WBC protest / counter protest Frederick MD oct 6 2007

fightOUTloud.org

Gay Man’s Murder Sick

Alejandro Fuentes Mejia’s life came to a distressing, disturbing end earlier this week. Acapulco Police found the 48-year old Mexican national’s body last week - and the details are absolutely sickening:

The body of 48-year old Alejandro Fuentes Mejia was found on the morning of February 21st with his hands tied behind his back in a dirt road that cut through a park near his place of employment.

Mejia had last been seen the day before at his place of work - the Institute of Social Security and Services - and was still wearing his work uniform. His body showed signs of torture and indications that he had been stoned to death.

The most shocking part? A sign made out of yellow cardboard that was left on the body that read “This is what happens to me for going around infecting people with AIDS.”

That’s just - so many things, all of them bad.

Hundreds Attend South Florida Vigil for Slain Gay Teen

A vigil was held late yesterday afternoon on Sistrunk Boulevard in Fort Lauderdale at the site where 17-year-old Simmie Williams was gunned down, just one of two potential hate crimes that occurred in that area last week. The other, of course, was the beating of Melbourne Brunner outside the Floridian restaurant on Las Olas Boulevard.

The Sun-Sentinel reports: "They gathered for about an hour on a grassy patch behind the chain link fence where Simmie Williams Jr. was found shot Feb. 22. A pile of teddy bears, flowers and purple votive candles lined the cracked sidewalk, while the state flag and a rainbow flag flapped above in the wind. Amid the group of community leaders, Williams' mom, Denise King, stood silently with a picture of her son in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. A tear ran down her right cheek as activists began to speak."

The paper reports that a group of approximately 120 gathered after the vigil at the Gay and Lesbian Community Center in Fort Lauderdale to discuss the recent violence: "The crowd contributed more than $3,500 to help pay for Williams' funeral. Paul Rubenstein, executive director of a Fort Lauderdale oncology office, also contributed $4,000 to add to the already-growing Crime Stoppers reward for information leading to an arrest..."

Mayor Jim Naugle, who many blame for engendering an atmosphere of hate toward gay people in that city because of remarks he made last Summer, told the Sun-Sentinel that he stands by the remarks: "The comments were responsible and supported by residents in the city. The city and the police department, we're going to do everything we can to solve the two (recent) crimes."

Pooh Goes Apeshit

not by:

A.A. Milne

Everything was rather quiet in the hundred acre wood. The trees whispered to each other as the wind rustled their leaves. Under a large oak tree, there lived Pooh bear. From inside Pooh's house, there came a steady bang...bang... bang!, that was making his honey jars rattle on the sideboard. The light came through the window, and in the evening sun Pooh raised the axe once more and brought it down on the tattered remains of Christopher Robin.

"Why...won't... he...fit..." puffed Pooh to himself as the axe came down once more.

There was a small pile of earth, and a hole next to it, which Pooh had hidden with his favourite rug. Christopher Robin, selfish prat that he was, didn't quite fit in the hole Pooh had dug, so instead of making it wider he had decided to hack Christopher Robin's legs off.

"A far more sensible idea", thought Pooh, and hummed a little song to himself as he cut the last tendon and rammed the rest of the body in the hole, finally covering it up with the rug.

"Always too bossy", thought Pooh, "Always too bossy, always grabbing me by the paw and saying 'Come on Pooh lets have an adventure' or 'Pooh you are silly!' in that affected cutesy spoilt brat voice, and his stupid little shorts - bastard!"

Pooh had waited all afternoon for Christopher Robin to come round, humming a little tuneless song to himself whilst gazing blankly into the fire and fondling the oaken handle of the axe. When C.R. had finally turned up, squeaking in his child-actor voice "Come on Pooh! Open Up!", Pooh had answered the door normal as anything, talked about the weather, and then went to the cupboard and fetched the axe. While C.R. had sat there, prattling on about what a silly bear Pooh was and how he had very little brain (which wound Pooh up no end) Pooh had raised the axe high and brought it down with a satisfying thud on Christopher Robin's skull, cleaving it virtually in two, with just some muscle fibre in place to keep the pieces upright, and freezing C.R's eyes wide in horror that Pooh, lovable Pooh, could do such a thing! Pooh giggled a little and wiped some saliva from his mouth with a shaky paw. Then Pooh, calm as anything, had mopped up the blood, washed the axe and begun to dig the hole.

Piglet had wondered why Pooh had not called for him that morning, to have his tea and biscuits, and so he decided to visit Pooh instead. He admired the evening sun, blood red, and listened to the birds singing. Pooh watched him get nearer and nearer, and plugged in the drill.

Piglet had no time to realise what had happened - the drill pierced his skull, sending a beautiful fountain of blood all over Pooh's orange hide. He rubbed the blood in and all over himself, licking, licking, always licking. Then he pulled Piglet inside and put him in the cupboard. The syringe lay on the sideboard, and Pooh picked it up, paws shaking and sweating, and filled it full of solution of the funny white powder that had been given to him by a strangely spaced-out Rabbit. It was a strange effect at first, and Pooh thought he had seen many strange things, but then experienced a euphoric feeling of power. It made him irritable, and C.R. and Piglet had everything that was coming to them, no doubt at all. When night had fully fallen, Pooh dragged the bodies out and buried them in a makeshift grave.

"Adios, dear 'friends'", Pooh giggled, "Things are going to change around the 100-acre wood now I'm in charge" he laughed hysterically and went indoors.

The next day Tigger and Roo made their way happily to Pooh's house, to see if he knew where C.R. and Piglet were, as no-one had seen them since yesterday. They were sure Pooh would know, as he had had tea with Piglet yesterday and was meant to be playing Pooh-sticks with C.R. in the morning.

When they reached Pooh's house the door was wide open and Pooh was nowhere to be seen. Tigger and Roo looked inside Pooh's house and noticed a large hole in Pooh's floor and a notice was stuck on the wall with a large blob of congealing honey "OWT CHAGIG THE DRAGGN" (spelling had never been one of Pooh's strong points).

"That's odd", though Tigger, "there are no dragons in the 100-acre wood only heffalumps. What is that silly bear up to now?"

Not even Tigger would have imagined what Pooh was up to at that moment. That morning Pooh had woken with a splitting headache and a rather snotty nose. So he had taken a large dose of the white powder and a little while later had a brilliant idea! He left the house with a container marked insecticide in big red letters. He took the container and went to Eeyore's favourite patch of thistles.

"This will serve that manic depressive donkey right" laughed Pooh aloud, "always cheating at Pooh-sticks, cheats never prosper", Pooh said to himself.

Then he hid behind a tree to watch the unsuspecting Eeyore eat himself to death - sheer poetic justice thought Pooh as he dumped the nearly dead body of Eeyore in the same grave as C.R. and Piglet.

"Shouldn't cheat should you?", shouted Pooh as Eeyore's eyes stared with disbelief. "You're lucky I didn't chop you up into little bits and feed you to Tigger!", laughed Pooh manically, before he covered the makeshift grave over.

Pooh didn't return to the house until dinner time as he was totally spaced out all morning. So when he returned to his house he was in an awful mood and all he needed to make him absolutely mad was the sight of Tigger and Roo bouncing up and down outside his house singing "bouncy, bouncy, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, the wonderful....".

"'Wonderful'?", thought Pooh aloud, "My foot, you'd think the writer of this shitty story could think up better lyrics for a song than that, and to think, they released the sound-track album on cassette and CD; a lot of people are going to get ripped off." This lightened Pooh's mood somewhat, but the respite was brief.

"What was that you said?", asked Roo.

"God does he never stop asking pathetic questions?", Pooh thought furiously. "I'm going to have to deal with these prats as well. Is there no-one in this place with intelligence apart from me?" Pooh asked despairingly."

Pooh felt himself extremely lucky as Roo had to go home for his afternoon sleep and that left Tigger at his mercy. Even better, Tigger suggested that himself and Pooh go and play Pooh-sticks; Pooh had smiled slyly as an idea formed in his overactive brain, and agreed.

"What an opportunity", Pooh whispered to himself as he followed the innocent Tigger to the bridge.

Once on the bridge, and the rather pointless game of Pooh-sticks was under way, Pooh thought he'd much rather push his stick up Tigger's arse, rather than throwing it into the stream. Tigger was leaning over the side of the bridge looking for his stick. So he did not see Pooh's wide horrific grin as he outstretched his arms and moved toward Tigger with the intent of pushing the stupid cat into the stream.

"Cats hate water, tee hee, he'll drown."

There was a loud splash as Tigger hit the water and started to struggle as his head was covered by water, he gulped and choked. Pooh was holding on to the rail of the bridge and jumping up and down with excitement and was joyously shouting at the drowning Tigger.

"Why?", spluttered Tigger as he slowly started to turn blue with the cold, which Pooh found hysterical, after all a blue Tigger? How absolutely silly.

"I'll tell you why you bastard", screamed Pooh, "It serves you right, hiding behind doors and jumping out, and scaring the shit out of people." Tigger did not hear Pooh's answer as he was already floating downstream face down in the water, dead. "Good riddance", laughed Pooh, and looked at his watch. "Still time to get that little dick-head Roo before he wakes up."

Pooh sneaked to the sleeping form of Roo's mum and saw Roo's ear poking out of her pouch.

"Now I've got you, you little git", Pooh thought, smiling, as he threaded a needle with extra strong cotton. He was jolly grateful for Piglet's sewing lessons now, because he would be able to sew up Roo nice and tightly, so he would not be able to get out and his mum would not be able to rescue him. So very slowly and carefully Pooh began to sew Roo into his pouch and thereby suffocating the annoying idiotic twit. After the deed was done Pooh made his way back to his house wondering how Roo's mum would take the death of Roo. Badly, hoped Pooh, as he began to cough uncontrollably and felt general nausea overcome him.

By the time Pooh got home he had puked up several times and was very desperate for some more of the white solution. He trembled as he picked up the syringe and gave himself the remaining amount. An awfully large amount, one might say, for a small little bear like Pooh. In fact too much, Pooh died of an overdose, but he died with a smile on his face: he was dreaming that he was the only teddy bear made with a willy and dreamed how he surprised Eeyore one day - but that's a story for another day.

THE END

The Other Side: A Queer History

History (on the occasion of my 40th birthday) Part One

P E[thical] T A?

PETA killed 97% of the dogs, cats, and other pets it took in for adoption in 2006: "During that year, the well-known animal rights group managed to find adoptive homes for just 12 pets. The nonprofit Center for Consumer Freedom (CCF) is calling on PETA to either end its hypocritical angel-of-death program, or stop its senseless condemnation of Americans who believe it's perfectly ethical to use animals for food, clothing, and critical medical research. Not counting animals PETA held only temporarily in its spay-neuter program, the organization took in 3,061 'companion animals' in 2006, of which it killed 2,981. According to Virginia's Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services (VDACS), the average euthanasia rate for humane societies in the state was just 34.7 percent in 2006. PETA killed 97.4 percent of the animals it took in. The organization filed its 2006 report this month, nine months after the VDACS deadline of March 31, 2007. 'Pet lovers should be outraged,' said CCF Director of Research David Martosko. 'There are thousands of worthwhile animal shelters that deserve Americans' support. PETA is not one of them.' In courtroom testimony last year, a PETA manager acknowledged that her organization maintains a large walk-in freezer for storing dead animals, and that PETA contracts with a Virginia cremation service to dispose of the bodies. In that trial, two PETA employees were convicted of dumping dead animals in a rural North Carolina trash dumpster."

Queer Youth TV presents: Queercore (Part 1)

Queer Youth TV presents Queercore (Part 2)

Queer Youth TV presents: Queercore (Part 3)

Queer Youth TV presents: Queercore (Part 4)

1971 - Invisible Minority - GLBT HIstorical Society

Stairway to Heaven - The Opera Musical ((STEREO))

Patterns of Perversion

When sixth grade teacher Kelsey Peterson fled to Mexico with her 13 year old "lover" late last month, my heart told me it was time to speak out. But fear told me not to; in today's PC world, there's no sin so great as speaking the truth. Then, last night, I opened the paper to find that Norma Giannini, a 79 year old Roman Catholic nun had pleaded no contest to repeatedly sexually abusing two middle school boys.

But it's time that somebody spoke up for our children, and pulled them out of the clutches of these sick, perverted heterosexual women. Let the "straight" apologists say what they will, but the simple truth of the matter is that most child molesters are heterosexual. The only unusual aspect of these cases is that the perpetrators were female, while the vast majority of child sexual abusers are heterosexual males. And yet we still are asked to put our children in the hands of these heterosexual deviants each day we send them to school.

Well, I've had enough. We all know a pattern when we see one, and while we're doing our best not to bruise these perverts' feelings, our children are being inflicted with emotional scars that will last their entire lives. The scourge of heterosexuality is here, it's among us, and it's time to fight back.

In my own city of San Francisco, families with children are fleeing straight neighborhoods in droves for the gay haven of the Castro. It's easy to see why: A quick search at the Megan's Law website finds just two sex offenders in the Castro -- and one of those is arguably in Noe Valley. The city's other residential neighborhoods amount to little more than dens of these predatory perverts.

Now, I don't mean to imply that all heterosexuals are child molesters. But one cannot overlook the overwhelming evidence that a substantial number of heterosexual males are predatory toward young girls. They buy magazines called "Barely Legal," "Finally Legal" and "Finally 18". They strut around in broad daylight saying things like, "the best thing about high school girls is they stay the same age, while I keep getting older." And, yet, we're supposed to drop our daughters off for volleyball practice with a straight coach and just trust that nothing's going to happen.

"Straight" women, for their part, stop at nothing to indulge the sick hetero-male lust for youth. When the lotions, creams and peels stop working, they resort to having their faces surgically altered to appear younger. Only the Lord knows how much the heterosexual perversion is costing our economy each and every day.

"But, what's the harm?" I hear you asking. "They're not all out there molesting kids left and right. Surely, if some heterosexuals are good teachers and clergy, a few gropings here and there won't hurt."

Well, my friends, pedophilia is not the only plague visited upon us by the heterosexual scourge.

It's time to face the facts: Heterosexual "marriages" -- if you insist upon calling them that -- are tearing this country apart. Half of all these depraved unions end in divorce, tying up the courts and leaving the taxpayers with much of the bill. In cases where one parent is then ordered to pay child support, they are reported to fall behind 68% of the time.

None of this should come as a surprise, when one considers how the average heterosexual expresses "love".

22% of all American women report having been physically assaulted by an "intimate partner". Just 2% of the perpetrators are lesbians. When the heterosexual male tires of beating and battering his "mate," he resorts to more extreme ways of getting his perverse thrills: Domestic violence accounts for 45% of the female murder victims aged 20-24, and an even higher number of women aged 35-49. Don't let your daughter be next.

This is to say nothing of the public health crisis heterosexuality has dragged our once God-loving nation into. A Gonorrhea "superbug" is sweeping the country, rising fastest in heterosexual women. Last year alone, more than 1 million new cases of Chlamydia were reported in the United States, at a cost to taxpayers of nearly $15 billion. The highest rate of infection? Adolescent girls.

Heterosexuality is the most common route of HIV infection worldwide. And America is now facing an upswing in congenital syphilis, which can cause serious birth defects -- even death -- in newborns. It seems that even the womb is no safe hiding place from the evils of heterosexuality.

But children aren't the only victims of heterosexual sex. Childbirth, the largely heterosexual process of bringing a child into the world by expelling it out the mother's vagina, accounted for the deaths of 529,000 women in the year 2000 alone. Medical science has done much to alleviate the suffering caused by this ongoing crisis, but that does nothing for the literally trillions who throughout history have already fallen victim to this nightmare of heterosexual perversion.

But this comes down to a deeper question about who we are, and whether or not we as a society want to progress, or fall like Rome with the rise of the "straight society". After all, does anybody really believe that the great works of western civilization were the products of warped heterosexual minds? That the whole time Michelangelo was sculpting David he was really thinking about tits? Ever heard of someone named "Alexander the Straight"? Of course not.

Think about it: Have you ever known a truly happy "straight" person?

I asked a friend of mine, a professional, if he believes heterosexuals are capable of true happiness. "There's definitely something in the heterosexual psyche that forbids it," he told me. "In all my thirty years of practice, specializing in major emotional disorders, I have never encountered a heterosexual client who was happy, healthy, or had a normal childhood."

"One of my straight clients has thirteen distinct personalities," he added. "You'd think one of them would be happy."

Don't let your child be the next introduced to this sick addiction.

I don't think I need to inform you that there is an open and militant campaign among heterosexual activists to convert otherwise healthy kids to this depraved "lifestyle". You can see how the conspiracy unfolds: The teachers, coaches and nuns first introduce the children to the carnal lust of this depravity. Then, the societal pressure comes saying, "oh, no, it's okay, everybody's doing it -- be proud of your perversion." Then, camps are erected across the country with the sole purpose of brainwashing your child into believing that heterosexuality is an acceptable way of life. If your child hasn't been snared by their teen years, out come the "straight camps" to turn your boys around--or send someone else's out to marry your daughters.

Well, Ms. Peterson, Sister Giannini, I'm on to you. And I say, no more! Enough is enough! We're not going to take it anymore.

I did a lot of research into the heterosexual crisis, and I think I've come up with a few ways you can help ebb the tide of perversion that has left this country soaked in sin:

• Use slang words for heterosexuality interchangeably or in conjunction with ones for every undesirable human trait.
• Try to legislate the problem away. If straight people can't get married, and are forced to endure harassment in the workplace, securing housing and on the streets, there will be fewer of them. It's a long-proven fact.
• Don't allow them on TV. Or, if you do, make sure it's essentially a modern-day minstrel show consisting mostly of jokes about NASCAR, male promiscuity and country music.
• Don't allow them in movies. Or, if you do, make sure they die before the end of Act II.
• Vote only for candidates who make it clear that straight people are second-class citizens.
• Say things like, "Your kind's not welcome here."
• Think about straight sex a lot.
• Wait decades before addressing a health crisis in the straight community.
• Take out your bible and circle thirty reasons all straight people are going to hell. It's easy -- you can start with bacon. Put those reasons in a poorly-Xeroxed pamphlet, an amateurish webpage and several pieces of poster board. You now have your very own 527 Political Action Committee. In three election cycles, you'll have deep pockets and more power over national voter turnout than the DNC and RNC combined.
• Continue having covert straight sex. When it's over, treat your partner very badly. It helps if you call them something heterophobic.
• Make up your own ways. Remember: The more difficult we make their lives, the fewer of them there will be!

I'd like to see some horny, 79-year old nun try to take on a nation of Americans armed with that plan. And, you, little Ms. Teacher's-Got-An-Extra-Special-Pet? Time to run for the border.

Copy

Hitch Cock

Jackie Beat - Baby got front

Jackie Beat - Baby got front
Uploaded by jief75

A PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN SPEECH THAT WILL HELP YOU SWEEP THE POPULAR VOTE

- - - -

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Thank you very much for inviting me to your wonderful state here in the great heartland of America but also pretty near the coast. It is an honor to speak from this podium, in this storied courthouse, where so many profound legal judgments were handed down that they more or less canceled each other out.

I am a simple man with a Harvard degree and a solid understanding of tractors. When I was a young boy, my father took me on his knee and told me the principle that has guided my life ever since: "Agree with some things, disagree with other things." His was truly the Greatest Generation, along with a few that came before and a couple that have come since.

Why am I running for president of the United States of America? That's a good question, and perhaps there's no good way to answer it. Or perhaps there is a good way to answer it. Either way, it's a good question and I'm glad it was raised.

I want to talk a little bit about our nation's children. Before this speech, a young man named Stanley Exley came up to me. Stanley is a mechanic, a noble profession if there ever was one. Or perhaps he is a chemistry professor, also noble. He was holding his small daughter, Emily, an adorable 3-year-old who was recently diagnosed with leukemia. Stanley is a straight shooter, and he came up to me and asked me a question I'll never forget: "Do you like children?" And I looked him straight in the eye and said, "Yes, Stanley, I very much like children." Maybe that's not a popular opinion, but it's what I believe. And to those of you who would say, "I don't think children are our future," I must reply in the strongest of terms: "I disagree." Sometimes you have to take a stand for what you believe in.

Our country is sharply divided over a war that is being waged in a distant land. My views on this war are clear: it is happening, it is happening in Iraq, and it will continue to happen until it stops. Some people believe we should withdraw all the troops now. Some people believe we should stay and fight until we've established a stable nation. Some people believe we should gradually hand over control to the Iraqi government. I feel blessed to live in a country with so many beliefs.

On the subject of South African apartheid: I strongly, strongly, strongly oppose it. I'm glad it's gone, and I hope it never comes back.

The state of our economy is in flux. Every single day, the stock market goes up or goes down or stays the same. If elected president, I will ask the Federal Reserve to take a good long look at the interest rate and decide whether or not to change it. If elected president, I will create jobs where there are none, and where there are jobs, I will create internships.

Let us take actions that will make people happy.

Let us take actions that will make people healthy or perhaps have the private sector do it.

Let us take actions regarding taxes.

And let us move boldly so that our children and our children's children can look back and say, "I'm glad they moved boldly on this, this, and that."

Thank you.

MIDTERM EXAM ON KELLY, THE WOMAN WITH WHOM MY BOYFRIEND HAD AN AFFAIR

- - - -

Short Answer
(10 POINTS EACH)

1. Use the Reed-Frost formula to calculate how long it will probably take for Kelly to wind up destitute and riddled with venereal disease (round to the nearest year).

2. According to Dante, which concentric circle of Hell is Kelly most likely to end up in?

3. If Kelly had an affair with Zeus, what kind of animal do you think Hera would turn her into?

4. How long do you think Kelly would last in a fair fight with the author of this exam?

5. What if Kelly were blindfolded?

6. What do you suppose Kelly was telling her therapist all that time? Can you even imagine?

Essay
(15 POINTS EACH—CHOOSE TWO)

Heraclitus tells us that Pittacus, when he had Alcaeus in his power, released him, saying, "Forgiveness is better than revenge." Demonstrate how, in Kelly's case, this philosophy is a complete load of crap.

Write a 500-word essay detailing why, for the good of the general public, Kelly should be trapped and humanely euthanized.

Use the ethical theory of deontology to briefly describe how you would respond if Kelly had an affair with your boyfriend. Use the theory of utilitarianism to describe how you would silence any witnesses.

THE NEUROTIC PICKUP ARTIST

- - - -

Are your legs tired? Because you've been running through my mind all day. Just remember to stay plenty hydrated. We are in a bar, and drinking alcohol—though it may seem counterintuitive—can lead to dehydration. After all, it's a diuretic. So if you were running all day and now you're drinking martinis, you could be in danger without even realizing it. Are you having headaches? Is your urine dark? Where are you going?

- - - -

If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put U and I together. But I'd probably just give you a quick glance and then switch the alphabet back to the correct order. I mean, children today have enough to worry about without us changing the alphabet on them.

- - - -

What's that in your eye? Must just be a twinkle. But if it is in fact a piece of glass, we've got a problem. Corneal abrasions can be painful, let me tell you. Someone get me some water, we'll try to flush it out. Now blink a few times. That's it. Work with me here, it's better just to be safe.

- - - -

You must be a heck of a thief, because you stole my heart from across the room. I'm not going to report it, though, because our state is pretty tough on theft. A little too tough, if you ask me. And the rate of recidivism, particularly for stealing, is chilling. We need reform.

- - - -

You must be a light switch, because every time I see you, you turn me on. And I'm not so sure that's a good thing, what with global warming and all. I try to leave the lights off as much as possible, and definitely if I'm not in the room at the time. I even shut down my computer every night. You'd be surprised how the little things can make a big difference. Have you used those energy-efficient light bulbs?

- - - -

If you were words on a page, you'd be what they call "fine print." Now, that's not to say you are the much maligned and oft-ignored small-print disclaimer that the legal department of many companies slip in toward the bottom of their ads to stipulate the limitations of their offers. I was just using a little wordplay with "fine."

- - - -

Do you have a Band-Aid? Because I just scraped my knee falling for you. Do you have any hydrogen peroxide? Maybe one of those alcohol wipes? I don't want my knee to turn into a festering cesspool of bacteria. And I definitely don't want to get blood on that pretty dress of yours.

- - - -

What time do you have to be back in heaven? I'm not suggesting you're dead or that you look dead or even that you believe in the afterlife. I was just referencing the widely accepted notion that heaven (regardless of the religion) is a utopia. And since a utopia is a perfect place and everything in it is perfect, I just thought you'd be from there.

- - - -

Do you have a map? Because I keep getting lost in your eyes. When I come into a little money, I swear I'm going to buy one of those GPS navigation systems. I get so frazzled when I lose my bearings and then things snowball because I'm totally disoriented and I get more and more lost. Hold me, I'm scared.

OFF-DUTY SITUATIONS IN WHICH AN OFFICER OF THE LAW MIGHT USE HIS FANCY POLICE-REPORT JARGON TO IMPRESS PEOPLE

- - - -

I.

On a Date

Lisa, when I first observed you, I was promptly alerted to what a beautiful Caucasian individual you are. Your medium height, civil and polite manner, and fully alert hazel/green eyes indicated to me that you were a pleasant and nonthreatening female citizen. Initially, it was brought to my attention that you were in the company of another male party, in his mid-20s, and this caused me to abandon my pursuit and exit the premises (Cherry Hill Mall) without incident. However, you were subsequently spotted on a separate occasion without the male Caucasian party in question. At this time, I was able to execute a series of maneuvers that enabled me to detain you for a routine exchange of verbal communication. Upon further questioning, I was able to ascertain that you have been harboring certain feelings for myself. In light of your confession, I would like to articulate at this time that I am in possession of similar emotions for your person.

II.

After a Poetry Reading

The manner in which the individual has rendered these statements, freely and without signs of coercion, leads me to believe that the individual is in possession of moderate quantities of artistic and literary talent. I further noted on this occasion that the individual verbally articulated items of an explicitly personal and sexual nature. These confessions were relayed calmly and in nonrhyming verse. At the conclusion of this incident, it was my determination that this matter warranted further inquiry, so I approached the individual from the left. Words were exchanged, and it was indicated to me that this particular approach was utilized for purposes described by the party as "subversive galvanization of the soul." I suggested at this point in time that the individual might proceed in the future by perpetrating a rhyme of "modem" to accompany the word "scrotum." This advice was politely noted by the individual.

III.

While Selecting a Puppy
for a Nephew's Birthday

It was my initial assessment that the puppy on the left had been displaying violent behaviors toward the adjacent puppy in this enclosure. The perpetrator, known here as Puppy A, was observed forcibly biting Puppy B about the head, neck, and hindquarters. Striking with paws was also noted. The injuries sustained by Puppy B do not appear to be life-threatening, but warrant ongoing observation. Puppy A, which appeared to be without remorse for the earlier fisticuffs, then proceeded to excrete feces onto the cranium of Puppy C, which had been quietly occupying the northeastern sector of the aforementioned puppy enclosure. It was my further observation that this puppy, Puppy A, exhibited a dullness of coat, eyes, and temperament that is characteristic of illicit puppy-tranquilizer use. I proceeded to question Puppy A regarding the specific behaviors I had observed, as well as the overall manner in which this individual presented its person. Puppy A indicated to me at this time that he had been in receipt of certain canine anesthetic agents, legal for use by veterinarians, following a neutering operation. This information was corroborated by other puppies in the enclosure. I did not note any coercion on the part of Puppy A to elicit this corroboration. At this time, I opted to secure and transport Puppy A for the purposes of companionship and recreation pertaining to the young nephew of this officer.

Food Porn

Mexican Style Pickled Carrots

For the taco to really hit the spot, and not leave me lonely and forlorn, a mix pickle of carrots, radishes and jalapenos is essential.

For something that is so darned easy to whip up and so vital to the taco experience, why more restaurants refuse to have it on hand is well beyond my simple reasoning. Any ideas?

You on the other hand, my fiery little friends, can rest easy now that this recipe is on hand and ready for action…try it and revel in the simplicity of the crunchy, spicy, piquant, herbaceous perfection that goes so well with just about anything (and makes a delightful and unexpected side dish when in a pinch…) and of course…enjoy


4 large carrots, peeled and sliced on an angle
1 bunch radishes, washed and quartered
1-2 large jalapenos (more if you really like spicy), sliced into thick rounds
1 clove garlic, sliced thin
1 teaspoon Mexican oregano
1 small white onion, minced
1 cup white vinegar
1 cup water
½ teaspoon sugar
2 teaspoons salt


Toss together the carrots, radishes and jalapenos and fit into a large glass container (with a lid)

In a large sauce pan, combine the garlic, oregano, onion, vinegar, water, sugar and salt. Bring to a simmer for two minutes.

Carefully pour the vinegar mixture over the carrot mixture until it covers all the vegetables, and allow to cool on the counter top. (Leftover liquid should be discarded) When cool, cap and refrigerate for at least 3 hours. Can be kept for up to two months.

Yup, it’s that easy.


Makes 1-½ cups of fantastic.

Suggested Edits to the Movie 300

SUGGESTED EDITS
TO THE MOVIE 300
FOR THE DVD RELEASE OF
300: THE DEFINITIVE,
HISTORICALLY ACCURATE
CUT.

- - - -

Edit One

Original:

PERSIAN OFFICER: Spartans! Lay down your weapons!

KING LEONIDAS: PERSIANS! COME AND GET THEM!!

Revised:

PERSIAN OFFICER: Spartans! Lay down your weapons!

KING LEONIDAS: PERSIANS! First, I note that your speaking these words to me face to face strikes me as odd, given how such deliberations concerning détente would generally be handled by way of written correspondence between commanders, as opposed to direct discussions among field officers! Second, I say to you that, though our battle uniforms have been pared down to an unthinkably inefficient yet symbolically selfless and heroic combination of helmet, cape, sandals, and leather skirt, we still menacingly hold forth our metal swords and spears and say to you: COME AND GET THEM!!

Edit Two

Original:

PERSIAN EMISSARY: A thousand nations of the Persian Empire will descend upon you. Our arrows will blot out the sun.

STELIOS: (Laconically.) Then we will fight in the shade.

Revised:

PERSIAN EMISSARY: A thousand nations, hyperbolically speaking, of the Persian Empire will descend upon you. Our arrows will blot out the sun.

STELIOS: (Laconically.) Then we will fight in the shade.

PERSIAN EMISSARY: You filthy Spartan! That sounds exactly like something you might say, seeing as how you are noted, here in antiquity, for your pithily off-the-cuff laconic speech patterns!

STELIOS: (Laconically.) That is correct.

Edit Three

Original:

KING LEONIDAS: Spartans! Enjoy your breakfast and eat hearty, for tonight we dine in HELL!

Revised:

KING LEONIDAS: Spartans! Enjoy your breakfast of wheat bread, olive oil, and various legumes, for tonight we dine in HELL! For, you see, I am a sharp and seasoned military mind and I understand that this is merely a delaying action, that we have no hope for victory, and that we shall surely lose our lives! Probably today! And when I refer to "hell" I of course mean "Hades," our conception of the abode of all dead and not necessarily a place of eternal pain and torment! And that is where, tonight, we dine!

Edit Four

Original:

KING LEONIDAS: This is where we fight! This is where they die!

Revised:

KING LEONIDAS: Though heavy silt deposits over the coming centuries will probably cause the coastline to recede from the cliffs, this narrow stretch of beach is presently only a matter of yards from the slopes of Mount Kallidromos, and it is where we fight! Likewise, this conveniently narrow chokepoint is where they die! Although, as I previously mentioned, we ourselves are not likely to survive the day's battle, either!

Edit Five

Original:

SPARTAN ARMY: (Heading off for battle from Sparta to Thermopylae.) HOO-AH! HOO-AH! HOO-AH!

Revised:

SPARTAN ARMY: (Heading off for battle from Sparta to Thermopylae.) HOO-AH! HOO—

ASTINOS: Leonidas, my king. It appears we are marching southward. If I may be so bold, I am certain Thermopylae is north of Sparta.

KING LEONIDAS: Aww, son of a bitch! Spartans! Turn around, boys, before we end up in fuckin' Crete!

Edit Six

Original:

(No dialogue. Elephant-mounted Persians charge the Spartans along the cliffs of Mount Kallidromos.)

Revised:

DAXOS: (To Ephialtes, as elephant-mounted Persians charge the Spartans along the cliffs of Mount Kallidromos.) Elephants? All the way across the Hellespont? Seriously?

EPHIALTES: They must have brought them by ship.

DAXOS: Right. Fifty, sixty elephants by ship for hundreds upon hundreds of nautical miles. You sure?

EPHIALTES: Who are you—Zoology Joe? Just try to kill the damn things, will you?

You Are Boring The Shit Out Of Me

Bright Eyes

A free beer to the first one who tells me this song's origin. Leave your answer in the comments!

Joseph McManners (Bright Eyes)
Uploaded by MIC42720

Blood on Lips

Sing we praises.
To all that is humble
and yet whole, and all that is.
En scriptorium magnificat
We send our own, simple glow
unto the light of Truth,
"Let us play..."
Renaissance.
Out of heart,
thru thine eyes,
upon the void,
...applied.
With mine own two hands.
Laughter, love, beauty.
Made manifest on our patch
In the garden,
The roses bloom in their full
magnificence.
I wander arm in arm
with mine own true love.
Green and lush our love,
on its virgin flowering.
Can you be here with me,
can life be not what it seems?
Wind stirs the reeds,
flute toned Bachian fugues
speak an answer to me.
Unsubstantiated amour,
amidst resplendent perfumery,
I bend to kiss the thorned weed.

Being gay is as easy as 1-2-3!

A quick checklist for straights looking for the gay way to the top:

You don’t have to be gay to be gay on the inside. Anyone can do it! It just requires three things: (1) consider that you might be different from the way people think you are; (2) consider that you might be different from the way you think you are supposed to be; (3) be willing to accept that other people may disapprove of your choices, and realize that their approval doesn’t matter all that much anyway.

That’s right. Just remember, everyone, there’s no one as important or as smart or as absolutely fabulous as you. No one…

Bombs