Prop 8: The Musical <3

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrM2UPoWFtE

 

Can I just say bravo? Hurray for people who are EDUCATED on the subject rather those who have their heads up the asses of CHURCHES AND “GOD!” Ugh.

Women NOT Equal

Does this posting anger anyone else? Is the business economy going to suffer SO badly from women getting equal pay to men that women should be degraded to lesser pay and therefore be less than men?

http://www.feministing.com/archives/011070.html

Vote Obama!

Wilde Women

“The Lord giveth and most women piss it away. Perhaps this is why they lack the equipment to aim. Some women piddle their life away in a slow incontinent dribble while squatting in the shadow of a man. Others are so busy trying to overshadow men they miss the mark. Most manage to cover up their little messes like a cat scratching in a litter box, but a few always get caught with their pants down. For this reason, Lorna Wilde bestowed upon her daughters the wisdom her mother bestowed upon her, “Never wear holey underwear.” Being enterprising young women, the Wilde sisters never wore underwear at all.”

 

-Wilde Women by Paula Wall (or P.S. Wall)

The Saint Vincent de Paul Food Pantry Stomp

“Waiting for the carton of food
given with Christian suspicion
even to agency-certified charity cases
like me,
thin and brittle
as uncooked linguini,
anticipating the factory-damaged cans
of tomato soup, beets, three-bean salad
in a welfare cornucopia,
I spotted a squashed dollar bill
on the floor, and with
a Saint Vincent de Paul food pantry stomp
pinned it under my sneaker,
tied my laces meticulously,
and stuffed the bill in my sock
like a smuggler of diamonds,
all beneath the plaster statue wingspan
of Saint Vinnie,
who was unaware
of the dance
named in his honor
by a maraca shaker
in the salsa band
of the unemployed.”

-Martin Espada.

Jack Johnson.

It’s as simple as something that nobody knows
that her eyes are as big as her bubbly toes
on the feet of a queen of the hearts of the cards
and her feet are all covered with tar balls and scars.
It’s as common as something that nobody knows
that her beauty will follow wherever she goes
up the hill in the back of her house in the wood.
She love me forever, I know she could.

I remember when you and me
mmm how we used to be just good friends
Wouldn’t give me none
But all I wanted was some.
 
She’s got a whole lot of reasons
She cant think of a single one
That can justify leaving.
And he got none but he thinks
he got so many problems
Man he got, too much time to waste.

His dreams are like commercials
But her dreams are picture perfect and
Our dreams are so related though
they’re often underestimated.

It’s as simple as something that nobody knows that
Her eyes are as big as her bubbly toes
On the feet of the queen of the hearts of the cards
And her feet are infested with tar balls and
La da da da da da

Well I was eating lunch at the D. L. G.
When this little girl came and she sat next to me.
I never seen nobody move the way she did
Well she did and she does and she’ll do it again

When you move like a jellyfish
Rhythm don’t mean nothing
You go with the flow
You don’t stop.
Move like a jellyfish.
Rhythm is nothing
You go with the flow
You don’t stop.

It’s as common as something that nobody knows it
Her beauty will follow wherever she goes
Up the hill in the back of her house in the wood
She’ll love me forever, I know she

La da da da da da

If you would only listen
You might just realize what you’re missing
You’re missing me
If you would only listen
You might just realize what you’re missing
You’re missing me

It’s as simple as something that nobody knows that
Her eyes are as big as her bubbly toes
On the feet of the queen of the hearts of the cards
And her feet are infested with tar balls and

La da da da da da

Leaf blowers.

Have you ever wondered why the entire world runs so smoothly? The answer is: Guys.

Don’t get me wrong: I have the deepest respect for women. My own wife is a woman. But when things need to get done, you cannot beat the results you get when guys swing into action.

For an excellent example, we turn now to a news story from the Greenville (S.C.) News, written by John Boyanoski and sent in by alert reader Michael Ester. The story concerns a guy — let’s call him Guy A — who had a problem: There were leaves in his yard. So he fired up his leaf blower.

Leaf blowers are the ideal guy tool, because they have engines, they’re loud, and they enable you to blast debris, ray-gun-style, from one place to another without having to actually pick it up. I’m willing to bet that somewhere in America, there’s a guy who, at least once, cleaned his living room by firing up his leaf blower indoors and blasting everything — pizza boxes, beer cans, ancient potato- chip shards, underwear, deceased spiders — into a less-critical area, such as the dining room. (This guy is not married.)

But getting back to our story, which I am not making up: Guy A, taking action, used his leaf blower to blow the leaves off of his property. Problem solved!

Except that the leaves wound up in the yard of another guy. Let’s call him Guy B. He now had leaves in HIS yard. What do you think he should have done about this? Should he have asked Guy A, politely but firmly, to remove the leaves? Should he have avoided a potential confrontation by picking them up himself? Or should he have decided that life is too short to be bothered by this kind of petty annoyance, and simply ignored the leaves?

If you answered “yes” to any of these solutions, you are, with all due respect, a woman. What Guy B did, according to the Greenville County sheriff’s department report, was the same thing that roughly 175 percent of the guys reading this column would have done: He fired up HIS leaf blower, and he blew the leaves back onto the yard of Guy A.

So now the leaves were back where they started. This was a crucial moment — a moment when some people, realizing that nothing good was going to come of this situation, would have said the heck with it. But these were not “some people.” These were guys, and when guys start a job, guys want to finish it, no matter what. That is how we got the pyramids, the interstate highway system, and World Wars I and II.

So Guy A blew the leaves back onto Guy B’s yard. This left Guy B with no choice but to blow the leaves back onto Guy A’s yard, leaving Guy A with no choice but to blow the leaves back into Guy B’s yard, and so on. They played leaf-blower tennis for a while, until apparently it dawned on them how silly this was. And so, according to the sheriff’s report, as recounted in the Greenville News, “they started blowing air in each other’s face.”

From there, things went downhill. According to the sheriff’s department report, Guy B claimed that Guy A head-butted him. Guy A claimed that Guy B hit his leaf blower with a hammer AND knocked his dust mask off, scratching his nose. (Yes: Guy A wore a dust mask. It’s important to follow leaf-blower safety guidelines.)

Finally a sheriff’s deputy was called to the scene of the dispute; after listening to the two sides, he shot both guys in the head, to improve the gene pool.

No, really, the deputy couldn’t determine who was at fault, so he decided not to charge either guy. I don’t know what the situation is now, but it would not surprise me to find out that both guys — having learned a valuable lesson about how a stupid little dispute can escalate into a potentially dangerous situation — have purchased bigger leaf blowers.

Speaking of which: A LOT of leaves get blown onto the United States from Canada. When are we going to fight back? When will the Defense Department launch a project to develop a tactical nuclear leaf blower, code-named Screaming Wind?

Until that happens, I urge you guys in northern states to grab your leaf blowers, organize into units and patrol the Canadian border, intercepting incoming leaves and blasting them back where they belong. You should wear camouflage. Also, of course, dust masks. No point in taking chances.

 

-”Ready; aim; BLAST leaves” by Dave Barry.

Chef.

WARNING: ingredients not meant to be subject to such conditions.

You know how to cook. I’m jealous.
You can do wondrous things to your ingredients.
I am insanely jealous. I tried to cook once.
I tried to mix unmixable things into cupcake batter
Love, tears, hate, and starvation. Want to know what I learned?

Cooking is an art. Much like photography is an art.

Ok, I’ll be serious, I promise. S’il vous plait, un moment monsieur.
Let me just put on my lens-less, thin-framed silver spectacles
And let me tie my hair back while pretending to look ingenious
I’ll teach you a thing or three about my erroneous experiences

Ethanol is probably going to kill us both.

You see,
The solubility of hatred is irreversible, and the concentration of love
Root mean squared, when coming into contact with starvation,
Spontaneously combusts, with saturated tears giving the whole mess
A rather salty and bitter, unpleasant taste

…Do I ever know what the fuck I’m saying?

But you, you! You could’ve told me all that.
You knew that the only way to mix all of my love and tears
(With just a dash of hate and a hint of starvation)
Is to concentrate it all, much like orange juice.
Stick that shit in a blender and let the gears grind away on maximum blend
(Or whatever highest setting your Sharper Image blender comes with)

Recommended: serve with garnish, a martini on the side.

Once you’ve got a thick, flaky sea green concoction,
You broil it. You take a flame thrower and put my emotions
Though high pressure, high heat. Intense pressure, intense heat.
(I read somewhere that the carbon in peanut butter turns into diamonds)
I look skeptical, but you smirk. Poofy chef hat in hand, you bow.

Bon appetit mademoiselle!

-Titled “Chef,” by Eileen Huang.

http://tourniquetshadow.deviantart.com/

I like giants.

“When I go for a drive I like to pull off to the side
Of the road, turn out the lights, get out and look up at the sky.
And I do this to remind me that I’m really, really tiny
In the grand scheme of things and sometimes this terrifies me.

But it’s only really scary cause it makes me feel serene
In a way I never thought I’d be because I’ve never been
So grounded, and so humbled, and so one with everything.
I am grounded, I am humbled, I am one with everything.

Rock and roll is fun but if you ever hear someone
Say you are huge, look at the moon, look at the stars, look at the sun.
Look at the ocean and the desert and the mountains and the sky.
Say I am just a speck of dust inside a giant’s eye
I am just a speck of dust inside a giant’s eye.

When I saw Genevia I really liked it when she said.
What she said about the giant and the lemmings on the cliff.
She said ‘I like giants.
Especially girl giants.
Cause all girls feel too big sometimes
Regardless of their size.”

When I go for a drive I like to pull off to the side
Of the road and run and jump into the ocean in my clothes.
And I’m smaller than a poppyseed inside a great big bowl.
And the ocean is a giant that can swallow me whole

So I swim for all salvation and I swim to save my soul.
But my soul is just a whisper trapped inside a tornado.
So I flip to my back and I float and I sing.
I am grounded, I am humbled, I am one with everything.
I am grounded, I am humbled, I am one with everything.

So I talked to Genevia and almost cried when she said
That the giant on the cliff wished that she was dead.
And the lemmings on the cliff wished that they were dead.
So the giant told the lemmings why they ought to live instead.

When she thought up all those reasons that they ought to live instead
It made her reconsider all the sad thoughts in her head.
So thank you Genevia, cause you take what is in your head
And you make things that are so beautiful and share them with your friends.

We all become important when we realize our goal
Should be to figure out our role within the context of the whole.
And yeah, rock and roll is fun, but if you ever hear someone
Say you are huge, look at the moon, look at the stars, look at the sun.
Look at the ocean and the desert and the mountains and the sky.

Say I am just a speck of dust inside a giant’s eye.
I am just a speck of dust inside a giant’s eye.
I am just a speck of dust inside a giant’s eye.
And I don’t wanna make her cry
Cause I like giants.”

-”I Like Giants” by Kimya Dawson.

Rice Krispy Logs

My aunt would make these for family occasions, but mostly for the large Whiting family reunions. I don’t see her much; she always forgets to send me the recipe, so I looked it up online. They’re terrible for your health but quite delicious if you like chocolate and peanut butter together.

 

 

Ingredients:
1 Box Rice Krispies **(13-15 oz – I use a store brand)
1 – 12 oz pkg chocolate chips (2 cups)
1 – 10 or 12 oz pkg peanut butter chips (2 cups)
3 – 10 oz pkgs mini marshmallows or 2 – 16 oz pkgs
2 sticks of butter
1 cup creamy peanut butter

Pour rice krispies in a large bowl (spray with Pam, to prevent sticking)

In a large microwavable bowl combine (again spray the bowl):
All the marshmallows – except 4 cups
1 stick of butter
peanut butter
Melt these ingredients in microwave. Stir together. Pour over Rice Krispies and mix well. Divide and pat on 2 sprayed cookie sheets.

In a medium microwavable bowl combine (yes spray the bowl):
4 cups marshmallows
1 stick butter
chocolate and peanut butter chips
Microwave these ingredients until melted, stir and spread over rice krispies.

Roll up. Wrap in saran wrap. Once in the saran wrap, you can make the roll longer and skinnier if you want. Freeze or refrigerate until set. Slice and enjoy. (I’ve never frozen the rolls, but they do keep quite awhile in the refrigerator).

The “F” Word

“I truly believe that feminism makes your life better. Imagine being able to get past all the nonsense that tells you you’re not good enough. To all of a sudden understand why you’ve ever felt not smart enough or not pretty enough. To finally be able to put your finger on that feeling you’ve always had that something is off. Believe me, to get to this place is amazing.”

-From Full Frontal Feminism by Jessica Valenti.