Tuesday, November 30, 2010

I Feel Pissy - Oh So Pissy

Excuse me. I must change the subject for a moment and express a very strong feeling.








Now back to our regular programming.


The Four Seasons - "Big Girls Don't Cry"

Monday, November 29, 2010

Beating a Dreaded Force

I began this blog with the intention to flog whatever was bothering me on cultural, political and personal issues. Moving around from one focus to another isn't the best way to gain a regular audience in the blogosphere. Regardless, to be true to myself, I realized I would need to write what irks me from day to day, in addition to topics that had been in my brain's slow-cooker for a while -  which meant TDFB wouldn't have a consistent focus. Good heavens! There are so many triggers for flogging floating around these days it can be daunting to choose where to begin. If I'm lucky, I can stay on a single topic for a week and then move on. "However" (a word I tend to write almost every other paragraph), irritating events dictate that I zig-zag between old and new subjects more often than not. 

When I veered into the holiday focus, I knew I would eventually return to the experiences, observations and snarky remarks concerning cyber-bullying, celebrity evisceration and OTT celebrity worship. When last treading this course, I was slinking into the jungle fever of those who worship a "certain couple" to a sickening extent. The U.S. Thanksgiving holiday provided a reprieve from the dry heaves of the journey. The plan was to continue reading the sacred sites of fantasy-laden throngs of women who expect to be invited to their idols' nuptials (in what can only be described as "Never-Never-Land") upon my return to "normal" daily life. But no. Not so. For the moment it isn't to be.

While visiting my own little forum, among several other sites, I noticed that a comment I made on this blog was  mentioned - and misinterpreted - along with another commentator casting a fairly civilized zinger my way by suggesting I am a "public hypocrite" for having written less-than-flattering comments about one particular commentator on that specific site.

Well, I thought. Let's clear up the first issue for the record, and then address the "hypocrite" accusation. I wrote a few words in response, and am now writing about it here, contemplating how to justify my own behaviour, and whether or not there is a valid justification for what I wrote and did in the past when I was part of the pack. No one's forcing me to explain myself. A much younger me would have been far from diplomatic in response. A haughty retort (if a retort occurred at all) would have been the norm. But, as the proverbial "they" say, "That was then, this is now."

What exactly do YOU consider to be "bullying"? Is there a fine line between teasing and bullying? Is a smart-ass remark bullying? Does the definition of being a "bully" mean that one or two or more people push someone around either physically and/or verbally? Is name-calling a form of "bullying"? Many think it's so. And I agree. If one calls another harmful, hurtful, denigrating names, or shoves them against a wall - or anything at all - I consider it to be bullying. Do you?

If you answered "Yes", what would you do if it happened to you? Of course, the "high road", the "evolved" solution, is to either ignore that person and carry on, leave the premises where the bully resides, or, if you are a scrappy sort, punch them in the gut and push back.

My decision in a past case of dealing with a cyber bully (following several attempts to work around them, with them, and finally, to ignore them - to no avail) was to write what was the factual truth of that person's behaviour, and, in the end, find a healthy release for my anger through humour/teasing that person in a unique creative outlet (to be revealed in another post). Was I being a "bully" for finally lashing-out and causing others to laugh by doing these things? Perhaps. Perhaps not.

It may appear on the surface that I'm simply re-writing what I've already explained about one specific cyber-bully - that I'm "obsessed." I can understand how that conclusion could be drawn - in little swirls and circles with a feather pen on parchment  - BUT, not so once again. There is a reason for this back-track. A large part of the story has a neat little happy ending for me that I eventually intend to share with glowing glee.

In the end, should I find that I too became a bully and a hypocrite in the process of reacting to a sour experience, I'll publicly take myself to task and give myself a grand old flog. Until the story is complete, I'll suspend judgment. After all, there is almost nothing I loathe more in life than hypocrisy...just like my former nemesis.

Hmmmm. This time around, do I see a new mirror with a different reflection?

Note: Please check the archives for a broader understanding of what the BLEEP I'm writing about if you're new to TDFB.

Reality Bites

Hello there. I've almost returned from the holiday stupor. No flog yesterday, as I remained in a holiday fog, hoping to stay as far away from daily routines as possible. It worked! I'm relaxed and almost ready to deal with the issues that cause my hair to stand on end. Am on my way back to the home-nest where I'm certain reality will start biting me in the grey cells once again.

Until then....

Friday, November 26, 2010

Holiday Hangover

To my American-based readers, how are y'all doing with the after-effects of our primary day of gluttony? Do you have left-overs? Has that pesky relative gone home yet? Did you hide that last bottle of wine for yourself when the debris of yesterday's hog-fest was cleaned and swept away? OR, was it a great day of relaxation, football, giggling children and sweet reunions?

If you had to fly to a destination, did anyone touch your "junk" during the walk-through "pat-down"? Did you have a chance to view the scanned in-line of your body in the process? Was it worth the flight or fright? Imagine how everyone felt when one hapless traveler, an attractive woman, was discovered to have more than sexy lingerie under that skirt. Something akin to "junk" - if you know what I mean. Ah, them menz, they know how to look so pretty when they want to, don't they?

Whether you're an American or not, chances are you have or will be on a jet or two before the year is through. Different countries have differing security techniques. What we are now doing in the ole' US of A has already been tested elsewhere, dismissed and dissed. Typical of how America is falling behind in new measures on so many issues that it's no surprise the TSA has decided to slip their latex gloves down your bosom and "accidentally" grope your breast or "junk."

Whoops. Sorry. Didn't mean to do that, sir/ma'am. These gloves can be awfully slippery at times. Heh heh.

Accidents do and will happen. I doubt that most of the security teams in the airports are jumping for joy at their new role as inadvertent molesters. C'mon, TSA. You are out of your collective mind(s). Pat down and scan more cargo, would you? Can you believe how lax cargo scanning is compared to what is now being thrust on people?

Isn't it absurd that earnest travelers are increasingly treated like cattle while packages are more often than not handled with no latex gloves, treated with far more indifference, and probably have more breathing room than the travelers above them in the cabin? No bomb-packed underwear or ignitable shoes for them. Those apparently harmless special boxes simply need a box within their box with special color-coded wires and a timer with a no-roaming fee cell connection to do their dirty duty.

Oh, but again I digress. I began asking how everyone is doing this holiday weekend. So far I'm relaxing away from the stress of the city. Only gained approx. 5 lbs. Fell asleep way too early...and I will def enjoy the leftovers. I'm also the pesky relative who hasn't gone back to my nest - yet.


Thursday, November 25, 2010

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Slip-Sliding Away

As many in the US of A prepare to get the hell out of dodge for the annual turkey-gobbling day, I'll attempt to stay on topic for at least a few more minutes before my flogs become a mere memory. Not to worry, if you will. I'm still in heat for the kill. Arrgh! 

Holy sheet! I've taken a cautious peek at "The Grotto." I may as well have bought a copy of a dusty porn novel whose author began their career as a Harlequin bodice-ripping romance novelist. Before I could go beyond a few recent comments, I was forced to retreat and buy a pair of rubber boots so that I could wade through the fluids saturating that "special place" to find one moment of sanity. I'm still trudging through the slush in an attempt to locate a kindred soul. So far no luck. It's awfully foggy in there.

Ummm, I once thought that most sexual fantasies involved ones' self with another; or straight men visualizing two women together - yet another peculiar past-time I have no care to openly question - in a way, it certainly makes more sense to me than a group of women sharing how so-and-so had to have been having that "hot jungle sex" the night before the latest PR-fueled picture showed-up on the internet in advance of a gossip rag's photo spread where the two persons-of-too-much-interest-to-some look happy or affectionate. Note the word "look" - in another frame you might see one of them wiping their mouth from the kiss, wincing after the hug, or slipping off to presumably get as far away from the other without leaving the current country they're in. Even that option has been played-out more than a dozen times over the years.

Oh, I'm showing my biased cynicism. I'm supposed to be taking a journey to "the other side" with as much of an open mind as I can muster to provide equal time and some kind of benefit of the doubt, right? It might be easier if I didn't have to wear these uncomfortable rubber boots to do so, though.

Considering that I'll soon be on my way in real life to a holiday feast, as well as a few days out of town to laugh, relax, and eat a lot of food and see films and friends, I may want to halt my internet travels to either side of the fence for a few days. Who wants to ruin their appetite watching blood and gore mingled with raging hormones of the vicariously flustered clusters in a teaming little grotto?

In the interim, TDFB will shift to a different focus far more befitting of the American Thanksgiving holiday before sliding back into the subterranean activity of message boards - "Anti's" vs "Loons."

For now, it's time to clean the palate. Uh, sort of......

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Monday, November 22, 2010

The Battle of the Indulged

Last week I flogged on one side of the fence regarding the bullying I've seen and experienced on forums and comment's pages on gossip sites. I knew I was treading on delicate ground to call out a particular group of women for what I found offensive on a personal and cultural level. After all, I did suggest there were loose planks at the bottom of some of their houses.

Despite a few unflattering responses on one site in particular where the examples of evisceration are most pronounced, no bombs that I'm aware of have been slipped into my luggage to unknowingly carry to another location where I intend to examine the other side of the issue. The problem I have in entering "the other side of the fence" in the gossip world regarding the actress, is that from what I've read thus far, these pro-actress groups of women are scarier than a black widow spider creeping into your bed at night. Unless you wake up, hysterically leap from under your sheets to somewhere 50 miles away in a nano-second, you may end up not waking-up at all from the sting.

One clever but quite crass blog whose owner slams the skeletal remains of the actress in a unique fashion, was pounced on with death threats and had to shut down her blog for several days. Hackers hacked into the blogger's personal information; locusts swarmed until police were brought in to temper the infestation. Death threats you ask? Isn't that sort of thing only aimed toward public figures or family members? Why would anyone threaten the life of a blogger who only writes snarky remarks against a celebrity on a tiny little corner of the vast interwebs? Er, probably because they're out of their minds?

It's a war out there between those who are so obsessed with their idol(s) and those who loathe them, preferring to uphold the "class-act" of another much aligned actress in the never-ending drama. Amazing. As if there isn't enough drama in the world already with planetary havoc rising up in one form or another nearly every week. Ah, but that's part of why many of us have sought diversion in the fluffy puffs of gossip-land. It's easier to wrap our brains around petty gossip about strangers than to focus on what appears to be Mother Nature in a bad mood.

(I'll flog in fairness. A majority of these women do have other interests - at least those I'm aware of from the very same sites I've bashed. However, when given an opportunity to weigh in on more substantial issues, it seems like the only thing they really care about in the bonding ritual is this completely way-getting-old "triangle" of a Hollywood "siren" - a former "golden boy" - and an "America's sweetheart.")

From one gossip site to another, more than basic "bullying" prevails between the two camps. There should be a Wii program for these gamers. They call each other "Loons" and "Anti's." The "Loons" adore one actress, the "Anti's" hate her. Anyone who disagrees with the point of another on the subjects of our focus has to be one or the other...there is no middle ground. You either win or lose or bash each other's heads in, with no one holding the flag at the top of the mountain. If one ever really wins at all, it's ephemeral. As with radical politics and religion, if you're hell-bent on staying your course, nothing will sway your belief system. You might win the battle but lose the war.

From what I've gleaned, the players involved are not teenagers. I shouldn't be surprised at this revelation when adults are now pounding the pavement in America wearing silly little hats of the Statue of Liberty's crown, crowing over how superior they are to "liberals" and anyone else who doesn't share their political views. It's all fun and games, isn't it? In politics, it's dangerous, as serious outcomes are involved that will effect one's life. In the gossip world, it's just another day to indulge in mud-slinging.

Before I gather the nerve to slip over to the other ("Loons") side of the fence to read how the other half lives on their day-after-day fawning binges, I need to change into protective gear to shield myself from what I've been told are equally vile accusations thrown against "America's Sweetheart." I thought I had a fairly good idea of what that sector thinks of her based on comments they make on the "Anti" site, but who knows what may be found at the source? I understand there is a place named "The Grotto" where these uber-fans write vicarious sexual fantasies of the "hot jungle" mating of "the most beautiful couple in the world."

Perhaps I'll take a sick bag with me on this journey.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Wet Rag-Tags

I am flogging the fact that critcisms' have been thrown my way (privately) for the visuals in Rod Stewart's previous video. At Ronni Chasen's memorial, it was a point that Ronni was on the verge of moving to Paris and expanding her life outside of Hollywood. I did not make the song's slideshow of other places of travel. It is within the heart's intent to provide an appropriate sentiment.

Now I have another side of "picky" to add to my flogging list.


A Moment Not-for-Flogging

                              Rod Stewart - "I'll Be Seeing You"

Today there were two memorials/events in Los Angeles for recently departed industry veterans. One, Monica Johnson, a brilliant comedy writer, and Ronni Chasen, acclaimed PR veteran of all things Hollywood for 40 years. Monica passed away via cancer and had an opportunity to say goodbye to those she loved. Ronni's case is still a mystery. No one had the chance to say goodbye until today. RIP to two very talented women.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Baby, it’s Cold Inside

It’s a rainy overcast Saturday in the ‘hood. All is quiet and good.

What’s to flog about? Warm and comfy am I – not. I live in an almost barn-like non-insulated home without a fireplace. Now, what fun is that on a rainy day?

Time to put on double fleece tops, ski socks and thermal underwear.

Hey, I had to post something today.


Not to be continued….

Friday, November 19, 2010

A Little "Light" Music

Duran Duran - "Hungry Like the Wolf"

The Booty of the Feast

Part III: The Jury's Sin

“If she had known that life would be like high school, she would’ve checked out a long time ago.”

The sentiment above is a line from a registered short story I wrote ten years ago; the thought and attitude of a woman who had grown cynical with a chip on her shoulder, realizing how malicious and petty a group of women could be when they move in packs. Animals we are inside and out. Men are also dangerous when they prowl together. It’s nature’s way to maintain a species by using force in numbers. The leader of any pack has a scent the others pick up as they travel together on the same path, sharing the focus of what brought them together as motivation.

Productive packs build and feed off of each other’s energy, mind-melding until they have ignited a frenzy of action/behavior to satisfy their raison d'etre. Packs who are hungry will spend hours devouring the carcass of their kill. It’s an ugly sight most humans find repulsive.

Imagine the same gruesome image with a pack of women feeding off of each other’s blood lust while dismantling a person or persons they have declared the loser of the hunt. What a disgusting visual to signal your mind to process. Yeck! Never-the-less, that is precisely what all of my hissing is about. That’s what it looks like on some of these websites’ comments pages. Oh, there are a few witty people about, lightening the mood during intense cyber punch-outs; at times one or two regulars will form a “close” cyber friendship in both private and public declarations and "have each other’s back," as well as sharing pleasant public exchanges that can be both irritating and sweet. All is not Dante’s Inferno.

The pack mentality seized on the previously mentioned puffy-lipped actress in a way I doubt most celebrities have been treated, with the exception of Ingrid Bergman's international trashing when she ran off with Italian director Roberto Rosselini, becoming pregnant with his child, while married to another man. (The masses were enraged, armed with bibles and torches to burn the witch's films and images. The public shunning would not be undone for many years before she could return to Hollywood, head held high, eventually absolved of falling in love.)

I'm using the virtual evisceration of our current actress as an example of how grim it can get in the underworld when the pack must take down their prey day-after-day, year-after-year, rather than having their meal and moving on. Someone always finds another area to chew and share with the others. By now one would think the skeletal remains would offer little to feast on. But no, the bones have marrow and, for the hungry, their fangs are running on automatic. Until all remnants of the bloodbath are nothing more than pieces of uneatable matter, the gleeful yelps in the revelry of the kill will remain.

What in the world am I "talking" about, you may wonder if you aren't aware of the accusations and players involved. What's wrong with a little bit of gossip and speculation about a public figure? It goes with the territory, doesn't it, to hurl a few juicy spitballs at those who have been standing on a wobbling pedestal. What's the big deal? She/He deserves it. She/He isn't perfect, and by God we'll make sure everyone knows just how imperfect that person really is - again, day-after-day-after-day. In the case of the actress in question, let's have some fun by doing the following:

Continuously show a video of her kissing her brother at various events over-and-over again. I mean, it's so incestuous and nauseating we just have to keep it active for all to view. Never mind that you - yourself - have watched it 65,000 times. Once is never enough, is it?

Copy and paste images of her physical flaws, creating arrows pointing to abnormalities in her physique - some indicating plastic surgery. Yep, she does have some strange things going on around her neck. Hmmm. I would never have noticed if it hadn't been pointed-out. But, to make sure I really get the message that she's imperfect, enlarge the picture until I can see the little dust mites in her hair. Then find another picture with a different angle of something else that looks strange. Blow that one up as well, comment "Eeeew" and you're off and running for another day or two until another visual is found to dissect.

Suggest that she's abusing her children because she holds their wrists rather than their hands while walking (or dragging) through another photo-op. Enlarge those pictures too, and accuse her of using specific "pressure points" to "control" the child/ren. Cluck-on forever on that topic, and make sure you make your concern all about "the children."

Forever-and-ever emphatically state that she used Voodoo to land her man. Keep that brewing in the pot for at least 5 years.

Toss with conspiratorial eye-twitchings that she's a drug-runner for the CIA. Mix with smuggling diamonds; add salt and baste with bodily fluids combined with perverted sexual acts to comment on in detail for another few years.

Above all, ensure that you profess your outrage at all of the above and include additional graphic suggestions in order to educate others on what else she could be doing on those black rubber sheets. Apparently it's not enough to surmise lurid acts when a celeb rag announces such goings-on. One must describe what could have happened and plant smarmy little images into one's head. 

I have to stop here as I'm obviously aiding and abetting the very pack mentality I'm flogging by bringing up the above subjects. But, I had to, you know, because I CAN and I want to and because I want to I CAN.

Some may deem me to be a hypocrite for my own finger wagging when I've been in on a small part of the feast. I assure all that I'm no better than "them" in many ways. Where I differ and slide away from the pack is the truth that as despicable as many find this less-than-perfect-in-every-way actress, I find continued desires to slap her (or anyone else) to the ground while also taking a hammer to those who think otherwise, equally sick.

I will move on after seeing, reading, watching the evidence prior to delivering a verdict. Sane and decent people don't need to linger in the courtroom to view the bloody graphic photographs of an horrific crime with disturbing fascination. If they did, the judge would take them off the jury and send them to a hospital for mental evaluation. Should I continue to blog about these women every day for the next month or so with nothing new to add, I would send myself to the psych ward.

The axe I've been grinding this week has been in the making for well over a year, and although I did have an outlet for my feelings and those involved, I've used my experiences and what I've witnessed as a new way in which to examine and flog the pack mentality, the "mean girls" syndrome, the sad state of scary anonymous internet ah-flares.

As a focus of bullying in real life, I do have a personal stake in the subject. When it happened on the interwebs, I didn't like it. I'm not proud of my own dissection of a few anonymous persona's, but in truth, despite the cavalier "it's just the internet" comments when these sorry fights occur, I fought back because it was personal. I also didn't like to see other's treated in an equally demeaning manner. However, when it gets down to a public figure such as the actress, what personal act did she perpetrate on these women? Nada.

It's not my job or plan to defend this woman. I've had a slightly rosy perception of her lifted from my lens via the various places I've roamed in the nether-world of gossip sites. Okay. Great. I learned something I didn't know that doesn't affect my life beyond satisfying a curiosity. (And yes, those veins ARE creepy!) What I have learned  that does affect my reality is how I didn't fully learn until later in life that seemingly "normal" people will go to great lengths to feed their need for justice against a complete stranger through slander, lies, and vulgar diatribes.

Another disturbing part of this story involves a poster who travels from site-to-site, claiming that the actress either hired or found someone to inflict a sexual assault on them for reasons still unknown to all who have read her many pathetic ramblings. Shivering in the shadows behind her computer, she (we assume she's a "she"), has fanned many of the already inflamed zealots. As I tend to say, "...but that's another story."

In truth, it IS another story with regard to the internet posting issue.

You can betcha this saga will be continued.......

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

A Tale of True Picky's

Part II: Lurid Lies

Have you ever been a bully or an anonymous responder on the internet? Have you reveled in the collapse of another's marriage or life? Have you dissected every inch of a person's physical flaws to such a point where it becomes an obsession? Have you wished death on a stranger? No, not the road rage momentary primal growl kind of death-wish, or the brief murderous feelings one may have during a particularly nasty fight with a SO or service rep. I'm writing about a studied and carefully designed desire to wish harm on those we simply do not like, do not know in real life, and have not done anything - personally - to you.

If you answered "Yes" to any of the above, then shame on you. (Finger wagging away.) You're only human, right? You aren't a saint, after all, and you can do what you want and say what you want and focus on what you want and write about what you want because you simply WANT TO and CAN behind your comfy little monitor screen. No one in your real life has to know how much you love to virtually scream at strangers, telling them that instead of having had their baby they should have aborted. Oh yes. That lovely sentiment was written to a decent poster on one of those low-down dirty little gossip sites. Why? "Why not?" that poster may have been feeling when they shot that remark out of their putrid inner cavern.

Hey, I'm for free speech. A few of my remarks on blogs and forums have been less-than-civil at times. Nonetheless, I never found a need to wish another poster death or to call them something as innocuous as a "moron" - a word I'd forgotten existed until I fell down the rabbit hole. And as I wrote in a previous blog, better to get that anger out than kill your children or husband/wife/SO, or take that tempting little semi-automatic with you to school, your former work place, or a crowded mall to express how pissed off you are at them or the world.

My point is not that people can be mean from time to time, the point I want to make is just HOW MEAN is "mean"? I'm not so naive as to not understand how many live lives of hollowness; disappointment; boredom. The point here is when it inflicts harm on others and how deep the chasm of self-loathing can be to cause so many to lash out at one another in ways most would not if it was happening in the "real world." Are there truly so many people out there with the need to slap other's around? If so, is the heat building to a bonfire on these sites?

To be fair, it's not always on gossip-oriented forums and blogs where cracked minds resort to less-than-humorous put-downs. I've read a few ripe remarks on popular news sites. Most, however, have the decency to monitor base remarks, as well as to ban all in-fighting. Hurray for them! Obviously, they don't need the "hits" for their websites and can, with confidence, allow intelligent people to express diverse opinions without a Jerry Springer-like free-for-all.

Despite understanding the Yin and Yang of life = there can be no light without the darkness, and vice versa, I will not stop posing the question: "Is is true that those who feel powerless, envious, jealous, must find devious ways in which to bolster their flagging egos?" To those who find dissing strangers an adrenalin rush just for the hell of it, maybe it's time for self-reflection. If you're willing to set aside ego and face humility, you might just avoid that poison apple.

Not everyone is capable of preening in front of a mirror to ask each day "Who is the fairest of them all?" God knows what their true reflection looks like or if they can tolerate the view. There is also the possibility that the mirror will crack or talk back to tell them of another little darling in the land. For those with a grandiose pomposity within, attack is the only answer: such is the mindset of bullies, who, in the past (as well as the present) focus/ed their venomous forked-tongue and twisted fists in-person. (If they had the guts to do so, that is.) Now we have the interwebs, the virtual form of alley-fighting.

All of these thoughts and experiences, analogies and such, bring me back to the blood-lust of the masses when civility is not in action but is a desperate overreaction of repressed rage. Who are these people? The "mean girls" in particular? What drives the lurid lies they share amongst themselves regarding why they won't stop pounding the gavel on a stranger or a public figure who may have a wee bit of a shady side? Has the supposed "civilized" world tapped into the days of public hangings and be-headings? Is it still in our DNA? Perhaps. Watching a train-wreck - literally and figurtively - is dramatic, isn't it? We stop and stare in wonder that something unusual has happened. It can become a collective bonding ritual of shaking heads, nail-biting, and an end to another dreary day in the neighborhood.

Good heavens! Is the human race still wired for such base desires? Well then, in morphing from our animal instincts to spiritual purity, we have a long way to go, don't we?

To be continued.....

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Hater Music Break


I could be a real pisser and exclaim "Hey-suse-H-Christ, there are some really sick beeches out there and I fell into their garbage pit and it rattled my sheltered little cage - oh my, woe is moi!"

Not gonna happen. I tend to tell stories - slow-like - that drives ADD (or "Type A") people crazy.

Part I: The Bully-Puppet

Rather than simply write, “People can be mean and that’s just how it is ” and be done with it, I’m compelled to flog mean and petty people for being what and who they are. Perhaps I’ll be mean along the way, placing myself in the middle of the quicksand one finds one’s self sucked into when sinking to the level of lashing back at people and/or circumstances that have, in one way or another, slapped us in the face.

In this case, the platform is the internet where one can be an anonymous terror, cackling like a witch or seething like a bitch while ripping to shreds another individual based on deeply repressed anger; bitterness over life’s unfairness; missing out on the Nordstrom or Wal-Mart shoe sale of the month; or just having a bad day…that may last a lifetime. For others, it might be that the angelic persona they exhibit at their jobs, with their families and neighbors, may hide a dark side for which a seemingly benign outlet is the best answer to the alien entity called “hate” festering within.

In April 2009 I fell into a rabbit hole of hatred, paranoia, multiple identities, bullying and infectious malevolence which made Alice’s experience down her rabbit hole where the “off with their heads” Queen seemed like a lovely little bump in the fright. On a gossip site slid I, unknowingly crashing a little clique-ish party of women who loathed a certain puffy-lipped actress and her paramour. I was astounded by the hatred I was reading in the “Comments” section. It was as if the actress had personally thrown red wine on their lily-white wedding dresses. Worse yet, had taken their husband for a kinky ride inside the local brothel.

I had never posted on a blog or forum until falling down that hole. I had read a few touchy back-and-forths on political sites, and once or twice read comments under a frothy celebrity headline, noticing how crass some of the commentators could be with one another; however, nothing had prepared me for my plunge into a sordid little world where I placed myself into an ethernet of flashbacks from my mixed-review childhood.

I began the unfortunate participation with the crow's nest of pious judgmentals with a curious mind, initially questioning the "hate" while concurrently sensing that something "smelled" with that particular site's owner. Time bore out my first instincts, although I admit I did try to find a  middle ground after having the hook lodged into my jaw. But that's another part of the story....

After I began posting and providing TMI about myself via lures I couldn't resist from a Big Bully-On-The-Spot, not only was I scrutinized, bashed, insidiously cornered by the brash, sad creature who I discovered was holding reign in this small corner of the interwebs, I also realized how she thrived on ensuring that anyone who disagreed or attempted to align with her on media credentials, was in for a roasting. Passive cohorts followed her rule as she held court with claims of superior education, dedication to educating the world of the actress in question's deplorable morals - and to this day continues to repeat these accusations on site after site, blog after blog.

This example of hatred bragged to have worked for the BBC and graduated from Oxford. She claimed to have proven her credentials to other posters in a private blog. Skype or hype? Oh well. The issue here is actually way beyond this woman who is known throughout a subculture as having more than one or two loose marbles, but that she is indicative of the rabid hating posters who lurk within the sewers of the interwebs, causing discord, and, until recently, creating tremendous site "hits" in high numbers by getting under the skin of those who are not like her in any shape or form. In her world, in fact, there is no one in this world who has ever been like her.

Which, by the way, leads me to the question of is she really real? I've now become so suspicious of posters on many sites that it could be she was hired to pump-up a flagging blog's readership with her outlandish, sadistic, behaviour. Until I met the likes of her and others in that environment, the idea of having paid writers to post on websites, blogs and forums to increase traffic, as well as legit PR firms to counter unflattering perceptions of their clients, never crossed my mind. Now, after a bit of research, I realize that paid posters are a reality.

The indecent aspect to this story is that the blog's owner, a somewhat well-known bottom-feeder in the publishing and TV celeb-show rounds, encouraged her demeaning posts. She was so disliked and stepped on too many toes, that a mass exodus from the blog created a topic on another message board against her, garnering thousand upon thousand's of views and posters coming forth with their own stories of victimization. Eventually she became a focus of ridicule and humour, instead of the Towering Flower of her blog master as she continued to tell the world how beloved and special she was, and how the demonic wicked-witch-of-the-world had hacked into her personal email. Say what?

At this point, one may deduce that such a person is ill, deserves empathy, should be ignored, or treated with love rather than disdain. Rational people felt this way. Critical people rolled their eyes. There was, and still is, no way to reach this creature, and I use that term "creature" because I still cannot fathom that she is real, or that she is capable of hearing, accepting, or considering that, if real, she may have a problem. Such people on the internet can be ignored and forgotten. Soon, she will be. Until then, I have to admit that the flogging she imposed on many decent people (tho' she did have ugly detractors slamming her every which way though not enough to knock her off her self-imposed throne) were truly "had" by her and to this day many will no longer post on any site where she may be a focus or participant.

Moving on from the Bully-Puppet, the main focus is not this sorry poster typing away her real or paid vitriol, it's actually the overall atmosphere of what happens when the pack mentality feeds on each other. The Big Bully aside, most of the women on these gossip sites are mothers, wives, and often in caretaker-based professions. There is always something going on with their health or families. If not, they deem to be so far above the focus of their criticisms that should an innocuous poster question their motives and stance, they are either thrashed with the handiest whip, or are written/spoken to in condescending language. Upholding their superior point of view, many will base their hatred/disgust/lurid fascination, and suggest that said celebrity had sex with a plant; engages in incest with their children; and, in general, is evil incarnate...all the while patting each other on the back for their wisdom and bravery in exposing such a slut.

The saddest part of this fairly mild example of hatred is that these mothers and wives have an unusually perverse fascination with their object of hate's professed and suggested perversions. Shivers abound.

Mirror, anyone?

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Sunday, November 14, 2010

Monday's Music Link for Previous Post

The Fickle Fingers of Hate

I’m wagging my “you’re so bad” finger in the face of all of the posters I’ve read on message boards and in the “Comments” section of various blogs who have a deep need to insult, ridicule, name-call, trash, and in general, cyber-bully another seemingly anonymous poster when they aren’t in agreement. God-Golly-Garsh, how dare these supposed adults express their once-suppressed vitriol via keystrokes behind a computer monitor rather than drown their children in a bathtub when their ever-so-attentive husband or partner isn’t looking? Sheesh. What fun would that be? Attorney fees alone would be a serious downer.

I have an enormous desire to fling an outrageous flog in the direction of a subculture on these here Interwebs in which I've been a willing participant for over a year. Grrrrrr. FU. STFU. DANG!

As usual, I'll split my story and opinions into "parts." Grand anger can be expressed in the above tame-named examples: nevertheless, I have an axe to grind and want to do so in a prolonged, excruciatingly detailed manner in order for all TDFB readers-in-haste to savour during a particularly bad day at a job they hate, or, at the least, anyone who wishes the weekend hadn't ended so terribly abruptly (as if you didn't see it coming?). Oh dear, I misused grammar and added a punctuation mark within a parenthesis. Will I be forgiven for my sophomoric sin?

Such is the pettiness of which I speak/write.

Uh-oh. I'm getting serious and might sound a tad bitter. Ugh. Who wants lime for breakfast or lunch or dinner? Lime is best with Tequila; thus, if you're having a tall salty-rimmed one, you'll be right by my side, right? If you don't drink and want to see all as well and good, with anyone expressing a bitter jagged spill of words onto a page as one in need of counseling, perhaps you might walk on by and go to another blog where faeries light up your day and deeper truths are held at bay.

Oh, hey, it's fine to be on the side of "Light." I'm not always scowling and sneering and steering away from love and light, I 've simply had to face the reality of spite. And, my friends, "spite" and "light" are precisely what I'll be flogging this week.

Pull out your limes, salt your glass, pour the Pellegrino or Tequila, and continue to visit my blog this week to discover what's crawling up the back of my neck to cause such a sweetie like me to be so, so - yeck! 

Time for another music break before I begin punching a cultural past-time, eh?

Well, some of you may want the raw meat of what I will be expressing RIGHT NOW! I, on the other hand, have always found music to be another way of setting the scene...and it's not always what one would expect.

On to New Topics Segue

Mea Gulp-ah

Whoops. This is a "daily" blog - so where did yesterday's flog go? I know those who read here were totally disappointed when nothing arrived on time. (Insert wink.) After all, there's nothing whatsoever to do on Saturday's, right?

My primary excuse could be that I was still reeling from the after-effects of watching a screening of Black Swan on Friday night. Ballet mingled with sexual repression and the sound of bones cracking and swans quacking danced in my head until I finally cleared such ugliness out of my system by watching real people plot to sabotage and kill each other on TV programs such as "48 Hours" re-runs and the like throughout a sunny Saturday afternoon.

Wow. There's nothing like using one's time to focus on what's truly important in life - and death, of course.

I now pronounce the latest flog on ME! (Wags finger in my direction. Goes to mirror and sticks out tongue.)

Enjoy the remainder of your weekend, my friends and foes. The latest music break is another hint for what's to come.

Friday, November 12, 2010

The Noun of the Hurry

Note: Iinformation provided in my recent posts are not new for those who follow American politics. I'm anwering a question many who don't live in the US, or pay attention to politics in general, have asked on my forum and elsewhere. In addition, I'm countering the growing negativity many longtime Democrats are expressing.

Part IV: Impatience-ion

In my final installment regarding the disillusionment many in America feel with President Obama, I believe the point is clear: impatience has become a fever that is rising to a dangerous temperature. Who can blame those who have lost jobs, life savings, a home… Despite the truth that Obama did not get us into this mess, he has yet to raise the dead, nor has he thrown a grenade into the snoring, ignoring Congress to break the gridlock. For those who voted for him and are now thumbing their nose at the slow progress or broken promises, he’s just like any other politician in their now-jaundiced eyes: untrustworthy.

In fairness to the Democrats, fed-up Republicans, and Independents who voted him into office, it is human nature to want to see tangible results as quickly as possible after living through 8 years of one of the most corrupt administrations in modern times. (If you doubt that the Bush administration was corrupt, I suggest that you please see your Ophthalmologist ASAP as you may have cataracts.)

For those who have no job, no hope, no NOTHING beyond a high credit card debt to maintain a computer connection because the previous administration threw their money to every Wolf on the planet, impatience is understandable. To others who are fortunate to have a job or a Trust Fund or a nice little pension, impatience on issues such as closing Guantanamo Bay simply doesn’t make sense when the guy in office has obstinate, fear-mongering enemies in Washington and a slumping economy to fix, as well as a new breed of rogue warriors tossing tea bags in the air filled with racist vitriol.

Remember how many times Obama has said “It will take time…” to fix our many problems? Healing a severely broken body takes a great deal of time. If one has been in a near-fatal car crash with a plethora of internal and external injuries, a series of delicate operations are required. To keep the patient alive, triage is often the only hope until the patient is air-lifted to a hospital where a series of specialists are in residence to handle the numerous injuries. A broken leg should not be set at the same time a heart transplant is performed. It’s one step at a time or else the patient will die. A doctor will stop the bleeding from a surface wound with a bandage before stitching if the patient is going into cardiac arrest. It’s called priorities.

Okayyy, you may say. You’ve waited for the big operation long enough. Obama seems to be spending too much time in the cafeteria talking to other doctors while the patient lays unconscious on the table. You’re the relative in the waiting room tapping your feet on that shiny linoleum floor, checking your watch. “What is taking so long?” One thing is true: with the death of Ted Kennedy, who knew how to twist those rigid Washington arms, Obama lost one of the top specialists in the field of general political medicine. He has not yet found a replacement, and the other specialists have retired. Such a statement isn’t an excuse; it’s simply truth.

At this point, less than two years into his presidency, Doctor Obama appears to have lost his focus as more patients line up in the waiting room. What should he do? Add to his staff? Ah, but then, such an action would increase the already stretched overhead of the country. Replace those who aren’t doing their job as efficiently as they could? Hmmm. That’s a novel idea. I can think of one or two chief residents who could take a long vacation. The recent elections made a few decisions for him; however, the replacements may have euthanasia on their minds rather than healing, so what will actually change in the next two years? Such is the grand prize question, isn’t it?

Will the impatience of progressive liberals turn into a swarm of killer bees, causing further disruption in the Democratic base? Will the bullet-touting Palin’s and beeches of her kind continue to pollute the atmosphere of quasi-peace in America and lead us into violence and defiance of sanity when they shill with Hannity on Fox “Eews” – or will those who use more than a few of their grey cells stop and take a breath before allowing ennui to become permanent?

Impatience breeds mistakes. If you’re on the operating table I hope you would want your physician to be thorough, centered, and focused on his or her task, not impatient to get to the next operation, otherwise you might end up with one of those “surprise” operating tools floating around in your body that a few unfortunate patients have discovered when a sloppy surgeon told their assistant to “close it up.”

Post-Related Music Break

Thursday, November 11, 2010

No Chicken Soup for the Soul

To continue answering the question of “Why do Americans dislike Obama?” I offer the 3rd installment of my own grasp on the situation:

Part III – Infection

I’m no doctor, but I can sense when someone is ill: glazed eyes, a fever, night-sweats, dizziness, muddled thinking resulting in poor judgment. Other symptoms include heartburn or nausea, creating an immediate need to open a window to breathe in fresh air. That latter option helps when the air is fresh, otherwise it might be best to live in a plastic bubble to avoid further infection. Such a remedy has been used by many presidents; however the classic “living in a bubble” in the Beltway tends to backfire. It’s tricky unless you have your own oxygen tank with you at all times.

My observation of the air in Washington DC is that prior to entering the city one should receive a strong vaccination to offset the grime-ridden embedded culture the elders have placed in basement laboratories to breed like a grotesque mold. When a new administration waltzes into town full of hope and optimism, the lethal spores are unleashed. Unless one wears a mask, ceases to shake hands with those who carry the bacteria and germs, refuses to taste that wonderful dinner prepared by the minority party’s leaders - which more than likely is laced with toxins - you end up sick.

A hybrid virus comprised of power, slippery slopes, rope-a-dopes, and other unsavory elements which hide within locked briefcases and compromised computers infected by Trojan horses carrying blackmail, lobbyist obligations, and so on, are merely minor infections a president must do his best to ward off.

Barack Obama is a healthy man. Although already part of the infected air as a senator, he managed to avoid the third-hand-smoke of the aged hallowed, sallow halls in buildings of heady infection. There was a spring in his step. He blew his nose frequently, not allowing the germs to move beyond the sinus cavity. (He may have taken Zinc on a daily basis as well.) And he definitely washed his hands with regularity.

Sometimes basic precautions against illness aren’t enough. To mine eye, this is precisely what has happened to President Obama. In the rush to appease all, to make good on his promises, he forgot to add chicken soup to his every day diet. He has opened the Oval Office window for fresh air whenever possible, only to be hit with a stench of greed, negativism, bigotry, and most of all, a hoard of Republicans who hated losing their precious power.

A fever crept into the healthy young president. Suddenly, he fell prey to an infection of obligations made by his campaign as well as members of his party that could not be undone; pressure not to offend people and institutions who held the cards to many of his most important legislative desires; the grim reaper of the plastic bubble slowly descending over the West Wing.

Another ailment I believe many modern presidents face as they rearrange the furniture in the Oval Office, must be the discovery of military and global scientific secrets conspiracy theorists discuss online every day: Is it that UFO’s actually exist? Is that dreaded asteroid doomsday prediction the truth? Is our (and other) government(s) seeding our skies with gridlines of toxins to rain down on the populace for nefarious purposes? Is Elvis still alive and hiding-out in the East Wing basement demanding more banana and peanut-butter sandwich's or else he’ll threaten to expose the murky goings-on in the Lincoln Bedroom over the years?

Hmmm. It’s a thought. We all know how quickly presidents age (unless they’re former movie stars with naps in the afternoon and a protective wife with a knack for hair coloring).

Bottom line? Obama needs a vaccination stat as the dastardly germs are growing stronger each day. If not, who knows how much longer it will be before he ends up in the Jimmy Carter Infirmary?

Part IV: Impatience-ion
Post Date: TBA

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Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Begin the Beguine

Part II – Inception

Just like the recent film Inception was complex and complicated, so it is with the presidency of Barack Obama. Did you know that President Obama made 500 promises to America when he ran for the most powerful and daunting job in the world? I didn’t. Think about it. 500 promises. I don’t believe I’ve ever made that many promises to anyone or anything in my entire life.

Most of us who aren’t political pundits or fact-checkers remember only the promises that resonated with our own hopes and dreams. We also remember a young man exuding charisma, flowing eloquent speech, and a shining spark of hope in his eyes. What a winner! Thus, the beginning of Obama’s presidency began on high hopes with a youthful altruistic flavour. Here was a politician with a vision of helping the (previously ignored by the former administration) lower and middle classes of America begin to dig out of the six-feet-under hole Bush had dug with just about everything sacred to the American Dream (unless one was part of his “base” of millionaires and their nifty tax breaks) on the ropes. For the first time in years, we could be proud that we had a president who knew how to speak English.

He also knew how to dance a sizzling slow one with his wife at the Inauguration Ball. Ah, at last, at last! No C&W Two-Step!

Campaigner Obama promised to close Guantanamo Bay, provide universal healthcare, change Washington’s MO, run a completely open “transparent” administration, provide new “green” energy jobs that would stimulate the economy, heal the sick, part the waters, cure the blind…. Well, it felt like that to many. To some people, he was to be our savior. His agenda was ambitious and noble indeed. It was also utterly impossible to fulfill in one magnanimous wave of a hand; the stroke of a pen; a speech to a stone-faced GOP.

With such a soaring agenda of change singing in our jaded hearts, supporters were ready for new faces, new tactics, no didactics.

One of the first signs that he might be veering off course was to appoint longtime Washington insiders to both his cabinet and staff positions. Appointing former Federal Reserve Bank of New York CEO and long time Washington insider Timothy Geithner as Secretary of the Treasury was, as many have noted, akin to having the Wolf guard the henhouse. In one way the choice made sense - Geithner knew how to maneuver around those tricky Wall Street devils. Better to have an insider who knew the path than someone who could trip over the hidden cracks in that street. And then there is the soon-departing Larry Summers, director of the National Economic Council whose history is filled with fighting for privatization and deregulation in economics. Hmmm. Odd choice when deregulation is at the source of our current financial crisis, among other deregulations in business concerns.

Obama planned to appoint former Senate Majority Leader Tom Daschle as his health secretary until Daschle’s tax and alleged lobbying history foiled that plan. For the all-important job of Attorney General came Eric Holder, the Justice Department’s No. 2 when Bill Clinton was president. The nail in the coffin has been Rahm Emanuel, Obama’s Chief of Staff, who was another veteran of the Clinton White House and known for his selective $#@!! vocabulary. Now on his way to run for office in Illinois, Rahm the Ram didn’t appear to do anything but butt heads with other Democrats rather than bash a few of the GOP’s horns.

The above is a small example of how the inception of Mr. Obama’s presidency began to raise eyebrows. Nevertheless, those who wanted him to succeed gave him a pass. After all, appointing Hillary Rodham Clinton as Secretary of State was a brilliant decision – insider or not – and who wouldn’t want a few seasoned insiders to get things moving?

Inheriting two wars, a staggering deficit, inevitable looming unemployment, money had to be spent = the much debated Stimulus program. OMG, cried the GOP, he’s adding to the deficit! He’s a typical Democrat – spend, spend, spend! And spend he did. And a deep recession was avoided. However, it was merely a band-aid and people weren’t listening when he said over and over again that it would take time to get out of the hole. He didn’t turn fishes and loaves into enough food for thousands.

For a variety of reasons President Obama has never disclosed, Guantanamo Bay was suddenly out of his speeches, remaining active to this day. Transparency became opaque when meetings held with corporate leaders behind closed doors began to smell like the same old cigar smoke of yore. His persistence to “reach across the aisle” to the GOP from the get-go (only to have his hand thrown back in his face) made him appear to be too “nice.” Then again, that’s part of the perception problem. Or is it?

It gets down to what I wrote at the beginning of this blog: Obama made a great deal of promises. Not all have come through. People get cranky when they don’t get what they want. There is also a question of what his priorities have been in what he has pushed through Congress, and what he has allowed to fester in the desire to compromise with those whose words to him are only “No.”

A fascinating detailed list of his promises can be found at  http://www.politifact.com/

According to their tracking, Obama’s record to date is as follows:

122 Promises Kept
40 Compromises
84 Stalled
23 Broken Promises
234 Still In Progress
3 Undetermined

Part III – Infection
Post Date: TBA

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Monday, November 8, 2010

The De-Flowering of the Annual Impatience

Let me be very clear – I know the flower is spelled “impatiens.” Allow me to use the opening phrase as the beginning of the absolute cringe I feel every time a U.S. president has used that tired, tune-outing, mind-dumbing preemptive verbal strike, “Let me make myself perfectly clear.” Oh dear, here we go again…. That’s when zee z-z-z’s begin, yes? Well, guess who’s saying that almost every other week of late? Mr. Obama. Or, as “no-sayers” write: “Obumma.”

A Canadian-based poster on my forum proffered a question today I’ve heard (and read) numerous times this year: “Why are Americans so disillusioned with Obama?” (You know, the usual “pour quoi”of the uber-elite snobbish Canadians; a culture of such hubris in the world that one can barely stand to engage with them on rational issues. Or shall I pronounce it “ee-sews”? Oh, that’s how the UK-based upper-classes say it. Pardon me, it’s all so very confusing these daze. We are living in a global sphere, after all. How can one keep anything straight?) Anyhow, back to those utterly incorrigible, belligerent Canadians who dare to ask such an inflammable question of the notoriously entitled US of A. I'll answer her question here. (If she's still speaking to me. The above was just a joke, ya' know?)

The bottom line to the questions regarding America’s seemingly disillusioned perception of Obama is partially that: perception. The next? Inception. Next? Infection. Last? Impatience-ion.

Part I - Perception:
Something nasty happens when politicians ignore when they are out of touch, or, at the least, attempt to place a rosy glow over a difficult period in their leadership and country by posing an encouraging "all is well" attitude while external problems they are trying to alleviate are screaming in the headlines. Mr. Obama has fallen into the crevasse of bad PR at crucial times. Someone fell asleep at the PR wheel this year.

Obama has done more in less than two years for our country than the previous administration did in 8 years. He walked into a miasma that would have become worse had he not made compromises and sacrifices.

Nevertheless, the mis-steps in perception have cost him the support, trust and faith many had in his initial vision for change, as well as with his judgment. When one is a target, as any president is (particularly a Democrat in the midst of GOP and Tea Party swirling snakes who distort every move he makes - or doesn't), one must be cautious with how the public perceives your actions.

Prez's must have down time. Bush took more vacations to Crawford than Obama has taken vacations in the same time period. However, if oil is spouting into your oceans, smiling and having an ice cream cone while on a short vacation doesn't work. Going ahead with a tribute involving Paul McCartney at the same time thousands are losing their livelihoods due to that toxic leak; allowing your spouse to take a seemingly unnecessary trip to Spain, provides grist for the shrills. Despite any person’s need to relax in order to tackle their jobs with a refreshed mind-set and physical vigor, leaders simply cannot risk being seen playing golf, laughing, dancing or joking, when jobs are scarce, wars are fought and lives are lost every few minutes. There is a reason why Camp David exists. No press allowed! Obama hasn’t gone there very often. Big mistake.

Unlike Bush’s obligatory fly-over of Katrina, Obama went to the Gulf 8 times. Did we hear about more than one or two of them? No. His PR machine did a piss-poor job hammering that on network and cable outlets. He managed to get SOMETHING done on healthcare, unlike all of the other presidents before him. How often was that achievement mentioned by Democratic mouthpieces on the networks and cable outlets – or even from his own administration? Oh, it was mentioned, almost as a whisper.

You get the point: Unless you ring your own bell with a swagger, no one notices. Unless you continue shouting your achievements from a mountain top, no one will listen. Unless you defend your positions with a pounding gavel or hand, you are considered a wuss. Mr. Obama is too much of a gentleman to print a “Wanted Dead or Alive” poster. Sorry, Mr. President, but it appears that the masses want you to stop wearing nice suits and start acting like a cowboy. After all, look at how well our country fared under the last guy from Texas with that cutesy drawl and mangled tongue. You’re just too civilized in comparison.

Part II: Inception
Post Date: Tomorrow

Thursday, November 4, 2010

The GOP - "Take Our Government Back"

Ponder that quote: "Take our government back." Okayyyyy. Back to where? The good old daze of handing out taxpayer money to shady companies such as Haily-burpin' ? Oh, wait. We're continuing to rely on them for the all-so-important engineering feats of the 21st Century. Wonder if Mr. Chain-me has ceased to grit his teeth at every rumbling churn in his tummy now that he can freely count all of the kick-back oil-and-blood-soaked money he continued to receive while ruining the US of A. That's old news and I digress; however, Mr. Darth-Death-Evader's puppet, Georgy Wuss, has a memoir on the verge of landing on a bookstore shelf near you. Fond memories prevail in another waste of trees to take us back to those wonder daze where the "No-Sayers" want us to go. In fact, let's use Wussy's presidency as the "back" to which the enlightened quasi-majority/minority feels such emotionally-charged sentimentality.

Shall we stroll down Memorex Lane? (Yes, that's how "back" sounds and looks like.) It won't take long. You'll find the Iraq war casual-tee numbers on political sites. Same with the economic surplus Mr. Wussy inherited, etc. I'll simply remind all that the emotional maturity of the old daze can be summed-up in Wussy's "Worst Moment" as the Prezzy: when Kanye West accused him of being racist.

Ponder THAT one. Yep. That's what he sez in his book.

Hmmm. I'm pondering it as well. On second thought, I won't take us back because I may need to pop an anti-acid and collapse on a chez, hand-over-head, following in the classic Colette drama queen fashion, moaning, "Armande, Armande!"

In truth, I feel a tad queasy at the moment.

I would rather "Lean Forward" as MSNBC would suggest (although their new slogan makes no sense at all unless one is attempting to understand who's saying what over the other who is yelling).

For now, that's all she wrote.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Land of the Greed - Home of the Naive'

Following the elections which will turn the House over to the Republicans, I wasn't surprised. It's a well-trodden trend in politics to turn against whomever is in power if the world just isn't goihg the way it "should."

Rather than getting all down and gritty with words over last night's overall results, I'd like to point those who appreciate comedy and comic strips, or at the least are open to a new technique of expression, to go to my forum where our shining star - FireFly10 - has prepared another hit on a topical quake.

Enjoy! http://thedailyquake.com/

You'll find the post on the last page of "What's Shakin' " in category "Topical Quakes."

Paint It Red - My Ode To "Change" - *cough*

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Election Secretions

Pristine O'Gosh-Darn-It DIDN'T win! Whew! Everyone in Delaware can start masterbating again.

Randy Pole in Kenfukkyee DID win! This means all women will have to get down on their knees - or else.

Non-Sharing-Sharron Angle DID NOT win! Okay. Now it's time to have a little chat with winner Hairy Rust in a woodshed before he completely forgets where he left his cajones.

Mega Whitewoman DIDN'T WIN! The poor billionaire may need her Social Security check sooner than later. How much of her money from the campaign is a tax write-off? Hmmmmm.......

Carly-Fee-O-Reem-Yo' DID NOT win! Thank God. Now I can finally go to bed knowing my own personal yacht won't be out-sourced as a cruise ship to China.

Flogging Yourself?

I'm watching the election returns while struggling with my own Self-Flogging for feeling so bloody bland today. Who did I turn to for inspiration? The most unlikely source. His lyrics say it all.

It's Election Day

Are you voting? Those who won't deserve a flog today.