Keeping Dark is Hateful

Is it just me or do the butch-style lesbians always seem surly? Are they really all that pissed off? Does it suck to be them or what? Cool out dude, politeness isn't that square.

"But all I had to give was the guilt for dreaming."

I belong to the blank generation

I just saw Senator Webb, a democrat from Virginia, responding to reporters about his firearm possession at an airport somewhere in the US. He pretty much passed the buck to one of his aides, who will likely take the heat for him. This is the same senator who rallied support for the left with his critical and perfectly eloquent response to the President's State of the Union Address this year. I was so stoked on this guy's speech--it was damning yet respectful, and I was fully in his grasp. And now this. More lies, more deception. This is why I can't trust anyone in politics. It sucks. I want to have faith in the person who gets my vote but I'm leary to get behind anybody.

EAT TACOS

Texas is the reason

Karaoke last night. It was fun. Nerves weren't that much of a factor. Whiskey certainly helps. Sang background on 'happiness is a warm gun' and slayed Hoople's 'roll away the stone.'

HAVE FUN, BE RESPONSIBLE.

Oh! Sweet Nuthin'

I saw an advertisement today for "collage scholarships." Clearly, people need "collage degrees" these days more than ever. A high school diploma may be the end of the educational road for some, but it seems even that doesn't guarantee against silly spelling errors.

And former Beatle Paul McCartney just got signed to Starbucks' new music label.

So if somebody calls someone at the firm where I work and they aren't near their phone, they get paged over a loudspeaker. This is the name I heard being repeated throughout the office: Greg Hunt. The way the lady annunciated the syllables made it sound really bad. Think about that. It was bad.

Oh yeah, and I got to listen to some heated jock talk. Three dudes shouting at each other and trying to assert themselves. Interruptions, wild hand gestures and lots of back and forth type stuff. In the end, they realized that they were all trying to convince each other of the same thing, but it took about 15-20 minutes of yelling at each other (and harshing everyone within earshot) to reach that point. Sadly, it reminded me of me and my friends talking about rock music. Pointless arguing.

Ah well, such is life. Is that c'est la vie? or something?

KEEP A CLEAN NOSE, WATCH THE PLAIN CLOTHES

Leaving in Reverse

So I just read about how this dude in Canby won a contest. He beat out 5,400 other contestants from across the country to win his very own...ACE HARDWARE STORE! These contestants all went through a rigorous interview process; they had to give presentations. And the guy from Canby won a $1 million franchise in...some town in Texas. This dude now has to pick up everything and move it to Texas. The dude's roots are in Oregon, he's got family and friends, and he's peacing them all out to run a hardware store. Best of luck, hope you don't get...screwed.

The Hives had a song called 'pun intended.' LISTEN TO IT.

Your hands will turn to butter.

This is out of Time magazine in 1948. I'm stoked on it. I think I want our band to be called CIVIL LEER if not MOLERAT.

Alexander Pope, a brilliant, vindictive little hunchback who became the greatest satirical poet of his century (the 18th), usually had the last word, and usually it lasted. Vain and touchy, a brilliant, malicious destroyer of reputations, he was a critical menace to the dull and mediocre in life and literature. Also one of the ablest craftsmen of verse who ever lived, he packed more in a couplet than others could in a stanza. Unlike many modern poets, he wrote both lucidly and sharply; he intended to be understood by every intelligent reader. He died of dropsy at 56. These characteristic lines (reprinted from the Selected Works of Alexander Pope, a new volume edited by Louis Kronenberger: Modern Library; $1.25) are one of the neatest jobs of literary assassination ever done. The victim: Joseph Addison.

Peace to all such! but were there One whose fires True Genius kindles,and fair Fame inspires; Blest with each talent and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease: Should such a man, too fond to,rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne, View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes, And hate for arts that caus'd himself to rise; Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike; Alike reserv'd to blame, or to commend, A tim'rous foe, and a suspicious friend; Dreading ev'n fools, by Flatterers besieg'd, And so obliging, that he ne'er oblig'd; Like Cato, give his little Senate laws, And sit attentive to his own applause; While Wits and Templars ev'ry sentence raise, And wonder with a foolish face of praise:— Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? Who would not weep, if ATTICUS were he?

DRIVE SLOW HOMIE

Here comes the sun king

Yes, it's been a long damn time. I still don't have anything to say. I work here.