A Walk in the Park

Insert cheesy inspirational cliche here.

I don't know who or what built this and lives there.

I see you flower, shakin' that ass... shakin' that ass.

I don't recommend using this tree swing.

Another tree swing I don't recommend.

This is near where some jackass rang his bike bell (!) at me AFTER I got out of his way.

Go Folk Yourself

Of all the political euphemisms and turn of phrases there are that get on my damn nerves (and there are plenty), none bother me more than "folk." A fair amount of googling leads me to believe that you probably aren't as bothered by this phrase as I am, or better yet you probably don't care. But I'm not as mellow as you. Shit bugs me. I mean, don't you think it's the slightest bit demeaning? For example, you won't ever hear the talking heads of media refer to politicians as folks. They have titles. "Congresswoman such and such, thanks for joining us." "Senator whatshisface said today..."

It's been bothering me for awhile, then today on the way home from work in my car I heard that horny hypocrite Eliot Spitzer on NPR who, when asked about why anyone would give a shit about what he has to say about the deceptiveness, lack of willpower and lack of moral fortitude on the part of bank regulators recently conisdering he was out fucking high priced hookers barely out of college at night and fighting for stricter laws and penalties for prostitutes and johns by day, he said something along the lines of "folks will judge his message accordingly and make their own decisions and blah, blah, blah." And I'm like "folks"? I'm not your fucking folk, you fucker.

Why can't these god damn public servants learn their place?

I'm one of "the people." As in "we the people."As in "Democracy of, by and for 'The People'." Don't you fucking downgrade me to a folk. Folks are common. People are a collective of persons. I mean, we elect our officials to follow the "will of the people," not the "will of the folks." It's "Power to the People!" not "Power to the Folks!" And can you imagine being told that the earthquake in Italy killed a "bunch of folks"? That the crazed gunmen in NY went on a rampage and "13 folks died"? No! It's ridiculous. Once we die we're upgraded, I guess.

The language of politics is a manipulative one. The more distant and disconnected we see ourselves from our politicians, the more despondent we become. As soon as you accept that it's an "Us and Them" game, as soon as you accept that you're just a "folk" with no power and no say, the sooner "We" lose.

I don't expect people to be as easily annoyed and defensive as me, but I do expect them to be a little less apathetic.

On that note, Austin mayoral and city council elections are just around the corner. They're participartory, so do your part.

go here: http://elections.kut.org/ and http://www.ci.austin.tx.us/election/intro_eng.htm
for more information.

More on politics and language:

watch this:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	M - Th 11p / 10c
New Euphemisms - Redefinition Accomplished
thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Economic Crisis Political Humor

read this:
http://www.mtholyoke.edu/acad/intrel/orwell46.htm

remember this:
"The basic tool for the manipulation of reality is the manipulation of words. If you can control the meaning of words, you can control the people who must use them."
— Philip K. Dick

Fuck American Apparel

Perhaps you've seen their blatantly sexist and extremely unoriginal ads and thought "Well, that's pretty gross but the clothes are produced domestically and the sales people are paid more than double that of the kids over at Abercrombie and The Gap (who's threads are woven in China, Vietnam, and Indonesia) and so even though I'm not a fan of the way they market themselves I am a fan of 'Made In America' so I don't feel shitty spending my money there." OK, Well, Fuck that.

This dude:

This fucking piece of shit Canadian dipshit who thinks he's some sort of fucking trendsetter/trailblazer/pioneer/captain of industry is nothing but a dick-tugging/finger-sniffing/ass-groping hack who's about as ingenious and revolutionary as a Wall Street sycophant with a pension for Alabama Hot Pockets, AND... And, he's an asshole. Don't support an asshole, please. Fuck him, and fuck his $40 cotton v-neck t-shirts.

Furthermore:

http://jezebel.com/5012440/american-apparel-ceo-orders-subordinate-to-pleasure-herself-she-services-him-with-lawsuit


jezebel.com/gossip/i-work-retail/working-at-american-apparel-is-all-its-%20coked-up-to-be-316322.php?cpage=2

www.nytimes.com/2005/07/10/fashion/sundaystyles/10HARASS

www.salon.com/mwt/broadsheet/?last_story=/mwt/broadsheet/2009/04/10/american_apparel

Let's Keep Him to His Word

Subject: Tell Obama: Stop blocking court review of illegal wiretapping.

Dear Friend,

We have an opportunity to bring the Bush administration to justice for illegal wiretapping. But President Obama is blocking the way.

On April 2, President's Obama's lawyers invoked Bush's radical theory of executive power -- and the 'state secrets' defense -- to argue for the dismissal of the Electronic Frontier Foundation's litigation against the National Security Agency for the warrantless wiretapping of countless Americans.

MSNBC host Keith Olbermann has said "The Obama administration is just flat out dead wrong about this." You can watch Olbermann and Constitutional law professor Jonathan Turley discuss Obama's use of the "state secrets" privilege to protect the Bush administration on illegal wiretapping in this YouTube video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P9MxVen7j7s

If EFF's case against the NSA is dismissed, we may never know the extent of the Bush administration's illegal spying on Americans.

Please join me and take action to support the Constitution.

http://act.credoaction.com/campaign/obama_wiretapping/?r_by=-1980088-1Wkoz3x&rc=paste

Thanks! And, yes, this is a cut and paste job.

Still There?

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Once I watched one of those news magazine shows, can't remember which, that profiled this fiction writer who also knew like Quantam physics and the nature of time and all that shit that you just generally don't understand how anyone understands and anyway he was asked how he manages to be successful in two seemingly opposite fields at the same time and his response was simply "hard work."

Tsk. Hrmph. "You mean you think just anyone can be creative? Just anyone can write?!"

"Yes."

Sigh. He said he would sit at his desk all day and not leave until he'd accomplished something. I sit at my desk at work all day and get paid while not accomplishing anything, so I'm sure it's no surprise that my tiny, humble little blog has been sitting collecting cobwebs for awhile now.

Please don't leave me.

It seems like just yesterday I came to this sacred spot on the interwebs and bitched about my "new" job. I still hate it and what's worse--it's about to come to an end. I was hired as a temp, and the position only lasts for one year unless you can manage to score a position within the company before that year ends. I haven't managed to do that, mainly because I didn't want to. Now I'm losing sleep fretting over the inevitable: unemployment in this shitty economy. Doesn't help that the governor of my fine state has vowed to reject money allocated for Texas to extend unemployment benefits either.

"What? You're broke and can't find a job? Sucks for you. P.S. How does my hair look? Sincerely, Rick Perry"

In addition to not knowing if I'll have a job when June comes, I'm also unsure of the following: If I'll get accepted to law school, where I'll live, if I'll be with my boyfriend (looks doubtful, which, depending on who you ask, is hopeful). I feel like the cruise ship's hit an iceberg and I survived but am still floating in the middle of nowhere in a dingy, parched, sun-burnt and hallucinating. Only mine ain't the Life of Pi; there are no zoo animals and I will not find god when it all ends.

I do have my music, though. I am currently completely obsessed with the fine looking gentleman pictured above, one Ryan Bingham. This tall drink of water is a Texas singer-songwriter who pretty much could yodel and I'd listen all day because he's so god-damn beautiful. His good looks are really too much. I lose time just looking at him. What was I saying?

Oh, I remember now--what the fuck happened to my youth? I'd like it back now, please.

Suck It, Bitches! Bibles Are For Goobs.

So I went out last night.

(Applause)

Thank you. Yeah, it was fun. Christy, Jenny and I went to this restaurant/bar on the Eastside called "Good Knight," or maybe it's "The Good Knight"? That'd make more sense. Anyway, the skinny on this place is that you walk in and feel like you have been transported to 1884. It's dark and woody with old framed pictures and patterned drapes everywhere. They do a classic cocktails menu, which I was excited about since my favorite drink is the Old Fashioned (it was okay, not as good as mine but they never are). Then they have a small dinner menu with tasty food that's ridiculously overpriced. I had the chicken pot pie which was really just soup with a puff pastry on top. Aside from the overpriced food, the only other really silly thing about the place was the jukebox. They tried to keep with the old-timey theme, but that really isn't possible where music is concerned. I heard some Frank Sinatra, which made it feel like I had transported via my home made time travel machine and because of some glitch ended up stuck in some sort of parallel universe where the 1950s and the 1880s coincided. The highlight of the night was when Jenny let Christy and I know that from her seat she could see some guy at the bar's crack staring her right in the face and then he heard her, turned and gave a her the stink eye, and pulled up his pants--or, breetches I should say.
From there we went to a bar (still on the Eastside) called the Longbranch. I saw they had a sticker on one of their tip jars that said "Don't Dallas up my Austin," but judging by the crowd on the patio that command was ineffective. The service was mediocre. The jukebox sub-par. But we were good and buzzed at that point, so I didn't really give a shit. One positive, the graffiti in the ladies room, where I got the above pic (Suck it bitches), and the one below (Bibles are 4 goobs):



Also, apparently, Kelis is in San Diego now--dying by the sword. So much for her milkshake. (badump, bump)