Thursday, March 30, 2006
A Little Requiem for A Little Cat
I adopted a little 7 month old grey Siamese mix kitten from Hopalong Rescue last June. He had been previously adopted but returned because the first owner's landlord did not allow pets. I named him Tao. He blended in seamlessly with my other 3 cats. He was just learning how to be comfortable in the house, jumping on counters (which I think he'd been beaten by his prior owner for doing that), challenging Martin, the boss cat, running Weery (the 3 year old gold tubloons Flame Point Siamese mix)through the house and boxing gently with Gaziel, the older, curmudgeonly Flame Point cat. He was regular cat sized, but with a small Siamese head and profile and very slender, delicate pads and legs. Sometimes I'd wake up from sleep, thinking a hand was gently petting my foot only to find that Tao was stroking my sole with his tiny, soft pads.
Taoie was also learning how to really play with the leopard snake that I'd dangle for the guys to jump at and was acquiring a taste for catnip. He'd staked out a place on the bed that he called his own at night, and when I slept, he didn't just cuddle, he clung like a limpet.
We played last night and had a lot of fun. When I woke up this morning, Tao was limp and gasping for air. I touched him and he started to moan and scream. I rushed him to the vet down the block to find that he was dying from a congenitally enlarged heart.
So, employed or jobless, look at the clouds, feel the breeze, enjoy a meal, hug your cat or dog, be kind to your partner and kinder to yourself. Death hides in the shadow of every moment.
Rest in peace, little Tao.
Taoie was also learning how to really play with the leopard snake that I'd dangle for the guys to jump at and was acquiring a taste for catnip. He'd staked out a place on the bed that he called his own at night, and when I slept, he didn't just cuddle, he clung like a limpet.
We played last night and had a lot of fun. When I woke up this morning, Tao was limp and gasping for air. I touched him and he started to moan and scream. I rushed him to the vet down the block to find that he was dying from a congenitally enlarged heart.
So, employed or jobless, look at the clouds, feel the breeze, enjoy a meal, hug your cat or dog, be kind to your partner and kinder to yourself. Death hides in the shadow of every moment.
Rest in peace, little Tao.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
A Letter From An Afghani American
Dear Friends,
The following was sent to me by my friend Tamim Ansary. Tamim is an
Afghani-American writer. He is also one of the most brilliant
people I know in this life. When he writes, I read. When he talks, I
listen. Here is his take on Afghanistan and the whole mess we are in.
> > >
> > >
> > >
Dear whoever is on this email thread:
> > >
I've been hearing a lot of talk about 'bombing Afghanistan back to
the Stone Age.' Ronn Owens, on KGO Talk Radio today, allowed that this would
mean killing innocent people, people who had nothing to do with
this atrocity, but 'we're at war, we have to accept collateral damage.
What else can we do?' Minutes later I heard some TV pundit discussing whether we 'have the belly to do what must be done.' And I thought about the issues being raised especially hard
because I am from Afghanistan, and even though I've lived here for 35 years
I've never lost track of what's going on there. So I want to tell
anyone who will listen how it all looks from where I'm standing.
I speak as one who hates the Taliban and Osama Bin Laden. There is
no doubt in my mind that these people were responsible for the
atrocity in New York. I agree that something must be done about those
monsters. But the Taliban and Ben Laden are not Afghanistan. They're not even
the government of Afghanistan. The Taliban are a cult of ignorant psychotics who took over Afghanistan in 1997. Bin Laden is a
political criminal with a plan. When you think Taliban, think Nazis. When
you think Bin Laden, think Hitler. And when you think 'the people of Afghanistan' think 'the Jews in the concentration camps.' It's not
only that the Afghan people had nothing to do with this atrocity.
They were the first victims of the perpetrators. They would exult if someone would come in there, take out the Taliban and clear out the rats
nest of international thugs holed up in their country. Some say, why don't the Afghans rise up and overthrow the Taliban?
The answer is, they're starved, exhausted, hurt, incapacitated,
suffering. A few years ago, the United Nations estimated that there are
500,000 disabled orphans in Afghanistan--a country with no economy, no
food. There are millions of widows. And the Taliban has been burying
these widows alive in mass graves. The soil is littered with land mines, the
farms were all destroyed by the Soviets. These are a few of the reasons
why the Afghan people have not overthrown the Taliban.
We come now to the question of bombing Afghanistan back to the
Stone Age. Trouble is, that's been done. The Soviets took care of it already. Make the Afghans suffer? They're already suffering. Level their
houses? Done. Turn their schools into piles of rubble? Done. Eradicate
their hospitals? Done. Destroy their infrastructure? Cut them off from
medicine and health care? Too late. Someone already did all that.
New bombs would only stir the rubble of earlier bombs. Would they
at least get the Taliban? Not likely. In today's Afghanistan, only
the Taliban eat, only they have the means to move around. They'd slip away
and hide. Maybe the bombs would get some of those disabled
orphans, they don't move too fast, they don't even have wheelchairs. But flying
over Kabul and dropping bombs wouldn't really be a strike against the
criminals who did this horrific thing. Actually it would only be making
common cause with the Taliban--by raping once again the people they've
been raping all this time.
So what else is there? What can be done, then? Let me now speak
with true fear and trembling. The only way to get Bin Laden is to go in there
with ground troops. When people speak of 'having the belly to do
what needs to be done' they're thinking in terms of having the belly to kill
as many as needed. Having the belly to overcome any moral qualms about
killing innocent people. Let's pull our heads out of the sand.
What's actually on the table is Americans dying. And not just because
some Americans would die fighting their way through Afghanistan to Bin Laden's hideout. It's much bigger than that folks. Because to get
any troops to Afghanistan, we'd have to go through Pakistan. Would
they let us? Not likely. The conquest of Pakistan would have to be first.
Will other Muslim nations just stand by? You see where I'm going. We're
flirting with a world war between Islam and the West.
And guess what: that's Bin Laden's program. That's exactly what he
wants. That's why he did this. Read his speeches and statements. It's all right there. He really believes Islam would beat the west. It might seem ridiculous, but he figures if he can polarize the world into Islam and the West, he's got a billion soldiers. If the west wreaks a holocaust in those lands, that's a billion people with nothing left to lose, that's even better from Bin Laden's point of view. He's probably wrong, in the end the west would win, whatever that would mean, but the war would last for years and millions would die, not just theirs
but ours. Who has the belly for that? Bin Laden does. Anyone else?
> > > Tamim Ansary
The following was sent to me by my friend Tamim Ansary. Tamim is an
Afghani-American writer. He is also one of the most brilliant
people I know in this life. When he writes, I read. When he talks, I
listen. Here is his take on Afghanistan and the whole mess we are in.
> > >
> > >
> > >
Dear whoever is on this email thread:
> > >
I've been hearing a lot of talk about 'bombing Afghanistan back to
the Stone Age.' Ronn Owens, on KGO Talk Radio today, allowed that this would
mean killing innocent people, people who had nothing to do with
this atrocity, but 'we're at war, we have to accept collateral damage.
What else can we do?' Minutes later I heard some TV pundit discussing whether we 'have the belly to do what must be done.' And I thought about the issues being raised especially hard
because I am from Afghanistan, and even though I've lived here for 35 years
I've never lost track of what's going on there. So I want to tell
anyone who will listen how it all looks from where I'm standing.
I speak as one who hates the Taliban and Osama Bin Laden. There is
no doubt in my mind that these people were responsible for the
atrocity in New York. I agree that something must be done about those
monsters. But the Taliban and Ben Laden are not Afghanistan. They're not even
the government of Afghanistan. The Taliban are a cult of ignorant psychotics who took over Afghanistan in 1997. Bin Laden is a
political criminal with a plan. When you think Taliban, think Nazis. When
you think Bin Laden, think Hitler. And when you think 'the people of Afghanistan' think 'the Jews in the concentration camps.' It's not
only that the Afghan people had nothing to do with this atrocity.
They were the first victims of the perpetrators. They would exult if someone would come in there, take out the Taliban and clear out the rats
nest of international thugs holed up in their country. Some say, why don't the Afghans rise up and overthrow the Taliban?
The answer is, they're starved, exhausted, hurt, incapacitated,
suffering. A few years ago, the United Nations estimated that there are
500,000 disabled orphans in Afghanistan--a country with no economy, no
food. There are millions of widows. And the Taliban has been burying
these widows alive in mass graves. The soil is littered with land mines, the
farms were all destroyed by the Soviets. These are a few of the reasons
why the Afghan people have not overthrown the Taliban.
We come now to the question of bombing Afghanistan back to the
Stone Age. Trouble is, that's been done. The Soviets took care of it already. Make the Afghans suffer? They're already suffering. Level their
houses? Done. Turn their schools into piles of rubble? Done. Eradicate
their hospitals? Done. Destroy their infrastructure? Cut them off from
medicine and health care? Too late. Someone already did all that.
New bombs would only stir the rubble of earlier bombs. Would they
at least get the Taliban? Not likely. In today's Afghanistan, only
the Taliban eat, only they have the means to move around. They'd slip away
and hide. Maybe the bombs would get some of those disabled
orphans, they don't move too fast, they don't even have wheelchairs. But flying
over Kabul and dropping bombs wouldn't really be a strike against the
criminals who did this horrific thing. Actually it would only be making
common cause with the Taliban--by raping once again the people they've
been raping all this time.
So what else is there? What can be done, then? Let me now speak
with true fear and trembling. The only way to get Bin Laden is to go in there
with ground troops. When people speak of 'having the belly to do
what needs to be done' they're thinking in terms of having the belly to kill
as many as needed. Having the belly to overcome any moral qualms about
killing innocent people. Let's pull our heads out of the sand.
What's actually on the table is Americans dying. And not just because
some Americans would die fighting their way through Afghanistan to Bin Laden's hideout. It's much bigger than that folks. Because to get
any troops to Afghanistan, we'd have to go through Pakistan. Would
they let us? Not likely. The conquest of Pakistan would have to be first.
Will other Muslim nations just stand by? You see where I'm going. We're
flirting with a world war between Islam and the West.
And guess what: that's Bin Laden's program. That's exactly what he
wants. That's why he did this. Read his speeches and statements. It's all right there. He really believes Islam would beat the west. It might seem ridiculous, but he figures if he can polarize the world into Islam and the West, he's got a billion soldiers. If the west wreaks a holocaust in those lands, that's a billion people with nothing left to lose, that's even better from Bin Laden's point of view. He's probably wrong, in the end the west would win, whatever that would mean, but the war would last for years and millions would die, not just theirs
but ours. Who has the belly for that? Bin Laden does. Anyone else?
> > > Tamim Ansary
Sunday, March 26, 2006
I Want You for Your Brains
Brainy, liberal-arts oriented, post-punk girl seeks Calculus Tutor.
I could care less what you look like, what you do for fun, whether you are a top or bottom, or whether you eat meat or smoke. Do you go to the gym? That's nice, I could give a fuck.
What I want to know is-- can you simplify a complex rational equation? Do you have a mastery of advanced algebra and college-level Calculus? Can you find the limits, derivatives, points of inflection, points of concavity, etc. of a difficult function? Can you not only *do* Math, but teach it too?
I need to pass Calculus in order to get my very important scholarship to graduate school. I haven't solved for X in about ten years.
Can you help? I don't want sex, or friendship, or "more"... but I will pay you $10/hr for tutoring and buy you beers at the Lex.
I have a midterm next week, help!
I could care less what you look like, what you do for fun, whether you are a top or bottom, or whether you eat meat or smoke. Do you go to the gym? That's nice, I could give a fuck.
What I want to know is-- can you simplify a complex rational equation? Do you have a mastery of advanced algebra and college-level Calculus? Can you find the limits, derivatives, points of inflection, points of concavity, etc. of a difficult function? Can you not only *do* Math, but teach it too?
I need to pass Calculus in order to get my very important scholarship to graduate school. I haven't solved for X in about ten years.
Can you help? I don't want sex, or friendship, or "more"... but I will pay you $10/hr for tutoring and buy you beers at the Lex.
I have a midterm next week, help!
Friday, March 24, 2006
Resume (Confidential)
Objective
Girlfriend position with an interesting, attractive, 24-38 year old man that will build on prior success as a single woman and a long term girlfriend.
Relationship Experience
Single Woman in the City, Ltd., July 2001 – Present.
Single Woman
-- Posted personal ads on the internet resulting in the three highest dating periods in single woman's several year history
-- Wrote and edited personal ads and personal responses to numerous men; also wrote numerous interesting journal entries and short stories
-- Managed inside and outside dates including hiking, dinner, drinks, sleepovers, museum outings, plays, music, and weekend trips
-- Trained dates on etiquette through the use of role-plays, briefings, conversations, and emails
-- Developed strategic plan to enjoy life as single woman including painting, reading, running, yoga, writing, and movie watching
-- Managed life so that dating was not the only concentration
-- Maintained friendships with other single women, old boyfriends, some new acquaintances
Long-Term Girlfriend, Inc., April 1999 - July 2001
Long-Term Girlfriend
-- Consultant to boyfriend on wardrobe, cooking, and family relationship issues
-- Participated in numerous debates including politics, existentialism, religion, business, and toilet seat positions
-- Formulated and implemented dating plan including extensive hiking, breakfasts in bed, high levels of cuddling, and fun with friends and alone
-- Wrote and edited online and print love letters
-- Defined boundaries for success as an entity of my own, not the other half of boyfriend
-- Responsible for PR with our friends to ensure that we kept all friendships and enjoyed time apart
Volunteer Activities
Conversation partner for mother, some cleaning and cooking, massages, and love
Education
Life
References available after we become acquainted.
Girlfriend position with an interesting, attractive, 24-38 year old man that will build on prior success as a single woman and a long term girlfriend.
Relationship Experience
Single Woman in the City, Ltd., July 2001 – Present.
Single Woman
-- Posted personal ads on the internet resulting in the three highest dating periods in single woman's several year history
-- Wrote and edited personal ads and personal responses to numerous men; also wrote numerous interesting journal entries and short stories
-- Managed inside and outside dates including hiking, dinner, drinks, sleepovers, museum outings, plays, music, and weekend trips
-- Trained dates on etiquette through the use of role-plays, briefings, conversations, and emails
-- Developed strategic plan to enjoy life as single woman including painting, reading, running, yoga, writing, and movie watching
-- Managed life so that dating was not the only concentration
-- Maintained friendships with other single women, old boyfriends, some new acquaintances
Long-Term Girlfriend, Inc., April 1999 - July 2001
Long-Term Girlfriend
-- Consultant to boyfriend on wardrobe, cooking, and family relationship issues
-- Participated in numerous debates including politics, existentialism, religion, business, and toilet seat positions
-- Formulated and implemented dating plan including extensive hiking, breakfasts in bed, high levels of cuddling, and fun with friends and alone
-- Wrote and edited online and print love letters
-- Defined boundaries for success as an entity of my own, not the other half of boyfriend
-- Responsible for PR with our friends to ensure that we kept all friendships and enjoyed time apart
Volunteer Activities
Conversation partner for mother, some cleaning and cooking, massages, and love
Education
Life
References available after we become acquainted.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Greetings...
Greetings Earthwomen.
I am Kham from the planet Krobernorz. I have traveled many years to meet you. Fourteen of your years ago, our planet suffered a cataclysmic event, forever affecting our future. A race of opposite gender aliens has invaded Krobernorz and have mandated that they will destroy all of us unless we mate with them and become their girlfriends. Obviously, we are very confused.
I have been sent by my superiors to "date", and record the social interactions between your genders. Until recently on Korbernorz we had only one gender. I fear this "dating" will be a difficult task.
I seek your help. I have found your "Internet". Please help. You are our last hope.
I have assumed the shape of a high-temperature (hot) female human being and have taken up residence on Earth. My mission must not fail.
I am Kham from the planet Krobernorz. I have traveled many years to meet you. Fourteen of your years ago, our planet suffered a cataclysmic event, forever affecting our future. A race of opposite gender aliens has invaded Krobernorz and have mandated that they will destroy all of us unless we mate with them and become their girlfriends. Obviously, we are very confused.
I have been sent by my superiors to "date", and record the social interactions between your genders. Until recently on Korbernorz we had only one gender. I fear this "dating" will be a difficult task.
I seek your help. I have found your "Internet". Please help. You are our last hope.
I have assumed the shape of a high-temperature (hot) female human being and have taken up residence on Earth. My mission must not fail.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Dear Mr/Miss Spam Writer,
I know a mass posting is rude- but, you've been sending me so much spam lately, I haven't been able to respond to all of them. Besides- when I do respond, you seem to send me more spam. So here goes,
YesRead Phonics: hey man (or woman). I tried telling you before, I don't have kids! well, that I know of at least. But I was thinking, maybe I should take your free reading assessment. Will that let me know what if my kids will be blockheads?
Kevin Mitchell: You tricked me! You said the subject was 'The server was down,'
I was intrigued, only to find you really wanted to lengthen my penis. Have you seen me in the gym? I mean- adding three inches sounds appealing, but, my partner won't be impressed, I don't have one! I tried replying and telling you that. I know I didn't respond to your first 47 emails- but you really have me thinking
Jenna Meyer: So- 'you want to see me again?' oh fooled AGAIN- you wanna add three inches to my penis too! is it a one time shot- or can kevin do it then you, for a net gain of six inches to my penis? and- be honest- will you see me again if I don't add three inches? I hope you're not that shallow!
Customer Service: Clever, here I thought this was an email from amazon telling me my book on breeding rhino's in an urban environment had been shipped! But no- you wanted to give me a free PDA, er, sorry, a complimentary free PDA (fyi- thats redundant!) thanks- but I have a PDA.
SuckyBlond: You're such a vixen. You know you tease me. But I wonder if we ever did meet- if you'd just tell me to grow my penis three inches.
Brody Macklin: Hey dude! 'please don't take this personal' wow- so you're making money from this email! holy shit! how can I! is this like the bill gates will send you $1000 for testing their new email system? (which by the way I NEVER got!) yes you're right- I have been hesitant before to try one of these get rich quick schemes- but- your 119 emails may have changed my mind!
Bobbles: 'the hottest new toy in america' wow- this sounds kinky- can't wait! oh- bobble head dolls- how disappointing
Madeline_Peterson: you have every intention of getting me laid? is it ok that I probably need to grow my penis another three inches? They're 100% horny, 100% real, 100% amateur and 100% ready to fuck tonight? awesome! wait- tonight? no!!! this sucks! can we do it tomorrow! I can't tonight! I have way too much spam to respond to, for it to happen tonight.
thanks for all of your help and suggestions- especially the pictures of the hot nasty sluts- co workers love catching them on my screen!
take care-
YesRead Phonics: hey man (or woman). I tried telling you before, I don't have kids! well, that I know of at least. But I was thinking, maybe I should take your free reading assessment. Will that let me know what if my kids will be blockheads?
Kevin Mitchell: You tricked me! You said the subject was 'The server was down,'
I was intrigued, only to find you really wanted to lengthen my penis. Have you seen me in the gym? I mean- adding three inches sounds appealing, but, my partner won't be impressed, I don't have one! I tried replying and telling you that. I know I didn't respond to your first 47 emails- but you really have me thinking
Jenna Meyer: So- 'you want to see me again?' oh fooled AGAIN- you wanna add three inches to my penis too! is it a one time shot- or can kevin do it then you, for a net gain of six inches to my penis? and- be honest- will you see me again if I don't add three inches? I hope you're not that shallow!
Customer Service: Clever, here I thought this was an email from amazon telling me my book on breeding rhino's in an urban environment had been shipped! But no- you wanted to give me a free PDA, er, sorry, a complimentary free PDA (fyi- thats redundant!) thanks- but I have a PDA.
SuckyBlond: You're such a vixen. You know you tease me. But I wonder if we ever did meet- if you'd just tell me to grow my penis three inches.
Brody Macklin: Hey dude! 'please don't take this personal' wow- so you're making money from this email! holy shit! how can I! is this like the bill gates will send you $1000 for testing their new email system? (which by the way I NEVER got!) yes you're right- I have been hesitant before to try one of these get rich quick schemes- but- your 119 emails may have changed my mind!
Bobbles: 'the hottest new toy in america' wow- this sounds kinky- can't wait! oh- bobble head dolls- how disappointing
Madeline_Peterson: you have every intention of getting me laid? is it ok that I probably need to grow my penis another three inches? They're 100% horny, 100% real, 100% amateur and 100% ready to fuck tonight? awesome! wait- tonight? no!!! this sucks! can we do it tomorrow! I can't tonight! I have way too much spam to respond to, for it to happen tonight.
thanks for all of your help and suggestions- especially the pictures of the hot nasty sluts- co workers love catching them on my screen!
take care-
Sunday, March 19, 2006
pay The AMAZING _GIRL_!
now, for the first time ever, you have the opportunity to not only SEE, but to actually PAY the AMAZING _GIRL_! I can put together a computer from garbage! I can dance a really dumb dance! I can make microwave popcorn! I can design web sites! I can carry boxes! I can move furniture! I can feed fish without over-feeding them so as to leave too much food and soil the water with unsightly brown and/or green algaes! I can tie my own shoes, and yours, too! I can write much better than this, but it's 3AM! I can wash dishes really well! I can wait your table! I can tell you a really bad joke! I can run your store! I can tell you a better joke! I can walk your dog! I can clean your embarassingly grungy bathroom! I can hit you! I can introduce you to my alter-ego, the 31337 h4x0r sup4-\/aR3z p1mp n3ga7i/3 zer0! ph33r me! I can set the clock on your VCR, TiVO, DVD+R, or whatever you have! Step up, step, up, don't be shy! Come and PAY the AMAZING _GIRL_! Seriously, i'll do almost anything for money. I have experience in a lot of fields, honestly, but i'm out of a job right now. Make me an offer, tell me what you want me to do. I'm honestly the best at computer-type stuff and writing (yes, I promise, I write better than this), but i can carry heavy stuff without it hurting (or at least i'll act like it doesn't hurt) and i have retail sales experience. I've sold stuff on ebay, and i like building computers. I really must go to bed now, but seriously, i'll do like anything. Have a business or website you want promoted? i'll put on a funny outfit and parade around doing whatever to promote it. just lemme know. (you can see i'm getting tireder by the second here, so i'm off to bed).
OR, I can do nothing and you can pay me everything! (read previous blog post).
OR, I can do nothing and you can pay me everything! (read previous blog post).
Saturday, March 18, 2006
I Want Money!
Hi,
I want money.
I don't need it, just want it.
Will accept all kinds(pennies,hundred dollar bils,pesos,etc)
I have no skills nor desire to acquire any.
I have nothing to barter or sell.
Not willing to help you out around the house or help you move.
I am lazy and don't want to work, but still enjoy the finer things in life.
If you have any laying around, or want to go get a second job and just send me the check, let me know.
You can send it to my pay pal account as soon as you set one up for me.
Otherwise you can deliver it to my home.
No, I will not come pick it up.
We can set up monthly payments if it is more convenient for me, or you can just give me a lump sum.
I want money.
I don't need it, just want it.
Will accept all kinds(pennies,hundred dollar bils,pesos,etc)
I have no skills nor desire to acquire any.
I have nothing to barter or sell.
Not willing to help you out around the house or help you move.
I am lazy and don't want to work, but still enjoy the finer things in life.
If you have any laying around, or want to go get a second job and just send me the check, let me know.
You can send it to my pay pal account as soon as you set one up for me.
Otherwise you can deliver it to my home.
No, I will not come pick it up.
We can set up monthly payments if it is more convenient for me, or you can just give me a lump sum.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Living in a Closet Looking for Lilliputian Bed/Easy Chair
Hello--
On April 1, I will be moving into a walk-in closet and i need some small furniture to put into my "room". I am looking for a large children's mattress, a twin mattress or a thick twin futon pad. I would also love to find a small, comfy easy chair--the upholstered kind, maybe on rockers or a recliner, like my tiny grandma used to have.
I can't pay much (if I could, I wouldn't be living in a closet) but I can pick it up in a car after March. 31. Before March. 31 I can't pick anything up.
Thanks!
On April 1, I will be moving into a walk-in closet and i need some small furniture to put into my "room". I am looking for a large children's mattress, a twin mattress or a thick twin futon pad. I would also love to find a small, comfy easy chair--the upholstered kind, maybe on rockers or a recliner, like my tiny grandma used to have.
I can't pay much (if I could, I wouldn't be living in a closet) but I can pick it up in a car after March. 31. Before March. 31 I can't pick anything up.
Thanks!
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Stay in my stationwagon for cheap!
Here's the deal. I have a BIG lovely stationwagon with 5 cupholders, cloth interior, 6 tube hooka, large ash tray, leopard trash bag, and tinted windows.
This is a one person stationwagon rental. I am asking for $175.00 per month and all other expenses are paid. However, you are reponsible for washing the windshield, morning defrosting, and oil changes.
I work from 9:00am- 7:00pm weekdays......SO THE CAR-APARTMENT will not be available at those times for entertaining, sleeping, or cooking. Weekends are flexible.
The CAR-APARTMENT is furnished with a futon, one yellow pillow, a stuffed care-bear, and some left-over candy wrappers. (I like candy) Sometimes I like to leave my tenants snacks and such.
Of course you will have have to live/rent the CAR APARTMENT in my drive-way. It's quite nice and near the Berkeley Capus, 7-11, various neighborhood bars, and a laundromat. If you ask nicely I can even park my car at the laundromat so you have easy access to clean your clothing.
Bring your inverter and laptop and you can have a clear line of site shot of my 15dbi antenna with WPA-PSK encrypted wi-fi access.
This is a one person stationwagon rental. I am asking for $175.00 per month and all other expenses are paid. However, you are reponsible for washing the windshield, morning defrosting, and oil changes.
I work from 9:00am- 7:00pm weekdays......SO THE CAR-APARTMENT will not be available at those times for entertaining, sleeping, or cooking. Weekends are flexible.
The CAR-APARTMENT is furnished with a futon, one yellow pillow, a stuffed care-bear, and some left-over candy wrappers. (I like candy) Sometimes I like to leave my tenants snacks and such.
Of course you will have have to live/rent the CAR APARTMENT in my drive-way. It's quite nice and near the Berkeley Capus, 7-11, various neighborhood bars, and a laundromat. If you ask nicely I can even park my car at the laundromat so you have easy access to clean your clothing.
Bring your inverter and laptop and you can have a clear line of site shot of my 15dbi antenna with WPA-PSK encrypted wi-fi access.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
i have many brains, they think all at same time
I like you. I give you resume. Me talented person, management experience. Counting things, inventory. Control, yes, inventory control. I control it with great squeeze, manly squeeze. Inventory run away squeaking after how I control it. All inventory know how big man I am. I train students with no past experience in glory of design, project management. I teach willing grasshoppers use of programs. I coordinate in single bound, leap over feats of organization with encompassing gaze. I solidify all; all coalesce into shining units of genius under my power. All organized. All little parts counted for. All run smoothly.
I cheerful, chipper, orderly. Yes, everything run smoothly. I workhorse, stolid, superhuman. I have many brains, all work at same time. I genius at these things. I sit at reception desk, greet lawyers, clients. I peck away at keyboard sending seething rays of data into file management programs. I beautiful admin goddess. Epiphanies of organization, files leap into my hands and beg to be made sense of. Paper likes me. You want me.
You look at resume, I send you. You like. Speak soon. I like you.
I cheerful, chipper, orderly. Yes, everything run smoothly. I workhorse, stolid, superhuman. I have many brains, all work at same time. I genius at these things. I sit at reception desk, greet lawyers, clients. I peck away at keyboard sending seething rays of data into file management programs. I beautiful admin goddess. Epiphanies of organization, files leap into my hands and beg to be made sense of. Paper likes me. You want me.
You look at resume, I send you. You like. Speak soon. I like you.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Cars in the Sunset
You were the beautiful asian woman in the blue(?) car yelling sweet obscenities in my ear.
I was the smitten asian guy in the tan Corolla that almost hit you.
We both stopped and held eye contact for several seconds as you screamed your pretty head off. I thought I felt a spark. I was willing to take up your offer to teach me how to drive but didn't catch your info as you sped off. Coffee?
I was the smitten asian guy in the tan Corolla that almost hit you.
We both stopped and held eye contact for several seconds as you screamed your pretty head off. I thought I felt a spark. I was willing to take up your offer to teach me how to drive but didn't catch your info as you sped off. Coffee?
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Tweaker Flea Market!!
We were going through our house the other day (on day 12) and noticed that we have a lot of fabulous things we could sell for more of that crystalized nectar of the gods!! So...we're gonna' have a little sale.
EVERYTHING MUST GO---CHEAP CHEAP CHEAP!!!
Here are a few things we uncovered from the layers of graph paper and expired coupons:
-A gingerbread house made out of peanutbutter cookie dough ice cream. When the idea came upon us to construct this masterpiece it was (of course) too late to go to the store and actually get gingerbread. So, who cares if we used the kids breakfast, we gave them 50 cents for a Slim-Jim...to split.
-My neighbor's collection of empty cigarette packs from the last 3 weeks. This fine treasure consists of 63 boxes of GPCs. This one, I tell you, is a real find.
-A few strands of copper wiring I stole from a homeless guy sleeping outside Allstar Donuts.
-This pack of matches I found in the bottom drawer of my desk. This one is really useful, there are 3 whole matches left. They're a little sticky but sulfer doesn't go bad does it?
-A roll of toilet paper that fell in the toilet but now it's okay because it's dry.
-Some freak we brought home from a rave last week. This one is free.
-A re-wrapped blow pop. This one will be expensive because the gum is still there and hardly chewed.
-That bent fork I was trying to fix the thermostat with. (wow, that zap I got actually felt really good. On second thought, I'm not selling that one)
-Several pairs of dirty underwear. I don't know how many days I've worn each pair, or even if they're mine, but if you wash them no one will know. ;)
-1 pair of genuine converse high-tops from the late '80s. The duct tape on the toe is complimentary.
-1,286 Top Ramen proof of purchase labels.
-The phone number of this biker guy I met in Truckee last year who said he has some really good shit.
-Several broken light bulbs (they come in handy when you misplace your "devil's johnson")
-Little Johnny, he eats too much. And his box, I mean crib too.
-----Be there or be asleep.
EVERYTHING MUST GO---CHEAP CHEAP CHEAP!!!
Here are a few things we uncovered from the layers of graph paper and expired coupons:
-A gingerbread house made out of peanutbutter cookie dough ice cream. When the idea came upon us to construct this masterpiece it was (of course) too late to go to the store and actually get gingerbread. So, who cares if we used the kids breakfast, we gave them 50 cents for a Slim-Jim...to split.
-My neighbor's collection of empty cigarette packs from the last 3 weeks. This fine treasure consists of 63 boxes of GPCs. This one, I tell you, is a real find.
-A few strands of copper wiring I stole from a homeless guy sleeping outside Allstar Donuts.
-This pack of matches I found in the bottom drawer of my desk. This one is really useful, there are 3 whole matches left. They're a little sticky but sulfer doesn't go bad does it?
-A roll of toilet paper that fell in the toilet but now it's okay because it's dry.
-Some freak we brought home from a rave last week. This one is free.
-A re-wrapped blow pop. This one will be expensive because the gum is still there and hardly chewed.
-That bent fork I was trying to fix the thermostat with. (wow, that zap I got actually felt really good. On second thought, I'm not selling that one)
-Several pairs of dirty underwear. I don't know how many days I've worn each pair, or even if they're mine, but if you wash them no one will know. ;)
-1 pair of genuine converse high-tops from the late '80s. The duct tape on the toe is complimentary.
-1,286 Top Ramen proof of purchase labels.
-The phone number of this biker guy I met in Truckee last year who said he has some really good shit.
-Several broken light bulbs (they come in handy when you misplace your "devil's johnson")
-Little Johnny, he eats too much. And his box, I mean crib too.
-----Be there or be asleep.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Its Great to be a Cat
Normally, I couldn't be bothered with something as silly as this "It's great to be a man/It's great to be a woman" debate. Usually, I'd rather just sleep on the couch or scratch something.
But I feel compelled to offer my two cents.
<<>>
Sorry about that. Furball.
See, the real issue is this: it's great to be a cat. Male OR female--it doesn't matter.
For all of you "dog people" out there, I'll type slower so you can understand. It's...great...to...be....a...cat. Got it?
Here are some reasons why:
1. We sleep and eat all day while you work.
2. We know how to get on the internet (unlike dogs who are still trying to figure out the doorknob).
3. We have attitude. (Or, as some SOMA kitties like to say, "cattitude.")
4. Ladies: would you rather be described as a "sex kitten" or a "dog"?
5. What sound would you rather hear from your date: "mrrrow!" or "ruff!"?
6. We're civilized. We know how to savor our meals. (Unlike dogs, who mow through their entire bowl of food in five seconds. I mean, c'mon, do they even TASTE it?)
7. Would you rather be called a "hip cat" or a "sick puppy"?
8. Catnip. (Is there any "Dognip"? I don't think so...)
9. On the rare occasions a cat and dog are in the same room (assuming they get along), no one EVER blames a fart on the cat.
10. We don't "fetch." If we happen to chase after something you throw, it becomes OURS.
There are many, many more reasons, but I'm sure some dog owners' eyes are starting to glaze over, so I'll stop here.
Before I go, I'd like to give a quick "meow" out to Larry the Tabby in the Sunset. Sorry to hear about the neutering, man. You'll get used to it.
Sincerely,
Simon the cat
But I feel compelled to offer my two cents.
<<>>
Sorry about that. Furball.
See, the real issue is this: it's great to be a cat. Male OR female--it doesn't matter.
For all of you "dog people" out there, I'll type slower so you can understand. It's...great...to...be....a...cat. Got it?
Here are some reasons why:
1. We sleep and eat all day while you work.
2. We know how to get on the internet (unlike dogs who are still trying to figure out the doorknob).
3. We have attitude. (Or, as some SOMA kitties like to say, "cattitude.")
4. Ladies: would you rather be described as a "sex kitten" or a "dog"?
5. What sound would you rather hear from your date: "mrrrow!" or "ruff!"?
6. We're civilized. We know how to savor our meals. (Unlike dogs, who mow through their entire bowl of food in five seconds. I mean, c'mon, do they even TASTE it?)
7. Would you rather be called a "hip cat" or a "sick puppy"?
8. Catnip. (Is there any "Dognip"? I don't think so...)
9. On the rare occasions a cat and dog are in the same room (assuming they get along), no one EVER blames a fart on the cat.
10. We don't "fetch." If we happen to chase after something you throw, it becomes OURS.
There are many, many more reasons, but I'm sure some dog owners' eyes are starting to glaze over, so I'll stop here.
Before I go, I'd like to give a quick "meow" out to Larry the Tabby in the Sunset. Sorry to hear about the neutering, man. You'll get used to it.
Sincerely,
Simon the cat
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Ode to the Recruiter
Four months ago, I had time to relax
Oh some time off, free from e-mail from fax
Three months ago, I was still holding out
For that one perfect job, I still dreamt about
Two months ago, I was starting to find
No money for bills, and I longed for the grind
One month ago, I started to panic
Sent out more resumes! I became crazy and manic
So here’s to the recruiter, lord of my fate
Reader of the resume Keeper of the gate
Just one year ago, you were my best friend
Praising and fawning o'er the resumes I’d send
“We want you, we love you, you’ll be our new star!
You’re the brightest, the greatest, the best out here by far!”
But where are you now? Not a callback in months
While more and more “qualified” join the unemployed bunch
So I sit and obsess about typos and such
Did I get the right name? Did I bug you too much?
I rewrite, and I tweak, and I bullet and bold
“But we’ll keep this on file,” is all I’ve been told
I know I am qualified, I posses every skill
GO GETTER you say? I can and I will!
So I fax, and I mail, I network, I call
And talk about career fairs, I’ve been to them all
Oh Apple... Oh Netscape… Oh Adobe… and more…
I’d do anything to get my foot in the door
I’d die for some feedback, if you can’t bring me in
Do you see my bio amongst the hordes in the bin?
I just want to work, I don’t want to retreat
Please give me a chance, e-mail me, let’s meet!
Oh Dear Recruiter Gatekeeper of all,
Please do me a favor, please give me a call.
Project Manager, amateur poet, seeks position in the Internet or software industry.
Oh some time off, free from e-mail from fax
Three months ago, I was still holding out
For that one perfect job, I still dreamt about
Two months ago, I was starting to find
No money for bills, and I longed for the grind
One month ago, I started to panic
Sent out more resumes! I became crazy and manic
So here’s to the recruiter, lord of my fate
Reader of the resume Keeper of the gate
Just one year ago, you were my best friend
Praising and fawning o'er the resumes I’d send
“We want you, we love you, you’ll be our new star!
You’re the brightest, the greatest, the best out here by far!”
But where are you now? Not a callback in months
While more and more “qualified” join the unemployed bunch
So I sit and obsess about typos and such
Did I get the right name? Did I bug you too much?
I rewrite, and I tweak, and I bullet and bold
“But we’ll keep this on file,” is all I’ve been told
I know I am qualified, I posses every skill
GO GETTER you say? I can and I will!
So I fax, and I mail, I network, I call
And talk about career fairs, I’ve been to them all
Oh Apple... Oh Netscape… Oh Adobe… and more…
I’d do anything to get my foot in the door
I’d die for some feedback, if you can’t bring me in
Do you see my bio amongst the hordes in the bin?
I just want to work, I don’t want to retreat
Please give me a chance, e-mail me, let’s meet!
Oh Dear Recruiter Gatekeeper of all,
Please do me a favor, please give me a call.
Project Manager, amateur poet, seeks position in the Internet or software industry.
P0RN sucks
It's official: porn doesn't do it for me anymore...
...The orgasm took way too much effort. I almost laughed when watching one guy get placed in what must have been a terribly uncomfortable position, and I simultaneously was annoyed at how boring the whole thing was...
Source: this blog is so gay: P0RN Sucks
...The orgasm took way too much effort. I almost laughed when watching one guy get placed in what must have been a terribly uncomfortable position, and I simultaneously was annoyed at how boring the whole thing was...
Source: this blog is so gay: P0RN Sucks
Monday, March 06, 2006
Me Daydreaming Again
tarzan carry me on shoulder - me scream and squirm - me grab hanging vine, legs hugging tarzan face - tarzan grow stiff like jungle tree - tarzan snort and grunt - me beg jungle love - tarzan say good idea - tarzan throw me on bed of leaves- me hit tarzan with stick, call him beast - tarzan say "the beast is yet to come" - me laugh at stupid joke, get even hornier - tarzan peel off leopard skin - me smile - tarzan say "me bear, me dripping honeycomb" - me say "we'll work on the poetry later, now come here already" - tarzan leap - tarzan, me bounce like monkeys on trampoline - jungle animals frightened by ruckus - me hit high c note, tarzan melt like ice cream in microwave.
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Pre-relationship Agreement
The party of the first part (herein referred to as "she"), being of sound mind and pretty good body, agrees to the following with the party of the second part (herein referred to as "him"):
1. FULL DISCLOSURE: At the commencement of said relationship
(colloquially referred to as the "first date"), each party agrees to fully disclose any current girl/boyfriends, dependent children, bizarre religious beliefs, phobias, fears, social diseases, strange political affiliations, or currently active relationships with anyone else that have not yet been terminated.
Further, each party agrees to make known any deep-seated complexes and/or fanatical obsessions with pets, careers, and/or organized sports. Failure to make these disclosures will result in the immediate termination of said relationship before it has a chance to get anywhere.
2. INDEMNIFICATION OF FRIENDS: Both parties agree to hold the person who arranged the liaison (colloquially referred to as the "matchmaker") blameless in the event that the "fix-up" turns out to be a "real loser" or "psycho bitch". (For definition of "real loser", see "John DeLorean My Story", available at most bookstores, or any picture of Bob Guccione in "Penthouse". For definition of "psycho bitch," see Sharon Stone in "Basic Instinct" or Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction.")
3. DEFINITION OF RELATIONSHIP: Should said relationship proceed past the first date, both parties mutually agree to use the following terminology in describing their said "dating": For the first thirty (30) days, both parties consent to say they are "going out". (This neither implies nor states any guarantee of exclusivity.) Following the first thirty 30) days, both parties may say they are "seeing somebody" and may be referred to by third parties as "an item". Sixty (60) days following the commencement of the first date, either member may elect to use the terms "girl/boyfriend" or "lover" and their mutual acquaintances may refer to them as "a couple". Under no circumstances are the phrases "my better half," "the little woman," "the old ball and chain," or "my old man/lady" acceptable. Furthermore, if both members consent, this timetable may be sped up; however, if either party "gets too serious" and disregards this schedule, the other party may dissolve the relationship on the grounds of "moving too fast" and may once again be said to be "on the market."
4. TERMS OF EXCLUSIVITY: For the first thirty (30) days, both parties agree not to ask questions about the other's whereabouts on weekends, weeknights, or over long holiday periods. No unreasonable demands or expectations will be made; "rights" or "holds" on the other's time. Following the first six weeks or forty-five (45) days, if one party continues to be "missing in action" the "wounded party" agrees to "give up".
5. DATING ETIQUETTE: For the first thirty (30) days, both members of the couple agree to be overly considerate of the other's work pressures, schedules, and business ambitions. All dates will be made at least twenty-four(24) hours in advance; there will be no "running off in the middle of the night to console an old girl/boyfriend", and both parties agree to strike the phrase "but he/she needs me" from their vocabularies. Further, during the first six (6) weeks each member of said relationship agrees to attempt one spontaneous home-cooked meal or to arrange the delivery of at least one unexpected bouquet of flowers.
Following the first forty-five (45) days, both parties will return to their normal personalities.
6. TERMS OF PAYMENT: It is agreed that -- respective gross income aside "he" will pick up the tab at all dinners, clubs, theaters, and breakfasts until: He considers her suitably impressed, He is broke, or He says, "this is ridiculous, you pay!" Not included in this agreement are meals ordered from the bedroom, which are subject to the availability of discretionary funds on hand at the time.
7. LIVING ARRANGEMENTS (occasionally known as the "Why do I bother to keep my own apartment?" codicil): Should said relationship progress to the point where the couple spends more than four nights a week together, every effort shall be made to split the time between their respective apartments. Further, it is agreed that both sides will attempt to silence the lewd remarks of landlords, or roommates. Both will avoid having their mothers call at 7:30 in the morning. He agrees to "pick up after himself" while in residence at her apartment, including washing his whiskers out of the sink, and assisting with household duties. By the same token, she agrees to respect his right to keep his apartment "a mess".
8. THE 90-DAY GRACE PERIOD: For the first three months, each member of the phrases couple agrees to hold the other blameless in the euphoric use of like "Let's move in together," "Why don't we start a family?" and – using archaic terminology -- "Let's get married."
9. THE "L" WORD: For the first sixty (60) days, both parties agree not to use the phrase "I love you." They may love plants, dogs, cats, cars, concerts, or the way a particular pair of jeans fits, but not each other. Failure by one party to abide by this rule will result in the other party using the "G" word ... "Gone."
10. GROUNDS FOR TERMINATION: Any of the following will be grounds for immediate termination and final dissolution of said relationship:
Infidelity: Running off at any time to console an ex-girl/boyfriend, ending any argument with the sentence "My ex used to do that same ...."
1. FULL DISCLOSURE: At the commencement of said relationship
(colloquially referred to as the "first date"), each party agrees to fully disclose any current girl/boyfriends, dependent children, bizarre religious beliefs, phobias, fears, social diseases, strange political affiliations, or currently active relationships with anyone else that have not yet been terminated.
Further, each party agrees to make known any deep-seated complexes and/or fanatical obsessions with pets, careers, and/or organized sports. Failure to make these disclosures will result in the immediate termination of said relationship before it has a chance to get anywhere.
2. INDEMNIFICATION OF FRIENDS: Both parties agree to hold the person who arranged the liaison (colloquially referred to as the "matchmaker") blameless in the event that the "fix-up" turns out to be a "real loser" or "psycho bitch". (For definition of "real loser", see "John DeLorean My Story", available at most bookstores, or any picture of Bob Guccione in "Penthouse". For definition of "psycho bitch," see Sharon Stone in "Basic Instinct" or Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction.")
3. DEFINITION OF RELATIONSHIP: Should said relationship proceed past the first date, both parties mutually agree to use the following terminology in describing their said "dating": For the first thirty (30) days, both parties consent to say they are "going out". (This neither implies nor states any guarantee of exclusivity.) Following the first thirty 30) days, both parties may say they are "seeing somebody" and may be referred to by third parties as "an item". Sixty (60) days following the commencement of the first date, either member may elect to use the terms "girl/boyfriend" or "lover" and their mutual acquaintances may refer to them as "a couple". Under no circumstances are the phrases "my better half," "the little woman," "the old ball and chain," or "my old man/lady" acceptable. Furthermore, if both members consent, this timetable may be sped up; however, if either party "gets too serious" and disregards this schedule, the other party may dissolve the relationship on the grounds of "moving too fast" and may once again be said to be "on the market."
4. TERMS OF EXCLUSIVITY: For the first thirty (30) days, both parties agree not to ask questions about the other's whereabouts on weekends, weeknights, or over long holiday periods. No unreasonable demands or expectations will be made; "rights" or "holds" on the other's time. Following the first six weeks or forty-five (45) days, if one party continues to be "missing in action" the "wounded party" agrees to "give up".
5. DATING ETIQUETTE: For the first thirty (30) days, both members of the couple agree to be overly considerate of the other's work pressures, schedules, and business ambitions. All dates will be made at least twenty-four(24) hours in advance; there will be no "running off in the middle of the night to console an old girl/boyfriend", and both parties agree to strike the phrase "but he/she needs me" from their vocabularies. Further, during the first six (6) weeks each member of said relationship agrees to attempt one spontaneous home-cooked meal or to arrange the delivery of at least one unexpected bouquet of flowers.
Following the first forty-five (45) days, both parties will return to their normal personalities.
6. TERMS OF PAYMENT: It is agreed that -- respective gross income aside "he" will pick up the tab at all dinners, clubs, theaters, and breakfasts until: He considers her suitably impressed, He is broke, or He says, "this is ridiculous, you pay!" Not included in this agreement are meals ordered from the bedroom, which are subject to the availability of discretionary funds on hand at the time.
7. LIVING ARRANGEMENTS (occasionally known as the "Why do I bother to keep my own apartment?" codicil): Should said relationship progress to the point where the couple spends more than four nights a week together, every effort shall be made to split the time between their respective apartments. Further, it is agreed that both sides will attempt to silence the lewd remarks of landlords, or roommates. Both will avoid having their mothers call at 7:30 in the morning. He agrees to "pick up after himself" while in residence at her apartment, including washing his whiskers out of the sink, and assisting with household duties. By the same token, she agrees to respect his right to keep his apartment "a mess".
8. THE 90-DAY GRACE PERIOD: For the first three months, each member of the phrases couple agrees to hold the other blameless in the euphoric use of like "Let's move in together," "Why don't we start a family?" and – using archaic terminology -- "Let's get married."
9. THE "L" WORD: For the first sixty (60) days, both parties agree not to use the phrase "I love you." They may love plants, dogs, cats, cars, concerts, or the way a particular pair of jeans fits, but not each other. Failure by one party to abide by this rule will result in the other party using the "G" word ... "Gone."
10. GROUNDS FOR TERMINATION: Any of the following will be grounds for immediate termination and final dissolution of said relationship:
Infidelity: Running off at any time to console an ex-girl/boyfriend, ending any argument with the sentence "My ex used to do that same ...."
Friday, March 03, 2006
Ode To Men
I love men for their strength. Sometimes it is that vein that bulges on the upper part of their foremarm. Sometimes it is the way they heft a tire out of the trunk – something I can never do without making it a major production. Sometimes, it is the way the tense their jaw and remain silent when their wife or girlfriend or mother is nagging and acting bitchy and close-to-hysterical, for no real reason (and never asking “Is it your time of the month?” even when they know it is). Always, it is the way that they get up and pad through the darkened house to see what that noise was, or stand in front of their girl when scary tough guys are approaching too fast or talking too loud and crude.
I love men for the way they give up everything but themselves for love (hanging onto their self is a form of their strength). How they worry during the day, is the guy driving her to that meeting a safe driver? Will she wear her seatbelt? How they stop me from crossing into traffic with a reflexive forearm. How they smile at me, eyes so bright, when I talk about some big success I had. How they get turned on when I win. How they try to think of ways to make their women more successful, and watch proudly from the sidelines. How they will stare, openly and with unabashed admiration, at a woman they admire and want to know better. How being in love makes them want to be better men. How they will willingly make a fool of themselves to get the ‘right’ girl to notice. How they kick themselves when they pass up the opportunity to make a fool of themselves, and the girl disappears. How they will pick up the phone, or walk over in a bar, and say something, anything - - knowing they might be rejected by the girl they are interested in but taking the risk anyway. How they hate to see a girl cry, no matter what.
I love men for the way they throw their all into sex – body and soul. How they get so much pleasure from giving a woman pleasure. How they don’t wonder if they look fat or ugly when they are naked. How they like to have sex with the lights on. How they can make any woman feel desirable and beautiful, if only she will stop judging herself and let him. How they like to look right into a woman’s eyes while making love. How pleading and slightly abashed they are before knowing they will get sex. Their single minded purpose in getting me to say yes, because of their confidence in the pleasure to be had. Their ability to focus on the pleasure alone, for it’s own worthy sake. How they fall in love a little bit every time they have sex. How they are so happy after sex, their defenses down, their outlook positive.
I love men for their beautiful bodies – they way the hair can grow thick on their arms. Their broad shoulders, and their tapering waists. Their rough palms, their broad fingernails, the way their hands can look both elegant and capable. Their cute butts –just like when they are babies, sometimes with downy fuzz. Their big masculine feet. Their comfortableness with being naked. Their unself-consciousness about the size of their penis. How noncommittal they are about their testicles – an endless source of masculine mystery to a woman. Their pretty eyelashes and seductive eyes. The way they hardly ever look into the mirror - even the most beautiful ones. The way they walk. Their ease with their bodies. Their optimism about their physical gifts, their refusal to brood on their less-than-perfect physical traits. Their smiling acceptance of their flaws, confident that they can overcome them with their better points.
I love to watch men eat. They never say, “this is too rich,” or “I really shouldn’t” or “this is going straight to my thigh”, even if all of these things might accurately describe the food and/or it’s effects. They just eat.
I love the way men give all of their attention to the things they are interested in. The way they can focus utterly on televised sport, driving the girlfriends and wives insane with their perfect indifference to their feminine companions (the game will soon be over and she’ll still be here, right? why miss the game?). The way they are puzzled that their girlfriends and wives can think attention to baseball or football or soccer takes anything away from their love of a woman. The way they can work hard and play hard. The way they refuse to be martyrs for their jobs. The way they channel surf for sports scores.
Most of all I love the way men love women. The way they indulge women’s endless obsession with ‘imperfections’ and often love the object of the woman’s insecurity and disdain – a large butt, a bit of a tummy, soft thighs. How they can generously see something attractive in almost any woman. How their attention is so often more directed to the woman than to themselves. How they eroticize the humble and bizarre – the arch of the foot, the space behind the knee, the collarbone, the muscles of the lower back. How very much they appreciate it when a pretty girl smiles at them. How they admire intelligence and strength and beauty and independence in a woman – the whole package. But how they can also love vulnerability and insecurity in that same woman. How they can let bygones be bygones – and really not need to ‘talk it out’, not because he’s uncommunicative but because he won’t hold minor things against the girl or the relationship. He just won’t. How he will ‘talk it out’ if she insists, even though he’s forgiven her and knows that he deserves to be forgiven, because it makes her feel better. How he will make sure the oil is changed and the smog inspection is up to date, because she never thinks to do it. How he will admire her in sexy expensive shoes and a great leather skirt but also admire her barefoot in a white tank top and jeans. How he likes women without makeup. How he likes women who are wearing too much makeup. How he can look at me speculatively in the check out line in the grocery store even when I’m wearing baggy sweat pants and flip flops. How he doesn’t weigh himself more than once every three months or so and always guesses that woman weighs about 15 lbs less than she actually does. How he loves the things we can’t take credit for - breasts, the curve from bust to hip, hips.
I love men. I just love them! Thank you, men.
I love men for the way they give up everything but themselves for love (hanging onto their self is a form of their strength). How they worry during the day, is the guy driving her to that meeting a safe driver? Will she wear her seatbelt? How they stop me from crossing into traffic with a reflexive forearm. How they smile at me, eyes so bright, when I talk about some big success I had. How they get turned on when I win. How they try to think of ways to make their women more successful, and watch proudly from the sidelines. How they will stare, openly and with unabashed admiration, at a woman they admire and want to know better. How being in love makes them want to be better men. How they will willingly make a fool of themselves to get the ‘right’ girl to notice. How they kick themselves when they pass up the opportunity to make a fool of themselves, and the girl disappears. How they will pick up the phone, or walk over in a bar, and say something, anything - - knowing they might be rejected by the girl they are interested in but taking the risk anyway. How they hate to see a girl cry, no matter what.
I love men for the way they throw their all into sex – body and soul. How they get so much pleasure from giving a woman pleasure. How they don’t wonder if they look fat or ugly when they are naked. How they like to have sex with the lights on. How they can make any woman feel desirable and beautiful, if only she will stop judging herself and let him. How they like to look right into a woman’s eyes while making love. How pleading and slightly abashed they are before knowing they will get sex. Their single minded purpose in getting me to say yes, because of their confidence in the pleasure to be had. Their ability to focus on the pleasure alone, for it’s own worthy sake. How they fall in love a little bit every time they have sex. How they are so happy after sex, their defenses down, their outlook positive.
I love men for their beautiful bodies – they way the hair can grow thick on their arms. Their broad shoulders, and their tapering waists. Their rough palms, their broad fingernails, the way their hands can look both elegant and capable. Their cute butts –just like when they are babies, sometimes with downy fuzz. Their big masculine feet. Their comfortableness with being naked. Their unself-consciousness about the size of their penis. How noncommittal they are about their testicles – an endless source of masculine mystery to a woman. Their pretty eyelashes and seductive eyes. The way they hardly ever look into the mirror - even the most beautiful ones. The way they walk. Their ease with their bodies. Their optimism about their physical gifts, their refusal to brood on their less-than-perfect physical traits. Their smiling acceptance of their flaws, confident that they can overcome them with their better points.
I love to watch men eat. They never say, “this is too rich,” or “I really shouldn’t” or “this is going straight to my thigh”, even if all of these things might accurately describe the food and/or it’s effects. They just eat.
I love the way men give all of their attention to the things they are interested in. The way they can focus utterly on televised sport, driving the girlfriends and wives insane with their perfect indifference to their feminine companions (the game will soon be over and she’ll still be here, right? why miss the game?). The way they are puzzled that their girlfriends and wives can think attention to baseball or football or soccer takes anything away from their love of a woman. The way they can work hard and play hard. The way they refuse to be martyrs for their jobs. The way they channel surf for sports scores.
Most of all I love the way men love women. The way they indulge women’s endless obsession with ‘imperfections’ and often love the object of the woman’s insecurity and disdain – a large butt, a bit of a tummy, soft thighs. How they can generously see something attractive in almost any woman. How their attention is so often more directed to the woman than to themselves. How they eroticize the humble and bizarre – the arch of the foot, the space behind the knee, the collarbone, the muscles of the lower back. How very much they appreciate it when a pretty girl smiles at them. How they admire intelligence and strength and beauty and independence in a woman – the whole package. But how they can also love vulnerability and insecurity in that same woman. How they can let bygones be bygones – and really not need to ‘talk it out’, not because he’s uncommunicative but because he won’t hold minor things against the girl or the relationship. He just won’t. How he will ‘talk it out’ if she insists, even though he’s forgiven her and knows that he deserves to be forgiven, because it makes her feel better. How he will make sure the oil is changed and the smog inspection is up to date, because she never thinks to do it. How he will admire her in sexy expensive shoes and a great leather skirt but also admire her barefoot in a white tank top and jeans. How he likes women without makeup. How he likes women who are wearing too much makeup. How he can look at me speculatively in the check out line in the grocery store even when I’m wearing baggy sweat pants and flip flops. How he doesn’t weigh himself more than once every three months or so and always guesses that woman weighs about 15 lbs less than she actually does. How he loves the things we can’t take credit for - breasts, the curve from bust to hip, hips.
I love men. I just love them! Thank you, men.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Foreplay - A Reader's Guide
Do not give me five minutes
with your fingers twisting at my nipples. No,
that will not do at all. Nor do I want
an assault on my nether regions, your breath
vehement and alcoholic at my ear. My GOD,
what do you think I am, a vending machine? I need time, dear lover,
time to get comfortable, time to get horizontal, time to get my juices optimal.
I would never, unless under extreme urgency like a flood coming or the Spanish
Inquisition (or parents in the other room) tear at your belt buckle, hoist your cock out of its
Hanes shell, and mount. Well, maybe I would but that’s just after the beginning,
after the Victorian courting procedures involving lengthy emails and simmering
innuendo, after first and second and third base have been stolen in
back seats and late-night booty calls, after movies and dinners and after you have kissed me
long and hard. Then maybe I will approve of this batten-down-the-hatches
sex I know you love, that whoa-nelly-a-storm’s-a-brewin’ fucking
that makes us dash indoors like the skittish breeders we are.
Then it’s alright to twist and pin and squirm and squint and truncate what might be
in the night, to you, an overlong procedure.
Not now, though, or ever if we can make this work accordingly.
Because it is this that keeps me awake at night, shimmying
like a hula girl on a humming dashboard. A thumb drawing, meticulously,
the curve made by a juxtaposing hip. The timid orchid scent of an opening eyelid.
The musk convinced out of the pre-dawn sheets,
when we wake and are awakened by the waking.
Your hunger coupled with my hunger coupled with the music
we are capable of orchestrating, and the beauty of the metronome in all of that.
The conversation your tongue could make with my lower back. What I would do
if given the time to articulate the syllables
resting in your collarbone.
with your fingers twisting at my nipples. No,
that will not do at all. Nor do I want
an assault on my nether regions, your breath
vehement and alcoholic at my ear. My GOD,
what do you think I am, a vending machine? I need time, dear lover,
time to get comfortable, time to get horizontal, time to get my juices optimal.
I would never, unless under extreme urgency like a flood coming or the Spanish
Inquisition (or parents in the other room) tear at your belt buckle, hoist your cock out of its
Hanes shell, and mount. Well, maybe I would but that’s just after the beginning,
after the Victorian courting procedures involving lengthy emails and simmering
innuendo, after first and second and third base have been stolen in
back seats and late-night booty calls, after movies and dinners and after you have kissed me
long and hard. Then maybe I will approve of this batten-down-the-hatches
sex I know you love, that whoa-nelly-a-storm’s-a-brewin’ fucking
that makes us dash indoors like the skittish breeders we are.
Then it’s alright to twist and pin and squirm and squint and truncate what might be
in the night, to you, an overlong procedure.
Not now, though, or ever if we can make this work accordingly.
Because it is this that keeps me awake at night, shimmying
like a hula girl on a humming dashboard. A thumb drawing, meticulously,
the curve made by a juxtaposing hip. The timid orchid scent of an opening eyelid.
The musk convinced out of the pre-dawn sheets,
when we wake and are awakened by the waking.
Your hunger coupled with my hunger coupled with the music
we are capable of orchestrating, and the beauty of the metronome in all of that.
The conversation your tongue could make with my lower back. What I would do
if given the time to articulate the syllables
resting in your collarbone.
