I AM IGNORING FACEBOOK!

Housekeeping post!

As of now:
I AM IGNORING FACEBOOK!
FOREVER!


I would just rather blog and leave it at that.



Thank you for the sheep.

And the ninjas.

Well!
That having been said.........
GO HERE:

http://danator.blogspot.com/2007/09/chemistree-fore-eediots.html

and laugh your ass off like I did!




Oh you totally want to be assless. G'wan.
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And now, BLOGS AND THINGS BLOGGAL....

Hi! We here at Paul would like to make an absurd and ultimately meaningless policy pronouncement. I don't expect anyone to run out and have this tattooed on their ass, but then again I'm not you and I'm not the boss of you either. Stop copying me. Stop it. Moooooooom they won't stop copying me! You're a doofus! No, ok wait-I'm a doofus! Ha!
No, you can't say 'I know you're a doofus ha' if you're copying me! Moooooooooooooooom they won't copy the right way!
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1. Do be advised that this is the 'Me' show.

Me has no problem whatsoever using that little 'trashcan' icon down at the bottom of the comments posts.
Neither does me feel like me needs to give anyone an explanation if me decides me is annoyed and uses that little trashcan icon at the bottom of the comments posts.

Me also uses comment moderation, word verification and address blocking ALL over the place like I just don't care. Which I don't, by the way. I've been doing it all along.

Remember: It's a big Internet.
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2. Trolls suck.

Trolls suck and blow simultaneously.
Trolls are bad and suck one hundred times of suckness of the whole galaxy and Mars and the Earth and infinity.
Here at the 'Me' show, it is always open season on trolls. Have at, dear fellows! Load heavy and fire at will!
And be advised: If I can find your troll-ass e-mail, I will post it, so prepare to explain that NAMBLA membership the next time you apply for a job online.
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3. ACK RESPECKABEL

I struggle to maintain an atmosphere of friendly, understated elegance in my comments lounge. I've spent a lot of time and money selecting a caterer, choosing the furnishings and carefully arranging the objets d'art so that each one is displayed to its best advantage. I've come to think of it as a place where people can relax, exchange ideas, maybe nibble on the hors d'ouevres, have a glass of Cristal, page through the most recent Kirk Johnson photo essays...we keep it sophisticated here at Paul.

We do not have flame wars in the comments lounge.

That kind of thing takes attention away from what is truly important around here, which is ME.
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4. THE WORDS 'JUGGALO' AND 'PHILOSOPY'
WHEN USED TOGETHER IN A SENTENCE
MAKE ME LAUGH SO HARD I OFTEN PISS MYSELF
BUT THEN I KEEP ON LAUGHING ANYWAY
BECAUSE IT'S JUST SUCH AN INCREDIBLY PATHETIC, STUPID,
NO WAIT LET ME CATCH MY BREATH I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING
OH CRAP

The thing that really makes my hemorrhoids flare are pinworms. Debaters! I mean debaters!
I majored, ok? I used to compete, a'aight? I already know it's bullshit.

This is opinion and personal experience here at the 'Me' show. Editorial comment. It's not a goddamn forum.

Really. Please. You aren't going to score points with rhetoric, or by archly pointing out logic flaws, 'Oo! That doesn't follow! Oo! How is that germane? Oo! I think you need to revisit your sources! Oo! I think E. Power Biggs is the unsung God of the Bach fugue!'

It's not my problem that you wasted all that time in college learning an intellectual skill that STILL doesn't make you right.
Neither is it my fault that you don't have the courage to just call the cat a bastard and make a fucking statement of conviction without peeing yourself.

I mean, I don't expect that to stop you; go ahead and try...It'll be hilarious, of course, and people will mock you, and you'll skulk off snuffling with your lip all pouted out and go back home to your parents house, sit in the dark squalid foetor of your basement bedroom in your lil' flannel cowboy pajamas and play your clarinet and cry; 'waa, waa, waa, I'll never be one of the cool kids' with the sound of our vicious laughter ringing in your ears and everything, but for GODS SAKE don't let that stop you! Long sentence, huh. I do that here all the time. I am outta control. I tell you what, people like me shouldn't be allowed to lower the tone of public discourse. Woooooo. I'm crazy.
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ONE FINAL NOTE

oh yes, and:
Do, please, I beg you, DO come here and try to crush all who oppose you by criticizing their grammar and punctuation mistakes, however minor. EVERYONE respects that.

Get a goddamn grip; or, Reality part deaux

ECCO STROPHION!!!!!

This image was pulled from Ebay and shows us a man in the act of exhibiting one of my bras for public inspection.

Actually no. But I think he may have just removed it. And his pants too for some odd reason. Perhaps the weather is a tad sultry where he is. (We will cling to this assumption like barnacles to a rock anyway.) Now in order to make this tatty old bra that much more saleable, he could have upped the ante by describing all the little floaty spots you can see drifting around as ' spirit orbs' and by claiming that this bra is haunted.

But no. I quote from the sellers' description: "Sorry about the spotty picture".

Whatever else he may have (we refuse to speculate) this hairy, naked guy selling a bra has INTEGRITY.

"See! Our superior spookiness has attracted a powerful phantom ally! You cannot defeat our SPOOKY FU!!!"

This photo was posted on a ghost site. We are helpfully provided with two red arrows which point to the terrifying circular anomaly hovering above Bad Devine and Premenstrual Woman(apparently Scary Bathrobe doesn't rate supernatural hoverage.)

Now, what I find most disturbing about this picture is that there appears to be a great weight pressing down on their house which is bending the wall over on the right there like a banana. I think that they missed the REAL picture. I think while they were busy immortalizing their Dungeons and Dragons personnaE a BIG HONKIN UFO LANDED ON THE ROOF. And what would have totally kicked ass bigtime is, if what happened next is that they all started melting and smoking and getting big gross blisters from UFO radioactivity and then some landing gantry things came spearing down from overhead and skewered them like a trio of costumed Ball Park Franks. Now THAT would have been a cool picture.

I used to play around with hobby photography and darkroom stuff. This type of thing just makes me rabid. Ladies and gentlemen, its not a ghost. It's common household dust.

Now maybe Naked Guy spilled the urn containing Aunt Rita and didn't get all of her out of the carpet. Or maybe he lives atop an Ancient Indian Burial Ground. Lord knows, America teems with these; we have to fly our deceased around in airplanes because the ground is so goddamn full of dead Indians. In any event, even if what we are seeing in that picture is particulate human, it is still DUST. And God bless him, Bra Dude may be naked, he may have bad panelling, and he may even be kinda icky when everything is said and done, but the man knows the difference between shit that doesn't exist and a dirty lens.

i explain reality

Some folks out there (not you, my darlings) are continuing to experience problems making that big emotional leap from 'It's SO OBVIOUS that the X Files was real but the government forced them to write it like fiction' to 'There is no Laura Croft really, but I will manage somehow.'

But hey, don't feel bad, you pathetic dork, I am here to help you! So sit down, shut up and let dear old First Nations root around in your brain with a stick.


See, there are things that are true, and there are things that are not. No matter how hard you try to make an untrue thing true, it never will be, no matter how elaborate the buttress of lies you erect around it. The only thing that you will make is yourself look like a moron.

Now. Bearing that in mind, repeat after me:

1. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS VAMPIRES.

Question: How goddamn lacking in self esteem do you have to be to run around in white pancake makeup and fake fangs like Eddie Fucking Munster? Answer: Pretty goddamn lacking. But you are different? You really drink blood? Well gosh, why didn't you say so in the first place? That is SO COOL! Now go slap yourself across the face and drink a gallon of tetracycline you pathetic retard. Congratulations! You're a plague vector. I bet your mom is proud.

2. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS FAIRIES

Or Sidhe, angels, elementals, fauns, genie, peris, dryads, naiids, leprechauns, cluricauns, any cauns, kahunas, gnomes, kobolds, ghouls (except for Pickmans' Model; in fact, everything Lovecraft wrote was taken directly from personal experience because I said so) Bigfoot, Mothman, Boogieman, or Stick Indians. Even if they talk to you. That happens because you need 1. Interests other than World of Warcraft and 2. MAOI inhibitors. Fast. Now. Run.

3. YOU DO NOT HAVE PICTURES OF GHOSTS.

It's not a vortex, it's not ectoplasm, and its not an orb, it's you not knowing how to operate a camera, fuckwit. Yes, it would be cool if it were a ghost, but ghosts are bullshit and we can't all be ballerinas, either.

4. THE DEAD DO NOT SPEAK THROUGH PSYCHICS.

The dead are dead. They don't do anything anymore. Psychics? Take Sylvia Brown (please? somebody?) If she could really attract ghosts, wouldn't an aethric Versace have beaten her to death with a handbag by now?

5. YOU DO NOT HAVE AN INDIAN SPIRIT GUIDE. You can have a TV Guide, You can have a Michelin Guide, and in the UK you can even have a Girl Guide. You cannot have an indian spirit guide. You can have a disassociative personality disorder caused by chemical imbalances in the brain, though. **

6. ASTROLOGY IS JUST, NO. PLEASE. JUST NO.

7. AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON FENG SHUI.

My bitchy, innapropriate, rude ex-sister-in-law, rather than seek real help for her many problems, instead paid some lemming to come in and Feng Shui her house. Yes indeedy, that's a little lemming who laughed all the way to the bank that day.


8. OUIJA BOARDS ARE CREEPY.

...and this Halloween I will tell you my creepy, true ouija board story. Now, do I think it's Phil Spector making the planchette move? No. But...

9. RELIGION? GOTTA AGREE WITH MARX.

Offended? Stop reading me immediately. Honestly. I mean it. You will not like it here. Don't forget to pick up your Rice a Roni on the way out.

THERE!
Yew are cleansed!
The eeeeeevil has left you!
Now go fowerth, brothers and sisters, and THINK!!!!

I mean really, for the love of fuck.



* I blame Anne Rice. No really, I do. I just want to puke when an interviewer jokingly asks "Was 'Interview With The Vampire' real?" and she acts all coy like 'oo, if I say too much the Talamasca will put a hit on me!'

**Why do people think that dead Native Americans have nothing better to do with their afterlife than hang around with fat white women who dropped out of high school?

***'Ex Sister-In-Law and the Delusions of Entitlement' would make a sweet-ass name for a band, wouldn't it?

NOT condoleeza rice. really.

Due to recent remarks made during international correspondence, I feel I must issue a statement of political position re: international affairs. This is a self-indulgent medium, in other words, and any excuse to run my mouth is a good excuse. Not that I need one. Because I don't. And if you think I do, you are obviously new here.

AIM FOR THE ENEMY....NOT YOUR FRONT LINE.

A. Anyone traveling the web using the moniker 'First Nations' is not going to get too exercised when you slag off the U. S. federal government.

B. Explore and discuss the differences between the following concepts:
1. Individual
2. Government

C. Discuss and explore the differences between:
1. Focused political discussion
2. Light, general conversation.

D. If your personal sense of self worth is so very small, your perception of the relative worth of the country you inhabit so very withered, and the burden of living in the shadow of the ill-percieved 'superiority' of another nation - a nation that no amount of watching 'The Dukes of Hazard' qualifies you as an expert on.... if all that is just too much for you to bear without assing off with some unconsidered excuse for an opinion every time your Spidey Sense picks up the presence of an American, First Nations makes the following suggestion:
1. Open a 'party size' bag of potato chips.
2. While you're up, bring me a beer.
3. Dump the chips out, put the bag over your head and tie the opening tightly around your neck.