22 November 2004
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9:57 am - Kitty City
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| 17 November 2004
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10:40 pm - The Mayan Calendar
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Over dinner hollywoodphil and I were discussing human sacrifice and Aztec culture, which concluded with the question: would it be that bad if a few people were to give their lives for the good of humanity? I give you now a new segment of this journal:
HUMAN SALSA
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Submitting oneself to the blender is the ultimate way of saying "hey guys, I love you!" First up is former All That loudmouth LORI BETH DENBERG because I am tired of telling people that she's NOT my twin sister.
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Break out the chips!
Poll #386863 Human Salsa: Week 1
Open to: All, results viewable to: AllWas this deserved? Who should be next?
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[40 comments fanning the fire]
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| 15 November 2004
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10:35 pm - Kiss me, I'm Irish
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Apparently Irish allegations that Britney Spears has enrolled at 'Perrerdine University' [sic] are utterly false. And while our Toxic Britney is not . . . shall we say . . . educated, this has not stopped her from being a poet who is not afraid to show it. Thanks to Stereogum, here is Britney's oh-so-awesome ode to our favorite gas station attendant.
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HONEYMOON POEM
A honeymoon at last, to get away from it all My assistant Fe gave me the call.
I remember it well, as she was smilin' She said it was called Turtle Island.
I packed my bags light and quick, Then grabbed my pink dress & favorite lipstick.
We hopped on a plane and took our flight I slept really well, all through the night.
As we arrive, I turn and look out the door, People are greeting us right at the shore.
A meal, a shower and some ice cream Then I threw my man down, you know what I mean!
Magical nights filled with stars Silence is golden, no running cars.
Private dinners, romantic fires Little piece of heaven, whatever your heart desires.
Friendly "hellos" and never goodbyes When you're having fun, oh, how time flies!
As we sit and prepare to make our part I thank you, Turtle Island, with all my heart!
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~ by Britney Jean Spears Federline November 10, 2004
A little bit of gold on such a chilly night. PS: visit cyns.
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[19 comments fanning the fire]
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| 14 November 2004
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5:20 pm - Avez Kule-SNOB
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Dirty Old Bastard died? I don't care. I'm more sad when I see someone's pet flattenned to death because they were exploring the freeway. I'm going to blow up the next white Emo person who talks about Dirty Old Bastard. You're not sad. Come on.
hollywoodphil and I went to see "Bridget Jones: the Edge of Reason" and it was filled with assholes. Women assholes, and nearly 80% of them had to announce their thoughts on each trailer.
Phantom of the Opera: [murmurs and buzz] "Oh that looks good"
National Treasure: "Oh that looks good"
Christmas with The Kranks: "Oh that's probably really funny"
(With the bomb dropping on what will most likely be a film far greater than the previous three) Wes Anderson's The Life Aquatic: "WHAT? that looks really bad. The trailer gave it all away"
Then the Cunt Brigade tittered and HOWLED with laughter at the trials and tribulations of Chere Bridget, only to IMMEDIATELY and simultaneously tell everyone at the credits: "Oh, I thought it would be better. It's exactly what I expected. It's not as good as the first. I'm disappointed that it wasn't really funny. I don't understand why she had to get fat for the role."
I did not KNOW every squat, obese, permed-haired woman there had a Ph.D. in Film -- I was quite surprised. Based on the noisy gum-smacking, I assumed they were just IDIOTS.
Okay: "Bridget Jones: the Edge of Reason" was not an earth-shattering tour-de-force, but CLEARLY the entire audience all MASSIVELY enjoyed the film based on the PEELS of LAUGHTER -- but each woman still had to SMASH it down. CLEARLY the plot would be predictable as the genre of romantic comedies ARE ALL sugar and predictable -- ask a CHILD and they will tell you, these films are all about "living happily ever after." It's the dream of every wart-bedecked obese pushing-40 medical supply receptionist (and thus it sells).
I had to get out fast before I heard more idiots giving their immediate flash "critique" of the piece. Call me snobbish, but watching an ungodly amount of TV and being fat does NOT make one a film critic. I have a degree in film and I wouldn't venture so far as to place the crown of "film critic" upon my head. But nothing is more irritating than having to listen to truly stupid people give even stupider opinions which are almost always just "It was good" or "I didn't like it."
Is that it? WHY was it good? WHY didn't you like it? What happened to analysis? Ozark wisdom? . . . Wives tales? Anything?
Am I snob because anyone of lesser intelligence, who is willingly under-educated, is so intolerable that I explode with anger?
I never wanted to be at this point, but I am too frustrated with trying to explain why the President is not doing a good job or why "I didn't like it" is not an in-depth or well-articulated critique or why John 3:16 is not evidence that Christianity is the only appropriate religion. . . that I can only handle the company of the mute dog and my razor-sharp boyfriend!
And even the dog smells!
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[26 comments fanning the fire]
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| 12 November 2004
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6:31 pm - BAD
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Now I feel badly. I just had a talk with Friar Stooge and Milkwagon and they were nice and supportive and genuinely concerned.
DAMMIT.
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[1 comment fanning the fire]
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6:08 am - OH! WAIT!
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At the infamously delayed dinner, Milkwagon starts yell-whispering at Friar Stooge, frowning and getting hysterical:
"We're going to run out of wipes and diapers, we're going to run of wipes and diapers and . . . and . . . and . . . and we won't have anymore."
And I interject sweetly and as restrained as possible: "GUESS WHAT GUYS! Good news!! They JUST started selling diapers at our stores. WOW! The store is just a short car ride away!"
Everyone must have held back explosive laughter and applause, because it got hauntingly quiet and all bent their heads down to nibble. I am guessing none of them had the courage to say it without NAILING her to the wall and RIPPING HER GUTS OUT and smearing them on Friar Stooge's dumb fuck face.
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[4 comments fanning the fire]
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5:58 am - Granted
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While things are very shitty, I DO have my 8 pound weight loss to comfort me as I watch everyone I know down delicious, tasty food while I suck back baked chicken and weeds.
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[5 comments fanning the fire]
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5:48 am - Revenge of the Sentient
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I was hoping that with the new arrival of Milkwagon, Friar Stooge and the jiggling/screaming flesh mound, I'd have dozens of hilarious anecdotes to dissuade us from the miracle of life. But everything is very subdued for me.
Aside from her monstrous demand to be carted down south to our house while Rob works, very few ovary curdling events have passed due to great advances in "avoidance" theory. Sure, the basic "she's unnecessarily overtaxing my family's extremely tight budget and her lump screams all the time" annoyance lingers but the first AWKWARD moment was provided by Friar Stooge, my brother.
See, God's comedy is such that an aerospace engineering degree still means Friar Stooge spent about ten minutes shaking a playpen together - and it would NOT snap into place. He was getting really angry, and four of us paddled over to help with the delinquent furniture. My mother lifts a flap and wham - directions. In four seconds, this "engineering flaw" is fixed. Then to deflect his daddy defeat -- sweating like a hogbeast, he smirks to me, creepily motioning to le bebe "SeeeeEEE? [snork snork] Can you believe I took time out my life to make that?" (that being his hair-coated, milk-suckling colostomy bag).
Even the crickets stopped chirping. It was so devastatingly embarrassing, we all had to completely ignore it in order to live. Everyone just winced and dispersed.
But not to worry, our favorite Milkwagon has been up to homicidal hijinks. At dinner last night, she made everyone wait 2 full hours! Because when they strapped the car seat into my father's car, the "seatbelt didn't tighten" and it was a 'tiny but loose." Apparently, my father's car is "too old" to hold the baby's car seat and "does not have the special adapters."
My father's car model is barely a year old, (which makes it 4 years newer than Milkwagon's eyesore). So what this REALLY meant was that a lawyer and a 38 year old woman could NOT figure out HOW to make a seat belt strap LOCK to secure le bebe.
SO EVERYONE KNOWS: JUST PULL THE SEAT BELT REALLY FAST AND HARD AND IT WILL FEED BACK INTO ITS HOLDER, LOCKING WITH A SERIES OF CLICKS AND THE PROBLEM IS SOLVED.
Regardless, instead of applying their collective mindpower, Milkwagon INSISTS that instead of figuring out the car seat, that Friar Stooge needs to drive to our house in rush hour traffic (from his far-far away job) and pick up her and le bebe and THEN go to the far-far away restaurant. We couldn't just skip out of the dinner. We have to have weekly dinners with my 91 year old Grandfather and he HAD to see the baby, or he cries about my grandma Dorothy dying (and it is really unspeakably horrible).
Other things are not going well either. ( my troubles )
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[20 comments fanning the fire]
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| 6 November 2004
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12:02 am - Whoa whoa America
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| 3 November 2004
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12:34 pm - You know what people
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| 2 November 2004
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5:18 pm - Sticker
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I got my sticker. But I didn't get to vote on the big electronic Election iPod, as they were all "broken."
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I love this Barack Obama guy. If there is ever going to be a black president in my lifetime, I think it will be him. Hope he wins the Illinois senate.
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[13 comments fanning the fire]
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3:35 am - Top Post
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I can't quit beaming.
My UCLA Graduate GPA is 3.64 despite how my UCI GPA is only 3.604. For a nitpicker like myself, this .036 jump makes my whole life seem worthwhile.
Yay!
I just asked for recommendations, so I am about to get fully SMACKED with academic rejection.
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[27 comments fanning the fire]
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| 1 November 2004
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1:40 am - The Explaination
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After calling me "Slimer," a reference to how I apparently leak and dribble Love Fluids like ectoplasm . . . (a visual is necessary):
PHILLIP MY BOYFRIEND commented to me that I only write about my vagina. (Untrue! My talents are not limited to one such awesome topic -- paralysis from corpulence fleshes out mon ouevre!)
Herr Phillip was standing behind me, so I opened up the journaling client and busted out a quick yonic entry. BY SHEER EXCESSIVE FORCE, he grabbed me, restrained me with his numb-chuck fingers and clicked/posted the vagina entry I used to MOCK him. I was going to delete it, but really? It's not like I am personally above such a startlingly juvenile tactics.
So OKAY VAGINA stands.
Perhaps I should forfeit my sophisticated avez_kuleshov for vagournal (pronounced vaah-journal)? It's a better name and after all, my journal is just a cubbyhole of special secrets too.
Tomorrow I officially start a very rigorous and Doctor supervised diet. I am required to do all sorts of crippling tasks like drink 80 oz. of water, 30 minutes of cardio, take a B-12 shot, come-in DAILY, pee on strips, let people inspect stick with my urine . . . and eat well. I have homework and workbooks to fill out. It's very pricey, but I am almost double the size I biologically should be, and that risk is more expensive.
Nanowrimo started 50 minutes ago but it's bullshit. FUCK IT. I will spend 35 DAYS writing the great american novel and it will get published.
Speaking of books: I also decided to apply to UCLA's Masters of Library and Information Sciences program, which means I have to plead for recommendations. Tell me graduate students -- what was your GRE? I have an 1180 and a 5.0 on the essay. Is it remotely possible to raise this given the computer-only doesn't-matter-how-many-you-answer-correctly-if-you-missed-the-first-ten-you-suck format? I think the minimum is 1200, but I have a 3.6 GPA from a tier 1 school. Help?
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[18 comments fanning the fire]
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| 31 October 2004
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11:53 pm - VAGINA
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| 25 October 2004
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3:26 pm - BLOODY HELL!
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Today I had to get blood drawn and the nurses couldn't find a proper blood-giver vein after 3 tries.
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My veins, unlike the rest of my thick meat-body, are delicate, thin and haughty; the supermodel of cardiovasular byways. So the nurse used a vein from my hand and after 2 minutes of searing pain (which is unusual for a hearty blood giver like myself), the vein fucking collasped! And blood started gushing and squirting out all over the place.
Gushing. Dripping! Squirting!
So add "traumatized" to my coat of what appears to be HEROIN track marks. Now, I'm just going to chill out today and eat some pumpkin pie. Maybe watch Persona and snuggle in my bed like a baby.
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[17 comments fanning the fire]
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| 24 October 2004
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9:26 pm - Pop-apocalpyse!
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2:25 am - Counter-Coult-ure
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Q: What would a Kerry administration mean?
Coulter: Quite possibly the destruction of the Republic.
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Thanks Ann! You're right, in all sense of the word: Kerry is going to destroy our Republic. For all the people left out in the dark, I'm going to reveal the wonderful things Kerry has in store for our country.
KERRY'S REAL PLAN:
First we're all going to put a tree in every room called the "hugging tree." Each day we are going to hug it. We're going strike "under god" from the pledge and put in "hug a tree." Trees are more important than people. And we are going to save them all.
Then the United States Military is going to build a giant tower to Heaven. We're going to storm past the gates and ABORT the Baby Jesus Christ right from the womb of Mother Mary. We're also going to plant trip mines all through Paradise so when other important figures in Christianity walk about, they might get blown to bits. In charge of Heaven, we'll put . . . hmmm . . . Michael Moore. We love Michael Moore.
Next, we're going to fire all security officers, fireman, police people, reservists and the entire military. We don't need National Security. We'll open our borders to all people, giving priority to known Islamic males with pilot training. We'll just give them a copy of the Constitution and a book on english, and everything will be okay.
We're going to pretend to give the upper classes a tax cut but whatever. Everyone will pay Kerrimerica (our new name by the way) 25% of their paycheck. Whether you make a dollar or a billion, we'll just take a fourth. We're getting rid of social security too. You will have health coverage, but it will be holistic hippy medicine.
Oh RELAX, it gets better: we feel really bad about Iraq, So we're going to give Saddam back his throne, and in return for his mistreatment: all our knowledge of nuclear technology. We're hoping this will inspire Saddam to spend his preserved $500 million into starting a nuclear power program. He's just an old man, he doesn't need his fortune.
We're going to let all the suspected terrorists in Cuba have a fair trial -- they don't have that right now. 11 have already "disappeared" -- like it matters! They were probably innocent. All the terrorists died in 9/11, the Afghan and Iraq invasions.
Abortions will be mandatory, there's enough people. We don't want your kids to vote Republican anyway. Actually, you're not LEGALLY allowed to vote anymore. We're the liberal left and we read the New York Times: we know everything.
While it's okay to kill babies, it's NOT OKAY to kill fully grown criminals, thus the death penalty will be reversed. Those on death row, well they seem REALLY sorry. We just hate to see them so glum. They're pardoned.
And, once children notice their genitals, we're going to give them birth control and make them practice having sex so they use their birth control correctly. This is after we teach them that God is dead and that every species on earth evolved from the same single-cell organism.
It's really unfortunate that Ann Coulter jumped the gun. This was all going to be a surprise covered in Kerry's inaugural speech.
EDIT: due to first comment recommending I commit suicide, I'd like to say that this post is probably not an accurate reflection of the Kerry Platform (FUCK! Was it too subtle?). I am apparently leftist, a democrat and voting for Kerry. I think Ann Coulter says explosively disagreeable things to mock people with her massive books sales. Also, neither Presidental candidate is going to do anything THIS extreme. In four years, we'll still be living exactly how we are now.
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[27 comments fanning the fire]
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| 21 October 2004
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3:47 pm - Christine Leg Abrahms? A-dums? Christon?
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I dropped Phil off at the airport last night so he could go visit his family for a week. He was pretty excited to leave my nagging. And I'm happy that I get a week to look through his stuff and masturbate all over it. Except my newfound moral resolve forbids me to rifle through his stuff. And to masturbate on it.
Though honestly, I'm not interested in finding out any special secrets or hidden notes on what a whore I am. I don't want to know. I like thinking I'm a sweet happy person. I like pretending that I am this fucking cute:
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In Phil's absence, Bill Clinton mass-emailed me. It was anti-climatic since he wanted money for the democrats. I'd give money to Slick Willy but it takes a village worth of food to keep up my Hottentot figure.
I also started furiously reading about our past Presidents, most of whom were murdered, in all seriousness, by overzealous doctors with unwashed hands.
Surprisingly, the fabric of the presidency is patched with all sorts of indestructable Cripples, a Drooler, a Pedophile, a Gay, a Mulatto, partial Native American . . . and oops! a POSSIBLE Canadian. That upset me. Get away Canucks. We don't want your flat vowels! We want a vessel of Christ.
And strangely, John Adams and Thomas Jefferson both died the same day, same year: July 4, 1826. Then Monroe died on July 4th, 1831. Astrologers predicted that a threesome of July 4th deaths marked a sort of divine blessing that would extend until the time of Reagan (150 years).
I decided that I want to be President. I'm not qualified, I'm not terribly educated and I'm leftist. But I figure I could do well because I am adorable and the country will like my livejournal. Also, my dead father claimed adamantly (a pun) that my family tree contains Samuel Adams, master beer maker, a cousin to John Adams. Which would make me a descendant of such precious Adams lineage, just like that American Idol beast: JAY DEE.
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It gives me the shivers to think I could be related to such horribleness. If Summer's Eve had a face, surely it would be attached to the meat-neck of JD Adams. Does it matter? I am by far the most attractive Adams progeny, and that cancels out any of my inherited defects. Even if my beauty comes from clever posing and a flattering camera flash.
Also, and this part gets petty: I sing better. And that's not a lie. Surprise accomplishments (only mentioned to shame J.D.): I sang at Carnegie Hall in 1997. And earlier, I sang at Children's Miracle Fund benefit with Marie Osmond. I've toured... TOURED the East Coast and Florida, twice, by the time I was 12.
Top THAT, JD!!!!
I've never cheaped out and been given constructive criticism from Paula Abdul!! I worked for my talents and I am smart enough to understand that shortcuts usually lead to quick splash success; nothing meaningful. I've outgrown my juvenile thirst for back-pats and the mass love fame could bring. I've shelved my musical and comedy aspirations in favor of nourishing my intellect, JAY DEE.
So back to being President: I turn 35 in year 2017, which is a very space age number that means I have to wait until the 2020 elections (ugh I could be covered in wrinkles and migrating collagen). By then, perhaps I will have contributed something to society other than a couple of well-timed self-indulgent abortions and a failed blog. And the embarrassing times when I did Cher impressions in front of the J.C. Penny's.
current mood: accomplished current music: My Little Pony -- TV Themes
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[38 comments fanning the fire]
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| 17 October 2004
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9:35 pm -
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You know, I wonder why the notorious Liberal Media attacked and smeared liberal President Clinton considering they are "leftist" and "forge information" about President Bush. Why the sudden switch, Liberal Media?
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[6 comments fanning the fire]
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5:16 pm -
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| 16 October 2004
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6:04 pm - Elite? I'm PRACTICALLY GOD.
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I just went to Diedrich's last night for their seasonal Pumpkin Creme Blended latte. It's sugary, I like it. And there were two girls at the counter: One was waify with a dyed blonde pixie hair cut -- assuredly, if one judged by looks, the most pretentious and irritating coffee shop girl of the lot -- and the other looked rather ordinary, albeit friendly.
True to type, when Phil and I ordered, the blonde pixie viciously rolls her eyes and says to the other girl "Are you going to make it, because, I'm like, doing everything to AVOID making that. UGH just PUMPKIN anything," then she looks me in the eyes and tosses me the most sinister, triumphant smile - just asserting her belief that:
[A] she is superior to chubby, pumpkin-loving target-clothed me and [B] that I am too simple-minded to even realize she was ridiculing me!!!!!!
For the sake of great seasonal drinks, I let this first indiscretion slide. I know what a bummer it is to work. I know how PEDESTRIAN it is to learn to make a seasonal drink - how terribly EXCRUCIATING it must be to add pumpkin syrup to a blended latte!
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BUT Pixie couldn't insult me JUST once. She proceeded to upbraid my drink order five more times: not-so-subtly peppering her disgust with sneers at me. All while lounging on the bar table, sighing irritatedly and letting the other girl do all the work.
All right, Pixie: you think you are superior. Fair enough. You think my drink order is stupid: I GOT IT. Couldn't wait until I left to mock me: understandable! But to assume I couldn't crack your insult-code? PLEASE, BEAST! How STUPID of you to NOT think that I, a patron of a coffee shop, am not as EQUALLY PRETENTIOUS and ELITE MINDED as you are!!
I was fairly incensed by the time I got home. So I called Didrich's and asked "Is there a blonde girl with short hair working there?" (I intitally intended to tell her that she was a no-good cunt).
And the one who answered the phone said "like behind the counter?"
"Yes, behind the counter"
Naively: "Yup. Why?"
(I was loosing my bravado) "UH -- That's ALL I WANT TO KNOW" and I slammed the phone down, realizing that my simple question was far more disturbing and creepy than (what would be to her) a random, unprovoked insult.
The following conversation is what I assumed happened next:
Phone Girl: "Um, well that's weird, like, someone just called and asked if you were here"
Pixie: [frowning] "What?" [confused] "Did they say who they were?"
Phone Girl: [shrugs] "I don't know... some woman."
Pixie: "What did you say to her?"
Phone Girl: "I.. uh.. I said you were here"
Pixie: "OH MY GOD, WHY DID YOU TELL HER I WAS HERE. It could be anyone."
Phone Girl: [horrified] "I mean.. I didn't know... I ... OMG who do you think it was?"
Pixie: "FUCK, seriously -- I don't know."
Phone Girl: "Hmm... well, it's probably just one of your friends."
Pixie: [thin laughter, gulp] "uh hahahah. Yeah, my friends would do that, they're soooo cool."
But someone as evil as Pixie doesn't have friends. And now she will be paranoid for life.
Feel free to call the Laguna Beach, California Diedrich's Coffee shop and ask for a girl with short blonde pixie hair and then hang up.
EDIT: 949-497-7660
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[56 comments fanning the fire]
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| 11 October 2004
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12:44 am - The Gap
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I'm really surprised and very, very touched by all the help people are giving me, following the devastation of the Gum Disaster '04. I didn't expect the depth of thought and kindness, but I should have. Instead of only bitching, I asked for help. And that's PRO-ACTIVITY!
Now, it should be simple to all people, but learning about health has been a contradictory and confusing process for me. My family's unhealthy bodies are probably pieced together with duct tape and pixie sticks. None of them balk at the idea of the "sugar" sandwich (which is two slices of Wonderbread, buttered and filled with granulated sugar). So you can imagine: the great health knowledge I inherited is something like giving leeches to hemophiliacs -- deadly.
The Medical profession was not helpful either. When I was five, a smug quack doctor told my mother that I had an ear infection because I was too fat for my height. And though plenty of slim children get ear infections, somehow it was my fault because my extra pounds taxed my immune system and the thin children were just special victims. The cure for my ailments, he said, was the classic and very vague: eating "right" and "exercise."
As a teen, a kindly endochronologist sat me down and told me point blank that as a Medical student, she and all her fellow M.D.s commonly slept through nutrition classes, taking them only as a way to schedule in a nap. Based on her own portly figure, she admitted she honestly was unclear about how to maintain healthy nutrition habits. She then gave me a prescription to see a fucking $100 an hour Nutritionist, to fill in the gap of her shoddy nutritional sense.
Another time, a dentist thought it would be cute to make this picture of my pre-orthodontic pasty self (and mother) with her mouth camera:
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So believe me, good health advice is shocking. Truly, I feel as though I can trust your advice better because none of you stand to profit from my good health. So really thank you.
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[6 comments fanning the fire]
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| 9 October 2004
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10:15 am - Grin and Bear It
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Am I hopeless? I have gum all over my track pants because I am fat. Here is a diagram of Gum Disaster '04.
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I ache and walk like I was freshly sodomized. And right now, I'm looking at the TrimSpa website, considering this ephedra-free miracle.
Last week, I went to the gym twice, compared to my awful summer performance of ONCE. My goal was to go 5 times a week and lose a billion pounds. But this is quickly not working. Even at the gym, I spend most of my trying to figure out the abstraction of the equipment directions. Or why there are 20 different arm machines but only ONE for my gut (down from the two of last quarter).
Am I doing this right? I have the iPod, I have the illegal Britney. I have the Nalgene water container. I have the least offensive space-ship Nikes. The gum-stained track pants. The blubber-jiggle covering sweatshirts. The lack of shame Fats need when going to a gym where the gum-wielding Thins show off. The free campus gym. A modicum of discipline.
What I need is someone experienced in gym matters to help me: HOW CAN A GYM-BUNGLER LIKE ME GET THINNER? Am I really fucking this up?
I work 20-45 minutes on the elliptical machine because my knees are like bubble wrap. Then I sit and relax on the ab machine, occationally doing some crunches with 55 lbs, while everyone gets annoyed at my time wasting. I try for 200 "crunches", but usually lose count by 83 or 84 and give up. I do the whore thigh spreader at 70lbs (inner and outer one) just to make sure I can't comfortably walk. Then I wiggle around the 5 lb. hand weights or tug on the big pull down arm bar at 50lbs, and just hold it until I think my arm feels pain. Is this even a good idea? How many times a week should I do even this much? Help help help!
Diet-wise, I know I need less carbs, leaner meats, more calories, NO SODA. And tons of water. And a vitamin. Should I add in a trimspa? The extra weight is assuredly more taxing than the effects of some drugs. Tell me people.
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[44 comments fanning the fire]
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1:25 am - Terminated
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Bush . . . Kerry . . . either way someone is going to take my money and give it to a lazy black man.
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[7 comments fanning the fire]
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| 5 October 2004
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10:23 pm - Warmance
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I never talk politics because I think everyone is an idiot and flip-flopper. Mr. Kerry could be Fidel Castro. But from my findings, I have found Mr. Bush to be a mediocre person who abused his power. And frankly, it's not because I am some pointy-headed California nut job. I'm slowly realizing how more of my ideas are Republican than Democrat.
We can all point angry fingers at the liberal media, but even with the most polite of spins -- clearly Bush rushed the US into a LAST RESORT option for flip-flopping, confusing reasons. Reasons that exaggerated the hysteria over terrorism. When the Al Qaeda and WMD search proved unsuccessful, we all visibly witnessed Mr. Bush fishing for new reasons. We also blamed British intelligence, and failed to accept mature responsibility. Alright: it's all forgivable (since we are choice-less and dissent is apparently not an "American" option).
Now despite the flailing rationalizations of war, there are ideas that I cannot forgive. There is a sect of (largely Republican) "patriotic" people who have an actual ROMANTIC vision of war. I'm assuming this modern warmance comes from weepy Civil War and World War II books and films. These people are excited by war. Aroused - alive! While they will not personally be involved in even the most beneign military scrimmage, they feel unnaturally important living in an important, hard war time, like they are taking part in an epoch. The worst of the lot are the ones who have family in the military. Then they ruthlessly squeeze sympathy, and rant wildly on a soap box about the tragedy of their lives, but deep down, they are in love with war.
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War is not romantic. It's not exciting.
These soldiers aren't chiseled seasoned heros - they are mostly minority and Southern teens -- babies, young husbands -- often from poor areas, some struggling to "break the cycle" of gang warfare and poverty. Once in Iraq, they are treated as expendable weapons. They aren't wielding a gun yelling at Iraqis "HAY RACKY, this is for all the people who disagree with me shooting you -- I am protecting their right to dissent by invading your country and slaughtering you, to save you from Saddam's slaughter." They are shooting at equally frightened teens. If they do not, some old men behind desks will court marshall and imprison them. Sometimes they accidentally are shooting each other. Some go crazy with disillusionment and shoot at kids. Some are suicidal.
 Specialist Robert Acosta describes his recurring nightmares of the night he was attacked
These soldiers will all comeback damaged. Each and every one in unfathomable ways. They are not over there singing showtunes, like South Pacific.
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People are really dying. Mothers are dropping dead from grief. The love affair should be over. I'm not excited; I'm sickened.
Logically, the Bush Administration MUST inflate the previous risk of Iraq (and their connection to terror) to make the war seem "worth" the human price. Just so we won't rise up and overthrow the despots. But deep down, even past the secret love of war, we all know this battle was not fought in good faith and we DO have an obligation to oppose it.
I support the troops by OPPPOSING the war and wanting them to live long enough to see their kids and moms.
EDIT: I removed this post because I felt it's darkness didn't fit in with the rest of my journal. But for schatze and imaheather, I brought it back plus more.
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[23 comments fanning the fire]
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