The Mob Hit by J-Teezy.
My new desk top, click for full view.



I had an incident happen on a bus and I want to mention it because it seems there was a lot to be learned by it. If you don’t know, I happen to live in San Francisco (see the rules of my journal).

So I was riding a busy bus on a warm afternoon and a cluster of young boys came on in blue sport outfits, ages about 8-13 years old. A boy in the youngest category sat next to me, a very cute child actually. The group spoke plainly at first and then the conversation drifted to girls. Things like how one girl wasn’t that pretty but her sister was and he was trying to get to know one through the other, how another was even hotter or this one had a nice butt. I was disappointed that no mention of personality, talent, or reflection on females as people was being stated but nothing was truly vulgar and decided to tolerate it in the name of “male bonding”. Since I'm also fully aware that women can be equally shallow or motivated by lust. And really, overall, they weren't bad kids compared to a lot I've seen.

However, it is a bus, not a locker-room or a bar, others can HEAR you. I’ve noticed people are usually shockingly rude and stupid about this obvious fact. I tend to let it go because we all have those days and it can feel awkward that it’s technically none of your business even if you’re being forced to listen (by person or cell phone). Maybe I’m getting old though because this sort of total disregard for others is really starting to irritate me and I’m feeling like I am entitled to my voice. My other irritation is that I find that people who think they are “wild” or “rebellious” NEVER open their mouths and exhibit said anti-social behavior when it might actually do some bloody good. No, I seem to get stuck with that responsibility and hence my life-long habit of getting into trouble when trouble wasn’t really what I was going for. Respect was.

So anyway. The little boy next to me picks up a magazine and sees gay people, an advertisement, one of many in a publication that’s about the city in general. He flashes this to his girl-chatting chums and states, snickering, “Hey, this is you.” “Is this what you want to be?” “Hey, look. Look!” “Do you like this?”

That was enough.

Did I mention that the little boys were all African-American? Uh, no, I didn’t.

I yanked the magazine out of his tiny hands and said (not yelled), “Knock it off. Quit acting ignorant. You live in a city full of all different kinds of people. You don’t have to like it, but you wouldn't like it if someone said something like that about you.”

He stayed silent for the rest of the trip and looked sincerely dog-eared.

His friends proceeded to state vague taunts like, “Hey, I’ve got something to put in your closet. Get it?”

I let it go. I resisted responding about racism and how one might answer something about pointy white hats for his “closet”. I’d made my point. That very bus was filled with people of all sorts of colors, ages, sexualities and backgrounds. Any of the boys may even be or grow up to be queer themself. No one else said anything, although a lone woman made deliberate approving eye contact in my direction.

Did one voice make a difference? I don’t know. I can’t. Time and life will tell. But I decided it was worth the chance even at the risk of utter ridicule or an ass kicking because someone has to try or we really won’t progress one damn step.

October 5th, 2008

Dear Mr. Neil Gaiman,

You bring out the Veruca Salt in me, but I forgive you because:

1. You read so beautifully, slightly better than my mother (huge compliment)
2. You graciously took my question card from my hand after organizers forgot to collect it
3. And...read it aloud on stage *blush!*
4. We share a favorite tale from childhood in common (though it is not for children)
5. By some fickle of fate, I was privileged to sit in the front row
6. The exclusive previews of Coraline
7. Oh right and because you're a pretty awesome individual in general (who totally needs to cosplay as Professor Snape).

My sincere thanks to all the people who made this entire event possible, including Brady.

There was the initial humor of an employee who got quite excited that Neil Diamond was attending, until I clarified the actual name of the guest of honor. That's OK, I like Mr. Diamond too.

It was a mild, summer-like day that made waiting for hours easy to manage. My eye fixated on the rough textures of bamboo paneling and a large mosquito-eater clinging to the entrance glass (ghastly to look at, although harmless to people). Sipped honeyed soy milk, a Pete's coffee, and ate shio zake onigiri for breakfast. Slowly, timidly, I became engaged in conversation with another introvert that spiraled into life, the universe, and trepidations of the public transportation system. That evening I met up with favorite company for a magnificent 焼き肉 dinner (including raw & cooked Kobe beef) whilst enjoying a shoju cocktail (with ume).

Twas' a day brillig with the slithy toves, leaving me glad I was not yet among the departed; as the author put it himself that afternoon, "that sort of good mad", even though my body punished me later for the stress.

Weirdly yours,

IDOL HANDS

Quick promo before I go kill myself in my sleep:

je_lims (John/Elizabeth [SGA]) has sign ups until 11pm today (whenever that is for you). It is in your best interest to participate. ;)

And I wouldn't normally post this here, but I think the only sga circles I'm in are on my flist. So uh.. enjoy xD

I think a lot of people don’t realize that. Many take it for granted in a blindness deliberately manufactured by the mass media and retail.

If you’re lucky, at least one person raised you like family (usually a parent) and taught you a healthy form of affection. But even that is often taken for granted if not spat upon. In truth though, after that, no one has to give a wit whether you live or die – that is up to you, decided ultimately by your actions in life. I’m keenly aware of this and though not needy in the knowledge, it does very much instill an urge in me to pay gratitude when it happens.

The worst thing about users is that they make good people less likely, if not entirely incapable, of reaching out. And that’s really horrible because the world is in such dire need of compassion. Those who take advantage of what little there is do more damage than they understand. Manipulation, lies, and deception are easy against someone whose concern or affection has been drawn out. Unlike in stories however, there is nothing admirable or “cool” from the consequences of these cowardly real life actions. I’m keenly aware of this as well, for it was never my desire to become this sort of person.

Kindness is powerful; a simple and sincere word or singular selfless gesture can re-kindle hope within a dark soul. Do not underestimate this. And may you never be tempted to forget it either.

In short…thank you.




Letter by beeb_almighty


Collection of cards.

*click to see full size.

Holy crap a fanfic?! From me?! Finished?!

Title: God Only Knows
Author: tenroses 
Rating: PG
Pairings: Gwen/Rhys, hint of Gwen/Jack
Count: 450 words
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, boo.
Summary: “God only knows what I’d be without you.”

 

( Silence... )

My waking dream this morning was two adolescent people in a bedroom. They had some sense of being attracted to one another. Would they do anything about it? A typical sexual tension was building in the air. But things most untypical were about to occur.

Something in their lunch, possibly planted, caused their bodies to begin transforming wildly. Initially alarmed, quickly they morphed into amorphous blobs growing to the size of dinosaurs. In these new forms that were not their own, it seemed they felt free to indulge. At some points it was impossible to even understand how they were even being erotic with one another, shapes and positions unrecognizable, but they kept going at an impossible rate, consuming their own bodily fluids in order to avoid dehydration.

By the end they were copulating inside a hamster cage as diminutive, cartoon-looking mice indicative of Pinky and the Brain. Not a pairing I’ve ever wanted to consider although I’m sure it exists. A final ejaculation and the larger pulled out, announcing that they had reached the end of all possible combinations of one screwing the other in every possible body form. They could finally rest, though being human had lost any meaning.

If you ask me, that rather sums up the concept of the vast plethora of masturbatory fantasies in general.

*wry smirk* So...now what?

mp3 160kbps: СКАЧАТЬ

1. Chinese Blues (3:45)
2. J. Smith (3:09)
3. Something Anything (2:24)
4. Long Way Down (2:38)
5. Broken Mirror (3:11)
6. Last Words (4:11)
7. Quite Free (4:00)
8. Get Up (3:12)
9. Friends (3:23)
10. Song To Self (3:45)
11. Before You Were Young (3:18)
12. Sarah (4:26)