they are also binge drinkers, racist, and... violent.
they're the type of people who find no wrongdoing in blowing up an abortion clinic... they see nothing wrong with abusing gay folks... they think it's okay to stinkeye anyone, anytime, who is clearly not white and/or christian.
for a group of people who claims to be so religious, so righteous, so above-all-the-rest, they sure are a lot of mean motherfuckers.
but the dude is still a running badass.
the thing i've noticed about geoff, about ian sharman, about scott jurek and all my other favorite ultrarunners, including the ones i've met and run with here in the chicago area, is that they're all kind, nice, compassionate people.
without getting too mushy, that's what i strive to be as well. from running i feel more compassion for my planet, for life in general, for my species... running has this powerful ability to make me think positively, to want to love things.
it also makes me extremely horny, but that's for another day.
take a look at this awesome little minidoc about geoff roes and his running regimen... pay attention to his demeanor, his love for life. it's beautiful.
dj jazzy jeff has that, and he's still doin' it up.
because he is a bonafide badass. and i am in awe:
these are people who have never seen a white man before. their reaction is mesmerizing. the looks in their faces are pure. imagine, you, yourself have never seen anything modern, ever.
the wonderment alone... it's... beautiful.
but i gotta admit having just a tad bit of jealousy for all the free schwag they're gonna get.
i mean, looking around my house, a lot of my shit is old and falling apart. i could use a new toaster, coffee maker, microwave, dishes, silverware, wine glasses, t.v., coffee table, dining table, sheets, bed, etc. all my shit is... old.
and since it's highly unlikely that i'll ever get married, i wonder what my friends/fam would think if i sent out invitations to some event and had a registry for it, y'know, so i could get in on some of that fun stuff that married folk get. if we can celebrate and congratulate folks on being conformists to the marriage realm, why can't we celebrate and congratulate folks like myself who don't fit such labels?
besides, if you saw my toaster you'd wanna get me a new one.
society is made up of a bunch of selfish jerks these days.
ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME I WANT I WANT I WANT I CAN HAZ I CAN HAZ I CAN HAZ ME ME ME ME WANT WANT WANT WANT
this is a fantastic visuailtion of that selfishness, proof that just crossing the street can be risky business:
3-Way Street from ronconcocacola on Vimeo.
(vid via boing boing)
A FUCKING BREAK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
am i the only one who sees this for what it is: ABSOLUTE INSANITY!?!?
why do we continue to think it's okay to elect these fucking drones of fantasy?
i am surprised i still have all my toenails considering how much crazy people like the aforementioned make me want to rip them all out with pliers.
but let us not forget who the amish actually are: they're uber conservative christians (read: DELUSIONOIDS).
i grew up around the amish, so i know firsthand how fucking backwards their society is. if you wanna know the truth about amish living, consider the fact that women are treated as sub-human. the man rules the roost, often with a quick hand. premarital sex is HIGHLY taboo -- CONDEMNED even. and the fucking church is constantly watching over you... meaning that the elders dictate what you can do in the bedroom and what you can do... anywhere really, including the condemnation of... music. WTF!?!?
if anything, amish communities are great examples of anti-tech dystopian slave camps.
they often regard themselves as moral paragons who thrive while cast away from the sea of sin, but let me remind yee holy amish folks: dictating how one lives, down to the very last detail based on bullshit fairytales, while being racist and sexist, and then SHUNNING people who do not follow your path is not the sort of moral high-ground i wanna stand on.
it's fucking sick. it's fucking twisted. and it's fucking childish.
right now i'm plotting to dress my uber christian delusionoid sister's kids up like carl sagan and richard dawkins next time they come visit.
don't judge me, you heathens. you'd do the same.
(image via ihmp)
there's something peanut-butter-and-jelly-esque about backwoods country worldviews and keystone beer.
like drinkin' horse piss! not that i would know anything about horse piss.
stop judging me.
my six weeks of rest seems to have been good to the meniscus in my knee.
and now, i'm not ashamed to admit that after two solid days in a row of running i am feeling quite emotional.
the body is an amazingly complex thing, never to be taken for granted.
right now i'd have to say this track, past is prologue, is the one really keeping me up at night. so i thought i'd share.
sounds about right.
nah. i'm lyin'.
i mean, crazy as this picture seems, isn't all religious iconography this fucking crazy?
yes it is.
a hippy dude in the clouds hangin' out with an old white beardin' sky daddy, lookin' down at a red clad satan below.
talking trees and parting seas and magical water that turns into wine!
(image via tcd)
first of all, IDIOT WOMAN, what the fuck do you care about what other people do with their sexual parts? i don't see how anything they do privately could possibly fucking HURT YOU.
second, you're just spitting out cliched bullshit that has no scholarly merit.
third, you're being a judgmental bitch.
fourth, i'd encourage you to be like your boy jeebus and be compassionate and accepting and tolerant of others.
fifth... i'll be right back... i gotta go get some...
i have had them so often that i expect them now. they're not surprising and they don't illicit any special feelings and/or reactions anymore.
but the last few days have left me drained (in a good way) as i've been dreaming about running.
due to my injury, i haven't been able to run for well over a month now and it's really taking a toll on my mental stability. but when i woke up from a recent running dream i felt... good. i felt refreshed, as if i'd really gone out and logged 20 miles in the forest. not only that, but in my dream i was running faster than i ever have in real life, with infinite power and stamina!!!
i wish i knew more about dreams... what they actually are, where they come from, any possible healing attributes...
our minds are so fucking complex.
(image via skull swap)
*note: interesting how the male mind works, isn't it? i mean, this woman could have a swine head and i still wouldn't have noticed.
(image via hcibt)
repeat: i FUCKING LOVE WHOLE FOODS.
sucks that i have to take out a loan to shop there (which is why i usually opt for trader joe's then go to WF when i come up sumthin' fierce)... but for any of you who have ever shopped there, or are familiar with the shitbomb that is trying to find a parking spot (it's just as bad in the chi as it is in l.a. sometimes), i think you'll enjoy this:
maybe i should change that (and save some money while doing so).
here's a bit of truth about bottled water:
it's more terrifying than anything you can think of.
for a tween with an obsession (whether it's nancy drew, harry potter or twilight) can be an ugly, ugly affair.
(image via ihmp)
(a phrase heard often in the 'rooms' around the world)
i have written here in the past about how much the world needs to wake the fuck up, how folks ought to take notice of their surroundings, live according to the golden rule...
but one of the side effects of being aware of one's place in the universe is being responsible for one's actions.
admittedly, i've been a bit pissy the last few weeks. i haven't been able to run. that's why. i know it. but that doesn't give me an excuse to be debbie downer to everyone else in the world.
i noticed myself being curt and snippy with coworkers, with customers, with whoevs.
gonna work on that.
been biting my clenched fist lately. a lot.
this time it was because my sister (whom i love dearly despite her christian delusionoid status) wrote this as her status update on facebook the other day:
"my son just said he wanted to talk to Jesus :0) so we said our prayers for [sic] at night. Love that kid!"
her son (my nephew) is just 2 and a half years old. he has learned, like a pavlovian dog, that when he mentions jeebus to mommy and daddy, he is rewarded. he knows not of how fucking stupid his parents are in indoctrinating him into such tyranny.
and i can't do or say shit (i tried. once. not worth it losing my sister over).
through the magic of pandora, i discovered a new artist about a month ago. his name is tycho (scott hansen).
and the man's been blowing me away with his magically mystical tunes.
i first fell in love with the song i feature here, dictaphone's lament; but i have since made love to the entire album.
overall, his music is as rich in layered sound as it is full of positive imagery... at least, it is for me. when i hear these sounds, i get a little flushed (in a good way). i feel warm and happy and i wanna hug people (no, i'm not on drugs).
not only that, but dude is also a designer and he has a cool blog you can follow! i just ordered some vinyl from him, and a wicked cool tee with an original print.
i recently had a threesome (crowd hoots, hollers, applauds)... that's right... i used both hands.
(image via smbc)
in other words, me and the turntables = bonerjam city.
so anytime i see a record shop i make sure to stop in, 'cuz one never knows what gem is there to be discovered.
the other day i'm walkin' through my southside neighborhood and see the record shop (that is ALWAYS closed) is actually open, so i stop in.
no one is inside except a man behind the counter who looks pissed off... typical old blood southsider, seemingly pissed that the chinese and mexicans have slowly taken over his neighborhood. i stroll around with that i'm being watched feeling when finally he barks, "lookin' for anything in particular?"
"yeah, you have any hip-hop?"
this was followed by an eye-roll (the dude is white by the way, like old italian white... or irish white... dunno, is alcoholic a country?) and then he says, "what hip-hop? an artist? who?"
"nevermind," i said as i started out the door before a too $hort album caught my attention. i grabbed it. "yeah, like this. any more of this?"
he huffed and puffed, mumbled something and then led me to a small area that had... SOME BOMB ASS HIP HOP RECORDS!!!! flushed with joy, i grabbed a bunch and took 'em to the counter.
now, seein' all this loot i had, dude is finally nice to me... chatting me up, asking me how long i've been in the neighborhood, and all this shit while i pay for the goods... but why... why couldn't he have just been nice in the first place?
southsiders have a bad reputation already... why make it worse? just fucking treat people the way you would wanna be treated!!!
what i don't understand is how an imaginary friend is able to get people to stop killing themselves with drugs. it seems like the people killing themselves with said drugs would want to stop killing themselves, period.
i don't see how the imaginary friend is relevant at all.
but what do i know.
i'm a fucking free-thinkin' heathen infidel.
also, that's a pretty expensive car for a crackhead to be drivin'.
(image via tcd)
i'm a slayer fan. it's no secret. i've raved about my lust for them here before.
but i am not the average slayer fan. i mean, i do not have long hair. i do not hate people or things as a way to say 'fuck the world'. i do not live with my parents.
but i love music of all genres, and when it comes to thrash metal, it's just really hard to beat slayer. i got in an argument with a buddy once on who was better: slayer or pantera?
i love pantera. but... sorry, they can't touch this slayer shit.
IT'S RAINING BLOOD MUTHAFUCKA!!!
(image via skull swap)
THEY WILL RUE THE DAY!!!
(click to enlarge)
that's right. i was an ape fanatic.
so you can understand why i was disappointed when tim burton mucked it up a few years back (WHY DO THEY KEEP REMAKING MOVIES THAT WERE AWESOME TO BEGIN WITH????).
but now... this... this is coming and this...
this looks BAD ASS!
kids are kids.
they don't know any better. but they listen to mom and dad and elders cuz that's what they're hardwired to do, much like bees are hardwired to make honey for the queen, why lindsay lohan is hardwired to embarrass herself and her family ad nauseum.
LEAVE OUR CHILDREN ALONE, DELUSIONOIDS!
let them gather the evidence then make their own decisions.
i feel like broken fucking record some days.
(image via ihmp)
and as much as the still stoic communist regime would like the world to believe this event never actually happened, let me assure you: IT FUCKING HAPPENED.
when i lived in china i was sorta ornery in that i often prompted folks to talk to me about taboo subjects like tiananmen. i was careful to only do so if the participant was willing, and i met LOTS of folks who described those days back in '89 with lots of heart and lots of tears.
it was a fucking disgrace what the government did to those people.
never fucking forget.
here's why: the state government is seeing a resolution pass to get a ten commandments monument built... on CAPITOL GROUNDS.
seriously? a fucking TEN COMMANDMENTS monument? on STATE property? THIS is what fucking taxpayer money is going towards?
you asinine, delusionoid dimwits.
if you can't pull your head out of your collectively backwards ass, then you don't deserve my patronage... of anything.
more on this story from the friendly atheist... someone who i admire for being so calm in his disdain for the religious (read: the stupid).
it's a family trait... passed down from alpha male to alpha male in my family. my dad is a mule... when he's made a decision (right or wrong) there's no budging from it. he cannot be budged.
my granddad (dead now) was even worse. at 135 pounds and full of booze, he was one of the feistiest men on the planet. a boxer who was always ready to fight, one did NOT want to cross him because he had no problem punching his way out of an argument. he was such a stickler for fighting (and small in stature) that he was nicknamed "skeeter" (as in "mosquito", an annoying blood-sucking insect that just wouldn't go the fuck away).
i like to think that i've broken the family tradition of always being right by being able to admit that i fuck up (from time to time ;-). and will probably continue to do so.
but, i do tend to sugarcoat it.
no one's perfect.
(image via skull swap)