some shitstain sent me this and i am rarely one to pass up answering questions about myself, no matter how mundane.

1. What is your occupation right now?
SEO and trying my luck at a little domain flipping

2. What color are your socks right now?
i live in the mayan riviera. it's may. i'm pretty sure socks would be a sign of insanity. although on any day, in any climate, my feet are usually burning, so i don't often wear socks anywhere. but when i do, they usually have little monkeys or skulls on them.

3. What are you listening to right now?
the sound of my son finally sleeping. there's a piece of paper under the tv stand i haven't got around to fetching that's shifting in the breeze from my super fan. also, typing.

4. What was the last thing that you ate?
la taberna buffalo wings. as a food snob, i must say this is the only bar food in playa worth getting your fingers dirty for.

5. Can you drive a stick shift?
i know how but i def. need practice cause i suck like dennis rodman on the apprentice. zing.

6. Last person you spoke to on the phone?
either baby daddy or mom.

7. Do you like the person who sent this to you?
um. i don't really know him all that well. but i genuinely like people immediately until(if) they show me why i shouldn't.

8. How old are you today?
i'm pretty sure i'm 31 though sometime after i turned 30, the remembering-my-age part of my brain went fuzzy and i seriously have to think about it when people ask. the 77 tattoo helps.

9. What is your favorite sport to watch on TV?
cleveland browns football.

10. What is your favorite drink?
unfortunately, diet coke. before i was prego, i hated pop of any kind. then one day when i was pregnant i took a sip of diet coke and now if i don't have it within the first two hours of wakefulness, my day is usually a write-off. seriously more addictive than heroin or smoking. they should put warnings on that shit.

11. Have you ever dyed your hair?
every color of the rainbow. just about. sometimes two at a time.

12. Favorite food?
thai red curry or butter chicken.

13. What is the last movie you watched?
presumed innocent. of course.

14. Favorite day of the year?
august 25th.

15. How do you vent anger?
swim. talk to my folks.

16. What was your favorite toy as a child?
wtf. like i remember. apparently you weren't paying attention to the age question.

17. What is your favorite season?
in playa, spring. in vancity, summer.

18. Cherries or Blueberries?
oh hell, cherries all the way, baby.

19. Do you want your friends to e-mail you back?
i'm not sure what this question is asking. like, do i want them to email me back supposing i'd sent this on to them rather than post it? or email me back in general? the latter of which could be rephrased: do you not want your friends to ignore your emails? um. tricky. in general, yes, i want them to email me back when i'm emailing them shit like "hey dude whats up?" or "joey got two more teeth!" but i really never do that. the only person i really email is carrie for work. as far as expecting them to send me this questionnaire, not really. i could go on with this stream of consciousness you know, for a very long time. chances are no one is even reading anymore. i could say anything right now and no one would care. i don't think michael phelps is a douche. i said it. woot!

20. Who is the most likely to respond?
to what? me posting this? the call of duty? these questions are silly. none of my friends will respond. they have better things to do.

21. Who is least likely to respond?
every every every buddy.

23. When was the last time you cried?
i don't remember. i think i might have been watching house.

24. What is on the floor of your closet?
a backpack, a broken imac and neon pink/orange/yellow/green chuck taylors.

25. Who is the friend you have had the longest that you are sending to?
ok, let's just assume i'm sending this bullshit via email to everyone i know. carrie would be my oldest friend.

26. What did you do last night?
i watched tv until like 9:45 then went to bed and read cause baby boy woke me up at 530am that morning.

27. What are you afraid of?
spiders. jesus christ spiders. no i don't mean spiders that look like christ or are named after christ. i mean, jesus christ, SPIDERS. though jesus christ spiders may not be so scary. is this blasphemous? should i stop?

28. Plain, cheese, or spicy hamburgers?
oh god i couldn't eat a hamburger if you paid me. but i love spicy.

29. Favorite dog breed?
mutt. they are the only type of dog allowed to evolve, pass on dominant traits, etc. breeding is cruel.

30. Favorite day of the week?
saturday.

31. Diamonds or pearls?
rubies.

32. What is your favorite flower?
orchid.

well that was anti-climactic. wtf. i coulda been watching lost.

The Most Despised Minority in America

So who is most despised? One strong candidate for the title "Most Despised Minority in America" is Atheists, Agnostics, Humanists, and the others who comprise the group unfortunately termed "non-believers." While "non-believer," in this case, refers to a "non-belief" in a super-human deity, it, like other negative terms, automatically carries a stigma, as would "non-white," "non-male," or "non-Christian."

How many "non-believers" are there in America? This question is even harder to answer than how many Gays, because it appears to be socially unacceptable to state that one is an Atheist or Agnostic. Though the estimates vary widely, 10-12% of all Americans and 20-25% of those aged 18-30 identify themselves as "non-believers," depending very heavily on how the question is phrased. When the poll offers three choices, belief in "God," belief in "universal spirit," or belief in neither, the number who don't believe in "God" jumps to over 20%. 20% of Americans is a huge number to be despised. For comparison, the US Census reports that only 13% of Americans are Black, and only 15% Hispanic.

i commented on his insensitive poor-me tirade:

I am a "non believer" in that I don't believe in the personification of God, though it's pretty clear to me there is a higher power than us in the Universe. However, I'm not sure comparing the free thinkers' plight with that of African Americans, Hispanics, Native Americans and Gays is entirely fair. I come from a long line of atheists and agnostics and maybe once or twice in our collective lives had we had to deal with anything negative above simple snobbery. Sure, there was a time when non believers were persecuted, but there was a time when Christians were too, as well as Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Taoists. Every belief (or lack thereof) group has been persecuted at one point or another and I'd hardly go so far as to say the free thinkers had it worse. I don't remember a time in history when we were led, en masse, to our deaths in gas chambers, or slaughtered in great numbers at the hands of a communist government.

This post is irresponsible and insensitive and quite frankly, demonstrates the attitude that keeps believers from really respecting us.

imagine! comparing a white agnostic male's plight to that of an openly gay high school student! what a jackass! to be clear, when i say higher power, i mean nature, science.

Technorati Tags: atheism, agnosticism, christianity, buddhism, hiduism, judaism, taoism, homesexuality

so after watching an episode of house, which seemed to go on for like 9 hours which is noteworthy because i love this show, it never seems dull and i must have been more tired than death to have it feel like it was anything longer than an hour, i crawled into bed, read a couple of sentences of twisted confessions and passed out. a few minutes later, i was awake again. little joe has suddenly sprung to life and needs a feed. this hasn't happened in weeks and on the odd occasion it does, i just give him a feed and a few minutes later we're snoozin' again. but, and i say this but over a massive, disapproving sigh, as i was heating up itty bitty joey's bottle in the dark, i knocked over a wine glass left on the edge of the counter. admittedly an hilariously poetic moment as i couldn't see a fucking thing, i'm holding a wobbly baby looking at me with big doe eyes and a pacifier in his mouth and i turn to grab the bottle and i just hear slip... and then a moment of absolute, ear-shattering silence, and then a massive pop as microscopic shards of glass embed themselves in my bare calves. the pacifier falls out, doe eyes turn moist, the tiny lower lip sticks out and then "waaaaaa". so there i am standing in the middle of mine field of shattered glass, in bare feet, with bleeding legs, a crying baby and i still can't see a fucking thing. i have no choice, i have to walk through the glass in my bare feet. surprisingly, i managed to not cut myself on the soles of my feet at all. by now, however, joey is wide awake, my legs are stinging and my house needs a massive sweep. after feeding joey, sweeping up all the glass and picking out the little bits in my legs, joey remains as awake as if it were 8am and i, still, am so very, very tired.

holy fuck.

this movie is heartbreakingly morose. i feel like i've been hit by a truck. seriously. i'm all for a good drama but this took drama to another level, one of those fucking sob-while-the-popcorn-falls-out-of-your-mouth type dillys. like you just wanna grab will smith and say "SMILE for FUCKS sake!" and it's just way too long and way too sad and they take too long to give you the answers to the questions. you could piece it together if you weren't too busy imagining what chewing on glass would feel like, just to take some of the pain away from this horribly gloomy movie.

will smith was good. rosario dawson was good, and woody harrelson's whole look in the flick is just off-putting. the actors were good, but really, i probably would have had more fun at a catholic funeral. this movie is cause for creating a new oscar category: the award for the actor who survived a role that would make just about anyone jump off a bridge.

fucking jellyfish. christ.

Technorati Tags: seven pounds, will smith, rosario dawson, woody harrelson

you know, this show wouldn't be half bad if it werent for the judges. seriously, who's garbage can did they scrape these fuckers out of? honestly. we've got that asshole randy jackson, who talks like he did 20 years at san quentin, dawg this, dawg that. his reaction to a good performance "aight. yo. yo. so check this out. check this out. yo. aight. yo. yo. check this out. yo. dawg, you really nailed this one. that beat was bumpin'. idol in the hooowwwwwwse! good lookin' out, dawg!" does he even know what good lookin out means? and this is what he says when it's a bad performance, "aight. yo. yo. ok. aight so check this out. check this out. yo. yo. check this out. aight. yo. so, i gotta be honest with you dawg. it was really just aight for me man. it really wasn't that good. dawg. dawg. yo..... yo." i guess a stint with journey is like a bit in folsom. fuck.

then we have little miss mouse face who thinks she knows everything about everything and talks the same way normal people try to get to the center of a tootsie pop, all pucker-faced and sucky. and beside her? fuckin' pisstank abdul, who's in a rush, rush to get to the bottom of a twixer of bacardi. has she ever enunciated a word, ever? SPEAK, paula, pull your teeth apart, let the words OUT.

the only person with half a brain is simon the flaming canker sore. but seriously, this guy is out to lunch too. "why are you booing me when they said the same thing?" well, what boozer, wanna-be-con and mouseface all said was "the performance wasn't the best we've seen from you" and what you, little simy-poo, said was "go slit your wrists, there's no point to living, you suck so hard not even jesus loves you anymore... ahem. die." and then he follows it up with his trademark shoulder shrug, palms to the sky and a "WHOT??"

fuuuuck.

Technorati Tags: american idol, randy jackson, paula abdul, kara dioguardi, simon cowell

my son is so beautiful. i just can't express it in words. every morning i wake up to him cooing in his crib. i look over and i see little legs kicking up. i get up and walk over to his crib and look down at him and he squeals with delight and flashes me the most stunning two-toothed smile. he punches his fists and kicks his legs in excitement from seeing me. then i bring him back to bed with me and he talks to me. he grabs my face and says "ahhh, ahhh, ahhh" or razzes with his tiny little tongue. then rocky, the bestest fur brother a kid could have, jumps into bed with us and joey just smiles from ear to ear. he loves his bro bro. we all cuddle and play and make faces and laugh until it's time to get up.

it sure as hell beats waking up to an alarm, alone every morning. my son has made me a morning person. i never thought i'd see the day. he's a magical little boy.

you know what? why the fuck do people make awful movies? and you know what else? why do they cast nick cage? the guy is so ugly i can't stand it. i don't know what the fuck inspired me, but i just watched bangkok dangerous and i felt like i was being mugged over and over again, except the muggers weren't stealing money or jewelry or anything like that, they were sucking my soul out of my eyeballs. and they weren't muggers. they were nick cage. god. fuck.

the one part when the kid asks cage to teach him assassins 101 and nicky poo, instead of answering, holds a knife up to him to teach him to block someone coming at you with a knife, and he's saying "again, again" in his raspy-ass, wanna-come-see-the-puppy-in-my-van voice. oh my god. it was like restless leg syndrome, like your legs have so much energy at 3am when the rest of your body just wants to sleep and there's nothing you can do to make them feel better except take a hot bath? yeah it was like that, it was like an itch you can't scratch, like a blistering burn on your finger tip. i wanted to reach through the screen and grab him by his greasy chester hair and tell him that just because unky frankie cast him in the godfather a billion years ago doesn't give him the right to go around acosting us all with vile shit like bangkok dangerous and maybe he should think about getting a new fucking character because even in leaving las vegas he was still the creepy pedophiliac-esque raper man with a backwoods 'do, pock-marked face and fucking bug eyes. he's gross and the only job he should have is gravedigger or catholic priest.

Technorati Tags: nicholas cage, bangkok dangerous, leaving las vegas, francis ford coppola, the godfather, bad movies, oh my god