Tuesday, April 29, 2008


Chris Crocker needs to make a “Leave Miley Alone” video because it needs to be said and heard! I think it is a damn shame that she had the photo shoot, and then after an “outcry” she is forced to apologize for some pictures that are not even “racy”. Everyone’s blaming her parents, but for what? For getting into an industry and making, literally, a BILLION dollars, and then having her pose with her back exposed? That’s nothing, really. Is this picture of a makeup-less Miley any worse than the picture on her MySpace, one hand on hip, one hand over head, ass sticking out, or the glammed up Hanna Montana who is like a Jeanbenet Ramsey all grown up, well at least by a few years?

NO! If you want to protest something don’t harp on Miley – how about you recognize and accept the fact that our popular culture – including Disney – is built on a firm FOUNDATION of caking makeup on young girls, sluttin’ ‘em up a little, and then sending them into the hopes of a long career of gyrating and singing with the aid of computer technology. But since she is fifteen people take notice? Is this simply because fifty year old men aren’t allowed to fantasize about her for three more years? Leave Miley alone, I say!

Meanwhile the news-media, who, as so eloquently put in I Am Legend, would continue to try to sell papers while the world turns into cannibals, lusts for the moment she screws up. At fifteen I think she’s doing okay, ‘cause at fifteen I can tell you a certain young man (not me of course) was having strait up gay sex and smoking pot AT SCHOOL. The girl took a picture! They are just desperate for her to shave her head, have a coke overdose, or do a sex video. Everyone who is acting like they are all concerned about her legions of fans for whom she is a “role model” needs to parent their kids! Get your daughters Guardasil, show them the commercial where the girl gets drunk and the next day has a dirty video being passed around on cell phones at school, PARENT your own little brats and leave Miley Cyrus ALONE!!!!

The Angry Trash Man

In the building where I work there is a cafeteria. It is insanely overpriced, not that good, and usually crowded. Nonetheless I eat lunch there pretty much every day I'm in the office.

Well, ask anyone who works here about the Angry Trash Man and they will know exactly who you are talking about. The trash cans are by the conveyer belt for the tray-return, and around 1:00 every day the young, stocky, Angry Trash Man emerges from out of no where to empty the three side-by-side bins.

He does this in a rage, slamming the doors to the bins open and closed, throwing the overfilled bags to the ground, huffing and puffing, and mumbling under his breath…not even so much under his breath as over top of it. It is clear that he is pissed and he is always like this.

It goes beyond the fact of having an unappreciated and low wage employment. People are both amused and kind of scared of him, and definitely try to stay out of his way in case he really snaps. Something happened to that man -- or a series of things happened to him -- in his life that has made him this way.

I wonder what it was? Don't we all have crazy shit that happened to us somewhere along the way that screwed us up on some level? Aren't we all only one traumatic experience away from being the Angry Trash Man ourselves? Don't we all feel like slamming our work around and cussing out people bringing us more of it? And don't we have moments of believing we have only the two options of either collapsing under the pressures of life or venting them out somehow?

Maybe we all don't, in fact. But I just see a little bit of myself in that Angry Trash Man and I steer clear, like I know he'd want me to – like I know I would want me to.

Anyway, I have a lot less sympathy for the guy who cooks the pizza. He's not angry, he's just an asshole. But I digress.

Monday, April 28, 2008

They would do it too, if they were you...

I'm all over this Miley Cyrus apology bullshit, because it makes me laugh. I need to laugh a little.

I am going to come out and say my Big Plans for the future. This is top secret confidential, but...I am moving to Charlotte, North Carolina on September 1, 2008. This is for a multitude of reasons, many of which are familial in nature, but it is not an unhappy decision. It is just the circle coming to a close. (I've been reading too many horoscopes when I get to talking like this.) I still have to clear all this with work, and there may be some resistence because another person just moved and became "deployed", and there are lots of "deployed" staff, but I'm gonna do it anyway. Maybe I'm gassing myself up but if they say no, and I say "I resign", I think they'll change their tune. My job, sadly, is the one thing that I'm actually really good at. And I'll still have a residence of sorts in NY if I play my cards right.

Anyway, it was my first day back at work after a five day weekend, and this morning I got to thinking about all that goes into a relocation. I'm not moving down the block, I'm moving across hundreds of miles and state lines. I am beginning to formulate a plan, and have been since I made this decision a few months back. Still, last night and early this morning I was having something similar to a panic attack.

Funniest text message I sent today, in reply to someone stating that I get "all worked up over nothing": "It's not nothing! You think I don't have feelings because I'm beautiful?!"

As much as I've moved, I should be able to write the Complete Idiot's Gudie on the subject. It's a bit different this time because I've entered my thirties, have a somewhat adult level of posessions, and can't just go unemployed for a few weeks to figure out what I'm doing with myself anymore. The long distance should mean nothing, but it does add a level of intensity.

The abbreviated plan is as follows:

May -- take cats to their foster home, where they will become outdoor cats. Then go to Phoenix for work which should be fun.
June -- lay low, save money, and negotiate lease options with current landlord.
July -- Go to St. Thomas USVI for 8 days, after which suggest they change the name from "US Virgin Islands" to something more fitting.
August -- Go to NC for a few days, work from there, get a car, find a home, and sign a lease. Have Murphy Bed disassembled, start throwing shit either away or into boxes.
September -- Relocate.
November -- Go to Sofia, Bulgaria over Thanksgiving and chill with Vladimir and my Euro peeps.

I'm still unhealthily obsessed with this boy in Greensboro, but no, he's not the reason I'm moving as this decision was made long before I ever knew him.

I've been downloading pink noise to play when I go to bed, because it does do wonders for drowning out the incessent, loud gibberesh coming from the other room. I'm at such a loss for an answer to why I allow these situations to happen to me. I tried to do something nice for someone, and now I'm stuck in a miserable hellish roommate situation (which is also not the reason I'm moving, and I already told her I'm ending the lease and she'll have to find some new place to go at that point, hopefully sooner). As much as I've complained, and had "talks", and been fucking nice as hell about her and her boyfriend, and put up with their disrespectful abuse of me (what it boils down to), it's like it's in one ear and out the other. "Okay, yes, I understand," and then nothing changes, on top of really clinical DSMV style mood swings and bitchiness. Resentment breeds and brews. So at this point, what do you do? I wish I could explain why it's not as simple as "just throw them out!" which is everyone's advice, but neither you nor I have the time.

It's rainy and nasty out today and I'm just sitting here in front of my computer shoving my face full of potato chips and Reese's cups. My committment to physical fitness and holistic health and well-being resumes tomorrow.

For my belated birthday celebration on Saturday night, we went to Lips and I kissed a drag queen, in fact, on the lips. That place was a lot of fun. Then I drank like a fish and bounced around every bar in town, including the Cubby Hole where the lesbians loved my Fendi pants and encouraged me to become one of them, which I leave open as an option. "I'm lesbian identified," I told one. Hell, if there can be a "pregnant man", I can be a goddamned lesbian!

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Filthy Pig

Ms. Piggy changes her image:

Incidentally, when I was in 7th or 8th grade, I went as Ms. Piggy to my Sunday School's Halloween party. It was kind of a scandal.

Friday, April 25, 2008

All the men come in these places, and the men are all the same...

I really do love Texas, and a little piece of my heart will always be in that state. There are still frontiers there.

While I was there working, I met this guy who wanted to git down on the git down – HAVE SEX! He was a young 24, and just as cute as he could possibly be, sweet as sugar. However I have turned over a new leaf so to speak, and I felt the urge to give him some words of advice.

“I’m gonna tell you something, because you are young, and I can tell you are a nice guy,” I told him. “You have to be careful,” I continued, “hooking up with any of these fools you meet in bars, clubs, online or wherever. HIV is not the only thing out there. Plenty of these guys have things, things that never go away, and some of them don’t even know it. And many of the ones who do know it won’t tell you. It would be a shame for your cute little ass to have to explain something like a virus for the rest of your life. A condom can only do so much.”

He took pause. I figured I probably turned him off, which was fine, but I am here to educate the young and na├»ve. Then he says to me what I would have never expected in a million years. “Okay, since you were nice enough to tell me that, I’m gonna tell you something.

“A few months ago I tested positive for HIV, and I have no idea who I got it from.”

This working from home situation

I could get used to it.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

The Story of My Life

Thinking hard about fools that ain't thinking about me at all.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008


When I got home from Texas, I saw that my roommate's door was wide open, the bathroom door was open, and every light in the house was on. This clearly indicated to me that her boyfriend had been staying the night and leaving after she had left for work, which we had discussed as something that I don't like, but that has continued to happen anyway.

Well of course with that door wide open, Buddy siezed the opportunity to try out a new, soft place to sleep for a while -- her bed.

She was pissed, but of course this is her own fault, or rather, her boyfriend's. I heard them fighting about it (like I hear everything from them, they are so loud).

She asked to borrow my lint roller to remove the cat hair, and when I was getting it, I heard her say to Buddy -- who was chillin in his kitty kondominium, "Don't bow your head now Buddy, you already did what you did!"

So I filled in for Buddy, "Oh he ain't worried about it, he's just wondering why you didn't close your door if you're so pissed off." And I laughed the laugh of the well to do.

She said, "It's not funny, Stroll! I really hate cat hair!"

Oh, honey, it is funny. It's fucking hilarious.

The End of the World as We Know It

People laugh at me when I state my views about the future of the world, but I'm going to state them anyway.

Basically, shit is going down and most of us are unaware. "Civilization" and "society" are thin wrapping papers over a natural state of affairs that is savage, hostile, and dangerous. As has been seen in many countries around the world, when socio-economic collapse happens, people get brutal. It is the hallmark of hubris in this country that no one really believes this cold happen to us.

Fuel prices are the highest they have ever been. Read up on so called "peak oil". Food safety is repeatedly in the news. New bacteria and viruses are constantly emerging and making their way from "rare" to "common". Water is becoming a resource, much like oil, that wars are being fought for. Infrastructures are getting old and further neglected. Dependence on governments – our own and foreign ones – is at an historic high. Dependence on technology is the norm. Populations are growing and space is shrinking. There is a crisis of home forclosures that is causing a rise in the cost to rent. Maybe you have read that there has been food rationing at warehouse stores as of late. This country has not seen "food rationing" since World War II. People shopping are all pissed off about it without thinking about what it means.

When there is a collapse of government, economy, production, and fuel-based infrastructure, the good people of the world will largely become predatory – hunger, cold, fear and panic will turn most of us into animals. Hungry, scared animals that will do what we have to to eat.

The few people who know how to do some simple, old-timey things, are going to be the people that will survive. Those are things like grow food, use guns, build structures, and live 1800's style. I'm admittedly probably one of the first who will go down because I wasn't paying attention when I was popping off rifles with my Grandpa, and wasn't watching my brother skin deer and fish all these years. All the money in the world won't buy you a grain of rice when it's worthless. And you can't eat money, or gold and silver for that matter. It's time to learn some skills.

I know I sound like a crazy person but I needed to get that off my chest. So on that pleasant note, have a great day! I'm back in NY, done with Texas for the time being. More later, was in airports all day now suffering through the lack of peace and quiet due to a shitty roommate situation.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Rambles from a Shambles

My plane reading for the trip here was I Am Legend by Richard Matheson which was really good. The book also includes several short stories after the novella, that are not mentioned on the cover of this version. I haven’t seen the movie starring Will Smith yet, but I imagine it is very different from the book, just from what I know about the movie from previews (for one thing, the movie is set in New York City and the book is set in Los Angeles). There are some parts of the story that require a great deal of suspension of disbelief – for one, the fact that this man figures out the epidemiology behind the germ turning everyone into vampires with a simple microscope, some books, and no real training in the sciences, after everyone is infected, before which no one who is really a scientist bothered to figure out over the years of its spread. But that aside, the story is compelling and the theme of survival of humanity in dystopias is something I love in a novel. The psychological and religious explanations for the disaster that has befallen the earth are masterfully written. The human connections, and the human connection to the infected, are sometimes moving and realistically absurd. The idea of a society beginning after the destruction of civilization, kind of along the lines of Mad Max. Except in this story everyone is now a monster – so the only uninfected human being left alive is actually the monster, and a legend among the new majority.

My hotel here in Arlington is right across from Six Flags. Right now, I would LOVE to go to Six Flags for some escapism via massive roller coasters. It’s been very busy here with these meetings, international visitors, and general ineptitude of hotel staff causing widespread chaos and shitty service. But I have maintained. It’s been a good trip.

It’s a long story but at one point I had fifteen thousand dollars of cash in my possession. Large sums of money, which fall into my hands sometimes in the line of duty, make me nervous. I mean, $15,000 is more money than I have ever seen in person, and I clung to it like it was my internal organs.

The people here for this meeting are people I work closely with via email and phone, but rarely see in person because they are largely from Africa and Europe. It is wild to see not only how they interact, but how the Africans interact with Africans from different countries, and the Europeans interact with Europeans from different countries.

This morning I had to go to church and I am happy to report I did not burst into flames upon entry. After the services, which was your typical white protestant stand and sing and hear a sermon style worship, the black office manager who is here with us commented that it was not what she was used to. Having been to many a black church in the line of duty, I knew exactly what she meant. There was not three hours of stomping and hand clapping, and feeling the spirit. There was just a by-the-book service that closely followed the bulletin and it was done in exactly one hour.

I’m still all tore up over this boy in Greensboro and I don’t know where I stand with him. What happens to me with boys is that they say the way they want it is ABC. So I do ABC and then they change that shit up, and I don’t understand the mixed messages, and I don’t know where people are coming from at all. I am so telling you that it is only a matter of time, shorter by the day, that I am going to take my cats and go live in an abandoned army bunker at Carolina beach, where I can be gross and diseased and sexless and just live off of canned goods. During that time I will write poetry about how much I despise humanity. They are mostly just like the infected in I Am Legend -- they wanna break into your house, rip you to pieces, and drink your blood…and even if you become one of them, they just might decide to eat you anyway.

One of the men from the Congo described to me in vivid detail the practice of the militia members training the young soldiers to cannibalize their enemies, and while I had read about this before, hearing it from someone who is so close to it has my mind kind of messed up. Good lord, whatever is wrong with me, I am thankful I'm not a child soldier fucked up on drugs eating human flesh, or even just a plain ole impoverished hungry person.

More later.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Just words?

I am gonna go ahead and say that Obama is my candidate.

However, I watch shit like this:

and can't help but think it's gonna backfire. I see all these celebrities -- actors, singers, performers, comedians even -- people who make a living presenting a persona. And it's all artsy fartsyish, and as substanceless as Obama is accused of being. This is even worse than the one where his speech is set to music, which makes me cringe. Get his ideas out there.

And in answer the questions, "Just words?" Yes, Barak. Yes indeed, they are just words.

Don't Mess With Texas

As I've said before, I did mess with Texas, and they didn't do shit about it. We love each other, me and Texas. We have an understanding.

Yesterday, the anniversary of my birth, I worked all day, handled any number of crises, and fell out before 11:00.

Here at the hotel yesterday there was this bizarre casting call thing for kids and teens, apparantly some kind of farming for the next Disney or Nickelodean star. I didn't see the next Miley Cyrus or Hilary Duff, but I did see a lot of parents with bigger dreams for their kids (and their wallets) than their little brats will be able to muster. Cute? Some of them. But mostly it was little girls tugging at their skirts and little boys who would have rather been any where else. The teen girls were all tramped up with ridiculously tight, short clothing and Jean Benet Ramsey makeup. The boys were all trying to be too cool for school and I told one of them "break a leg" and he looked at me like I literally meant I wish he would break a leg. It was bizarre and sad and strange.

Meanwhile, there was mention of finding a cultural experience for the African and European visitors, but I think all they want to do is go to Wal Mart. Which is a cultural experience all its own now that I think about it.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

The Pope and I have something in common.

Today is our birthday!

I am in Texas working. On a lunch break right now.

He is in NY I think, being praised and lauded for being a meaningless old man.

It's also K-Rock's mom Babs's birthday today.

Did you know that April 16 is known as The Day of Cosmic Comdedy? Look it up.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

The Car Kicker Strikes

The small but growing faction of livery cab drivers line up under the train tracks at 31st Street and 30th Avenue and run their operation from there. Unbeknownst to them, I am in a constant cold-war style battle with these people. They fuck up traffic, intimidate and harass people, and quote ridiculously high fares for short and easy trips. And perhaps worst of all, they honk their horns constantly.

The other day as I passed by, there was a bunch of them standing outside of their cars in a circle, vehemently arguing about something I couldn’t understand. I’m sure this was something of huge importance such as who gets the next fare or who has the biggest dick. I was on the phone at the time and the person I was talking to asked what all the racket was. I explained it was the livery cab drivers having it out over some bullshit, and that there was no reason from them to be causing such a scene in the middle of the road on a beautiful day. I stared at them with hostile eyes while I waited for the walk signal.

Today as I passed by, the same shit was occurring. I turned to look at the source of the ruckus and that’s when it started – the practice that makes me want to become violent. One of them who was sitting in his car started honking his horn at me. When I realized this I looked at him and he was making the hand signal for “do you need a cab?” and I made the hand signal back known as “the middle finger”. He threw his hands up and shrugged as if to say, “Why are you giving me the bird, I’m just offering you a ride?” I explained that I was just looking both ways before crossing the street, and that I can see there are five cars lined up waiting to give people rides, so I didn’t somehow miss you sitting there and need you to honk your horn at me to alert me to your presence and available services, asshole!

My hatred of the livery cab industry began when I lived in Washington Heights, where they will pull up beside you as you walk along the sidewalk minding your own business, and honk their horns, checking to see if you need a ride despite the obvious fact that you are walking with no desire for assistance in getting where you’re going. This hatred was furthered the time one of those assholes rolled up on me as I crossed the street from Lincoln Center, accelerated and honked his horn, almost hitting me, as he approached the stoplight. I kicked the shit out of the back end of that car – could not control myself from doing so – and the driver got out and I ran like a bat out of hell around the corner, laughing the whole time and for hours afterwards.

Yellow cabs have not been spared my wrath either. One time K-rock and I were cruising down Broadway, crossing the street, when here comes a cab flying towards us, slamming on his breaks to stop before entering the cross walk and killing us both. Kicked his car, yes I did. He pulled up beside us on the road, my heart pumping with anger and adreniline at almost being killed, and he was yelling some bullshit I could not have cared less about. His little Columbia student passenger and her mom also had to get involved, yelling "What's your problem, man?!" My problem was of course that the laws of traffic were being disregarded and I don't want "Pedestrians always have the right of way" on my tombstone!

So anyway, I have my eye on you, livery cab drivers, and cab drivers in general. I’m watching, and waiting, and when the time is right…I’m gonna kick your car. I’m gonna be wearing shoes with bigger heals than usual, hard bottomed work shoes with metal bars through the souls, and I’m gonna kick your damn cars so hard it leaves my size 12 footprint like a Sasquatch fossil. Then I am going to run away laughing and looking for the next victim of the car kicker. You’ve been warned.

Friday, April 11, 2008

You had to be there.

There is constantly a battle over the name "Patsy's" among pizzerias and Italian restuarants, and most recently Patsy in Midtown is suing some pizza joint on Long Island in a long, drawn out battle in which both sides are claiming victory.

This always reminds me of the time when, in fact, my friends and I did confuse Patsy's in midtown with another Patsy's, and had to leave the $40 speghetti place with our own cake after we realized the error.

We still laugh about that time.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

David Archuleta FTW

Despite vehement opposition to this position during a lunch time discussion, I stand behind the belief that the entire American Idol franchise should have just ended right here, and he should have been handed his trophy by Dolly Parton herself. Deal with it!


There is a woman who works here who recieved tons of boxes, and for some reason the are always mistakenly addressed to me. So when the sweet Fed Ex man brings them by, I have to take him down to her, and if she's not there I just sign for her and he drops them off. He happens to be incredibly hot to me and I think maybe a little sweet on me. Of course, every time I see him my hair is flying all over the place, my skin is destroyed, I reek of cigarettes and my outfits are the make-do outfits of a laundry crisis. There is no justice.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Homeless Inspired By Spitzer

In the spirit of the homeless man interested in buying Jamie Lynn Spears a nice gift, this homeless man is inspired by former Governor Spitzer's shenanigans.

[Again, via Lady Bunny]

For Kevondrala

The mirror really does have two faces!! (inside joke)

Tuesday, April 08, 2008


Too much blogging today! But I had to share this. I want one.

I don't believe in astrology,

being an half way intelligent person with a modicum of education, but the symbols for this present time are right. There is mad change going on in my life. There has been a huge weight lifted off my shoulders within the last 20 minutes, and in the last few weeks a huge one put on there as well. My life changes from this point forward. Cryptic, sure. But I feel good right now. I feel okay at least.

Don't do it kids!!!!

Unless you're planning on going all the way with it -- like law school or towards a doctorate -- it's not all it's cracked up to be. Sure you will look at the world in a different way and be, frankly, intellectually superior to everyone around you, but no one really cares that you know about categorical imperitives or the difference between soft and hard determinism. When you're 30, you're gonna wanna be making COINS. Choose wisely.

Pretty In Pink

My new favorite blog is Planet Fabulon (already linked to today) and this is my favorie entry, based soley on the blogger's commentary. You'll laugh.

Ik ben droevig

Here are photos from Auschwitz that show the Nazi staff having recreational time, laughing, and singing, all the while immeasureable suffering is taking place in the death camp. These pictures are fascinating because they suggest that none of them thought they were doing anything wrong, or if they did, they suppressed it enough to go along with the norms of Germany's "genocidal state."

This is a testament to the capacity for normal, otherwise decent human beings to do awful things. Slave traders, Klansmen, serial killers, terrorists: outside the realm of the horrors they commit, many of these people are normal. They hug their wives. They dote on their kids. They're nice to their pets. They think of themselves as good people and a lot of people who know them do too.

So I ask those of you reading this to think about yourselves, and I'll think about myself too. Now, I'm pretty sure none of you are perpetrating a genocide, running a white supremicist group, enslaving other human beings, or beating your significant other or secretly murdering strangers every night. And I'm not doing any of those things either. But i have done some grave wrongs in my time and just gone on living like it was nothing and now I'm trying to make ammends. Search and see if you have anything for which you should do the same, not that you necessarily do.

The Busy Girls' Cookbook, illustrated

I think this may be the cookbook for me.

Monday, April 07, 2008

Hillary is pissing me off.

Hillary Clinton's campaign is really pissing me off. All of the democratic contenders agreed that they would not campaign in Florida and Michigan because they changed their primary dates and the DNC was punishing them. That's kind of fucked up but that is what they ALL agreed to. So now, with the race neck and neck between Clinton and Obama, I keep getting emails from the Clinton campaign saying things along the lines of "Every vote must be counted!" as if there is a voter suppression going on. Hillary of course won those states -- in Florida she was the only one on the ballot even -- so NOW she wants them counted. Despite her previous agreement.

Friday, April 04, 2008

It does kind of make saying "I'm gay" at Christmas dinner seem a little easier,

but I wish the news would STFU already about the "pregnant man", Thomas Beatie. There is nothing new here. The news reports on this like he's going to birth the kid out of his anus.

He -- who was born biologically a female -- kept his reproductive organs when he transitioned. So while he may be "legally male" with a "strong male gender identity", given that he is PREGNANT means he has a eggs and a womb. Frankly, I'm surprised this hasn't happened before.

Remember Mad Magazine fold ins?

Here's a collection of some from decades past and present, also via b3ta.

Grey Bloke Gets a Skype Call

So wrong.

"You'll start of thinking this is a bit boring,
then it suddenly becomes utterly foul and very
funny in an extremely wrong way. We won't spoil
it for you, just enjoy it."

[via b3ta]

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

The alleged ringleader, Malachi, is still at large in the cornfield

Seriously, what kind of world are we living in? 11 third graders plotted to kill their teacher.

Most notable supply brought along: ribbon.

[via unfogged]