Sometime around 8:00 last night, shortly before the sky opened over us, I noticed a weather report. I could have told you it was going to rain, and suddenly it did.
I quickly remembered the car windows and quickly ran to roll them up. The driver's side, into which the rain was ferociously blowing is the hard one. While pushing the button you have to pull the window up. This of course was especially difficult as the window and my fingers were soaked. As I got the windows up the hail started. I waited the hail out in the car then darted inside.
The storms raged on and off all night. The wind was insane, howling around the house, roaring in the tree tops. It was a night to feel small and weak in the face of that tiny taste of what nature can do.
I learned this morning about the tornadoes in the other end of our state. We were under a torndoe watch ourselves for a bit of last night, but I hadn't heard of any touching down at that point. Our largest hail was golf ball size according to my wife. I was retucking The Boy into his bed and heard it, but I wanted him asleep and wasn't willing to get up and check it out. I could hear how bad it was though.
All day today we saw dark clouds hovering, blowing slowly past. The wind was in the tree tops again with it's steady roar. There's something almost hypnotic in watching the trees in the wind. Miyazaki captures that mysteriousness really well in My Neighbor Totoro, especially when Tsatsuki is outside getting firewood and the wind come blasting through and whips the wood pile into the air. I didn't expect this would end with Miyazaki, but it's fitting. Whenever I really notice the wind, I tend to also think of Totoro as the wind is such an interesting facet of the movie.
In addition to the links above, here is the IMDB page about Miyazaki. I wouldn't bother so much, but he deserves every bit of recognition he gets, and all children deserve to watch his movies.
Our weather should be normal and calm by tomorrow. I hope so. I have great plans for mowing grass sometime this week. I'd like for our practice field to be dry for Big Brother's soccer practice tomorrow night.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Saturday, April 01, 2006
using a comment as a blog, with commentary
I'm not sure what exactly Danny was getting at when he posed his comment to me in his blog. I'm not going into the whole story of why the hell I ever bothered with this dumb fuck, but I did. Go see Doc about it if you want any more info. Those that know already already know, and since they are the few people reading this, they already know. Anyway, here is my response to the new Dumbass Danny. Anyway, after my "hitting kids is bad" comment, he accused me of being a spanker. I answered him.
I will admit, Danny, that I have spanked my kids. I have used very flimsy arguements to justify it. I still feel the shame of having hit my kids, and I know that I've done bad and hurtful things to my kids.
I know what it's like to feel that I have so little control that perhaps I should hit my kids and make them do what I want. That is a very powerless situation to put yourself in as a
parent, but that is nothing compared to what it does to our kids.
I also know what it's like to grow up with the dread of the whippings. I grew up being whipped in a manner that doesn't seem too far away from much of what the Pearl family suggests. Did they ever serve their intended function? Not one bit. They certainly hurt like hell. If anything, they served only to frighten and hurt me as a child, confuse me as an adult and to lessen my supply of tools with which to raise my children.
Once you've accepted hitting as acceptable, it lessens the power of every thing you do and it cheapens your role as a parent.
No matter how long it's been since I stopped spanking, I still know that fear in my kids' eyes that their father might hurt them. They certainly know I've hurt them, and I can't even start to think how that might effect them. I still know that I'm a person that has hurt his children.
I think a number of parents are upset at this boycot because it points out their own shortcomings. If you've been spanking, you've conditioned your kids with pain, how can you ever hope to top that as a motivation? How can you admit that what you've done, what you've justified, is actually wrong? How can you admit that you've twisted scripture to justify wanton abuse of kids? It's really hard to do, to admit that you've been hitting your kids. You never even want to call it hitting, because spanking is more acceptable, while hitting is hitting. But spanking is hitting. You can't spank without hitting. And hitting isn't okay.
If you don't believe that hitting kids is okay, then how can you support people who earn money from advocating the hitting of kids? That's foolish to even think it's okay. It's certainly at least selfish to be more concerned about your internet community than the fact that children are being abused by parents who think it's okay because their church or their christian friends suggest that it's okay.
That is the very heart of the matter, and it seems people want to hide it. Hiding child abuse is as bad as abusing the child. If you hide an entire culture of abuse, then you must take responsibility for each and every child hurt by these teachings.
In a sense, it's sort of a coming clean for me. I really wish I'd never spanked my kids. Nothing I say can change that I did it. I was spanked so regularly as a child that it really lost a lot of the horror that should be associated with hitting kids. It was so normal to me, just a part of life.
I was taught that humans were born with a sin nature. Left to themselves, all people would do all day is lay around and sin. If you were taught at a young age to fear god and dad, you would be spared this horrid life of sin and death and hell. So when I sinned, I was supposed to accept that I deserved to feel the pain of the rod and then be remorseful. I was never sorry because of my sin nature, so I had to be taught with pain how to truly feel sorry.
And still it didn't really have a major effect on me that I can point to and say, "Yes, that's because I was spanked." Of course I haven't really had to think about it for several years, and now it's all slowly coming back out. I don't remember the last time I truly considered the whippings I got till the boycot started me thinking. Reading some of the shit from the Pearl's book was just so much like my own experience that it kind of put me back there. I still don't like to think about it, so I may never figure out how those whippings fucked me up.
Between reading at Danny's then answering and having to be lazy about blogging, I need a fucking cigarette and a beer. I'm sinning twice, and it's all because I didn't get punished often enough as a child. Is cussing a sin? The commandments don't say "thou shalt not say fuck or shit or damn or hell or pussy or dick or etc." So what's a bitch to do? Fuck it, I need that goddamn cigarette!
Thursday, March 30, 2006
who the fffffffff
I'll go ahead and admit that I'm jumping on this from damn Kos. But seriously, who the fuck does this Howard Kaloogian think he is?
Here's the link, BLECH-AAAACK!
Cindy Sheehan is anti-troop? And he's pro-troop because he insisted that fresh coffee be given to some of our troops? Fuck you Howard Kaloogian! Why don't you and your coffee go and fight the fucking war and let the soldiers come home to their families?
How much more up Bush's ass could the Republican party be?
Here's the link, BLECH-AAAACK!
Cindy Sheehan is anti-troop? And he's pro-troop because he insisted that fresh coffee be given to some of our troops? Fuck you Howard Kaloogian! Why don't you and your coffee go and fight the fucking war and let the soldiers come home to their families?
How much more up Bush's ass could the Republican party be?
do you hit kids?
Regardless of where we think babies come from, when we choose to produce them and bring them into this world, we take on a certain duty and responsibility to them. Sadly, many of us don't stick with the contract.
I propose we remove words like spanking and beating and abusing from conversations that involve children. In their place we will simplify it to hitting. There are other abuses of children, but we aren't discussing those right now.
Do you hit kids? Do you hit all the kids around you that don't obey your rules? Do you hit your own kids? Do you call it something else when in reality it is hitting? Do you hit kids? Are you an adult? Do you hit you husband/wife? Do you hit your kids? Do you hit your neighbor? Do you hit the cashier at the grocery store? Do you hit kids? Do you hit your siblings? Do you allow your kids to hit? Do you hit kids?
It's just that simple. Kids don't react as well to being hit as you might think. Regardless of human resiliency, kids don't like being hit. Kids don't deserve to be hit. Do you think it would be okay for me to come hit you?
How about that last one? What if I came and hit you? Would that be okay? What if I could show you scriptural passages that I said indicated that I should hit you? Would that be okay? If I said to you that god told me to come and hit you, that god wasn't happy with what you were doing. Could I come and hit you then? If I decided that you were not following god's law, could I come and hit you?
Do you hit kids?
Even if you say that you don't beat or abuse your kids, if you hit them, then you've gone too far. You've proven that you are an incapable parent. You have two options. You can stop hitting and start parenting, or you can find a way to pretend that hitting kids is okay. You can be an adult, or you can be a person that hits kids.
Do you hit kids?
I propose we remove words like spanking and beating and abusing from conversations that involve children. In their place we will simplify it to hitting. There are other abuses of children, but we aren't discussing those right now.
Do you hit kids? Do you hit all the kids around you that don't obey your rules? Do you hit your own kids? Do you call it something else when in reality it is hitting? Do you hit kids? Are you an adult? Do you hit you husband/wife? Do you hit your kids? Do you hit your neighbor? Do you hit the cashier at the grocery store? Do you hit kids? Do you hit your siblings? Do you allow your kids to hit? Do you hit kids?
It's just that simple. Kids don't react as well to being hit as you might think. Regardless of human resiliency, kids don't like being hit. Kids don't deserve to be hit. Do you think it would be okay for me to come hit you?
How about that last one? What if I came and hit you? Would that be okay? What if I could show you scriptural passages that I said indicated that I should hit you? Would that be okay? If I said to you that god told me to come and hit you, that god wasn't happy with what you were doing. Could I come and hit you then? If I decided that you were not following god's law, could I come and hit you?
Do you hit kids?
Even if you say that you don't beat or abuse your kids, if you hit them, then you've gone too far. You've proven that you are an incapable parent. You have two options. You can stop hitting and start parenting, or you can find a way to pretend that hitting kids is okay. You can be an adult, or you can be a person that hits kids.
Do you hit kids?
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
today is . . .
Wednesday, 3/29, and Momma is, as usual, at work. The weather here has a hint of coolness, yet it is a beautiful day full of sunshine. I've scooped the dog poop from the yard and kicked the boys out into the outside to play. I however sit hunched over the computer tappingtappingtapping the keys, trying like hell to write something both legible and readable with just a touch of worthwhileness to it in the hopes that one day I will be the king of blogs.
Or not!
I have a mental list of chores that need to be done. I can look into the garage from here and see one of my big chores, cleaning that giant hole that hasn't been clear enough in years to admit a car. The grass is growing in wild patches of grass here, of lovely little purple flowers there. The lawnmower awaits, still resting from last year, hoping like hell that this is the year I change the oil.
Being Wednesday, tonight is Momma's roller derby practice. I'm sure I'll take the boys, and Big Brother will get even better on the roller skates while The Boy will continue his baby stepping along, convinced that my hands will forever hover just so, ready to either catch or pick up as soon as he should slip and fall.
Being 3/29, tomorrow is Lucero. I love getting to go out to see bands, and I've been looking forward to this show for a couple of months now. I certainly plan on fitting as many High Lifes into my belly as I can, and I might even raise the rock fist and sing along. Being the stay at home dad these days, along with Momma's all too often insane work schedule, my going out has been seriously curtailed. Subconciously, that seems to mean make up for lost time when the chance finally drops into my lap.
I know that it wasn't that long ago that I mentioned Lucero, and perhaps I should take a break between my rabid fan talk, but I just can't. Remember being a teenager when a single band could really change your life? You would get that album/tape/cd and listen to it so much that you almost wore it out that first week. The band took on some mythical greatness in your teen mind, and every word and note spoke to you of something bigger than you'd ever known, love greater than has ever existed, things you alone understood.
Then you grow up and things aren't so big, so grand, so right or so wrong anymore. You appreciate and love music a little differently. You've seen more of the world and of life and you just aren't as green as you were back then.
I believe that almost anyone can write a good song, and almost anyone can fall into a just so alignment where they have that one huge hit song without actually being a good enough band/musician to last. I need only mention the song "Come on Eileen (sic?)" to prove that point. Many bands can pull off a certain sound with a certain panache that they attract a cult following without having to actually be a good band, i.e. The Smiths (blech.) Some bands seem formed by someone else, a sort of musical ID that sits alone in the heavens, always knowing how and when to nudge this guitar player with that drummer who is friends with that guy that writes songs.
I fear I'll never stop adding to this meandering thing. I've come and gone several times, most recently to fix lunch for a pair of monkeys. Now I'm back and wondering what possessed me to start writing where I did, and what took me around that random corner to finish writing where I did. The world is certainly a worse place because I can't answer that question.
Or not!
I have a mental list of chores that need to be done. I can look into the garage from here and see one of my big chores, cleaning that giant hole that hasn't been clear enough in years to admit a car. The grass is growing in wild patches of grass here, of lovely little purple flowers there. The lawnmower awaits, still resting from last year, hoping like hell that this is the year I change the oil.
Being Wednesday, tonight is Momma's roller derby practice. I'm sure I'll take the boys, and Big Brother will get even better on the roller skates while The Boy will continue his baby stepping along, convinced that my hands will forever hover just so, ready to either catch or pick up as soon as he should slip and fall.
Being 3/29, tomorrow is Lucero. I love getting to go out to see bands, and I've been looking forward to this show for a couple of months now. I certainly plan on fitting as many High Lifes into my belly as I can, and I might even raise the rock fist and sing along. Being the stay at home dad these days, along with Momma's all too often insane work schedule, my going out has been seriously curtailed. Subconciously, that seems to mean make up for lost time when the chance finally drops into my lap.
I know that it wasn't that long ago that I mentioned Lucero, and perhaps I should take a break between my rabid fan talk, but I just can't. Remember being a teenager when a single band could really change your life? You would get that album/tape/cd and listen to it so much that you almost wore it out that first week. The band took on some mythical greatness in your teen mind, and every word and note spoke to you of something bigger than you'd ever known, love greater than has ever existed, things you alone understood.
Then you grow up and things aren't so big, so grand, so right or so wrong anymore. You appreciate and love music a little differently. You've seen more of the world and of life and you just aren't as green as you were back then.
I believe that almost anyone can write a good song, and almost anyone can fall into a just so alignment where they have that one huge hit song without actually being a good enough band/musician to last. I need only mention the song "Come on Eileen (sic?)" to prove that point. Many bands can pull off a certain sound with a certain panache that they attract a cult following without having to actually be a good band, i.e. The Smiths (blech.) Some bands seem formed by someone else, a sort of musical ID that sits alone in the heavens, always knowing how and when to nudge this guitar player with that drummer who is friends with that guy that writes songs.
I fear I'll never stop adding to this meandering thing. I've come and gone several times, most recently to fix lunch for a pair of monkeys. Now I'm back and wondering what possessed me to start writing where I did, and what took me around that random corner to finish writing where I did. The world is certainly a worse place because I can't answer that question.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
word of the day is . . .
Forfend, as in an old lady, back of her hand to her forehead as she slips from the chair in a dead faint at the sight of . . .whatever the hell could offend some genteel old matron.
"Heaven forfend," she says just as her eyes close in the swoon.
Forfend: avert, ward off, forbid or go to dictionary.com for the whole story like I did.
I'm afraid that once again I was reading at the Daily Kos. I usually only check them in my bloglines, but sometimes, as will happen throughout bloggywood, some random topic will actively suck me onto the page. Someone's comment contained the term "heaven forbid" which term I tend to mentally translate to "heaven forfend" because it sounds archaic and silly, like something Bart Simpson would say on any random episode in which he had to wear any sort of period dress.
Maybe I will dredge up more words of the day. It isn't a bad idea and additionaly gives me a topic about which I shouldn't generally be able to fuss/cuss over too much. Having said that, I'm due for a good rant sometime soon. I also don't have to think or link too much, just gibber a little bit in a way that at least I am amused by.
"Heaven forfend," she says just as her eyes close in the swoon.
Forfend: avert, ward off, forbid or go to dictionary.com for the whole story like I did.
I'm afraid that once again I was reading at the Daily Kos. I usually only check them in my bloglines, but sometimes, as will happen throughout bloggywood, some random topic will actively suck me onto the page. Someone's comment contained the term "heaven forbid" which term I tend to mentally translate to "heaven forfend" because it sounds archaic and silly, like something Bart Simpson would say on any random episode in which he had to wear any sort of period dress.
Maybe I will dredge up more words of the day. It isn't a bad idea and additionaly gives me a topic about which I shouldn't generally be able to fuss/cuss over too much. Having said that, I'm due for a good rant sometime soon. I also don't have to think or link too much, just gibber a little bit in a way that at least I am amused by.
Monday, March 27, 2006
word of the day anyone?
So I'm reading at Daily Kos about some political shit. I'm not going into it anymore than I have to because I don't want to plagerise them. The link will take you directly to the article, though it actually has nothing to do with my own blog. I include it as a reference just in case anyone wonders where I got this idea. I'm just covering my bases with thos Kos people. Don't hate me. I lean left. I'm cool.
The article was about privacy rights and mentioned an inability in some on the right to not be very tech savvy. A mention was made to a pair of lobbyists/criminals referring to clients as "troglodytes."
I've heard/read the word before and know that it's meant as an insult. I hear the word and think of some sort of mythical stone being, something like an ancient Thing from The Fantastic Four, but not so bright perhaps. I imagine something hulking and ancient, weathered by time.
Regardless of what I thought I knew, I knew I didn't know.
The following is from answers.com or go directly to the troglodyte page.
The article was about privacy rights and mentioned an inability in some on the right to not be very tech savvy. A mention was made to a pair of lobbyists/criminals referring to clients as "troglodytes."
I've heard/read the word before and know that it's meant as an insult. I hear the word and think of some sort of mythical stone being, something like an ancient Thing from The Fantastic Four, but not so bright perhaps. I imagine something hulking and ancient, weathered by time.
Regardless of what I thought I knew, I knew I didn't know.
The following is from answers.com or go directly to the troglodyte page.
Troglodytes is a genus of small passerine birds in the wren family. The genus name (Greek troglodytai, from trogle, "a hole" and dyein, "to enter") refers to the tendency of these wrens to enter small crevices and similar as they forage for food.Ssssssssssssoooooooooo . . .yeah . . .ya buncha dumbass wrens! HaHa, you forage for food and tend to make a buzzing noise in flight! Wrens SUCK! But seriously, I'm not Googling this one no matter how easy it is, but who the hell first used troglodyte as an insult? I'd love to know the context of this one.These wrens are around 11-12 cm long. They are typically streaked brown above and somewhat paler below, with short rounded wings, strong legs and a cocked tail. The flight is direct and buzzing.
why I won't bother
I grew up Christian, and I do remember the Bible. I have not forgotten a lot of what was drilled into me as a child. I could easily use the Bible to show certain people how, in their christian zeal, they are breaking the laws of their lord and of the Bible.
I've decided I won't do that. It's a waste of my time. As has been pointed out plenty of times, you just can't argue with someone who refuses to see logic. If you use the Bible or "god said it" to argue your points, besides making you look foolish, you accomplish nothing.
I do not believe the Bible nor do I believe in any religion that is based on the Bible. I believe the Bible is a book written over a number of years by myriad writers, each one interested in some personal reasons. Perhaps our planet has, in the past, been visited by sentient beings, and perhaps our ancestors, in their ignorance believed these beings to be divine. It could just as easily have been the lizard men from Atlantis who impregnated the monkeys whose offspring became human, half monkey/half lizard.
It is impossible to argue with closed minds. Some people have their identity so tied up in a narrow religious based view of the world that they are unable to see the truth of anything.
I have to wonder about that certain kind of christian who takes upon themselves to do god's work. The Bible never suggests that christians should deal in hatred and meaness and spiteful words. The Bible never suggest that it's followers should judge others or punish them. The Bible never tells christians to force their beliefs and laws on anyone. The Bible does say to live so that your life is like a light, a beacon to those around you that they will see the peace that god brings. You can't do this while being mean to people and damning them.
Having said all that, I foresee some visits from christians to insist on my wrongness. The Bible to me is not worth the paper it's printed on. I will gladly read any arguements to what I've said, but any arguement that is based on the Bible instead of actual logic is basically of slightly less value than a fart. A least a fart brings some relief.
I've decided I won't do that. It's a waste of my time. As has been pointed out plenty of times, you just can't argue with someone who refuses to see logic. If you use the Bible or "god said it" to argue your points, besides making you look foolish, you accomplish nothing.
I do not believe the Bible nor do I believe in any religion that is based on the Bible. I believe the Bible is a book written over a number of years by myriad writers, each one interested in some personal reasons. Perhaps our planet has, in the past, been visited by sentient beings, and perhaps our ancestors, in their ignorance believed these beings to be divine. It could just as easily have been the lizard men from Atlantis who impregnated the monkeys whose offspring became human, half monkey/half lizard.
It is impossible to argue with closed minds. Some people have their identity so tied up in a narrow religious based view of the world that they are unable to see the truth of anything.
I have to wonder about that certain kind of christian who takes upon themselves to do god's work. The Bible never suggests that christians should deal in hatred and meaness and spiteful words. The Bible never suggest that it's followers should judge others or punish them. The Bible never tells christians to force their beliefs and laws on anyone. The Bible does say to live so that your life is like a light, a beacon to those around you that they will see the peace that god brings. You can't do this while being mean to people and damning them.
Having said all that, I foresee some visits from christians to insist on my wrongness. The Bible to me is not worth the paper it's printed on. I will gladly read any arguements to what I've said, but any arguement that is based on the Bible instead of actual logic is basically of slightly less value than a fart. A least a fart brings some relief.
Sunday, March 26, 2006
been a long time
Wow, I haven't posted in a week! I guess I haven't had anything to be a foul mouthed jerk about. I can't really say that, but I watched as the moral watchdogs turned nasty and went feral on a person that could call her own army around her and smite them all if she wanted to. I'm serious about that shit too, a damn army of angry homeschoolers who be totally ready to start some shit. And from watching that, I decided that this would be the time that I didn't go goofy and rant and cuss. They make themselves look bad and this would be one time that I didn't join them in the hysterics, though my own hysterics are so far removed from theirs, excepting of course the hystericyness. Yeah, I need to think about that.
I found another cool Google Earth download, Unesco World Heritage Sites. I've barely checked it out as there are an enormous number of sites around the world. A member of Google Earth Community, which I'm not, sent them THIS, which she created to showcase paintings she's done. She's marked the places, mostly in France, where she painted different pictures. I love the texture it adds, to see her view of these place against the eye in the sky view of Google Earth.
This is the week that I finally see Lucero. They are playing an in store at 4:00 in the afternoon so the boys will get to see them. I'm almost sure that Momma has some babysitting set up so that she and I can go see them that night. I believe Momma and I may also get to see The American Plague.
Lucero is a band that I would describe as being born of beer and heartache. While the same could be said of a great many bands, these guys just do it better than most. I could get mystical and hippy about it and suggest some sort of cosmic gathering that brought these four guys together. They really do just work perfectly. To hear some Lucero, click HERE and then on "Nobody's Darling" under the album cover.
The American Plague are local boys. I haven't been listening to them a lot till just recently. I'd heard of them, but my nights out are so random and often unpredictable that I've never been able to see them. I've finally heard them often enough on the local college station that I finally picked up their cd. Description? different heavier '70's styles influenced kind of? Maybe that would work. Kick Fuckin Ass? Well, that would definitely work. To hear The American Plague you can check their Myspace page HERE.
I found another cool Google Earth download, Unesco World Heritage Sites. I've barely checked it out as there are an enormous number of sites around the world. A member of Google Earth Community, which I'm not, sent them THIS, which she created to showcase paintings she's done. She's marked the places, mostly in France, where she painted different pictures. I love the texture it adds, to see her view of these place against the eye in the sky view of Google Earth.
This is the week that I finally see Lucero. They are playing an in store at 4:00 in the afternoon so the boys will get to see them. I'm almost sure that Momma has some babysitting set up so that she and I can go see them that night. I believe Momma and I may also get to see The American Plague.
Lucero is a band that I would describe as being born of beer and heartache. While the same could be said of a great many bands, these guys just do it better than most. I could get mystical and hippy about it and suggest some sort of cosmic gathering that brought these four guys together. They really do just work perfectly. To hear some Lucero, click HERE and then on "Nobody's Darling" under the album cover.
The American Plague are local boys. I haven't been listening to them a lot till just recently. I'd heard of them, but my nights out are so random and often unpredictable that I've never been able to see them. I've finally heard them often enough on the local college station that I finally picked up their cd. Description? different heavier '70's styles influenced kind of? Maybe that would work. Kick Fuckin Ass? Well, that would definitely work. To hear The American Plague you can check their Myspace page HERE.
I have no point
First, we'll get the weekend's soccer injuries out of the way. I took what was basically a straight kick to the knee from one of my U8's on Saturday. That one hurt a lot at the time. It's a little tender still, but it's nothing serious.
I didn't play more than twenty minutes today. I didn't start, and very shortly after subbing in I endured one of those top-of-the-list sort of soccer specific joys. The pass was from roughly two feet away and sent the ball very forcefully at about a 45 degree angle. The ball travelled with great velocity into the meat and two veg. As men do when taking this sort of abuse, I immediately went into the fetal position and fell onto the ground.
I won't bore you with the details, the soggy, spongey quality of the field, the deathly cold wind that wouldn't stop, the hopping up and down to be sure that everything was where it ought to be. We lost by much more than we should have to a team that outpassed us. We wasted several good passes by overshooting and giving the goalkeeper the ball. I have to wonder if I hadn't taken the crotch express if I couldn't have stopped a few of their shots, turned the game a bit. But then I think that I don't want to presume such. But seriously, we need to practice.
Okay, that's the soccer post.
I didn't play more than twenty minutes today. I didn't start, and very shortly after subbing in I endured one of those top-of-the-list sort of soccer specific joys. The pass was from roughly two feet away and sent the ball very forcefully at about a 45 degree angle. The ball travelled with great velocity into the meat and two veg. As men do when taking this sort of abuse, I immediately went into the fetal position and fell onto the ground.
I won't bore you with the details, the soggy, spongey quality of the field, the deathly cold wind that wouldn't stop, the hopping up and down to be sure that everything was where it ought to be. We lost by much more than we should have to a team that outpassed us. We wasted several good passes by overshooting and giving the goalkeeper the ball. I have to wonder if I hadn't taken the crotch express if I couldn't have stopped a few of their shots, turned the game a bit. But then I think that I don't want to presume such. But seriously, we need to practice.
Okay, that's the soccer post.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
goodbye Buck
Country music lost another of the good ones. Buck Owens left us sometime today, and he'll be missed. The link is blue because that's how I feel.
Born the son of a sharecropper in Texas, Buck Owens was doing a man's job by the time he was 13 and making music by 16. His is yet another of those quintessentially American stories.
We miss you already Buck Owens!
Born the son of a sharecropper in Texas, Buck Owens was doing a man's job by the time he was 13 and making music by 16. His is yet another of those quintessentially American stories.
We miss you already Buck Owens!
Sunday, March 19, 2006
amazon sells child abuse manual
Amazon, the renowned internet purveyor of books and more sells Debi and Michael Pearls' books. These books are basically manuals on ways to train a child through continued beatings in order to create a child that obeys on command. The Pearls misuse the Biblical scriptures to justify their horrible and abusive techniques. I have been looking forward to making some purchases from Amazon, but I find that I just can't help them. Buy selling the Pearls' books, Amazon is part of the problem, they are implicitly condoning the brutalization of children in the name of training.
Please join the boycott of all who sell the books of the Pearls or otherwise support them and their abuse.
Please join the boycott of all who sell the books of the Pearls or otherwise support them and their abuse.
Saturday, March 18, 2006
soccer stadiums of the world
I've fallen in love. And it's all about soccer again. This time however it's Google Earth related, so no dirty thoughts there people.
I found this new toy at Google Earth blog. A lot of the stuff they discuss is beyond me or my concern. Some of it looks neat, but it's just not for me. So imagine my surprise tonight. I can now check out a little over 1,600 soccer stadiums around the world using Google Earth.
I haven't messed with it a whole lot just yet. I checked out the local college stadium where our Lady Vols have been hurtin' some people lately (okay, last fall.) I next looked at RFK where I really want to go see DC United put a hurtin' on someone. Did I tell you that Red Bull bought the Metro Stars? Yeah, that Red Bull.
So before coming back to blog about my new adoration, I was in Germany. I need to start buying lottery tickets again so I can win a trip to the World Cup. I figure the whole trip can be done right for a million, so if I win the Powerball, that's where I'll be this summer.
I'm sure the few people reading this give a shit, so here's the link. Have a blast flying around the world checking out soccer stadiums. Vive la futbol!!! And if you don't have Google Earth, HOLY CRAP! What are you waiting for? And you call yourself a homeschooler? Seriously, if you don't have it, it is soooooo cool! So cool! Go get it.
I found this new toy at Google Earth blog. A lot of the stuff they discuss is beyond me or my concern. Some of it looks neat, but it's just not for me. So imagine my surprise tonight. I can now check out a little over 1,600 soccer stadiums around the world using Google Earth.
I haven't messed with it a whole lot just yet. I checked out the local college stadium where our Lady Vols have been hurtin' some people lately (okay, last fall.) I next looked at RFK where I really want to go see DC United put a hurtin' on someone. Did I tell you that Red Bull bought the Metro Stars? Yeah, that Red Bull.
So before coming back to blog about my new adoration, I was in Germany. I need to start buying lottery tickets again so I can win a trip to the World Cup. I figure the whole trip can be done right for a million, so if I win the Powerball, that's where I'll be this summer.
I'm sure the few people reading this give a shit, so here's the link. Have a blast flying around the world checking out soccer stadiums. Vive la futbol!!! And if you don't have Google Earth, HOLY CRAP! What are you waiting for? And you call yourself a homeschooler? Seriously, if you don't have it, it is soooooo cool! So cool! Go get it.
damn revenuers
I got The Boy in bed earlier tonight, and Big Brother was on the computer, so I turned the tv on. I don't often do that for myself lately. If Momma is actually not at work she gets first crack at the computer, so I sometimes get the tv then, but it's usually during the day when nothing is on. Generally the boys get the tv giving me ample time to figure out when the good cartoons are on.
The good cartoons, in my opinion almost begin and end with The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy. That's my newest favorite show right now. Big Brother loves Ben 10, and I find that I can certainly enjoy it along with him. No show in recent memory can top Fullmetal Alchemist, easily one of the greatest things I have ever seen. I'm not even close to caught up on the story line. The dumbasses at Cartoon Network decided to mess with the schedule, and now they only show new episodes. That means basically that I need to start investing in the DVD's just to figure out the damn story.
None of that is the point. That was all a rabbit trail diverting us from the real point here. When I finally did get the tv I did in fact watch The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy. I loved it. I laughed still more of my ass off. Then I went channel surfing. I'd missed the first half of the new Doctor Who, so I have no opinion about that, although I really need to remember to watch it. I did watch the last half hour of a History Channel show, Rumrunners, Moonshiners and Bootleggers.
I've always harbored a sort of respect for the bootleggers. That's not a surprise really if you really know me. I can see myself about 60 years ago in a modified Ford, gallons of moonshine my sole companion. The only thing I see in my headlights is that long strip of blacktop and a fence and some trees. I've got the pedal down, while my eyes keep darting to the rearview mirror. I'm praying I don't see a thing in that mirror.
I'm not sure exactly what the law says about making liquor. According to someone on the show, while making wine and beer are legal, making any liquor requires paying taxes. I know that I can make beer and it's legal, but I can't sell it. Making beer is easy. Distilling liquor of any kind just seems to me like too much work. It's not something that I could see doing as a hobby, but as a nonchemist/distiller, I don't know that it isn't feasible to make liquor on an extremely small scale.
I want to think of the bootlegger as the basic stereotype of the poor mountain man trying to feed his family. I don't doubt that a good number of bootleggers at one time really were doing what they could, what they knew how to do. That view was somewhat tarnished tonight though when one man who used to distill alcohol discussed the fact that he basically making sugar liquor.
All alcohol is based on finding something that has sugar in it and making that sugar turn into alcohol. Next to the oldest profession, it's probably the second oldest profession. Wine uses the sugar from grapes. Beer uses the sugar from grains, usually barley. Liquors use a variety of things from potatoes to grains to plain old sugar.
I'd never heard of sugar liquor before tonight. Corn liquor I'm well aware of and well acquainted with. I've also been known to enjoy a particular cactus based liquor. But I'll be damned if I need to get drunk so bad I'll drink sugar liquor. That's not even trying. And yes, that was the point. I took you all around with those silly cartoon distraction, and in the end I just proved that nothing I say is worth the paper it's written on.
The good cartoons, in my opinion almost begin and end with The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy. That's my newest favorite show right now. Big Brother loves Ben 10, and I find that I can certainly enjoy it along with him. No show in recent memory can top Fullmetal Alchemist, easily one of the greatest things I have ever seen. I'm not even close to caught up on the story line. The dumbasses at Cartoon Network decided to mess with the schedule, and now they only show new episodes. That means basically that I need to start investing in the DVD's just to figure out the damn story.
None of that is the point. That was all a rabbit trail diverting us from the real point here. When I finally did get the tv I did in fact watch The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy. I loved it. I laughed still more of my ass off. Then I went channel surfing. I'd missed the first half of the new Doctor Who, so I have no opinion about that, although I really need to remember to watch it. I did watch the last half hour of a History Channel show, Rumrunners, Moonshiners and Bootleggers.
I've always harbored a sort of respect for the bootleggers. That's not a surprise really if you really know me. I can see myself about 60 years ago in a modified Ford, gallons of moonshine my sole companion. The only thing I see in my headlights is that long strip of blacktop and a fence and some trees. I've got the pedal down, while my eyes keep darting to the rearview mirror. I'm praying I don't see a thing in that mirror.
I'm not sure exactly what the law says about making liquor. According to someone on the show, while making wine and beer are legal, making any liquor requires paying taxes. I know that I can make beer and it's legal, but I can't sell it. Making beer is easy. Distilling liquor of any kind just seems to me like too much work. It's not something that I could see doing as a hobby, but as a nonchemist/distiller, I don't know that it isn't feasible to make liquor on an extremely small scale.
I want to think of the bootlegger as the basic stereotype of the poor mountain man trying to feed his family. I don't doubt that a good number of bootleggers at one time really were doing what they could, what they knew how to do. That view was somewhat tarnished tonight though when one man who used to distill alcohol discussed the fact that he basically making sugar liquor.
All alcohol is based on finding something that has sugar in it and making that sugar turn into alcohol. Next to the oldest profession, it's probably the second oldest profession. Wine uses the sugar from grapes. Beer uses the sugar from grains, usually barley. Liquors use a variety of things from potatoes to grains to plain old sugar.
I'd never heard of sugar liquor before tonight. Corn liquor I'm well aware of and well acquainted with. I've also been known to enjoy a particular cactus based liquor. But I'll be damned if I need to get drunk so bad I'll drink sugar liquor. That's not even trying. And yes, that was the point. I took you all around with those silly cartoon distraction, and in the end I just proved that nothing I say is worth the paper it's written on.
Friday, March 17, 2006
can you boycott evil?
This post is NO LONGER sticky and will remain on top for the present. Please scroll down for further posts.
This post has been further edited below.
My last post was about spanking and was inspired by the story of a mother, following advice from a pair of child beating/abuse experts. The advice resulted in the death of the child. Apparently, when a child won't stay in bed, it is okay to wrap them so tightly in the covers that they can't move. If you end up killing the child then you must have been abusing them incorrectly.
Well, it happened. See the story HERE. I first heard about all of this at Darryl Cobranchi's site. I've become a fan of Mr. Cobranchi's writing about news stories that affect us homeschoolers.
Blogging, as it has throughout the world, has become popular among homeschoolers. The Old Schoolhouse is a magazine by and about homeschooling and this magazine sponsors a blogging site named Homeschool Blogger. The evil couple that educate child abusers and provide lessons in abuse are well represented at both these sites. These sites help the baby beaters spread their word and profit off of beating lessons disguised as books.
A boycott has been called for both these sites as well as anyone who supports the baby beaters. If you want to know more about the baby beaters follow the link to stoptherod.net which I included in my last post. I will continue to give this link when I feel it might help.
Here's a link to the page at Stop the Rod that deals directly with the baby beaters. http://stoptherod.net/ttuac.html
The following links are part of the boycott of groups willing to help the baby beaters.
http://cobranchi.com/
http://kitchentablelearners.blogspot.com/
http://dantesvirgil.blogspot.com/
http://evilmissy.blogspot.com/
http://beingbridget.blogspot.com/
http://intothesunrise.blogspot.com/
http://www.odonnellweb.com/
http://asmallcornerofnowhere.blogspot.com/
Joyce Fetteroll has a site about both unschooling as well as parenting. This PAGE has helped me immensley in the past. I keep it bookmarked because the questions answered here come up very often with me personally. I'm including this link because it can help. This page has nothing to do with the boycott or with anything else mentioned. It is a page of help for parents who need answers. I would ask that everyone read through this page because as parents, we can always use another answer from another point of view.
I am posting this for the children. For me to boycott the fundies and their crazy websites and blogs is kind of like a vegan boycotting meat. I gave up superstition a long time ago, and I usually steer clear of the oppressive majority. I've always felt in the minority as far as homeschooling goes, and I've always been okay with that. But this is bigger than me and my feelings. This is about the uncountable children who are hurt every day in this country. This is about people finally standing up for the children who can't stand up, the kids who are beaten with straps and sticks and plumbing supplies.
Pain does not teach or train. Pain drives children to develop an animalitic attitude where life is all about avoiding being hit. I know what it's like to lie and hide to avoid being hit.
This post has been edited to add:
I've taken the sticky off and relegated this post back to when it was written. I won't say that I disagree with anything that I've said, but in discussing this and pondering it with people not involved, I wonder how reasonable a boycott is. I'm not against the idea, but I can't help feel that it's sort of a token thing that is impossible to use as a true weapon. I have to ask myself how willing am I to truly follow up on all of this. If I boycott one place for one thing, how far up the chain do I go to be sure that I'm in no way supportive of something I disagree with?
I'm not questioning a boycott of anything. If nothing else, it seems as though it should work to affect a change, but I doubt it will unless you can sway a great number of people. And even then it's only use is to bring some light to a situation.
Sadly, christians are possibly the best at this sort of thing. They have great numbers and they can rouse support. Many of them also have the kind of money to make a dent when it's removed.
In the end, I know that the effort is not about the boycott or who does business with which bunch of moralistic butthole child beaters. The focus should be the children. Perhaps our efforts could better utilized in other arenas.
This post has been further edited below.
My last post was about spanking and was inspired by the story of a mother, following advice from a pair of child beating/abuse experts. The advice resulted in the death of the child. Apparently, when a child won't stay in bed, it is okay to wrap them so tightly in the covers that they can't move. If you end up killing the child then you must have been abusing them incorrectly.
Well, it happened. See the story HERE. I first heard about all of this at Darryl Cobranchi's site. I've become a fan of Mr. Cobranchi's writing about news stories that affect us homeschoolers.
Blogging, as it has throughout the world, has become popular among homeschoolers. The Old Schoolhouse is a magazine by and about homeschooling and this magazine sponsors a blogging site named Homeschool Blogger. The evil couple that educate child abusers and provide lessons in abuse are well represented at both these sites. These sites help the baby beaters spread their word and profit off of beating lessons disguised as books.
A boycott has been called for both these sites as well as anyone who supports the baby beaters. If you want to know more about the baby beaters follow the link to stoptherod.net which I included in my last post. I will continue to give this link when I feel it might help.
Here's a link to the page at Stop the Rod that deals directly with the baby beaters. http://stoptherod.net/ttuac.html
The following links are part of the boycott of groups willing to help the baby beaters.
http://cobranchi.com/
http://kitchentablelearners.blogspot.com/
http://dantesvirgil.blogspot.com/
http://evilmissy.blogspot.com/
http://beingbridget.blogspot.com/
http://intothesunrise.blogspot.com/
http://www.odonnellweb.com/
http://asmallcornerofnowhere.blogspot.com/
Joyce Fetteroll has a site about both unschooling as well as parenting. This PAGE has helped me immensley in the past. I keep it bookmarked because the questions answered here come up very often with me personally. I'm including this link because it can help. This page has nothing to do with the boycott or with anything else mentioned. It is a page of help for parents who need answers. I would ask that everyone read through this page because as parents, we can always use another answer from another point of view.
I am posting this for the children. For me to boycott the fundies and their crazy websites and blogs is kind of like a vegan boycotting meat. I gave up superstition a long time ago, and I usually steer clear of the oppressive majority. I've always felt in the minority as far as homeschooling goes, and I've always been okay with that. But this is bigger than me and my feelings. This is about the uncountable children who are hurt every day in this country. This is about people finally standing up for the children who can't stand up, the kids who are beaten with straps and sticks and plumbing supplies.
Pain does not teach or train. Pain drives children to develop an animalitic attitude where life is all about avoiding being hit. I know what it's like to lie and hide to avoid being hit.
This post has been edited to add:
I've taken the sticky off and relegated this post back to when it was written. I won't say that I disagree with anything that I've said, but in discussing this and pondering it with people not involved, I wonder how reasonable a boycott is. I'm not against the idea, but I can't help feel that it's sort of a token thing that is impossible to use as a true weapon. I have to ask myself how willing am I to truly follow up on all of this. If I boycott one place for one thing, how far up the chain do I go to be sure that I'm in no way supportive of something I disagree with?
I'm not questioning a boycott of anything. If nothing else, it seems as though it should work to affect a change, but I doubt it will unless you can sway a great number of people. And even then it's only use is to bring some light to a situation.
Sadly, christians are possibly the best at this sort of thing. They have great numbers and they can rouse support. Many of them also have the kind of money to make a dent when it's removed.
In the end, I know that the effort is not about the boycott or who does business with which bunch of moralistic butthole child beaters. The focus should be the children. Perhaps our efforts could better utilized in other arenas.
it isn't okay
Some people try to draw a line between spanking and beating. As far as I'm concerned, spanking is just an orderly beating. Spanking is about control and is not something that will help our kids.
I grew up being spanked. I don't know if it was of a Pearl mandated variety, but I don't doubt it was too far off the mark. In addition, I attended a small school that allowed corporal punishment most of the years that I attended. I received my share of spankings.
I have spanked my own kids in the past. It's not something I'm proud of. I really hate that I allowed that to become something I would do as a parent. But it is indicative of the power of spanking. Spanking breeds from one generation to the next.
When people spank and otherwise abuse their children, they are not loving them. What lesson is so important that someone feels the need to beat their children with a length of plumbing pipe in order to teach those children? What lesson is more important than assuring your children that you will love and support them?
Certain spanking advocates advise their sheep to maintain a supply of abuse tools and to distribute them about the house and in the car. Leave the instrument of abuse where the child is constantly reminded of the pain and degradation the parent will throw at them should they step out of line. Be sure that your preferred instrument of abuse is always within arms reach in order to train your child whenever he or she deserves a beating. Apparently you can best train children through fear, intimidation and pain.
Healthy parent child relationships cannot be forced. They can certainly be beaten out of children. Or the children can learn that the love and the relationship are completely dependant on following an extremely strict set of rules and code of conduct. Failure to comply will result in pain, true physical pain and debasement.
I've seen how many people turn out from a childhood of abuse. I know how I turned out. I'm one of the ones that eventually came to expect a certain number of spankings. I hated them, but I learned how to shrug them off. I learned to not give a shit. Some of us grow up to need that abuse because some of learn that all relationships of love also involve the meting out of physical pain. Some of us learn that we manifest our love through our offering of abusive coercion. Some of us build up walls and retreat into a place free of both pain and reality. Some of us one day crawl away from all that and resolve to do better.
I'm trying to do better. I know two little boys who deserve a hell of a lot better. And if I can't train them to be good men without resorting to violence, then I don't deserve those two boys. Anyone who thinks spanking is okay should not have children.
Here's a link to an organization that wants to do some good in this matter. stoptherod.net It isn't a pretty sight, but the truth is often very ugly. If there is a word for amazed and disgusted, that's how I feel when reading this. That's how I feel whenever someone tries to discern between beating and spanking.
I grew up being spanked. I don't know if it was of a Pearl mandated variety, but I don't doubt it was too far off the mark. In addition, I attended a small school that allowed corporal punishment most of the years that I attended. I received my share of spankings.
I have spanked my own kids in the past. It's not something I'm proud of. I really hate that I allowed that to become something I would do as a parent. But it is indicative of the power of spanking. Spanking breeds from one generation to the next.
When people spank and otherwise abuse their children, they are not loving them. What lesson is so important that someone feels the need to beat their children with a length of plumbing pipe in order to teach those children? What lesson is more important than assuring your children that you will love and support them?
Certain spanking advocates advise their sheep to maintain a supply of abuse tools and to distribute them about the house and in the car. Leave the instrument of abuse where the child is constantly reminded of the pain and degradation the parent will throw at them should they step out of line. Be sure that your preferred instrument of abuse is always within arms reach in order to train your child whenever he or she deserves a beating. Apparently you can best train children through fear, intimidation and pain.
Healthy parent child relationships cannot be forced. They can certainly be beaten out of children. Or the children can learn that the love and the relationship are completely dependant on following an extremely strict set of rules and code of conduct. Failure to comply will result in pain, true physical pain and debasement.
I've seen how many people turn out from a childhood of abuse. I know how I turned out. I'm one of the ones that eventually came to expect a certain number of spankings. I hated them, but I learned how to shrug them off. I learned to not give a shit. Some of us grow up to need that abuse because some of learn that all relationships of love also involve the meting out of physical pain. Some of us learn that we manifest our love through our offering of abusive coercion. Some of us build up walls and retreat into a place free of both pain and reality. Some of us one day crawl away from all that and resolve to do better.
I'm trying to do better. I know two little boys who deserve a hell of a lot better. And if I can't train them to be good men without resorting to violence, then I don't deserve those two boys. Anyone who thinks spanking is okay should not have children.
Here's a link to an organization that wants to do some good in this matter. stoptherod.net It isn't a pretty sight, but the truth is often very ugly. If there is a word for amazed and disgusted, that's how I feel when reading this. That's how I feel whenever someone tries to discern between beating and spanking.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
damfotd
Yeah, this is the Dumb Ass MotherFucker Of The Day. You can go HERE if you want to cringe and like feeling that urge to snap. Scroll down to him being a dumbfuck about unschooling to learn why the bile is rising.
If you don't like or understand unschooling, then shut the fuck up. If you read one post from your sister's friend's coop buddy in Tulsa and they say that god hates unschooling, then shut the fuck up. If your kids attend public or private school, or if you school at home, then shut the fuck up. If you want to argue what I say using scripture then shut the fuck up.
I am not against educating your children in the best way that you are able. I am not against any form of homeschooling that centers on the child and the well being of the child. I may not personally approve of certain techniques or styles, but if your children are the center of every reason you homeschool, then I can at least agree with your motivations.
I will not describe unschooling to anyone. If you want to know about it, go to Google. Don't just read one thing, read them all. Read and read and read. Email some unschooling families. Read John Holt's books. But don't give us this bullshit about how horrible I am and how dumb my kids are going to be. If their future livelihood depends solely on their having achieved a diploma from a public school, they will know to walk out the door and keep looking.
Seriously, if you can only tear down, then shut the fuck up. I wouldn't have bothered with this if this guy hadn't shown up at Doc's blog with his smarmy attitude. If you bring the shit to our Doc then you are asking for the raining down of my hell fire.
I don't give two shits for intelligent discourse sometimes, and I don't give two shits for Careful Thought's opinion. Hell, anyone with a Bible verse at the top of their blog loses points right away in my opinion. And for the record, I can do intelligent if I want. I can rant or argue or debate in any form I want. I choose not to do so now. I choose to call a motherfucker a motherfucker.
If you don't like or understand unschooling, then shut the fuck up. If you read one post from your sister's friend's coop buddy in Tulsa and they say that god hates unschooling, then shut the fuck up. If your kids attend public or private school, or if you school at home, then shut the fuck up. If you want to argue what I say using scripture then shut the fuck up.
I am not against educating your children in the best way that you are able. I am not against any form of homeschooling that centers on the child and the well being of the child. I may not personally approve of certain techniques or styles, but if your children are the center of every reason you homeschool, then I can at least agree with your motivations.
I will not describe unschooling to anyone. If you want to know about it, go to Google. Don't just read one thing, read them all. Read and read and read. Email some unschooling families. Read John Holt's books. But don't give us this bullshit about how horrible I am and how dumb my kids are going to be. If their future livelihood depends solely on their having achieved a diploma from a public school, they will know to walk out the door and keep looking.
Seriously, if you can only tear down, then shut the fuck up. I wouldn't have bothered with this if this guy hadn't shown up at Doc's blog with his smarmy attitude. If you bring the shit to our Doc then you are asking for the raining down of my hell fire.
I don't give two shits for intelligent discourse sometimes, and I don't give two shits for Careful Thought's opinion. Hell, anyone with a Bible verse at the top of their blog loses points right away in my opinion. And for the record, I can do intelligent if I want. I can rant or argue or debate in any form I want. I choose not to do so now. I choose to call a motherfucker a motherfucker.
it isn't really bush
The following started out as a post on a Yahoo group I'm a member of. But I couldn't let it stay there. It's great fun, so I brought it here. And with no effort whatsoever, I've got a blog for the day. I rule! So, whithout further ado, my answer to a not so innocent question from someone silly enough to still argue any proBush stance. What a silly ass!
Someone wondered why we tend to hate Bush so much when it isn't really him that is the problem on the right. It really is just an absolute breakdown in the ability to be human and empathize. But that's Republicans for you.
So why should we heap so much scorn and hatred on Bush? He asks for it. Just to look into his simpering beady eyes irks me. The ratty little half smile that says "yeah I'm lying again" as he trys like hell to pretend that it's all cool, that's he's in control.
I fully believe that Cheney is much more to blame for all of this, as Bush isn't smart enough to carry it all off. Cheney is the real evil along with a few other people that we probably don't even see, and I am certain that they wear dark cowls with deep hoods pulled over their faces. And we don't ever really see Cheney enough to realize the extent of his own personal culpability. He's never in the limelight.
Cheney is too busy anyway. He has to drown a certain number of kittens each week in order to catch an erection. He's snorted so much coke off of dead hookers that he finally just started snorting dead hookers. Bush is almost as bad, but he's always had Cheney around to mastermind whatever scheme their ridiculuos addictions call for.
Cheney regularly shoots old men in the face. He also shoots mailboxes. The mailboxes are because he's drunk, but the old men are special. And this is the shit that Bush doesn't know. He is the monkey to Cheney's organ grinding.
Cheney shoots old men for the blood. It takes a lot of magic to rule the world. Cheney knows that with each pint of innocent blood shed, his power grows ever stronger and Cthulu is that much closer to being released. And no one hates old people like Americans, so who's going to notice?
Someone wondered why we tend to hate Bush so much when it isn't really him that is the problem on the right. It really is just an absolute breakdown in the ability to be human and empathize. But that's Republicans for you.
So why should we heap so much scorn and hatred on Bush? He asks for it. Just to look into his simpering beady eyes irks me. The ratty little half smile that says "yeah I'm lying again" as he trys like hell to pretend that it's all cool, that's he's in control.
I fully believe that Cheney is much more to blame for all of this, as Bush isn't smart enough to carry it all off. Cheney is the real evil along with a few other people that we probably don't even see, and I am certain that they wear dark cowls with deep hoods pulled over their faces. And we don't ever really see Cheney enough to realize the extent of his own personal culpability. He's never in the limelight.
Cheney is too busy anyway. He has to drown a certain number of kittens each week in order to catch an erection. He's snorted so much coke off of dead hookers that he finally just started snorting dead hookers. Bush is almost as bad, but he's always had Cheney around to mastermind whatever scheme their ridiculuos addictions call for.
Cheney regularly shoots old men in the face. He also shoots mailboxes. The mailboxes are because he's drunk, but the old men are special. And this is the shit that Bush doesn't know. He is the monkey to Cheney's organ grinding.
Cheney shoots old men for the blood. It takes a lot of magic to rule the world. Cheney knows that with each pint of innocent blood shed, his power grows ever stronger and Cthulu is that much closer to being released. And no one hates old people like Americans, so who's going to notice?
Sunday, March 12, 2006
new week, new pain?
So we are off on another soccer adventure. The news of my lovely adult recreational team is much brighter this week, speaking solely in terms of the team. We won, though I must admit that we were able to substitute up to five players at a time, while the opposing team had no subs.
We played the team from Sweetwater today, and I'll never know why they don't bring enough players. The one time I remember playing in Sweetwater, they had subs. But out of three years that I've played, we've been there once.
They can be a physical team. They can also be the kind of team that bitches about the physical game played against them, even when you are repaying their jabs in kind.
I'll know tomorrow about the usual round of aches, but I have new stuff to bitch about today.
There is the bruise on my thigh from a kick, a little high if you ask me, but I'm not the ref. I pulled some muscle in the opposite thigh as well. I also landed hard on that leg doing a slide tackle. Generally, a slide tackle involves jumping with both feet at the ball to force your opponent to at least stop and chase after the ball. It's a desperation move that one uses as a last resort. Instead of both feet this particular time, one foot stuck in the ground so that as I hit the ground, I landed on that foot. Snapping your foot up to your ass with such force will end up putting stress on your knee. I'm pretty sure that I didn't do any real damage, but it still feels a little unpleasant.
That's my story for now. We got home from the game with just enough time for Momma to touch up her makeup, change into work pants and take off. I can't take a shower unless the boys are inside, and one more beautiful day here means I want them out in it as long as they can. All that to say that, almost three hours after the game, I'm still filthy. I want a shower, and I don't really feel I can relax until them. I'm still in soccer shorts, dirty socks, dried sweat, dead grass that crept under the shinguards and dirt. My face feels gritty if I rub it, so I try not to.
But the pizza is out of the oven. It's finally just dark enough and the boys are just hungry enough that it's time for everyone to be inside. My shower can't be more than about 20 minutes away, so I am off. I told my crappy story, and now . . .ass washin'!
We played the team from Sweetwater today, and I'll never know why they don't bring enough players. The one time I remember playing in Sweetwater, they had subs. But out of three years that I've played, we've been there once.
They can be a physical team. They can also be the kind of team that bitches about the physical game played against them, even when you are repaying their jabs in kind.
I'll know tomorrow about the usual round of aches, but I have new stuff to bitch about today.
There is the bruise on my thigh from a kick, a little high if you ask me, but I'm not the ref. I pulled some muscle in the opposite thigh as well. I also landed hard on that leg doing a slide tackle. Generally, a slide tackle involves jumping with both feet at the ball to force your opponent to at least stop and chase after the ball. It's a desperation move that one uses as a last resort. Instead of both feet this particular time, one foot stuck in the ground so that as I hit the ground, I landed on that foot. Snapping your foot up to your ass with such force will end up putting stress on your knee. I'm pretty sure that I didn't do any real damage, but it still feels a little unpleasant.
That's my story for now. We got home from the game with just enough time for Momma to touch up her makeup, change into work pants and take off. I can't take a shower unless the boys are inside, and one more beautiful day here means I want them out in it as long as they can. All that to say that, almost three hours after the game, I'm still filthy. I want a shower, and I don't really feel I can relax until them. I'm still in soccer shorts, dirty socks, dried sweat, dead grass that crept under the shinguards and dirt. My face feels gritty if I rub it, so I try not to.
But the pizza is out of the oven. It's finally just dark enough and the boys are just hungry enough that it's time for everyone to be inside. My shower can't be more than about 20 minutes away, so I am off. I told my crappy story, and now . . .ass washin'!
Saturday, March 11, 2006
the skeleton
The boys are both outside playing, and I am even wearing shorts for now. I'm not blogging twice in one day to run salt in the wound that our beautiful weather may wear on my faithless readers. No, this is about the skeleton.
Something died less than a yard from our front door long enough ago that it is now no more than a nice clean skeleton. We don't use the front door usually except for a few friends who haven't quite realized to come to the back. Other than that the front door is the place where I dismiss the random peddlers of both god and the newspaper.
I have been opening the front door lately as a quick exit while the boys are outside. As those days come more often, I will be less likely and able to be outside with them, so the front door affords me one more place from which to spy on the boys while they play.
I had stepped out the front door to remind them of something and happened to find the skeleton. I would have found it soon enough, but honestly, the front porch pretty much sucks, and the majority of time I spend in the front is usually yard work related. It's not quite that late in the season yet.
It is a mammal skeleton. It is completely clean. It was a small animal, possibly a kitten. I haven't moved it enough to really examine it, and I don't know what I would do as far as examining it. Before the night ends, I plan to google some info about safety and possible storage. For all the macabre aspects, as a homeschooler, I feel like I've been given a free lesson, lying right there under the hydrangea.
Oh, yeah, I need to learn about hydrangeas also. They always need trimming, but I never know if I'm doing it right and have been too lazy to check a book out of the library.
So post number two for the day is just as boring as number one. And that's sad, because a post that starts out with bones and ends up with trimming bush should really be more exciting than that.
Something died less than a yard from our front door long enough ago that it is now no more than a nice clean skeleton. We don't use the front door usually except for a few friends who haven't quite realized to come to the back. Other than that the front door is the place where I dismiss the random peddlers of both god and the newspaper.
I have been opening the front door lately as a quick exit while the boys are outside. As those days come more often, I will be less likely and able to be outside with them, so the front door affords me one more place from which to spy on the boys while they play.
I had stepped out the front door to remind them of something and happened to find the skeleton. I would have found it soon enough, but honestly, the front porch pretty much sucks, and the majority of time I spend in the front is usually yard work related. It's not quite that late in the season yet.
It is a mammal skeleton. It is completely clean. It was a small animal, possibly a kitten. I haven't moved it enough to really examine it, and I don't know what I would do as far as examining it. Before the night ends, I plan to google some info about safety and possible storage. For all the macabre aspects, as a homeschooler, I feel like I've been given a free lesson, lying right there under the hydrangea.
Oh, yeah, I need to learn about hydrangeas also. They always need trimming, but I never know if I'm doing it right and have been too lazy to check a book out of the library.
So post number two for the day is just as boring as number one. And that's sad, because a post that starts out with bones and ends up with trimming bush should really be more exciting than that.
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