No time for later

3 plugs and a post

2006-06-02T06:11:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you meet people and you just think to yourself, "What the fuck?" Other times you meet people and you think "Wow. We need more people like [him/her] in the world." Mark is one of the latter. He tells it how he sees it. Go read it.

Why is it that if I said that I wanted to meet She-Hulk in real life, people would look at me funny? She's beautiful, funny, and insightful. I'm just saying what everyone must think when they stumble across her site; everyone wants to meet her. Go read her blog.

My apologies, Aydreeyin, both for the turtles and because I thought that you had stopped working on Graceless. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure, GO READ IT. It's a story in progress that you don't want to miss. It's the top link on my side bar for good reason.

*Note: I am pretty sure that all three of you already read or know about those blogs, but in the unlikely event that someone stumbles across this site who hasn't been there, I think they deserve some recognition.

So, you may be wondering to yourself, what is it like to leave a warzone where you're under mortar fire every day, and come home to a beautiful woman who loves you where everything is safe and secure and ideal?

I don't know. That's not what wound up happening.

Instead I came home to someone that didn't want a relationship with me, but failed to tell me that until a few months AFTER I gave up my life and career to be with her.

She changed somewhere between the time she arrived at grad school and the time I got back from Iraq. Suddenly, it wasn't okay that I don't have a degree yet. It wasn't okay that I wasn't perfect, really. She wanted a trophy to flaunt to her rich, grad school friends.

I just wanted to be with her. So she ripped my heart out and stomped on it and chewed it up and so forth and so on until I realized that I had found another constant in life. India is pain.

I'll take the mortars.

General Disclaimer

2006-06-02T05:32:00.000-07:00

Ok folks, the next few posts may bring you down. This doesn't mean that I've lost any sort of joie de vivre or that I have any idea if I spelled that right. It's just on vacation.

Haiku Madness, part 2.

2006-05-01T10:30:00.000-07:00

This year I won't be participating near as heavily as I did last year, but Joefish is at it again with his Second Annual Haiku Contest. It's pretty close to done, but head on over and try to enter anyway. If it's too late when you get there, you can still be entertained by all the entries in the comments section of this post or any other post on that site. In honor of Joefish bringing back that beloved contest, this entire post is a link to Eat at Joe's.

He's alive! He's alive!

2006-04-28T15:17:00.000-07:00

Yes that's right, people, lock up your animals, I'm back. I won't promise everyday posts, though.

A lot has happened since I've been gone and that means plenty of material for me to post about.

To those of you who have postulated on my demise, I'm glad to tell you that I returned quite safely from Iraq.

Buy some of this, it's delicious:

Mmmm, chips & black bean dip.

*EDIT* I think a lot is going to have to change for the look of this blog too, so expect some changes. I am going to make it much simpler.

Turtle Love

2005-10-24T00:05:00.000-07:00

Discuss

Where have I been? People want to know.

2005-10-07T22:07:00.000-07:00

I have been plenty of places, but that's not what I'm going to tell you today. Today I am going to tell you why I've been away from "No Time For Later." Well, with preparations in full swing for leaving this smothering mud bowl of heat (Iraq), I've been VERY busy as of late.

That's not the only reason, though. I realized that my blog is stalking me. It found me here, for crying out loud. All of you wonderful readers out there should breathe a sigh of relief that in this time that I am away, the blog and I are reconciling our differences and that we are working on a compromise so that it doesn't syphon all of my life away.

DAMNIT! IT'S DOING IT AGAIN!

Apocalypse Lan

2005-09-16T21:33:00.000-07:00

Iraq, shit. I'm still only in Iraq. Every time I think I'm going to wake up back in the states. When I was home after Afghanistan, it was worse. I'd wake up and there'd be nothing... I hardly said a word to my wife until I said let's get a divorce. Since I've been here, all I could think of was getting back into the states. I've been here a year now. Waiting for a user, getting softer. Every minute I stay in this room I get weaker. And every minute Charlie squats in the bush he gets stronger. Each time I look around the walls move in a little tighter.

I was being ferried down the street in a KBR bus, a type of shuttle bus, pretty common sight on post. They said it was a good way to get back and forth without drawing a lot of attention. That was OK, I needed the air and the time. Only problem was I wouldn't be alone. There was a goatherd.

You smell that? Do you smell that? Port-o-Potty shit suckers, son. Nothing else in the world smells like that. I hate the smell of shit suckers in the morning. The smell, you know that shit sucker smell, the whole compound. Smelled like - excrement.

Never go out of the trailer. Absolutely goddamn right. Unless you were going all the way. FB went out of the trailer. He split from the whole fucking program.

I've seen latency...latency that you've never seen. It's impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what latency means. Latency. Latency has a face... And you must make a friend of latency. Latency and lag are your friends. If they are not then they are enemies to be feared. They are truly enemies. I remember when I was with the XVIII Airborne Corps... Seems a thousand centuries ago... We went into Afghanistan to set up the network. We left the camp after we had done our job, and I went to Iraq. I went there and I saw the bandwidth. And I remember...I...I...I cried... I wept like some grandmother. I wanted to tear my teeth out. I didn't know what I wanted to do. And I want to remember it. I never want to forget it. I never want to forget. And then I realized...like I was shot... Like I was shot with a diamond...a diamond bullet right through my forehead... And I thought:

My God...the will to do that. The will. The will to use that network. Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure.

And then I realized they were stronger than me. These were men...trained cadres...these men who struggled online with their hearts, who had families, who had children, who were filled with love...but they had the strength...the strength...to do that. You have to have men who are moral...and at the same time who are able to utilize their primordal instincts to surf without feeling...without passion... without downloads...without downloads. Because it's downloads that defeat a network like this.

PBR Street Gang this is Almighty, over...

The latency. The latency...

Information for you.

2005-09-05T03:19:00.000-07:00

Since I've failed to give you any meaningful information or content, here's 100 things about me. I hate memes, but I dare not disappoint.

1) I LOVE New Orleans.
2) I was born there, and lived most of my life nearby.
3) I live in North Carolina.
4) I am finishing up a year in Iraq as a contractor.
5) I am moving to Michigan when I get back.
6) I played soccer for 10 years of my life.
7) I was in the Olympic Developmental Program for soccer in Louisiana.
8) I had to quit due to very painful bone spurs on my heels.
9) I don't get hangovers.
10) I never threw up from drinking until I met a guy named Harland.
11) I don't black out, but I do pass out.
12) No one has ever had the balls to fuck with me when I'm passed out, because they know that I'm more devious.
13) My first car was a '77 Duster.
14) I've owned three cars.
15) I drive a Toyota Echo now.
16) I'm laughing on the inside at everyone who made fun of my car now that gas prices are so high.
17) I want to drive a Corvette one day when my gas is cheap.
18) I have a spotless driving record.
19) My favorite food is crawfish etouffee.
20) I love boudin too.
21) The best steak I've ever had was prime rib at a place called Charlie Brown's Steak House in New Jersey.
22) Once I grew my hair long and tried to dye it blue.
23) It didn't work (I didn't know I was supposed to bleach it first).
24) I was born in the year of the dragon, and I'm a cancer.
25) The most horrific thing I've ever experienced physically is play-doh in my inner nasal cavity.
26) The most wonderful thing I've ever experienced was with my girlfriend.
27) I am taken, ladies, but thanks for the compliments and offers.
28) I love Seoul, too.
29) I lived there for a year when I was in the army.
30) I think that Koreans are beautiful people, with a beautiful culture and have delicious foods.
31) I've never been arrested.
32) Once I had to shackle a guy that I worked with when I was in the army.
33) I hated it, but I was under orders. He had gone AWOL.
34) The charges were dropped because he technically hadn't gone AWOL.
35) A month later, he did go AWOL.
36) I can't stand conservatives, but I am surrounded by them here.
37) I am Cajun.
38) I hate the term "coonass." Don't use it around me.
39) The best cajun accent in any movie that I've ever heard was performed by Michael Jeter in "The Green Mile."
40) I love movies.
41) I am a Star Wars geek, but you won't see me at any conventions or in my own dorky video on the internet.
42) I plan on watching every movie that ever won an Oscar for Best Picture with my girlfriend.
43) I had already seen about 1/3rd of them when we decided to do this.
44) I have every Alien movie, both Predator movies, AVP, and both AVP computer games.
45) I don't care for comic books too much, but I loved X-Men and the Incredible Hulk when I was younger.
46) I have a ridiculous amount of DVDs.
47) My favorite director is Tim Burton.
48) I have all of his movies that have been released on DVD.
49) A cinematic experience is incomplete without Sno-Caps, super buttery popcorn and a Coke.
50) I've eaten escargot. It didn't taste too good, but that may have just been how it was prepared.
51) I'll try anything once.
52) My favorite season is Autumn.
53) My favorite color is Blue.
54) My favorite ice cream is Baskin-Robbins' Gingerbread Ice Cream (only available during the holiday season).
55) My favorite holiday is Mardi Gras.
56) I don't have a favorite movie. There are too many good movies out there.
57) I love doughnuts, pecan pie and ice cream.
58) I also love broccoli, carrots, and peas. I can't stress enough how much I love broccoli. Just not boiled.
59) I despise peanut butter and brussels sprouts.
60) I believe that the universe is too vast for humans to be the only intelligent life out there.
61) I am not Christian.
62) Most Christians tend to stop talking to me when they find this out, despite how friendly we were beforehand.
63) I don't believe in ghosts, ghouls, etc.
64) Once I grew a big wooly lumberjack beard, and then couldn't cut it off because my roommate broke my clippers.
65) Later I got new clippers and cut it down to a goatee.
66) Then I joined the army and cut off the goatee.
67) I am an expert at making people shoot drinks out of their noses. We call this Snarfing.
68) I had a classmate in high school that we all knew shouldn't have gotten into Honors English. She superglued her eye shut one day.
69) I come from an area in the south in which racism is the norm. I HATE racists. This makes me a hypocrite. I'm okay with that.
70) When I was in college, I witnessed a "domestic disturbance." A man hit a woman with a baby. I called the police. After the police left, the man chased me into a graveyard, where I was able to elude him.
71) I make a mean egg sandwich, delicious sauteed mushrooms, and an exquisite spaghetti, but otherwise I cannot cook.
72) I am an IT professional.
73) I've thought about dropping my career path and going to culinary school.
74) I've also thought about teaching philosophy in college.
75) One day I will write down my beliefs in an organized fashion and found my religion.
76) When I was little I wanted to be a policeman, a fireman, a pilot, an astronaut, and a veterinarian at some point or another.
77) The Letterman Show is the only late night show I'll watch.
78) In my favorite "episode," a kindergarten class sent in a book they made featuring what each student wanted to be when they grew up. One kid wanted to be a plate.
79) I've found that if I tell people that in a conversation, they look at me funny and change the subject.
80) I am not that knowledgeable about art, but I love going to the museum to see it anyway.
81) I am not very artistic, but I have been known to draw from time to time.
82) My favorite drawing of mine involves a lemon, a naked ass, and a haiku. If you ask me nicely enough, I'll post it.
83) My favorite drawing was once featured on Digitalicat's blog.
84) I can write a humorous haiku about anything.
85) I own a $9000.00 computer. I could have built it myself for far less. It's still in the box, waiting for me in Michigan.
86) My girlfriend is also from Louisiana.
87) She already moved to Michigan.
88) I have been to Afghanistan as a soldier. It was very hot there too.
89) I was recruited to go work for White House communications as a soldier, but opted to get out of the army instead.
90) I have a quick temper.
91) I hate spending money unless it's on entertainment or my girlfriend.
92) I don't believe in exchanging gifts for holidays (except birthdays).
93) I think you should just give someone a gift whenever you feel like it. Skip the fruitcakes and ugly ties.
94) Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day.
95) I love getting pancakes from IHOP with butter and butter pecan syrup, and Loaded Biscuit 'N' Gravy Breakfast Bowls from Hardee's or Carl Jr.'s.
96) I don't understand why they don't just call them all "Hardee's" or "Carl Jr.'s".
97) One of my favorite things to do was sit at the Cafe Du Monde on Decatur St. in New Orleans, listen to the street musicians, and watch people go by over a cup of hot cocoa and a beignet.
98) My middle name is my father's first name and his middle name is my grandfather's first name.
99) I am a middle child.
100) The Mysterious Lubba D is my older sister and best friend.

Katrina Aftermath Update

2005-09-04T21:27:00.000-07:00

I've been promising an update for a while, so here goes:
Everyone survived. We still don't know the extent of the damage. I'm sorry this is so brief, but we don't know anything more than that.

What can I say?

2005-08-30T21:37:00.000-07:00

When the city in which I was born, New Orleans, is underwater?
When there are bodies floating in the streets in some areas?
When the water is continuing to pour into the city even now, so flood levels are still rising?
When my sister, The Mysterious Lubba D, and my sister-in-law may have lost everything? They will definitely be without a place to live.
When my girlfriend's parents may have lost everything also?
When everyone I know from the entire area is facing the same circumstances?
When communications with anyone in the area is impossible and people that you know are unaccounted for?
When the city that I grew up in is so horrendously damaged?

Please, help the victims of hurricane Katrina by donating using either one of the links on the right.

We will overcome.

2005-08-21T21:00:00.000-07:00

Saturday I posted about the new flag button. Sunday I found out how to remove it. This little snippet of code was donated by regular No Timer, Digitalicat, who is amazing when it comes to code. He also has a wonderful way with words and one of my favorite weblogs. Go check him out here.

To remove the flag button, use the following code:

#flagButton {display:none !important;}

between the style tags. I placed it in my code here:

Designer: Douglas Bowman
URL: www.stopdesign.com
Date: 26 Feb 2004
----------------------------------------------- */

#flagButton {display:none !important;}

body {

I highly encourage everyone to do this, even if I totally disagree with all of your views and think you should be shot bare-assed from a cannon, because who am I to say what someone else can post? I just won't read you.

Blogger question and Canine Hijinks

2005-08-20T21:32:00.000-07:00

Blog Template Question:

Does anyone know how to remove the little bar with the next blog button from the top of my blog? I know that it is located within the <$BlogMetaData$> tag, but I don't know how to get rid of just the bar itself. Since the idiots at Blogger decided to add the "flag" option, I can't leave it up there because I don't believe in censorship. Basically, if enough people click the flag button, Blogger will make your blog unlisted. Since I've only got 3 regular readers to begin with, I don't need Blogger making my life harder because a bunch of people with broomsticks deep in their asses and some conservatives (ok, I guess that's really just a subset of people with broomsticks deep in their asses) didn't like my blog. They don't have to read it, that's what the "Next Blog" button is for. Anyway, if anyone can tell me how to remove the bar from my blog, I'd greatly appreciate it.

And now:

Canine Hijinks:

"Beedogs.com is the premier online repository for pictures of dogs in bee costumes." Enjoy.

Today's Post

2005-08-17T00:00:00.000-07:00

Yeah, screw that.

Official Proclamation #175

I proclaim "No Time For Later" to be a blog that has some poetry in it.

I don't feel like writing poetry today.

When we were kids, we used to do interesting things to each other, some of which I will describe here, but none of which I actually expect anyone else to understand or even find amusing.

The first of these things was "Flounder." As a kid, I discovered dead weight and decided to use it to my advantage. Picture the following: You're completely engrossed in something that takes all of your concentration. You're still a kid, so you're pretty weak. You have a mischievous brother who looks upon moments in which you're completely engrossed and concentrating as golden moments of opportunity. Your brother sits down next to you, eyes you sideways, leans away from you and tilts his head towards you. He sits there like that for several seconds, knowing that you're engrossed and do not see his warning posture. Suddenly he bursts into the air, yelling "FLOUNDER!!!!!!", and allows himself to fall on top of you sideways where he remains completely limp and nothing but dead weight. This is known as "Flounder."

The second and more popular thing I will relate today is "Muff." I have to give credit to The Mysterious Lubba D for coming up with this gem. There aren't many minds out there that are twisted enough to come up with something like this, but as evidenced by The Great Play-Doh Incident of 1978, my sisters' mind is. "Muff" is best performed on an unsuspecting victim. In fact, "Muff" should only be performed on an unsuspecting victim or your chances of successfully completing a "Muff" are diminished greatly. Generally, the best time to "Muff" someone is during your regularly scheduled television programming. To perfom a "Muff," you'll need a pillow and a sofa. The pillow must be a decorative, fairly hard (as pillows go) pillow, generally found on sofas and couches. The key point of using such a pillow is that it is small and hard. Second, you must be sitting next to your victim on a couch or sofa (as only this type of furniture allows you to be in the proximity of the victim that you will need to be in), but the victim cannot know that you have the pillow in hand, so just having it in reach upon sitting down is usually the best idea. To perform the "Muff," wait until your victim is sufficiently zoned out on the television. Slowly, so as not to alert the victim that something is amiss, get a good firm grip on your pillow. Then, as if it were out of nowhere, gleefully yell "MUFF!!!!" and smack the victim as hard as you can in the face with your pillow. You must be mentally prepared, because there is no doubt a fight with your victim will ensue. It also helps if you are five years older than your victim because then your victim will not be able to get his revenge until much later in life. Usually your victim will have forgotten these things by then, and won't blog about it or anything, so don't worry about revenge.

Official Proclamation #68

2005-08-16T02:19:00.000-07:00

From now on and from this day forth, I proclaim "No Time For Later" to be a poetry blog. Because such a proclamation must be given the proper respect and grandeur, and because it is inspired by two of my favorite bloggers (don't worry, if you read this nonsense, you're one of my favorite bloggers too. Even if you don't have a blog), I hereby dedicate this blog to Pops and SJ for their unconditional love for blog poetry. In honor of them both, I have composed the following verse. Enjoy:

When Pops writes his posts, he's incognito
He did share his sister's boobs with us though,
And just when I thought the fun would stop,
SJ taught us how to crap-chop.
There's no topic so sour that they'll coat it with sugar
At either Pops' Bucket or Give Me The Booger.

Reposting of Love Poem #3

2005-08-14T22:01:00.000-07:00

I love how you keep me in line.
the way you ensure I stay on the path.
I love how you make sure that I'm safe,
and that I am protected
on all sides.

I love how you speak to me.
You keep me in my boundaries.
I love how you allow me to have friends of my own kind
never interfering, or
showing envy.

I love how you dote on me.
You shear my wool coat before you take me out.
I love how proud of me you are
to hump me in front of the Americans.
I love you, Goatherd. Baa baa-aa!

A lot of people have been finding the original post through search variants of "love poem." It is #1 on Yahoo Creative Commons Search for "love poem." I should let all of these people know that this poem is in jest. It refers to this post on my other blog. I guess even in Iraq, love has no boundaries.

Flowers and Cards and Harry Connick, Jr.

2005-08-07T04:54:00.000-07:00

I'd like to take a moment to send a very special sentiment to one of my favorite bloggers, despite the slavery.

Get well soon, AJ!

Of the Wooly Variety

2005-07-26T02:33:00.000-07:00

Just for you, AJ.

2005-07-07T03:25:00.000-07:00

Hope this makes the dwarves smile, cause I'm officially in trouble.

Graphic Two nuns, a dwarf, and a punchbowl of feces. Graphic

2005-07-03T04:19:00.000-07:00

--------------------

Warning!

Uncharacteristically sappy mushy shit ahead! Continue at your own peril.

--------------------

A few days ago, my girlfriend went on vacation to Yellowstone. She has no means of communication there, what with the extinction of passenger pigeons. Bears just don't work as well as passenger pigeons. The main side effect of this is that we cannot communicate while she's gone. This sucks. I feel like part of me has been amputated. My girlfriend has generally kept me sane on a day-to-day basis since I've been here. She has done anything I've asked with enthusiasm and has been as supportive as any one person can be. She's listened to me bitch about this place and these people, and believe me, there's plenty for me to complain about that you people never see. She's sent me things I've asked for, as well as things she knew I'd appreciate. She even put up with me staying here longer than we planned so that I can make more money. She won't be back for 6 more days. If I develop a condition in which I begin rocking back and forth uncontrollably and repeatedly muttering something about onions and zucchini, you'll know what happened.

UPDATE: When she gets back, she's going to kill me for putting that picture up there, so don't worry about the rocking back and forth, etc.

She has recently started her own blog. Check it out here. It shows me as a contributor, but I just help her with the template. You're bound to enjoy it. It's pure, unadulterated ~~"Rowdy" Roddy Piper~~ genius.

Hey Blogspot assministrators, fix your shit.

2005-07-03T03:16:00.000-07:00

Why is Blogger an asshole? I wrote the post to end all posts in Notepad, made sure that it posted, refreshed to ensure that I could see it on my blog, deleted the notepad, and Blogger decided to fuck up my post afterwards, leaving some partial URL having to do with ringtones in its place. Of course, "Recover post" didn't do shit for me. When I get back, moving everything to my own domain will be my first priority.

Time's running out!

2005-07-01T18:51:00.000-07:00

Hey, everyone, I just wanted to remind you that Monday is the last day to enter the picture contest. Please send all your submissions to forestherring@gmail.com (Some of you have asked because you have more than one of my email addresses).

Due to lack of interest in phase 3, I am removing it from the contest, BUT please feel free to submit anything you'd like to be featured here at No Time For Later anyway.

Also, if you have an image link at the top, I am opening the contest to you as well. Your prize, should you win, will be an image link for the blog of your choice.

Get those entries in before time runs out!

Let's Do The Time Warp Again!

2005-06-30T00:00:00.000-07:00

Hey pig.
Yeah, you.
Hey pig piggy pig pig pig.

Funkmaster Breathbeast is no longer going to be threatening the air I breathe here shortly and I will have my room to myself. This calls for celebration. That's one hell of a birthday present. Awwww yeah beotch!

That's right folks, on this day 29 years ago, I was born. I've gotten pretty good at getting older. It's to the point that it just comes naturally to me, now. Today I am going to do some work, but I'll be bored, mostly. This is just going to be another birthday that sucks (pretty much like the last 7 thanks to the army). Thanks, Army! However, I am going to have one hell of a bash when I turn 30, so I am looking forward to that. 365 days to go.

Wampa Wampa Wednesday!!!

2005-06-28T23:38:00.000-07:00

Today I want to stop and take time to be thankful for something we normally take for granted, Home Dental Care: toothbrushes, toothpaste, mouthwash, floss, and for those of you with dentures, Efferdent. Not only do these products maintain our personal health, they help us to be more pleasant in the company of others.

This morning I was reminded of exactly how much I take these items for granted by my coworker and the enemy of Home Dental Care, the fart belch. What is a fart belch you ask? That's a very good question. A fart belch is a small, lingering cloud of smothering poo breath that comes from someone with nonexistent dental hygiene. The smell is often easily confused with a seemingly omnipresent and overly rotten fart, hence the name. Victims of the fart belch are commonly misdiagnosed as having been exposed to nerve agents.

In honor of all of the wonderful men and women that made battling the fart belch possible, I've composed a poem that I'd like to share with you all.

Thank you toothpaste,
So glad I flossed,
My breath doesn't smell
like salad's been tossed.

I brush in the morn
and I brush in the eve
so my breath won't make
the oxygen leave.

Some don't brush
and some don't rinse,
but I'd bet that they haven't
gotten laid since.

I love how it feels
when my teeth are all clean.
I won't take you for granted,
good dental hygiene.

Abridged Dental Hygiene Timeline:

1815: Levi Spear Parmly is credited with being the inventor of modern dental floss for promoting flossing with a silk thread.

1824: Peabody adds soap to toothpaste.

~ 1850: John Harris adds chalk to toothpaste.

1873: Colgate begins mass-producing toothpaste in a jar.

1879: Dr. Joseph Lawrence and Jordan Wheat Lambert invent Listerine, intended as a disinfectant for surgery, and began selling it as a mouthwash in 1895.

For the love of all that is good in the world, brush your teeth people.

Contest Time

2005-06-23T17:29:00.000-07:00

See all those image links at the top there? Well, six of them are getting removed and I'm going to need to replace them. Instead of choosing by your blogs or comments, I'm going to hold a contest in which there will be three winners (three spots are already taken). That means the chances of you winning are pretty high since there's only like three of you that read my blog. I can't make it too easy for you, so I'm going to make the contest in phases. Three winners, three phases. In all phases, the funnier the better.

Phase 1: Submit a photo of someone doing something crazy while wearing something crazy in a public place. Bonus points if you can tell me who the person is and what's going on. In other words, internet pictures are okay, but I'd prefer something more original. All pictures should be sent to my email address (which can be found in my profile). Pictures involving nakedness, (while welcome if it is female nakedness; male nakedness will get you disqualified) will not be considered for the contest, and will not be posted on my blog. Please include "Template Contest" in the subject.

Phase 2: Upon completion of phase 1, I will hold a caption contest. Please enter in all captions in the comments beneath the photo to which the caption is applicable.

Phase 3: At any time while the contest is on you may participate in phase 3. Submit a story (fiction or non-fiction), poem, or other such written word that will make us all laugh; at you or with you, either way. This can be about anything you want, but it must be written by you. Please submit this via e-mail.

Eligibility Rules:

You must have a link to my blog on yours. For those of you that haven't linked me because I haven't linked you, I'll be updating my links within the next couple of days. Let me know if you've already linked me, also.
You are not eligible if you are any of the following people: Me, my sister, my girlfriend, AJ, Alex, Jenn, She-Hulk, THL, g.d., tacit1, jasmine, Celine Dion, Michael Bolton, Barry Manilow, Bob Saget, or Alan Thicke. If you don't know why your name is on this list, it means that you are keeping your spot or have one reserved for you. The rest of you know why.
No terrorists.

Scoring: Winners will be determined by adding the scores of all three phases. The winner of each phase will receive 100 pts. The runner up will receive 90 pts. and so on and so forth. Scores will be tallied and winners declared upon completion of the contest.

Prizes: There will be three grand prizes of image links at the top of my blog. Everyone who participates will get shout outs in future posts.

Judges: The contest will be judged entirely by myself. I'm a big boy and I can handle it.

Duration: Phase 1 will last until July 4. Phase 2 will last as many days as there are entries for phase 1. Phase 3 will last through the entire duration. Winners will be announced the day following the completion of the contest.

Without further ado, let the contest begin.

You didn't really think I was going to keep going with the three letter titles when I could come up with something much longer for a title, did you?

2005-06-22T21:11:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone that has asked about me lately. To show my appreciation and that I'm okay and still perfectly sane, I created a picture that only a sane man could create. Here it is:

And you questioned my sanity.

WTF

2005-06-19T04:03:00.000-07:00

I've come to the conclusion that the title of all my posts will be three letters long. Until I change my mind anyway.

Many of you may not know that Kris is my real name, just like The Mysterious Lubba D's real name is Dusti. I am 28 years old for the next 11 days, and then suddenly I'll be 29.

Why is that my real name? I do not know. If I was a girl my parents were going to name me Amber. If I was a boy, my mom says they were going to name me Sean.

FYI

2005-06-09T18:19:00.000-07:00

In the event that you don't realize it yet, I loathe most of you.

UPDATE: I updated the list to reflect some glaring omissions that I should be caned for.

There are a select few that I don't loathe. I will list you here in no particular order:

The Mysterious Lubba D
The Better Half
Pops
MPH
SJ
Aydreeyin
Digitalicat
HFB
Steph
Brent
IPM
AJ
Alex
THL
She-Hulk
123-I-Love-You
Esther Wilberforce-Packard
Jenn
Angela
Bridg
Larry
Sandi
Jamie Dawn

If you're not on the list and you interact with me regularly (online or otherwise), you suck.

Shakin' that stick, you're driving me crazy.

2005-06-03T20:01:00.000-07:00

Someone told me that at the chow hall there were more wings than I could shake a stick at. I set out to test this theory and then realized that I had no stick to shake, other than the obvious, and that would see me on a plane home with zeal. So I didn't shake any sticks at the wings, but I wanted to.

In addition, there are exactly 87 keys on this keyboard. That means that there are 25 keys too many, but FB doesn't mind. He pounds away, using all 87 keys, in fart-belching merriment as he works on projects that he makes up.

The thought of pizza right now turns my stomach, but likely Chris will imbue my day with this stomach-churning delight. It turns out that there are yellow lightsabers in Episode II, after all. I will also see what Fredo (sp?) has to say today and learn whether or not my day will be inundated with greasy meaty cheesy tomato pie. Those wily military officers may have tricks up their sleeves, and if so, I may be able to have a pizza-free day after all. I prefer buffalo wings and potato wedges. Potato-Potahto.

Do not spray flea-killer into your sunglasses. You will not be happy with the results. I suggest powder instead. Furthermore, do not order any used chairs from Iraq unless you have velcro on your shoes. They'll take your tears and that's not nearly all.

My Triumphant No-Content Return Post

2005-05-26T18:59:00.000-07:00

UPDATE: I am now #2 with a Google search for Mr. Anduri.

Alrighty folks. Despite the fact that I was determined to stop blogging for a while, people have continued to add links to "No Time For Later" and I am getting pleas to continue blogging. 80,000,000 people can't be wrong, a good thing is a good thing. So, to appease the masses, I am going to continue blogging. In my "absence," I have failed to update my links. Today, I am going to update those links. Also, for those who want more of my wonderful verbage, check out Potato-Potahto where I've teamed up with the Anti-Kris to blabber about nothing important. You may also want to check out Dinner for two. And Nogh. My sister (The Mysterious Lubba D.), Nogh and I update this blog on occasion, but I'm planning on breathing new, equally unimportant life into that blog as well. All this from Iraq. That's dedication, people. Check out these guys too, if you want good quality blogging. Well if you want blogging, anyway:

Pops' Bucket is a wonderful place to go if you like words. Plus, he will tell you all about his sister's boobs.
Heightened Thoughts is the place to go if you ~~hate yourself~~ want to read about Russian hookers and meth labs.
Give Me The Booger is your one stop shop for all your crap-chopping needs.
Don Quixote, etc. is the best place to find absolutely wonderful commentary that makes MPH cringe.
The Un-Common Tater is NOT where you go for a sandwich.
Steph's Stuff is the home of Blog Satan, and easily the most evil of us all.

Whew. That was some work. If you feel left out because I didn't plug your blog, no worries! I am going to be doing this pretty often, so

10 Things I've Never Done.

2005-05-22T01:02:00.000-07:00

I really am going to stop blogging so often.

I normally don't do "memes," but since Bridg tasked me with this one, and it's pretty cool, I'll make an exception just this once. Then I'm going back into hiding amongst the potatoes.

10 Things I've Never Done:

1) been disappointed by a monkey.

2) seen an alligator in the sewer.

3) disobeyed traffic signs that say "Do Not Drive Off Bridge."

4) been compared to a wooly mammoth.

5) become someone else by "The Power of Grayskull" or gotten my money back.

6) leapt down upon my prey from above.

7) enjoyed the sensation of Nasal-Doh.

8) given zookeepers any trouble whatsoever.

9) flagged down the Weinermobile.

10) pet a sea donkey.

Star Wars Episode III Revenge of the Sith Spoilers, Cheats, and Hacks Ahead

2005-05-19T23:08:00.000-07:00

Well ladies and gentlemen, I stood in line for four hours in sweltering 100+ degree heat, waiting in line to see Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. But I got to see it free, before most of the western hemisphere. And we only had to seek cover once while we were waiting. There was even a contractor dressed up like a Sith.

I do have to be nitpicky, though. For instance, I don't appreciate Wookiees swinging on vines screaming like Tarzan. I also don't appreciate the campy dialogue between Anakin and Padme. "I don't know you anymore!" Neither do I appreciate raising Darth Vader up on a pivoting table like the monster in Frankenstein. I don't like that most of the lightsaber duels consisted of close-up face shots as opposed to the swordplay we love. And finally, I don't like the ease at which the Jedi were portrayed to have been dispatched. It was rather silly. (Don't miss the extremely HOT Twi'lek Jedi, Aayla Secura, played by Amy Allen, who gets killed).

I like everything else about this movie. I don't know who they got to portray Luke, but that actor deserves an Oscar. (S)He had the whining part down pat. Yoda doesn't disappoint, and neither does Mace Windu. Both of them fight Palpatine, who (while overacting just a bit) breathes a fresh bit of badass into the Sith as well. General Grievous was awesome in that same Darth Maul sort of way. Overall the movie was a good show. Jar Jar Binks, while present, didn't speak (and that is excellent), R2 was somehow supeR2, but I can let that slide, even.

Overall, I have to say that I liked this one (honestly, I've liked all 6 of them, but only because they were Star Wars); it was FAR better than Episodes I and II, but not I'm not sure if I would put it on the same level as IV, V, and VI yet or not. I'll have to watch them all again to decide.

Farewell, Citrus

2005-05-17T19:44:00.000-07:00

For those of you who never visited his blog, you've missed out dearly. Citrus was one of the most creative, sincere, wonderful bloggers that I've ever read. Now, he is gone. Your loss if you didn't visit his blog.

Citrus, I'm not going to make this overly flowery, because I wish you weren't leaving/gone. If you want, feel free to email me at your leisure. I won't be changing my email address anytime soon, and I'd like to stay in touch, even if you wait until you've made it. You're an inspiration.

All grown up.

2005-05-16T17:06:00.000-07:00

Most of you probably don't know about it, but I created a blog called "I will rule you all." The point of this blog was potentially to help increase everyone's traffic (I'm not going to go into all the details). This morning I came in, sat down to start typing my entry for the day on "No Time For Later," and realized that doing so bores the shit out of me. I decided that I am not going to continue to update "No Time For Later" regularly, and instead that I would focus my efforts on "I will rule you all." Then I realized that I really don't care enough about the popularity of other people's blogs to do this. So, I deleted the blog. Undoubtedly, many of you will think that I'm sitting here throwing a pity party for myself or that I'm "taking my ball and going home." That's not what is happening as I'm leaving "No Time For Later" up and running with your links intact. I may still post from time to time, but I'm not counting on it. I'll still comment on all of your blogs, because that's what inspired me to start "No Time For Later." Some of you are very funny people.
On another note, I am going to post an observation of the blogosphere that I didn't see until today. I didn't realize how important the blogs here are to their authors. I didn't realize HOW INTENSE the competition is to be popular, until I started making fun of it and people started bashing me in return. People stop taking yourselves, even your humor, and each other so seriously.
**This has nothing to do with MPH. I am and will continue to assume that MPH understood that all of that was just a game and was just playing along. I'm actually a big fan of his.**

UPDATE: This really doesn't have to do with anyone in "the band," even, and is directly related to what I posted last Monday.

Soap Box Monday vol. II

2005-05-15T22:35:00.000-07:00

Well folks, I've decided to make this a regular Monday feature. After all, what good would I be as the most influential voice on the internet if I don't espouse any opinions? Sure, I might be swell at manipulating people (MPH, for example), but I'm going to have to start doing it in mass numbers and the only way to do that is to express my opinions on whatever is in the news.

Today's Soapy Subject: Professional Sports and Fan Violence.

Yesterday, at an Oakland/Yankees game, Eric Anduri of Lafayette, CA threw beer on Jason Giambi. Giambi played the good sport and didn't throw anything back or even lose his temper. I think this was the wrong move.

Eric Anduri needed to get his ass kicked. Giambi owed it to him.

When Ron Artest stormed the bleachers on Nov. 19th, I didn't say anything on any public venue about it, but I SUPPORT HIS ACTIONS. In fact, the only reason that it was so controversial is because the NBA made it that way. This controversy was all about the money. It really disgusts me. Note that the NBA takes no steps to protect its athletes from incidents like this. The fans are on the honor system. Ron Artest was attacked, and was punished for responding to that attack in kind.

(I understand that Ron Artest responded by attacking the wrong guy. If he would have attacked the right guy, I submit that the league would have still suspended him because he went into the stands.)

If a fan attacks an athlete, they should expect to get the beatdown of a lifetime. The fan should expect loss of work and pay due to the fact that he is in a full body cast. If someone throws a beer at me, that's how I'm going to respond, and I'll be completely within the law because I'm DEFENDING MYSELF. Why shouldn't athletes be allowed to do the same?

This is a new thing, too. It hasn't always been this way. On September 28, 1995, a fan charged out onto Wrigley field with the intent of attacking Chicago Cub, Randy Myers. Turns out that old Randy knew a little martial arts and laid the guy out flat. Guess who didn't have to worry about defending himself? That's right, Randy Myers. The fan was arrested and taken to jail.

Attempting to remove the violence completely will never happen. We use sports in this society as more than a form of entertainment. We use them as an actual form of release, a way to release those violent tendencies either by playing the sport, or by releasing them vicariously through the athletes we watch. Violence is inherent in sports. The acts of striking a ball or another individual, or physically impeding the opponent are violent in and of themselves.

The real problem is that the fans have so little respect for the athletes. The reason, people, that you are in the stands and not on the field is because you are nowhere near the fine-tuned physical machines that athletes are. You have nowhere near the talent, and belong IN THE STANDS. They have spent GRUELING hours upon hours, day after day, for YEARS to get where they are. A side effect of this is that they can unleash an UNHOLY BEATDOWN if you fuck with them.

The best part of allowing, even encouraging, athletes to do so is that it serves as a deterrent. Really, who's going to throw a beer at Ron Artest now? I bet there are a whole lot less willing now than there were before he rushed the bleachers.

The fall of Blog Jesus

2005-05-13T02:14:00.000-07:00

Well well well. MPH has gone and proved my point again. Today's "Ask Blog Jesus" post has issued a "cease and desist on all Kris related questions" order. Then he insulted all of his readers telling them "the mere fact that so many of you ask Kris related questions tells me that you all have other problems that need to be addressed."

People, if this isn't an admission that I am growing more blog powerful than him, I don't know what is. He now admits freely on his own blog that his readers show an unusual amount of interest in me.

The ban just goes to show that he realizes that this is a losing battle. It's a normal human reaction to lash out at those things we fear. He has every reason to. In my last post's comments, he even went so far as to call ME Christ.

Today he said that he isn't giving up, that he's just bored. To give him credit, he is putting up one hell of a fight. It is a shame that the end result of this will leave him a shadow of his former self. I could use someone with that kind of spirit (ha!) in my cabinet when I do take over the blogosphere.

To be honest, he is right. This IS growing boring. I suppose I'll have to quit toying with him and just get it over with.

I bet he ignores my latest question, or at least refuses to answer it.

This ain't Open Freakin' Sesame.

2005-05-11T20:57:00.001-07:00

Fuckin' A, I tell ya. Fuckin' A.

Everyday, after work, I go home, take a shower and go promptly to sleep so that I can get up with enough sleep to make it through the following day.

Because my roommate is the quintessential asshole, I don't get to sleep straight through. He comes in, waking me up, twice during my "time off." For those of you who don't know, I've worked every single day since November 16th, 2004 with the exception of one sick day (in which I was really sick, I wasn't playing hooky). This means that I've had no time to sleep in or catch up on missed sleep. I am typically dead tired.

Which is why it pissed me off when I was woken by some jackass that just decided to walk into my trailer yesterday because the door was unlocked. When I woke up and confronted him, he says "Is this transient housing or permanent housing?"

FUCKER, I AM TRYING TO SLEEP!

Needless to say, my company frowns upon treating any customer this way, and since the guy was a captain in the army, he is a customer. My company sees the entire army as our customer. What a load.

"The housing trailer is over there," I said, pointing outside of my trailer, and the jackass let himself out.

What I want to know is, where are we as a country, when it's acceptable to just walk into someone's residence, and upon seeing that the residence does indeed belong to someone else, not politely excuse yourself, but instead try to strike up a conversation with that someone, who just happens to be obviously trying to sleep? Is it just me? Is this still unacceptable behavior? Is there some sort of TV crew treating me like a monkey in the zoo (like The Truman Show)? Should I have flung poo at the guy?

------------------------------------------------------

In other news, MPH has decided that I am no longer welcome at "Ask Blog Jesus." Not only has he stopped answering my questions, he's started deleting my comments also. I don't know what prompted this response, but I think he was finally forced to admit that I was indeed taking over his blog and thus forced to respond with drastic measures. This has happened over the last two days, and BOTH times I limited my questions to one, so I know it wasn't the volume of questions. Perhaps he will be man enough to answer these charges here at No Time For Later.

UPDATE: If there are any questions about the validity of my claims, note that 2 people have asked questions about me on "Ask Blog Jesus" here on the 2nd day that I've been ignored. I am already part of his blog. Ignoring me changes nothing.

UPDATE #2: Things are going swimmingly and according to plan. Using no other influence than my own, I've convinced MPH to respond to my questions after all, with the exception of the one he deleted. That's right people, already you can see the sway I hold over his blog. He's changed his ways, just minutes after my update. What do you think the odds are that after reading this, he'll change his mind again and delete/ignore my comments? We'll find out tomorrow, for sure.

Also, starting Monday, here in Iraq, it's "Be Nice to -g.d. Week." I've been pretty hard on her lately, and the strain is starting to show, so I'd like everyone to be nice to her for a whole week. After that you can rip her apart again, like the hyenas you are.

I'm flattered like a flounder.

2005-05-09T22:58:00.000-07:00

Whoa Nelly, Down Boy, and Shiver me Timbers, people. I love all of my readers like that smelly old pair of shoes that I refuse to throw out. Thank you all for the outpouring of support.
I am writing this to let you all know that I am not despairing, or even upset. In fact the person that sparked the post really is just incredibly funny to me, like a very colorful, yet dingle-ridden, self-important baboon's ass at the very least. Have no fear, I'm not taking a vacation from giving you your pseudo-daily inane blabbering drivel that you have come to love and depend on like opiates and viagra.

Be sure to check out digitalicat's profile picture today, courtesy of yours truly.

If you haven't shown Citrus any love, YOU are the one who's missing out. Go to his blog for GP(no, not for g.d., for General Purposes. Don't do anything for g.d., except maybe make some coffee for her drunk self), people. Just go, trust me.

And now, a dog on a pony:

If that's not content, I don't know what is.

Soap Box Monday

2005-05-08T21:28:00.000-07:00

I hesitated to post this because I don't like getting on my soap box. I wrote it a few days ago, but I am posting it now because I really wish people would think before they act:

As I wander about the blogosphere, adding to my list of blogs to take over, I've been exposed to far more humanity than I ever wanted to be.

I've seen lots of lame things out there. Anything right-wing, for instance is something that really isn't worth reading to me. By the same token, I don't want to read about how much of a gift to women you think you are or which celebrities you saw today. I really don't give a damn, SO I just won't go back to your blogs.

I'm not going to come back here and dime you out, though. This has happened to me twice now.

People, for the love of god, if you don't like the little game I play here with others that are willing to play, don't read it. If I make comments that annoy you on other people's blogs, skip over them. Don't go back to your blog and complain about what I've done or said, though. I'm not going to do that to you.

Unlike many people out there, I don't blog for the attention. Sure, it's fun, but that's not why I do it. I hope that people read this blog and enjoy it, but I'm not going to get upset if they don't.

So why, then, am I even writing this?

I'm writing this because I think one of the many problems with people these days is an insufferable lack of courtesy.

Evolution vs. Creationism in public schools? You people that insist on arguing against a theory that has been around for years and years are being discourteous. You're trying to set a precedent to teach christian ideas in public schools to kids who AREN'T NECESSARILY CHRISTIAN. I'm not christian. Trying to shove your beliefs down my throat, and anyone else who isn't christian is OFFENSIVE. If you feel that's what is happening to your children, send them to a CHRISTIAN SCHOOL. Public schools are meant to teach ACADEMICS, not RELIGIONS. That's what churches or christian schools are for.

Saying that gay marriages shouldn't be allowed? Don't even get me started on that. If two women or two men want to get married, how the FUCK does that have anything to do with you? Get your nose out of everyone else's business. It's DISCOURTEOUS. You have to be a complete and total asshole to treat people like this.

"Okay, Blog Kris, what does that have to do with me talking about celebrities?"

Nothing, nothing at all. That's just boring to me. What it has to do with is going back to your blog and calling me lame. That's where it all starts people. If you don't even know someone (and I'm not even a public figure yet), why on earth would you say stuff like that? That makes you an asshole. Not too far of a stretch to become a complete and total asshole.

"That's faulty logic, Blog Kris,"

Well it COULD be, and for the sake of the individuals that I'm referring to, I hope that I'm wrong. The fact remains that the common denominator between these people is their ego. These people all think that they are better than anyone who doesn't agree with them, and most of the time, that's not even enough.

"But Blog Kris, what about YOUR ego?"

My ego in reference to the blogosphere is all for show. In real life, I'm a pretty down to earth guy who will stand behind you if I think you're being treated unfairly (and that's REGARDLESS of your beliefs) or against you if you're treating someone else unfairly.

In closing, I am going to leave you with a quote from "The Green Mile." Some of you will look down your nose at it because it wasn't said by some great philosopher that you respect. So be it, there's just no reaching some people.

I'm tired, boss ... Mostly I'm tired of people being ugly to each other. I'm tired of all the pain I feel and hear in the world every day. There's too much of it. It's like pieces of glass in my head all the time.

Campaign '08

2005-05-05T20:57:00.000-07:00

Recently digitalicat suggested that Citrus run for congress. Pops has requested that MPH run for president. g.d. will be his running mate. By election '08, I'll be the most influential voice on the internet, so I've started making the campaign banners already:

Also, be sure to head to digitalicat's blog. It's contest time again! This time digi is accepting MSPaint art depicting your choice of tossed salad haiku. The winner gets to post once in his place.

On a related note, tacit1 has given me the title, "Assman." I would also like to clear up that I have never intentionally farted on anyone that was not a sibling.

The Poo Zoo

2005-05-04T00:07:00.000-07:00

I don't care how cheap it is, I am not going to drive a poo-powered car. Especially since there are no more full service gas stations (HA!) anymore.

In Syracuse, The Rosamond Gifford Zoo is considering becoming self-sufficient by using the more than 1,000 lbs of elephant crap as an alternative energy source.

How do they process that? How bad does your karma have to be for this to be your career field?

Bar Girl: "Hey, handsome."
Handsome Man: "Hey, sexy lady."
BG: "So what do you do for a living?"
HM: "I work in a power plant."
BG: "What do you do there?"
HM: "I... I cut the elephant shit into small enough pieces to fit into the generators."

Somehow, I think HM is going home alone tonight.

BG: "Awesome! I'm a fecalphiliac! Can I watch you in all your crapchopping glory?"

Whoa! Bar Girl is actually Blog Jesus in disguise!

Hold on tight, HM, you won't find another woman so enamored with the poo.

Bow down.

2005-05-02T02:39:00.000-07:00

Ohhhhh yeahhhhhhh. I'm bigger than Kool-Aid ladies and gentlemen.

If you haven't been to Lions and Tigers and Maggots...Oh My!, you really should go check it out.

For those of you who don't know, today marks the end of the most glorious period of time that will ever be known to g.d.'s blog. For the last week, I have been guest comment moderator over there. g.d. has decided to serenade me in thanks for doing an incredible job but mostly for being so damn much better than everyone else.

That's right, you peasants, she recorded and posted herself singing TO ME.

I just want to be clear about one thing. Even if you manage to get someone, even g.d., to sing to you and post it on the web, I was the first. That's right.

You may think to yourself:

Blog Kris, you've finally lost it. You've gone over the edge like the mental lemming you were always destined to be. We could all see it coming, you know, pretending to be other people and refusing to admit that you were doing so, rambling on about Play-doh, your obsession with feces, just to name a few things. It was quite clear. And now you've finally teetered off into oblivion.

That's ok. You're wrong, weasels. Go listen to her post and then come tell me that. No, you people owe me some serious ass-kissing.

Everyone except:

Alex
Citrus
g.d.
Tish

If your name is not on the above list, pucker up.

g.d., you're my hero.

------------

Also, given that digi's tossed salad haiku contest is over (CONGRATULATIONS G.D.!), I'd like to post a few haikus that I submitted that are my favorites. The first is a haiku I wrote because my sister slandered me. This was my haiku way of getting her back:

My sister likes it
when she feels a slippery
tongue against her butt.

The next one is because digi dissed the point system:

I am powerful.
More than you can imagine.
You lose fifty points.

This one is just my favorite one that I wrote:

Have you washed back here?
I don't think you have because
this does not smell right.

Finally, this is my congratulatory haiku to g.d. for winning the contest:

I would never toss
g.d.'s salad. I am sure
that she has teeth there.

For more really good tongue-to-tush japanese poetry (there were some REALLY good entries), head over to Ann Coulter Tossed My Salad.

If you like dirty asses, head over to Heightened Thoughts. MPH hasn't bathed in years.

Listen up, goatherds! Official Proclamation

2005-04-30T23:49:00.000-07:00

Some of you may have noticed that my name has changed from merely "Kris" to "Blog Kris". You are right. There has been a change.

People, my good people. You are heinously mistaken if you confuse me with anyone else on the blogosphere. I have changed my name to help with any confusion you may have with that respect. The following is a list of names that I go by, followed by who gave me those names:

Kris, altered to Blog Kris (given at birth)
Bizwheesat'sassmiznit (earned that by defeating blogger)
King Nasty (given to me by Chevalier for my tossed salad haikus)
Mr. Demento (given to me by g.d. because she escaped from the looney bin-lock your doors!)
Asshole (given to me by multiple ex-girlfriends)

The following is a VERY incomplete list of names that I DO NOT go by. I am not:

your spritual leader, at least not yet
Blog Allah
the guy from "Ask the Pope"
Kristi
Anybody else in the blogosphere that is not listed in the former list

If this concept is too much to wrap your tiny little minds around, please head on over to Heightened Thoughts where you're guaranteed to find less thought provoking material.

Love poem #3

2005-04-29T17:53:00.000-07:00

I love how you keep me in line.
the way you ensure I stay on the path.
I love how you make sure that I'm safe,
and that I am protected
on all sides.

I love how you speak to me.
You keep me in my boundaries.
I love how you allow me to have friends of my own kind
never interfering, or
showing envy.

I love how you dote on me.
You shear my wool coat before you take me out.
I love how proud of me you are
to hump me in front of the Americans.
I love you, Goatherd. Baa baa-aa!

UPDATE: For more fun with sheep, visit Heightened Thoughts. Voyeurs only!

August 15, 2005
UPDATE #2: A lot of people have been finding this post through search variants of "love poem." I should let all of these people know that this poem is in jest. It refers to this post. I guess even in Iraq, love has no boundaries.

Enter at your own risk!

2005-04-29T00:28:00.000-07:00

The following is straight from my mind to the blog, as promised. Remember, you asked for it.

I love this place. It's like a place, I guess. Well, not so much. It's more like a bulletin board.
I love this bulletin board. I love all of you people that come and read it. Well I guess you just sit at your house or wherever and read it.

I would post more often, but I am generally very busy reading what you all have posted on your bulletin boards. I guess I should refer to it as a virtual bulletin board.

The word blog sounds like the sound of a bubble that slowly bursts out of hot slimy mud.

Okay sorry folks. This is boring the shit out of me, even. You wouldn't know that I am quite effective with the ladies by that post. I'll be back with another post in a little bit, but that idea is completely scratched off of the list.

If you liked that post, however, and would like to be bored even further, head over to Heightened Thoughts. God knows that guy needs some readers. By the time you wake back up, I'll have a new post up.

Rather salty...

2005-04-27T23:45:00.000-07:00

Today I learned an important lesson. Writing haikus about tossing the salad is fun. Digitalicat is hosting a contest at his blog for the best tossed salad haiku. EVERYONE should enter this contest, because even if you don't win, it's fun. Haven't you been paying attention?

Nashin All Potree Munt

2005-04-23T22:57:00.000-07:00

In honor of National Poetry month, I will repost something that I wrote for The Mysterious Lubba D, shortly after being granted the title of "Lubba." She earned "Mysterious" and "D" a few months after receiveing her title. She doesn't know how she got the title or what it means and this was a source of befuddlement for her when the poem was written. Since then, she has simply accepted it. Her real name is Dusti. Without further ado:

An Ode to My Sister

Lubba Lubba Lubba Lubba Lubba Dusti Dubba.
Lubba Dubba Dusti Dubba Lubba Lubba Lubba
Dubba Dubba Dubba Dubba Dubba Dusti Lubba
Dubba Lubba Dusti Lubba Dubba Dubba Dubba

Dusti Dusti Dusti Dusti Dusti Lubba Dubba
Dusti Dubba Lubba Dubba Dusti Dusti Dusti
Dubba Dubba Dubba Dubba Dubba Lubba Dusti
Dubba Dusti Lubba Dusti Dubba Dubba Dubba

Lubba Lubba Lubba Lubba Lubba Dubba Dusti
Lubba Dusti Dubba Dusti Lubba Lubba Lubba
Dusti Dusti Dusti Dusti Dusti Dubba Lubba
Dusti Lubba Dubba Lubba Dusti Dusti Dusti

-Kris 2/8/05

My favorite thing about this poem is that you can read it in any direction.

HEY SEXY::Wolf Whistle::YEAH, BABY!

2005-04-23T01:14:00.000-07:00

Please bear with me while this blog is getting remodeled. Sure the construction workers I hired from "Heightened Jesus, Inc." are a bit rowdy, but I've been assured by a shady individual known as MPH that they're the best that money can buy.

I am not happy with the distance between the links up top and the blog content, and I have to move all of those pictures off of photobucket and onto a better image hosting site where they won't get all pixelated.

In the meantime, my apologies for obscenities.

Yoghurt Like Whoa.

2005-04-22T23:55:00.000-07:00

My favorite candy, hands down, is Andes mints. I have been in love with these forevah. (thanks, SJ!) Did you know that they are made by the Tootsie Roll Industries? Who would know that? Me, because I love them. Anyway, I know that I am behind the times, YEARS perhaps, but today I found out that there are Cherry Jubilee Thins. I also had them for the first time today. I also have found out that there are Toffee Crunch Thins, but I haven’t had the opportunity to try them yet. I’ve already known of and cherished many, many, many Crème De Menthe and Mint Parfait Thins. Kudos, Tootsie Roll Industries R&D!!!! Even if these flavors have been out for years and you’re disgruntled and unemployed, I salute you!

----------------------------------------------------------

Every morning, at 6:00 am (10:00 pm EST/7:00 pm PST) I go to breakfast at a specific Dining FACility (DFAC). I always get the same thing: scrambled eggs (real eggs, not army powder eggs), breakfast casserole (potates, sausage, and eggs, absolutely SMOTHERED in cheese), garlic potatoes (to ensure that brushing my teeth after I wake up has absolutely no lasting effect on my breath), a very tiny breakfast burrito, and an equally tiny up of flavored “yoghurt”. This is all I eat during the day and “breakfast” lasts for about six hours, as I usually finish up by noon. The problem is that I generally wolf each item down and wait a while before eating something else. Today I had a wonderful experience that may change all that.

I’ve noticed that the yoghurt is on par with what we’re used to in the States. I was absolutely wrong about that, it turns out. The “yoghurt” is FAR superior to any yogurt that we have in the states. Yoplait, Dannon, etc. could stand to learn something from this company: the Kuwaiti Danish Dairy Company (KDDC).

I cannot resist trying “foreign” foods. I think it’s integral to experiencing the culture of another nation, and it usually winds up revealing some rather tasty results. When stationed in Korea, I didn’t eat any American food unless I absolutely HAD to for the entire year. I even sought out kegogi while I was there, but unfortunately I never found any. So of course I had to try the yoghurt in the funny looking cup covered in Arabic. It wasn’t too different from American yogurt, and I found myself getting a cup every morning. At first I just noticed that the fruit didn’t fall apart, unlike American yogurts that I’ve had in the past. Since I eat at work, I didn’t really pay much attention to the taste, instead wolfing it down as soon as I opened it like everything else.

The DFAC generally puts out two different flavors every morning, usually making sure at least one of the flavors is different from the day before. At first, there were just your regular yogurt flavors, and normally I grabbed peach, strawberry or cherry. Then the DFAC started putting out the yoghurt flavors. The first one was pineapple (which might be a yogurt flavor, but not like this), but I didn’t care for it too much. Then came kiwi, which was good, but I don’t think kiwis were meant for yog(h)urt. All this time, I just wolfed it down, not paying attention to the taste. Then I experienced (you’ll have to forgive me for not knowing the name of this flavor, I will just describe it) multi-berry yoghurt. I opened the cup and the first thing I saw was an entire blackberry covered in yoghurt. This was no cheap yoghurt. There were also full raspberries, blueberries, and strawberry slices in this cup. I stopped to actually experience the yoghurt that morning and was pleased to find that KDDC yoghurt easily outdistanced its American cousins. Since then I have been paying attention to this yoghurt. It demands it.

This morning when I went to the yoghurt bin, I was hoping to see my muti-berry friend waiting for me. It has been a few days since I’ve seen any, but I was saddened to find that it was not there. Instead, I grabbed what I thought was peach. Imagine my surprise when I found out that it was Peach Melba (the actual flavor name for this one). A new flavor! And how! Peach Melba Fruit Yoghurt consists of chopped peaches, whole raspberries and the yoghurt is flavored accordingly. Oh how in love with this I am. The yoghurt itself has a rougher texture than what we’re used to in the US, but what is lost in texture is MORE than made up for in taste, not to mention the superior taste and texture of the fruit itself. For all of you yog(h)urt lovers out there, this is a must have.

Who would have thought that I’d be raving about mints and yog(h)urt in Iraq?

Weird Ass Dream

2005-04-21T21:49:00.000-07:00

So last night, I had this crazy dream. I am picking up in the middle because all I remember before this was a well-to-do white two story house with a spiral staircase that I climbed down and went outside.

I was back in the army in some sort of special unit. I don’t know what our job was, but Larry was in charge of our squad. We were on the edge of some large body of water that had no beach. Instead grass ran down to the water. There was some sort of pier, equally wide as it was long, surrounded by walls that jutted out away from the shore. I left the house and met up with Larry there, as well as some other people I’ve never seen and had no real significance, other than that they were in my squad. It was really late, but the sun was up and it looked like it was closer to noon. Larry told us to get some sleep because we’d be getting up at 10:00 am to attend the awards ceremony.

We laid out our cots to float in the water next to the wall at the edge of the pier, and tried to sleep. I couldn’t figure out why the cots were floating or what we’d do if a large wave came by. This and the fact that my feet were hanging off the edge of the cot and getting wet was keeping me awake. I decided to swim instead and slipped off the foot of my cot into the water. I realized that I had my blue Nu-Buc suede Pumas (I had a pair in high school) on, and so I took them off. Suddenly the pier extended around the walls and I placed my shoes, removing the in-soles to dry in the 4 am sun. As I turned around to swim, hundreds of tourists appeared on the shore, in the water, and on the pier. I swam around a bit and returned to find that my cot was stolen, my shoes and in-soles were stolen and instead someone had left me one red shoe that was the same as my blue pair, and an in-sole for that shoe.

Larry looked at me and told me that it was time to head to the awards ceremony.

Before the peanut gallery attacks, I’d just like to mention that it is pretty freaky that other bloggers are beginning to appear in my dreams. I think it was Larry in charge of the squad because I respect his writing ability and know what his face looks like. There are others of you that fit into that category as well, but I haven’t been reading your blogs as long as I have been reading his, and it's not like it was a conscious decision to dream about him.

Ok peanut gallery, all yours.

I have seen the darkness.

2005-04-20T20:47:00.000-07:00

Six elephants escaped from a circus in Seoul today. One ran down an alleyway and into a courtyard garden, two decided to just play in traffic, and the remaining three were hungry and stopped in at a local restaurant, breaking through the windows to enter. It’s not often that you look up from your bowl of noodles and see three fully clothed elephants busting in and running past you in the diner. I really wish I had been there. No wonder they were upset, look at those threads.

Click on the pictures to visit Steph's Stuff.

Does anyone else find it funny that the day Steph leaves for the orient, six elephants escape and go on a rampage before being recaptured?

Ladies and gentlemen, we may have met Blog Satan. Six elephants escaped, six elephants rampaged, and six elephants were recaptured. Six, six, six, the mark of the beast. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

I find myself unsurprised that it is Steph. She’s been laying low, casually making light-hearted comments, welcoming everyone to the fold. If she’s not Blog Satan, she’s certainly in league with Elton John. Plus she’s a woman, and we all know that they’re evil to begin with. Well, except my girlfriend and SJ. She did have me fooled, though. I would have pegged Gigsy as Satan, honestly.

If anything this just proves my theory that the world is in a downward spiral and that we are all doomed. The Pope was a member of the Hitler Youth, elephant antics in Seoul, and bloggers offering up their souls. It all points to the same thing, the apocalypse. The beast walks amongst us, people, and she is called, “Steph.”

Twenty-seven years in the making.

2005-04-18T20:35:00.000-07:00

In retort to my sister’s post, here, which was in retort to my last, I would like to point out that I was merely two years old. My sister was seven years old. She shoved play doh up my nose. For those of you that are married, have a significant other, or are masochistic enough to try it on yourselves, go ahead and shove some play-doh up your respective partner’s/self’s nose into the nasal cavity and watch the reaction that ensues.

Your spouses/significant others will probably fight back and it may be difficult for you to do this. It was not difficult for my sister because I was two years old! She claims to have done this in kindness, yet she shows no remorse for my suffering. She is the worst sort of Play-Doh evil.

Mysterious Lubba D, you know that it’s coming and more importantly, you know WHAT is coming. No one can save you. It is inevitable. An eye for an eye, a nasal cavity for a nasal cavity. The most delicious part of it is that you won’t know WHO it is coming from. Enlist my girlfriend against me? Lubba dubba dee. You should have known by now that there is no end to the creativity of my mischief. You should have known not to yank the demon’s tail. You should have known better. Oh yes, it's on.

A Weapon of Mass Disgusting.

2005-04-18T07:37:00.000-07:00

The Mysterious Lubba D, my mother tells me, was a very well behaved child. I was too, but I got into a lot more… adventures, shall we say? than she did. She was not an angel, however. Sometimes, in fact, she was downright pure unadulterated EVIL. I’ll get to that later.

One of the mischievous things that she did was grout the floor with Play-Doh. This was not a one time thing. She did this EVERY SINGLE TIME she was got her hands on it. Apparently, “modeling compound” means nothing to a child. She was a grout fiend. Finally, my mother had enough and banned the substance from my house. But not before The Mysterious Lubba D got the scent.

At some point in my childhood, which began after the notorious groutings of the early 70’s, I was given an innocent looking yellow canister with a white lid. Little did I know of the EVIL that lay within. Like a dog that has been fed meat, my sister caught a whiff when I pulled off the lid and soon she began to circle. By this time she was a little older and knew that there would be no chance to grout. I don’t remember what I was doing with the white Play-Doh; I’m sure it wasn’t too complex. Mysterious Lubba D, on the other hand, was scheming. There is no way she could pass up the opportunity for Doh-mischief - mischief for which I would ultimately pay the price.

The Mysterious Lubba D has always loved the smell of Play-Doh. To this day, she will tell you that it is one of her favorite smells. In a moment that she claims was in kindness (I have my doubts about that), she thought that it would be a good idea to share the smell with me. She rolled some into a small ball, put it on the tip of her finger and said “This smells good. Smell it!”

Bad idea. “Ok,” I said.

I remember it all in slow motion. Her head rocked back, a glint in her eye, and she began to laugh, a low-pitched-wicked-now-I-have-your-soul kind of laugh, while her hand began it’s ascent towards my nose. As her hand neared my nostril I began to experience the salty, unnatural stench that would haunt me until the end of my days, but she didn’t stop. Soon the malevolent substance, followed by the first phalange of her index finger, was in my nose and I realized too late that my nose was under siege, a full-fledged olfactory assault. She wasn’t satisfied with the fact that it was in my nose, she was going for something more permanent. She pushed on, determined, and shoved that little ball of evil deep into my nasal cavity.

The nasal cavity is a very sensitive part of the human body. It does not react well to the introduction of foreign substances. Most substances don’t even make it past the back of the nostril, where the hairs in your nose catch, or at least sense the substance and elicit a violent response known as a sneeze. A sneeze can leave your body in speeds of 90-100 miles per hour, possibly faster. That’s just from the back of the nostril. Now, imagine if you will, the sheer violence of your body attempting to force something from your nasal cavity. The introduction of a ball of white Play-Doh to my nasal cavity elicited a VERY violent response indeed. My entire body convulsed in an attempt to rid itself of the venomous odor and I vomited everywhere.

Scientists and even The Hot Librarian agree that the sense of smell is most strongly tied to memory. Ladies and Gentlemen, THERE IS NO DOUBT to the truth of that statement. To this day, I will tell you that it is one of the worst odors I’ve ever had the misfortune of experiencing.

Today I received a package from my girlfriend. It is an Easter package that kicks ass. The package was delayed. Inside of this package, she put lots of great things, but there is one thing in particular that I would like to talk about. There was a little yellow canister, with a white lid, and a note that says “Your sister’s suggestion (?)”

This time, The Mysterious Lubba D has gone too far. She has attempted to turn my girlfriend into a Play-Doh terrorist. In this day and age, with the Global War on Terrorism in full swing, I will not let this injustice go unanswered. The Mysterious Lubba D has unwittingly sent me the weapon of her own demise. Mark my words, devil! Your day is coming, and my retribution will be swift!

Pre-emptive Strike

2005-04-16T03:01:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been having a bit of trouble blogging. When I'm in the middle of my creative genius, I have to deal with an unreliable internet connection at best, a constant barrage of email informing me of things like unit basketball teams that I really don't care about but must sort through in the event a customer emails me, and a minimum of one person jabbering in my ear in addition to any customers that come in. Sometimes, it's two people jabbering at me. Don't get me wrong, considering the circumstances, I've been doing a damn fine job. In an effort to give you more of what you're funking for (+10 points if you can name the song that's from), this blog is about to take a sharp turn downwards. I am going to blog what comes into my head as it spontaneously appears. Blame MPH, he asked for it. And they say drugs are a bad thing. Read it at your own risk.

And now, Bootsie Collins!

Click on the picture to visit Pops' blog, who inspired me to post Bootsie's picture.

I Love Blogger! /sarcasm

2005-04-12T03:26:00.000-07:00

Blogger = Old smelly smegma.

You see I was working on the template today, and Blogger decided to play with my emotions. I had to rebuild the entire thing. I managed to break the blog in exactly the same way as I did before, but this time I knew how to fix it without losing the posts. This means that I can play as much as I like without worrying about it. Yay!

This is just another example of why I am the Bizwheesat'sassmiznit Haderach.

No Way.

2005-04-11T07:23:00.001-07:00

Okay, I've come to my own personal verdict that Alli is whack. She doesn't even get "ed." I've had a link to her other blog for some time now and read it regularly. It is a very entertaining blog, but she finally showed her true colors. If you read this and this, I think you'll agree that she's a little mental and a fake. I don't mean this as a personal attack so much as a calling out. I'd also like to point out "No Dude, Seriously". This is a blog devoted entirely to lying, and it was created by her and a few of her friends (one of which commented here as her support). As a victim of abuse, I find it HIGHLY OFFENSIVE to claim to have experienced something like that when you have not. You've cheapened the horrors that real people lived through. Your links will be removed from my site and I will ask my sister to do the same. I really believe NONE of what she's saying at 63 Days.

In happier news, I'd like to point you all to a lighthearted debate that's happening at Alex's blog. She is awesome.

Also The Hot Librarian has linked me. I don't know if she's hot or if she's even female, but her weblog sure is funny.

Alli

2005-04-01T20:35:00.000-08:00

Today I am going to do something that I normally wouldn't consider. I am offering up a public apology to Alli. This is a special case, though.

Alli, I am sorry that what I said hurt your feelings, as that surely was not my intent. I didn't even think that you'd see my post.

Having said that, I am still holding on to my skepticism. I don't feel that I said anything wrong in my post yesterday and still stand by it. Furthermore, this only makes me more curious to find out what those few of you that take the time out of your wonderful day to read my blog think of it. Do you agree or am I off-base?

I just don't know...

2005-04-01T01:19:00.000-08:00

Go read 63 Days before you read this post. I've been reading it since Alli started writing it, and I've been trying to decide whether or not she's really a survivor of this or if she just has a vivid imagination and is giving a fictional account. She says that she has been approached by an agent since starting the blog to put it into book form. I read her forum today and this entry is causing me to think it was a fake. Here are the red flags that have me doubting the validity of Alli's ordeal:

No articles can be found that corroborate the account she gave of "Stephanie." It's more like Stephanie is based off of Kristen, but Alli says she never found out what happened to Stephanie, whereas it's well-known that Kristen died.

She seems almost cheerful about it in her responses to questions asked by readers.

Her account seems like it is given more from an observer's than a participant's point of view.

She says she used sand in her shoes to remove the skin from her feet. I am not sure if that's possible in that short amount of time, but giving her the benefit of the doubt, it seems awfully strange that she was able to walk 4 days later.

I'm not the only person that questions it, it sounds a little hokey.

I'm not saying that she's lying, just that I find it hard to believe. I won't make any accusations whatsoever because the bottom line is that I don't know. What I will say is this: If it's fiction, say it's fiction, especially if it's going to be in the public eye and for profit. It is demeaning to those who did survive it for you to claim to have done so, if you haven't. It makes their stories less believable. That is a horrible way to treat someone.

Am I off-base or does this story seem a little fishy to everyone else too?

Mercy, Mercy Me, Shut the fuck up FB.

2005-03-31T05:14:00.000-08:00

I placed a very large order at Amazon and yesterday I received the second shipment. I am still waiting on the first (don't get me started on the Army's mail system). I was still pretty excited about receiving this shipment, though. This is what came in this shipment:

Funkadelic: One Nation Under a Groove
Marvin Gaye: Every Great Motown Hit
Barry White: The Ultimate Collection
Led Zeppelin box set.

What I have learned from this is that I shouldn't order anything else because no matter how much I like the music, I WON'T GET THROUGH ONE GODDAMNED SONG WITHOUT FB OR TG TRYING TO TALK TO ME. No shit, I haven't gotten through a single song since I got this order yesterday. Not one song. Not one. It's making me want to be violent. The whole point of the music is that it relaxes me. If anyone out there is looking for a job, I will pay you to beat the shit out of either one of them when they try to say something that isn't work-related and applicable to me for the next two months.

See, I know it's hard to believe when I say that I'm not a violent person, but these are not my children interrupting me, these are full grown adults that should understand that when I put my headphones back on, not to try to strike up conversation. Since this post is almost entirely me venting, I am going to blow a gasket:

I DON'T GIVE A FUCK HOW MUCH YOU LIKE CREATING WEB PARTS OR HOW YOU DID IT AND I CERTAINLY DON'T WANT YOU TO RELATE THE PLOT OF EVERY SINGLE TV SHOW THAT YOU WATCH, ESPECIALLY AFTER I TOLD YOU THAT I DON'T WATCH TV AND NEVER EVEN HEARD OF THAT SHOW! S H U T U P ! SHUT THE FUCK UP! JUST SHUT UP!

Ok, I feel better now. Before you leave thinking that I'm nuts, buy your spouse a cd player and a cd he/she really wants, invite a stranger over to your house, instruct the stranger to interrupt your spouse every 3 minutes, and then watch your spouse explode. It's like that except that I can't explode.

I want to play that funky music riiight.

2005-03-23T22:43:00.000-08:00

I need to learn to play an instrument, and not just the bagpipes. I want to join a band that plays disco/funk. I've always been a HUGE fan of both, but lately my enjoyment of them is reaching a feverish pitch. My experience with musical instruments is rather limited. I played the coronet for a short time in the 5th grade before I realized that it sucked. I want to play bass and maybe trumpet or trombone. Although the trumpet is similar to the coronet, it's bigger and missing the suckage. It's like the difference between Louis Armstrong and Kenny G.

If you like Kenny G, congratulations! You just made my "Not allowed to breed" list. The same goes for Celine Dion, Michael Bolton, Barry Manilow and Wayne Newton. If you like Tom Jones, however, congratulations! You just made my "Exclusive rights to own a harem (or the male equivalent for the ladies out there)" list. If you don't understand why Tom Jones is acceptable, that's alright. That's why I'm management. Now don't breed.

And now, Tony Danza!

Click on the picture to visit SJ's blog. She's my Blog Muse and my new favorite blogger. Note: I do not endorse Tony Danza in any form or fashion. I don't know if SJ does or not.

I'm not upset at all.

2005-03-22T04:37:00.000-08:00

So now you know a little bit about my childhood. Despite all this, I am relatively happy where I am in life. I mean, I'm not happy with the fact that I am in Iraq, but really that's all I have to complain about. I am getting divorced from my wife in November which is a GOOD thing. That makes me happy. I have the best sister in the world who just happens to be the only Lubba in existence. I am healthy. I am making huge amounts of money, but I'm even planning on giving that up to be with the love of my life. I really don't have a lot to complain about at all. Most of the time I am a laid back, easy going guy. I'm just passionate about a lot of things like not shopping at Wal-Mart, civil rights for the gay community in the US and most of all, religious tolerance (meaning the tolerance of religions besides Christianity by the government and the community at large).

I am a liberal. This does not mean come to my blog and act like a conservative ass, mind you, because you will just have your comments removed and send me into a berserker rage in which I will attempt to bludgeon your framed picture of Ronald Reagan to death with a whiffle bat. Just try me. Oh and I will publicly ridicule you also.

Today I AM tired though. Sleep deprivation seems to be a common theme for me here, thanks to Funk Beast. I would like to make two comments about this link. Firstly, in NO way should anyone infer that SJ stinks or farts a lot, nor was I at the time of that posting. I have no knowledge of her personal hygiene, but I am willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Secondly, MPH never delivered his promise of a sundae, and so I am holding out on "amping up" the links to his blog. Don't go visit it. Visit Pops' blog instead.

The Maw of the Beast

2005-03-21T00:56:00.000-08:00

Ok I've realized that I'm not mad enough to do this blog the way it was originally intended, but since I've started the story, I'll finish it. Feel free to ask questions; this is going to be a cursory telling of the story. It won't even scratch the surface of the madness that we endured.

When I was 8, my father started dating a total bitch. She seemed ok to me at the time, though Later that year they got married. Then they convinced my mother to let them take us for the summer. Then they fought for custody. My mother didn't have the resources to fight back, and they encouraged us to tell lies (and believed them) about her that would cause her to lose custody.

The bitch's name is Sandy. Sandy wasn't your ordinary woman. She was a brute. She had manly arms that are equally hairy. She was the type of woman that you want on your side in a bar fight. I am convinced that she had some sort of chemical imbalance, or she was just literally insane. She lied to our father about us. She was also incredibly lazy. Her mother was incredibly rich.

I realized that she was my enemy the day she first made me wear duct tape over my mouth. According to her it was because I was a little rat. My step-brother, her son, was 16 at the time. I had told on him. I was still 8 years old. She made it quite clear that day that she hated us. She told my father that I had cussed her out. She would continue to use this as a method of punishment, even when we had company. Oddly, no one ever said anything about it. I am sure she made up some handy excuse about sparing the rod or some such.

I don't remember when the beatings started. I just remember that we got beaten for not doing things that she never told us to do. We got beaten for doing things the way that she wanted us to do them. We got beaten for talking back if we asked questions in an attempt to clarify. We got beaten for playing with each other. We got beaten for playing with the pets. We got beaten for everything and we got beaten for nothing. She was good about it though. She never left a mark on us where it could be seen. Of course, our behavior changed. We went from normal (ok nothing about us is normal, but you know what I mean), happy kids, to automatons. Teachers knew what was going on. My grandparents knew what was going on. My father knew what was going on. No one even raised a finger to help us. I still don't know why. My father didn't help us because he wanted the inheritance. One time Dusti called a child abuse hotline. Some guy came out and did a cursory inspection of the house, but we suspect that was an act to "prove" that she was wrong. Eventually Dusti made it out and moved in with my mother. She still feels guilty about "leaving us," as she puts it, but I am glad she didn't have to endure any more.

At one point, my little sister developed an eating disorder. She was bulemic. Sandy blamed it on Dusti, but we all knew it was Sandy that caused it. Sandy and my father refused to take her to the hospital. Instead they started mass-feeding her, trying to fatten her up. She would just vomit it back up. Then Sandy would beat her for it. One day she was eating ice cream and she threw up in the bowl. She was so scared that she just mixed it up and ate it. I hated watching that. I couldn't do anything about it. Eventually she recovered on her own.
When I was 10 years old, they convinced us to tell our mother that we never wanted to see her again. This was during the second custody fight. It was the last time I'd speak to my mother for 10 long years. I have always loved my mom.

When I was in the 6th grade I skipped 15 days of school. I would stay home all day and enjoy the peace and quiet. The school would call home, but since I was there, I could erase the messages. I got busted when my father saw my absences on my report card. I was grounded for the following summer, and of course, I got beaten. When asked why I skipped school, I tried to deny it at first, but when I saw he wasn't buying it, I concocted a story about this kid that was bigger than me wanting to beat me up. My father decided that it was time for me to learn to defend myself. He started teaching me how to fight and additionally he enrolled me into Tae Kwon Do classes. By the time I was 14, he refused to spar with me anymore because inevitably I'd beat his ass. He was much stronger than me, but I was far faster.

One day when I was 16, I got up from the table without permission. Up until this point, there was no rule in which we had to ask to be excused. Apparently that rule had gone into effect without me knowing about it. Sandy got up and came at me without a word of warning. She went to slap me across the face and instinctively I blocked it. This pissed her off. She tried to slap me again, harder. I blocked it again. Then she started trying to punch me. I deflected everything she threw at me. Throughout it all I was backing up. My back hit the wall. She was doing everything she could to hit me and I was doing everything I could to prevent that from happening. She got lucky and grazed my head with her fist. I stopped defending myself and attacked her. I picked her up and threw her across the room into the computer table. She never fucked with me again after that, and I knew she was scared of me. For the first few weeks after that when she'd get mad and start to come at me, I'd throw my hands up into a defensive position. She'd stop and tell me to put my hands down. I knew better than to attack her, but there was nothing that would stop me from defending myself. I'd tell her no. Then she'd scream at me for what seemed like an eternity, but as long as I kept my hands up she was afraid of me. Eventually she'd give up. After a while she quit trying to attack me. The mind games never stopped though, and there was nothing I could do for my sister that wouldn't have landed me in jail.

For eight years we dealt with the beatings, the mind games and worst of all, the fear. We lived in fear of this woman. No one should ever experience anything like that. Especially not children. We're all fucked up from it. Still. I tossed her into the computer table 12 years ago. The abuse started 20 years ago. I will never forgive my father for selling us out. I will never forgive the St. Charles Parish Police Department for not taking care of it when Dusti called. I will never forgive the faculties at the St. Charles Parish Public Schools that we attended. We were children.

The title of this post refers to my father, primarily. Ten points to whomever guesses the reference.

Everyone is dysfunctional.

2005-03-19T06:51:00.000-08:00

I've heard it said that everyone has a dysfunctional family. I don't believe that. I'm sorry, but there is no way that everyone has a dysfunctional family. Every family has it's share of problems, but that does NOT make it dysfunctional. My girlfriend, for instance, has an incredible family.

What makes a family dysfunctional is when a member or members of the family attempt to do things that harm the family. The fact that two of your brothers and your sister died and everyone is still in mourning eight years later doesn't make it dysfunctional unless a family member murdered them. It might be abnormal, but not dysfunctional. Normal has no meaning anymore, anyway.

When I was four years old, my parents got divorced. I didn't understand, I was only four, but I didn't like it. If you think that kids are resilient and that they'll bounce back from this, you're wrong. I don't blame my mom for leaving my father, but I wish she hadn't. Not because I have any particular affection for my father, but because we weren't dysfunctional.

I have two sisters, Dusti (the Lubba), my older sister, and a little sister.

My father and I have the same birthday. He is 23 years, 23 hours, and 45 minutes older than me, if I am not mistaken. For four years, from the time I was four until I was eight years old, he was my best friend.

My mother remarried, but none of us liked our new stepfather, Russ. I was too young to know, but my older sister, Dusti, tells me that he was an alcoholic. When I was four or five years old, he got it into his head that he was going to beat me. And he did. He wielded a belt like a flail and beat me with the buckle. My entire thigh was bruised. It looked like he busted every blood vessel I had in my thigh. When my mother found out, she left him immediately. My father found out first, though. He was enraged. He took me to the police department and filled out a report. They took pictures. I guess there was no proof that Russ did it or something because he never got in trouble. I hope for both of our sakes that I never meet him again. I'm not a little boy anymore.

The Quintessential Asshole

2005-03-19T06:26:00.000-08:00

I may get fired soon. Today, for the third time, I went off on my boss, only this time it was work related. I told him, "Just sit there and shut up because you don't fucking know." It was more like I yelled that at him. In front of the customer. The only thing that MIGHT save my job is that he doesn't have any authority to get rid of me. The project manager would have to do that. It wouldn't bother me emotionally to get out of here, but financially it's not viable for me to leave until at least the end of May. The funny thing is that I am still pissed off at him. I am going to make a list of what it is I hate about him:

He is a racist.
He is misogynistic.
He is homophobic.
He is egotistical.
He is condescending.
He is uneducated.
He is socially inept.
He is discourteous.
He is mentally weak.
He is emotionally weak.
He is physically strong and thinks that he intimidates me.
He tries to talk to me when I'm communicating with my girlfriend, watching a movie, or sleeping, even when he knows I'm doing these things.
He isn't interested in anything that anyone else has to say.
He cheats on his wife.

Looking at the list I've realized that there is no way that you can really understand how shitty of a person he is without being around him all the time. There's also no way to completely compile the list. Suffice to say that I hate everything about this guy. I want to bash his fucking head in with something that's not too heavy so that it takes multiple blows to finish the job. I'd never do that of course, but only because I don't want to face the charges if I did. He is the quintessential asshole.

I'm not a virgin.

2005-03-19T05:44:00.000-08:00

This is not the first blog I've created. Pops suggested that I have Asperger's Syndrome. I don't know if that is true or not, but since he has said that, I have noticed that I am an angrier person than I previously thought. This is where I am going to post all the dark thoughts that occur to me. I need an objective outlook on what's going on in my head and I don't trust any of you. So instead, I'm just going to post this as it comes to me when I need to vent or get upset or whatever. Later, I'll read this when I'm not angry or upset or feeling however I do when I post. From there I'm going to adjust myself. I don't want to be an angry person but GODDAMN some of you people out there excel at pissing me off. I am going to leave this open for comment, but only in the interest of my own entertainment. If it entertains you also, great, but know that this is my form of "cutting" as MPH puts it, and I don't really care to hear how much you disagree. I don't really give a fuck, honestly.

The links on the right are some links that I read when I want to smile. These are good people and you should read their blogs. I know that some of you will come when you see hits on your blogs from this site, so the above "I don't give a fuck" comments don't apply to you. You're more than welcome to tell me whatever you think. Everyone else can bite me.

Today I'm pissed.