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2005-07-08 - 3:28 p.m. tagged I'll be back to update the past week sometime this weekend, I hope... until then, here's a long winded essay sure to offended everybody... even spirits... well gee wiz, after being locked out of a friend's diary for a week or few or maybe forever, cuz I have no concept of time sometimes, especially when I am too busy to pick up the phone and figure out that I'm ok alone and loneliness will not actually eat me and even if it did, I can dream while in it's digestive tract and come out smelling like a rose, or some sort of flower, or at least fertilizer, which will turn into a rose someday if sprinkled in the right spot and it's really lucky... yeah, that's how I feel, like fertilizer standing in front of Clint Eastwood who's asking if I feel lucky... and guess what?... I do, I do feel lucky and suddenly I have access to my friend's diary again and now I have this thing to do... being tagged, they call it... and being in a really juvenile and somewhat more insecure than usual mood, I might be all sorts of ridiculous in the processing of this tag... I don't ever remember being tagged before, but then, I may have been and rudely did not notice because of my haphazard visiting and random browsings and limited time... so I think people who tag me should have the wisdom and kindness to call me up and bonk me over the head so I notice, kind of like my offline friends call me up to wake me up whenever they want me to be somewhere at some designated time... it's only fair, I have a good excuse for being an irresponsible nit, I work nights, after all... anyway, this is what I am supposed to do... my instructions, not Mr. Phelps instructions, but mine... not all mine though, cuz I share them with a lot of other people, four others in particular at the moment, though they probably noticed before I did... I received an email telling me I had a new guestbook entry and I went there to find a fairly positive generic message and I clicked on the link and found myself redirected... imagine someone would leave a site like this under a disguised redirection URL in my guestbook?... I mean, without a telephone number?... ummm, I mean, how dare they! which reminds me of the SPAM my tagboard at my candora diary is receiving recently that has me deleting tags (hey, I do get tagged, in a different way cuz the word tag has different meanings, after all... I used to get a lot of tags, in fact, but then all this SPAM started blotting out my lovely taggers and it's not become a lot of work to weed the tagboard and it might come down... which reminds me that comments over at that same heart fantasy diary is no more, which makes Andrew twenty-something dollars poorer because I did not renew my supergold primarily because of the faulty and SPAM ridden comments section... but I digress, as usual)... so adorable over there tagged me and now I'm supposed to come up with a list... I sometimes love lists, but usually do not have the serious aptitude to concentrate on making a list (no less checking it twice), which is why nobody gets an on time birthday or holiday wish from me, no less card... though I was much better about it when I was part of a couple, cuz I want to make my partner look good, after all (ahem?)... anyway, this list is to contain 5 things that society in general apparently enjoys or tolerates that I just don't get, which means I am supposed like complain or something and you all know how much I hate complaining, I mean, imagining making me complain when I am trying to stay all positive and peace-like... maybe I should complain about complaining... or maybe I should clear my throat and get on with it... but first, I was telling you how I came upon this particular tag, the first I can recall, and I most sincerely apologize to anyone who's tagged me in the past (especially if I responded in an entry and forgot, aye?) and I'll soften up on pointing the finger of blame at you for not calling me and bonking me over the head, but you should have anyway... you may have heard about it recently, though what with the London bombings and all, it did not get a whole lot of press... yes, I am in a horribly irreverent mood... random acts of terrorist and stupid human tricks inspire my irreverent armor, or armour, and I stick my tongue out at every ridiculous seriousness ever conceived by humankind because life is momentary and taking anything too seriously is just wasting the wonder of the moment... or something like that... I mean, dragging around fear and prejudice and ignorance and hatred and negativity and drama and baggage and anything negative from even a moment ago destroys most of what this moment can be, so do what some clever and wise people are doing, just go about your business and continue surviving and enjoying your life and don't let the bastards win, not that life's any sort of competition or war game or anything... you really do not want me to take this list seriously, we could be here forever... so where were we?... ah yes, irreverently scoffing at tragedy and laughing in the face of death... I think I'll fly somewhere this September, just to spite someone... maybe I'll sing a song while skydiving... or maybe I'll invite a perfect stranger over for a slumber party... life is too goldang short, I tell ya... live!... live live! (note, for the phonetically impaired, that first live! was to be rhyming with give, so the verb live as in doing something while breathing... and the second seemingly repetitive live live! was not repetitive at all, mostly, because while the first live was the same as the previous live, that is, to rhyme with give, the second live! was to rhyme with hive (and hopefully this entry isn't giving you hives) or arrive, meaning the adverb (at least I think it's an adverb) describing how to do the first live (or live! if we return to the first one)... in other words, do something exciting, do not merely survive and certainly do not simply exist, especially not now... live live!... not a rerun, no on tape, not even on DVD, live live!... feel free to start an intergalactic campaign and mass appeal slogan thing on bumper stickers and T-shirts and social rallies and collective consciousness outings and change the world now... live live!... I mean, LIVE LIVE! even... it'll be the sixties all over again... imagine... and while you're at it... List 5 things that society in general apparently enjoys or tolerates that I just don't get (ok, I'm ready for the shit to hit the fan, I'll probably have one reader after this entry): 1. Hypocrisy. Is anyone immune?... how many vegetarians drink milk?... or eat cheese... or eat anything with cellulose in it?... read labels?... got milk?... sure, you're not killing the cow and eating it's meat, you're just condemning the poor bovine life form to standing in a space smaller than a coffin, side by side with hundreds of other cows, face stuffed into a food trough, with her udders hooked up to vacuum hoses that suck her dry until, in spite of every experimental antibiotic and growth hormone known to man, she drops dead from exhaustion, only to become dog food or cheap meat for non-vegetarians... very humane... as a former veggie-head, Vegan even, I can poke at my peer group... easy target, I know... how about your taxes?... you support killing babies?... you support building bigger and better bombs to scare the crap out of people in the name of God because they do not believe you've got all the answers to how to live life and get into your so-called heaven?... oh wait, did I mention God?... I told you you don't want me to take this seriously... I'll be wise and let George Carlin take it from here and move on to #2... 2. Fat. Good grief people, get real... fat is ugly, gross, a blubbery representation of our careless waste of resources, cruel apathy, lack of responsibility, and inhumanity... not to mention our obvious suicidal tendencies as a species... more than half the world starves while we eat more cake, rich moist cake, fortified cake, new and improved cake, even diet cake... Marie Antoinette had nothing on us... fat people condemn the fashion industry for supposedly being superficial and then try to convince us not to look beneath the surface of their fat, as if there are not deep rooted psychological problems leading to someone eating themselves to death... talk about hypocrisy... and what about getting into an intimate physical relationship with a fat person?... what?... overlook the self-abuse and trust the self-abuser not to abuse you?... share eating habits, exercise habits, lifestyle habits?... pretend it is not suicidal to carry around a few sacks of potato-jello every waking hour of the day?... yes, the skinny supermodel look is a superficial representation of what is supposed to be beauty, no argument that dieting to look like a stick figure with breasts and puffy lips is a sickness, but so is justifying fat or trying to sell us that fat is beautiful... suicide is not beautiful... 3. Smokers, Drinkers, etc. While we're on the subject of suicide, what kind of hypocrisy is it to be afraid of death, to say you don't want to die, to put people in jail for being suicidal and dangerous to society because they smoke or drink some chemical not on the government approved poisons list, all the while sitting around soaking your liver in alcohol and painting your lungs black with tar and nicotine?... and get all uppity and offended when someone asks you not to paint their lungs black, or when government actually decides people who do not want black lung diseases have the right to eat and live in smoke-free environments... yes, you've got the right to commit suicide, just like fat people, but you do not have the right to poison me or tell me I do not see the insecurity and self-destruction behind your choices... am I ranting yet?... 4. Coming up with a fourth rant. Yes, I am appauled and perturbed and just don't get how society in general accepts a banal news person or a Rush Limpburger (never can spell his name right) rant about how the rich deserve to get richer or the freaking commie athiest bastards did it all to themselves and deserve to live in squallor poisoned by their drinking water because we're too god-filled lazy to share our garbage and the trash our industry uses to pollute our environment and further along the mass suicide we call modern civilization... oh, the drama of it all... I think I'll list Britney Spears fourth... oh wait, Avril Lavigne, yeah. she's more deserving of this spot... or Madnoona... I mean Madonna... they're all sluts because I can't get any... Are we living by watching others live life?... what did Paris Hilton do today?... how about Tom Cruise?... is he really crazy or just a great publicist?... and is he just doing Katie Holmes cuz she's been a teenager for fifteen years and pedophelia is the big secret turn on no body wants to admit, or because they're truly in love... and will they get old and fat together or will he dump her for Dakota Fanning in a few years (why wait?) as a publicity stunt for War of The Worlds, Part II (The Earth Kicks Back)... imagine the prequels... I mean, how can we sleep at night not knowing?... 5. Me. What?... well, sort of... see, I've been a fat, lazy, self-abusive, suicidal, functionally psychotic, fundamentalist religious, gun-toting, baby-killing, tree-hugging, flag-waving, cud-chewing vegetarian atheist alcoholic chain smoking whore... I gave it all up for lent... now I just write these ridiculous entries to amuse and confuse and refuse to take anything seriously except what I might take seriously within all the irreverent babble that is for me to know and you to find out... I suppose you could stare into my eyes for a few hours and see if any secrets fall out... better than me have tried... and now we see why I should not be tagged, because I have probably alienated every human and most Martians as readily as microscopic bacteria do... yes, I am a disease called irreverence, dangerous to closed minds and fat people... and smokers... and casual drinkers... and closet vegetarians... and myself... but through it all remember, LIVE LIVE! I'm supposed to tag five people now... ok, I found something else to grip about... I've got to pick five people with diaries who might actually read this ramble all the way to this point and who might actually want to come up with a list of things, 5 things, mind you, that society in general apparently enjoys or tolerates that I just don't get, therein risking alienation of their readers, not to mention my risking that five people do not even read this diary and putting this tag in here would bring the horrible truth that I am alone in my madness to the unavoidable light... oh, the fear of rejection is a horrible way to die... or live live, for that matter... I suppose I could list a dozen or two people and hope five of them will take up the tag and therein comply with the rules with less risk... but then, what if a dozen or few were listed, tagged here, and nobody picked up on it in their diary... I'm starting to feel like Richard Lewis... not that I've actually ever felt Richard Lewis, but that's besides the point... I've got to select five of you... five of you who might actually read all this... five of you who might actually do this... and as if that isn't enought pressure, I've got to select five of you who have not already been selected by someone else, which means I am supposed to have been reading your diary... oh the shame, of the ridicule, oh the mergatroid... in order to complete this entry, I shall create further irreverence and make several lists... even use tables, that'll distract me...
I can't count either, huh?
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