Monday, May 31, 2004
echoes from the past
Okay, I'll give ya that I'm up a bit later than I have been the past few days. And yes, well. . . duh. . . like I'm sober. Tomorrow in the interest of health and weight loss The Wife and I are going on the wagon for about three weeks. The dangling carrot is a trip to New Orleans later this month. That might not be a big enough carrot. So to help minimize the potential for temptation tomorrow, I'm doing my damnedest to finish off the booze tonight. Half a bottle of vodka and a few beers to go. . . Anyway, here are a coupla disjointed holiday thoughts:
__________
"vacatium never endum, it only changem locatium"
__________
It's Memorial Day. The official beginning of Summer Vacation.
Raise your 40 high, pause for a reverential moment. . . (good)
tilt your 40 to the ground. . . (repeat after me)
"to the brothez that ain't here"
now, tilt it to your lips. . . (drink)
[Polyester, my brother, my twin. . . I am with you, and you with me.]
|
__________
"vacatium never endum, it only changem locatium"
__________
It's Memorial Day. The official beginning of Summer Vacation.
Raise your 40 high, pause for a reverential moment. . . (good)
tilt your 40 to the ground. . . (repeat after me)
"to the brothez that ain't here"
now, tilt it to your lips. . . (drink)
[Polyester, my brother, my twin. . . I am with you, and you with me.]
|
Saturday, May 29, 2004
thanks
The Good Doctor Noyz will take this opportunity to express his thanks and gratitude for your efforts on behalf of Tooran Pourkhani and I urge you to continue.
I give a big shout out to Cardinal Fang for taking up the cause in his most informative and entertaining 'blog.
I regret that at present I have no miracle to report, and unless circumstances change Ms. Tooran and her family will be deported on June 20.
However, things are starting to happen. In the past few days I have had correspondence with activists and reporters. I have had conversations with attornerys. I have talked to anyone who I think will listen. Our call for help is being heard and people are responding with their support. So thank you once again, my dear reader.
Ms. Tooran has spoken with several reporters in the past few days, hopefully her case will begin to get some media buzz.
From these discussions and correspondence I have learned that Ms. Tooran's next step in the legal wranglings is to file an appeal with the 5th Circuit Court of Appeals.
I did some research and found several other cases regarding deportation that the 5th Circuit Court considered. Any attorneys out there wanna help me wade though it all and see if anything's relevant to Ms. Tooran's case? Please.
If Ms. Tooran chooses to file the appeal it will definitely take some bank.
So, dear reader, please keep checking back for information about the possible Save Tooran from The Gallows Bake Sale, or the Stop the Bastards Bikini Car Wash.
Stick it to The Man!
|
I give a big shout out to Cardinal Fang for taking up the cause in his most informative and entertaining 'blog.
I regret that at present I have no miracle to report, and unless circumstances change Ms. Tooran and her family will be deported on June 20.
However, things are starting to happen. In the past few days I have had correspondence with activists and reporters. I have had conversations with attornerys. I have talked to anyone who I think will listen. Our call for help is being heard and people are responding with their support. So thank you once again, my dear reader.
Ms. Tooran has spoken with several reporters in the past few days, hopefully her case will begin to get some media buzz.
From these discussions and correspondence I have learned that Ms. Tooran's next step in the legal wranglings is to file an appeal with the 5th Circuit Court of Appeals.
I did some research and found several other cases regarding deportation that the 5th Circuit Court considered. Any attorneys out there wanna help me wade though it all and see if anything's relevant to Ms. Tooran's case? Please.
If Ms. Tooran chooses to file the appeal it will definitely take some bank.
So, dear reader, please keep checking back for information about the possible Save Tooran from The Gallows Bake Sale, or the Stop the Bastards Bikini Car Wash.
Stick it to The Man!
|
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
proud to be an american (?)
Amnesty International has just issued their Report 2004 on human rights abuses.
For a brief overview, read this.
The sections on the United States and the American government's actions in Iraq are shameful.
It should be required reading. So read it.
These people, this regime, they represent us. They act in our name. They are us in the eyes of the world.
I'm appalled, I'm disgusted. And the only thing I can do is to make sure that everyone I know gets registered to and then actually does vote in November.
And to keep ranting right here.
|
For a brief overview, read this.
The sections on the United States and the American government's actions in Iraq are shameful.
It should be required reading. So read it.
These people, this regime, they represent us. They act in our name. They are us in the eyes of the world.
I'm appalled, I'm disgusted. And the only thing I can do is to make sure that everyone I know gets registered to and then actually does vote in November.
And to keep ranting right here.
|
Tuesday, May 25, 2004
trying to stop a deportation update
Today, my soon to be deported because she had the misfortune of being born on the other side of the planet and not ninety miles off the coast of Florida teaching assistant and I went public with her plight. I printed multiple copies of the "press release". We faxed a U.S. Senator and a Congressman. We faxed local major media outlets. We e-mailed Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch and the other local media outlets that have elusive fax numbers but fancy websites.
I e-mailed the United Nations High Commission on Refugees. Twice.
I implore you to do the same.
It offends every fiber of my being that a government which claims to represent me and my interests will do this to my coworker. She's making continuing and ongoing good-faith efforts to jump through all their hoops. The bastards keep moving them with a taunt about "well, we just need you to do this" or "if you could only document this".
Fucking bureaucratic asscroft licking flag waving bastards. Like they're Lucy and she's Charlie Brown and the elusive football is the lives of herself and her children. We've all read the Sunday Funnies enough to know how it ends.
She is not currently all that impressed with the American government either.
Although, she has not yet completely lost faith. She still has a basic blind hope because the alternative is too horrid to fathom belief that the sooner rather than later the right bureaucrat with the right rubber stamp will read the right page in her file and make the right decision.
I'm not so optimistic.
Hmm. . . . a thought has just occurred to me, a goddamned "Eureka!" moment! Have I just gained a sliver of insight into what makes a "terrorist"? Perhaps I have. The American government has been dangling carrots and waving sticks in alternating forms in front of the various populations of the Arab and oil-rich world for at least, what. . . the last 50 or 60 years, or longer?
And yesterday I just paid over 2 bucks a gallon to fill up my lil' truck.
So, obviously that strategy is working. . . HAH!
|
I e-mailed the United Nations High Commission on Refugees. Twice.
I implore you to do the same.
It offends every fiber of my being that a government which claims to represent me and my interests will do this to my coworker. She's making continuing and ongoing good-faith efforts to jump through all their hoops. The bastards keep moving them with a taunt about "well, we just need you to do this" or "if you could only document this".
Fucking bureaucratic asscroft licking flag waving bastards. Like they're Lucy and she's Charlie Brown and the elusive football is the lives of herself and her children. We've all read the Sunday Funnies enough to know how it ends.
She is not currently all that impressed with the American government either.
Although, she has not yet completely lost faith. She still has a basic blind hope because the alternative is too horrid to fathom belief that the sooner rather than later the right bureaucrat with the right rubber stamp will read the right page in her file and make the right decision.
I'm not so optimistic.
Hmm. . . . a thought has just occurred to me, a goddamned "Eureka!" moment! Have I just gained a sliver of insight into what makes a "terrorist"? Perhaps I have. The American government has been dangling carrots and waving sticks in alternating forms in front of the various populations of the Arab and oil-rich world for at least, what. . . the last 50 or 60 years, or longer?
And yesterday I just paid over 2 bucks a gallon to fill up my lil' truck.
So, obviously that strategy is working. . . HAH!
|
Monday, May 24, 2004
an unusual and most urgent request
Over the weekend, my Iranian co-worker read my recent rant about her plight. This morning, she had a request. . .
"Will you please, write something for me?"
Basically, she wanted me to write what amounts to a brief press release that she can use to generate support to help her to stay in this country and to "save our lives" as she said with a very nervous smile.
No pressure.
She really liked all the "America: blah blah blah" rhetoric and requested a big heavy dose.
I told her, "sure, no problem. Anything I can do to help. I'll have it for you in the morning."
She said, "No. . . now."
Um, yeah. . . sure. . . no pressure.
So after spending the morning hiding at my desk pretending I am working on student progress reports and other important end of the school year paperwork I clicked "print" and handed her this:
_______________
My name is Tooran Pourkhani.
I am a single mother with two teenage children with significant mental and developmental disabilities. I am from Iran.
As a single mother, I successfully ran a small business to support myself and my children in a land where the United States State Department reports the laws “discriminate against women” and “social and legal constraints limited their professional opportunities.” (Country Reports on Human Rights Practices - Iran, 2003)
I spent nine days being beaten and tortured in prison following a customer’s allegations that I made disparaging remarks about the mullahs that govern Iran.
Fearing for my life and for the life of my children, I left Iran. The three of us made our way here, to the United States of America.
We came to America because America is a global symbol for freedom and for opportunity. In America, with purity of spirit and strength of effort you can make a better life for yourself and your family. That is the American Dream.
I work as a teaching assistant in a public school that serves the needs of students with significant physical and mental disabilities. I pay my taxes. I made a new home for my family. Because “it takes a village to raise a child,” I am part of and have the support of a community. Although it is a struggle, I am making a better life for my children and myself.
I am neither a terrorist nor a criminal. I am a hard-working single mom. I am living the American Dream.
Because I share a culture with a group of fanatics who have grossly distorted my religion to violence, the United States government wishes to deny my family that dream.
My application for asylum has been denied. My appeal was rejected without comment. We will be deported in less than 30 days.
President George Bush once commended “the determination and bravery of refugees fleeing tyranny in many parts of the world” while remembering “the terrible circumstances that drive people from their homelands in search of freedom and safety.” He reaffirmed that “America will always stand firm for the non-negotiable demands of human dignity. . .” (Statement by The President, White House Office of the Press Secretary, June 20, 2002)
I only ask that America live up to these expectations.
Patrick Henry proclaimed, “Give me liberty, or give me death.” I have the same request.
For my children with disabilities and for myself, deportation is a death sentence.
I have been taught that the government of America is “by the people and for the people”.
So now, I am appealing to the people of America for help.
I am not asking for a handout or for charity. I only request and desire the same opportunities afforded to every resident of this great nation and my new country: to live, to work, and to enjoy life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
Thank you. I remain eternally grateful for any and all assistance and efforts on my behalf.
_______________
I handed it to her. She read it. She loved it.
Wow. I've never wanted a beer and a cigarette at work quite this badly before. Or to just curl up in a fetal position under my desk
I hope it helps, although I'm not optimistic. Thanks in part to some assistance from Cardinal Fang I've done a bit of research on the plight of immigrants from the Arab world in post 9/11 America.
It ain't pretty. In fact, it's quite repulsive and most definitely not very "American".
If nothing else, I hope my "press release" at least alerts a few people to the shenanigans of the current regime.
So my dear reader, please copy, paste, and print! Alert the media! Call your elected representatives!
|
"Will you please, write something for me?"
Basically, she wanted me to write what amounts to a brief press release that she can use to generate support to help her to stay in this country and to "save our lives" as she said with a very nervous smile.
No pressure.
She really liked all the "America: blah blah blah" rhetoric and requested a big heavy dose.
I told her, "sure, no problem. Anything I can do to help. I'll have it for you in the morning."
She said, "No. . . now."
Um, yeah. . . sure. . . no pressure.
So after spending the morning hiding at my desk pretending I am working on student progress reports and other important end of the school year paperwork I clicked "print" and handed her this:
_______________
My name is Tooran Pourkhani.
I am a single mother with two teenage children with significant mental and developmental disabilities. I am from Iran.
As a single mother, I successfully ran a small business to support myself and my children in a land where the United States State Department reports the laws “discriminate against women” and “social and legal constraints limited their professional opportunities.” (Country Reports on Human Rights Practices - Iran, 2003)
I spent nine days being beaten and tortured in prison following a customer’s allegations that I made disparaging remarks about the mullahs that govern Iran.
Fearing for my life and for the life of my children, I left Iran. The three of us made our way here, to the United States of America.
We came to America because America is a global symbol for freedom and for opportunity. In America, with purity of spirit and strength of effort you can make a better life for yourself and your family. That is the American Dream.
I work as a teaching assistant in a public school that serves the needs of students with significant physical and mental disabilities. I pay my taxes. I made a new home for my family. Because “it takes a village to raise a child,” I am part of and have the support of a community. Although it is a struggle, I am making a better life for my children and myself.
I am neither a terrorist nor a criminal. I am a hard-working single mom. I am living the American Dream.
Because I share a culture with a group of fanatics who have grossly distorted my religion to violence, the United States government wishes to deny my family that dream.
My application for asylum has been denied. My appeal was rejected without comment. We will be deported in less than 30 days.
President George Bush once commended “the determination and bravery of refugees fleeing tyranny in many parts of the world” while remembering “the terrible circumstances that drive people from their homelands in search of freedom and safety.” He reaffirmed that “America will always stand firm for the non-negotiable demands of human dignity. . .” (Statement by The President, White House Office of the Press Secretary, June 20, 2002)
I only ask that America live up to these expectations.
Patrick Henry proclaimed, “Give me liberty, or give me death.” I have the same request.
For my children with disabilities and for myself, deportation is a death sentence.
I have been taught that the government of America is “by the people and for the people”.
So now, I am appealing to the people of America for help.
I am not asking for a handout or for charity. I only request and desire the same opportunities afforded to every resident of this great nation and my new country: to live, to work, and to enjoy life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
Thank you. I remain eternally grateful for any and all assistance and efforts on my behalf.
_______________
I handed it to her. She read it. She loved it.
Wow. I've never wanted a beer and a cigarette at work quite this badly before. Or to just curl up in a fetal position under my desk
I hope it helps, although I'm not optimistic. Thanks in part to some assistance from Cardinal Fang I've done a bit of research on the plight of immigrants from the Arab world in post 9/11 America.
It ain't pretty. In fact, it's quite repulsive and most definitely not very "American".
If nothing else, I hope my "press release" at least alerts a few people to the shenanigans of the current regime.
So my dear reader, please copy, paste, and print! Alert the media! Call your elected representatives!
|
back from the suburban sticks
Okay, so like, I take a couple days to spend some time with The Boy, The Wife, and Her Family half a state away and I almost miss the Presidential Cycling Story of the Year.
And, as Cardinal Biggles reports, Andy Kaufman is back from the dead!
And I believe They put a man on the moon.
Damn! I knew I would miss big fun if I unplugged myself for a day or so.
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And, as Cardinal Biggles reports, Andy Kaufman is back from the dead!
And I believe They put a man on the moon.
Damn! I knew I would miss big fun if I unplugged myself for a day or so.
|
Friday, May 21, 2004
finally, a political group worthy of our support
Thursday, May 20, 2004
i am honored. . .
. . . to have recently discovered that The Good Doctor Noyz has added another link in the ol' blogchain.
Cardinal Biggles! Welcome!
For those about to rock. . . we salute you!
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Cardinal Biggles! Welcome!
For those about to rock. . . we salute you!
|
and monkeys might fly out of my butt
angry american, part one
Okay, maybe it's just 'cuz I more than a little tired.
Maybe it's because it's 7:30 on a Thursday and I'm having "Friends" withdrawal.
(Rerun? Not unless he's with Raj and D'wayne. . . Hey hey hey!)
Maybe it's because for the first time in many, many months I am alone in my home. The Wife and The Boy are hundreds of miles away, on a weekend trek to take The Boy to see his still relatively new Grandparents.
(okay, that's not it at all. . . I'm honestly enjoying the solitude.)
Maybe it's because I'm halfway to drunk and accelerating.
(more likely)
Whatever the reason. . .
The Good Doctor Noyz is pissed off.
Pissed off at every level of government: local, state, federal.
Fuck them all. The spineless self-serving camera-primping egotistical self-righteous bastards.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not some anti-American-commie-loving-pinko-heathen-liberal-hippie-tree-hugging-dope-smoking-long-haired-maggot-infested-artistic-FM-radio-type.
Well. . . okay, I used to be.
Like the rest of us, I went through that wacky collegiate young adult experimental finding myself phase.
But, as you age and grow in experience and wisdom, you ultimately look back to the value system in which you were raised.
My parents taught me that America is the Land of Freedom; the Land where anybody can grow up to be President or an Astronaut.
And to take off my hat when I enter a building.
America is the Land of Opportunity, where with a purity of spirit and strength of effort anyone can be anything their heart wishes them to be.
One of my most vivid memories of childhood is sitting stuck in constuction traffic heading south on I-35 heading into Kansas City in the backseat of some boat of a 1970's Chrysler sedan. We were in the midst of the obligatory cross country family summer vacation. My dad's got the radio on. He tells me to listen and to pay attention to the radio. He tells me history is being made. . . I vividly remember listening to Nixon's resignation speech live on the radio.
Although the "President of the Greatest Nation in the Modern World" was bagging it and hitting the street in the midst of corruption, scandal, and the greatest crisis our nation had known since the Civil War; did my father lose faith in America? Did he seemed concerned that anarchy and chaos might break out at any moment?
No. He did not. He just wanted to get out of the damn traffic jam and hurry to Kansas City so that we could go swimming in the motel pool and he could chill with a coupla cold ones.
And the value of believing in America was further instilled.
So, now I'm a few months shy of thirty years down the road from that day and I find myself losing faith; losing faith in the Institutions I was taught to believe in.
Why?
Several reasons.
My thoughts about the way the current regime is handling things are to some extent already ranted about and really not the subject of this one. So, let's get to the first reason that I'm really fucking just pissed off. . .
One of my teaching assistants is the single mother of two teenage children with significant disabilities. Her self-less dedication and devotion to her children is beyond reproach. Her life literally revolves around making a better world for those kids.
Her sense of selflessness extends well beyond her family to serving the needs of those around her. Two or three days a week she brings me lunch. Not because I don't have a lunch of my own (and wow! can she ever freaking cook! it's not food, it's not a meal, it's fucking art!), it's just that she wants to help and take care of everybody.
She is the hardest working person I have ever met. She is tireless.
Or so she was.
Now she is tired, exhausted from the fight, and damn near beyond all appeals to the point where nothing in this world can save her.
In thirty days she, along with her two teenage children with significant disabilities, will be deported.
She will be deported to a land where, as she has shown me in front page photos from newspapers from her homeland, she will swing from the gallows.
Her children will either be killed outright or chained in "asylums".
Why?
Because she's from Iran.
Because she's from Iran, the government of the land of the free and the home of the brave is going to send her back. That's it. Period.
She applied for asylum and for a visa. Denied. She filed and lost her appeal. The American government did not even consider her case. They just said "no".
"the home of the brave"?
Yeah, right. . . the American government is apparently fucking afraid of a middle-aged single mom because her native language vastly differs from our own and her god has a different name.
Is she a criminal? No. Is she a terrorist? Most definitely not, and anybody that so much as suggests the possibility to me will receive a swift kick in the groin.
She's just a single mom. Five years ago she packed up her two children and fled Iran after spending nine or so days being beaten and tortured in an Iranian prison because someone overheard her dissing the mullahs.
She's told stories about being there, in Iran, during the big war against the Bush's first friend, then enemy, now prisoner, that quite frankly, freak the shit out of me that she made it through it all as a single mother with her two children with significant disabilities. . . stories about watching the missles fly overhead, wondering "who's names are on that bomb?". . . stories about her relatives being tortured and murdered by a fanatical regime.
She grabbed her children and they made their way here, to the "land of opportunity". She got a decent tax-paying job and a half-way decent apartment; and although it is a constant effort, she is making a better life for herself and her children.
She is living the dream that is America.
But, because of the "War on Terror", apparently people from certain parts of the world are "bad", and another fanatical regime will not allow her the opportunity to follow that dream.
If she were from Cuba they would throw her a fucking parade. The blatant abhorrent hypocrisy makes me wanna spew.
Crazy? Yep. Fucked up? Yes. But not without precedent.
So fuck 'em. Fuck the god-damned paranoid government bastards that want to send her back. Fuck them all.
And although I've got more to rant about this issue and several others, my cup runneth empty, and I'm tired of staring at this damned screen.
So, my dear reader, more to come. . .
|
Maybe it's because it's 7:30 on a Thursday and I'm having "Friends" withdrawal.
(Rerun? Not unless he's with Raj and D'wayne. . . Hey hey hey!)
Maybe it's because for the first time in many, many months I am alone in my home. The Wife and The Boy are hundreds of miles away, on a weekend trek to take The Boy to see his still relatively new Grandparents.
(okay, that's not it at all. . . I'm honestly enjoying the solitude.)
Maybe it's because I'm halfway to drunk and accelerating.
(more likely)
Whatever the reason. . .
The Good Doctor Noyz is pissed off.
Pissed off at every level of government: local, state, federal.
Fuck them all. The spineless self-serving camera-primping egotistical self-righteous bastards.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not some anti-American-commie-loving-pinko-heathen-liberal-hippie-tree-hugging-dope-smoking-long-haired-maggot-infested-artistic-FM-radio-type.
Well. . . okay, I used to be.
Like the rest of us, I went through that wacky collegiate young adult experimental finding myself phase.
But, as you age and grow in experience and wisdom, you ultimately look back to the value system in which you were raised.
My parents taught me that America is the Land of Freedom; the Land where anybody can grow up to be President or an Astronaut.
And to take off my hat when I enter a building.
America is the Land of Opportunity, where with a purity of spirit and strength of effort anyone can be anything their heart wishes them to be.
One of my most vivid memories of childhood is sitting stuck in constuction traffic heading south on I-35 heading into Kansas City in the backseat of some boat of a 1970's Chrysler sedan. We were in the midst of the obligatory cross country family summer vacation. My dad's got the radio on. He tells me to listen and to pay attention to the radio. He tells me history is being made. . . I vividly remember listening to Nixon's resignation speech live on the radio.
Although the "President of the Greatest Nation in the Modern World" was bagging it and hitting the street in the midst of corruption, scandal, and the greatest crisis our nation had known since the Civil War; did my father lose faith in America? Did he seemed concerned that anarchy and chaos might break out at any moment?
No. He did not. He just wanted to get out of the damn traffic jam and hurry to Kansas City so that we could go swimming in the motel pool and he could chill with a coupla cold ones.
And the value of believing in America was further instilled.
So, now I'm a few months shy of thirty years down the road from that day and I find myself losing faith; losing faith in the Institutions I was taught to believe in.
Why?
Several reasons.
My thoughts about the way the current regime is handling things are to some extent already ranted about and really not the subject of this one. So, let's get to the first reason that I'm really fucking just pissed off. . .
One of my teaching assistants is the single mother of two teenage children with significant disabilities. Her self-less dedication and devotion to her children is beyond reproach. Her life literally revolves around making a better world for those kids.
Her sense of selflessness extends well beyond her family to serving the needs of those around her. Two or three days a week she brings me lunch. Not because I don't have a lunch of my own (and wow! can she ever freaking cook! it's not food, it's not a meal, it's fucking art!), it's just that she wants to help and take care of everybody.
She is the hardest working person I have ever met. She is tireless.
Or so she was.
Now she is tired, exhausted from the fight, and damn near beyond all appeals to the point where nothing in this world can save her.
In thirty days she, along with her two teenage children with significant disabilities, will be deported.
She will be deported to a land where, as she has shown me in front page photos from newspapers from her homeland, she will swing from the gallows.
Her children will either be killed outright or chained in "asylums".
Why?
Because she's from Iran.
Because she's from Iran, the government of the land of the free and the home of the brave is going to send her back. That's it. Period.
She applied for asylum and for a visa. Denied. She filed and lost her appeal. The American government did not even consider her case. They just said "no".
"the home of the brave"?
Yeah, right. . . the American government is apparently fucking afraid of a middle-aged single mom because her native language vastly differs from our own and her god has a different name.
Is she a criminal? No. Is she a terrorist? Most definitely not, and anybody that so much as suggests the possibility to me will receive a swift kick in the groin.
She's just a single mom. Five years ago she packed up her two children and fled Iran after spending nine or so days being beaten and tortured in an Iranian prison because someone overheard her dissing the mullahs.
She's told stories about being there, in Iran, during the big war against the Bush's first friend, then enemy, now prisoner, that quite frankly, freak the shit out of me that she made it through it all as a single mother with her two children with significant disabilities. . . stories about watching the missles fly overhead, wondering "who's names are on that bomb?". . . stories about her relatives being tortured and murdered by a fanatical regime.
She grabbed her children and they made their way here, to the "land of opportunity". She got a decent tax-paying job and a half-way decent apartment; and although it is a constant effort, she is making a better life for herself and her children.
She is living the dream that is America.
But, because of the "War on Terror", apparently people from certain parts of the world are "bad", and another fanatical regime will not allow her the opportunity to follow that dream.
If she were from Cuba they would throw her a fucking parade. The blatant abhorrent hypocrisy makes me wanna spew.
Crazy? Yep. Fucked up? Yes. But not without precedent.
So fuck 'em. Fuck the god-damned paranoid government bastards that want to send her back. Fuck them all.
And although I've got more to rant about this issue and several others, my cup runneth empty, and I'm tired of staring at this damned screen.
So, my dear reader, more to come. . .
|
Saturday, May 15, 2004
life imitates the simpsons
Actor Sylvester Stallone has sued Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Inc. and a production company, claiming they stymied his efforts to make a sequel and Broadway musical based on the "Rocky" film franchise.
Rocky? A Broadway musical?
Will Nathan Lane be cast as Clubber Lang or Thunderlips?
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Rocky? A Broadway musical?
Will Nathan Lane be cast as Clubber Lang or Thunderlips?
|
Thursday, May 13, 2004
oooh, that's just nasty
So Rummy made a surprise trip to Iraq. . .
Picture, if you will, ol' Rummy sitting in his plush leather chair in his fancy Pentagon office, as aroused and masturbating as best as is possible for an old evil bastard, with his grey flannel pinstripe designer suit pants and his skid-marked Fruit of the Loom briefs around his knees; wide-eyed, lustily gawking at the several hundred unreleased weird pyscho-sexual pseudo homo-erotic sado-masochistic images of the Iraqi prisoner abuse mess. . .
I'll bet he decided the photo inpspired fantasy wasn't enough. . . He needed the real thing, baby.
So, he jumped a plane and jetted off to Baghdad.
Ooooh, that's way to creepy. . . No! No! NO!
Join me dear reader, in clicking here to flush the previously described Donald Rumsfeld imagery from our minds.
Much better.
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Picture, if you will, ol' Rummy sitting in his plush leather chair in his fancy Pentagon office, as aroused and masturbating as best as is possible for an old evil bastard, with his grey flannel pinstripe designer suit pants and his skid-marked Fruit of the Loom briefs around his knees; wide-eyed, lustily gawking at the several hundred unreleased weird pyscho-sexual pseudo homo-erotic sado-masochistic images of the Iraqi prisoner abuse mess. . .
I'll bet he decided the photo inpspired fantasy wasn't enough. . . He needed the real thing, baby.
So, he jumped a plane and jetted off to Baghdad.
Ooooh, that's way to creepy. . . No! No! NO!
Join me dear reader, in clicking here to flush the previously described Donald Rumsfeld imagery from our minds.
Much better.
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Tuesday, May 11, 2004
said the kettle to the pot
Okay, listen. . .
I'm as freaked out and outraged as the next guy that some sorry excuse for sons of motherless goat fucking bastards proudly make a video of themselves cutting off the head of some poor schlub who most unluckily found himself at the proverbial "wrong place, wrong time".
I hope they're found, captured, and repeatedly sodomized with rusty railroad spikes until they get tetanus and die horrid slow painful deaths.
And I'm generally considered by most to be a peace and beer loving hippie.
And it's not that I'm some freakin' gung-ho "America! love it or leave it! I wish I could suck Rush Limbaugh's dick cause he kicks liberal ass!" type.
I think the same punishment should be applied to those responsible for the abuse of the Iraqi prisoners and starting this whole fucking mess in the first place. Not the grunts, but the ones really responsible for the whole fuckin' mess: dubya, Rumsfeld, Wolfowicz, Saddam, etc.
And, yes, I'm still generally considered to be a pacifist tree hugging hippie.
This afternoon, dubya issued a statement about the incident through his official spokespuppet:
" 'Our thoughts and prayers are with his family,' White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan said. 'It shows the true nature of the enemies of freedom. They have no regard for the lives of innocent men, women and children.' "
". . . true nature of the enemies of freedom." ?!? ". . . no regard for the lives of innocent men, woman and children" !?!?
What the fuck?
And like Superman, the current American regime still proudly supports truth, justice, and the American way!
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I'm as freaked out and outraged as the next guy that some sorry excuse for sons of motherless goat fucking bastards proudly make a video of themselves cutting off the head of some poor schlub who most unluckily found himself at the proverbial "wrong place, wrong time".
I hope they're found, captured, and repeatedly sodomized with rusty railroad spikes until they get tetanus and die horrid slow painful deaths.
And I'm generally considered by most to be a peace and beer loving hippie.
And it's not that I'm some freakin' gung-ho "America! love it or leave it! I wish I could suck Rush Limbaugh's dick cause he kicks liberal ass!" type.
I think the same punishment should be applied to those responsible for the abuse of the Iraqi prisoners and starting this whole fucking mess in the first place. Not the grunts, but the ones really responsible for the whole fuckin' mess: dubya, Rumsfeld, Wolfowicz, Saddam, etc.
And, yes, I'm still generally considered to be a pacifist tree hugging hippie.
This afternoon, dubya issued a statement about the incident through his official spokespuppet:
" 'Our thoughts and prayers are with his family,' White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan said. 'It shows the true nature of the enemies of freedom. They have no regard for the lives of innocent men, women and children.' "
". . . true nature of the enemies of freedom." ?!? ". . . no regard for the lives of innocent men, woman and children" !?!?
What the fuck?
And like Superman, the current American regime still proudly supports truth, justice, and the American way!
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Monday, May 10, 2004
british sex. . . another oxymoron?
(with proper deference and respect to the homeland of Cardinal Fang)
Oral sex lessons to cut rates of teenage pregnancy
Lessons! Oh, the outrage!
British students should have to learn the same way most American kids do:
drunk on a nauseating cocktail of booze you stole from your parents liquor cabinet in an empty peanut butter jar mixed with a half-full 7-11 Big Gulp, fumbling around with buttons and hooks in the cramped semi-darkness of the backseat of your small piece of crap car, praying she doesn't stop or say "stop", not believing it's actually happening to you, literally rocking out with your cock out to AC/DC while parked in the secluded back alley of an unfinished suburban subdivision.
Yeah, that's the way to go. . .
. . . or so I may have heard from a panel of experts or something.
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Oral sex lessons to cut rates of teenage pregnancy
Lessons! Oh, the outrage!
British students should have to learn the same way most American kids do:
drunk on a nauseating cocktail of booze you stole from your parents liquor cabinet in an empty peanut butter jar mixed with a half-full 7-11 Big Gulp, fumbling around with buttons and hooks in the cramped semi-darkness of the backseat of your small piece of crap car, praying she doesn't stop or say "stop", not believing it's actually happening to you, literally rocking out with your cock out to AC/DC while parked in the secluded back alley of an unfinished suburban subdivision.
Yeah, that's the way to go. . .
. . . or so I may have heard from a panel of experts or something.
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it's about damn time
Today I read that the Bush administration is facing complaints from the conservative intelligentsia that it has lost its ability to produce fresh policies.
"conservative intelligentsia"??? Hmm. . . an oxymoron?
It's not a huge show of support for your administration when a cabinet member you appointed quits and then refers to you as "a blind man in a room full of deaf people".
I'm somewhat heartened by the news that even the folks in dubya's idealogical camp are beginning to have their doubts.
Divide and conquer. . .
Dubya's prob'ly wishin' there were more good, honest, hard-working, right-thinking, Christian folk. . . like her.
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"conservative intelligentsia"??? Hmm. . . an oxymoron?
It's not a huge show of support for your administration when a cabinet member you appointed quits and then refers to you as "a blind man in a room full of deaf people".
I'm somewhat heartened by the news that even the folks in dubya's idealogical camp are beginning to have their doubts.
Divide and conquer. . .
Dubya's prob'ly wishin' there were more good, honest, hard-working, right-thinking, Christian folk. . . like her.
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Friday, May 07, 2004
i read the news today, oh boy!
So, it's Friday night. . . The Wife and I just returned from the first BABY BAR NIGHT with The Boy.
While The Wife is putting his damn jammies with yodas and shit on The Boy because nobody sleeps naked in this house, I thought I'd do a quick check of the news.
I read this.
And then I read this.
"I've said today that there are a lot more photographs and videos that exist. . ." - Rummy
It gets worse!
Wow!
And I thought the fucking redneck hick-ass country music star was only speaking metaphorically when he sang about putting things in people's asses.
I didn't realize he was actually stating U.S. policy.
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While The Wife is putting his damn jammies with yodas and shit on The Boy because nobody sleeps naked in this house, I thought I'd do a quick check of the news.
I read this.
And then I read this.
"I've said today that there are a lot more photographs and videos that exist. . ." - Rummy
It gets worse!
Wow!
And I thought the fucking redneck hick-ass country music star was only speaking metaphorically when he sang about putting things in people's asses.
I didn't realize he was actually stating U.S. policy.
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Thursday, May 06, 2004
ignorance
Last weekend, The Wife and I packed up The Boy and headed on down to the Big Semi-Annual Gigantic Street Party and Arts and Crafts Festival. You know, the type of deal where they block off about ten straight blocks of a city street and pack it with tents selling hippie jewelry, strangely cool things made out of metal, and stuff for craft store junkies, along with a smattering of "as seen on TV". . .
and fried meat on a stick. . .
and significantly overpriced cans of beer. . .
all set to the soundtrack of your favorite local old time rock-n-roll hip-hop country tejano punk tribute bands.
(mmmm. . . fried meat on a stick)
We did this in part because The Boy has spent most of his life under the evil thumb of Ms von Munchausen and so, well damnit, he need's more real-life experiences doing real-life things. . .
Like watching his new dad pound overpriced cans of beer in the sun-drenched heat of a crowded street on a Sunday afternoon.
[Which is exactly what I would have been doing with The Wife anyway had The Boy not entered our lives.]
[It's what we did that same weekend last year. I remember because that was when I got in a big argument over who was the better Beatle, John or Paul, and I ended up severely spraining my ankle and couldn't walk for about two weeks.]
[If you say "Paul", I swear I will kick your damn ass with my good ankle.]
So we're down there needling our way through the sweaty slightly drunken masses, using The Boy in his wheelchair as part weapon, part bulldozer to clear a path. Something shiny caught our eye from one of the vendor's tents, so we stopped to check it out.
While we were standing there, admiring the overpriced sparkly bits, a couple who appeared somewhere around the mid to high end of their fifties, waddled up to do the same thing.
They looked down and saw The Boy in his wheelchair. . .
WOMAN: Oh, that's so sad.
MAN: Yep. But it's not uncommon. Did you know that the CDC reports that because of the high levels of mercury in immunizations 1 out of every 3 children are born mentally retarded?
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and fried meat on a stick. . .
and significantly overpriced cans of beer. . .
all set to the soundtrack of your favorite local old time rock-n-roll hip-hop country tejano punk tribute bands.
(mmmm. . . fried meat on a stick)
We did this in part because The Boy has spent most of his life under the evil thumb of Ms von Munchausen and so, well damnit, he need's more real-life experiences doing real-life things. . .
Like watching his new dad pound overpriced cans of beer in the sun-drenched heat of a crowded street on a Sunday afternoon.
[Which is exactly what I would have been doing with The Wife anyway had The Boy not entered our lives.]
[It's what we did that same weekend last year. I remember because that was when I got in a big argument over who was the better Beatle, John or Paul, and I ended up severely spraining my ankle and couldn't walk for about two weeks.]
[If you say "Paul", I swear I will kick your damn ass with my good ankle.]
So we're down there needling our way through the sweaty slightly drunken masses, using The Boy in his wheelchair as part weapon, part bulldozer to clear a path. Something shiny caught our eye from one of the vendor's tents, so we stopped to check it out.
While we were standing there, admiring the overpriced sparkly bits, a couple who appeared somewhere around the mid to high end of their fifties, waddled up to do the same thing.
They looked down and saw The Boy in his wheelchair. . .
WOMAN: Oh, that's so sad.
MAN: Yep. But it's not uncommon. Did you know that the CDC reports that because of the high levels of mercury in immunizations 1 out of every 3 children are born mentally retarded?
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