I'll come up with something in a minute.

Pictures of things

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May 30, 2011 Posted by | Photo | | Leave a comment

New Masks

While I don’t make a huge deal about it, I do love maks. I enjoy faces with dead, hollow eyes, looking at me. Call it a kink. ANYWAY! I got some new masks for my walls…

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May 30, 2011 Posted by | Photo | | Leave a comment

No, all men know Red Socks mean sex.

I recently read an article that several people posted, and while I agree with most of what the author said, I noticed a glaring omission. At least it was glaring to me, and I’m going to mention it. I wouldn’t say that the point missed is the most important, I would put it number three or four on this list, but it is very important to me.

Men must always be the romantic pursuers.

This one frustrates the hell out of me because I am not good at pursuing romantic leads. If a girl keeps trotting just out of reach in hopes that I’ll chase her, I’m far more likely to say “Every time I start to get close, she moves away. She must not want me near her.” I know a lot of guys who are bad at working out what the girl is thinking and if she wants to be pursued or just left alone. However, good or bad, we have to do it or die alone. This is because everyone knows a girl is NEVER supposed to so much as say she likes a guy, lest she be seen as too eager and thus… slutty. It doesn’t even matter if she is sexually promiscuous*, because she chases a boy she likes, she is instantly a slut and no better than she should be. So she has to try and be subtle and send tiny hand written notes while he’s looking for billboard signs of approval.

This sets up a moronic situation where girls are sending coded signals that she thinks are obvious and men are just missing. In the end, it means that I end up listening to girls complain “I don’t know what else to do. I wore red socks.” to which I end up saying, “Well, you have to understand… wait, what?” and she says “Yeah, I wore red socks. I even pointed them out to him.”

Me: “Which means… what exactly?”
Her: “Well, the red socks means that I’m totally hot for him. That I’d fuck him in the hallway, right there and then, if only he’d ask me. But he hasn’t asked me, so he must not want me. *SOB*”
Me: “WHAT?”
Other Female: “Yeah, that’s totally what red socks mean.”
Me: “Since… fucking… when?”
There’s more to this conversation, but their end turns into more secret code talk and my end devolves into an interesting pattern of profanity and bafflement. .

The point is that it would help enormously if we all agreed that girls can pursue boys and no one is a slut or a fag for letting it happen. Also, can we all agree to either dump things like the red socks, or to give men a cheat sheet so we know what the obscure things you think you’re being obvious about actually is? Seriously, red socks? I didn’t make that shit up.

*not that I have anything against promiscuity mind.

May 29, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | , | Leave a comment

PICUTRES! The uh… hands of fate

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May 29, 2011 Posted by | Photo | , | Leave a comment

You will be redeemed through Kung-Fu (a poem)

Every once in a while
I find myself asking
What if it was really Bruce Lee
That died for our sins
And then
Because that drinking game
Never actually ended
I have to take a shot

May 28, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | | Leave a comment

Another pic post

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May 27, 2011 Posted by | Photo | | Leave a comment

A few pictures

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May 25, 2011 Posted by | Photo | | Leave a comment

Now you too can be a true love of someone’s

Use a laser to fuse the threads, you’ll get a shirt without seams or needlework.
Dry cleaning should have an obvious solution, though I question doing it in a well.
Drying out on an old bush should be easy if you snap off the pointier thorns first.

To get seeds from the north side of a dam, just go to the Nile River.
Embed a peacock feather in Lucite, you could just about use it as a hoe.
If you impregnate a piece of leather with the right plastics, you could produce a leather sickle capable of cutting down some crops.
Heather can be woven into a rope, you just gotta be careful and work with fresh stuff.

Still working on that acre of land, but I suspect the answer lies in a shallow area. One of those that a large area shows up when the tide goes out.

Also working on not being obsessed with folk songs from the 1600s, but that’s not going as well.

While on the subject, if you think prophecy protects you, check the careful wording before declaring it in battle to the one person who is a living loophole.

May 24, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Just saying… rapture edition

This whole rapture business has made me want to start screaming something at Christians. The phrase, “Take a good, long, hard look at your religion” has been springing to my lips. Because seriously, that shit is kind of fucked up from an outsiders’ point of view.

I mean, only 3% of Christians are expected to be taken up in the rapture. That says to me that no matter how good you try to be, how strong your faith, you will never, ever be good enough. You signed up with the most judgmental prick in the universe, an over-powered busy body who wipes out all life because man is somehow “wicked” and he gets pissed about that. I mean, have you ever read the list of things at are an abomination unto Nuggan? Stupid shit, shit that don’t matter to nobody but this so-called god and the silly rules lawyers who quote him. What you eat, if you shave, mixing fabrics, who you fuck… shit that ain’t no body’s business, not even the gods. These aren’t rules for a good life, these are bullshit micromanaging laws to make sure you are kept in line by an office sociopath. I mean what kind of holy writ is this? It is a sin to be cool.

Second! Okay, gonna cheat but, this comic perfectly defines my second problem really. So, really? Pain, penury and persecution are the road to faith? You guys have heard about enjoying yourself, right? I mean, a mature god doesn’t tear your whole life apart just so you can prove to someone else how much you love them. If this were a relationship, people would tell you that you’re dating a psycho and you need to leave them… like now. Don’t pack, don’t tell him, run! Before he kills the firstborns… again!

Seriously, you want a god in your life, go pagan. They have cookies, some of them literally have devotional cookies*. Just for a moment, let’s compare the two. Pain, misery, arrogance of leaders, and the constant torment that the one time you frenched Suzie Jenkins on a dare in fourth grade (before you learned what frenching actually is) will damn you forever on the one side. On the other side, cookies, wine, sex, and a god who generally only fucks your shit up if you piss them off personally by burning one of their temples or killing their kid or something. Also, pagans rarely, if ever, go around claiming that the world is going to end on a set day just to get attention.

I’m just saying it might be time to take a good, hard look at your religion and ask yourself if maybe you should compare with what others are doing.

Just saying.

*Technically, they’re little cakes, but they’re really good cakes.

May 23, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | | Leave a comment

Five Pics

Just 5, promise.

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May 22, 2011 Posted by | Photo | | Leave a comment