subject:
The Power of "X" - Shadow of Yserbius
post date:
2007-04-07 22:53:58
views: 24 comments: 0 ratings: 0

(The Shadow of Yserbius was one of the first online roleplay games. It gave a place for many personalities to be born within me and have their say. You can meet some of the other denizens of Yserbius and read their thoughts at www.yserbius.org).The Power of "X" - Shadow of Yserbius Yserbius had the "X" factor for me. I've spent the years from then to now thinking very deeply about what that entailed. I've been in every major online rpg game since leaving Yserbius, none has had the power to enthrall me the way Yserbius did. In fact, a straight two hour stretch of playing in any of the worlds I've traversed since then has been - well... a stretch. Days go by and I don't log in. A few months go by and I decide its time to cancel my account due to lack of use and interest. Why? The games are so much prettier now, so vibrant, the storylines so much more complex (in some), there's so many more people!For myself, I've decided that I need a world that mostly lives within my mind, not before my eyes. I need to be surrounded by people that have the desire to work with me to create a world of mystery, thrills, chills, a few spills, lots of laughs, and some love. Those people were in Yserbius. Because of its dearth of pretty pictures and large scale "events", we were all forced to use our creative talents to make a world that we could feel was alive. We had histories, we had factions, we had hatred, loves, lies, and irrefutable truths. I liked having the solidity of an "X" to watch move across a room. I knew that "X" was me. But I was so much more than an "X". I was whatever I wanted to be. Whatever anybody wanted me to be.There was nothing that outraged me more than people that brought the mundane world into the open channel of the taverns. I did not want help living my life from the people online - I wanted them to help me create an entirely different life.Queensryche's "Silent Lucidity" says it perfectly:There’s a place I like to hideA doorway that I run to in the nightRelax child, you were thereBut only didn’t realize it and you were scaredIt’s a place where you will learnTo face your fears, retrace the tearsAnd ride the whims of your mindCommanding in another worldSuddenly, you hear and seeThis magic new dimensionI interpreted that song to perfectly fit what I took from my Yserbian experiences. I was able to live in duality. To have both Yin and Yang (cumofsumyoungguy - was their last name. Just KIDDING!). To be a vampire queen named Ensaneti in the same day that I was doing income taxes. Of course blood sucking was the theme there too. ;)Long Live "X", and all its possibilities.

subject:
A Herstory of Ultima Online
post date:
2007-02-18 21:55:20
views: 32 comments: 1 ratings: 0

A Herstory of UO --------------------------------------------------------------------------------Dwelling in possibility, believing in the greater good of mist, magic, and maybes - this is my creed. It required that I pick up and use anyrandom recall rune I found on the corpse of a PK massacre victim, beast slain adventurer, or pile of discareded "junk". Eventually, it paid off in a grand adventure.I used the recall rune I'd found laying in the wilderness. It put me inside a guildhouse full of treasure. Obviously the rune had been made before the house was built, because to my knowledge you could not recall to the interior of a structure. An adventure AND an anomaly. Such joy I felt that day. Such reinforcement of my creed!I started with the chests of regents. I loaded myself to capacity, used another recall rune to return to my house located in the Merc compound of buildings. I dropped it all. Recalled back in to the target guildhouse. Trespassing was quite exciting. It was only going to intensify.After a few more loads of regents, I teleported back in to gather the gold. A person walked in to the house as I was taking the gold out of a chest. I smiled and said, "Hi! I'm new, who are you?", listened politely to the name given, then said, "Be right back!" and recalled out with their gold. I made a stop at the Merc castle and told all who would listen of my discovery and plundering. I laid my rune upon the ground and we all recalled off of it and in to the target guildhouse.It was impossible to pretend to have good intentions when a horde of Mercs followed me back in to the house, swords drawn. Plundering turned to a bloodbath.The guildhouse was suddenly filled with the members of the guild. The Mercs kept piling in through the use of the recall rune. Unfortunately the anomaly showed its weakness as Mercs began to get stuck in the floorboards, unable to move. The Mercs put up a good fight, even after becoming lodged in the floorboards, and many of the unknown, violated, victimized, robbed, and generally unlucky guildmembers died that day. They also lost a large portion of their hoarded treasure. I left the Mercs to their killing and returned to my walks through the woods, one eye on the ground for another adventure's beginning.__________________Lady China, currently Sylara"You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star." Nietzsche

subject:
Tokens of Love
post date:
2007-04-07 23:01:42
views: 33 comments: 0 ratings: 0

Tokens of Love (The following story contains graphic examples of dirty gene pools. BEWARE.)My husband bought me zebra finches. A male and a female. Eight months later they had turned into sixteen zebra finches. Two females and fourteen males. The second female was the result of one of the first male offspring of Cosmo (the male) and Wanda (the female), breeding with his mother. She was born with funky feet. Think the dance the Peanuts Gang do, but with their feet forever turned in towards each other. Being the politically correct person that I am, I named her Retard Girl. I guess that her father was also her brother.Cosmo, her father, mated with her, and they produced a few other males. So this male's father was also his grandfather. One of these males mated with his mother, who was the daughter of his father's father and also grandfather. They had another male. This male had a gimpy wing. It just sort of hangs at his side. He is very adept at climbing though. A monkey has nothing on this zebra finch. Using his beak and his feet he climbs the bars of a very large cage (its about as tall as a 3rd grader - necessary with such huge quantities of love in the air), you can only tell that he's not exactly prime finch material by the loud metallic "CLANG" that is heard when he decides he's hungry and has to "fly" down to the food dish at the bottom of the cage. Its more like a plummet. I figure its just as well that he never really tries to use his functional wing. He'd spend forever flying in circles. Using all the powers of imagination at my disposal, I named him "Hurt Wing."Hurt Wing and Retard Girl hooked up in that "special" way. It was a case of a male breeding with his sister who was also his mother. His father was the father of his sister/mother, and also his own grandfather. They had a baby. This baby had a crooked top beak, only half there. Looking for a positive I noted how cute his tongue was as it visiably flickered in and out of his mouth. When it was time to fledge, he hopped out of the nest like all the rest had, unfortunately he had no balance. He was a finch weeble. He would try to get upright, only to fall to the other side. His daddy, Hurt Wing, would sort of shove him against the side of the bottom of the cage in order to regurgetate seed into his mouth when he shouted "HEY I AM HUNGRY". Of course there would first be the "CLANG" of Hurt Wing hitting the bottom of the cage, as he plummetted down from on high to respond to his son's/nephew's cries. Retard Girl was busy sitting on new eggs and didn't dare leave her latest batch of genetic excellence to care for Weeble. Yes, his name was Weeble.I've never seen such a will to thrive as Weeble displayed. He couldn't fly, he couldn't even sit up right, but he was gonna go places. He spent his days rolling from one side of the cage to the other. His father Hurt Wing would plummet to feed him, shoving him up against the side of the cage, and then it'd be back to going places for Weeble. The other birds didn't much care for him and somehow he lost an eye. He tried to roll so his one good eye was up. My husband said he'd "take care" of him for me. But I had hope. Maybe he'd grow out of his neurological deficiences. Maybe his beak would grow and straighten. He had heart. He didn't know he wasn't acting like a bird. He'd never been anything other than what he was. Never done anything more than what he'd done. He probably figured all the birds above him weren't as talented as he was, they didn't know how to roll. He wasn't suffering. His father never left him to starve. I held him to give him physical touch. Bird's preen each other, so I figured he needed some warmth.Well, last week he died. I went to give him some touch and he was just laying on the bottom of the cage, not rolling. He had a few months of life. I had an opportunity to gain some good advice.1. Don't mate with your sister/aunt/mother/ when your father is your own uncle/grandfather.2. Never give up, never surrender.3. Always try to land with your good eye up.

subject:
Secular Islamic Summit
post date:
2007-02-14 20:48:40
views: 28 comments: 0 ratings: 0

http://www.muslim-refusenik.com/I saw Irshad Manji on the Glenn Beck show the other night and I spent most of her interview time nodding my head and muttering "DATS RIGHT!" (cause sometimes I just like to say it like that). This woman impressed me with her articulation, her faith in Islam, and her understanding of some of the problems inherent in the religion of Islam today and how it plays out into the world of "now".I've been spending some time learning about Islam. It began with a man named Muhommad, who wasn't anybody special at all, and who went to a cave and heard the voice of an angel. He returned to his town of Medina and was pretty much astrocized as a fool and a crazy person for telling his tale of the angel voice. In time he managed to gather a few believers to his words. They left Medina and went into the city of Mecca. Even more followers gathered around him. The fierce warrior chiefs of desert tribes decided to throw in their support of his words. These are the people that founded Islam. The traits of the warriors permeated those that founded the religion. Irshad Manji speaks to the need for a different sort of muslim in today's world. She brings concepts of humanity into the fray. On March 5th, in Saint Petersburg Florida there is going to be a Secular Islamic Summit. Like minded muslims from all over the world are going to gather to discuss the need for a change in the way that Islam is perceived. One of her main points on the Glenn Beck show was that it was the fundementalists that were busy creating atrocities, and they are far fewer than the vast majority of muslims, yet the majority remains silent in the face of the atrocities. They do not protest the acts of a few, and its the face of the few that the world sees and believes. Its sort of like Nazi Germany. Most of the Germans were not horror inflicting Nazis. They were just citizens that assumed those that were taking control were doing what was best. They were complacent and eventually paid the price, as did much of the world, and most especially those of the Jewish faith. We need to break the silence. Extremists on either side - christian or muslim, or any other belief system, need to know that co-operation is the path to co-existance. Its up to us to speak in our tones of compromise - especially over the shrieking of the extremists.

subject:
Black Queen
post date:
2007-02-07 23:17:25
views: 37 comments: 0 ratings: 0

I'm a princess now. Crowned with the love of my husband. Kept with the fruits of his labor. I wasn't always so lucky in love. My first husband beat me, cheated on me, degraded me, impaled me. The greatest gift he gave me was a son and a daughter - and one bruise too many that turned to just the right amount of incentive to leave the relationship.We were the Three Muskateers - my son, my daughter and I. Together we sat around a christmas tree with most of its needles dropped that my grandmother - a teacher - gave to us after having it up in her classroom. We didn't have any presents. It didn't matter. We had a playhouse with a slide on it in the middle of our livingroom that my father built for us. And we played. We grew up together. Me from a teenager into a woman. I stayed on welfare until my pride couldn't take it anymore. No more shopping at 3 in the morning so that I wouldn't end up in line with somebody I knew while using foodstamps. The children and I would make it. There was no child support. I ignored sense and stopped filling out the required forms for welfare. I went to work at a temporary agency, praying for the phone to ring for a new assignment. The children needed to eat. I didn't. I used to eat every couple of days. What a great diet. I watched for opportunities to secure my children's future. The postal exam came around. I took it. I took it again. I took it yet again. That time I got 100 percent on the test and was offered a job. Salvation.The children were enrolled in sports, dance, educational programs. Anything I could do to promote their potential mental and emotional growth I embraced. I worked long, long hours. My mother watched the children. But I never missed a game. I sat at practices. I volunteered on field trips. They were my everything. Those sweet babies with a bad father, and faith in me.Hard times came around again. This time it was with my children as teenagers. They each had their experiences with underage drinking and marijuana. Thank God they never could get away with anything and the police were there to make life an immediate hell, with hope for a future heaven - if the lessons were learned. Don't drink, don't use drugs. Obey the law. Be good. They paid their own fines. They made amends. Eventually they did learn. I loved them so much. I struggled with the knowledge that rules needed to be abided by, and with the memories of what they'd suffered emotionally with their father. I wanted to make everything right for them, but I had to let them taste the fruits of their actions. I remember when I had to talk to my son on a phone, while staring at him in an orange jumpsuit through a plexiglass barrier in a jail. I loved him so much then. I hurt for him so badly then. I offered some truth. Some wisdom. He hung up the phone and got up to leave, turned and found he was imprisoned - with me. He came back to the phone. There wasn't anywhere to go. He learned. I had to watch him suffer in that circumstance just once. He learned.One day, I got a message on my cell phone. It was from my adult son. No longer the sweet baby, not the striving child, not the rebellious teen. A grown man. And that grown man crowned me his queen mother. He let Tupac Shakur deliver his message to me. He left the song "Dear Mama" for me to listen to. Over and over and over again. For a couple years. Every week. I listened to that song left by my sweet baby. Whenever the option of deleting the message came up I hit "RE-SAVE". Redemption. He joked with me that with my eccentricity I might as well have been a crack fiend. He meant the rest of the words too."...and even as a crack fiend mama, ya always was a black queen mama I finally understand for a woman it ain't easy--trying ta raise a man ya always wuz commited, a poor single mother on welfare, tell me how ya did it there's no way I can pay ya back but tha plan is ta show ya that I understand. you are appreciated...... Laaaaady, don't cha know we luv ya Sweeeet Laaaady, place no one above ya Sweeeet Laaaady, don't cha know we luv ya...pour out some liquor and I remenise cause through tha drama, I can always depend on my mama and when it seems that i'm hopeless you say tha words that can get me back in focus when I wuz sick as a little kid ta keep me happy theres no limit to tha things ya did and all my childhood memories are full of all tha sweet things ya did for me and even though I act craaaazy I got ta thank tha Lord that ya maaaade me There are no words that can express how I feel Ya never kept a secret, always stayed real and I appreciate how ya raised me and all tha extra love that ya gave me I wish I could take tha pain away If you can make it through tha night, there's a brighter day everything'll be alright if ya hold on it's a strugle everyday gotta roll on and there's no way I can pay ya back but my plan is ta show ya that I understand you are appreciated..."My daughter called and left a message on my cellphone a few months ago. It was Tupac Shakur "Dear Mama". And I listen to it. Weekly. Its my honor to be your crack fiend, black queen, children - your dear mama. Its my life.

subject:
Details - THEY MATTER
post date:
2007-03-26 13:48:49
views: 29 comments: 0 ratings: 0

Below is a fine example of why FONT and COLOR matter... The whole premise of my MSN experiement was to see if the mere changing of a color and a font would make the topic seem more likely to occur, or less believeable. The font and color DID change there, but I can't copy and paste it properly over here. ALAS.Apparently nothing is believeable if its of a serious nature when written in lime green, comic sans. FIRE!!! - is most believeable when written in a bold masculine maroon font. Cutting off of dicks and feeding them to dogs is most threatening (and believeable) when its written in a feminine pink script. Huh.(MSN LOG): (All written in pink script)Can you possibly take anything I say seriously when its written in pink?Monica says:I'm doing an experiment on color right nowMonica says:Lets see...I Love The Game says:ohhh u make ex[erimentMonica says:you tell me what engenders the most reaction from youMonica says:okay?I Love The Game says:okiMonica says:Don't tell me until I ask for your reactionI Love The Game says:okiMonica says:So I decided that I would cut his dick off and feed it to the dogs....I Love The Game says:heheMonica says:FIRE!!!I Love The Game says:yes (All written in a bold masculine blockish maroon font)Monica says:So I decided I would cut his dick off and feed it to the dogs...Monica says:FIRE!!!I Love The Game says:yesI Love The Game says:that its better and i can see more good(All written in a lime greem comic sans font)Monica says:So I decided I would cut his dick off and feed it to the dogs...Monica says:FIRE!!!I Love The Game says:this colot sucksI Love The Game says:Monica says:Now which one of those sounds like the more viable threat?Monica says:for either sentenceI Love The Game says:pink its betterI Love The Game says:and blueMonica says:do you feel more threatened with the dick thing in pink femine writing?I Love The Game says:hmmmmmmmI Love The Game says:maybeMonica says:FeminineI Love The Game is inviting you to start sending webcam. Do you want to Accept (Alt+C) or Decline (Alt+D) the invitation?I Love The Game is inviting you to start viewing webcam. Do you want to Accept (Alt+C) or Decline (Alt+D) the invitation?Monica says:do you feel likely to believe the "FIRE!" when its said in a dark masculine writing?I Love The Game says:hmmmmmmmmmMonica says:Do you feel like disbelieving either sentence when its done in a lime green comic sans script?I Love The Game says:Yes

subject:
Project Ijtihad
post date:
2007-03-07 10:18:59
views: 26 comments: 0 ratings: 0

Ignorance is NOT bliss. Too many people accept religious idealogies based upon rote and not upon reflection. The industrialization of the world and the scientific advances we've made over the last few hundred years has left us starving for soul food. This is resulting in a return to hardcore religious roots. We NEED spiritualism and faith, divinity and hope - but it cannot come at the cost of thought.The following link leads to the beginning of renewal of thought. You don't need to be a muslim to support the resurgance of thinking freely within the parameters of a faith.GO TO:www.myspace.com/projectijtihad(copied from that site)Ijtihad (pronounced “ij-tee-had”) is Islam’s lost tradition of independent thinking. In the early centuries of Islam, thanks to the spirit of ijtihad, 135 schools of thought thrived. Inspired by ijtihad, Muslims gave the world inventions from the astrolabe to the university. So much of we consider "western" pop culture came from Muslims: the guitar, mocha coffee, even the ultra-Spanish expression "Ole!" (which has its root in the Arabic word for God, "Allah"). What happened to ijtihad? Toward the end of the 11th century, the "gates of ijtihad" were closed for entirely political reasons. During this time, the Muslim empire from Iraq in the east to Spain in the west was going through a series of internal upheavals. Dissident denominations were popping up and declaring their own runaway governments, which posed a threat to the main Muslim leader -- the caliph. Based in Baghdad, the caliph cracked down and closed ranks. Remember those 135 schools of thought mentioned above? They were deliberately reduced to four, pretty conservative, schools of thought. This led to a rigid reading of the Koran as well as to a series of legal opinions -- fatwas -- that scholars could no longer overturn or even question, but could now only imitate. To this very day, imitation of medieval norms has trumped innovation in Islam. It’s time to revive ijtihad to update Islam for the 21st century. That’s why I’ve created Project Ijtihad. What's Project Ijtihad? Project Ijtihad is our foundation to spur a reform in Islam — a reform that enables the emerging generation of Muslims, especially young women, to challenge authoritarianism and restore Islam’s tradition of critical thinking. Our mission is to build the world’s first leadership network for reform-minded Muslims. And we will do that by creating a dynamic website on which Project Ijtihad will feature the most taboo-busting debates about – and within –the world of Islam. For example, can Muslims marry non-Muslims? Along with the debate itself, we’ll have the debaters post their sources and recommendations for further reading. That way, those who are serious about reviving Ijtihad in Islam have a place to come and argue, reflect, think, analyze and argue some more. We hope to make the site such an educational goldmine that we’ll be able to partner with various schools, colleges, and universities to offer courses about Islamic reform. Today, everybody teaches Islam. The next step is to teach the reform of Islam. Project Ijtihad will work for that day. Salaam and thank you,Irshad Manji, Chief Catalyst, Project Ijtihad
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subject:
Turning Decapitation into a WIN!
post date:
2007-05-19 21:33:28
views: 40 comments: 0 ratings: 0

I got stuck in a rummage sale frame of mind today. "EVERYTHING MUST GO!" was the keynote. This led to General Mom (me), ordering about Privates Son, Daughter, and Husband. My orders included dragging EVERY box of unidentified odds and ends up from the basement, and even my gigantic elf with the huge sack - Santa.Santa didn't make it. Well, his head didn't. He took out a very treasured hanging votive holder in the hallway with his bag of goodies as Private Son shoved the six and a half foot elf outside. Then his head fell onto the driveway. Interestingly enough a huge glob of plastic/ceramic stuff fell out of his neck area. The brain. Not a single sugar plum in sight. I guess the dancing candied fruit is only in the heads of those nestled snug in their beds.GOOD NEWS THOUGH! We're all going to take turns being Santa's head. We salvaged the beard, and as any mall goer knows - its the beard and the outfit that counts. He looks creepy decapitated, but I think the stand in cranium idea is a winner. Next time I'll include the beard.Oh, and then it poured rain on my rummage sale long enough for me to make some command decisions. I just gave more orders to MOVE OUT and IN TO THE GARAGE! I must have made a least fifty dollars in an eight hour period. Whoo hooo! I took everybody out to see "28 Weeks Later" and got the Captain Jack Sparrow (drooooooooling here) refillable popcorn bucket so the summer movie season will be filled with sure popcorn, if not sure hits. The movie made me jump and think about the instinct to survive. I liked it.After the movie we all stood in the crowded lobby and played a game. Its called "PSYCHE!!FINGER or Do You See What I See?" One person (in this case my husband) assumes an expression of wonder (a slack jawed open mouth is the best way to impart that emotion) and points towards the sky (or the ceiling in an interior setting). Another person (in this case me) observes the crowd to see how many heads will turn upwards to try and see the wonderous object. I counted seven in the brief moment I had before giggles took over. Its been a good day.
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subject:
When World's Collide
post date:
2007-01-10 15:40:00
views: 50 comments: 0 ratings: 0

Eminem - Just Lose It. "Come here little kiddes, guess who's back. Ahh ahh ahh ahh ahh!"What a perfect song to have on while I write about my day. A conglomeration of childish soundsand grown up ideas.My little girl, a fifth grader who takes pride in her ability to inspire the fear of a good beat down in boys much bigger than she is by virtue of her fearsome energetic personality alone, went on her first "date". She likes a boy from her class and he likes her. When I asked her what she liked about him she told me that he was "clean". I took the opportunity to expound on the joys of hygiene and wonder aloud why I still had to almost make it a direct order to gether in to the tub to enjoy some hygiene herself. (Instance ONE of world's colliding).Sparkling Boy and Bouncy Daughter wanted to see the new version of Charlotte's Web. After some intense negotiations with Protective Daddy, it was agreed that this could be accomplished if I provided transportation and maintained a physical presence in the movie theater. So Young Mister Sheen spent his money on two tickets to the early afternoon show, and I provided popcorn and sodas all around. (Instance TWO of world's colliding).(side trip alert: Does Akon have no other sources of inspiration for his songs beyondstrippers? Or is it only strippers that manage to inspire hit songs?)I reigned in supreme solitude in the front row area of the theater. Another mother withtwo young children took over the mid-section of the theater. Young Love took two seats in the very back row at the top of the theater. My solitude worked well for me since I almost immediately sprang a leak from the corners of my eyes once the movie started. Luckily I had a fistful of napkins to mop up both popcorn butter and tears.Everybody should go and see Charlotte's Web. It's funny, wise, tense, and it explored issues of prejudice, loyalty, justice, friendship, growing up and legacy in bites small enough to slip into the psychological gullet of the very young or even the small minded old. The mother of the young girl determined to raise the runty piglet, Wilber, spent some time in the doctor's office talking about her concern for the amount of time her daughter spent in the barn with just the company of animals and her storybooks. The doctor told the mother that it was a common condition called "childhood" and that it was something that unfortunately would be outgrown. I went through more than a few napkins with the eye leakage that manifested at those words. The eyes in the back of my head saw Sparkling Boy and Bouncy Girl. (Instance THREE of world's colliding).(side trip alert: A few nights ago I woke up and saw an alligator in the thinning forest behind my Michigan house. Winter rain had left a landscape that looked swampish in the night. I called my husband and pulled him to the window, pointing at the alligator. He expressed amazement and pulled me back to bed and covered me up. The next day I found my alligator again. It turns out it's two tree stumps during the day. TRICKY.)Wilber the pig told Charlotte that he didn't deserve all the work and kind words she had spun over his head. He said it while the gentle wind blew the word HUMBLE back and forth in the web. She told him that her time was done. She had been born, she had lived, and now her magnus opus was her newly created egg sac - 514 children waiting to born. Her legacy. The eyes in the back of my head saw bouncy girl behind me and then flashed images of my other children, busy with lives that at that moment didn't include me lurking in the flesh. My legacy. More napkins disintegrated in a salt water stream. (Instance FOUR of world's colliding).The movie ended. I sniffled. Dabbed. Young Love rejoined me. After we dropped sparkling boy off at his house my daughter climbed in to the front seat beside me and looked at me. She said, "You've got something stuck on the corner of your eye." It was a piece of napkin. I pulled it off and she told me that she wanted her blankey, she was tired. (Instance FIVE of world's colliding).The people of the world of Charlotte's Web saw more of the miracles of every day after they'd experienced the spider's talent. The miracles that were always there, but they hadn't hadthe eyes to see. Spin a web. See.

subject:
Who Wants To Be A Superhero
post date:
2007-01-15 15:14:34
views: 39 comments: 1 ratings: 0

Stan Lee's "Who Wants To Be A Superhero" is a great concept. I loved last season, and I spent many silly minutes with my children while they told me what their superhero would be.My daughter's Superhero was going to use Hello Kitty stickers to plaster on the bad guys and these stickers would apparently suffocate them. I liked the dichotomy of sweetness and horrible slow death. Thats my girl.My son was going to be some sort of magnetically propelled Superhero. I got a sideache laughing about the vision of him having to find a magnetic energy that would thrust him forward. And what about when he found that perfect opposite? Oh sure, he'd get to that point with great speed, but how would he get away?My own initial Superhero was some sort of Flora/Fauna Freak. She had a tumbleweed for a hat, and it was filled with small forest creatures that would rush out and do her bidding. I've evolved.My new Superhero is called The C.O.G. - The Child Of God. The costume shows a cosmic machine design - a Yin/Yang turning upon a Star of David, which would raise a Tree of Life, and at the top would pop a Star and Crescent. All the ideology that leads to Divinity would be represented in some way. The purpose of this hero would be to show love to all and any. To uplift those stumbling and lost, and to shine a light on those that are displaying the traits that validate the sense that we are all C.O.G.s -There wouldn't be a beat down of the devil, just an unstoppable updraft from the wings of soul flyers.I know that some people are afraid of being a part of the Great Machine. We fight so hard to become individuals and then the realization comes that we are part of something larger and connected. There's nothing to fear. The C.O.G. would make clear that every little movement within the Great Machine is as important as any motion of a grander part. We all have our jobs to do. We're all important for the smooth function of the Great Machine that is Divinity.

subject:
Something In The Water
post date:
2007-04-07 21:22:58
views: 24 comments: 0 ratings: 0

(originally blogged October 9, 2005)There must be something in the water. Well, actually I know there is. I just saw them tonight. Babies. Little fish babies.It all started a month ago when a small red slider turtle was added to the menagerie. My daughter brought it home in a tiny little plastic box. It looked so unturtley. Definately not turtley enough for the turtle club. Research was done. It turns out that turtles need not a tiny plastic box to live in, but a full sized tank; a UV light so that his shell receives simulated daylight in order to avoid shell rot; a turtle dock that he can climb up on in order to bask under the UV light; a filter to keep his water clean; gravel to dig in; a snail to help keep the tank clean; and feeder fish that he can chase and eat in order to get excercise and not be a dock potato.He never chased the two miniscule fish. He never excercised. They did. They excercised their primary programming - be fruitful, MULTIPLY. How could it be that the very last two guppies in a huge tank at the local pet store were a male and female? How could it be that the turtle would end up disobeying his instinct to chase fish? Fate? Coinky dink?I thought the little fish were just being overfed, especially one of them. That was until intense scrutiny at quarter inch specks of mostly transparent matter turned out to be little Mini Feeder Fish That A Lazy Turtle Didn't Eat.I'm not going to name them. I'm going to start shoving the turtle off his dock and into the water where his intended prey is slowly but surely taking over his turf. His pond?I heard a nasty rumor that snails don't require a mate in order to breed...

subject:
When Bad Days Happen
post date:
2007-04-07 21:39:59
views: 18 comments: 0 ratings: 0

(This is a conversation that took place in the NTS chatroom May 28, 2006. I loved this place - brutes all of them, but funny)Sylara: I'm not a guy - I just like guysSylara: the things they do are more vibrantSylara: who can resist a bloody mouth?Sylara: since you're a thinking man, NojoySylara: give me your opinion on this following -(Then I insert an old msn conversation I had with the one guy that I probably almost would have behaved for - I'm Monica in this log) 12/8/2005 12:01:30 AM Monica (to) Kevinhey I got a defination for you so we could speak the same language12/8/2005 12:01:35 AM Monica (to) KevinWhen I talk about "a fantasy" - that means - to me - that by default it will never take place. It is a FANTASY. It is good only because it will never happen, and that very aspect of never gonna happen frees me to explore parts of it in my mind. Something that I desire and am going to get or do, I call a "GOAL"... not a fantasy. So the next time I appall you with an idea that is very much a horrible thing if acted upon, remember that to me if I say FANTASY... its never gonna happen. Also, it'd be nice if maybe I do say something like that if you could let me explain the aspects that are intriguing to me. I promise I'll do the same for you, (then I return to my commentary on what I posted to the NTS chatroom, speaking to Nojoy - who happens to hang out on Cherry Tap too. I'll get to him...)Sylara: .......................Sylara: This guy got totally unfixaxbly bent out of shape over sheep.Sylara: I cry to this daynojoy: lmaonojoy: yea us guys can rock like that =pSylara: how... undetailed.Sylara: I don't know if you're talking about the bloody mouth, the fantasy definition, or the sheep(Then I post to the NTS chatroom another treasured exchange between Kevin and myself)12/9/2005 4:40:25 PM Monica (to) KevinYES. You would like me to tell you that when I sit down with my legs spread apart the gust of wind that exits the cavernous chamber of my love canel is enough to extinguish 100 candles of vigilant devotion12/9/2005 4:40:31 PM Monica (to)Kevin but no.(At this point I'm bounced from the NTS chatroom by Pang (je t'aime, Pang)- another brute, but soooo smart. Upon my return a few minutes later I carry on)Sylara: lolSylara: I love PangSylara: but don't tell himnojoy: =)Sylara: I'm having a bad daynojoy: lolSylara: He's right thoughSylara: Pang knows, somehow, that I am on a downward spiral - its gonna get messy if allowed to continue. So far I'd only gotten to fantasy definitions and the creative extinguishing of 100 candles of vigiliant devotion.Sylara: Imagine how much much MUCH worse it could be.nojoy: kinkynojoy: hes french tho rememberSylara: oui ouinojoy: im sure if you added a name brand beer or liquer hed of +v you

subject:
One More Reason
post date:
2007-04-10 19:24:59
views: 28 comments: 0 ratings: 0

This is one more reason I love my husband. The man is funny. He's out of town on business this week and I'm busy chatting with him online. We may revisit phone sex. Ohhhhh I hope so.While amusing myself on Cherry Tap, as I generally do with great good glee, I found the site for Gary Busey - he is a great big ball of energy. I enjoy his feel immensely, but I couldn't help but proofread his profile and find an error. OOPS. The following exchange contains no malice, just goofiness. Please don't be offended Gary. :) Oh, and fix your profile.Monica says:why does Gary Busey want to "hank you all"Monica says:on cherry tap?Glenn says:because his lower companion requests it!Monica says:wouldn't you think that a celebrity would have a fairly decent spellcheckMonica says:LOLGlenn says:wellGlenn says:he's got a dark monkeyGlenn says:partying with his lower companionGlenn says:gary busey seems the type that keys with 1 fingerMonica says:lolMonica says:does he have a lower companion or a dark monkey?Glenn says:bothMonica says:oh. Cool. Where can I get one?Glenn says:his lower companion tries to do rightGlenn says:but the dark monkey always leads him astrayMonica says:BAD MONKEY! SPANK THE MONKEY!

subject:
Crocodile Hunting
post date:
2007-04-12 10:48:40
views: 21 comments: 0 ratings: 0

(I had this experience on Sunday, September 3rd, 2006. Steve Irwin was such a bright light.)I had a bad dream last night. I woke up crying out. I haven't done that for awhile. My mind had loosened its tethers earlier in the evening. I was in that hazy, lazy expanse of expanded conciousness when I went to bed. When my husband came to bed I curled around him like I always do, and told him about my waking in distress. He asked me if I'd felt a disturbance in the force. I said yes. Then he told me that Steve Irwin had died after being stung in the heart by a stingray. Its so wrong, but its so right.I had a Crocodile Hunter birthday cake for one of my children's parties. The little plastic safari shorted Steve would say, "Crickey, that's a beauty!" when you pushed the button in his back. The cake had a muddy watering hole with a croc in it that Steve had obviously just saved from the cruel prejudice and fear of man and their encroaching civilization. That man had so much life in him. No wonder I woke up in distress. This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. Everybody needs to shine brighter to help make up for his loss. The disco of life depends upon it.Steve was working on a documentary entitled, "The Ocean's Deadliest". His cameraman was in front of the stingray, he was above it. The stingray grew alarmed and did what nature has deemed would be its primary defensive tactic - it flung up its tall with its poison barb. If Steve would have been just a little to the left or the right, it would have pierced his shoulder. Instead he got a shot to the heart. Today I found out that a family member was in a vegetative state, and the decision had been made to not prolong the body's life functions through force feeding. Its the right decision in this case. Just as this family member would have wanted it. But its so hard on the ones that had to make it. I feel a disturbance in the force, and we all need to shine a little brighter

subject:
The Price of Friendship
post date:
2007-04-07 15:31:01
views: 29 comments: 1 ratings: 0

(Read "My Stupid Life" and "When I Hate My Husband" blogs for the background information on this epiphany.)**********************************************I like to clearly identify and understand all aspects of my life and the causation of both triumph and tragedy. I trusted the keeping of a part of myself into the hands of another one more time - inspite of numerous slashes, scars, and amputations from interactions with others. Why? Because I've also had numerous strokes, nurturing, and uplifting from others. My husband and I just got into a verbal battle over the cost of Easter for four children and two grandchildren and ONCE AGAIN I had the fact that I HAD to go and see my friend, and spend my husband's hard earned money on seeing MY friend, thrown in my face. Its been almost a month since my FRIEND threw my friendship back in my face because I didn't ask him how his dinner was at the show I took him to. I'm feeling like less of a road between Tweedledee and Tweedledum and more like a foxhole. That rut is dug deep, and still deeper. The bombs keep falling. BOOM!In keeping with my twisted sense of coping, I thought I'd look up and post the checking account notation that shows exactly how much a lost friendship and a continued fiscal beating from a husband costs. Oh sure - I know there's more to it all than this - but this is like the shape of a dunce cap that says sooooo much about the person that's wearing it. ***********************************03/20/2007 TOMMY GUN'S GARAGE INC, CHICAGO,NC CHECKCARD TRANS. Debit $263.35 ***********************************Pardon me while I go adjust my dunce cap. It seems that my bowed head isn't keeping it properly on. WHATEVER... I would have thought a friendship would cost more.

subject:
Life and Legacy
post date:
2006-12-04 19:51:24
views: 49 comments: 5 ratings: 0

"The grand essentials of happiness are something to love and something to hope for."Today I watched a process of life that began with lust. It progressed to pain. The ending is exactly what comprises the essentials of happiness - something to love and something to hope for. I was an observer of BIRTH.My blog "Wet Dream" is obviously my own birth experience. The water world, the train, the cold, the transition. Today I was part of the birth of my Grandson. A very small part. I stroked my daughter's hair and changed wet towels after her water broke and told her about the imagery of contractions as waves - washing up on the beach, sliding away. At 6:04 p.m. Harper was born. A healthy 8.5 pounds, 22 inches long. My daughter, who is part of my essentials of happiness, was amazing. She kept her energy inside, focused on the working of her body through pain. She didn't scream, she didn't moan. She was motherhood incarnate. Take it in, make it work, bring forth new energy.My legacy in this life is taking on subtle harmonies to compliment the melody. I hear a symphony.

subject:
Fruit Fly Alert!
post date:
2006-12-25 21:39:40
views: 53 comments: 3 ratings: 0

I had a wonderful Christmas. Those of you who have kept up on my blogs at www.myspace.com/sylara know that I'm a sensual person. Thus when I'm stressed by the fact that my hero Kyrandos sends me videos of him fucking some nice girl (I just couldn't figure out why my intense enjoyment of his mind wasn't sufficient for him) - I went shopping for things to apply to my skin that would make me smell delicious. Edible in fact. Part of my Christmas presents included luscious smelling notions and potions, and I didn't even have to be assaulted with an amateur porn movie to get them. My one concern upon reviewing my after bubble bath ritual this afternoon was that I could potentially face a new hazard. No - not more offerings from my eclectic collection of weirdo friends: FRUIT FLY ATTACK!Coconut scrub took the top layer of skin cells off my body. After a vigrous rub down with fluffy towel I smeared a wonderfully thick body creme everywhere - it was called "Happiness", but I did detect an aroma of citrus and sandlewood. After I slid across my sheets I grabbed a bottle of Black Cherry Vanilla oil. This is my favorite concoction to slather on my wings and neck and arms, oh fine - in all the crevices and crannies I have too. To top it off I gently misted myself with "Sensual Amber" eau d'cologne. I am a walking fruit salad. I smell good though. *swats at a pesky buzzing*
Report as NSFW

subject:
The Lady of Shallot
post date:
2007-04-10 17:04:49
views: 30 comments: 0 ratings: 0

The Lady of Shalott is a magical being who lives alone on an island upstream from King Arthur's Camelot. Her business is to look at the world outside her castle window in a mirror, and to weave what she sees into a tapestry. She is forbidden by the magic to look at the outside world directly. The farmers who live near her island hear her singing and know who she is, but never see her. The Lady sees ordinary people, loving couples, and knights in pairs reflected in her mirror. One day, she sees the reflection of Sir Lancelot riding alone. Although she knows that it is forbidden, she looks out the window at him. The mirror shatters, the tapestry flies off on the wind, and the Lady feels the power of her curse.An autumn storm suddenly arises. The lady leaves her castle, finds a boat, writes her name on it, gets into the boat, sets it adrift, and sings her death song as she drifts down the river to Camelot. The locals find the boat and the body, realize who she is, and are saddened. Lancelot prays that God will have mercy on her soul.(More on the poem)The Lady of Shallot, a poem by Lord Tennyson:The Lady of Shallot, named Elaine, and also called the Fair Maid of Astolat, was a beautiful woman who lived alone in a tower on an island in the river that flows down to Camelot. She is held in her room by a curse which does not allow her to go out or even look out the window. Instead she can only see the world through a mirror, which in some versions of the story is a magic mirror but in most is just a large mirror that allows her to see what is happening in the outside world. She weaves tapestries, pictures made with thread, and uses the things she sees in her mirror--scenes of Camelot--as the subject of her tapestries. "There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colours gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott." She gets upset sometimes that she cannot be a part of life outside her window. "But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights, For often thro' the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights And music, went to Camelot: Or when the moon was overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed: 'I am half sick of shadows,' said The Lady of Shalott." When the handsome knight Sir Lancelot passes by her window, she is overwhelmed by him, and forgetting the curse, she looks out the window to see him directly! When she does, the mirror breaks, and the threads of her tapestry break as well... "She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces thro' the room, She saw the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack'd from side to side; 'The curse is come upon me,' cried The Lady of Shalott." She goes down to the riverside and finds a boat, and on the prow (front) of the boat she writes "The Lady of Shallot". She unties the boat and lies down in it, and as she floats down the river toward Camelot, she sings a song. As the curse works it's evil magic, her blood freezes and she dies. The boat lands on the shore of Camelot where where the people of Camelot come out to see what this is, and they see that she has written her name on the front of the boat. In the crowd is Sir Lancelot, who does not know what has happened: "Who is this? and what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; And they cross'd themselves for fear, All the knights at Camelot: But Lancelot mused a little space;He said, 'She has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott.'" ********************************William Waterhouse had a beautiful model that he was in love with, and used in his paintings. He painted "The Lady of Shallot", and it hangs upon my wall, draped with the knotted cord that my husband and I tied during our marriage ceremony. We did literally "Tie the Knot" - and the love and laughter and luck has never run out of our marriage. We work hard at it. The knot works, but our dedication to the strength of the knot is what works best.Marriages that utilize ties that bind are fun. Silken cords. Neckties. Yea... And LOTS of imagination.

subject:
Linear Hunters and Circular Givers
post date:
2007-04-11 23:59:22
views: 31 comments: 1 ratings: 0

My answer to what a person misses with monogamy:What you've been missing is the hunt, the capture, the gutting, and the consumption. Maybe you'll meet an extrodinary creature that demands a piece of you for a piece of her. Thats the one thats going to capture the hunter. It'll be a circle of feeding each other parts of each other, mental, physical, spiritual. When that happens make sure that you're not feeding too big a bite of yourself, or too small, and that you're always aware that she needs to be putting parts of herself in your mouth (figurative AND literal) in order to keep the circle intact. Until you find that extrodinary creature, enjoy the four phases of what's out there. Don't get down when the consumption is done. Just keep hunting. Make sure you don't find yourself on the menu of a linear hunter and not a circular giver. Being gutted and consumed can be painful.

subject:
Speaking In Tongues
post date:
2007-04-12 10:16:09
views: 23 comments: 0 ratings: 0

I've been exploring. The world is covered in a sea of sperm. Relentless, driven, wiggly, wet, and programmed to penetrate. I laid my snares, dug my pits, added a net here and there, and spoke truth. Today I discovered a spermicide.Most people live on the plains, but an extrodinary number of them yearn to see the peaks and valleys. Domination and submission are words that describe that landscape. Part of my geography lesson lies within the Hot Or Not site. My profile reads as follows:I'm incrediably bored. I could read a book, but I'd rather create pages of fiction online - even non-fiction is fun.I like to listen, and then create with others. RPGs, music, movies, silliness, friends - adventure. GOOD STUFF.My keywords are:adventure, books, darkness, dogs, domination, god, horror, humor, imagination, king, koontz, light, maynard, mmorpg, movies, music, mysticism, occult, pets, roleplaying, submission, tool, trancesOf all the contacts I've had with sperm bearers the words "Domination and Submission" are the ones that apparently leap out and snag their interest. Thats dandy. Power is an eternal source of interest to me. Unfortunately today I was in a semi-malicious/mischevious mood and I was unhappy with the quality of a conversation I was engaged in with a Hot Or Not patron. When the inevitable sperm coated query came regarding my interest in domination and submission I spoke in tongues.Oh, not the kind that psychologists say is a sort of neural carnival of misfired synapsis. Rather, the kind where I'm using words that will paint an entirely unexpected picture. The question came. I answered - "Power is of interest to me, I don't care whether I'm the top or the bottom". Huh. I never saw a hetero man run away so fast from the tongued words suggesting he was actually speaking to a male. Spermicide in a phrase. Who needs a tube.

subject:
Oh, the HUMANITY
post date:
2007-04-12 10:21:24
views: 17 comments: 0 ratings: 0

(This was written in response to the Amish community's embracing of the family of the killer of their own children last October. Such a standard to try and emulate.)I watch the world with wonder. We all carry out our little lizard brain directives of feeding, fucking, fighting, and fleeing under the warmth of the same burning sun and the silvering of the same mysterious moon. Some of us rise above the atavistic impulses and bring the divine just a little closer into the world. Its all a matter of choice and free will. The milkman's baby daughter died 20 minutes after she was born. He was filled with rage and hatred towards a God that would let him suffer such a loss. Nine years later he went into an Amish schoolhouse and killed innocent little girls, then himself. Two of the girls offered their lives freely to sate his rage, hoping mercy would be shown to the others. In Columbine two boys took aim and killed classmates. One asked a girl cowering under a table, "Do you believe in God?" She answered, "Yes." She died. The boys killed themselves.Rage and pain filled the hearts of the people of Columbine. Pity and humanity filled the souls of others. Crosses were erected on a hilltop to stand silent witness to the souls lost. The crosses representing the boys that pulled the trigger were torn down.In the Amish farmlands more than half the attendees at a murderous man's funeral were the very people who had lost their innocent young girls. They reached out with love and compassion to the innocence left behind within the family of the murderer - his daughters and wife. Choices. Neither choice made in either horrific tragedy/scenario of victimization made a damn bit of difference to what had happened. Nobody miraculously rose from their coffin, renewed and revived. No further understanding into the incomprehensible motivations of the perpetrators was given in a booming message from the divine on high. I look at the choices made and I literally weep at the bitter sweet joy I feel when true forgiveness, love, mercy, and acceptance are shown. There's hope.

subject:
Ephiphany
post date:
2007-04-12 10:30:01
views: 16 comments: 0 ratings: 0

(Early October of 2006. The pre-teen trama hasn't gotten less, I think we're just adding pre-premenstral syndrome to the mix. Oh joy...)I walked in the door from work and somewhere between a cheerful greeting to my 10 year old daughter and opening the gas bill the world exploded. Small scale explosion. More of a POP than a BOOM. My daughter was yelling at me, for raising my voice at her, for scolding me, after tattling misinformation to my mother, who relayed boundries to my daughter to tell to me, who didn't need them, because the reality expressed was subjective and didn't exist beyond the mind of the one who was angry with her brother, and pulled rank via manipulation of the matriarch.Understand?So I told her she may not yell at me, and she was to go to her room for a half an hour. She did not. She sat on the couch and stared at the tv. I turned it off. She said she could sit there and do nothing. I told her that she was to go to her room for a half an hour. She sat. I was not going to drag her off the couch and yank her up the stairs. I could have, but what good did that ever do? To a woman, what good is it to know that there are always going to be people that are physically stronger than you? What good is it going to do to punish with physical power? Enforce with brute strength? What lesson could I teach my daughter in this moment of a clash of wills? I told her that for every five minutes she didn't do as I'd told her to do, she'd have to spend another 10 minutes in her room. She sat. Finally I called my mom. She listened patiently to all I had to say. We considered options. We discussed Dr. Phil and some basic "WWDPD?" strategies. My father was listening in the background as the females tried to quell a rebellion. He got on the phone and said he'd come over with his belt. I'd lived through that. All that did for me was to make me equate love with violence, because of course - it was all done for my own good. Link the thoughts, trace the dots, look at the psycho-sexual development of a d/s-s/m personality unfolding. I want more for my daughter. I was told that I should review the Bible and see what it said about sparing the rod. I don't exactly believe the Bible word for word. Why? Because words are open to interpretation. I envision a rod as a pillar of strength and guidence. I do not embrace the notion of a rod as a lashing, slashing, whistling means to quell rebellions in the young. "Spare the rod, spoil the child".Thats right. Every child needs that pillar of strength and guidence, one that will show them how to interact with the world with their mind and not their fists. What good are fists? Ultimately even the conquerors know that you have to wind the broken around your steel sheathed fingers, and meld them to your mindset - not your swordplay.My father wished me well. He told me to call him and tell him how it all ended. I said I would.I walked out into the livingroom and stared at my daughter who was staring at me. "What good outcome do you think your behavior will result in?" I asked. She looked me in the eye and I had an epiphany. I saw inside her mind.She was the beautiful, free spirit that I'd raised her to be. I was going to be her pillar of strength and discipline - with love. I would not spare the rod. It was going to be my rod though. I smiled at her. With deep deep love and understanding. I put my hands upon her for the first time since the battle had been waged. With true love. And valid strength. She slid her arms around me while I drew her close and breathed in her clean innocence and warmth. I told her how much I loved her, and said, "Let me walk you up to your room." We hugged all the way to the place of natural and logical consequence of her actions. We laughed and smiled at each other. We LOVED each other every step of the way, and I didn't spare the rod, and I did not SPOIL the child the way violence does. We parted at her door, and I told her I'd call her in a hour when dinner was ready and she would be allowed to come back downstairs.And thats my epiphany for the day.

subject:
The Clicker
post date:
2007-04-12 10:44:48
views: 28 comments: 0 ratings: 0

A few months ago I purchased the most miraculous device. I recommend that EVERYBODY get one. Its a small plastic box with a thin piece of flexible metal in it that gives off a sharp "CLICK" when you press on it. I found it at the pet store. I was at the pet store because I needed dog food. My little girl was there with a goal of her own. She wanted a rat for her room. You may recall that I have an adorable rat named Miss Muppet who likes to hunt in my mouth for ratty treasures. I couldn't deny the appeal of another rat, but I could deny the purchase of one. It didn't go over very well. The emotional storm was brewing and I was determined to quell it before it could ruin my entire evening. Thats when I spotted the container of training clickers. I grabbed a clicker out of the box, whirled to face my mid-whine daughter and shot my hand out - "CLICK". She didn't smile, but damned if I didn't. "CLICK, CLICK, CLICK!" It was along the lines of Dr. Evil's "zippit" trick with his son. Every time a scowl seemed about to be added to with another whine I pushed my thumb down and - "CLICK!" And I laughed. She scowled, but quietly.I payed for my dog food and my clicker and off we went. When we went to Officemax instead of the Dollar Store I heard a whine. I reached in to my pocket, shot my hand back out and "CLICK!". The whine was replaced with a "Mom, STOP EMBARASSING ME!" Oh, the glory of the clicker!I'm going to bring it with me everywhere from now on. It may not get me the behaviors I want from others, but it sure does make me laugh while I'm failing.Try it.

subject:
First Dates and Fairy Tales
post date:
2007-04-12 10:55:06
views: 27 comments: 0 ratings: 0

(This relationship didn't last for my son - but this moment lives on in my storehouse of gleeful memories.)My 16 year old son went out on his first date tonight. I was ecstatic. What a priceless opportunity to pass on all the wisdom I'd gathered in my years of being the exact same gender he was now going to try and engage in some sort of social intercourse. I drove him to the meeting place. He was staring into the sideview mirror, checking his hair, his face, his teeth. I tried to break the silence of tension and nervousness. "You should tell her she looks nice, girls like that." He glared at me.I tried another conversational gambit. "So what was her name?" He stared at me flatly and answered, "I already told you." I wasn't going to be defeated this time. I started playing an updated teenage version of Rumplestiltskin. "Is her name Amy?" "NO", he looked slightly happier, glad to have his old mom at a loss."ummmm....Verouka?""No. In its shortened version it's a man's name." Apparently the possible ridiculous wasn't going to be a hit. I decided to just go for the totally ridiculous."Is it Dick?"He actually had to BITE HIS LIP to keep from smiling. "What female name do you know that has "Dick" in it?"I had to keep it civil. "DICKERELLA!" He had to get out of the car then, we'd arrived at ground Z (for ZOWIE, its LOVE).This is when my tale turns twisted and fairies begin to make an obvious appearance. Take a deep breath. Wiggle around in your chair a little and relax. Traditional fairy tales are best told to children or the young at heart. For this twisted tale I chose a male friend of mine with exquisite taste in music and a capacity to enjoy my aberrations. I'd been telling him about my adventure's to ground ZOWIE, and it turned in to this: Monica says:I could have answered any number of thingsMonica says:but I kept it to a civil "Dickerella"Monica says:she turns in to a dildo at midnightMonica says:course I didn't add that partN says:fuck! i so totally love the way your mind works!Monica says:and the lesbian princess goes throughout the land with the red velvet sack*Monica says:that Dickerella dropped upon tumbling down the stairway to her waiting Condom CoachMonica says:lolMonica says:see, this is an empowering woman themeMonica says:lesbians - WE DUN'T NEED NO FUCKIN' MEN, MANGMonica says:safe sex - Condom CoachesMonica says:female orgasm - DildosMonica says:The princess found Dickerella and they lived happily ever after - espcially after midnight. Never THE END, because life is one big "O", and the cycle continues.N says:back!Monica says:did you turn in to a dildo?*See the blog "Bottomless Women and Cups of Coffee for the proper reference of the "red sack".

subject:
Conifer and True Strawberry
post date:
2007-04-12 11:02:12
views: 25 comments: 0 ratings: 0

"True Strawberry" looked good on paper. On the wall it was in keeping with a french whore's beaudoir. C'est vrai. Even my spirit of bohemia couldn't tolerate the thought of that as the first thing my eyes saw as I entered the hallway, and the last thing I saw as I left the house.I took more inspiration from nature and went for "Conifer". This luscious rich green reminds me of the verdent forest that used to be my back yard before the new subdivision started going in. I can almost hear the call of the wild turkeys when I'm sitting on my throne in the halfbath off the hallway. Then I realize its my dog, Jack, and he's choking on something. I'm halfway through. I haven't had any major accidents on the floor, and I only have three tiny spots on the ceiling to return to white. I'm giving myself until next Wednesday to finish my project. In the middle of this painting project I added the "lawn" project. No more will my front yard be dirt and weeds. Now its smooth dirt and grass seed. There's just one problem. When I water it the ground is so loose that it turns to a shoe sucking mud. I can't seem to get the ground dry enough to apply a second layer of grass seed. My lawn is going to look like one of those "Hair Club for Men" ads where the guy was totally bald and is just as pleased as punch about the thin line of wispy hair that isn't fooling anybody but Mr. Vanity. I wonder if I could use the left over "Conifer" paint and spread it over the wispy strands of grass. Would my vanity be satisfied?I'll let you know.++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++(GOOD NEWS! I did actually finish the conifer project AND the lawn. Now if only I could find the focus to finish the last two foot strip of "Debutant" that wound up on the livingroom walls. I'm told by my young daughter that it looks like the color that plums are when left out in the cold too long. Is that good or bad?)++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

subject:
Breathing and Weaving...
post date:
2007-04-12 11:31:31
views: 25 comments: 0 ratings: 0

Enough speaking in tongues. Lets be clear with one another - you and me, we'll talk. We're friends, right? You're here because you care, you're curious, you want to know. I'm here because I want to tell. I want specifically YOU to know and understand. Sit down and let me weave a world around you. Gossamer webs criss crossing, taking on the hues of my mind, warmed by your breath. Keep breathing. The warmth keeps the webs flexible and pliant. More of a creative blanket than a constrictive shroud. Its your choice. Breath for me. I'll know when you're ready.

subject:
More "Pretend" crimes?
post date:
2007-05-09 22:32:36
views: 42 comments: 1 ratings: 0

Lets see... I can broach this hot topic on a couple different levels. First - I think Akon is extrodinarily energetic and in charge of the shadow sex. Thats erotic to me.SO SUE ME...On the other hand, its been only 50 short years since Elvis's hips were banned from swiveling on TV - just think what poor Ed would think about Akon. Whats the bottomline?Sexuality is a pulsing, pounding, money making industry. Look around, fellow fleshpots. Whats the main draw of cherry tap for the majority of the people? Is it the blogs of intellectual theories? Is it the pictures of superhero anime? Or is it the tits, ass, cock, and coochicoo poses?You know one reason I don't make looking at porn a habit is that I think it dulls my appetites. In order to get that punch of desire in my groin I'd have to move on to ever more bizarre, outrageous, and taboo sights. As it is - well hell, if you say the right combination of words I'll practically melt - much less giving me a showing of energy such as Akon displayed.I read a book once about women who sold their bodies in some arab nation. Because the women were so heavily veiled, the sight of a naked ankle was only slightly less erotic than a naked forarm!I don't have any moral hang ups. I love everybody and understand sexuality, which is why I wonder where its all going to lead.

subject:
The Elephants
post date:
2007-05-15 22:35:00
views: 56 comments: 2 ratings: 0

A few thoughts on the debate with all 10 republican candidates -Tommy Thompson has HUGE ears. Those suckers look like Mr. Potato Head ears. Maybe the make-up plyer should have considered dabbing some foundation on those babies. They GLOWED with luminous energy. Scary.Mit Romney said "PRECIPITOUSLY" - I liked that. Plus he sort of has Ronny Regan's hair doo. I like that too. He looks like Superman. Nice voice. Long fingers. mmm...Mike Huckabee's right eye is stuck looking to the right. And he's a REPUBLICAN. Oh, sweet irony. He looks alot like Kevin Spacey. I wonder if he has fantasies about teenage cheerleaders laying in rose petals?Mccain has gerbil cheeks. Lots of seeds in there.Brownback isn't gonna win - has a 17 year old daughter that drives like crap apparently. She ruins the milage on their hybrid car. His eyes look like the slit on the end of a penis. I have no idea why I have that image, beyond the fact that its true. I've gone eye to "eye" with at least three. *shrugs*Another guy that won't win looks like a ravaged, haired Jean Luc Picard and whines like a fishwife.Gilmore gets points for plugging his website - but loses them for reading from notes.Some other guy that won't win uses superfluous sentences like - "And I'm going to tell you why". Big fucking tease... JUST TELL US. We'll know when you're doing it!Ahhh... the old "do we torture" scenario. Enhanced interrogation! -Mccain says NO!Guilliani says YES!Romney avoids an answer! Oh, then he says MAYBE!Thompson says, - well his ears distracted me again and I forgot what he said...Hunter says YES! And gives a whole hour to those that will be doing the torture to get the information back to him.Gilmore is going to go ask the UN. And then he's going to just go off and not answer the question.I say Guilliani and Romney will be the front runners for the nomination. I have to go buy some peanuts...

subject:
Deliver Us from Evil
post date:
2007-05-20 19:18:31
views: 43 comments: 3 ratings: 0

I'm watching a documentary called "Deliver Us from Evil". It was an academy award nominee for 2006. Its so hard to watch. It makes me want to cry. And wound and maim. And destroy all organized religions that place one person in a position of authority and place others around him to protect him from the consequences of his evil actions.Its a movie about Father Oliver O'Grady, pedophile extrodinaire, evil doer, mother fucking hypocrite, protected good ol' boy from those who make their MONEY on the backs of people that want to go to heaven, and have yummy potluck dinners every once in awhile. The "higher ups" that were contacted by the female and male child victims of Fucking Father O'Grady tried to fill them with guilt for wanting "vengence" (their term) and told them GOD was in charge of that. They should just buck up, shut up, and GET OVER IT!Which brings to mind the conclusion of another organized religion faux pas I wrote about in the blog "What Am I Scribing?" A woman was "slain in the spirit" and fell to the ground under the blissful force of God fisting her right square in the soul spot. OHHHHHHH BABY! But wait - the highly trained professional crowd catching ushers didn't break her fall, and so she broke her head. She sued the church. The minister wrote to his "inner circle" and said she must have LOST HER FAITH. Because, ummmmmmmm... obviously if you stand up for your rights, and make those annointed by the power of the collection plate PAY for their mistakes, it MUST be because Ol' Scratch has been whispering in your ear. Who is a MAN to judge the realm of God? Oh, excuse me - Father Fuckhead forced his penis in the vagina of a baby. And he still has it attached to his body? Where's the JUSTICE?Anyway - the jury awarded the spirit slain, uncaught woman $350,000.00; some for physical injury, some for libel, some for slander. I wonder if there will be alot less falling about in that church now? So much pain to swallow. Hey, do you know how easy it is to obtain a Doctorate of Divinity certificate? Oh, and according to Reverend Sharpton, Mormon's aren't real christians. IMUS? Your serious thoughts? Sorrrrrrrry, you got Das Boot for disrespect. Amen.

subject:
Genesis of a Lady
post date:
2007-10-03 07:40:20
views: 48 comments: 0 ratings: 0

When this personna "died" (and I still am not sure what killed her - she trounced the shadow world and all that walked in it for years) I actually bought the domain name www.LadyChinasCrypt.com, so she'd have a place to rest in peace - or pieces. You probably would have wanted to kill her too...Genesis of a Lady (originally blogged at www.yserbius.org on October 9, 2005)It was Super Bowl Sunday, 1993. The Buffalo Bills versus the Dallas Cowboys. I was in love with a Sham. Shaman to be exact. Future husband of Cyren. Future destroyer of a part of me. I prefer to think of that destruction as an opportunity for other parts of me to thrive. Always the optimist, is me.I'd quickly discovered that I was attracted to certain names. A name in the tavern was almost like a glance in the coporeal world. You knew things about that person immediately, they might not be true - but certainly they weren't just accidental. Silk-n-Chain was a bold and sensuous woman, Ironfist was most certainly a fiesty male dwarf. Babble-On, with the epithet of +sinner+, was going to be a giddy woman/childlike type.I'd spent enough time observing the phenomenon of the name game to have a fairly accurate read on what type of bait to put on my hook. So I created "Lady China - fragile". And I sat in the Sword Swamp tavern that Super Bowl Sunday, and sure enough, here came my prey, biting at me. Shaman spent a good hour tossing out his own bait, until I said, "Oh, hold on - my mom's calling me!" And then he asked how old I was, and I told him "14." I was certainly an adult, for the record. Lady China was definately going to live a long and chaotic life after that birth.The name and character just sort of stuck as a favored toy of mine. Eventually she dropped the "fragile" from her epi. Jokes about being the Tupperware Lady and having a very tight seal were a favorite form of self-mockery. Her favorite form of attack was to appear so harmless that the beasts would ignore her until they were neck deep in a sticky pit she'd laid out for them.That was her birth. Super Bowl Sunday, 1993.I wrote the blog below a year ago. I literally sobbed as I did it. Today a book entitled "Amish Grace: How Forgiveness Transcended Tragedy" explores the phenomenom that touched me so powerfully a year ago. A question was asked of the person that observed the Amish and wrote the book:"What can Americans learn from the Amish understanding of forgiveness as it was expressed after the Nickel Mines shooting?"Answer: "...Even though forgiveness is a complicated and difficult thing, if we approach it with the support of other people - the Amish do everything in community, including their grieving - and if we don't feel like we have to have all the emotions sorted out before we extend compassion, the road to forgiveness is easier. Reaching out in compassion to others in the faith that the difficult emotional work will follow, I think, is one of the things that they demonstrate.In our world today, religion is so often used as a force for division, and here is an example of religion being used for compassion and healing..."Amen... (and so below are my thoughts on that child massacre and the amazing grace that the Amish extended.)October 10, 2006 - Tuesday 8:18 PM - Oh, the HUMANITY I watch the world with wonder. We all carry out our little lizard brain directives of feeding, fucking, fighting, and fleeing under the warmth of the same burning sun and the silvering of the same mysterious moon. Some of us rise above the atavistic impulses and bring the divine just a little closer into the world. Its all a matter of choice and free will. The milkman's baby daughter died 20 minutes after she was born. He was filled with rage and hatred towards a God that would let him suffer such a loss. Nine years later he went into an Amish schoolhouse and killed innocent little girls, then himself. Two of the girls offered their lives freely to sate his rage, hoping mercy would be shown to the others. In Columbine two boys took aim and killed classmates. One asked a girl cowering under a table, "Do you believe in God?" She answered, "Yes." She died. The boys killed themselves.Rage and pain filled the hearts of the people of Columbine. Pity and humanity filled the souls of others. Crosses were erected on a hilltop to stand silent witness to the souls lost. The crosses representing the boys that pulled the trigger were torn down.In the Amish farmlands more than half the attendees at a murderous man's funeral were the very people who had lost their innocent young girls. They reached out with love and compassion to the innocence left behind within the family of the murderer - his daughters and wife. Choices. Neither choice made in either horrific tragedy/scenario of victimization made a damn bit of difference to what had happened. Nobody miraculously rose from their coffin, renewed and revived. No further understanding into the incomprehensible motivations of the perpetrators was given in a booming message from the divine on high. I look at the choices made and I literally weep at the bitter sweet joy I feel when true forgiveness, love, mercy, and acceptance are shown. There's hope.

subject:
Clown Penis
post date:
2007-06-13 20:03:06
views: 43 comments: 1 ratings: 0

If you hear the sound of flopping while you read this blog entitled "Clown Penis", try to remember its just his shoes...I've stayed in an assortment of hotels on the Las Vegas strip. I've picked up the advertisements on the street that feature "Asian School Girls wearing Nun Clothes", "Black Beauties - Spurs Allowed!", "Sassy Cheerleaders Wanting An F" - and all of them had stars at groin and nipple. I guess that's how a woman can tell if she should pursue a career in any of the above categories. Just look for the glinting points.I was more entranced with the amateur efforts of some male graffitti vandal. I say it was a male, because of the delusional proportions given to the surprise "package". I first glimpsed the clown's penis behind the head of an elderly woman. A small step to the left and Slappy - with his big red...nose, and his hand held...horn - was revealed in full clown regalia. The freehand addition of an orange sized testicle x2, and a 12 inch dick straining upwards to his red painted grin made the happy, family-friendly, Circus Circus elevator poster (HUGE BUFFET) delightfully twisted. I tried to turn a laugh into a cough. I had no idea how far up the elevator shaft the elderly woman and I would have to go together, and I couldn't help but assume she wouldn't find Slappy's enhancements as amusing as I did. Or maybe I just liked her being unaware of the visual I had of a big red grin with a straining penis rising up from above her careful perm. I rushed out of the elevator when it arrived at my floor and practically danced to the phone. I dialed the front desk."Front Desk, may I help you?"(stifled giggles) "Yes, The clown on the poster in your elevator has an erect penis.""Excuse me?"(forcing a tone of solemnity) The advertisement in your elevator has been modified. A penis and testicles have been added to the clown. I thought you might want to remove it.""Oh...well, Thank you."And then for the next two days I rode up and down the Circus Circus elevator (north tower, middle one, as I recall) - with Slappy and his eager surprise package intact. I danced to the phone again."Front Desk, may I help you?"(a breath and a smirk of glee) "Yes, a few days ago I called about the penis on the clown in your elevator.""Pardon me?"(Tone of the eager helper) "There is a very large penis and testicles drawn on the clown in the middle elevator of the north tower. Its sort of contrary to your family-friendly advertising. I thought you might want to remove it.""Oh, thank you! I'll call maintenance right away!"I considered what kind of comps I could get for the scarring I must obviously have endured from spending days in the company of a clown penis, but I'd already been upgraded to a suite with an orgy sized jacuzzi tub. I let the conversation end with an unanswerable comment."It was pretty funny..."True story. I suppose now that Las Vegas has gone back to being Sin City, Slappy the clown has been replaced by a topless female version - Floppy. Oh well, its a man's world.

subject:
Darwin?
post date:
2007-06-16 20:59:49
views: 20 comments: 0 ratings: 0

idocracy preview from monkeydoodle on VimeoOne word - WHOOPIE CUSHION COUCH!!Yes, that is what the world needs. There is hardly anything guaranteed to amuse me over and over and over again like a whoopie cushion and its delightful expulsions of flatulantish bbbbbbbrrrrrrrrrfffffffffftttttttttttt, and ppppppprrrrrrrrrbbbbbb, and don't forget FFFFGGGGhhhh. Make the noises - you WILL giggle.So the whoopie cushion couch would have an air circulation system built in to it so that, after sitting down on it, hearing the bbbbbbbrrrrrfffttt, the pppppprrrrrrrrrbbbbbb, or the FFFFFGGGGGGhhhh, jumping up in horror, and looking around to see if anybody else was near, and then acknowleding that "THATS FUNNY!" -it would be reinflated and ready for your next hard flop down - which would occur immediately. (please, no applause for my amazing single sentence paragraph. But if you can say it on one breath inhalation - I will applaud you!)

subject:
Odds N Ends
post date:
2007-06-17 19:29:15
views: 35 comments: 1 ratings: 0

**************************Odd N Ends behind the Wall:My husband says he'd take me to see Evanescence in concert but he's afraid we'd feel compelled to cut ourselves. I love Amy Lee's voice. It is a siren's call to crash - and yes - cut one's self, upon the rocks of life. My undead Warlock, Mouninglory, in World of Warcraft, has the most perfect imp. His name is Gobyap. He started out his service to Mourninglory by snarling, "THIS WASN'T IN MY CONTRACT!" when asked to fireball some Scarlett Crusaders. And still he skipped forward and did as he was told. I like that in an imp.The following is an example of how bad timing and slow typing (or fast typing), can really make a scenario go wrong (The name of one has been changed, just because it amuses me):"TheManWithPoorTiming" says:hewwoSylara says:hewwo, how awe ewe? awe we bewing elmew fudd?"TheManWithPoorTiming" says:noSylara says:wascally wabbits make me wabid!Sylara says:oh...Sylara says:well pooh"TheManWithPoorTiming" says:it's kind of wike baby talk.Sylara says:eeweeeSylara says:awe we gonna be babies?Sylara says:*sucks her thumb*"TheManWithPoorTiming" says:heheheSylara says:*shits her pants*"TheManWithPoorTiming" says:that's hot **************************************

subject:
Gang Signs
post date:
2007-06-24 22:25:47
views: 39 comments: 0 ratings: 0

Today I started feeling a little better, and this led to an explosion of pent up energy. Did I clean the house? HELL no! Did I do the laundry? HELL no! Did I make a delicious, nutritious dinner??? HELL NO!I thought about gang signs. It all started yesterday when I was feeling ill and was looking at depressing stories on the internet during the 20 minutes I managed to crawl from bed. The first thing I saw was some police officer in custody after the body of his nine months pregnant (with a daughter) girlfriend was found. Investigators' first clues came from his two year old son - also the son of the missing pregnant woman. "Mommy broke table, mommy hurt, mommy in rug." Then I read about a 13 year old boy that was given a suspension at school for hugging. The school administrator said that it was because they have a culturally diverse student population and the NO TOUCHING rule was to prevent gang signs in the form of a handshake to be exchanged.This led to me thinking about what gang I could belong to. I suppose I'm a European American. This being the case I think that my gang sign should be the slow, regal, side to side, cheek level (face not ass) wave of the Queen of the Britains. "HELP! HELP! I'm being OPPRESSED!"So while I was busy thinking through this entire FILE,subfile, subfile subsection process. I thought of the Wizard of Oz. "If I were the King of the FOREST, not Prince, not Duke, Not QUEEN." - and right when I thought of the cowardly lion, I saw a woman getting in to her car at the grocery store (by this time I had regained enough energy to go shopping) and her head was a perfect lion's mane.RAWR!The MadTV clip below is from the genre of SATIRE:1. the use of irony, sarcasm, ridicule, or the like, in exposing, denouncing, or deriding vice, folly, etc. 2. a literary composition, in verse or prose, in which human folly and vice are held up to scorn, derision, or ridicule. Do you understand? This is where we laugh at all the stereotypes we use instead of dealing with people on an individual basis and where we take pride in how far we've come. Oh, but there's so much farther to go.Besides, it sort of fit in with gang signs, the Queen of England (HELP, HELP, I'M BEING OPPRESSED), and If I were the King of the Forest.Don't bother to click it on if you're offended by racial stereotypes - including the one where white women are the powerless love toys of black men.

subject:
Pleroma
post date:
2007-06-28 21:01:13
views: 22 comments: 0 ratings: 0

When I'm not dancing the line of vulgarity, innuendo, and childishness, I'm swimming in the ocean of the Eternal. The latest island I've washed up on contains these words:"...The dead came back from Jerusalem where they found not what they sought. They prayed me let them in and besought my word, and thus I began my teaching.Harken: I begin with nothingness. Nothingness is the same as fullness. In infinity full is no better than empty. Nothingness is both empty and full. As well might ye say anything else of nothingness, as for instance, white it is, or black, or again it is not, or it is. A thing that is infinite and eternal hath no qualities, since it hath all qualities.This nothingness or fullness we name the pleroma..."This is from the first of Carl Jung's "Seven Sermon's of the Dead". Jungian psychology is the school of thought that I find the most satisfying. Its full of imagery and connectivity. Shadows and Persona. Anima and Animus. And now another name for God? Pleroma. And why not?

subject:
Do NOT
post date:
2007-07-14 22:23:49
views: 14 comments: 0 ratings: 0

There's an entire world of horror to be appalled by. Here's a few choice topics:1. Hate crimes based upon:Racism - belief or doctrine that differences in physical appearance between people (such as those upon which the concept of race is based) determine cultural or individual achievement, and usually involve the idea that one's own 'race' is superior.Homophobia - fear of, aversion to, or discrimination against homosexuality or homosexuals.Sexism - discrimination and/or hatred against people based on their sex rather than their individual merits.Ageism - stereotyping and prejudice against individuals or groups because of their age.Religious intolerance - intolerance motivated by one's own religious beliefs or intolerance against another's religious beliefs or practices. 2. Crimes against children:In a recent year long survey done by Ph.Ds from the university of New Hampshire and the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill the following statistics were gathered:More than half of the children (ages 2 to 17) involved in the study experienced a physical assault during the study year.More than 1 in 4 a property offense.More than 1 in 8 a form of child maltreatment.1 in 12 a sexual victimization.More than 1 in 3 had been a witness to some form of violence or experienced another form of indirect victimization.....Should you ever decide that I'm interested in hearing your horror at the size of women's pubic hair that you've witnessed in a professional and/or laymans' capacity - THINK AGAIN. Review any of the above topics for something to be concerned about.Go away, far away, stay away from me. Bleak idiots. Desolate nothings. Evil spiders. Stupid monkeys. The good news is, that hardly ever happens - just the one time so far. It shouldn't happen again.

subject:
Humanitarian Efforts
post date:
2007-07-20 22:50:21
views: 9 comments: 0 ratings: 0

I'm never going to do as much as I'd like to. I'm never going to take away the pain. Its an impossible task. But maybe, if I give one moment of surcease, that will be the moment that somebody will look back on and hold on to.So this is the story of 666. Some people are sensative to it. I used to be. I'm not anymore. I fully acknowledge the forces of emptiness and their need to feed. Its not scary, its just part of life. I had it in my power today to take that number out of a person's life. It cost me a bit of my own money, but who am I to step back from an easy fix? People want so much to be in control. How can you be in control if you can't identify the enemy? How soothing is it to find a mere number to fear? I fear for my friend. My very best friend. Doctors don't know whats wrong with her. There is no number to cower from. There's only pathology and testing. I'm sure an excellent mathmatician would be able to boil down all the presenting symptoms and findings and offer a number.I reached out in my fear. I'm not sorry I did. The result doesn't matter. I had enough faith in people to at least try. I don't have a number to shrink from. I'd feel so much more powerful if I did. But there are things to be learned from helplessness. Patience, faith, hope.

subject:
Stimulation Simulation
post date:
2007-07-22 18:09:56
views: 19 comments: 1 ratings: 0

I played Goddess today. I created the Goody family. Ima and Hesa. I carefully studied their needs and wants. Their strengths and weaknesses.I trapped them in a bathroom for five hours while they flirted, hugged, appreciated, tickled, and made out with each other. Then I led them to a large bed and demanded that they relax on it, next to each other.Then.... "WHOOHOO". Yes, I told them both to "WHOOHOO" each other. Nothing happened.I had Hesa Goody get up from the bed and then relax back down on it. "WHOOHOO", I commanded. "WHOOHOO!" Nuthin...Then I ran my Goddess detector over Ima's thoughts. Oh, there it was. The silly bitch was "daydreaming". The "WHOOHOO" wouldn't occur until she managed to pull her mind off her mental Hesa, and started paying attention to the Hesa in bed beside her. No problem.I made a Goddess command decision. I put a large "X" through Ima's daydreaming. Wow...They both disappeared beneath the sheets. The bed literally rocked from side to side. Shouting, giggling, much ado about something was transpiring under the rolling sheets. Eventually a sparkling dust fell down on them, they appeared again. Laying cheek to cheek on the pillows. Smiling.Hesa got up and went to take a bubble bath. He'd earned it. Ima got up and whipped up some spaghetti for two. A good carb load, they needed to regain their energy.I watched them eat, a secret smile on my Goddess mouth; then I ran my Goddess detector over Hesa's thoughts and aspirations.Turns out he really really really wanted to "WHOOHOO" again. With three different people.Well... I may build a swimming pool, without a ladder out. Hesa is a great swimmer. For awhile.*whistles*

subject:
COOKIE NAZI - Sig Heil !
post date:
2007-07-22 20:48:06
views: 13 comments: 0 ratings: 0

I have a roof over my head, food in my refrigerator, gas in my car - and $17.00 to last me until Friday. Obviously I'm going to chose to spend 50% of my hoarded cash on my quest to bring a moment of comfort to people one piece of a candy at a time. It makes me feel like I'm doing something to "Be the change you wish to see in the world" - like Ghandi said. Then there's people that should never be given a customer service job. Have you ever heard of Walmart? How about Sams Club - the uber Walmart where you pay money to be a member? Yes? That was where I chose to take my meager wad of cash and desire to heal through the magic of sugar. My little girl came with me.We entered the store were I pay money to be a member. We walked towards the means to my humanitarian goals. On the way to the candy aisle, there was a sample table set up with little broken up pieces of cookies on five seperate plates:Sugar CookieChocolate Chip CookieOatmeal Raisin CookieMacadamia Nut CookiePeanut Butter Cookie My little girl said she was going to try each kind. I said I would too. All of a sudden the surge of kinetic energy coming through the hair net of the Sample Nazi hit me in the ears."You're not supposed to try EVERY KIND! SIG HEIL, SIG HEIL, SIG HEIL!" Ya volt? Huh...You know sometimes I'm really slow, and sometimes my brain multiples, subtracts, divides, and extrapolates at incomprehensible speeds. This was one of the latter moments. In a fraction of a second I came up with this equation:Membership dues PLUS A small wedge of multiple cookie varieties MINUS people that totally miss the intent of having a sample table DIVIDED BY (to entice people to buy what they might not have otherwise, or to create a memory of the product that will lure them back to said product at a future date) MINUS the mentality of a COOKIE NAZI = Me saying, "Would you like to check with your manager? No, hold on, I will go SPEAK to your manager and resolve this mysterious MULTIPLE VARIETY SAMPLES BUT TAKE ONLY ONE KIND BECAUSE DEAR GOD SAM'S CLUB CAN'T AFFORD TO TRY TO LURE ME TO BUY THE EXOTIC MACADAMIA NUT COOKIE IF I CHOSE THE MUNDANE CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE FIRST!" I said part of that in my head as further extrapolation occurred. My daughter reverted to the culture of childhood and hissed - "MOM! Don't be a tattletell!", but nope, if anybody is going to put limitations on anything I do, it better damn well make sense in the job description they're tasked to carry out.Perhaps she'd be more comfortable as a Loss Prevention employee. Achtung!Please don't be stupid. It gives me a headache.

subject:
Miss Muppet's Legacy
post date:
2007-07-23 17:49:39
views: 10 comments: 0 ratings: 0

I couldn't bear to watch Miss Muppet suffer anymore. I was on my way to the vet's office to have her euthanized. My husband drove, while I sobbed. Miss Muppet heaved on my chest. She urniated one last time, and just as it stopped trickling down between my breasts, she convulsed, flipped over, and died.I stopped crying then. She was at peace.We buried her in the back yard a few minutes ago, and my little girl made a very nice tombstone for her. Miss Muppet was the only female rat in a cage full of male rats. It just seemed so wrong. I bought her and her sweet personality and cuddly nature was irresistable. It turns out her time with all the males left her pregnant. The only time she ever bit was after she had her babies and tried to protect them.She mastered the art of escaping her cage. Then she decided she was going to be a house rat. She would wander freely, just like the dogs and the cats. Moondance is a video I made just a few days ago, after being greeted by Miss Muppet at the door with all the other animals. She taught me a few things: determination, integration, and expectation. She had the expectation that she would find comfort when she was ill, within the hands of her family. We didn't let her down. She died in my hands, being stroked.

subject:
The C.O.G.
post date:
2007-07-26 20:08:37
views: 26 comments: 1 ratings: 0

Yea! Who Wants to be a Superhero, part deux.I really liked Homeless Man. Stan didn't like him enough. OH WELL.Still waiting on my personal superhero - The Child Of God aka The C.O.G.All the world religions and deities would be part of The C.O.G.'s powerbase. Even the dead ones. Old manifestations of God go somewhere. The only thing they lack is worshippers. The C.O.G. would access:(Now for fun, I'm just going to see what pops out at me, just words with a God link. Then I'll see what they reference.)Asura - Holika - The burning of Holika is the most common mythological explanation for the celebration of Holi. In different parts of India varying reasons are given for Holika's death. Among those are:Vishnu stepped in and hence Holika burnt, Holika was given the power by Brahma on the understanding that it can never be used to bring harm to anyone, Holika was a good person and it was the clothes that she wore that gave her the power and knowing that what was happening was wrong, she gave them to Prahlad and hence died herself. ASGARD - Aesir - The collective name for the the principal race of Norse gods; they who lived in Asgard, and with the All-Father Odin, ruled the lives of mortal men, the other was the Vanir. The Aesir gods under the leadership of Odin, included Balder (god of beauty), Bragi (god of eloquence), Forseti (god of mediation), Freyr (god of fertility, who originally was from the Vanir), Heimdall (guardian of the bridge), Hod (the blind god), Loki (god of fire and ally of the frost giants), Njord (the sea god, and another ex-Vanir), Thor (god of thunder), Tyr (god of war), Vili (brother to Odin), Ve (brother to Odin), and Vidar (Odin's son). The goddesses included Freya (the fertility goddess), Frigg (Odin's wife), Sif (Thor's wife), and Idun (keeper of the apples of youth). Pwyll- Pwyll, lord of Dyfed, encountered while hunting a strange pack of hounds, pure white except for their red ears. Beating them off their prey, he set his own pack upon them, an act for which he was chided by their owner, who turned out to be Arawn, King of Annwn (the Underworld). Arawn laid upon Pwyll the following penance: he would live in Arawn's place, disguised, for a year and a day, while Arawn lived in his place in Dyfed. At the end of the time, he would do battle with Arawn's enemy, Hafgan, and defeat him, for only a mortal man could so do.Thyatira - This church is the only one that is commended for an improvement in spiritual things, yet tolerated Jezebel.The C.O.G.:A colorfully dressed woman in a shawl, with a pack of dogs - white with red ears. Who lives under a bridge and withstands all sorts of weather, or perhaps can control it. Well, it sounds like a woman after Homeless Man's heart, and eager to help the hearts of all.Yep... Home is where the heart is. Does Homeless Man lack a heart?
Calm down And get straight It's not our eyesIt's how we operate You're true You are I'd apologize but it won't go very far Please come here Come right on over And when we collide we'll see what gets left over A little joy A little sorrow And a little pride so we won't have to borrow Wherever you lead, I'll follow Turn me inside out and upside down And try to see things my way Turn a new page, tear the old one out And I'll try to see things your way Please come here Please come on over There is no line that you can't step right over Without you well I'm left hollow So can we decide to try a little joy tomorrow 'Cos baby tonight I'll follow Turn me inside out and upside down And try to see things my way Turn a new page, tear the old one out And I'll try to see things your way The way that we've been speaking now I swear that we'd be friends, I swear 'Cos all these little deals go down with Little consequences, we share, we share Turn me inside out and upside down And try to see things my way Turn a new page, tear the old one out And I'll try to see things your way And I'm gonna love you anyway Try to see things your way Try to see things your way Try to see things your way

subject:
I have a headache
post date:
2007-08-01 08:07:11
views: 5 comments: 0 ratings: 0

The little rat purchased to keep Jill, the rat girlfriend of Jak the neurotic dog, company - died in my little girl's hands this morning. It was less tramatic than Miss Muppet. We'd only known him a few days.Then after checking on the baby sparrow that shared the nest of the baby zebra finches, the matriarch of the Finch Family was found. In the food bowl. Dead. Wanda was quite old for a finch, I'm sure. She certainly did her part to populate the world as she knew it.Jill is going to remain a solitary inhabitant of her ratty house, for awhile. Wanda's managed to replicate herself multiple times.That's life.