel thief, cause he stole two diamonds out of the sky and put them in to your eyes!!
*Are you a parking ticket, because you have FINE written all over you!
*(Hand a girl a rose.) I just wanted to show my rose how beautiful you are.
*If I was a puppy would you let me follow you home?
*Hi, my name is Justin. Justin Credible.
*Baby, your eyes shine like the sun when you smile.
*You know those long walks on the beach everyone's always talking about? We should take one sometime.
*The course of true love never does run smooth. But that's okay, 'cause I'm looking forward to a long, bumpy ride with you
*You said you had freckles -- those are beauty marks.
*Hey, kitty, how do I make you purr?
*Your body is a wonderland. Can I be Alice?
*I tattooed this bar code on my arm so you could check me out.

From the LA bubble

2005-09-14T00:41:00.000-07:00

for those of you who know me.. this is not a suprising post.. but for others.. reader beware

as i sit in the comforts of living on the west coast.. i have the luxury when it comes to national disasters like 9-11 and hurricane katrina to feel bad but not really feel effected... i know this sounds harsh and cold.. but being on the opposite coast.. it is rather out of sight, out of mind... on the fateful day of 9-11 i woke up and turned on the tv.. as i turned to change the channel to my cartoons.. i saw the 2nd plane flying into the towers... i was shocked and amazed as everyone else was.. but i got dressed and went to work.. cause unfortunatly life has to go on... when i got to work.. i was sent back home because they decided to close for the day.. when i got back home it was on 10:30 in the a.m. and i had a full day of nothing to do.. so instead of watching tv and seeing the horrific images over and over agian i went to the beach.. it was a lovely day.. and it was rather relaxing.. i know i am a cold heartless S.O.B. but what else was i going to do... like i said out of sight out of mind.... now these past couple of weeks since the nasty hurricane that took out the big easy.. i have heard the stories.. i have seen the pics and video footage.. and i feel bad for the people that live down there.. but being the devil's advocate that i am.. i find it hard to feel sympathetic.. i have donated money, and done what i can to help.. but i am a broke artist in LA... but in a sense i find this tragedy a very predictable.. it was bound to happen when you build a major metropolis city like N.O. on a swamp that is close to 15 feet below sea level.. and eveyone here is talking about how there belongins, houses and credit is now shot to shit.. but if you lived in N.O. or the surrounding area.. and you did not have flood insurance that is just assinine.. that is like living in S. Cali and not having earthquake ins. or in the mid west without tornado ins. or in the mountians of Co. without avalance or blizzard ins. and J, i know you are reading this.. thinking there is so much more that is lost.. and i understand that.. historical documents, precious artwork, and classic arcitecture is now lost and will never be recoverd in 100% detail.. that is the one thing that i truly feel sympathetic and empathetic for.. but as for everything else.. i have a hard time not careing..this might be a shocker that i have not written in a while.. and when i do it is a morbid rant like this.. but i started this to write what was on my mind.. and please remember.. i may not agree with what you say.. but i will fight to the death for your right to say it!!!!

2005-09-05T08:10:00.000-07:00

Gas (8/30 by Don Wright, Tribune Media Services)

2005-09-05T08:09:00.000-07:00

The Boy in the Bubble (by David Horsey, Seattle Post-Intelligencer)

2005-09-05T08:00:00.000-07:00

HELP!!!!

2005-08-27T15:09:00.000-07:00

This is the moment in time when I wish more people read my blog. I have a problem and am stuck. For those of you who don't know I am a probation officer. Contrary to popular belief my goal is to help people not throw them in jail and I am really good at my job. I have run up against someone that has me stuck and want some advice. Any help would be great!

The background. I have had a client come into my lap who is unlike any I have ever met. He is in my office for a drunken driving charge. When I started peeling away the layers I found out that there is so much more to this guy than I imagined.

The first time he walked into my office he was in Dockers a golf shirt. The ego was so big I almost couldn't figure out how he fit it through the door. Then the shit hit the fan. He told me that he would do anything I wanted he just wanted to finish this and it was bullshit. I demanded anabuse (a drug you take that makes you really sick if you drink) and he had a fit. Who the hell did I think I was and this isn't going to happen can I talk to your supervisor? No worries on that one. After about 2 minutes of his bitching about how mean I am he realized that no nonsense is how I work and agreed. Then the shit hit the fan.

The 1st and 2nd UA's he did hot for cocaine. So back into my office he comes thinking he is some hot shit. I confront him about the ua's and he says revoke my probation I will get a lawyer serve time on an ankle monitor and be done with this shit. Red flags start flying around his head and I realize that this guy needs more. I change my approach.

Two days I get a call from his counselor that she believes he is thinking of killing himself and needs help fast. I can't get him on a 72 hour psych hold with just a counselor’s gut feeling so I pull him in the office. The cocky guy is gone. He is wearing track pants, flip flops, a tee shirt and a baseball cap, he hasn't shaved in probably 3 days and I am pretty sure he hasn't showered in at least 2. Now I know something is wrong.

For whatever reason I can get this guy to do something the professional trained counselor can't which is get him to talk about it. I put him on curfew and he has to call and report to me. Do I believe he is being honest yes! Why because he is telling me about things that I could send him to prison for. He is starting to react in a positive manor and the cocky is coming back. I know I am helping him but he is getting really attached and that is the problem and why I need the help.

THE PROBLEM

The guy is rich. Filthy Rich. He has never worked a day in his life. He has a guy named Luis that does anything he asks him to. He has never cooked, done laundry, dusted, cleaned a bathroom, or had to worry about balancing a checkbook. Sounds like a great life. The flip side is his parents throw money at him when anything is wrong and have never been there. He got arrested and his parents hired him a lawyer. He kicked the shit out of the benz because he had a bad day. No one did anything. No one asked him what was wrong they just paid to fix it and bought him a motorcycle and a new car.

He wants structure and I have provided that. He wants someone to be honest and provide him with grounding point. I have done that. Through all this I have maintained boundaries. He got on some mild anti depressants (yeah better living through chemistry) and he is doing well. I am at a crossroads and don't know what to do. This guy needs to feel like he is accomplishing something. He needs to find out where he belongs and all of us have the struggles that define us as who and what we are and this is his. Unlike all the people I know he didn't have to get up and keep going just to survive. He has learned that if you throw money at it then it goes away. How do I show someone that it doesn't take money to fix it without getting to involved? How can I be the only one in this guy’s life who doesn't give up on him without him crossing that imaginary line?

HELP PLEASE!!!!!!!

In Defense of Pat Robertson

2005-08-26T21:27:00.000-07:00

Okay...sounds downright stupid, but the ol' 700 Club geezer may have saved Hugo Chavez's life...slightly ironic piece I found at the Nation website about looking at the bright side of the politico-preacher's recent madness....

In Defense of Pat Robertson:
Richard Kim, The Nation

Ladies and gentlemen, though it pains me to do so, I rise in defense of Pat Robertson. Pat's been taking a lot of heat lately for saying on The 700 Club that the US government should assassinate Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez. 'I don't know about this doctrine of assassination, but if he thinks we're trying to assassinate him, I think that we really ought to go ahead and do it. It's a whole lot cheaper than starting a war,' Robertson mused on an August 22 broadcast. And then, with unanimous contempt, the establishment press whipped out their razor blades....READ MORE HERE

I still think Robertson's one of those preachers who will surely end up in hell and deserves to be sodomized repeatedly by rabid gorillas for being such a vile man, but just in case, I'll cut him some slack and choose to look at the bright side. I try to turn the other cheek, but, well, the guy's still a major tool...don't think the ol' CIA will be assassinating anybody anytime soon...

Super Heroes

2005-08-26T17:15:00.000-07:00

I am planning on putting something together about someone really special to my heart. I NEED help with some Super Hero trivia!!!

1- What are your favorite super heroes and what stands out most to you about them?

2- What are their super powers and weaknesses?

3- Finally, what is their signature? (or byline? Such as he is faster than a speeding bullet...)

Thanks for the Help!

Top 10 Hot Spots for Auto Theft...

2005-08-26T17:04:00.000-07:00

Check out this article on Top Ten Hot spots for Auto Theft!

Read article!

Chewie was on the news in LA

2005-08-23T23:28:00.000-07:00

The bartending school that i work at was on the news today.. it was on Lisa Joyners "It List" some of the best places in LA to go.. and i am on it quite a bit.. i figured some of you would like to see it so here is the link..

http://cbs2.com/lisasitlist/local_story_115215556.html

and click the video of the bartending school

The McDiet Controversy

2005-08-23T12:55:00.000-07:00

A lady is claiming to have lost 37 pounds eating only at McDonalds. She feels that "Supersize Me" unfairly targeted this chain of "restaurants"... check out the article yourself!

Super Size Me!!!

2005-08-18T21:23:00.000-07:00

Did you get a chance to watch this documentary? It is fascinating. This guy decides to do a 30 day McDonald's ONLY diet having a few doctors and a nutritionalist track his health...as an experiment to see what direct health impact Fast Food only would have on someone!

If you haven't seen it and like fast food, you might want to watch it!!! Click here to see the trailer!

Gas prices here keep rising and rising, but it costs $.05 a gallon in Iraq...

2005-08-17T13:43:00.000-07:00

Check out this article on the gas prices in IRAQ ... $.05 a gallon... wouldn't that be nice?

Twiggy the Waterskiing Squirrel

2005-08-14T08:25:00.000-07:00

See CNN coverage of Twiggy the water skiing squirrel!
http://www.scarysquirrel.org/special/twiggy//twiggy1.wmv

Spinach Nuggets and YogurtDevolving into an Adult

2005-08-13T21:51:00.000-07:00

Freezer's full of healthy stuff, bland meat synonyms shaped like
the real thing, graying fake chicken patties loaded with this shit called
soy isoflavones and no trans fats and half the calories of junk food

Where did the malt liquor go?
Did I lose the taste for it? Did I grow out of my little vato wannabe gangster
Punk-ass bitch lifestyle, past heartache and pain and Quick and the Dead lovers?

I once kissed a gal in East Las Vegas, New Mexico, while her grandmother slept
In the next room and I once hid in shame when I tripped out on acid and
the sky turned beige and purple and the devil was coming to get me.

I once pissed blood for a week after getting drilled in the kidneys at fifteen,
Licked my wounds clean in the back of a busted Chevy Celebrity, once threw up
beer brats and tequila and passed out in with my balls hanging out.

And now I have a freezer full of spinach nuggets and meatless lasagna and lean turkey,
yogurt in 20 different varieties, fair-trade coffee and sugar-free iced tea,
I've even picked up a tan this summer.

Devolving into the primordial abyss of adulthood has killed my caveman, cracked my libido,
Turned my macho bullshit into granola-filled bouquets and stone-cold organic soymilk.

And, the strange thing is,
I feel happy about it.

Fucking shit.
That's a bitch and a half, ain't it, folks?

Jason W. Jackson

Singsong Dipshit in Prada

2005-08-13T21:37:00.000-07:00

Prada -
What the flying monkeyfuck is Prada?

I've heard of Pravda.
That's a Russian newspaper.

And why is this dipshit trying to impress me.
I don't give care where he bought his sunglasses.

What kind of man bumps another man
at a grocery store at four in the afternoon

On a half-dead Saturday and then complains
about his scratched Prada sunglasses?

Did you leave your balls at home,
Or are those windshields you're wearing supposed to impress me?

I think I read about this in Pravda.
That famous Russian newspaper.

Why would I give a flying monkeyfuck about Prada?
Prada?

Jason W. Jackson

Bombscare Sonnets and Typhoid Chicken Salad

2005-08-13T21:31:00.000-07:00

I just opened up 200 million years' worth of junk mail...
Stuffed neatly down the sides of my couch

By the aliens and Elvis and Jesus H Christ himself.
I opened up envelope upon envelope,

Credit card applications and coupon book, bible literature
and End Times gobbledygook and penis enlargement flyers,

Now I feel better, couch feels softer, the 200 million years' worth
of complete and utter dead tree bullshit has been reduced to landfill

Elvis has left the goddamned building Jesus walked across the dishwater
And the aliens have quit jabbing me

in the ass
with
the DVD
remote...

Jason W. Jackson

aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrgggggggggg

2005-07-20T21:12:00.000-07:00

SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.
SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.
SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.
SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.
SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.
SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.
SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.
SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.
SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.
SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.
SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.
SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.
SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.
SHITDAMNFUCKERDAMNFUCKERDAMNDAMN.

EVER JUST HAVE ONE OF THOSE DAYS?

A Future with Less Making Love in Favor of Meaningless Empty Sex...

2005-07-09T10:57:00.000-07:00

The first time I heard Luther Vandross and that smooth voice was in 7th Grade, riding the No. 33 bus home after school, circa May 1991.

The bus rides were harsh. Prince Edward County's school bus fleet was without air conditioning, so one just got used to being soaked in sweat and the eternal stench of unwashed bodies. In the humidity and heat of Virginia's Septembers and Octobers, Mays and Junes, one just accepted that as part of life.

One busride home, I sat next to this girl, Tameka. Tameka was a 6th grader, a skinny, light-skinned girl with a beauty-shop perm and a very pretty smile. Being a 12-year-old, I knew only enough about sex to talk a good game with my friends, to understand the tingling in my groin when I flipped through a copy of Penthouse, and to write obscene graffitti on bathroom stalls.

Normally, I would've sat in theback of the bus, with the troublemakers - the white kids who listened to NWA but were destined to one day wear confederate flags, the black kids destined to be too cool to finish school in favor of a life as somebody's "baby daddy," to drink Colt 45 for breakfast and to keep a Glock 9mm on the bedstand next to their stash of narcotics.

But all the seats were taken. So I sat next to Tameka. I had this weird fluttering in my chest; I felt like my guts were twisting into hard knots. I didn't know this girl, had only seen her in the halls. And, from the Southern, post-Jim Crow culture that was influencing my upbringing, I was confused at having these weird feelings for a -Gasp! - African-American female. Most of my school-boy crushes, up until that time, had been on white girls. I'd never thought about the inherent stupidity in the white guys-are-attracted-to-white-girls model that was somewhere buried in the subconsciousness of that Southern culture.

Tameka and I just sat there for a while as the bus left the school. I think she had similar thoughts rushing through her head. Or maybe she noticed that I kept stealing glances whenever she turned her head to look out the window.

I had a cheap Walkman that I carried with me everywhere. I was just beginning to understand the art of rebellion; I always had some kind of music on a mix-tape that would upset my parents. I think that day I had a mix-tape from a friend of mine's uber-hip older brother - Public Enemy and Anthrax's Bring Da Noize, Ice-T's Original Gangsta, some tracks by Babes in Toyland and Massive Attack. Some glam-rock like Warrant and Poison. And of course, some music from everybody's favorite hip-hop loverboy, LL Cool J.I put on my orange and black headphones, closed my eyes, and pushed the play button.

No sooner than I'd gotten through the first song, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned my head and opened my eyes. There was a smiling, cute girl.

Tameka asked me what I was listening to. Without waiting for an answer, she reached into her backpack and pulled out her own mix-tape.

"Yo, can we listen to this?" she asked. The "we" part got my attention; I took off one of the earpieces and gave it to her and put in her tape.

There, on the No. 33 bus, Tameka and I sat cheek to cheek, grooving to the sounds of Percy Sledge, Marvin Gaye, Kool and the Gang, Keith Sweat, Johnny Gill, Bobby Brown, Sam Cooke, and, of course, Luther Vandross. The song I remember from that afternoon was "If Only for One Night," probably one of the most achingly beautiful R&B songs ever recorded. Even to this day, with the amount of hardcore punk and hip-hop my ears consume, the amount of indie-rock artists I've followed, this song remains one of my favorites.

I can't remember ever talking to Tameka Jackson (no relation) ever again; as we moved into high school, she went her route and I went mine. I think she ended up having a kid or something like that. I was too drunk and stoned to have really noticed. But for that moment, maybe a 45 minute moment, I felt I was in the middle of something greater than myself, the sheer electricity of sensuality, the tantric seduction of soulful music. The entire world disappeared; the troublemakers disappeared into their own chaos, the disapproving looks from both white and black students, and the frequent shouts to "shut the hell up!" from the busdriver.

When I saw Luther Vandross had died at age 54, Tameka was the first person I thought about.

I also thought about the "Macks" in my hometown from that time period - these older black guys who simply bled pure sensuality, cruising around town in big Delta 88s, always dressed impeccably, the scent of a woman's perfume always around them. These guys could make sistas melt simply by looking at them, in Roses Department Store, in Pinos Pizza, in Fever's Dance Club. They never talked about women as "bitches" or "hos;" they would talk about "ladies" and "brown sugars" and "sweet things."

While sex is the blunt object of today's society, the "Macks" understood that soul made sexuality meaningful and special, an art as delicate and sincere as John Keats and Langston Hughes.

If Tameka and I had been older and had been caught inside the sphere of meaningless, empty sex that engulfs all teenagers and adults eventually, we wouldn't have been able to sway innocently, to bring our bodies closer together in moving to the sound of human voices over music. But by being kids and simply listening to music, we were able to share something more precious and wonderous than a million one-night-stands with no sex involved.

It took me forever to realize that sensuality and the electricity of those kinds of moments is much more important that the sheer physical machanics of sex. Any person can hook up with another person, rub their bodies together, have an orgasm, and go their seperate ways. Me? I'd rather feel that electricity, live in the sphere of passion that envolves a sensuality so powerful that time stops and the universe sings like Vandross, D'Angelo, Marvin Gaye, Percy Sledge, and Donna Summer.

Rest in Peace, Luther. You will be missed.

For selected news coverage, click below:

Luther Vandross Obit from the New York Blade Online

Numerology

2005-07-08T13:46:00.000-07:00

by Jason W. Jackson

Count off my cycles of life
Count count count my days
Count my vowels

Steal my soul like a camera

Tick off days
Tick off women
Count my days
like a calendar in hell

Count count my days
Count my vowels
Steal my soul like a camera.

(c) 2003 JWJ

Spit and Crowbars

2005-06-26T07:04:00.000-07:00

by Jason W. Jackson

I never punched somebody that didn't have it coming.
I never kicked a man when he was down
unless he tried to get up.

Living life as the motherfucking Wild Bunch, the white trash William Holden,
Hands taking the place of pistols,
Fists firing automatic rounds,
Defensively.
Offensively.
Occassionally for money.

My hands now hurt, arthritis setting in,
still in my 20s, still alive,
According to the last x-rays,
I've got a hundred mended bones in my right hand,
a dozen or so in my left.

And now I'm a pacifist,
Eternally reminded on cold days that I
once lived my life
like the motherfucking Wild Bunch, a white trash peckerwood
William Holden, making last stands for forgotten
shadows of ideas, for the lost souls of friends.

JWJ

The storm

2005-06-21T20:35:00.000-07:00

Mid afternoon
That time of day when the sky turns dark
the lightning flashes across the sky
the thunder booms
the smell of rain drifts in and the air gets heavy.
The sound outside the window soothing, peaceful.
Lightning flashes and the sky grows cold.
The pause before the thunder breaks and rattles the house.
Wind kicking and screaming through the trees.
Goosebumps
Memories
The thunder booms, laughter
The lightning crashes, tears
the smell stinking of sweat and
Wind screaming, you screaming
Pain
Fear
The thunder rumbles as the storm passes
The clouds break
Rainbows

For My Father

2005-06-16T20:35:00.000-07:00

DAD,

Since I was little I stood and looked up at you with admiration. I had no idea all that you had gone through to become the man that you were. You bit back laughter when you let go of the bike and I ran into the nearest parked car. You never let me quit and bloody knee made me ride home. You taught me to dance with my feet on yours patient when I wanted to twirl. You taught me to drive swearing at the trash cans and settling for the cars with enough faith in me that I wouldn't hit them. You had a tear in your eye when I graduated from high school and a flood of emotion when your baby graduated from college. You knocked on all the walls and wiggled all the fixtures in my first home and still clean the windshield of my car when I come home.

After all of that how could I ask for more but you gave it to me. YOU showed me what a real man was. Someone who could laugh, cry, twirl, get angry, and squish the moth. YOU showed me that you can get angry and not hit. YOU showed me that you could do dishes and cook and not be a sissy. YOU showed me that you could love your family and friends unconditionally. YOU showed me that you could be a partner and a friend in a relationship and that a good relationship was one where you needed each other.

So on Father's Day and every other I hope you know how much I love you and how much you mean to me. I hope you know that I look up to you and always will. I hope you know how lucky I feel to have a father who loves me and is one of the best role models I could have ever hoped for. IF I can find a man half as wonderful as you are I will be a very lucky woman.

Love you always,

Your Little Girl

Closet Creeping by the Bookshelf

2005-06-15T18:57:00.000-07:00

Closet Creeping by the Bookshelf, originally uploaded by jasoba fett.

By Jasobafett, Oxford, Ohio, 2005

Voodoo Gods of Ohio

2005-06-15T18:54:00.000-07:00

Voodoo Gods of Ohio, originally uploaded by jasoba fett.

Sculpture/Digital Photograph

- Sold -

2005-06-15T18:37:00.000-07:00

Fortune fakes miracles like orgasms,
Bad luck's tombstone rots away on the other side
of Fate's favorite landscapes, the grave filled with slit wrist suicides
and children choking on birthday cake and happy winter's
long-forgotten frozen cattle.
Fortune buys and sells Fate, the broker of Life and Death,
the seed sown into souls and bodies by that old bastard Time,
God's own rogue trader.
Bad Luck's been blowing at my back.
Fate's done sold my soul for a mansion in heaven,
Fortune's creditor has called for my debt to be paid.
Love is not within my line of credit.

- Lunch with Gary Gringo -

2005-06-15T18:22:00.000-07:00

This guy, Gary, was the whitest guy I've ever met.

Cranked public radio jazz from his convertible,
Had no rhythm to speak of,
Loved abstract art yet hated hip-hop,
Enjoyed ballet, read Balzac, criticized my smoking,
Drank bottled water constantly, infused with just enough lemon
To make his whole aura radiate citrus.

Gary and I met for lunch in Avila Beach,
It was a Friday afternoon, sun was shining that California shine,
Skater kids were grinding curbs, girls were sunbaked bronze,
Chicano Spanish and Okie English and West Coast jargon
hung a wreath of symphony on the coastal breeze.

Gary pulled up in his sports car with a bleach-blonde,
blue-eyed, Hitler Youth of a girl.

Gary's date opened her mouth, but not a single
coherent thoughtful sound crossed her lips.

Just noise.

Something about breast augmentation.
Then something about all the “dirty Mexicans” moving
up the coast.
Then another screeching rumble about how I'd look
so much more attractive
If I plucked my eyebrows.

Gary nodded.

The skater kids kept grinding pavement, girls baked away into skin cancer,
The Chicano Spanish and Okie English and West Coast jargon
disappeared as we entered the restaurant.

Shit.

I'll be screaming "Kill Whitey"
by the end of
lunch.

- From an old reporter's notebook

Nightmare

2005-06-13T23:44:00.000-07:00

jolted awake by the screaming in your head
the screaming you thought long ago stopped
the chill in your spine and gasping for breath
no one is there to help you
take a deep breath
quiet
frantic now running to all the windows
what is the sound
running to all the doors
is everything secure?
take a deep breath
quiet
lay back on the pillow
close the heavy eyes
block out the million racing thoughts
take a deep breath
quiet
search for the peace of sleep

Time

2005-06-13T20:05:00.000-07:00

When can I do that?
A time when you looked with longing
Longing at those who were older
the wonderful life they had
Then you get there...
not strong and true as you imagined
Weak and afraid.
Hiding under the mask
Behind the wall
You start asking different questions
Is is ever easy?...

A time forgotten

2005-06-13T19:54:00.000-07:00

Jay thanks for the invite

I figured this one would be a blast from the past. Now I have an excuse to write more.

Regret

The random ramblings
A time that would rather be forgotten
A time where there was only one thing on his mind
A time full of regret
Raw physical passion was the only drive
Bloodshot eyes cursed his forbidden face
tears trickled down his flushed cheeks
Talking of an old cowboy
Grandfather
A man so respected so strong
the loss of him
the regret of not living upoto what he wanted
The admiration from afar
The realization of being weak
disappointing the man that meant the most
He desires in his heart the innocence he once had
You can never go back
Whad did he do to deserve this
Why the bars and the women
The countless on night flings with no meaning
All wanting the one thing he was most willing to give
The cheap vulgar sex
The countless nights the endless rooms and backseats
All for one thing-
the seal loathing prophecy of getting his dick wet

THE REBIRTH

2005-06-12T23:23:00.000-07:00

this is such a blast from the past bringing back the Troll Potty Reader.. i wish i had one of our original issues to show you all so you could get an idea of what it was all about..

on here we will be discussing everything and nothing.. the maing backbone of this publication( at least when we started it) was freedom of speach with NO censoring or ideas..

so welcome into the world of the trolls and bring a flashlight :)

chewie

2005-06-11T13:36:00.000-07:00

- Swordfish Stalks Nola -

Jason Jackson

Broken old jazz band of a wino,
banging off quick rhythms on pie plates and
trashcan lids, stomping feet to his own liquored
beat, singing hymns to the tourists and fortunetellers
down in Jackson Square.

There's a half-tuned piano a block away with my name on it,
two pints of cheap drugstore rum
keep my soul cold and my body warm,
That old wino's racket fills my head as I roll down
Decatur, down towards the French Market,
Down to eat an expensive meal with expensive tourists
in ugly, expensive tourist outfits.

Stonewashed cathedrals of life and death
carve holes in the sky by the I-10 offramps,
Canal Street bustles with hustlers, ebony transsexual
tourist traps and street vendors pawning designer knockoff jewelry.

Two pints of dark dark rum
and a belly full of etouffee -

Right now, there's a million tiny whiskers drowning
themselves as flushing toilets harmonize with the
the Jazz Band Wino over at Tulane

Sundresses hang loose from the shoulders
of Iowa college girls down for the Jazz Festival

Sunglasses hide blatant metrosexual daintiness from the
faces of a dozen yankee frat boys hunting girls from Iowa.

Broken, broken, broken old jazz band of a wino -
I should've bought that man a drink.

The First Post is the Hardest Popping the Cherry on the Little Guy

2005-06-11T13:11:00.000-07:00

As with any great endeavor, the Troll Potty Reader has a back story. Back about Fall 1996, Eric and I, along with several other residents of Snyder Hall at the University of Northern Colorado, got so bored we decided to create a special publication dedicated to complete mayhem, delirium, and pissing the university administration off with our silver, forked tongues.

The publication, which I believe lasted three issues, was printed on regular ole' 8.5 X 11 paper and was distributed and posted in about a thousand bathrooms around campus.

We feel we owe something to that time in our lives. The world needs more Troll Potty Readers. Thus, it has returned like a monster from the B-Movie Deep. Submit your writings. We want to see what you can do.

Thanks,
Jason,MLIS
One of your Hosts