|
Friday, November 28, 2003
THANKFUL
Oh, come on! Who does he think he's kidding?
Waking up this morning and reading the news that "President" Bush traveled to Iraq for Thanksgiving with the troops was enough to make me want to vomit up the amazing meal I ate yesterday. I saw a bit of footage of it, and I think he spoke, but I didn't bother to turn up the volume. What was he going to say? "See, Iraq isn't nearly as dangerous as the newsmedia would have you think?"
I suppose we should just be glad that he didn't try and quote FDR: "We have nothing to fear but fear itself" has way too many syllables for him not to mangle it beyond recognition.
Having the Moron-In-Chief in Iraq yesterday and back in the U.S. today is a slap in the face to every poor sonovabitch in uniform still stuck back there. "Thanks for fighting and dying, troops! Maybe at Christmas we'll send Charo!" If Bush can haul his idiot ass to Iraq, then we can haul some soldiers home to spend time with their families...permanently.
But of course, the charge ahead for controlling the Middle East remains unabated. Our friends and loved ones continue to die on a daily basis. And Bush sat at his Texas ranch today in his little cocoon of safety, not giving a flying fuck about the deaths being charged to his soul, because he thinks God is talking to him (through Dick Cheney and Karl Rove, no doubt).
So while I had one of the best Thanksgivings of my life yesterday, one that will stay with me for life, I can't put the plight of my fellow Americans aside. So I continue to pray for their safe and speedy return, and hope that the end of the Bush Administration draws nigh a year from now. There's been enough death, thanks.
Marc@MarcMason.com
8:45 PM
(0) comments
Friday, November 21, 2003
Charge!
I want to see charges brought, and I want some heads on a plate.
Look, Michael Jackson crossed the line into a freakdom from which there is no turning back years ago. He's already been charged with the same crimes once before (and bought off his accuser), so there's no reason for any person with an ounce of sense to ever leave their kid alone with this guy. It wouldn't be so much of an issue if Jackson had been caught fucking one of the llamas on his property, but this is a kid, goddammit. So I reiterate: charges need to be brought against the real guilty party here: this kid's parents.
You wanna pimp your kid's ass to a freak? Fuck you. Don't bitch if the fucking deal goes sour. You want to give your kid a nice normal childhood? Fuck you. Don't send your kid off to spend the weekend with a forty-year old man who has openly admitted that he lets the kids who stay over sleep in his fucking bed. Either way, this kid's parents get the biggest "Fuck you!" that I can offer. Assholes.
But they aren't the only guilty party here. Looking beyond them, and beyond Jackson, how about the charities that still do business with El Freako? Look, I appreciate that charities need every little bit of help that they can get. But there's an ethical line that needs to be drawn. Would they accept a suitcase full of cash from a cocaine dealer? No. So why do they continue to accept the assistance of an accused child molester? Where is that little voice in the backs of their heads telling them that maybe there's a higher principle that needs to be followed?
Or maybe they should start taking the suitcases full of cash.
All I know is that there are assholes a plenty in this case, and they aren't all named Jackson.
Marc@MarcMason.com
9:49 PM
(0) comments
Friday, November 14, 2003
How To Drive Someone Insane In 3 Easy Steps
1. Take away their entertainment for three days. This week my satellite went on the fritz and I lost most of my favorite channels for the better part of three days. Live with a woman who has children who think TV is God, and you start to see the problem. I enjoyed having the time to read, personally.
2. Attempt to fix the satellite yourself by trying to use a combination of the recycling bin and a chair to get on the roof. So I don't own a ladder...big deal! It was perfectly safe as far as I was concerned.
Women. Hmph.
3. Dream cheat on her. Have her dream that she walks in on you nailing some other woman in the guest bedroom. Have her dream this repeatedly through the night. Take this as seriously as possible, because she's actually nauseous and hurt by how it made her feel, and laughing would be really fucking wrong.
So if you see Rebecca anytime soon, and you wonder why her right eye is red and twitching, now you know. And I didn't have to lift a finger to cause it.
Marc@MarcMason.com
11:14 PM
(0) comments
Friday, November 07, 2003
Potpourri
D-Day is December 14th.
I am a train wreck of heartbreak and sadness right now. I barely remember what happened during a day by the time the day is over.
I worked out a good chunk of the logistics for a writing proposal I've been mulling while walking the other day, and when I sat down to write it out it had all left me. Characters, situations, full story concepts; poof.
My brain is not firing on all cylinders.
Train wreck bigger than me: Average Joe on NBC this past Monday. Poor bastards making assholes out of themselves in order to get a hottie to pay attention to them, but instead of preening in a bar, they do shit like tapdance and give her action figures as gifts. Fucking horrible. But you couldn't take your eyes off of it. I wanted to turn away, but I couldn't. I kept thinking that it couldn't get worse, but it just kept sliding downhill.
My life is that of an average Joe. Fuck.
Marc@MarcMason.com
8:11 PM
(0) comments
Saturday, November 01, 2003
SHHHH. Sleeping. Long week. Kid had appendix out. Not a single trick-or-treater last night. Sleeping. Boo!
Marc@MarcMason.com
1:58 PM
(0) comments
|
