Well, if nothing else, this sort of thing does give you a better idea of who your friends are.
Garrity, much love.
Hanne, much love.
Gray, you arrogant, self-righteous prick. No wonder the two of you get along so famously. Two choices, dog:
- Oh, I'se powerful sorry, massa.
- That's mighty white of you. Now fuck away off.
And while I'm on the subject, the agentless passive construction, "I realize you've been hurt" does not mean the same thing as "I realize I/he/she hurt you." At this point, I don't really consider the former to be a meaningful sentence of English, so if anyone else is thinking about tossing a sentence using that -- or the gerund -- my way, do me a little favor. Take that sentence, shine it up real nice, turn it sideways, and ram it up your
candy cracka ass.
A similar request holds for starting off some shit with, "I understand [that]. . ."
Do you now.
Without having talked to me about any of this.
Your telepathy is impressive. Or, you don't understand jack shit, and need to shut the fuck up.
Finally, I am, in fact, still demonstrating an admirable amount of restraint. I've merely been tacky. I'm also capable of nigga-level tacky, and can approach, but not quite attain, gay black man level tacky. Wanna see?
Ain't think so.
A Very Merry Native American Genocide Day to all our readers.
Since there were no decent film suggestions -- useless Internet, anyway, where's that Al Gore fucker at? -- I just rented Amelie at Women & Children First yesterday. Only saw it once, in the theater, and figure it deserves a repeat viewing. And my moms hasn't ever seen it, and I think she'd like it.
No, I don't know why I'm supporting the local, independent, woman-owned, queer-friendly feminist bookstore either, seeing as I'm such a misogynist bastard. Guess it slipped my mind.
"Men in my life haven't been very friendly lately." Yeah, and you're just overflowing with the milk of human kindness, Miss My-Boundaries-Aren't-Being-Respected. Come down off the cross, sweetie, somebody needs the wood.