Moose, the great distractor

Me as a baby, with my grandfather.

I'm pretty sad right now, friends. I won't go into why. But it has been such a good thing to have Moose! That dog is just a sweetheart, an angel!

My mother told me that her father loved St. Bernards. I did not know this. I loved my grandparents with every fiber of my being. I have to wonder if Granpa was influencing my snap decision to get Moose. I certainly never wanted a St. Bernard; I'm a German Shepherd girl, thanks to Harley. And I certainly was NOT looking for a puppy that day. I wanted my next dog to either be a rescued dog from a shelter or breed rescue, or a remarkable german shepherd.

Maybe a factor also was I was homesick for my best girlfrienda Jennifer, and her kids. Or that Moose has small, weird looking eyes, just like me. :-)

I don't know why, I'm just glad I have him. I hope someone, somewhere, genetically engineers puppies that are born housebroken! :-)

At first Bungee and McGwire were afraid of Moose. I just decided to let them out yesterday and supervise, to see what happened. Moose hopped around all excited for a while. The rabbits ran. But their ears were "playful perky". So I wondered, were they scared, or happy? Instead of running and hiding, they'd run all around and not seek to hide under furniture. Things that make you go "hmmm"! Then, Moose got tired and laid down. The rabbits noticed that Moose wasn't chasing them, and actually started tearing by Moose very fast. Then McGwire (in the pic) finally went up to Moose as if to say, "Aren't you going to chase me?" Hilarious!

Being Single a Bad Business Decision

Have a new VP at our company, and he held a meeting yesterday. I work for a great company that is "family friendly", does "AWA's" (alternate work arrangements), etc.

The new VP is going to put a stop to that. He said the people who work a few days a week from home because of their children may continue to do so, but that would be one of the few examples of "good reasons" to work at home.

Once again, I'm screwed because I'm single.

Never mind the fact that working from home just one day a week would save me at least two hours in commute time, not to mention the cost. I don't deserve that convenience or cost savings because, as someone who did not spew out a spawn, I am of less value as a person. My needs come second.

I should be used to this by now. As a nurse I was expected to work the suckiest shifts, the holidays and overtime because I didn't "have a family". So I guess my life and interests have less meaning?

I should just start telling people I'm married and have a screaming brat of a child, just so I could get the same benefits as other married people.

But that still doesn't make up for the economics. It is impossible to afford a decent house as a single person in Denver. You need two incomes. Two bedroom condos start at $165,000, and that's without a yard or a porch. If you're single and you actually want some company (like a dog), you have to buy a house. Decent three bedroom houses here start at $200,000. This compares to $60,000 in Kansas.

So, that means that as a single person, I need to make more money. But single people are not promoted at a high rate. Put on top of that the fact that attractive people are favored for higher paying jobs and promotions, and I'm totally fucked. And no one is buying me dinner or kissing me on the mouth.

What a bunch of shit. Grrrr.

Some days you wish you never opened the newspaper.

I think some people deserve to rot in hell. Too bad I don't think there is a hell.

I think we should lock the mother, stepfather, AND THE UNCLE THAT TURNED HIM AWAY in a jail cell and beat them daily and starve them, so they can see how it feels.

Harsh? Waah. I don't care.

And what about this asshole? Had a seizure and drove his newer-model SUV into a hotel, killing one and critically injuring another. Says he "couldn't afford his seizure medications". Hmmm, but you CAN afford a $35,000 SUV? Fuck you. Oh, and here's a clue: if you aren't taking your seizure medicines for whatever reason, DON'T GET BEHIND THE WHEEL, FUCKTARD!

I suppose his right to drive is much more important than the right of others to live.

A Mother's Guilt

I never understood why new moms were so broken up when going back to work. I always thought they would be glad to get a break from a screaming, pooping kid. But it kills me to leave Moose while I go to work. I feel so guilty! So I guess I "get it" now.

No time for computers, no time for site tinkering. It's all Moose, all the time. He's so cute! I'm taking him for a car ride every day to get him trained while he's still small enough for me to push around.

He begins puppy obedience a week from today. :-)

Moose's First Day Home

I'm so tired I can't hardly capitalize my sentences.

Lots to tell you about the puppy today. too tired to type. too tired to talk. soooo tired! and I didn't get my apartment cleaned like I wanted. It was all day, take the dog for a long walk, then come home and he'd pee on the carpet. Not his fault; the fault of the breeder who paper trained him. Never paper train a dog. Always crate train.

LEFT: Moose is the puppy on the bottom. My new baby!

I took him to two pet stores today, to socialize him. he had crowds around him. everyone loves him. I've met more people in my apartment complex today than the whole 9 months prior. He's popular and has made friends with two other dogs, Max (part jack russell, part daschund), and Kingston, the most gorgeous 120 pound Malamute I've ever seen.

He's becoming socialized a little bit better. My apartment manager is going to come by at noon and let him out, which is a load off my mind because he's too young to hold it that long.

My vet gave me a tude about how it's not fair to keep a dog in a kennel as long as I'm going to (I'm at work, 9 hours away from home) and I said, well, I'll dedicate my whole evenings to him. Most people have lives or kids and don't pay that much attention to their pets as I will. He's also going to start puppy obedience as soon as I can afford it, and when he's six months he's going to doggy day care 1-2 times a week. also, starting January I'm going to work from home one day a week and so I'll only be away from home four days a week.

bookmark his website cuz I'll be adding pics constantly: Moosehead's Page.

the pic of me is hideous. dog damn it.

the vets office went nuts over him. they broke out the digital camera and took pics of him for their bulletin board. he threw up after his shot :-(

the bad news: he has intropy of the left eye (the lid turns inward). I suspected a problem, which is probably why the breeder sold him to me for less and said she woudn't breed or show him. the vet wouldn't have noticed that, or his tummy rash. i had to point it out to her.

When he's neutered they'll have surgery on his little eye. AWWW!

he weighed a little over 20 pounds at the vets today (10 weeks old) he kept walking into the glass thinking it was a door and bumping his head.

things moose learned today: "kennel in" (he goes into the car, or he goes into his crate at home), "kennel out" (he gets out of the car), how to ride in the front seat, and how to walk down stairs. walking better on leash but won't stay on left side.

sooooooo tired. i'm not making sense, and my punctuation is like that of a republican vice president.

tomorrow is the season premiere of buffy the vampire slayer! woohoo! that show makes me feel tingly in my naughty places.

a friend at work is taping the sopranos for me. sucks not to have cable. she;ll also try taping six feet under for me too. you should watch those shows they so kick ass.

moose doesn't like baths. holy god. he went mach 10. freakazoid.

and now for the story of my rabbits first seeing moose from across the room today... how to describe their reaction.... hmmm...
have you ever seen popcorn popping in a pan when someone forgot to put the lid on, and it's like a snowstorm of kernels flying everywhere? these rabbits were airborn. they SCREAMED IN TERROR. (ever heard a rabbit scream? the most awful sound in the world). Moose was across the room not doing anything! He freaked out and ran for the front door, then peeked around the corner, terrified. the rabbits looked like they were caught in a tornado, bouncing off their cage walls. litter went everywhere. you had to see it to believe it. i've never seen anything like it. The rules of gravity did not apply to them.

please forgive the worst grammar, capitalization and punctuation ever to spew forth from me. i'm on benadryl for an allergic reaction so that doesn't help either. Nite all!

IT'S A BOY!

My new baby!!!

Name:
Registered Name = "Simply Moosehead's Heinous Hangover"
Call Name = MOOSE!
Age: 10 weeks
Weight: 20 pounds
Breed: Saint Bernard


Yes, you all saw it coming, didn't you? I went to pick up my friend Jennifer's dog, and ended up leaving with one for myself, too. I'm insane. Broke and insane.

By the way, I'm usually much more glamorous than I am in that picture. Really.

You can see more of Moose at his website.

OK, we lost, but Roy wasn't in the net

Lost to San Jose Sharks 2-3, but don't cry for my beloved Colorado Avalanche! We're like the cat that bats around the mouse for a few pre-season games before the regular season's MERCILESS SLAUGHTER.

Got to see a no-gloves fight, and a puck shatter a panel of glass at the Pepsi Center, so that was cool.

I think the highlight of the evening was when my friend Kerry got stopped by security. Kerry had a baby 3 weeks ago, so she had a bag with her that had a breast pump in it. (Mary writes down reason #204985 NOT to have children...) Anyway, the security guy tried to tell her she's not allowed to bring any glass objects into the Pepsi Center. I thought this was infinitely hilarious and laughed so loud I think dogs in the next state heard me. Kerry said to the guy, "It's not glass, it's plastic." I said, "Aw, c'mon, tell him what it is! Tell him!" Again, for some reason Kerry did not find this funny.

I went apeshit crazy in the Av's store. I already have a jersey but I wanted a Patrick Roy jersey. Did NOT buy one (for $150 each? Sorry, the dude would have to not only buy me dinner, but actually PUT OUT, for me to pay that much for the privilege of wearing his name on my back). Bought 2 shirts, a sweatshirt, an "Avalanche" sign for my cubicle at work, a lanyard with the Av's logo for my work ID, a license frame for my car... I think that's it.

Ya know, I'm too old for the "groupie/idol worship" crap like I used to have for Billy Squier when I was 14. But I can sure see why hockey players get their share of booty. How can you not be hot for such raw talent, such testosterone? The exotic CANADIAN surnames... the goatees... YEAH BABY!

Giving up for now...

Thanks everyone who helped test my first attempt at my very own template. Unfortunately, it was a dismal failure :-)

OK, I will have to rework my Diary-X template. However, I cannot do it today because I'M GOING TO THE COLORADO AVALANCHE HOCKEY GAME TONIGHT! YAY! And I cannot do it tomorrow because I'm picking up a St. Bernard puppy and meeting my best girlfrienda in Kansas to deliver it! Her hubby is buying it for her birthday. So I'll be gone about 10 hours tomorrow.

Sigh, maybe next week on the template thing! Until then, I'll continue the "simulcast" between Blogger and Diary-X. Next week I'll start with my usual daily rant entries so this should be fun to read again (I hope).

Fucking CSS!

Lord help me, I've been trying to set up a new template at my new diary-x blog so I can quit the "simulcast" double posting I've been doing at my old Blogger blog and automatically reroute everyone over to Diary-X. If you're reading this from the blogger page, go check out the diary-x link. I just can't figure out what to do with all my side links. And I can't figure out how to get the frame off of the damn tagboard window. ARRGGGHH!

Let me know how everything looks in different browsers, K?

BTW, my allergies are killing me, even had to call in sick to work today. I hate that!

Sadistic Advertising

In the comments of my last entry, two individuals said they had gotten a newspaper clipping of a weight loss article mailed to them anonymously. This has happened to many people, including me. Let me tell you the story...

About 12 years ago I was dating a guy I really liked. He went off to California to some boot camp (Green Berets? One of those special things). Anyway, he'd write me letters. One day I received an envelope, with a handwritten address to me but no return address. It was postmarked California. Inside was what appeared to be an article for a weight loss product torn from a newspaper. It had written in the margins: "Mary, try this! It works!"

The only person I knew in California was the dude I was dating. I was crushed! I stopped writing him and didn't reply to his letters.

A few years later I read an article in my local newspaper about how many people this form of "advertising" has hurt. It was then I realized that he didn't mail that to me at all. I never dreamed of someone advertising something that way!

Here is something from snopes.com that explains it further:

A number of companies doing business through the mails have at various times used the "personalized post-it note stuck to what appears to be a page torn from a respected publication" ploy. The standard accompanying note takes the form of a "[insert first name], Try this -- it works!" entreaty signed with a common initial. The envelope it arrives in appears to have been addressed by hand or to have been individually typed on a rickety old typewriter, bears a real stamp in the upper right-hand corner (no postage meter mark, in other words), and does not look like the impersonal piece of direct mail advertising it is. Instead, it closely resembles what it's supposed to mimic: something a friend would tear out and mail to you.

A number of companies have used this form of direct mail advertising:

In 1991, tearsheets for Gero Vita GH 3 Famous Romanian Anti-Aging Formula emblazoned with "John, try it. This works! R." popped up in folks' mail. In 1993 the same product was being marketed the same way, with only the sticky modified to read "Eugene. Try it. It's only 1/2 price!"

An outfit known as Georgetown Publishing, who was pushing $297 books entitled "American Speaker" and "Business Finance Advisor," used this method in 1995. The FTC took them to task for it, and in 1996 they reached a settlement under which the respondents were prohibited from misrepresenting an advertisement as an independent review or article, or failing to identify it as a paid advertisement. In addition, the order prohibited the respondents from misrepresenting their products as having been independently reviewed or evaluated.

That FTC settlement hasn't completely stopped this form of marketing, however. In 1999 "Try this -- it works!" post-its appeared on tearsheets mailed to Canadians targeted as potential buyers of "The Organised Executive," a monthly newsletter and Q&A service costing US $197 a year.

In 1997, Health Laboratories of North America, a firm marketing "Berry Trim Plus" diet pills, also came up with such a mailing but managed to bring it in under the FTC's radar by making their tearsheet look like a newspaper ad rather than an independent review, the feature that had been the downfall of Georgetown Publishing. Still, with a sticky note containing the usual "Try this -- it works!" pitch, the clipping looked like it had been sent by an acquaintance, and this had been one of the deceptive advertising practices which the FTC had charged Georgetown with employing. Berry Trim has had its knuckles rapped by the Better Business Bureau over this practice, but that hasn't stopped the diet pill manufacturer from using it. As of 2000, Berry Trim is also sending the online equivalent of these ads in the form of spam e-mail messages.
In other words, though this form of advertising is at least borderline illegal at the moment, don't kid yourself that we've seen the end of such mailings.

The reaction of those who receive such solicitations can well be imagined. But for those experiencing difficulty quite picturing it, here is a 1996 letter from one of Ann Lander's readers:


Dear Ann:
I had to write after reading the letter from "Roseville, Calif." Her sister had just found a note taped to her windshield telling her she was overweight and should do something about it.

I recently had a similar experience. I received an advertisement for a weight-loss program clipped from a newspaper. It came in the mail. On it was written, "Mary, try it. It works." There was no signature or return address.

I have been to five doctors in six years. The last one figured out why I am struggling so hard to lose weight. It's my metabolism.

I am slowly getting the unwanted pounds off and don't need any advice from anonymous "do-gooders."

For anyone who feels the need to "help" an overweight person, keep in mind that they are well aware of the problem. Reminding them of it just hurts.

-- Aiming For A Size 10 In New York

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear New York:

Losing weight is the ultimate do-it-yourself project.

Congratulations and good luck to you, dear.


It is this aspect of this form of deceptive advertising whch is most objectionable. Those on the receiving end of such notes are all too often left feeling injured by a "friend's" heartlessly helpful gesture. Not all of us have the high-powered jobs we lust after, or have a full head of hair, or have a perfect size 8 figure. Advertising of this ilk preys upon damaged self image, and in the process damages it even further.

I've gotten such advertising probably three times in my life, and it always reminds me of the relationship I threw away just because someone is trying to make money through hurting the feelings of others. I've heard other stories about sisters not talking to each other because one thought the other had sent it to them, etc. The people who are doing this will surely rot in hell for the pain they've caused.

Please let others know about this, so if it happens to them, they can do what I now do: just throw it away.

And now it's time for... MARY'S MAILBAG!

Article mailed to me this week by my mother:

"Lose 75 pounds... Really!"

Thanks mom.

My new blog site, beta version
I'm about a week or less away from having my new blog site up. I'm running a "simulcast", so if you want to go ahead and change your bookmarks, that would be fine. Here's the new site:

http://www.beermary.diary-x.com

The appearance is kind of messed up, but you can still read it. I'm working on my own custom template right now, which will involve me learning CSS. God help us all.

Beauty!

The drive to work was beautiful today. Light cloud cover, 60 degrees, sun rising in the east making the Rocky Mountains in the west have a purple hue, and the best part was that the mountains got snow so the higher peaks were snow-capped, beautiful white. I love Colorado!

I'm taking a beginning HTML class today. Yippee! :-)

I have the mother of all hangovers. A dirty, nasty, no-good, sonofabitch hangover. I have my coffee, my ice water, my chocolate and my ibuprofen, so I should be fine.

I get to go to watch THE COLORADO AVALANCHE play San Jose on Saturday! My sweet Lord, but I do love hockey!

Hey, if there is anyone on the planet that doesn't know about Webshots yet, I suggest you go check it out. You can download five images a day, and set new images to your desktop every day. Other images put on a cool slide show as a screen saver if you want. You can even put a calendar on your desktop, which is very helpful to people like me who have trouble orienting to time and place.

Sorry, no rant this morning. Gotta do the medical news and get my ass in class.

Terror Scare Men: "We Want Our Dignity Back." America to Men: "Then Quit Acting Like Jackasses."

Reference: CNN.com

Today the three men who caused the Florida commotion continue to whine. They said they never mentioned 9/11, never talked inappropriately. Here is what Ms. Stone, a patron in the restauraunt, remembers:

"One guy said, 'Do you think that will bring it down?' I looked at my son and we were just looking at each other and he said, 'If that doesn't bring it down, I have contacts. I'll get enough to bring it down.' And to me, that meant, they were planning to blow up something."

Keep in mind, the country was on a Code Orange terrorist alert that day. The three explained that part of the conversation by saying they were talking about bringing a car down to school for transportation. However, the hospital they were to work at says they would only be there for nine weeks. Anyone who has any experience with medical studies knows that it doesn't give you much time for sightseeing.

Anyway, more from the article...

Michael Prieto, an attorney speaking for Stone, who was treated and released for stress at Emory Hospital in Atlanta on Monday, said the students were not taking responsibility for their actions.

"I don't have any reason to believe they are in fact terrorists, however, I do believe they said exactly what Ms. Stone said that they did, and at this point they're just trying to cover their own actions," he said.

Prieto said Stone has a multi-cultural family that includes Middle Eastern relatives and has no reason to fabricate a story based on the students' appearance. It's more likely that the students were toying with people in the restaurant who may have given them dirty looks, he said.

According to Prieto, Stone could hear distinct aspects of their conversation.

"There were certain things she wasn't sure of, but the laughing about September 11 and the mention of September 13, there was no mistake whatsoever," he said.

Last week Stone said she heard the bearded man, Gheith, say that if Americans "were sad on 9/11, wait until 9/13."

Gheith admitted that he and his friends felt uncomfortable stares in the restaurant. "As soon as we walked in this restaurant, we were suspects obviously by this woman," he said.

"When we walk in anywhere, things stop -- People turn and look," added Choudhary. "We've come to live with it. We've come to accept it because it's so common. It happens everywhere."

"We'll do little things like raise our voice in a conversation just to show people we can speak English because most people off the bat they assume that you can't speak English," said Gheith.

So, could this whole thing have started because they were, well, fucking with people basically, and now they won't admit it because they'd rather sue? You know Shoneys will be sued. And they're already scheduling a meeting with the hospital in Miami, since the hospital has received many threats, and has decided to have the students do their rotation elsewhere (for the safety of the students and the hospital). This from channel 9 news in Denver:

Altaf Ali, of the Florida office of the Council on American-Islamic Relations, at first said he was considering legal action against the hospital for violating the students' civil rights. But he decided to hold off after Michel agreed to meet with him Sunday and discuss the issue.

OK, those students can do a rotation in any hospital on the planet. How is having them change their rotation because of threats to the hospital VIOLATING THEIR CIVIL RIGHTS?

And I'm wondering why there has been no reference in today's articles about the validity of the initial report that the car ran through a toll booth. Surely there would be a big deal made if that report had been erroneous. That seems like suspicious behavior to me.

Also, I believe from the information that I have that the police acted appropriately. Two bomb dogs smelled explosives. Granted, they could have been hitting on a scent left in the trunk from someone carrying fireworks like two years prior. But the dogs don't know that! You have to check.

I think these guys need to shut the hell up. Sure I'm sad they get "looks" when they go places. But that's no reason to "teach people a lesson" by making up conversations to try and scare them. That, along with sending envelopes with white powder in it, will NEVER be appropriate.

I think we should be suing THOSE GUYS for violating OUR civil rights to live free of harrassing "jokes" like that. Oh, and PS -- if you're in America, and America is on a terrorist alert, that means you too assholes. I don't care what point you're trying to prove.

Moving

FYI, today will be a day chock full of meetings, so probably no updates until this evening.

I'm in the process of moving this blog from Blogger to Diary-X. I've found lots of great template designers, but I'm sooo picky. The templates are beautiful and classy. I'm looking for flippant and bitchy. So anyway, once I find a template it will take me about a week to modify everything, then I'll make the big move. Hope you all follow me there! I'll post more later. If anyone has any advice on using diary-x, let me know. It looks much easier than Blogger.

Reflections of Self

Busy day today. Meetings, classes, meetings....

I'm so uncomfortable in meetings. I get so nervous and end up interrupting people. I'm like the kid that spent her entire life sitting at the flimsy kid's card-table during thanksgiving dinner. Now suddenly I'm at the big-people's table, and I alternate between babbling and shyness. And my coworkers! Oh my God! They're so nice and supportive, and they think I'm wonderful and smart. I have never in my life had this much approval. Makes me hugely uncomfortable. God, if I get a self-esteem at this late date, I don't know what the hell I'm gonna do with it.

And guys (yes, good looking ones!) checking me out, even though I'm fat. Unbelievable! I can't even make eye contact with them. I know how to play the game (if memory serves), I know more than one guy that's just waiting for me to give one hint of receptivity, and they'd ask me out. But then I remember who I am, and I don't even want to go there.

I moved away so people could see me for who I really was. Now that they are, I realize I don't see myself in any positive light whatsoever. And I don't think staring into a mirror saying, "I'm good enough, smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!" is gonna do the trick.

I read in the paper how the suspected terrorists in Florida were bitching about how their civil rights were violated. That they were persecuted because of their race, and they did nothing wrong. Hey idiots, here in America we stop for tollbooths. And I'm white as snow, but you won't see me going into a high school and "joking" about going Columbine on people's asses. So how about you not joke about wanting America to blow up and cry, K? People as stupid as you, going to medical school? That explains a whole helluva lot.

Gerbil Genocide is His Intention!

I'm gonna give a shout-out to the best cartoonist ever, Joe Cartoon. If you have a fast connection, allow me to make some recommendations, so you can browse my personal favorites! (I tried to link directly to the cartoons, but couldn't. So you'll have to do some searching. Once there, go to "cartoons" and browse the titles.)

• Start with Micro-Gerbil 2001.
• Then go watch Joe Fish.
• You've bonded with the gerbil character now, haven't you? Go to the Gerbil Bar and have a drink with the lil' guy! (I love this one!)
• You can see why this guy chooses to become an activist and fight Gerbil Genocide.
• But he's not above being a sycophant with The Boss. (Although I am above looking up the word sycophant to see if I've spelled it right).
• More of a dog person? Watch Where my dog?
• Look at what a good dog Lump is!

See what I mean when I say the word "genius"?

My first blog review is in! 96/100, not too shabby. Thanks to Amy and everyone at r-e-v-i-e-w!

Sometimes Fate Does Mary a Favor

<------- This girl is NOT ME. Please don't think it is! Pics stolen from the Rocky Mountain News website.

I take I-25 home. Every single day. I get off work early on Friday's. Those two factors should have put me dead center in Lake I-25. However, yesterday I was instead on C-470, in a downpour that forced me to actually slow down. I had taken the long way home because I was going to stop in Golden at an animal shelter to play with some dogs. But it was raining so hard I decided not to stop at the animal shelter.

So, I was hella-pissed that I took the long way home, and was cussing and grumpy until I saw the evening news and saw what I missed on I-25.

There's a reason for everything. There's a reason that I stopped by a cubicle of a girl at work that I didn't even know, to tell her that I liked the pics of her dogs. She went on to tell me that she volunteers for the animal shelter in Golden and told me to stop by after work because they'd let me play with the dogs. I had been bitching about how much I hate living without a dog.

If it wasn't for that, I would have been on this particular stretch of I-25. And I haven't got the time or the patience for that kind of inconvenience, whether my car would have been flooded or not.

So, I must say, "Yay, God! You GO, God!" And I'm no longer pissy about taking 1/2 hour longer to get home from work yesterday.

(By the way, don't ask me how a state with fires and record-setting drought can have their main highway through their largest city flooded!)

Just because you CAN have a baby, doesn't mean you SHOULD

Meegan put this in the comments of my Bitchin' and Moanin' entry:

family dynamics are so... dynamic, hehe. they just suck. because i was not born with a penis i was treated like a second class citizen. if i had the right appendage perhaps my voice would have been heard.

This broke my heart because I know so many people who had the misfortune of being born with the wrong chromosome. Sometimes, a poor boy is born to parents who had their heart set on a little girl. From birth on, he could do nothing right. Sometimes, they're born female, to the lament of their SUPERFICIAL AND DON'T DESERVE TO BREATHE parents. My friend Jennifer, the most beautiful soul ever created, is still seeing the effects of her mother's favoritism towards her brother. First, it was when she was growing up. Now, it's more painful because it's against Jennifer's children. (Oh, and just an aside: her mother is one of the "deeply religious".)

I'm all for human rights, but I think Norplant should be mandatory for stupid fucktards like Jennifer and Meegan's mothers. Licenses to have babies should be given. You need a license to fish, why not a license to reproduce? Stupid people should not be allowed to traumatize children. I nominate myself as the person who will determine who is too stupid to pass on their DNA.

ASS CLOWNS!

Am I the only one on this FLIPPIN earth who knows how to drive?! DOGDAMNIT!

People, people, people... come closer... so I can bitch slap you so hard your grandkids will be saying in 50 years, "What the fuck was THAT?"

First of all, if it's dark, or stormy, or foggy, turn on your damn headlights. Not your parking lights. Parking lights are for parking. If your car is in "drive" that should be clue #1 that you're not in PARK. Don't worry honey, using headlights won't end up costing extra on your electric bill, I promise. You'll still have that welfare check so you can buy your kids generic peanut butter, then go out and blow the rest of it on cigarettes, booze, pot, and porn!

Still confused? Here, let me guide you, much like Jesus guided his followers even though at times they were TOO STUPID TO FUCKING LIVE. If the streetlights are on, so should your headlights be on. If you are having trouble seeing other cars without headlights, then your headlights should be on. If it's foggy, frosty, whatever, and you're the only moron on the whole fucking planet with xray vision to cut through the precipitation, please do the rest of us a favor and turn your headlights on. Thank you, Green Lantern!

Let's talk about turn signals, shall we? I'll let you into my lane IF I KNOW YOU WANT TO BE THERE. What's with this sudden cutting me off getting into my lane, so I have to jam on my brakes and the dogdamn 1980's rusted-out Ford Pickup with five immigrant laborers in the cab about smash into the back of me? They ARE NOT INSURED, FUCKTARD! Turn your signal on, I'll make a space for you. I KNOW you didn't get the fucking train set that you wanted as a child and therefore have lots of pent-up anger, but don't take it out on me, OK white boy?

Here is a term that I foolishly THOUGHT was in common usage: "PASSING LANE"!!! Mary, Sweet Mother of Jesus, do you fucking people know what "passing lane" means? It means get your dogdamn Lincoln Continental OUT of the left lane and let others drive OVER 45 on the freeway. WHY, for the love of God and in the name of all that is just, holy, and fragrant upon this beautiful Earth do you fucking snails feel you need to drive in the left lane? You have 2-3 other lanes to drive in on I-25, pee-stain. Get the fuck over.

To summarize lesson one: That odd rectangle-shaped thingie by your right foot is called a "G-A-S P-E-D-A-L" (ghas'-PEH-dahl). Mr. Gas Pedal is your friend. Do not fear Mr. Gas Pedal. Touch Mr. Gas Pedal, perhaps for the first time IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE. Don't worry, he'll still respect you. Caress Mr. Gas Pedal with your foot. Mmmmm, Mr. Gas Pedal likes that. Mr. Gas Pedal is sad when you ignore him. See Mr. Gas Pedal frown. See Mr. Gas Pedal cry. See Mr. Gas Pedal GRAB A FUCKING SEMIAUTOMATIC WEAPON AND SHOOT HIMSELF IN THE HEAD MULTIPLE TIMES! Oh my GOD! You KILLED Mr. Gas Pedal! You fucking BASTARD!

Don't let this happen to you. Use Mr. Gas Pedal. For the love of God and in the name of democracy, don't kill Mr. Gas Pedal!

Oh, I'm not done. Not by a long shot. For every day I sit my happy ass in my kickass red Dodge Stratus Coupe, I will have fodder for more advice. Stay tuned.

Bitchin' and Moanin'

OK, why did I write such an embarassing story about my brother Mark yesterday? Well, he deserves it, and I'll tell you why. Mark and my sis in law make probably twice my yearly salary. Mike probably makes about $10,000 less than me. Last summer, my brother Mark charged me $1000 to paint my house (I bought all supplies). OK, no problem, he gets a grand in cash, I get my house painted. Except for the fact that he resented doing it! He complained the whole time about how working 4 days in the july heat wasn't worth $1000. Plus, he had my dad and my brother Mike helping him. He didn't give them a cent. I heard that, behind my back, my sister in law was resentful about all the work "poor Mark" had to do for me.

Dudes. $1000 cash for 4 days work. I don't see that as exactly slave labor, do you? As an aside, I made $28,000 that year, and they made probably about $90,000 (before the thousand I paid them).

OK, eventually they "forgave" me for my "exploitation" of them.

Fast forward to last weekend. My brother Mike (poorer than me, keep in mind), spends his own money on gas and tolls to drive up to KC on his weekend off to help my brother paint his house. Mark not only didn't pay Mike, but he didn't even reimburse him for the expense of driving up there to help him. Mark makes probably 65% more than Mike does per year.

Now that as an isolated incident wouldn't phase me. But compare it with how he COMPLAINED about being PAID CASH to help ME out... sigh.

The thing is, this is a perfect example of the elephant that has been in the room all my life. My family doesn't consider me their family. Something they'd do without thinking to help out a family member, or even a friend, is seen as a burden when I am the beneficiary of the effort. Don't get me wrong, I'm totally grateful for the help. Mark came down from KC last December and him and his wife helped me pack to move (I only had 3 weeks notice that I needed to move). I couldn't have gotten it done without them. But there's a difference. My dad, mom and Mike helped too. But they didn't seem resentful to have helped. There was this undercurrent of resentment from my brother and sister in law.

At least the attitudes of my parents and my brother Mike have improved over the years. Used to be the whole family resented me. I was a drain on their resources. I was the puppy they picked up from the pound at a lonely moment, and now they wish they could bring me back, but how would that look?

I'm rambling and jumping from topic to topic here. I guess (one of) my point(s) is: If you are ever going to WANT help, don't begrudge giving it. Another point is that I really don't know if my family realizes how blatant their actions are, and how obvious the resentment is. I notice. And for that group of people who don't really consider me their family, you can bet your sweet ass they'll be there pawing through my belongings when I die, like vultures over roadkill.

Here's an excerpt from my will:
"And to the members of my family who talked behind my back and resented my existance... I leave my vibrator collection. Now go screw yourself."

The Sisters Revenge Pt. 1

I remember my brother Mark was really gullible growing up. (Notice I said gullible, not stupid, which was what I was thinking but I wouldn't want to say it). When he was in about the 4th grade, one time he was on the pot pinching a loaf. We knew he went in there to pinch a loaf because he had a comic book with him. All he had on was a short bathrobe and his spiderman underoos (you'll soon understand how I know this). My littlest brother Mike was home, and our neighbor Darren was over, but Mom was at the store or something. So we got a chair and pressed the "test" button of the smoke alarm and started screaming, "FIRE! FIRE! EVERYBODY OUT OF THE HOUSE!"

Mark shot out of the bathroom, underwear around the knees (being in the process of being pulled up)... robe a' flappin'... pale and freakin'. He blazed out of the front door into the cool fall air. That's when we sprang into action and locked him out of the house. In his robe and spidey underoos. Mike, Darren and I laughed so hard we just about wet ourselves. Mark was mental with rage and we paid for it later with getting plenty of punches from him.

About 5 years later Mike and I were recounting the story to Mom, who didn't remember that happening (we got in trouble, so we remembered). I proposed that Mark was indeed foolish enough to fall for it again. He's in high school by this time, keep in mind. Mom said, "No way!" So, we wait for the next time he went in the bathroom to drop some friends off at the pool. Mom was home this time. We pushed the "test" button on the smoke alarm and screamed, "FIRE!" Yep, he fell for it again. You've never seen eyes that big as he busted out of the bathroom to make a break for the door. But he saw us laughing and didn't go all the way outside this time.

I bet he had racing stripes in his lonies. HA!

One year ago today.

Tens of thousands of people started their day. Said goodbye. Set off, never intending to be heroes, mourners, murder victims, survivors, widowed or orphaned. To be martyrs to democracy, victims of an extremist cause that they may not have even heard of, let alone understood.

They kissed their spouses, hugged their children, shared coffee with a roommate or a co-worker. They didn't know they were hated. Despised with such white hot emotion, that somewhere, someone thought they deserved to die. And those people who hated them were going to show it. Today.

One year ago today, cell phones started ringing. "Did you hear?" "Crash..." "Explosion..." "Plane..."

"World Trade Center".

Tens of thousands of people with friends and family working in the World Trade Center... one thing they all now have in common is that one moment. That sickening and overwhelming tidal wave of realization. Blood rushes from one's head, time stands still. You try to drink in every detail, every rumor, every new piece of information. But you still can't get your arms around it.

The rationalization. "He's fine. She's fine. Just like in 1993. They'll evacuate, it will be a cluster, it will be frightening. But they'll live to tell about it."

A horrible accident. Second plane, and it's like someone has thrown a bucket of ice water on you. This is no accident. The pentagon? Must be a rumor. This can't be happening.

Then the fear spreads from concern of family and friends in the WTC, to concern for our country. How many more planes? What is coming after the planes? Where will the bombs hit? Will they be nuclear? Oh God. Will they be nuclear.

Everything stops, and all TV sets are turned on. Years of being numbed to graphic, violent images in the media are wiped clean as the flaming buildings are branded into the raw flesh of our collective psyche. And tens of thousands of people are rushing to their cell phones for reassurance, for hope. Some get answers and get to say goodbye. Others get the eerie uncertainty of not being connected. Leaves hope, leaves dread.

Meanwhile, others have loved ones in peril on a fourth plane. Then the rumors start... four planes, six planes, the control towers can't get an answer from 10, 11 planes... the stories spread as fast as one can dial a phone, or listen to a news anchor.

But in reality it is just one plane. One plane left, one flying bomb. But thanks to the cell phones, this time the passengers are warned. This is not a hijacking, this can only end in death of everyone on board, and countless others on the ground. "Let's roll." Thus, those passengers save us all not only from mourning more victims, but from the indelible mark of yet another plane being swallowed by yet another building that anyone in the country can name in an instant.

The whole nation watches in disbelief as the South tower collapses without warning. Dan Rather is speechless for a moment, then is overwhelmed by his inability to describe the events. The English language hasn't made up such words yet. The image speaks for itself. And everyone watching immediately wishes they could hit "rewind" and undo it.

Tens of thousands of people, holding out hope for the rescue of their loved ones, sit transfixed to that TV image of the familiar tower suddenly gone, waiting for the dust to clear.

There are no words to describe the amount of disbelief when the remains are visible and you realize there is NOTHING THERE. There is nothing left. How can it be gone in seconds? How the FUCK can there be nothing left? The mind cannot grasp the enormity of the structure, the kinetics of the force that brought about its destruction. And the souls inside. Were they aware they had only seconds to live? What about the ones that almost made it out? The mind can be tormented thinking of the thousands of personal variables. Trying to put ourselves in their place. What were they seeing, smelling? Thinking, feeling? Did they know? Were they resigned, or did they fight? Did they die hoping?

For tens of thousands of people, the nightmare started that morning. One year ago today, cell phones started ringing. "Did you hear?" "Crash..." "Explosion..." "Plane...". The nightmare started, and never stopped. It's been a year, and it hasn't stopped.

They scoured the city with posters and pictures. They called friends of friends who knew someone who has a cousin that worked on the 46th floor, on the 91st floor... "Did you see a woman in a black dress?" "Did you see a man with gold framed glasses?" "She was eight months pregnant... did you see her? Did she get out?"

As tens of thousands of people frantically searched for any miniscule reason to hope, the rest of the nation watched as rescuers and construction workers risked their lives going through the rubble in search of survivors. Maybe some of us remembered the San Francisco earthquake, and the miraculous finds beneath the wreckage. In a mirror of the realization that dawned on us all earlier that morning, we as a nation began to realize the force of the collapse left no hope. No hope.

Only the hardest of hearts could remain unchanged after what happened a year ago today. There are those who say we have no right to grieve over the events of that day, over what was lost, unless we knew somebody who perished in the attacks.

We grieve, but we have the luxury of forgetting, of putting it out of our minds. But tens of thousands of people live with that overwhelming grief every moment. It's the last thing they think about when they go to sleep, and the first thing they think about when they wake up.

It's those people that make me wonder what I should do today. Should I watch the tributes on TV? Yes, it's painful, but isn't enduring that pain the least I can do? It's a faded watercolor compared to the neon vibrancy of the ever-present loss felt by the families of the victims. How callous would I be to turn my back on those images, on remembering?

Should I wear the flag pin I want to wear? Should I pretend like it's any other day? What do you want me to do?

For all the thousands of people still feeling the loss like a year hasn't passed, I say this: I wish with all my heart that I could take away just a fraction of your pain. I wish I could give you the peace of mind you had one minute before those cell phones started ringing. One year ago today.

Plagarizing Nicole's Content Again...

Nicole echoed my sentiments in her post from today. Lazy clickers, here's the summary of what she said:

I am quite frightened by the Deeply Religious. In fact, they give me the wiggens.

Normal religious folk don't scare me. You know, they believe in whatever god[dess]/higher power and they go to church [or not] and they're happy with their lives and comfortable with their faith.

I have a theory that the Deeply Religious are miserable. They cling to religion like a life jacket, and think they're going to make points with whatever god they believe in by spreading the Word. And, you know, with extra points comes happiness. But the Deeply Religious never get happy, so they continue to do crazy ass shit in the name of their god.

The thing that pisses me off the most about the Deeply Religious is their capacity for hate. In most cases the Deeply Religious consider themselves to be better than another group of people. They think they're living their lives better, or they think the group of people beneath them are living sinfully.

...Those fucktards [tm BeerMary] over at godhatesfags.com [although I hear the site no longer exists] are a prime example of the Deeply Religious spreading hate. Fred Phelps doesn't spread the word of god, he spreads his own fucked up propaganda to people too scared not to believe it.

...Let's not forget organizations like the Klan, who think their god has decreed that the only good person is a white Christian person. Again, with the spreading of hate. My personal favorite are the Deeply Religious who consider women to be the root of all evil in the world. Like the story I talked about yesterday, the Deeply Religious think it's OK to maim, kill, and rape women and girls in the name of their god.

The Deeply Religious are, in part, why I am not a religious person. They give all religions a bad name. I don't need to be saved, or born again, or converted, or anything like that -- I'm perfectly happy with my lack of religious faith.

I began to just write a paragraph in her comments, really I did. But then I realized I was on a rant... AGAIN... so I'll move it over here and continue it, lest I crash Nicole's comment server!

The people who screech loudest to condemn the rest of the world for not being close enough to Christ are the ones whose behavior least resembles His.

Religion has been used as an excuse for the most hate-filled, intolerant, and violent acts throughout the history of man. And I guarantee you God is pissed!

If there is something that you believe God considers a sin, fine. But are you so conceited that you think you can be "God on earth" and pass judgment on others? Put words in His mouth?

And throwing Bible quotes like sandbags to shore up the teetering dam of their self-righteous, over-inflated sense of self importance that constantly screams, "Feed me! Feed me with the condemnation of others!"... give me a break! For thousands of years scholars have spent their entire lives studying the Bible, and they can't reach a concensus on it's meaning. How is it a southern baptist in Alabama who barely completed high school can speak with authority on what God meant in the bible? Plus, the way those same people take things out of context. Before the Civil War, Southerners used the Bible to justify slavery. The Bible can be used to justify any sick perverted action or power trip a fanatic wants to take.

My boss and I were talking today about how we have a hard time believing we're in the 21st century. Look at the technology, and you become proud that society has come so far. Look at the injustices that humans inflict upon one another, and I wonder if we've made any progress at all. Just turn on Jerry Springer and you'll realize that we have made no Darwinian progress whatsoever when it comes to overall human intelligence and common sense.

Religion is a weapon used by those who want power and/or superiority over others. Religion equals judgment, which is in itself hypocritical because that's elevating yourself to do God's job (if you believe in a God who judges, and the Deeply Religious obviously do, and feel the need to do the judging for him and speak on His behalf). Religion is big business, that makes more money if their followers "fear the pains of hell" so much they're willing to throw money at escaping it. Religion will never ever work right because it will always be run by humans who will eventually put their own selfish needs above spiritual truth.

Some of the most spiritual people I've ever known have been just moderately religious in their particular faith. They keep an open mind about it, and I think that makes their faith stronger.

Remember at the end of that most excellent movie, South Park? Saddam and Satan come back to take over the world. They were quick to point out to Kyle's mom that they were able to take over earth because she (in her judgment and "activism") "... put enough hate and intolerance in the world to allow [for Satan's] coming."

Whether you believe in a Satan, or see him as a metaphor, it is a very good point. Religion may ultimately inflict more evil upon this earth than it was trying to save us from in the first place.

OK, so my scientific medical experiment to determine the efficacy of malted adult beverages in curing insomnia is a dismal failure. On to plan B in my quest to find an insomnia cure!

Um, anyone got any ideas on a plan B? Dudes, I need some sleep.

Have you seen anything cuter than my little 2 year old nephew Nathan trying to feed my bunny Bungee? When I was back in Icky-ta, Nathan would sit outside my bedroom door saying "maawwwyy? wabbit? wabbit? mawwy? wabbit?". Then, when he'd try to feed Bungee, the bun would be so traumatized he'd just sit there and not eat. So Nathan would rub the carrot all over the bunny's face. "Cawwt? Cawwt? Cawwt?" "I hold! I hold! I hold!" Once, when my mom and I weren't looking, all of a sudden Nathan took a bite of the rabbit-fur-covered carrott. Nathan is an environmentalist at the age of 2. He wasn't going to let that carrot go to waste!

Have you ever been browsing blogs on your computer and the window keeps doing some funky scrolling thing, and you freak out because you think, "Who am I gonna have to give a bj to to fix this cluster?" but then you realize it's just because you were resting your beer on the spacebar and didn't know it? Then you start thinking about the fact it's your second beer and it's only four in the afternoon, and that you'd better face facts that you're an alcoholic, but then you think who the fuck cares because you don't have any spouse or kids to psychologically scar, it's not interfering with your job and you don't drive drunk and if you die young it just means your money-grubbing materialistic brothers get more life insurance so it's all good, so you decide to keep drinking and wish that beer wasn't so fattening? Have you?

Neither have I.

Fighting with Strangers

I go to Nicole's every day, it's a hella-cool blog. But today, I picked a fight with a total stranger on poor Nicole's comment board. Here is Nicole's original article. For lazy clickers, she was talking about how 9/11 is going to be a difficult day for her, and she plans on going home and getting drunk. I'm with her there! But here is what one person wrote back:

I have maintained ever since this all started that anyone more than two degrees of separation from the people who were hurt or killed in the attacks should not say that they are "grieving". Grief is something felt when someone known to you has passed away. It is possible for people not personally involved to feel sadness, fear, anger and all the other things but they are not the same thing as grief. (I should point out that my statement on grief specifically excludes anyone who was near enough to Ground Zero to have seen it all go down. That would put them at zero degrees of separation by default.)

I think if I see one more person saying "Remember 9/11" I'll shake that person by the collar and shout, "If you were one of the people REALLY affected by it, would YOU really want people reminding you of that day constantly?" It's all they can do to FORGET it for a few moments.

People put mementos on their web pages "in respect for the victims" yet never stop to ask if they would really WANT to be reminded of it so much. It's not a holiday.

That, and there's also the fact that the slogan has become a rallying call for all the war hawks. I think it is their way of trying to say:

"I support killing thousands of innocent strangers because a handful of deranged strangers using the same name for God killed a few thousand American strangers last year".

OK, I've talked about this before. I'm so sick of people RESENTING the fact that Americans everywhere were affected by this. It's like some think we don't have the PRIVILEGE to empathize or something. So, I wanted to rant on forever (you know me), but I kept it short by saying this:

I just love the people who feel they have the right to tell others how to feel. "OK, if you knew someone who died in the attacks, you're allowed to let it bother you in a way we will allow you to call grieving"... "You had a second cousin die, you can grieve. You had a third cousin die that you hadn't seen in 12 years, you can't grieve." WHATEVER!

I stood in front of my TV set in Kansas and watched live as the first towers fell. I knew it wasn't a Bruce Willis movie. And you have the nerve to tell me how I'm supposed to feel about that? GET OVER YOURSELF.

Just this week I attended a lecture about the Columbine shootings (my medical director was the physician in the first hospital receiving the victims). I didn't live in Colorado at the time, and I didn't know any of the students at Columbine. But I saw the photos and heard the 911 calls. Why don't you tell me what I'm ALLOWED to feel about that.

And let me just say this: ANYONE who feels that getting rid of powerful terrorist regimes is "...killing thousands of innocent strangers because a handful of deranged strangers using the same name for God killed a few thousand American strangers last year," is being sadly short-sighted. That's like telling a battered woman that she shouldn't call the police after getting her ass kicked because, after all, she's not being hit NOW. Guess what? It'll happen again unless you teach the wife-beating asshole that he can't get away with it. Terrorists will continue to attack us, on our homeland, with ever-increasing destruction unless we make it so they CAN'T. It is not "war-mongering", it is SELF-DEFENSE. Good Lord people, I'm a Democrat and even I can understand THAT.

As I've said in Marcus' blog about a million times, the days of having the luxury to be isolationist as a nation are over. Sure, we totally stuck our noses where it didn't belong in the past. But guess what people? SOMETIMES BEING THE WORLD'S POLICEMEN IS THE ETHICAL THING TO DO!

There is evidence that FDR knew about the horrors going on in Nazi concentration camps years before we joined WWII. Was "minding our own business" the right thing to do? No! Yet that's what we did, we stayed out of it. What did we get as thanks for that? Pearl Harbor! (Yes, I know that attack was from the Japanese, I'm just saying that sometimes we're dragged into a fight whether we want to be or not).

Of course, if you ask the woman who wrote that comment on Nicole's message board, I have no right to be upset about Pearl Harbor or the Nazi concentration camps because I wasn't directly affected. But I digress...

If Clinton had responded to the USS Cole attack by aggressively removing Bin Fuckhead from the face of this earth, we as Americans wouldn't have stood for it. But if we had, there'd be 2800 people alive today, going to work at the WTC.

What kind of horrific attack is this country going to have to withstand before the pacifists say, "Oh, Okay.... I guess NOW it's OK for us to take steps to make sure this never happens again!" I don't think GW is that bright, but I am behind him 100% when it comes to wiping Saddam and Bin Laden off the face of the earth, and in the process, giving anyone who wants to do a copycat a good dose of reality. Because one thing the Bin Laden's of this world hate more than the US, it's the thought of losing their power. Let's tell them, "You plan attacks on innocent people, and we take the power FROM you. We will not wait for you to kill thousands first. We've actually learned from the past."

Cryin' Like Nancy Kerrigan

Oh man, I made the mistake of watching one of my favorite movies last night. "Bridges of Madison County."

I have watched that movie so many times that the sound on the VHS cassette is almost shot. Each and every time I see that movie, I cry through half of it.

I don't like to cry during movies. Makes me feel manipulated and stupid. But that movie... something about it rings so familiar...

But how can this be? I wasn't born in Italy, I'm not an Iowan farm wife with two children. And I certainly don't think Robert Kincaid (Clint Eastwood) is attractive at all.

Something about Francesca though (Meryl Streep). In the opening scene, she's listening to the radio while making dinner. Then in comes her family. No one talks to her or asks her anything. Her daughter changes the radio station without a thought that her mom may have been listening to it. Really, if it wasn't for the fact that the food wouldn't be on the table but for her, Francesca is all but invisible. I'm sure she's loved by her family, but they don't find her interesting enough to look at, and they probably never did. She knows everything about everyone around that table. Not one of them really knows her.

Then along comes Robert, and he sees right into her. He's not looking for someone to fit into his mold of HIS needs (lover, wife, maid, cook, confidant, someone to give him attention and hang on his every word). He's interested in HER. Even the parts that are inconvenient to him (her insecurity in the kitchen the morning after they slept with each other, where she asked him if she was just another conquest).

Have you ever felt one instant, where you felt like someone actually SAW you? It's amazing, isn't it? Up unitl that second, you never knew anything was missing. After that moment, you'd give everything and every day of your life just to feel that again.

I've had a few of those fleeting moments, and they have kept me going. Once, when I was 16 with my first love K, again at age 22 in EMT school with L. I've seen it in the eyes of a few friends too, my "one man support system" and former professor F, and I may have caught a glimpse of it with E. I am so blessed to have that handful of people who gave me the gift of moments. They looked at me, actually SAW me, and saw something special. One or two said it, most didn't. But you KNOW, and you never forget. It sustains you. To this day, I can still feel the surprise at the very moment when I realized another human being was actually seeing me. It's like winning the lottery without even knowing you bought a ticket.

I can certainly understand how someone can live the rest of their life drawing strength from just a moment of it. I know it's been about six or seven years since it's happened to me, and I can feel it like it was yesterday.

Francesca said in a letter to her children, "I can't imagine anything more sad than leaving this world without ever having the people you care most about truly know you." How many people do just that? And how many people are too busy thinking of themselves to look around them and really SEE the people who are giving them the love that sustains them?

What was your mother like in high school? What is your brother's plans for retirement? What makes your wife feel the most loved? What is your husband most afraid of? When is the last time you touched someone, or had someone touch you?

If you are one of the people who are lucky enough to have someone that loves you, please don't take them for granted. Take the time to really look. Don't be so wrapped up in yourself that you minimize the other person. Don't make me come all up into your bizness and bitchslap you for being shallow and egocentric.

And if you're like me and don't have someone that loves you, then just hang onto the hope that someday we will feel what Robert felt for Francesca when he said, "Certainty like this comes along only once in a lifetime."

Tick, tick, tick.

My thanks to Maru at WTF IS IT NOW? for the use of this graphic. Someone out there really knows their way around Photoshop!

Speeking of Photoshop, I hope you all have SomethingAwful bookmarked. Their Photoshop Phridays are a perfect example of why I thank God there's an internet! (Because it would be wrong to thank Him/Her for internet porn...)

Well, it's Saturday and I have no one to answer to. What the hell am I doing out of bed? Excellent question. I'm going back! :-)

"YOU WANT ZAFTIG?! YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE ZAFTIG!" (doing my best Jack Nicholson impersonation)

Marcus is someone I'd love to know in "real life". A very open, honest, and adventuresome soul. And just when I thought he couldn't be any cooler in my eyes, he posts THIS. For you lazy clickers, here's an excerpt:

Zaftig is a Yiddish word, variously translated as juicy, luscious, or ripe... As applied to a woman, it means buxom, voluptuous, bosomy, or my favorite word in the whole wide world, rubenesque. Mae West was zaftig. CG is zaftig. Delta Burke, Sally Struthers, Anna Nicole, Bette Midler, Marilyn - all zaftig... For some reason it seems the great loves of my life have all been women of generous proportions. I think to be as skinny as modern fashion requires mandates a degree of asceticism that doesn't work well with my hedonistic tastes. I love women with large appetites.

Ladies, don't you wish we could clone him?

I asked him why he didn't list me on his "world famous rubenesque rollcall." He said he wanted proof. (As if the "Beer" in "BeerMary" wouldn't be proof enough of my excesses!).

So, to prove I'm a good sport and not above humiliating myself, I dug up the most unflattering pic I've ever taken. I'm the one in the Av's jersy. This was at an Avalanche hockey game last fall at the Pepsi Center (GO AV'S!). Beside me is my dear friend Kerry, the one who just had a baby last week.

So Marcus darling, I met your challenge and gave you proof. "YOU WANT THE PROOF? YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE PROOF!" Hee, I just LOVE Jack Nicholson!

Sometimes, a lady just has to let the profanities fly!
I'm sorry, but I had so much FUN making up this insult to power-hogging CEO's in the comments section of my last article, I just had to repost it here for all to see. Behold! Marvel at my liberal use of profanities! Thanks to Meegan for giving this class clown the bit of encouragement I need to launch into even more bad behavior!
So here it is:

Sep 05 2002, 05:57 pm - from Meegan
"I don't care how caucasian they are, or how big their penises are." You crack me up! Only in America. Shiiit.

Sep 05 2002, 08:03 pm - from me
And I thought I was offended when the ballplayers decided to go on strike over 2 million a year! They deserve to make more money than those ugly, pasty-faced, protestant, caucasian, y-chromosome, golf-playing, wife-beating, secretary-fucking, republican-voting, foreign-beer-drinking, swiss-bank-account keeping, spending their kids' inheritance selfish bastard CEO motherfuckers.

Um.... what was I saying? :-)


Sep 05 2002, 08:14 pm - from me again

... I thought of more....

"toupee-wearin, viagra-poppin, degree-buyin, riding-on-daddie's coattails, never-having-an-opinion sychophant brown nozing schmoozing, backstabbing, grecian formula guzzling, evil-people-never-die-longevity hoggin, soulless fucktard baby boomer, pure exterior but sex pervert behind closed doors and not in a fun-kinky way either, 10% waitress tipping, mistress' plastic surgery-buyin, sexually harassing, lying, cheating, stealing, greasy, slimy, SUV drivin, immigrant-exploiting PIECE OF OVERPAID CEO EVIL HITLER NAZI FACIST SHIT!"

Omg that was so fun! That was better than sex! ... if memory serves.


Sep 06 2002, 05:20 am - from Meegan (who can summarize truth very efficiently)
you are a nut. it is official :)

Ha! I crack myself UP! Marathon insults are fun. Feel free to create your own and post them in the comments. (If it's an insult about me however, I will delete it, because I'm drunk with my own power! HAHA!)

Who deserves to make this kind of flippin' money?!

My thanks to Ampersand for writing about this in his blog. It is an issue I've been thinking about quite a bit lately, and though I feel guilty for plagarizing A's content, I think it's important enough to repeat this info here:

(From the LA Times, article written by Kathy Kristof)

CEOs Paid 70% More at Firms Under Scrutiny

The top officers of 23 major companies currently under investigation for accounting irregularities were paid 70% more than the average chief executive officer of a large U.S. company, according to a new study.

The study by the nonprofit advocacy group United for a Fair Economy is aimed at focusing more attention on the increasingly controversial practice of paying top executives with stock options that become valuable only if the company's market price rises--giving executives the incentive to inflate profits to drive up their companies' stock prices, critics say.

"The Enrons and the WorldComs were the most egregious examples of this, but we think the stock option piece [of compensation] has allowed executives to become very rich while destroying jobs, destroying shareholder value and weakening the companies."

The 23 executives scrutinized by United for a Fair Economy received an average pay package of $62 million during the three-year period from 1999 through 2001, compared with an average package of $36 million for the chief executives of 365 of the nation's largest companies, according to the study.

Mary's note: Even the HONEST ones are making $36 million over three years? What the hell do they DO ALL DAY to deserve to make that kind of money, give oral sex? I can see making like 2 or 3 million a year, but 36??? And at the same time, employees of American companies barely get 3% raises every year! In fact, I would have to work full-time for 720 YEARS to make what they make in three! And how many lives have those yahoos saved in their careers? I guarantee you I did more good in one month working as an RN than CEO's do in their whole lifetimes.

The most highly paid executive on the list, Tyco's L. Dennis Kozlowski, earned $331 million in salary and stock gains over the period, according to the study, which is due to be released today. Kozlowski has resigned and is facing charges of tax evasion.
Mary's note: OK, the dude has $331 million, which he can't possibly spend it all. And he has the nerve to try and weasel out of taxes? EVEN IF the dude paid 90% of his income to taxes, he'd still have THIRTY THREE MILLION dollars!

Qwest Communications International Inc., Enron Corp., AOL Time Warner Inc., WorldCom Inc., Halliburton Co. and Global Crossing Ltd. also ranked high on the list of companies that paid their executives handsomely but are now grappling with questions from investors and regulators regarding their reported financial results. All 23 are reported to be facing inquiries by agencies such as the Securities and Exchange Commission, the Department of Justice and the FBI.

The study focused only on companies that had market capitalizations of at least $1 billion at some point during the three-year period. Many of the companies have since filed for bankruptcy, laid off the bulk of their workers and left their investors with worthless shares.

Together, the 23 companies targeted by the study paid their CEOs $1.4 billion over the three-year period, while laying off 162,000 workers and losing some $530 billion in market capitalization, according to United for a Fair Economy.

_________________________________

I'm sorry. But these dudes can't be worth $36 million dollars a year. I don't care how caucasian they are, or how big their penises are. Brain surgeons deserve large incomes. So do schoolteachers. I can think of a million jobs that deserve really great salaries. But still, I'm thinking like $300,000 a year, not $12 MILLION! (or in the Tyco exec's case, $110 million).

How can any human being become so overwhelmed with greed that they make tens of millions of dollars a year, and still feel the need to steal more?

It's people like those CEO's that make me sorry that I no longer believe there is a hell.

And now, a word from BeerMary's mother...

Prepare yourself. I'm about to recount all the sex advice my mother gave me throughout my whole life!

Nugget-O'-Wisdom #1:

When I was 15, my mother overheard me and my friend Sandy discussing the guys we kissed over the weekend. Mother was eavesdropping (per usual), and overheard us. She busted in, completely incredulous: "I hope you girls aren't talking about FRENCH kissing! Mary, I'll have you know that I've been with your father for over twenty years, and I've never french kissed him, not once!"

We interrupt this rant to bring you another episode of... "YOU MAKE THE DYSFUNCTIONAL CHILDHOOD RETORT!"

What would you have said to my mother after that outrageous quote?

a) "Um, you have three children. You must have frenched him at least TWICE!"
b) "Is that why dad has that weird involuntary twitching?"
c) "Well mom, that was the 50's. This is the 80's, and sometimes a girl's just gotta stick her tongue down a guy's throat."
d) "No french kissing huh? I suppose then a blow job would be completely out of the question?"

(Feel free to add more comment choices... just click "rant back", below).

WHAT REALLY HAPPENED...
My friend and I laughed so hard at my mother we were crying. My mother was genuinely pissed that we were kissing boys! My actual comeback ("Is there any other way TO kiss?") went over like a big mac at a vegan convention.

It was one of those times when I knew, with 100% certainty, that my mother was flat-out lying to my face. I later asked her, "C'mon. Dad was in the military and had been engaged before he met you. You mean to tell me this man married a woman who refused to french kiss?" And she said, "Well, maybe I did french kiss him, but only as a joke..."

Marriage.... joke.... and thus, children, the nugget of truth is revealed!

We Are Tobacco's Bitch

Are you sitting back, enjoying a smoke while secure in the knowledge that "no one gets nuthin' over on ME!" Think again. We've been had, people. Again.

The following is a summary of this article in American Medical News (written by Susan J. Landers):

A review of tobacco industry documents written in the 1980s and 1990s alleged that ties between that industry and pharmaceutical companies may have led to a scaling back of the marketing of such smoking cessation products as nicotine gum and patches... Over the years, Dr. Hansen (who coordinates the AMA's Tobacco Caucus) said, physicians had said they would help promote pharmaceutical products that were designed to help patients quit smoking and had asked for a little money to help "hit the tobacco companies hard."

"But the pharmaceutical companies didn't want to be a part of the vilification of the tobacco companies. Now we know why."

Dr. Hansen said he had found it useful, when counseling patients to quit smoking, to tell them about the "false research, lying, cheating, conspiring and covering up," in which tobacco companies engaged.

That information helped to counteract tobacco companies' claims that smoking was a personal choice. Smokers were all too willing to buy into the "it's all my fault" mind-set and then become depressed and believe nothing could help them quit, he said. While there is certainly an element of personal responsibility involved in choosing to smoke, Dr. Hansen said, "if only they had understood how they had been manipulated and used all these years."

Michael Fiore, MD, professor of medicine and director of the University of Wisconsin's Center for Tobacco Research and Intervention, said he preferred to acknowledge more recent work by the pharmaceutical companies that demonstrates that the industry has been a good partner in the fight against the tobacco companies.

"I don't view anybody as equal to the tobacco industry in terms of the harm they impose upon residents of the United States and of the world," he said.

(Click here to read some case studies published in JAMA.)

I am so angry about the depths of greed and corruption that not only individuals, but whole companies and industries, are capable of. And to add insult to injury, they exist because WE allow it!

Think about it: What if Fisher Price made toys that slowly killed children over the course of years, and then instead of taking the toys off the market, tried to whitewash any health concerns? What if they just bought more advertising? Paid off that Geoffrey giraffe at Toys-R-Us to keep the toys on the shelves? Coated the toys with a substance that would cause the kids to throw temper tantrums if they didn't play with the toys every day?

Honey, the public wouldn't STAND for it! They would be burning FP execs in effigy. The public outcry would be HUGE!

"Oh, but it's none of our business. Smokers do that to themselves." Oh, really. I think we just gave a perfect example of how smokers have been manipulated over the years. And that is just the tip of the iceberg. I don't think I need to rehash how the tobacco industry supressed health documents. Why these execs aren't being tried for murder is beyond me.

And it IS our business. Look at your pay stub. I would be willing to bet that 25-33% of your salary is being withheld for taxes. Wanna see what you pay for, just so others can "enjoy" smoking?

From the CDC: MMWR - Annual Smoking-Attributable Mortality, Years of Potential Life Lost, and Economic Costs - United States, 1995 -1999 (April 12, 2002 / Vol. 51 / No. 14)

"Cigarette smoking continues to be a leading cause of death in the Unites States, and imposes substantial measurable costs to society. From 1995-1999, smoking killed over 440,000 people in the United States each year.

Each pack of cigarettes sold in the United States costs the nation an estimated $7.18 in medical care costs and lost productivity.

Estimates show that smoking caused over $150 billion in annual health-related economic losses from 1995 to 1999 including $81.9 billion in mortality-related productivity losses (average for 1995-1999) and $75.5 billion in excess medical expenditures in 1998.

The economic costs of smoking are estimated to be about $3,391 per smoker per year.

Excluding adult deaths from exposure to secondhand smoke, adult males and females lost an average of 13.2 and 14.5 years of life respectively, because they smoked.

Smoking during pregnancy resulted in an estimated 599 male infant and 408 female infant deaths annually.

Smoking-attributable neonatal expenditures were estimated at $366 million in 1996 or $704 per maternal smoker."

When 23% of Americans smoke, and I'm footing the bill, you're damn straight it's my business! And now we find out that our pharmaceutical companies minimized the marketing of smoking-cessation products for financial gain? I think I'm going to be sick.

Don't give me any crap about how all these tobacco farmers and workers will be out of work if we phase out smoking from our culture. They've known for over 25 years that smoking kills people. That's plenty of time to go to a trade school and find another profession. Don't expect me to cry for them because they were too dogdamn stupid to find another career.

I hope you're angry. I hope you're offended. I am. I guess it goes to prove one thing: You don't have to be born in another country, or hijack an airplane, to be a terrorist. Just get your MBA and go work for Phillip Morris. You'll be laughing all the way to the bank.

Armchair-Quarterbacking Parenthood -- Why? Because I Can!

Is too much self-esteem a bad thing? I'm beginning to think it is.

Have you ever had someone in your life who thinks only of themselves? Where does that come from? How do they get AWAY with it?

I think parents who raise their children in a manner that teaches them that they are the center of the universe, that every feeling and action they have is OK, that the world will change to fit their whims instead of the other way around, is raising a potential narcissist.

We have all met people like this. They seem very happy. However, I feel sorry for narcissists. The greatest joys of life often consist of getting to know others, doing things for others. Narcissists spend their time letting others get to know them. If they do something for someone else, it's just so they can brag about it or get something they want for themselves. They are missing a whole dimension by living so selfishly.

I think the problem is going to do nothing but get worse. Have you been around kids today? My friends Jennifer and Kerry are raising their kids right, and they are delightful children. But the rest of the world.. oh my God! Just go to the nearest grocery store. You need to look no farther than the nearest three year old to see the little Napoleon's that are being raised. You can tell that toddler runs the whole household.

That is because being a disciplinarian is hard work. It is much easier to give in, to bribe, to let things go. How many four and five year olds have you met that have no concept of the word "no"? What scares me is, if the kid doesn't mind during everyday situations, is that kid going to pay you one bit of mind when you scream "NO!" as the kid is stepping into the street in front of a speeding car? Your little emperor will not mind you. And you'll be minus a little emperor.

It hurts them, and society, later in life. Who wants to be around a self-centered person? This article from The Denver Post illustrates the difficulty narcissists have maintaining relationships. Here's a quote from the article:

"The self-esteem movement has a dark side that really hasn't been examined," he says. "There's evidence that even criminals have higher self-esteem than non-criminals."

Many articles have been written citing narcissism as the mitigating factors in white collar crimes (Enron), as well as horrible events such as Columbine. If you think about it, it makes sense. "I don't get enough attention, no one wants to play with me. So I'll kill everybody." "My personal wealth is more important than the life savings of thousands of people."

Raising a generation with over-inflated self-esteem may just be the worst thing for our society, and the children themselves.

A parting excerpt from the Post article (clip-n'-save!):

How do I love me?
Here are some of the warning signs of narcissism. The person:

Brags excessively.
Takes credit for successes of others.
Sees love as a game.
Talks all the time, mostly about themselves, their successes and social status.
Is often charming, outgoing, the life of the party.
Is often rude to people they deem as being beneath them.
Likes to display expensive possessions such as cars, jewelry or wads of cash.
Will do almost anything to draw attention to himself or herself.
Isn't empathetic. In other words, if you've got problems, he or she doesn't care.

- Cox News Service

Pics of my Weekend

They're not captioned or formatted yet, but click here to see the pics of my brothers and nephews that I took over the weekend. It was the maiden voyage for my Sony DSC-F707. Pics turned out great, but may have lost quite a bit in editing (since I'm not that great at photo editing programs yet).

Congratulations to Nicole at Go Fish! for winning Best New Blog for the month of August! If you haven't gone to see her blog yet, I strongly recommend it. I go at least once a day, and she always has something interesting to talk about.

For Those Who Doubted the Power of My Advice...

I just got back from Icky-ta.

Hours in drive: 8
Number of times I was pulled over by state trooper: 1
Speed clocked on radar: 86 in a 70
Number of speeding tickets: ZERO, baby!
Running total of consecutive times in a row pulled over for speeding and not getting a ticket: 9

See, the secret is a genuine love of police officers. Which I have. :-)

HOW TO GET OUT OF SPEEDING TICKETS -- A TUTORIAL

"It's pouring down rain. I see a police officer. I decide to make him get out of his warm, dry car. Officer walks up to me and says, "Do you know why I pulled you over?" I say, "Yeah, because I ran that stop sign. Know why I ran the stop sign?"
-- Drew Carey

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

Many people ask me, "Mary, what is the secret to your spectacular success in getting out of speeding tickets?" (I've gotten out of at least 20 in my life).

"Do you flirt or give them sexual favors?" (NO! Maybe when I was young and thin my cuteness got me out of a few, but honey, I gotta rely on other methods now!)

"Why don't you just slow down and not get pulled over in the first place?" (Um, NOT AN OPTION!)

In 6 out of the past 7 times I was "let off" when pulled over for speeding (fastest clocked time was 89 mph), all I did was act nice and respectful to the officer. The other time was a motorcycle cop, and they write ANYBODY, but the dude recognized my last name and was a frat brother of my brothers, so that was a lucky fluke. (He was actually pissed that he "couldn't" give me a ticket! Jerk!)

Here's what I do when I'm pulled over.

1) The minute I see the lights behind me, I put on my turn signal to let them know that I see them and I'm looking for a good place to pull over.

2) If you have tinted windows, you can make the mad dash for the seatbelt. If not, don't even try it. Cops hate it if they know you're trying to put one over on em.

3) Pull WAAAYYYYY off the road, preferably on a side street. Always worry about the safety of the officer. He/She is the one that has to stand between your car and 70 mph traffic.

4) If it's nighttime, IMMEDIATELY turn on all dome lights in the car. Cops have to worry about their safety, and this helps them survey the scene in your car for weapons, open containers, or things that shouldn't be there. Plus, it plants a subliminal message in their mind, that if you're familiar with what THEY have to be concerned about, maybe you have a cop in your own family, and you're on law enforcement's side.

5) Always turn off the radio.

6) As the cop is walking up to the car, roll your window down completely and put your hands high up on the steering wheel where they can see them.

7) I am so practiced I usually have my license and proof of insurance waiting for the officer. But if you have to fumble around a lot to find it, wait for the officer to ask for it. Strangers fumbling for things in their car makes the officer NERVOUS.

8) This is key: SMILE!!!!! Be personable and friendly. You wouldn't believe how rudely some cops are talked to. Don't expect them to be friendly back, but keep smiling and talking to them like they're your best friend.

9) Act genuinely surprised when they say how fast you were going. Don't make excuses. Apologize, and act like it's a huge revelation. "Oh no! That fast? Oh my God! No wonder why you pulled me over! I thought you were trying to get someone else, so I pulled over to get out of the way. I had no idea! I'm so sorry, Lieutenant!" (Always try to slip in a higher rank than you know they are. This makes them feel good.)

10) This is key: NEVER ASK TO BE LET OUT OF THE TICKET. The minute you do that, you've guaranteed yourself a ticket. And I have no idea why, I've just found this to be true. Just act as if you know you're going to get a ticket, but you still like and respect the officer. Shows you're a good sport. (I just don't understand the people who speed, then get mad at the officer when they get a ticket. It's the risk you take when you speed. It's not the officer's fault, why get mad at them?)

11) When the cop is standing there waiting for you to find your info, ask them if you've pulled over enough to be safe for the officer. "Lieutenant, am I over enough so you're safe?" Glance behind your shoulder as if you're concerned about the traffic the officer is exposed to. This isn't hard to fake for me, because I truly am concerned for them.

12) If it's night, keep the inside of your car lit up for the entire time. If it's day, ALWAYS keep your hands where the officer can see them.

13) When the officer tells you he's not going to give you a ticket, or gives you a warning, thank them profusely and promise to watch your speed. Include a nice parting remark to establish comaraderie, in case you get pulled over by the same officer again. I tell them that I'll be remembering them in my prayers, which is true. But you can say, "Take care of yourself now" or "be careful out there". Whatever.

14) After you drive off, don't speed again until you're out of that county.

Of course the best medicine is prevention. I'm not telling you NOT to speed. I'm saying, there are ways to decrease your chances of being pulled over.

A. Red cars get pulled over more. Believe me. It is true.

B. The cars I've had with tinted windows get pulled over more. But I'm more likely to get out of the ticket, and I think it's because the officer was hoping to find a scummy drug dealer behind the tints, not a rotund and cheerful middle ager.

C. Never be an "outlyer". Best position on a highway is a speeder in front of you and a speeder behind you.