So after the kitchen was destroyed and everyone was lounging with full bellies and much booze, the cheesy movie marathon started. First we watched the Thanksgiving classic, Cannibal the Musical. Nothing like cannibalism as portrayed by the South park dudes to cap off a night ritual animal slaughter plus pie.
Then we watched this bit of awesome and awful. They broke the budget on lame (that's la- may, not lame) fabric in this film. This film was steam punk and tricked out mopeds before hipsters were born.
The end of the movie even includes a timely hippies in the park, police with riot gear sequence to remind us all that protesting and anti-protesting are timeless. Plus the whole movie made in 1980 about the wild future of 1994 being watched in 2011 gave me the chance to whip out my Werner Herzog impression "Are we looking at the past looking the future that is really our past?"
Now excuse me while I go nurse my hangover with turkey and pie.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Thanksgiving Day Massacre
Well that explains Tuesday's rage-a-thon. Motherfucking communist invasion fuckers. On a day where I cannot possible spend my time curled up in a moaning ball of pain clutching a hot water bottle and keeping multiple layers of towels between me and all upholstered furniture. No, I have to go cook a fucking turkey.
And the birth control pills that are supposed to regulate this shit- not working. Pre-pills I did not get all PMS ragey. I maybe cried over a sappy commercial. So far the only BC benefit I get is actual birth control. I also get pimples, ragies, seriously lowered libido, and periods that are no shorter (7 days) or lighter, or more scheduled, than pre- pills. Plus I still get the cramping, nausea, and fevers that my fucking period brings.
This is going to suck.
And the birth control pills that are supposed to regulate this shit- not working. Pre-pills I did not get all PMS ragey. I maybe cried over a sappy commercial. So far the only BC benefit I get is actual birth control. I also get pimples, ragies, seriously lowered libido, and periods that are no shorter (7 days) or lighter, or more scheduled, than pre- pills. Plus I still get the cramping, nausea, and fevers that my fucking period brings.
This is going to suck.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
I am, obviously
in a foul fucking mood.
Enjoy some fucking Elliot Smith. This is expert level pissed-offed-ness.
Enjoy some fucking Elliot Smith. This is expert level pissed-offed-ness.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
It's a Question of Trust
The other day on ye old book of the face, I had a conversation with an old Elizabitchez commenter from the way back about the Occupy Movement's little racism/sexism problem (also ableism is a huge issue, but that wasn't a specific part of the convo). Since I haven't gotten said commenter's permission to post hir part of the back and forth, I'm just gonna quote myself.
"Well hell, if I had to face racism and sexism along with the possibility of getting arrested, I'd just stay home and read a book. Wait, that might be mostly what I've done".
Cut to today and I find this link via Shakesville.
OH FUCK YOU OCCUPY CHICAGO! FUCK YOU!
Some of us have been putting up with a rigged system since birth. Some of us have been fighting that rigged system since we first learned to say "But it's not fair!" while stomping our tiny feet. Some of us have been writing, screaming, arguing, losing friends over and making family dinners uncomfortable since FOR FRICKEN EVER talking about politicians who just don't give a flying fuck and two Americas and and and. And a some of us knew Chicagoan now President Obama was a shitface long before you cast your stupid ballots for hope and change in 2008.
SO FUCK OFF. WE'VE BEEN DOING THE WORK TO CHANGE SHIT SINCE LONG BEFORE YOU GOT YOUR FIRST UNEMPLOYMENT CHECK.
And now you want us to join you. Us, the always poor, the female, the brown and the black, the disabled, to join you.
We've heard that schtick before and we don't buy it anymore. You want our labor for your revolution, but you ain't gonna get it till you've shown you're trust worthy. Are you the same douchenoodles who, during the 2008 primaries, made rape threats when we said "Hey 99 problems but a bitch ain't one is a sexist dogwhistle" (not even a dogwhistle- pretty blatant sexism actually) or pointed out that y'all only seem to give a shit about reproductive rights when your beating us over the head with the idea that "Republicans are worse"? Why yes, you are. Fuck you. We're not coming to you damn revolution until we can trust you. And so far, we can't.
You wanna do something revolutionary? How about you throw out a little bone to us ladies (no not that kind of bone. Zip your pants up. This is what I mean by bullshit.) and perhaps make Obama's little come together meeting with the Catholic Fucknuggets, I mean Bishops, over the right to deny women birth control a tiny part of your protesting. Or you know, don't. I don't expect you all to pull your head out of your ass, to be honest. I've seen this shit too many times and I am really fucking tired of being right about it. I just don't trust you, Occupy, to give a flying fuck about anyone who isn't (formerly) middle-class, white, and male.
"Well hell, if I had to face racism and sexism along with the possibility of getting arrested, I'd just stay home and read a book. Wait, that might be mostly what I've done".
Cut to today and I find this link via Shakesville.
OH FUCK YOU OCCUPY CHICAGO! FUCK YOU!
Some of us have been putting up with a rigged system since birth. Some of us have been fighting that rigged system since we first learned to say "But it's not fair!" while stomping our tiny feet. Some of us have been writing, screaming, arguing, losing friends over and making family dinners uncomfortable since FOR FRICKEN EVER talking about politicians who just don't give a flying fuck and two Americas and and and. And a some of us knew Chicagoan now President Obama was a shitface long before you cast your stupid ballots for hope and change in 2008.
SO FUCK OFF. WE'VE BEEN DOING THE WORK TO CHANGE SHIT SINCE LONG BEFORE YOU GOT YOUR FIRST UNEMPLOYMENT CHECK.
And now you want us to join you. Us, the always poor, the female, the brown and the black, the disabled, to join you.
We've heard that schtick before and we don't buy it anymore. You want our labor for your revolution, but you ain't gonna get it till you've shown you're trust worthy. Are you the same douchenoodles who, during the 2008 primaries, made rape threats when we said "Hey 99 problems but a bitch ain't one is a sexist dogwhistle" (not even a dogwhistle- pretty blatant sexism actually) or pointed out that y'all only seem to give a shit about reproductive rights when your beating us over the head with the idea that "Republicans are worse"? Why yes, you are. Fuck you. We're not coming to you damn revolution until we can trust you. And so far, we can't.
You wanna do something revolutionary? How about you throw out a little bone to us ladies (no not that kind of bone. Zip your pants up. This is what I mean by bullshit.) and perhaps make Obama's little come together meeting with the Catholic Fucknuggets, I mean Bishops, over the right to deny women birth control a tiny part of your protesting. Or you know, don't. I don't expect you all to pull your head out of your ass, to be honest. I've seen this shit too many times and I am really fucking tired of being right about it. I just don't trust you, Occupy, to give a flying fuck about anyone who isn't (formerly) middle-class, white, and male.
Inappropriate Conversations with Children- for when you can't be ass to write a real post
Me:Did you take your medicine?
Kid:Yes
Me: All the doses at all the times
Kid: (making growling teenage face) Yes mother
Me: Cause if you don't take it all you could get an infection and then DIE
Kid: Yes mother
Me: And then I would have to kill myself so I can follow you into the afterlife and nag at you "See what happens when you don't take drugs!!!!" (FYI, the afterlife has extra punctuation to spare. So I used a could extra exclamation points).
Kid: changing the subject, put on sweet voice "Would you like me to get you some soda?"
Me: Yes please (makes shift eyes around the room. Where is his bottle of antibiotics? hmmmmmmmmmm)
Kid:Yes
Me: All the doses at all the times
Kid: (making growling teenage face) Yes mother
Me: Cause if you don't take it all you could get an infection and then DIE
Kid: Yes mother
Me: And then I would have to kill myself so I can follow you into the afterlife and nag at you "See what happens when you don't take drugs!!!!" (FYI, the afterlife has extra punctuation to spare. So I used a could extra exclamation points).
Kid: changing the subject, put on sweet voice "Would you like me to get you some soda?"
Me: Yes please (makes shift eyes around the room. Where is his bottle of antibiotics? hmmmmmmmmmm)
Saturday, November 19, 2011
What's a person gotta do to get arrested in this joint?
Apparently, break the entire world economy = get a fat bailout from the Fed.
But be a poor single mom with a drug conviction and lie to get food stamps for your 2 little kids (cause bad druggies don't get food stamps, fyi) and you get 3 years in jail. Oh and lose you kids.
A quick googling and minimal math skills tells me that the maximum amount of food stamps she could have gotten if she received them for an entire year is $6312 (The max allotment for a family of 3 is $526 multiplied by 12).
Here's the thing- even if she received 10 times that amount, shit one hundred times that amount, and sold whatever she didn't use, she still wouldn't be fucking over anyone. Food stamps aren't even cash. They are an imaginary currency unit created by the government to restrict the spending of the poorest of the poor to pay only for food. The fed makes money. The fed makes food stamps. But unlike when Wall Street banksters take fed money and pocket it, food stamps go right back into the economy. They pay for grocery stores (and the clerks that work in them) and farms and factories (and the laborers who pick, pack and process the food).
So you've gotta wonder, what exactly are the government's priorities when they prosecute a poor person for surviving while bailing out a rich person who needs no help putting food on the table?
But be a poor single mom with a drug conviction and lie to get food stamps for your 2 little kids (cause bad druggies don't get food stamps, fyi) and you get 3 years in jail. Oh and lose you kids.
A quick googling and minimal math skills tells me that the maximum amount of food stamps she could have gotten if she received them for an entire year is $6312 (The max allotment for a family of 3 is $526 multiplied by 12).
Here's the thing- even if she received 10 times that amount, shit one hundred times that amount, and sold whatever she didn't use, she still wouldn't be fucking over anyone. Food stamps aren't even cash. They are an imaginary currency unit created by the government to restrict the spending of the poorest of the poor to pay only for food. The fed makes money. The fed makes food stamps. But unlike when Wall Street banksters take fed money and pocket it, food stamps go right back into the economy. They pay for grocery stores (and the clerks that work in them) and farms and factories (and the laborers who pick, pack and process the food).
So you've gotta wonder, what exactly are the government's priorities when they prosecute a poor person for surviving while bailing out a rich person who needs no help putting food on the table?
Monday, November 14, 2011
TRIGGER WARNING: About that unpleasantness at Penn State
TRIGGER WARNING: (child rape, extreme entitlement, rampant stupidity)
There are lots of things you can say about the unpleasant news from Penn State.
This, in my not-so-frigging humble-opinion, is the most appropriate. (There are plenty of extremely close runners-up. Like this. And this.)
If I hear one more tearful student or alum or bigshot talking about Penn State's healing, I'm going to make Hothead Paisan look like a genteel grandmother in a Victorian parlour. The victims come first, second, third, ad infinitum, bitches.
There are lots of things you can say about the unpleasant news from Penn State.
This, in my not-so-frigging humble-opinion, is the most appropriate. (There are plenty of extremely close runners-up. Like this. And this.)
If I hear one more tearful student or alum or bigshot talking about Penn State's healing, I'm going to make Hothead Paisan look like a genteel grandmother in a Victorian parlour. The victims come first, second, third, ad infinitum, bitches.
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