If I had lots of free time, and was living in the US, I would establish a secret underground society of hobos. After all, there's a lot of them, they're all pretty much crazy and will believe whatever you say, and working together they would eat better and be safer, plus get a feeling of belonging, so assuming they aren't too loony, they'll probably join. Anyways, I would convince them all that Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes' baby is the anti-christ. By this point the organization would be nationwide and would have organized a covert intelligence operation. I would use this to find out where tommy boy is birthing his spawn. Then I would organize a giant hobo revolt. They would bum rush the hospital, and start yelling all sorts of strange obscenities, take the baby, and yell strange things at it, like "Vaginas will bite your dick off," or, "Satan enjoys a refreshing game of badminton" (Of course, I would tell the hobos that these were secret code-phrases that would exorcise the anti-christ from the child). Then, I would have the hobos draw a pentagram on the ground and put the baby in the center with candles all around. Then we would scatter into the darkness (like ninjas)!!!
What's the point you may ask? Well, I'm about to tell you, stupid, so shut up while I reveal the meaning of my master plan. Tom Cruise's idiot "religion" told him that you have to be COMPLETELY silent while giving birth and in the first few minutes of birth, or else the baby will remember whatever is said and associate it with childbirth, and that will somehow allow evil spirits to get in...riiiight. SO, if the Hobo Resistance Army says a bunch of wierd shit to the baby as soon as it gets out, and then he grows up normal (albiet a spoiled little shit, since he's the son of Tom Cruise), maybe THEN Tom Cruise will realize Scientology is for MORONS.
P.S. Hobo-ninjas would be AWESOME. Remind me to do that too.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Friday, March 16, 2007
Relax, Impatient Bitches.
People need to chill out. I am tired of everyone getting up in my space and making me uncomfortable in their endless quest to rush around and use up every second of every day doing nothing of importance. Mostly I don´t really care what other people do with their time, it´s when their shitty attitude affects me that I get pissed.
Case in point: I was walking towards the side entrance to the computer lab on my campus, past this big set of metal doors that swings open--very slowly--to let cars into the private parking lot. Well, as I went to walk by there, a car showed up and the doors started to open. I shuffled past, and the damn car revved its engine to go in, only to stop a second later because the door still hadn´t opened enough to let the guy´s car in. This guy is a moronic unthinking idiot. He is so used to pushing his way past other people to "get ahead" in life, that he now does it instinctually . Essentially the message he is conveying here is: "You should not have crossed in front of me in my big, powerful car. You stood in my way, and the .3 seconds you cost me to wait for you isn´t justified, because I am much more important than you. My day would have been better had you not existed." This subtle act conveys the whole of human self-centeredness and lack of concern for others.
Here´s another example: you are waiting on the bus, and your stop is coming up. You get up to go towards the exit door, but some guy who is also leaving pushes past you to get to the door. Even though it is obvious to any idiot with any IQ of 90 that you´re both going to get to the bus station at the same time, apparently this guy is desparate to get off the bus first. You see it all the time here in Spain. This country is fully of pushy old people who don´t say excuse me as they shove you over so they can wait by the door for a minute or two before they actually get to their stop, creating traffic jams and blocking you in. It´s really quite pathetic that people are so wired to "come first" in life that they will make an effort to be rude to you so they can get off a second earlier than you, because if they are the first one in line, then that means they win at life.
Honestly, people need to stop being mindless cattle, slow down, and start enjoying life and thinking about what it all means, and stop worrying about the petty details. I see people get so preoccupied with the pettiest little things all day long, or do nothing but preoccupy themselves with achieving more and more with their career all the time, that they ignore thinking about what it all means and never appreciate the miracle that it all is. Who, then, is really wasting whose time?
Case in point: I was walking towards the side entrance to the computer lab on my campus, past this big set of metal doors that swings open--very slowly--to let cars into the private parking lot. Well, as I went to walk by there, a car showed up and the doors started to open. I shuffled past, and the damn car revved its engine to go in, only to stop a second later because the door still hadn´t opened enough to let the guy´s car in. This guy is a moronic unthinking idiot. He is so used to pushing his way past other people to "get ahead" in life, that he now does it instinctually . Essentially the message he is conveying here is: "You should not have crossed in front of me in my big, powerful car. You stood in my way, and the .3 seconds you cost me to wait for you isn´t justified, because I am much more important than you. My day would have been better had you not existed." This subtle act conveys the whole of human self-centeredness and lack of concern for others.
Here´s another example: you are waiting on the bus, and your stop is coming up. You get up to go towards the exit door, but some guy who is also leaving pushes past you to get to the door. Even though it is obvious to any idiot with any IQ of 90 that you´re both going to get to the bus station at the same time, apparently this guy is desparate to get off the bus first. You see it all the time here in Spain. This country is fully of pushy old people who don´t say excuse me as they shove you over so they can wait by the door for a minute or two before they actually get to their stop, creating traffic jams and blocking you in. It´s really quite pathetic that people are so wired to "come first" in life that they will make an effort to be rude to you so they can get off a second earlier than you, because if they are the first one in line, then that means they win at life.
Honestly, people need to stop being mindless cattle, slow down, and start enjoying life and thinking about what it all means, and stop worrying about the petty details. I see people get so preoccupied with the pettiest little things all day long, or do nothing but preoccupy themselves with achieving more and more with their career all the time, that they ignore thinking about what it all means and never appreciate the miracle that it all is. Who, then, is really wasting whose time?
Monday, March 12, 2007
Masturbation isn´t funny
...unless it´s someone else who is doing it.
I rent a room out of a flat shared by two brasilian ladies and their nephew, Jefferson. Jefferson is 26 years old, lays wood for a living, and his favorite activity is listening to really bad music. He likes bad music of all kinds--techno, amateur rap remixes, Britney Spears, and what seems to be Brazilian Mariachi music. He enjoys listing to bad music so much, that he built giant speakers into the kitchen, so that the rest of the house could listen to his bad music and enjoy it with him. At first I found this intensely annoying, but after a while, I somehow developed a taste for it, kind of like how Australians like Vegemite. Now I know most of his songs by heart, so I will croon them as I go by his door, or dance to his shitty techno while cooking.
It was during one of my late-night cooking escapades that the awkardness began. I have a habit of staying up late and cooking when any normal sane person would be asleep. This particular night I decided to make fried potatoes with garlic, not only because they are delicious but also because it was pretty much the only thing I had in the house. As usual a little fiesta was going on vis-a-vis the inexorable speaker music: A bad portugese singer did his best to perform a sonata over a cacophpny of trumpets and accordions.
I had just finished cutting the potatoes when the music stopped. No sooner did I throw them into the frying pan than a new type of music started--a type much less innocent than the mariachi that preceded it. Yes, it was porn music.
It didn´t stop with the music. It sounded someone had thrown a can of nerve gas in a room filled with cheerleaders. This wasn´t just a porn--it was an orgy. No words can describe the feeling of being forced against your will to listen to what another guy masturbates to while doing something totally mundane. It was absolutely surreal.
I wasn´t quite sure what to do. Apparently he had forgotten to disconnect his speakers before he started going to town on himself. I couldn´t knock on his door and kindly explain his error; you just don´t bust a guy while he´s stretching his taffy. Besides, that would be waaay too awkward--I probably wouldn´t be able to look at him again. And I didn´t know how to disconnect the speakers, either.
So there I stood, frying potatoes, trying to decide when to add the garlic, while the sounds of groups of people whaling on each other wafted through the kitchen and out the open window.
It seemed to be an American porn, since occasionally you would hear some guy whisper, "Oh, yeah," but then again, may´be guys around the world say that while making babies. In either case, it was clearly part of a porn star´s bag o´tricks, since every few minutes SOMEONE would say it. The guys must have known what they were doing, because the girls didn´t sound like they were faking it. But then again, pornstars probably have a lot of practive making that shit sound realistic.
Apparently Jeffy-boy has quite a bit of stamina: I finished frying the potatoes, went back to my room, ate them, and when I went back in to clean my plate the porno was still going. Oh well, he´ll need that right-arm strength next time he has to lay down wood. No, that pun was not intended.
I rent a room out of a flat shared by two brasilian ladies and their nephew, Jefferson. Jefferson is 26 years old, lays wood for a living, and his favorite activity is listening to really bad music. He likes bad music of all kinds--techno, amateur rap remixes, Britney Spears, and what seems to be Brazilian Mariachi music. He enjoys listing to bad music so much, that he built giant speakers into the kitchen, so that the rest of the house could listen to his bad music and enjoy it with him. At first I found this intensely annoying, but after a while, I somehow developed a taste for it, kind of like how Australians like Vegemite. Now I know most of his songs by heart, so I will croon them as I go by his door, or dance to his shitty techno while cooking.
It was during one of my late-night cooking escapades that the awkardness began. I have a habit of staying up late and cooking when any normal sane person would be asleep. This particular night I decided to make fried potatoes with garlic, not only because they are delicious but also because it was pretty much the only thing I had in the house. As usual a little fiesta was going on vis-a-vis the inexorable speaker music: A bad portugese singer did his best to perform a sonata over a cacophpny of trumpets and accordions.
I had just finished cutting the potatoes when the music stopped. No sooner did I throw them into the frying pan than a new type of music started--a type much less innocent than the mariachi that preceded it. Yes, it was porn music.
It didn´t stop with the music. It sounded someone had thrown a can of nerve gas in a room filled with cheerleaders. This wasn´t just a porn--it was an orgy. No words can describe the feeling of being forced against your will to listen to what another guy masturbates to while doing something totally mundane. It was absolutely surreal.
I wasn´t quite sure what to do. Apparently he had forgotten to disconnect his speakers before he started going to town on himself. I couldn´t knock on his door and kindly explain his error; you just don´t bust a guy while he´s stretching his taffy. Besides, that would be waaay too awkward--I probably wouldn´t be able to look at him again. And I didn´t know how to disconnect the speakers, either.
So there I stood, frying potatoes, trying to decide when to add the garlic, while the sounds of groups of people whaling on each other wafted through the kitchen and out the open window.
It seemed to be an American porn, since occasionally you would hear some guy whisper, "Oh, yeah," but then again, may´be guys around the world say that while making babies. In either case, it was clearly part of a porn star´s bag o´tricks, since every few minutes SOMEONE would say it. The guys must have known what they were doing, because the girls didn´t sound like they were faking it. But then again, pornstars probably have a lot of practive making that shit sound realistic.
Apparently Jeffy-boy has quite a bit of stamina: I finished frying the potatoes, went back to my room, ate them, and when I went back in to clean my plate the porno was still going. Oh well, he´ll need that right-arm strength next time he has to lay down wood. No, that pun was not intended.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Setting up the Blog.
So this is DouG's blog space. This will be the only entry in which he refers to himself in the third person; he promises.
The idea behind putting a blog on the web is to consolidate the occasional mypace posts and the long-promised and longer-delayed "travel blogs" into one place. This way, those who want to read DouG's blogs can look at them whenever they want to, without recieving a long e-mail to links that don't work. Then images can just be URLs, which is more likely to work than the e-mail URL thingy, or at least look more pretty, since they will all be on the same page. At least that's the idea; hopefully it will work like DouG wants it to. In fact, he'll try it below to make sure it does:
.....my PRECIOUS!!!
The idea behind putting a blog on the web is to consolidate the occasional mypace posts and the long-promised and longer-delayed "travel blogs" into one place. This way, those who want to read DouG's blogs can look at them whenever they want to, without recieving a long e-mail to links that don't work. Then images can just be URLs, which is more likely to work than the e-mail URL thingy, or at least look more pretty, since they will all be on the same page. At least that's the idea; hopefully it will work like DouG wants it to. In fact, he'll try it below to make sure it does:
.....my PRECIOUS!!!
Rap Music is OK By Me
To anyone who thinks Rap or Hip Hop isn't music:
Go try to sing the lyrics to "Bombs Over Baghdad" by Outkast along with the song. You will quickly realize not only how much talent these guys have, but also how incredibly cool this all is. If you are white, you will probably also realize how funny white people rapping is. I know I did.
If you ever bother to look up the lyrics to some of these songs, they are actually pretty intelligent, not only to fit words into a rhythm like that, but also what they are talking about, it's a complete chnge in perspective for a middle-class white boy like me. And no, it's not "alcohol and bitches"...at least not all of it. Just because Toby Keith is an ignorant asshole and Slayer sings about Genocide, doesn't mean all music in this genre is crap, does it?
In short, stop being so judgmental, stop being afraid to look at the world from a different point of view, stop living by generalizations and stereotypes and start examining the world for what it is. You'll come away a better person.
Go try to sing the lyrics to "Bombs Over Baghdad" by Outkast along with the song. You will quickly realize not only how much talent these guys have, but also how incredibly cool this all is. If you are white, you will probably also realize how funny white people rapping is. I know I did.
If you ever bother to look up the lyrics to some of these songs, they are actually pretty intelligent, not only to fit words into a rhythm like that, but also what they are talking about, it's a complete chnge in perspective for a middle-class white boy like me. And no, it's not "alcohol and bitches"...at least not all of it. Just because Toby Keith is an ignorant asshole and Slayer sings about Genocide, doesn't mean all music in this genre is crap, does it?
In short, stop being so judgmental, stop being afraid to look at the world from a different point of view, stop living by generalizations and stereotypes and start examining the world for what it is. You'll come away a better person.
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