A Few Observations

It's a bit before 3am, and I just got off watch. I'm not tired enough to hallucinate, so I'm hoping, when I do remember writing this, it'll actually have some coherent train of thought. We'll see....

First off, I'd like to put up a disclaimer. None of this relates to my day - these are just some things which occurred to me either during my watch or on the walk back to the barracks afterward.

Now that the formalities are out of the way, on to the main course. Take all of these with a grain of salt, and judge their validity/sanity for yourself.

Not only is it possible to be alone in a crowd, but it is entirely possibly to be alone in a group of your closest friends.

Human nature dictates we're least content when most prosperous. We thrive on difficulty. When life goes too easy on us, we give ourselves obstacles and - depending on one's personality - either overcome them or are swallowed up.

As a corollary to the above, we are simultaneously at our best and worst when those around us fail or struggle. We need to have peers in the dirt as emotional stepping stones - as a way to boost our own self worth. Once we've lifted ourselves high enough, we either keep moving and don't look back, or we turn around and pull those who're sinking back up to safety.

Lastly, three rules to live by:

1. Never make another person's day any more difficult than absolutely necessary.
2. As long as it doesn't violate Rule #1, do whatever it takes to get through the day.
3. As long as Rules #1 and #2 are maintained, never judge another's actions too harshly.

Now that I've spent 15 minutes wasting the internet's time, I think it's time for bed.

Carry on.

Scrooge had it right

As most of you probably know (or have guessed), I hate this time of year. I'm quite vocal about my distaste for the holidays, and have never apologized for it.

Now for the meat of this post.

If you're wondering why I'm such a wet blanket on the holiday season, you need look no further than the following news article (taken from Reuters):

NEW YORK (Reuters) - A man working for Wal-Mart was killed on
Friday when a throng of shoppers surged into a Long Island, New York, store and
physically broke down the doors, a police spokesman said.

The
34-year-old man was at the entrance of the Valley Stream Walmart store just
after it opened at 5 a.m. local time and was knocked to the ground, the police
report said.

The exact cause of death was still to be determined by a
medical examiner.

Four shoppers, including a 28-year-old pregnant woman,
were also taken to local hospitals for injuries sustained in the incident,
police said.

Wal-Mart said it was saddened by the death of the man, who
was working for a temporary employment agency serving the discount retailer, and
by the injuries suffered by shoppers.

"The safety and security of our
customers and associates is our top priority," the world's largest retailer said
in a statement. It said the incident was still under investigation and referred
any other inquiries to local police.

The Friday after America's
Thanksgiving holiday is known a Black Friday and marks what is traditionally the
busiest retail day of the year, kicking off the Christmas shopping season.

U.S. stores across the country opened in the early hours of Friday to
offer discounts to consumers hit by a contracting economy. Hundreds of shoppers
waited on line before dawn at some locations to secure deals on holiday gifts.

(Reporting by Michele Gershberg; Editing by Daniel Trotta and Sandra
Maler)

Turn the page...

Well, I've finally made up my mind.

I'm joining the navy. I've been talking to Misty and my family, and, after allaying all fears, have secured their blessings.

I'll be doing MEPS next Thursday and Friday, and (hopefully) heading to Michigan for bootcamp in early June.

If that's the case, you probably won't hear from me until around year's end. I hope you'll understand why.

The Retrosexual Code

(I'm posting this for archival purposes, but feel free to read)

The Retrosexual Code
(Taken from here)

OK folks, I have had it. I've taken all I can stand and I can't stand no more. Every time my TV is on, all that can be seen is effeminate men prancing about, redecorating houses and talking about foreign concepts like "style" and "feng shui." Heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, transsexual, metrosexual, non-sexual; blue, green, and purple-sexual bogus definitions have taken over the urban and suburban world!

Real men of the world, stand up, scratch your butt, belch, and yell "ENOUGH!" I hereby announce the start of a new offensive in the culture wars, the Retrosexual movement.

The Code:

A Retrosexual, no matter what the women insists, PAYS FOR THE DATE.

A Retrosexual opens doors for a lady. Even for the ones that fit that term only because they are female.

A Retrosexual DEALS with IT, be it a flat tire, break-in into your home, or a natural disaster, you DEAL WITH IT.

A Retrosexual not only eats red meat, he often kills it himself.

A Retrosexual doesn't worry about living to be 90. It's not how long you live, but how well. If you're 90 years old and still smoking cigars and drinking, I salute you.

A Retrosexual does not use more hair or skin products than a woman. Women have several supermarket aisles of stuff. Retrosexuals need an endcap (possibly 2 endcaps if you include shaving goods).

A Retrosexual does not dress in clothes from Hot Topic when he's 30 years old.

A Retrosexual should know how to properly kill stuff (or people) if need be.

This falls under the "Dealing with IT" portion of The Code.

A Retrosexual watches no TV show with "Queer" in the title.

A Retrosexual does not let neighbors screw up rooms in his house on national TV.

A Retrosexual should not give up excessive amounts of manliness for women.

Some is inevitable, but major reinvention of yourself will only lead to you becoming a frou-frou little puss, and in the long run, she ain't worth it.

A Retrosexual is allowed to seek professional help for major mental stress such as drug/alcohol addiction, death of your entire family in a freak tree chipper accident, favorite sports team being moved to a different city, favorite bird dog expiring, etc. You are NOT allowed to see a shrink because Daddy didn't pay you enough attention. Daddy was busy DEALING WITH IT. When you screwed up, he DEALT with you.

A Retrosexual will have at least one outfit in his wardrobe designed to conceal himself from prey.

A Retrosexual knows how to tie a Windsor knot when wearing a tie - and ONLY a Windsor knot.

A Retrosexual should have at least one good wound he can brag about getting.

A Retrosexual knows how to use a basic set of tools. If you can't hammer a nail, or drill a straight hole, practice in secret until you can - or be rightfully ridiculed for the wuss you be.

A Retrosexual knows that owning a gun is not a sign that your are riddled with fear, guns are TOOLS and are often essential to DEAL WITH IT. Plus it's just plain fun to shoot.

Crying. There are very few reason that a Retrosexual may cry, and none of them have to do with TV commercials, movies, or soap operas. Sports teams are sometimes a reason to cry, but the preferred method of release is swearing or throwing the remote control. Some reasons a Retrosexual can cry include (but are not limited to) death of a loved one, death of a pet (fish do NOT count as pets in this case), loss of a major body part.

A Retrosexual man's favorite movie isn't "Maid in Manhattan" (unless that refers to some foxy French maid sitting in a huge tub of brandy or whiskey), or "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood." Acceptable ones may include any of the Dirty Harry or Nameless Drifter movies (Clint in his better days), Rambo I or II, the Dirty Dozen, The Godfather trilogy, Scarface, The Road Warrior, The Die Hard series, Caddyshack, Rocky I, II, or III, Full Metal Jacket, any James Bond Movie, Raging Bull, Bullitt, any Bruce Lee movie, Apocalypse Now, Goodfellas, Reservoir Dogs, Fight Club, etc.etc.

When a Retrosexual is on a crowded bus and or a commuter train, and a pregnant woman, hell, any woman gets on, that Retrosexual stands up and offers his seat to that woman, then looks around at the other so-called men still in their seats with a disgusted "you punks" look on his face.

A Retrosexual knows how to say the Pledge properly, and with the correct emphasis and pronunciation. He also knows the words to the Star Spangled Banner.

A Retrosexual will have hobbies and habits his wife and mother do not understand, but that are essential to his manliness, in that they offset the acceptable manliness decline he suffers when married/engaged in a serious healthy relationship - i.e., hunting, boxing, shot putting, shooting, cigars, car maintenance.

A Retrosexual knows how to sharpen his own knives and kitchen utensils.

A Retrosexual man can drive in snow (hell, a blizzard) without sliding all over or driving under 20 mph, without anxiety, and without high-centering his ride on a plow berm.

A Retrosexual man can chop down a tree and make it land where he wants.

Wherever it lands is where he damn well wanted it to land.

A Retrosexual will give up his seat on a bus to not only any women but any elderly person or person in military dress (except officers above 2nd Lt)

NOTE: The person in military dress may turn down the offer but the Retrosexual man will ALWAYS make the offer to them and thank them for serving their country.

A Retrosexual man doesn't need a contract -- a handshake is good enough. He will always stand by his word even if circumstances change or the other person deceived him.

A Retrosexual man doesn't immediately look to sue someone when he does something stupid and hurts himself. We understand that sometimes in the process of doing things we get hurt and we just DEAL WITH IT.

What do you think?

No updates lately. Been too busy with school, work, holidays, and a metric fuckton of everything else. Anxiety's been coming back full-force. I keep picturing myself with a pack of cigarettes, and not in a negative way. Suffice it to say shit's been hectic lately.

By the end of next semester, I'll be a junior in college, and possibly transferring to UC Davis. Keep your fingers crossed.

Going to bed. For now, I leave you with this.

Something I can't name

Just got the kids to bed, and now I'm sitting here, running the musical gamut. Yep, everything from Joe Cocker and Johnny Cash to Sisters of Mercy and Type O Negative.

Before you ask, no, I'm not depressed. I'm actually in a pretty good mood.

That being said, I can't figure out what I'm feeling right now. I think the closest I can get is "reflective" (no, not the bright-orange kind), but even that's a stretch.

I really don't know why I'm writing; maybe I just need to keep my mind occupied. It's been a long time since I let my brain really open up onto a piece of paper (or a screen, for that matter) Maybe this is just relieving the pressure. Frankly, I'm way too afraid of my own mind and what would come out, should I give it free reign.

Anyway, smile again.

There're fifty voices doing fifty things in my head right now (including the one who's singing along to Joe Cocker), and it's really an effort to focus on what I'm writing right now.

Maybe it's a sign that I'll start writing again on a semi-regular basis (god help us all). Then again, it could just be me needing a few hours of solid sleep. Either way, I'll take what I'm given and run with it.

Joe's singing Elton now. Kinda disturbing. Come on reader, name the song, if you can.


The question I keep asking, and the question that never gets an answer, is "Why do I keep doing this?" Why do I keep writing? Frankly, most of this stuff is senseless crap, and the rest is just me rubbing my ego on a couch cushion, trying to get my jollies. Yeah, people tell me they read this. My readership has grown to a whopping three people.

Yet I keep trying. Keep hiking a leg up and rocking back n' forth, trying to squeeze one more out.

Fuck this. I'm off to bed. Night cats n' kittens.

Ann Coulter - The Republican Answer to Howard Stern

If you haven't seen this little AC gem, you have to watch it.

Ann Coulter on Donny Deutsch

Donny makes the mistake of asking Ann what the world would be like if she were running things.

Among other things, she says it would "be happy and everyone would get along, like New York City during the Republican National Convention". And to put the icing on this fruitcake, she suggests "jews would be 'perfected' into christians".

Wow.

For starters, I'm not partial to any particular theology (those that know me would agree), so any antisemitics out there can save their breath. That being said, I can't believe a demented person like this is allowed to develop into a political celebrity of this level. She's churning out books like babies from a welfare mother, and grabbing the pulpit at every church she can.

I think the clincher was when she was suprised that Donny (a practicing Jew) was offended by her statement. Ok Ann, you just implied that several million Jews are inferior to Christians, along with blatantly insulting the foundations of their faith, and you have the audacity to act suprised when one gets offended??


I can't believe this woman is able to write her own name. The fact that (presumably) millions of people feel she has "the right idea" scares me beyond belief.