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I don't give two shits if you're gay. I don't actually even give one shit, for that matter: being attracted to someone of the same sex is no different than being attracted to big boobs or proclaiming "no fat chicks". You're attracted to who/what you're attracted to.

But the government has no right to tell you or me or anyone else we're not allowed to be married to the adult we love that loves us back. For any reason. At all. Ever. It took a long time, but they finally got one right.

That's right...

I made this :) It's what happens when you find the right hair, use random bricks your parents brought you from your childhood and have a little obsessiveness with the right band...

Thank you, President Obama,

Since "Obama-care" was passed I (and all of my  coworkers) have been seeing all of the shit with none of the perks.
We get emails all the time about how we're going to be penalized for smoking (but not for being fat or drinking cause, you know, that seems fair) and we're going to be paying almost double to keep the same coverage we have had for the last 2, 3 even 5 years and then some.
It really pisses me off. I don't see how it's fair to say "Hey! Remember how you've been working your ass off and paying your dues for good insurance? Well, we're gonna make you pay a lot more (or drop your coverage significantly) so the rest of America can receive health care that you see no tangible evidence of. Cheers!". Seriously, that's what it feels like. And most everyone I work with feels the same way. In the words of every unhappy child: It's. Not. Fair.

So I pulled one of my friends aside who's not as "well off" as I am. He wasn't able to get insurance through his place of work and yet he's listened to me bitch and moan for a month or two about my own sense of injustice. I finally said to him that it didn't matter, I wouldn't care if my rates were going up if it meant that he had coverage, so I told him to start keeping track of all his new "coverage" so I didn't go insane. I just wanted to know that he could get medicine as cheaply as I can, or go to the doctor for $15 and so on and so on.

And he told me he had health insurance now...

One thing I must have missed is that, thanks to this bill, insurance companies can't deny you for preexisting conditions anymore. So, he has insurance. If only for that one reason, I'm ok with this bill now. So, thank you, President Obama. I might not agree with you on much and I might hate what this bill is doing to me as an individual, but I'm fortunate enough that I can afford to help pick up the slack. And knowing that he can go to the doctor whenever he needs to is enough to satisfy me. Thank you.

Mr Biden was right; this is a big fucking deal.
Dear friends,
It is with the saddest heart that I pass on the following. Please join
me in remembering a great icon.

The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and
complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.

Doughboy was buried in a lightly-greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities
turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry
Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and
Cap'n Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours as long- time
friend, Aunt Jemima, delivered the eulogy, describing Doughboy as a man
who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in show
business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not
considered a very "smart" cookie, wasting much of his dough on
half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times, he -- even
still, as a crusty old man -- was considered a roll model for millions.
Toward the end, it was thought he would rise again, but alas, he was no

Doughboy is survived by his wife, Play Dough; two children, John Dough
and Jane Dough; plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by
his elderly father, Pop Tart.

The funeral was held at 3:50 for about twenty minutes.
I'm a fan of my bitter "fuck you" songs when needed, but this is a whole new level of fuck you...

I love Queen. They're second only to Alanis on my list of "holyshiteverythingyouveevermadeisamazingevenifihaventhearditallandiwanttolickyou" musicians (and I like to think I can make them both #1; she's my favorite artist, they're my favorite band), but, I'll be honest, I don't have nearly as much of their stuff as I should.
So I know I need to add 10+ of their CDs to my collection, but in the meantime I thought I'd prowl iTunes and grab a few of their songs I was lacking, as well as a random song or two I didn't know, just for the hell of it. And I picked "Death on Two Legs" solely because of the title. Perhaps everyone else has heard it and I'm just years behind, but I had never stumbled upon it. And I didn't even preview the track when I bought it. Holy. Shit.

It starts all beautiful and melancholy on the piano, but around 18 seconds it gets slightly darker. At 38 seconds you get lulled back into a delightful, some-what chipper, piano and guitar sense of security; classic Queen, if you will. Then at 1:05 Mercury proceeds to dick-slap you in the face with malice. When he growls out "Screw my brain till it hurts" I get goosebumps. I'm not sure if I'm turned on or in fear that someone is seriously pissed at me and I should be cowering in shame and fear. Sweet Jesus.

It has (easily) one of the best repeating guitar riffs I've ever heard (sure it's no Money for Nothing, but kudos on the playing, Mr May!... cause, you know, he reads this....) and the lyrics are amazingly bitter. It's not my favorite Queen song (that spot will be forever held by Killer Queen), but it is certainly in the top 5, if not top 3. Out of the 150+ songs they have out there I am certainly happy I stumbled onto this one.

You suck my blood like a leech
You break the law and you preach
Screw my brain till it hurts
You've taken all my money
And you want more
Misguided old mule with your pig headed rules
With your narrow minded cronies
Who are fools of the first division
Death on two legs
You're tearing me apart
Death on two legs
You've never had a heart of your own
Kill joy bad guy big talking small fry
You're just an old barrow boy
Have you found a new toy to replace me?
Can you face me?
But now you can kiss my ass goodbye
Feel good? Are you satisfied?
Do you feel like suicide?
(I think you should)
Is your conscience all right?
Does it plague you at night?
Do you feel good? Feel good?
You talk like a big business tycoon
You're just a hot air balloon
So no one gives you a damn
You're just an overgrown schoolboy
Let me tan your hide
A dog with disease
You're the king of the sleaze
Put your money where your mouth is
Mister know-all
Was the fin on your back
Part of the deal? Shark
Death on two legs
You're tearing me apart
Death on two legs
You've never had a heart (you never did)
Of your own (right from the start)
Insane you should be put inside
You're a sewer rat decaying in a cesspool of pride
Should be made unemployed
Then make yourself null and void
Make me feel good I feel good

The last public post

For more than 5 and 1/2 years I've shared this journal. Some of the entries have been stupid or a silly rant or even a random narrative, others have been meaningful and very profound moments in my life. While I'd bet more than 50% of them have been open to everyone, there is a good chunk of posts no one will see but me and an even larger chunk that only those close to me can see.
But someone told me they weren't very happy about the public posts that referenced them. Although I think I do a pretty good job hiding my friends and family behind a blanket of anonymity, it's not enough for everyone and I need to respect that. This person is way too much a part of my life to stop including in my musings though, so I guess I'll just have to go back and make some entries public-no-more and make the vast majority of further entries for friends only. Exceptions may include rants on second-hand smoke and the like, but if it has to do with anyone in my life it'll be closed to the public.

I'm not going so far as to assume any stranger out there really checks this to see what's going on in my fucked up little slice of the universe, but obviously there's at least one person who checks in on it even without an LJ of their own, so.... If you've been a reader and never "friended" me on here, you'll need to log in (or create an account) and send me a note asking to be added. If you're special enough, I suppose I'll add you.


So, here's something fun

I was sick over the weekend and stayed home a couple days, work's being sucky, blah blah blah who cares. THIS however is post worthy:

In late 2006 I decided to try dating after my then love-of-my-life and I split. So I went out on a couple of first dates. It was a horrible failed attempt before I really got into the swing of things (and met the most recent ex - gosh that's fun to say - in mid 07), but there was one guy that was just starting at my present place of employment who was really cute and a fantastic smartass, so a good combination for me. We went out on 3 dates, I think, but nothing went anywhere. He didn't really take the lead in calling me or taking me out and I am soooo not a pursuer, so we just stopped talking and that was it. I knew he still worked here, but in another department and our paths just never crossed. And this was almost 4 years ago.

Well, coming in from a break today, I held the door open for this guy that I knew looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. Given the set up I just provided, you can guess who it was.
I got back to my desk and about 10 minutes later I get a chat saying "Nice seeing you again :D I've been HBA for the last 2 years." ... I didn't recognize the chat name so I said hi and asked who it was. At which point he said ":D You just held the door for me about 10 minutes ago". And that's when it clicked. Thus we began talking. That was at 1:30 or so. Now, more than 5 hours later, we're still chatting back and forth in between our various tasks (mostly about work).

Thing is, in order for him to have found me again, he'd either 1) have to still have had me on his chat contacts or 2) remembered my full name to find me in the company directory... either way this is information he's had/retained for 4 years lol

If he continues to contact me I have no doubt that it will be a carbon copy of what "we" did before, but still. Wow. It's cool to know I was on his mind in some way/shape/form. Especially since, until today, he hadn't been on mine. This is one of the many reasons holding open a door for someone else is just a good thing to do lol

Poor, poor Delmarva

Today I had a chat with someone at work who told me the Culinary Institute of America lists the following ingredients in their "real" Maryland crab cakes (he asked me about it because, even having been born and raised in effin Texas, he thought it didn't sound right lol):

Beaten eggs (plural)
Sour cream
Melted butter
Cayenne pepper
Worcestershire sauce
Bread crumbs
Corn meal
And (of course)
Crab meat

WTF? Did they even consult someone in Maryland before making that? They have 3 ingredients right, but what the fuck are those other things? And where in god's name are the missing ingredients? There isn't even Old Bay... Cayenne pepper but no Old Bay? Really? lol

I've been saying for years that the Eastern Shore of Maryland should secede from the rest of the state (we have West Virginia, why not East Maryland?) but, according to the Culinary Institute of America, we're not even a state the country talks to anymore. Well done, Marylanders, well done. Stick to your guns. Or your Old Bay and frying pans, at the least.

Holy mother of god

Well, he came home super late Monday and, given he was still slightly doped up on pain meds and anesthesia, it was a relatively easy night and Tuesday was not bad at all. Went for a couple of walks, started grasping coming to me when I signed to him and, thank Jesus, the whole "pee-outside" thing. Only one accident all day :)

Then came Tuesday night lol. He has a whiny yap that would make a Pomeranian proud. And he knows how to use it. We go outside just before I put him in his kennel, then I go to bed myself and the whining begins. If I walk to the hall where he can see me, he settles, but I'm not sleeping in the damn hall lol.
He will whine and pace when he needs to go out, so we haven't had any overnight accidents either, but this has made him realize that if he whines, needing to go out or not, I *have* to check on him. Little asshat. Between Tuesday and last night I think I've had 8 hours total sleep. Look at me not making plans this weekend for all the sleeping I will be doing. But once he's used to the house-rules and gets a slightly larger bladder things should get better. That's when we can work on all the fun training - "stay" is a concept completely lost to him. He clings to me like cellophane to itself and on several occasions if I stop walking before he's noticed he'll just charge full on into the back of my legs lol. He won't go through a door (and that includes into or out of the house) until I go first and if I walk from the kitchen to the living room, which are both completely open to one another, he will stop whatever it is he's doing and just follow along. It's cute, but hopefully a phase - I don't want to have to keep standing by his food bowl so he can eat lol.

Anyway, lots of pics in this directionCollapse )

I've never met him....

But I want him to come live with me

Fingers crossed the rescue center likes my application and think my home would be a good fit :)



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