Connecting the Dots

I was wasting time, waiting for a scientist to call me ("Hello, scientist!"), so I was reading up on my Internets.

I went to the local purveyor of news and found a pair of stories that suggest a solution.

One -- a vicious criminal is on the loose in Bethany, Okla. And his prey is the weakest of all. Not old ladies. Not children. Not sick animals. This bastard wants women -- full-grown women -- to sell him their underwear. For $20.

The sick bastard is leaving notes, instructing women how they can send them to him. The police, thankfully, are hot on this trail.

Police Chief Neil "Fishlips" Troutman says this man has a fetish and he's worried what he'll do next. Because if a dude likes ladies underwear, he's clearly a dangerous individual. Don't bother questioning him, cops -- just shoot the fucker.

But there's a solution that can avoid violence. The underwear man needs to move east to Jones, Okla., where there ain't no police -- or won't be, soon enough.

Hell, maybe the open-minded women of Jones will be open-legged enough to give up their underwear -- for $20.

I mean, I haven't seen the notes or anything, but does he care what kind of underwear they are? Ladies, there is a goldmine here. Put on some cheap-ass panties, do a couple of jumping jacks and send them to this guy for a big profit.

3 months later

It has been nearly three months since I started my new job. And yet, when I tell somebody to call me -- be it for work or for leisure -- I still find myself saying (in my head, at least) 475-409... My old work number.

When does that stop? Because I'm not wild about it.

Hello, I'm Paula Poundstone

Still sick. Or, I guess, still still sick. Better than before, though, so hopefully I only have to muddle through another few days of this before I can be well again.

Regardless, the cold has taken its toll. Dr. Wife is sick now, which is just awesome, and three days away from work has stripped me of what little acumen I had to start with.

Oh, I can still write press releases and news stories, but I've forgotten how to tie a tie. I mean, it's on there, but it is hanging lower than normal. I look like a lesbian comedienne. Though my face has to take some of the blame, I guess.

Still Sick

Have decided to die, come back from the dead for work on Monday.

Reminds me of a carpenter I once knew who had some crazy ideas about how we should all love each other. His name? I think it was Jeff. Good guy. Hell of a carpenter.

Sacrilege taking too much effort. Dying now.

Misery-Belle

Well, I went all fucking fall and all goddamn winter and now it's March 19 and I'm sick. Woo-hoo.

Started coughing at work yesterday and I knew. Didn't take much, really. My throat hurt like hell and my nose started running back instead of forward. By 3 a.m. this morning, it was official. I took something that promised to help me sleep (though it took a while) and called in sick.

And, seeing as I've only been at my job a few months, I don't really have sick leave. I mean, at 6 months I will have sick leave, but today, the day I'm taking off, will show up on my next paycheck thusly:

Sick Leave: -8

Only by the grace of my boss do I not get shorted a day's pay for this. Which is good, since I'm both broke and likely to stay in bed one more day to try and kill this bitch off properly. Too many people rush back, relapse and end up giving it to everybody else.

So, if you need me, feel free to call. And if the Robitussin hasn't paralyzed me, I might just pick up.

Let's Call it a Day

People have been predicting the fall of Western civilization for a long, long time. Every new affront to the status quo is hailed as another precursor to the eventual ruination of society.

Well, I'm tired of waiting. I say, let's tear this bitch down already.

Are there things to like about America and Europe? Sure. I enjoy both cheeseburgers and castles. But it seems like there's a lot more to dislike. I guess I'm part of the Hate America crowd or something.

But I don't hate America. That's stupid. I just hate all the choices we've made. It's like we kept the bad stuff and changed the good things just enough to make it all shitty.

I think free speech was a good idea, but we've really let that go. Free speech used to be the power to float ideas out into the marketplace and the freedom to tell unpopular truths. Nowadays? Not so much. We're fighting against truth and freedom and the only safe thing to say is the same thing over and over and over again, no matter how wrong.

Capitalism started out OK, too. But we left it alone too much. Over time, you think we'd evolve past the idea that whatever makes the most money must be the right thing to do. I'm not saying it's bad to turn a profit. Far from it. I just think we have to consider what price higher profits have back home. You know, I'd buy an American car -- even one that wasn't as good as a Japanese car -- if I thought I was actually helping Americans. Sadly, that's not the way it works. Hell, a lot of Japanese cars are built over here now. Who cares if the CEO is in Japan? I want your everday Americans getting paid to put that shit together.

And politics -- you know, it's just depressing. What, in the last 30 years, would you be glad to see again? Anything? If I have to hear another Hillary-vs.-Obama press release debate, I'm liable to just vote None of the Above. (Thanks, Richard Pryor!)

No, we've had our time. It was fun while it lasted. But I say we pack it in and get this over with. Besides, it will be fun for future archeologists to look at our failed experiment through the eyes of old TMZ broadcasts. What is muddied for us will be clear to them -- The reason we disappeared is that we deserved it.

Gay Al-Qaeda Determined to Strike Traditional Marriage!

There are lots of shitty things about living in Oklahoma. There's the shitty roads. There's the shitty economy. There's the shitty liquor laws.

But, by a wide margin, the shittiest thing about living in Oklahoma is the people. Not all of them are bad -- in fact, most of them are fine. But it doesn't take a very big ratio of shit to make things shitty.

One of our local turds is doing more than the rest. Her name is Sally Kerns and she is the State Rep. for district 84.

Here is what she thinks about gay people:



Yes. Homosexuals are more of a threat to the U.S. than terrorists. Not all lifestyles are created equal, just as not all religions are created equal.

Would I vote for this woman? Absolutely not. She's an imbecile. That said, what her bigoted, racist, retarded ass said isn't illegal. When she tries to pass a law rounding up gay people and putting them in concentration camps, that's when we assassinate the bitch.

In the interim, if you'd like to e-mail your thoughts to Sally, you can do so right here: sallykern@okhouse.gov

EDIT: For something even more horrifying, take a look at what my fellow Oklahomans think about it: http://www.newsok.com/article/3214408

(Hint: Lots of them are with her.)

Inspiration.

So, Christmas before last, Dr. Wife got me an ill-advised gift. She knew it was a bad idea and she told me that even as she handed it to me.

It was a video game. Civilization IV. And I play it just way too fucking much. Way, way, way too much. The same way I played two of the previous three versions of the game way, way, way too much.

The new version has a new feature (shocker!) called "Great People." Basically, you build or discover something really great and you get a superman -- a religious guy or an engineer or a merchant or a scientist or an artist -- and they can do some great shit. As a function of the game, it's great. But until recently, I never quite got how it made sense in the real world.

Great things make great people. A great work of engineering might inspire more engineers, who then come up with new ideas and new creations that inspire another generation, and so on.

Of course, the pyramids probably inspired some shitty engineers, too, so maybe it's a wash. All I know is, when I see a great piece of art, it inspires me do something of my own. Well, it makes me want to do something, I guess. I never seem to actually follow through.

Talking with Brit in the past, we've discussed the desire to create and the complete paralysis that takes us over as soon as we start. It's less true for her, because she keeps writing and making me look bad. Meanwhile, I don't even seem to want to be a writer anymore. I just want to pay off my credit cards, get the lawn looking respectable and take a nap.

But the last episode of "The Wire" aired last night and, surprise, I find myself wanting to create. But at the same time, I know I won't, because I'm afraid I can't, so why even try? And if I do create something, it will suck and people will hate it and then I'll have created something bad. See how that works? I can't make anything and even if I do, it will be crap and I shouldn't have done it to begin with.

These are all things that make it easier to kind of sit in my own filth. So I don't write and I don't clean up the house and I don't lose weight and I don't get in shape and I don't read the books I think I should read and I don't put in tile in the kitchen and I don't paint the house and I don't fertilize the yard and I don't work at being better at my job and I don't do my share of working on my marriage.

God, this is fucking depressing. I'm going to write a fucking press release now.

Two true things

1. If my constantly twitching leg, irregularly sunny demeanor and motivation to get to work are any indications, a thermos full of coffee is REALLY good for me.

It's fucking bizarre.

2. On the way to work today, I saw the following on a license plate:

WAR4GOD

Yeah, I'm sure God is really happy to have your ringing endorsement, sir. Thank goodness you didn't waste time reading the supposed "word of God," in which war is kind of frowned upon.

Just send cash, thanks.

You know, gift cards are stupid for a lot of reasons. The first, of course, is that they're completely unnecessary.

A gift card is supposed to be "as good as cash," right? Except it isn't. It's cash that HAS to go to one store or a conglomerate of stores. The idea is, when given a card, that the giver is telling you, "I know you shop here, so here's some money to spend."

But, unlike giving somebody actual hard currency, you can't get change from a gift card. You almost always have to spend more than the gift card is worth to use it all. That's a gift that costs people money.

Oh, and a $5 bill doesn't charge me 50 cents a month to hold onto it, either. Plus, if I can't find anything I want, a $5 bill doesn't tell me it must be spent at Claire's Boutique in the mall.

When I'm through spending a $5 bill, it doesn't leave behind an empty husk of a card, which probably won't be recycled.

And gift cards just got more retarded -- the company can just tell you they won't accept it anymore if they've gone into Chapter 11. That's what Sharper Image is doing right now and it's definitely not doing much to sharpen their image.

Gift cards are not money. They are considered loans to a company. Loans. Which means when they go bankrupt, even if they're still in business, those loans are void.

You want to make sure I spend your gift money on something for me? Don't worry. It doesn't take much to convince me to shop for myself. And if I do use it for groceries or the mortgage or for fast food, what the fuck do you care? At least I'm using your gift, which is a stark contrast to a lot of the shit people buy for each other.

Anybody but McCain

There, I said it.

I voted for Barack Obama in the primaries. Hillary Clinton is not my favorite person in the world. But come November, I will vote for either of them. I will vote for anybody (within reason) but McCain.

Why? Because John McCain is old. He's crazy. He's not concerned with the economy. He's all about the war. Or wars.

He's socially conservative in the second worst possible way -- he doesn't believe in it, but he does it anyway. What does that mean?

It means that even though he thinks the religious right are full of shit -- filled to the brim, topped off and overflowing with hot, steaming dung -- he'll still do what they say so he can be President.

And that means fucking over the people who don't need the government telling them what it's OK to read, watch, listen to or do in the bedroom -- or as I like to call them: "Adults."

Who else but babies would ask the government to impose gargantuan fines on TV stations who accidentally let forbidden words on air? Who else but babies needs someone to make sure they don't consume ideas they just can't handle?

I'm an adult. I like the freedom of speech and the freedom of (or from) religion and the freedom to do my thing without having some sensory-deprived goodie-goodie "protecting" me from words and images that I'm just not capable of hearing, seeing or reading without going fucking crazy.

So, in November, I'm voting for whoever has a D next to their name. Whoever it is won't be perfect, but at least it won't be John Goddamn McCain.

Overheard as I was leaving work

"Oh, I just love your muff. I want to play with it."

Just another day in the Lesbian Mill.

I did not consult Jeff Foxworthy on this...

You know you're an irredeemable geek/dork/spaz when...

upon finding the right set of stairs after being lost in a building you say, "Now THESE are the droids I was looking for!"

It is a moo-rical of science that I ever get laid.