ok so everyone has put in their two cents regarding our poor and precious KStew - and now it's my turn. this really is more about the act of "fucking up" than just about Kristen - but i love me some K so I wanted to let her know "Baby it's ok - i forgive you!"
so KStew apparently made a comment about how seeing the invasive pictures the papz take of her makes her think about how someone feels being raped (please don't quote me on that comment because i don't know it word-for-word, but you get the gist).
anyway - so of course everyone was in a huff about it and all bashing Kristen about how insensitive she is and blah blah blah.
1 - here's the thing people - everyone fucks up at some point - so get the hell over it.
2 - believe it or not, there is a verbal filter that usually takes place from the time our brain starts to think and the time that thought leaves our mouth. and sometimes - that filter doesn't do a good job.
what happens in our brains will never make sense to anyone else. there are a billion freaking things jumping around in there like little fleas on crack. somehow - if we plan on communicating with someone else, we've got to manage to get those damn fleas to settle down and form something that makes sense. well this isn't always easily done.
sometimes - we can't find the proper words to express what our little flea thoughts are trying to convey to the listener. so when someone asks us a question and we're trying to answer it, we grasp at all the billions of little jumping fleas on crack thoughts and make them into something understandable. believe it or not, sometimes there just aren't words to express what we feel, so we take the closest things we can think of and spit them out.
oh so sad but oh so true.
Little KStew was not trying to minimize the tragedy of rape - she wasn't trying to say that rape victims feel nothing but like their picture is being taken - what I think she was trying to say is.... ahhh see - i can't tell you what she was trying to say because i have no right to interpret her thoughts. nobody does.
just like right now - i'm trying to tell you how i feel, and you may or may not get it - but you have no right to judge me - you could say that because i refuse to capitalize a sentence means that i have limited education and i'm probably mentally challenged - truth is, i have to capitalize freaking sentences every damn day and make sure my punctuation is accurate, etc. so when i get home - i don't fucking care if the i's are dotted or the t's are crossed. does it really hurt anyone?
so basically what i'm saying is get the fuck over yourself and leave Kristen Steward alone.
:)
Friday, June 4, 2010
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
I Only Want The Good Stuff!
Ok – here’s just a little food for thought – please don’t send me crap saying I’m going to hell because of this –
Anyway – so I was joking with some girlfriends last night about this “troller” we saw sitting at the bar trying to pick up women. Actually he picked up a few right away and they were buying him drinks. I enjoyed their performance myself. The way he’d laugh at their jokes, the way they’d give him a subtle rub on the arm or leg. The way he’d brush his hair out of his eye. It was comical on many desperate levels. It was like they were working through scenes of “How to Pick Up a Bar Whore 101”.
So that led to more jokes upon jokes and I busted out with “Hell I’m about ready to pay for it myself just so I can get some.” Ok well that was pretty much a joke. But then…. Tick tock tick tock… I started thinking about it. I was going to add on to that, “well depends on who it was with and what kind of discount I got” but I decided to leave it alone. But let’s be serious. I don’t pick up guys in a bar – for many reasons, some of which I would hope are obvious ones. I mean yes, if I really wanted sex, I could probably go find some relatively easily. Granted my choices are much slimmer now than they were in my glory days, but whatever. Soooo then that got me thinking, hell if really just wanted sex, it would totally make sense to pay for it. I mean if the “sex” is the thing I’m after, it means I don’t have to worry about some schmucks personality or what he does for a living, or mental health for that matter. What I really need is someone who knows what the hell they were doing, and who would better know than a professional!!!
Am I right??? Seriously – if I’m going to get one good screw, why would I waste it on some guy who is probably drunk and could be like the one-minute-man!?!? Maybe he’s lacking in size or girth. I mean if I’m getting a one shot sex deal, why waste it? I’d be smart to put my one shot to good use. Make sure I get my money’s worth right! Hell, I wanna guy that can last longer than me and maybe even do some damn tricks!!! Who would I want… Tweedle-Dee over Tweedle-DAMN!
So – in reality – I’m probably not going to be paying for sex any time soon – but I just thought that I posed an interesting question and wondered if anyone else had something to add to my very one sided conversation!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Why FanFic is Full of Shit
ok - i haven't been on in a long ass time - mostly because everytime i have something to say, i'm nowhere near a computer! then by the time i get home - yadda yadda yadda it's all gone!
so anyway i've been addicted to this fanfic thing for a few months now. the claim is that people can post stories on there - etc etc - well like recently fanfic started yanking the good juicy stories - the ones with lots of sexy in them! well what the hell? now - here is my point of debate. they can say they pulled them for excessive sex whatever - but these aren't "new" stories - we're talking stories that have like 50+ - 60+ chapters to them. if it were true that they were concerned about the sex scenes wouldn't they have discovered those in the first 20 chapters?? They let a fucking complete piece of material be pulled - hello it was complete!?! you're such fucking idiots - ok the very first line in their "guidelines" says - "fanfixxx does not filter content and is an open system that trusts the writer's judgement" - well in fine print it says that they don't accept MA content. well isn't that filtering? whatever - i'm just very pissed that they'd let a story go on for so long and then decide to pull it - that doesn't make a bit of sense. if you want to have a "teen" only site, then make one - but don't act like anyone can post anything and then pull it. and it's not like this is something that all the sudden a few people want to do - 99% of the stories i read have major lemons - that's why i read them - so it's not like there are one or two bad apples trying to spoil the bunch.
so whatever - fanfic is a bullshit site and i just think it's stupid as hell so there!
so anyway i've been addicted to this fanfic thing for a few months now. the claim is that people can post stories on there - etc etc - well like recently fanfic started yanking the good juicy stories - the ones with lots of sexy in them! well what the hell? now - here is my point of debate. they can say they pulled them for excessive sex whatever - but these aren't "new" stories - we're talking stories that have like 50+ - 60+ chapters to them. if it were true that they were concerned about the sex scenes wouldn't they have discovered those in the first 20 chapters?? They let a fucking complete piece of material be pulled - hello it was complete!?! you're such fucking idiots - ok the very first line in their "guidelines" says - "fanfixxx does not filter content and is an open system that trusts the writer's judgement" - well in fine print it says that they don't accept MA content. well isn't that filtering? whatever - i'm just very pissed that they'd let a story go on for so long and then decide to pull it - that doesn't make a bit of sense. if you want to have a "teen" only site, then make one - but don't act like anyone can post anything and then pull it. and it's not like this is something that all the sudden a few people want to do - 99% of the stories i read have major lemons - that's why i read them - so it's not like there are one or two bad apples trying to spoil the bunch.
so whatever - fanfic is a bullshit site and i just think it's stupid as hell so there!
Monday, October 5, 2009
I left that box on the corner three blocks back...
I lived inside a box. It was a perfectly square box. I left that box behind today.
I walked on a straight path. One focus, one direction, no variations. I walked along that path every day. Now I’m running through a meadow, aimlessly, no direction, no ending. Completely free. Nothing to hold me or confine me or define me.
Free.
For most of my life I wanted to fit in. I knew I didn’t think the same as everyone else. I didn’t feel normal. My main goal in life was to blend. I shuddered at the thought of calling attention to myself. If I was asked a question in class, even if I knew the answer, I still wouldn’t raise my hand. I didn’t want all eyes on me. Because I knew I was strange, and I was afraid that if anyone looked too closely, they’d notice it too.
Tragedy can bring change in your life. Changes that you never planned on or prepared for. When you encounter a change, you can either open your eyes for the first time, or close them forever. You can see everything you’ve been given and everything there is to give. I had the perfect picture of how I wanted my life to be. The mold of the perfect family, the perfect life, the perfect child. I realize now that I don’t want to be “perfect”. Perfection is boring. There is no room to add to that, to shake it up. If you set your mind to be pink paint, then you’ll only be pink paint, nothing else. When you don’t limit yourself to one color, then you can add blues and greens and yellows, constantly blending new things in your paint and being thrilled at each new color you find. The options are endless.
I’m discovering now that I like all the imperfections about myself. I find now that I’m very irritated when people like the same things that I do. I don’t want to fit in.
We start out as little children, our minds are free and innocent. We actually USE our imaginations, and it’s encouraged by the others around us. But as we get older, society starts to box us in. We have to “color inside the lines”. Our creativity and imaginations are stifled. Our childhood dreams of becoming a musician or a circus clown are stomped on. That fire inside us is all but extinguished. Please don’t misinterpret what I’m saying as to mean everyone should live in a fantasy world. What I’m saying is, we all have dreams, and as adults we’re made to believe that we can’t have what we dream of. That we can’t be who we really want to be. That anything outside of what society says is normal, is abnormal.
I’ve come to a crossroads in my life. I’ve realized that I don’t want to reach the end of my life and never have accomplished anything. I don’t want to die knowing that the most exciting thing I did was stay out late on a Saturday night or take a different route to work in the morning (I have actually done things slightly more exciting). I want to live a life that’s full and satisfying. I’ve been so worried that I wasn’t “good” at anything. That there was nothing that I could say was my “talent”. Now I know I don’t need to be good at any one thing. As long as I try and experience, that’s all that matters. If I want to learn Spanish and I really suck at it, at least I’ve tried and have that as another notch on my belt. If I want to go hike through the Amazon, and I actually survive it, then that’s going to make a great story for my grandkids one day. When I’m old – I want a story to tell. I want to have lived.
Here is a quote to live by:
Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body,But rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, wine in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"
I walked on a straight path. One focus, one direction, no variations. I walked along that path every day. Now I’m running through a meadow, aimlessly, no direction, no ending. Completely free. Nothing to hold me or confine me or define me.
Free.
For most of my life I wanted to fit in. I knew I didn’t think the same as everyone else. I didn’t feel normal. My main goal in life was to blend. I shuddered at the thought of calling attention to myself. If I was asked a question in class, even if I knew the answer, I still wouldn’t raise my hand. I didn’t want all eyes on me. Because I knew I was strange, and I was afraid that if anyone looked too closely, they’d notice it too.
Tragedy can bring change in your life. Changes that you never planned on or prepared for. When you encounter a change, you can either open your eyes for the first time, or close them forever. You can see everything you’ve been given and everything there is to give. I had the perfect picture of how I wanted my life to be. The mold of the perfect family, the perfect life, the perfect child. I realize now that I don’t want to be “perfect”. Perfection is boring. There is no room to add to that, to shake it up. If you set your mind to be pink paint, then you’ll only be pink paint, nothing else. When you don’t limit yourself to one color, then you can add blues and greens and yellows, constantly blending new things in your paint and being thrilled at each new color you find. The options are endless.
I’m discovering now that I like all the imperfections about myself. I find now that I’m very irritated when people like the same things that I do. I don’t want to fit in.
We start out as little children, our minds are free and innocent. We actually USE our imaginations, and it’s encouraged by the others around us. But as we get older, society starts to box us in. We have to “color inside the lines”. Our creativity and imaginations are stifled. Our childhood dreams of becoming a musician or a circus clown are stomped on. That fire inside us is all but extinguished. Please don’t misinterpret what I’m saying as to mean everyone should live in a fantasy world. What I’m saying is, we all have dreams, and as adults we’re made to believe that we can’t have what we dream of. That we can’t be who we really want to be. That anything outside of what society says is normal, is abnormal.
I’ve come to a crossroads in my life. I’ve realized that I don’t want to reach the end of my life and never have accomplished anything. I don’t want to die knowing that the most exciting thing I did was stay out late on a Saturday night or take a different route to work in the morning (I have actually done things slightly more exciting). I want to live a life that’s full and satisfying. I’ve been so worried that I wasn’t “good” at anything. That there was nothing that I could say was my “talent”. Now I know I don’t need to be good at any one thing. As long as I try and experience, that’s all that matters. If I want to learn Spanish and I really suck at it, at least I’ve tried and have that as another notch on my belt. If I want to go hike through the Amazon, and I actually survive it, then that’s going to make a great story for my grandkids one day. When I’m old – I want a story to tell. I want to have lived.
Here is a quote to live by:
Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body,But rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, wine in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Music Makes the World a Square
Wow! Even though I’ve blogged before, this is my first “official” blog on my own page. I’m so excited about it.
I thought for my first one, I’d write on something that’s been in my head recently. It’s my love of music. I’m not sure why, but for some reason I put a lot of thought into this subject. Possibly because I came across an artist who really made my heart thump with the sound of his voice. Whatever the reason, I’ve been stuck on music and how it effects the world I live in.
Music is in everything we do. It’s almost as if we revolve around it. When you’re put on hold, music plays. It plays in the elevator. It’s in TV and movies. Just about everything seems to have a “theme song”. We pick special music out when we get married, and someone picks it out for us when we die. There are so many songs that have touched me at different times. I can listen to something and instantly be transported back to the time and place I first heard it play. As much as I love music, you’d think I would play an instrument or something. But it seems like what’s in my head can’t find its way out of my body.
Listening to my iPod recently, I was thinking how funny it is that there are songs that make me want to drive faster, get drunk, have sex, or hell, even get high (and I don’t get high period, but there are songs that make me feel like I should be). I know it’s weird, right? It’s also funny how music differs in each genre. Country music pretty much tells a complete story from beginning to end. There’s seldom room left for interpretation. Rap music doesn’t always make sense, but it usually rhymes. One big group of words mashed up, all sounding alike. Rock music can go either way, as long as it’s loud. Then there are artists that I can’t categorize. They make the sweetest sounds, and you are really touched by what they say and specific emotions are evoked in you. But when you sit down and read the words, they don’t make a damn bit of sense. For example, KOL (one of my favorites right now), have several songs that make no sense at all, but they all make me feel something. And even weirder, the songs that make me feel the most passion, make the least sense when I read the lyrics.
Remember that there is a huge difference between a musician and an entertainer. And they do not equal each other. When you look at the artists that exist outside the cookie cutter mold the industry makes, you can find some really unique souls. People that really feel what they sing about and really have a message to convey. My most favorite voice in the world sings several songs that literally break my heart, but I can’t stop myself from listening to him (BL you know who you are). I could hear him sing anything and be happy. His voice is so pure and deep to me, that it literally makes me blush. I can really understand why musicians have so many groupies. Everyone falls in love with the band, right? Because how could someone who makes you feel so much with their music, not be someone you’d want? It’s sad really. I suppose it’s dangerous too, because these things can easily get out of control. Isn’t there a saying like “sex-drugs-and rock-n-roll”? But that’s our world, isn’t it? Living in the moment.
Anyway - I guess I’m trying to say that I love music. I don’t think we could live in a world where music didn’t exist? I’m about to put on some tunes now. Although I want to listen to jazz, I’m feeling more rock today.
Hope you have a fabulous, music filled day.
I thought for my first one, I’d write on something that’s been in my head recently. It’s my love of music. I’m not sure why, but for some reason I put a lot of thought into this subject. Possibly because I came across an artist who really made my heart thump with the sound of his voice. Whatever the reason, I’ve been stuck on music and how it effects the world I live in.
Music is in everything we do. It’s almost as if we revolve around it. When you’re put on hold, music plays. It plays in the elevator. It’s in TV and movies. Just about everything seems to have a “theme song”. We pick special music out when we get married, and someone picks it out for us when we die. There are so many songs that have touched me at different times. I can listen to something and instantly be transported back to the time and place I first heard it play. As much as I love music, you’d think I would play an instrument or something. But it seems like what’s in my head can’t find its way out of my body.
Listening to my iPod recently, I was thinking how funny it is that there are songs that make me want to drive faster, get drunk, have sex, or hell, even get high (and I don’t get high period, but there are songs that make me feel like I should be). I know it’s weird, right? It’s also funny how music differs in each genre. Country music pretty much tells a complete story from beginning to end. There’s seldom room left for interpretation. Rap music doesn’t always make sense, but it usually rhymes. One big group of words mashed up, all sounding alike. Rock music can go either way, as long as it’s loud. Then there are artists that I can’t categorize. They make the sweetest sounds, and you are really touched by what they say and specific emotions are evoked in you. But when you sit down and read the words, they don’t make a damn bit of sense. For example, KOL (one of my favorites right now), have several songs that make no sense at all, but they all make me feel something. And even weirder, the songs that make me feel the most passion, make the least sense when I read the lyrics.
Remember that there is a huge difference between a musician and an entertainer. And they do not equal each other. When you look at the artists that exist outside the cookie cutter mold the industry makes, you can find some really unique souls. People that really feel what they sing about and really have a message to convey. My most favorite voice in the world sings several songs that literally break my heart, but I can’t stop myself from listening to him (BL you know who you are). I could hear him sing anything and be happy. His voice is so pure and deep to me, that it literally makes me blush. I can really understand why musicians have so many groupies. Everyone falls in love with the band, right? Because how could someone who makes you feel so much with their music, not be someone you’d want? It’s sad really. I suppose it’s dangerous too, because these things can easily get out of control. Isn’t there a saying like “sex-drugs-and rock-n-roll”? But that’s our world, isn’t it? Living in the moment.
Anyway - I guess I’m trying to say that I love music. I don’t think we could live in a world where music didn’t exist? I’m about to put on some tunes now. Although I want to listen to jazz, I’m feeling more rock today.
Hope you have a fabulous, music filled day.
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