I have come to realize I will be an excellent husband due to the simple fact that I have lived with cats and only cats for the last 10 years. They have trained me and conditioned me to the point where I believe a wife will not be that big a change in my life. This realization is mainly thanks to the bagboy at Publix who, as he noticed my 20 pound box of litter, my shit ton of cans of wet food, and bag of dry, asked me how many cats I had and I sadly realized the answer was “none, but I live with two cats who at odds over me.” I think it was because I was buying myself cheap meat and the cat's food was Filet Mignon flavored. Anyway, I came to realize my time with cats has trained me to be the perfect husband.
1. I have already accepted that the house I bought for us to live in is 100% theirs and they allow me space.
2. Not giving them attention when they want it and giving them attention when they don't both ends the same way: my bloodshed.
3. Time spent watching movies or playing games is when they will seek my attention the most and go to the most extreme lengths to get it as a first option.
4. When they know they have pissed me off, they know it only takes one look to make me feel guilty for being pissed.
5. They go out of their way to piss me off.
6. No toy I buy, no matter how much they love it at first, will keep them happy longer than a day.
7. They are happiest when pampered, which gives my life peace, so pamper them.
8. Hell Knows No Furry...
9. You are not going to understand anything they say....ever.
10.You really get addicted to doing these things.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
Today in Hypocrisy
Rubio says "Every time a problem emerges, increasingly the reaction in American society is 'Well what can government do about it?'"
His solution to gay marriage?
Rubio, a lock for the GOP nomination now that Gov. Charlie Crist has decided to run as an independent, spent the day reinforcing conservative values, capped with a speech before the group that led the effort to put a gay marriage ban in the state constitution.
Source
You cannot make this stuff up folks.
His solution to gay marriage?
Rubio, a lock for the GOP nomination now that Gov. Charlie Crist has decided to run as an independent, spent the day reinforcing conservative values, capped with a speech before the group that led the effort to put a gay marriage ban in the state constitution.
Source
You cannot make this stuff up folks.
RIP Ronnie James
I remember my brother taping Heaven and Hell for me and I played that tape so many times, he had to make me a copy more than once. When Mob Rules came out, I had just had a birthday and it was the very first tape I ever bought with my own money. The following year, Live Evil became the first record I ever bought with my own money. I freaked out the day I found Long Live Rock and Roll on vinyl at Kendall Town and Country in the 80's. Basically, what I am trying to say is that Ronnie James Dio has been a large part of my musical life and he will always be remembered and loved.
RIP Ronnie. May you be the Last in Line at the Gates of Babylon. Long Live Rock and Roll!
RIP Ronnie. May you be the Last in Line at the Gates of Babylon. Long Live Rock and Roll!
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Editing Beach Writings: Part One
The moon filled the gap between the buildings entirely and the clouds parted to let it. Full to the point of bursting, it sent a ring of light out thousands of miles around itself just so it could contain itselfl. Even the stars moved to the other side of the sky in respect of the Lunar Majesty.
The beach was mine and mine alone for as far as I could see, save for the washed up corpse of an unlucky fish. Roaring waves welcomed me and this was the solitude I came here for: just me, a few scattered stars, and the Lunar Majesty watching over me.
There is a beckoning of the open ocean, the waves begging me to join them and the horizon teasing me with curiosity. I am not a nautical person by nature and I have never so much as sailed a boat, but something about the beach just looms and lures. Even the sea of random half naked sweating people on the shore during the daytime cannot diminish this perfection of night.
Perhaps it is because I was raised in the city of Miami and perhaps it is because I still live there under the nocturnal pink luminescence of city lights, but I often forget about all that is happening above and below me when there. The ground is solid and the sky is illuminated, so there is little mystery, even at night. The beach, on the other hand, especially the Gulf Beaches, have this “out on your own” feeling at night. They are so isolated from major cities, that there is actual darkness at night and stars that seem to boycott the city.
Right now, it is day and the people are out. The beach has a different vibe during the day as the children run and play on the dunes. It is an exciting and promising land full of high energy and song. Very unlike the night at the same beach. I prefer the solitude of the evening, but I do enjoy the watching of these people during the day. Helps me realize how unlike them I actually am.
It is odd to think of yourself as part of a species it is quite obvious you are not part of. I don't understand what motivates them, what inspires them, or why they do most of the things they do. The beach at night does not lend itself to these wonderments.
At night, the beach only draws your curiosity to the vast sky and the roaring seas: both hiding forms of life you may relate to better from your view. The dead fish on the shore only serves to fuel my curiosity of what lies beneath, but my allergies have never allowed me to explore below and will probably keep me from ever exploring above. The pressure would be too great, so I am left to sit, wonder, dream, and hopefully write...
“HE had the self assured confidence that drove the less secure into fits of envy fueled hate. He never bothered to consider these feelings may exist within the masses as he always deeply longed to be one of them and was not, as they felt, above them. Maybe it was because he didn't find men attractive, but he always saw himself as a disfigured freak. He looked in the mirror and looked at others of his supposed species and always noticed the difference between how they looked and he. Sure, they had common features: nose, two eyes, a mouth; but they seemed to be misaligned on his face compared to the others that were “like him.” He found beauty to be commonplace, but believed he missed out.
Perhaps he was of another species all together. Perhaps he was the alien among the normals. Perhaps beauty was rare among them and his self assured confidence as they saw it was due to the fact that, while they were what he felt were beautiful, so too was he to them. The gap he felt that prohibited him from reaching out to the masses was also felt by the masses in regards to him. To them, it was he who was beautiful beyond approach. He thought himself dumb because nobody understood him yet they felt themselves dumb for the same reason. They would see him and think “nobody that cool, that perfect could ever be stupid.” He would look at the blank faces surrounding him and think “I am not that cool or smart.”
This separation from what he thought versus what the others saw is what lead to his solitude because he felt the problem was with him. Overtime, he too hated them as much as he felt they hated him. He looked out on the masses and felt nothing. Sometimes there would be a feeling of wanting to join the herd, but that was fleeting. He was alone on a planet of twos and that was the way it was to be.
“Solitude ain't that bad once you get used to it,” he would often say. And, if you are crazy, like he was, then you always have plenty of company in your head to keep you company. Warring personalities trapped within a singular head can cause mass headaches however. This is best remedied through a strict and constant regime of medication, the more underground the better. Music seems to be the best medication, but does have lingering effect that can include, but not be limited to, the Earworm.
The Earworm is the most contagious of all ailments that afflict man. It is simple to spread, unlimited in scope, and made up of pure evil. It can infect you from something as harmless as a passing child singing a kid's tune that suddenly burrows deep within your brain and will not let go. Suddenly, you are an adult being caught singing Barney tunes and, when you have no children, this becomes hard to explain away. Soon, your friends all think you are that freak who digs Barney CD's and they begin keeping their children FAR away from you because any adult who digs Barney tunes is an adult not safe to be with kids. Why?
Any adult who digs Barney tune is either a retard who is not able to watch himself let alone kids, or is a pervert far too interested in watching kids. Either way, if you see an adult singing “I love you, you love me,” and you see no kids around...RUN!”
The beach was mine and mine alone for as far as I could see, save for the washed up corpse of an unlucky fish. Roaring waves welcomed me and this was the solitude I came here for: just me, a few scattered stars, and the Lunar Majesty watching over me.
There is a beckoning of the open ocean, the waves begging me to join them and the horizon teasing me with curiosity. I am not a nautical person by nature and I have never so much as sailed a boat, but something about the beach just looms and lures. Even the sea of random half naked sweating people on the shore during the daytime cannot diminish this perfection of night.
Perhaps it is because I was raised in the city of Miami and perhaps it is because I still live there under the nocturnal pink luminescence of city lights, but I often forget about all that is happening above and below me when there. The ground is solid and the sky is illuminated, so there is little mystery, even at night. The beach, on the other hand, especially the Gulf Beaches, have this “out on your own” feeling at night. They are so isolated from major cities, that there is actual darkness at night and stars that seem to boycott the city.
Right now, it is day and the people are out. The beach has a different vibe during the day as the children run and play on the dunes. It is an exciting and promising land full of high energy and song. Very unlike the night at the same beach. I prefer the solitude of the evening, but I do enjoy the watching of these people during the day. Helps me realize how unlike them I actually am.
It is odd to think of yourself as part of a species it is quite obvious you are not part of. I don't understand what motivates them, what inspires them, or why they do most of the things they do. The beach at night does not lend itself to these wonderments.
At night, the beach only draws your curiosity to the vast sky and the roaring seas: both hiding forms of life you may relate to better from your view. The dead fish on the shore only serves to fuel my curiosity of what lies beneath, but my allergies have never allowed me to explore below and will probably keep me from ever exploring above. The pressure would be too great, so I am left to sit, wonder, dream, and hopefully write...
“HE had the self assured confidence that drove the less secure into fits of envy fueled hate. He never bothered to consider these feelings may exist within the masses as he always deeply longed to be one of them and was not, as they felt, above them. Maybe it was because he didn't find men attractive, but he always saw himself as a disfigured freak. He looked in the mirror and looked at others of his supposed species and always noticed the difference between how they looked and he. Sure, they had common features: nose, two eyes, a mouth; but they seemed to be misaligned on his face compared to the others that were “like him.” He found beauty to be commonplace, but believed he missed out.
Perhaps he was of another species all together. Perhaps he was the alien among the normals. Perhaps beauty was rare among them and his self assured confidence as they saw it was due to the fact that, while they were what he felt were beautiful, so too was he to them. The gap he felt that prohibited him from reaching out to the masses was also felt by the masses in regards to him. To them, it was he who was beautiful beyond approach. He thought himself dumb because nobody understood him yet they felt themselves dumb for the same reason. They would see him and think “nobody that cool, that perfect could ever be stupid.” He would look at the blank faces surrounding him and think “I am not that cool or smart.”
This separation from what he thought versus what the others saw is what lead to his solitude because he felt the problem was with him. Overtime, he too hated them as much as he felt they hated him. He looked out on the masses and felt nothing. Sometimes there would be a feeling of wanting to join the herd, but that was fleeting. He was alone on a planet of twos and that was the way it was to be.
“Solitude ain't that bad once you get used to it,” he would often say. And, if you are crazy, like he was, then you always have plenty of company in your head to keep you company. Warring personalities trapped within a singular head can cause mass headaches however. This is best remedied through a strict and constant regime of medication, the more underground the better. Music seems to be the best medication, but does have lingering effect that can include, but not be limited to, the Earworm.
The Earworm is the most contagious of all ailments that afflict man. It is simple to spread, unlimited in scope, and made up of pure evil. It can infect you from something as harmless as a passing child singing a kid's tune that suddenly burrows deep within your brain and will not let go. Suddenly, you are an adult being caught singing Barney tunes and, when you have no children, this becomes hard to explain away. Soon, your friends all think you are that freak who digs Barney CD's and they begin keeping their children FAR away from you because any adult who digs Barney tunes is an adult not safe to be with kids. Why?
Any adult who digs Barney tune is either a retard who is not able to watch himself let alone kids, or is a pervert far too interested in watching kids. Either way, if you see an adult singing “I love you, you love me,” and you see no kids around...RUN!”
Friday, May 07, 2010
My Back Yard is Not Mine
Yeah, so...um...FUCK MAN! I saw a monster last night...in my own back-fucking-yard!
As many of you know, there as been quite a lot of rain off and on around these parts...actually, you may not know. There has been quite a lot of rain around these parts lately. We are not talking days of light to medium rain either, but rather seconds of full hurricane rain followed by hours of peaceful calm. The weather has been schizophrenic beyond belief. It is as if the schizophrenia of the weather has developed schizophrenia: awesome cool breezes on Monday followed by importation of Hell's atmosphere on Tuesday. Goto sleep without AC because it is cold outside only to awaken in a sweat-soaked sauna that was once your bed kind of weather. Anyway, weather like we have been having has been known to drive wildlife from the wilds into the comfy confines of suburbia, and that happened last night.
11 o'clock last night, I am happily watching my News Radio Third Season DVD set when my cats begin acting strange. Considering how strange my cats are normally, this "strange behavior" would include them huddling together, pacing by the sliding glass door, standing on hind legs, meowing non-stop to one another, and trying to open my back door. They did not hiss at each other once which told me there was a common enemy in my back yard. This is normally one of the neighborhood cats trying to claim the awesome cat-friendly tree in my backyard as theirs, a common occurrence, but not tonight. No, tonight I saw a monster.
The tree shook as it dug its way out of the thick brush surrounding the palm. I saw its head first and thought "that is a small possum" as it continued its climb, and it kept coming and coming and coming. Grey with black eyes and tiny ears and a bald tail: this was the biggest fucking rat I have ever seen in my life! It dwarfed my cats in comparison.
I stood there frozen in fear as the beast climbed out of the brush and made its way to the cement wall dividing my area from my neighbors. It stared at me and I at it; neither of us sure what we were supposed to do next and petrified of one another. The tension was broken by my neighbor taking their garbage outside which attracted this gargantuan rat to their property and allowed my legs to finally carry me back inside.
A quick and paniced search of my house soon followed for anything and any place that could help that beast get into my house. I looked in closets in dire fear of finding a hole because that would mean no sleep that night. Luckily, I found nothing, but I still have no clue what the fuck I am supposed to do now. My cats love going outside, but if that beast has laid claim to my home, what do I do?
As many of you know, there as been quite a lot of rain off and on around these parts...actually, you may not know. There has been quite a lot of rain around these parts lately. We are not talking days of light to medium rain either, but rather seconds of full hurricane rain followed by hours of peaceful calm. The weather has been schizophrenic beyond belief. It is as if the schizophrenia of the weather has developed schizophrenia: awesome cool breezes on Monday followed by importation of Hell's atmosphere on Tuesday. Goto sleep without AC because it is cold outside only to awaken in a sweat-soaked sauna that was once your bed kind of weather. Anyway, weather like we have been having has been known to drive wildlife from the wilds into the comfy confines of suburbia, and that happened last night.
11 o'clock last night, I am happily watching my News Radio Third Season DVD set when my cats begin acting strange. Considering how strange my cats are normally, this "strange behavior" would include them huddling together, pacing by the sliding glass door, standing on hind legs, meowing non-stop to one another, and trying to open my back door. They did not hiss at each other once which told me there was a common enemy in my back yard. This is normally one of the neighborhood cats trying to claim the awesome cat-friendly tree in my backyard as theirs, a common occurrence, but not tonight. No, tonight I saw a monster.
The tree shook as it dug its way out of the thick brush surrounding the palm. I saw its head first and thought "that is a small possum" as it continued its climb, and it kept coming and coming and coming. Grey with black eyes and tiny ears and a bald tail: this was the biggest fucking rat I have ever seen in my life! It dwarfed my cats in comparison.
I stood there frozen in fear as the beast climbed out of the brush and made its way to the cement wall dividing my area from my neighbors. It stared at me and I at it; neither of us sure what we were supposed to do next and petrified of one another. The tension was broken by my neighbor taking their garbage outside which attracted this gargantuan rat to their property and allowed my legs to finally carry me back inside.
A quick and paniced search of my house soon followed for anything and any place that could help that beast get into my house. I looked in closets in dire fear of finding a hole because that would mean no sleep that night. Luckily, I found nothing, but I still have no clue what the fuck I am supposed to do now. My cats love going outside, but if that beast has laid claim to my home, what do I do?
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