OK, I know I’ve already done a quote of the day today, but this was too good to pass up.
“Geez…I’m covered with unidentifiable wet stuff.” - Tiffany of BlownFuse
“I maintain there is much more wonder in science than in pseudoscience. And in addition, to whatever measure this term has any meaning, science has the additional virtue, and it is not an inconsiderable one, of being true.” - Carl Sagan
I got a postcard today from the Army captain I write to from time to time. Here’s what it looks like:
It seems he’s getting to go back to his base in Germany in March. I’m very happy for him and his family. Welcome “home", Captain.
Huh. Well, he’s got me there.
“You don’t see a lot of gay abortion clinics,” said Mr. Kerry. “Same-sex couples almost never have unwanted pregnancies. If every man and woman in America would commit to a homosexual relationship with another man or woman, respectively, then we could virtually wipe out abortion in a generation.”
“The covers of this book are too far apart.” - Ambrose Bierce
In a conversation between my husband and son today, said husband told said son a big, fat lie.
“I found a bug!” sayeth the son. “Get it off!”
“Where’s your bug?” asked the father.
“On my bee-puter.”
(father inspects said ‘bee-puter’ and sees a small brown bug hiding under the keys of the keyboard)
“Oh, you have a little bug! Hello, Bug.”
“Daddy, can I have him on my finger?”
“Let’s see if I can get him to come out.”
(poke, prod)
“I don’t think he wants to come out, honey.”
“He’s a STINKbug, right, Daddy?”
“No, honey, this one’s a keyboard bug.”
“Anyone who uses the phrase ‘easy as taking candy from a baby’ has never tried taking candy from a baby.” - Anonymous (but maybe the truest Quote of the Day I’ve ever posted)
We had another ultrasound today, and Baby Note-It Posts is an outie. Adorable, completely healthy, wiggling and squirming (but I already knew that), so it looks like, come June, I’ll have another son.
“You can’t kill Ashcroft … I just don’t think it’s possible. Maybe a wooden stake.” - Mike
ATTENTION SECRET SERVICE: We are not planning to kill Ashcroft or anyone else (that you are required to protect), we are speaking purely in hypotheticals.
Mostly.
Mike of miniluv has announced his candidacy for the (mental math, mental math…*) 2016 election. Aside from the fact that Mike and I agree on pretty much EVERYTHING politics-related, he has my support because he’s already publicized a kickback job for me!
Now, while it is a bit premature I will announce my cabinet:
Secretary of State Dana. Her insight and wisdom, tempered by insane woman logic are exactly what's needed when dealing with foreign nations.
Two words: Damn. Straight.
There’s also plenty to admire in his positions. For example:
National Security: Since the UN continues to show its irrelevance time and time again the US ambassador will be replace by a man in a chicken suit. If questioned why, the U.S. chicken man will only respond with The United States of America cordially gives you the bird. Additionally, I intend on giving France back to Germany after I personally place a flag on the Eiffel tower that reads, Thanks for the Support!
Incidentally, when I read this (after I stopped crying from laughter, that is), my first thought was of the Eminem song Slim Shady.
This guy at White Castle asked for my autograph
(Dude, can I get your autograph?)
So I signed it: ‘Dear Dave, thanks for the support, ASSHOLE!’
Incidentally, for readers new to Note-It Posts, Eminem is my own personal dirty little (not so-)secret. I’d do him. Twice.
Hm. I hope that little admission doesn’t hurt Mike’s push for the presidency. I really want to go for a ride on Air Force One.
* Hey! I’m Secretary of State, not Secretary of Treasury, cut me some slack before I assign your ass as Ambassador to Antarctica!
Scott Ott is at it again:
President George W. Bush this morning made a long-awaited statement backing a constitutional amendment narrowly defining “mayor” as “a political relationship between one elected official and one specific city.”
“…except in the case of San Francisco, where ‘mayor’ is defined as a synonym for ‘grandstanding asshole’.” (so sayeth my husband)
Earlier today, Mr. Bush also called for an amendment defining ‘marriage’ as a monogamous heterosexual relationship. But within hours a Ninth U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals panel issued a “pre-emptive ruling” overturning proposed Constitutional amendments XXVIII and XXIX on the grounds that they would have been “approved by ignorant legislators and voters, rather than progressive federal jurists.”
To the person who recently posted a comment about the gay marriage thread - using phrases like “get your head out of your ass” will get your message deleted around here. There will be no shitting on my blog’s carpet, ya got that? I disagree with what you said, but was prepared to approve it until I got to that part (even though it was posted anonymously, which is a peeve of mine).
To answer your question - no, I do not speed. If you’d care to try another unreasoned, poorly worded, poorly spelled attack on my position (which you clearly don’t understand in the first place), go right ahead. But keep useless, inflammatory phrases like the one already mentioned out of it if you ever expect your post to see the light of day.
Some of you may have been wondering (or maybe not, but I’ll pretend, anyway)why I haven’t been posting as much lately. The truth is, I’m dabbling in a little Ebay entrepreneurship. Namely, making stuff for scrapbooking layouts. It’s occupied most of the time left over from child-tending, hence the lack of posting.
Anyway, I was looking for some kind of cute little poem about McDonald’s to go along with a layout I’m doing, and I found this (it made me laugh out loud):
…"And God populated the earth with broccoli and cauliflower and spinach, green and yellow vegetables of all kinds, so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives.
And Satan created McDonald’s. And McDonald’s brought forth the 99-cent double cheeseburger.
And Satan said to Man, “You want fries with that?
And Man said, “Supersize them.” And man gained pounds.
On the comment to my earlier post about gay marriage (which really wasn’t about gay marriage, per se, but the necessity of governmental authorities to enforce the law), someone posted this:
In regard to same-sex marriage, is it conceived to be between two members of the same sex who have a loving relationship? A sexual relationship? If so, how will this be determined? If it cannot, or is immaterial, then some unintended consequences could occur.
For instance, two unrelated men (or women), not sexually involved with each other, indeed not even homosexual, cound in theory get married for the so-called benefits. Including in some states the right to be immune from testifying against a spouse.
In this case gangsters (such as Whitey Bulger and Steven Flemmi, notorious murderers who corrupted the Boston FBI office) could get married and invoke their marriage rights against testifying against each other.
I hadn’t even considered that. I mean, I assume maybe it comes up between people of different sexes who get married for spousal protection, but my guess is it’s not as common; they’re just aren’t as many women in organized crime as men. I’m not saying this should be a barrier to same-sex civil unions, but I do think it’s something we should think about. So… any thoughts?
“It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.” - Aristotle
Off and on all day, I’ve been reading the descriptions of the various Flame Warriors. It’s a long, amusing list, and the illustrations are INCREDIBLE. I have decided that (of the ones I’ve read so far), I am most like Big Cat.
Big Cat would rather not fight…he enjoys peacefully observing forum conversations and laconically participates when the moods strikes. He playfully chases interesting threads, and from time to time uses a Newbie or Propellerhead as a convenient scratching post. He enjoys being stroked or petted, and tends to purr loudly. CAUTION: Don’t be fooled by his fuzzy, playful exterior. When provoked, Big Cat reacts with lightning speed and almost always lands on his feet after an attack. Big Cat often indulges himself by toying with his victim before delivering his lethal blows.
Yep. That’s me. *purrrr*
The scariest thing about this
story (besides its length) is that I could have written it! Before Mike rescued
married me, I worked in tech support - first as an entry-level tech,
then as a mentor, then as online support (the most coveted tech support
position possible - no phones!), then as a supervisor, then as a
manager. So much of this rings true, I wonder if the author doesn’t
work at my old company.
Ken is standing in the aisle, tethered to his cube by the spiraled umbilical of his headset, holding an unlit cigarette, and yelling. Ken is always yelling, and that’s why we love him. Lots of us jot down Ken’s more memorable tirades and compare notes on our breaks. Now, standing near my cube, screaming in the urgent and gravelly tones of a mid-40s chain smoker trapped in a non-smoking building, Ken tells a customer, “Quit whining and go get a damn screwdriver. I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
Woohoo, I’ve hit the bigtime! (OK, not that big, but still… w00t! Incidentally, notice how happy everybody in this area is? Well, everybody but Margi, that is. ;)
Trying to reason with a three-year-old is like trying to nail Jello to a tree.
“If the automobile had followed the same development cycle as the computer, a Rolls-Royce would today cost $100, get a million miles per gallon, and explode once a year, killing everyone inside.” - Robert X. Cringely
OK, quick, how many weblogging Pinkos do you know?
Pinko has an angry, almost genetic loathing for privilege, greed, social exploitation, racism, sexism, homophobia, pro-lifers, the religious right, environmental degradation, the NRA, US imperialism, multinational corporations, big business, Republicans in general and George Bush in particular.
Margi and I are both Texans, transplanted to the Inland Northwest (and, by God, one of these days we’re gonna have lunch!). But for some odd reason, I’m “southerner” than she is. When she took the Yankee/Dixie quiz, she scored a 54% Dixie. When I took it, I got an 83% Dixie score. That bodes well for my trip back to Dallas in a couple of weeks. I do have to confess, I’ve started calling it “soda” here, since calling it “Coke” just plain confuses people in these parts. I look forward to ordering a “Coke” and having a waitress ask me “which kind” without even a hint of uppitiness.
“During pregnancy, your body will produce as much estrogen as a nonpregnant woman’s body would make in 150 years - at mid-pregnancy, as much in a single day as a non-pregnant woman’s ovaries produce in three years.”
So back. The fuck. Off.
“We have to install Dino Tracker before we can play it.” - My son, age 3 1/2, who is a true child of his generation (and recently had his computer repaved).
In a letter to government officials in San Francisco, David Codrea writes:
You have shown progressive thinking and tolerance for that which the majority condemns. So I was thinking of coming up to San Francisco and exercising my right to keep and bear arms, maybe showing up at City Hall with a state-banned AR-15 and a couple 30-round magazines, and also carrying several pistols concealed without a permit.
Yes, I know, it will be a violation of California laws, but you’ve shown that you’re willing to disregard those when it serves your goals. And because I am a peaceable citizen, I should easily meet Judge Warren’s criterion that no immediate damage would be done by allowing this.
So what do you think, if I visit your city and proudly display my lifestyle choices, can I count on your support? As a private citizen, don’t I have as much right to disregard laws I find reprehensible as you public officials? Isn’t that what equality is supposed to be all about, where no class of citizen enjoys privileges and immunities not extended to all?
For what it’s worth, I support the notion of gay civil unions, a church’s right to grant religious marriage to whomever it deems worthy, and governments freeing themselves from the ‘marriage business’ altogether, and granting civil unions to any two consenting adults not already engaged in similar civil unions with others. I don’t expect to see these become majority views in my lifetime, though, and I damn sure don’t support people disregarding or breaking laws they disagree with just because it doesn’t suit them. If the law is wrong or bad, work to change the law, or move someplace that has laws more suitable to you, but you can’t just ignore the laws you don’t like - that way lies anarchy.
And then there were four…
So, Dean’s out of the race. I didn’t hear all of his speech (I may yet live), but I heard snippets of it on NPR. Now, was it just me, or did he sound a bit like an automaton?
“I will get bigger, like you, and then I will eat the lettuce.” - My son
Happy Valentine’s Day. Share the love.
Another busy week. Monday (I don't remember the preceding weekend at all, but I think I stayed home and worked) I went to my last quilt guild meeting for awhile. With the trip to Texas coming next month, and the baby coming just a few months after that, I decided it would be best if I stuck closer to home for awhile. So, I extricated myself from the committees I was in (easier than I thought, actually), saw some interesting show-and-tells, then made my way toward home. It was a long, long, long day, though, since I got there at 9AM to work on the community service quilt project with a few other women. Mostly this meant I organized fabric, cut fabric, and directed others to do the same. One thing I've learned about this is that very few people want to show any initiative (myself included, sometimes), so if you just give them clear directions about what they should do, then it works out great. And then there's "the others" who come in late and want to change everything you've been doing and distract everybody by sending them off in some other direction. Those people are harder to work with. No matter, though, since *I* won't have to work with them for some time now.
Tuesday was an utter blur. I must've stayed home. Wednesday we all went in for our weekly errands. In addition to the usual bank, grange, grocery, we had a stop at the lawyer's office to sign/notarize some paperwork, then at the clinic for Kayla's 18 month checkup. She's healthy (tall, and sporadic on weight, whatever that means), and she got her Hep B and DPT boosters, which made her cranky but had no lasting effects.
Yesterday I took the kids to preschool. Nothing much to report; it was a fairly normal day. The only thing that really stood out at all was that there was a new volunteer in Kayla's room, a man even taller than me. She walked into her room cheerfully, then saw TheMan and stopped cold, and started crying. It took some doing to convince her that TheMan wasn't going to hurt her (he was doing his best, sitting on one of the little tiny chairs so he'd be close to the ground); Kayla's still at an age where men-people are instinctly less trustworthy than women-people. I got her interested in the substance table (rice again, whee) and left to take Adam to his classroom. When I got back, Kayla was sitting in the lap of one of the regular female volunteers, who was right next to TheMan, and she was fine. I'm sure she'll adjust.
After preschool (and the obligatory McDonald's happy meal lunch), I came home and called the county landfill to ask about their hours, then called a friend to see if her husband and/or son might be interested in making a few bucks by loading/unloading some of the excess furniture I had around the house. They agreed, and were at the house inside of 30 minutes. They loaded up a couch, two half-couches, a rocking chair, and a television set into the back of the truck, tied everything down, then we headed out to the county landfill where they offloaded it. I guess I had been picturing a great big smelly hole in the ground somewhere, but that wasn't it at all. Instead it was just this huge warehouse, with an enormous conveyor belt. You load your crap onto the belt, it climbs to the top of the "hill", then gets dumped into this big 18-wheel truck thingie. There's a guy whose job is to pick out some things (presumably for recycling) like mattresses and couches, crush other things (like our TV), and spread other things around, all with this HUGE, very HEAVY pincher clamp/crane thingie. Note to self: don't get caught in the clamp thingie! I got the guys back to the house, where they loaded up another rocking chair and a sewing table to take to their house, then they left. The house is MUCH emptier of excess furniture now, which is a very good thing. And now I know what to do with the crap (paneling, carpeting, etc.) that I pull out of the rooms I remodel. I was tired and achy by the time I got home, but it felt good to get all that junk out of here. Whee!
Well, it’s happened. Yet another blogger has announced his impending fatherhood. Congrats, Mike! Now, let’s see, how many of my regular reads does that make that are expecting? There’s Baby Blackfive, and Baby Quibbly, now Baby miniluv and my own Baby Posted. Gosh, a couple more, and it’s enough to start our own alliance!
Update: There’s also a new Baby Philly.
“He who will not reason is a bigot; he who cannot is a fool; and he who dares not is a slave.” - Sir William Drummond
I only file this under “Science” because I don’t have a “crackpot ideas” category. Apparently a UK grocery chain is going to launch a new product: aphrodisiac pizza. The idea itself isn’t what turns me off, it’s the ingredient combination.
The Pizzagra will contain items the company says are “renowned for their ability to lift the libido in both men and women including artichoke, asparagus, ginger, chocolate and banana.”
I like asparagus. Ginger can add a certain something to ethnic foods. I love bananas, and who could have ANYTHING against chocolate. Heck, I can even stand artichokes, though they seem to me a whole lot of work for not much return. But. Artichokes… WITH asparagus… WITH ginger… WITH bananas and chocolate. Gross.
Woo! Dean waffles again! Now he won’t stop running after Wisconsin after all. In fact…
He now promises to stay in “until this ringing in my head stops.”
Well, you knew he was a ding-a-ling, didn’t you?
I will never stop running for president. This is my profession – my calling. The ringing in my head beckons me to strive inexorably onward. Can you hear the ringing? Can you hear it?”
In a delicious little bit of irony… you remember that adult store I told you about (January 12 entry)? The one with the “Howard Dean for President” sign? Well, I passed by that store again yesterday. The sign was gone. So much for Dean’s “loyal base.”
Sgt Hook tells us the story of a young man - Chuck - who hook enlisted into the Army’s Ranger program. As if I didn’t already have enough respect for the First Sargeant, he tells us:
The ensuing eight months included my having to bail Chuck out of jail for fighting, talking his high school principal into not expelling him, finding him an apartment because his mother threw him out of the house, meeting with his father enlisting his help to keep Chuck on track, meeting with his guidance counselor to talk about his failing grades, calls to Uncle Jack trying to find Chuck’s whereabouts, getting Chuck enrolled in a different school after he eventually was expelled, and convincing the local Sheriff not to chase down the bus that was taking Chuck to the airport to catch his flight to Fort Benning, GA. Chuck was a royal pain in the ass.
Chuck is today an Army Ranger fighting in the Global War On Terror and his mother sent me a letter recently thanking me for sticking with her son when others hadn’t, herself included, and helping him to become the man he is today. She wrote that she never thought she would see the day that she and her husband would be proud of their son Chuck. They are immensely proud of him.
And I’m immensely proud of you, Sargeant.
I’m going to have a running entry today, of things kids say, or things we say to them that, out of context, seem quite amusing (to me, anyway).
* Adam, the crocodile does not play in your food.
* I found a crocodile, and he’s gonna eat you!
* When someone saves your life, it’s polite to tell them, “Thank you.”
* Can you get that bug, and capture it, Daddy? It’s a stink bug. It stinks.
* An animal is a kind of herbivore which eats everything.
I went to my quilt guild’s monthly meeting yesterday (the last one in awhile, with TheSprog on the way), and before the meeting I participated in a fabric sorting/cutting/gab session with a couple of other ladies. For the first two hours or so, it was only me and one other woman, so we naturally started talking about some of the other guild members.
The woman I was talking to (let’s call her Jane) brought up another woman (let’s call her Sara), with whom I’ve worked on committee before. I won’t say which committee, of course, but I will say that Sara was a complete drag on the committee - she’s one of those people who doesn’t take responsibility or initiative, but is very quick to take credit, or make critiques. I vowed after that episode that never again would I work on committee with Sara.
Jane mentioned how Sara has “no money at all” and lives with her son, an ex-Marine. Said son is “very mean” to Sara, although Sara “does a lot” for her son (apparently this amounts to cooking and cleaning). Now, I’ve met Sara’s son, and he seems to be a very nice fellow. Granted, people “put on faces” all the time, and I can’t presume to know what the kid (about 28 or so) is like, but I could certainly understand harboring some resentment for having your mother living with you, cramping your style. Particularly if your mother happens to be Sara.
So anyway, Jane said she had been trying to get Sara to get a job, so she could pay her half of the rent like she and her son had agreed. I asked, “Doesn’t she work?” and Jane replied, “Well, she’s filled out some applications.” Oh. Jane even went so far as to say that she told Sara about the need the university (WSU) always has at the beginning of each semester for registrars. Sara called WSU to ask about this, and the university tried to arrange an interview. Sara (rather haughtily, as Jane tells it) asked, “Can’t you just do the interview on the phone?” “No, you’ll have to come down to do an in-person interview.” (Sara lives in the same town as WSU - Pullman.) “Well!” Sara huffed, “then I’m not interested!”
I held my tongue. I’ve known lots of Saras in my life. My little sister is a Sara. They’re the kind of people who think an income and employment are just due to them, and if it makes them go out of their way in any way, shape, or form, then they shouldn’t have to put up with it. I have zero patience for Saras.
Jane told me Sara was trying to get into subsidized housing projects. The housing guy is jerking Sara around, telling her there’s none available (probably because Sara’s made no efforts at self-sustaining, and this is a conservative area of the country despite the university). In fact, one day that guy was out and Sara ended up talking to another housing person, who told her there were several vacant places in the housing projects, and Sara should qualify for one. Sara never followed through.
Then Jane mentioned how she thought Sara should “get on welfare” because when her son left town, she’d be penniless and soon homeless. I couldn’t hold it in any more; I told Jane that I didn’t think Sara deserved welfare. “Welfare is supposed to be for people who need it, not people who are too lazy or who think they’re too good to go down for a job interview. Sara is able-bodied, and she should work.” That pretty much ended that conversation, since Jane is a very nice woman, but also a flaming liberal.
I’m pretty sure I made an impression on Jane, but I don’t care. I get so sick of people whining about how health coverage, housing, employment, food - all those things are OWED to people just for breathing and for their mothers having squatted them out on American soil. Whatever happened to DIGNITY and PRIDE and providing for yourself and your own? Jane laments that Sara is 60, like that makes her unemployable. Sara is in better shape at 60 than many 40 year olds, and the only thing keeping her from working is her attitude. Thing is, if she applied for welfare, she’d probably get it just because she’s been unemployed so long. That’s the kind of story that makes me want to scream.
Welfare sucks.
This is absolutely the saddest story I’ve read in quite some time.
An infant girl born with a second head bled to death Saturday after complex surgery to remove her partially formed twin, her parents and doctors said.
Her parents and her doctors had to make a very difficult decision, and my heart aches for the loss of little baby Rebeca.
Without an operation, Rebeca would have barely been able to lift her head at 3 months old. Her doctors said the pressure from the second head, attached on top of the first and facing up, would have prevented her brain from developing.
I wish her family the blessing of peace in their hour of greatest sorrow. This is the type of story that makes you count your blessings and review your life. My minor pregnancy complaints are utterly insignificant in light of the fact that my baby appears to be healthy and growing normally, and all three of my kids have so done. A little back pain is a very, very small price to pay for that enormous gift.
That’s it. I’m changing my name. I’m not “mama” anymore. I’m not telling ANYONE what my new name is, and it’s the only one I’m going to answer to anymore. SO THERE.
“Once the game is over, the King and the pawn go back in the same box.” - Italian Proverb
… I want to go here. That’s my friend Steve, by the way, who went on a cruise to the Bahamas.
What’s that? No, I’m naturally this shade of green.
“An intellectual is a man who takes more words than necessary to tell more than he knows.” - Dwight D. Eisenhower
It's been a busy couple of days for me. Wednesday afternoon, we went into town to do our regular errands. Things went well, though I was wiped out and had the beginnings of a backache by the time we were done. This is nothing new, and I suspect will be the trend from now through the end of this pregnancy. Wednesday night, I headed into Endicott for the BETA "girls' night out" dinner. It was pretty nice, though not as nice as last year, I think. Afterward, I drove into Pullman to see Along Came Polly - a most EXCELLENT and entertaining movie.
Thursday, I took the rugrats to preschool. They had a good time, but both needed a little more mom-time than usual. Kayla was just plain clingy, but seemed to mostly get over it when she discovered the substance table (filled with rice this week). Adam apparently got his fingers run over in gym time, got very quiet and withdrawn, and the teacher decided to bring him to me for some cuddling and consultation before returning him to his classroom for snacktime. It still went well, and that is, after all, why I stay on-site. After preschool we made our usual McDonald's run, a quick stop at the Rosauer's for their $1.69 cereal sale (I bought 20 boxes), a fillup at the gas station, then came home.
Today, I drove to the St. John clinic for an adjustment on my back with Dr. Lundberg. He was friendly, as always, and my back feels great. He taught me how to pop my sacroiliac joint back into place in case need be, but welcomed me to make another appointment if I couldn't make it work myself. He warned me that with my ligaments as loose as they are, this is likely to recur throughout the pregnancy. Whee!!!
“I like panty lines.
I think they’re damn sexy. They’re like little instruction sheets that say “put hands HERE".” - Harvey
And you thought YOU had a bad day!
Also, if I bled to death, they’d find my half naked sliced dicked self as soon as they came in the door. I spun the old boy around so that the bottom was now on top, and laid the barely attached flap of skin where it was supposed to go. Then I slowly sewed it into place.
Yep. You need to read the rest.
I cannot begin to tell you the kind of havoc that this would wreak on my family. My children are like little monkeys, in the way they love bananas. We Must. Save. Bananas. From Extinction. Call or write your Congresscritter today!
… to Josh. Ya big loser. ;)
Some interesting debate raging over at resurrectionsong about the best way to address funding for public schools. It presumes the notion that funding is really the core issue, but that’s beside the point I want to make. Rae, a homeschooling mom, makes this statement that was just too good not to share.
I have been accused frequently of “having enough money” to home educate. It is no different than being told I am “fortunate to make enough money to stay home with my children.” We don’t have many things people have, and those that we do, we have saved for them. Yes, we have made indiscriminate monetary decisions and are paying for them, but I gladly sacrifice my wage earning ability (and all the consuming power it lends) to focus on the children whose lives I grew in my body and nourished from my own breasts. I feel that shaping the lives of four females will be a greater contribution to the world; our country; our community; our neighborhood; and our family and theirs than I could have made to the economy or my husband’s wallet.
Paul of Heretical Ideaspoints to a story about a seven-year-old who was suspended for saying “hell” in school. Maybe I said that too fast. I’ll slow it down.
She’s seven.
She got suspended for a day.
For saying “hell.”
Granted, cursing in school isn’t to be allowed, but she told another student he would go to hell for saying “I swear to God.” She didn’t say, “What the hell are you doing, teacher?” Or “Who the hell do you think you are, Johnny?” Or even “Oh, go to Hell, you fat hog.” She warned a fellow student about something she thought was a real danger. To her, hell is a real place. It’d be just like she told him he was going to jail for being bad. This is a ridiculous ruling, and the school administrators should be ashamed.
“Anyone can do any amount of work provided it isn’t the work he is supposed to be doing at the moment.” - Robert Benchley
Ed has an interesting run-down on the differences between Bush and Kerry in their proposed respective wars on terrorism.
Kerry: When he says, “Bring it on,” he refers to President Bush, the RNC and Karl Rove.
Bush: When he said, “Bring it on,” he referred to terrorists seeking to disrupt the transformation of Iraq to a free, democratic state.
There’s more, of course.
Mike and I work in the same office all day long, with the children running around playing on their computers or making a ruckus with their toys, and we often chat and swap URLs via IM. Here’s a conversation we had today.
Dana: this
song makes me cry
Mike: then don’t listen to it
Dana: silly man
Mike: I will never understand women.
Dana: i might just go see a baby story*!
Dana: and you don’t need to understand women. you only need to understand me.
Dana: (and i’m going to blog this)
Mike: I don’t understand women OR you
Mike: it’s like “it hurts when I hit my thumb with the hammer, but I don’t want to stop”
Dana: that’s the thing… to men, crying = hurt
Dana: to women, sometimes crying just means feeling.
Dana: and feeling’s ok
* A Baby Story is one of those shows that is GUARANTEED to make me cry, especially when I’m pregnant. This is true regardless of the outcome of the story. Mike has threatened ((half-)jokingly) the block TLC during pregnancies.
And before anybody gets their panties in a twist, I realize that some of the statements we made could be construed as stereotypical or sexist. I don’t care.
Dean received one of his biggest ovations after a heckler asked what he’d do to reduce the abortion rate. He suggested universal health care for children, sex education that isn’t just abstinence-based, and finally, “We’re going to tell all those white boys who run the Republican Party to stay out of our bedrooms.”
OK, not only is that a patently racist, incendiary remark, it’s also the stupidest, most glib answer to a serious question I’ve ever heard come from a presidential candidate. What the hell does universal health care (hellooooo, socialism!) have to do with the abortion rate? I suppose you could say that sex education MIGHT prevent more unwanted births, but I seriously doubt that excluding abstinence from the education is going to have anything but disastrous effects.
Later in the speech, after being asked how Dean would reduce reliance on foreign oil, Dean said he’d push for universal car ownership, driver’s education that wasn’t speed-based, and finally, “We’re going to tell all those Ay-rab boys who run the gas stations to stay out of our oil tanks.”
Liberal Larry is at it again. This time he reports on Dean’s swing through Seattle (too damn close to me for my comfort, I tell ya). He had this to say:
Dean’s words were suddenly cut off as all the lights in the auditorium went out, along with the sound system, and Congressman McDermott’s electric beanie. Someone lit up a cigarette lighter and waved it above his head, causing several audience members to shout “Tracers!” and pass out. Luckily, the Good Doctor obtained a battery-powered megaphone and was able to continue his momentous speech for those of us still conscious.
[…]
Taking his cue, Dean thanked everyone, borrowed some cab fare, and headed off to the next stop on his campaign trail. I stayed for the Laser Floyd show and then went home, walking on air.
Just when you think he’s winding down, he tosses in that “borrowed some cab fare” bit and I was falling out of my chair laughing. Luckily, I was unhurt.
Politburo Diktat has a
deck of cards featuring dangerous bloggers.
In a shockingly appopriate move by the Commissar, I was indicated on
the queen of spades. I immediately wondered how the Commissar had
figured it out. Clearly, he has a very capable cracker within the
party, since I waste spend hours each week playing that very game!
I don’t know how he found out, but I clearly need to take better steps
at masking my Internet movings-about. Wouldn’t want the Commissar to
publicize where I spend most of my surfing time. ;)
My back is slowly getting better. I'm able to do some housework now. Yesterday, for example, I did two loads of dishes (finally have those caught up, and keeping them caught up), a load of laundry, baked a loaf of banana bread, cooked dinner, and moved some living room furniture around so that the TV was more accessible, and I could watch TV while I quilted. Today, I folded and put away a couple loads of laundry, did some more dishes, and FINALLY got the bathmats into the wash. (Please don't ask how long it's been.) I also cleaned off my desk (preparing to arrange it for my scrapbooking stuff). Most of today has gone toward QuiltIndex mailings, though, as is usual on the first of the month.
The kids are doing great. Well, right this moment Kayla is pissed off and screaming because she got woken from a nap, but other than that... things are peachy!
