Still on the Jo Koy Train

Why is his mom so friggin' awesome?



Get him a cookie!!!



I'm a bitch, man.

Laughing is Good for the Soul

Jo Koy = funny as fuck; i love his mom--his very Filipino mom.



KT Tatara = myth; just because it's against the law of nature to be that cute and that funny...(smart as fuck, too!)



Eric Hutchinson = not a stand-up comic, definitely talented (can't stop listening to his songs: All Over Now, Oh, Food Chain, and so on...; JT got PWND!



ENJOY.

Arrow Prayers

Dear God, help me make it through this day. I'm not feeling well and there's still a mountain of tasks to finish.

Dear God, please watch over my loved ones. Keep them safe and let them always feel your presence in their lives.

Dear God, grant me the patience to deal with my problems...if not patience then the strength to be silent. Grant me peace as well, to successfully enclose myself in that silence.

Dear God, bridge the gaps in my understanding, for today more than any other day I am feeling what it means to be human.

Dear God, just be with me in this moment.

Pix Credit: http://unsoundtransient.deviantart.com/art/prayer-58067877

Myths

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Deep down, I have always known that knights in shining armor and charming princes astride white horses can't possibly exist, at least not in this--my dimension. And in the interest of being pragmatic, I have always betted on the guy who tells me he'll get his shit together and come through for me, for us. And I have never questioned this as anything other than the law of nature, self-evident and intrinsically worthwhile.

But now, I am forced to rethink every single thing I have held to be true. And all of it debunks the myths I have culled from years of playing by the rules of the Human Interaction Stock Exchange.

Needless to say, I am utterly lost, totally, without a doubt lost. And it's too late to send out a distress call. The world, as far as I'm concerned, has shut itself off. I have yet to discover hope, to learn the nuances of faith, to understand the magic, if not the futility of miracles.

Reincarnated

How you said, "Next time, I promise to love you first."
And how you told me, "I will look for you and you cannot hide from me."
Or how you stared into my eyes as if to say, "Not even lifetimes can keep us apart."

I believed it all.

How I waited. And waited some more.
Because here I was, and there you were.
So close and yet worlds apart.

Cognitive Dissonance

I think that it's unfair to burden me with your expectations. I'm not nor would I ever be the perfect girl. My flaws--they number by the thousands and multiply by the second, which in time would exponentially saw off the edges of our souls.

The package, you see, is deceiving. The littlest eyes that hide behind the glasses, they process people, pets, plants, streets, and groceries by a five-minute filtering system, devoid of political correctness or any belief system.

And the challenge for you, is not to reconcile what you uphold to be real with what is. The challenge is to stay, just stay until you have mapped out the paradoxes, the inner cathedral of my being.

The challenge is to stop leaving. Stop leaving and stay with me...

Love Will Keep Us Together

"Have you been gargling with bong water?"

"Love to! Love the bag, love the shoes, love everything. Love to!" (Okay, this one is actually from My Best Friend's Wedding, but what the heck, I love this clip.)

Quoterized

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quote. –verb (used with object)
to repeat (a passage, phrase, etc.) from a book, speech, or the like, as by way of authority, illustration, etc. (quote. Dictionary.com. Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Random House, Inc. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/quote (accessed: June 01, 2008).)

cauterize. –verb (used with object), -ized, -iz·ing.
to burn with a hot iron, electric current, fire, or a caustic, esp. for curative purposes; treat with a cautery. (cauterize. Dictionary.com. Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Random House, Inc. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/cauterize (accessed: June 01, 2008).)

1. There was a moment last night, when she was sandwiched between the two Finnish dwarves and the Maori tribesmen, where I thought, "Wow, I could really spend the rest of my life with this woman."--Zoolander

2. I happen to know everything there is to know about maple syrup. I love maple syrup! I love maple syrup on pancakes, I love it on pizza! I love to take maple syrup and put a little bit in my hair when I've had a rough week. What do you think holds it up slick?--Wedding Crashers

3. Dude, I service society by rocking. I’m out there on the front lines liberating people with my music. Rocking ain’t no walk in the park, lady.--School of Rock

4. "Heart... miles and miles of heart."--The Replacements

5. Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.--Princess Bride

(quoterized v.2. to follow)

AN: Pix totally unrelated to the post...

Synthesis

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You are not much different from the others. Of course, you claim to be special, the antithesis of every man, who has come before you. But let me tell you this...your being different, your being special, I have no use for these things. True, I may not know if it will be sooner or later. But I am quite sure that in the end, you will say the same thing, "I am just a man." And you will leave. And you will wish that you did not say how different you are. And you will be sorry for the efforts you have invested to make me believe in you. And I will cry, yet again. Because maybe, just maybe, I am still like every woman--trying uncertain things at the cost of everything.

Reposted: The Love Letter That Couldn't Write Itself

Words have never failed me. In fact, my biggest consolation in life is that I can always articulate what I know, how I feel and who I am at any point, any way, any junction of life as it unfolds before me. I have never had a problem with searching for the right words, they find me instead, sometimes none too subtly.

My guess is that my writing muse abandoned me, not when I met you, but because I let you take over her space in my head. I imagine her pain as i let the auteur in me slowly atrophy, to a point beyond recognition. You overwhelmed me with emotions and caused me to exist outside myself, the self that delights in weaving yarns and expressing the soul. You were context and subtext, every theme and reason. I was consumed in all the wrong places, robbed of sanity and speech. And only in the cruelest hand of fate, will retaliation be exacted upon me. I cannot be regretful enough for my muse to forgive me. And she has served me with enough ironic sense to let me write you a letter that chokes upon writing itself...I cannot help but try.

And so, a thousand considerations blur the peripheries of my lucidity. I begin to feel physically ill as I struggle through emotions I couldn't identify. The onerous task of projecting thoughts to paper is one that I never feared before. I wanted to dispense with the cliches, the sentimentality, the sheer banality of it all. But there's a greater need for me to have you realize, to have you experience--even for a moment, the chaos in me. For how could you know that you are the axis of my world...That my need to exist is eclipsed by my need for you. Didn't you know that my happiness hinges upon your understanding? If this letter fails, the dam that holds my pain in will break and my soul will shatter.

Newfound Appreciation for Noel Gallagher

I have been listening to this song (this particular version) for two weeks.

I may be developing Asperger's syndrome.

Noel is my new Barney...

Putting LOA to the Test

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Happiness is just a few days away.

And it's all because of my renewed faith in the universe.

Besotted

When I'm profoundly drunk, I like to believe I'm a better person than I truly am. I like to pretend that all the meaningless things I have done, are nothing but natural effects to natural causes. I like to delude myself into thinking that I am much smarter in person, even if reality tells a different story...that I have as much appeal as peeling wallpaper. And that come the daylight, I will sober up and realize how much of a lie I AM.

Pix Credit: http://autumns-lament.deviantart.com/art/Alcoholic-79376700

Office Politics

Okay, a) this is nothing at all like my current work situation, b) but it does remind me of my first boss--kinda spot on, actually, c) except for the "I AM THIS CLOSE TO RAPING YOU" part, d) which is not to say that the trident incident never happened...because it did, only I was stabbed 15 times instead of Tarkanian's 33.

Stream of Consciousness V.2

because my Yahoo 360 blog is dead...


Thursday October 12, 2006 - 09:51pm

It's never gonna happen for us. For some reason, we totally missed the window of opportunity there. The timing's never right, or maybe I'm never ever right. Either way, I need something more to hold onto, and you need something, something that's not me. I'm hardly ever self-sacrificing, but we've been at it for years. We hint at possibilities and we toy at the idea of the idea of a relationship, but somehow I doubt if I'm ever gonna be on the same page as you are. I'm essentially damaged, tragically flawed. And you tell me you wanna take that on, but how can I in good conscience, let you. It's just never gonna happen for us and I'm really, really sorry.

Saturday October 28, 2006 - 12:38pm

This is the guy I wanna marry:
He's lazy, he's a brilliant tactician and I never thought I'll use those words in the same sentence. Nara shikamaru is 60 points more brilliant than me and the only way I can get him interested in me is if I reincarnate as a logic problem. He's not motivated at all to do anything. I'd be content just to watch the clouds roll by with him. I heart Shikamaru.

Wednesday December 20, 2006 - 02:53pm

I realize that gratitude is a process, not complicated, sure, but it can never be formulaic--doing so will only negate its significance. These days, I'm learning that being thankful requires effort, patience and grace--three things that can only be sourced from above. One thing I know today is that acceptance is more than the end stage in the grieving process, it is actually a subset of gratefulness...

*toying with the idea of resurrecting the dead*

20/20 Vision

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"Men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses," so said Dorothy Parker because...

well, frankly I have no freaking clue. Maybe she got so traumatized by an encounter with a meganekko. Who the hell knows? Still, if her wikistub is to be believed (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dorothy_Parker), and that really is her with the ridiculously ginormous hat, then I would have to assume that a) the stupid thing is impairing her sense of humor or b) her sense of humor is fully intact and the statement above was uttered satirically. In which case, I would seriously urge all the girls who wear glasses to march or simply burn said glasses. Of course, that wouldn't help our case at all, but the point is...

long lost, which can be said for all my random randomosities and inane musings. I don't really care, after all Holden (Caulfield) "prefers digression."

Lurker

If people knew how much I constantly watch them, they'd make sure I was locked in a padded cell...

Preference Versus Possibilities

I prefer Wislawa to Sylvia and believe in all the possibilities implied by that preference...

Tortures
By W. Szymborska

Nothing has changed.
The body is susceptible to pain,
it must eat and breathe air and sleep,
it has thin skin and blood right underneath,
an adequate stock of teeth and nails,
its bones are breakable, its joints are stretchable.
In tortures all this is taken into account.

Nothing has changed.
The body shudders as it shuddered
before the founding of Rome and after,
in the twentieth century before and after Christ.
Tortures are as they were, it's just the earth that's grown smaller,
and whatever happens seems right on the other side of the wall.

Nothing has changed. It's just that there are more people,
besides the old offenses new ones have appeared,
real, imaginary, temporary, and none,
but the howl with which the body responds to them,
was, is and ever will be a howl of innocence
according to the time-honored scale and tonality.

Nothing has changed. Maybe just the manners, ceremonies, dances.
Yet the movement of the hands in protecting the head is the same.
The body writhes, jerks and tries to pull away,
its legs give out, it falls, the knees fly up,
it turns blue, swells, salivates and bleeds.

Nothing has changed. Except for the course of boundaries,
the line of forests, coasts, deserts and glaciers.
Amid these landscapes traipses the soul,
disappears, comes back, draws nearer, moves away,
alien to itself, elusive, at times certain, at others uncertain of its own existence,
while the body is and is and is
and has no place of its own.

Auction (a.k.a Sold to the Wimpy Guy Wearing a Trucker Cap)

While in this lifetime, I'll never be anything other than a writer, I am convinced that I'll make a good auctioneer--who knows, maybe in the 25th century. Seriously, my experience in fleshing out a character ought to come in handy during those bids. Of course, with my personality I'm much more suited to the atmosphere of livestock auctions, rather than Sotheby's. Still, it makes for an interesting (not to mention rather unusual) career choice. And there's nothing more appealing to me than the "unusual." Heck, my whole life has been (and still is) a testament to the wonders of the "unusual."

And so, without further ado, please enjoy this clip.



AN: I disclaim. And yes, I can also sell things "to the man with the bigger breasts." Toodles!

Fuzzy Memories

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Me: I get it. Fan of self-flagellation, are you?
You: Get over yourself. I'm here because I see you're looking a bit dead behind the eyes.
Me: Sure, you are. I don't recall ever asking for a rescuer.
You: Suit yourself. I hate rabid fan girls anyway.
Me: Oh, I hope you're not talking about me, Mr. Pornographer.
You: You're calling me, Mr. Pornographer? That's rich.
Me: And true. Don't forget true.
You: Only if you admit that you're in denial.
Me: In denial about what?
You: Your everlasting love for my person.
Me: If by your person, you mean disgusting pig with the sensitivity of a dumb bell...
You: Just admit it.
Me: I'll admit to your stupidity. In fact, I'll vouch for it.
You: Fine. I'll give you this round. But only because I'm convinced you harbor such strong feelings for me.
Me: You are psychotic and you should get your head examined.
You: Wow. You really, REALLY like me.
Me: End of conversation.
You: Next time, there'll be tears.
Me: You wish, idiot.
You: Buh-bye now, fangirl. I'll look forward to our next battle.
Me: You're still an idiot.
You: We'll see.

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