Sunday, February 22, 2009
Below is a Craigslist add which my husband came across. Craigslist has lots of fun little nuggets if you're lucky enough to find them. ++++++++++++++++++++++++ To the woman that crapped in my car. We met on Craigslist so I am hoping that this post finds you. I know that it could quite possibly be the most humiliating first date that you have ever been on, but I am willing to look past that. I thought we had chemistry sitting at McFadden's sharing that basket of jalapeno poppers while drinking Guiness. I really felt like there was a connection there. I found you to be intelligent and witty and looked forward to further conversation with you. At some point in life, everyone has gambled on a fart and lost. It just happened to be on a first date in the passenger seat of my car. Please don't feel bad. The package I sent you with Pepto the next day and the note that said "First dates are always a crap shoot. Call me" was meant to be funny, not offensive. I have gambled on a fart and lost on multiple occasions. The first time I did it was very memorable. It happened when I was five and sitting on my uncle's lap. I am lactose intolerant, but love cheese. I probably win 95% of the time, but I don't think anyone wins 100% of the time. That's why they call it "gambling". I'm the last person to judge you for crapping your pants. In fact, I am impressed by your boldness. The timing on the other hand, could have been a tad bit better...like when you're not sitting on a heated leather seat... What I am trying to say is that if you want to go out again, I would be more than happy to take you someplace where we can get a meal that is high in fiber and less taxing on the digestive tract. I await your call, Tad P.S. - If you shat yourself on purpose to end the evening early.Touché. Location: Las Vegas, NV it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interestsPostingID: 1039266988
Monday, February 16, 2009
KTVB: Robie Creek Hopes for Smooth Registration Last time I checked: 1. "Hoping" for something is not actually going to manifest it (unless you are a Secret subscriber and willing to wait indefinitely. 2. The technology exists for a server to host more than one session at a freakin' time, for example when I go to Amazon.com I am never told that the server is too busy, and I don't think it's because I am the only person purchasing a book at that moment. 3. It seems to me that each year they raise the price all because of "improving registration processes"....BUT IT'S ALWAYS A CLUSTER! So basically this year I'm paying $40+ for the privilege of sitting at my computer hitting F5 for HOURS! Thanks guys.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
In the past few weeks I've come across a variety of interesting websites, for example: Ashely Madison -- helping you have extramarital affairs Daba Girls -- A blog for incredibly vapid women to vent about losing their Wall Street Sugar Daddies But none really compare to the potential of PMS Buddy. If you think that women are the target market, you'd be wrong, it's for men. You know, the ones lurking in women's bathrooms TRACKING.THEIR.MONTHLY.CYCLES. I might understand that the average male has a pretty good idea of ONE woman's cycle if he's living with a girlfriend or wife....but the site encourages you sign up and "add women to track" that's plural and really disturbing.
Friday, February 13, 2009
No matter your belief system (and we all believe in something) I believe this will touch you. ------------------------------------------------------------- A Prayer for the Nation and Our Next President, Barack Obama By The Rt. Rev. V. Gene Robinson, Episcopal Bishop of New Hampshire Opening Inaugural Event Lincoln Memorial, Washington, DC January 18, 2009 O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will…Bless us with tears – for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women from many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS. Bless us with anger – at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people. Bless us with discomfort – at the easy, simplistic "answers" we've preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth, about ourselves and the world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future. Bless us with patience – and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be "fixed" anytime soon, and the understanding that our new president is a human being, not a messiah.Bless us with humility – open to understanding that our own needs must always be balanced with those of the world. Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance – replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences, and an understanding that in our diversity, we are stronger. Bless us with compassion and generosity – remembering that every religion's God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable in the human community, whether across town or across the world. And God, we give you thanks for your child Barack, as he assumes the office of President of the United States. Give him wisdom beyond his years, and inspire him with Lincoln's reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy's ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King's dream of a nation for ALL the people. Give him a quiet heart, for our Ship of State needs a steady, calm captain in these times. Give him stirring words, for we will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead. Make him color-blind, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership, there will be neither red nor blue states, but the United States. Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims. Give him the strength to find family time and privacy, and help him remember that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters' childhoods. And please, God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our presidents, and we're asking FAR too much of this one. We know the risk he and his wife are taking for all of us, and we implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand – that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity and peace. AMEN.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Cathing up on my local news tonight I was reminded once again why I mostly avoid local news. The following is the opening sentence of an article regarding a special olympian and a bronze medal. "Analine Travis of Boise won her a bronze medal in cross country skiing Thursday at the Sun Valley Nordic Center, her parents said." For WHOM did Analine win the bronze medal? And which Statesman journalist should have his/her license to write in public revoked!? http://www.idahostatesman.com/newsupdates/story/666406.html
I recently learned that on a trip to Vegas my husband was offered a job as a car thief by a Russian mobster...meanwhile his friend Joe was getting peed on by a very drunk man. All while never missing a beat at blackjack. It's good to have job options in this economy.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Grindle came to the village when I was in my 14th summer. It was only the second time he had visited, the first being long before my mother’s memory began. The villagers could not see what was happening, although some commented on the darkening of the air around them. The animals lifted their heads, and retreated to the cool dark of the woods. I saw it all. He set up camp on the beach at the edge of our village. He started a fire, hung a pot, and pitched a tent. That is when the sadness settled on the village. The baker used warm tears to activate his yeast. Poets’ words washed away on the page. Musicians couldn’t hear their own music over all the sniffling and weeping. And my mother took to her bed with a melancholy so deep I could not touch it. I brought her sweets, cooked her favorite foods, and dressed her in her favorite colors. I suggested a swim in her beloved ocean which brought a panic to her eyes I had never before seen and one she did not understand. My grandmother held vigil in her rocking chair by the hearth, knitting a blanket of seaweed, muttering under her breath, and as distant in her thoughts, as was my mother. I began to listen. As she repeated her story over and over, I came to know what Grindle wanted. On my way, I collected dragonflies unable to fly, flowers dropping their petals too soon, fallen leaves, dried twigs, shells abandoned by their living things, and began to weave them into my grandmother’s blanket. Wrapped in my seaweed blanket of found objects I asked Grindle to tell me about my grandmother. He told me a now familiar story of a young mermaid who traded her tail for legs, and her past for her future. His true love lost to the world above the ocean. Once every 100 years he visits the village, overwhelming us with his sadness, hoping she will come back to him. Hoping she will bring their child with her. I took my grandmother’s blanket, heavy with its decorations of this world, and threw it into Grindle’s fire. Turning to see my grandfather moving toward the ocean, I ran to keep up. He dove under the water and was gone. I did not hesitate as I kicked off my shoes. The ocean was cold and pulled me into her with a strength I had not felt before. I was going home.