Don't google the show. Don't google any characters. Don't read any fan communities or interviews with actors. You may not want to see spoilers about events in Children of Earth.

I should go back and correct all the homophone confusion I've posted on the Internets in the past few months. I also should refrain from typing while angry.

Most people who read my eljay know that my politics are a little to the left of center. In fact, I consider ZOMGMOOZLEMSOCIALIST to be a DINO. So I'd like you to read more than one source on what's goin on in Honduras after you see what I say below.

What's happening in Honduras is not a US backed coup to unseat a left leaning head of state. It's the Honduran military acting at the request of the Honduran supreme court and legislature after the head of state tried to pull some sneaky, backdoor, unconstitutional shit that far exceeded his powers. It's exactly the kind of thing that folks decrying the 'coup' wish had happened nearly 8 years ago instead of the PATRIOT act. So please to be shutting the fuck up about Zelaya being a victim of a US backed military coup.

Celebrate by remembering who isn't one of your countrymen. For example:
Lady GaGa
Justin Timberlake
Scott Stantis
Bruce Tinsley
Ronald Reagan

Now, don't you feel proud to be Canadian?

The only thing more annoying than Perez Hilton is all these cunt peanuts sucking the wet farts out of his ass on Twitter.

Normally, I put these behind a filter. Today, I share my crazy with all of you. Don't you all feel privileged?

I dreamed that John and I went on a CLA cruise. One of the stops was in Nicaragua. While we were there, there was a coup. As it says clearly on your ticket, the boat put off our luggage and left without us. We stole a car and drove to California because we didn't want to go to Texas.

...and it turns out to be hot the longer you look at it? (Do I need to point out that this is NSFW?)

It hit me recently that there are stages of body and aging acceptance that you cross over. You start losing your hair, and you wear hats at first. Eventually, you say "fuckit" and only wear hats when you don't feel like showering before running to the store for smokes. You get one or two gray hairs, and you start pricing Just for Men. You get two dozen, and you say "Fuck it, I've earned these bitches." You get heboobies, and you don't want to take your shirt off. You get a beer gut and say, "don't make me earmuff you with my mantits."

Three hairs on my chest recently turned white. I'm not ready for this shit.

I am, however, in tragedy fatigue between the DOMA statement, personal drama, and ignorant mother fuckers who need to be stabbed in the throat with a pen.

So, I am enjoying the time spent in the park exermacisin and stuff. Today, I didn't have any women run from me when I nodded or said hi. One guy did grab his girlfriend when they saw me. I had just done a sprint, so I didn't have the breath to laugh. I did a total of 90 minutes with six 30s sprints. Actually, it was technically 6@30 and 1@25 because I had almost run over some careless girls' dog. After the run/walk, despite looking like I'd just outrun a tiger, I felt fab. I hadn't eaten before run/walking, so the first thing I did when I got home was have a cup of yogurt with a banana, raisins, and sunflower seeds. I've showered again, and I'm about to do the dishes and go do the laundry I've been putting off for the last little while. If John wants to go walkies later, I might go walkies with him. He probably won't feel up to it, though.

Dear boys, I ain't yo daddy.
Dear daddy bears, I ain't yo boy.
Dear women between 30-50, don't flatter yourself, and boy, do you have me pegged wrong.
Dear cubby straight guy who works for the Cayce Public Works department, yeah, you're cute, but I wasn't flirting with you. I try to force myself to be friendly out in public. You never know who's going to need to dial 911 for you.

I'm happy to provide park visitors with the comedy gold that is a nearly 300 lb man running intervals. I'm so glad that folks can appreciate it. I'm also glad that women can mistake a huffing and puffing fat guy for someone who wants to ravish them. If I'd had the breath to spare, I would have told one woman not to flatter herself. I'm not waving or saying hi to you because I think your sexy, ya mad old cow. I'm doing it to force myself to be friendly.

I also found out something very interesting today. The slaughter house for Goldkist or whatever they're calling themselves these days butts up against the park. Not only that, there's a drainage pipe that runs under the walk way which drains into the river. Oh, what a lovely scent. And of course, when I reached that point, it was time for me to do the first running interval. I almost puked, but I ran anyways.

I'd have posted about this lovely bit of urban planning in plants_hate_you, but I can't find my camera. Also, it wasn't really about plants. My camera may have been stolen. I don't know yet. I'm still looking for it.

I've got a chicken in the crock pot with soy sauce, sake, mirin, and lemon. I also bought a dozen eggs. I'm not giving up on the vaginatarian diet. I'm just enjoying some meat this week.

Burn the scalp of that old God Fearin Krischun woman whose hair your fixin. Leave sardines in the cushions of the room your decorating. Rub mangiferin on that wedding bouquet. Burn shit down. Tear shit up. Fuck being that sweet, non threatening faggot or dyke. Fuck asking politely. Demand.

--- anjel_kitty wrote:
Hi,
Someone drew my attention to your little community that you deciede to make to simply bash me and my plants. I'm not sure why you feel this is a constructive or worthwhile venture of your time. I don't want to feel the need to ban you from Apartmentgarden (since you decided to pick a fight with the moderator, WTF) but I will if anyone else ends up on this snarky hateful community.

Just letting you know

Now you can save money and look beautiful in these hard economic times.

Early this morning during one of the few smoke breaks I was able to take, I came back into the building to see Hopkins had slipped in at some point in the evening. He was hopping around the foyer. I was pressed for time, so I made a note to come back and scoop him up. I went to my desk and got shat upon with work. By the time I got a chance to go get Hopkins, it was an hour past time to go home.

I spotted him by the door sitting perfectly still. At first I thought he was scared. Earlier, he'd hopped around off to the side when I walked past him. This time, he just sat there. I knelt down near him with a piece of paper and tried to coax him to hop onto it. Then I noticed the faint traces of a shoe's tread on him. He was alive, but just barely. His back left leg was broken. I took him outside. I didn't have the heart to put him out of his misery. Hopefully, a bird will come along and kill him quickly.

and here is proof.

I'm going to lay back down and hope that the repair guy comes soon because I cannot take any more of this day.

Mix together peanut butter, honey, and cocoa powder. Add raisins and banana slices and blend. Drizzle with almond milk. Eat like ice cream. Gain weight instantly.