Monday, June 28, 2010

Ten Ways To Fail At Coming Up With A List For Monday

10. Allowing your kitty to sit on your laptop because you both could use a snuggle.

9. Asking your Lil' Honey his opinion on a list topic, only to have him reply "boobies."

8. Relying on Divine Intervention

7. Fiber-Optics On Demand. They have Clueless! For Free! As IF!

6. Seriously, it will be an act of Maude if I ever get anything done, ever again.


4. Consulting Magic Eightball. Magic Eightball has proven itself to be incredibly lazy when it comes to predictions and consistently instructs me to "ask again later." Sloth.

3. Beyonce's Fashion Faux Pas! LOOK AT THAT HAIR! BAD FORM, BEYONCE.

2. Using Beyonce Knowles as an excuse for being distracted during list making and the guilt that ensues. I'm sorry Beyonce. Let's never fight again.

1. Preoccupation with Dick Cheney and the fact that EVIL JUST NEVER FRIGGIN DIES! ARGH!


Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Them Kids Is Alright, Part One

This topic of this post has been at the forefront of my brain to write about for, I don't know, forever? Yet, when I try to convey my thoughts to words on the matter, I always come up empty handed. I still really don't know what to say about this part of my life. It was such a chaotic and confusing time, but the time of my life that I learned the most about living, friendships, and standing up for who you are and your beliefs.

I spent my adolescence and early adulthood deeply involved in the punkrock counterculture of Cincinnati. This is what makes me who I am today. I marvel at the complete inappropriateness of being 13 years old and sneaking into bars and clubs to see bands like Nirvana (before Nevermind, I thought they blew) Seven Seconds, Circle Jerks, GBH, Exploited, The Ramones (the list goes on and on, and yeah I'm name dropping, lick me) and I feel horribly for what I put my parents through.During these days, I also found myself in the midst of a heavy drug culture and culture of extreme violence. To be perfectly honest, it is quite an act of God that myself and many of my friends are alive to this day. Contrarily, many, and I mean MANY, of my friends are dead. At age 34, I have been to three times as many funerals, as I have weddings. It's very sad, however, a sobering reality of the counterculture.

Just as in the halls of every high school, the scene on Short Vine had several different cliques of misfits who had all found their way to this mile long street, trying to escape the doldrums and bigotry of their suburban homes and high schools. Some were runaways, some were old enough to live on their own, but many were just weekend warriors, myself included. There were the punk rock kids called Crayola Kids, known for their vibrantly dyed hair, who were also part of an older group of veteran punks and skins, known as the Family. Many members of the family were also formerly a part of a loose organization called SHARP, SkinHeads Against Racial Prejudice. There were The Noble Savages, a mixed bag of beefy, martial arts enthusiasts. The Galley punks, named after the SubGalley, the dive bar they resided in to drink and shoot up heroin. The Brothers, which nobody knows if they were really brothers, but they were a bunch of train jumping travelers, who could be found in Cincinnati during the summer months. The 513 Forkburn Crew, which consisted of a bunch of Straightedge Hardcore kids from Cincinnati, Dayton and Toledo, as well as the Queen City Bootboys, a group of skinheads who took no political stance and were basically in it to kick anyone and everyones' ass. The 513 and Bootboys were my friends. There were also a bunch of kids who floated between the few cliques, like walking, talking embodiments of Switzerland.

It was an exciting time, well, for a stupid teenager like myself.

I will never forget during the summer of 1990 after Fugazi played at Bogarts on Short Vine, the riot that all started over a stolen Mag-Lite, an alleged sugar-daddy who used his position as an AA counselor to create same sex affairs with young, desperate kids, as well as teenaged angst and bravado. As bodies swarmed the streets like a drove of irate bees, jaws were broken and a barrage of bar stools were hurled into on-coming traffic. Ian Mackaye, Fugazi/Minor Threat lead singer and Punk Rock Icon, emerged from Subway (the sandwich store), like a Phoenix rising from the chaotic ashes, to appeal to our sense of unity as societal black sheep and cease the senseless violence......then somebody nailed him with a bottle and shouted, "FUCK YOU IAN MACKAYE, YOU DON'T LIVE HERE!"

Good times.

This is the point where my thoughts and memories bog me down into a pit of reminiscent confusion. Next up: How I came to be such an asshole, juvenile delinquent.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Ten Ways To Partay Hartay While High On Life

10. Spin yourself around in circles, as fast as you can, until you fall down. Stuff some pillows down your pants so you not only look fantastic, but you buffer the blow.

09. Greet people and join conversations, speaking only in PigLatin. Everyone loves PigLatin, and you will surely be the life of the party.

08. People are craving more intimacy in their lives. Though most people go about finding this by posting TMI on the internet, you can gain intimacy and long lasting friendships by greeting new people with lots of touching and speaking to them softly, really close to their faces. Bring some tic tacs and let the lifelong seeds of friendship be sewn!

07. No matter what, everyone is always interested in hearing about your Irritable Bowel Syndrome in detail. People are SYMPATHETIC and like LEARNING.

06. Impress new friends by showing them how easy it is for you to drink an entire gallon of vitamin D milk in an hour! If that doesn't work, demonstrate how easy it is for you to whistle "Yankee Doodle" with a mouth full of crackers!

05. Request that the DJ/Band play Miami Sound Machine's classic hit, "Conga". When the music starts, sing along as loudly as you can, while you grab people around their waists to form the Conga line. This will make memories that last a lifetime.

04. Get creative! Sometimes even the best parties can hit a lull in the action. You can save the party and your host's reputation by appealing to the creative side of all the party goers. Every 8 in 10 American kitchens will have a package of kraft singles in their cheese boxes. Grab a pack, peel a slice, hold it to the ceiling and have your friend hold a lighter underneath it. The cheese slice will then affix itself to the ceiling. Repeat until the entire ceiling is covered. Not only will all of the party goers work together to create a masterpiece, you will also add some culinary class to your host's abode. Tasty and beautiful!


02. Legendary rock stars, Ted Nugent and Gene Simmons are famous for their lifestyles of partyin' high on life. To stay sober while rocking and rolling all night and partyin' everyday, they focused on sex. These days, due to STDS and teh AIDS! it is safer to stay away from "going all the way" at parties, so I recommend sexually suggestive mad libs for a good, steamy time.

01. Remember, shit DOES NOT happen when you party naked while high on life. Sobriety means it is consensual.


Saturday, June 19, 2010


The Honey's Song to Moi.

Lazy, Sunless, Saturdays

Ok, Mr. Crossley, I will write something. Shaysus!

I really dont have a topic today. The last couple of weeks went from crazy busy, to a full on HALT. Culminating the academic year, we have an event that monopolized my time from December until June 3, not to mention seven other events that I had to organize and execute during that time. They are all quite large, 150- 200 people, but the final event brings in 600 people. I had also volunteered to organize a couple of charity events on the side during this time. Needless to say, I have a few more, well earned, gray hairs on my head.

After June 6, I had NOTHING, ZIP, ZERO on my plate, and 275 vacation hours(!).

Needless to say, I have been taking it easy, well as easy as someone who got herself into a pickle and found herself the apple of an internet crazy's eye. Me and my big ass mouth. It's been getting me into the piss for over 20 years! During this down time, I have achieved very little. Some new web design for work, coordinating some meetings for the end of July, lots of walks with the dog, time by the pool, accounting, spread sheet making, step-parenting, wife-ing, fasting, cleaning, yoga-ing... OH, and internet drama-ing.

Did I mention that some guy accused me, (just me!) of being a vast network of internet trolls after I let him know I thought he was an asshole of epic proportions? YEAH! YAY! He even threatened to have me fired for being on the internet during work hours (though I'm not really working right now, well, at least not on the clock, just wirelessly). Yeah! He then threatened to have me sent to PRISON!! for tweeting things I never twatted! YUP! He has screenshots, y'all! Then Mother Theresa sent him an email about how he is a much better person than me. I am just a sad, ugly, lonely, bully who is "broken" and he needs to take pity on me. What a relief!

The lesson I learned? Some things are better left said behind someone's back, rather than to their face. I also made some new e-pals and e-haterz (thanks for the blog hits!). Also, people are attracted to drama (myself included) like flies on shit, and that it is probably a waste of my time to entertain the mentally imbalanced of the e-world.

So Mr. Crossley, to better spend my time, I want you to give me a topic... Any topic to write about. I feel rusty in the prose area, as my snark muscles are bulging like a steroid ridden, body builder.

Help me Obi-Wan. You are my only hope.