Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Resolving the Resolutions

Well, I didn't make any of my New Years resolutions last year. I think this year I will make them more attainable. Last year's mishap was mainly due to life changes, making what seemed like an important resolution just seem silly. This year I plan on making some that actually make sense. Here's the list!
  • Quite Smoking - once and for all, this should be done. It will save me money, keep my home clean, and myself as well as the people around me (mainly Anthony) much healthier.
  • Learn to drive, get license - Now that I am working, and about to put Anthony in daycare, it has now become a necessary evil.
  • Work my ass off and get some good money! - Now that I have a job (hey, that WAS last year's resolution, yay for me!), I am going to really give it my all. Debt free, people!
  • Potty train Anthony - wait, can I give my son his own resolutions?
  • Start giving a damn about my appearance - far too long I've been schlepping around in sweats and crap. I'm a decent looking gal, it's about time I start giving a crap. I will get older, my body will start to show it, better enjoy what I've got while I got it, right?!
  • Start giving a shit about myself - this is perhaps the most important resolution I can ever make. For far too long, I've been living for others. Granted, I give this willingly for my son. But I've gotten so immersed in selflessness, I forgot a lot of what made me who I am and what made me happy to begin with. I know the ol' 'finding myself' line is so pase, but it's something that I really need to do. I need to promise myself good things, spoil myself every once in a while. Even if that just means spending $8 a month at Bath & Body Works on froofy soap, that's a start.
  • Finish the dental nightmare - all that's left is the bottom set. Get it done with, move on, and revel in having a perfect mouth once it's all over with.
  • Start writing again. - I have three half finished books. Let's do something about this.

Alright! That's the list for 2006!!

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Find your own Joy

During the holiday season, one can't help but reflect on their lives, or the lives surrounding them which affect them. I think about the good times during the year (which are few), and of the harder times (which are many). I think perhaps this year of them all has been the hardest I have ever faced in my few years of existence. Those who know me have been privy to the hurdles this current year has thrown in my path, and thankfully I have those few friends who have shown me the overwhelming support I needed to get through them. I have only written in this blog a fraction of the issues I have faced, because, quite frankly, most people would stop reading this thing on a casual basis had I aired all the drama. But more importantly, there is one important reason I chose not to air my greivances with fate...
Many people have faced a difficult 2005. Look at those who have survived the hurricanes in the South, or the earthquakes in the Middle East. There are people who have lost loved ones, lost livelihoods, lost their whole lives in a matter of a few minutes. There are many worse hells out there than my own. To dwell upon my own would be completely and utterly selfish, and serve no purpose but to depress me and those around me.
I read on other blogs and forums of people who have faced their own hardships. In their own small universe, there is nothing tougher than their own dramafied bullshit, and that frankly disgusts me. Although a part of me wants to scream "Your problems are bullshit!!!!" I refrain, and instead let me inner buddha come out. Icewind would be so damn proud.
What am I trying to say here? Well, the title of this entry says it all. You see, folks, life was never designed to be fair. It's a learning experience. Each trial we face is to shape us into (hopefully) stronger individuals. Although I'd love to say "be thankful for the small things in life" one must do more than that. You really must find your own joy. Mine is, and will always be, my son. Through every hardship and painful moment, I had a bright shining two year old looking up to me with his beautiful blue eyes. The pain our world inflicts upon us is unknown to such a young mind. He doesn't understand dental surgery, family turmoil, or troubling finances. He understands the Wiggles, Hugs are Good, and Tickling is the Greatest Thing ever. He is wholly devoted to the game of peekaboo. Mommy is always beautiful, and shouting never occurs in the same room as him (unless it's directed towards him, as in "GET OFF THE CAT").
Through my son, every day has a tomorrow, and life will go on and things will be worked out. To say I really do live for him is an understatement. My troubles will always seem manageable, because to provide him a good life, they simply must be. Whenever I think "I can't take this anymore", I realize that there isn't a choice in that matter, I will have to make it work for his benefit. But this isn't a matter of burden, but more of a calming relief. Everything will be okay, because it has to be.
Hal Sparks wrote on his own website, "If you don't sing your song, nobody will". I'm not sure if he's paraphrasing someone. Life isn't going to give you a fair go at it. To the people who keep thinking it will, stop feeling so damn entitled. Find your own joy, sing your own song, and sing it loudly. This is the best advice I can give anyone into the new year.
Happy Holidays, readers and friends. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some singing to do.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

The Haves and Have Nots...

Every so often a story likes this one comes along and really makes me ponder where we are at as a society. Those of you who read this blog on a regular basis know that my two major topics of choice are Bush bashing and the issues parents face in today's odd world.
Quite frankly, I was a bit shocked to see that this whole thing made headlines in the first place. I mean, big deal, some guy put up an amusing sign in his cafe?! As far as coffeehouse news goes, I personally think that Starbucks bringing back the Eggnog Latte is much more interesting than this little tidbit (and dammit, why wasn't THAT announced on Nightline? Those things are GOOOOOOOOOD).
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20051205/ap_on_re_us/kids_behaving_badly
This article I will hope can inspire discussion between those of you with children and without. There's two very opposing groups that are affected by the precedent this article is setting. Not so much in the actual wording of the gentleman's sign, but the backlash it caused.
As a retail worker, I am constantly bombarded with seeing horrible parents coming in and letting their precious little ones completely tear apart my store. I had to beg a woman to peel her nine year old off the keyboard bench for fear that she'd topple into a display, not only injuring herself, but destroying a few hundred dollars worth of product. She found my request to be a bit too much for her, and left in a huff. Dammit, people, why can't you control your children in public?! To me, it's a matter of respect to those around you, and particularly to the businesses you are patronizing. Whether it's a china shop or a dollar store, that is someone's livelyhood. Please respect that they do NOT appreciate you letting your demon spawn tear a whirlwind of destruction through their delicately maintained business. There are people around you who may not desire to have Dear Suzie crawling up onto their table at a four star restaurant and sampling their own dinner with her grubby little hands. And what kind of lesson are you teaching them with this irresponsible behavior? Ugh, other parents can make me sick sometimes, and I can see why many people without children can start to cringe when they see a miniature human walking in.
On the other hand...there are plenty of us who DO control our children, and are constantly having to face people who clearly HATE children. Look, that's fine if you don't like the concept of offspring, more power to you and please go get yourself nipped. I understand that the trials of parenthood aren't for everyone. But when certain childless people start acting like they are somehow better than us who have tossed aside the birthcontrol in favour of procreation, well, that just chaps me. The people who are clamouring for 'childfree zones' obviously don't understand the concept of family (and besides, there are childfree areas they are called Bars). It's one thing to look down your nose at a kid who is running around like a sugar high locomotive of doom, but please don't give me a withering look if my son quietly whimpered because he dropped his fork.
Ugh, it's amazing how this society chooses to polarize itself further. I am seriously waiting for Coke Vs Pepsi communes.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

White Stuff falling from the sky!!!!




Looks like we got our snowfall a tad early this year. Stay tuned for bad drivers! I swear, here in the Northwest, one flake hits the ground and people immediately plow their cars into the nearest tree. Nighttime will bring a while new amusement, drivers who think BlackIce is just a myth!
Still, it's awfully pretty. I think when the little one wakes up from his nap I will bundle him up and teach him the joy that is making snowangels. Yay!

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Dear Anonymous

It seems I get a lot of these random comments from people, just begging me to tear them a new one. It seems my recent anonymous happens to be a bit more persistent, so allow me to direct this and all future commentors of idiocy and illogical thinking to the following letter...

Dear Anonymous,

Thank you so much for taking time out of what I assume is a busy schedule to read and comment on my blog. Since usually the comments that are left anonymously require little to no direct response, please take some extra time to answer a few questions for me in this form letter, since you are obviously intent on getting my attention.
How did you find my blog? Since most of these anonymous comments seem to pop up when my entries are of a political vein, did you happen to just google the term "people who's opinions differ greatly from my own narrowminded point of view so that I may therefore lambast them for not fitting into my feeble perspective"? Or did you simplify it to just "Liberal Scum"? Is this how we get our rocks off early in the day, by attempting to rile yourself by reading about people who actually use their brains instead of allowing the media to think for them? I can imagine you drinking your coffee, with a self important and smug cock to your head, turning a few shades of purple as your eyes cross over my oh-so evil words. And yes, I realize that your tender sensibilities must have been so agitated by my prolific use of foul language. I can completely understand that the only logical conclusion your holier than thou head could have reached is that I am uneducated white trash. After all, only stupid people learn those dirty words, right? Heaven forbid people who write on a BLOG would dare slip into a more casual vernacular.
However, please know that if you entered this blog via my website, there WAS a warning on the front detailing the horrible offenses that were about to dance in front of your eyes. If you found it on it's own, reading half a paragraph would've told you the type of person I am (ie, completely and utterly evil in your mind), and thus SHOULD have turned you off immediately from reading any further. Heck, the BY LINE of the blog should tip you off to some extent. Yet you keep reading. Utterly fascinating. You must be a masochist! They have groups for that, you know.
I've also noticed that although you are posting to share your obvious disappointment in my presence as part of the human race, you have neglected to share what it is you might actually be doing that would, oh say, be a better course of action to any of my own. With our last anonymous, for example, this person seems to feel the need to 'call me out' on my mention that I actually do write my legislators (which I really do, by the way, though I see not the need to provide any proof. To do so would only be to clutter up my blog with copies of the multitudes of letters that exit my sent box every week, and would be boring to all of my more devoted readers). Yet this person didn't mention if they actually do or not. In fact, I can't actually see a purpose to that particular anonymous's post, except perhaps to just appear as an annoyance on my radar. Quite noble, really, as I do so enjoy having this particular fodder for a blog entry. Often times these anonymous entries choose to attack me personally, rather than giving genuine, educated critic. This is disheartening, as I would hope an intelligent person could write an unbiased and less "below the belt" response to my writings. Instead, you choose to attack my moral character, my education level, and sometimes even my parenting abilities, which oddly enough, have nothing to do with the Blog Entry in question. Perhaps this is because you are too weakminded to actually come up with a reason for disagreeing with me? Or are you really just so pathetic and inept in your own life that you make yourself feel better by choosing to attack someone anonymously on the internet with little to no valid cause?
Also, why do you so often chose to post anonymously? I do realize that with the anonymity of the internet, you have no fear of actual retaliation by me, and of course you can sit smugly back in your chair, assuring your self-righteous and dignified derriere that you have irritated some complete stranger for the simple offense of thinking differently than you. But doing so seems awfully cowardly to the rest of us.
And lastly, why do you choose to keep coming back? Is it to see by some sick virtue just how far I can push your buttons by continuing my own succinctly contemptuous behavior? Or are you simply just a very confrontational person in need of anger management therapy?
Now, to answer one of your own...why do I write the things that I do? Well, not that I need explain, but I will to the best of my abilities. First off, my political tirades are to indeed spark interest in my readers. I want the people who read these things to actually think about the events/issues that fuel my wrathful typing. I know my own single letter to a political figure may not make much of a difference. But if I write about it on here, the people who read will start thinking. And maybe 2 out of every 10 readers will be inspired enough to delve further into said issue and write a letter of their own. And those two people will converse with others, and of those vast numbers, a few may also write. It's a domino affect, and a highly effective one. Thusly, a blog entry followed by a letter I write can equate to approximately 10 to 20 letters following shortly after.Or, since most of my readers are actually friends of mine, they will be guilted by having a diligent and self-righteous friend such as me into taking meager action. Anyone who actually knows me is painfully aware of the Mamahood Soapbox, but they tolerate it by following my humble requests to perform small tasks like writing their own letters in followup to mine).
But the most simple explanation is that I am who I am, I chose not to hide that, and I pay for the website that this blog is attached to, and therefore, can type, do, and feel whatever the FUCK I want to, and frankly could give a flying shit how offended you might be.
Good Day, and please quit pestering me. It's gotten old.
Sincerely, Motherhoodlum

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Senators actually Grow a Pair

http://news.yahoo.com/fc/US/Terrorism

ABout FUCKING time someone stood up within the government and said "Ya know, that pesky little law did a LOT of damage to civil liberties...maybe we should rethink that!" PLease, people, for the love of all that is holy (and for the supposed freedoms we as a country like to tout), WRITE TO YOUR SENATORS. Tell them that reinstating this ridiculously overbearing piece of legislation is NOT a good idea.
Yes, there are terrorists in the world. There are terrorists within our very borders. But treating every single American citizen as a suspect against national security, turning our government into the horrors of Big Brother, this is NOT the solution.
That is all.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Fun with Photoshop


Yeah, I know, it's petty and mean...

Monday, November 07, 2005

Geek Girl WishList

Soooo...how geeky am I? Well, you should probably know just how much of a geek I am. Is this list obscenely long? well, of course it is, because I am far too poor to actually buy myself half the shit I want. This is probably the first time I've actually put a few high end items on my list, so no one is allowed to call me a selfish bitch for the stuff that is on here. I know I won't actually GET these things, but it's a WISH list, it's supposed to hold my hopes and dreams, right?!

Games:
PS2: Shadow of the Collosus, We Love Katamari, Ratchet & Clank 4, Sly Cooper 3, Jak X, Jak 3 (because I suck and haven't gotten my hands on it yet)
Gamecube: Animal Crossing, Tales of Symphonia, Pikmin, Paper Mario, Mario Party (any of them), Resident Evil 4, Zelda anything
Xbox: The Bard's Tale, Gauntlet, Call of Cthulu, Myst IV, Syberia 1 & 2
and of course....gimme a 360!!!!!

Random Shit from Radioshack: Switch for headset to speakers for my PC, Better webcam, better digital cam
av switch for all my damn consoles, Ipod (yes, I will join the masses, it's a lot fucking easier than carting around CDs), new shelf stereo for the studio, so I can listen to musicy goodness while I paint (or, if I get the aforementioned Ipod, speakers for it). Oh, and I need a cell phone so I can get on the employee plan for Sprint.

Other: New Creepers! (I really want some new shoes, dammit.), a new blanket for the couch, a pretty dress, new fancy things (aka lingerie), DVD of Phantom of the Opera, a small handheld jigsaw (to make cutting out the wood I paint on much easier), a small kiln (so I can get back into painting ceramics).

The typical shit that appears on my list every year anyways to put in my stocking: Scented body goodness (Bath & Body Works is your frieeeeeeeeeeeend), new razors for my Venus, gourmet coffee, good chocolate, batteries, blank CDs, cigarettes, gift certificate to Micheals or Joanns, new brushes.

And of course...anything with Nightmare Before Christmas or the Muppets. Goddamn I am predictable.

Not that I ever really exchange gifts with my friends, but I think I might actually be getting a couple of them goodies this year. Now that I actually have a real income, it's easier than it was previously. ALthough honestly I end up sending handmade things to them, because quite frankly, that's what I always appreciated recieving!

Edited to add: I want my friends to be closer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Friday, October 28, 2005

Overdue update

wow, I suck lately at keeping up on this thing. I'm sorry, folks, this mama has been working her ass off. Quite literally, actually, I've dropped a few belt notches since I started at Ye Ol' Shack. I've settled in quite nicely, though. The gang I work with is still The Awesomeness (note to self, quit hanging out on the interweb, it shows in vocabulary).
Sooooooooooooooooo....what else is new? Not a whole heck of a lot really. I'm sure I could share random work stories, now that I have them, but there hasn't been anything to terribly exciting to relate to my fine readers that wouldn't bore you to tears, or make little sense. hmmm...we all know how mama likes to make lists, how about I complete this update in list form of total randomness!

I really wish people at Taco Bell spoke better english and weren't obsessed with pushing hotsauce.
I'm only learning enough french to really offend someone, or turn them on like crazy. But then, what else is the language good for?!
I need to buy more jeans. And shoes. Fuck, I just need clothes.
I DID buy a new coat, which I have been referring to ever since as "The Foxy". It's foxy.
I will be redying my hair again. What colour? Stay tuned!
I <3 Otakubooty.
I <3 IRC and avchat.
I <3 not having much of a social life.
I haven't been painting very much as of late, but I did make a necklace entirely out of resistors which I snagged from work. Geek? Why, yes, thank you.
Although I snagged halloween off this year, I am a lazy and exhausted wench, thus my brilliant plan to handmake all three costumes to go as the Nightmare Before Christmas family is down the tubes, and I will be a total slacker mom and buy anthony's costume at TRU. If there are any left. If not, he's going to be a ghost.
He will still look ridiculously cute and I will post far too many pictures of him on this blog. Of course.
Because of my inherent lack of followthrough (HA!) but moreso lack of free time, I haven't done much to the motherhoodlum website, save add a few photo galleries.
OK! so that's that! I know, I am slipping into a completely boring spell here, so sorry folks. I am sure I will be coming up with plenty mama rants very shortly, just give the freaks time to wander into my radar, then I may smite them with my angst.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Workforce Wonder

Sooooo, let's see, I've been at RadioShack for almost a month now. I suppose it's time for an update on that, in case anyone was curious (and not within actual earshot of me on a daily basis). Honestly??? I friggin LOVE working there.And since I've already been there for a month, this isn't the doeeyed honeymooner bliss of new jobby. This is actual I have a Good Job with Good People inner harmony.
Why do I like working at a job so many people have scoffed at me for?
Well, let's see, for starters, the hours are perfect for a baby juggling schedule. I don't have as much time to paint, but I still have Anthony's nap times and my rare evenings off. But even my four hour weeknight sifts send me home happily feeling like I've accomplished something.
It's FUN. I mean, christ, I am a geek, I genuinely enjoy talking about setting up wireless networking system and all the coolest doodads for your gizmos. Call me creepy, I call me the knowledgeable gal you are desperately hoping is at your nearest radioshack. I get to play with toys half the time. What's not to love?
In addition to being already in my interests, I'm learning a TON of new stuff. Granted, I don't plan on setting up a radio tower in my garage anytime soon, but the fact that I learned about the stuff is exciting as all get out. I love learning. Makes me feel all smart 'n stuff.
The customers aren't usually annoying. Perhaps it's the neighborhood we're in, but I always get nice people who appreciate our help in there. The random asshole is a rarity, and usually doesn't stay long enough to sour our day. I love to hear about the cool stuff they are doing, like setting up a rockin' home theater, or building robots from our parts drawer.
I get paid, which is of course a plus. But I not only get my hourly check, I get bonuses for rocking my job (selling key items). You give a person like me an incentive like that, I jump on it with a vengeance. It gives me a goal to strive for daily. It gives me pride when I see that extra line item on my paycheck. And it unleashes that inner competitor in me.
The people there rock. This factor is the biggest one for me. I don't think in all my employment history I've had a workplace where I genuinely enjoyed working with every single person there. Since I respect privacy, I will have to make some nicnames here...
Girly Girl - just turned 18, but you'd never know it talking to her. She's mature, genuinely kind and sincere, and a blast to chill with. She's cute as a button without having the "I'm an 18yo hottie, worhsip me" attitude. I want to take her home in my pocket.
Ze Spaniard - Has the added incentive of being able to speak spanish, which instantly brings in sales, has a warm and relaxed demeanor, and is an honest person. Also a youngun, but hey, they all are. We don't work together too much, but I enjoy it when we do. He has the patience of a toddler parent, especially since I have to ask him questions all the dang time.
Old Man - I think of him this way because I think I fell over when I found out he was 22. Again, patience of a zen master, warm and considerate individual who has openly shared his culture with me. And he doesn't mind me endlessly blathering about my child when we carpool. The Kid has his shit together, and will go places once he graduates.
Moto-boy - He gets that moniker for his awesome motorcycle. He's new to our store, and we can already feel the love. A ninja at cellphone sales who is willing to spread his wisdom amongst us. Nice kid, great sense of humour.
Boss Man - or Bossboy or The Kid. I suppose I shouldn't really call him that, as he's only a year younger than I. But he is still living a nice, fun, carefree life with his insanely hottilicious fiance, so he gets called kiddo. This kid seriously KNOWS his shit. There's a reason he's manager, with a slightly cocky air to him. It's funny, because you can probably see our egos colliding in midair whenever we're around. I value his knowledge and insight. He so far hasn't criticized me, other than just filling in the gaps in my knowledge. But he doesn't make you feel like a dumbass when informing you of things, which is an amazing quality in a supervisor. He appreciates the fact that he has great employees. He still throws me off, for some reason, but it's probably the dueling ego thing. I've made a mental note to eventually get him and fiance over for dinner sometime. Not only are they Good People, but I am curious to see what he's like when he's not all buttoned down.
So yeah. There's my new life and the people in it, in a nutshell. Loving it! I feel in control again. Empowered. Independent. Productive. All these things, a happy mama do make.

Monday, October 10, 2005

Tragedy Apathy

For some reason, God has been having a field day rolling out the big guns of natural disaster on the little petri dish known as planet earth. In less than a year's time, we've had a devastating Tsunami, massive hurricanes, and this latest, a deadly quake in S. Asia. I don't think some stores have even bothered taking down their "Donate to the Red Cross" signs since January. Reading the articles that flood the front pages of my home page, seeing tortured faces in misery splashed across the fronts of newspapers, it all seems so surreal at this point. It certainly does trivialize those other local annoyances, like strikes and such. But does all this tragedy, one right after another, run the risk of forming apathy among us?
When the Tsunami hit S. Asia, relief funds were in abundance. You could practically trip over the donation sites. When the first few hurricanes hit our gulf coast, it was a toned back effort, but nonetheless, a present one. When Katrina hit, it almost seemed like people were 'over' the idea of humanitarian aide, though. Few places sported relief efforts, or were slow to set up. I had to actually hunt for a clothing drop site, and I am still unsure as to it's legitimacy. And in the wake of this recent event in Pakistan/India, I've seen...nothing. There's still a few Katrina signs up, but nothing for the people overseas. So, what? Did we forget to continue caring? Are we completely tapped out? It truely is a sad day for the human race if we have.
This isn't going to be a long post, I just wanted to get that out there, and hopefully spur a bit of discussion.

Thursday, September 29, 2005

BIble + Education = ...

Okay, I know I was going to continue our lesson on bitching, but I am delaying that for a much more important post. Sorry if you were taking notes, feel free to put down your pencils for a sec so you can listen to me ponder this new and vastly interesting subject.
Classroom Bibles
This whole tale ain't a new one, but this article presents a point that wasn't brought up before, or at least not as clearly and concisely as this one did. Now, if you feel like being lazy and not clicking the article above, phe, take a moment and read the whole thing and let it mull around in your head.
Surprisingly...I think it's a good idea. I whole heartedly agree, I feel that most students of a high school age should read up on biblical writings. I would actually go further than just the bible, but from what the article implies, they are doing so. Aside from the fact that the American society is built strongly upon the tenants of this one religion, and much of the modern law is built upon it (or in some cases, trying to be built upon it), the article is right...it is an important piece of historical literature. Without the Bible, we wouldn't have much of Shakespeare's writings, we wouldn't have Dante's Inferno (for you little emo bastards), and we wouldn't have most of the modern philosophers ramblings on the inherent nature of God. Our greatest thinking and creative minds have at one time or another been influenced by the writings in the scripture. How can one truely understand the works of, say Da Vinci or Michealangelo without reading what they were painting referrences of?
I have always found it unfortunate that most of the classes I encountered in regards to biblical study were often too preachy and secular, and left a critical eye on the sidelines in favour of simply turning it into Sunday School. Leave the moral message behind, if possible, just teach the historical significance of the book please. But I understand that this is hard, as well, it's a book that most people feel strongly about. But if we can teach other literature text from an objective viewpoint, why not this?
I look forward to seeing if this actual textbook gets approved, and of course any fallout afterwards. Who will we hear from first, I wonder. That dipshit in California who can't seem to get past the word GOD in an age old pledge that most children don't understand? Or will the religious groups be upset that we aren't teaching the moral compass held inside the pages of the Bible? We'll see, I have a feeling this may stir up a wildly entertaining and contentious fight.
SInce this is going to be for High School age classes, I am not too worried about the whole 'religion interfering with education', even though honestly, I normally would be. The fact that religious groups are currently involved in the sexual education of our high schoolers is BEYOND repulsive to me, especially in light of the fact that they are sidestepping fact and reason in favour of outdated and misguided moral upholdings. But...this is different. This is literature, and studying it at it's most critical point is key to really understanding the rest of the world. Remember, kiddies, Mama started as an English major, so I suppose this whole thing has a particular significance to me.
But I'd also, of course, so selfishly, like to think that if we start teaching these young and critically thinking minds the actual texts of the bible in their purest, unbiased, uninterpreted form, we may have less morons running around the world misquoting it and twisting it's actual wordings for personal/political gain.
This is a chance I feel for us as Americans to rise above our caveman like grunting and ranting about religion and christianity. Taking such an influential text OUT of it's reverred and dubiously shrouded pretext and simply understanding it for what it IS may allow our next generation to grow up more insightful then the last few we've spat out.
So, for those of you have have joined Mama in her cries of keeping religion out of the schools, let's not forget to keep understand society IN there.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Bitchatude 101b

Yea yea, this is overdue, bite me. Remember, I'm a bitch, I do what I want!!!

In our first class we discussed the basic principals of being an effective bitch. But it seems I may have left you readers with a feeling that there may not be recourse you can take in certain situations. Oh, but this is not true. The most effective tool a Bitch has in her arsenal is Sneaky Bitching. As promised, here are the tried and tested best practices I have come up with on the road to being a Vengeful Bitch on a warpath. Peruse, learn, then dissimate your enemies.

The Rules of Vendetta:
Workplace Wrath - Since you have carefully followed lesson 3, you are entitled to know how to get back at those who irk you in the workplace. Most obviously, if it is a co-worker, take note of their wrongdoing and head them off at the pass (ie, the boss). But don't present your ires as you are being an evil tattle tale, present them as genuine concerns for the benefit of the company (which they should be, never bring up inconsequential issues to a boss). Make sure of course that your own workplace behavior far surpasses your quarry, as this will only further make the victim even more vulnerable and humiliated.
If a customer, make sure you do EVERTHING completely flawless so they have no reason to bring up complaint. If possible, shower the person with impossible kindness in front of your peers and ideally your boss so that they have no choice but to come across as a complete psychopath for pestering you. If possible though, find every possible upcharge you can slap onto them in the book. Service charge for replacing a battery that is often ignored? This is now your You are an Asshole Surcharge. If their action of raising your ire is less obvious, and is, say eyeing you as a female employee like you are a hamhock on a plate, use it to your advantage and make them buy everything in the store they lay there eyes on under the impression that you find these purchases ultra sexy. Now you are a bitch with a comission.
If it's your boss, however, there aren't many ramifications but one...be a DAMN good employee. One that customers adore and flock to. Then get a new job and watch the former lose business because they don't have you. Best revenge EVER. Also, if there are questionable legalities, research them and nail them with it. Boss skirting labor issues? After you leave, sic your local labor law entity upon them. Bahahahahaha....
Pissants in public - The world is full of morons, and you will come across more than a fair share in your lifetime that will raise your hackles. Whether it's a nutjob in teh supermarket or in front of you at the ATM, assholes abound. Always follow the Kindness rule whenever possible, because it immediately makes the walking terror out into a psycho. Meeting aggression with a calm demeanor can not only often diffuse a freako from further acting out, but makes everyone aware of how ridiculous this person's behavior is. Now when the person leaves you can feel free to let out the breath you've been holding and utter a nice remark along the lines of "medication is a great thing, if you take it...". If you are simply unable to hold your tongue that long, try a more subtle comeback to the person's aggro attitude, pointing OUT their indescretion, and that will usually send them scurrying off to pester someone else...
"Decaf, seriously, look into it"
"Look, I don't know who peed in your cocoa puffs today, but you don't need to be so hellish to strangers"
"I'm sorry, but you must have confused me with someone who gives a damn what your opinion is"
one of these, or a variation along a similar vein of your choosing, can instantly pop a fuse in the nutcase's head and cause them to take their insolence elsewhere. Otherwise they'll go aggro in which case you duck and call an authoritative figure over. And you come across smelling like roses, while the freakazoid gets their keister handed to them.
Friends turned Foes - I've had far too many of these than I care to admit. Friends are people who simply haven't pissed you off yet, and all too often eventually DO. Some you can forgive minor indescretions (hey, we're all human), but for those who truly cross the line and entire sworn enemy territory, there are a few strategies to handle them.
Considering their foul was probably quite noteworthy if you have torn out and burned the page in your address book with their name on it, you should feel confident in never EVER wanting to share breathing space with this human again. But you probably share mutual acquaintances with this vile individual, which could make your social structure a bit difficult to manage. How does one tackle this?
First off, bite your TONGUE for a while and do not shittalk the individual, beyond truthful fact. Was this person a flake worse than a Californian Hippy with a pot addiction? Feel free to shrug and admit this person's unreliability doesn't have a place in your oh so important life. This will make ALL others around you start to question any meaningful matters that they've ever placed in the victim's hands. Were they just a raging gossip? Refer to the Kill them with Kindness rule in our previous lesson and take the high road...but do it obviously. "Oh, well, I I think it's pretty lame to spread bad things about others, so I will be holding my tongue on this one". Better yet, "Sorry, I'd like to think I am more adult than stooping to the level of discussing other's private affairs like a school yard rumour mill". This will not only garner respect for you, but cause others to look down upon the tongue wagging idiot of your choosing. If the moron has been gossiping about you in matters which you assumed were private, try and nip the gossip in the bud, and explain to those who've come scampering back to you with this newfound information that you were hoping to keep such matters private, and whoever was spreading your personal laundry is insanely tacky and uncouth for doing so. You don't even have to name names, the finger has already been pointed.
Did the person go beyond this and start spreading lies? This is the one I've most often encountered. First and foremost, do immediate damage control. Face the lie head on and set the facts straight. Do NOT immediately point a finger at the lying sack of shit that started it, simply claim complete ignorance in how this rumour was started. This technique makes your truth setting seem much more plausible, as you are not trying to devalue one person, you are honestly trying to get the truth known. This simple act is twofold, it 1) makes the lie go away, and 2) makes the fool who dared spread falsehoods about you known as the devious prick they are to ALL who heard and were corrected. Problem solved, now no one will trust a single word out of this person's mouth. The final stage to resolving this matter is following the next tip.
BackStabbing shittalkers caught in the act.
A person can air my dirty laundry, a person can say things that are untrue about me. Both of these things cause a proverbial hathet to come slamming down and severe the tie of any kinship I held to this person. But when a person starts badmouthing me behind my back to other friends, a whole new warpath I will lay down at their feet, for this very act means they were never my friend in the first place, and thus declaring themself my nemesis. This is the act which will get me in your face faster than Suncoast having an NBC figure sale. If you have already done damage control about gossip or lie spreading, this is also the final step you should take with said miscreant. That there are no other steps preceeding backstabbing means that this is a be all end all foul in any friendship. CONFRONTATION time.
Make sure there are a multitude of other people around that have been witness to their warranting crime. Yes, you have elevated to bitching in public. If this is a final step for you, this will make it all the more meaningful because you refrained earlier. Now, hold your tongue for a sec...do not accuse...interrogate. "did you say this about me?" at this point, the person is either going to A) lie their ass off, further making themselves look like an ass because they've been caught and now will be caught further in a lie when you present proof, or B) get cocky and admit it. Now, either way, remain calm still. Take a deep breath, you want to be heard. Put on an air of mild surprise, this is often quite effective. "Wow, I am shocked. I thought we were friends, and god knows friends don't do shit like this. Seriously, I am dissapointed in you." Yup, talk to them like a misbehaving child. Your victim now feels guilt and a little humiliation at their own triffling actions. Now, if their chastised look ain't enough (not to mention the looks of disgust radiating off of fellow persons in the room at seeing someone caught in a heinous act), you can NOW launch into a tirade. But do it well. Don't threaten violence, you are above that. Use big words, and insult creatively, as you will now be amusing all who watch and further humiliating the ne'erdowell. The best note to end on, I've found is one simple phrase..."You disgust me". Trust me, almost NOONE recovers from hearing that out of anyone's mouth.
Now, if you may have noticed, I am quite a Zenlike bitch. Do unto others and such. And that's basically me in all aspects of life, I am pretty relaxed. When annoyed, I will attempt to take the higher road as much as I can, because I am a definite believer in the circle of karma. Now, does that mean I haven't ever sunk so low as to, oooooh, say, carefully place a bag of frozen shrimp under someone's porch in the middle of summer? of course not (by the way, this is endlessly amusing, they won't figure out where the stench is coming from for daaaaaaaaaays.). When I was living in an apartment, and someone was stealing my laundry soap downstairs, I replaced the contents of the bottle with concentrated bleach. I casually called the tow truck on a bitchass of a neighbor upon realizing she was illegally parked...at 11pm, when I knew she'd have to run out in her PJs to stop him. And signed an ex up for an erectile dyfunction newsletter.
Rules to follow if taking a more direct approach to vengeance:
Don't do permanent damage. Seriously, you can make someone suffer for a little while, but when you start taking money out of their pocket, that's not cool. Serve up justice, not a bit of injustice on your own part.
Don't begin a rumour mill of your own. Remeber how I said this was tacky? It always is, no matter what the reason.
Don't do anything illegal. Seriously. No asshole is worth it. Questioning the legality of your actions? Look it up in a law index online before you go. Signing someone up for a bunch of offers via mail IS illegal, it's a felony actually, because it's considered mail fraud.
Don't mess with family members or marriages. Just don't do that. It's not cool, and always outweighs whatever that person did to piss you off. I don't care how miserably the person dumped you, if they got married again, DON'T GO THERE.
Alright kiddies, ramp up your bitchatude, don't forget to tap into your inner peace, and rawk on!

Bitchatude 101

There's no doubt you've put together reading this that I can be a raging bitch at times. I have a notoriously hot temper, I'm stubborn, and unafraid to speak my mind. But ya know what? There is actually a certain grace and skill to being an effective bitch that many women (or men) simply have not mastered. If you don't take extra care in your bitchiness, you get labeled as a 'nasty bitch', 'annoying bitch', or the worst and most aggravating of all...'dumb bitch'. Since I have come across more than my fair share of these lesser bitches, I figured I would compile a nice little how to on being an effective bitch. So take out your number 2 pencil, kiddies, it's time to sit and learn.
Lesson 1: Bitching with purpose.
Being a bitch for absolutely no reason is silly and rude, and can often times only get you into more trouble than it's ever worth. If you want to be a raging bitch at all times, be my guest, you'll probably end up getting yourself into far more unnecessary tangles in life than I would ever recommend. If you really feel that being a bitch at a particular moment is warranted, well, then, you're now bitching with MEANING. Unleashing your bitchatude at only key moments in life will make you a highly effective bitch, because it will keep idiots off guard, and let them know that you mean business. Pick your battles. If you don't, you will be known as a Chronic bitch and no one will pay attention when an issue is truly bitchworthy.
Lesson2: Bitch with a brain.
Nobody hates anything worse than a dumb bitch. If you feel that ire rising and your bitchiness coming forth, you better know what the hell you are mad about (and subsequently about to bitch about). Bitching about politics? You better damn well know both sides of the fence and what you are arguing. Bitching about a policy somewhere? Know why it's there and why it's a bitchworthy policy. Bitching about someone doing something that irritated you? Know why they did it and the infinite better ways they could have done it. Educated bitching is effective in that it can't be ignored. When you are right, and they are wrong, and you can prove it, your bitch level raises to a whole new spectrum.
Lesson 3: There's a time and a place to be a bitch.
And guess what, 9 times out of 10...it AIN'T in the workplace. If you work in a place where you wear a nametag, do NOT have that nametag on when you are bitching. It's like saying "Hi, here's my name and a means to contact a manager who can make my life truly hell all because I got in your face", and will backfire on you EVERY time. Even if you were following lessons 1 & 2, if you don't bother with this particular piece of self restraint you might as well go back to being a chronic dumb bitch. Also, try not to be a bitch in front of your kids. Having a wee one there observing potentially awful behavior on your part will only make the receiver of your bitching feel sympathy for them, and disgust for you. However, there are ways of getting around this, which brings us to...
Lesson 4: Stealth Bitching
Being an effective bitch is really seen when practicing the art of being a sneaky bitch. This requires practicing lesson 3, but still getting your bitch on when absolutely necessary. How do you do this? Well, it's easy, but it completely belies the seemingly obvious path. Simply put...kill them with kindness. Why is this considered bitchy? It catches the receiver totally offguard. They may have backed you into a corner, expecting you to unleash holy hell upon them, and instead you throw a curve ball and smile sweetly and wish them a nice day. Your completely serene composure can completely unnerve a person. Now, despite the fact that you can be mentally rattling off every obscenity in the book at this person, a saccharine smile paired with eyes filled with undying hate can make a person completely wet themselves if done with practiced poise. It also allows you to later perform the most insidious of all bitchiness, found in our final lesson...
Lesson 5: Plotting Evil Bitch with a vengeance.
This is the category I fall under, which is why those who know me feel my wrath is something of an unholy creation to be avoided at all times. I bitch only when provoked (lesson 1), I am smart and know what I am bitching about (lesson 2), I pick my battles carefully (lesson 3), and will delay all acts of smite and have a person unnerved before exacting vengeance (lesson 4). The final unleashing of my bitchitude, if truly warranted, is executed in much more devilish ways than simply being a violent bitch. Note to reader: never be a violent bitch unless yours or your offspring's life is in danger. Violence is never a good policy EVER, and will only lead to dire consequences. There are much more damaging ways to be a bitch than throwing a sucker punch. You take time to figure out your prey, and then swoop in for the kill in ways that will truly make them or anyone think twice about getting in your crosshairs ever again. My next post will be all about the art of being a Sneaky Bitch, but in the meantime, study the lessons above.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Happy Dance

I got a job! Everybody dance with me now. I swear the whole job hunt was really starting to bother me. I've been interviewing quite a bit, but nothing was panning out and I was seriously getting frustrated. Nothing really makes you question yourself quite like getting no job offers. Especially when they are entry level service industry jobs.
But yesterday I got hired (on the spot) at my interview with Radio Shack. Yes, folks, mama's added a whole new level to her geekatude. I start tomorrow. And the pay has some good potential with commission and other goodies, which will make up for the few hours a week I can work. So far, first impressions of the boss man and other coworker I met seem pretty cool. They aren't pocketprotector wearing circuit nuts, they seem like normal folk, friendly even. I'm the oldest person there, apparently, but boss man swears it's only by a year. Being older than my boss, thast's an unfamiliar place for me, but one I knew I'd be facing in this new job foray. And the guy knows his stuff, and hired me for all the good reasons, which gives me a lot more confidence going in there.
See, I never felt I interviewed well. I can be a bit perky (yes folks, believe it or not, contrary to my nightmarish blogging persona, I am quite a chipper gal in real life). And well, I know myself. I wouldn't say I am cocky, but I am confident in my own abilities and experience, and in who I am. But I am of the persuasion that I am not going to give the old standard interview of spewing out what someone wants to hear, but I will give you the answers that really are me. I don't want to get hired simply because I am able to smarm my way through an interview, even though I could with my past sales experience. If you are hiring me, you better be hiring me for ME, and not a pretty veneer I can slap on. So anyways, rather than looking at my past lack of relative experience as a hinderance, this kid actuall saw the positives in it. My art background does imply creativity. My past sales experience, regardless of field, is relavant in that I do have the ability to comfortably push product. Sales is something I've always been good at, and I don't think that's something you can really learn you just have to have that in you.
Anyways...I am excited. With just that whole interview I can feel things clicking into place, which is a good thing. With all the chaos and drama that has been my life for the past few months, I can finally really throw myself into something good. And there's nothing better than getting a small glimmer of hope during an otherwise craptastic life. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTness.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Hot Button Issues

It seems lately that our politicians have really dug their claws into this whole video game contraversy. I thought it would die down in a week or two after the whole Rockstar fiasco, but apparently there's still a few legislators out there who are on a Mission to Save the Children from the evil forces of Video games.
Careful, kids, you may be in for a shock, but Mama is about to veer wildly away from her precious democractic party on this issue. I don't feel that *gasp!* government should be getting involved, especially not at the level it is trying to.
First off, the Video Game Industry is self regulating. Good Ol' Jack Thompson made that happen years ago when Mortal Kombat upset his delicate sensibilities. SInce no form of media ever wants the Big Bad Government to get their fat fingers into their business, the ESRB rating system was created, and has worked nearly without flaw since it's inception. In fact, this whole fiasco with Rockstar has actually proven how effective they are as a governing body, as when the news broke of the undisclosed content, all of those games were pulled from the shelves within 24 hours. Our government doesn't even work that fast *couch Katrina couch*. The new rating was quickly put in place, and voila, problem solved.
So now all of the sudden we are in a huff about a minor's ability to obtain M rated video games. The lawmaker's saw this as a new hot button topic, and began jumping on it like sharks at a feeding frenzy. The smell of potential Parental Advocacy votes in the water was too great a temptation, apparently.
I've been keeping abreast of the developing legislation in this issue, as both a parent and a gamer. As I said before, creating any laws to step in on governing this form of media to me smacks of the Evils of Future Censorship. And, I've noticed that rather than putting control back into parents' hands, these newly drafted bits of legislative fluff are in fact taking responsibility off the shoulders of those who are rightfully supposed to be raising their kids.
Too many of these irresponsible parents are crying to the Powers that Be that their devious offspring are able to get the games without any knowledge on the part of Mom and Pop. A few have uttered to my misgivings that I have no idea what it's like to raise a teenager. They are correct, my son is only two. About the only parental nightmares I have right now are grocery store meltdowns. But I have a teenage brother, and it wasn't all THAT long ago I was in my own awkward adolescence. And, shock of all shocks, my parents KNEW WHAT I BOUGHT! How, you ask, did they perform this mighty feat without psychic powers and mind reading abilities?! Well, this may come as a surprise to some, an unthinkable concept...my parents TALKED TO ME. Since they were the ones who gave me money in the first place, before I got a job, they were able to regulate how I spent it (clothes and makeup, and the occassional Bauhaus CD). I was raised in the heydey of the PMRC, and my parents would listen to the CDs I bought with me. Yes, they probably hated it for a spell when I was in my whiney goth music phase, but they endured it to discover what I was filling my head with. If they were concerned about lyrics, they'd have a lengthy discussion with me on how I felt about the message of the music I was so deeply in love with. Later, when I became a bit more interested in games, I was living under my father's roof. Guess what he did?! He dared read the boxes of the games I wanted to buy! He'd even go as far as reading reviews! Gasp! Shock! Unthinkable!
When my son gets interested in games, and he will, being so exposed to them, I will pay attention, just like my parents did. He wants a game? If I am purchasing it, I'll read reviews (not hard to find, given our new nifty technology of the INTERNET). If he is buying them on his own, I will actually converse with him about which one's he is wanting and thinking about purchasing. You don't have to come across as the gestapo, simply having a convo with your child about their interests is not that friggin difficult. Of course, you have to lay a foundation for free communication by not instantly lecturing or getting all judgemental everytime your kid opens their mouth. Listening is a skill that should be a prerequisite to childrearing.
Going back to the real subject at hand, politicians and their precious hot button issue. Not only is this legislation unecessary in light of a selfgoverning industry, but wasteful. Wasteful of resources spent even creating it, wasteful in getting it voted on, and wasteful of policing resources trying to enforce this nonsense.
We talk about government waste all the time, and this is a prime example. When most states have floundering educational systems, transportation nightmares, and taxation vexations (oh, and a few have a pesky natural disaster to worry about, while others should be helping them), we have these fatcats creating this nonsensical paperwork to tie up resources. Get back to your jobs, people, and stop wasting your time on trying to garner a few extra votes.
So, if you, like me, feel this is a gross misuse of your taxpaying dollars, write to your legislator and tell them to drop this crap and get back to more serious issues. Maybe if they realize we consituents don't give a flying fuck about this minor issue, they'll drop it and go back to writing meaningful drafts.

Sunday, September 11, 2005

Being Dago

Sorry I haven't posted much, although I was wanting to leave that Project Heart post up there for everyone I knew to participate. Oh, and Shawntay bought me a Gamecube for my birthday, so I've been a total Mario Whore for the past few days.
My cousin Chris just left from a nice but all too quick visit for the weekend. Since I've been so estranged from my family for most of the past 10 years, it was truely a treasure to be able to be around him again, even if only for 1 day. His visit of course has inspired lots of internalized ponderings of my bizarro family life. And I'm not talking about Mom's side, complete with the hourly question of "What stupid stunt did my younger brother pull now?", but the gigantoid Italian family I often wax poetically of, yet rarely interract with.
Back when I was growing up in California, family was a huge part of my life, on my father's side. Summers in LA and visits with the relatives were always the some of the warmest of my memories. The delicious meals my Aunt prepared for a busting at the seams household were entrenched in a wealth of cultural history, and my own family roots were practically drilled into my head by eager aunts and uncles desperate to pass on 'our story'. There was never a moment that I wasn't utterly aware that I was ITALIAN, all capitals, be damn proud of it or face the wrath of wine making cousins. My three cousins and I were all practically inseperable when we were in So Cal, the primary staple of our visits down there. We'd chase eachother all over the house and drive our respective parents crazy. There's not a single picture of childhood trips to Disneyland that don't contain all four of us wearing those stupid mouse ears.
But we moved away, family ties were irrepairably severed, and the only reminder of my Dago-hood were my tats, my skin, and penchant for drinking more red wine than should be recommended by physicians. I still don't like olives, although I could bathe in olive oil. I guess I just seperated from my history, beyond of course beating into the heads of those around me that my mercurial temperment is entirely due to my bloodline.
So, my recently overly american/homogenized self was in a bit of a quandry when Mi Cugino announced his intent to visit. The last we saw of eachother was in the unique circumstance of my trip to OC for his brother's funeral. An odd time indeed. Before that, the most recently we had seen eachother was for a quick dinner in San Francisco during our visit there. What should I plan? I stuck to my usual Friend Visit Itinerary, which is plan to eat out, let them decide which landmarks we should go gawk at.
You know what happened? We enjoyed long conversations over coffee and some excellent NW fare, and checked out his pictures of a recent trip to Italy (no, I refrained from screaming Zi HOMELAND!). It was like there wasn't a huge seperation of old, save for him filling me in on his other brother's recently developed social foibles. It was more relaxed and enjoyable feeling than I could have expected, given the ire still apparent between our parents. But most importantly, watching my cousin walk up the driveway with the obligatory bottle of wine we Italians feel we MUST bring to a house we visit reminded me that my roots are still there. And the warm fuzzy feeling I get from remembering my family is still here. Perhaps maybe those memories can continue now. Family shouldn't be something I am scared of, it's there to be warm and loving and perfectly content sitting on a couch and rambling into the night. Families probably have these happy notes in them around the world, in any culture and language. But Italian families have a unique richness to them complete with boisterous uncles, vino flowing like water and the smell of garlic permeating everywhere. And damn, it feels good to be a Dago.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

Project Heart

Pass it along, get involved, guys!

Join up to see about updates



Calling all artists!


Hospitals have no power. Families forced from their homes. The drinking water is polluted.The death count rises. This is not a third world country your watching on T.V, This is the United States, our home. People need our help. Help to survive and rebuild.

Grab a pen, a pencil or your brush, and help the victims of Hurricane Katrina!


Charity isn't always about dropping a buck in a coffee can
and right now it's about picking up a pen and lending your talent.


Project HeART is asking artists from tattooists to painters to pick up a 4”x6” index card and give heART! Design a realistic heart, paint a sacred heart, sketch a traditional heart- whatever your style may be, we want to combine your amazing talent with that of other great artists to help the victims of Katrina that have lost everything. We'll be gathering all works of art into one large piece for a charity auction on eBay, with all profits going to Habitat for Humanity. Don't have an index card? Or prefer working on another material? Any 4”x6” paper will do! Your contribution is more appreciated than you will know! Participants are asked to include their name, website, company, or other information that they would like attached to their work. Also send your email address to be made aware of the upcoming auction!



Spread the word and send your submissions by September 16, 2005 to:

Project HeART
c/o Brandon
1885 California Ave.
Corona, CA 92881


Let us know you're participating! Email ProjectHeART@hotmail.com for more information or to sign up!


Thanks for your participation in ProjectHeART!

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PASS THiS ON iF YOU CARE

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Friday, September 02, 2005

To paraphrase the Beatles...

Today is mah birthday! ber nr nr nr nr nr nr NR...Happy birthday to me! ber nr nr nr nr nr nr NR Today is mah birthday! ber nr nr nr nr nr nr NR....I hope I have a good time!

Eh, probably not, this is one of those low key ones. But, mama aged today, and the world spins on.

Monday, August 29, 2005

Proud mama

I realize it's been a while since I have blatantly gone on a bragging streak about my wee one, so here goes!
Monkey turned 2 back in May. He's getting bigger, of course, and although the issues he had with eating/speaking are still there, he has really come a LONG way. Allow me to list (yes, lists! mama loves LISTS!) the new and wonderful things he has been doing lately...
  • Vocabulary now consists of Mama, Dada, Baba (bottle), dinky (his version of stinky, in referrence to a desperately needed changing of the diaper), Hi, Byebye, Baby (both pointing to himself and greeting a very cute girl in the mall), Booya. The last one started out as BOOOOOOOOO being screamed really loud in public places, but recently morphed to booya. Can say Mine, although doesn't know what it means (thankfully). Recently started calling my dad Popo. The cats are 'iggies', and his stuffed doggie for bedtime is Oggy.
  • Sings. Yup, he'll run around and sing an odd little tune of Lalalalalala. I swear this has nothing to do with mama's obsession with Katamari Damacy.
  • Eats pasta, ramen noodles, Fig Newtons, cornbread, oranges slices.
  • Rides down the slide all by himself! he climbs up the ladder, swings his legs around, and scoots forward saying 'weeeeeee'. Priceless!
  • Figured out how to come into the game room, turn on the guitar amp and then strum on Daddy's electric.
  • Actually puts his toys away! He knows to put the legos in the lego truck and the rest of the toys in the toybox.
  • Plays basketball and catch.
  • Can put together about 4 legos at a time.
  • Knows that socks and shoes go on his feet. Although he takes particular joy in taking them OFF, when mama goes to put them on he calmly sits back and sticks out his tootsies.
  • Loves giving eskimo kisses, which we've dubbed Nuzzles.
  • Has been attempting to brush his own teeth and hair. The latter isn't very effective, but is dang amusing.
  • Knows that 'Going Bye Bye' means putting his shoes on, walking out the door and opening up the cardoor. He will go through these steps usually before I have even grabbed my purse.
  • Knows that when you move the little sticks on the game controller, something on the screen moves. Yes, my son's a gamer!
  • Has begun experimenting with crayons.
  • Picks the dandelions in the backyard and immediately presents them to me.
  • Goes into the kitchen and grabs the tupperware I keep his goldfish in, opens it, and happily nibbles away.

He's constantly learning, and I can clearly see the development. I think he's at the point where he's playing catchup with a lot of his peers, which is obviously a huge relief to us. You can really see the delight he takes in the world around him, which is a beautiful thing. He's experimenting a lot with babbling and different sounds (his favourite thing to do is sit on my lap and have a 'growling contest'. Whenever he's outside he is just running from one end of the yard to the other, picking up leaves and sticks and examining them.

Thank heaven for little boys! I decided I am going to go through some of his outgrown baby clothes (which I was hording for the next baby) and donate them to whoever is running Hurricane relief programs in my area. Seeing how everyday life with my son is such a treasure, it makes me realize how the simple things mean so much.


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Sunday, August 28, 2005

Hurricanes and Humanity

Like most world-concious people, I am watching in horror at the approach of Hurricane Katrina to New Orleans. This rare category 5 storm is carrying 175 mph winds, and is more than likely going to obliterate coastal Louisiana. I mourn the loss of the beautiful historical architecture in that city.
But most of all, I am mourning the loss of our humanity. Why do I chose to use such a dramatic term? I've read the last few articles as the government finally declared an evacuation order on the city. There are approximately 100,000 people that simply can't go. Either they don't have transportation (because they are impoverished), or they can't manage transportation safely (elderly). So, what are we doing? Leaving them there.
President Bush got off his warloving ass long enough to give them the formal declaration of emergency, but I don't exactly see our remaining National Guard rushing down there to help these people. What's wrong with us? How can we justify leaving anybody behind in this awful storm's path? We can send thousands of troops to the Middle East, but we can't organize a goddamn evacuation party on our own fucking soil?! How the FUCK can this happen? 100,000 people. That's a big number, although it's still a manageable one. But we can't get some troops down there loading people onto trucks or buses? Better load up 100,000 body bags later then.
Oh, send them to the damn Superdome. FUCK YOU, what about the people who can't FUCKING get there? I'm sorry, but I hate sitting here like a helpless lump watching this shit. I can only hope that humanity actually has a little bit of glimmer left in them so that people who are perhaps living next to some of these folks are helping them. Because it horrifies me to know that now money in this country truely does mean the difference between life and imminent death.
I feel like God is giving us this last ditch chance to prove that we still consider human life precious. But we're not exactly jumping at the opportunity.
Even if you aren't religious, please pray for these people. Pray for the 70 yo woman with arthritis who can't drive and was left in her home. Pray for those people who had to give up the luxury of a personal automobile in favour of groceries who have now been doomed. And pray to GOD that the rest of the nation that can do something gets off their asses and DOES SOMETHING. Get those people out of there NOW.

Thursday, August 25, 2005

Ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb

Woot! Finally redyed my damn hair. Those who know me are aware this is only phase one, though. I put on the base coat of red, will add the multicoloured streaks later. Must attempt to get part time job first before I go too technicolour-happy...

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Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Life's Little Constants

There are few things in this day and age one can consider a constant in their day to day life. Sometimes this very fact can seem very depressing. But I have a few, and I would like to share. And we all know how much mama likes to make her lists....

  • My son will say or do something that will completely crack me up or melt my heart daily (if not hourly).
  • I will get at least one gawking stare at the grocery store.
  • I will be mortified at today's youth by going to the mall.
  • I never have enough money for the things I want, but always find a way to get the things I need.
  • There isn't enough milk in the world to satiate a boy who refuses to drink anything but.
  • Groceries will always come up to more friggin money than I thought they would, and therefor I will always curse at my Safeway receipts at least one a week.
  • I will always have my tattoos. And there will always be some dumbass to comment on them.
  • There will be 5 people out of 10 that feel my former 'career' is a horrible thing worth their scorn, but another 5 willing to totally back me up and give me props for my brutal honesty and unabashed position of staunchly defending my ability to chose whatever the fuck I want to do to keep a roof over my head.
  • Despite my education, people will assume by my physical appearance or speech pattern (given that I curse without shame) that I therefor must be a HS dropout welfare baby on crack.
  • WIth all the people who will consider themselves 'against me' I will always simply regard them as an endless supply of fodder for my rants on this blog.
  • Most politicians would rather rally themselves behind completely worthless causes 'of the moment' to seem like they are important and actually doing something, nevermind the fact that the state of education in this nation is abyssmal, we have a needless and costly war going on overseas, gas prices are ungodly, our economy is still floundering, (especially in the light of so many companies exporting jobs), and hate and violence still rages within our own borders. Furthermore, there will always be some dipshit backwoods politician that is dead set on making his hatemongering propaganda into political 'reform' in an attempt to set our nation back several hundred years, and there will always be enough narrowminded midwest out of touch bible thumping pricks who will defend him.
  • Someone, somewhere is being persecuted. But someone elsewhere is making it a personal mission to end that via peaceful means.
  • The majority of you reading this on a constant basis do so because you agree with me. The minority who don't will always get themselves up in a tizzy about something I write, regardless of how many warnings I slap up on the main page of motherhoodlum.com to stop reading the damn thing.
  • My husband will 9 times out of 10 say something completely offensive to me, and 10 times out of 10 I will always forgive him.
  • No matter where I move, I will always have one extremely weird ass neighbor.
  • My Kung Fu Fighting Hampster will always be hysterical to me.
  • I will always look good in black.
  • I will never look good in pink.
  • I will always question my ability to look good period, but will know that this is simply stemming from an irrational problem with my self-esteem dating back for decades now, and regardless of how I feel, there will still be someone out there at any given time willing to boink me.
  • Since I have become a mother, I know I will always consider one life in this world more important than my own.
  • Since I have become a mother, I know there will always be a mess in my house, no matter how many times I clean it. And that no one in said house will appreciate either portion of this statement.
  • Despite all the things I have listed above, very few things in life are constant, therefor change is the only real constant. Which, for anyone paying attention, is the very meaning behind the tattoos I bare.

Monday, August 15, 2005

Flashbacks

So, today I was puttering around myspace and realized I hadn't filled out the whole 'school' part yet. Bored and going rounds with insomnia (which is when my brain makes irrational and bizarre decisions), I filled it in and typed in a querie to find fellow alumni. Since no one I know today would know my erratic educational history, allow me to give the lowdown.
I went to a normal Highschool for my freshman and sophmore year. And I am talking NORMAL, the district I was somehow crammed into was proliferated with a lot of hoity toity yuppy types, doctors and lawyers and their rich bratty kids. And mormons. Lots and lots of mormons. I am amazed any coffee shop stayed open as long as it did there. Everyone shopped at the Gap and Banana Republic, so needless to say I stuck out like a sore fucking thumb. The funny thing was I was constantly lumped in with the druggy types or labeled a whore for having male friends, but I was probably one of the straightest pegs there. I was even in choir for chrissake! Even though that was the bastion club of all mormons and tight-laced types, I managed to weasle my way into a bizarre friendship circle in there.
But the rest of the time outside of the music room I was miserable. I hated a lot of the teachers, and was hated by a good portion of the student body. What should I have expected though, I had a pierced nose and wore combat boots in a sea of khaki and pastel plaids. I constantly felt like the curriculum moved at a snails pace, so when I discovered an alternative high school I jumped on it. I ended up switching to Independence for what would have been my Junior year, although I devoured the textbooks so quickly I completed my senior curriculum before the session ended, and was promptly handed my walking papers with flying colours. When I first enrolled the counselor there had already had me in a previous summer school class (taken following my freshman summer so I could take even more choir, I was friggin obsessed and now years later I am once again tone deaf). After I had enrolled she had me take some additional tests and before I even began the junior/senior warpspeed year, I was enrolled in a nearby university. The program she finagled me into was called ACT, Accelerated College T-something. The gaggle of us in the district that made us through were supposed to just dip our toes into the whole college experience by taking some jerkoff courses like archery or beginning art. Being the freakish overacheiver I was, I ended up enrolling in a full load of standard college courses, which sped up the whole Sharona gets a degree before she even turns 18 thing. Damn, I was nuts. No wonder I had grey hair at the age of twenty.
Anyhoot, going back a few paces, like I said, I did attend a normal highschool, with over crowded classes and everything, for two years. I formed the typical high school bonds, yet somehow drifted away from every single signature in that last year book. I didn't leave Sacramento until the tail end of '97, so I really don't have much of an excuse for it. But, fastforwarding to the modern day, I pulled up a list of people who would have been in my class, and the years above me (I can count on one hand the people in my year I actually associated with, the rest were all a year or two above). As I scrolled through about 11 pages of people, I recognized NO ONE. Not one soul, and most of them were in my own original year. On the last page I found a gal from choir, but only recognized her because it said "choir' and we weren't a big ensemble. Was I completely blind during those years? I remember the rich kids torturing me half the time, but was it so bad I tuned out their very names and faces? Were the people I called friends at one time so inconsequential that I cannot see them staring me at me on the screen? Or am I actually getting older, and the times have carried me too far to remember these people who shared what should have been my 'formative' years? It's a rather cold thought, really.

Stupid People and their questions

As we all know, mama's biggest irritation in life is being surrounded by stupid people. Dear God, they are everywhere. I wish they'd wear little signs around their necks so we could know when they were coming. You know who these people are. They write checks in the grocery store for a candybar, and can't figure out the Uscan system (seriously, what is so fucking hard when the little voice says 'please scan your first item'?! There's a goddamn picture!!). They cannot comprehend why you must have exact change to ride the bus. The concept of a cup size at a coffee shop being referred to by it's ounce measurement is beyond them. But most of all, they feel the need to talk to ME. And then I am forced to fend off a volly of stupid, stupid questions.
So, dear readers, I share a few of the more common ones with you, as well as they delightfully obscure answers I've created to them. Most are designed to scare the piss out of the ignorant moron asking them. Feel free to swipe these, as most likely a few of you have had to deal with these inane queries yourself.


Is that a tattoo?
Motherhoodlum answers:
Nope, a very intricate birthmark.
What (grab arm and stare) DEAR GOD, where did THAT come from?!?!?!

Inevitably this is followed by...Did it hurt?
Motherhoodlum answers:
No, it felt...wonderful. (immediately adopt a glazed over stare. Drooling is a nice touch. This response is almost garaunteed to end the conversation, and hopefully send this person scurrying far far away from your breathing space).

Not as frequent since I took out various piercings, but...Why would you get that pierced?
Motherhoodlum answers:
To freak out people like you. Is it working?
More convenient to keep my keychain there.
It wasn't intentional, it was a freak flyfishing accident.
Because they won't pierce internal organs yet, so I figured this was a reasonable substitute.
I am part of a cult that believes emulating swiss cheese brings us closer to the holy one.

Is that your son?
Motherhoodlum answers:
No, I steal children that bare a striking resemblance to me.
Nope, dinner!
Twin brother, mom just kept her legs crossed a reallllllllllllly long time.
He is my Lord & Master...(again, glazed over blank stare, semi catatonic smile)

My all time favourite of the dumbass questions was back when I used to dye my hair a lovely shade of blue. Some twad at the market actually asked me, "so, you dye your hair that colour?"
My immediate response was "Nope, I'm part smurf".

Feel free to add anything else you've had to creatively come up with to combat these morons we unfortunately must deal with in our daily lives.

Sunday, August 14, 2005

Laaaaa La la la la la la la laaaaa

Some of you may see this and think, 'oh, mama's in a sing songy kind of mood'. However, there's a select few of you that instantly got an annoying Japanese pop song stuck in their heads. Yes, Mama finally got her little hands on a copy of Katamari Damacy, that Japanese made form of digital crack for the new millenia. For those who think I've lost it, Katamari Damacy is a PS2 game that is ridiculously bizarre and delightfully addictive to all who pick it up. The premise is straight out of an LCD hallucination, you are the 'prince of all cosmos', with a sausage shaped head. Your father, the King of all Cosmos, is a drunken lunatic in serious need of medication, prone to referring to himself in the oh-so-annoying royal 'we', and who takes the father-son relationship to a whole new codependent and fucked up level. He broke the stars in the sky, because he's an idiot and was either drunk out of his gourd or more plausibly taking some galactic form of ecstacy, and has now charged you with repairing it. Because he can. Of course!
Anyhoot, you do this buy rolling around a giant 'katamari', which is akin to those stickyballs we use to get from teh grocery store and irritate siblings with. it looks like a psychadelic cat toy, and anything you roll onto with it sticks and becomes part of the katamari, growing bigger and bigger (like your cosmic father's ego). Eventually you go from rolling up dice and lint to whole towns and countries! woot! But seriously, that's all you do in the game, roll a little fucking ball around and curse incesantly at anything that gets in your way. I cursed a lot in this game. The box says something about not using the buttons on the controller so as 'not to stress the player', so all you are using to control it are the analog sticks. Not stressful my ASS, I dare anyone to play this game and not be on the edge of their seat whining and fidgeting like a crackhead as the timer clicks down and your ball ain't big enough. You start screaming at the boxy image of the cat and swearing out loud he will rue the day he smacked the fish off your ball, and giggle like a maniac when the ball is big enough to roll him up into. Then you obsessively play the level over and over again so you can find the present and make the little prince wear a chef's hat. Obviously it would be a rather tricky game if the folks in the world were as spartan as some of us poor folks. But apparently in Japan they leave five thousand hair pins on the floor, and oodles of sushi laying about on plates randomly in the middle of the street. And lots of men have bangs sticking out five feet in front of their heads. Then, when your katamari is large enough to roll up buildings and such the world gets even more twisted, as there are dozens of 'jumbo man' people flying through the air, and a rash of mountain sized octopi plaguing the Atlantic. Scary.
So, yes, I am currently spazzing out playing this game. Fear my Katamari!!!
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Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Mmumf!

This is the sound I am most commonly making these days, usually while in the grocery store. It's been almost three weeks now since the surgery, but I am no where near eating solid foods, and boy does that SUCK. My diet currently consists of:
  • Ice Cream
  • Yogurt
  • Fruit Smoothies
  • Mashed Potatoes
  • Oatmeal
  • Canned Peaches
  • Overcooked Rice
  • Overcooked Pasta (Angelhair only)

Does this suck? YES! aside from being an Atkins nightmare (and fuck that, I friggin love my carbs. My own personal version of hell includes everyone being on this nonsensical craze, and Satan telling me Pasta has been outlalwed. Nooooooooooooooo), it's very...well, bland. I never thought I would tire of ice cream, but as I am limited in flavours that don't contain large chunks of foreign goodness, it's beginning to get old. I can have chocolate, vanilla, and sorbet. Lately, I've taken to Mint Chip, my all time fav, and just slowly letting the chips melt on my toungue. This usually results in the entire mess being melted by the time I am done though. I swore off mashed potatoes for the rest of my natural life after the first week. Oatmeal? Well, thank god Quaker feels my pain, and provides a few varieties. The overcooked rice thing is a new addition to the line up, and is so far working out ok. I adore broccoli au gratin, and the rice variety has the veggie bits in small enough pieces that I can swallow whole.

Aside from it being a dismal experience for my palette, it's become friggin hell on my waistline. When your options can be contained to one pantry shelf, you desire it all the less. And we all know what happens when mama eats less, she becomes the incredible shrinking woman (minus the irritating acting of Lily Tomlin). Beh, I'm getting thin and bored all at the same time. I tried to eat a tuna sandwich yesterday, only to hang up the attempt halfway through because my jaw was screaming. Being done in by a processed protein is hell! I was able to get through a whole hotdog today though, so I am going to attempt fries tomorrow when dad comes by.

Ah, Daddy Days. For those going 'huh?', my father, who I am exceedingly close to, comes over every wednesday because he has it off of work. We usually go out to a nice meal, although that's of course not been an option since I've been incapacitated. Although we could conceivably go to some diner where I'd suck down a milkshake and longingly stare at Dad's cheeseburger, he has thankfully saved me that torment. You know what gets me? I was a friggin vegetarian for 10 goddamn years before I met my husband. A decade without beef or poultry (I occassionally ate fish during that spell, as I have always had a hard time with nutrition and it was one of the concessions I was willing to make to get protein and amino acids into my system). But I've had to go three weeks without a burger and it's driving me up the damn wall. I don't know if this is a testament to a hideous eating regime that living with Rick has made me accustomed to, or simply a sign that in my years I've become increasingly stubborn when it comes to sacrafice. I've always done bad with Lent (bad catholic, BAD!), but this is fucking ridiculous.

*sigh* I swear I am going to do a dance on a table when I get to eat a steak again. Seriously, Black Angus will want to kick me out (or hire me, I am damn good!). On the upside, the swelling and bruising on my face is now officially GONE, so I look like a normal (albiet more slender) person with a...din ding ding! Kick ASS smile. Seriously, I am so not ashamed to toot my own horn in that respect. Back before my teeth began to show the signs of deterioration, I was known for my broad and toothy grin. Shawntay used to call me the ball o' teeth when I laughed, and I figure the moniker was accurate. The denture is, surprisingly, smaller than my original set (I had been blessed/cursed with slightly larger front teeth. I wouldn't say BUCK teeth, as they fit my poufy lips, but they were there). I had been terrified that having a denture would leave me with unaturally large, square, too even to be natural teeth, but apparently the science of making the doohickeys has come a long way. Unless you knew what I had done, you seriously wouldn't know. Well, that is until you saw me covetting your fajita.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Facts of Fornication

Being that I randomly get emails in regards to my former occupation (not to mention the umpteen questions I get upon friends discovering it), I figured I'd set the record straight on exactly what I used to do. Heck, I may even give a few highlights on my trip down memory lane.
Yes, I worked in the adult industry. I've made no secret of it, save to a choice few members of my family. Yes, both my parents know what I did, although my mother only knew after the fact. My dad? Well, he knew the day before my first interview (and yes, strippers get interviewed). So, what exactly did I do? I worked as a stripper, the ol' standard pole dancing, stage humping naked gyrating to a three minute crappy 80's tune and give you a lap dance if you are nice kinda stripper. But that really didn't last that long. I hated the personal contact, and the backbiting of the other dancers was too much for me. So, I went to what I stuck to the longest, and what ultimately led to meeting my husband, online porn. Although that sounds plenty lurid, it was actually quite dull. I sait in front of a computer for 6 hours. Half the time, in lingerie, the rest of the time...not in lingerie. During the clothed portion, I was just luring people into the VIP area, and chatting, basically. I had a microphone on the camera, so it was pretty cake. The rest of the time I was in the VIP room and my hands were, shall we say, occupied. But, for the record, only with MYSELF. I never onced boinked some guy on camera. There was one occassion when I got to play around with a girl in there, but she and I knew eachother, and it was not something our bosses expected of us. It was just fun. The whole experience, was well, unique. I had my up days and down days. Most of the men there were ridiculously nice (if a bit obsessive), although we'd get those choice few who were complete retards, or just utter assholes and sexual deviants who probably shouldn't be unleashed on society. If they were overly abusive, they got a friendly little boot from our onstaff moderator. Yes, he was paid, and he sat in another room operating the cameras and technical equipment. The VIP room was actually a seperate room, and it had three wall mounted cameras that could be moved by our tech's remote control. The camera designated to be on our face was for some reason the one all us girls denoted as the 'tech cam', so if we were trying to talk to him, we'd look at that one. Or we'd make goofy faces to see if he was still awake. It got to be a pretty dull gig at times, especially since I always worked the grave shifts. I liked it because there was less people, and we felt like we could get away with more. In the VIP room, we were supposed to be getting down to business (and this was every half hour), but we usually didn't. We'd chat, or appease the fetish guys.
show me your feet! Show me te toeeeeeeeees!!!!!
I ultimately ended there shortly after Rick and I were together, and returned to the 'normal world'. I sold commercial printing for a spell, and then attempted to work for an escrow office. I say attempted because teh jackoff I worked for there was an utter freak with a penchant for screaming at the topic of his lungs and taking great pleasure in watching me get flustered. Unfortunately, this asswipe knew my former occupation, and chose to finally bring it in full glaring view when he gave me some tirade about only being pretty to look at, but not much good for anything else. Of course, as he attempted to conclude his rant by wrapping up with some nonsense about knowing how to grow watermelons (which was about knowing how to grow things as opposed to knowing when to give up...bla bla bla), I had calmly packed my things, and then threw his keys in his face and screamed "I'm not a fucking farmer you asshole!" and stormed out of his office. Yeah, ti went realllllllly well.
I tried to work for another net porn company, but their pay was erratic and the owners were really shady, so I split and went to the infamous Deja Vu. I chose to work downstairs, in the peep booths, though. Really, it ended up being the best of both worlds. I had the good pay possible with working live, but a lovely glass screen keeping the ruddy hands o' the public far away from my derriere. Hell, I could still tune them out and pretend they were the faceless denizens of the net I was accustomed to by just looking at the reflection on my side of the glass. But boy, I guess something about a tattooed girl with black hair screams "I love the freaks!" because boy did I get them. I seemed to be the exclusive Freak Mistress there for a while. Guys with any kind of fetish, from the tame foot lovers to the out-there "please can I have a glass of your urine?" ones. Actually, I kid you not I was dispensing my own bodily fluids at least once a week there. Got paid pretty dang well for them, too. The most awkward was the guy who just wanted to watch me brush my hair. ah, well, easy money.
Yeah, I had some ridiculously shitty days there, too. Especially towards the end. It was already off season, and my pregnant belly was just starting to show. I was hormonal like a friggin' hurricane. Seriously, Tom Cruise had nothin' on my mood swings. The customers were getting fewer and fewer, and the money was trickling. When I didn't get picked for a show, I was devastated. I worked a few days there making absolutely NOTHING. Luckily, I had a boss from heaven. I swear, both the guys who managed there were amazingly nice people. We all sat down and agreed I should go ahead and quit before I got to the point of being one of those bitter angry strippers who would randomly curse out customers. And that was that. Yes, this is the briefest possible summary I could possibly give to the collective 3 years of my life spent in the buff. I may eventually try and publish the book I wrote about my experiences.
Since I am trying to set the record straight here, once and for all...I was NEVER a prostitute. I was NEVER a private dancer, although I tagged along once with a friend who was and decided that one gig was enough. I NEVER had sex with a customer, unless you count my husband. I was NEVER in porn as far as having sex with a person whom I wasn't already intimate with on camera. So, that's that. Any questions?

Thursday, July 28, 2005

Sex & Violence

After my extended absence during my recovery (by the way, it still hurts like a mo’ fo’, thanks for asking), I must immediately return to ranting like the lunatic that I am. After all, what would one’s highly anticipated return to the blogosphere be without a lot of arm waving, hair pulling, and soapboxing? Alright, so I am the only one highly anticipating my own return, screw it, I am famous in my own world.
CENSORSHIP
It’s the topic of the day, kiddies. First off, let’s get something straight: there is a big difference between censorship and enacting age based limitations on consumption of media. After all, entertainment forms do have several in place already. I consider enforcing age limitations to be a way to sidestep having to go down the ugly and wayward path of outright censorship, and is thus, a necessary evil. So for all the kiddies out there who were lamenting the fact that several states are now requiring the M status on video games to be akin to R rated movies, I just have to say get the FUCK over it. Which would you rather have happen, not being able to play the games until you are eighteen (or your parents loosen your leash and trust your mental capacity), or not being able to play the games EVER because they aren’t allowed to be made (which would then be the actual affront to the First Amendment)???? That’s what I thought. Now Quit whining.
BUT…what I am really not understanding is the current uproar about this whole matter being caused by a very specific game. Now, the ruckus that GTA San Andreas is causing is for an apparently unlockable portion where you can get some nookie. Whoopdee shit, digital boobies. But ho OH! It has scared the willies out of parents and congress alike, not only to enforce a newer tighter restriction of Adults Only on the title, but causing it to be pulled off the shelves in several stores and cities. Which, incidentally, just helped that game company sell a whole lot more units, by the way, so I am sure they thank you for the blissfully profitable marketing you just provided. Now, what I am not grasping in this whole fiasco is that in this game you can rip apart a police officer with a chainsaw and steal the squad car. This has actually been prevalent in the last three installments of GTA, with narry a mutter from the conservative front. But…wait, now that tatas are involved, we must be in an uproar?! There’s actually some holierthanthou mindfuckingly stupid person who is SUEING rockstar games for damages due to suddenly seeing this being played by the fourteen year old she bought it for. Oh, and collective damages for anyone else who’s cornea were apparently scarred beyond recognition at the horrible site of pixilated booty knockin’. I heard this and I think my brain ripped in two.
So, rampant violence in society is fine, but T & A ain’t okay?! What the FUCK people. Do you realize how friggin ridiculous this is. This game, and actually, every game ever made by the company, is insanely violent, to the point of passing gratuitous and going straight for outright lunacy with a flamethrower. Sure, there’s been rumblings, especially when they released the game about rioting (which, incidentally, I didn’t find all that amusing, save for being able to decapitate someone and then use the head as another weapon). But they’ve been able to float under the conservative radar with most of the crapola they pull, despite it’s obvious depravity. Now mind you, I ain’t knocking these games. The graphics rock and the open ended concept and freeform gaming engine is pure genius. I just wouldn’t buy them for a fourteen year old. Hell, I’d let my kid play Leisure Suit Larry before this game, to be honest (wait, no I wouldn’t, that game sucked eggs).
I just don’t understand how, in a world with a war without reason, children killing children, and apathy towards the pain of others, our society is choosing to ignore the guns and freak out over the titties.