poetic spam

I got my first bit of spam mail at work today. MMMmmmmmm spam...
Work had been the last electronic bastion against the spam golems. (hey, at least I didn't say anything about a cosmic entrepeneur, or negotiating with myself.. ewwww...)

The spam I got was one of those advertisements with randomly generated messages. I've gotten then at home a few times, and as annoying as they are, i get a little bit of a kick out of them anyway.

The subject of this one was "facets of the I found you info on the net"

intriguing already, isn't it??? well maybe not, but I'm pretty easily amused.

The body of the text says;
"
possibly,
neurotic idiosyncratic normal in primitive the rejection
culture illness may be definition physiological or
to end what dysfunctionality.
This his reality schizophreniform psychosis a
interpreted is collegeage the indigenous
him consistency often normal in primitive
term features The ability to apprehend
Trisha Slabaugh"


Now I don't know who this Trisha person is. I imagine she's some sort of prophet or Seer. I googled her and got nothing. But at least now I know that I'm "often normal in primitive term". I always suspected as much, but now I know...

evil evil toaster

Vociferous voices

I found out that my toaster is sentient this morning. Sentient, and maybe just a little bit evil. I put my toast in, and I sit there, looking at it, waiting for the toast to pop. Because you know that there is nothing worse than trying to spread cold butter on cooling toast. It ruins the whole piece of toast! Come on, you know it... you've ranted and cursed and gnashed your teeth as our silver cutlery crumbles and shreds that white toasted plane.

And here's what my toaster does. It waits... it watches.... as I glare and mutter under my breathe "pop mother fucker. pop"

ahhhh but the toaster is patient. And as soon as I reach to do somethin, something that takes two hands and cannot be dropped quickly. Something like taking hot oatmeal out of the microwave.

POP!

Up comes the toast as I fumble around, putting down the oatmeal, scrambling for a knife, scraping off some butter.... but alas, it's too late. That crucial moment has passed and my perfect piece of honey'd toast is ruined.

And it was planned. There was thought put into this waste.

With my next piece of bread-become-toast I waited. I didn't pick up anything, I didn't turn my back. I waited like the patient toast predator that I am. And it burned! It burned before it popped!

Okay, one more test. This time I put the toast in, and with breakfast-ninja like relexes i spin, snatching the milk from the fridge, balancing my bowl on my box of wheat chex, and glide towards the table, the toast hasn't been down for 15 seconds yet...

and POP! the toast... or bread still actually, is up. I have no choice but to waste those few crucial moments of perfect "toasted freshness" when the butter would have melted off the knife like summer sun off a red playground slide, while I put down my cereal, my milk and my bowl.

So now I know.... that my toaster is alive, and harbors some sort of grudge against me.

Tomorrow... the invisible faeries that make me drop things in the morning. Oddly enough they go away after I start drinking coffee....

Vociferous voices

Vociferous voices

Wanna get upset about something? Read this.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/programmes/this_world/4038375.stm

I'm so sick of the whole "we're right because we're us" mentality. Like because we are the united states we are infallible. We've stopped examining out own actions. We've slid into this lazy state of mind where we just assume that we are the moral high ground and anything we do is beyond question. This is so wrong, and what's behind it? The same sickness that is spreading through out the U.S. It's in our politics, it's in our healthcare, it's in every aspect of our day to day lives.

It's the dehumanization of our population. It's turning people into test subjects, or marketing numbers. The loss of all sympathy and compassion. And how that get's aligned with the moral right? It's just beyond comprehension.

YFORUM

Wow... I still think it's a good site. But if you go there, be ready.. Some of the things are gonna tick you off. The sheer level of ignorance and intolerance some people have. It makes me shake with rage and frustration at the same time. Here's an example of one tha I was very very tempted to let loose on. But I didn't. I'm goign to wait until I can formulate something a little more rational and a little less angry.

"Category: Sexual Orientation
Subject: First holding hands, now marriage
Reply: (read original message)I think it's an outrage that gay people want to have the same rights to marriage that straight people do. Back in the 1930s, there was no such thing as gay people. If you were gay, you kept it to yourself because someone could kill you and they're only defense would be, he was gay. Then in the 1970s you saw everything - whores, gay people, people just walking around nude. Gay guys who just had hundreds of partners a night. And thus this is where society discovered AIDS. So now gay people can be gay, someone can know about it, they can even walk down the street and hold hands with another gay man and have no fear of what's going to happen. But alas, that's still not good enough. Gay people want their own schools and, most appalling, the right to marry. Why is it that I can't go to an all-Christian school for free, but gay people can go to an all-gay school? I think it's sad that we've become this type of society.POSTED 1/25/2004Renee, Clinton, MD, United States, Female, Christian, Black/African American, Straight, Technical School, Lower middle class, Mesg ID 1172004105850"

yforum

I found this little site. I heard about it on a radio talk show and thought I'd do my part to spread the word. I'ts honest questions and honest answers. It's not a political site. The questions are more of the race, sex, age, sexual orientation type. You post a question that you have, but haven't been comfortable asking, and then you look to see if there are any you can reply to. I'll admit, that being a middle age over weight white guy... there weren't many questions that I could answer.

http://www.yforum.com/

watchya lookin' at!?

here, I want to see if this cut and paste icon to my little yahoo group with only 23 posts works. It's pretty inactive, but I still like it as a good place to keep all my favorite links accessible form anyplace with web access.


Click to join thisredrock

turkey turkey turkey turkey turkey turkey turkey

... and the chaos begins.

Sarah's parents arrived while we were still into he shower. Sarah's Mom seems happier than before, a little more relaxed than I remember seeing her. She just getting over being sick for quite a while. Kidney stones, and infections, and dehydration and a whole cornucopia of unwellness. SO maybe she's just on a "feeling better" high. -found out later that she was on Oxycodone the whole time... she could have at least shared.

There's a tension between her and Roger, Sarah's Dad. It's almost a visible line pulled tight between them.

I know that the past months have been hard for him. Very hard. The past year maybe even.

He lost his job when the factory closed. Wasn't able to find work, not for lack of trying, i'll attest to that. And ended up on disability. But medicare hasn't kicked in yet, and even when it does it's going to leave a lot left over.

And he's been told time and time again that he's not insurable.

Add to that the incompetent doctors that Margie has, and her utter -nearly religious- devotion to their folly.

I admire him imensely for staying sane thus far: I don't think I would have been able to.

And Sarah is stressed, and she gets... well short... when she is stressed. Kinda rude even sometimes. It's hard to stay angry at her for it though. When the frenzied fog lifts she's sorry, and harder on herself than any guilt trip I could lay down.

So you've got these three, as well as Ashley, all in our little kitchen. And Ashley is like the catalyst in a reaction that you really don't want to take place. She hasn't quite figured out how to talk and do anything else at the same time. And she hasn't quite picked up the "not talking" skill yet. Her monologues are never ending.

So either Sarah or I are constantly telling her to "stop talking, start eating", "stop talking, start getting dressed," stop talking, start brushing," "stop talking and get in the car," "for heaven's sake stop talking and remember to breathe!"

Sarah didn't loose it though, kudos to her for that. And at about a quarter after 9:00 I took Ashley to church for the dress rehearsal. Leaving Sarah, her Mom and her Dad at home with the turkey. And now i'm a little nervous about that.

It gived me an hour in fellowship hall w/ my coffee and 2 slices of cranberry bread though.

Enough time to jot down the day thus far....

The children's program was honestly fun. Does that mean I'm old?



We were the featured family this week, so all three fo us stood in front of the church while a little piece about us was read.

It was our internet coming out. The first time we have really confessed that to more than our closest friends that we met online.

Oh, there were a couple little bumps in the pageant. When Ashley was trying to adjust the mic in the middle of the hshow she smacked herself on the lip. She held it together for a good 5-10 seconds before running off the stage to us in the pew crying.

But before the end of the song her tears were wiped on my shortsleeve, her nose was blown in a slightly used kleenex, and she was back onstage.

We got home, I carved the turkey, Sarah's Mom made stuffing, Sarah made her famous mashed patatos, and steamed veggies, and we all sat down to a veritable feast.

I ate enough for three meals, maybe more.

We opened gifts, and Sarah's parents took off a little after 4:00.

We watched Star Wars and then the Simpsons, and then Desperate housewives.

Wow, we're lazy lazy bums. And now I can't believe that the weekend is over alread...