Christmas Time.. is here..

Happiness and cheer!

Oh, joy. Christmas. Another year and another bowl of eggnog. Ick! I have to say, they're not getting any better.

It seems Christmas came earlier this year. When did it become part of the Halloween marketing plan? I don't know, but I think there are people out there that really need the money. A Hershey Kiss under the mistletoe? Or maybe a Mars bar? Funny.

Give me a cup a cocoa and my moon-worshipping apparatuses and I think I shall be set. Little moon-shaped marshmallows would fall under that category, I'd say.

Well, Merry Christmas to all of you who have your pretty, green tree up; to those who have their stockings hung by the fire; to those who have placed their cookies and milk out for Santa.

I have...

I have:

10+ books to finish.
A half-filled bottle of Jack.. which isn't so half-filled anymore.
Approximately 3 more weeks of the semester left.
A paper to write for my Religious Studies class that's due on Monday. It's Thursday. Night.
No job.
No desire to find one.
A woman whom I've been dating that I have absolutely no feelings for.
No idea how she feels about me.
A strong desire to end our relationship.
Fear that I will hurt her.
A strong desire to go to LMU for a Masters in Philosophy.
No clue how I will get there.
A need to call someone.
A feeling it's a bad idea.
A curiosity nonetheless.

No desire to continue on in the position I'm in.
A duty to myself to do so.

Well..

Fuck.

It's so hot.. I'm delirious..

Movies are like drugs. If it's good, it will take you to a different place, give you feelings that you normally wouldn't have, direct thought processes onto different paths and give you an experience that, without it, wouldn't have probably happened. And, just like drugs, they don't last very long and they're expensive (even the mantinees these days are too high).

I saw 500 DAYS OF SUMMER today and it offered some insight into what I think are parallels to just a portion of my life. Unfortunately, movie endings rarely occur in real life. But it did reiterate what I've always believed. Fate doesn't exist. Everything is coincidence. And the universe doesn't answer requests. One thing is for sure - I loved the film.

So I was listening to some black guy talking about black youth, how they are sometimes oppressed and how they're not the cause for their misfortune, unlike what the president seemed to have indicated (rough paraphrase of what this man had alluded to). There's a revolution in order, I came to understand. A revolution. We must all rise up and change the system, because the system is broken.

We're beyond revolution. In this day and age, revolution is no longer a viable option. Not for us in this country. Not for this age. Why? I'll tell you why.

We, as a population, are too complacent, too lazy, too distracted to care. I think we, as a nation, as a people, think that just electing a black president was revolution enough. Oh what a scam that was.

Revolutions are for the tired and idealistic. Revolutions are for people who want real change but are willing to sacrifice something for it. The people of these great United States, they don't want change; they want lip service. They want to be told that everything is okay, regardless of how fucked up everything is around them. As long as they hear it's okay, they'll believe it. There was a quote I remember from a Michael Douglas film where he played the president.

People want leaders, Mr. President. And in the absence of genuine leadership they'll listen to anyone who steps up to the microphone. They want leadership. They're so thirsty for it they'll crawl through the desert toward a mirage and when they discover there's no water they'll drink the sand.

Well, we're drinking sand, people, but not because we're so desperate for leadership. We're just too stupid to realize it isn't water.

While the societal fabric breaks down around us, there is nothing filling that void. Sure, there are idealists everywhere trying but... they're trying to plug a hole in a dam made of paper.

You're probably wondering why I'm so bitter.. Jesus Christ, the cost of a unit at the local community college just went up six bucks. Six fucking dollars. That's what I'm talking about.. Complacency. And those who complain? WTF are they doing about it? Nothing. Maybe they're hoping Arnold Schwarzenagger will blow shit up in Sacramento. All I know is - I need to find out what I can do about it because it is unacceptable. It's bullshit. If it were Starbucks and they raised their prices $6 per Venti Mocha-Soy-Latte-Half Decaf with some ice you know people would start breaking shit apart. There'd be riots.

I'm done. I'm going to go drink something now, and not from Starbucks.

The first day of summer! And.. Father's Day

I wish every day was the first day of summer, where sunlight stays until 8.30p. If I were in, say, Seattle it would still be pretty bright out. That would be even better. But, I'm not, so it isn't. Oh well. Life moves on anyway, right?

So it's Father's Day today. I don't really care because, well, he's dead. Even when he was alive, I didn't really celebrate it. I wasn't close to him and, frankly, I didn't like him too much anyway; he was an asshole.

I didn't really get how much I hated him until after he passed away.

Sure, I felt bad. I even cried. I was more sad that we didn't get to know each other as well as I would have wanted. Yeah, he tried in the end but I just wasn't havin' it. Too little too late.

Anyway, it wasn't something that has affected me in any way.

So, today, I got some boxes back that were at an ex-friend's place. We were roomies once and, because of his extensive drug use and poor taste in friends, I had to move out. In one of the boxes was some letters from my mom, who, too, had passed on awhile ago.

My mother's passing devastated me. Reading some of the letters that I wrote as well as hers to me left me in tears. The memories came back, the feelings of guilt I harbored washed over me and the remorse I had had once again weakened me. My mother's passing still affects me to this day, 15 years later.

See, I was already a sensitive individual. My mother's passing made me hypersensitive, to the point where I think I need psychological help. I recently went to see the movie UP and I totally cried during the montage of the old man and his wife through the years. And, just the other day, I went to the Museum of Tolerance where I had to try, unsuccessfully, to hold back tears walking through the place.

There is a place to be sensitive. A man shouldn't be this sensitive.

Anyway, what I'm trying to get at is, my mother meant so very much to me, even if I never showed it; even when I shunned her or when I thought she was an embarrassment. I am embarrassed now by my treatment of her and I will always hold those feelings of shame. I loved my mother. No. I love my mother. And I always will. My mother's passing made me realize just how important she was to me. My father? Eh.. who cares? Not I. He was a prick.

So, for you fathers out there, be kind to your children. Understand them, be kind to them, get to know them. Don't let their mother take on your job, too, like mine lest they celebrate their mom's on this day, like I did.

Summer is upon us

Well, almost. Right now, as I look out the window and gaze up into the pre-dusk sky, I am reminded that we are in the middle of June Gloom. It's overcast, gray. Threats of rain are parroted on the news channels each night. Yet, there isn't any. What the fuck, right?

Anyway.. I move on.

Jobless, without any direction, I have so much time on my hands at the moment. I'm not really complaining. The only complaint I think I have is that there is no more FM Talk radio. I've resorted to listening to Rush Limbaugh and his craptrap yapping away on conservative bullshit. It's entertaining in a tragic, 19th century kind of way. The only thing worse than Rush is Dr. Laura, whom I will NOT listen to no matter how much I need daily entertainment. Her voice simply grates on me. Not to mention, she's a whack job.

On the dating front... it's a joke. I really must end whatever it is I have with this woman I'm seeing. I think I'm over the sex. It was par from the beginning. There's really no spice to it. It's paint-by-numbers really.. way too vanilla. And, it's the only interest we have in common, I think. Talking about her job is definitely not on my top-10 things I want to discuss on the phone. It's terrible.

She has to know that this isn't going anywhere. But, I am usually disappointed as the obvious isn't so obvious to others.

Oh well.. I need a glass of wine. And an actual book copy of The Republic. I've been reading a printout I downloaded off the internet. I can't take a stack of paper to a bar. Eh.. it wouldn't get the same reaction from the bartenders as the Communist Manifesto did anyway, but I'm sure reading Plato is impressive to somebody.

Dowd FTL

Oh, Maureen.. How could you plagiarize.. from a blog no less?

Yeah, a 'friend' did it. Bullshit.

http://tpmcafe.talkingpointsmemo.com/talk/blogs/thejoshuablog/2009/05/ny-times-maureen-dowd-plagiari.php

I recently posted about one of Dowd's Op-Eds regarding Twitter and how she hates it (let's face it, she fails at life). Maybe she hates Twitter because it's hard to plagiarize 140-character tidbits of information?? Just sayin'...

Losses

I was perusing old emails and I found the ones where you and I corresponded and how you were always intellectual and always argumentative and always direct. Using big words and showing your mental superiority, you ran circles around me when it came to stringing words together to make sentences, which made paragraphs and pages. You KNEW you were smarter than me in those moments but I tried to keep up, I tried to counter; I made the effort to show you that I could grasp what you were trying to convey or at least get something you wanted me to get.

Looking back at those precious emails I am reminded of the feelings I once had for you, the feelings I now have for you and the feelings I may have for you in the future. None are them are the same. I once loved you. Now I hate you. Maybe one day I will like you for who you were, or at least, who I thought you were because you were a fraud, a fake, an actor who played me, being someone you weren't to see how I'd react. Fuck it, it doesn't matter. Certainly not to you (which angers me the most).

You are a bitch for that. A cunt. You are fucking nothing. So smart, yet so fucking stupid. Who the fuck do you think you are for doing that? What, were you so angry at something or someone or did you think you were so superior that you thought you had to prove something? Or are human emotions simply playthings to you?

For someone who wants to live a moral and ethical life - does that mean only when it suits you? Only when it matters?

Fuck. You. And go to hell.

Whatever.

I'm now a statistic

Friday, I became another statistic.

I lost my job to a RIF, or, Reduction in Force.

That day, after I collected my stuff, said goodbye to my co-workers and was walked out of the office, I got into my car and..

Went to see Star Trek.

(I bet you thought I was going to say Disneyland, didn't you? I did go to Downtown Disney though.)

The loss of a job is terrible but this job so sucked on so many levels, I can't help it that I don't care or that it doesn't bother me. I'm better off. Yep, I am.

Poem: Life

The flip of a coin
Heads or tails
Unknown until it hits the floor
A decision of what life will be like
Each consequential rotation through the air

Heads
And life will be a gem
Sweetbreads and candy canes
Easy streets and never-ending flows of exuberance
Life will be nothing but joy

Tails
And life will know no goodness
Trashcans and green flies
A cornucopia of sorrow and poor choices
Life will be nothing

Nothing

A flip of a coin does not life make
Not exactly anyway
There are more than two sides
Two deciding factors
That lead one to the life one knows

And is it good or bad that life is multi-faceted
Multi-pathed
Multi-everything
Multi-put whatever you want here to fill in your blanks
It’s your life

A string of building blocks
That no one knows
Not even the God of the Gaps
Give but a fleeting glimpse of happenings
To come

Flip the coin
Take the chance
Heads or tails
Flip flip flip
It’s your life to live however you wish

Or is it?

Gadzooks

I think I have the flu. I know I have many of the symptoms one would find on the back of a Niquil bottle. I wish I even had the swine flu. To say I had it... wouldn't that be fabulicious?

Anyway.. on to whatever it is I was going to write..

September 1st, 2012. Kind of an arbitrary date.

It is 1094 days from today.

It is 2 years, 11 months, 28 days from today.

There are 94,521,600 seconds between now and then. 1,575,360 minutes. 26,256 hours.

This is the day I either get out of hell..

Or kill myself.

To Twitter or not to Twitter

Recently, Maureen Dowd wrote an op-ed piece in the NY Times (To Tweet or not to Tweet) about her disdain for Twitter. She went and interviewed the peeps that created the site where, in 140 characters or less, one can convey what one is doing to friends and other followers. In the piece, she called Twitter a "toy for bored celebrities and high-school girls."

Maybe she's just jealous she's didn't come up with the simple yet powerful concept. Maybe because she's just a twit?

Maybe Ms. Dowd is just too old school to understand the usefulness of Twitter, its simple and to-the-point functionality. It allows one to be succinct, direct, to the point. Superfluousness is not allowed (the word 'superfluousness' would take up most of the 140 characters alone!). It causes one to become a better writer, to force one to think and be creative.

Maybe she should get a Twitter account.

But she won't. Why? Because she thinks Twitter is for people to share their experiences of eating burgers or to post highlights of funerals and whatnot.

Nevermind that organizations such as NPR, CNN, NBC, ABC and a host of others utilize the technology of 140 characters per tweet. Maybe she doesn't get that people are in more and more of a hurry and don't have time to read her diarhea of the wordprocessor and would much better get the gist in a sentence. If she used Twitter to convey her opinion of Twitter, it would probably read something like this:

MDowd I think Twitter sux. I wouldn't be caught dead using it. Back to my long-winded columns. #twittersux

That was only 101 characters. Well under the 140 character limit and certainly right to the point of her op-ed piece. And a lot more entertaining, too.

You go, Maureen. While Twitter gets bigger and bigger and that remnance of a tree you call a newspaper becomes thinner and thinner, you'll soon be typing a paragraph on a bar napkin hoping someone picks it up off the floor to have a peek.

(This was in response to a question in my ethics class)

There are proverbial lines drawn that seem to limit one from doing what one wants because of the profession one may have. From actors to religious zealots, we see that there are limitations to what can be done personally based on what is done professionally and I think this is wrong. Why should one inhibit one's self because of a job? As long as it is legal, one should be able to do whatever one wants. Period. Should a person who works at the Coca Cola factory not drink Pepsi? Saying that this doesn't compare to, say, a person who teaches young people at university may be valid, but you should get the point. I have the right, the freedom and the ability to do with my life as I choose. I never chose to be a role model and I don't want people to expect me to be one. This philosophy teacher [who wants to have his bachelor party at a strip club] should be able to go to the strip club for his bachelor party because it does not affect his ability to teach young people Philosophy. I would have a problem with him if he taught moral or ethical standards that would send a message saying that these activities are wrong and then practiced them. Bringing up Mark Spitzer as an example isn't really valid. He fought against prostitution yet saw prostitutes for his personal pleasure. This is hypocrisy and affects his credibility. That affects his job. Who would take seriously a prosecutor going after prostitution rings when he himself uses those same services? Same goes for any other profession where one may profess one thing and do another (does anyone remember Jimmy Swaggart asking his god to forgive him for going to a strip club? He's still preaching from what I understand). If this philosophy teacher looked at the females in his class as he does the strippers in the club, that's his own business. Tell me no one here ever lusted after a man or woman, younger or older, in their life. We're human. We do these things regardless if we went to a strip club or not. And if you say you've never looked at someone in a desirable way, you're either lying or not human.

Regarding feminism: I vehemently hate feminism and feminist rhetoric. Before you judge, I am not a sexist, a misogynist or a "woman hater." I think women are perfectly capable of doing anything they wish to do. If you don't believe they are capable, look at women in history; from the likes of Sojourner Truth (Isabella Baumfree, a BLACK woman I might add. A "double-whammy," if you will), Susan B. Anthony to today with Hillary Clinton, Meg Whitman (former CEO of eBay) and (I say with irony) Gloria Alred. These women have shown that hard work and persistence will get one somewhere, regardless of one's sex. If you say women have a glass ceiling, I will laugh in your face. Society has taught us our roles in the world as men and women and now we are going through the backlash of those roles. But one cannot argue against the notion that SOME of these roles are simply how we are wired as men and women and one cannot go against that. It's that simple. Trying to equal the playing field between men and women is impossible. That's my opinion. Anyway, I don't think women are descriminated against and I think the feminists have done more harm than good in recent years. What really sets me off is the Feminist card being drawn and using words like 'commodification' (Marxism anyone?). Let me add that these women chose to be dancers. They're not being exploited, commodified, used or abused. Their choice. Their "free will." I'm sure this professor probably teaches young men as well. Does that mean it's okay to commodify them? And if he doesn't treat women as individuals, who's problem is that? His? No. It's theirs. If he were to treat women with prejudice, they can either deal with it or leave. Or, if there are policies against it, he can be reprimanded. Either way, he has no moral obligation to treat either men OR women with any type of respect. He is there to teach them philosophy. That is his job. If he doesn't do it, fire him. Also, it is not his responsibility to set a moral standard. And he does not represent the school off campus (unless he is at a function for the university). I do not represent the company I work for when I'm at home. Do you represent yours? Or is there some difference because he has to deal with younger people, as if they don't have minds of their own to think with? Feminism had its place. Now, it's simply a detriment.

Life gets stranger by the moment

Being on Facebook, it's easy to find old friends and reminisce. It's not, for me, a place to find ex-girlfriends.


Apparently, though, it's a place for them to find me. And I don't think that's cool.

So now I'm in a text-message relationship (as in - we're now talking) with a woman I dated for 2 years back in the early 90's. It's scary to know that this woman still has pictures of me and still considers me one of two guys she thinks were the 'greatest sex partners" in her life.

Fuck that shit.

This is a woman who cheated on me with my best friend. This is a woman who was emotionally cuckoo. This was a woman who's still fucking nuts in the head.

And I'm still talking to her? Holy Jesus. Let me take it all back.

I'm the one that's nucking futs.

So she's seperated from her husband. Two kids. And here she is texting me how she wants to give me a blow job. Even if it's to blow off steam on her part, it's not really something I'm into. I don't like talking dirty in real life, let alone via text message. Sidebar: And I really hate textspeak, too. D's for 'the' and N's for 'and' and all that shit. Jesus Christ, spell it out, please! Anyway, I really don't care that your marriage didn't work out. I really don't care that you may scare the guy you're sleeping with away when you tell him that you left your husband and I certainly don't care that you think I'm all that.

Why don't you focus on the original problem: you're a whore with a no attention span. If you want to fuck other guys outside your marriage, fine. But don't get me intangled into your web of deceit, your mountain of excuses and don't even think I care one iota about your situation. I don't.

Because I've been there, done that and I know it never works out in the end. And if that makes me look cold and heartless, so be it. Maybe if you were dying of some tropical disease, I might care a bit. It may even make my penis tingle. But I doubt it.

Waxing nastalgic

In class today, my instructor had off-handedly mentioned something about another professor (or was it a student, I can't remember) who was one of those "liberals". He stated this person had gone to UC Berkeley ("and you know how they are") and was now going to UC Irvine - and was a Marxist to boot.. can't trust those Marxists (his words). This, on top of the brief comments on feminism had reminded me of the last girl I dated. (Sidebar: this instructor is quickly becoming one of those few that will have a significant impact on my life)

Judy was one of those liberal Berkeley chicks (whom I now realize was probably a Marxist. They mean well, but the concept just doesn't work. Marx probably didn't take into consideration the human condition and how we're all fallable, selfish individuals. I digress.). I don't fault her for that as she was amazingly intelligent (just an amazing person, really). Snobbishly intelligent. An academic.

I hate academics. (I forgive her though)

Anyway, she made me so angry because she, in a round about way, said I wasn't smart enough to entertain her intellectually. She didn't say it like that, but I'm sure she meant it that way. And, my ego was crushed. I've come to grips with this as it wasn't me who was at fault. It was her. See above (snob. academic. hate). Well, maybe it was both of us. It could be analyzed for a good long while, really. It doesn't change the fact that she's no longer in my life. A simple fact that will be like the dull pain I'll never quite pinpoint, let alone get rid of. Again, I digress.

I wanted to acknowledge that it was because of her that I went back to school. At first to show that I wasn't stupid (really, I'm not stupid. I'm rather intelligent actually, even if I do say stupid things). But it then became more about my growing interest in philosophy that drove me. I know, to many people, philosophy is a class or two one takes on one's way to his or her major. It's like what English or Science is to me; TOTALLY boring. But philosophy, man.. it just gives me a hard on. I love it. I'm giddy about it. I look forward to my classes....

...I totally tooled this woman in my ethics class. She's a retard (had to use the word 'retard'. Because the Special Olympics wants us to stop using it as a deragatory word) and I know others will be going, 'oh snap!'. Total bitch. She attacked me first. Tangent anyone?

Let's be honest - I'm almost 40 years old. Fuck. To say that out loud scares me. But I'm still very much excited about this concept that I can become learned. I still haven't ruled out a doctorate. The idea's growing on me. Maybe one day I'll be academically capable enough to entertain Judy. Maybe not. But, it's becoming less and less important as each day passes.

So, cheers to her. My first book will be dedicated to her.

A good BJ and then....

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I CAN EAT AGAIN! YAY!

For the past month, I've been on a liquid diet. Not because I'm grossly overweight or because I broke my jaw or anything like that. Whilst on Craigslist (those fucking Nazi bitches) I saw an ad that offered money to be on this crazy diet to test whether or not capsicum extract would help bring up the metabolism. If there's anything I can appreciate, it's being given money to lose some weight.

Well, today was the last day and let me tell you -- I've never enjoyed food as much as I did today. I think I went overboard on the dessert, though. All I know is, it didn't take a lot to get me stuffed.

I noticed that I felt rather guilty eating. I guess it's because I've only known 800 calorie shakes (100 x 8 a day) for a month and changing that is changing a habit. I don't intend to eat like a fucking hog each day but today was just one of those things I needed to do in order to kind of.. well.. celebrate (okay, I cheated a few times in the last month, but those were due to the fact that, one, I didn't have anything to eat or I forgot my shakes and, two, when one exerts a lot of energy, like say.. sex, replenishing energy is of the utmost importance).

So, I'm off to rest. I am exhausted from eating and typing and.. well, getting up at 5am this morning.

Melancholy

What did I do to deserve this life?

And, where did I go wrong?

The metaphysical questions abound. But it's so much simpler than that, I presume.

I am lost, yet, I know exactly where I am. Such is a conundrum.

Just in time for Valentine's

So I've met someone. Finally, a nice woman to call upon when I need to talk or to hang out or to.. you know.. do things. We've gone on a few dates and have some things in common and she likes the sex as much as I do (not to brag because it is simply a matter of fact - my abilities are stellar).

But..

I don't think she's gotten over her last relationship yet. There is a reason for it though.. He's dead. He died rather suddenly and kind of tragically. They were engaged to be married. Now, normally, this would throw up red flags all over the place. It stinks to high rebound heaven. And yet..

I don't care.

See, I'm not looking for a serious relationship. And neither is she. I think we were both looking for the same thing: sexual gratification with the bonus of having someone to talk to, hang out with and, occasionally, to have dinner with a movie thrown in. But what's important to me the most right now is the sex.

There is an ethical question here - is it okay to be having this type of relationship with a woman who you know isn't quite emotionally free? Am I taking advantage of anything? Am I putting myself into a weird place? The answers, I do not know. Yet. I have a feeling that this will not blossom into a full relationship, though she did tell me today that she "likes" me (this is that like me, like me situation we had in high school). I guess this is where the ethical dilemma comes in - is it wrong because I don't think I'll ever "like" her?

Again, she's still getting over a relationship. I don't think she's ready to "like" another person at this time in her life. It will become one of those rebound situations. I was a rebound in my last brief relationship. That hurt me terribly. And I still often wince at the thought because I really cared about that woman (whom I still think as the "one that got away"). This time, not so much because, frankly, I need this just to get back on track for my next real relationship.

I guess that does sound bad. But, it happens. That's what life is all about. Ethical or not.

Just passin' the time

So, I'm sitting here kind of down. A friend of mine is going through a funk. So much so that he has shut everyone out and has drawn himself inward. He says he's not in a good place. How the hell does one help someone who's "not in a good place"? It pains me to see this. He is a dear friend and I wish he'd confide in me what is wrong. Sometimes, pride is a bad thing. And so is shame. But the two together often brings disastrous results. I am worried about him and I do hope he overcomes. It would sadden me greatly if something bad were to happen. I told him it's his life to do what he needs to do. I also told him that what he's doing is not the best thing to do. But, I'll be there when he finds clarity. And, we can pick up where things left off. I have faith that, someday soon, things will be back to normal.. or as close to it as possible.

So I found this ad on Craigslist last week. Let me tell you first; people on CL are fucking Nazis. They're all snobby little bitches who cannot bear to have an ad placed that doesn't fit into their rigid rules. I hope, one day, that CL fails. When it does, I will rejoice. Just as much as Walmart. Anyway, back to this ad. It was for a clinical study to test extract from sweet peppers on the metabolism of adults 30 and older. They supply the low-calorie diet and the capsules and I provide my time to test them. It's well worth the $130 they're going to pay me for it and I get to lose a shitload of weight and I don't have to spend any money eating for the next month. Of course, 800 calories a day is a little extreme. But, I'm up for it. And I'm doing well....

...when I'm not pulling my hair out or screaming at people due to absolute hunger.

Forty-three more days to go.

There is one problem. I have a date on Sunday. I hope she understands when I buy dinner that I can't eat with her. But I can drink my chocolate shake and hope her meal is good.

Oh the joy..

So it's the new year and all I have to look forward to thus far is this 3-day weekend. Yay. Then it's the Inauguration. Yay.

Whilst I wait for the swearing in of the next President of these United States of America, I shall consume.. nay! I shall enjoy having consumed this nice bottle of wine.

I'm rather disappointed as it hasn't affected me the way that I thought it would.

I'll give it some time. I can tell that there is some affect... I have to close one eye to read what I'm typing. However, I'm cognisant of what it is I'm typing.

There's a trade off there, I guess, though I'm not happy about it. My typing isn't even affected.

Damn.

Well, you shit for fucks have a nice day. I'm going to go play online poker. And have a vodka shooter. Or two.

Israel: Fuck You.

Fuck Israel. That's what I have to say.

Killer of innocents. Purveyor of rhetoric.

To say that you're the victim in this while massacring women and children is simply pathetic. Not allowing food, medicine or any other form of aid simply adds insult to injury.

You did this. Not Hamas, not Fatah, not the Palestinian people. You, Israel. You. And with the U.S.'s approval of the matter, they have carte blanche to do whatever they want, wherever they want. And there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it.

And though I'd love to visit Israel one day; to visit the sights, to bask in the sun, to party in their clubs and to drink their wine and to eat their food I will not sit here and say that what Israel is doing is even remotely right or justifiable.

We know who the superior power is. But, as the saying goes, "The bigger they are, the harder they'll fall."

Men shouldn't be bitches

Ok. So..

A friend of mine is currently not speaking with any of his close friends. And, I don't know why (well, I do. I think).

We are his friends. And he's being a complete and total drama bitch. And it's getting annoying. I've been there for him, before and after his traumatic relationship (jesus, that was a nightmare) and I will be there when he gets over this bullshit.

But, why do guys have to exhibit this behavior? We get over things. We should try not to dwell and god forbid, we shouldn't ignore it (and, thus, our friends) if it truly is a problem.

I'm prone to sensitivity issues myself but this is rediculous.

[sigh] Palm. Meet forehead.