everybody goes through fads. be that fashion, activities, philosophical agendas, personalities, etc. well folks, i am sorry to have to admit this to everyone, but its a necessity: fads are gay. hahaha, just kidding. but this brings up another point. point 1a: i cant STAND people that use the word "gay" to imply 'worse than' or 'bad' or something negative. this frat-boy mentality that things that arent "cool" are "gay" and that if you dont agree with them or if youre not in their frat/club/group/gang/dance team/synchronized swimming team you are a 'fag' and youre gonna get served. people that make comments [and are serious about it, mind you] like "man, that is so gay" need to a) grow up, b) extent their vocabulary to ammend such statements into "man, that is so egregious" or "man, that is so insidious" or c) go to hell. which is probably the easiest thing for them to do. see you in hell.
anyway, back to my point about fads; everyone goes through them. and right now i am in the midst of one that is terrorizing everything i do. everytime i think, act, speak, move, etc, this fad is changing my life. my friends tried this at college sometimes, and of course it never held on for more than a day or a week or so. but alas, this does not stop me from trying. this fad?
i am trying to stop from speaking profanity. yeah, i know. me not cussing? oh, and yes. i call it "cussing" and not "cursing" or "swearing" or whatever else the fuck you want to call it. oh wait, whats that? did i just say fuck? hell no i didnt say it. i wrote it. and there's a big difference. i am trying to stop speaking profanity. i said nothing about writing it. so these babies [the blog posts] are fair fuckin' game.
so coupled with this attempt to stop using a 4-letter vocabulary is my new-found love [or fad, if you will] of a substitute word. "effin". its awesome. you can use it for anything. like, "effin a, dude". or "what the eff is that all about?" or even "i was so effed up last night i must have effin thrown up all over the effin place." thats one for you college kids out there. and its addictive. i now say "effin" even when i wouldnt have said "fucking" in my b.c. life [before cleanliness... not that im really clean, but you get the idea]. its like i have to keep punching it in anywhere it can go just so that it will work its way into my regular vocabulary and push out its more common and badass cousin. in fact, i am leading the development for our company's monthly newsletter. and one of the sections i have named is the "Financial News Alert" or FNA, aka "effin a". one of my more recent works of genius, if i do say so myself. my boss laughed for maybe 3 minutes straight. we have a pool going around the office to see who's the first person on our list of customers and contacts to pick up on this acronym and how long it will go unnoticed. point is, this effin word is getting over-used and out-played.
and just like anything that gets over-used and/or out-played [think, radio singles. you know, any good song you liked that made it big and then you hated. and then 14 year old girls started to like it. but only because the lead singer was cute/hot/their idol/such a strong role-model for women/the latest poster in their "teen beat" magazine] the word "effin" is getting old. and fast. so, like all fads, this one must come to an end. and effin soon. no, strike that; fucking soon. in fact, i bet by the time this post is actually posted my attempt to not cuss is going to be done. i will have cracked. actually, i know i have because this douchebag and his bitch-ass buddy almost hit me in my car last night, and they were on a bicycle. riding it all "ghetto-we-cant-afford-two-bikes-so-you-ride-on-the-handle-bars-while-i-stare-at-your-ass-instead-of-watching-the-road" style. and down a one-way street, the wrong fucking way. what a piece of shit. and so as he passed me and almost hit the person following me, i said at him [but not that he could hear b/c my windows were closed and the AC was crankin'] "what the FUCK are you doing?!?" and it was worth it. it was totally worth it.
well, that was fast. goodbye effin. i will remember you once a month when my newsletter is sent to 5000 CEOs, CIOs, CTOs, Sales Managers, Sales teams, and lots of other financial business types. you will always have a place in my heart. effin a.
"to me they all just look like stars"
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Monday, July 18, 2005
we're going down, down in an earlier round; and sugar we're going down swinging...
so, on my second business trip for my newish-job [2 1/2 months in] it wasnt quite as nice as my first trip. this first trip will be chronicled sometime later, cuz it was awesome. but since my second trip is more congnitively salient, i shall talk about this one first.
wednesday july 13th, 2005: wake up at 4:30am. take a shower, get dressed [in a suit] and pick up my tote bag with pyxis mobile [http://www.pyxismobile.com] marketing materials to take with me on my flight. dont forget my passport. that was clutch. also, bring along the iPod shuffle. 120 songs and small enough to conceal in places that airport security couldnt find if they wanted to. and it was free. but that is a trophy from business trip #1 of which we will not discuss right now. back on track: get to the airport by 5:30, and get my ticket. plane to toronto leaves at 6:30, and its on time. meet my director, we board the plane, and this sets the stage for my first trip to canada ever.
canada: everyone who goes up there says its pretty damn cool. toronto is supposed to be very european, people are nice, and there are strip clubs and nudie bars beyond belief. i, however, did not get to experience toronto. in fact, the only thing in toronto i got was some second-hand smoke and jet-fuel exposure. oh yeah, and an airport seat for about 30 hours. but we'll talk more about that later.
so i sleep for the entire 2 hour and 14 minutes of my flight up to canada. i miss the complimentary snack and orange juice and/or coffee. needless to say, im huckin' fungry. so after choosing between a pontiac grand am or a chrysler seabring [not convertable], we get on the road and head to the metropolis that is Waterloo, ON. "ON" stands for ontario. its a providence in canada. seriously. you should know that. for reals, yo. so, i choose the grand am cuz its brand new and GM cars always have kick-ass air conditioning systems. "but michael," you ask, "isnt canada supposed to be cool and not humid?" fuck yeah its supposed to be; but apparently because i happen to be visiting they have heat warnings for record highs and its so humid you have to push the air aside to walk through it. great. not that sweat stains on business shirts arent a great way of saying "partner with us" but uh... well, theyre not.
so we're driving in our american car and blasting the AC like its nobodys business. and im hungry, so we decide to pull off at an exit and get coffee and something to eat at "tim horton's". now, all canadians rave about tim horton's coffee and how good it is. this seems like a logical choice then. cuz mcdonald's coffee sucks balls. lemme tell you something: tim horton's coffee BLOWS. so i order one soon-to-be-recognized-as-shit-coffee and also a cheese crossiant. hey, we're in friggin' canada; they should have good crossiants. they're practically french [although thats not ontario, but whatever. same thing]. well, lets hear it for half-cooked crap crossiants!!! first off, timmy H does a good job of throwing off unsuspecting americans because the line for this place was redonkulously long and the inside was all nice and shit. very classy, san diego. not "sit-down restaraunt" classy, but classy enough for me to not get that "oh crap, i am going to get stabbed" feeling like i get at most dunkin' donuts. so then i take a bite of this crapssiant and im like "holy crap. what tastes like poo?" then, to wash it down i attempt to sip my 150762 degree celcius coffee. and they werent even curteous enough to give you one of them coffee sleeve thingies that reduce the nerve pain associated with second degree burns. nice. so i burn my tounge. awesome.
we get to waterloo. basically a town with RIM's [research in motion -- they make blackberrys] campus. its a bunch of buildings that RIM owns and develops their devices and software in. pretty nice. so we have a few meetings. nothing special. i shake some hands, pass out business cards, the usual. shall we get some lunch? alright. some RIM guys take me and my director out to a pub, where nobody orders a beer. im last to order my drink, and [being the new guy] im too big of a pussy to break the beer barrier. in hindsight, probably a good call. its "wing special" day, so they order 20 or so wings and then we get lunch. i had a chicken wrap thingy with some ranch-sauce dressing. why is this important? well, we'll get to that.
we drop the guys back off at RIM, snatch a free wi-fi blackberry, then head on our way back to the airport. our flight is at 8:30pm. its around 1:30pm. the drive takes an hour. so, maybe we'll head into toronto for a drink. one of ours salesguys was in town and he called us to get us to go out and party with him. awesome. right about that time, thats when it hits me; why the HELL does my stomach feel like its about to karate-chop me to death??? we pull over [at a tim horton's, no less] and i spend the next 15 minutes throwing up and/or hmmm... how do i put this...spending "quality time" in le toilette. after thats over, we decide to try and catch an earlier flight home. so we head to the airport. where upon i take another two trips to le toilette. and also find out that, of course, we cannot get on any earlier flight because they are all over-sold.
awesome.
so i spend the next 5 and 1/2 hours in the airport. sick. hot. pissed off. and not at a strip club. with no internet access. and no cell phone coverage [because umm... oh yeah. verizon doesnt work up in canada]. waiting to get home at 11pm at night. so, what IS the point of all this bitching?
canada sucks. i hate canada. im sure its great, but what did i get out of it besides the ebola virus? jack shit. and french canadian are worse. which is a good thing, because Q [ultimate team] know they are our bitches. thats right, Q. you will never beat the noise. fuck you canada. you suck. so i fly home and go to bed. thank you usa for your awesome fast food and air conditioning.
"i'll be your number one with a bullet. a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it"
wednesday july 13th, 2005: wake up at 4:30am. take a shower, get dressed [in a suit] and pick up my tote bag with pyxis mobile [http://www.pyxismobile.com] marketing materials to take with me on my flight. dont forget my passport. that was clutch. also, bring along the iPod shuffle. 120 songs and small enough to conceal in places that airport security couldnt find if they wanted to. and it was free. but that is a trophy from business trip #1 of which we will not discuss right now. back on track: get to the airport by 5:30, and get my ticket. plane to toronto leaves at 6:30, and its on time. meet my director, we board the plane, and this sets the stage for my first trip to canada ever.
canada: everyone who goes up there says its pretty damn cool. toronto is supposed to be very european, people are nice, and there are strip clubs and nudie bars beyond belief. i, however, did not get to experience toronto. in fact, the only thing in toronto i got was some second-hand smoke and jet-fuel exposure. oh yeah, and an airport seat for about 30 hours. but we'll talk more about that later.
so i sleep for the entire 2 hour and 14 minutes of my flight up to canada. i miss the complimentary snack and orange juice and/or coffee. needless to say, im huckin' fungry. so after choosing between a pontiac grand am or a chrysler seabring [not convertable], we get on the road and head to the metropolis that is Waterloo, ON. "ON" stands for ontario. its a providence in canada. seriously. you should know that. for reals, yo. so, i choose the grand am cuz its brand new and GM cars always have kick-ass air conditioning systems. "but michael," you ask, "isnt canada supposed to be cool and not humid?" fuck yeah its supposed to be; but apparently because i happen to be visiting they have heat warnings for record highs and its so humid you have to push the air aside to walk through it. great. not that sweat stains on business shirts arent a great way of saying "partner with us" but uh... well, theyre not.
so we're driving in our american car and blasting the AC like its nobodys business. and im hungry, so we decide to pull off at an exit and get coffee and something to eat at "tim horton's". now, all canadians rave about tim horton's coffee and how good it is. this seems like a logical choice then. cuz mcdonald's coffee sucks balls. lemme tell you something: tim horton's coffee BLOWS. so i order one soon-to-be-recognized-as-shit-coffee and also a cheese crossiant. hey, we're in friggin' canada; they should have good crossiants. they're practically french [although thats not ontario, but whatever. same thing]. well, lets hear it for half-cooked crap crossiants!!! first off, timmy H does a good job of throwing off unsuspecting americans because the line for this place was redonkulously long and the inside was all nice and shit. very classy, san diego. not "sit-down restaraunt" classy, but classy enough for me to not get that "oh crap, i am going to get stabbed" feeling like i get at most dunkin' donuts. so then i take a bite of this crapssiant and im like "holy crap. what tastes like poo?" then, to wash it down i attempt to sip my 150762 degree celcius coffee. and they werent even curteous enough to give you one of them coffee sleeve thingies that reduce the nerve pain associated with second degree burns. nice. so i burn my tounge. awesome.
we get to waterloo. basically a town with RIM's [research in motion -- they make blackberrys] campus. its a bunch of buildings that RIM owns and develops their devices and software in. pretty nice. so we have a few meetings. nothing special. i shake some hands, pass out business cards, the usual. shall we get some lunch? alright. some RIM guys take me and my director out to a pub, where nobody orders a beer. im last to order my drink, and [being the new guy] im too big of a pussy to break the beer barrier. in hindsight, probably a good call. its "wing special" day, so they order 20 or so wings and then we get lunch. i had a chicken wrap thingy with some ranch-sauce dressing. why is this important? well, we'll get to that.
we drop the guys back off at RIM, snatch a free wi-fi blackberry, then head on our way back to the airport. our flight is at 8:30pm. its around 1:30pm. the drive takes an hour. so, maybe we'll head into toronto for a drink. one of ours salesguys was in town and he called us to get us to go out and party with him. awesome. right about that time, thats when it hits me; why the HELL does my stomach feel like its about to karate-chop me to death??? we pull over [at a tim horton's, no less] and i spend the next 15 minutes throwing up and/or hmmm... how do i put this...spending "quality time" in le toilette. after thats over, we decide to try and catch an earlier flight home. so we head to the airport. where upon i take another two trips to le toilette. and also find out that, of course, we cannot get on any earlier flight because they are all over-sold.
awesome.
so i spend the next 5 and 1/2 hours in the airport. sick. hot. pissed off. and not at a strip club. with no internet access. and no cell phone coverage [because umm... oh yeah. verizon doesnt work up in canada]. waiting to get home at 11pm at night. so, what IS the point of all this bitching?
canada sucks. i hate canada. im sure its great, but what did i get out of it besides the ebola virus? jack shit. and french canadian are worse. which is a good thing, because Q [ultimate team] know they are our bitches. thats right, Q. you will never beat the noise. fuck you canada. you suck. so i fly home and go to bed. thank you usa for your awesome fast food and air conditioning.
"i'll be your number one with a bullet. a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it"
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
ridin' low, ridin' low, ridin' faster...
people often ask me questions such as "michael, why do you post the things you do on your blog". or "how do you come up with such original material". or "why are you wearing a dress?" and by "often" i mean it probably happened twice. and i was like "what the hell? people actually read this shit?" but anyway; these are all pretty valid questions. if there is anything i have learned in my years of popularity and stardom, its that you gotta cater to the fans. and when the fans want to know something, sometimes you gotta throw them a bone. give 'em what they want. so, lets get to it. which of these never-ending questions will i address today? after putting together a committee of international supermodels and conducting a survey on this, what we came up with was the following: "goddamn it dude. why the hell are your posts so fucking long? its like reading a book. and i cant even read."
hmmm...why are these posts so long? is it due to my high school english minimum-page requirements? was i taught this verbose and wordy style of writing early in life? do i like to read myself talk? have i ever gotten a pedicure in chinatown? well, this dives into a deeper issue. one where we may not like to look. but lets be honest, we all see it but tend to ignore it. everyone [whether or not they like to admit it] is pretty upset about it, and i want to forewarn you before you read the following that you may be personally offended and want to throw things or spit or commit other such pimative behavior. mailbox bashing is one of these. poop throwing is the other. do not hold my friendship with you in jeopardy because of this; all i am doing is telling the truth. and some of us need to hear the truth from time-to-time. thats not a reason to get upset, but to face the issue and move on. to fix it. but i have to say it. here goes:
jessica simpson and nick lachey having marital problems. i know, i know. i couldnt sleep for days either. nyquil? oh, ok. i'll try that. thanks for the suggestion. do they have a lance-band for them? no? hmmm... someone should make one of those. moving on.
my posts are so long because i believe that you should only do things that are worth doing right. go big or go home. so when i want to talk about something, its because i have a lot to say on a subject. that and i tend to hit a shitload of tangents along the way. which may or may not be a good thing. im not saying its better than other blogs. just bigger. longer, per sae. my blog has more girth, if you will. hits on all spots. ok, now that i slipped those subtle penis references into this one to make up for years of insecurities in that area of my physical capacity, i can move on. er, i mean, this guy i know does. no, really... ummm...
point is: there are two kinds of blogs. those that chronicle day-to-day life and are like "man, i am in a great mood today". or "last night, i had an unplesant sexual episode with the cleaning lady from the 4th floor. i forget her name, but she left her dentures here". and then there are those that express ideas or opinions on subjects and look for comments or concerns to try and spark debate or thought of some kind. mine is neither of those, but falls into the ever-present grey area of "pointless banter that trys to sound intelligent but falls about two poops short of regularity".
there are a few things that these blogs are pretty good at. one seems to be upsetting people. and not even the people i mean to upset. but im pretty sure that situation has been rectified. the other thing is cursing. im really fucking good at that. and talking about pointless shit but making it seem [to me, at least] like there is some kind of way in this universe that the issue may, may hold a little bit of weight. im also pretty good at complementing myself. lets be honest here, all blogs seem to be are methods of allowing people to talk about how right they are at something or other. and im pretty sure i do a good job at that. in fact, i know i do. hell yes, im awesome!! so; lemme take a minute to pat myself on the back. a little to the left. down. down. a little more. a little too far... back up a little. ok, right there. ahhhh.
so, did i answer your questions? you didnt have any questions? you dont care? hmmm.... shit. well, i guess maybe i'll cut this posting 'short'. is that alright with you? good. you sure? you want a slurpie? ok. well, i hear 7-11 has good ones. you should check them out. enjoy.
"...the more i talk about it, the less i do control"
hmmm...why are these posts so long? is it due to my high school english minimum-page requirements? was i taught this verbose and wordy style of writing early in life? do i like to read myself talk? have i ever gotten a pedicure in chinatown? well, this dives into a deeper issue. one where we may not like to look. but lets be honest, we all see it but tend to ignore it. everyone [whether or not they like to admit it] is pretty upset about it, and i want to forewarn you before you read the following that you may be personally offended and want to throw things or spit or commit other such pimative behavior. mailbox bashing is one of these. poop throwing is the other. do not hold my friendship with you in jeopardy because of this; all i am doing is telling the truth. and some of us need to hear the truth from time-to-time. thats not a reason to get upset, but to face the issue and move on. to fix it. but i have to say it. here goes:
jessica simpson and nick lachey having marital problems. i know, i know. i couldnt sleep for days either. nyquil? oh, ok. i'll try that. thanks for the suggestion. do they have a lance-band for them? no? hmmm... someone should make one of those. moving on.
my posts are so long because i believe that you should only do things that are worth doing right. go big or go home. so when i want to talk about something, its because i have a lot to say on a subject. that and i tend to hit a shitload of tangents along the way. which may or may not be a good thing. im not saying its better than other blogs. just bigger. longer, per sae. my blog has more girth, if you will. hits on all spots. ok, now that i slipped those subtle penis references into this one to make up for years of insecurities in that area of my physical capacity, i can move on. er, i mean, this guy i know does. no, really... ummm...
point is: there are two kinds of blogs. those that chronicle day-to-day life and are like "man, i am in a great mood today". or "last night, i had an unplesant sexual episode with the cleaning lady from the 4th floor. i forget her name, but she left her dentures here". and then there are those that express ideas or opinions on subjects and look for comments or concerns to try and spark debate or thought of some kind. mine is neither of those, but falls into the ever-present grey area of "pointless banter that trys to sound intelligent but falls about two poops short of regularity".
there are a few things that these blogs are pretty good at. one seems to be upsetting people. and not even the people i mean to upset. but im pretty sure that situation has been rectified. the other thing is cursing. im really fucking good at that. and talking about pointless shit but making it seem [to me, at least] like there is some kind of way in this universe that the issue may, may hold a little bit of weight. im also pretty good at complementing myself. lets be honest here, all blogs seem to be are methods of allowing people to talk about how right they are at something or other. and im pretty sure i do a good job at that. in fact, i know i do. hell yes, im awesome!! so; lemme take a minute to pat myself on the back. a little to the left. down. down. a little more. a little too far... back up a little. ok, right there. ahhhh.
so, did i answer your questions? you didnt have any questions? you dont care? hmmm.... shit. well, i guess maybe i'll cut this posting 'short'. is that alright with you? good. you sure? you want a slurpie? ok. well, i hear 7-11 has good ones. you should check them out. enjoy.
"...the more i talk about it, the less i do control"
Friday, July 01, 2005
its so cold in this house...
so i was talking to a buddy of mine on IM. well, 'buddy' is a relative term. he plays on my ultimate team [new noise] with me. and tells me my taste in music is too "mainstream" so he then proceeds to give me lots of this 'underground indie' that is less in-the-spotlight than the music i already listen to is. and comments a lot on these blogs i do. and is mean to me in these comments. and i think the reason is because he is in love with me. and this causes him cognitive dissonence because he is getting married [to a girl] in a few months. so he has to lash out at me to convince himself he's not in love with me and that marrying this girl is the right thing to do. i wont mention any names, but i'll give you a hint: it starts with a mark and ends with a slivka. come on mark slivka, youre not fooling anyone. KEG STAND. ok, so anyway. im talking to mark and in my constant efforts to gain an invite to this wedding [since apparently none of his frisbee friends are cool enough to invite...or maybe its just me], he mentions something about buying the wedding bands this past wednesday.
my comment to that is "well, im sure that wasnt the most expensive part." and then i qualify my statement with one of the standard "well, comparitively. im sure it cost a good amount of money, but the engagement ring is the big $$, right?" and he comes back with something like "its all expensive, but yeah. the engagement ring is the big dent" or something like that [i wasnt really paying attention, i think someone next to me farted]. so my question back to him was if they had some sort of federal funding for people getting married. kind of like student loans, but you know; marriage financial aid. i then commented on how that would be a good subject for a blog post. annnnnnd here we are. see, the back-story IS necessary. so yeah, this is my idea. not like i need it anytime soon or anything. geezus, relax people. mom, stop crying. im not getting married to my roommate. i think my point was more this:
the government [namely George W. Douche's administration] is going through these great lengths to define for us [us being the general public who clearly cant think for ourselves] what a marriage is. the union between a man and a woman, right? well, if they get to make laws and pass acts and kill for oil so they can define this for the citizens of the USA [wait, werent we a country founded on the idea of getting away from religious and lifestyle persecution? away from people telling us how to live our lives? just a hint; a reminder of our past, in case anyone forgot], shouldnt they help pay for this 'institution'? does that make sense?
i mean, if the government wants to be so involved in what people can and cant do in regards to living together, then they should put their money where their mouth is. give money to us heterosexuals to help promote this man-woman union. i say, give every couple thats getting married like, $40-50k. tax-free, by the way. that way guys can buy big-ole rocks for their baby's mommas, and then women can have sweet bridesmaids dresses and tons of flowers. and unicorns painted on each of their finger and toe nails. and awesome bbq and open bars for the receptions. thats clutch. open bar = key. so with the government funding marriage, they get to impose their bullshit guidelines and we get awesome rings and parties out of the deal. that seems fair, right? i mean, if they get to tell us what to do, we might as well get some kick-back out of it, correct? am i wrong?
sure, it sucks for those people who either a) arent heterosexual or b) dont want to get married or c) already GOT married, but whatever. the US government doesnt care about those people anyway. here's the thing: i just know that if i want to get DJ Sasha at my reception, its gonna take some major casholah. cashito. dollarinies. and i certainly dont have that shit right now. so, come on congress. step up to the plate. mikey needs some sweetie tunes, some thumpin' bass, and six schlitzes... or whatever's free. you know what im talking about. but youve got some time, US government, cuz im not getting married for a while. so, no rush.
so, just a wild guess here [im gonna go out on a limb]: the government is most likely not going to give us money to suppliment our weddings. sorry to disappoint people [i know, i know... you can cry on my shoulder any tuesday or thursday from 11:00-11:15pm], but its just not going to happen. so if we get nothing out of the deal, then i dont think they have any place passing laws defining what marriage can or cant be.
and no, im not saying marriage can be between a man and a sheep. goddamn i hate the religous Right. as david cross said, there is an ignorance and stupidity that runs DEEP in this country; for now lets call it, ummm.. i dont know... "southern baptists". point is, we're not retarded. marriage isnt going to become something between two random things because someone down south feels that two men or women getting married is a bastardization of their sacred union [so sacred, mind you, that over 50% of marriages today end in divorce]. but if two people love each other, and those two people just happen to be homosexual, i think they should be able to get married. why not? i put money down that if studies were done they would show that gay couples that get married a) are more successful than the average 'straight' couple career-wise, b) have a healthier relationship than the average 'straight' couple, and c) have marriages that last longer/are more successful than the average 'straight' couple. and i think all those against gay marraige know this as well. and it scares them. and isnt there something in our declaration of independence about the 'pursuit of happiness' and all 'men being created equal'? but anyway; im not here to start arguing these points. i am here to rock.
so yeah. point of this post is this: mark; invite me to your wedding. if not, i will be standing outside of the ceremony blasting "ratatat" through Marshall full-stacks and break-dancing on cardboard all fucking night. thats not a threat, thats a promise.
"we've got crosses on our eyes; for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse"
my comment to that is "well, im sure that wasnt the most expensive part." and then i qualify my statement with one of the standard "well, comparitively. im sure it cost a good amount of money, but the engagement ring is the big $$, right?" and he comes back with something like "its all expensive, but yeah. the engagement ring is the big dent" or something like that [i wasnt really paying attention, i think someone next to me farted]. so my question back to him was if they had some sort of federal funding for people getting married. kind of like student loans, but you know; marriage financial aid. i then commented on how that would be a good subject for a blog post. annnnnnd here we are. see, the back-story IS necessary. so yeah, this is my idea. not like i need it anytime soon or anything. geezus, relax people. mom, stop crying. im not getting married to my roommate. i think my point was more this:
the government [namely George W. Douche's administration] is going through these great lengths to define for us [us being the general public who clearly cant think for ourselves] what a marriage is. the union between a man and a woman, right? well, if they get to make laws and pass acts and kill for oil so they can define this for the citizens of the USA [wait, werent we a country founded on the idea of getting away from religious and lifestyle persecution? away from people telling us how to live our lives? just a hint; a reminder of our past, in case anyone forgot], shouldnt they help pay for this 'institution'? does that make sense?
i mean, if the government wants to be so involved in what people can and cant do in regards to living together, then they should put their money where their mouth is. give money to us heterosexuals to help promote this man-woman union. i say, give every couple thats getting married like, $40-50k. tax-free, by the way. that way guys can buy big-ole rocks for their baby's mommas, and then women can have sweet bridesmaids dresses and tons of flowers. and unicorns painted on each of their finger and toe nails. and awesome bbq and open bars for the receptions. thats clutch. open bar = key. so with the government funding marriage, they get to impose their bullshit guidelines and we get awesome rings and parties out of the deal. that seems fair, right? i mean, if they get to tell us what to do, we might as well get some kick-back out of it, correct? am i wrong?
sure, it sucks for those people who either a) arent heterosexual or b) dont want to get married or c) already GOT married, but whatever. the US government doesnt care about those people anyway. here's the thing: i just know that if i want to get DJ Sasha at my reception, its gonna take some major casholah. cashito. dollarinies. and i certainly dont have that shit right now. so, come on congress. step up to the plate. mikey needs some sweetie tunes, some thumpin' bass, and six schlitzes... or whatever's free. you know what im talking about. but youve got some time, US government, cuz im not getting married for a while. so, no rush.
so, just a wild guess here [im gonna go out on a limb]: the government is most likely not going to give us money to suppliment our weddings. sorry to disappoint people [i know, i know... you can cry on my shoulder any tuesday or thursday from 11:00-11:15pm], but its just not going to happen. so if we get nothing out of the deal, then i dont think they have any place passing laws defining what marriage can or cant be.
and no, im not saying marriage can be between a man and a sheep. goddamn i hate the religous Right. as david cross said, there is an ignorance and stupidity that runs DEEP in this country; for now lets call it, ummm.. i dont know... "southern baptists". point is, we're not retarded. marriage isnt going to become something between two random things because someone down south feels that two men or women getting married is a bastardization of their sacred union [so sacred, mind you, that over 50% of marriages today end in divorce]. but if two people love each other, and those two people just happen to be homosexual, i think they should be able to get married. why not? i put money down that if studies were done they would show that gay couples that get married a) are more successful than the average 'straight' couple career-wise, b) have a healthier relationship than the average 'straight' couple, and c) have marriages that last longer/are more successful than the average 'straight' couple. and i think all those against gay marraige know this as well. and it scares them. and isnt there something in our declaration of independence about the 'pursuit of happiness' and all 'men being created equal'? but anyway; im not here to start arguing these points. i am here to rock.
so yeah. point of this post is this: mark; invite me to your wedding. if not, i will be standing outside of the ceremony blasting "ratatat" through Marshall full-stacks and break-dancing on cardboard all fucking night. thats not a threat, thats a promise.
"we've got crosses on our eyes; for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse"
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