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Archive for December, 2000

|| December 19, 2000 || 8:03 am || Comments (1) ||

Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m the girl who despises country music.

Welllllll, okay, I dig innovators and bad boys, so I wholeheartedly groove on Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, John Anderson, Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, K. T. Oslin and Willie Nelson (listen to his music sometime….his songwriting ability rivals and defeats most any of the modern-day ‘greats’ and if you listen past the twang, who wouldn’t KILL for a voice like that??) I even dig Olivia Newton-John’s earliest offerings, which were very country….I DARE you to listen to ‘Please Mister Please’ and not be moved to sing along. But the rest of them, especially modern country ‘artists’ (I loudly object to confusing the terms artist and performer, ya know?) can go blow a goat, with the exclusion of Travis Tritt.

That having been said, I can tell you what I was gonna tell you now.

I was listening to the local country music station this morning while taking offspring #1 and #2 to school (they are so fucking spoiled…why don’t I make them ride the bus instead of freezing my tits off and glaring at other drivers through my crusty lids??). ***IS TODAY PARENTHESIS DAY, OR WHAT*** They tend to give the most accurate and frequent weather reports, which scores them regular non-listeners like me.

I’m getting to the point of this story, trust me.

Here comes a song to interrupt the reporting. It was a Christmas tune. It was a Christmas tune that really pissed me off, almost as much as it pisses me off when people use the term “x-mas”; and that one really goes all over me, let me tell you.

The song was about a dirty little impoverished boy who comes into a store to buy a pair of women’s shoes. (harhar, please refrain from making the obvious joke, you turds) for his sickly and dying mother. It seems that the boy and his father want mama to look purty iffin she goes ta meet JEEzus tahnite. To quote a pal, “Just give me one big fucking break!!”

Number one, the cheese factor is unrivaled here. Number two, I love the fact that the old ‘poor and slovenly’ cliche was used. Let me tell you people something….my grandmother, God rest her saintly soul, was DIRT poor most of her 84 years, but a speck of dirt was remiss to cross her path. She put it on it’s merry way right quick. She used to tell us, “It’s no sin to GET dirty, but it sure is one to STAY dirty.” Number three, I hardly think that what she’s wearing is gonna matter two whits to the Immaculately Conceived One. Number four, if she ain’t awready purty, shoes ain’t gonna do the trick and number five-o, (and this is the biggest pisser of all) WHY, for fuck’s sake, whywhyWHY would you WAIT until someone is dying to give them something that could have brought them pleasure while they lived??

I would like to punch the person in the throat that wrote this utterly moronic song as a lame tug at heartstrings. I am waving the giant birdfinger at their dumb asses and they shall be without beer and sausages forevermore! So sayeth the JettGrrrl!

I know you’re dying to know…the song is “Christmas Shoes” and the group is NewSong. Send them hate mail. Send them my URL. Tell them to bitch-slap whoever is responsible (including themselves) for this musical cheesewad and make them promise to never, never do it again. I implore you.

|| December 18, 2000 || 4:48 pm || Comments (0) ||

Ohhhhh, looky! Unx is here!

*throws confetti*

No worries, this is a shall-friendly site. >;oD

|| December 18, 2000 || 4:45 pm || Comments (0) ||

A good daddy and his only son dead. The rest of his family in the hospital. It’s one week before Christmas. This makes me cry.

The count is at 12 for dead, Idunnohowmany for wounded, and lots of people lost everything. What they didn’t lose they had to watch ruin under a couple inches of snow with the promise of more moving in. I wonder how the holidays will affect those that were involved. Will they feel blessed to still be here? Will they always have a heavy cloud hanging over this time of year, will everyone else’s festivities grate them?

I still twitch at the fact that it was so close. James Crowder was my husband’s age, who is also a good dad. Their family was the inverse of ours, two girls and one boy. The only namesake gone. At Christmastime.


|| December 18, 2000 || 3:13 am || Comments (0) ||

So I get this invite in my email

–am I coming in clear? Is this thing on? Can you copy that?

this invite in my email, and it’s to this great party
you know those parties, those great parties that everyone wants to be in and you’re never invited to

And I freeze up for a bit because whatever shall I wear?

What if I say “shall” in a sentence?

Men have been put to death for that.

So I face my fears and dive right in:

  • Get your randomly-generated Wacky Sentence right here!
  • For you llama-lovers, here’s Ten Tips For New Llama Owners!Remember kids, “Don’t buy babies younger than 4 or 5 months!”
    || December 16, 2000 || 11:11 pm || Comments (0) ||

    I am sickened.

    It was pretty close mile-wise. It’s even closer fear-wise.

    It could have been me and mine. Say a prayer. More later.

    || December 15, 2000 || 10:57 pm || Comments (0) ||

    Uhhh, hi.

    Reading chum’s journal-thingy made me sad tonight. Made me really sad. I can’t really put my finger on why. If he reads this, I’m sure he’ll get it. He’s special like that—has the whole insight thing pretty down for someone so young. Mayhap that is why he is bored with his courtiers.*chumster, any thoughts on this??*

    I really hope that I wasn’t one of the parties that he was referring to. I hope that he still likes my dance. Isn’t that sick and sad? It sounds that way on the surface, I suppose. You’ve got to look deeper, though. There are few people that I respect in a wholesome way/look up to. This cat has a great intellect and wit and seemingly possesses an affection for people that I could never muster. He tries to bury that light under the bushel of sarcasm, but it’s there and I for one can see it.

    I haven’t been blogging as much lately. And certainly the content mostly blows now. Someone e-mailed me yesterday and said I seem ’subdued’. You know what, Will? You’re right. I do. Please allow me to explain in this very public of forums; and Jesus-please-us please let me put to rest the suggestion you had as to why. Good assumption, but one that is way off the mark.

    I started this thing for me. You see, I hadn’t been devoting the time to any organized creative output beyond business-related stuff, and creativity for creativity’s sake is the most cathartic and rewarding kind. Don’t get me wrong, I am glad that I can get paid for something I enjoy, but sometimes it turns into a washout and you cut corners to get over just a tad bit more. Then it sort of taints your output and things aren’t so shiny and terrific anymore. ANYONE CATCHING THIS TRAIN OF THOUGHT, HUH???

    So as I said/say/am saying, I started this for me and did it for me and was pleasantly surprised to find a had a small readership with a decent intellectual capacity. And don’t get me started on the fact that I discovered that I was not alone in some of my most out-there obloquies, opinions and thoughts.

    I tend not even to scratch the surface out here. Some of you who know me and correspond with me know that. There are parts to all of us that remain only our own knowledge, even in the presence of those nearest and dearest to us. This is what defines one’s self. Obviously, as this is a public forum, (even though only barely public…) I don’t completely flay myself open or really even point to my exposed jugular. I have said it before and I shall say it again. PEOPLE WILL SUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKING DRY AND THEN WHINE AT YOU TEN YEARS’ WORTH OF SUNDAYS WHEN YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY GIVE THEM ANY FUCKING MORE. It’s true. You heard it here first. I write to amuse myself first and foremost, but I would be a lying-ass bitch to say it didn’t amuse me to amuse you. And you, and you. And you, over there in the corner…yes, YOU, ya little cutie.

    I have so much to share. Or maybe reword that to say ’so much I could share’….but I dunno. I just don’t know.

    I could swear up and down all day that “Oh, ya know, holidays….so effing busy and time-crazed…wah-WAH-wah, wuh, WUH-wuh, wuh. Not to mention blahblahdyblah-blah and such.” Bullshit, and I won’t pour it on you. I like most of you far too much to fake it.

    When I wrote the piece regarding my cousin, I tapped into the most real me that there is. You all seemed to catch that. I got TONS of e-mail, even from people that I never had a clue existed: “….and you don’t know me, but I have been reading you for a while. I finally had to break down and let you know that you really get to me sometimes…”. Whaaaaaa? I have readers in motherfucking BELGIUM???


    So I back off. I shut down. Whoaaaaa, some distance, fellow commuters, please! I am contagious, okay???

    Please don’t take this as I sign that I never want to hear from you people. Humanity just makes me nervous. Lots of people out there are unpredictable (don’t get me wrong, unpredictable is good at times) and atrociously, unforgivably stupid. I am quite pleased to know that people who come here, no matter how few, are intelligent and thoughtful and sincere and comically self-effacing. I like their input, be it commentary, suggestion or hapless sexual innuendo (just kidding about that last one, the air was just getting sorta heavy in here).

    The long and the short of it is that I am growing, and I feel a time coming that I may just lay it all out there. It’s all been itching in the back of my brain for a few moons now and I am growing dissatisfied with all else.

    SO, if you dare, if you care, hang around and sooner or later we’ll play scratch and sniff with my brain. Consider your dumbass self warned.

    And oh yeah, fuck every last one of you. >:oD

    Just idly clicking away when I ended up on Amazon. ~why did they name themselves after a large, freakstrong, one-breasted woman warrior??~ HMMMM? Then I was clicking away some more and ended up on the entry for the Anarchist’s Cookbook.

    If you scroll on down the page there, you will notice that the author of the book, William Powell, has attached a statement. Please, don’t strain yourself. I have copied it verbatim for you, and here it byGod is:

    The author, William Powell , January 25, 2000

    Author would like to see publication discontinued.

    I have recently been made aware of several websites that focus on The Anarchist Cookbook. As the author of the original publication some 30 plus years ago, it is appropriate for me to comment.
    The Anarchist Cookbook was written during 1968 and part of 1969 soon after I graduated from high school. At the time, I was 19 years old and the Vietnam War and the so-called “counter culture movement” were at their height. I was involved in the anti-war movement and attended numerous peace rallies and demonstrations. The book, in many respects, was a misguided product of my adolescent anger at the prospect of being drafted and sent to Vietnam to fight in a war that I did not believe in.

    I conducted the research for the manuscript on my own, primarily at the New York City Public Library. Most of the contents were gleaned from Military and Special Forces Manuals. I was not member of any radical group of either a left or right wing persuasion.

    I submitted the manuscript directly to a number of publishers without the help or advice of an agent. Ultimately, it was accepted by Lyle Stuart Inc. and was published verbatim – without editing – in early 1970. Contrary to what is the normal custom, the copyright for the book was taken out in the name of the publisher rather than the author. I did not appreciate the significance of this at the time and would only come to understand it some years later when I requested that the book be taken out of print.

    The central idea to the book was that violence is an acceptable means to bring about political change. I no longer agree with this.

    Apparently in recent years, The Anarchist Cookbook has seen a number of ‘copy cat’ type publications, some with remarkably similar titles (Anarchist Cookbook II, III etc). I am not familiar with these publications and cannot comment upon them. I can say that the original Anarchist Cookbook has not been revised or updated in any way by me since it was first published.

    During the years that followed its publication, I went to university, married, became a father and a teacher of adolescents. These developments had a profound moral and spiritual effect on me. I found that I no longer agreed with what I had written earlier and I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the ideas that I had put my name to. In 1976 I became a confirmed Anglican Christian and shortly thereafter I wrote to Lyle Stuart Inc. explaining that I no longer held the views that were expressed in the book and requested that The Anarchist Cookbook be taken out of print. The response from the publisher was that the copyright was in his name and therefore such a decision was his to make – not the author’s. In the early 1980’s, the rights for the book were sold to another publisher. I have had no contact with that publisher (other than to request that the book be taken out of print) and I receive no royalties.

    Unfortunately, the book continues to be in print and with the advent of the Internet several websites dealing with it have emerged. I want to state categorically that I am not in agreement with the contents of The Anarchist Cookbook and I would be very pleased (and relieved) to see its publication discontinued. I consider it to be a misguided and potentially dangerous publication which should be taken out of print.

    William Powell

    Hmmmm. I really don’t know what to make of this, and normally I am able to size a situation up accurately within a fairly quick amount of time. I don’t know which idea/ideal/conspiracy/plan/outlook/belief/snow job to grasp hold of and call my very own. Just when you think that you’re grown……well…..so here we are. Pleased to meet you, Mr. New Perspective, Miss Gradual Change. Kind of freaked out that you fucking snuck up behind me, but I can be gracious In Spite Of. I’m way hip and bitchin’ like that. Yo.

    Hey….just what the fuck am I talking ABOUT??

    Mathias Arnold III writes KICK-ASS reviews. It appears that Mr. Arnold has lots of free time on his hands, which he spends by cruising Amazon and writing painfully funny reviews of various items available for purchase on the site. Bully, old boy!!

    Damn, that Twix was gooooooood…..haven’t had one of ‘em in a long time. Nummins.