The Pub

Random Friday episode #3

There is still two hours left in the day so I still feel justified in calling it "Friday".  Here goes.

- My hire date for the Fire Dept. got pushed back until July 11.  There is a lot involved in the decision that I won't go into here.  But I will be working Security for another month for sure.  Booo!  Oh well.

- Been going the personal trainer route at the gym recently.  I think it is helping me reach some of my gym goals.  But I feel a bit uppity doing it.  I'm also as sore as I have ever been in my life.  I suppose it means I'm working hard.  I suppose.

- Bush is cock-face.

- I watched the ending of Lost and Desperate Housewives this week.  Hated them both.   Whenever you have a show that is like watching a movie over the whole season you need to have some sort of closure and not just more suspense at the end of the season.  Neither one of these shows gave you anything you didn't already expect from the rest of the season and I probably won't ever watch Desperate Housewives again.  Lost, I'm still in on Lost but I'm pissed and I don't want to watch a another damn season to find out what the hell is going on.  Speaking of good shows, what the hell happened to Boston Legal?  That was an amazing show and it just sort of disappeared. 

- Hot personal trainer (not mine) was giving some hyper charismatic advise to other hot girl at the gym by one of the ab machines.  I typically would be interested in what they were saying but after about 15 seconds I was fed up with people thinking they know something about Christianity when they are really just caught up in their own self-delusion.  So I got up and moved, didn't even say anything.  I think it is now impossible for me to take Charismatics seriously anymore. 

- That's all for now.  Hope you all have a good weekend. 

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What kind of reader am I?

The McCarty’s recently posted a question on their blog after one of the Musers confessed what kind of reader she was. Then she asked what sort of reader we are. 

 

It is usually sad for me to read. Every once in a while I will find myself so caught up in a book that I loose track of time, reality, and current responsibility for a chance to live in this other story. But far too often my shortfalls rain on my reading parade. I am often afraid to pick up books because I am scared that the experience will remind me that I am a fraud. I have to read slowly if I want to comprehend what I am reading. It makes me feel rather childish that after this many years I cannot read at a grown up pace. That after all my efforts to be good at reading and understanding I am, at the end of day, a fraud. 

 

I wish there was another way to read than look at pages where there is a beginning word and an ending word. Something about the way the pages are set up in blocks makes me think that it is more important to finish reading each word on the page than it is to actually understand and be affected by the ideas contained therein. I am so proud of myself when I finish a book. Not that I completed it and can now digest everything, but rather that I actually read all of the words in the book. I feel bad if I leave sections unfinished and I scorn myself for not finishing a book that I started, “Look what a disappointment you are! You can’t even finish a book! All of the people you respect and love finish books all of the time. Why can’t you? HUH?”. I suppose I still can’t get over the idea that people will only like and love me because of the things that I have achieved and am good at. Success somehow gets translated into finishing tasks and if I don’t finish the task, and usually finish it better than what I or could have done, then I am a disappointment. Good Lord I have issues! I wonder often how I put up with myself. I think by tricking myself into believing that everyone else is really as neurotic as me, I’m just dumb enough to put mine out in the open. 

 

So I am a terrible reader. Except for those rare times when, for whatever reason, I am so pent up in the story that I laugh, cry, learn, live and dye with the characters. I wish I could do this with every book. I wish I knew more about myself to change myself. But as it is, I do not. Maybe there is a good book somewhere I can read about it. 

Blogging break.

I've had to take a short blogging break for a couple of reasons.  1)lack of motivation and inspiration. and 2) haven't had much time to sit and write. 

I will try and get to it soon.  Just want all you to know I haven't forgotten about you. 

The Male Hormone

I kind of go through emotinal cycles from time to time even though circumstance haven't changed much in my life.  I've heard before that men go through hormonal cycles like woman but I've never heard much about them.  I was wondering if any of you knew anything about it or could point me in the right direction.
I'm trying to figure out what the hell is going on with me. I would appreciate any input any of you have.  Holla

The Real Culprit

I was watching the Daily Show the other night and there was some Rep. Sen. from wherever the hell (They are all whores to me so I don't ever pay much attention).  But the guy had written a book about decency.  He kept on going on and on about, "How dare those Rap artists fill my daughters ears with such filth".  Okay, I'll be the first to admit that rap artist aren't exactly the most morally responsible people in the world.  At least as far as the popular artists go.  But I missed the part where Rap artists were forcing people to listen to their music.  I don't think I ever had a rapper tie me up and forcibly "Fill my ears with such filth".  That's fucking ridiculous. 

The reason people produce things is because people will by it.  The reason Rap artists rap about "fucking hoes", "Dolla Dolla Bills", and "Blowin holes in that biiiatttccchhhh wid a Nine" is because people buy it.  It's what sells.  Sure that makes Rappers capitalist whores but it doesn't make them the responsible party.  If your husband goes and bangs a prostitute you don't blame the prostitute.  You blame the one who is demanding the goods/services.  As long as people want it there will be someone to produce it. 

This is why Mega-Churches work.  They aren't concerned about teaching and molding people to live in the Kingdom.  They are pandering to peoples every whim and want.  That's why there has to be a  marketing strategist on staff.  That is why self-help Christianity is making millions.  So I don't really blame Al Mohler, James Dobson, Joel Osteen, 50 Cent, Puff Daddy, Britney Spears, etc.  They are the whores.  But the people demanding these services and political viewpoints without any sort of intellectual or moral responsibility, they are the real culprits. 

"Narrow is the way to eternal life, and very very few find it, wide is the path of apathetic irresponsibility and most capitalist whores, and totalitarian regimes will find it."  -The New International Pub Translation.

I would if I could.

Recently I have been in a blogging slump.  As if it wasn't obvious by the fact that no posts have gone up in almost a week.  But thanks to Jason at Theospora for finally giving me something to blog about.  I usually don't participate in "forward this to as many people as you know" shit.  But this sounds fun and you only tag three other people.  Feel free to participate or not if I tag you, I just thought I would give it a shot.

Here's what happens:
Below is a list of vocations.  You are asked to complete the sentence.  You are also asked to TrackBack to the person that tagged you, but I don't know how to do that so sorry Jason.  You are only suppose to pick five and you can add more to the list if you wish.

If I could be a scientist...
If I could be a farmer...
If I could be a musician...
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a gardener...
If I could be a missionary...
If I could be a chef...
If I could be an architect...
If I could be a linguist...
If I could be a psychologist...
If I could be a librarian...
If I could be an athlete...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be an innkeeper...
If I could be a professor...
If I could be a writer...
If I could be a llama-rider...
If I could be a bonnie pirate...
If I could be a service member...
If I could be a photographer...
If I could be a philanthropist...
If I could be a rap artist...
If I could be a child actor...
If I could be a secret agent...
If I could be a comedian/comedienne...
If I could be a priest...
If I could be a radio announcer...
If I could be a phlebotomist...
If I could be Paris Hilton's stylist...
If I could be the CEO of Microsoft…
If I could be a movie producer…
If I could be a laser hair removal specialist…
If I could be a dog groomer...
If I could be a bicycle repairman...
If I could be a Lumberjack...
If I could be chauffer for Michael W. Smith...
If I could be a Head Football Coach...
If I could be an insurance adjuster…
If I could be funeral home director…
If I could be a bus driver…
If I could be me…

here are my additions

If I could be Secretary of State...
If I could be an Assassin...
If I could be a Whore...

Here is my responses,

If I could be a chauffeur for Michael W. Smith I would martyr myself by driving the car off a cliff with both of us in it.  Saving the world by getting rid of shitty music, one artist at a time.

If I could be a farmer I would figure out a way to grow babies.  That way when someone saw my farm and asked "What are you growing" I could say "Babies" and they would say "Oh, that's cool" and I would say "Yep".

If I could be a priest I would always fill the Eucharist cup with way more wine than normal (and I would use real wine) that way I could drink the left over and get drunk and the service would be far more interesting. 

If I could be a funeral home director I would double it as a dance club and then people could come and have a good time and their loved ones could be hanging from the ceiling with chords that made them move and strobe lights and rap music playing and then . . . Okay that's sick, never mind.

If I could be me, I wouldn't.

Now I suppose for my tags I choose Leighton at Welcome to the Grind, Terry at Monastic Mumblings, and Rose at Unregulated Female.  Peace folks.

Guns, Dogs, and other things that make you go "OH FUCK"!

My dog is staying at my mothers house.  My dog (Gibson) is half pit half german shepherd and my mothers dog (Miller, named so by previous frat boy owners) is dalmations and something else big.  They are about the same size (55lbs or so) and they normally always get along well.  Last night though, Miller walked over by Gibson while he was chewing on a bone and withing half a second they were trying to kill each other.  I'm not overstating this at all.  It was one of the wildest, scariest things I've ever seen.  uninhibited rage from animals is a fearful thing.  My step-father was there and he immediately grabbed Gibson and I jumped in and got a hold of Miller.  We managed to separate them before they locked down, but then Gibson got loose and attacked Miller again.  I stepped in front of Gibson and he tried to go under me.  I lost my grip on Miller at the same time and he dove at Gibson clamping down on the bottom left side of his jaw.  He wasn't letting go for anything.  Step dad (Stan) was pulling Gibson and I was pulling miller but the more we pulled the more Gibson screamed because we were aiding Miller in tearing his face.  My mother ran in the other room to grab some cold water to throw on them but Gibson was making noises I didn't think could come out of another live being so I tried punching Miller in the head, closed fisted and I'm not a little guy, as hard as I can but it didn't faze him at all.  Gibson's face finally slid out of Millers mouth and we held them both down.  They were both bleeding from their faces but nothing too serious.  An an hour later when we let them be around each other again it was as if they didn't even remember what happened.  Very disturbing. 

A firefighter from the department I am trying to get on shot somebody night before last.  His girlfriends ex-husband came over to his girlfriends house and the fireman got his gun and went in the back yard where the other two were and put the gun in the back the guys head.  He said he did it to scare the guy, but he ended up shooting him the head.  The guy is in the hospital and is not expected to make it.  The fireman said he doesn't know how the gun went off.  I think I know, he pulled the trigger.  Human beings are too much like animals to be trusted with guns or weapons. 

My mother is a kindergarden teacher.  She called me this morning to tell me that she had to report one of her kid's parents for child abuse.  The kid's parent had hid them in the eye with a belt.  I substitute taught at their school for a second grade class once.  One of the girls from that class was recently placed back with her mom by DHS and the teachers were told to watch for signs of abuse.  This morning, someone else in her family walked into the little girls closet to find that her mother had hung her from the ceiling. 

OH FUCK!  WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THIS WORLD?!

Simply Amazing!

I went and saw “Crash” last night. It proved to be everything I was hoping for and more. The redemption that is portrayed in the movie is the most raw, authentic, and powerful that I have ever seen. It is redemptive not only for the characters but also for those watching. Because no matter how hard you try, you will find yourself in and amongst the characters. You live with them in their dirty, painful, messy lives and on some level or other you adopt their stories as your own. You adopt them with all of the hate, pain, hope, and love that come with them.

 

There really is no lead character. Just a story about how people’s lives come “Crash”ing together. But be warned, it is a dangerous emotional ride that will force you do deal with yourself and the people around you.

 

The best movie I’ve ever seen.

Just for Laughs

After yesterdays post I think we need a good laugh.  If you don't think this is funny then I will fight you.

An old man was sitting on a bench at the mall. A teenager sat down next to him. He had spiked hair that was red, orange, yellow, green, blue & violet.

The old man stared at the teenager. In fact, whenever the teen looked, the old man was staring.

Finally, the teenager said sarcastically, "What's the matter old man, never done anything wild in your life?"

Without missing a beat the old man replied, "Got drunk once and had sex with a peacock. Just wondering if you're my son.

Fragile People

What fragile people we are, I am. It makes a lot of sense to me for someone to put up guards and not let each other in to our little worlds. We are not trust worthy people. Part of the danger of letting someone in is knowing that, at some point, that person is going to hurt you. Also knowing that living without intimacy is not really living at all. A very wise person once told me, “With knowledge, comes responsibility”. We have a responsibility to those that we know to be good to them as best can to avoid hurting them. And we must be very careful indeed and choose our words ever so carefully. Being slow to speak, slow to get angry and quick to listen are required of us every day. The reason for this is that when we choose to let our guards down and reveal ourselves to someone, what we are showing them is our broken lives, our shameful worlds that we are hiding, our pains, and fears. In and amongst the mess are our small attempts at putting ourselves back together again and they are so very fragile and unstable. So we must take great care to not tread carelessly over the already broken parts and to not destroy what progress is already going on. For if you shoot arrows at me when I have not let you in and I have my guard up, they will do little damage. But if you shoot at me when I am exposed, then you have caused great damage. It is so hard to pick up the pieces of broken lives. 

Part of this obligation, I think, is to believe and encourage and act on good things in each others lives. Most of us don’t need someone coming to us pointing out our shortfalls and reminding us that we aren’t perfect. Most people are well aware of their virtuous short-comings and don’t need them paraded in front our faces as a reminder. The people that I love the most are the people that believe the best in me, despite my shortcomings. The people that haven’t boxed me up in a cage to live the rest of my life bound by my short falls. I think we all need that. We all need people who believe that we can change and things can be different.  

It is a dangerous business, this love thing. It requires a great deal of us. It calls us to take chances on each other, to forgive, to understand, to sacrifice. But we are all too prone to failure, and the best of us will learn to forgive and try again. Those of us who are less fortunate will become callous and close ourselves off because we don’t think we can take being hurt any longer. As a new friend recently quoted to me, “Most of us live lives of quiet desperation”. We may only have one chance, so may we take every opportunity to be good to one another. Oh how much easier life would be if we did not so desperately need each other.

“Ah, how cautious we must be with those who see not only what we do but look also within our thoughts” - Shakespeare Canto XVI