Don't Dye Your Pubes.

It Burns something terrible.

No, I'm just kidding.

It feels great.


I'm only joking, I wouldn't know. I'm not that brave.

Anyway, I hang out with some people who's interesting mix of conservative and liberal ways confound me to almost no end. They speak out(if and when one can get them to speak out at all) with crazy left wing ideas like pro-choice for women or the rights of homosexuals to marry each other, but when it comes to personal appearance-physically or other- they're about as puritanical as one can be in this day in age. They absolutely cannot alter themselves in anyway that could be noticed or critiqued by any of their neighbors, peers, co-workers,...Etc. What I have trouble with the most, and it's probably not normal, I was raised in an environment where no one told me how I needed to look or dress, so I probably don't share this confusion with many who read this, maybe a few. But what perplexes me so much is why it matters at all how others outside of your circle of people you share the most time with think of you. I can think of a very few cases where this might actually be important; For example, if your job depends on it. Other than that, I really can't figure out how it could possibly affect your livelihood if Mrs. Johnson, whom you see maybe twice a month at church, doesn't like the particular shade of your hair color. I mean, I couldn't really give a flying fuck if someone was slightly offended by my hair color. That is entirely their prerogative. They have the choice to be offended by it or not as well as the choice whether they look at my head or not. Does not matter. I change it on a whim. It has never adversely affected me in any measurable way. There was one time that I had an unfortunate experience with some orange hair spray that ended up turning my head pink for about a month. No, I did not want to have pink hair. I didn't particularly like having pink hair, but you know what? It didn't make me hate the way I looked nor did it make me want to cut off all my hair. It was a failed experiment, so what? Collect the data and move on to the next dependent variable. How the fuck are you ever gonna know if you like anything different if you never try anything different? Being used to the way something is and actually liking something are in fact, two different things. And it's kinda hard to tell which one quality you possess if it never varies. I'm all for people who simply have no interest in changing a particular part of themselves. Sometimes it doesn't interest you. Oh well. Not your fault. But I am a bit annoyed by someone who is staunchly opposed to it, like I was asking them to change their sex or something. I wouldn't ever ask you to change your whole life, just for once, eat some thousand Islands or Italian with your salad instead of Ranch.
Come on, shake it up a little. Sometimes it's exciting to wake up in the morning and see somebody new in the mirror. It makes you feel like you aren't stuck in the same ol' shell. It fucking invigorates me.
Please believe me, I'm not trying to hurt anyone's' feelings here. This is actually the way I feel at times. I'm not dogging on you... Well, maybe just a little.
For those of you who venture to change something about you in spite of your fear of what people might think, that actually takes some real courage, and I commend you and admire you for it. Just because it didn't work out exactly how you wanted it to the very first time you ever tried shouldn't discourage you from future experimentation.


One time I pierced my own ear. Why? I wanted to. It was like randomly deciding I wanted some pizza. Did I think about it? Not really. Did I regret it? No. Did I get bored with it? Eventually, I just got tired of having to clean my ear rings.
All I'm saying is, I think you gotta mix it up a little sometimes. Wear a thong or some boxer shorts or something. Pierce your tongue; Cut off your eyebrows. Who cares how it looks other than that it's just different. Sometimes, to be yourself you gotta be someone else.

Updating Y'all

I'm so freakin' tired. I still work around thirty hours a week and go to school. School is going alright. I haven't fallen behind yet, althought it is only the second week of school. Don't let that fool you though. Those of you who know me the best are aware of the self-damage I can do in a week.
I also got a new laptop. It's pretty spiffy, but I already believe that it's not gonna be worth all the money I spent on it. I guess I already knew that sub consciously before I even bought the thing as I as standing in line at bestbuy getting sic thinking about the check I was about to write. It absotutely literally made me want to throw up. I got all light in head and everything.
So, now I'm lonely, broke, and perpetually busy. What a great condition.

Star Wars, Baby

If you don't believe that reality is catching up with science-fiction, check this out.

Skool Thyme

Yesterday was my last day as a full-time associate at the Moore Wal-mart Supercenter and tomorrow I start school again. That's crazy and exciting because it goes fully against the expectations I had that I was not going to be going to school anymore. I didn't tell any of you that because I was ashamed of it. I was a ashamed yet satisfied that I was not going to have a college degree. But now I've decided that I will. Not because I need to so much as that I want to. I love school. I'm sad that I'm almost halfway over with my college experience. I don't want it to ever end. Another side effect of this extra long summer that I've been having is that for the first time since I was a junior in High school I've seriously been contemplating a change of major. Linguistics is awesome, but there's no career in it in this day in age. But there is in writing. I'm making no commitments at the moment, but the seed is planted. It'll be alright to sit and think on it this semester since I'm basically taking high school classes this semester: English, Biology, Psychology, and American Government.
In other news: Loreli drove ME around in HER car for the very first time ever today. It was fun. We went to lunch at Boomerang. That was very delicious. Lori says the onion rings were exquisite.
Alright well, off to bed. I have to be up in about six hours for English class.

P.S. I fully intend to be once again attending the University of Oklahoma by January of 2006.

Green Day

Best. Show. Ever.

In Yo Face

Going to see Green Day tomorrow, bitches. Wa-cha!

O My Car

Good news first; Car is in the shop as we speak...er...as I type. You know what I mean. Down side of that is the $403 bill I'm gonna break paying for it. Oh well, had to be done.
Ok, someone-probably someone who hates gay people or loves them, I'm not really sure about their standing with gay people- decided to vandalize my car on Sunday night while it sat in the Moore Wal-mart Supercenter parking lot. Yeah, I thought it was very thoughtful as well.

There's the windshield. If you can't read that, it says, "Gay's Rule". Notice the inappropriate apostrophe. There is also vasoline and an as yet unidentified granular concoction on the wiper blades. Yahoo.There on my driver side window it says groom #1. Isn't that funny, isn't that just quaint? On the passenger side it says groom #2.

On the back it says, "Just married," with a cute little bell. Surprisingly they managed to spell it correctly.
Notice here the stylish tampons hanging from the door handles. There are four in all. I'm not really sure what tampons have to do with gay people or getting married, but oh well. There is also a thick appliance of vasoline to all the handles and gasoline cover. Magnifique. Oh yeah, I didn't get a picture but inside the little door for the gas was packed with dead fish. Tasty.
For all who care or need to know. That guy who constantly drives around in the Wal-mart parking lot in the white truck is abso-fucking-lutely useless. I've not seen a more worthless waste of money than that guy. He gets paid, and I'm paraphrasing a direct quote from him, to do nothing but drive around and sit on his fat, useless ass. He didn't happen to see or hear from any body about what happened to my car but he did inform me that, because my car was covered in writing and sitting in the parking lot over night, management was going to have it towed. I'm going to slash his tires. Every night. He wouldn't use contractions when he talked to me and kept calling me sir. You can add annoying to his description: fat, useless, and annoying.

Some Philosophy For You Kids

The deepest questions are often asked by those who don't need or want the deepest answer. Because they aren't looking for philosophy. I'm always looking for philosophy.
The other day at work I left my locker with my blue "How can-I-help-you?" vest and approached the time clock in order to clock in. There I found one of my fellow Wal-mart associates waiting patiently.
"Are you waiting to clock in?" I asked.
"No," she said, "I'm about to go to lunch."
"Ohh," I said and looked at the time to if it was anything special. It was an insignificant odd number poised to change to some insignificant even number. I then realized what she was doing. "You want that whole minute don't you?"
"Yes I do," said she, "don't you?" That was enough to make me pause. I didn't even answer her question. Not because I'm rude or anything, but because I was not prepared to. It struck me deeply. Do I want that whole minute? Does it matter? Do I really gain that much time? I suppose that over a period of weeks I do gain a significant amount of time. But, what about all the time I waist waiting for that minute to flip over? Is it less important time because I'm standing there wasting it getting paid? Maybe so and maybe not. I'm not entirely sure if I'm that kind of person. That seems like a thing that sort of defines you. Do you really care about that thirty extra seconds of lunch time you get by waiting? After the minute flipped she clocked out and then so did I.
"I don't know..." I finally muttered as she walked off.
So tell me folks. Tell me. Leave a comment. Do you want that whole minute? And if so, Why? Or why not?