Two people of the same-sex are in a sexual, albeit monogamous and happy relationship. In theory, there is nothing wrong with that. Happiness and love are prevalent in an honest and fair relationship. That's no different than the ones between a male and a female...right? Apparently not. Society seems to believe that gays and lesbians are taboo (if people are taboo, then who are they to judge themselves on their own merits?). Beyond the ignorance in disbarring homosexuality, there are clear benefits to a same-sex couple.
Those who vouch to outlaw homosexuality are clearly misguided. I mean after all, happiness and faith are restricted to those couples who possess a penis and a vagina; a biological one that is (lets face it, with a couple hundred dollars and a good surgeon, you can have as many penises as you desire). Surely that is the 'be-all to end-all'. But aside from that, these are the same people who claim that homosexuality goes against the image of God. Yes, let us justify the discrimination of a relatively happy people based on the principles of an invisible man whose existence lacks factual and scientific evidence. Faith is not evidence; faith is belief. Believing in something doesn't make it any more truer. Yeah, all of that sounds completely reasonable.
And above all, why do the heterosexual people really give a damn about homosexuals? In theory, wouldn't that mean more women and less competition for the men as well as more men for the women and less competition for the women? Clearly there is a void of logic somewhere in all of this. Or is it actually logical in the most misconstrued manner? Are those who are devoutly against the act of homosexuality covering up for their own insecurities? By being at the forefront of the crusade against gays, are these crusaders trying to protect their image by removing any hint at a possible closeted fear? There's nothing to hide if there's nothing wrong with it but so long as these people fight it, it will be perceived as wrong. Can you believe it? These people are fighting to make themselves look ignorant. Momma must be proud...
Women have been fighting for their rights for years and to this day, that battle is still being fought. But a lesbian relationship would fix all of that. Because they are both women, they would both 'wear the pants' in the relationship so-to-speak. Problem solved; women are just as equal and relevant as their spousal equivalent. Gender roles do not apply, no one is better than the other and no one is worse than the other. A standard of equality and fairness is established -- something that many heterosexual couples fail to establish because of the perceived gender roles between the two partners (women just love to stay in the kitchen and cook all day while the man goes out and basks in the glory of social acceptance!). It may take two to tango but no one ever said anything about penises or vaginas. As far as the sex goes, no one ever said it was a penis going into a vagina. If that's the case, clearly the term 'ORAL sex' is misleading.
I guess homosexuality should be shunned upon because they're 'different' or go against the norm. Death to homosexuals. They are not people. They are 'different'. Once people are done ridding the world of homosexuals, the vegetarians are next because they do not eat meat like 'normal' people. This is the perfect world we live in. But seriously, you can enjoy men, you can enjoy women, but notwithstanding your sex, if you're happy and not harming anyone else, shouldn't that be the only thing that matters?
Watch Them Form; Watch Them Unravel
3/10/09
She sees their penetrating eyes; they judge her. She is nothing to them; she is expendable. They are right; she is wrong -- so she feels.
Alone in this world, she has nothing but the flesh on her bones. She is nothing more than a shell of her former self. Walking alone on this dark, desolate road we call life, she aimlessly searches for her path. They think they know her; they see her now and they dash to their presumptuous conclusions. All she wants is to belong. Ever since she was a little girl, the burden of expectation was a weight on her shoulders, one she has never been able to get off of her ever since. 'Factory Girl' was what she deemed herself; threw away her individuality just to belong and conform to the idealistic views of those around her. All of that, just to belong and be accepted. One of them. That's all she ever wanted. Was it really that unrealistic of her?
So here she is now, sitting in her bed as the vengeful shadows of the nighttime sky swallow her alive. They say the people you love never go away but she was already gone. She tried so hard just to be like everyone else that she lost a grip of who she really was. She wasn't one of them. She was special. She had much more potential than them. She could have gone places. As she sits there, her palms are basins; catching every tear. She reminisces about the days where she was not one of them. Those were the days where she was absolutely no one; but herself.
They say the people you love never go away. She certainly didn't go away. She remained alive and jovial for the rest of her days. The love of those around her lit her path to better days. She realizes that she has a reason to live; she always had. They watched her form and they watched her unravel. Like a sickly attraction that you simply can't look away from, her life was just that; an attraction. The people you love never go away; she was always there. But now, she's back.
Alone in this world, she has nothing but the flesh on her bones. She is nothing more than a shell of her former self. Walking alone on this dark, desolate road we call life, she aimlessly searches for her path. They think they know her; they see her now and they dash to their presumptuous conclusions. All she wants is to belong. Ever since she was a little girl, the burden of expectation was a weight on her shoulders, one she has never been able to get off of her ever since. 'Factory Girl' was what she deemed herself; threw away her individuality just to belong and conform to the idealistic views of those around her. All of that, just to belong and be accepted. One of them. That's all she ever wanted. Was it really that unrealistic of her?
So here she is now, sitting in her bed as the vengeful shadows of the nighttime sky swallow her alive. They say the people you love never go away but she was already gone. She tried so hard just to be like everyone else that she lost a grip of who she really was. She wasn't one of them. She was special. She had much more potential than them. She could have gone places. As she sits there, her palms are basins; catching every tear. She reminisces about the days where she was not one of them. Those were the days where she was absolutely no one; but herself.
They say the people you love never go away. She certainly didn't go away. She remained alive and jovial for the rest of her days. The love of those around her lit her path to better days. She realizes that she has a reason to live; she always had. They watched her form and they watched her unravel. Like a sickly attraction that you simply can't look away from, her life was just that; an attraction. The people you love never go away; she was always there. But now, she's back.
Simpler Things Exist...
3/9/09
Efficient Manoeuvers For Assembling A Parched Wheat-based Meal
1. Activate the cerebral cortex and mentally configure which variety will be consumed
2. Harvest the necessary culinary proponents. Of course, the core wheat component will be necessary however, the rest is entirely chosen at your discretion
3. Position the two squares in such a manner that they are adjacent from one another, allowing you to effectively satisfy your consumption needs
4. Obtain a serrated blade for which you will be radially widening spreads onto your foundation
5. Proceed to slather your proponents in the manner of your choosing onto either section of the foundation for your meal
6. Obtain the adjacent wheat-square that does not contain garnishments and position it as if it were the roof to a lodging
7. Bundle your composition together and place it in a metallic, heat-emitting shelter that happens to so adequately accommodate your meal
8. Upon proper placement of your package, push the heat-activating lever in a downward motion and expect for the package to reappear out of the crevice, steaming and possessing a crisp outer-core
9. Place the heated composition onto a ceramic holster and with the serrated blade, proceed to divide your composition in a diagonal manner
10. Compliment your consumption with a liquid-based beverage and prepare to tastefully enjoy your culinary delight!
1. Think ahead and decide on which specific sandwich you want to make
2. Get all of the ingredients that you want to put in your sandwich
3. Put your two pieces of bread so that they're side-by-side
4. Grab a knife which you will be using to smear spreads onto your bread
5. Put all of your chosen ingredients onto one piece of bread
6. Put the other piece of bread on top of the one with ingredients
7. Grab a hold of your sandwich and put it into a toaster
8. Push the toaster into the down position and wait for your sandwich to come out
9. Put your toasted sandwich onto a plate and cut it diagonally in half
10. Gather a drink and prepare to enjoy your meal!
1. Activate the cerebral cortex and mentally configure which variety will be consumed
2. Harvest the necessary culinary proponents. Of course, the core wheat component will be necessary however, the rest is entirely chosen at your discretion
3. Position the two squares in such a manner that they are adjacent from one another, allowing you to effectively satisfy your consumption needs
4. Obtain a serrated blade for which you will be radially widening spreads onto your foundation
5. Proceed to slather your proponents in the manner of your choosing onto either section of the foundation for your meal
6. Obtain the adjacent wheat-square that does not contain garnishments and position it as if it were the roof to a lodging
7. Bundle your composition together and place it in a metallic, heat-emitting shelter that happens to so adequately accommodate your meal
8. Upon proper placement of your package, push the heat-activating lever in a downward motion and expect for the package to reappear out of the crevice, steaming and possessing a crisp outer-core
9. Place the heated composition onto a ceramic holster and with the serrated blade, proceed to divide your composition in a diagonal manner
10. Compliment your consumption with a liquid-based beverage and prepare to tastefully enjoy your culinary delight!
----------
How to effectively make a toasted sandwich1. Think ahead and decide on which specific sandwich you want to make
2. Get all of the ingredients that you want to put in your sandwich
3. Put your two pieces of bread so that they're side-by-side
4. Grab a knife which you will be using to smear spreads onto your bread
5. Put all of your chosen ingredients onto one piece of bread
6. Put the other piece of bread on top of the one with ingredients
7. Grab a hold of your sandwich and put it into a toaster
8. Push the toaster into the down position and wait for your sandwich to come out
9. Put your toasted sandwich onto a plate and cut it diagonally in half
10. Gather a drink and prepare to enjoy your meal!
Slang: An Evolution In Language
2/19/09
Here I am decked out in a pair of slightly-tarnished denims topped with a blue sweater emblazoned with the word 'YALE' across the front. It's 6PM and I find myself walking through this hellhole of a mall that I absolutely despise. But alas, I must take this route if I intend on making it home on time to enjoy the luxury that is Mom's homemade meatloaf. This mall is a fucking joke, littered to the brim with assholes and cunts alike. Conceited and ignorant assholes turn the aura of simple consumerism into toxic poison. These so-called 'people' are nothing more than empty shells; they may appear whole and functioning on the outside but deep down, they are worthless. Walking past these dry, lifeless bodies fills my body with rage and disgust. What pathetic cunts...
Just my fucking luck. I haven't even ventured through the mall for a minute and I see something that nearly sends me bursting into a fit of rage and uncontrollable violence; Jehovah's Witnesses. Who the fuck do they think they are preaching their shit to me -- I don't tell them how to live their lives, they shouldn't be telling me how to live mine. Look at the little shits dressed in their black dress-suits obviously infected with Black-Robe Disease thinking as if they're some smarmy judge with absolute authority. The whole notion of there being a greater being is pure bullshit in my eyes. If there is a greater being, you tell me why the world is so fucked up as it is. I've had missionaries tell me that my apatheism will lead me down a desolate and lonely road. Well you know what, they're the fucking idiots throwing their lives away to some fictional man. At the end of the day, I'd rather be a loner than a blind, ignorant sheep.
I manage to control myself and avoid being approached by the Witnesses but before long, I find myself staring at another caricature of normality. Call me old-fashioned, but fashion is a hobby for the wealthy. If you can't afford to look good, don't afford to look cheap. I'm casually strolling across the mall when I set eyes on this cheap-shit recessionista. Her idea of looking like Angelina Jolie involves plastering herself with cheap-grade lipstick and lining herself with a scarf that fails to mirror the style and class of Louis Vuitton. A fucking pathetic attempt to be chic and hip. When the economy is in the shits, the last thing we should be doing is going out and buying clothes to whore ourselves out. But if you do plan on doing that, the best thing to do would be to at least whore yourself out while protecting what little dignity you have through money. What a fucking whore...
And you think that the whore would be enough to piss me off but who should walk by but some fucking idiot -- who's clearly from a Middle-class upbringing -- dressed as if he's some urban, ghetto thug. Pants hanging well below his waistline, t-shirts that extend past his knees and a face that looks like he's on a constant high. Cunts like him piss me off. Who the fuck do they think they're fooling? I hear the fucker talk to his friends with an irritable Blaccent that clearly proves that not only is he about as tough as a marble tabletop, but he has never experienced anything more troubling than a math test. With a bandanna hanging out of his back-pocket and a ski mask tucked under his collar as if it were still skiiing season, the fucker's attempt at being sheisty makes me want to show him how tough he really is. Take him outside and beat the sense into him. It's cunts like him that prove to me there is no God. I oughta introduce this guy to that Jehovah's Witness.
Struggling to maintain my composure, I stroll past the food-court and put on my headphones. Being welcomed to the tunes of 'Karma Police' sure make the trip a lot easier. Society's a joke I tell myself as I rush through the murky swamp that houses the shops and boutiques. I think of Mom's dinner and hopefully she cooks something that makes the trip through this shithole worthwhile.
Just my fucking luck. I haven't even ventured through the mall for a minute and I see something that nearly sends me bursting into a fit of rage and uncontrollable violence; Jehovah's Witnesses. Who the fuck do they think they are preaching their shit to me -- I don't tell them how to live their lives, they shouldn't be telling me how to live mine. Look at the little shits dressed in their black dress-suits obviously infected with Black-Robe Disease thinking as if they're some smarmy judge with absolute authority. The whole notion of there being a greater being is pure bullshit in my eyes. If there is a greater being, you tell me why the world is so fucked up as it is. I've had missionaries tell me that my apatheism will lead me down a desolate and lonely road. Well you know what, they're the fucking idiots throwing their lives away to some fictional man. At the end of the day, I'd rather be a loner than a blind, ignorant sheep.
I manage to control myself and avoid being approached by the Witnesses but before long, I find myself staring at another caricature of normality. Call me old-fashioned, but fashion is a hobby for the wealthy. If you can't afford to look good, don't afford to look cheap. I'm casually strolling across the mall when I set eyes on this cheap-shit recessionista. Her idea of looking like Angelina Jolie involves plastering herself with cheap-grade lipstick and lining herself with a scarf that fails to mirror the style and class of Louis Vuitton. A fucking pathetic attempt to be chic and hip. When the economy is in the shits, the last thing we should be doing is going out and buying clothes to whore ourselves out. But if you do plan on doing that, the best thing to do would be to at least whore yourself out while protecting what little dignity you have through money. What a fucking whore...
And you think that the whore would be enough to piss me off but who should walk by but some fucking idiot -- who's clearly from a Middle-class upbringing -- dressed as if he's some urban, ghetto thug. Pants hanging well below his waistline, t-shirts that extend past his knees and a face that looks like he's on a constant high. Cunts like him piss me off. Who the fuck do they think they're fooling? I hear the fucker talk to his friends with an irritable Blaccent that clearly proves that not only is he about as tough as a marble tabletop, but he has never experienced anything more troubling than a math test. With a bandanna hanging out of his back-pocket and a ski mask tucked under his collar as if it were still skiiing season, the fucker's attempt at being sheisty makes me want to show him how tough he really is. Take him outside and beat the sense into him. It's cunts like him that prove to me there is no God. I oughta introduce this guy to that Jehovah's Witness.
Struggling to maintain my composure, I stroll past the food-court and put on my headphones. Being welcomed to the tunes of 'Karma Police' sure make the trip a lot easier. Society's a joke I tell myself as I rush through the murky swamp that houses the shops and boutiques. I think of Mom's dinner and hopefully she cooks something that makes the trip through this shithole worthwhile.
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