May 11, 2004
TCWH Pointers: 3943
Just because I care?
Pointer # 3943. If you slice your finger open peeling the foil off a cheap bottle of wine because you can't pour yourself a glass fast enough after attending a high school art show where HORNY! LITTLE! GIRLS! with pussy galore (Thank you, James Bond!) and cleavage abound! stare at your husband and lick their chops, drive your ass over to the Betty Ford, baby, GOD/ALLAH/THE CREATOR/THE DALAI LAMA (insert your supreme being here) is telling you not to drink. I've got a room. (Insert bad singing here.) Just the two of us. Building castles in the sky. Just the two of us, we can make it if we try! Just the two of us...you and I!
Read Comments ｻ
on May 12, 2004 05:38 AM,
Howard said:
Pointer #3943...Hmm...That looks kinda familiar. :)
on May 12, 2004 08:21 AM,
jacinthe said:
No, my supreme being would never tell me not to drink. That's just an impossibility.
ｫ Hide Comments
May 10, 2004
Don't Touch ME
I got a phone call from my friend today. Seems her childcare provider felt it necessary to hit her four year old son in the face with a paddle because he did not close his eyes during nap time. I hope Jessica of Yokota Air Force Base, Japan, gets her license yanked faster than she can say "Domo Arigato." Pending investigation, my ass. There was a welt on his happy little face. The police took pictures of it. Not your child, not your right.
The bizarre thing about this whole event is that one of our other friends saw her hit him in the face in the community center. The kid? He denied it, but he never wanted to go there. Jessica was upset that someone would tell lies about her. They were speaking the truth. What's wrong with you lady? You DO NOT hit other people's kids.
Jessica hits children in the face with paddles.
Do not let her watch your children.
Period.
Read Comments ｻ
on May 11, 2004 02:39 AM,
rachel said:
HOLY F*CKING SHIT!
That poor baby! She'll get her license yanked and most likely her husband (if they're military) will get a stern talking to by his shirt.
Post her picture! =D
on May 11, 2004 11:12 AM,
Marian said:
That's terrible. On a semi-related note, the 3-year-old I watch screamed his little friggin' head off today when I tried to take him home. Screaming at the top of his lungs, and I'm sure everyone in the whole Barnes & NOble heard. I was sure someone was either going to think I was abusing or kidnapping him.
He was not only screaming, but kicking me, pulling my hair, and hitting me.
His five-year-old brother stayed terribly calm, eating his biscotti and holding my coffee. I was so proud of him I wanted to cry.
'Course, wanted to cry for other reasons, as well....
on May 11, 2004 10:40 PM,
Alex. said:
R,
I've put a paddle in my purse. Maybe she thinks she belongs to a fraternity. Speaking of which, reminds me of the time I found my boyfriend naked, drunk, and tied to a pole. They paddled his butt, though. Not his face. You don't hit kids in the face with objects period. I'd say not at all, but Momma slapped me for disrespecting her, and let me tell you. I never did it again.
on May 11, 2004 10:42 PM,
Alex. said:
M,
You have got to love it when kids act like this! I start to ovulate right then and there! ERGH. At least you didn't get hit in the face with a golf club. That actually happened to me. NICE! Best experience of my life *twinkle* EVER!
on May 12, 2004 04:19 AM,
Marian said:
*giggles*
You know, I think it did actually bring on my period early.....
on May 12, 2004 04:51 AM,
Gary said:
I think she should get slapped in the face with a paddle...
Oh, and just so you know, Rachel actually didn't make me post this. =D
ｫ Hide Comments
May 09, 2004
Sunday Night After I Poured My First Glass of Wine at 10:30 am
Listy listy, let's go listy.
1.) It's a bizarre feeling really.
2.) My husband is only home for the blink of an eye. I thought I would be all right until I broke into hysterical sobs today after I woke up, which, if you know me, I hated. ARGH, sometimes I'd rather be a guy and just manifest emotion in complete and utter assholeness. Whoever said God is a woman was wrong. There is no voice for my fear, uncertainty.
3.) I have no work tomorrow. No work tomorrow. No. Work. Tomorrow. NO MOTHERFUCKING WORK TOMORROW! No nose picking, no songs about farting and very farting, no dirty hands, no copped feels. Just me and the glorious hours of the day. Happy, happy, joy, joy. *ahem* Thank you, Ren and Stimpy.
4.) I am 10 days away from finishing my Master's Program. Something I have done since we got over here. I just keep wondering what the hell I'll do with myself. Think I blog too much now? Just you wait! Yippee! Although, Momma's a little territorial with her computer. Wanna stop by? To get me high?
5.) I don't want to be one of those blogs. I started out reading all these blogs, and honestly they just infuriate me and piss me off. I just want to yell, "Say something nice today! Something erudite!" I don't want you to quote some motherfucking Shakespeare. I just want you to revel in something. I don't care if it's a fucking Brazilian bikini wax. Just enjoy your fucking life. For once. Wah, wah, wah, me. Allow. Me. To. Reiterate. Don't want to be that whiny bitch blog. Although I suppose by admitting this, I am a whiny bitch?
6.) I love: stepping off the plane in Saipan and sucking the air into my lungs. It's almost water. Diving off the boat in Palau into the clear blue. Warmth, wholeness of floating upside down and backwards. I felt untouched. Burying my head in the crook of DH's neck. When Pearl Jam sang, "I swear, I recognize your breath..." I was so taken by that lyric, but didn't know why. Every time he exhales over my neck, it smells like home. Without the picket fence and two kids and dog. It smells like skin. Like safe. Stoned afternoons with Jason Cuevas in New Orleans. They were rare, like finding those flat smooth rocks. A past life for me, teacher that I am now, role model, but those 2 afternoons, that couch, those cushions, that shotgun house. The chips. MMMMM. The comfortable silences with my friends. Most recently observed with CT over airport food. Slurping noodles, sipping beer and coke (him AND me). *DING* United...ensconced in our own bubble of quiet and comfort. There aren't many like that out there. Sharing dinner at Red Lobster with Momma. The whitest trash of white trash restaurants in Upstate New York, but we roll in the lobster, the shrimp, the crab. I watch her lick her fingers out of the corner of my eye and stifle a gurgle of happiness in my throat as I jump into my own entree. She catches my eye and gleams. I grin back, mouth full of food. She is my mom. My Dad's e-mails. The steady voice over the miles reminding me that just because I can't see it, doesn't mean it is not there.
7.) I went to dinner on Friday. I tried to take a picture of the menu, but the flash whited out the picture. My entree? Drunken shameless shrimp in brazen sauce. Best damn thing I've ever tasted. Well, pretty damn close, anyway.
8.) Driving to the airport? CT and I saw a car. It was white, kind of family wagonish shapey. We drove up and I read the print. SWEET CAMEL. In big red letters. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I thought. "CT, speed up, speed up! I have to read the fine print!" And as we whizzed by the car, we both caught the slogan in entirety:
SWEET CAMEL
Jeans for the agressive young woman.
The implications of which are just simply too much to explore. If I could find a pair of those jeans here, you know I'd wear the hell ouf of them. Just for shits and giggles. Maybe I could start a trend like Nelly's Applebottoms. Subtlety is overrated.
9.) I received a violet from a student. I am afraid I will kill it. Please don't make me post pictures of our dying Christmas Tree. I am a murderer. Is it worse to kill it slowly at a time, or do I just stop watering all together? I can't bear to do that. I almost talked to it.
10.) I want to laugh so hard that I feel like I'm going to pee in my pants. Or I feel like my face is going to break.
11.) Is it a Monday if you don't have to work?
Read Comments ｻ
on May 10, 2004 03:29 PM,
Simon said:
It's important to vent.
on May 11, 2004 12:42 AM,
Ted said:
Entertaining, don't forget entertaining too!
on May 11, 2004 10:37 PM,
Alex. said:
S,
It is important to vent! I don't want to stereotype myself. Would I still be appealing to the masses if I was sugary sweet and wore Powerpuff girls T-shirts? HMMM....
on May 11, 2004 10:38 PM,
Alex. said:
T.
Hee! Entertaining! I used to make my parents and sing shows to them with a wooden spoon. I was CUT OUT for this!
ｫ Hide Comments
May 08, 2004
TODAY! is! THE! DAY!
Today is the day! Today is the day! Today is AIRPORT DAY!
In light of such happy (oh frabjous day!) events, I have decided to tell each one of you, whether you know who the damn hell I am or not, WHY I LIKE YOU. I got the most amazing pat on the back from a parent the other day in the form of this comment "Thank you, thank you so very much for taking care of the children so wonderfully! You have this calm attitude, that is so amazing! You are a wonderful teacher!" For someone to notice that about me amidst a roomfull of 27 vibrant *ahem* children, I was truly tickled. I'm not all piss and vinegar. Sometimes I'm sugary and sweet. I wanted to pass on the favor, because I was thinking that sometimes I like you all more than people that I interact with daily and in person, and GOSH DARN IT, I like you. (Pointing finger at you. Yes. YOU.)
Read More "TODAY! is! THE! DAY!"ｻ
Mr. B. , I LIKE YOU. You pass yourself off as a lazy college student, but I think you've got the smarts, mister. You inspired me to blog with your crazy-ass pictures and your ridiculous stories. I almost peed in my pants when you linked me, I was so happy!
RP, I always tell students' parents not to live vicariously through their children, but damn girl! I just don't have the energy to keep up with you! I am addicted to your updates. I always want to know what you do next!
A Rose by any other name would NOT smell as sweet. I appreciate your honesty. Your humor. Your candid writing. And, you've got a bucket of fucket. Curse words, mmmm...YUM!
RACHEL! is like the girl at the party who I never want to leave because she's got me laughing so hard I swear that I have lost 10 pounds, all from my hips and butt. She will also stand up for you to anyone. This, after being married to TSS, I deeply APPRECIATE.
A. I like you. You're a teacher. You're sarcastic. You suffer with me at the Master's goal. You like me. What's not to like? I LIKE YOU.
The Pieman . You probably don't know why I call you that, but it's okay. You RECOMMENDED me to a group! You live in Hong Kong! You made sure that I had a home! You write smart! *HEE* Poke. Poke. I like you.
And YOU! You SEND me stuff! Good stuff! Hell, I might even love you! In a completely unstalkerish way, you know?
Ratey-0!! Too bad you're not Mexican, but I LIKE YOU anyway. You ADAMANTLY proclaim your LIKE for my writing. BIG HEAD. BIG HEAD. You make my happy soar.
NBM, I stalk you like celery. I think you're funny. Your sense of humor reminds me of a crisp, clean dollar bill - which happens to be one of my favorite things. I want to send you one of those notes. Will you be my friend? Check yes or no. But I want to cross out the NO, because if you checked no, I think I would deflate. Like a box of peeps if you leave them open for two years.
J Witty. Smart. Beautiful. And utterly graceful while dealing with the wrath of that whiny bitch, Kell. WHO I WILL NOT LINK, BECAUSE She offends me more than J-Kwon. But J, J SHINES. Her writing, her design, HER MOXY. If I were a little girl, I would want to grow up and be her. Which is kind of scary. And psycho. I want to send her the friend note, too.
M. I like you. I don't know you very well, but I like you. I read your blog, and I like you. You add me to your friends list, and I LIKE YOU. Hey. Did I tell you that I like you?
Teejmahal You don't know me either, but I LIKE YOU. You are engaging and funny and brilliant. I wait for your updates anxiously, because I never know what the hell you're going to say, and HEY! I love spontaneity.
MADFISH. I REALLY like you. Your life intrigues me. You made my new house look like a home. Which you really didn't have to do. At all.
PM, you hold the keys to the whole damn thing. Your efforts are tireless. I don't really think I've met somebody who is as good as you are - making people happy. Selflessly.
3leg I REALLY like you. A LOT. I think you are funny, and honest, and compassionate. I find these qualities very appealing in a male. Also, you shot up your ex father in law's boat. I just want to stand next to you. I like you.
TT I LIKE YOU! You live in Japan! With me! You are witty! Smart! Funny! And you document everything! WITH PICTURES! I LIKE! I LIKE! I BUY! I BUY!
She-Dork I LIKE YOU. I think you're brilliant. Vibrant. Resilient. Funnyent.
Surfcat, you don't have a webpage, BUT I LIKE YOU! You ALWAYS leave me comments, which as you know, make me INSANELY happy. And you are always complimentary. Which, as you know, is the key to my female heart! BLOG, dammnit! You're like Zorro.
Damn, where does the time go when I'm kissing everybody's butt? I've got to leave in 2 hours, and the house is a shitass mess. Rachel told me to do laundry, but of course I didn't listen, because I don't do what you tell me if it is a good thing for me to do. Tell me to jump off a building, I'm there! If you want me to like you too, well, I probably already do.
Airport day. Airport Day. YAYYY!
ｫ That痴 Enough Already!
Read Comments ｻ
on May 8, 2004 01:42 PM,
Madfish Willie said:
Thank you for the kind words. That makes two of you now. Woohoo!
on May 9, 2004 04:01 AM,
Howard said:
Alex,
You made my day. Thanks very much! You are awesome.
H
on May 9, 2004 11:53 AM,
Marian said:
I like you, too! Seriously, if I were one of those people who divided my links by my perception of humor level, you would so totally be under the "Very Funniest Blogs Ever" heading. When I get behind in blog reading, you are the first person I miss, and the first person I try to catch up on.
on May 10, 2004 02:51 AM,
rachel said:
Aw Alex I love you bunches. I cant wait to party down in Phoenix!
on May 10, 2004 03:35 AM,
Rose said:
Aw, thanks, sweet cheeks!! You know I love you right back, right?
Had sushi the other night and thought of you. Can't wait!
on May 10, 2004 03:31 PM,
Simon said:
You've got great taste. And I've not heard the Pieman thing since my brother gave up on it 20 years ago, so it's good to be reminded of it!
on May 10, 2004 07:17 PM,
Alex said:
All,
I think I can blanket comment this time. Mainly because I just enumerated why I like all of you so much. Don't think this will be a common occurence, OH NO. I still like to answer each and every one of you. I am glad I could put a little smile on your faces. It's the least I could do when all of you keep me smiling - a difficult feat! :)
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May 05, 2004
May 5, 2004
Did I tell you I had 14 days left in my Master's Program?
It has been consuming my entire life, which accounts for boring posts, exhausted Alex, and boring posts.
What the hell does a girl have to do to get some comments around here, anyway?
It frustrates me that people involved in ongoing flame wars get readership and comments galore.
Instead of sleeping with someone, looks like I should piss someone off...Like I can see that happening, the blogsphere Passive Agressive. Guess I'll just keep groveling.
Read Comments ｻ
on May 5, 2004 10:09 PM,
CoolBlue said:
That's OK. I don't get any comments either.
Maybe we'll comment for each other...
OTOH, you are ONLY 14 days from completeing your Masters.
Good on you!
on May 5, 2004 11:10 PM,
Genevieve said:
I haven't been getting comments lately either!
But yay! for your almost-completed master's.
on May 5, 2004 11:58 PM,
Rose said:
Bah. Comments. Overrated.
Sorry I haven't been around, been doing hubby stuff and dad stuff and you know, just stuff.
I hope you're hanging in there and I'll page you on MSN some time soon.
on May 6, 2004 12:21 AM,
rachel said:
I always comment.. even if it makes no sense I still comment.
So 14 days until you're here?
I won't eat sushi but I'll drink like a fish!
on May 6, 2004 04:47 PM,
Alex. said:
CB,
Thanks for the words of encouragement...13 days, 13 days. I think I was just feeling pissy yesterday. Imagine that ;)
on May 6, 2004 04:48 PM,
Alex. said:
G,
I don't know why I like comments so much. I think I compared them to crack, before. Sometimes I just feel frustrated, I think. Definitely. THPT. I guess I should expect beaucoup comments when I don't have time to give beaucoup comments.
on May 6, 2004 04:49 PM,
Alex. said:
R,
Believe me, I was not finger pointing at YOU of all people. Especially since I have barely been making it down my blog roll! I guess I just felt like complaining.
on May 6, 2004 04:50 PM,
Alex. said:
Rachel,
Last class ends in 13 days - the actual ceremony isn't until July 24th, you both are still going to be there, right? Right? Right? Poke. Poke.
on May 7, 2004 12:28 AM,
amber said:
i don't get many comments either, chica.
but, anyway, congrats on finishing your master's. i'm graduating with mine in 2 days, and i can't wait. it's such an awesome accomplishment.
i hope things are going well. email if you need to talk.
on May 7, 2004 06:45 AM,
She-Dork said:
Hey Alex!
First, CONGRATULATIONS on your Master's. I know you are counting down the days and hours at this point!
Second, I am terrible about never commenting. I always read but rarely comment. I will try to speak up more often!
on May 8, 2004 09:14 AM,
Alex. said:
A,
You know I think you rock. Maybe you can lend me your hood. I'm scared of the whole damn thing, quite honestly!
on May 8, 2004 09:15 AM,
Alex. said:
She-Dork,
I don't want to FORCE you to comment. I was being pissy (imagine that!) I will admit, though, that I read your blog all the time. I just didn't comment because I didn't think you knew who I was, being that you were one of the Mosaic Minds Blogstars, and all! I am not worthy! :)
ｫ Hide Comments
May 04, 2004
Hurried Haiku from a Harried Hore
I cannot type fast
Synapses fire bullshit
Cup with lots of holes
My stomach grumbles
Peeps mixed with Rice Krispies Treats
move internally
Constitutional
Quandaries have me in knots
Will this ever end?
Oh stinky neighbor
how I long for your kitchen
to explode quickly
Computer sexy
Why can't you do it for me?
Clone my husband please.
Little picked noses
make fingerprints on my brain
Sneezingly disappear.
On paper! On references! On header! On footer!
On APA! On Format! On page numbers and indentations!
On 1050 words on the US Constitution!
On Bullshit! On Waxing Philosophic!
On Brain! On Don't give up! On Don't stew in your own juices!
Although a tasty treat you might make for some starving cannibals, I need you.
Th.th.th.that's all folks! I am not responsible for this post.
Read Comments ｻ
on May 5, 2004 04:58 AM,
Howard said:
Is it just me or do Rice Krispie Treats seem like the egg sack for Peeps? Just keep them warm and dry and in a month you'll have Peeps.
on May 5, 2004 06:36 AM,
Alex said:
H,
First thing I thought this morning when I read your comments was, "Say wha???" But then I thought about the crunchiness and the marshmallow goodness, and I think I get it. One never can be too sure, though, especially with my brain!
on May 6, 2004 12:58 AM,
Howard said:
Yep, you got it. Kind of a stretch, but I thought I'd give it a shot.
on May 6, 2004 04:50 PM,
Alex. said:
Better to shoot than to hold on to the ball! :)
on May 8, 2004 07:11 AM,
Surfcat said:
Hey isn't that Charles Bukowski?
on May 8, 2004 09:13 AM,
Alex. said:
Yeah! I wish! I wish I were published. A poet, brilliant, etc. The CRAZY I've got all kinds of under control.
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Simon World links with:
Asia by blog
May 03, 2004
If it so pleases you, my king and queen.
Dear Neighbors,
By all means, don't take out your trash in my concern! Please leave it camped outside your door blocking the entire hallway aromatizing our entire floor for as many days as you please! I love walking out of the elevator and getting smacked in the face with the appetizing aroma of rotting food and diapers. Quel Refreshing! I also love it when you drag it to the elevator, leaving a drippy, glistening trail of what I can only describe as abstract ingenuity! Which, I might add, is a complete pleasure to slip and fall in when I stumble home arms full of groceries! And, if you would leave it in the elevator to ride up and down and decompose in the summer humidity, until some good Samaritan places it in the trash receptacle for you, I would consider it a personal favor! After all, I wouldn't want you or your family to get too much exercise in the 10 or so steps from your door to the elevator, than having to push the button, wait *heavens no!*, and then have to ride the elevator down and actually deposit your bag. That would be expecting way too much on behalf of the people who placed you in your free house with free utilities and free trash pick up and free furniture. For free.
Live long and prosper! Oh, and if you need to wipe your asses later? Just ring the bell! I'll come running!
TCWH in 4F
Read Comments ｻ
on May 4, 2004 12:48 AM,
rachel said:
Girl fuck that,
First thing I'd do is print out a nice nasty note and leave it plastered everywhere.. and if THAT didn't work I'd start knocking on doors.. but then I'm an evil bitch.
Seriously.
on May 4, 2004 06:41 PM,
Alex. said:
You're the evil bitch, I'm the resident passive aggressive. Seriously. It sucks.
on May 5, 2004 04:30 AM,
amber said:
first thing i'd do is print out THAT note and put it on their door. they're evil, not you.
on May 5, 2004 06:38 AM,
Alex. said:
A,
I haven't actually SEEN the couple. Mysterious things keep appearing outside their door in the form of trash, a cart, etc. Maybe they don't even really exist. They're starting to do monitoring (cameras), so hopefully Uncle San will do something about it. Hopefully. You never want to f&uck openly with a military wife - them bitches crazy! Myself included.
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May 02, 2004
Beer. It's What's for Dinner
Beer. It's the manly-man drink. Adam Carolla and Jimmy Kimmel said so. Frat boys chug it, girls stomach it (because it's free) , and my Uncle claims it is all four good groups. You can have a smooth lager, a hearty stout. A tangy Sierra Nevada. A rollicking good Knock You on Your Ass BEER. A mysterious homebrew. (Yes, I realize I went from types to brands. Are you still questioning me?) Really. When it comes to beer, there are no limitations. We are limited only by our imaginations, the teacher in me (Where the hell did she come from? GETEROUTGETEROUTGETEROUT!!!) likes to say. However, never have I thought of a beer as cute. Not until last night, anyway. I went out to dinner with CT, and as we were walking back to retrieve my car I was treated to this delight:
Read More "Beer. It's What's for Dinner"ｻ
In y'all's best interests I have included an Altoid Tin so that y'all can grasp just how damn small this beer can is. 135 ml's. Do y'all remember science? Remember measuring liquids in ml's? Well I sure as hell do, and it is not a lot. Not even 135 of 'em. Damn Japanese. They think of a way to "cute" everything. Dangerous marketing, really. If I were a Japanese schoolgirl, I would SO need to add this to my collection of Hello Kitty, Badtz Maru, and the like. What the hell am I talking about? I'm a grown woman and I SOOO needed to add it to my collection. Total consumption time? 4.57 seconds. A littly bitty shot o'beer whenever you need it. Fits in the palm of your hand! Discreet!
In a not entirely unrelated event, I also purchased some candy at the FAMILY-Mart. I thought it was the standard Japanese Blue Flavor (You'd have to have tried this to understand, trust me) gum. While the flavor was right on target, the consistency threw me for a loop. Or should I say ROOP? Y'all have seen Lost in Translation, right? Stay with me, y'all. Focus! Focus! I popped a candy in my mouth and immediately began chewing. Disappointment. Not gum. And then, wait...wait...What the hell is this thing that I can only describe as a belly button rolling around in my mouth? Rubber bandy, small, round, you get the drift. Because I am not very smart, and also because I am kind of a glutton for punishment and stuff that disgusts me, I ate the whole damn pack before I figured out that they had incorporated those little Bubble Tea globules in there. Yuck. What are those made out of anyway? Did I mention that as you're chewing on the starburst like consistency candy that the globules squeeze out and pop down your throat? It's quite unsettling, really. Not unlike what I would equate with a first wet dream experience. I'll leave y'all with those thoughts...
Happy Saturday!
ｫ That痴 Enough Already!
Read Comments ｻ
on May 2, 2004 01:05 PM,
Genevieve said:
Those bubble tea gobby things are tapioca beads. Disgusting, if you ask me. I can't even really imagine it in gum. Ew!
on May 3, 2004 03:13 AM,
rachel said:
That is absolutely disgusting. Belly buttons? Yeah, I'll never try it..
on May 3, 2004 04:51 AM,
Gary said:
Japanese people make everything cute, because if something doesn't keep hold of their attention they're going to run around and cut everyone up with their samurai swords.
on May 3, 2004 05:56 PM,
Alex. said:
Genevieve,
Tapioca!!! I could not remember what it was for the life of me. Which is why I described them as belly buttons! Because you know me! (Homer Simpson voice) I am so smart! I am so smart! S! M! R! T! DOH! I mean, S! M! A! R! T! :0
on May 3, 2004 05:57 PM,
Alex. said:
R,
So you DON'T want me to bring you a huge case of it? I thought it was your favorite! *SOB*
on May 3, 2004 05:58 PM,
Alex. said:
G,
Your comment stuck with me all day - it's definitely one of the most offbeat I've ever read. That and your wife's "I'll rip her tits off!" which kept me smiling all week long. See? :) Still smiling.
on May 5, 2004 05:07 AM,
Howard said:
Hmm...I'm curious as to how this relates to a wet dream.
on May 5, 2004 06:39 AM,
Alex. said:
Hmmm...I just thought it would be rather unpleasant and sticky. At least, that's what I think I thought.
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Redneck Woman
May 01, 2004
Things That Make You Go "Sluttiness. It's Making a Comeback!"
As y'all can see, I am completely procrastinating again. Jumping from blog to blog versus doing my US Constitution reading. It really is fascinating stuff, but when it is 70' outside, I'd rather be inside at the computer, hunched in the dark. Just kidding. I just came in to turn the music down and check something out.
And I stumbled upon, via Dana, this little gem . From what I could stomach, it is a bunch of women who are going out to bars, and if they feel a spark (but seriously, folks, who doesn't feel a little spark after the 3rd cocktail? You'll never know whether it was the rancid cheese sticks or that shot of tequila, but damnit! You'll have another notch in your bepost!) , *ahem* servicing our G.I's who are about to be deployed under the clever name of Operation: Take One For the Country.
What I love about this:
1.) How many times have men been asked to "jump on the grenade", or "take one for the team", insinuating that they shag the ugly chick so that the rest of their buddies can get laid? Never in my life have I seen this attitude so prominently displayed so proudly than on a military base. And let's face it, just because you are a G.I. does not mean that you have the physique or facial features of your hero and mine, G.I. Joe. Or Goose or Maverick. (Tangent! Tangent! At Happy Hour at the Officer's Club last night, we encountered a gaggle of F-16 fighter pilots, with their call signals on their uniforms. For your perusal...RAM, SQUAWK, JINX, and SHOCK. I remarked to DH that none of them appeared to be married as they didn't have rings on, and he scoffed and said, "They're TDY. They're on the prowl. No rings." They looked and carried themselves as if they were the high school equivalent of the football team. They struck me as rather arrogant. Although, if I could do shit like that, I suppose I'd be a little arrogant, too. BUT, bar etiquette? No points for you, gentlemen, unzipping your flight suits and coyly sniffing your armpits did not win any points with the men, women, or children present at Happy Hour) I like that an organization of primarily women is dedicated to this. Publicly.
What I abhor about this:
1.) These women are NOT JOKING. They are very serious about sending these men off with smiles on their faces and boosts on their egos. This is fucking ridiculous. How long have women fought to appear as more than sexual objects in the public eye? FOR FUCKING EVER. When faced with accusations that they are prostituting themselves, they responded by calling the accusatory women "femi-nazi's" and some ridiculous slang for bitch, reducing the entire argument to a drunken fingernail scratching, hair pulling chick fight in the girl's bathroom at INSERT BAR WHERE YOUNG HORNY PEOPLE HANG OUT HERE, without the jello. That's right. Unite the rest of our country by pointing fingers and calling them names. I AM all about supporting our troops, but if the most effective thing that you can think of doing is spreading your legs and letting him blow his load (because what is it really after a drunken night in the bar? *True Love* ?!) albeit safely (because we should always practice safe sex!) before smacking him on the ass and saying, "Good LUCK over There!" well, then, I am baffled. Let's analyze this. How long does a man stay sexually satisfied, anyway? Men? I'd say about 10 minutes, if that. He'll be thinking about the next time he's gonna hit it before he gets on the damn plane! Want to make a more effective statement? Send him a sexy picture for him to use as um...*stimulation*. Send him a package of food! I know for certain they get tired of the same ol' same ol' at the chow hall (Yes. I realize this would be a most fortuitous place for a wonderful PUN, but alas, I am blank. I'll leave y'all the honors) . These women also assume that a little nookie is going to boost these men's egos. Why? Is everyone in your "battalion" Carmen Electra Double D worthy? I know that all. most. all. most. all. no, most. no, all men want to get some, but isn't that stereotyping men, as well? Even if it isn't, I just had to put it out there, for the sensitive ones.
Additionally, what if the poor guy is so stressed out about going to WAR that he can't get it up? What'll that do to his ego?
BLEAGH. Back to my Constitutional reading. Just some Saturday Thoughts for y'all! You know, because I really, really care.
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on May 1, 2004 04:39 PM,
Marianne said:
Painfully obvious there, yet such a universally stereotypical occurence?situation? that its become desensitized...are ya "pickin' up what I'm puttin' down here?"...basically, I concurr.
on May 1, 2004 10:31 PM,
viptir said:
just thought I'd throw out that "jumping on a grenade" is a stereotype that was only added late in the Korean conflict and in Nam. It was done by gloryseekers and idiots, not much difference between the two. Any of the "old hands" - like Grandpa, will tell you that it was easier and quicker to bat the grenade away with your hand or foot. If you saw the guy pull the pin and throw immediately, he said you had enough time to catch it and throw it back. not really about your topic, but I think you did a great comparison the sheer idiocy of grenade-jumpers and these girls. it's not heroic, it's not a sacrifice for the good, it's just plain moronic.
on May 2, 2004 12:21 AM,
rachel said:
..........I don't even know what to say.
Stay the f*ck away from Gary unless you want your tits ripped off. That's what I have to say. However I'm very hung over on an EARLY Saturday morning so perhaps I'll be more vicious later. :)
on May 2, 2004 09:59 AM,
Alex said:
Marianne,
Yes, I'm putting down what you're picking up. Unfortunately for these girls, they are picking up what everyone else is putting down! :)
on May 2, 2004 10:00 AM,
Alex. said:
Viptir,
Thank you for the compliment AND the history lesson. I am always interested in the origins of sayings like these. There's a book out there somewhere addressing matters like these, but damned if I can find it! :)
on May 2, 2004 10:03 AM,
Alex said:
R,
Rip your tits off! Hee! What a graphic visual. Although perhaps I would not have found it so offensive if this were more of a random thing, it did bother me that they bus themselves to areas where the men will be out and about. This reeks of desperation to me, not heroism.
on May 4, 2004 10:55 PM,
Ted said:
I think that turned out to be a hoax, although a lot of people fell for it.
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Your absence wears on me
An itchy green sweater
That looks better than it feels
Gets under my skin
Like fear.
Creeps up on me
In the night
Edited to Add: (Like cheap underwear)
Apparently, I've taken to writing lame ass poetry. You can say it's lame ass, because if there's anything that annoys me, it's when people put their SHITTASTIC poetry on the web and say LOOK! AT! ME! THIS! IS! GREAT! Being the horrible bitch that I have been as of late, I really want to write back and say, "Your poetry? It sucks. I'm just telling you." While I have been known to make exceptions for angst-ridden teens and those of you standing there with your hearts in millions of tiny pieces, I'm over it. In my mind, it's the literary equivalent of having a booger in your nose. Here's a motherfucking tissue. Now blow, damn you, blow!
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on May 1, 2004 10:48 AM,
rachel said:
I will watch South Park
All weekend and drink cheap beer
And maybe get laid..
how's that for a haiku?!
on May 2, 2004 12:17 AM,
rachel said:
Alex, go check out this link
http://www.idontthink.com/archives/001025.php
I thought of you when I read it. I think you'd make an excellent candidate. :)
on May 2, 2004 10:04 AM,
Alex. said:
R,
I would love to have a Blog design by Blogmoxie, but I think you don't have to have a home to enter. I saw this too, and was like, WOW! I wish I didn't blog yet! I think the girls' designs rock. Thanks for thinking of me!
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rachel links with:
FRIIIIIIDAY!
