Ashamed

So here I am, on my computer every single day, for at least an hour, my blog is fourth on my list of startup tabs and every single day I log on my computer, look at my blog and say, "I'm going to post something. It's not like I have a lack of material to post. Oh no! I just read some of "Lies my Teacher Told Me" and in one chapter I found a whole lot of sh*t I could write about. Boomers! Remember this picture? And this one? Yeah, these were in there. So I could write about these, but I won't.


And so TODAY I open the tab and I say to myself, "Look, you've been NEGLECTING your blog for a week." But I don't post yet. I check out some of the blogs that I like and I see that THEY'VE been posting pretty frequently. So now I gotta live up to them in my mind and post some sh*t.

. . .



I am such a bad blogger.



HOWEVER, I am now back! I will f*cking post like crazy for as long as possible until I become otherwise engaged.

Why Going Organinc is Ultimately Bad for the Environment (Hint: Not Everyone Will Do It)

People tell me almost every single f*cking day how they either went green and organic and feel so much better and healthier and longer-livingish, or how I should go green and eat only organic sh*t because you need to offset your f*cking carbon footprint and live for the next seven generations. (In case you didn't catch that, that was a blatant product placement for Seventh Generation sprays and soaps and all their sh*t. They work really f*cking well and smell good.) Now I'm all for the next seven generations, but I could care less about eating organic sh*t and going green and all that sh*t and let me tell you why. (Just in case after this introduction you thought I was going to start talking about my non-existant pets)

First of all, it appears to me like the people that give the biggest sh*t about going green are rich, yuppie, white people. I'm not white so I have every right to say this. Those yuppie upper-middle class white folks are all like, "Oh Sharon, oh Maurice, let's go plant a f*cking garden with our money that we got by our politically correct scamming of those poor negroe hos. We say 'negroe' with an 'e' so it's all right. Then let's go turn on our fluorescent lightbulbs so we can read our recycled paper books by Al Gore in our environmentally friendly sitting room. Then we can go to Whole Foods and buy their really f*cking expensive produce and poultry but no beef because it sits in our stomach. Then lets go home and cook on our environmentally friendly stove in our kitchen. Then we'll go to sleep in our 100% recycled cotton bed that we got from Russia on our rowboat trip their. We went by rowboat to save gas!" How many people have the time, inclination and resources to live such a life? Certainly not most of the people in the world. Yeah, maybe some guy out there, like those rich Indian dudes and Bill Gates, but certainly not most of the people in the world. Not everybody has the resources to install pressurized air faucets to save water. (But if we could . . .)

So, anyway, because the richer people are not buying from PathMark and ShopRite and Costco and all those other places, those places are forced to drive their prices UP. Because of this, the regular folks have to drive farther and farther away to get a bargain so they can stay below budget. Because the distance they drive increases, they use more gas, forcing them to buy more, limiting the food portion of their budget, forcing them to really hunt for bargains. We all know gas is bad for the environment as well, that goes without saying. Oh yes, and because plants absorb carbon dioxide and replace it with oxygen, slowly reversing global warming, as Carlos Mencia said, "You people are eating the solution!!!" Oh, and I almost forgot. Where do bicycles come from? Most likely, your bike came from some coal smoke spewing factory in Malaysia or China, was tranported here by an ancient steamer, crossed the country by a diesel tractor trailer and took the longest way possible to get here. Suck on THAT, you environmentalist, "I'm so hot because I bike every-f*cking-where!!!" dicks!!!!!

BTW, I could put some sh*t about how hybrids hurt too, but I don't want to crush your spirits TOO badly. I want you to SQUIRM.

So, in summation, rich vegans and vegetarians are BAD for the f*cking environment. Just eat meat and drive cars like the rest of us, you F*CKING B*ST*RDS!!!

Badadadadah, I'm playin' it!

OK, I was surfing the internet one day and on a whim, I typed in "mcdonalds game." I clicked on this link and found this game. In it you play some sort of McDonald's demigod (Alert: If you see the words "game" and "god" in the same sentence, it does not mean that you will be able to throw random people around and end their lives). So I began to play it and it is really freaking HARD! I have not lasted 10 years on it yet. And I am now hopelessly addicted to it. Play at your own risk.

101 Books I Think Everybody Should Read! Cut off at 32

This is a list I've been working on, of all the books I think everyone should read. My goal is to reach 100 books, and possibly make the list into a book, at which point, I will add the title of the book to the list, ostensibly making it 101 books I think everyone should read. If there is a book you think should go on here that isn't here, comment with the title and author, or send me an e-mail. Books will not be put on the list if they have no underlying message or theme (such as Moby Dick, whose theme is obsession.) Also, please don't just send titles of books just because you like them. If that was all that was needed for inclusion, then I'd have a list of 1001 books I really, really love.

But that's enough of my idiosyncratic jabber. Without further ado, I give you: 100 (& 1) Books I Think Everyone Should Read! (cut off at 32).

1. Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand
2. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
3. 1984 by George Orwell
4. The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster
5. The Bible by God
6. The Torah by Yahweh
7. The Koran by Allah
8. Moby Dick by Herman Melville
9. As You Like It by William Shakespeare
10. All’s Well That Ends Well by William Shakespeare
11. The Killing Joke by Alan Moore, Brian Bolland and John Higgins
12. Infinite Crisis by Geoff Johns and Phil Jimenez
13. Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
14. Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi
15. The Alchemist by Paolo Coehlo
16. Everything Bad is Good for You by Steven Johnson
17. Freakonomics by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner
18. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
19. Webster’s Dictionary
20. Roget’s Thesaurus
21. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams
22. Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler
23. Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe
24. War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells
25. The Last Safe Place on Earth
26. A Tale of Two Cities Charles Dickens
27. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson
28. Dante’s Inferno by Dante
29. Your Computer Manual by Your Computer Company
30. Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
31. White Fang by Jack London
32. A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess

Part 5 of the Sixth Degree

Previously on the Sixth Degree:
David Schultz-Lancaster was called to his doctor's appointment by an attractive married nurse. Not very important detail. Daniela Martinez turned on her computer and drummed her fingers impatiently as she waited for it to warm up. Maybe I should buy a new computer, she thought as she ruefully eyed her six year-old desktop. ’Course, the kids gotta come first, as the sound of three year-old playing tag wafted in through the open window of her study. It wasn’t really a study, more of a closet, down to the shelf a foot above her head. And the window wasn’t really a window, more of a hole cut in the wall with a hacksaw by an ex-boyfriend, coerced into doing it by the act that had produced the three kids playing outside.
The computer booted up and Daniela wasted no time in going onto the long-distance schooling website, where she logged in and started her math lesson. I know it’s not the best way to get an education, she thought, but it’s all I got.
The door of her study banged open. Her oldest son, Samson, stood in the entrance. The thirteen year old boy had always been the child that had given her the most grief, and now she was afraid that he would get caught up in this nonsense with the Bloods and the Crips.
“Moms, I’m goin’ out.”
“Where?”
“To Mr. Houston’s house. I still have that job mowing his lawn for the rest of the month.”
Daniela glanced at the clock on her computer. “Okay, but you gotta be back by five.”
“A’ight. See ya.”
He left the door open on the way out.


“Oh, David.”
The nurse gasped as he went up the back of her shirt and began to unfasten her bra. She hooked her right leg around his left and he bumped against a mop as she writhed in his arms.
Having undone the bra, he flung it away put the hand in her hair. Then he began to unbutton her shirt with his other hand.
“David.” The nurse moaned again, and he heard footsteps in the hall outside. He shushed her and waited for the footsteps to pass. They did not. As they neared the closet where David and the nurse were, they slowed and stopped outside.
David began to worry. Maybe the person the footsteps belonged to was just lost and trying to find his way, or maybe he had received a call and was digging in his pocket for his phone, or – Maybe not. The door swung open and slammed into the wall with enough force to rattle the various bottles of cleaning fluid strewn around the cramped space. In the open doorway was a stocky, red-faced man who seemed to take some offense at David being with the nurse.