In a word - yes.
You might be thinking I'm either some perv or loon to think that. And, you may be right.. about the perv part. But, prostitutes aren't my bag and I would never utilize one's services... even if it were legal.
I was driving to work on Friday listening to my ultra-liberal radio station, KPFK, when I heard the subject line uttered.
"Oh, yeah!" I thought. "Let's hear all the whiney women talk about how it needs to stay illegal. They're still being exploited, ya know." There's sarcasm in there somewhere.
The guest on this particular show (of which I have no clue.. I still need to get a calendar of shows from KPFK. I'm sure I'll eventually get it in the mail) was a woman named Samara O'Shea. She is a published writer who also blogs on the Huffington Post (she is part of Ariana's "blogosphere". Woopty!). Link to her blog entry.
Anyway.. She is a proponent for the legalization of prostitution. I was nearly beside myself when I heard this. And, in a car, that's bad.. unless I wanted to use the carpool lane.. as a means to stopping my car... against the divider. I was actually surprised to hear callers agreeing. Then I realizaed.. this is a progressive idea. It's not something some small-minded conservative ditto-head would support. Family values be damned!
First, let me tell you why I think it should be legal. Oh, let me say that one cannot be exploited when they put themselves in that position. For whatever reason, they chose to do it, and that's not exploitation. And to some degree, we're all exploited. We work. For money. We do things. For more money. What's the difference? That it's sex? And who's exploiting who? Are the Johns exploiting the women for sex or are the women exploiting the Johns for money? It's a fine line. And if you think it'll ruin marriages and families, those men will see prostitutes whether it's legal or not or find a mistress or do whatever.. Prostitution wasn't the problem, the relationship was. But this isn't about those concerns. I'm a big fan of tangents.
Women are going to put themselves in this position whether it's legal to do so or not. And because it's illegal, their legal protections are few. So, if a man (and we're assuming that all prostitutes are women, though there are men out there prostituting themselves. It's just that women make up the majority of sex workers) visits a prostitute, steals from her, beats her, rapes her (yes, a prostitute can be raped) and on top of that, gives her HIV, what recourse does she have? She was breaking the law in the first place. Though she could go to the cops, she probably won't out of fear and ignorance.
Legalizing prostitution would give this woman a safe place to operate. She could be tested each week for diseases. She could get counselling if she was just starting out and could be pursuaded to find another line of work. Condoms would be used all the time. Bottom line, she would be protected and safe. And, since prostitution would be legal, it would be taxed. That there is a large source of income for the State. Ahnold could balance our budget. For once.
So Samara comes on and says prostitution should be legal. Her reasoning was one I hadn't thought about. Why make something a crime when it's already morally and ethically unacceptable? Adultery isn't illegal. As is pornography. But prostitution is? I'm not saying any of these things are right or okay. But, if two are legal, why isn't the third?
And O'Shea makes another good point - if it's legalized, will flocks of women come out of the wood work to partake in becoming a commodity? I think not. No one wants to be labeled a whore. Women do it now mainly because there's no other choice. It's a neccessity to survive. Sure, there are those that put themselves through college or do it because they're nymphos.. But those are what.. 1 out of 10,000? Please.
People judge. And when that happens, one's world can go to shit rather quickly. We can lose our jobs, our homes, our lives all because we're judged by our peers. I know. I've been through it (I've blogged about my being in a relationship with a married woman. It's no secret) and I've learned my lesson. It can be worse than jail time and a fine, I'm sure.
Whether it's legal or not, people are going to judge prostitutes and those who use their services. Why waste taxpayer money trying to control it? Legalize it, tax it and morally judge it. We do that now with great efficiency on other things. And it works like a charm.
What's worse? Running the risk of being exploited? Or running the risk of being a victim of violent crime and theft? Yes, this is a choice between two evils. If I had to make that choice, I'd much rather protect the woman from becoming a statistic.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Gotta get it out..
Yeah.. so.. I hate myself. I hate who I am and I hate everything about me.
Okay. That's done. I'm over it.
Sometimes we have these minor setbacks. I wish I could generate a virtual primal scream.
I’ve come to the realization that the only thing I know is nothing. Everything I think I know is simply my perception and that means nothing in the larger scheme of things. Though it is within my right to express my opinions, I have no right to push those opinions upon others. I accept that we’re all different and that we perceive things in different ways. And that’s cool. I must keep in check my feelings of superiority and realize that no one is below or above me. We’re just... different. And unique. And that’s doublegood. Or, as a friend of mine would say, wickedrad (wicked and rad, just FYI).
I’m one with the universe. The universe isn’t one with me.
Now that’s a mantra that’s golden.
I’m having a moment, okay? Please forgive me.
Okay. That's done. I'm over it.
Sometimes we have these minor setbacks. I wish I could generate a virtual primal scream.
I’ve come to the realization that the only thing I know is nothing. Everything I think I know is simply my perception and that means nothing in the larger scheme of things. Though it is within my right to express my opinions, I have no right to push those opinions upon others. I accept that we’re all different and that we perceive things in different ways. And that’s cool. I must keep in check my feelings of superiority and realize that no one is below or above me. We’re just... different. And unique. And that’s doublegood. Or, as a friend of mine would say, wickedrad (wicked and rad, just FYI).
I’m one with the universe. The universe isn’t one with me.
Now that’s a mantra that’s golden.
I’m having a moment, okay? Please forgive me.
Gosh..
The moon was just spectacular tonight. At least at one in the morning it was. Hovering low in the night sky, half-illuminated; it was just awesome. It guided me home on the way back from Glendale, coming back from a night of great laughs. I laughed so hard I cried. I haven't laughed like that in forever. Reminiscing with old friends, one whom I haven't seen in at least 4 years. We talked about our stories working at the Happiest Place on Earth, people who we worked with, friends we haven't seen and... the stories. The ones that brought joy to our humdrum lives. The ones that brought back wonderful memories. The ones that made our hearts lift up for just an evening. The ones that we all carry so that we can tell our kids so that they can relate.
Man, the stories of me and my piercings. And who I showed them to (use your imagination) and where.. The stories of my 25th birthday party.. the stories of late night band practice and making up stupid lyrics to looped sequences. Oh my god, I laugh now when I should be sleeping.
I've been thinking lately about what an angry person I am. I am deeply angry and yet I cope with it each day. I know I can change myself through positive thought and affirmation. And each day it gets a little better. I have an ocean of anger and with a small pale, I bail. It is these stories and these get togethers that take loads away and make me realize just how much I enjoy my life and how great I have it. There are many people out there that don't have stories, let alone friends. I am thankful.
And, as I admired that moon, I thought of a friend tonight whom I haven't talked to in a great long while. While I wrestle with her memory, I still think it would be great to have a chat.
I can bet she admired the moon, too, because that's what she does. Because she's good like that.
Man, the stories of me and my piercings. And who I showed them to (use your imagination) and where.. The stories of my 25th birthday party.. the stories of late night band practice and making up stupid lyrics to looped sequences. Oh my god, I laugh now when I should be sleeping.
I've been thinking lately about what an angry person I am. I am deeply angry and yet I cope with it each day. I know I can change myself through positive thought and affirmation. And each day it gets a little better. I have an ocean of anger and with a small pale, I bail. It is these stories and these get togethers that take loads away and make me realize just how much I enjoy my life and how great I have it. There are many people out there that don't have stories, let alone friends. I am thankful.
And, as I admired that moon, I thought of a friend tonight whom I haven't talked to in a great long while. While I wrestle with her memory, I still think it would be great to have a chat.
I can bet she admired the moon, too, because that's what she does. Because she's good like that.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
I'm curious.
All this came about yesterday, talking to a friend of mine's father who is very liberal, a free-thinker and a very intelligent man. It got me to thinking about things and how I have kind of lost my way in this big bad world of things.. and listening to KPFK a lot lately has kind of helped...
When I was young, dumb and full of lofty ideals, the first Gulf "War" had started. I was fresh out of high school, finally over the idea that I wanted to join the Navy (and go to war? Fuck that!) and wanting to do something that would help others see that we were heading into my generation's Vietnam conflict (it wasn't a war either).
Fifteen years later, we're in another iteration of this stupid Iraq "war", with another "war" on terror to boot. We have a president that says we're winning both, but.. are we? And is there even an actual war on terror? Or is it something the US government concocted to get everyone on board so we wouldn't complain when they start chipping away at our civil rights and liberties? Of course, this all started with 9/11, which at the time I truly believed was a conspiracy by our own government to jump into the arena of bombing other countries. I often jump sides on this because, on one side, the evidence for conspiracy is good but, on the other side, the evidence can be shown to be skewed or can be refuted. It's hard to make a decision on that one.. so, the jury is still out.
Anyway, back from that tangent.. My point is.. I want to do something to tell my generation as well as this new generation that this is our version of the Vietnam conflict and people need to start caring and people need to start doing something. The rest of the world is looking at us with contempt and the majority of the U.S. is wondering why the fuck no one likes us.
I'll tell you why no one likes us - it's because we have a dumbfuck president running amock in the White House who is bullying the rest of the world. And now that the dollar is sliding into oblivion and the price of oil is skyrocketing, the governments of other countries aren't caring anymore that we could slap them with sanctions. Money talks, folks.. and we're becoming mute.
Yes, we're starting to crumble. And on Bush's watch to boot.
With national elections coming up, we're geared to elect a person for president. This person has to do something about the war, the price of oil, the environment, the fact that we're hated around the world and that we're going to hell in a handbasket. And the only reason why I think young people are going to vote is because it's trendy when a black man and a white woman are running to become the Commander and Chief of the United States of America and they support one of those two. And once this person is elected, do you think they're going to do anything about the aforementioned items? Not a damn thing. It will all be lipservice because why, kids? Because corporate greed takes precedence over the people's needs.
Damn it.. another tangent.
No matter how much they doctor that shit up, it's still shit. Hmm, a song by the Dead Kennedys comes to mind. KINKY SEX MAKES THE WORLD GO ‘ROUND
I've always wanted to be a bringer of change. A person that helps others realize that there is something we can do to make things better. I want to be someone who educates. I just never knew how. And I still don't. But, I'm a step closer to figuring it out. It's a lofty goal to be a revolutionary, and I could never claim such a title. But, damn it, I want to be one.
When I was young, dumb and full of lofty ideals, the first Gulf "War" had started. I was fresh out of high school, finally over the idea that I wanted to join the Navy (and go to war? Fuck that!) and wanting to do something that would help others see that we were heading into my generation's Vietnam conflict (it wasn't a war either).
Fifteen years later, we're in another iteration of this stupid Iraq "war", with another "war" on terror to boot. We have a president that says we're winning both, but.. are we? And is there even an actual war on terror? Or is it something the US government concocted to get everyone on board so we wouldn't complain when they start chipping away at our civil rights and liberties? Of course, this all started with 9/11, which at the time I truly believed was a conspiracy by our own government to jump into the arena of bombing other countries. I often jump sides on this because, on one side, the evidence for conspiracy is good but, on the other side, the evidence can be shown to be skewed or can be refuted. It's hard to make a decision on that one.. so, the jury is still out.
Anyway, back from that tangent.. My point is.. I want to do something to tell my generation as well as this new generation that this is our version of the Vietnam conflict and people need to start caring and people need to start doing something. The rest of the world is looking at us with contempt and the majority of the U.S. is wondering why the fuck no one likes us.
I'll tell you why no one likes us - it's because we have a dumbfuck president running amock in the White House who is bullying the rest of the world. And now that the dollar is sliding into oblivion and the price of oil is skyrocketing, the governments of other countries aren't caring anymore that we could slap them with sanctions. Money talks, folks.. and we're becoming mute.
Yes, we're starting to crumble. And on Bush's watch to boot.
With national elections coming up, we're geared to elect a person for president. This person has to do something about the war, the price of oil, the environment, the fact that we're hated around the world and that we're going to hell in a handbasket. And the only reason why I think young people are going to vote is because it's trendy when a black man and a white woman are running to become the Commander and Chief of the United States of America and they support one of those two. And once this person is elected, do you think they're going to do anything about the aforementioned items? Not a damn thing. It will all be lipservice because why, kids? Because corporate greed takes precedence over the people's needs.
Damn it.. another tangent.
No matter how much they doctor that shit up, it's still shit. Hmm, a song by the Dead Kennedys comes to mind. KINKY SEX MAKES THE WORLD GO ‘ROUND
I've always wanted to be a bringer of change. A person that helps others realize that there is something we can do to make things better. I want to be someone who educates. I just never knew how. And I still don't. But, I'm a step closer to figuring it out. It's a lofty goal to be a revolutionary, and I could never claim such a title. But, damn it, I want to be one.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Finally.
It's the end of one pretty shitty week, let me tell ya. I don't think it could get any worse, even if one shoved a stick up my ass and threw me down a flight of steps (though that would be pretty shitty, too).
Having to work for and with stupid people can get rather tedious. But, when they start getting on your wit's end, that can end in disaster. Chalk it up to one dumbfuck manager in the office to do just that. It almost ended in a screaming match when I told another manager how pissed off this tard was making me.
I hate it when mediocre people question my abilities. I hate it even more when they treat me like an imbecile and ask others for advice as if I did nothing to help them. And not even the sweet victory of an "I told you so" moment could make me feel better. See, I was right. Nothing could be done in terms of what this particular manager wanted me to do. I spent a good five fucking hours trying to do what this guy wanted to no avail because he just couldn't see that what he wanted was impossible. And then, in the process, pisses me the fuck off. And after he asked two other people for their help, they came to the same conclusion I did. It took an hour in my boss's office to pretty much calm me down. I wasn't going to sit around and say, "yeah, everything's just fine". Fuck. That. Shit.
Interestingly, I apparently pissed him off yesterday with a flippant remark I made that he totally took out of context. Whatever. He's a fucktard. Plain and simple. And now I have to make peace with him on Monday because it would behoove me to play nice and let bygones be bygones. I'll apologize for my brazen behaviour, but I won't mean it. And I can admit when I'm wrong because I sincerely apologized to another coworker after totally misunderstanding something and being flippant with him. And he truly appreciated it. It was pretty cool, actually.
And, to top this shitbird fuck of a day off, my car totally fucked me over by not going into gear right as some retard rich boy in his BMW 6 series paced me on the roadway and we gun it and I would have beaten his ass if my car didn't fail me. There are times when a race isn't warranted or justified and then there are times when they are. This was that time. People who drive Beemers who think they are the shit are fucking assholes who deserve to have their 70 thousand dollar car mocked by a Ford.
Thank goodness for the weekend, understanding co-workers who buy lunch and listen and fucking absinthe because, shit.. I needed them.
If you can't tell, yes, I'm angry. Very.
Having to work for and with stupid people can get rather tedious. But, when they start getting on your wit's end, that can end in disaster. Chalk it up to one dumbfuck manager in the office to do just that. It almost ended in a screaming match when I told another manager how pissed off this tard was making me.
I hate it when mediocre people question my abilities. I hate it even more when they treat me like an imbecile and ask others for advice as if I did nothing to help them. And not even the sweet victory of an "I told you so" moment could make me feel better. See, I was right. Nothing could be done in terms of what this particular manager wanted me to do. I spent a good five fucking hours trying to do what this guy wanted to no avail because he just couldn't see that what he wanted was impossible. And then, in the process, pisses me the fuck off. And after he asked two other people for their help, they came to the same conclusion I did. It took an hour in my boss's office to pretty much calm me down. I wasn't going to sit around and say, "yeah, everything's just fine". Fuck. That. Shit.
Interestingly, I apparently pissed him off yesterday with a flippant remark I made that he totally took out of context. Whatever. He's a fucktard. Plain and simple. And now I have to make peace with him on Monday because it would behoove me to play nice and let bygones be bygones. I'll apologize for my brazen behaviour, but I won't mean it. And I can admit when I'm wrong because I sincerely apologized to another coworker after totally misunderstanding something and being flippant with him. And he truly appreciated it. It was pretty cool, actually.
And, to top this shitbird fuck of a day off, my car totally fucked me over by not going into gear right as some retard rich boy in his BMW 6 series paced me on the roadway and we gun it and I would have beaten his ass if my car didn't fail me. There are times when a race isn't warranted or justified and then there are times when they are. This was that time. People who drive Beemers who think they are the shit are fucking assholes who deserve to have their 70 thousand dollar car mocked by a Ford.
Thank goodness for the weekend, understanding co-workers who buy lunch and listen and fucking absinthe because, shit.. I needed them.
If you can't tell, yes, I'm angry. Very.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Kill. Me. Now.
I am seriously afraid for the future of this country. I'm deathly afraid for the future of the human species. Or, at least, in this country anyway. And since culture is often dictated by the U.S., I think it's safe to say that I'm afraid for the world.
The more I see how people are in this society, the more I want to just commit suicide. I'm appalled by the stupidity, the nonsense, the absolute attitude people have these days.
I think I need to find myself a nice little white padded cell, lock myself within it and throw away the key. I'm terribly disappointed.
So, as I'm "going down the street" (not "across it"), please step over my lifeless body as you exit your local Squat and Gobble (I thank my high school AP history teacher for that one). Or would it be your local large-box mass retailer (the one that killed all the local mom and pop's)? Either way, kill me now.
The more I see how people are in this society, the more I want to just commit suicide. I'm appalled by the stupidity, the nonsense, the absolute attitude people have these days.
I think I need to find myself a nice little white padded cell, lock myself within it and throw away the key. I'm terribly disappointed.
So, as I'm "going down the street" (not "across it"), please step over my lifeless body as you exit your local Squat and Gobble (I thank my high school AP history teacher for that one). Or would it be your local large-box mass retailer (the one that killed all the local mom and pop's)? Either way, kill me now.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Ugh!
I love my cousin and her husband. They are not only family, but they are good friends. I enjoy hanging out with them when I get the chance and I even like their children.. even though their oldest is a fucking pain in the ass sometimes. For a "gifted" child, she sure needs to act like it.
Anyway...
So, I was invited out because there was a birfday celebration to be had. My cousin just turned 37. She's much older than me (by what.. nearly 7 months?) so I had to go out to honour the elderly. Tee hee! So, her friends came by and, normally, I'm pretty social with them. But, for some reason, I just couldn't muster up the "social" part in me. I was more inclined to play with my cousin's kid's Nintendo Gameboy than talk with them. Frankly, I just can't relate to her friends. They're all a bunch of fucking retards. Just stupid, the lot of them. I'm just not into talking about surfing, childhood fears regarding snakes, stupid movies and Guinness. Normally, I wouldn't have a problem talking about these subjects but I was bored with them. They couldn't hold my interest for a millisecond.
Call me superior (I am). Call me conceited. Call me completely uninterested. I don't care. Her friends are morons and I'd rather sit in a corner entertaining myself with a piece of Spam than interact with them.
Anyway...
So, I was invited out because there was a birfday celebration to be had. My cousin just turned 37. She's much older than me (by what.. nearly 7 months?) so I had to go out to honour the elderly. Tee hee! So, her friends came by and, normally, I'm pretty social with them. But, for some reason, I just couldn't muster up the "social" part in me. I was more inclined to play with my cousin's kid's Nintendo Gameboy than talk with them. Frankly, I just can't relate to her friends. They're all a bunch of fucking retards. Just stupid, the lot of them. I'm just not into talking about surfing, childhood fears regarding snakes, stupid movies and Guinness. Normally, I wouldn't have a problem talking about these subjects but I was bored with them. They couldn't hold my interest for a millisecond.
Call me superior (I am). Call me conceited. Call me completely uninterested. I don't care. Her friends are morons and I'd rather sit in a corner entertaining myself with a piece of Spam than interact with them.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
A Journey to Stand-up..
So, when I was told last week that I would be doing my stand up routine tonight, I was instantly mortified. It had come to that moment, finally, where my workshop instructor thought I was ready to get up on stage, take that microphone and be funny.
"What could I do to get out of this??!" I asked myself. What kind of devious excuses could I come up with to disqualify myself from performing in front of other, more established comics? Nothing. Damn it! I had to do it. I had to prove to myself that I not only could get up in front of others and speak, but be funny, too.
So, as the week passed, I honed by craft. I tightened my jokes, practiced into a digital recorder, listened to myself over and over, tweaked it some more; I was getting better. As I walked into my workshop this afternoon, they were talking about me and how I was chickening out.. I came in late because of traffic, those bastards. The nervousness was seeping out of me like a soaking rag being rung out. I was fucking nervous. I went up before my class to practice my material. It was so-so. Nothing to write to mama about.
And then the open-mic night started. The music playing over the loud speakers. The MC introducing the host. The host doing her bit and then introducing the first comic. Then the next.. and the next.. until it was my turn. And I got up.
Imagine getting up in front of a crowd and speaking. That, in itself, is somewhat difficult for a lot of people. Throw in being funny and see where you get. Neuroses are born from acts like this.
I killed it! I was actually fucking funny. People laughed. And I did it. Sure, some of the things I had weren't funny but I had laughs. A lot of laughs, from what I can remember. And you know you've done good when the other comics make fun of you. It was fucking awesome.
The bug has bit me. I love it. I've done it once and now I want to do it again and again. It's not about getting fame and fortune because, frankly, that rarely happens. And I'm not conceded enough to think that it will.. though it'd be nice. I want to make others laugh and I want to have fun. And I did both. So, I now have two passions.. writing and comedy. And they go hand in hand.
Oh.. and the fat chick? Yeah, she laughed the hardest. And, you know what? She rawks. Cos she's one fucking funny woman. And she's pretty cool. Laurie's her name, by the way. I see great things for her.
"What could I do to get out of this??!" I asked myself. What kind of devious excuses could I come up with to disqualify myself from performing in front of other, more established comics? Nothing. Damn it! I had to do it. I had to prove to myself that I not only could get up in front of others and speak, but be funny, too.
So, as the week passed, I honed by craft. I tightened my jokes, practiced into a digital recorder, listened to myself over and over, tweaked it some more; I was getting better. As I walked into my workshop this afternoon, they were talking about me and how I was chickening out.. I came in late because of traffic, those bastards. The nervousness was seeping out of me like a soaking rag being rung out. I was fucking nervous. I went up before my class to practice my material. It was so-so. Nothing to write to mama about.
And then the open-mic night started. The music playing over the loud speakers. The MC introducing the host. The host doing her bit and then introducing the first comic. Then the next.. and the next.. until it was my turn. And I got up.
Imagine getting up in front of a crowd and speaking. That, in itself, is somewhat difficult for a lot of people. Throw in being funny and see where you get. Neuroses are born from acts like this.
I killed it! I was actually fucking funny. People laughed. And I did it. Sure, some of the things I had weren't funny but I had laughs. A lot of laughs, from what I can remember. And you know you've done good when the other comics make fun of you. It was fucking awesome.
The bug has bit me. I love it. I've done it once and now I want to do it again and again. It's not about getting fame and fortune because, frankly, that rarely happens. And I'm not conceded enough to think that it will.. though it'd be nice. I want to make others laugh and I want to have fun. And I did both. So, I now have two passions.. writing and comedy. And they go hand in hand.
Oh.. and the fat chick? Yeah, she laughed the hardest. And, you know what? She rawks. Cos she's one fucking funny woman. And she's pretty cool. Laurie's her name, by the way. I see great things for her.
Monday, March 10, 2008
A spirited Monday evening...
When I found out that Loquat was playing the Viper Room, I had to go. And when I heard that I could just email them to get on the guest list, I was even more stoked. So, tonight was the show and boy.. it was really sweet. They're a tight 5-piece band. The lead singer, Kylee Swensen, has such a wonderful voice and it wasn't even affected by the sore throat she said she was suffering from.
They're on their way to SXSW in Austin, TX. Lucky them. It's one music/movie/party fest I want to get to sometime in my lifetime. I think I'll make plans to go sometime in the next few years. Anyway, they're a San Francisco band who I've been into for a few years. I first heard them on one of the Soma FM online streams - I think it was the Indie stream - and I was hooked.
I bought their EP and it's rad. Hand coloured, too. Nifty. I got the green one, as it's St. Patty's Day soon.
I did see the band that played after Loquat.. not impressed. Dude.. Mr. Lead Singer, Kurt Kobain is dead. Let it go, man! And when the guitar player wears a 45 Grave t-shirt and the percussionist wears a Siouxsie shirt and their music sounds nothing like either.. you lose credibility.
I'm tired. Time for bed. It's a school night, ya know.
Random, useless fact:
Favourite Depeche Mode song: Blasphemous Rumours
Second Favourite DM song: Black Celebration
Random haiku:
The trees they take shape
The forest slowly appears
See the big picture
I smell the colors
Green, Peach, Purple and Violet
My senses heightened
Your face forgotten
The smell of citrus still burns
Some things never fade
They're on their way to SXSW in Austin, TX. Lucky them. It's one music/movie/party fest I want to get to sometime in my lifetime. I think I'll make plans to go sometime in the next few years. Anyway, they're a San Francisco band who I've been into for a few years. I first heard them on one of the Soma FM online streams - I think it was the Indie stream - and I was hooked.
I bought their EP and it's rad. Hand coloured, too. Nifty. I got the green one, as it's St. Patty's Day soon.
I did see the band that played after Loquat.. not impressed. Dude.. Mr. Lead Singer, Kurt Kobain is dead. Let it go, man! And when the guitar player wears a 45 Grave t-shirt and the percussionist wears a Siouxsie shirt and their music sounds nothing like either.. you lose credibility.
I'm tired. Time for bed. It's a school night, ya know.
Random, useless fact:
Favourite Depeche Mode song: Blasphemous Rumours
Second Favourite DM song: Black Celebration
Random haiku:
The trees they take shape
The forest slowly appears
See the big picture
I smell the colors
Green, Peach, Purple and Violet
My senses heightened
Your face forgotten
The smell of citrus still burns
Some things never fade
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Saturday, March 08, 2008
I hate my trainer.
My trainer, Sean, is a good guy. He's quiet, seems introspective, modest; maybe a bit shy. He's a good looking kid studying health, nutrition and fitness. But get him on the gym floor and all that changes.
When the workouts begin, he becomes this sado-masochistic bastard. He loves to inflict pain and loves to feel.. my pain. And since having him for a little over two months now, he's begun to step up the workouts. There's less rest in between each set, there's more weight involved. The fucking planks are over a minute! I hate him.
I'm currently writhing in pain. Seriously. I cannot sit up without uttering expletives. It's hard to type in the fetal position, I assure you. My whole upper body is burning with pain. Some people may enjoy this odd feeling, but I do not. Maybe in my younger, more rebellious days but not now.
Yes, I jest. Sean is the best. And though that rhymes, it wasn't purposeful. It would be cute or funny if it had purpose. ;-) Anyway, though the pain is awful, the results aren't. I can see the definition in my shoulders and chest peeping out. I can feel my abs begin to take shape. My legs are much stronger and of course, the fat is coming off. It's had an affect on my confidence, my personality and my outlook on life. They're all much better.
So, as I crawl about the floor today and get my bearings, I continue on... knowing that I am a better man than I was yesterday.
When the workouts begin, he becomes this sado-masochistic bastard. He loves to inflict pain and loves to feel.. my pain. And since having him for a little over two months now, he's begun to step up the workouts. There's less rest in between each set, there's more weight involved. The fucking planks are over a minute! I hate him.
I'm currently writhing in pain. Seriously. I cannot sit up without uttering expletives. It's hard to type in the fetal position, I assure you. My whole upper body is burning with pain. Some people may enjoy this odd feeling, but I do not. Maybe in my younger, more rebellious days but not now.
Yes, I jest. Sean is the best. And though that rhymes, it wasn't purposeful. It would be cute or funny if it had purpose. ;-) Anyway, though the pain is awful, the results aren't. I can see the definition in my shoulders and chest peeping out. I can feel my abs begin to take shape. My legs are much stronger and of course, the fat is coming off. It's had an affect on my confidence, my personality and my outlook on life. They're all much better.
So, as I crawl about the floor today and get my bearings, I continue on... knowing that I am a better man than I was yesterday.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Someone...
Please, enlighten me.
I only want to be enlightened.
Someone tell me a story. A joke. A new word from somewhere in the dictionary.
I've been in a terrible mood all day and I just want to be enlightened.
I only want to be enlightened.
Someone tell me a story. A joke. A new word from somewhere in the dictionary.
I've been in a terrible mood all day and I just want to be enlightened.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Happy People..
I hate happy people.
Hate 'em. There's nothing redeemable about them. They're happy, boring, stationary lumps (I think I'm being figurative to the stationary lumps part). They offer nothing of value to the rest of us who are often times miserable or just barely stable (of which I am the latter). They show their happiness off like newly engaged women who show off their two-karat diamond rings that are Princess cut. Gag me.
And that glow - where do they get that glow? One can tell a happy person a mile away. They illuminate the horizon like a tracking beacon, bringing in the supertankers on their journey to safety. They ooze the stuff, stinking up the otherwise melancholy atmosphere like a silent fart; yeah, one of those deadly ones.
Happy people often don't realize what's happening. They're happy and for a reason. I usually focus on the ones that have just fallen in love, have found that "special someone" or are so ecstatic that they're alive it's painful to witness. Delusional, I think. These happy feelings often quell over time, diminishing so slowly that the person experiencing the high doesn't realize it... until it's too late.
It's not like I've never experienced "the glow" or "the feeling". It happens to everyone once or twice in their lives. People will often gravitate to me when I'm beaconing. They'll say something like, "there's something about you that's different." or "wow, you seem so happy!" or "you just got laid, didn't you?"
I like the last one. Getting laid and being happy are two different things, but they often emit the same signal. Don't be confused. Getting laid is much more temporary a feeling. It often leads to a need to get laid more and thus squelches the glow of happiness because now you aren't getting it as much as you want and you become frustrated. That isn't part of happiness. And I'm going off on a tangent.
You're probably thinking, "Steve, you're just jealous."
You're god damned right I'm jealous! I want to be happy, too. I want to be in love, have my dreams come true, have that glow.. and fucking aye, I want to get laid! But, I'm more complicated than that and in turn make things much more complicated than they really are. But that's human nature, to make things more complicated. Nothing is as complicated as it seems. Life is not complicated at all, but we make it that way.
I'm jealous of those simple-minded folk who have a one-track mind. They've accomplished something they've set out to do because they don't know any better. They get up, go to work, come home and maybe play Halo 3 on the Xbox. That's it. End of story. And in that process, they've done what they need to do. Sometimes I think that there aren't any aspirations, goals or great accomplishments needed in that. Their dreams are narrow, simple and easy. I've come to realize that this scenario is too easy for me. And it's okay, there's nothing wrong with those people and their simple lives. I don't judge. Anymore.
I used to think I was a simple guy. I'm not. Far from it. I have things going off in so many directions, it's a mystery how I even function at all. On top of that, I've got a bag of neuroses so large, I can accommodate any loon for miles. And maybe that's my problem. I'm too complicated. I make things too complicated. I'm so wound up it's not funny anymore.
Again, off on a tangent.
Happiness is attainable. I've read the works of the Dalai Lama. I've read self-help books. I know it's possible. Even without getting laid. But it's that journey I'm more interested in, that pathway that leads to the ultimate fuck. Happiness isn't the goal, it's the bi-product of being. And until I get it, I will be jealous of those who have it and bitter to the core. And while I maintain a positivity like no other, willing things to happen in my wake, I will not be satisfied until I glow, too. Damn it!
Hate 'em. There's nothing redeemable about them. They're happy, boring, stationary lumps (I think I'm being figurative to the stationary lumps part). They offer nothing of value to the rest of us who are often times miserable or just barely stable (of which I am the latter). They show their happiness off like newly engaged women who show off their two-karat diamond rings that are Princess cut. Gag me.
And that glow - where do they get that glow? One can tell a happy person a mile away. They illuminate the horizon like a tracking beacon, bringing in the supertankers on their journey to safety. They ooze the stuff, stinking up the otherwise melancholy atmosphere like a silent fart; yeah, one of those deadly ones.
Happy people often don't realize what's happening. They're happy and for a reason. I usually focus on the ones that have just fallen in love, have found that "special someone" or are so ecstatic that they're alive it's painful to witness. Delusional, I think. These happy feelings often quell over time, diminishing so slowly that the person experiencing the high doesn't realize it... until it's too late.
It's not like I've never experienced "the glow" or "the feeling". It happens to everyone once or twice in their lives. People will often gravitate to me when I'm beaconing. They'll say something like, "there's something about you that's different." or "wow, you seem so happy!" or "you just got laid, didn't you?"
I like the last one. Getting laid and being happy are two different things, but they often emit the same signal. Don't be confused. Getting laid is much more temporary a feeling. It often leads to a need to get laid more and thus squelches the glow of happiness because now you aren't getting it as much as you want and you become frustrated. That isn't part of happiness. And I'm going off on a tangent.
You're probably thinking, "Steve, you're just jealous."
You're god damned right I'm jealous! I want to be happy, too. I want to be in love, have my dreams come true, have that glow.. and fucking aye, I want to get laid! But, I'm more complicated than that and in turn make things much more complicated than they really are. But that's human nature, to make things more complicated. Nothing is as complicated as it seems. Life is not complicated at all, but we make it that way.
I'm jealous of those simple-minded folk who have a one-track mind. They've accomplished something they've set out to do because they don't know any better. They get up, go to work, come home and maybe play Halo 3 on the Xbox. That's it. End of story. And in that process, they've done what they need to do. Sometimes I think that there aren't any aspirations, goals or great accomplishments needed in that. Their dreams are narrow, simple and easy. I've come to realize that this scenario is too easy for me. And it's okay, there's nothing wrong with those people and their simple lives. I don't judge. Anymore.
I used to think I was a simple guy. I'm not. Far from it. I have things going off in so many directions, it's a mystery how I even function at all. On top of that, I've got a bag of neuroses so large, I can accommodate any loon for miles. And maybe that's my problem. I'm too complicated. I make things too complicated. I'm so wound up it's not funny anymore.
Again, off on a tangent.
Happiness is attainable. I've read the works of the Dalai Lama. I've read self-help books. I know it's possible. Even without getting laid. But it's that journey I'm more interested in, that pathway that leads to the ultimate fuck. Happiness isn't the goal, it's the bi-product of being. And until I get it, I will be jealous of those who have it and bitter to the core. And while I maintain a positivity like no other, willing things to happen in my wake, I will not be satisfied until I glow, too. Damn it!
Are you serious??
So I posted my blog about Nader on my MySpace blog and one of my friends commented on it. He said he voted for Obama in the primaries because "they said he might be Muslim." My friend converted to Islam to marry his wife, who is Muslim. (Don't even get me started on that one)
What the fuck? They said? Who the fuck is 'they'?
First, Barack Obama is a Christian. I don't know how many times this has been clarified in the news. He IS a Christian. Don't let the name fool you.
Second, to vote for someone because you THINK he's a Muslim? What kind of bullshit reason is that? Do you support Osama Bin Laden? He's a Muslim. Or if you were a Christian, would you support Fred Phelps? He's a Christian (so he says, that fucking bullshit motherfucker).
Hmm, just because Richard Dawkins is an atheist, he'd have my vote for sure. Not. Besides, he couldn't run anyway, the Limey bastard. (I do like him, though. Smart chap)
And to think, there are people out there who have no other reason to vote for someone except that they think they relate to the candidate. This is scary. I mean, I guess your vote is your vote. Do with it what you wish. But at least learn about your candidate before you go off exercising your right.
Ok. Enough of my rant. Off to the gym.
What the fuck? They said? Who the fuck is 'they'?
First, Barack Obama is a Christian. I don't know how many times this has been clarified in the news. He IS a Christian. Don't let the name fool you.
Second, to vote for someone because you THINK he's a Muslim? What kind of bullshit reason is that? Do you support Osama Bin Laden? He's a Muslim. Or if you were a Christian, would you support Fred Phelps? He's a Christian (so he says, that fucking bullshit motherfucker).
Hmm, just because Richard Dawkins is an atheist, he'd have my vote for sure. Not. Besides, he couldn't run anyway, the Limey bastard. (I do like him, though. Smart chap)
And to think, there are people out there who have no other reason to vote for someone except that they think they relate to the candidate. This is scary. I mean, I guess your vote is your vote. Do with it what you wish. But at least learn about your candidate before you go off exercising your right.
Ok. Enough of my rant. Off to the gym.
Saturday, March 01, 2008
Progress...
So, since the 8th of January I've lost over 15 pounds. Not exactly as much as I wanted but it's better than average. With that, I've lost roughly 8 inches total around my body. If I were to stick to a strict, healthy diet I would probably lose more. But my goal is to reach my final target on the 8th of January 09. So, I'm on track. I figure I'll be at my first goal by May, which is roughly the 40 pounds I want to shed. Twenty-five more pounds to go. I'm pretty stoked.
I was listening to a local listener supported radio station this morning (KPFK 90.7 fm) and Dr. Gary Null was on. I didn't quite know who he was until I checked out his website. I've seen him on PBS many times and the guy is phenomenal. Anyway, he was talking about a supplement that got me curious so I donated to the station to get the premium, which was this supplement. It's called 'The Red Stuff' and it's basically dehydrated fruits mixed into a powder. I've been taking different supplements and this one piqued my interest. So, we'll see how this one goes. I'm looking forward to it.
On a side note, but kind of roundabout in relation, I've realized that I've wasted much of my life doing stupid things, giving in to stupid beliefs and fears and overall not living up to my potential. This has caused a lot of wasted time and effort. With the weight loss and restructure, I've come to the realization that I've got a lot of catching up to do. I think it's a test of one's self to see how far one can get after a realization like this. Certainly, those who are weak may settle and give up. I can't. I have too much potential and too much to offer. Some may think I'm somewhat successful, if one measures my achievements to the average person. I, however, think I'm an under achiever because my expectations are so much higher. My standards are high, too. I've never settled. I've never given up (I may have lulled at times, but...) and now I've got to play catch up. This is where the frustration comes because the path isn't lined and the way isn't easy.
It just makes for a better challenge, I guess.
I was listening to a local listener supported radio station this morning (KPFK 90.7 fm) and Dr. Gary Null was on. I didn't quite know who he was until I checked out his website. I've seen him on PBS many times and the guy is phenomenal. Anyway, he was talking about a supplement that got me curious so I donated to the station to get the premium, which was this supplement. It's called 'The Red Stuff' and it's basically dehydrated fruits mixed into a powder. I've been taking different supplements and this one piqued my interest. So, we'll see how this one goes. I'm looking forward to it.
On a side note, but kind of roundabout in relation, I've realized that I've wasted much of my life doing stupid things, giving in to stupid beliefs and fears and overall not living up to my potential. This has caused a lot of wasted time and effort. With the weight loss and restructure, I've come to the realization that I've got a lot of catching up to do. I think it's a test of one's self to see how far one can get after a realization like this. Certainly, those who are weak may settle and give up. I can't. I have too much potential and too much to offer. Some may think I'm somewhat successful, if one measures my achievements to the average person. I, however, think I'm an under achiever because my expectations are so much higher. My standards are high, too. I've never settled. I've never given up (I may have lulled at times, but...) and now I've got to play catch up. This is where the frustration comes because the path isn't lined and the way isn't easy.
It just makes for a better challenge, I guess.
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