dick whipped

(Males, avert your eyes)

Don't be a dick whip...whip that dick!

I'm tired. Tired, tired, tired. This has gone on long enough. For decades, we've been screaming out for respect, for women's liberation, but when will that really happen? When's gonna be our time??

Pat Benetar once proclaimed that "love is a battlefield" and she ain't kidding. I've seen women around me fall victim countless times. I've lost many a member of the platoon that is my sisterhood, to the dick. When will we realize, as a unified gender, that we hold the power and we don't need to succumb to the penis like we do? We don't literally have to whip that dick, but we can at least demand equality and fairness. We can stop being grown women behaving like teenagers who've gotten their cherry popped for the first time. We can still carry on with our usual extracurricular activities outside of being dick whipped every second of the day. We can still hold a little personal power, ya know.

What do I mean by the power, you ask? Well it's very simple. It's our vaginas.

You see the vagina is a magical thing. It's a magical, beautiful thing that can never be substituted. Clearly it is always imitated, but never duplicated. The vagina makes things happen. In a sense it moves mountains, parts seas; the eagles cry even echoes out over the tree tops: V-A-G-I-N-A! All that folklore you heard about Helen of Troy having a face that launched a thousand ships is a nice fairytale. I would say that Helen of Troy's pussy launching a thousand ships is 10 times more believable.

Don't believe that I am discrediting the dick. I'm still very much a fan. It has a strong presence, with it's protruding nature and explosive behavior. It's a fierce and powerful piece of equipment. No one can ever take that away. But the vagina...it's like pixie dust. Just sprinkle it ever so lightly and your victim will soon be under a spell. Human beings spring from it for gods sakes. Do we females realize this? I don't think so. That makes me sad.

I'm not asking anybody to be a tease and play games with the vagina, because that's not ethical and I usually don't like to promote a lack of ethics. All I'm asking is for us to analyze exactly how large a portion of ourselves becomes compromised in our relationships. Are we accomodating a little more than we normally would, all in order to please our partners? Are we giving up a type of lifestyle or a set of hobbies we used to enjoy for our mates? Are we getting more conservative by the minute, in order to fulfill those good girl qualities that are in such high demand? Are we doing this while pretending that we don't care? C'mon ladies. We didn't need to do all that.

Many of my male friends have admitted that it is indeed the female who decides how fast things move, in addition to when, where and why. So how is it that we are throwing this precious punany treasure around like it's no ones business? We are simply not understanding, let alone utilizing the power stored in the love box. When men question each other in reference to their manhood they ask, "where's your balls?" Today I pose the same question: ladies, do you have a vagina? Ok. Then show it some respect.

If you knew how much you could do with your twat and how much more you could do without even using it at all! Wowee. We fall into the dick whip trap and degrade ourselves all day long, along with abandoning all prior reason and morale, because we place our vaginas in the subranks; right below the dick. Ain't that a bitch? Yep, I think so. This way, we've just allowed our mates to think that they are better than us. And their genitals are better too. Say it. You might as well. Joe Donut says he doesn't want you going out to the bars with "your girls" because he thinks they're tramps and doesn't want their ho-bag qualities to corrupt you. You suceed. Guess what that means? Your self esteem sucks. Your pussy sucks too, because it does nothing for you. It can't even get you a measly night out with the girls. Soon you have no friends. Joe Donut isn't stupid enough to ditch his friends for you though, oh no. When he decides to go out "with the boys" one night you'll be left sucking down a six pack of Rasberry Smirnoff Ice through a straw, watching re-runs of "Saved by the Bell", all alone, waiting for him to come home. You disgust me.

This topic strikes a cord with me, well because I've been there. But if I've learned anything over the years, I realized that the power stored inside the vagina is strong and if you know how to use it, you can stop your mate right in his tracks when he tries to pull some hagard stunt on you. Use of the brain is also helpful. But that goes without saying.

A couple must take turns having the upper hand. In a relationship, one should not always be at the others beckon call. Subserviant is not hot. It doesn't have to get to the scenario I described above, and even if it does, it's never too late to change the situation. Dignity and the like doesn't have to be compromised. There's a lot of weeny out there; we don't have to flings ourselves atop the first one that introduces itself. I know the male to female ratio's are off, but please, let's behave like they're not for a second. Unless you truly enjoy cooking pot roast butt naked and getting blasted in the face with sperm soon after that, don't feel the need to falsely fit the profile of "the perfect woman". You know his ass ain't perfect.

this is the end, beautiful friend

Everything ends. Love, friendship, life; all good things, all bad things. They all come to an end. The only thing that gives me hope is faith in the existence of a new beginning, after that ending.

music vs. love

If you had to choose between music or love, which would you choose? I know this seems like a no brainer, because love parts oceans and all that sentimental stuff, but really think about it...A world without music...

Fuck that.

Music enhances our lives. I couldn't imagine a day without music, let alone a lifetime, and some people go a lifetime without experiencing real love. Ho-hum.

There are two kinds of people: people who enjoy music and people who are obsessed with music.  Those obsessed go well above and beyond enjoying music, because anyone can enjoy music. If you don't at least enjoy music, get checked yourself out, something's wrong.

People that live for music need it, they're the kind of people who refuse to get in their car and drive to the corner grocery store if they don't bring their tunes with them. While driving alone (or not), sing-alongs ensue, sometimes executed at the top of their lungs. These people refuse to listen to music on the radio for extended periods of time, because the radio is for laymen.  They cherish their music collection, and love to watch it grow, drawn to those sharing their obsession and readily able to sniff them from afar, eager to pick their brains. They thirst for more music, research new talents, and can't wait to get their eager hands on the latest good review. Concert tickets willingly purchased and well seasoned in having withstood the sweatiest, most miserable of mosh pits just to get a closer look. They're well versed in various genres of music and can appreciate them. To them no mood can be better set than by music and they know how to set it. They've dabbled in playing an instrument, they constantly have a tune trapped in their head and insist on sharing it with the world.  Their appetite for music is insatiable!

If you adhere to any of the above, you're a music junkie. Don't feel self conscious.  It could be much worse.

So, back to my question: music or love? Well that may be an impossible question to answer, but I know that love won't last, while music transcends all time and space. Music withstands the test of time, because great bands of past decades are still great bands, they might even still be on tour today if they're lucky. No one can take away their greatness, talent or credibility; extraordinary music is set in stone. On the other hand, feelings of love are not set in stone, in fact they are very subject to change. Not that I'm a big expert, I've only experienced love once and that came and went like the wind. I will say, however, that my short lived encounter with cupids bow had an astronomical impact on my outlook on life and even more so on my musical perspective. Dramatic, yes, but aside from having my heart broken into a million pieces I gained more than ever imagined from that relationship, which overrides any surmountable amount of heartache. I gained three cd's.

These are not just any cd's. A lover scorned often holds on to objects or memories from their lost love, secretly cherishing them. Some may keep pictures or love letters, others dried roses, or keepsake boxes, smelling of sweet and fragrant sandalwood. I have my three cd's. I guess love and music always went hand in hand for me. That or my obsession with music was so great that it parlayed its way into my love life. Perhaps seeking out this particular person might have been a subconscious effort, because he was a musician, which was appealing and a bad idea at the same time. Nevertheless, as a musician, he had an extensive knowledge of music in various genres. This was especially significant because I thought I so damn music savvy, but boy was I wrong.

He made me three mixes of music, "Get Schooled on Music" Vol's 1, 2 and 3. Cynthia's albums of radical music, he called them. School was in session.  Most of the bands on those cd's I had never even heard of.  It was music so obscure, I was forced to come to terms with how I didn't know shit. Sure it was embarrassing, but more importantly, it was humbling. A huge door was open, and my interest in mainstream rock music virtually dissipated. Until that point, I'd been listening to rubbish by the likes of Incubus, STP and Limpbizshit, thinking life was sweet. Damn that was hard to admit. The first two bands aren't that atrocious, but Limpbizkit.  Hell.  That was definitely a skeleton in my closet. The good news is now I know better. As a result of those three cd's, I was exposed to a new world of underground music, a plethora of sounds and a lot of hidden talent. All the obscure bands I would have never even guessed existed are now in heavy rotation in my ipod. And ironically my feelings for him are equivalent to those of my ipod: fuck you I love you.

Short winded romance or three cd's of radical music? I'll take the three cd's. At least they can withstand the test of time.

oh jacko

What do Robert Blake, Koby Bryant, Snoop Dogg, P Diddy, OJ Simpson and Michael Jackson have in common? Yes, they are pretty much all douchebags, but more importantly they are celebrities that were lucky enough to have been accused of crimes under the California court system! Not an infallible system by any means.

Yes, Michael Jackson was found NOT GUILTY on all counts. If you reside anywhere near a tv, you know this already. This news does not shock me. And to be honest, as freaky as Michael Jackson is, I don't think he's guilty. He's just completely fucking bizarre. He's also very disturbed; you might have noticed. I think he truly believes it's perfectly normal to have sleep overs with boys who haven't sprouted one single pube hair yet. Michael Jackson thinks he's 10yrs old. Surely he's aware of the fact that he's a 46 year old man, but he chooses to ignore that. Hell, who needs reality when you are beyond therapy and a billionaire!

Could you really see Michael Jackson last an hour in prison anyway? He'd be torn to shreds. That is if he was placed in a real sort of prison, and not these day spa prisons that celebrity types go to. Michael does not have the mental strength nor the physical capacity to last a day in prison. I saw "American Me"; I know what goes on in there. In my opinion he's already ruined, adding prison time would merely be a twist of the knife. His reputation is shot and his face is mutated. There's obviously a beast of pain inside of him. He needs no further punishment. Let Jacko be.

I won't be so forgiving towards Michael Jackson fans though. Wow, they are really a bunch of kooks aren't they? You know I once did a really queer thing like them in high school. I thought it would be really cool to make a huge sign for the weekly football game, which had the name of our mascot and my favorite team members included. I made it out of cardboard and crayons and I even nailed the cardboard to a stick so I could hold it up nice and high. After getting dropped off at the game I noticed shortly thereafter that I was the only one who had 'spirit'. I felt like I real dildo. I ended up throwing the sign in a trash can, I was so ashamed. I immediately knew that I had done a bad thing, but it was too late. People had already seen my sign, and there were pictures to prove it. That was really stupid, much like the people outside the courtroom yesterday. The only difference between my social blunder and the zest with which Jackson's fans received the verdict was that I was in high school. These people are grown, they should know better. What about their day jobs? Did they request time off specifically for the day the verdict was announced or are they all just unemployed? If they did request the time off, how did they know how long it would take to reach a verdict? Did they just take the entire week off so they could wait outside during the entire deliberation process? WTF?

I especially can't get over the dove lady. Who goes to that much trouble for someone who doesn't even know they exist? What if Michael Jackson had been found guilty? She would have to keep the dove trapped in her purse, where it would have continued to desperately flap and squawk, not to mention make a ton of turds all over the inside of her bag. I guess I'm just too realistic to understand Michael Jackson and his cronies. They're a little fruity for my taste.

I went to Save-a-lot the other day. If you go back in time, exactly one year ago, my first post was about a trip to Save-a-lot. For anyone who is unfamiliar with this post, which is probably most people on this earth, I described a store in which the stench of misery and poverty stands strong. I said it once and I'll say it again: the discount rack in the back of the store contains items which include packages that were ripped open and food is half eaten or expired. This is a testament to the ghetto factor of this supermarket. You will often times find shelves that are empty in certain isles and MSG is literally a main ingredient in most of the food there. Knowing this, I still go there sometimes. Where else can you get avocados for $0.69 each?

So, I'm waiting in line at Save-a-lot after picking up a few items. One of the things I love about going grocery shopping is peeking into everyone else's cart and checking out their stuff while you're in line. I think you can tell a lot about a person from what they're buying at the grocery store. For instance, while in the dairy section, I saw a young couple shopping. They obviously jumped into parenthood much too early at this point in their lives, because their little girl was sucking on a shoe (a plastic high heel at that) while sitting in the shopping cart and they didn't seem to give a shit. Believe me, I was horrified. Their cart was full of jugs of strawberry milk and Tampico citrus punch; many drinks made from concentrate. I didn't get a good look at what else they had, I was too distracted by the fact that their kid was dining on a shoe, but that pink milky drink looked nasty.

I was able to observe the guy in front of me thoroughly however, and he was an interesting one. First of all, his stench exuded cartons of cigarette smoke. There is a certain level of nicotine addiction that you can literally smell a mile away. I could actually smell the cancer in him. According to my watch, he has to be dead from lung cancer within the next 3 years, which is unfortunate because he had his daughter with him. I'm not one to judge or anything, but if I were forced to categorize these people by appearance I wouldn't hesitate to put them in the "po' white trash" category. I'd bet they have about 5 cats. I can just imagine what their house smells like. Cigarettes and piss. And cat shit. So I know for a fact that they have cats, because they were buying cat food. But you can sort of instinctively tell who's a cat person and who's a dog person anyway. If you can't instinctively differentiate the two then the guideline is "normal" person= dog person. "Eccentric" person= cat person. Don't get me started on what constitutes normal, because normal doesn't really exist, I just used the word for the purposes of this blog. I could go on for hours about this, but I won't. You're welcome.

Ok back to the white trash people. Other items to be included in the diet of these folks: Arizona Iced Tea, hot dogs, ready made potato salad, chocolates shaped like dogs, twinkies and my all time favorite, frozen tater tots. What we have here is the staple ingredients to your quintessential 'on the road to colon cancer' diet . Did everyone see Napoleon Dynamite? Well, if you didn't then you wouldn't be as amused by the tater tots as I was, but I found the fact that they were buying them pretty uncanny. Otherwise I'll admit that tater tots are pretty good. One of the grosser items in their cart was the potato salad. It was too yellow and smushy. Why would you buy pre-made potato salad from Save-a-lot man? Some things are safe to buy from shady stores, like spices, juice, or cereal. Some things aren't, like meats, poultry or ready made potato salad! I can just see that stuff giving anyone with a weak stomach the runs. For those with a stronger digestive tract, it has to at least give you a bad case of gas. It has to I say!

Anyway, what these people were putting inside of their bodies sort of reflected what they looked like on the outside: fucked up. I guess it's true what they say, you are what you eat.