November 30, 2012
“I as an elected official would never recommend anybody to boycott
any city or state.” - Jan Brewer
“You have to be careful how you're using the word boycott.” - Vernon Jordan
“The main problem is that for a boycott to be effective, you must
first persuade thousands - maybe even millions of others - to go along, which
is a lot of work and usually not successful.” - L. Neil Smith
“Hamas, the opponents of Arafat, the opponents of peace, urged a
boycott of the election, and yet there was an 85 percent turnout where Hamas is
supposed to be strong. Isn't that really quite incredible?” -
Warren Christopher
Words of the day: Parsimonious
(Stingy, Close fisted)
The miser was parsimonious in dealing
out gifts to the poor.
Unctuous (Oily, Suave, Persuasive)
The unctuous manner of some salesmen
helps them to dispose of their wares.
Paltry (Worthless, Trashy, Contemptible)
A paltry sum of money was collected at
the party.
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Happy Friday!
Happy World Aids Day Tomorrow!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Yes, please.
(Dancing is great for brain health function as
is with reading.)
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Where shall I begin?
I don’t know.
I have so many thoughts swimming around
inside my little mind, but I’m also tired. I could go for a siesta more so than
for responsibilities right about now.
Ah, a siesta in a hammock by the ocean’s
shores of Costa Rica. (Okay. I’m back. I had a brain memory “flashback” moment for
a second there.) I swear I could smell the ocean as I sat here at my desk
typing away. The ocean keeps calling me by name and I mean to go there but my
goodness I’ve got way more on my plate than I can chew right now.
Anyway, yes, there’re always so many pressing
issues and important matters happening every single hour of the day.
Now, about this filibustering; please don’t make me laugh that hard. Yes,
indeed.
I don’t mind filibustering but when it’s used
as a mind game, as a trick, as a freakish control method, as a joke, as an
abusive means to rhetorical power and as a way to stall the democratic process
well, then it’s like eating an overripe avocado. What more is there to be said?
Not much.
We all know where and how the political abuse
of power is happening in Congress yet our Congress-people pretend like this is
a great chess game, but really overly filibustering is an amateurish and
immature way to address problems that must and require to be dealt with.
I think it’s safe to say that what the American people can assume from our
gridlocked Congress is, that, Congress either doesn’t know how to conduct themselves in a respectful manner as far as debate
is concerned (with their constituents in mind) as public servants, or they’re
badly advised by god knows who, or
they hate their constituents but are only “Inside the Beltway” for the power
and greed because we all know that
our Congress-people don’t make millions per annual salary.
Why is it possible for the Senate, the majority
and minority leaders to leave Congress as multi-millionaires?
The average salary for 2011-2012: the Senate and the majority and minority leaders in the
House and Senate receive a salary of $193,400. Then how is it possible that
they make millions by the time they leave? (Don’t answer that. It’s meant to be
rhetorical.)
Our Congress-people
are middle income earners and don’t you forget it.
Remarkable, how our Congress-people set
themselves up for life with insider-trading while their constituents starve,
look for work and do the best that they can, to get by, with the very little
means that they have available to them, when most constituents live within
their means of around $20,000 per year for a family of four. Oh, my! What a
Greek-Roman tragedy. Indeed.
Progress moves forward and anyone who tries
to stall the advancement of progress or success is either a fool or on a fool’s
errand. Please.
If Congress doesn’t understand that the
American people are unto them; well, then there’s nothing worse than
un-self-ware or overly self aware leaders who shuffle their feet in hopes to
accomplish nothing because they don’t have the guts to have lunch with their bi-partisan
opponents across the aisle much less lead in the favor and in the grace of the
people’s cultural and political policies not Congress-people’s self-made
melodramas and child-like pouting because they
don’t get what they want in fulfilling wayward agendas that the people are
against to begin with. Period.
Yes, I do believe that there ought to be
cameras present at Congress and their meetings about their dealings.
If Congress is willing to enforce
surveillance cameras and police cameras upon the people, then the people can
demand for cameras to be present at each and every meeting of Congress, because
Congress owes the people every explanation possible as to how they arrive and
make decisions about the livelihoods and wellbeing of their constituents. Period.
The People don’t owe Congress anything, yet
Congress owes The People every bit of explanation that the people wish to ask
for evidence, facts and proof that Congress is doing the right thing, of the people, by the people and for the people;
otherwise it’s Congressional anarchy and everybody knows how the Americans feel
about anarchy, don’t we now?
Americans hate anarchy unless they’re burned out supposedly Hippies with an
organic shallow agenda to smoke marijuana rather than to work for their bread.
Now, one-of-my fifty-million dollar sources;
yes, fifty-million; doesn’t care if they’re given a tax-hike increase by as
much as 50% because it’ll keep the economy a well oiled machine.
The only reason as to why the Tea Party
branch of the GOP is so insecure as to lose the 1% vote is because they’re not
friends with such constituents and they don’t know how the 1% thinks; therefore
the Tea Party seems to ‘think’ that if they suck up to the 1% then the 1% will
vote for them nevertheless au contraire.
From what I know: The 1% really doesn’t like the Tea Party because
they’re more like carpetbaggers than they are economists or
humanitarian-politicians for that matter.
My sources care more so about what happens to the environment
than to the Tea Party who runs around like snot-nosed kids (pretending like
they know anything) who never went to boarding school with us so they don’t
even know what any of this alliance means in keeping world markets and
economies running smoothly by most means necessary; not by any stretch of the
imagination do the Tea Partiers understand
the complexities in responsibility of the people, by the people and for the
people.
Peace.
Gabriel (as my closest friends know me to be called since 1996.)
Hip! Hip! Hooray!
*) Wishing you a tremendous weekend.
*) I’m going to hide out with television,
comfy clothes, popcorn, loved ones and “Big Sister” (yes, I’ve personally name
Ms. Rachel Maddow as “Big Sister”. I couldn’t help myself but as to give her an
Indigenous name and well, there it is; Ms. Rachel Maddow is now known as “Big
Sister” in our home and amongst our closest friends who are political junkies. (Cheers!)
*) The cops were all over the neighborhood
today from 11:45 A.M. to 1:45 P.M. or so
searching for three young African-America men who made a fast getaway from the
cops.
I have no idea, but I did see cops crossing through our
backyard today. They even climbed over the fence at the bottom of the hill.
Incredible.
I spoke to them for a moment.
I think I know who the police were looking for… the
description the police gave of the three young African-American men is what I
think I saw yesterday at around 2:30 P.M. but yet again that was yesterday and
not today.
I’m not sure, but something gives me the
intuition that that’s who they’re looking for.
I’d never seen the three young men before yesterday
but there they were as though they had marked our territory and it belonged to
them with an air of shallow arrogance and cocky disposition. I wondered why
they weren’t in school and why they were in our neighborhood walking around
with an overly air of confidence. I can describe them to a t.
Yes, I’m a guard dog and we’re keeping a
great eye on this neighborhood because we’ll live and die for this land of
ours. This is our stolen Native American land and don’t you forget it…
I take living in Robbinsdale quite seriously.
*) The minimum wage ought to be raised just
so that the Americans aren’t so bitter at their starving lot in life,
nevertheless when the minimum wage is raised, I do want great customer service.
I don’t want to be given the middle finger in
demeanor and pretty much told to go and ____ myself just because I want to make
a purchase. Thank you.
*) I love T-mobile. What an excellent company
all around when it comes to products and customer service!!! Thank you!!!
I had Sprint as a cell provider (2003) and I
almost wanted to kill them for being so rude and horrible with their customer
service. I would rather take out my eyeball then do customer business with them
ever again. Nope.
*) I’m not sure what this WCCO radio announcer
is getting at by asking his radio listeners to boycott shopping the entire of
downtown, Minneapolis. What. I don’t get his anger and I don’t find it
completely justified to punish an entire section of a city just to get even
with the Minneapolis city council.
He seems quite angry over the airwaves at the
Minneapolis city council as far as $42.00 parking fines are concerned for
parking tickets, which I consider such a sum wrong however and nevertheless a boycott is set forth, only, for the
influence against discrimination, prejudices and contemporary slavery; not to pick a bone with (fill in the blank).
Be careful to make the entire of downtown’s
business community suffer because one man has a particular bone to pick and /
or a personal vendetta against a particular political system; which his
scolding holds no grounds to make every business suffer at the expense of a
rhetorical lash out. Period.
If he is the bigger man then he will go back
and correct his mistake and misinformation to the general public; if he has a
problem with the Minneapolis city council then he needs to take it up
specifically with them as one of the Minneapolis city council’s taxpayers; and if he lives in the suburbs then he needs
to keep his mouth shut about abusing downtown’s economy through-and-by the
means of a boycott of the entire downtown.
What he’s done is wrong and all it requires
is a public correction and an apology if he so wishes to do so. Otherwise,
being wrong is being wrong anyway you look at it.
Yes, I can’t stand downtown, St. Paul but
that’s because it has an element of danger and I’ve almost gotten killed (literally)
on those very streets of St. Paul by African-American thugs. I refuse to enter
the St. Paul city limits however I’m not asking you to boycott all of St. Paul
by any means. Cheers.
Downtown, Minneapolis must be financially supported
by the consumers, citizens and civilians of the Twin Cities Metro Area because
it’s a joy, a privilege, a luxury and a flower to be there and to feel the
grandiosity of a beautiful metropolis.
I love downtown Minneapolis because I wanted
to live in a city otherwise if it becomes a ghost town then there’s no reason
for us to live here at all.
One doesn’t call for a boycott against an
entire area of a city simply because one is mad at the civic procedures and
laws in place; one boycotts a specific product, establishment or policy because
people get discriminated against their person, their livelihoods and racial,
age, gender and disability discrimination; not as a general concept does one
use a boycott as a personal gains to personal satisfaction.
A boycott is very serious business and, one, doesn’t throw around that word
unless people’s civil rights and liberties hang in the balance and then the people are justified to do so.
Furthermore, I’m a private American citizen
and civilian writing under a private company; I can hold steadfast to any
opinion that I wish to have about anything no matter how derogatory or vulgar;
insightful or wise.
No, I’m not a public figure and thus a public
figure must realize the implications to calling out for a boycott over the broadcasted-and-far-reaching
airwaves.
I’m so disappointed in this public figure
because well, I just thought that he really cared about downtown Minneapolis and
its economy. If he wishes to change the Minneapolis city council then he must
find other mediums and ways to do so without harming the overall economical
vitality of downtown, Minneapolis: our sister.
No, I don’t think he ought to be reprimanded
or punished for his personal viewpoints, I
like that he thinks so differently than I do.
I don’t find any misconduct in his behavior.
Only as a form of introspection, I’d ask him
to reconsider his viewpoint because his voice, can, and, does create damage across
the airwaves. I’m so bummed. I think he’s so cool and I don’t even know what he
looks like or what his name is.
Yes, I called for a specific personal boycott
of the downtown, Minneapolis Target store of one year until November 14, 2013
so that that particular store may have time to put their discriminatory house
in order, but, truly, I can’t wait to
shop there as soon as my personal boycott is over (with a specific end date)
which my personal boycott won’t last forever because I love shopping at the
downtown Target store, however some serious policies need to take place and
change for the benefit of people’s civil rights and liberties. Racial profiling
isn’t acceptable by any stretch of the imagination.
Now, go and be prosperous and shop at all of the
other Targets in the world.
Target is a great company but they sure must
make some serious policy changes because their minimum wage employees and
customers are made to suffer and that’s not acceptable, plus I’m being informed
that it’s corporate that has inner-feuds and that’s why the company is
mismanaged. Pity. Minnesotans love Target.
Yes, please join me in shopping downtown,
Minneapolis because that’s where I do my shopping. I can’t help it. I fell in
love with downtown Minneapolis as of May 2004 when I moved here. It would be a
tragedy to lose downtown to a ghost town when she has so much to offer. She
sure is a gorgeous lady!!! Now, let’s conduct some business!
As for the $42.00 parking fines; that has to
change, absolutely.
Nevertheless, I’ve paid my parking fines because
I also know that it goes towards the city of Minneapolis which the city needs
it. If parking ticket, fees and fines are $42.00 then that tells you a lot about
the economical status of any city; they’re gouging their citizens, civilians
and tourists because well, I don’t want to say anymore. Cheers!
Peace.
November 29, 2012
“The hardest thing to understand in the world is the income tax.” - Albert Einstein
“When the federal government spends more each year than it collects
in tax revenues, it has three choices: It can raise taxes, print money, or
borrow money. While these actions may benefit politicians, all three options
are bad for average Americans.” - Ron
Paul
“I can make a firm pledge, under my plan, no family making less
than $250,000 a year will see any form of tax increase. Not your income tax,
not your payroll tax, not your capital gains taxes, not any of your taxes.” - President Barack Obama
“When there is an income tax, the just man will pay more and the
unjust less on the same amount of income.” - Plato
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Word of the day: Emolument
(Profit from office, Salary)
His emolument reached five figures.
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Happy Thursday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Yes.
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Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.
Supposedly: December 24, 2012: “Fiscal Cliff.” Negotiations; at the round table begins.
Personal note: Please don’t
kick the can down the road because The American People starve, make ends meet on $7.25 under a minimum wage
mandate which requires to be changed to $12.50 with the current inflation, disabilities,
and education has wavered, increase in university costs, our wounded troops and
their health care benefits haven’t ‘kicked in’ therefore their families
financially care for our wounded soldiers
while there’s no equal pay for equal work
when women carry the main financial burden of supporting their households; our homeless
youth live in abandoned buildings, shelters and cars while they keep their
families together and our seniors have paid into Medicare, all of the entire of
their careers yet politicians threaten to take away a service that they paid
into their entire working lives and no, social security doesn’t threaten the national
security of our economy by any means
necessary; (I’ll come back to the
subject of “Medicaid”.)
Furthermore, around 50% of the American
people are ‘hooked on’ pharmaceutical drugs waiting for “illegal drugs” to become
legalized in the form of market diversity and industrial competition, lift this
prohibition to get other types of
industry introduced into the market to build new school because our old ones
are falling over or filled with mold and asbestos, raising all teachers’
salaries to a livable and comparable wage, as well as dealing with the
oppression of a decade long war (not to forget to mention) that the world is safer more so now than it’s ever
been before in the history of humanity; rejoice.
Please, (only as a suggestion not as a plea) if
the public servants (of a divided
congress) of this great nation of ours have any heart left in them for their
constituents then please let this be a
moment in time in which our country is taken care of and heals from the deep
and gouging wounds of 911, Homeland Security (Gestapo, “Executive Order 66”), an
overcrowded prison system as an enterprise and not as a judicial branch of the
government, the recession, outsourcing, contaminated foreign merchandise and
products coming into the United States without FDA strict regulations, a
severely misbehaved CIA and FBI, an overly stuffed inflation, the “Great Depression
II”, “Vietnam II”, lack of health care benefits for the general public, lack of
food labeling on FDA approved products (what’s in our food?) while child
obesity has taken our country by storm as well as general obesity, loss of
music and arts funding and education, illiteracy, solutions to the very factual
and real “global warming” taking effect in our world today, improper ‘fracking’
(hydraulic
fracturing), improper coal mining, Canadian pipeline, contaminated
sea life from nuclear reactor natural disasters and oil spills, floods,
drought, massive and severe property damage, ‘Katrina’, ‘Storm Sandy’,
hurricanes, allowing large conglomerates to run government with powerful
lobbyists and lawyers in bed with each other, in the near future placing civilian surveillance and police cameras
to a vote as a pressing matter through the courts, while politicians try to steal second base by trying to take
away reproductive and contraceptive human civil liberties and rights, while
oppressing our same-sex couples out of their sacred vows in marriage union as
part of their civil liberties and rights only because religion is an antiquated
and outdated system going into the 21st century being left behind in
the dust by a strong cultural revolution of The American People, voter
suppression. Let’s all breathe a moment… Did
I leave anything out? Oh, yes immigration reform and stricter gun control
laws. Police brutality and racial profiling. Super Pacs.
And you keep ‘making fun of’ the conspiracy of “Big Foot;”
Please let’s address any subject matter objectively because that’s what intellectuals do right (any
thinking human brains’ rights in the pursuit
of happiness, liberty and life) and
that’s what Americans have always done with
a kick of the pioneering spirit, “Native American” powerful healing
spiritual medicine, humor and humility, as well as we keep pace with tradition
of excellence in etiquette so as not to come
out swinging like the rough cowboys that we truly are, ultimately. This great nation of ours isn’t blind to oppression
because our government began by stealing the lands of the Native Americans and murdering
their tribes, as well as slavery as in
the buying-and-trading of African-American humans and others. We’re an established
nation who believes in ‘life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness’ but not at
the expense of our neighbors’ bloodshed when most people generally speaking
hate their neighbors and harbor a secret envy yet we mind our own business and
we take care of our own. Incredible!
Ha! Whew!
First, {I’ll write like an Indigenous and
that can’t be helped because I’ll be writing like an Indigenous chief (however I’m not an official chief of any
type.) No, I’m not here to whine, complain, beg or plead. I’m here to talk
about the realities of this nation to veer us from an enormous ice floe. No,
I’m not any type of expert on the subjects of politics and economics. I’m one
human woman on the ground looking as
an anthropologist does while watching this cultural revolution and class economical
war dividing our great citizens and civilians with the need to balance-out our
civilian liberties, rights and justice against those of our economical unequal
wealth in distribution.} Thank you. Truly.
First point: increasing the 2011 ‘debt ceiling’ was
wrong to do: We all know it. Why?
Because there’s a law in place to protect our country from further faltering debt.
Period.
No, I didn’t believe in raising the debt ceiling
last year (2011) however I understood the many subtle complexities of being up
against the wall, a rock and a hard place. Last year’s debt ceiling was a gift,
a luxury, really in the aftermath of
an economical tsunami tidal wave to give the financiers of 2009 a break in the
form of a bank-bailout and a faltering real estate market and a gorging inflation
some leeway which left many Americans homeless; yes, homeless.
Second Point: Our low-income earners and our middle
income earners can’t afford an annual two-thousand tax hike increase. Period.
Why? Because most Americans struggling to get
by on $20,000 per year (considered ‘working poor’) as a family unit of four or
more persons can barely afford their monthly food budgets, clothing and other
household expenses.
As for those who earn roughly around $50,000
per annual income they get gouged by taxes already as-it-is because they’re at
that income thresh hold that keeps them back as a captive audience.
Second, yes, I do believe in raising any tax
rates on those upper class earners who make $250,000.00 annually no matter how
much fixed the tax rate may be and stays well below that $250,000.00 there must
be a percentile (30%) chosen to fit the lifestyles and the contributions of
these upstanding members of society who are at the bottom rung of the upper
income earner’s ladder.
Why? Because do you know how difficult it is
to make two-hundred and fifty thousand per annual salary in professions such as
the presidency ($400,000.00), doctors, professors, lawyers and administrators?
Quite.
These types of high income earners ($250,000.00)
work long-and-tough hours with the very little rewards of extended vacations,
time with their families (not to forget to mention) that many financially carry
more than their households as well as other members of their families and their
aging elders; these folks pass up the simple luxuries like relaxation reading,
sightseeing and travel, while saving towards their own retirements, in order to
fulfill many financial duties and responsibilities to their families and
communities by donating 30% of their earned incomes towards financial donations
while contributing towards the overall investment of our nation, communities
and world.
Third, I do
in fact believe that resolving a certain type of comprable percentile in a
tax increase (30%) ought to begin at $250,000.00 as part of annual income salary.
Because that’s a group of well established citizens and civilians who can
afford $2,000 in a tax hike increase and not
break the bank while anyone under that sum well, it’s as good a guess as any the economical difficulties and
financial burdens that these households deal with on a daily basis, especially if
debt is high in these particular households while they put their adult children
through expensive universities.
Why? Because by the time a citizen or
civilian has made $250,000.00 dollars per annual income in salary then they’ve
made it. Truly. They get awarded the benefits of living within their means and
contributing to society at large without taking from the needy or stealing from
the Über wealthy
(who make, let’s just say one million
or more per annual income in salary.)
Four, yes, I do believe that if an individual
makes one million-to-fifty million per annual income in salary then those
individuals ought to pay 50% in taxes. It’s a duty to do so.
If any individual makes more than fifty
million per annual income in salary then I do believe that they ought to pay
90% in taxes because by the time an individual brings home such distinguished
bacon of fifty million annual income earnings then goodness all there’s to do
is to contribute back to society at large in every way possible such as those
upper income earners of the 1950’s who believed that they ought to contribute
more out of a patriotic obligation when they paid 90% in taxes.
In conclusion: it’s all very complex and there are many
aspects of negotiations that must take place, respectfully with the American
taxpayers in mind, but more so; The American People’s taxes ought not to go
towards funding mosques getting built abroad on the roadsides of Afghanistan at
a whopping one-hundred and sixty five million dollars per year because our
people suffer so.
Tax revenue, well, the American government
has got as much of it as they can get from the mouths of the low income earners
(‘working poor’) and the ‘middle income earners’, any more than that and a
revolution could be upon their doorstep because the Americans are tired of this
decade long war and badly transitioned economies from one source of power to
another, homelessness and horribly-made financial decisions by those very
leaders who were supposed to safeguard the people’s tax revenues in currency
and not squander it away like political bootleggers.
Sincerely,
Gabriel
P.S. Yes, Ambassador Susan Rice would make a
magnificent secretary of state.
*) Please bring our troops home like
tomorrow. Thank you.
*) Grover Norquist isn’t a great example of
what an excellent public servant ought to be. A pledge is for kindergarteners.
Please be careful and don’t play with the people’s emotions, taxpaying
sensibilities and their liberties or they’ll replace any public servant who
hates their guts and they’ll know it; it’s that transparent.
*) If legislators don’t want to legislate in
the next two years then lets hold elections and set public servants in place
who will work for the people. Period. What do you mean legislators don’t want
to legislate in the next two years? Have they gone mad? What’s their job
description? Oh, boy!
*) Please don’t point.
Pointing is considered extremely rude by all
accounts across many cultures. It’s lowbrow at its finest. I point; out of mockery and that’s considered a
double-whammy because I know exactly what I’m doing and two-wrongs don’t make a
right.
*) A
slip of the tongue is a slip of the tongue and it deserves forgiveness, any
Royal knows to have mercy; please don’t be so judgmental because when it
happens to you then you’ll be seeking forgiveness from God(s) and Her Majesty
and you can only hope that they can find it in their hearts to forgive a mere
mortal. Ha!
*) Yes, the rules to business etiquette have indeed
changed with social online media.
Now, it’s completely wrong for any patron to
log online and linguistically ableriate any business on any Facebook online
webpage, as well as, it’s just as wrong for any business owner to ableriate any
patron in response.
No, any patron may not use derogatory
language while on Facebook about any specific businesses, their products and
services however a patron may formally criticize all day long about any complaints or concerns that they may have,
nevertheless they must keep it kosher and family friendly (PG Rating) because
(all content is owned by Facebook and neither by the patrons nor any business
establishments and don’t you forget it.)
(Wink, wink.) Ha!
if a patron has a huge problem or concern with any business
establishment, products or services then either address it
directly in the moment (if that’s too difficult of a communication style then
do write a formal complaint
while on Facebook) yes, respectfully address it on Facebook or get a company
blog or a personal online website and complain about it until you go blue in the face, however not on
Facebook, not ever because that’s considered a public forum and not your
personal stomping grounds for self-expression. Period.
Now, if any patron makes any rude and
derogatory complaints online specifically while on a Facebook page then it’s
not only the duty but also the obligation of the owners and establishment “to
be the bigger person” and not to get entangled with a patron’s fury.
If establishments’ employees and owners so
much as swear, mock and belittle a belligerent patron then that tells you everything you need to know about the owners and their
establishments; they’re just as lowbrow as the ignorant and belligerent patron
and the food probably isn’t very good, if
it has to be defended through-and-by the means of derogatory comebacks, because
any human who has nothing to worry about their craft and products then can
shrug off any insult; believe me; I’ve
got to do it on a daily basis. I force myself to be the bigger person when responding to crude e-mails. Ha!
I have to shrug off a lot of ridiculous
comments and this is a blog under a private company page with serious legal
counsel (and don’t you forget it.) No, this isn’t Facebook, be very careful and
back up.
I’d say grow
a thicker skin and get hip to it because online commentary is here to stay
and when any patron is making any type of formal complaints on Facebook or
online that’s just as good as face-to-face communication because our culture
has become a cyber-culture and that’s not going to change ever again.
Peace.
November 28, 2012
Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee
By
Dee Brown
Excerpt:
Chapter
1
Communications between the tribes of
the New World were slow, and news of the Europeans’ barbarities rarely overtook
the rapid spread of new conquests and settlements. Long before the
English-speaking white men arrived in Virginia in 1607, however, the Powhatans
had heard rumors about the civilizing techniques of the Spaniards. The
Englishmen used subtler methods. To ensure peace long enough to establish a
settlement at Jamestown, they put a golden crown upon the head of
Wahunsonacook, dubbed him King Powhatan, and convinced him that he should put
his people to work supplying the white settlers with food. Wahunsonacook
vacillated between loyalty to his rebellious subjects and to the English, but
after John Rolfe married his daughter, Pocahontas, he apparently decided that
he was more English than Indian. After Wahunsonacook died, the Powhatans rose
up in revenge to drive the Englishmen back into the sea from which they had
come, but the Indians underestimated the power of English weapons. In a short
time the eight thousand Powhatans were reduced to less than a thousand.
In Massachusetts the story began somewhat
differently but ended virtually the same as in Virginia. After the Englishmen
landed at Plymouth in 1620, most of them probably would have starved to death
but for aid received from friendly natives of the New World. A Pemaquid named
Samoset and three Wampanoags named Massasoit, Squanto, and Hobomah became
self-appointed missionaries to the Pilgrims. All spoke some English, learned
from explorers who had touched ashore in previous years. Squanto had been
kidnapped by an English seaman who sold him into slavery in Spain, but he
escaped through the aid of another Englishman and finally managed to return
home. He and the other Indians regarded the Plymouth colonists as helpless
children; they shared corn with them from the tribal stores, showed them where
and how to catch fish, and got them through the first winter. When spring came
they gave the white men some seed corn and showed them how to plant and
cultivate it.
For several years these Englishmen and their
Indian neighbors lived in peace, but many more shiploads of white people
continued coming ashore. The ring of axes and the crash of falling trees echoed
up and down the coasts of the land which the white men now called New England.
Settlements began crowding in upon each other. In 1625 some of the colonists
asked Samoset to give them 12,000 additional acres of Pemaquid land. Samoset
knew that land came from the Great Spirit, was as endless as the sky, and
belonged to no man. To humor these strangers in their strange ways, however, he
went through a ceremony of transferring the land and made his mark on a paper
for them. It was the first deed of Indian land to English colonists.
Most of the other settlers, coming in by
thousands now, did not bother to go through such a ceremony. By the time
Massasoit, great chief of the Wampanoags, died in 1662 his people were being
pushed back into the wilderness. His son Metacom foresaw doom for all Indians
unless they united to resist the invaders. Although the New Englanders
flattered Metacom by crowning him King Philip of Pokanoket, he devoted most of
his time to forming alliances with the Narragansetts and other tribes in the
region.
In 1675, after a series of arrogant actions
by the colonists, King Philip led his Indian confederacy into a war meant to
save the tribes from extinction. The Indians attacked fifty-two settlements,
completely destroying twelve of them, but after months of fighting, the
firepower of the colonists virtually exterminated the Wampanoags and
Narragansetts. King Philip was killed and his head publicly exhibited at
Plymouth for twenty years. Along with other captured Indian women and children,
his wife and young son were sold into slavery in the West Indies.
When the Dutch came to Manhattan Island,
Peter Minuit purchased it for sixty guilders in fishhooks and glass beads, but
encouraged the Indians to remain and continue exchanging their valuable
peltries for such trinkets. In 1641, Willem Kieft levied tribute upon the
Mahicans and sent soldiers to Staten Island to punish the Raritans for offenses
which had been committed not by them but by white settlers. The Raritans
resisted arrest, and the soldiers killed four of them. When the Indians
retaliated by killing four Dutchmen, Kieft ordered the massacre of two entire
villages while the inhabitants slept. The Dutch soldiers ran their bayonets
through men, women, and children, hacked their bodies to pieces, and then
leveled the villages with fire.
For two more centuries these events were
repeated again and again as the European colonists moved inland through the
passes of the Alleghenies and down the westward-flowing rivers to the Great
Waters (the Mississippi) and then up the Great Muddy (the Missouri).
The Five Nations of the Iroquois, mightiest
and most advanced of all the eastern tribes, strove in vain for peace. After
years of bloodshed to save their political independence, they finally went down
to defeat. Some escaped to Canada, some fled westward, some lived out their
lives in reservation confinement.
During the 1760s Pontiac of the Ottawas
united tribes in the Great Lakes country in hopes of driving the British back
across the Alleghenies, but he failed. His major error was an alliance with
French-speaking white men who withdrew aid from the peaux-rouges during the
crucial siege of Detroit.
A generation later, Tecumseh of the Shawnees
formed a great confederacy of midwestern and southern tribes to protect their
lands from invasion. The dream ended with Tecumseh’s death in battle during the
War of 1812.
Between 1795 and 1840 the Miamis fought
battle after battle, and signed treaty after treaty, ceding their rich Ohio
Valley lands until there was none left to cede.
---
--- ---
Word of the day: Umbrage
(Offense, Resentment) Ha! Wonderful word.
Do not take umbrage at my criticism.
---
--- ---
Happy Wednesday!
Happy ‘Hump Day!’
Aloha.
Oh, I’m running out of time yet once again. I’ve
got way more work than I can keep up with this week. Oh, well. No, I’m not
stressed out in the least bit but I’ve been getting up at 4:30 A.M. to meet
many of the year’s end responsibilities. Whew!
Wow!
*) Yes, abbreviations don’t require periods
such as for example “FBI”; yes, I do
spell abbreviations with periods such as “F.B.I.” Ha! Ha! Ha! The way that I do
it is incorrect and annoying to first English speakers, thus I’ll stop, now.
(Obviously some abbreviations use periods but when I use them then I add
incorrect periods with incorrect abbreviations in the incorrect places.)
*) Yes, from here on forth I shall spell out
“Indigenous” rather than making use of the derogatory and quite racist word “Indian”.
Let’s all turn a new leaf. I’ll make
it my goal and challenge in-the-new-year-to-come for all of our sakes not to use such a racist word for the sake of mocking
racism itself because it gets us nowhere and the philosophical point goes over
most people’s heads.
We’ll all learn to break a bad habit of using
such a nasty little word such as “Indian.” Wonderful. I’ve had enough of the
word “Indian” to last me two-full lifetimes yet I use it to mock anything
racist. Yes, it’s improper and incorrect for me to do so, yet there it is in
black ink for the rest of the world to witness and to learn something of value.
Watch me become literary excellence because
frustration, anger and irritation don’t particularly work very well in teaching
deep and meaningful, philosophical aspects to life because it’s a hallow
justice and I’ve known it all along,
yet I’m trying to teach something of value to the culture at large before my
time here is over. Get it?
I must learn to stop mocking that which is
hateful and apply love to it even though hatred kicks in my ego’s teeth to be
kind to racism, bigotry, hatred, discrimination and prejudice. Yep. I must
become a better type of “Christian” if I want to get into heaven. Ha! (Just kidding. Hopefully, I’ll make my way to
“Flower Mountain”; the Maya “heaven.”)
I’ve had some leeway since May 14, 2012 to
get out much of my anger, frustration and irritation upon the page;
nevertheless, we’re entering the dawn of
a new age and I must get with it because the Maya New Year’s is just around
the corner and I know perfectly well what I must do.
No, I’m not going to get all shallow and
pretend-nice across the page, but I sure will teach some lessons on humility
just as Mrs. Melanie Hamilton Wilkes taught Scarlet O’Hara her humanity to
become more of a woman rather than just another empty female vessel.
I look forward to the personal challenge of
less literary vulgarity, less cursing and well, more philosophical reasoning
and human justice in a way that will either make you fear for your very souls
or get you to wake up to your existences. I
don’t mean anything by this; only love, believe it or not. Yes.
Yes, I’ve been teaching the very realities of
literary vulgarities but it doesn’t seem to work out very well because you guys
just kept getting madder-and-madder and learned the wrong moral lesson, all
together, therefore, I’ve failed you in communication and in learning the wrong
lesson instead of the right moral lesson.
I shall communicate in better ways with you
from now on. It’s my literary duty but don’t think that a tongue lashing is
ever, too, far away for you to learn something of value.
Oh, beautiful ones, life sure is complex and
difficult at the best of times.
*) Yes, I’m working on using less literary derogatory,
vulgar and offensive language as well as curse words because they get old fast.
Really old fast!!!
*) Yes, from now on there will be a ‘word of
the day’. Oh, do I have some new juicy words for you guys. I love vocabulary. I
do.
*) Yes, I use “Google translator” to more precisely
and properly write in Spanish. Believe it or not I speak fluent Spanish yet
it’s my most difficult language to write-in with the accents marks, punctuation
and such. Yes, I can write volumes in Spanish but not properly and correctly
punctuated. (Sigh.) How annoying, indeed.
I’m an atrocious writer in Spanish and in
many other languages. I am. I’m guilty of placing accents in all of the wrong
places. I put them wherever my eyeball best sees fit even when it’s incorrect.
How remarkably annoying to linguistic perfectionists. Quite annoying. Ha!
*) Yes, use any type of translator or
linguistic tool to more properly spell and say what you mean to say on the
written page.
I’m teaching myself Mandarin and it’s not
easy at the best of times however I do like learning Mandarin and I’ll continue
on my linguistic quest. Next is Arabic. I can’t help it; languages come quite
easily to me so does mathematics and musical arrangement but please don’t ask
me to punctuate anything correctly, do math ‘from the top of my head’ or play a
single note. I’ve got my strengths and weakness and it doesn’t mean that I
don’t know what’s going on. Ha!
An Indigenous peace to you;
Gabriel
P.S. Yes, thank you.
I just heard that the new James Bond 007 film
is out now and I can’t wait to see it.
Yes, I just started watching the James Bond
films about a year ago. I know I know. I’ve got a lot of cinema to get through.
Cheers!
*) Wow! I
fell head over heels for “Of Gods and Men” music.
Way to go Graham Norton!!! Cheers! Thank you.
*) Yes, the new “Lincoln” movie is out. I
can’t wait to see it. I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on about
former President Lincoln. Wow!!!
November 27, 2012
Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee
By
Dee Brown
Excerpt:
“Their Manners Are Decorous and Praiseworthy”
Chapter 1
It began with Christopher Columbus,
who gave the people the name Indios. Those Europeans, the white men, spoke in
different dialects, and some pronounced the word Indien, or Indianer, or
Indian. Peaux-rouges, or redskins, came later. As was the custom of the people
when receiving strangers, the Tainos on the island of San Salvador generously
presented Columbus and his men with gifts and treated them with honor.
“So tractable, so peaceable, are these
people,” Columbus wrote to the King and Queen of Spain, “that I swear to your
Majesties there is not in the world a better nation. They love their neighbors
as themselves, and their discourse is ever sweet and gentle, and accompanied
with a smile; and though it is true that they are naked, yet their manners are
decorous and praiseworthy.”
All this, of course, was taken as a sign of
weakness, if not heathenism, and Columbus being a righteous European was
convinced the people should be “made to work, sow and do all that is necessary
and to adopt our ways.” Over the next four centuries (1492–1890) several
million Europeans and their descendants undertook to enforce their ways upon
the people of the New World.
Columbus kidnapped ten of his friendly Taino
hosts and carried them off to Spain, where they could be introduced to the
white man’s ways. One of them died soon after arriving there, but not before he
was baptized a Christian. The Spaniards were so pleased that they had made it
possible for the first Indian to enter heaven that they hastened to spread the
good news throughout the West Indies.
The Tainos and other Arawak people did not
resist conversion to the Europeans’ religion, but they did resist strongly when
hordes of these bearded strangers began scouring their islands in search of
gold and precious stones. The Spaniards looted and burned villages; they
kidnapped hundreds of men, women, and children and shipped them to Europe to be
sold as slaves. Arawak resistance brought on the use of guns and sabers, and
whole tribes were destroyed, hundreds of thousands of people in less than a
decade after Columbus set foot on the beach of San Salvador, October 12, 1492.
---
--- ---
Word of the day: Shibboleth
(Criterion, Test)
He was subjected to ridicule because of his
ignorance of that social shibboleth.
---
--- ---
Happy Tuesday!
Aloha.
Oh, I ran out of time, yet again.
I had way, too, many other responsibilities
to fulfill.
Now, I’ve got no idea what’s going on in the
media, juicy.
*) Oh, dear little Star Tribune, get hip to
it or the world will leave you far behind in the dust!
Last night before I retired for the evening I
caught a headline that read: “$3.4 billion Indian land royalty lawsuit ends after nearly 17
years, checks to be disbursed.”
Wow! I could barely believe my eyes as to the usage of the word “Indian”
in a newspaper headline. Who’s the editor
over there? (Don’t answer that. It’s rhetorical.)
I almost fell over with laughter at the racism and the archaic
usage of the written word “Indian” which is considered the equivalency in derogatory
language as “nigger.”
Now, only Indians may call themselves and each
other “Indians.”
We all know why, right? Right.
*) Oh, our dear little teens of the Twin Cities Metro Area: Our
teens are getting killed on our streets and well, our prayers are with them, always.
Yes, on April
1st, 2013: I’ll get back to the readers about our Minneapolis J-Walkers,
car accidents and suicidal pedestrians.
*) “Castle Doctrine” Duty
to retreat and don’t you forget it. No citizen may murder in cold blood and
any shooter may not continue to keep firing especially at our little babies,
our little teenagers. Oh, my word!
*) Yes, we put up our Holiday lights! So exciting!
*) No, I’m not best friends with my in-laws (I’ve got my own
private and personal best friends for that matter) however the in-laws and I do
get along fabulously even when we disagree with one another and even when we’re
a bit culturally bossy with each other.
Yes, we actually disagree; get short with each other especially
when we get low-blood sugar. No, we don’t pretend like each other’s business is
our own. Please.
I’m quite private about my personal life however when it comes
down to the well-being and health of our family members then we’re all on equal
footing and we care quite deeply about each other and what happens to the
members of our family.
We conduct excellent etiquette and I’m extremely close with my
Father’s family and my Minnesota family because they’re the greatest family
that I’ve ever had, hands down.
No, I’ve got no delusions when it comes to the in-laws.
Culturally we have many differences that keep us facing reality in every possible
respectful manner.
No, I don’t need to be best friends with my in-laws however we
do need to keep it kosher and we’ve proven that we can and will continue to do
so.
*) What would you know
about me? Nothing.
No, I’m not only from Duluth, Minnesota.
I lived in the jungle barrio for the first 6-years of my life
with my birth mother and grandmother (I know who I am; thank you very much), 4-years
in a Costa Rican orphanage, 5-years in Duluth, Minnesota (ages 10-15), 8-years
studying in different private and public institutions completely away from Duluth, Minnesota.
At the age of 23 (2001); I returned to Duluth as an adult and
left (2004) at the age of 26.
I’d been living for the past 8-years in Uptown, Minneapolis. Wow,
how incredible.
Since 2007; I’ve been working for a private film company.
No, Duluth doesn’t even come close to claiming my heart.
Duluth has a piece of my soul but not my heart.
Yes, I grew up summers and winters in the East Coast, New
England, N.Y.C. and New Jersey; more specifically (1888-2008) / (20-years of
running around the East Coast.)
Yes, I’ve spent more Holidays in New England and in Boston than
I have anywhere else in my life; about 15 or so.
As an adult I lived and worked in Boston, Massachusetts.
No, New England doesn’t claim my heart either.
Now, for the past 2.5 months I’ve been living in Robbinsdale,
Minnesota, (5 miles) from downtown Minneapolis and it’s been a bit of a rough
transition, but I think we’re going to make it.
Don’t ever assume to know where I come from and what land claims
me because I wear many lands and cultures upon my sleeve.
No one gets to
tell me what I am however if you so much as humble yourselves with a question
then I’ll answer any question that anyone has the courage to ask instead of
social climbing one’s way through people’s connections from here to the East
Coast and back. There’s nothing more annoying than people who want to become
diplomats in search of power and nothing more, while telling others, what they
think, the other is, without ever so much as asking a single question, in about
15-years, and telling lies, about familial connections. Please.
Cheers!
Gabriel
November 26, 2012
“All the great things are simple, and many can be expressed in a
single word: freedom, justice, honor, duty, mercy, hope.” - Winston Churchill
“At his best, man is the noblest of all animals; separated from
law and justice he is the worst.” -
Aristotle
“In matters of truth and justice, there is no difference between
large and small problems, for issues concerning the treatment of people are all
the same.” - Albert Einstein
“Where justice is denied, where poverty is enforced, where
ignorance prevails, and where any one class is made to feel that society is an
organized conspiracy to oppress, rob and degrade them, neither persons nor
property will be safe.” - Frederick
Douglass
Happy Monday!
Aloha.
No blog.
Today I bit off more than I could chew.
I had way, too, many other pressing
responsibilities to fulfill.
Sorry, guys.
I’ve got so many thoughts to share with you.
Now, I’ve got no idea what’s going on in the
media, juicy.
I’m wishing you all an amazing night amongst beloved
ones on this cold, cold Minnesota night.
Sincerely,
Gabriel
November 23, 2012
“Even so, one step from my grave, I believe that cruelty, spite,
The powers of darkness will in time, Be crushed by the spirit of light.” -
Boris Pasternak
Happy Friday!
Aloha.
No, there’s no “fiscal cliff.”
Please, don’t make me laugh that hard.
Now, propaganda will spread quite far to
instill fear into the hearts of the Americans because the financial powers that
be ‘hate our guts’ and fear us far more
than we fear this make-believe “fiscal cliff’.
So sit back and relax, don’t buy into the
mass media hype and propaganda; get educated about world markets, increasing
rates, spending and margins. Ha!
Sincerely,
Gabriel
P.S. I’m an adult woman and it’s my
prerogative to change my mind (at any given moment) about how I feel about the
Minnesotans. Live with it.
November 22, 2012
“Cruelty
is contagious in uncivilized communities.” -
Harriet Ann Jacobs
Happy Thursday!
Happy Thanksgiving!
Aloha.
Please keep in mind our military abroad.
Please.
Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Wonderful!
November 21, 2012
“The ultimate tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty by the bad
people but the silence over that by the good people.” - Martin Luther King Jr. (I don’t necessarily like using his quotes
because he was a proven plagiarist.)
“All
cruelty springs from weakness.” - Lucius
Annaeus Seneca
“Fear is the main source of superstition, and one of the
main sources of cruelty. To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom.” - Bertrand Russell
“Ignorant kindness may have the effect of cruelty; but to be angry
with it as if it were direct cruelty would be an ignorant unkindness.” - George Eliot
Happy Wednesday-Friday!
Happy Thanksgiving Eve!!!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Yes. (I mean, you can dance
and I’ll stand back and quietly watch.)
I’m feeling a bit shy today by a woman who gave
me her best megawatt smile like “The Joker” but when she thought that I wasn’t
looking or paying keen relaxed attention then I caught her giving me a ‘quick over’
and a deadly sneaky little look that left
me shivering with fear right down to the bone.
She was competing for no good reason without the agreement that we were in some type
of competition. I thought we were women making it in the world but instead she
made us adversaries. Pity.
I ran as I always do when I find other animals dangerous in the forest. Yikes! She sized me up like a ‘piece of
trash’ in the way real mean girls do but
not as much as I did her, after that look, I lost all interest in anything that
she had to say about her…
---
--- ---
I’m ever so grateful for life.
One year ago I almost died and well, life
sure is precious.
Yes, literally;
I went in for an emergency operation / surgery the week after Thanksgiving 2011
and all I hoped for was to come out of it alive. (No, “fibroids” aren’t
necessarily life-threatening but they can be and mine were life-threatening
because they had grown to the size of grapefruits (3 in total); (after
seventeen years of medical misdiagnosis) and well, the fibroids were ready to
burst open and yes, I would’ve bled to death if I so much as laughed too hard.)
I was afraid to death and rightly so. I could barely sit up and
breathe most days and well, here I am today. The Gods had a completely
different plan for me. They forced me to live and they made sure to let me know
that it wasn’t my time yet. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
--- ----- ---
Look, I’m
being informed that most people (all around) have tough familial
relationships with their family members no matter how much they may fake it; it’s difficult at the best of
times thus what I have to tell you is
this; be the bigger person.
Be the human that you wish to be; a human carved out of excellence, kindness
and trust even when the entire world’s falling apart around you and people sure
can be and are cruel, deceiving and ridiculous.
Pray hold your tongues around the
Thanksgiving tables and breathe even if your mothers and aunts are gossiping
harpies about everyone in the family
and verbally abusive, your uncles are drunks (DUI’s) and so are your cousins (kicked
out of Fenway Park for drunk disorderly conduct, twice) and siblings (who puke
in the streets and black out).
Please, if you’re that one family member who
takes on too much responsibility and who tries to ‘cover up’ the abuse and the
brutality of your families, well, then this is your Thanksgiving 2012 to turn a
new leaf and to breathe. Do nothing but be great guests.
No, you don’t even have to do the dishes if
you’re an invited guest at your relatives’ homes. As a matter of fact you don’t
even have to so much as lift a pinky finger but to pass the mashed potatoes and
silently take it all in.
You’re an invited guest thus bring the
hostess a little inexpensive gift, watch for her humility and smile that
gorgeous smile of yours.
Leave your animosity out on the street and relax
because you’ve already won.
You’re the bigger person for showing up at a
dysfunctional family gathering even when others are envious, jealous and ready
to place a dagger through your back.
Look at it this way: at least you’ll have great stories to share
with your friends and loved ones facing the same difficulties elsewhere.
Now, just because, per say, one’s, siblings
are in the bathroom blacked out, with their pants around their ankles and
locked in some stranger’s bathroom; don’t ‘cover up’ for them as difficult
as that may be; yes, they’re complete idiotic ‘asshole’ drunks that deserve to have their hair flushed down
the toilet after you urinate in it, but seriously make sure that they’re
safe in mixed company and no, don’t make excuses for them because anyone around
with a single I.Q. in their brains can see right through the transparency of
any dysfunctional alcoholic family members.
It’s
best to smile and shrug it off. Don’t judge others.
Please,
don’t become a “babbling idiot” just because you’re so embarrassed to have to ‘cover
up’ for others’ alcoholic, cruelty and misbehaving dysfunctions (all of the
time).
Yes, it gets old having to ‘cover up’ for
others and their over-eating, drunkenness and deceiving jealousies, but remember
that’s not your job to take care of dysfunctional people.
Your job is to be great, kind and happy guests
and the hosts should know better than to make you their slaves while in their
homes; so no cleaning up an entire meal by yourselves because that’s what’s
called ‘getting used’ and everyone else knows it but they’re too lazy to do
anything about it and give a lending hand.
Don’t apologize for the appalling misconduct
and misbehavior in others even when your
one horny uncle is coming onto you or your cousins just because he hates your one bitch hateful aunt who is the
same as her sisters who hate so much; sisters who make everyone’s lives
miserable with their hate instead of their love. Yes, every family has that one
perverted or horny uncle who wants to get it on with someone and we all know it.
*) (Correction: from “you’re” as in (you are)
to “your” as in belonging.)
In the past decade (2005): (Mind you, I was
27 years old; no, I wasn’t a child), I attended a particular family gathering
in New England in which my mother’s ‘newly’ idiotic ‘asshole’ boyfriend (at
that time; I never saw him again; yes, a Harvard man) kept poking me with his erect
penis from behind while I stood in front of a stove. I was beside myself.
I couldn’t help but jump with fear every time
he poked me and everyone on the other side of the kitchen counter / island could
see right through the disgrace and no one said anything especially not my
mother. I almost burst into tears, but instead I ‘covered up’ for the pervert
and tried to disguise the fear in my eyes with oblivion.
I could see it in their eyes, on the other
side of the counter that they liked the cruelty and brutality not to mention
the humiliation that I was made to endure. I could see the dancing bare naked
fat smiles behind their eyes as they were trying to hide those smiles while I
almost burst into tears at their cruelty. Gross.
The first time he did that gesture; I could see it as a mistake, but by the
third time I should’ve turned around and slapped the pervert with all my might.
(No, I don’t believe in physical violence of any type or the misconduct of
throwing a drink in any man’s face. How vulgar indeed. How archaic.)
Nevertheless, I’m starting to believe that
in dire circumstances a man may just deserve it.
If that were today; I’d turn around and directly address the pervert.
People sure are dirty, mean and grossly out
of bounds with their physical horny demeanors; thus if a pervert touches you
improperly without your permission then verbally, honestly, and directly put
them in their place.
Today; I would turn around and say: “Must you
poke me with your erect penis from behind?” That’s all it would take to de-man
such a pervert invited as a stranger and as a guest at our family gathering.
Be great guests but don’t under any
circumstances allow for yourselves, your spouses and your children to be
disrespected on any regard. People sure are crazy and they must conduct
themselves on their best behavior when gathered around any tables.
No, I’m not estranged from some of my New England family but they
sure are estranged from me, because like
hell if they’ll put our future children at peril as they did with me and
the rest of my cousins. They’re the type that would get our young killed.
Please. Some have some serious apologies to make to me and to my cousins and
they have no power to will around demands, forced ‘dry-and-wet drunk’
brutalities and ultimatums. Please. I win. I win. I win. I’m the commanding
Alpha and I refuse to take-on any more abuse from ‘assholes’ who should’ve
known better.
Sanctimonious adoptions,
please; who are you trying to pull the
wool over?
Every adopted adult that I speak with has the same type of stories of
brutality, disrespect and injustice as I do. The greater the racial divide than
the more racism. People are coming out of the woodwork to tell me their deeply
sad and tragic stories about being adopted. The injustices are silently awful.
Caucasian privilege to “adopt”; buy slaves. Wow, nothing much changes in three
hundred years.
Newsflash, adopted slaves
hate their abusive families because they are treated as slaves and not as
family members. We would’ve had a better chance at love in the gutter and you
know that to be the awful to honest God truth and that’s what bites you so hard.
Ha! Pitiful.
No, don’t worry; I’m here in Minnesota and we’ll be spending
Thanksgiving with my Minnesota family who’ve not once put me at peril,
actually they saved my life once from my New England family and I shan’t forget
it for as long as I live.
Yes, we’ll be in Roseville, Minnesota with
people who have my best interest at heart and who love Eric and me unconditionally.
I’m a lucky bastard in my thirties.
Yes, I married into a huge family of in-laws who
love us so much. We won’t be spending Thanksgiving in Duluth, MN but we sure
will be at the farm in Kettle River at Christmas gathered around a large table
of kind, respectful and incredible people who we laugh wholeheartedly with and
the love is overflowing. I’ve fallen in love with my hundreds of in-laws and
especially my mother-in-law. Who knew? Yes, we get crabby at each other when
we’re both low-blood sugar. Ha!
I got lucky as an adult.
I’m wishing you a great Thanksgiving and if
things get too heated; well, then; an hour of gathering time will do and then
you can go to your quiet abodes and simply relax by yourselves.
No, don’t get depressed if you’re all alone
this Holiday season; seize the moment as a time to reflect, have some seriously
quiet downtime and enjoy the peace and quiet.
No, suicide isn’t the answer. Stay with us.
Everyone’s important. Everyone.
As for those in the East Coast; I’m
blowing you kisses (no, not like a dictator, either) from the bottom of my
heart.
I’m sorry that so many of you have no homes
to live in and are spending Thanksgiving as displaced persons. We’re saying
prayers for you and think fondly of you as you rebuild your lives. Please keep in mind that: you’re not
alone, never; not once.
With kindness;
Gabriel
(Consider my writing a gift in wisdom because
my life story is mine and only mine to give and no other.)
Major Corrections:
Oh, I’m so embarrassed but I’ll get over it.
*) (Correction: from “Bakers Square” as in a
restaurant (which I’ve never been to) to “Baker Center” as in downtown
Minneapolis.) Thank you. (I’m blushing.) Truly.
*) (Correction: from “Bakers Square Caribou”
to the “Oracle Centre Caribou” in downtown Minneapolis.) Thank you. (I’m
blushing.) Truly. I fell in love with the “Oracle Centre Caribou” and their
staff. (Yes, I put myself through many different schools as a barista and well,
I know when another can make a ‘mean’ latte: a great latte.)
*) (Correction: False, if one is
blinking to signal to change lanes then it’s simply and only a courtesy of the
other drivers to give the signaling driver the ‘right-of-way’ to change lanes
and not by law.) Thank you. (I’m blushing.) Truly.
Signaling that you’re moving over a lane
doesn’t give one the right-of-way. Thank you. I’m so embarrassed. (I figured
you guys would put me in my place and thus here I stand, greatly humbled.) Now
I just want to climb under sturdy furniture and hide but I won’t because I’m an
adult woman.
*) One last thought: Oh, Gaza and Tel Aviv.
*) Our troops! Our American troops!!!
November 20, 2012
“Whenever I hear anyone arguing for slavery, I feel a strong
impulse to see it tried on him personally.” - Abraham Lincoln
“Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery, none but ourselves can
free our minds!” - Bob Marley
“For in reason, all government without the consent of the governed
is the very definition of slavery.” - Jonathan Swift
“Being born is like being kidnapped. And then sold into slavery.” - Andy Warhol
“A great fortune is a great slavery.” - Lucius Annaeus Seneca
*) (Yes, correction from “site see” to
“sightsee”. Ha. Ha. Ha.)
*) (Yes, correction from ‘West Indies’ to
‘East Indies’. Ha. Ha. Ha)
Happy Tuesday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Alright.
---
--- ---
*) There’s nothing; like a female reporter
with her tits hanging out.
Her déclassé demeanor tells you everything you need to know about her
pruned vagina which, is, that, her vagina never
gets lucky and this is her reason as to why; she must visually ‘put out’ on
television because she can’t get any in real time.
It also lets the audience know that T.V.
execs can’t get lucky in real time either so like pimps they send their ‘girls’
out to prostitute themselves over the airwaves. Ha! The audiences figured that
out a long time ago. ‘Pimps and hoes.’
Who forgot to give the dumb blond television
male executive idiot his supposedly journalistic / reporters’ memo about his
staff’s dress code? “Bubble!”
Some television women look like whores
because the executives must be whores themselves. No, sex doesn’t sell, not
anymore but do you know what does?
And the ratings are proving it… do your homework.
The People have grown tired of wenches for
television journalists and reporters.
Grown television men and women and their fears
about tits, vaginas and small penises are spilling all over the airwaves. Christ! It shows all over their faces
with ‘cum’ on it. Get the hell on up
off of the floor. The American people don’t like seeing them down on their knees
giving oral sex to the execs in exchange for journalistic / reporting careers.
Your Grandmothers are watching for crying out loud and they get laid far more
than any of you ever will.
-----
*) Yes, I utilize “Nope” as an expression
from the film “Captain America” and…
-----
*) Yes, of course commas and periods
are all placed inside “quotations” at
the end of American sentences. “Period.”
For example: Are you going to “Caribou?” (Correct American
punctuation.)
My deepest apologies; for the “wrong” American punctuation placement
and yes, the Brits taught me (at the age of 10) that I may place a question
mark outside of a “quotation” at the end of a question. “Period.”
For example: Are you going to “Caribou”? (Correct Brit
punctuation.)
I do it simply because I just don’t think
that the American punctuation rules look correct to my eyeball however I’m
quite aware of the importance of such a grammatical American rule. American grammatical
rules and syntax look ‘goofy’ to my eyes therefore, ‘I make it my own’ but it sure doesn’t mean that it’s correct
according to American rules, so careful.
No, don’t follow my lead on grammar,
punctuation or syntax for that matter because I have personal reasons for doing
so and no, I’m not a leader in grammar, punctuation or syntax of any sort.
For example: Are you going to “Caribou”? (The incorrect American
way and it feels so right to me.)
{Ha!
Ha! Ha! It’s the same silly business as with how people say that they only use
10% of their brains to think with but we all know that that hypothesis is
incorrect; humans use 80%, 90% if, not, then all 100% of their brains to think.
Ha! Ha! Ha!} Can you imagine thinking that you only use 10% of one’s brain?
That’s silly? Where’s the logic in that?
-----
*) As a matter of fact I’m not a ‘role model’,
therefore please don’t follow my lead on driving, correct grammar, punctuation,
syntax, literary swearing as a tool, literary vulgarity as a tool and….
-----
*) Let
me get this straight with the Minnesotans: Aloha, guys. True or False
that when a driver is signaling with a blinker to change lanes then they have
the ‘right of way’ and the driver indicating to switch lanes must be given the ‘right
of way’ by other drivers when signaling? (Especially on the freeway.) False.
Now, on a weekly constant basis I’m dealing
with getting “boxed-in” by the Minnesotans on the freeway when needing to exit
from the far left-hand-side lane to the right to make my exit.
It seems as though signals don’t mean
anything in Minnesota. Is that correct? If
that’s so, then I’ll drive like a Bostonian, fast-and-in-control whether you like it or not; and it will
scare you down to your bloomers because well, it’s a “Bostonian thing” and
I’m forcing myself not to drive like a Bostonian in Minnesota; “When in Rome,
do as the Romans do”. Lovely.
Yes, my
deepest apologies for the way I changed lanes today, but if I don’t change lanes quickly and make
my way from the furthest left-hand-side lane to the exit way over on the right then
I’ll completely continue to miss my exit and I don’t like that and neither
would you, day-in-and-day-out, week-after-week, month-after-month that reality
becomes irritating and it makes the Minnesotans seem like ‘goofy’ drivers. Ha!
(Oh, I love you guys so much! I do even though we don’t communicate very well,
much of the time. Ha! You do make me smile.)
So do I get the ‘right of way’ if I’m
signaling with a blinker or do I have to live-with-the-Minnesotans ‘boxing-me-in’
for the rest of my life on the far left-hand-side lane trying to exit on the
right? What do the Minnesotans do when they want to exit from the far left-hand-side
lane and ‘no one’ lets them make their way across the lanes to an exit on the
right? Weird. I don’t get it.
Oh, how I miss rotaries so much!!!
Peace and love to the Minnesotans.
I shan’t drive like the ‘road-raging’ Bostonian
Grandmothers because winter is coming and I’d rather not get into a car
accident amongst the Minnesotans on the freeway however I’m the combination of
a San Jose, Costa Rican driver, Bostonian, New Englander, New Yorker, New
Jersey and Duluth; which, Duluth is the deadliest of all because Duluth drivers
stop and go; stop and go. They “sightsee” and when I drive I don’t want to
“sightsee” I want to drive. I’ll leave the racing for the track; deal squeal?
Deal. Lovely.
*) (Yes, correction from “site see” to
“sightsee”. Ha. Ha. Ha.)
Let’s make it all in one piece.
Here’s to you, guys and your ‘goofy’ driving.
-----
*) Yes, a person from the country of India in
the Eastern Hemisphere is called an “Indian” by American standards.
No, a person of the Americas (Western Hemisphere)
from Indigenous origins “First Peoples”, “Native Americans” and the
“Indigenous” of Mesoamerica aren’t to be called “Indians” by anyone other than by
themselves and each other; because that’s as racist as it gets when speaking
about the “Indigenous” people’s of the Americas. You might as well spit upon
their faces.
Yes, any Indigenous persons of “Native
American” and / or other “Indigenous” origins in the Western Hemisphere may
call themselves “Indians” however other races may not because Columbus ‘coined’
the phrase “Indios” when Christopher Columbus lost track of his compass and
rear end; and ended up in San Salvador Island (district of Bahamas) rather than
the ‘East Indies’ and mistook the Indigenous people’s for Indians near India of
the ‘East Indies’.
*) (Yes, correction from ‘West Indies’ to
‘East Indies’. Ha. Ha. Ha.)
“Indian” is the equivalency of “nigger” and
god-awful, terrible and destructive; so don’t use it unless you want to be
given a look like you’re the devil incarnate. Please.
Why would the Indigenous peoples use such
derogatory language to describe themselves amongst themselves?
Why would African-American people use such
derogatory language to describe themselves amongst themselves?
Why do you think?
Slavery isn’t over for the Indigenous peoples.
The Indigenous are the most disenfranchised humans
disappearing off of the face of the Earth.
The word “Indian” reminds us that we’re still
in bondage and slaves to this new modern world that teaches us that ‘hate
reigns supreme over love’, but since we know that to be a lie, then we, too, can make fun of lies by using Columbus’s
terminology as an “inside joke” that not only is still quite painful but poignant
to the suffering of modern humans yet funny because….
If you’re NOT sure as to what to call someone
of Indigenous origins then directly ask them. They’ll let you know, but first,
one, must humble thyself to ask the question to receive a direct and honest
answer.
The safest bet under your political
correctness hat is: “Indigenous Peoples”. Thank you.
As far as the “Native Americans” / “The First
Peoples” they keep changing their minds about what they wish to be called, but
as far as those of Mesoamerica are concerned it’s “Indigenous” to you and it
has been for centuries. Thank you.
-----
*) Hostess, products; I don’t think that I’ve
ever paid anymore than two, three or four bucks for their products.
Yes, Hostess is an American company (to me)
and if it’s bought by a foreigner then no, I don’t want to eat any of it because
our FDA has a tough-enough time as it is regulating food. Thank you, no.
-----
*) My
deepest apologies; I stand corrected. Strong winds can and will bend metal.
I guessed wrong and now I humble myself to ask for your forgiveness.
Furthermore, that doesn’t make me change my
mind about constructing stages with steel metal beams vs. aluminum trusses made
to hang lights not entire stage floors and roofs.
Careful; the “local villagers” the “village
idiots” build great stages and when, one, is too arrogant for one’s bloomers
then the Gods can send horrible currents of humility one’s way. Cheers! Safety
first and foremost!!! Peace.
-----
*) Oh, the dolphins. I don’t know what to
tell you.
-----
*) Nate Silver; what a cool guy. Any woman
would be lucky to have him for a friend.
-----
*) Susan Rice; there’s no need to be racist
against this leader.
-----
*) The Nature Conservancy of Minnesota;
please stop bothering and harassing my friends at the Brule River. Thank you.
-----
*) Global warming is a fact. Get over it!!!
What about real solutions?
Sincerely,
Gabriel
(I’ve been called “Gabriel” since 1996, deal
with it.) (The only reason as to why I started signing my name as “Gabriela” on
this blog was so that readers wouldn’t mistake me for a man. Ha!)
P.S. Ha! Breathe you mean little monkeys at
“Bohemian Grove”. Yes, I’ve got a friend who keeps sending me owls. Ha! Funny
as heck!
November 19, 2012
“Americans are so enamored of equality that they would rather be
equal in slavery than unequal in freedom. - Alexis de Tocqueville
“Dictatorship naturally arises out of democracy, and the most
aggravated form of tyranny and slavery out of the most extreme liberty.” - Plato
“Freedom means you are unobstructed in living your life as you choose.
Anything less is a form of slavery.” -
Wayne Dyer
“Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price
of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others
may take, but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death!” -
Patrick Henry
Happy Monday Night!
Aloha.
Shall The People take to the Senate floor?
Yes, indeed.
-----
Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.
(I don’t want to but I’ll address the subject
matter.)
Yes, I do believe that there ought to be a law
against retail workers, managers and other workers in other industries forced into
slave wage work on Thanksgiving and Christmas night. I do. Period.
(This, working on Thanksgiving and Christmas
night is a new corporate gluttonous deed as
of the past five years or so.) Shame. I believe that the VP’s and CEO’s of
corporations ought to be working on the floor on Thanksgiving and Christmas night
and early morning if they’re going to force
/ mandate their employees into doing so. “Lead by example.” (The “white man’s”
private education taught me that point.)
Why?
I believe in the freedoms that our ancestors
worked so hard to establish apart from a Monarchy known as corporations; I mean
Britain (wink, wink); (I love the Brits and I love the French, equally. I do.)
Our ancestors, the “Pilgrims” just about died
when they crossed the transatlantic on the Mayflower in search of religious freedoms.
No, the Pilgrims didn’t land on “Plymouth
Rock” because that’s a myth; “the Strangers” came from Plymouth, England however
they landed on Cape Cod, (a little American history for you).
I believe that Thanksgiving is America’s
greatest symbol of freedom along with the American bald eagle (yes, according
to the Maya my ‘spirit animal’ is indeed the bald eagle; I didn’t give it to myself, ha!).
I believe that the institution of ‘God’(s),
family and rest comes before corporate greed, bad corporate leadership and
margins.
I believe that Americans are tired, “fried” as a matter of fact of getting worked
like mules and disappointed in a corporate system that ‘hates their guts’ by
showing them that they’re not really worth much more than their minimum wage
hourly pay in scale.
I believe that corporations have become the
demise of our nation’s integrity; in that
corporations work their employees into the ground as minimum wage slaves and
turn a “blind eye” while they and their ‘unruly’ children sleep in cheaply
built eleven million dollar McMansions while their employees starve to make
ends meet.
I don’t believe that the top earners of any
companies ought to make x percentage amount of dollars in profits more so than
that of the lowest paid earners; otherwise we’re no different than India’s
caste system. Everybody’s important. Everybody.
Yes, I believe that corporations ought to
have daycare on site for their employees then their employees wouldn’t have to
worry about their children all day long as well as a onsite daycares would
build community trust, security and long range corporate profits because their
employees wouldn’t be so worried about their families and they could better
focus on their work, any type of work. I do.
If I were the ‘King of Spain’ then I would indeed lead by example and let The People rest
while they spend their time with
their families, closest friends and neighbors without the worry of having to go
to bed super early or having to eat quickly and then clock into minimum wage
slave work.
To go into work at 10 P.M. the night of
Thanksgiving to open up a store at 12 A.M for Black Friday is indeed wrong and
any corporate head knows it no matter what excuse they may give. Wrong morals
and ethics are wrong no matter how they’re justified away.
Who hates the Americans so much as to force
them into minimum wage slaves? (I can answer that.)
I’m surprised by corporate heads, frankly.
I thought that one of those incredible
individuals would step up and lead with morals, integrity and ethics. I guessed
wrong.
Can you imagine a fat corporate head eating
their Thanksgiving meal around a fat table while their employees have to say ‘goodbye’
and ‘goodnight’ to their families on Thanksgiving night? Vulgar, indeed.
That’s just wrong and I hope that-that Thanksgiving meal
tastes sour in the mouths of any corporate heads; who drive their corporations
more like slave masters than American Christians and American leaders; Why act
like greedy ‘Scrooges’; those three Christmas ghosts are bound to catch up with
greedy corporate heads quickly.
What’s happened to that beautiful American
tapestry? Why are our values, morals and ethics coming unraveled by the very corporate
leaders who must not turn a blind eye to their crew? A boat isn’t rowed to
shore without a crew. Mutiny indeed.
This is what I have to say: Community Action.
(If I had to): I’d work on ‘Black Friday’, but don’t ever ask me to part ways with my
beloved ones on Thanksgiving night because that’s the ‘devil’s work’. Just
because corporate heads have sold their
souls to the devil, it doesn’t mean that their slaves have.
This America of ours has been at war for ten
years and The People have grown tired. Oh, so very tired of corruption,
horrible leadership and greed.
What I have to say to the minimum wage workers and slaves of America is this: to
unite and to ‘show-up’ these horrible corporate bosses for tyrants; if tyrants want
a little competition then show them what The People are made out of. “No”,
means no.
Have corporate tyrants realize what real power means; if
our minimum wage slaves unite and don’t show up on Thanksgiving night then
there’s only one conclusion to be made: the slave master doesn’t reign freely
in America because we’ve overcome slavery and Americans can and will do it
again if we must.
We’re praying for you; our dear fellow American citizens.
We’re working as fast as we can to get back
your life-given freedoms to rest, peace and the pursuit of happiness in this
stupidly inflated economic system that makes the wealthy fat and the poor
strong in their sentiments and voice. Don’t ever forget about the French
Revolution while you give Thanks over your fat meals for your mansions, private
educations and private jets. Please.
The mighty bottom dollar isn’t everything.
People are the bottom line.
The meek shall inherit the Earth.
Yes, we were told by our American consumers
that they couldn’t afford our thirty dollar upload, thus we brought down the
pricing of an upload to $1.99 because frankly we believe in a thriving American
economy but don’t think, that I don’t know, that our films are worth $100.00,
$1,000 per upload.
Since I’m not the ‘King of Spain’ then I’d
rather side with The People because they suffer so.
Much Respect all around from one whispering
opinion; (nothing more and nothing less).
Your humble peasant;
Gabriel
No, no Post Script; although those are my
favorites messages on post cards. Ha!
November 19, 2012
“A tree is known by its fruit; a man by his deeds. A good deed is
never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness
gathers love. - Saint Basil
“When restraint and courtesy are added to strength, the latter
becomes irresistible.” - Mahatma Gandhi
“Don't flatter yourself that friendship authorizes you to say
disagreeable things to your intimates. The nearer you come into relation with a
person, the more necessary do tact and courtesy become. -
Oliver Wendell Holmes
“Courtesy is as much a mark of a gentleman as courage.” - Theodore Roosevelt
P.S. Yes, one can be extremely rude (by
choice), but not unless one knows how to be extremely courteous to one’s fellow
man. Peace.
Happy Monday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Okay. I’m rested. I’d love to dance amongst
the Minnesotans.
---
--- ---
*) Yes, we just got back from the farm as of this
mid-morning (I hid all weekend) and if my hair looked a bit disheveled; well
I’m not a customer service representative; I’m a patron and I was wearing clean
undergarments, socks and clothing for your information.
I can’t seem to tame my wild hair no matter
what expensive or inexpensive products I use. Oh, well. My deepest apologies if
my hair offends you; it offends me, too, and I have to live with this wild
mane. My hair is clean even though it looks a mess. (Sigh.) Ha!
-----
*) Yes, grammatical corrections were made.
My deepest apologies if my ESL blog offends
you.
Truly, misspellings, incorrect grammar and
other literary mistakes, annoy me more so than they do you.
Why; because it’s my own writing and I’m
smarter than most of my grammatical mistakes, yet I can’t seem to get ahead of
this English literary curve.
Ah, I’m so annoyed by my own writing
sometimes.
As though I’m trapped inside a literary
English prison (not that I would literally know what prison is like; I count my
lucky stars). I live as well as I can as an upstanding human who makes mistakes
and takes the law quite seriously even though some laws are stupid.
-----
*) You’re annoyed by my grammatical
imperfections?
How do you think I feel?
Well, so am I! I’m greatly annoyed also.
I feel as though I’m trapped inside a body
that can’t speak at all.
-----
*) Yes, I’m working on cleaning up the
literary vulgarities in my written language because I hate vulgarity; yet I use
it as a literary tool.
Yes, I hate swearing yet I use it as a
literary tool.
Please forgive me. I ask for your forgiveness
yet swearing seems to be a ‘sign of our times’ and…. Swearing needs to run its
course sooner than later. Please. Thank you. (My writing sure is a reflection
of the times we live in but in no way am; I; my writing.)
-----
*) Yes, we headed straight for downtown Minneapolis
when we came back into the city and did some shopping at Oracle Centre “Caribou
Coffee” and Baker Center’s “Visionworks” and we truly had great customer
service experiences. Thank you.
My favorite place in the Midwest is downtown
Minneapolis because it’s the most happening place in ‘town’.
Downtown Minneapolis is indeed a jewel even
though I’ve received two forty-two dollar parking tickets (in the past year) while
shopping in uptown and downtown and parked at two different 15-minute parking
spots. So annoying and expensive. For forty-two dollars I could park for a few
days!!!
-----
*) No, don’t boycott downtown Minneapolis!
Are you crazy?
Downtown is the most refined, fun and
greatest place in all of Minnesota. Hands down.
If you hypothetically
hate downtown Minneapolis then it’s because something’s eating away at the
Minnesotans (minimum wage ($7.25 as of today) and we’re doing everything in our
power to get that changed to $12.50 per hour through our powerful lobbyist
friends); if you’re not having any fun then it can’t possibly be because
downtown doesn’t have plenty to offer; because it most certainly does.
I make it a point (by choice) to go downtown
Minneapolis every single day Monday-through-Friday. Fun! I love it! I love to ‘people
watch’ without being mean or needy about it!
My Dada taught me to ‘people watch’ in New
York City’s Central Park at the age of twelve when we kept our sailboat at Manhattan’s
marina. Aloha, guys!!!
-----
*) What do you mean remove the voice box of
dogs? That’s just cruel. Weirdoes.
-----
*) No, true journalists and reporters
can’t really write how they feel
personally about any subject matter; not
really; they must do their jobs which is to report with as little bias as
possible and objectively; unless one works for entertainment news and then it’s
as good a guess as any, unless, one, is a columnist, then well good luck with
objective reporting because a columnist isn’t a reporter or journalist, is he
now? No.
-----
*) Yes, opening
doors for others is a ‘common courtesy’ and not a “random act of kindness”.
We open doors for others on a daily basis because it’s our responsibility as
mature adults. (My Elders are greatly annoyed with the fact that youngsters
don’t know the differences between ‘common courtesies’ and “random acts of
kindness”. (Sigh.)
A Common Courtesy: saying ‘excuse me’ when bumping or getting
in the way of complete strangers and others.
No, ‘I’m sorry’ is only used for dire
circumstances such as when stepping on another’s feet and then yes, say: “I’m
sorry” because, one, just caused oblivious harm upon another living organism.
A Common Courtesy: saying ‘please’ when asking for anything.
A Common Courtesy: saying ‘thank you’ when another goes out of
their way to do something for another without any expectation.
A Common Courtesy: saying ‘bless you’ after another sneezes.
Wonderful!
A Common Courtesy: opening doors.
A Common Courtesy: throwing away one’s trash in a trash bin or
recycling bin.
A Common Courtesy: be on time (always, unless serious difficulties are taking place.)
A Common Courtesy: chew with one’s mouth closed. Gross. (A
barn animal.)
A Common Courtesy: don’t speak when one is chewing food.
Gross. (A barn animal.)
A Common Courtesy: sneeze or cough into one’s inner elbow.
A Common Courtesy: don’t swear while in person.
A Common Courtesy: don’t text or speak on the phone while in
person with another.
A Common Courtesy: allow for pregnant women, Elders and
children to go first.
A Common Courtesy: wear clean clothes and present oneself as
an honorable human no matter what one’s economic background is.
A Common Courtesy: don’t use slang.
A Common Courtesy: genuinely smile.
A Common Courtesy: trust others.
A Common Courtesy: don’t use others for your benefit. Help
them out.
A Common Courtesy: show genuine interest in others.
A Common Courtesy: yes, be generous with your honest praise.
A Common Courtesy: yes, be friendly and helpful.
-----
*) What
do you like about Thanksgiving? Everything. Ha!
What a nice question at the Oracle Centre “Caribou”.
Thank you for asking it. I loved their blackboard and colored chalk. It was so
wonderful to see such lightheartedness in the world of adults conducting
serious business. My deepest apologies I have large kid-like handwriting. I did
mean to leave room for others. Truly, I did.
The pretty “Caribou” female employee wrote
that she likes being with her family. Here! Here! And she can make a ‘mean’
latte; I mean to translate; A great latte.
-----
*) Yes, the “alleged” gunshot at Target Corp
on late Friday morning was the banging of a hammer on the duct work. Boy; who forgot to hand out that Memorandum,
to their workers and others? Weirdoes. “Bubble!”
-----
*) No, I’m not and I shall not listen to what
the Republicans have to say about Benghazi, Libya. I refuse to speak about
Benghazi. I’m greatly annoyed and no, the Republican Party has nothing to do
with justice, the truth and facts when it comes to getting to the bottom of
Benghazi. I’m sorry but the discrepancies
are too great to ignore. “Follow the money.” He said to me.
-----
*) Yes, we pray for Israel, Palestine and the
rest of the “Mideast”.
-----
*) Yes, we pray for the East Coast and our
family, their friends and neighbors.
-----
*) Yes, calling Indians is racist; “Indians” was a word ‘coined’ by Columbus and
only “Indians” can call themselves “Indians” otherwise, it’s like using the
word “nigger” and well, that’s just god-awful belligerent, hurtful and
destructive!!!
-----
*) No, literally a snake doesn’t eat its own tail; but figuratively (in the
Caucasian language, culture and philosophy) the snake does so in
self-destruction (weird language, culture and meaning; it barely makes any
sense to the “Indians”.) Ha! Ha! Ha!
Don’t forget that the snake is one of the
most powerful and wisest of the “Indians’” Gods just like Jesus Christ is a
powerful deity to the ‘white man’ (I don’t mean any offense; much love to our
Caucasian brothers otherwise I wouldn’t have married one of the loveliest men of
the Caucasian race.) Period.
-----
*) Oh, wow!
Yes, some MSNBC shows put up Plexiglas or
real glass between their cubicles and their newsrooms.
The glass looks wonderful and our Elders can
really hear what hosts and guests are saying. Thank you so very much. It’s so
lovely. Thank you. We’re so grateful to have our Elders included in on the
conversation because then we can speak to them about what’s being reported and
what our Elders think about such subject matters; after your shows. We’re ever so grateful in ways that we can’t express
here on paper. Really it makes a tremendous difference in our lives and in the
lives of our Elders. I shan’t forget such leadership.
*)
There’s more but I’ve got serious responsibilities to meet still yet today.
Cheers!
Ciao.
Arrivederci.
Gabriel
November 16, 2012
We
the People of the United States, in Order
to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility,
provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings
of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this
Constitution for the United States of America.
---
--- ---
Oh, my God! My deepest apologies; I misinterpreted and misunderstood the
information that came across my desk earlier this afternoon. As English as a
Second Language I thought that “lockdown” meant “corporate meetings”, not potential
gun violence.
Why did I think that “lockdown” meant
“serious meetings?”
I thought that “lockdown” meant “serious
meetings” because when I was a teenager I attended a thing called “church
lockdowns” which meant “serious prayers” late into the nights and feet washing;
thus I misinterpreted what “lockdown”
meant today.
I hope everyone’s alright. Oh my! I totally
misunderstood that bit of information. My prayers are with all of the employees
at Target Corp, their families and friends, truly. Peace. Oh, poor little ones!
I don’t believe in any physical violence of any type.
Although gunshots have a distinct pop sound and
smell and evidence is evidence. Careful. As the Costa Ricans say; “Cuidado.”
Careful. Very careful.
Sincerely,
Gabriel
*) No, I’m not a Target employee therefore
I’m not a disgruntled worker of theirs. Yep.
P.S. Yes, safety first. I’m glad everyone’s
safe, of course.
*) I
don’t know, guys.
I don’t know if the employee’s at Target Corp
were ‘faking’ a gunshot in their building? You’d
have to ask them that.
*) I
don’t know guys.
I don’t know if employees at Target Corp created
a “cry wolf” scenario for public sympathy? You’d
have to ask them that.
*) I
don’t know guys.
I don’t know anything having to do with the “alleged”
gunshot at Target Corp.
*) Yes, I was out of the downtown’s perimeter
by 10:42 A.M. this morning and news crossed my desk at 12:38 P.M. I was long
gone and away from downtown by 11:00 A.M. and there’s video surveillance to
justify such evidence.
*) I know this;
First point; when there’s gunshot fire inside a building
the sound creates a reverberating quick POP sound so defining that it leaves,
one’s ears hurting from the ringing. It’s tremendously loud and terrifying when
a gun goes off indoors. It’s like nothing else.
It is indeed serious business; and one
doesn’t mistake the sound of gunshot with duct sounds unless the boiler in the
basement has exploded and then it’s messy and there’s evidence to prove as such.
(Yes, I would know a thing or two about boiler systems; I had to go through professional
training and certification for one of those ‘goofy’ jobs I held in my early twenties.)
No, not only one room would hear a gunshot go
off indoors, an entire floor would hear a gunshot indoors. It’s like nothing
else; unless you’ve witnessed it.
Second point: when there’s a gunshot inside a building then,
one, can smell that unmistakable smell of sulfur in the aftermath of a gunshot;
gun powder smells like nothing else indoors and it doesn’t vacate a precise
immediately, it lingers for a while.
Also gun powder is very difficult to fake.
Third point; it’s federally illegal to call “Fire!” in a
public theatre and that’s all I know.
I have no idea what this alleged single gunshot was all about and if in fact it was only
duct work well, then, employees at Target Corp haven’t ever gone to a gun-range
and fired off a few rounds, that’s for sure. I only hope to god that they
weren’t making it up.
Cheers. I’m just glad that everyone’s safe and
sound. Yes, the employees at Target Corp probably feel a little bit embarrassed
and foolish tonight because public opinion is that... Oh, well. Humility has a
bite, doesn’t it?
Peace. There’s nothing like a good scare to
wake you up to your senses. I’ve had plenty of real scares and none were
imagined; it’s best when you get a scare that doesn’t amount to anything. Thank
goodness for those.
November 16, 2012
We
the People of the United States, in Order
to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility,
provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the
Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish
this Constitution for the United States of America.
“Be peaceful, be courteous, obey the law, respect everyone; but if
someone puts his hand on you, send him to the cemetery.” - Malcolm X
“If we lose love and self respect for each other, this is how we
finally die.” - Maya Angelou
“All successful people men and women are big dreamers. They imagine
what their future could be, ideal in every respect, and then they work every
day toward their distant vision, that goal or purpose.” - Brian Tracy
“Knowledge will give you power, but character respect.” - Bruce Lee
Happy Friday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Thank you, no.
I’m quietly standing in the corner and taking
it all in. It was a horrible week amongst the Minnesotans but it doesn’t mean
that I don’t love them because I love them very much; I’m still here, aren’t I? Yes. I almost left the country
this week but I refuse to abandon the Minnesotans in this cultural dust bowl.
If as an Indian I speak to the Minnesotans in
perfect English then they want to kick my teeth in and if I speak in broken
English then they want to kick my teeth in. I don’t get it. Make up your minds.
Weird little cruel attitudes towards Indians. Why do the Minnesotans hate the
Indians so much? Have you no God to speak of?
---
--- ---
Take it away Mr. Bill Maher. Break a leg!
Good luck.
Cheers!
Gabriel
*) P.S. Every multi-millionaire I know
balances their check books. Ha! Ha! Ha! Isn’t that funny and guess what? They do in fact keep a close
eye on their finances more so than the government does.
*) Yes, the “fiscal cliff” next week.
*) Where’s my gift as a Latina voter?
*) Immigration reformation: Oh my!
*) Nope, step back.
Yes, I was speaking hypothetically / metaphorically when I wrote that I’d love to contract-myself-out as an
innovative problem solving consulting intellectual to the Target Corporation as
a cultural intelligence consultant; (I’m an executive media producer for
goodness sake) however I didn’t mean it literally. I’ve got a lot on my plate
and Target Corporation doesn’t even know that I exist and I’m keeping it that
way, because being a ‘nobody’ has way more advantages than one might consider.
Please.
---
--- ---
*) Thank
you, for informing me: that Target Corporation downtown is on a “lockdown”
today. Thank you. Oh, no! I totally misunderstood that information. Please
accept my apologies.
I wish Target Corp all of the luck in the
world and I can’t wait to shop at the downtown Target store next November 14,
2013 in purchasing Eric’s 50th birthday gift. Wow! That could be so
cool to shop there next year or it might leave me in irritating tears as it did
this week. Who knows? Moving on. Next.
---
--- ---
*) Yes, we live in a surveillance Gestapo
Nation. E-mail has become the property
of the American government; No, I didn’t write the United States of America,
huge distinction.
Yes, surveillance is conducted upon the American
civilians.
No, don’t get all paranoid, if you have
nothing to fear then relax.
Smoke your ‘joints’ (not literally except for Colorado and
Washington) while we’re gathering powerful lobbyists to lift prohibition from
marijuana (in the next year across the United States of America) so that
America’s free market enterprise can make ‘more money than God’ and we can
build schools across America, spread the wealth of health care to every corner
across this nation and get the minimum wage up to $12.50 per hour as I’ve been
saying and writing since 2001 (when I used to make $6.18 per hour in a newsroom
without health care benefits); people used to laugh at me when I used to say
that so I stopped saying it. (Sigh.)
Ignorance sure is annoying and it moves-in upon
progressive measures as slowly as molasses.
Wake up, sleepy heads, our rights are being
taken away and you just snored right through them for the past decade of this
Afghanistan war.
I’d like to vote upon a memorandum about public
surveillance drones and police cameras. Put it to a public vote!
Where have our judges gone? Out to lunch on
this one? Please. Help the American people!!! Please. Who’s bought the American
judges? Hopefully no one because they are the last people to be bought off, they’re
our last civilian hope on this subject matter. We respect you, will you please
respect the American public and our liberties. Please. Anyone?
Put it to a vote; No, don’t
sell it to me that some “Wizard of Oz” (behind the curtain) Emperor doesn’t
run our freedoms because I know perfectly well what took place between the
British and the American war of 1775.
If America truly is a democracy then The
People will get to vote about public surveillance drones and police cameras
dictated and enforced upon the civilian population without their knowledge
which is even worse.
Forget about your rights to corporate organic
produce labeling; If you want to take on a fight that may save the Americans,
well, civilian surveillance drones sure is a philosophical fight worth having
about to keep the freedoms of the Americans free from tyranny. Peace.
My; Weehawken, New Jersey German-Jew
Great-Aunt must be rolling in her grave. Oh, dear Great-Auntie Hanny.
---
--- ---
*) Yes, civilian surveillance drones are used
upon the public and the Americans made it possible because we’re more afraid of
terrorism than we are of executive order, power and dictatorship.
---
--- ---
*) Oh, we love Hostess Twinkies. Can anybody
save those 17,000-20,000 jobs? Please. Isn’t anyone with deep pockets willing
to buy Hostess? No? Oh, alright. I get it;
a difficult investment all around. I’ve heard all about it and the
discrimination of their workers’ concessions. Why didn’t anyone go to bat for
the workers? Weird. We’ve been trying to buy as many Hostess products as
possible for the past six months.
---
--- ---
*) No, I don’t want to talk about Benghazi.
Yes, I’m greatly annoyed. Yes, indeed.
Our intelligence needs about a year or two
(just as with the BP trials did) to figure out what went down.
Frankly, I
don’t know what to think about Benghazi yet I’ve been told not to believe
American corporate mass media and to sit tight, thus I shall. Thank you very
much. I’ll come back to Benghazi in a year or two or maybe never; depending on what information makes its way across my
desk… Ha!
---
--- ---
*) If, one, is a senator, a political leader (of
any type) or has anything to do with elected office as a public servant while
on television then, one, may not, one, can’t and, one, doesn’t hold the liberty
to swear or curse in public as those of us in the entertainment industry can (another
blog for another day).
Why? Why do you think?
An elected public office official’s
responsibility is to his / her constituents and don’t ever forget it. Period.
---
--- ---
*) Yes, Israel and Palestine are dealing with
each other’s terrorism, the media simply won’t call it that, but you can read
between the lines. (I’ll ask around.)
Oh, Palestine. Oh, Israel.
We’ll pray for you because we care about what
happens to Tel Aviv and to Gaza.
The Americans love you both.
We simply can’t fight this ancient holy war of
yours for you. America can’t carry the Mid East’s terrorist problems when our
schools are falling apart and our working poor starve as wage slaves at $7.25
per hour.
---
--- ---
*) Get off your high horses; I like shopping
at Target stores.
---
--- ---
*) Thank
you for informing me: that the young downtown corporate Target employees (walking
around pretending like they’re more, than they really are worth) make a grand
whopping total of about twenty-four-some-thousand-dollars per year.
Now, I get it!
Insecurity is chapping their behinds; young
corporate employees are no different than the customer service personnel in
wage pay and in scale; young corporate employees, too, are “wage slaves”
pretending like they’re going nowhere fast, while they try to forget that
they’re no different than the rest who struggle to make ends meet. Cruel little
bunch!
No wonder they’re told to go to the floor and
inspect the merchandise to get them out of the way of conducting real business;
they probably do get in the way. I’ve got some ideas about that young team, but
they’re not my problem or responsibility.
Oh, how I’d love to consult (hypothetically) as
an intellectual to reroute their corporate leadership problem solving solutions
into tangible outcomes and an inclusive overall corporate culture because I’ve
been watching for five years as their corporate culture veers towards an ice
floe. Titanic. Moving on. I don’t get paid to have anything to do with their
success so there’s no point in thinking about it, although I do have great
ideas because such a corporate culture falters. Pity. Have mercy.
Still that doesn’t explain why these young
people are trying to “fake their way to the top” when they don’t even have the
basics down? What. How queer are they? Quite.
I thought that leadership was about
envisioning a better America not about faking away soiled bloomers.
Oh, that’s why they have those weird smirks
on their faces like they’re The Joker and high on cocaine (even though most probably
aren’t, I don’t think so, anyway); they’re practicing that shallow-dying-off-idiotic-philosophy
of “fake it till you make it”. Gross. Not on The People’s watch you don’t
especially when it comes to serving the general public and the greater good.
---
--- ---
No, I don’t think that a $100.00 suit is
cheap because most Americans can’t even afford to buy clothing nor have they
been able to for about a decade however I do believe that a beautiful $100.00
suit can be made to look cheap by the wearer if the wearer pretends the suit to
be more than it is.
I can’t stand a worn lie upon one’s skin more
so than a spoken one.
A worn lie cheapens everything about one’s
demeanor while a spoken lie cheapens one’s words.
I’ve seen the most beautiful $100.00 suits on
men just don’t cheapen them with a lie of trying to convince the world of
faking one’s way through the world because an animal who, fakes, its way
through life isn’t long for the world.
A faker makes itself a target to be eaten by
the strong. Circle of life.
I like Armani suits just fine but that “trim
fit” on men makes them look more like they’re ready for the 1960’s mafia than
for the corporate world. I like the “Brooks Brothers” suit look.
Sincerely; truly.
Gabriel
P.S. No, I don’t believe in violent
revolutions except for peaceful cultural ones. Thank you.
*) I’ve got a lot of television to catch up
on. I’m going to hide away all weekend. We had an exhausting work week. I still
haven’t watched the last two Presidential debates. People are telling me that I
really ought to and then write about them now that the election is over. Okay.
Maybe.
*) What about tin foil and aliens. What? I
don’t get it.
*) No, I don’t believe in conspiracy theories
but I do love to debate them any chance I get. Why wouldn’t an intellectual
love debating conspiracy theories? It’s intellectual configuration at its
finest. Ciao.
*) Yes, I’ve yet to write about surveillance
cameras, the real estate market and it’s bubbles, Afghani women and violence
against them, American inflation, the market, and fair wages.
November 15, 2012
*) Yes, I do make my own rewrites and that’s
a sign of intelligence to catch one’s own mistakes and correct them. Period.
No, I don’t have a team of editors wiping my forehead… Ha!
*) Arrogance;
you’ve never met me. You have no idea who or what I am. Step back. There’s
nothing more annoying than a man who steps all over a woman’s feet across a
dance floor. Go practice those dance moves in your living rooms.
I’ve got way more on my plate than answering cruel-annoying
e-mails.
In the past year our family has dealt with breast
cancer, we’ve lost friends and family members, yes, we’ve buried our dead; I
deal with discriminatory racism and prejudice on a daily basis and we work very
hard to do our little bit in contributing to this great country’s running like
any other mature American adults do.
Arrogance? I’d love to teach you that
literary lesson.
*) No, I’m not royalty. I’m human. It’s
illegal to be an aristocrat in America. I’m an American not some snot-nosed
hooligan.
*) No, I only hold the power of myself.
I hold no power over anyone else. I don’t.
I’m too intelligent to become delusional
about the fact that I’m one whispering voice in a multitude. What. Do I look
like I have larva coming out of my ears? Please.
*) No, don’t be so insulting; I’m the
bi-product of the ‘white man’s’ private and public educational system, culture
and professional artistic medium.
I was taught that: ‘the higher the pedestal
then the harder the fall.’
I was taught that: ‘everything that goes up
must come down.’
I was taught that: ‘money talks and ‘bullshit’
walks.’
I was taught that: ‘real power can’t be
bought.’
I was taught that: ‘the truth will set us
free.’
I was taught that: ‘facts are facts’
(concrete evidence).
I was taught that: ‘power can break all forms
of mediocre norms.’
I was taught that: ‘threats don’t get anyone
anywhere, but community action does.’
I was taught that: ‘all mathematics adds up.’
I was taught that: ‘it’s not about what you
know it’s about who you know.’ Ha! Okay.
I was taught that: ‘one person can take down
an entire empire.’ Ha!
I was taught that….
You get the point. You taught me that. I was a “peaceful” jungle barrio peasant Indian kid hanging out amongst the canopies
and cruel monkeys and I didn’t even know that the United States of America
existed. Truly. I had no idea that you guys breathed life. I didn’t.
Peace. Truly. Peace. Paz.
What you hate about my writing is that…
Ha! Ha! Ha! Don’t make me laugh that hard. I alone neither will nor can take
down the Target Corporation but “we” all
know people who can. Don’t we now?
Please. To deny yourselves the very power that you boast about is to deny “God
fearing” insight. Don’t look at me like I have hair coming out of my eyeballs
because if I were to reflect back what I see then society would really end up
hating itself to be careless… Ha!
Gabriel
(Whatever. Be mad. I don’t care.) I’m
smiling. I can’t help it. I like to smile.
November 15, 2012
“I believe that my children, who are young, will look back on the
early years of the 21st century in rather the same way I look back on the
middle of the 20th: as a time when seemingly respectable people supported
discrimination against Americans simply because those Americans were different
from themselves.” - Jon Meacham
“It may be shocking to some people in this country to realize that,
without meaning to do so, they hold views in common with Hitler when they
preach discrimination against other religious, racial or economic groups.” -
Henry A. Wallace
“I had to endure the worst time of all in terms of racial
discrimination in Hollywood when I first started out. It was inconcievable to
American directors and producers that a Mexican woman could have a lead role.” -
Selma Hayek
(Hola, Ms. Hayek. No, no se ejecutan en los mismos círculos sociales,
pero sí tenemos algunos de los píos
mismas en común. Se
corre la voz.) (I only personalized this because I love this quote not
because I’ve ever met nor am I trying to meet Ms. Hayek.)
Happy Thursday!
Happy Birthday to Eric!
Aloha.
*) No, I didn’t write to boycott all of the
Target stores; Yes, I wrote to please
join me on a specific boycott of downtown Minneapolis Target store (as
difficult as that may be for some of us) for one complete calendar year
(November 14, 2013) so that downtown Target may get their discriminatory house
in order. Period. Thank you.
I like shopping at most Target stores (no,
not all of them) and more specifically I love to shop downtown Minneapolis more
so than anywhere else in the Midwest.
What’s this: that,
Target Corporation won’t allow for their employees to spend Thanksgiving night
with their families?
That decision is simply wrong and the wayward
corporate leaders know that to be the truth. Gluttony has set into the core of
our cultural fabric. Oh, those seven deadly sins! Ha! Your religion and culture. Mean and cruel “leaders” die off by the
hand of…(not literally). Where have the corporate leaders vanished off to?
Where are their moral and ethical compasses disappeared to?
Small Business Saturday; please support, local and small businesses
because (for the most part) they’re doing something right.
Yesterday I almost called a friend to personally fly me into Logan’s airport
and go shopping at the Coop Harvard Bookstore where I’ve not once been treated “niggardly”.
I almost went running out of Minnesota and I’m afraid that if I would’ve left then I might not have come back forever… Ha!
---
--- ---
*) No, I don’t mean that the security of our Nation
is literally threatened however I do
mean that the very idealism of that security’s breach is indeed threatened in
so far that when any enemy does hear-of or knows about any weaknesses then
well, that could be the demise of a Nation running through its very own fabric even
if the enemy sees our weaknesses as simply perceived misconceptions, because
there’s always a thread of truth in every tapestry. Come on! We’ve all studied
history well enough to know that sometimes misperceptions are ten times more
deadly than the honest to God truth, reality and real time.
I refuse to pretend at anything. If our FBI
is that poorly run as they have shown our Nation to be then I don’t know what
to tell you. Pity.
Athletics and philosophy combined teaches us
to keep our selves healthy or any sign of weaknesses can become our very own
demise yet we must keep strong through kind gestures and authentic solutions.
Study history and you’ll become illuminated at
how quickly and easily empires are taken down. Cheers. I’m on the side of the
Americans and I’ll die fighting a philosophical war towards peace for our dear
Americans.
I’ve fallen in love with many of our freedoms
but not exactly with some rude mothers because it shows in their children’s
behavior and that’s not American; that’s...
*) Yes, absolutely; ideally and hypothetically; I’d give “my” / “our” young
corporate team a year to get their ‘ducks in a row’ with their downtown
Minneapolis corporate Target store in so far as discrimination is concerned; towards
recovering and rebuilding poor (F-) customer service.
No, not cheap solutions that would only last
for about a year, rather long lasting solutions to make this young corporate
team a winning team because as of right now they’ve become complete losers. They
don’t even know that they’ve lost the Championship and walk around pretending
like their soiled pants don’t bother them; walking around pretending like they
haven’t lost the confidence of their customers. Pitiful.
After that year if nothing were to change; then
I’d start firing the whole bloody lot because young, arrogant and rude corporate
discriminatory employees are ‘a dime a dozen’ just as Harvard graduates are ‘a
dime a dozen’ as well and a Harvard professor taught me that. Ha!
Why fire them?
Because the thing that most people don’t
understand about the underpaid downtown Minneapolis corporate Target young employees
is that they’re oblivious jerks while their co-workers are wage-slaves.
Stupid corporate employees; who as long as they’re happy with their
health care benefits then it doesn’t matter if everybody else suffers while most Americans financially struggle.
Pity.
People who walk around the floor like they’re
a spitting image of their ‘white man’s’ devil in the making; their beautiful
$100 dollar suits seem cheap while pretending like they’re wearing Armani;
carrying around red baskets pretending to shop like Gods and coming up with
cute ways to place their merchandise on a warehouse floor; pretending like they
don’t have bigger problems on their hands than how to rearrange their isles;
well, those corporate heads get paid way too little to play patty cake all day
long while their customers count their pennies just to be able to shop there.
Please. Wake up, the world’s passing you by and leaving you in the dust and the
worse aspect of it all is that you’re completely oblivious to it.
Money’s got nothing to do with excellence in corporate leadership.
The dichotomy is a vulgar one and the downtown
Minneapolis corporate Target employees are so clueless about their entire
corporate double standards that that’s one reason, alone for grounds to have
them fired on the spot; but a year will do for them to do their job; otherwise
get the hell out of our progressive and beautiful downtown; which is my
favorite place to shop in the entire of the Midwest. I love downtown
Minneapolis so much!!!
These can’t possibly be the future leaders of
America’s corporate world because they’ll get the ‘Americans of color’ killed
in their stores and look the other way while pretending as though they have
nothing to do with it. Rome was taken down in the same manner.
For the next year let the downtown
Minneapolis corporate employees financially carry that particular Target store
while The People boycott it for one
full calendar year through November 14, 2013. That ought to teach them humility
and grace not arrogance and discrimination.
---
--- ---
*) No, I didn’t mean any offense by writing
the following; “Lesbian Butch Dyke”. I only meant it as a description of one
particular human and my lesbian friends have told me that it’s okay to use such
a description.
Some of my closest and longest friends are
lesbians from private school.
Yes, women who’ve moved from Boston to
Minneapolis to write psychological doctorate dissertations and who with Smith masters
degrees could’ve made more of a financial killing in Boston but no instead
they’re here and greatly contributing to Minneapolis Minnesota. I love them so
very much.
Much Respect; Truly.
Gabriel
November 14, 2012
“And each of us can practice rights ourselves, treating each other
without discrimination, respecting each other's dignity and rights.” -
Carol Bellamy
“For as long as the power of America's diversity is diminished by
acts of discrimination and violence against people just because they are black,
Hispanic, Asian, Jewish, Muslim or gay, we still must overcome.” - Ron
Kind
“I say to you quite frankly that the time for racial discrimination
is over. - Jimmy carter
“Racism, xenophobia and unfair discrimination have spawned
slavery, when human beings have bought and sold and owned and branded fellow
human beings as if they were so many beasts of burden.” - Desmond Tutu
Happy Wednesday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? No. Absolutely not! Not today.
I don’t like to dance (not very often) amongst
the Minnesotans. They’re a deadly discriminatory racist bunch and they can get ‘people
of color’ killed while out in public.
I’ll dance amongst the Texans any day but not
amongst the Minnesotans. I’m not a fool. I’ve got a lot of animosity against
the Minnesotans today. I better stay indoors and hide.
What’s eating away at the Minnesotans?
---
--- ---
“A Literary Scalping”:
(How about
a little prose poetry for you?)
At 11:42 A.M. today I stepped through
the annoying and dirty revolving glass doors of the downtown Minneapolis Target
store and immediately I felt watched by their security (live) camera personnel.
(Like hell if I don’t know how security camera rooms work, please. I’ve helped
design, install and laid out a few security camera rooms in my lifetime.)
Before going into the horribly laid out warehouse
I made it my priority to place my long winter coat and leather gloves into the
trunk of my car just so that I didn’t have to deal with anyone so much as thinking
that I could possibly stuff my pockets full of any of Target’s cheaply made and
overpriced products and merchandise.
I purposely went into the store without a
coat even though I felt a bit chilled and it made me annoyed to have to think
about taking such precautions because I know all, too, well about racial
profiling.
As soon as I stepped through the revolving
doors I made the mistake of checking my pockets to secure my car keys, cell
phone, I.D. and cash. They were all there. I guess that-that, type of a gesture
alone made me out to be a ‘suspicious person’ to the security camera personnel.
I made my
way straight to the DVD isle (at a rapid Bostonian pace) directly to find and
hopefully purchase a specific DVD compilation of “The Dick Van Dyke Show” for a
birthday gift.
I read
as quickly as possible through every single shelf of DVD’s and no go.
I guess
that being a fast reader makes one a ‘suspicious person’ at a cheap store. What
do you think? That I don’t know the difference between overpriced cheap items and
expensive merchandise? I don’t think so. Please.
I knew for a fact that the DVD I was looking
for wasn’t on any of the shelves in the entire DVD section.
I turned a corner towards a main isle and
there stood a Caucasian female plump hen in a cop uniform, dressed in short
white hair portrayed as a “lesbian butch dyke” police officer with a loud
walkie-talkie and the walkie-talkie said to her; “A suspicious person”. I
glanced over my right shoulder and realized that I was being racially profiled
and that I was the damn suspicious person.
I turned to face another shelf and I stood
two feet away from the female police officer. I allowed for my demeanor to grow
more docile (wolves have taught me that) to signify through physical semiotics
to the female cop that I wasn’t a threat and that I was truly in search of
something specific because I was.
I almost
looked right over at her and addressed her directly by saying, ‘may I help you?’
I didn’t dare address her.
She held a type of smell and demeanor about
her that said; ‘bitter’. I could smell her from two feet away and I wasn’t even
taking in a deep breath as a matter of fact I held my breath as much as
possible.
What are my tax dollars going towards?
Discrimination! I don’t think so.
The female cop was more suspicious and
dangerous than I ever could be with her abuse
of power and lack of psychological animal intelligence in body language. She
was ignorant about body language because she was on high alert about
everything. How exhausting for her.
Her demeanor told me everything I needed to know about her and some; if I’d given her the slightest reason to
beat me with a baton then she would’ve; therefore, I stepped lightly like an
Indian and thought; ‘if I give her any reason to justify violence then she’ll
beat me into a bloody pulp and get away with it.’
I was an innocent rabbit being hunted down in
the forest by a rabid dog and it was serious business because her $30,000 salary
per year made her mean and cruel.
She pretended to step away from me but not
really. You know what that feels like
when someone’s doing surveillance on you for no good reason. Yes, when I worked
alongside the FBI they taught me a thing or two about surveillance. Ha!
I calmly walked over to the electronics counter
and patiently waited in line as others made their purchases.
While I stood waiting in line a Caucasian
male in his late fifties dressed in white hair (a manager type for that section
of the store in a navy blue sweater and tan khaki pants) walked about half a
foot away from me while snapping a pen in his right hand; just as he crossed my
path he inhaled in a huge whiff of me. I got so turned off to the bone that all
I could think of was ‘pedophile’. The ‘pedophile’ completely dehumanized me and
probably thought that I wouldn’t notice what he was doing. Please. If you want
a whiff of my vagina then just ask.
I should’ve of turned around on my heels and
ran for the exit but I wouldn’t give the bastards the satisfaction of profiling
me as a thief therefore I stood my ground because my friends can put them out
of business today. All it takes is one phone call to multi-billionaires in...
Almost every power hungry animal in that concrete
jungle was ready to commit harm against others and that tells anyone everything they need to know about the
lack of leadership at the very top of the food chain.
“Do you have a question?” a respectful Caucasian
man in his mid-thirties behind the counter asked while he was ringing up
another customer on the other side of the counter. “When you have a moment I’ll
ask you a question.” He acknowledged my patience and turned back to the cash
register.
Another respectful Caucasian male employ in
his thirties turned directly towards me, looked at me straight in the eye,
without eating out my soul (like the women at the ‘Wedge’ perfume counter take
a liberty of doing) and without any discrimination in his face or in his voice
he asked “How can I help you?” Yes!!!
I was overjoyed to interact with one of the
most sincere and safest of animals in that jungle. He was real, helpful and had
no ego trips to administer. Thank you. I finally breathed for the first time
since I had entered the store for about fifteen minutes.
I looked directly at him straight in the eye and
in my most perfect English, that, which I could muster I asked him if he knew
where I might be able to find the compilation of “The Dick Van Dyke Show”.
He, lead, (like any Alpha) the way back into
the DVD isles and I was ever so grateful to have him as a buffer against the
entire discriminatory system he works for.
He is truly a leader in his industry and one
who understands diversity.
He could own any Target store or chain of
stores, hands down, and lead it into a whole new direction forward towards
progressiveness. He’s the type of man that ought to be working at the White
House or at the Pentagon, frankly.
He was truly a gentleman and I immediately
fell in love with his Grandmother whoever she may be; she did well by him.
Thank you. I shan’t forget his face for as long as I live.
Another employ in a wheel chair; (who, on-and-off
for about five years has helped me out); he wheeled himself into the DVD isle
and spoke to me like a human (he was a great teacher and held a wonderful sense
of humor). Thank you!!!
The man in the wheel chair didn’t treat me
like a criminal and he was ever so helpful trying to help me and his co-worker find
the DVD compilation.
The two male employees couldn’t find a single
copy of the DVD either.
I was relieved to find out that I wasn’t the
only one who couldn’t find the DVD in their confusingly and distractingly recently
changed and laid out DVD isles.
We said our pleasantries to one another and I
thanked them both from the bottom of my
heart for helping me out in trying to find what I went there to look for. Thank
you for being humane.
I left the isle as abruptly as a Blue-Blooded
Bostonian with more money than the ‘white man’s’ God.
I made my way around a most inconvenient set
of escalators in the middle of the floor plan.
I walked pass cleanly and well maintained
baby product isles on my right as I walked directly straight ahead towards the
front of the store on Nicolette Avenue with the escalator on my left hand side and
lo and behold; there, straight ahead
of me stood the intimidating female cop whose entire reality of life has become
darkened by petty thievery; she stood between the two shelves of action figures
behind her and faced forward on the main floor straight at me as though I were
a registered felon. As if.
I couldn’t help but give her a goofy sheepish
smile and look at her directly in the eye because she truly had weird energy
full of animosity running through her body and held bizarre Caucasian concepts
about the Universe on her lapel as though she’d been left behind in the Stone
Age about modern diversity.
Our Minneapolis cops need more diversity
training.
She had more to lose than I did if she so
much as touched me (that’s a fact).
I stepped onto the escalator and rode up the
stairs.
At the top of the escalators I veered right; to
an island full of cheaply made jewelry on the second floor and quite politely
asked a standoffish African-American woman with ‘a chip on her shoulder’ in her
mid-forties who looked crusty from rolling out bed too late that morning; “Excuse
me, I don’t have your store memorized; where can I find your card isle?”
The woman looked away from her paper work and
said
“The what!”
‘Oh, no!’ I thought; ‘She thinks I’m her
child.’
How wrong she was.
I thought she was going to chop my head off;
she heard me just fine; she was just another bitch with a bad attitude. She,
too, was on an ego trip to step right over others on her way to nowhere fast.
She looked me over like I was a piece of trash
scum right off the sidewalk and I wanted to tell her every truth that I gathered
from looking at her but instead I held my tongue back because I held all of the power in the Universes
to break her soul and fragile feeble ego; therefore I chose not to do so because that’s real power;
real power isn’t having to go around dehumanizing others for the sheer
emptiness of doing so just because one may be empty and unfulfilled by one’s life;
empty vessels everywhere. Pitiful.
“Your card isle; where is it?” I asked
without mocking her.
Really what I wanted to do was to spell out
C-A-R-D I-S-L-E letter-by-letter because in her eye she held a dangerous look
like she wanted to mock the hell out of my perfect English and I knew for a
fact that she couldn’t even spell her name correctly with her GED. Please.
She gave me curt directions.
I looked up; lo and behold there was the
bully “lesbian butch dyke” cop fulfilling some weird role of female femininity;
following me around like she was going to catch me at stealing something. As if.
I wanted to burst into complete laughter but
I held it back and went directly to the card isle, picked out a card, bought it
and got the hell on out of that miserable hell hole known as downtown
Minneapolis Target store. Whew!!!
When I left the store I got on the horn with
two people with power and they knew immediately what had happened.
--- --- ---
Now, I’m going to boycott the Minneapolis
downtown Target store for one complete calendar year.
See you on November 14, 2013.
Yes, indeed. That shouldn’t be too difficult.
I boycotted the downtown Farmer’s Market this
entire warm season (it’s been one entire calendar year) for having one horrible
interaction with a Quaker woman who overprices her organic produce out of pride
for the sheer fact that she acts as though she’s better than everybody else.
She’s no different than any other lowlife prejudiced, racist, bigot and full of
hot air. She was so rude, I should’ve…
I’ve caught wind of the fact that many people
from many different races across the Twin-Cities Metro Area hate the downtown
Minneapolis Target store because unless; one, is wearing a $100.00 suit and
pretending like it’s Ralph Lauren then forget great customer service, be very
well prepared to be incriminated without a proper trial.
The young corporate Target heads walking
around in their suits and attires acting as if they’re better than everybody
else while pissing away corporate dollars pretending like they don’t know that
their store stink just because they don’t get discriminated against by their
security doesn’t make their attitudes correct.
While everybody
else is made-out-to-be criminals and treated like dogs the moment they step
through those sticky glass revolving doors. As
if.
After a year if nothing were to improve then I’d
fire the whole bloody lot for supposedly
being smarter yet acting out far more belligerently than the jewelry counter woman
with a GED and a chip on her shoulder,
simply because they all ought to know better than that; although I would’ve fired
the African-American female on the spot. No, employ of mine would ever speak to
a customer in the way in which I was spoken to yesterday. Oh, my. I would be
beside myself.
Well, well, well. The cat’s out of the bag now
and I was made aware of this racial discrimination about four years ago. Yes,
customers are all correct in hating the downtown Minneapolis Target store due
to Target’s patron hatred of those particular general racial demographics of Minneapolis.
Please join me on the boycott of the downtown
Minneapolis Target store for one entire complete calendar year; see you on
November 14, 2013.
No, don’t boycott all of the other Target stores only the downtown
Minneapolis Target store.
I expect better from the Minnesotans because
the finest man that I’ve ever met was my Two-Harbors farming, Duluth, Minnesota
100% Finn successful entrepreneurial Grandfather who put many people (who
weren’t his blood family) through medical school.
Eat it!!!
The discrimination is heaviest especially if
you’re ‘a person of color’ who feels like you’re made-to-be a criminal without
a proper trial; the moment you step through those revolving doors.
There’s no need to place your hard earned
cash on counters where many of the customer service personnel want to give you
a beating for existing and then take your money for making you feel like trash
then that’s not right.
It’s not good enough.
It won’t do.
It can’t do.
Get it out here.
It’s a challenge to the Downtown Minneapolis
Target store to get their ‘ducks in a row’ because the patrons shouldn’t be
made to suffer discrimination, hatred, racism, gender biases and harassment
just because a caste system thrives there.
This isn’t India; this is America!
Peace, (like you even know what that means).
Please.
Gabriel
P.S. Discriminatory Minnesotans can go to
hell today!
*) The “Food and Drug Administration” (FDA)
is a complete joke. We all know it.
The FDA doesn’t work for the American government and its constituents; the FDA
works for large corporations because it neither has a backbone nor a hind leg to
stand upon. Ha!
---
--- ---
*) I’d rather drink a complete can of soda than
Coca Cola’s product of “Vitamin Water”.
About a decade ago a pushy and bossy woman introduced
me to “Vitamin Water” (a Coca Cola product) and I immediately gained 10 pounds
from drinking such an atrociously disguised product dressed in pretty colors but
nothing much else and within about a week period I thought I was having a heart
attack. Oh, my god! That’s not water that’s soda.
I love drinking Coca Cola soda products (in
moderation) but companies have got to take responsibility and label their
bloody products and list all of their ingredients correctly (because our
Americans have indeed become obese); If a product is ‘sugar water’ then state that because my favorite
thing in the entire world is sugar-cane water-juice; even though sugar-cane
water-juice is indeed very bad for one’s teeth over a long period of time like
anything sweet can be bad for one’s teeth, yet I do like it, anyway, and I’ll go
‘find it in the bush’ as a treat from time-to-time.
---
--- ---
*) The FBI; Now, all I know is that I know absolutely nothing.
I’ve been informed that the FBI (Federal Bureau
of Investigation) is in deep hot water.
First, if
I were the ‘King of Spain’ and any member of the FBI team had taken down a
four-star General / former Director of the CIA through-and-by the means of an
extramarital affair scandal gone wrong and quite public then I’m here to tell you that I would’ve
fired any agent involved in the scandal to publically assault and humiliate a
highly regarded and accomplished four-star General who hasn’t done anything
technically criminally illegal. His extramarital affairs are between his wife,
his women and his God.
Back it up, boys because if I were the head of the FBI then you wouldn’t have jobs this morning for
serious breach of protocol. We take care of our own and we don’t chop
other’s careers at the knees unless they place us in danger....
I
would’ve told any employee to ‘get the hell out of my office and stop wasting
precious tax dollars’ (not literally) (I’m too shy to tell people to go to
hell). Thank you very much. Period. We don’t have time for that type of
incompetence. I would’ve fired those particular FBI agents and hired Mr.
Wikileaks and his team in their stead. Moving on. Next.
All I can think of is this: If the FBI is indeed the Bureau of
Investigation then why aren’t they doing their job like investigating murders,
rapes and high profiled crime not who’s playing 'hanky-panky' with a four-star
General / former Director of the CIA No, his extramarital affairs didn’t have
to become public by any means.
Let’s make it quite clear that the ‘Kelley woman’ (whatever her name is) wasn’t a close
personal friend of any FBI agent. She had met an FBI agent at a civilian
conference and “talked him up afterwards”. I didn’t realize that the FBI went
out of their way to do civilians personal favors especially when they ‘were’
socialites. Please.
(If
a socialite gets herself into trouble and involved in a public scandal then
they lose their title; just as if; for
example; Miss America were to be caught giving oral sex to ‘Donald Trump’
in the back of some stretch limo then she, too, would lose her title.) As an
example, of course.
I’d clean house at the FBI when it comes to this particular matter.
Why? Because the FBI dropped the ball
hardcore and they know it.
Why? Because the FBI just placed their
civilians and our country’s ‘idealistic’ philosophical security at large at
peril with General David Petraeus's extramarital scandal. What. Isn’t the FBI
the pros at keeping a tight lid on confidential material? Please.
Who’s running the FBI? (Don’t answer that;
it’s rhetorical.)
Yes, the ‘church ladies’ could do a better
job at running the FBI than as it were.
Yes, I would’ve fired people and you do know ‘that that’s the right thing
to do’ for creating such a public scandal and chaos amongst our over-sexed and
over-hyped mass media and amongst the innocent civilians and citizens who
struggle to make it in this economy. What the heck was the FBI thinking? Oh,
they weren’t. I get it.
Who wants to deal with FBI agents who are
easily manipulated and lead by their dicks instead of by their intelligence?
Nobody; because women have been known to bring down
empires and that’s the truth.
We can’t have that type of lowlife mediocrity
upon us; I didn’t realize that socialites ran the FBI and the CIA. What the heck’s this country coming to? Patty
Cake? Yes.
Wake up because the security of our Nation is
neither some reality T.V. show nor a badly acted soap opera.
I hate to be the one to say this, but in general, the public doesn’t give a
crap who’s sleeping with whom, who’s 'playing footsie' and who’s playing extramarital
‘hanky-panky’ with socialites and biographer manipulative women types in search
of power rather than American contributions.
Wow, two-shallow-power hungry female idiots
took down General David Petraeus and the FBI? Boys! What gives? Incompetence
all around.
That tells, one, everything, one, needs to know about the state of our modern
intelligence.
I thought that… it doesn’t matter.
To hell with the mediocrity of how our country is run and its lack
of... Put your pants back on boys because we can see your baby-blue underpants
showing. Please.
Zip it up, buddies.
I’m convinced that there aren’t any more role
models left in the world today even if people are public figures it doesn’t
mean squat.
---
--- ---
*) Yes, I’m quite aware at how racist this America
of ours is and how much our government, our people and any corporate industry
hates “Native Indians”.
I’m all, too, aware of the racism and have
been for over two decades.
Yes, now that’s truly heartbreaking; the rest
is simply just a headache and annoying.
Why does America hate its “Native Indians” so
much?
Is it because America owes so much to the “Native
Indians?” Please.
Like I don’t know the many histories of the
many tribes? Please.
What have you done America?
Have you no heart for your “Native Indian”
brothers and sisters?
Oh, how mean-spirited corporate culture is to
our “Native Indian” sisters.
Does corporate culture not understand that
our “Native Indian” sisters get raped and murdered by their “Native Indian” men
because 'First Brother' can’t decipher the lie of commercialism from the
reality of representation in storytelling?
Commercialism and its narrative does indeed
confuse Indigenous Peoples, everywhere
and thus they buy into the brutality of the narrative rather than into the
shallowness of the commercialism.
Yes, as of now you owe me twenty million; not
only did I just give you the answer and the question to a dissertation but I
also gave you gold in terms of understanding something that you can’t even
begin to make ‘heads or tails’ out of. Please.
Like I don’t know that you have no clue what
comes out of your commercial snot. Please. Commercialism isn’t art, by any
stretch of the imagination, its mierda disguised as public relations. Ha! Ha!
Ha!
---
--- ---
*) Yes, I wrote that I’ve dated Harvard men
however I didn’t write that I slept with them. Ha!
*) Yes, Monsanto is evil and I only know that because
America’s farmers tell me so.
*) Yes, Eric and I are both a little bit like
“Rob” and “Laura” in “The Dick Van Dyke Show”.
*) Yes, as of yesterday we started using
“Start Page” instead of “Google” because I hate “Big Brother’s Watching”.
Actually “Start Page” is quite cool and efficient. No, don’t get me wrong our
family got on board with “Google” from the ground. Aloha.
*) Yes, California’s food labeling ought to
be made mandatory by law. Period.
*) Yes, we’re keeping an Eagle’s eye on the
East Coast.
*) Correction;
I’m stronger than I look even if I become quite vulgar (in literary terms)
across the page, only to teach the world about the headache of stupidity, ignorance and belligerent arrogance
mixed in with mediocrity. (Sigh.) No, I’m neither ‘Snoopy’ nor ‘Charlie Brown’
over here. Ha! Ha! Ha!
No, I don’t get “heartache” very often; I only use it as an expression but what
I do more so precisely mean to say is “headache” more so than “heartache”.
Chuck it up to ESL. Ha!
You can’t break my heart unless I let you and
like heck if that’s going to happen.
Yes, I did weep in the car today by the time
I hit the parkway, out of frustration with discrimination but that rarely
happens. I should cry more often but I don’t. Today I was annoyed in ways that
I can’t explain and no, I wasn’t “heartbroken” about the discrimination. I was
profusely irritated.
November 13, 2012
“If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair.
We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be
cynical. Well, that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and
build your wings on the way down.” - Ray Bradbury
Happy Tuesday!
Aloha.
(I’m back on the right track with the
calendar date once more. Thank you.)
Shall we dance? Yes.
Shall we spar? Yes.
Okay. Do you know how to Tango? No?
Okay. Do you know how to Fence? No?
Alright but I’m not a very good teacher.
As a matter of fact I’m a most horrible
teacher.
---
--- ---
Why can’t the Republican Party get real about
the modern world?
Why is the Republican Party alright with
being left in the dust by the rest of the world?
Why is the Republican Party ‘coo-coo for ‘Coco
Puffs’?
Why did the Republican Party allow for the
party to get hi-jacked by lunacy?
Yes, ‘Creationism’ is a complete lie when it
comes to science. (Keep them separated.)
No wonder the world’s leaving America in the dust
when it comes to the sciences, mathematics and innovation. Please.
{No, I
don’t have the answers to most of the questions I ask otherwise it would be
manipulative and a complete waste of time to take up time from others when people
are quite busy and time is so valuable to everyone.} What do I look like?
The Joker? I don’t think so.
Yes, I hate to tell you this: but I do indeed believe in the American
dollar. (Later.)
Yes, I do believe in the American seashell
currency of cash. Ha!
Yes, I do believe in sufficiently-large
federal government however I don’t believe in archaic power-hungry bureaucratic
tactics to slow down any process towards progress. Period.
Sincerely,
Gabriel… (…To you. Whatever.)
P.S. Yes, I’ve been informed by M.D. and
Ph.D. psychologists and psychiatrists that every
human is indeed considered “crazy” but
not every human is clinically
diagnosed “Mentally Insane” or “Mentally Ill”. (Major Differences.)
Do you understand the difference? (Well, then
look it up. Don’t be so lazy.)
No, I’m not declared “mentally insane” or
“mentally ill”. Period.
Yes, I’m “crazy” as in: I like to make the bed at the earliest
moment possible, have clean dishes and a clean change of clothes before I start
my work day or I can’t think straight with clutter around me.
I hate it when my personal space becomes
‘pack-rat’ (which is hardly ever). I can’t stand working like that. I need
organization and cleanliness. As a matter of fact I require it to conduct
business and create well. I don’t care,
I do take out the trash myself because that’s what great leaders do; leaders,
they’re not above keeping a space clean and ready for development, progress and
success.
Furthermore, I’ve been informed that any
individual who declares that they’re not “crazy” are the craziest of the bunch.
Ha! That’s real funny. (I’ve met
ridiculously misbehaved Minnesotan Caucasian closeted-homosexual men (in the
past 17 years) who hate women with a passion and they sure are a little bit
more than crazy, they’re…)
---
--- ---
*) Well,
the way I see it; is this: If a four-star General such as Mr. Petraeus allows for “his women” / “his female
friends” to be so much as considered a significant part of his former CIA team
then what’s the big deal about Mr. Wikileaks?
Hypothetically, if I were to become an official socialite then may I, too, become privy to CIA classified
information? Wonderful. That’s easy enough with my background (tongue in
cheek).
I mean, really. Seriously.
If female socialites and biographers can make their way into CIA
classified information by charming their way in then why can’t Mr. Wikileaks be
left alone to do his own research and bestow it upon the world?
It’s a double standard, isn’t it? Yes. What a stupid public
scandal. You know what that’s all about don’t you? (Rhetorically asking.) I’m sure you do.
To allow for Mr. Wikileaks who is far more brilliant than these two women put together who
got caught playing e-mail “footsie” with a four-star General can only mean that this is a gender
double standard. Yes? Yes. Breach of information is breach of information.
(Sigh.)
Mr. Wikileaks has proven to be intelligent by going public to
the world about his contemporary brilliant research and no matter how much the
American government may hate what he’s done, it’s no different than allowing
for two unqualified women to get their hands on classified material (per say) and
make their social way into the CIA. Shameful. Pitiful. I’ve been informed that
our American intelligence is in the toilet. I can see why.
---
--- ---
*) Yes, I’ve got two more years to make up my
mind whether I’d like to apply for the FBI. I don’t think so. The thought sure
is fun to consider. I’ve already researched it. I have until age 37. Don’t hold
your breath.
---
--- ---
*) No, I don’t need your personal pity, scorn
or weirdness. Please.
I’m a strong individual and I’ve handled what
the Gods have dished out thus far. I turned out quite beautiful not because I look beautiful but because I feel that
my soul turned out beautiful. Period.
Correction; I’m stronger than I look even if
I become quite vulgar (in literary terms) across the page, only to teach the
world about the headache of
stupidity, ignorance and belligerent arrogance mixed in with mediocrity.
(Sigh.) No, I’m neither ‘Snoopy’ nor ‘Charlie Brown’ over here. Ha! Ha! Ha!
Yes, I’ve lost two fortunes all by the age of
32. Ha! Ha! Ha! Both got stolen by the same people. Now that’s hilarious! Once,
one, finds out that, one, had something stolen from one (even if, one, never
knew that, one, had it to begin with) then, one, knows that, one, can have it
again because one becomes that much wiser. Fun!
---
--- ---
*) Fiscal
Cliff: Oh, don’t make me laugh that hard. That’s a good little bit of mass media
hyped up propaganda.
Sometime, please study Finland’s education,
government and social medical healthcare system, especially with the nation’s
choice towards higher tax increases; then the progressiveness of their children’s
futures are complete without complaint.
Yes, higher taxes are a sacrifice worth
making.
Yes, I believe in what Finland’s government
is doing for their small nation because the choices they’ve made have led them
into a most magnificent cultural revolution of change, innovation and
intelligence. I’m so proud of Finland!
Yes, in America’s 1950’s; the top 1%; paid
90% in taxes. It’s been done before. Why can’t it be done again? There’s no
reason why it can’t be done other than oligarchy politics (and we know what
that’s all about). Has America been completely bought off? We don’t think so.
Not completely. Where there’s a shaft of light then there’s hope for the middle
income earner orchards.
Yes, I do believe that raising even 1% of
taxes on the “middle income earners” would benefit the entire country, because
our American schools are falling over (literally). Our American schools are
falling apart with every single imaginable aspect of that, which, happens to
building codes 60 years or older (gross). (I know, I know). I’ve been harking
about this for over 15 years. No, one cares. I know. I’m aware.
No, I’m not a martyr: I’m all too aware that I’m one little voice;
so my whisper doesn’t carry very far and I don’t pretend like I exist to the
world, but I’m extremely passionate to shed light upon our broken down
educational system and if “Leave No Child Behind” hadn’t kicked-in our
educational system’s teeth then maybe we’d be doing better as a whole but for
the last decade (or so) American education got taken down the “rabbit hole” and
it seems that every one in public education was forced to drink the spiked Kool-Aid.
Pity.
Don’t buy into such crap as “Leave No Child
Behind”, because no matter how polished a turd may be it’s still a polished
turd.
---
--- ---
*) Literally; please don’t kick any man in
the groin or on the buttocks (gross.)
Violence doesn’t make a lady.
If one is angry or upset than take a deep
breath, relax and think calmly rather than violently. Yes, I write as I do,
however, you won’t catch me physically kicking a man in the groin area unless
it’s in self-defense otherwise, I’d be beside myself to do so as and for political
entertainment.
---
--- ---
*) Eric’s a great man. Yes, indeed. Not only because
I say so, but because hundreds of other people say so as well. Period.
Yes, Eric’s the complete love of my life and
he tells me that I’m his and so I believe him.
I respect Eric and he; I.
No, we’re not having marital problems,
however we do disagree and not often but when we do, holy cow, clear the room.
We have great affection and passion for one another. Yes, Eric is a Scorpio and
I, a Taurus. Great!
Yes, we’re deeply and romantically in love
and committed to each other no matter what Caucasian closeted homosexuals may
have said or consider our incredibly tremendous marriage to be.
No, Eric’s not disrespectful to me (not
ever); so when he’s gotten sucked into some idiotic oversexed melodrama with
strange women behind service counters who do and have come onto him, sexually
(which has happened, only, three times, in the past six years and it’s all
taken place since we moved to Robbinsdale (2.5 months ago); it must be a
suburban cultural ordeal). Pity. The mediocrity.
As much as uptown is dangerous to an
Indigenous racial wellbeing, I do miss it there because if I were to write
about suburban women then I’d chop thee at the knees.
Many suburban customer service women are like
wet vaginas behind counters. Pity. I expected so much more beauty from the
suburbs.
The
other exception was with one plump Jewish hen who, lived above us in our former
flat and needed computer help all of the time. The-one-fat-hen was so
disrespectful in the way in which she’d come onto Eric in front of me (like hell if I don’t know what a woman looks
like when she’s a wet vagina all over the entry of our doorway to our flat
asking to borrow a cup of sugar; please); by the way she manipulated men I
wouldn’t be surprised if she were ever found guilty or suspect of…)
---
--- ---
*) Now, look here; you! (Wink, wink.)
A man may debate any woman (all he wants) and
not apologize for agreeing to
disagree with her idiotic viewpoints and stupidity if they truly are that;
however if a man makes it personal and tells her that her dress is ugly and he
goes so far as to point that out; then he must apologize for getting personal,
but debate is open to intellectuals and if one can’t hack it then get out of
the kitchen.
I want to be able to have the freedom in
debate to tell a man that his viewpoints are indeed stupid and counteract his
points in any way possible to make that clear to him and others, however, for
example; if I were ever to tell him that his tie is too colorful or some such, then I must apologize for getting personal
nevertheless if his arguments are indeed atrocious then I want to
intellectually go to battle and win without having to treat him with kid gloves
as though his fragile ego might shatter because there may be four other women
around a table that won’t stand for his viewpoints either. Understand. Yes?
Yes.
I like to watch a man who can hold his own in
debate just as much as I like to watch a woman who can hold her own in debate
without having to be cuddled and act like a martyr just because her viewpoints
are not to be agreed upon; now that’s respect; to really let someone know when
they’re out of bounds. (Eat it. Just kidding, a little bit. You know that I’m
not being mean, only trying to teach something of value to the culture at
large.) Peace.
---
--- ---
*) Secede? Ha! Texas, Union. Please. Does
Texas desire to be eaten alive by the Mexican drug cartel? Wow. Ridiculous.
November 12, 2012
“Hatred is gained as much by good works as by evil.” - Noccolo Machiavelli
“When you disarm the people, you commence to offend them and show
that you distrust them either through cowardice or lack of confidence, and both
of these opinions generate hatred.” -
Noccolo Machiavelli
“All the war-propaganda, all the screaming and lies and hatred,
comes invariably from people who are not fighting.” - George Orwell
“I don't believe
in fate or destiny. I believe in various degrees of hatred, paranoia, and
abandonment. However much of that gets heaped upon you doesn't matter - it's
only a matter of how much you can take and what it does to you. - Henry Rollins
“Probably the greatest harm done by vast wealth is the harm that we
of moderate means do ourselves when we let the vices of envy and hatred enter
deep into our own natures.” - Theodore
Roosevelt
“A
nation is a society united by a delusion about its ancestry and by common
hatred of its neighbours.” -
William Ralph Inge
Happy Monday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Yes.
---
--- ---
Hello beautiful Americans!
Congratulations to Amy Jean Klobuchar; we
raised a glass of Champagne in your honor and in your name. Thank you. We’re so
hopeful for the future.
Sincerely,
Gabriel
(Yes, my closest family and friends may call
me “Gabriela” otherwise I don’t know what to tell you. They know me, they love
me and I them.)
---
--- ---
P.S. Yes, the GOP stands for “Grand Old
Party” which represents the Republican Party.
Yes, the modern “Tea Party” is a branch of
the Republican Party (GOP), however the GOP isn’t a branch of the party (not
literally) because that’s the party itself, however let it be known for the
record that the GOP has been taken over by right wing branch, neoconservative,
overly religious, evangelical conformists, separatists.
Now, I thought; (through and by the means of
academic aptitude); that America left religion to the pulpit and politics to
government.
Nothing leaves a worse taste in my mouth than
religion thrown in with politics.
The separation
of church and state is indeed a vital distinction to be made for the
country to thrive otherwise, you know what happened to those Romans; they
crumbled and died.
---
--- ---
*) No, I’m not a savior of any type.
No, I’m not Jesus Christ (far from it, I’m
imperfect and human and I make many mistakes, daily).
No, I’m not a social worker.
No, I’m not a judge.
No, I’m not a specialist.
No, I’m not an expert in any other field
other than writing.
No, I’m neither a food critic nor a critic of
any type.
No, I’m not a journalist, reporter or
politician nor do I care to become any one of those.
No, I’m not someone who can take away your
problems.
Yes, I’m human.
Yes, I’m a documentary filmmaker by trade
(literally).
---
--- ---
*) Yes, on Friday night, hands were shaken
between my Father and me at “El Toro Restaurant”.
We agreed that I wouldn’t execute, produce
and film a “Drug-Doco” because it’s such a dark and dangerous topic to
undertake. A person or a team with much more money and power than I will have
to undertake such a risky endeavor in subject matter.
Back to the drawing board.
Thank you to all of you for helping me
conduct research about the financially successful drug industry, enterprise and
markets abroad in foreign countries and in the United States of America since
2004 until last week.
I’m so honored to have gathered so much
information through and by the means of e-mails and online information. Thank
you. I shall forever be grateful to all of you.
---
--- ---
*) Yes, I refuse to become “Darth Vader” even
though I struggle with many deep and philosophical questions on a daily basis. I don’t know anything and all I can do
is research to find out the answers to difficult questions.
---
--- ---
*) Yes,
I’m quite finished with mocking the English language and at times people who have no patience with persons who are
multi-lingual.
Ha! Ha! Ha! The American culture not only
makes me laugh, hard, but it also makes me want to ‘spit in the face’ of its linguistic
ignorance, yet I was brought up better than that thus I shall uphold to a
strong “code of honor” and continue to be as respectful as I can be, even in
the face of our own culturally discriminatory self-made melodramas and American
racist adversity.
What. Do you really think that I can’t speak the ‘King’s English’? I don’t think
so.
If you get mocked by me; (either as an Indigenous or as a New
Englander) then you shall know it. If you don’t know it, immediately, then the
mockery will catch hold by the lapels, much later and it’ll hurt when the
leather gloves are smacking you across the face (metaphorically speaking).
No, I
don’t make it a practice of going around mocking others, not even when
racism rears its ugly head, but sometimes
I’m indeed human however.
I can’t help but want to mock some aspects of
American culture; like it’s gibberish English language and everything that it represents
in so far as dichotomies are concerned; especially when most Americans don’t
even speak English properly; you know it; and so do I; thus I can break all of the
rules to social norms and linguistics and make
as much fun of the language as I want to; but I don’t, unless someone really thinks that they can ‘lick’ me
at their own game and then be quite careful, I’m pure flame and fire, as small
as I may be, I do hold a candle up to the darkness, and as small as any flame
may be, it will burn.
I’m done with my personal / scientific “case study” of thinking in foreign
languages and translating such multiple languages back into English while standing up on my own-two-feet and
challenging the American culture about multi-lingual aptitudes and how badly
people (who speak several different languages) get treated in America for
speaking multiple languages; and how these incredibly talented people do hold
comprehension hesitancies about interpreting and translating from multiple
languages back into English as fast as possible; while Americans are rude and
make many assumptions about the intelligences of others. Please. Indubitably. Prejudices.
The American culture is quite prejudiced and
lacks understanding of multi-lingual persons. Actually the American culture is
right down rude and ruthless to those who have multi-lingual aptitude. Ha!
Ridiculous for a “melting pot” of cultures, religions and heritages and creeds.
A woman even called me a “burn-out” without
knowing how to speak English properly, herself.
I almost burst into full throttle laugher in
the face of her atrocious English but I didn’t want to give away my scientific linguistic
anthropological case study even though she thought she could get away with
treating me ‘niggardly’; I held my tongue
and pretended not to know what she was talking about.
She wasn’t only discriminatory but she was
also a bigot and scary.
I wanted to ram her Crystal Perkins eggs down
her throat but I’m too polite for that.
Her prejudices told me everything I
needed to know about her racist and discriminatory personality against other
multi-lingual persons. She wasn’t only mean-spirited but she was also cruel and
well what more is there to be expected from a bigot in her seventies? Nothing.
Game over. ‘You don’t know me. You’re too
old. Let go. It’s over.’ Go home, burro.
No, I’m not mocking others when I feel
awkward, inadequate and clumsy making my way through the English Language. I’m
truly human and I make mistakes every single day. However, I do curse the
English language and often. I just do.
Have you ever translated from multiple
languages back into English? I don’t think so. It’s obvious.
Nothing will humble one so fast as
comprehension, interpretation and translation from other languages into
English.
I promise you that if you can’t understand the concept to
good Christianity then take up a foreign language, because it’ll ‘lick’ your
ego in ways that nothing much else will, other than soiling your pants could.
HA!!!
Oh, yes, you’ll be humbled before Jesus
Christ, His Holiness and The divine Creator. I promise you that all three of
them will laugh at your clumsiness however they will neither think of you as an
idiot nor as a “burn out” for learning a new language. Please. The Divine are
so much more forgiving than humans ever could be.
However, I
do mock the difficulty and the tremendous brain power that it takes in
order to communicate with extreme cognitive preciseness, concise measures and
through the demanding linguistic apparatuses of the Ut-most to be understood as
well as possible in English. See? What an awkward language and I’m doing my
best not to throw a banana peel on the floor and watch the chimp fall all over
it. Ha! (A little joke.)
Yes, when I’ve just woken up; my first
language isn’t English.
Yes, when I get tired and sleepy; my first
language isn’t English.
Yes, when I’m hungry or lazy; my first
language isn’t English either. Please.
Going out in public is not only physically
exhausting but also linguistically demanding and when I’m mentally lazy then
good luck because the last thing I want to do when I’m shopping and having a
good time studying and analyzing merchandise is to want to be commanded like a
dog to bark in English. Nope. Step back.
Like Americans have a clue what it means to
comprehend, interpret and translate any other language (singular). Please.
Don’t force me to mock the Americans and their precious language made up of
bits and pieces of other languages.
If I’m being lazy minded, then so be it by all means.
However, if one is to approach me, call me
names and treat me like dirt, then don’t be surprised when I revert to the ‘King’s
English’ and leave you eating mierda in some isle of some store. Back it up.
Let’s play ‘nice’ because the New Englanders
taught me to slit throats (not literally) and that’s why I’m actually sweet by
nature. Being rude and mean is a skill that’s easily taught and just because
one has such a skill it doesn’t mean that one ought to pull it out and use it
all the time, otherwise “A plague o' both your houses”. (I love that fake Shakespeare.)
As lazy minded as I can be from a long day’s
work of intellectual thinking and analyzing I do posses the power and the
ability to be a complete jerk in perfect
English and if I’m driven to such an extreme then I’ll take the opportunity
to string together a pearl necklace of words that’ll leave one’s ego choking
for breath of life. Period.
I do have a deadly social bite as sweet as I
am as a Rottweiler-human.
Like I don’t know what the hell’s happening
in the world. I don’t think so.
Please.
The one thing that most cruel strangers hate in
finding out about me, after personally insulting me in close encounters as a
stranger in public and having them attacked me, is that I’m too intelligent for
my own good and worse of; I’m too intelligent for their own good as well. Don’t
make insulting remarks about multi-lingual persons because I’ll leave you
choking on your own feeble egos.
I’m very ‘chillaxed’ and tranquillo, but
don’t overstep personal boundaries such as calling someone names in public
especially to a perfect stranger. Please.
Are we Minnesotans or are we Minnesotans?
One never knows what intellectual,
psychological and scientific case studies I’m conducting to challenge the
culture at large and to find out truths about how discriminatory the culture truly
is. I’ve got you beat. Why? Because I do. I can always find out truths and
normally truths are more painful to those whom they get reflected upon. Peace.
---
--- ---
*) One can’t know power unless one knows
peace (another golden rule).
--- --- ---
*) Yes, the most money I’ve made another from
my direct work (in one year) was $22.8 million dollars
(twenty-two-point-eight-million dollars).
Yes, I spelled it out correctly.
Have you ever made $22.8 million dollars with
your very own two hands and from the sweat of your hard brow labor? Yes, I
have.
We make the Twin Cities Metro area millions
of dollars per year and don’t you forget it. You can’t go around treating me
like a dog. I won’t allow for it.
We’re that highly capable and willing to give
our time, intelligence and free-will market expertise over to this region
because we believe in it; otherwise we’d be someplace else making some other
region that type of money.
Now, leave
me in peace and don’t think for one moment that because I’m humble, hardworking
and kind by choice that I can’t be as
mean as the rest of the American culture.
No, I don’t pocket millions of dollars, not
even close, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t make that type of money hands down.
Please.
No, money doesn’t turn me on; no, not
expensive cars; no, not expensive homes.
What turns me on is well made and honest
food, great customer service and kind gestures without expectations as well as
community action. I hate greed because it’s boring.
I get turned on by intelligence and well
spoken people as well as people who are humble, hardworking and know the
difference between a well built home from the 1950’s and a piece of crap for
horribly built McMansions. Yes, I wrote it in black ink. We all know it.
---
--- ---
*) Oh, thank you very much!!!
It’s not only me.
I finally found out that other Robbinsdale’s women from many different age groups and races;
hate shopping at the Robbinsdale’s Walgreens; because women from all walks of
life get treated ‘niggardly’ whether they’re young, mature or any race and
creed by some of the women who work at the Walgreens there. Whew!
{Now,
there’s a service counter worker at the Robbinsdale’s Walgreens that I really
like. I think she’s in her late 40’s, Caucasian and has eye allergies (like I
do) and her little eyes water constantly and she’s a complete dream and a
sweetheart but as far as many of the other female workers are concerned they
need to go through some serious communications and customer service training.}
Yes, I’m very partial to CVS because that’s
an East Coast chain and branch.
No, don’t get me wrong; I like shopping at Walgreens, just not in
Robbinsdale because I don’t like to get my teeth kicked in by women who are
deeply insecure and only believe that men have financial power in their
households (just because Eric handles our finances it doesn’t mean that he’s
got all of the power when it comes to our financial relationship). Please.
What do you think that this is 1812?
I don’t think so.
Yes, the service women at the Robbinsdale’s
Walgreens are either incredibly discriminatory of other females and make a
complete mockery of women shopping with their husbands (and men) or they’re
just female haters in general (pick one).
I hate shopping at the downtown Robbinsdale
Walgreens so much that I stay in the car and listen to WCCO while Eric runs in
and gets Turmeric. I refuse to go in there and get a beat down as a woman.
Nope. Step way back.
One of the most recent and kosher fights (three
weeks ago) between Eric and I; was the non-verbal maltreatment that I received,
while I watched Eric get his ego stroked by a young non-Caucasian Walgreens
female oozing with unhealthy sexuality. She was like a wet vagina behind the
counter. (I could be so vulgar here upon the page but I won’t be.) Be thankful.
I could slap around some words that would leave someone bleeding upon clean white
marble floors…
I was trying to explain it to him how
dehumanizing and degrading the service was at that particular Walgreens. Eric kept refusing to hear me on this.
As a woman I do endure the non-verbal
patronizing of other women’s miscommunication, and he just couldn’t get it through his thick skull what I was conveying to him because
while I got dehumanized; he got his ego stroked in five different non-verbal
ways.
I almost got out of the car and walked back
home. I was so irate.
I was more upset at Eric than with the uneducated
idiot behind the counter.
I was so frustrated and mad at the fact that
he couldn’t get the manipulation of female haters by female haters.
I could’ve thrown Eric across a football field,
that’s how angry I was at him for letting the bitch behind the counter degrade
me by making me watch while she practically gave him non-verbal ‘head’ (not
literally) and he looked like he liked it right there in front of me. Go to hell!
Eric’s too intelligent for that crap and he
knows it.
I can give great ‘head’ at home; Eric doesn’t need to be looking for it at
Walgreens downtown Robbinsdale from an uneducated schmuck who hates women (and
their men just as much). I’ve got you
beat at this game. Back it up because when I get into the game then there’s
no stopping me; I play to win and that’s what real competition taught me; no,
an athlete doesn’t play for blood; we play for the love of the game because we
have every athletic arsenal to our disposal to win. I’ve got great aim.
I don’t care if Eric shops there, however I
refuse to so much as to set a toe inside the door and other women of
Robbinsdale are telling me the same thing. Thank you.
Robbinsdale Walgreens female employees,
careful; when other women have had enough then they sure can be quite
dangerous. I’m not speaking personally
for myself because Eric and I do have a secure and sacred marriage but if a
woman were to cause harm to any marriage then she could get herself injured.
In the Latino culture married women have the
right to… if and when any other stranger female may bring humiliation upon a
married woman in front of her husband. Careful. We’re not all playing by the
same cultural rules, so zip it up, girls.
I’m not alone in this. Thank you so much.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you to the quilting ladies of Robbinsdale for
explaining their trials and tribulations amongst other strange and oversexed women.
I’m not part of their quilting circle but I sure was honored to be invited just
once to sit amongst some of these women who hate that Walgreens and refuse to
shop there.
I love the downtown Robbinsdale’s CVS.
Women and men, both, get treated humanely. Thank
you. Thank you for not treating me like a wet vagina and my husband like something
to suck on.
*) I’m going to go have a beer and a fag. I’m
not driving anymore today.
November 9, 2012
“Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can
see.” - Mark Twain
“A part of kindness consists in loving people more than they
deserve.” - Joseph Joubert
“Carry
out a random act of kindness, with no expectation of reward, safe in the
knowledge that one day someone might do the same for you. - Princess Diana
“Beginning
today, treat everyone you meet as if they were going to be dead by midnight.
Extend to them all the care, kindness and understanding you can muster, and do
it with no thought of any reward. Your life will never be the same again.
- Og Mandino
Happy Friday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance?
Oh, yes please. I love to dance.
I’m beginning to get the four-count quite
beautifully. Thank you. (I’ve been ‘def-tone’ for years, but I’m starting to
get an ear for music. I love music above all the other art forms. I just do. I
don’t mean it to become a bias.)
Yes, of course I know that singing is mainly
all about the diaphragm. Yes, indubitably.
Nevertheless, I’m beginning to figure out what the vocal chords can do for me
since I’m the type of human who literally loses her voice when it matters most.
I’m learning to use my vocal chords but when
cruelty sets-in others, I literally
lose my voice when it most counts, not out of cowardice but out of oppressive
measures, that’s why I began writing academically at the age of twelve in the
sixth grade with the guiding hand of the Ut-most strictest English-American
tutors and coaches.
---
--- ---
Take it away Mr. Bill Maher. Break a leg.
Good luck.
Sincerely,
Gabriel
P.S. Yes, I know Springfield, Lowell and
Worcester, Massachusetts, ‘like the back of my hand’ (ha! what a queer saying).
Those areas of Massachusetts are quite impoverished. I would know, I’ve
skateboarded my way through many different neighborhoods throughout the entire Eastern
Seaboard and people have been kind, respectful and willing to allow me access
throughout their neighborhoods. Thank you.
Hello, dear Americans! You’re not forgotten;
not ever. We’ve been looking out for you for over two decades. We’ve got your
backs because we care.
---
*) There’s nothing more vulgar than any
industry that drives supermodels and actresses to look like Holocaust
survivors. I can barely look because I feel a bit of food coming up to the back
of my throat.
A woman’s weight is her personal business and
you shall leave women alone about their weight. Period.
I, only and merely write about health,
lifestyle and weight because women from all over the world have asked me to do
so however my weight is my personal
business yet I’ve come to find out that through my writings it makes others
feel less alone and when I do share my everyday real life with readers then
they end up thanking me profusely and there’s no need for that.
I know the very importance to writing and
staying quite honest on the page because maybe it’ll give others an awareness
that they may not get some place else.
No, I’m not flattered rather I’m touched to
the core of my soul.
I thought I was going to be alone out here on
my little canoe, but then tens of thousands of you came along and well, I’m no
hero, simply one individual portaging a little canoe on my own (not literally) and
carrying a canoe upon one’s shoulders through bogs is tough at the best of
times (yes, I do know firsthand).
---
*) Yes, I’ve completed 10,000 hours of
academic writing but that doesn’t mean a thing when the public has not once
seen one’s writings.
This public blog is far more instrumental
towards my first novel than any 10,000 hours of academic writing that I’ve ever
completed nevertheless academic writing is formulaic and don’t you ever forget
it.
It’s easier to write under a strict academic construct
than rolling up one’s sleeves and taking the literary helm ‘by the horns’ because
it all depends on the waves’ under currents and wind factor. Ha!
---
*) No, we didn’t hold a Halloween 2012 party
this year.
Yes, we got may e-mails and calls about it.
Maybe some time in the next decade we’ll hold one of our famous parties. People
keep telling us that our parties are unforgettable because our guests of honor feel safe and their
every need is taken care of, and yes, (sometimes
even Cuban cigars have been dispensed) (ha!). (Yes, I’m aware that Cubans
cigars are ‘a dime a dozen’, but American embargos aren’t.)
Yes, we believe in treating our guests like
royalty.
No melodramas, no crying, no fighting, no
bitterness and no misbehavior of any type. Simply intelligent and kind people
drinking, eating, being merry and happy. Ha! What’s there not to love about
incredible guests who make great hosts, great? I’ve been complimented by-and-by
being told by others that we’re incredible hosts. Thank you. Hosting sure is wonderful
work because it’s for the love of the guests and not one’s ego.
Halloween 2012 we had a blast!
I fell in love with Robbinsdale all over
again as the little ones came by and “trick-or-treated”. My heart melted at
seeing the children in their beautiful little costumes. Oh, they were so cute, ‘as
cute as buttons’ and I fell in love with our neighborhood all over again.
I never knew that handing out candy to kids
could be so much fun!!!
---
*) Correction; yes, we did a headcount and we
have 26 nephews and nieces (counting great-nephews and nieces).
We’re so fortunate and we have cousins in the
hundreds in Minnesota alone.
You never know when you’re running into one
of our own, but this is for certain; our family is full of honorable Finns and
Scandinavians who know how to fish and hunt (with shot guns and bow-and-arrow),
farm and they keep in touch with the ever changing weather. Our family is huge
into the weather because like sailors and farmers we keep an eye peeled to the
skies. Ha!
---
*) Christmas, oh, I love Christmas!!! I just
do. It makes me ever so grateful to be alive. No, we really aren’t into gifts
because we love unconditionally however we’re huge into feasting like kings and
queens. We eat!!! Oh, yes!!! No, we don’t stuff ourselves, but we do get out
our best dishware and we make foods that are nearly impossible to find
ingredients in the modern world like lard. I love the famous Kettle River
“Million Dollar Cookies” from the Holy Trinity Lutheran Church ladies. The
cookies are all sugar and butter. Oh how tasty, indeed. I love eggnog. I love
it all.
If Eric lets me; then I’ll try to keep the
tree out until March 2013, but he does push for me to put it away by the end of
February. Yes, we have a ‘fake’ tree so as not to burn down the house and not
to cut down our brothers and sisters; the trees, although I miss that pine needle
smell throughout the house.
---
*) In this season of giving please keep in
mind that I’ve come across many Minnesotans and Americans throughout the past
decade who’ve communicated with me directly that they haven’t bought any new
clothes in the past five-to-ten years. (Oh, dear ones.)
If you’re fortunate enough to purchase an
entire new wardrobe each season, then please don’t forget our American brothers
and sisters who’ve been living in dire need throughout the rural areas of America
and in the urban-city.
Please set aside your fears about poverty and
look around at the needs of our neighbors, communities and little ones. Coats
and mittens are so vital to so many of our children and adults who go without
so many other needs met throughout this cold season.
I pray for the safety of our dear youth living
out of their cars and in abandoned buildings. Oh, how I pray for their safety.
---
*) Yes, I’m fortunate to touch the ground and
the heavens.
I’m allowed to come in-and-out of lowbrow and
highbrow seamlessly like a well stitched and crocheted pillowcase, tablecloth
and apron.
I’m so fortunate and a ‘lucky bastard’. I
know. I’m quite aware.
I go to bed each night thankful for pajamas
because when one grows up in a third world jungle barrio then going to bed in
the same clothes day-after-day, week-after-week and month-after-month then that
form of life gets quite oppressive.
You have no idea how grateful I am for a change of clean clothes each and every
single day. The Gods have truly watched out for me in the past six years,
fortune has come my way in the most of significant ways. In ways that I’d not
imagined it would.
Lady luck has been looking out for me as I
grow older with each passing day as though she’s saying; “‘you’ve seen enough.
You’ve suffered enough and now, it’s your turn to thrive and to live in comfort
because you won’t forget others on your way to the very top of the mountain
with your closest family and incredible friends; forgiveness for your foes. You
won’t be alone at the very top because you were alone at the very bottom.’”
---
*) No, ‘jungle-barrio-Indigenous-peasant’
children aren’t the same as ‘urban-hardened-street’ kids.
No, they’re not even the same thing. Not even
close. I would know. I lived in an orphanage amongst them and I’d take my
chances with a jungle barrio Indigenous peasant child any day over a street kid
because having a hardened urban street kid around possibly means getting one’s
throat slit open in the middle of the night. Those were the kids of prostitutes,
drug dealers and murderers and yes, they left a cold shiver running down my
back. I barely slept in those four years. I had ‘to sleep with one eye open’
(not literally) like an Indigenous ‘on a look out.’
---
*) I only wish I could spend the entire day
watching the Tele. I only wish I got paid to do that, maybe someday but for
now, I’ve got films to make rather than to watch. Ha!
---
*) Yes, I do hold an unproclaimed ‘Honorary Doctorate Degree” from Harvard University
(not literally, they don’t even know I exist).
Yes, I’ve crowned myself; because I’ve learned many aspects of
hardship and life through the 'school of hard knocks’ while my mother received
her second masters degree from the Kennedy School and a doctorate degree from
the Harvard Divinity School while my sister and I both went homeless and
starved. (I can shove tow middle fingers further up your nostrils (like the
Brits do as a vulgar gesture for the rear end), so be quite careful; back it
up.) In Costa Rica we call this…
What. Do you think that the family members of
those who attend Ivy League don’t make as many if not more sacrifices as those who attend especially when any
family member is found wandering barefoot and homeless or dying in the snow?
Please. Who the hell does anybody think they are? I know perfectly well who I
am. A Mayan flower.
No, I didn’t lie about my poetically earned
‘Honorary Harvard Degree’.
Even though I went homeless and starved
during those years; I’m still here and writing and well, eat it. No, not even
the Ivy League system kept me from life and the pursuit of happiness.
I do hold an unproclaimed “Honorary Harvard Doctorate Degree” whether
you like it or not.
In 2002 I called up my idiotic mother (who’s
never missed a meal in her day and its obvious for it shows) while she was in
Boston and asked her to borrow $100.00 towards food (mind you I’ve very rarely
asked this cruel soul for much) and this is what she said to me: “‘Pick up a
phonebook and look under ‘food shelf’ then go there and don’t ask to borrow any
more money from me.’” As if I ever owed her a cent. What a moron!
I hadn’t eaten in three days and all I could
do was lain down on the floor and clutched my stomach from numb hunger pain.
Oh, no! I was working 18 hour days and three different jobs. Don’t judge; you
have no idea what I’ve lived through. I’ve almost died several times. Cruel Monkeys!
“Wouldn’t it be funny if Harvard ever invited
you to speak?” She asked.
Yeah, real funny!
Yes, I hold an Ivy League doctorate honorary degree,
simply because I starved and went homeless while our adopted abandoning mother
went and got her overpriced degrees from an institution that didn’t care if my
sister and I lived or died.
Yes, my sister also holds an “Honorary
Harvard Doctorate Degree” (a doctorate indeed) just as well for going homeless
at the expense of my mother’s education. Eat that for Finn-Jewish dinner. I
hope you almost choke on your food enough to get you to appreciate life.
This is what we call compensation and be glad
that this isn’t war rather justice; because if this were to be war then I’d be
scary enough to shut down Harvard University.
What. Do you really think that one individual
doesn’t hold that type of power, then you’re really not teaching your Ivy
Leaguers much. Ha! Ha! Ha! Peace because I care enough to see educational
institutions thrive. Peace, like you would know what that means. I understand
all, too, well, that only money matters and I’m yawning over here. How boring
indeed.
So, I haven’t told fifteen lies, I’ve told
fourteen.
I’m keeping score with the devil
(metaphorically speaking, of course).
---
*) Yes, aside from my abandoning adopted
mother and some family members; I do hold direct personal friendships and
relationships to those who’ve attended and graduated from Harvard for the past
fifteen years.
I do hold my own personal relationships to
people aside from family members. What do I look like an Island? Think again.
---
*) Yes, I’ve even dated the blue-blooded
Harvard’s men, who you won’t ever get to meet because well, you’re not in their
league and didn’t grow up with them. Let’s just be honest about that. Harvard
men and blue-blooded Harvard men aren’t even the same thing. Nowhere near it.
Huge distinction.
Wishing you an amazing and incredible
weekend.
We have some company staying and some company
visiting here in our home under a rock. Ha! We look forward to treating them
like royalty, what else is there?
Long live liberty!
November 8, 2012
“Christ and The Church: If he were to apply for a divorce on the
grounds of cruelty, adultery and desertion, he would probably get one.” - Samuel Butler
“Cruelty would be delicious if one could only
find some sort of cruelty that didn't really hurt.” - George Bernard Shaw
Happy Thursday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Yes, please. My tribal soul loves dancing and laughter.
I love the Polka, although I don’t dare take
to the floor when it comes to Polka. I don’t know how to dance the Polka very
well and that, alone, makes me shy to the marrow however I do love watching
others dance the lovely Polka. Yes, indeed.
---
--- ---
No, I don’t believe in cruelty of any type.
No, I don’t believe in torture of any type.
No, I don’t believe in violence of any type.
No, I don’t believe in injustices and
prejudices of any type.
Yes, I believe in compassion above all else.
Yes, I believe in peace above all else.
Yes, I believe in justice above all else.
I believe in balance above all else.
I believe in moderation.
I believe in kind.
I believe in humane gestures.
I believe in love.
No, I don’t believe in war.
I hate conflict. It leaves me physically ill,
but I’ll do it when others are out of bounds and without the ability to be just
to those they live, work and co-exist amongst.
I refuse to be a pushover.
I’m
power itself because I was born a flower and even a flower has the divine will
and the power to change the cruelest of souls by taking one look at her, they
know that she doesn’t have a mean bone in her body however it doesn’t mean that
the flower belongs to any one man, for she belongs to the Universes’ whispers
of her Indigenous ancestors and no one else.
She’s freedom dancing in the seasonal winds
and even if any man were to step upon her out of sheer cruelty and mindlessness
it doesn’t make her any less beautiful in her quest to live and thrive
peacefully amongst the trees’ canopies.
A flower is of the soil and she knows very
well that that’s where she’ll return even if she’s plucked and set down upon a
vase by foreigners and gawked at waiting for her to elegantly die as her every
breath of life vanishes with each passing day inside a prison of porcelain
china and water for other’s empty amusements.
A flower will do her best to bring about agape
pleasure, love and justice even though she understands that her life has been
one of cruelty upon shameless cruelty upon her from hence forth the moment she
was plucked from her motherland soil and travelled thousands of miles north to
submit to cultural slavery by force.
I’m a Costa Rican by-and-by and we don’t war
at all costs we must keep the peace.
As a Costa Rican it’s in my soul not to war,
however, we don’t believe in getting run over and thus we can fight any real great
fight and win; because we won’t standby as our loved ones get slaughtered
through-and-by the means of cruelty, disrespect and injustice.
Even if it means fighting a spiritual war
then we’ll go to battle because we’re neither afraid of the spiritual nor of
the soul. We believe in the Gods; the divine will of love and justice combined.
We know that we’re not alone here upon this
Universe and thus we keep a stern demeanor about us amongst strangers but truly
we just want to break-bread, laugh and dance amongst our brothers and sisters.
Yes, we might come across as simpletons to
you but one aspect of our intellectuality is that we’ve got the world beat;
which is our ability to keep continual peace; and that’s a feat for the ages
and divinely disciplined-will towards love.
I believe in the Minnesotans and thus I
challenge them to a spiritual-intellectual dual towards their freedom and kind
gestures of the soul.
No, no one’s forgotten the lovely Minnesotans
and our Native Americans.
We; The
World believes, in the Minnesotans to be better than they are with a dire
need towards an attitude adjustment and onto a road to human love.
---
--- --
No, I’m not ‘hiding out’. What do I look like
a crocodile terrorist? I don’t think so.
Yes, I do hide as an Indigenous.
When, one, is in the jungles and, one, sees a
man coming one’s way with a semi-automatic weapon then one hides or otherwise
deal with the consequences of a machine gun in one-form-or-another held in the
hands of a man and there’s no end to his powerless need to use it against
another.
Mayan Indigenous have been taught to hide for
over two millennia like rare flowers in the deepest jungle floors that, in
their beautiful possession hold a cure to... Why hide? Because in our history
we’ve been taught that most everything
is a danger to us. We’ve been an endangered species since the beginning.
I know the wolves; my brothers to be ‘tried and true’ since the very beginning when I first
began running as one of them amongst their cousins; the husky dogs (at the age
of eleven) in the form of sled dogs.
I’ve made friends with many animals
throughout the world and if my own species doesn’t have my back then nature
does. Nature has proven to be much kinder to me than my own species and I shall
forever be respectful, grateful and mindful of her greatest generosity, life;
itself.
I know what it’s like to sail the great seas
in a vessel as second in command. I know the gift of life because out at sea it
hangs in the balance. Nothing is wasted nor taken for granted out at sea.
Yes, I can find it in me to smile at
strangers because I know what it’s like when hyperthermia sets in deep into the
bones.
I like rules and I like to follow them in
great faith that great social contracts will be upheld by the humans like,
decency, dignity, respect and above all else selflessness to one’s ‘King and Country’.
Yes, rules are meant to be broken if there’s
cause to do so, such as when cruelty sets deep into the marrow of leaderless
leaders.
Yes, rebellion is for those who seek justice
under tyranny, otherwise, I believe in solutions not death and destruction.
Yes, I believe in a stern demeanor if
something’s out of balance to set it straight.
Yes, I believe in rebelling, artistically,
when leaders know that what they do is wrong.
Sbohem. Farvel. (Oh, how I do love those Chezchs and
Danish.)
Gabriel
P.S. No, don’t get me started about Benghazi’s
2012 attack and the 10 deaths to those Libyans and our government’s ineptness
in that particular situation; especially whatever the mass media machine wants
to believe and report about it (back it up). No, don’t get me started about the
1970’s-2000’s San Salvadorian ‘freedom fighter’s war’ against the oligarchy and
the CIA. No, don’t get me started about the Cuban missile crises. No, don’t get
me started about McCarthyism. No, don’t get me started about communism and poor Hollywood’s finest getting black listed.
No, don’t get me started about Native American modern alcoholism, murder and
rape against their women. No, don’t get me started about the 60% Native
American High School dropout rate. No, don’t get me started about the
contemporary artless fashion of cross examination in debate. No, don’t get me
started about the Minnesotan youth who live out of their cars. No, don’t get me
started about cocaine, meth, heroine and every other hard drug (legal and
illegal) that runs rampage in the Heartland and in the Twin Cities Metro Area
and rural areas. No, don’t get me started about American cruelty and self-loathing.
No, don’t get me started about the 50% of American drugged-out population on
idiotic legal pharmaceutical drugs for profit. No, don’t get me started because
I’d debate any man and win.
The meek shall inherit the Earth…
Peace be with you. How beautiful.
*) No, I refuse to have our lovely Native
American (First People) brothers and sisters jump on the ‘white man’s’ media political
bandwagon about ‘saving the wolves’; my
brothers the wolves; when Native American women are raped and murdered in
droves and ‘First Children’ are abused and starved by their own tribesmen.
Don’t sell me that malarkey.
It’s close to impossible to go around
preaching about ‘saving the Earth’ when our human species refuses to treat our
own species with dignity, humanity and respect.
No, no one can sell me a lie because I’m not
a sellout.
I know very well how mistreated, raped and murdered
our Native American women are. (Why does ‘First Man’ hate his sister and his
companion, ‘First Woman’, so much? What does ‘First Woman’ remind ‘First Man’
of? Does First Woman remind First Man of their lack of male-power?)
If Native American (First Man) would like; I
can set the wolves upon your tribes (literally and figuratively; have you ever
whispered back and forth with the wolves?) because they can sniff out any lie a
mile away and howl with contempt.
Yes, there must be a wolf hunt as in the days
since the ‘first settlers’ because the wolves are growing in population and our
sheep farmers are losing their sheep to wolves’ infectious bites and disease
from those very wolf bites that create maggots in the sheep’s rectums just as
we’re losing our Native American women from Native American men’s rape and murder.
How vile. Maggots do come in many different forms, especially rape and murder.
I was sent back here to do a job, well-done
by my Elders and I’m doing it otherwise I’d disappear deep into the jungles and
run barefoot without a care in the world about the modern world.
No, I’m not personally a mirror, but my
writing is here to reflect the times we live in.
Stand up First
Men.
Stand up and face yourselves.
Stand up, I tell you.
Stand up to the changing tides.
Stand up to the howling winds and mature.
Man-up and stop using the rape and murder of
your First Women as an excuse to
drink yourselves to death.
What happened to your First People’s leadership?
Money and riches has nothing to do with a divine
will to live and to love and to thrive.
Why have you taken on the battle to win over
the ‘white man’s’ poison driven into your veins?
Drink is poison to First People’s while it’s sweet elixir juice to the ‘white man’
because he knows how to drink in moderation, supposedly.
Don’t you know that tobacco smoke is ‘First
Man’s’ sweet elixir in moderate expression and death to the ‘white man’ who
doesn’t know how to smoke the peace pipe?
I’ve come across First People’s youth and they left me with a crawling fear of
cruelty because I couldn’t see a trace of kindness in their faces. They almost
killed me (literally) out-of-sheer stupidity and hatred for themselves and I
thought: ‘these youth wouldn’t know a thing about scalping another because they
don’t know anything about love only sheer cruelty and they think that’s what
makes a warrior a warrior’. Pity.
*) Hartford, Connecticut: To our loved ones:
Happy Winter!
Yes, I know Hartford, Connecticut ‘like it’s
the back of my hand.’
Hartford has much poverty.
November 7, 2012
Happy Wednesday!
Aloha.
Congratulations Mr. President Barack Obama
and to your administration we raised a glass of Champagne in your honor.
Congratulations Mr. Congressman Representative Keith Ellison and to your
supporters we raised a glass of Champagne in your honor.
Sincerely;
Gabriel
P.S. I ran out of time to seriously write for
today.
I’ve got way too many other responsibilities
to meet. Yes, I’ve got three documentaries sitting on the stove and well, I’ve
got some serious jig-saw puzzles to put together.
No, we won’t be premiering a documentary
again this year 2012. We ran out of time and we’ve been living-working more so than
working-working. Sorry.
We’ll let you know when we’ll premiere next
and where in 2013.
---
--- ---
*) I do wonder what he smells like?
(No, no one famous; on television or on
radio.)
Nothing serious.
Just an adult female wondering and passing
thought about another human-being that I’m staying as far away from as possible.
Ha! Funny how life works out but something made me think of… I stay away
because I know when I’ve been blown off… I’ve got too much pride to make the
same mistake twice in one lifetime and I’m seriously too shyly-stern (no, not
cutesy) when it comes to asking someone to join me in friendship especially
when that ship never even had a chance to leave harbor then I run away, and,
no, I don’t make it a tendency of coming back. I hide like an Indigenous. Why
wouldn’t I?
You’re looking through an eagle’s eye and I’m
not dead; I can look. Some people
simply make me nervous a bit. You know? Yes.
I keep my hands to myself, thank you very much!!!
Sometimes, though in potential male / female
friendships one can’t help but to be drawn-in by someone because… Nothing. The
reason no longer matters, does it? I was put in my place; I know where I belong
‘over the mountains and through the
woods’. Ha!
Once a man ‘blows off’ a woman in friendship
then he’ll have to ‘shake heaven and earth’ to get her to even notice a speck
of dust on his lapel. Once a man has slammed a door on a woman then he has a
better chance at dancing with rhinos than getting her to so much as to look his
way.
She’ll refuse to look because she already
knows his wrath and what’s the point? She’s already had a smack down, why would
she go back for more? She wouldn’t. She already knows what cruelty feels like
in the face of racial adversity and communication is difficult at the best of
times. I’m sorry but I don’t go around looking for a beat down.
Men, they don’t know a thing about women. They
don’t. Much less how to befriend a woman in adulthood (without sex involved)
especially if the woman has a brain inside her head, one that she uses on a
daily basis.
I love Eric with my complete mind, body and soul.
He knows that more than any other man that I’ve ever met or known or know. I
like a lot of male friends but I don’t…
No, I don’t have a seven year itch.
I can scratch my own itch (if need be) or be
scratch. Thank you. Ha!
Nope.
Caucasian men have been cruel to me and I’m
running as far away from male friendships as fast as I can. (Unfortunately, I’ve
met too many Caucasian closeted-homosexuals who hate women.)
Now, that I don’t have pregnancy hormones
running through my body (one full year since surgery); I feel like my vision
has improved, I’m sharp, all-together here and I can tell a loser apart from a
Champion. Remarkable.
I feel like a new woman and I won’t have the wool pulled over my eyes.
I’m no longer in fight mode for the
protection of potential offspring.
No, I’m not in flight mode either, yet I
can’t help but hide. I’m too…
Now, I feel like an intellectual gladiator. Fun!
No, no self-made melodramas or stupid
fantasizing girl romances. Please. I’m an adult female and I’m so real that
when I’m touched by Eric I feel deeply and beautifully.
I ought to write Erotica and leave you
licking your wounds in the dust. Someday.
Happy hump day! Ha! Ha! Ha!
---
--- ---
*) Yes, we’re taught in Prep school that if,
one, exercises during the middle of the day then, one, must shower before
getting back into one’s ‘uniform’. Thank you very much.
Suits and their workout smells make me want
to gag a bit. What’s the point of sitting near a sharply dressed man with
crotch sweat? No. No. No. No. It’s a turn off. Women just don’t want to hurt
fragile egocentric egos but they hate that smell. It reminds us of old man’s sweaty
socks.
---
--- ---
*) Cheers. I do wonder… I can’t concentrate very
well today yet I must. I have some serious work to get through.
---
--- ---
*) Yes, voting in Robbinsdale, yesterday was
pure happiness. Thank you. What a wonderful and great time we had voting. I’ll
write more later. It truly was an experience that I shan’t forget for as long
as I live. Thank you so very much!!!
---
--- ---
*) Breakfast at the Crystal Perkins was
wonderful. Great and real service. Thank you for not shoving our teeth down our
throats. We really did appreciate it all.
I’ve got to run. I can’t think…
---
--- ---
*) Correction; Yes, Rick Perry is the
Governor of Texas and not Mr. Mitt Romney.
I’m sorry about the mistake, I keep confusing
Michele Bachmann, Rick Perry and Mitt Romney together, because they’re all the
same to me. I’m sorry but it’s the truth I can’t tell them apart.
---
--- ---
*) “The Rachel Maddow Show” is indeed
informative.
Rachel Maddow is America’s big sister.
I love how much people respect Rachel Maddow
and what she says to The People. Thank you for existing and giving The People
hope. Here in these parts, The People look to Rachel for hope and she continues
to deliver like an Olympian.
I just love the way people talk about Ms.
Maddow as though she has reached into their hearts and given them something
more spectacular than the first snow fall of the year.
We’re recording and we’ll catch up over the
weekend. Smile.
November 6, 2012
Happy Tuesday!
Happy Election Day!
Aloha.
Please vote.
Peace.
Gabriel
P.S. My cousin in Manhattan just got
electricity back yesterday. Thank you. She’d been living by candle light for a
week. She’s so stern and cool. I love that cool wild cat.
*) How can uneducated American children not
know how to correctly pronounce the President of the United States of America’s
name? Gross. (That tells, one, a lot about contemporary American parents.) No
wonder the United States of America is being left in the dust by other
countries.
It’s Mr. President Barack Obama to you. Thank
you very much!
*) Yes, I like “AmericInn” hotels; they’ve become one of my favorite places to
stay; no, they’re not five star hotels, but they sure are clean, not racist and
well organized. That’s where we stay when we travel north because whatever
they’re doing, they’re doing it right in treating their patrons humanely. I go
there because I’m treated like a human and not ‘niggardly’. Thank you!!!
November 5, 2012
Happy Monday!
Aloha.
Wow, I had way too many responsibilities to
fulfill today!
Is it really almost eight at night? Wow!
The day went by like a blur in the wind.
---
--- ---
Shall we dance? Yes. Please.
I stepped out dancing Friday night for the
first time in one year and I loved it!!!
The “Gay 90’s” is an establishment that knows
how to treat their patrons well. Thank you. We had a blast. What fun!!!
---
--- ---
When I was in 7th (1990-91) and 8th
(1991-92) grade I was elected by my classmates to be their class secretary and treasurer
and I took my responsibilities quite seriously, considering that I was training
four hours a day in speedskating and really didn’t have much time for anything
else.
The class’s budget always balanced, we stayed
in the black, we took fun fieldtrips and held class dances, donated our money
to charity and I didn’t, not once put
my hands into the till.
::: (That
four years at a blasted-bloody Roman Catholic Orphanage experience did come in
handy; guilt is the quickest way to make someone responsible to the end.
Although guilt no longer drives me; I refuse to reach for a carrot these days.
I’m honorable because discipline has taught me to be so.)
You neither have to like me nor agree with
me, but you do have to respect the fact that I’m who I say I am. Thank you very
much!
Yes, I’ve acted foolish in the past (please
forgive me).
I didn’t know (until last November 2011 when
I was first and finally diagnosed with “fibroids”) that I had pregnancy
hormones running through my body every single day from growths forming inside
my uterus since 1995 when I started getting horrible abdominal pain that lasted
for 17 years (November 2011) when I had a 1.3, 1.4, 1.5, 1.6 million dollar
operation (I can’t remember exactly how
much the operation was but it was some one-point-something-million).
I spent 17 years barely able to breathe from
the pain pushing against my entire insides and making me think that I was dying
from the pain. Women’s healthcare stinks in America and no one cares if women
live or die. (What a waste of life on Earth and I don’t even like being human
all that much.) Ha! A little joke. :::
Yes, I’m quite proud of my accomplishments since
youth and (I’ve got quite a bit of them under my belt) because I’ve proven to
be honest, hardworking and responsible and no, I had no reason to fib or lie
thus I’ve been ‘tried and true’ to the end. How wonderful, indeed!
Even when I was crabby I didn’t steal
calculators or any other such objects from my classmates’ lockers and / or
their personal belongings. I’ll go to the grave happy about the fact that I
didn’t rob anyone blind for any reason; not
even as a joke.
---
----- ---
I spent my entire 8th grade year as
a volunteer helping out a friend get a recycling program started at our Preparatory
school.
I collected cans and recycled them from large
bins on Friday afternoons with a close friend who died in her mid twenties
(July 2003). R.I.P.
We would gather the entire school’s recycling
and made it our priority not to allow for the cans, paper and other bi-products
to go to waste.
Taking responsibility for the entire school’s
recycling was not only a boring responsibility but also quite a dirty job and
I’d end up sticky and dirty from picking up and wheeling the recycling bins from
one end of the school to out back, cleaning the bins and placing them all back.
Whew!
No, recycling wasn’t my favorite
extra-curricular activity but I whole-heartedly believed in the ‘new’ recycling
program at that time in which my
friend had started and since no one else would help out nor volunteer with the start-up
of the program I jumped right in and decided to take responsibility for it;
alongside my friend because I believed in her vision as much as I believed in
recycling and getting the sticky substance out of the cans. It takes ‘guts and
glory’ to follow through with such an activity.
---
----- ---
My 8th grade year of school a
‘goofy boy’ transferred into our class from a public school and he was not only
funny as hell but also disruptive to our learning and got away with being
disrespectful at times because he was quick on his feet and a class clown. He
and I became friends, because he became friends with my other two very close male
friends in my class.
My comprehensive English skills at that time
weren’t very good even though I’d had perfect diction for years and well, I
couldn’t follow his conversations about pop-culture but I sure could follow his
clown gestures and facial expressions and that was enough for us to be friends
even though... he wasn’t very good for me nor a role model. Hardly.
My three best male friends and I spent part
of our summer (when I got back from Boston) going into our Freshman year of
High School hanging out together and we’d all sleep over at our one male
friend’s home on Woodland Avenue.
No, our hanging out had nothing to do with
sex. I didn’t even know what sex was until I was a sophomore in college. (No,
there was no ‘hanky-panky’ with the ‘ugly Indian kid’ at the orphanage. I was a
cleaning slave.)
We’d stay up late at night and watched old
black-and-white horror flicks that I couldn’t understand any of it but it sure
was fun. We’d have breakfast with his older siblings and eat sugar cereal until
I’d go purple in the face because at home all there was-was organic rabbit food
that no one ever prepared, the refrigerator was always packed and stocked full
to the brim with rotting food, yes, rotting food.
Oh, what fun that was until it all came
crashing down before our very own eyes in our freshman year of school.
Oh, what fun we had together until it got
destroyed.
That summer going into 9th grade,
one week before school started; I pretended to be tougher than I really was and
I’d made the boys panic by stating that I knew how to burn ants with a
magnifying glass even though I had no idea what that meant. (I don’t even think
that I’d ever held a magnifying glass in my hands until college.)
They began to distrust me instantly that day. I
wanted to know if their clowning was a front or an extension of them. I soon
found out that they were who they pretended to be. Clowns. Shame.
One broke my heart by dating my archenemy (who’d
sniffed my first boyfriend’s ass for years). I had rejected my male friend (not
my first boyfriend) and after rejecting him behind a movie theater everything
changed (that cold winter night), the other got caught stealing calculators and
the other made a mockery out of me all in one year.
What a hellish year I had my freshman year.
I thought about lining them up against the
lockers and spanking all three of them but they were too big and too old for
that and I wasn’t about to speak to any of them for breaking my heart and
betraying our code of honor in friendship. I became miserable by their
misbehavior.
In our 9th grade year I decided to
run for class president and took it quite seriously because I loved our class
and our school.
Yes, I believed in ‘school spirit’ even
though I was a ‘grunge’ (a music fashion) kid hanging out with all of the other
artsy kids who broke rules for no reason and needed an attitude adjustment, yet
since I didn’t understand English very well it was best to hang out with them
because then I didn’t have to speak, too, much. All I had to do was listen to
how much they hated school, which I secretly loved; I could simply hang out and
say nothing and that was about it.
I didn’t have to keep up with fashions, or
who was cool and who wasn’t. These rebellious kids neither expected anything
from me nor, I; from them. I already had incredible friends who didn't attend
my school and thus I simply needed to coast through the social scene.
I decided to run for class president that
year, because I really wanted the position to do something incredible with our
class.
Not only did I have visions for change, but I
also had experience with the student council.
I quickly realized that my main obstacle was
that I wasn’t ‘the most popular kid’ in my class because I had chosen to drop
out of the ‘in-crowd’ nor was I very liked, once; I started getting an edge
about me, other people staid as far away from me as possible.
I didn’t blame them; I just couldn’t be that bubbly human that they
had known for two years previously.
I had too many hardships on my silver platter
to contend with and everyone who’d been my friend at school dropped me like a
fly on a wall because I couldn’t deal with their kid like superficiality any
longer.
Life hit me hard and I was no longer into
clothes nor the stupid kid stuff that everyone else was into. I was trying to
keep my family together at all costs.
---
----- ---
My parents fought (screamed at the top of
their lungs night and day for hours about money) all the time, even though our family were multi-millionaires and
had more net worth than all of my classmates combined; I was living as the
poorest kid in school and had to be on scholarship and worked my way through
school; had my running shoes donated in the form of a $50.00 voucher from my track
coach and I felt so ashamed that I was taking resources away from others but I,
too, barely was given any money for school clothes, activities and other life
expenses because I kept being told the lie that we barely had any money when it
was oozing like a water fountain from my Duluth Grandfather’s inheritance and my
expenses were being stolen from right under my nose. What a stupid 16 year old kid
to believe a crazy ‘bi-polar’ parent who economically enslaved me for no reason
other than she was afraid to be alone in her misery.
My lovely Father moved out of the house (I
went home one day and all of his belongings were gone); (I thought someone had
placed a spear right through my heart) left, yet once again, abandoned to
contend with yet another crazy ‘bi-polar’ bitch, who, hated my guts and
manipulated me into hating my Father for a few years. (I’ve forgiven my Father
since and he; me. We have an unbreakable bond.)
We were such a dysfunctional family in those
days.
I continued to be a cleaning adopted slave
well into my twenties while my sister was called a ‘slut’ for wearing too much
makeup (because she didn’t know how to use it) and I was called an ‘ugly cunt’
for fighting for my sister’s right to wear it.
In the end I lost everything and I
mean everything as a punishment for standing up for myself to the abuse, (some
of my family and my entire inheritance) because I was adopted into one crazy
side of a family that hates themselves so much that they can barely deal with
their alcoholism, over-eating, over-worked and self-loathing and their hatred
of each other. Yep. Nope, water is indeed
thicker than blood. (Yep, I meant to write it like that.)
If I had another chance to do it over again;
I would’ve gotten my sister as far away as I could’ve before she started
snorting cocaine with the wealthiest son-of-a-bitch for Duluth’s reject (whose wealthy
and mean Grandfather just passed away in the last year) and when she got caught
smoking marijuana in the girl’s bathroom in her eighth grade year of school; I knew
very well that she wasn’t being taken care of no matter ‘how successful’ my
parents were in their careers. I knew that it was going to be a long haul.
---
----- ---
“Hamlet’s Soliloquy”
Nope,
back it up.
I’ve
got this one.
In
2003 while my ‘bi-polar’ crazy adopted mother attended Harvard on our Duluth
Grandfather’s inheritance that she stole in the form of a divorce; I literally
starved in Duluth, Minnesota (and eventually became homeless that winter) while
my sister dropped out of college in her first year of college, went homeless,
was found barefoot wandering the streets of Miami and worked at a strip club.
Nope, don’t
judge; some of my Ipswich female loser cousins drink away their ‘daddy’s’
money and care about nothing at all
but their hair and where their next drink is going to come from; these low-life’s
are shells of carcasses who have no cause and nothing to live for but their
ugly, hallow and insecure selves. What a waste of a life. My alcoholic uncle
and cruel aunt created that monster because they hate each other, their
marriage and themselves so much.
Don’t tell me that I don’t know what the fuck
went down, ‘assholes’.
I know very well what went down.
Fuck you and your sanctimonious adoptions.
Fuck you and your cruel America.
Fuck you and your Ivy League.
Fuck you and your concept of ‘fame and
fortune.’
No one ever makes an honest million and I would know firsthand. I had my teeth
kicked in while others stepped over me.
Fuck you and “your” truth disguised in the
form of ‘bi-polar’ lies.
I know the truth to be true and its taken
nine years of research to find out what went wrong. The truth will set us all free.
Facts sure are a beautiful aspect to life.
Nope. Back it up, my sister ended up working
at a strip club, I starved while my ‘asshole’ ‘bi-polar’ mother attended
Harvard without a care in the world. What’s
wrong with that picture? Everything. I hope you choke on your million
dollars.
Bastards till the end.
I’d rather die in the gutter than crawl back
to that infestation. Everything I have; I worked for with my own two hands. No
body and I mean nobody gave me anything except Eric.
No, I haven’t seen my crazy ‘bi-polar’
adopted mother since August of 2008 and I hope I won’t have to see her again
for as long as I live. She’s no mother to me.
Go wipe your asses for a change.
My New England family hates my sister because
she truly is ‘drop dead gorgeous’, intelligent and wise (when she wants to be,
yet they made an alcoholic out of her starting at the age of 13); they fester
in their ugliness, obesity, alcoholism and shallow competition based on hatred;
but know this, that the sins of the
children are indeed the sins of the parents and no, the sins of the parents
aren’t the sins of the children.
Our family hates it’s youth because all they
ever wished for, was to stay young forever
while they forgot that everything gets old and dies, eventually; the loser Baby
Boomers in our family took out their anger about aging out on their children and
still do take out their rage on the following generation because they thought
that life was going to be easy and a housewife was going to wipe their butts
well into their fifties. Spoiled idiots with idealisms of never growing old.
Stupid morons, who believe in overworking themselves into their graves with
nothing to show for because their kids hate them and that’s why they became
alcoholics like their parents.
What.
Do you think that I didn’t grow up seeing my
cousins abused also?
Fuck you and your concept of freedom.
My one uncle used to hit my one cousin so
hard across the ears that all I could do was wince and all of the adults didn’t
ever have the courage to stop my uncle except for my dad. The adults would
stand by silently in their cowardice. Crazy alcoholic control freaks without
dignity.
What.
Do you think that I didn’t grow up seeing my
beautiful Amesbury cousin-sisters get abused by their ‘bi-polar’ crazy mother
who used to say the most abusive things to them and about the rest of the
family?
Please.
Cowards till the end.
What.
Do you think that I don’t know that my uncle
stood by like a coward and let his beautiful little girls take the brunt of
their mother’s wrath because he didn’t have a backbone to stand up to some
crazy ‘bi-polar’ bitches in our family.
Please.
Those bitches aren’t Alphas, those women are
cowards and you know what a coward is, don’t you? A displaced ‘douchebag’
without a clan, a nation or a tribe.
They’re not even Omegas. I love the Omegas if
you know anything about the relationship between Alphas and Omegas.
As an Alpha I’ll stand up for the Omegas any
day but as for a coward that’s a different story all together.
I’d rather make waves and lose everything
than stand by and watch abuse unfold. I refuse to sell my soul for a few pieces
of silver.
If I did it all over again; I would’ve taken
my sister and ran.
You; crazy American ‘assholes’.
Please.
Don’t tell me anymore lies, as though I can’t
decipher the truth from a lie.
I can’t wait for you to die and rot in hell.
Wait for me there because I’ve got a ‘one-stop-shop’ to make before I make it
to ‘Flower Mountain’ (Maya heaven).
Yesterday I was a slave.
Today I’m freedom.
---
----- ---
Oh, how our parents forgot about us and yes,
it’s our greatest family secret but it’s been 17 years and any lawyer of mine
has told me that I have ‘statute of limitation’ on my side, sitting on my bill,
therefore I can write whatever the hell I’d like and they’ll back me up. Thank
you. What, do you think? -- That I’m out here farting in the wind by myself?
Think again.
I was breaking down, falling apart and no one
cared to ask me; “How’s your day?”
---
----- ---
I was miserable as any freshman in high
school can get but its worse living through abuse that has no visible marks.
I was… paid $3.00 a week in allowances to
clean like a slave, wash dirty poop stained underwear before school, make
meals, take care of my sister all the while my parents fell apart and they couldn’t
parent much less take care of us any longer (until 19 years of age I received
$3.00 in allowances to run our household, that’s why I had to go and get a job
at the age of 15 bussing tables at Little Angie’s Cantina on the weekends). I
was exhausted. My Duluth Grandfather died and he was the only ‘voice of reason.’
I kept it together but barely and pretended
that everything was fine the moment I stepped through the doors of my school.
I was poorer than I’d been as a kid in a
third world country.
I needed financial help; but how does, one,
ask one’s friends and family to help out when one, is, too, old as a fifteen
year old? At times I wasn’t even given money for lunch in those days and I
starved because no one and I mean no one looked out for me.
I put all of my eggs into one basket and
decided to run for class president, until my ‘asshole’ friend decided to run
for class president against me. I should’ve whipped him just once to get him to
wake up and become alert to his senses.
The mad man ran a campaign against me: “Save
the llamas” campaign and my entire classmates fell for it.
The entire campaign was treated as a joke and
I lost the election because my former friend was out to prove to me that it was
all a joke and that he could get himself elected on a false campaign.
He broke my heart. He was heartless.
He ripped my heart out of my chest and I
watched him eat it in front of me.
I refused to bow down to his stupidity and
continued running my campaign but by the time I went to give my speech to my
class I was so distraught and became so hardened by the damning lesson that I was
being taught that all I could say to my class was “vote for me”. Once, again, I
had lost my voice.
I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. I wanted
to cry. I wanted to whip my former friend.
“Nooo, don’t vote for me; Vote for saving the
llamas.” What a sham.
He went on to become class president and got
elected by a landslide.
I didn’t blame him.
I blamed myself for having the need to hang
onto something like student council because it had brought so much structure to
my life and I needed structure more than anything else. I ached for it.
This idiotic young man drew llamas in
pencil-sketching and taped them up all over the walls of the school. I couldn’t
even go to the water fountain without looking up and seeing some grotesque
sketch of llamas.
I wanted to punch him in complete hatred for
making a mockery of the last thing I was hanging onto for dear hope.
He got elected. I staid as far away from him
as possible. He transferred out the following year.
(No,
he isn’t even listed our freshman year of school in our year book, to prove yet
another pointless point. Still yet, I remember him as clearly as night and day in our freshman ‘English Comp.’ class; I
do; and so does everybody else.)
I staid as far away from the rest of my
classmates.
I went on to win state in speedskating that
winter.
The following winter I went to Nationals and
then I got out of Duluth.
My abdominal area started killing me my junior
year; I went off the Arts High School, (which I hated and everybody knew that),
I graduated as Valedictorian who doesn’t even get invited to school reunions
from former cocaine snorting classmates. Fine. Moving on.
My Prep school mates broke my heart and they
knew it but they didn’t quite know how they had broken it.
I learned for the first time what the
democratic process meant that year; hacks.
Some hacks run for elections and some hacks
want to choose hacks for presidents; especially when hacks are in the business
of telling lies to other hacks; then we’re all in for a whirl ride. Don’t drink
the spiked Kool-Aid. Don’t go down the rabbit hole. There’s nothing there but
lies.
With love; I know what betrayal truly is.
America has taught me betrayal, while jungle
barrio kids for peasants, we’d give our shirts off our backs to those who
needed it far more than ourselves because we know what it really means to
starve and to require resources. If you don’t know what that’s like then
nothing really matters and everything becomes cynical and a joke. Pity.
Peace.
Gabriel
---
--- ---
P.S. No, I don’t believe in being tardy but
sometimes life happens and we’re human.
---
--- ---
*) No, I’m not a socialite; get that stupid
idea out of your heads. A socialite is no different than a prostitute. Please.
What do I look like overcooked meat? I don’t think so.
---
--- ---
*) Yes, walking and dancing with weights can
lead to heart strain and possibly heart attack. It’s so bad for people. Please
don’t sell that malarkey and such an insane idea to the Americans because,
sometimes, some are too gullible to know any better. Please don’t kill our
beautiful little Americans we need them alive, here and now.
---
--- ---
*) Yes, granola has more calories in it than
pumpkin pie with whip cream on top.
Yes, seriously; eating granola for breakfast
is like eating half a pumpkin pie; at the end of the year of 2007 I took myself
off of a one-year practice of eating granola for breakfast every single day and
I lost 30 pounds (in 2008) (I took off another 20 pounds in 2009) and have kept
it off with the exception of surgery one year ago (last November 2011) due to
dire (life and death) illness and stress due to that very illness (you’re
human, you know what that’s like). When
the body’s in dire pain it has to cope somehow.
In five years I haven’t put back on the 50
pounds again, not completely, thanks
to the Gods.
I put on a little bit of weight (13 pounds) this
past spring 2012 but that’s because I was on painkillers and terribly ill
trying to keep the pain at bay post-recovery; I’ve since then (May 2012) have
taken off the 13 pounds by moving from a flat into our home.
In the months of July and August 2012 I
packed up our entire lives; 35 large plastic bins weighing 50-80 pounds each;
lots of books and I lost the 13 pounds of body fat from post-recovery surgery;
carrying, shoving, moving the bins around from room-to-room, trying to make
more space for other furniture and such.
Do you know what it’s like to pick up 80
pounds? Incredible.
I didn’t know that I was so strong. I can
pick up an entire table and move it by myself. By the end of August I could
pick up eighty pound bins and set them down like it was fluff, then I spent the
months of September-October 2012; carrying, shoving, moving the bins around
from one floor to another as we unpacked our lives. Wow, lots of work. I didn’t
know that I had it in me, yet I did. I’m ever so grateful to be so strong and
healthy.
Illness and lifestyle sure are two very
different aspects to life (you know that).
Granola is a treat and not a way to a healthy
lifestyle.
Granola is for those who exercise hard!
I threw my granola away in the trash can and
I refuse to touch it again as a daily lifestyle.
What. There’s some insane amount of calories
in granola; something like 800 calories in a cup or two of granola. I can’t remember exactly the amount of
calories but when I found out I went home and threw out my granola in bulk.
I take in anywhere from 1200 to 1500 calories
per day and I feel quite full.
When I’m hungry, I eat, and, I stop, when I’m
full; it’s all about listening to your body speaking to your brain and your
brain listening to your body speak; not to over feed it just because you’re
bored, lonely, upset, depressed, desperate or stressed out.
The number one cause to hanging on to extra
pounds is stress, because one’s body believes that it’s ‘under fire’ / war
(fight or flight response) and when you’re under stress then your body’s
fighting like hell to hang onto every pound in case of fire, emergencies or famine;
so now you know.
Keep your stress levels low and no self-made
melodramas to pass the time; it’s all about the choices you make and how you
choose to live your lives inside your heads.
If you’re a self-loather and hate your body,
then hell, I don’t know what to say to you?
Nothing, I guess.
The body of a self-loather knows that it’s
hated so it’ll hate in return and not take the pounds off (no matter how much
you may tell others that you exercise but really you cheat at it; then you’re
only cheating yourself).
Nature has a way of finding justice, balance
and a return in any investment. Yes, Sir! If you hate your body then it’s going
to hate you and it’ll show.
In 2007 I was consuming more than ½ of my
daily calories by eating granola and even though I walked four miles per day I
could not shed off the pounds, now I know perfectly well why. Duh.
I’ll write another blog for another day as to
how I lost a grand total of 50 pounds by 2010 and kept it off. Wow, it’s been
two years and I haven’t exercised in four months, with the exception of life
happening which has been a whole lot.
We bought a home, moved, settled-in, we work
a lot (too much), travel, family, friends and hang out time as best as we can
by doing absolutely nothing on weekends (except house work and yard work if it
needs it) because we work too hard during the weekdays.
I eat pizza, bakery goods, ice cream, drink
soda; I eat anything I want and I don’t fluctuate in weight anymore than 6-10
pounds every two weeks which is normal I guess, women’s bodies gain and lose
anywhere between that amount in a single month and once you know that then you
won’t stress about it.
I’ve been a size 10 for two straight years
and well, I like my clothes baggy so I’ll buy a size 12 but my pants look like
balloons on me and so, I have to go back to a size 10. Ha! How wonderful! I
have to add another hole to my belt loop, soon.
At least my body weight no longer fluctuates the
20 pounds I used to from winter to spring, plus a woman’s body is supposed to
gain and lose weight throughout the month, otherwise, what are you dead? We don’t think so. Be happy to gain and lose anywhere
from 5-10 pounds per month because it means that we’re alive and ‘kickin’ it’.
Ha!
Yes, I’ve got chin fat and I love it because
when I’ve been terribly ill to the point where my body can’t keep food down,
especially with chronic ‘Carpal Tunnel Syndrome’ pain; pain causes me to lose my
appetite and well, my little chin fat and my little Buddha tummy fat has
literally saved me from starvation at times.
The body has a way of keeping us alive. Be
grateful for a little body fat. I think a little bit of body fat in women is
not only sexy but also righteously gorgeous; life-to-life not dust-to-dust.
---
--- ---
*) If, one, doesn’t know how to sew or draw,
then, one, isn’t a fashion designer. Period.
No amount of money creates professional artists
because hard work, discipline and a keen eye for aesthetic perfection in
catching mistakes is what makes an artist great, ultimately, otherwise it’s a
whole bunch of hacks pretending to be ‘artist types’ with nothing to back it up
except money and money has nothing to do with becoming a professional artist,
because developed real talent and
skill does. Period.
One can’t be a doctor without knowing the practice
in discipline to medicine, otherwise one, is a hack pretending to be a doctor
and that’s against the law which happens to be the same in the arts. It’s
called social crucifixion to pretend to be a well developed artist without the
work behind it because those who’ve trained towards their 10,000 hours can tell
the difference between the real thing and a hack, thank God.
It’s not about how many years, one, has done
a disciplinary practice; it’s about how many hours, one, has spent towards
10,000 hours of practice and normally it takes:
8 hours of practice per day times 5 days a
week equals 40 hours a week; 40 hours a week times 4 weeks equals 160 hours per
month; 12 months times 160 hours per month equals 1,944 hours of practice per
year; 10,000 hours divided by 1,944 hours per year equals 5.1440329218107 years
(without cheating oneself of eight complete hours of practice per day) and
that’s almost impossible for those who have day jobs unless your job is
something like working in an orchestra and you do get paid to practice your
instrument each and every day for eight hours a day, that’s if you practice
eight hours a day and make it your work, your
career like those of us who are truly in this for the love of the art, not
just to be called artists, but to become true and tried artists; professionals
true to the end. Eat that for Nordic
dinner. Posers.
Do you get my point?
How sweet math truly is.
A hack is hack pretending like they have 10,000 hours of
practice under their belt in their disciplinary art form but really they have
no idea how to begin practicing because they’ve not studied under the Masters
who’ve taught them the rigidity to form and how to break that form, once, one
learns all the rules. Thank God I’m not a hack, rather I’m working away as hard
as I can at my craft.
No, coffee breaks don’t count as practice
time. I learned it the hard way. Only actual time spent practicing counts
towards becoming the real thing. Here we come!!!
If someone who’s young calls themselves an
artist then look at them like they’re a complete liar because they are. To
become a professional artist is much harder than it looks and it takes up way
many more years to become a professional artist than to become a lawyer, a
doctor and an idiot dancing in the wind combined.
Yes, I’ve met my requirement of 10,000 hours
of academic writing but I haven’t met my 10,000 hours of required public blog
writing before I publish my first novel.
I’m almost done with my annual screenplay for
the year, but it’s no good like all the other screenplays I write simply as a
means to keep my literary muscles working strong. No, I don’t show them to the
world because they’re no good to me.
Yes, I’m an expert writer but I have to prove
to the public that and this blog is doing just that. You’re watching me prove
to the world that I’m becoming a public writing expert and no one can take that
away from me. No one.
---
--- ---
*) No, I don’t believe in neither yelling nor
reprimanding other adults in the work place, however I do believe in a
straightforward, stern talk when someone is out of bounds.
---
--- ---
*) Yes, I believe that people like the
Minneapolis and Duluth club ‘curtain-dresser’ and the ‘brick dresser’ around
town and they ought to be hired, contracted and challenged by their clients to
be better than they have been for the past 20 years.
What dressing or designing variety do they
have in their repertoire?
Are these dressers going to keep playing the
same tune, because a musician would be booed off any stage if they kept playing
the same song over-and-over again on stage?
Why does everything look the same with every
contract they touch?
---
--- ---
Oh, do you mean the “Samba” dance? The
Brazilian dance of African origins?
Oh, I get it.
That’s just stupid to crossbreed
weightlifting, jazzercise and ‘Zumba’ exercise, because well, God, that’ll kill
people (literally) quicker than if they just sat around playing board games and
laughed hard amongst loved ones. (I guess, what
you don’t know won’t hurt you.)
---
--- ---
*) Quick
story: In 2009 a cigar fumbled out of my hand and fell to the ground; I
picked it up and put it back into my mouth (yes, I knew very well what I was
doing).
I was challenging two losers to see what
they’d say and do.
One, was a ‘madam-prostitute wanna-be’ and
the other was a ‘politician wanna-be’ (according to his brother, possibly a
senator, as if) and neither were
friends-enough to tell me not to smoke a cigar that had fallen to the ground.
I knew everything
that I needed to know about each one of them; that they were both prostitutes.
A little dirt won’t hurt you but people who
don’t have your back sure will.
---
--- ---
*) My thirteenth lie was in the spring of
2010 when I told a loser that I had been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress
Syndrome, (which I was told by professionals that I don’t have it); I wanted to
test him to see how far that lie would go and it just now got back to me and I
laughed so hard I almost fell over. Oh, what a great laugh to know that people
will spread lies to get one up on another. Oh, my! Don’t make me laugh that
hard.
---
--- ---
*) Even if one is a multi-billionaire, one,
still has to make budgets otherwise one, is lying.
---
--- ---
*) I’ve stalled long enough.
I can’t find my voice to say what I mean to
say.
November 3, 2012
P.S. Yes, please go to the ‘Icehouse’.
Experience it for
yourselves and make up your own minds.
No, I’m not a food critic.
Yes, I’m an Indigenous in
search of decent service in this town.
Even if places around
Minneapolis try to be ‘trendy’, gloomy and hard-asses hang out there it doesn’t
mean that they would know anything about partying like royalty in Vienna, Switzerland,
Florencia, the French Riviera, Barcelona, Costa Rica, Munich, Chicago, Boston,
N.Y.C., L.A., Mexico and the rest of the world. Please.
Yes, I’ve lived amongst
the Japanese and the South Koreans; I know a thing or two about hanging out
with such lovely and amazing people.
Happy Saturday!
Aloha.
I met two of the loveliest gentlemen for parking
valets at an “Eat Street” parking lot last night. If I hadn’t been meeting a friend
then I would’ve hung out with them out back for a while and asked some
questions about them and not gone into the establishment at all.
These men can run any business and successful
enterprises simply because they have all of the right communication skills able
to get them quite far in life, not to mention that they had incredibly
beautiful and genuine smiles. They were human and I wasn’t a dollar bill to
them. Thank God.
They were incredible men; kind and generous
and they were also genuinely humane. Thank you. I shan’t forget you. I’d hire these two men anytime, anywhere
because they sure were top notch. I ran into them at 10:30 P.M. last night and
that’s about as good as the “Icehouse” got and everything else went downhill
from there.
I walked into a restaurant called the
“Icehouse”; (after reading a sign at a backdoor that demanded for patrons to go
around through the Nicolette entrance) (‘Icehouse’ what perfect name for a cold
establishment with bad service); I was immediately bombarded by a man who
displayed way too much authority and a woman with a fake smile who wanted six
bucks out of me for nothing, except stepping through the door and that was the
first clue letting me know that the establishment was hard up for money even if
a live band was playing, especially when it’s a restaurant and not a specific music
venue of sorts.
What made them assume that I wanted to stay
for a band that may or may not be very
good, which often they aren’t in the Twin Cities, sorry guys, everybody already knows that.
Music in Minnesota isn’t as hot as everybody
makes it out to be; people simply ride on a reputation that got them real far
from two decades ago and some of the travelling acts are even worse and charge ‘an
arm and a leg’ at the door; or so people tell me, I don’t go out all that often
and I know perfectly well why.
The man checked my ID like I was a registered
felon and the woman took my money like I was a water fountain of dollar bills;
that was my cue to get the hell out of there and run for the hills because I
wasn’t a human I was a commodity to them both and that was only the beginning.
I met a friend who’s on a strict nutritional
diet.
I didn’t know it until much later into the
night, that the waitress had told him, demanded
him to order food before his party had arrived and he refused to order food
because he wasn’t about to start eating without his party unlike her; he had much better table manners than she did.
It’s a tremendous faux pa to order food before one’s party arrives and he knew this
to be a truth of the ages, while our waitress just wanted the ‘big bucks’. An
uncultured waitress gives away any restaurant any day.
Not only did I arrive more than fashionably
late; I was half an hour running late in meeting my incredible jet setting
friend. He forgave me in his wonderfully kind and gentle demeanor.
By the time I had arrived, the waitress had
been pushing her goods at him like a pimp; which many restaurants in Uptown and Downtown are linked to pimping and
prostitution (I’ve been told this by The People) thus it shows in much of the
services and their attitude towards the patrons.
These types of establishments, to them, the
patron is simply someone who’s there to ‘get laid’, pay up and get the hell
out; I’m not saying this is literally the
case with the ‘Icehouse’ but the waitress held a pimp demeanor from a
trailer park, she knew it and we knew it also; her selling point was the table;
she was so concerned about us ordering or giving up the table, she was quite passive-aggressively rude.
She was obsessed with having the table free
rather than allowing her patrons to relax and have a good time after a long
week of making thousands upon thousands of dollars for the Twin Cities Metro
Area.
A few restaurants in Minneapolis (Uptown / Downtown)
are run like brothels more than restaurants and the ‘word on the street’
(online, e-mail) is that restaurants are run as such because restaurants like these are run by those quite
closely linked to prostitution rings in this town. Yikes. I’m sure that I wouldn’t know. I know what I’m told.
Would you like a glass of wine and a prostitute out back? No,
thank you.
Now, please keep in mind that the ambience at
the ‘Icehouse’ is beautifully put together yet it lacks ‘Je ne sais
quois’ because it looks more like every other early 1990’s downtown ghetto clubs
dressed up in curtains and nothing much else.
The thematic aspect of the
curtains reminds me of “La Bodega”, the new “Muddy Waters”, “Envy” and “Café
and Bar Lurcat” (the types of places where patrons get their teeth kicked-in
for walking through the doors to overpriced food and horrible trendy hipster
service with a bad attitude).
Boy, that early 1990’s curtain
look works for that restaurant dresser, but that’s just it, it’s a warehouse
space with mice running around it like
any other warehouse space; that looks more like other similar establishments
but the locations really aren’t designed, they’re dressed-up in gauze covering
up a wound that won’t stop bleeding. The ‘set-dresser’s’ team got something
right, the lighting, thank you.
This ‘set-dresser’ reminds
me of the “Rose Garden’s” ‘brick-dresser’ in Duluth, Minnesota, whose team lays
down bricks all over town and that’s about it, he dresses-up the streets but
doesn’t really design anything new to give this town hope.
Everything they touch looks
the same, because it works for them but it’s doesn’t mean that it’s any good. Boy who’s running those contracts?
I ordered a single Coca
Cola and my friend ordered water. (Yes, my family has believed in Coca Cola
stock since the 1980’s and we won’t stop because Coca Cola is a timeless
product that tastes so good for those of us who don’t drink and drive.)
By the time I sat down at
our table my friend was so turned off that I could tell he couldn’t order a
single bite.
I didn’t order anything to
eat either.
The waitress came back to
our table to check up on us five times in the span of 20 minutes with the
desperation to get a move on, but what she really meant to say was, ‘order or
get the hell out because there are people standing behind you with way more
money than God’.
I turned back to look at
what she was noticing in other patrons and no, they didn’t have more money than
God much less than what I had in my pockets for cash.
We finally made up our
minds to ‘blow that popsicle stand’ and get the hell out of dodge before we got
sick.
We politely asked for our
ticket and she brought back a piece of paper stating that we owed her $1.89. I
should’ve thrown my leftover Coca Cola at her but I’m too polite for that.
Instead I smiled and placed
$7.00 bucks down as a middle finger to her lack of classy service.
If she hadn’t been so cheap
and charged us $1.89, then I would’ve left a $20.00 on the table and called it
an evening but she wasn’t classy-enough; so
I left on the table what I did; I barely wanted to part with my money not
because I wasn’t prepared to pay but because she left a bad taste in my mouth. Although,
thank goodness she didn’t charge my friend the six bucks for the band because
we left before they finished playing their first song.
I thought about going to
the bar and getting .89 cents exactly in change and leaving her with $1.89.
I shan’t go back to the ‘Icehouse’
again because if anything pisses me off more then it’s having my friends be
made uncomfortable.
Minneapolis needs an
attitude adjustment because the ‘Hipster Adults’ took over the restaurant scene
and they think that they’re inside some ghetto music video more so than getting
a job well done. They don’t get it that their ship sailed away a long time ago
and that they’ve missed it so they act like they’re too good to serve anybody.
I’m being informed that Minneapolis
Hipsters think that they’re too good for their work and so all they can do is
serve with a bad attitude because that’s all they’ve got.
I’m being informed that
“Minnesota Nice” is a misnomer for telling others off.
I’m being informed that
Minnesotans aren’t really nice, much
less genuine, they pretend to be New York City but many haven’t even left the
state so all they can do is piece and paste together what they’ve learned from
magazines. Pity.
Nope. Step back. I’ve got
this one.
I’ve waited amongst the
best in the world.
I’ve cooked amongst the
best in the world.
I’ve dish washed amongst
the best in the world.
I was taught that patrons
aren’t dollar signs and the restaurant industry isn’t a brothel; it’s about
food and service combined which are the most sacred aspects to life placed
together in complete and beautiful dancing unison.
Yes, my Grandfather was
the former President
and Director of The Massachusetts Restaurant Association.
I
know the best-of-the-best of the restaurant industry quite well.
Arrivederci.
Gabriel
P.S. We just ate sirloin and turkey dinner
from “Perkins Restaurant”. Thank you.
I don’t end up getting ill from the Twin
Cities’ Perkins Restaurants.
We don’t get sick from Dairy Queen food and
Perkins Restaurants so we stick to what we know, because some of the trendiest
and organic places in town have left me ‘heaving’ for hours over the…
Yes, bus-boys tell me that if, one, is hated
then the kitchen staff will spit in one’s food, that thought makes me so sad; I
could almost shed a tear but I won’t give you guys the satisfaction.
I can’t imagine being that unprofessional. If
I hated someone then I would show them up with the best of what I’ve got not
the worse. Pity.
I’ll neither spit here upon these pages nor upon
our films.
We make art with love even if you hate my
guts for telling the truth.
Yes, I found out early on that telling the
truth is far more incredible than any lie.
“ ‘You can’t be bought. You can’t have your
ass kissed. You’re not a sellout. That’s their problem with you.’ ” (Thank God
for notes.) I get it but it doesn’t make me feel any better that this town is
made up of sub-par discrimination…
I sometimes hate living in Minnesota.
We believe in Minnesota so much that we
continue to fight for it and bring in money and put it on the map. Sometimes, I
wonder if it’s worth it yet again it must be because here I am challenging
Minnesota to be better than it is.
I’ll keep my chin up because I’m who I am.
---
--- ---
*) The “Gay 90’s” was spectacular for dancing
last night. Thank you for being humane to your patrons. Whatever the owner(s)
is doing they’ve got it right. We had a blast!!!
---
--- ---
*) What are you so angry about?
We’re putting Minnesota on the map and you
know it, we know it and that’s that.
Shove off.
---
--- ---
*) Yes,
everybody’s crazy. I’m crazy. You’re crazy. We’re all crazy.
I’m obsessed with making the bed as soon as I
get up in the mornings, washing the dishes and wearing clean undergarments. Ha!
No, I don’t hallucinate. If I do then I’ll let Eric know as soon as possible.
I’ve pretended to hallucinate (which is the hardest damn performance to
pull off) and I’ve delivered a terrible performance while at it; yet I’ve
gotten myself out of dangerous situations with people that I sensed wished me
harm and death. Ha! Ha! Ha! Nothing scares people like a woman pretending to
have a hallucination. Funny as hell; the look on their faces… Funny as hell… I
tried not to ‘piss’ my pants with laughter.
I get the last laugh.
We’re all animals and as a smart animal when
I’ve felt that I was in dire harm’s way with ‘dark-soul’ people then I’ve
pretended to hallucinate, once or twice in
my lifetime - no more than that, because its hard as hell to pull off; try it sometime when you need it most
and there’s no other way out.
You know when you’re on the brink of being
shoved off a mountain with no other witnesses around. The choice was either to
pretend to hallucinate or to be murdered. Pick one.
I chose to pretend to hallucinate.
Unfortunately I’m not a very good actress but
it did the trick. I ended up scaring the crap out of my opponent more so than
they did me. Once you get into it then you can roll with the role; acting at
its finest. I did learn a thing or two from writing
for the screen. Ha! My coaches would be so proud of me.
Nowadays, I simply get up and leave without
as much as a word if I’m being mistreated. Why would I go through all that
trouble as I get older? Forget it. Either; get out of my way or take the 50/50
chance of going over a cliff with me because I’ve gotten smarter as I get
older.
Peace Out.
November 2, 2012
Happy Friday!
Aloha.
Feliz “El Dia de los Muertos”.
Party!!! Here I come.
(Eric doesn’t like to party with just anyone,
he’s extremely exclusive. Eric’s a snob and I love him for that reason and so
many other reasons. Oh, the complete love-of-my-life is so cool.) Even if one
were a celebrity then Eric would definitely not party with them because they’re
too high maintenance.
Arrivederci.
Gabriel
P.S.
“Quiet on the set! Please!” Floor Directors
across the country have that power and their producers ought to back them up,
otherwise their producers are amateur little kids who don’t know anything about
production value and their audiences.
Indeed, I was a great Floor Director for two
years (others told me so) (thirteen years ago) because I meant business and
when I said, “Quiet on the Set!” that’s exactly what that meant.
“Quiet on the set” means, that, billions of
dollars are about to start streaming through the broadcast airwaves in the form
of a ‘public service’ called daily news backed up by advertisers. Thank you
very much. I’m not an idiot; I know exactly how the corporate mass media
industry works and I take it quite seriously because I care.
If television doesn’t survive like the radio
then guess what?; an entire industry is out of a job and I analyze it quite; so
that it may survive going into the 21st century; yet again it may
not at the train wreck speed that its heading with its ‘amateur hour’ little
kids and yes, ‘video killed the radio
star’; what will kill the video star?
I know what’s what and that’s that. Please. I’ve
been around the block a few times and that’s why I get paid the big bucks to
analyze and you don’t.
One would think that you guys have cheese
holes for brains.
*) Now, when there’s background noise over
the broadcast airwaves transmitting in the form of national television news,
then it leads one to believe that the entire production team has no respect for
their guests, Televisions hosts, their advertisers and their audiences. Period.
I worked in live television broadcast news and
I know exactly how it works.
I was a pro at floor directing and that’s
what gives me experience to write about it.
Background noise is a turn off to any audience.
Background noise is no different than a man who can’t give any female an
orgasm but goes around having sex anyway even though he’s horrible at it with
his small pecker and doesn’t satisfy (did that vulgarity get through to you
finally?).
I hate writing vulgarities but it seems to wake you up.
Yes,
orgasms matter as much as background noise does over broadcast airwaves; just
because you refuse to acknowledge it, it doesn’t mean that a small penis isn’t
a distraction to an orgasm. What a turn off.
Audiences hate background noise, especially
our elderly and people trying to concentrate on one thing instead of the
pretending myth of multi-tasking. What a lie.
Do you know why background noise leads one to
believe that newsrooms are disrespectful to their product in production value,
their advertisers and their audiences, not to mention their hosts who get paid
millions to do a job well done?
First, it leads one to believe that newsrooms
don’t care about their product in high production value because background
noise is a passive-aggressive way to say that producers and executives don’t
make enough money for the stations to build walls between the sets and the
cheap cubicles in the backdrop to create a sound barrier and give production
value a boost.
Two, it leads one to believe that amateur
newsroom personnel don’t get paid much as way of salaries, thus their only way
to fulfill their deep career hole is to sound important with phones ringing and
background talk about nothing. It doesn’t. Background noise makes any producer
seem as though they have no control over their newsroom-sets, much less their
personnel and that says a lot more about the executives than not. (Now, live
sound-coverage is quite different from sound-set coverage.)
Three, forget it. What’s the point in explaining it to you?
I already get paid.
I’ve got a day of rest. See you.
Why explain subtle complexities to a world
that doesn’t give a crap about their products in production value.
I’ve got somewhere to be.
If you’ll excuse me.
---
--- ---
*) Who’s “Glenn Beck?” Why do people hate him
so much? I’m sure that I wouldn’t know.
---
--- ---
*) Who’s the “Colbert Report?” I’m sure that I wouldn’t know.
It came up in conversation again this week
and well, I’ve been meaning to research it for years, but I have thousands of
other more important aspects of mass media to research as of now, maybe in a
decade or so I’ll get around to it.
People keep telling me that this show’s not
worth watching because it’s highly sarcastic and not funny and that’s about it.
I don’t know. Yes, seriously. I have no idea.
I’ve not gone out of my way to see this piece
of satirical media which I guess that their personnel don’t even get paid
healthcare benefits, what a joke. Yep.
People who work for the show complain about
the show and that gets real far, at least all the way back to Minnesota. I
wouldn’t know. I don’t care about the show’s gossiping and complaining
personnel. (I’m not friends nor do I speak to anyone from the show. Let that be
known for the record. There’re bridges that may not be mended for as long as
breath of life exists.) I can’t help it
that I can hear whispers.
---
--- ---
*) Take it away Mr. Bill Maher. Break a leg.
Good luck!
To answer your questions; No, I don’t have a
crush on Mr. Maher.
How can a woman have a crush on a man that
she doesn’t even know what he smells like? Please.
You guys sure are wishful weirdoes.
If a person is on television and even if they
are as 3-D as possible, a woman is so much more complex than looking at a man
over the airwaves. Please.
It’s like saying; a beautiful flower fell
into a crush with the sun’s shadow.
Are you crazy?
It’s impossible for a flower to fall into a
crush with the sun’s shadow. A flower needs the real thing; photosynthesis or
forget it. A flower may not fall for any shadows or their darkness otherwise
it’s her demise.
Naturally she knows this to be a truth of the
ages.
She may only seek light and normally light
has a smell and she knows what that is. Have you ever stepped out into the bright
sunlight and you could smell… Isn’t that a righteously beautiful smell? I love
that smell. Yes, for me it comes down to smells. If I can’t smell something or
somebody then I don’t have a direct response to anything.
I can enjoy, give thanks to, be completely
enraptured and grateful for what Television people do for humanity but that’s
as far as it goes because life has the smell of the living not Television static.
Ha!
*) Oh, Haiti, we love you, we pray for your
Gods to take care of you and your land.
*) “Mockingbird Lane” is my new favorite
one-hour mass media television show. Get going! Does any head of the network not know when they have a gem on their hands? I
guess it’s been cancelled. What a pity! We were so looking forward to this
great and imaginative piece of writing and their incredible thespians for
weekend entertainment. Yeah! Go “Mockingbird Lane”! We’ll miss you.
*) I’ve got absolutely nothing planned for
today and tonight is another story if we don’t first crack open the Champagne at
home; otherwise, game over and we’ll sit around doing absolutely nothing.
*) R.I.P. Oh, dear Kettle River your veterans
will be missed no matter how crabby our veterans can be especially when they’ve
served time in a prison camp. We can all understand why our veterans are
crabby. You’re in our prayers as you bury one of our own today.
*) To our dear East Coast; we pray and think
of you as the weeks and months of adversity lay before you. Our Minnesota’s
First Responders are doing everything they can for you. Thank you. I’m grateful
that you’re alive and you made it through this storm!
*) Now, if you’ll excuse me; I have other
aspects of life I’d like to accomplish today.
*) No, I refuse to file for e-mail
bankruptcy. Too many of you as angry as you may be with my writings you seem to
have earnest questions about life and that’s worth more than the weight in gold
and some of you keep telling me to keep going and don’t look back so I won’t.
*) I’m wishing you an amazing weekend full of
respect, love and kindness. We’re so lucky to unconditionally love and to be
unconditionally loved in return.
Peace.
November 1, 2012
Happy Thursday!
Aloha.
October 31, 2012
P.S. No, Chrysler isn’t moving production to
China from Ohio.
Does that answer your questions?
The Romney advertisements about Jeep are a
complete lie.
Let’s put it to rest. Nobody panic.
Yes, I had to do some research and make some
calls today and no, Chrysler’s staying put in America.
*) Thanks for asking me to research it and
trusting my information, even though I’m not a journalist, a reporter, a
politician nor any type of expert in
those fields nor do I pretend to be any of those.
Yes, as a matter of fact I’m a real poet and in Latin America that’s
the highest office one can hold, however, in America it doesn’t mean anything
because our young are illiterate and they wouldn’t know the American National
Anthem by heart even if you asked.
*) No, I’ve not thrown a punch in my life,
not yet. I’ve restrained myself from doing so, but it doesn’t mean that I
haven’t been taught how to.
*) No, I
personally hold absolutely nothing against Mr. Chris Kluwe.
I don’t know anything about him nor do I
pretend to; and as you can see I’m not going out of my way to do so. Please.
I think that Mr. Kluwe is a great Vikings
punter. Thank you.
Now, when Mr. Kluwe so much as decides to
allow his literary thoughts to be known, then he’s entered the serious literary
realm ‘in-field’ and writers take that quite as seriously as football players
do their game. Now, play ball! Cheers.
Peace. I get it, football fans take their
players quite seriously and so do I.
I’m on your side, damn it!
I love Minnesota in ways that you’ll never
know here upon the page.
I don’t have to prove anything to you because
here it is in black ink.
---
--- ---
Happy Wednesday!
Aloha.
Happy Halloween!
I’ve fallen in love with horror flicks.
Yes, our East Coast family is safe and sound.
Yes, they’re communicating online. Thank you.
---
--- ---
Are you crazy?
I love tweed clothing, especially on men.
I simply hate that when anyone wears tweed on
television; then they look like ‘ghosts’ because the interlacing technology on
television can’t keep up with the tweed lines in the clothing material.
Any television producer who knows how to do
their job, well-enough will tell you that people look awful in tweed over the
air waves.
Any wardrobe personnel who knows how-to-do
their job, well-enough wouldn’t dress anyone in tweed especially when dealing
with interlacing. The tech’s not good enough yet.
It’s only because I care.
---
--- ---
Are you crazy?
If any producer throws any newspaper reporters
to the wolves then they’ll get eaten alive. I guarantee it.
If a reporter has no experience in front of
the camera and doesn’t understand that sound checks ought to be involved in any
production, speaking corrections must be made, pacing and timing are of vital
importance and ‘um’ is a short form of amateurs then that’s an idiot editor or
producer who doesn’t care about their product or production value and either
ought to be yelled-at or sacked on the spot.
It’s any producer’s fault when production
value diminishes and their team becomes a laughing stock around town.
It’s only because I care.
---
--- ---
*) I like Mr. Charlie Rose just fine and some
of his ‘talking-head’ points in the past while anchoring the CBS morning show.
I thought that the CBS morning show was going
to follow Charlie Rose’s PBS show-format of fully developed journalistic
discussions and incredible reporting. I guessed wrong.
Now, Mr. Rose’s producers’ ‘talking-head’
team is creating more damage than educational value to the society because all
they care about is selling products over already bought airwaves. Shame. Pity.
It seems as though Mr. Rose’s producers have
turned their backs on real journalistic conversations and reporting when they
jumped-ship to the CBS morning show. What a pity.
I don’t trust Charlie Rose’s producers, anymore and their team of
Caucasian nitwitted ‘talking-head’ women, not at all; and it’s not Mr. Rose’s fault;
it’s his producers’ fault for placing him in danger alongside his road-kill
co-hosts whom ‘nobody’ seems to trust these female talking-heads (whatever
their names are) as far as anybody can throw them.
What did Charlie Rose do?
Who ate him alive?
Why did Charlie Rose get thrown to the
wolves?
Who hates Charlie Rose so much as to use him
to sell products and nothing more?
Our hero looks more like he’s been dragged
through the mud by some idiotic executive telling him; “more shallow, more
shallow, sell products”.
Doesn’t CBS know that they have a gem
(Charlie Rose) on their hands?
Obviously they don’t.
I simply hate the CBS morning show, not that my opinion matters a lick.
It became a hack’s game and that ships gone
down with Charlie Rose in it; simply because most people I listen to speak
about how they hate Charlie Rose’s Caucasian female co-hosts.
It seems that people’s main complaints are
that the female co-hosts (whatever their names are) only care about their hair
and makeup (yep) while they can’t seem to take off those damn smirks off their
faces even when they’re ‘talking-heads’ about the most horrible things in the
world like war, poverty and death.
Some Americans feel that these female ‘talking
heads’ (whatever their names are) are making fun of the viewers.
I don’t blame people for hating the CBS
morning show. They prefer the Today show over-and-over again, yet they hate the
Today show for very different reasons.
Most people don’t mind Gayle King although
she makes some quite insensitive cultural remarks because she’s clueless, yet
the public loathes the other women more so, who look like they love to give the
Americans a middle finger along with their morning coffee. Wow.
When the Americans hate then they sure do
hate.
I’ve quit watching the CBS morning show all
together because my Elders can’t stand watching ‘those women’ and neither can I,
once they pointed it out to me. It’s not just me, its entire communities of
Scandinavians in their 70’s, 80’s, and 90’s. Funny.
It’s only because I care.
---
--- ---
*) When a shallow and idiotic television
‘talking-head’ mentions their friends by name over Television airwaves (the
airwaves don’t even belong to talking-heads), then their producers come across
as pathetic and lonely just like the talking-heads do because they know very
well that they’re abusing the airwaves for the purpose of making themselves
seem like something special rather than reporting for the benefit of the
general public. Careful. A talking-head can, not only make themselves seem pathetic and lonely but also their
producers come across as such and that can only mean one thing; that their jobs
are constantly on the line.
When talking-heads give away the names of
their friends and families, then ‘we’ as a general public understand that these
idiots are lonely because the more they try to prove and convince the rest of
us that they’re not alone then the more pathetic they come across to the world.
Talking-heads end up proving that they surely are at the bottom of the journalistic
totem pole of the literary ‘slush pile’. Careful, people catch onto so much
more than television ‘plastic heads’ realize.
It’s only because I care.
---
--- ---
*) If one isn’t going to write the truth then
get the hell out of the literary arena.
Do you know why a hack can place the world at
peril?
A hack can place the world at peril because
then the future won’t know what to believe about our place in history. Period.
The future will get confused about us and
they’ll get the impression that we didn’t even know how to wipe our own asses
and that’s the truth when we allow
hacks to write our history for us; that’s why Mayan scribes have survived all
these ages, to write about the truth and not get bought off by a mass corporate
machine because then man doesn’t have a real shot at getting into the pages of
history. Yikes.
Are we going to go down in the history books
or are we going to vanish for all time like the Egyptians and their burning libraries?
Writing is sacred and it’s record keeping so
if you don’t get that through your thick skulls then you’re a hack and ought to
be thrown to the wolves who’ll devour you.
It’s only because I care.
---
--- ---
Peace.
(You can think whatever the hell you want
about me; you don’t know me; you’ve never had the chance to meet me. You can
even throw me to the wolves if you’d like, but I hate to burst your bubbles,
because I’ve made friends with wolves out in the woods and they’re gorgeous and
incredible animals. They’ll save your lives if they know that you’re on their
side. Why wouldn’t a bull’s heart and an eagle’s eye make friends with the
wolves? Please. You wouldn’t know how to make friends with fire ants even if
you had the chance.)
Arrivederci.
Gabriel
P.S. (Only my deceased Grandmother called me
“Gabriela” otherwise...)
*) If you’ve made a million dollars or more
in your lifetime then you’ve become a part of the ‘establishment’ and can’t
complain about the establishment any longer because you’re the establishment
now. So shut up and get real, the strong help out the weak.
October 30, 2012
Happy Tuesday!
Aloha.
To our dearest friends, their families and
their friends in Stonington, Connecticut, we think of you and pray for you.
Thank you for that incredible Easter all those years ago. I shan’t forget it. I
looked like a little punk in those days and turned out to be an upstanding
citizen of the world because of your endearing influence. I shan’t forget you,
your Grandmothers; our dearest beautiful humans.
To our family, their family and friends in
SoHo, Manhattan and New Jersey and Washington D.C., we love you and think of
you; we’ve prayed for your safety throughout the days; thank the Gods for
online communication.
To our friends in Philadelphia and Atlantic
City, we’ve prayed for your safety, your well being and security.
What continuously amazes me about our dearest
and truest friends and family is that they’re strong, intelligent and able to
safeguard themselves against the natural elements.
Our dear East Coast family, friends and
beloved ones; we’re praying for you. We love you!!! We hope for your safety.
Oh, Manhattan!
With love,
Gabriel
P.S. Last night at about 7:06 P.M. on the
corner of S. Lyndale Avenue and Hennepin Avenue a young nitwitted Caucasian woman
of about twenty-one to twenty-three years of age; with long blonde hair; yelled
at me from her car to roll down my car window while stopped at a red light.
I waved at her to go away.
She persisted that I roll down my window, so
I did, hesitantly.
I pressed the button with disgust on my face
and the look said, ‘please don’t bother me, I pay my taxes and I don’t get
myself into any trouble.’
“Where’s the ‘Spaghetti Factory’?” She demanded
in a high squeaky voice.
(“The Old Spaghetti Factory” is a well known
Restaurant here in town.)
I haven’t dined there in about 17 years.
“On Washington Avenue.” I answered.
She leaned out as far as she could from her ‘Mommy’
and ‘Daddy’s’ town car window with her fancy cell phone in her one hand while
she rested it on the wheel.
“Please, my cell phone died and I don’t know
how to get there.” She gave me a pathetic look.
I could barely believe that her fancy town
car didn’t have some form of GPS system installed, but, okay, whatever. The
little White girl was looking for some attention.
“Well, just keep going on Hennepin and then
simply take a right on Washington.”
“I don’t know where anything is!” She
proclaimed. ‘Then stay home.’ I thought.
“Do you know where the ice rink is?” I asked
her.
“No, I’m so lost.” Stated, the little nitwitted
voice, that couldn’t find; her way around.
Now, as a woman of color, I’ve learned to
find my way around even if it takes me all day and all night, because the likes
of this young Caucasian woman are the likes who’ve told me to ‘go fuck yourself,
nigger’, but when these little girls are lost and they want their needs fulfilled then they become victims and useless
to their brains.
The more I listened to her the less I liked
her.
‘Don’t ever hire her for anything.’ My brain
thought to itself.
I know twenty-something year olds,
Caucasians, who run successful companies, successful enterprises and empires
while this little girl couldn’t find her way out of a brown paper bag even if
she wanted to.
“Do you have time to take me there?”
(I just about fell over with her
impertinence.) She was a child. She was an idiot. She was entitled. She
was…everything that a man ought not to touch.
How on earth did she become any stranger’s
problem, only God knows?
I wanted to club her; once, just, one-good-one
over the head for her sheer stupidity.
How dare she suddenly make herself my child?
I hated her guts and her entire line of
ancestors before her.
It’s one thing to ask a stranger for
directions and it’s quite another to make oneself the problem of another. They
know this to be true also. These idiotic young people know that they’re nothing
but an inconvenience to other American adults.
She asked me to take her to her destination
because my time wasn’t as valuable as hers. She was the greatest racist and the
most useless woman I’d ever encountered.
I looked at the clock and agreed to take her
there because I couldn’t leave her stupidity to the streets. If I was going to
take her there then she needed to follow my Bostonian driving through downtown and
if she could keep up then fine and if not, then dust.
“Yes, I’ll make time.” I told her in a stern
voice.
I was expected to be somewhere at 7:30 P.M.
She didn’t even thank me. I hated her even more so for being so spoilt and
gutless.
I drove to “The Old Spaghetti Factory” and
wished that she slightly choked on her spaghetti, but not enough to kill her,
only enough to make her thankful for life.
What’s wrong with Suburban, Minneapolis,
Metro Area Caucasian young women in their twenties who act like the world is
their parents, walk around with poop in their pants and in dire need of a pacifier?
If you can’t get your asses around town then
don’t leave the barnyard.
Other adults will remember your faces and
decide not to hire you in the future for your imposing attitudes like the world
owes them something when the world doesn’t owe them shit.
I took her to her destination because she was
pathetic and nothing more and nothing less. Young White women must really think
that their shit doesn’t stink.
Yes, it’s been scientifically proven that all
humans are racists, get over yourselves.
*) Why is it that ‘Mommy’ and ‘Daddy’s’
twenty-something year olds of Edina, Minnesota like to snort enough cocaine to kill a small horse?
It’s probably because ‘Mommy’ and ‘Daddy’
fund their addictions. How painful.
Way to go ‘Mommy’ and ‘Daddy’s’ of Edina,
your twenty-one through twenty-nine year olds are getting a painful reputation
around town and no one wants to hire them, much less hang out with them unless
they ‘put out’ (have sex) with African-American pimps and the Euro-trash of the
club scene. Yikes. Run!
*) Newspaper Royalty told me that blogs are
simply a true testament of any writer’s ‘alter-egos’. How right she was.
My writing ‘alter-ego’ is an old, 100% Finn,
curmudgeon with the ‘heart of gold’ because that’s what my Northern Minnesota,
Duluth, Park Point Grandfather was and I loved him for his brutal honesty and
incredible unconditional love even when he acted crabby and forthcoming with
barking orders. Ha!
My Grandfather was highly regarded by
thousands of people in Northern Minnesota. People are still telling stories of
his kindness throughout the land. I’m so proud to have known this man and to
have been his Granddaughter.
October 30, 2012
1 Writer
1 Producer
“Bohemian Rhapsody”
Written by Freddie Mercury.
Sung by Freddie Mercury.
Lyrics
Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide
No escape from reality
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see
I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy
Because I'm easy come, easy go
Little high, little low
Any way the wind blows, doesn't really matter
to me, to me
Mama, just killed a man
Put a gun against his head
Pulled my trigger, now he's dead
Mama, life had just begun
But now I've gone and thrown it all away
Mama, ooo
Didn't mean to make you cry
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow
Carry on, carry on, as if nothing really
matters
Too late, my time has come
Sends shivers down my spine
Body's aching all the time
Goodbye everybody - I've got to go
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth
Mama, ooo - (any way the wind blows)
I don't want to die
I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all
I see a little silhouetto of a man
Scaramouch, scaramouch will you do the
fandango
Thunderbolt and lightning - very very
frightening me
Gallileo, Gallileo,
Gallileo, Gallileo,
Gallileo Figaro - magnifico
I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me
He's just a poor boy from a poor family
Spare him his life from this monstrosity
Easy come easy go - will you let me go
Bismillah! No - we will not let you go - let
him go
Bismillah! We will not let you go - let him
go
Bismillah! We will not let you go - let me go
Will not let you go - let me go (never)
Never let you go - let me go
Never let me go - ooo
No, no, no, no, no, no, no -
Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia let me go
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me
for me
for me
So you think you can stop me and spit in my
eye
So you think you can love me and leave me to
die
Oh baby - can't do this to me baby
Just gotta get out - just gotta get right
outta here
Ooh yeah, ooh yeah
Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
Nothing really matters
Nothing really matters to me
Any way the wind blows...
---
--- ---
6 Writers
4 Producers
"Run The World (Girls)"
By Beyonce Knowles (kind of)
Girls, we run this motha (yeah!) [x4]
GIRLS!
[Chorus:]
Who
run the world? Girls! [x4]
Who
run this motha? Girls! [x4]
Who
run the world? Girls! [x4]
[Verse 1:]
Some
of them men think they freak this like we do
But no
they don't
Make
your check come at they neck,
Disrespect us no they won't
Boy don't even try to touch this
Boy
this beat is crazy
This
is how they made me
Houston Texas baby
This
goes out to all my girls
That's
in the club rocking the latest
Who
will buy it for themselves and get more money later
I
think I need a barber
None
of these niggas can fade me
I'm so
good with this,
I
remind you I'm so hood with this
Boy
I'm just playing
Come
here baby
Hope
you still like me
F- you
pay me
My persuasion can build a nation
Endless power, with our love we can devour
You'll
do anything for me
[Chorus:]
Who
run the world? Girls! [x4]
Who
run this motha? Girls! [x4]
Who
run the world? Girls! [x4]
[Verse 2:]
It's
hot up in here
DJ
don't be scared to run this, run this back
I'm
reppin' for the girls who taking over the world
Help
me raise a glass for the college grads
41 rollin' to let you know what time it is,
check
You
can't hold me
I work
my 9 to 5, better cut my check
This
goes out to all the women getting it in,
You're
on your grind
To
other men that respect what I do
Please
accept my shine
Boy I
know you love it
How
we're smart enough to make these millions
Strong
enough to bear the children
Then
get back to business
See,
you better not play me
Oh,
come here baby
Hope
you still like me
F- you
hate me
My persuasion can build a nation
Endless
power
With
our love we can devour
You'll
do anything for me
[Chorus:]
Who
run the world? Girls! [x4]
Who
run this motha? Girls! [x4]
Who
run the world? Girls! [x4]
Who are we? What we run? The world (who run
this motha, yeah)
Who
are we? What we run? The world (who run this motha, yeah)
Who
are we? What do we run? We run the world! (who run this motha, yeah)
Who
are we? What we run? We run the world
Who
run the world? Girls
---
--- ---
Pitiful.
---
--- ---
____________________________________________
Happy Tuesday!
Aloha.
Just saying; don’t take it too literal.
I’m an auntie to 26 nephews and nieces and I
love them all.
I love children; I just don’t love your children in our backyard.
*) We’re finding out that our Robbinsdale neighbors
to our backyard are rather rude, disrespectful and somewhat ‘ghetto’ when it
comes to their children running all over our backyard when they’ve been asked
not to. How disrespectful.
This is the fourth time that I found our
neighbor’s children playing in our backyard.
Our neighbors will not respect our request to
keep their children out of our backyard because frankly no one’s keeping an eye
on those children nor does anybody care what the children do.
I don’t wish to call the Robbinsdale cops however
we’ve been advised by an attorney that if those lovely children fall and hurt
themselves on our property then it’ll become our liability and like hell when their parents don’t watch over them nor follow a
simple request to keep them out of our yard. Those children’s parents can’t
seem to get it through their thick skulls to keep their children out of our
backyard. Sometimes, I hate living in Robbinsdale. I just do.
Let it be known for the record that this is
the fourth time that I’ve had to ask the children to vacate our yard since
August 1, 2012.
At least in Uptown our neighbors respected
our yard, in Robbinsdale our neighbors just want to give us the middle finger
and well, guess what, we own this land. Careful. The cops will side with us
faster than with renters.
Keep your damn kids and pit bull dog out of
our yard and stay out!
---
--- ---
*) Yes, I do believe that Elizabeth Taylor
was the most beautiful Caucasian woman.
*) No, I don’t literally want to take to a
stage. Please.
--- --- ---
I thought that mass media, newspapers and television
weren’t supposed to endorse politicians. Isn’t a political endorsement
considered a ‘conflict of interest?’
---
--- ---
P.S. Oh, please don’t make me laugh that
hard. Haters!
---
--- ---
A ‘Hip Pop’ Prose Poem:
Don’t act like I don’t know.
Like I don’t know; that your favorite Minneapolis rapper used
to deal cocaine out of the Arts High School parking lot creating chaos and
self-hatred amongst our artist types.
Like I don’t know what it’s like to starve.
Pretending like I don’t know what it’s like
to bring down an entire empire to its knees with one stroke of lyrical poetry.
Like I don’t know what it’s like to rhyme
while you pretend like freedom belongs to you.
What would you know about freedom?
You’ve never fought a jungle monkey on your
back.
What would you know about freedom, when all
you get is freebees, because your broke asses can’t even afford your own
concert tickets.
Do you really think that a writer who’s been
taught by the Masters doesn’t know a thing or two about squaring off. You must
be dreaming with an I-N-G. Learn how to spell ‘them words’.
Like I don’t know that your favorite American
pass time is to follow hacks and lick their balls while you get down on your knees
hoping for a backstage pass.
Like I don’t know what it’s like to hang onto
to love and turn away from hate.
Like I don’t know what it means to be at war.
Dog, you must have a hole inside your head.
Get that shit checked before it spreads all
over your face like a venereal disease.
Piss all over your pretty little faces.
Like you’d know how to take a punch to the
face like a woman and give one back like a man.
What. Do you think that I don’t know that
your Ma still washes your clothes?
A poet knows about rap and rhyme more so than
any poser ever would.
Yes, we even live here, ‘mathafuckas’ and that’s what gives us an
edge over you who come here like you own the town hoping to sale tickets while
slipping out the backdoor and never taking any responsibility. Please. Don’t
bore me with that soliloquy. We live here and we own this town, because the
last time I heard about you; you vomited all over the front of your girl’s
dick.
What contribution?
Running around, trying to get laid by
eighteen year olds.
You wouldn’t know a woman even if she stared
you down in the face.
A poet’s fought alongside The People knowing
very well the Constitution of the United States of America by heart and that’s
what licks you. You wouldn’t know how the American government works even if
someone quizzed you.
No, rhyming has nothing to do with rhymes.
Any old fool can rhyme; “fool’s a stool, not cool,
go to school.” Please.
Your problem is that you hate everything about
yourselves and that’s what gets in your way.
Keep snorting that cocaine up your nose;
While I have a great time bowling with
sixty-five year olds, ‘Yo’.
You’re afraid and that’s why you don’t know
what power really is.
Like hell if I don’t know the truth about you
all.
You hate me because I’m not like you and I
don’t want to be you; what you don’t seem
to understand is that I’m at the head of the pack. I’m hip hop. I’m the
goddamn curve and what I say goes, foe (not literally).
You hate me, because I can tell you the truth
about yourselves, in one quick flash of your whipping necks directly to your
faces and not behind your backs while you scratch each other’s balls and grow
old with ‘skanks’ holding
their brooms waiting backstage to give you a quick one up the ass. How does it
feel to go bald under the spotlights?
The only reason I haven’t taken to a stage
and shut it down is because I’ve lost my voice (it got taken away) and when I
find it again I can make more money than all ‘ye all.
A poet throws rhymes back-and-forth because
we know the suffering of The People while you run around posing for pictures.
Ha!
I’m just getting warmed up.
Get the hell off my back because it was
wildlife that taught me to fight not some poser with piss running down his leg
and somebody else’s bareback.
Peace out.
Gabriel
---
--- ---
P.S. Don’t bother me again.
Why you got to be like that?
Fighting for boys who hate your guts?
Fighting for boys who only see you as dollar
signs?
Like hell if I don’t know what goes down in
this town.
What, do you think?
That The People don’t whisper about you?
It ain’t pretty what’s been said around town,
about all ‘ye all with cocaine smeared across your faces and sperm between
teenage fences.
They’ll buy your records to pass the time,
but they hate your guts even when they lie.
What do you think?
That rhyming is a boys’ club waiting for the
sky to fall.
Think again.
My friends keep you in business because well,
dust-to-dust you shall.
You don’t know anything.
Except to pretend and it’s the writing on the
wall that gives it away when you lie.
It’s coming to get you; the grave and that’s
as far as you’ll go.
(They
said, that she said, that they said, that he said that you’re a rapist.
Damn why do they have to hate you so. I’m fighting for your backs and you don’t
even know that.)
I live by a code of honor that states: that
we must keep our enemies alive even if we hate them because hate takes up as much energy as love, so
if I hate you then I must love you and I don’t want to, but my private schooled
mind, believes in love above gossip.
I don’t believe that you raped anyone yet
again I don’t believe much of what you say.
No, I don’t buy your records.
No, I don’t care what you sing about.
I just don’t care enough to make you any type
of money.
The last time I checked;
I left you back in 1996 at my school parking
lot selling cocaine.
Oh, yeah and you blew me off in 2007.
That’s not men, those are little boys.
This ship sailed a long time ago.
If we wanted to make real-money; out-of-you then we would’ve bought up your
little enterprise downright from under your cocaine nose, but I hear it isn’t
worth much; not real money anyway; not enough to sit at the table with the big
wigs, because you smell of piss.
I’ve stared down at the barrel of a gun, what
about you?
Welcome to Gary Indiana.
Those men would eat your balls for lunch and
dinner and feed them to you.
Pattow!
---
--- --- ---
--- ---
No, don’t
“pretend to know everything” because it makes you a douchebag trying to lick your own balls and that’s just
not a pretty sight in any man.
How about “I don’t know”. At least we’ll have
a real chance at the truth; otherwise, it’s no different than watching a man
masturbate while he begs a woman to watch.
Hip Hop’s overrated because most rappers only
make around two-hundred thousand in the first week of their record sales and
then the sales drop right off, not to mention that most of that goes towards
30%-50% of taxes, agent, management, label, and entourage.
If a rapper is lucky then they’ll walk away
with at least twenty to thirty thousand, annual-income in their pockets, thus
they’re a ‘working stiff’ like anybody else. Nothing special and unfortunately
those suckers have to pretend to be cool
because that’s all they’ve got, a ‘club scene’ that ultimate hates their guts.
Pitiful. Scene.
Hip Hop’s douchebags normally are pissed off
‘assholes’, who, drive around in fifty thousand dollar cars and live in trailer
trash parks.
Those boys
are pissed off that they don’t know what a million dollars looks like; much
less ever held a million dollars, yet if
they did; then they’d hate themselves for becoming the establishment; while
that’s all they’ve ever wanted to be.
They pretend to know what that even means.
They don’t know, because the ghetto keeps calling their names. They don’t even
wash their clothes before they go on stage. They’re grubby as the day they were
born in some dirty hospital.
If one has organ damage then that’s normally
a sign of abusing one’s system, normally attributed to sniffing glue. Gross.
Careful, as to whom you find to be cool, when
their peckers are about to fall off.
Aloha.
Gabriel
Nope, step the f*** back. I already know what
eighty million dollars looks like.
*) Newspaper Royalty told me (at a party
tonight) (Sunday, October 28th) not to buy into any of these idiots
running around pretending like they know
everything except for the smell of their own farts, especially
talking-heads and rappers (hip-hop) falls into that category. Ha! Ha! Ha!
October 29, 2012
A quote from the 1997 film Good Will Hunting:
~ Why
shouldn't I work for the N.S.A.... that's a tough one. But I'll take a shot.
Say I'm working at N.S.A. and somebody puts a code on my desk, something no one
else can break. Maybe I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I'm real
happy with myself, 'cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the
location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East, and once they
have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels were hidin'- fifteen
hundred people that I never met, never had no problem with get killed. Now the
politicians are sayin', oh, "Send in the marines to secure the area"
'cause they don't give a shit. It won't be their kid over there, gettin' shot,
just like it wasn't them when their number got called, 'cause they were pullin'
a tour in the National Guard. It'll be some kid from Southie over there, takin'
shrapnel in the ass; he comes back to find that the plant he used to work at
got exported to the country he just got back from, and the guy who put the
shrapnel in his ass got his old job, 'cause he'll work for fifteen cents a day
and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile he realizes the only reason he was over there
in the first place was so that we could install a government that would sell us
oil at a good price, and of course the oil companies use the little skirmish
over there to scare up domestic oil prices- a cute little ancillary benefit for
them, but it ain't helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon. They're takin' their
sweet time bringin' the oil back, o' course, maybe they even took the liberty
of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martinis an' fuckin' play
slalom with the icebergs; it ain't too long 'til he hits one, spills the oil
and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic. So now my buddy's outta work,
he can't afford to drive, so he's walkin' to the fuckin' job interviews, which
sucks 'cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids, and
meanwhile he's starvin' 'cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat, the
only blue plate special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker
State. So what did I think? I'm holdin' out for somethin' better. I figure fuck
it, while I'm at it, why not just shoot my buddy, take his job, give it to his
sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash
pipe and join the National Guard? I could be elected President. ~
Happy Monday!
Aloha.
Why so much voter suppression?
Yes, the official Presidential Election is
Tuesday, November 6, 2012. Period.
---
--- ---
Nuestros queridos Latinos hermosos e
increíbles, ten en cuenta que la
fecha de votación oficial es:
Martes, Noviembre 6, 2012.
Recuerde que la retórica gobernador de Texas, Mitt Romney ha sido la de construir
un muro entre los Estados Unidos
y la frontera Mexicana, por lo que, le guste Michele
Bachmann puede electricute
los Mexicanos. Gross.
Estos humanos dementes y su retórica es matar a los Latinos porque odian a la
humanidad. Como escritor y poeta
Insto a nuestros Latinos a obtener a los republicanos del Congreso. Recuerde que
el voto republicano como Latino
no te hace especial, tiene un tonto porque los
republicanos temen que el voto Latino
aún lo necesitan.
Con Amor:
Mrs. Gabriela de la Holm
P.S. I think that both Co-hosts Joe
Scarborough and Mika Brzezinski of
“Morning Joe” on MSNBC are equally rude, annoying and ghastly thus I’ve quit
watching that show altogether, even for two minutes per day. (If indeed the
show is scripted to be so hateful then ‘shame on both their houses’ and the
producer(s) can go to hell.)
*) I’ve quit watching CNN
altogether. I don’t miss it. I watch MSNBC.
*) FOX, I wipe my feet on
that…
*) Yes, "The Sweet
Spot" with A.O. Scott and David Carr is some of my favorite video on-line
media.
*) Yes, “Coast to Coast”
with George Noory A.K.A. “Georgie” in our home is one of my favorite mass media
shows.
*) No, I don’t believe in
mailing out my voting ballot. No way! Why
would I?
October 27, 2012
Happy Saturday!
Aloha.
Happy anti-bullying month!
---
--- ---
Quickly now; I’ve got a life to live.
I’ve got absolutely nothing planned for today
but to relax! Yeah!
To answer your questions;
No, ‘popularity’ isn’t the most important
aspect of community; because there’re other cards that trumps shallow
‘popularity’ when it comes to making money in the future; like being born into a family with a real ‘silver spoon in one’s
mouth’ and not a bi-product of a butcher grandfather who did well for himself
and passed on the fruits of his labor to spoilt grandchildren, who, have no
concept of what the one dollar bill represents and still smell like their
grandfather’s butcher shop even though they pretend to smell of the finest
French perfumes, because, one, is, what, one, eats.
Powerful connections; no, not ‘celebrity’
connections; please; but rather powerful connections that implicitly trust and have
known one’s family for over four hundred years is one of many of the greatest trump cards, one, holds because
then, one, doesn’t have to run around like a chicken with its head cut off
trying to convince others that it’s alive while its head lays on the ground.
Ha! (I know I know, I refuse to ask for favors.)
It’s one thing to be a part of a small
‘popular’ group of kids who think that they’re better than everyone else because
their egos tell them, that their shit
doesn’t stink while it’s quite another thing to be ‘The most’ popular kid, a
‘cool kid’; because, the most popular
kid on-their-own is a ‘cool kid’ who’s got everyone’s back from the bottom of the
totem pole to the very top; and that’s pure
power.
Pure power like pure poetry is what ends up
making ‘cool kids’ a shitload of money without having to go and work a day job
until the day they die (because they believe they’re above working like everybody
else), or having to bully their way into a position near the top or having to
kiss rear ends until their old age such as ‘popular kids’ do.
Ultimately ‘pop kids’ (as a herd of hyenas),
are a bunch of losers and they’ll live as such and die as such, impaled by
their own self loathing, lost dreams and idiotic tendencies to crush others
because their souls feel crushed by their own existences and their every breath
of life is insignificant to them thus other’s breath of life are insignificant
to the hyena as well. These hyenas are the type that have forsaken life from
the very beginning while in their middle-class cribs and that’s what makes them
social terrorists and shallow; left only
with their rotting flesh and bone. They’re nothing and they’ve always known
that and that’s why they have to overcompensate for their lack of humanity.
Out of pity, no one wants to burst their
bubbles of self-importance and delusions, yet hyenas tend to rally against the
truth because they’re afraid to wake up one morning and to figure out for
themselves, that, they were always ‘nothing
to no one’ much less their hyena friends who hate them as much as they hate
themselves and that’s the only reason why they fight for their existences to be
known. (Yes, I’m the daughter of a psychologist and I read them; figured them out
long before they ever knew what was coming to them in adulthood, justice.)
{I choose not
to destroy careers, because I’m not in the pursuit of becoming a pirate, but
little did those bloated egos for hyenas know, that I know the very people at
the very top who hold the hyena’s careers at the palm of their hands.
I won’t get revenge, because I’m not like
that as a Taurus bull; but now you know, that you can be sent packing, any day of the week and now, you’ll have
to mind your goddamn P’s and Q’s and not socially terrorize the rest of the
kids in the sandbox because nobody likes sand in their eyes. Nope, even if
one’s connected to other hyenas that I went to private school with its one
thing to know power and it’s quite another thing to try and achieve it.} Eat
that for Finn dinner tonight.
Ha! I get the last laugh all the way to the
bank on my skateboard.
‘Cool kids’ aren’t bullies and they aren’t
cowards because they know real power, stern respect and reverence towards
others.
The ‘cool kid’ minds their own, while keeping
an eye on everyone and making sure that the entire community runs smoothly,
with respect like a well oiled machine. Checks and balances.
The ‘cool kid’ is the one who hears about the
concerns of their entire school because everyone wants them to think over
problems to arrive at solutions for the entire community to move forward and
bring-about justice in a form of peer solution to the social unbalance in the
cruelty of the ‘popular kids’ who contribute nothing but a social agenda and
that’s what makes them so boring and shallow, that’s what makes them nothing in
the balance of everyone’s something else.
Yes, the ‘cool kids’ end up making a shitload
of money over the ‘popular kids’ because the ‘popular kids’ are never satisfied
with who they are and what they’re doing.
The ‘pop kids’ if you prick them with a pin
then they pop and deflate, and that’s how fragile and weak they are. The meaner
they are; then, the shallower they become because they believe that their hurt
is more important than the hurt of those other humans who truly are going
through real struggles like poverty, hunger, cancer, domestic violence, rape,
pregnancy and real life in general, not some stupid fantasy of ‘fame and
fortune’.
‘Pop kids’ are, well, full-of-hot-air. Ha! Cheers.
I hope that answered your questions.
Yes, one ‘cool kid’ can and does end up making
far more money than all of the ‘pop kids’ combined because the ‘cool kid’ believes
in community above themselves.
No, a ‘cool kid’ refuses to show off their
wealth because they have nothing to prove to anyone and everyone else knows
that to be the truth.
Sincerely to those communities who were
bullied by losers such as ‘pop kids’.
Arrivederci.
Gabriel
*) No, no one group of idiotic losers, can be
the most popular kid in any herd over
the rest because the most popular
kid, the ‘cool kid’ flies solo to
other places no one ever knows they even exist; only as an individual does he
make his solo flights. It’s what you can offer and bring to the table of
negotiation that makes one the ‘cool kid’ and that normally means a ‘balance in
the force’. Ha! Ha! Ha!
I bring something more valuable to the table than
all the oil, diamonds and gold combined.
*) No, I
refuse to attend another High School reunion at Arts High (Golden Valley,
Minnesota) until I’m well into my 60’s (even then I might not attend) because apparently
some of us weren’t invited to our last High School reunion while only a chosen
few were. Gross. (Later I’ll write as to why the Arts High is a place full of poser
degenerates like the Tele series “Fame”.) I figured out the school’s secret. Ha!
No, I’m not a Minnesota ‘artistic’ poser; I’m
from the East Coast and we don’t pretend at being anything we only wish we
were. What a bunch of losers. I had no idea. Wow, I had no idea. What did you
do?
I’m appalled at the Arts High School for
being such a shallow concept.
(I figured it out and I can’t be bought nor have
my mind changed.) Ha! Sixteen years after graduating from there I finally put
the pieces to the puzzle together. I connected the dots. You knew that once I
would then holy crap! I’ve had the wool pulled over my eyes long enough. Ha! I get the last laugh.
I heard about not being invited to our last
reunion. Word gets around. Thanks for not inviting some of us. I know very well
who sits on that committee. Here’s a middle finger looking at you. Losers. I
hate the Arts High School for being such a lie. I loved my teachers and that’s
the only thread of hope that it has in surviving what I have to write…
*) Oh, Cuba. We know, we love you and keep
you in our prayers.
*) We don’t punish nor ever murder children
for the sins of their parents.
*) If one’s friends aren’t famous or public
figures then it’s best not to mention them by name on Television because if
they end up hating one’s guts someday then they can sue another for
‘defamation’. Ha!
*) Yes, if I party amongst a group of
strangers, then, when the party is over, I make no pretence to be the first one
out the door. I’m not begging for alms, I simply show up to witness and to see
what’s it all about. Thank you.
October 26, 2012
Notes:
*) Oh, we got home, we’re about to crack open
the Champagne and the week’s all over for us, we’re not moving from this
little, incredible and comfortable perch.
*) I’m wishing you a wonderful and safe
night.
*) No, I’m not vain. (Correction; from “vein”
to “vain”.) Ha! Hilarious!
I barely look at myself in the mirror because
I can see what’s in your faces.
*) “Ha!” is an expression, that, when done,
well, it’s music to the ear otherwise its nails on a blackboard.
*) Yes, we’re keeping an eye on the East
Coast weather.
*) The MTV Generation hates ‘Reaganomics’ for leaving
them without services, without afterschool programs and devastating their
economy. The MTV Generation keeps informing me of how much they hated, still
hate and don’t believe in former president Ronald Reagan thus they’ll vote for
Mr. President Barack Obama.
*) Step back please, don’t-be so damn rude.
*) Blogging isn’t journalism; careful.
Nevertheless, blogging is also serious because when it comes
down to the wire, information is...
--- --- ---
P.S. Oh crap!
I guess that ‘everything’ is sold out in the
music scene around town for tonight. I forgot that it’s Halloween weekend. Damn
it! Too bad it took me all week to make up my mind to go dancing until late
this afternoon. I only had one horrible incident with the Minnesotans on
Tuesday.
No, I refuse to ask for favors.
I’ll pay my way as any American citizen-civilian
does and I’m neither ‘special’ nor a
celebrity nor do I pretend to be one. Please. I’m not a douchebag wiping
another’s ass in the exchange for a free ride. Ha!
I may skateboard my way around town and take in
the wonderful energy that’s in the air due to all of these incredible
Minnesotans so happy for it to be Halloween weekend.
Yes, we even live here. Ha! Rock
the house, Minneapolis!
That’s what gives us an edge over anyone who
doesn’t live here. We care enough to pay taxes to our incredible
infrastructure, education and healthcare. Thank you. Ha! (Don’t take it too
seriously, because we don’t.)
I feel free and alive tonight.
Yes, your bosses, owe, my friends their
mortgages. End of discussion. Period.
No, my friends don’t like to go out dancing
and they don’t hang out with artist types. They’re ‘tycoons’ why would they
hang out with the rest of us (wink, wink). Ha!
I don’t have a need to beg. I refuse to reach
for a carrot. I simply like to be hidden, come-and-go as I please and listen to
the excitement in the beauty of others. Music makes me so excited to be alive
tonight whether I may be granted access into any venue or not. Cheers. Peace.
Safety. I come in peace. I’m not pushy. I’m only curious as to see what’s been
going on after eleven months of hibernating.
---
--- ---
We’ve got parties to go to tomorrow night and
Sunday night, but as far as tonight’s concerned, I’ve got music on the brain
and in my soul and that’s what I’m after. Ha!
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You just might find
You get what you need
I don’t want to think too hard.
I want to feel music vibrating inside my
tribal chest like I’m falling for the first time.
“Just say the word, goddamn it!” He’s mad at
me and I refuse to say any word. I continue to keep my silence and it pisses
him off.
---
--- ---
Happy Friday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Absolutely yes!
---
--- ---
Take it away, Mr. Bill Maher. Break a leg! Good
luck!
(No, I’m not sucking up to Mr. Bill Maher; we’ve
not been formally introduced and neither one of us knows of the other; really, nor do we run in the same
circles; we live worlds apart. Our main commonalities are that we happen to be
mortals, contemporaries and alive, breathing to the same pumping beat of life.
If I wanted to be formally introduced or needed to directly convey
something of importance to Mr. Maher then I would, however, what’s there to be
said to a celebrity; nothing, unless... (Do you know what code that’s under? I’m
sure, that, one doesn’t know even if, one attended Ivy League because it goes
as far back as....) A Blue Blood can… While, a Celebrity, can only…
The code is meant to keep worlds apart, so,
that, worlds that ought not to mix, don’t; only
by divine intervention, chance, and ‘dumb luck’; therefore, one ought not to be
invaded and conquered or at the least
separated from one’s upstanding duty to uphold to silly yet Sovereign rules in...
Ha! Ha! Ha! Oh, those ancient codes of honor and rules of conduct, etiquette
and… I’m only joking a little please
don’t take it, too, seriously, because I most certainly don’t; and yet again,
here I am, trying to teach you something about a world that’s indeed as
historical as the power of history, that, is, and will be.
I’m not delusional I’m a realist. Please! I simply cheer-on for
Mr. Maher and his team because I believe this public entertainer and comedian
is ‘the hope of a generation’. I’m not a Sycophant. You’re looking at a woman. Thank
you very much!) Cheers!
To answer your question; Yes, “Real Time” on
HBO is one of my favorite contemporary shows thus far. I have many favorite shows
and other aspects of mass media that I like very much, but I have more life to
live than Tele to watch and thus I’m discerning about what I watch even if it
means only ten minutes a day, Monday-through-Friday. On weekends I love to do
nothing but to ‘hang out’ in jeans and a T-Shirt and watch lots of Tele to buttered
and salted popcorn. Ha! (It’s almost impossible to get me out of the house on
the weekends.) Why would I? I work all week. ‘I’m a working stiff.’ Ha! Ha! Ha!
Arrivederci.
Gabriel
*) On Monday, it’ll be three weeks since I’ve
kept myself from making an appointment for physical therapy.
No, I take, one, Oxycodone --one day, every
three weeks, and stop, because the numbing pain from the Oxycodone makes me
want to get into a ring with corporate pharmaceutical chemists and either dance circles around them in mockery as
a debate tactic or throw one deadly and silent punch to get them to understand
what a taste of their own blood is like, even if it meant breaking my hand
(figuratively speaking, pure poetry
nothing more and nothing less.)
I ‘abhor’ violence of any type.
I’ve been mustering up the courage to take
myself to a live boxing match for over two decades but I’m afraid that all I
could do is to sit down or stand up with a notebook and write. I’d be, too,
nervous for either one of the boxers.
I don’t like the dehumanizing tone that some
Caucasian nurses in the Twin Cities take with their patients, thus I’m thinking
of going north bound to find ‘physical therapy’.
I’d love to-go-to physical therapy, however,
I refuse to be spoken-to like a child or to be treated ‘niggardly’ because; I’ve
been to hell-and-back again like many of my ‘working poor’ American citizen
counterparts and the last thing I desire is to get my teeth kicked in by people
who hate the very look of me.
No, I’m not any type of victim, at any time,
I can choose to be a ‘Mockingbird’ and we all know what that’s all about. Hilarious.
*) Oh, dear Vikings! (Next week I’ll try to
make the time to write about your vital importance in the meaning of creating
hope for the Minnesotans. I hope you heal from your wounds and relax over the
weekend. May you be respected, kindly-treated and loved by your beloved ones,
family, friends and fans.)
*) Even though I feel tired, I feel like
dancing.
Today, my friend cancelled-out on me, for a
night of dancing, but if I can muster up the courage to run around by myself
then I may just go to one or several places where I’m guaranteed to be left in
peace, the people aren’t rude, the men won’t rub their penises or asses upon me,
and, the other patrons won’t look at me weird, as a woman who simply wants a
Coca-Cola and to dance the night away in peace and in complete reverence for
breath of life.
No, I’m not afraid to travel alone as any
‘lone wolf’ or eagles ever are. Many of you in the Twin Cities already know (first hand) that I can
show up just about anywhere and have a great time without judging a single
soul. Your business is your own and mine belongs to me.
I’m simply looking for great music, peace
amongst others and calm as well as a damn great and continuous beat to-have-fun-to and dance while being
safe amongst the deadly human animals. (Oh, no; please.) I can show up at a
North Minneapolis club or at any penthouse any day of the week and I come in
peace as I’ve proven before. I’m happily married and I’m not looking for sex, I’m
looking to ‘chillax’ after a long week of work and responsibilities like any
other adults.
Please
don’t ask me to make films about you.
No,
I’m not a dishwasher, but I most certainly have been a dishwasher in
restaurants. If you’ve got a weird vibe about you then I’ll tell you that I’m a
dishwasher and I’ll watch you walk away so fast because I guess hard work isn’t
cool anymore.
Yes,
really. I’m an executive producer of feature-length documentary films as
difficult as that may be for you to believe.
If, anything; I’m looking for something as
far as my next topic for a film series and I’m looking to go silently, kindly
and with respect or have incredibly intelligent conversations about anything or nothing or we can be silent because we’re all tired.
If it comes down to talking about fishing,
hunting, books, Tele, politics, fashion, baseball, football, music (oh, yeah)
or any other topics in conversation then incredible if that were to happen at
all because intelligent women are simply like that.
No, I don’t recognize celebrities for the life of me, because I live under
a rock with a pile of books and I don’t get impressed easily even though I most
certainly am filled with life. Please don’t take any offense because I don’t
mean any.
No, I don’t want or need anything simply to
be in community as the ‘Ticos’ do in complete relaxed respect for others.
Well, there’s one exception, possibly, I
might ask for a glass of water from time-to-time, but as some of you already
know; I already carry a water-bottle.
Peace be with you.
And also with you and Thy Spirit. Ha! Much
love.
May the angels be with all women tonight as
we step out dancing alone or in a group. I’m so excited! I’m so happy at the
thought of taking to a dance floor and to be left in complete peace to ‘groove out’
without being treated like a piece of meat.
Yes, many people will know where I’ll be.
People are telling me of places in downtown,
‘Nor-east’ and yes, even North Minneapolis off of Broadway. I don’t know. I have to research dance
music with a beat.
I want to dance damn it!!! Remember, real ‘house
music’ when one could dance until one’s muscles went to mush and one felt like
one had run a marathon. Wow! Those were the days.
No, I don’t get drunk and I don’t get sick.
I’m an adult. No one need take care of me. Thank you so very much.
I come intact and I leave intact.
It’s been eleven months since I’ve moved (for
more than an hour) on a dance floor.
If I leave a place immediately, then don’t
take any offense normally I have a good reason for doing so and normally it has
to do with intuition. Thank you. ‘I’m a street kid’ (not literally) I grew up
in the jungle-barrios of Central America and I’ve been skateboarding for nine
years. I know what’s what. Experience teaches one to read vital signs even if
one doesn’t give away the danger.
Here’s looking at you Gary, Indiana for keeping
me safe and traveling in-and-out of your dance clubs. What a great time those
folks can have. I miss you.
Yes, I’m a little nervous to leave the nest.
There’s been so much gun violence in the Twin
Cities, but if the Americans know something about the streets then it’s that
even our Elders are the greatest ‘Cowboys and Indians’ of the West with a
history of pioneering women. Ha!
Peace out!
I’m quitting work for the day!
I’ve had enough of this week.
Wishing you an incredible and safe weekend.
October 25, 2012
P.S. Yes, correction; from “Stafford” loans
to “Stepford” wives. Ha!!! That’s a funny grammatical mistake to make yet
they’re not unlike one another.
---
--- ---
*) No, I
don’t have to convince anyone of anything, much less my friends because
they unconditionally know, love and understand me, not, to be, one, who lies to
them. Actually, I’m brutally honest with them because I love them as my own
flesh and blood.
My friends trust me more than they would any
brown-noser, politician and used-car sale’s man or hair dresser because I can
say ‘no’ to them and disagree whole heartedly without causing harm.
They know that I’ve got their best interest
at heart, always. Are you kidding me? I’m a sweet ‘Pit Bull’. A sweet ‘Rottweiler’.
I’ve got people’s backs and I watch out and guard over them. It’s in my nature
to do so. I’m a quiet eagle and I can and will swoop in with talons if need be.
Yes, if you see me hanging out (trying to find twenty minutes of
solitude in the great outdoors, then most likely I know the owners of where I
stand). ‘I’m a lucky bastard.’
Yes, my friends are land-barons,
steel-barons, farm-barons, lumber-barons, railroad barons, stock-barons,
mining-barons and so on and so forth; we’re not talking ‘small potatoes’ when
it comes to their responsibilities as Heirs and Heiresses of the world. These
fine fellows know full-well that, they, owe; the Earth their mass fortunes
therefore; their responsibility is to make sure that others don’t go hungry and
that politicians don’t go insane on The People.
Don’t forget that money buys politics; and, politics is
controlled by Power; who happens to be closely bonded to his surrogate sister;
Prestige. Ha! How wonderful. Checks and Balances.
Prestige doesn’t have anything to sell to Power;
that’s why Power trusts her to tell him the truth and so she does because she
loves Power’s ability to steer justice in the right direction; she holds the
compass and, he, the helm.
Power trusts Prestige, because he knows very
well that she’s gone ‘to hell-and-back again’ and came back in the human form.
Power knows very well that the devil liked
the ‘honest-to-God-truth’ about Prestige and could do nothing but let her go;
she lifted herself up from the snow of winter and barely made it back to her
friends, who, gave her refuge and shelter in their mansions and Estates, when
none other would.
Her friends; know her feisty soul very well, anywhere,
in the world, and they know that Prestige is a peace-warrior, but more so
heroic because she fought like hell
not to die in the snow of Duluth’s 2003-2004 deadly cold winter from starvation
and thrown out into the gutter; while; for work, she shoveled snow ten hours a
day to put food on her table and worked alongside with well respected American
military Iraqi sniper co-workers at Spirit Mountain at the ripe age of
twenty-seven.
How ghastly for her humanity and they all knew it that what they were doing was wrong but the
men allowed themselves to be led by their penises by former
cheerleading-dreadlocked posers who made the laws at the Emerson artist Co-Operative.
Cowardly bastards. No, it wasn’t a Co-Op; it was Fascism that ruled the day as
it does in most circles of artists.
Prestige was thrown out of a living Co-Operative
in the dead of winter for letting her other incredible female musician friend
live with her without, first, ‘asking for permission’ from the damn Co-Operative
bastards, if, her friend could live there with her because she had no home.
Great! Two homeless, female friends; hanging onto each other; for dear life while getting thrown out
into the streets and under the brides of Duluth’s winter. Oh, Prestige had
never prayed as she had before, she believed in all of the love of-all-the Gods’
of men.
Have you no heart?
Never, throw women out of her home in the dead of
winter, because you may just murder her, outright.
I hate you enough to love you.
Not really, I hate you for your shallowness and willingness
to be led like sheep and yet in some tiny little piece of my heart, I love only
because I met the most incredible man, there; who I respect to this day, who
showed me his records and taught me about rock and roll.
I love Black Label beer for one reason, and
one reason, only, because of this man’s kind words, time and deeds. Ha! Peace
to you Mr. N____ of the Black Labels when I think of you, then I smile, each
and every time. Thank you. I ‘shan’t’ forget you for as long as I live. Ha!
(“Shan’t” what an old world expression, yet so lovely when it’s not spoken
pretentiously.)
While face down in the snow Prestige spoke to
the devil and demanded him to let her
people go.
The devil, realized, as much as the angels
did, that, she had nothing to lose, not even life itself.
She didn’t beg for mercy or pity; she simply
worked with her limbs to get up from the snow, even though the snow felt warm
and comfortable like a fluffy bed of down, once, numbness set in she thought,
she could go to sleep forever and that would’ve been fine with her, except for
one thought that kept reoccurring at the forefront of her mind; Her friends needed her and she needed them; that’s the only reason
she got up from the snow, otherwise…
---
--- ---
I have other responsibilities: its 2:00 P.M.
Cheers!
Happy Thursday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance?
---
--- ---
“Rape is rape and it’s illegal.” Don’t
anybody forget it!
How dare the Republican politicians tell American
women what women can and cannot do with their goddamn bodies?
Abortion is a goddamn right, not a choice and
women want to keep that right otherwise, get the hell out of the political
kitchen because you can’t handle the heat.
Rule #1: don’t tell Americans (especially
American women) what to do because they hate that; and, then Americans will do
the opposite just to give you the middle finger even if it hurts their children
in the long run, they’d rather spite your
face, in spite of cutting off their own noses.
Peace and love.
Gabriel
*) Now, Gentlemen, go get ‘em.
I’m setting the dogs free on the Republicans
because those boys and girls sure are American chauvinist pigs. Rip them apart
and conquer them. If money talks, then watch this. Ha!
*) Richard Mourdock can burn in eternal hell
for all of time while Lucifer continuously rapes him up the rectum with his
pitchfork (ouch!).
I didn’t know that Richard Mourdock and the
Republican male and female chauvinist deuchebags spoke to the devil, their
rhetoric, tells us so.
Now, if, one, wants to play with the ‘big
wigs’ and the ‘big guns’ of influential culture then, one, must get one’s
rhetoric together about substantial peace, justice and liberty for all because women sure are scary when they become embittered
in the healing process of their after-rapes and that’s when, united, women can
take out men, forever, careful boys;
I’m fighting for men’s survival over here while the political boys keep
screwing it up.
What the hell’s wrong with these Republican politician
boys? Why do they seem to hate their Fathers so much? Did their Fathers rape
them while their Mothers ignored the warning signs of rape right under her roof?
The Republican’s ‘anti-women’ rhetoric, as
well as Mr. Congressman Paul Ryan’s legislative bills against women’s ‘right to
abort’ and Mr. Governor Mitt Romney’s campaign rhetoric, against and in the
hatred for ‘equal pay for equal work’; it leads, one, to conclude that, men, such as themselves, show the warning
signs that they were raped at one point or another in their lives by their
Fathers while their Mothers ignored such atrocities against humanity. Pity.
No wonder such men hate women so much and
want to destroy the rights and liberties of women because they feel broken and
hurt; thus, they want women to feel their pain as much as they feel it. Such
men didn’t grow up to question anything of value because they live in the past
and destroy everything in their paths towards a progressive future.
Careful, boys!
Women are onto such mean-spirited Republican rhetoric
and they, too, can hate ferociously.
The difference between raped women and raped
men, is, that raped women can and do control their bitterness on a daily basis,
while; a raped man wants and desires; prowls to rip the heart out of women;
because they believe that rape is a weak female condition not a male’s
vulnerability.
All the while raped men (literally) don’t
have the guts to tell their Mothers ‘to go to hell’ for not keeping them safe from
harm when these men were children. Raped men in subtle ways take out their
hatred and frustration on their female friends and partners. Raped men chip
away at marble sculptures because they hate wholesome beauty. Pity. What sorrow
for such men! No wonder they hate women so much.
Mothers, who allow (on a continuous basis) to
let their little boys get raped, are as much perpetrators of the rape as the
rapists are themselves, (yet know this, the research shows that children are
the biggest liars, they’ll lie at any opportunity they can get even when it
comes to telling a lie about getting raped; especially if they’ve been made to
be harshly disciplined (egos deflated) then they’ll take the opportunity to
punish an adult who doesn’t allow for spoilt children to get away with eating
their bullshit).
It’s when humans ‘grow up’ that they show the
‘warning signs’ of rape and incest (or not) and as far as one can tell the
entire Republican Party got raped in childhood, because their rhetoric, tells us so. The more contempt
Republicans have for the world then the more, one, can tell that Republicans
got raped along the way.
Guess again about rape because it’s the
little American boys that get raped by university football coaches, Catholic
priests and The Boy Scouts of America’s male leaders and volunteers. Yikes. White America, the land of the
embittered and hateful Republican raped males, (that’s definitely not the Latino culture to say the least).
I hate to revert back to history; but, men, have been wanting to sleep with men
since the Roman times and that’s what America is founded upon, older men who
took younger men under their wings in-the-exchange for sex while both age
groups of men brought home diseases to their wives. Lovely.
Careful. Bitter women won’t hesitate to
castrate men (not literally), ‘cut their throats out’ (not literally) and get social
revenge (literally) for the atrocities of what’s happened to them in a male
chauvinist culture such as America, who, apparently forgot or doesn’t know how
to give a woman a great lasting orgasm of peace between the battle of sexes as
it rages on, in the debate for ‘equal rights for equal pay’ as well as any
woman’s right to make decisions about her body and her life. Vulgarity ensues
in the form of oppression.
Republican America, has apparently become the
land of closeted male homosexuality while they keep wives, and that won’t last for long because women
can always sense that they’re being hunted like animals by their men, when,
their men hate them, to the core of the men’s souls. Such raped men are ‘out to
get women’ and all a woman can do is guard her young from getting them raped.
Women who’ve been raped and choose to become
hardened and possibly embittered won’t hesitate to socially ‘take out’ a man from
‘the game of life’ because women believe it or not, are great athletes, rulers
and warriors.
{No, when I choose to disengage from a cowardly
man then I’m cold as ice water, because I’m not bitter but like hell if I’m going to have a man continue to belittle me,
degrade me and prove his disloyalty to my femaleness by throwing me under the
bus time-and-time again. I know, very well, how, raped men perform in public
and in social situations. I know, all, too, well and I get the last laugh.}
I’m laughing so hard in the face of 16 years
of cold and subtle cruelty by a former ex-male I met in Golden Valley,
Minnesota who lied to me about his entire existence and about being a closeted
homosexual all the while sleeping with women on the side, pretending to be
heterosexual. Ha! Go lick your mierda from the bottom of your shoes.
Nope, step back! Now!
Nope, back up! (Mr. Mourdock is vulgar and
I’m a mirror reflecting back on society and culture); (and that’s coming from a
former orphan who did four years of hard labor in a Roman Catholic orphanage in
a third world country and no, I wasn’t raped, thank the Gods, because I was
considered an ‘ugly Indian child’, thank The Gods!!!) Do you know what it’s
like to be treated like a leopard for four years? I’m sure that you don’t. I
do.
No ‘hanky-panky’ with the ‘ugly Indian child’.
Thank you, my darling Gods. (It’s incredibly funny the things that will
save, one, from harm, sometimes. Since, I’ve been told by so many light skinned
bastards, that I’m ‘ugly’ for being an Indian; that very line, for some reason
has saved me by-and-by from harm, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to
take a punch straight in the face and at this stage of the game, I don’t dare
throw a punch because it would be deadly and I’m afraid I’d kill a human with
one single blow to the face. I keep my serenity and my calm about myself
because I have a peaceful duty to perform, to keep the peace at all costs. I’m
a Champion; I win and you know it even if you hate my writing for it.)
Richard Mourdock must apologize to every
raped victim he publically offended.
If not, then get the hell out of public
office as a public servant because Mr. Mourdock sure does stand up for the rape of women. Gross.
What a nut sack with no sperm to speak of.
Women will see Mr. Mourdock socially hung by
his balls for his tremendous disrespect, disregard and hatred of women.
What a diluted nut job.
Why are there so many losers running for
public office in the Republican Party?
One, would think that the Republicans snort
large amounts of cocaine and that’s why they self-loath and then take it out on
the public. What a bunch of sissy losers.
The Republican Party male members who are
female haters ought to be exposed to discrimination equal to the people they
discriminate against.
Oh, wait, any man who stands up for the rape
of women most likely already has been raped and that’s why he doesn’t mind, if
women do. Oh, we get it. The American public isn’t as stupid as the Republican male
chauvinist pigs think we are.
How dare Mr. Mourdock be such a douchebag in
the public political arena? ‘Rape is rape and it’s illegal’. Has he forgotten
his wits about him? Yep.
Why are Republican politicians so out of
touch with the American public?
Republicans are afraid of change (it’s here,
it already happened) and they continuously keep reverting back to the bible but
The Culture moved on and left them in the dust.
The further culture gets away from the bible,
then the more seriously the Republican male chauvinist pigs want to drag
culture back to “The Cleavers”. They keep over shooting their mark and we’re
long past that. It’s as though Republicans want to rape modern culture into
submitting into rape. Ha!
The Republicans have absolutely no respect
for women.
Ladies, forget the Republicans because they
rape women with their rhetoric and believe in rape. I didn’t know that Richard
‘Murderous’-dock spoke to the devils inside his head and soul and trudged up
whatever the hell his penis wanted him to say.
What a loser.
There. I have the will and the power to say
it for the entire country.
Love to the American women who’ve suffered through
rape.
October 24, 2012
Happy Wednesday!
Aloha.
Shall we take to the dance floor? Yes? Yes.
How about a ‘Rumba’?
I’m sure that I don’t know what a ‘Zumba Workout’
is?
I keep seeing signs for such a thing in
different neighborhoods? (Whatever, it may be?) No, thank you. I’m not
interested, not personally, anyway.
Oh, do you mean the ‘Samba Dance’? What.
---
--- ---
Quickly now: (I have more responsibilities to fulfill
than I care to…)
*) Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.
Yes, I’m aware that using only 10% of one’s brain is a scientific
myth. Alright. I get it. Thank you.
Nevertheless, I like the saying of the scientific myth; simply because it’s too stupid to
think, that, one, wouldn’t use
80%-90% of one’s brain to explore the world (with).
Now, I personally believe as; someone, who, neither is a scientist (by
any means) nor any type of expert in the scientific field that we use 100% of
our brains to think with. Period. Ha!
*) Yes, thank you. Our Costa Rican family and
friends were just fine in the previous earthquake (about a month ago) and in
yesterday’s earthquake.
Yes, I can get on the horn at any given
moment and communicate with anyone in the world especially the ‘Ticos’, The Costa
Ricans. Thank you, everyone is safe and sound. Much love to the Costa Ricans. I
know exactly what I was doing yesterday at 6:45 P.M.
I prayed for you, my beloved Country’s Men
and Women. I miss you so very much.
*) I’ve known exactly what’s going on in
Nicaragua and Panama for over twenty-years. I know, that, aspect of foreign
policy all, too, well; because it can and does affect Costa Rica’s borders. (Like I don’t know.) Please.
*) Yes, I’ve been told ‘first-hand’; (because
I’m privileged to information like any diplomat, which I’m not an official
diplomat (Please, why would I want to be
a diplomat), nevertheless, I’m a documentary filmmaker, thus I’m a
researcher); that, on the North Western
corner between Nicaragua and Costa Rica; the Columbian drug cartel has moved in
(I’ve known since 2004). (This is public knowledge, I’m not making it up thus I
can write about it publically and safely.) Please. (Don’t kill the civilian messenger,
there aren’t enough of them to go around and they’re more precious than oil,
diamonds and gold combined and that’s why I thought that journalists were
heroes (all those years); I guessed wrong, because they’re not interested in
facts and fact checking anymore.) Moving on.
As far as I can understand the information;
in the news and through the 'Campasinos' / (peasants) is, that, Caucasian
American tourists go missing in that area, (no, don’t panic; I travel all over
Costa Rica and Columbian drug cartel or not; as well as our Ivy League friends
in Costa Rica or not, they all know that
I come in peace like any other tourist and global civilian), (nothing more
and nothing less).
{I can “report” a good story if people need
me to, otherwise it’s free form writing because I’ve learned most, if not, then,
all of the rules to grammatical
writing from the masters and I still don’t easily apply such rules, as it’s
obvious to any native speakers.) Yes, I’m
a horrible proof reader of my own work.} Thank you very much.
Word of mouth spreads quicker than the news,
nothing new.
Furthermore, no, stop.
Legally, I’m not able to go any further than
these words about the subject of Columbian drug cartel in Costa Rica only
because I'm guarded by “public knowledge”; and if I were to write any more then
I run the risk of saying too much. Peace to the Columbian drug cartel in Costa
Rica, civilians, citizens and tourists. Peace.
*) No, neither the United States of America
and its government nor any other corporate machine, conglomerate, nor complex (much
less the American Military complex) pays my annual income earnings. Please.
No, investors do that, investors pay for my
time and work; thank you.
Thus, I’m a citizen and a woman of the world
everywhere I go and I keep open lines of communication with ‘peasants’,
civilians and people who entrust me with valuable information about their
communities, their healthcare and education. Thank you.
I care what happens to everyday folks and as
far as governments and other parties are concerned, I don’t sell nor buy drugs
and I don’t have anything to do with any type of drug production, distribution,
and markets. I’m one little sea turtle-human that lives and lets others live.
I’m gathering information for a future ‘drug
documentary’.
No, I’m not into snitching-out any human. Please.
Do I look like a crocodile?
I’m, too, regal for that. Thank you.
Stop being paranoid, it’s such an aggravating
quality in any human and most annoying to say the least, especially not sexy. Yes,
I’m a woman who loves to discuss intelligent topics about anything from fashion
to war; and no, I refuse to go to bed with any man other than Eric (my
husband); any other man shall respect that (nothing more and nothing less)
otherwise, we’re not going to get along.
*) Quiet on the set! Please.
I’m continuously turning the radio and Tele
off because the background noises in newsrooms are not only unprofessional but
also (I hate to write this because then you guys will be mean to me) well, it
sounds like a college radio-sound-booth with tons of dorm-room kids cramped
into a booth, smoking too many cigarettes late at night and using up the air
waves for fluff.
In other words, ambient (cluttering sound) is
amateur, only, because then the audience can’t hear what the great commentators
of our times are saying to The People. We, care. We want to know what’s going
out over the airwaves.
No, we’re not def; it’s simply annoying,
that’s all I’m saying. Sorry. I don’t
mean to be a bitch only ‘a voice of reason’. (“Don’t hate me because I’m
beautiful” Ha!)
*) I’ve been hearing the name Sid Hartman for
about eight years, without a clue who this man is.
No, seriously, do you think that I can’t
remember names? Please. ‘Sid Hartman this’ and ‘Sid Hartman that’. Please.
Yes, yesterday; I finally researched on-line,
Mr. Sid Hartman and found out incredible aspects of this man’s life. Wow, I’m
speechless. No, we’ve not met nor been formally introduced, however. Thank you.
I’m stunned. I’m floored. I don’t know what to say. Is Mr. Sid Hartman a Role
Model? I don’t know. Possibly. Most likely.
---
--- ---
*) No, thank you.
No, I’m not looking for a J-O-B.
I have a career, thank you.
If, one, is going to come to the table and
discuss large sums of money with someone
like me, then, one, better know what the reality of that means and what one
is saying. Please. I refuse to reach for a carrot, damn it!
---
--- ---
*) No, one million dollars is low balling it.
Don’t be so insulting in this industry.
My time is worth more than that. Why ask me
then? Back up.
Go back to the drawing board because one
million is an insult; when all I know
is how to make millions for others. “Everything I touch turns to gold.” Do you
think that I don’t know that? Please.
Eric keeps telling me, “ ‘you’re very good at
making millions for others and that’s really what you’re very good at, up-till
this point; too, bad you won’t do it for yourself.’ ” Wait. Wait, for it. (A runner waits for the perfect moment to pull
away from the rest of the pack.)
*) I won’t go into the subject matter of suburban
Caucasian women until after the elections.
*) Wow, have the Republicans gone insane with
their racist rhetoric?
*) Wow, how sexist of the Republicans with
their ‘rape rhetoric’.
*) Wow, how disrespectful are the republicans
towards Mr. President. Quite.
Peace.
Merci Beaucoup. Ha!
Gabriel
(My Grandmother passed away two years ago and there’s no longer
any reason to go by “Gabriela”. In her memory.) Plus, everybody knows me as
“Gabriel” since fall of 1996. Ha! Ha! Ha!
*) Yes, corrections in re-writes can only mean that one is
intelligent enough to catch one’s mistakes and set them right.
*) Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ve got to prepare.
I’ve got somewhere very important to be.
*) Correction; from “PAL” grants to “PELL” grants. Ha!
*) Women make .82 cents to every dollar men make. Ha! What a
joke!
*) No, Mr. President Barack Obama has nothing to prove to the
‘nitwit’ who offered up five million dollars as a donation in-the-exchange for
the President’s transcripts.
If the nitwit can simply donate that sum of money without making
a public faux pas then why not just
donate the damn five million dollars directly to any charity? How vulgar.
Mr. President doesn’t have anything to prove on the basis and
upon the sacred ground that the President isn’t his job, but mainly, he is, the
man, that, he is, and he has nothing to prove to anyone much less disrespectful…
(Fill in the blank)…
Have all of the
Republicans lost their manners, wits and moral principals? Put your pants back
on, boys and girls! You’re flapping in the wind and The American People can see
everything.
You can’t speak to the President of the United States of America
with such disrespect because The President represents the symbol of freedom for
all Americans.
Back up!
What disgusting behavior from Republican morons.
No, wonder I left the Republican Party!
If Republicans disrespect the President of the United States of
America then Republicans disrespect the vote of the American People.
How crude. What cowards. I’m so turned off as most women are.
Gross.
*) I’m out of here!!! I’ve got to go.
October 23, 2012
P.S. Thanks for informing me; I get it.
I know my Industry and how this field of
‘entertainment’ works. Yes, I’m entertained however ‘We’re not amused’ (a
little joke). (Ha!) Good luck to Mr. Kluwe’s ghost writer. Thank you.
Mr. Chris Kluwe doesn’t write his own blog,
otherwise he’d place his name behind his words. Moving on. Next.
What’s there to write about nothing?
Absolutely nothing.
No, it wasn’t an official debate challenge, I
was just saying; I know my strengths in debate, however, I’m not taking to a
stage. No one can pay me enough to get up on a stage just like you couldn’t pay
me enough to attend another ‘workshop’. Ha! The
smell of ‘those’ places is like basement churches.
---
--- ---
Happy Tuesday!
Aloha.
Shall we take to the dance floor? Yes.
---
--- ---
*) Ha! Ha! Ha! Oh, don’t make me laugh that
hard. Wow!
I just found out that the Mormon cult isn’t
an ‘equal opportunity’ employer. Ha!
Why is it that in Mormon polygamy that only men can hop from bed-to-bed amongst
his ‘sister wives’; while Mormon women
are forbidden to hop from bed-to-bed amongst her ‘brother-husbands’?
Why can’t a Mormon female have the same
rights as her Mormon male counterparts when it comes to having multiple
partners?
Is the double standard upright because Mormon
women are perceived lesser in the eyes of Mormon men? Yes. (Otherwise, a double
standard wouldn’t exist, that’s logic for you, how beautiful, indeed!)
No, wonder Mr. Governor Romney refuses to
stand up for the equal rights of women
as far as ‘equal pay for equal work’ is concerned. How freakish.
America’s no longer a male ‘wet dream’ in
concept of the 1950’s female oppression with Stepford wives and their “Mother’s
little helper” of valium by the pound in candy bowls to help the women pass the
monotony of their lives and their chaotic loneliness of raising children,
alone, as a sacrificial social burial.
Why can’t a Mormon sister have five husbands
just as her Mormon husband can have five wives?
Don’t you know, that, if, a rooter forces his
way into a chicken coup while trying to sleep and emotionally rape all of the
chickens, that, then, the chickens, once, united can peck a rooster to death?
The
chickens won’t allow for them be dominated and raped as if that’ll ever happen again to them and their sisters. The chickens
won’t ever let it happen again, simply because they’re guarding their female
offspring from getting raped in the same manner, that, in which, they were and
have been raped, even if it means castrating that particular rooter and letting
him bleed from his rectum. Oh, yes bitter chickens can be quite brutal and find
justice where ever they can even if it means ‘pecking the rooster to death’
(figuratively speaking). Ha! (A little poetry for you.)
No wonder, many, if not, then most of the
ex-Mormon women I’ve encountered are bitter as hell. Ha! Oh, I thought that
religion was about balancing out double standards. I guessed wrong just as I
guessed wrong about journalists being the heroes of the world. I really believed in that!
Careful men, women’s point-of-view on
religion is so different from your own.
---
--- ---
Simply because a woman ‘nods and smiles’, out
of obedience and sheer politeness that doesn’t necessarily mean that she
doesn’t have complaints about her oppressive life and lot in life; that doesn’t
mean that she isn’t bitter and you know
what they say about bitter women? Don’t you?
Bitter women won’t only socially ‘cut your throat’ (not literally); oh, no, a bitter
woman (a single bitter one) can take out empires and an entire species in race if
she’s mistreated and oppressed for too, long, especially when it comes to her
spirituality and religion; HER
femaleness, HER femininity which connects her to everything ‘in the circle of
life’, especially her GOD(s) (plural, for those of us who are ‘Indians’).
A bitter woman, can raise hell far more than an angry woman can; because
the difference between an angry woman, and a bitter one is that; an angry woman
is all too aware of the injustices of the world and she has reasoning, logic
and facts to back-up her anger, while; a bitter woman has raw emotion, hatred
to the marrow of her bones and a reason to ‘kill’ in the name of some male God,
and her hatred is what drives her, not logic and reasoning, much less facts. A
bitter woman thrives off of gossip rather than factual information.
While an angry woman is fighting like hell to
keep everyone else alive through the medium of peace; a bitter woman is fighting
to take out any one in her path. Yikes.
A bitter woman is beyond reasoning and debate;
while an angry woman is smart enough to approach the negotiating table at any given moment there’s an
invitation, all in the name of peace. An angry woman, all, she desires is
peace, calm and respect for others because she places others above herself and
watches others eat from her hunt before she eats. How lovely of an eagle female.
An eagle feeds her young rather than possibly
becoming the oppressor and pecking her young to death, filling her young full
of insecurity and empty promises or ultimatums, and further disregard for her
young’s lives. Nope, not with an eagle you don’t.
Truly, one doesn’t want to place a free eagle
in a coup full of bitter chickens because the eagle will and can take out the entire
chicken coup in one fast swoop of her talons. Truly, remarkable.
Oh, yes the hens will run about and place
blame anywhere they can other than on themselves at the mere fact, that they all
ganged up on the eagle to peck away at the eagle to death, without realizing,
that the eagle, had, sized-up every single one of them, long before they ever
encountered her talons. Ha!
An eagle is a bird of prey that only hunts
when she must, and rips her kill apart, while hens peck others to death out of
sheer jealousy and confusion, like the “Chinese water torture’ kills a man’s
soul. Chickens are the cowards of the female species race.
A bitter chicken wouldn’t know how to survive
in the wilderness, even if you gave her all of the hunting skills in the world
because so long as her wings are clipped she may not fly freely to her own
opinions, rhythm and desire for more love and peace amongst all women.
A bitter chicken, considers other women
lesser than her, because she’s considered less than in the eyes of men, even if
she bullies men into siding with her against the eagles of the world.
Ultimately, a man knows all too well that a
hen will and does peck away at life and he can only take that for so long,
because like all natural and wild female eagles, a man wants to be free to
think and to fly alongside the Alpha females of the world, even if they aren’t
always fashionable, yet ready with a pocketknife to take to the woods at any
given moment. (Ha!) Quiet Alpha females sure are sexy in the least. I’ve
watched them perform while hidden in corners and never taking my eyes, off of them.
Why would I?
A bitter woman is a wench waiting to strike
because she’s been used-up, too, much by the world of men. While an angry woman
is fighting to let her people free.
An angry woman doesn’t like being angry.
A bitter woman ‘gets a kick’ out-of her
self-loathing and thrives in the throes of sheer and naked hatred. Yikes. I’m frightened by the bitterness of such
women because they sure aren’t Cleopatra; no, bitter women are Medusas disguised
as Cleopatra; and that’s a serious distinction, made, between the two
differences in these two types of women in a nutshell. Ha! Ha! Ha!
An angry woman is an eagle; while, a bitter
woman is a pecking hen.
You know what they say about Medusa, if you
so much as look at her straight in the eye then you’ll turn into stone and a
man’s pecker falls off. Incredibly remarkable, indeed! Scary, that Medusa, she can’t even laugh at
herself.
An angry woman can admit when she’s wrong and
apologize for her incorrect thinking; while a bitter woman won’t come to
reasoning because all she cares about is getting dressed-up in her plumpness,
wearing the most depressing attire while she forsakes her God(s), especially
when she’s full in her belly, has a roof over her head and clothes on her back.
Wow! Remarkable how bitter some women are.
The eagle, she, must do all her hunting and
sleep out in the rain and yet she thrives on nature and that’s what makes her King
of the Americas. King of the transatlantic.
I’ll take on, an angry sister, any day
because she’s got a civilized fight in her; while her bitter sisters are out to
peck and kill without a proper trial; such bitter women thrive on witch hunts
and blood.
Bitter women are dangerous in ways that an
entire coup of chickens can peck any one chicken or rooters to death. Nature
sure is incredible. I’d rather fly with the angry eagles than eat with the
bitter hens. Thank you.
At least the eagles are quite regal, to say the least. There’s royalty
running through their fierce gaze at the world; with justice pumping through
their veins.
I’m a liberated woman because my Father
believes in ‘equal rights’ as well as in freedom and so do I.
I became an ‘intellectual’ so as not to take
a shallow dive; at, the end of my humanity; and; crack my head open, when; I
dove into shallow waters. I’m too smart for that. An eagle has to learn to dip
their head into the waters and fish out her prey with grace without drowning.
No, I refuse to dive into the shallow end of
the pool because my complexity in thinking means something to me.
I refuse to crack my head open out of sheer
hatred, jealousy and stupidity upon the pavement of the-shallow-end-of-the-water
and thus I’d rather ‘try’ to swim in ‘the deeps’.
{Even
though I don’t know how to swim very well
I can save myself from drowning. As a matter of fact, I stay clear of the
entire mess of swimming all together. I stay out of the water at all costs.
Yes, Eric’s going to teach me to swim. Many have tried and the mechanics
of swimming are so vastly complex in adulthood.
If one doesn’t learn to swim as a youth, then it’s much harder to learn as
an adult, in the same manner of difficulties that it is with learning a foreign
language as an adult, but it doesn’t mean that one ought to stay away from
learning.} Ha!
When oppression reigns freely in the lives of
women, then, well, put on your raincoats, strap on a seatbelt and; prepare,
yourselves for the rollercoaster ride of your lives.
I can handle angry birds of prey any day, because
their anger is justified with logic, reasoning and full of examples of the
prejudice and discrimination she must live through; but a bitter woman, is, one,
who despairs, and well, that’s the worst type of rebel waiting to climb out of
her chest, and then, they tend to ‘kill’ (figuratively speaking) their
oppressors, because when the slave master has silently and soothingly raped his
way through his chicken coup, then, the hens, tend to take out the rooster,
rather than the other hens, hence, they get smart-enough about the injustices
of their lives.
Hell, be upon the head of that rooster
because like hell if he’s going to
get out alive; and like hell if he’ll
drug-up and pillage any other hens. Once, the hens unite then good luck to ya.
Hens, too, can fly with the eagles; it’s simply a matter of fact, that their
wings get clipped, they get fed the most fattening feed in mass quantities and
that’s why they don’t taste very well, because their body fat content, that,
which over quantifies their muscle, skin and bone is too sad to live.
Good luck, Mormon ladies. We love those
Mormon women we’ve met and have so honestly shared their stories with us over
the past fifteen years. Raise hell. ‘Give ‘em hell.’
*) The definition of crazy is when, one,
continuously keeps making the same mistakes over-and-over again and doesn’t get
it that a different course of action is to apply a new solution yet, one,
continues with the same approach and their brain chemicals doesn’t seem to
offer any other new pathways in which, one, can find new solutions to old
problems. Ha!
Anger isn’t madness.
Repetition is madness.
Why do you think that many women and men
become embittered while working assembly lines? Such humans become embittered
because their souls die from the repetition.
Oh; no, on the contrary, I don’t believe for one moment that assembly line workers are anywhere
remotely insane, but their line of work sure is insane; I know; I’ve worked
in the assembly lines along my Ut-most bitter, ankle swollen co-workers, who,
wanted to scream out in pain.
Love to you, our dear hardworking Americans
and global-assembly-line workers.
*) Yes, “Star Wars: The Clone Wars” (ha!) is my favorite cinema to watch. We went
to the theatres when this piece of fine art first made its public debut and I
was full of hope for the future when I first saw this tremendously honest
animation film. I was beside myself and in awe of the tremendous beauty of
storytelling in the world. Thank you. (No, don’t worry I have no interest in
sucking up to anyone or rubbing elbows as a brown-noser. I’m, too regal for
such absurdity.)
*) Yes, I fell, 'head-over-heels’ (figuratively
speaking) for “The Simpsons” high-art animation with a high-brow animation
storytelling format. Thank you. (No, I’m not a suck up. You’ll most likely not
hear from me, ever, unless we’re formally introduced and I know for a fact that
we don’t run in the same circles. I’m a blue blood and you’re animators. What a
bitch, ha? That’s what I’m told by others. Don’t take it too personally. I’m
watching to see what you produce. I love it. Thank you for giving America hope.
We live worlds apart and I’m not a ‘Sycophant’.) Ha! I love that word.
Much love, more than you’ll ever know.
Arrivederci.
Gabriel
P.S. No, I
wasn’t ‘popular’ in High School (what do I look like, a freak-monkey?); rather
I was cool, calm and collected striking justice anywhere it needed to be struck.
I wasn’t afraid to side with the
intellectuals, the scientists, the mathematicians and the kinder, gentler
animals in the forest such as the bunnies and the little birds with their
beautiful songs. Yes, as an Eagle; the moose, bear, wolf and mountain lion have
always been my best friends on the ground. My heart, my loves, my friends.
I hate hyenas with a passion. They have no
‘guts and glory’ about them, only cowardice through terrorizing tactics.
The difference between ‘popular kids’ and ‘cool kids’ is this that; ‘cool
kids’ can hang out with anyone at any given time as they so desire; while ‘popular’
terrorizing ‘bitches’ and ‘assholes’ are mean-spirited, full of self-loathing
and peck away at others’ freedoms of expression while isolating themselves and
becoming entrapped in a bubble of self-importance.
Thanks for asking.
I guess, I don’t know what more to say.
I, too, know ‘how to play the game’, but not
at the expense of my communities.
If a ‘popular’ hyena was mean to others in
the wilderness, then guess what?
I was and am the lion in the forest, if I so choose
to travel by foot. (By water, I’m a cute and quiet little penguin, whom has no
clue that the sharks are out there, waiting, for our little kind-bird-swimming-existences
to perish in our old age ravaged by time.)
It’s my nature to be a quiet leader.
No, it doesn’t mean that I don’t have it in
me to roar because around these parts ‘we take care of our own’.
Everyone eats.
It’s a motto that I live by.
Oh, yes, most of the ‘Minnesota Nice’
bitches and ‘assholes’ whom I went to Arts High School (The Perpich Center for Arts Education) in
Golden Valley, Minnesota; they fled to New York City and Los Angeles because
they’d burned all of their bridges with the really kind Minnesotan kids, whom
they terrorized while in High School. HA! HA! HA!
Oh, like we didn’t know what hens they were
and are. Please.
Everybody knew that they were the murderers
of the soul (cynical as hell at the expense of everybody else’s freedoms), but
rarely did anybody stand up to them, because the class of 1996 truly had insane
bullies that pecked away at the happiness of the innocent. Losers to the core. The
posers were worse!!! Suck on that tit. Ha!
I get the last laugh while I travel to the
bank on my skateboard; because I’ve gone out on a limb; time-and-time again for
the survival of all and not only a ‘chosen few’. Please. Welcome to the 21st
Century.
My family is
SoHo and Manhattan leading the art world. Careful.
Like I don’t know what people are up to and
if they’re terrorizing the world everywhere they go.
I receive information about people that makes
me laugh because how little people change over the course of their lives.
A coward will always be a coward with their
pecker hanging in the balance. A terrorizing bully will always break down
communities in exchange for self-loathing. A ‘popular’ rhino will always kill
out of sheer egotism. And, a laughing hyena will be taken out by the powers
that be because they’re nothing but hot air and fluff and deflate easily.
This bit of writing, is, what everyone, whomever, was a bully, in our graduating
class of 1996, has been ever so afraid of having this bit, put to ink, and written
about for the entire world to witness. Ha!
Oh, Gods I’m laughing so hard. Funny! I’m
still the ‘cool kid’ and you can keep your ‘popularity’. I set the bar, quite
high, for respect, kindness and humility because that’s what we consider a
trend setter and not a trend follower. Yep.
I went to Preparatory School before the Arts
High.
Prep school was a place where we’re sculpted
for leadership.
We set out to prove our humanity and not some
empty-and-shallow concept of ‘popularity’.
I’m here to lead; not to step on others;
while, I make it to the top; because it’s always
been to the top of the mountain or bust
with laughter and forgiveness amongst friends and foes. Ha! I’m a leader. I’ve
proven leadership by-and-by.
*) No, I don’t think enough. I’m only using
10% of my brain power, if that. Pathetic, really. Ha! Now, how about those
cartoons?
October 22, 2012
Happy Monday!
Aloha.
Where shall we begin? How about we begin with
the Texan ‘two-step’? Yep.
I love the ‘two-step’.
---
--- ---
I can handle contemporary Texan racism, ten
times more, than Minnesotan racism.
I know very well, where, I stand with the
Texans and they, too, know very well, where, they stand with me as a diehard Mayan-San Salvadorian, Costa
Rican, New England-Bostonian-Minnesotan-New York-New Jersey, Iowa-Texan-Missouri-Florida-Californian-American.
Ha! Eat that for Nordic dinner tonight.
The Texans and I can share food together in
the same public spaces without any animosity or the need to throw stones at
each other because to the Texans even though I might be considered a ‘low life’
person of color; and to me, the Texans might be considered prejudiced in their ‘stone
age’ ignorance, bigotry and discrimination; who can’t laugh at that?
The Texans and I can and do most certainly
share in laughter together.
Together in unison, we make up the choir of
Christian agape love, understanding and morality.
Hence we don’t throw around ugly looks in any
public room at each another nor in restaurants and in any other public places;
simply because we practice our
‘freedom of speech’ that doesn’t constitute getting the big guns of bigotry out.
We understand that divided we’re conquered and united, we’re Americans. Love to
you, Texans.
Oh, how I miss Texas and its formal Southern
racism today! What great manners those Texans have more so than the Yanks.
I love the Texans and in some morbid racist
way they love me because we speak the truth about modern racism and we don’t
pretend like racism doesn’t exit. I love the Texans in ways that I can’t
explain to you here upon the page.
In many ways the Texans have shown me far
more respect through their racism and Christianity than the Minnesotans and
their ‘let’s pretend to be mean through ‘Minnesota Nice’ passive-aggressive
racist attitudes’. Ha! In the words of your pioneering ancestors; “Peace be
with you.”
---
--- ---
This morning at the Chrystal Perkins Restaurant,
I felt the hatred radiating from the booth behind us about our intimate
discussion about politics amongst our party. The patrons in that particular booth
were throwing horrible looks around at my friend and acting like they were more
than their valium snorting lives. Please.
Who does anybody think they are?
The rule to going out to eat in public is
this: “The Fourth Wall”.
Do you know what “The Fourth Wall” is?
The fourth wall in acting is an imaginary
wall between live theatre actors and their audiences. At all costs the actors
must maintain their composure and ‘pretend’ as well as embody the notion that
there’s a wall between them and their audiences. If the actors don’t abide by
this rule then they can and might be eaten alive by their audiences. Period.
The audaciousness of some Chrystal Minnesotan
Perkins Restaurant valium snorting horses. Please.
My conversation belongs to me and our party
and if you’re listening-in on our conversation, enough to be insulted, then
you’re either a snoop, a washed-out dragon whose ovaries don’t work anymore or who
are erectile dysfunctional or bitches (either male or female). Period.
If a Minnesotan is prepared to throw ugly
looks and mean-spirited attitudes at others in public places (especially at my
incredible friends) then be very well prepared for me to go Mayan, San
Salvadorian, Costa Rican, ‘Blue Blooded’ New England, Bostonian, Finn-Jewish
Minnesotan, New York, New Jersey on them.
Do you know what the means?
(Ripping the perpetrator, ‘the hater’, a new
one and it’ll hurt. I guarantee it.)
It means that an individual has the power of the best
of the snobbiest of-all-of the types of cultural combinations; and that’s when
an individual goes formal East Coast on another but doesn’t pretend to be ‘nice’
about it, one is simply formal and ‘cut throat’.
When this type of a warrior-human goes New
England, then we will and can rip one’s heart out and serve it to you cold and
no, not on a silver platter rather on a paper napkin to soak up the blood while
we watch you eat your inflated egos and lowbrow dispositions. Back it up. I
have the power of a wordsmith on the page as well as in the human form and in
human I do and can spit fire with the radiance of the sun and the moon.
I can go formal and deadly tribal (figuratively
speaking) at any one given point especially if my friends are in-the-line of
fire then I’ll place myself between them and the fire and reverse the bullets.
Go ahead give me a reason to quietly rip out your fat clogged artery hearts. I’ll
‘put you in your place’ in ways that you have no idea what that means. I’ll
have you licking your wounds for days.
---
--- ---
What. Do you think that I don’t know how to
speak the ‘King’s English’?
I was privately tutored by Brit-American
women (deadly combination when it comes to the King’s English) who were far
more proper than your doilies on your Grandmothers’ tables.
My best friend is an 87 year old, 100% Finn,
Role Model, Woman of great reverence. Back it up. Now.
I can look at anyone in the eye, size them up
and rip them apart with complete and utter politeness and that’s not a pretty
sight.
You’d think that that type of politeness is insignificant until it cuts through
the thick air like a knife and it leaves one gasping in horror that the truth
is always far more dangerous and
deadly than any lie or mean-spirited nasty looks from the looks of you.
Like I don’t know what ‘those’ types of
people are like. Please.
If you go out into public looking for a fight,
then you’re bound to find one.
I can guarantee that ‘people of color’ will
rage with the fire of love and hatred combined because the oppression makes us
want to cut free from our shackles and we’re ready for a fight and we’ll win.
Be quite careful, because, underneath the agape
love; rage, reigns supreme; because racism, prejudice and discrimination no
longer holds a place in these modern times. Peace at all costs, otherwise, the
deadly human alternative is, that, yes, we’re no different than lions, hypos,
and some of you; I can see are hyenas (creepy).
Even though I give everyone I meet and those which I’m formally introduced to ‘the
benefit of the doubt’ it doesn’t mean that I don’t know truths about them
simply by the way they stand or the way they eat and their dialects.
I know the King’s English and I choose not to
use it; while, I conduct a case study of my own towards the discrimination of
multi-lingual humans and their loved ones.
I’ve been dreaming in complete and fluent
Japanese, German, French and Italian for the past two months.
I’ve started conducting a case study of how
badly ‘people of color’ (more so, specifically, multi-lingual humans with
various dialects) are treated by Caucasians when
multi-lingual humans have that ‘English as a Second Language’ hesitancy in
their speech that comes with speaking more than one tongue.
---
--- ---
Last Wednesday at 11:45 A.M.; as I left my
bank I walked past an ATM machine that made a continuous beeping sound. I
turned around, walked back to the machine, pulled out the ATM card left there
by its owner and marched directly back into the bank.
I waited in line as an overweight Caucasian
woman said her goodbyes to the overweight Caucasian woman behind the front
desk.
The woman behind the desk was all smiles and
graciousness to the woman in front of me. In those mare seconds I forced myself
to think in French translate the language into Mayan, Spanish and then into
English.
I stepped forward and said this; “I was
walking past the little machine just outside, here.” I stopped to translate
further. “I heard the little machine make a beep, beep sound and I found…”
“A card stuck in the machine.” The woman cut
me off before I was done speaking.
“Yes.” I held the card and placed it on the
counter.
As I translated into three different
languages and spoke directly to the woman with the look of hatred and the devil
behind her eye; her smile went from a leftover smile (she’d given her previous
customer) into a most sour frown which transformed into a snide that held a “fuck
off” look and “don’t bother me, you twit.” She reminded me of the same type of
ignorance in hatred as my previous flat mates who walked like rhinos above our previous
flat all day long, and had no clue in the world, that, the world was out there,
waiting to lick them, hard, up-and-down the street, simply for being bitches to
humanity.
Right before I placed the card on the
counter; I thought about turning around and directly finding the owner of the
card on my own, but I knew my duties and I followed through with what I
intended to do, even though, I didn’t trust the woman behind the counter to
give the card back to its proper owner. For a moment, just for one split
second, I thought, ‘oh, my God, she’s going to keep the card for herself’.
I don’t trust service desk personnel because
I’ve found out that in Minneapolis many women working day jobs behind service
desks are prostitutes by night.
I’ve learned the most difficult lessons when
it comes to the facts of life.
Women have disclosed to me that they don’t make enough money at their
meagerly day jobs, so they prostitute themselves in the afterhours of their
minimum wage jobs and this makes them bitter as hell. I’ve been told by them
not to trust minimum wage earners behind service desks especially when it comes
to personal information such as credit cards. Pity.
Sincerely,
Gabriela
P.S. Peace.
*) Men, may the best man win the Presidential
debate tonight. I still haven’t watched the previous Presidential debate. “It
ain’t over until the fat lady sings.” Ha!
*) Oh, our beautiful Minneapolis Orchestra
musician members. How dare they lock you out! How dare them!
*) I’m being e-mailed by parents in Michele Bachmann’s district
that the meth problem is getting more severe than ever before and that their
children can’t even walk down the street to go to school and be safe and left
alone. (Please, don’t kill the messenger; I’m only passing the word along.
Thank you for informing me of such an atrocious conduct from her district.)
*) Woo-Hoo! In our district we get to vote
for Keith Ellison. This gentleman has got my
vote. I’ve always wanted to vote for him but I lived in Uptown for eight years.
*) Yes, I’ve got three thousand e-mails to get through.
Patience.
*) Oh, a ghost writer, I get it. Moving on.
Yes, I’d debate Mr. Chris Kluwe, any day of the week, yet not at
a ‘workshop’. Please.
I’ve been ‘forced’ into debate as a ‘devil’s advocate’ FOR abortion, racism, neoconservative classism and any other ‘ism’
simply because, in order for one, to be educated and sympathetic to the
opposing viewpoint then one, must know how to debate with the arguments of the
opposing viewpoint.
I believe in abortion rights and in same-sex marriage because
I’ve had to debate for such opposing viewpoints as part of intellectual
exercises and I’ve had to do it whole heartedly and win. Ha!
I haven’t, personally, believed what I’ve debated but I can still win a good debate even while
representing the opposing viewpoint of the other side.
One possibly can’t know how the other side feels about much,
unless, one argues with the vigor and strength of their opponents. Ha!
Mr. Chris Kluwe; I like his literary thoughts in his ‘Out of
Bounds’ blog (whether you have a ghost writer involved or not). Thank you. Yes,
the world’s watching and reading. I’m all, too, aware.
Yes, the world’s indeed a dialogue unless, one lives completely
as a hermit, and that I’m not. Peace.
*) Yes, I’m conducting research about drugs and it indeed is
serious business, so that I may prepare a drug documentary in the future. No, I
refuse to snort valium or any other substance up my nose and into my veins. I’ve
once more quit the Oxycodone. Thank you very much.
*) No, I’m not ‘Camille’. Please.
I’ve got too much passionate life left in me and I’m not spitting
up blood. Thank you.
I’m thinking about going dancing this week if the Minnesotans
aren’t too mean to me throughout the week.
Yes, I travel, alone and without an entourage and it most
certainly doesn’t mean that I’m alone, lonesome, or lonely for your company nor
destitute. I have thousands of people who have my back and that’s why I do and
can travel alone as an Alpha ‘lone wolf’. Ha! Ha! Ha!
No, I’m not a ‘lone wolf’.
I believe in community above all else anywhere that I’m at, in
the world!
*) No, holding many different dialects while one is translating into
several different languages and back into English doesn’t make one a ‘burn
out’, actually it makes one multi-talented, multi-dimensional and successful.
Thank you very much!
October 20, 2012
Saturday.
Yes, grammatical corrections have been made.
Remember the following rules:
Neither is for ‘Nor’.
EitheR is for ‘oR’.
Yes, the self-portraits are coming. I haven’t
been able to hold a camera since March 2012 because the pain in my wrist is
like a constant fire and all, too, human. Ha! I’m laughing. Wishing you beauty,
respect and love.
Sincerely,
Gabriela
P.S. Please, don’t make “death threats”
against Mr. Romney because it’s against the law. Please, no. Please.
Yes, indeed Mr. Romney’s Grandfather ‘skipped’
the country (the United States of America) and fled to Mexico because he had
five wives. Yes, Mormonism is indeed a cult. We hold nothing against the
Mormons and the planet ‘KOLOB’ where supposedly their God lives. Peace. The truth will
set us all free. So far as anybody knows no such planet exists as “Kolob”. Poor
Mormons. Pity.
October 19, 2012
Friday.
Aloha.
Take it away, Mr. Bill Maher. Break a leg.
Good luck!
Arrivederci.
Gabriela
*) Wow, the racism in America; no wonder I get
irritated with the world. Those intimidating and racist voter billboards sure
are freakish.
What’s with the voter intimidation?
---
--- ---
*) “The wildest ride in the wilderness.” Ha!
“Hang on to your belongings and watch them
hats and glasses.” Ha!
“Keep your hands and arms inside the car at
all times.” Ha!
“Children under four feet cannot ride.” Ha!
Ha! Ha!
---
--- ---
*) If you can’t handle the heat then don’t
read. Get out of the kitchen! Ha!
---
--- ---
*) Are you like me? When I go out in public I
get irritable because our culture at times can be so mediocre.
No, I’m not my writing, yet my writing sure
is aggressive, defensive and like a Champion athlete it knows how to... I like
competition and I like a ‘physical game’ thus that’s how I write.
---
--- ---
*) Do you know how sled dogs can be snappy
before they start running? Yep.
---
--- ---
*) I’m not as serious as you think I am. Yes,
I’m formal and respectful in person and those who know me will agree. Yes, my New
England Grandmother did well by me. Thank you “Grandme”. Love.
---
--- ---
*) Yes, I’ve noticed the pink lights around
town for breast cancer awareness month. Thank you. Nothing goes unnoticed. I
write, I notice everything even
though I don’t have tons of time to cover it all as much as I wish I did.
---
--- ---
*) To the lady Lynx! Thank you! What
incredible women!
Our family has been number one fans of the
lady Lynx since the very beginning.
Our family holds season’s tickets and I may
just go one of these years. My aunt has hardly ever missed a game in a decade, I don’t think. Those games are more
important than most things in my family. Hip! Hip! Hooray!
Yes, go Lynx ladies! What a cool coach! What
a Grizzly Mama bear!
*) Our family also holds season’s tickets to many
other events around town because we support our community but by the end of the
day, it’s tough to get me out of the house, no matter what, as my friends all
very well know, I’m introverted and a ‘homebody’ if I can help it at all costs.
I like to attend a great party but I’ve also
found out over the years that too many people drink too hard and tend to scream
and spittle while they speak as the night moves along thus, whether it’s a
tuxedo affair with white tie or not, I’d rather stay home and relax quietly.
Although sometimes, I just wish I’d get up
and go, but by then most people are in bed.
In Costa Rica we don’t step out until one in
the morning and then we dance with the passion of love, breathe with peace and
live and let live. I don’t like to get drunk but I do like to party safely
amongst people and that’s rare for Minneapolis when people have so many social
agendas, ‘everybody’s’ a fucking rock star (and nobody knows how to even play
an instrument); who want something for nothing, not even a great conversation
in exchange for…
Doesn’t anybody know how to rock and roll
anymore?
Oh, how I miss the Ticos tonight and wish to
be partying with them upon some
secret beaches (Nope. I refuse to tell you which ones.)
A good friend said to me last summer; “ ‘You always know where the best parties are
at. Yet, you prefer to hang out alone because you’re such a loner. I guess a
party has to be down to earth or out in the woods. Why do you refuse to go to parties
in town? I only wish…’ ”
Unfortunately I leave the house each and
every single day as I must and I guess that’s alright for now. We love to
entertain at home with and amongst our dearest and loveliest people. Yes, we’re
lucky we have peeps and incredible peeps who, believe it or not are real people.
Wow! Real People who don’t have the need to show off nor make it a practice to
brag constantly about their lot in life.
---
--- ---
Chris Matthews of MSNBC, what a cool man in
general, so passionate about politics! Two minutes of Chris Matthews’s show
makes me believe in this America of ours! Thank you.
Yes, we’re ready to record Rachel Maddow and her
interview with lovely Mr. Kofi Annan. How exciting. We’ll watch it tomorrow
sometime.
---
--- ---
Champagne here we come! It’s almost our Friday
night and we’re ready for the bubbly!
Yes, I like to drink like a European; one
drink a day at lunch time then I can work the calories off by the time I go to
bed. Ha!
---
--- ---
Yes, I officially found out this week that there
cannot be anything on the American flag of any type or that is indeed the
desecration of the American flag.
Any politician wearing a Secret ‘prostitute
sleeping’ Service star upon their American flag pin lapel is raping the
American flag and what it stands for. Gross. What Bostonian spoilt brats. I
don’t know any such pathetic Bostonians. I only know incredible and amazing
Bostonians who can take a punch as much as they can receive one in white tie or
not. Ha!
---
--- ---
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere very
important to be for about 30 minutes of solitary time if I get there in time,
which it’ll take me another hour to get out of the house. Thank you.
What a long and tiresome week. Cheers. Happy
weekend to you, lovely humans!
October 18, 2012
Thursday.
*) Yesterday, I kept hearing talk about
‘women full of binders’ from a comment Mr. Mitt Romney made in the second
Presidential debate and The American People are mad as the dickens about such a comment. (I’m sure that I neither
know why nor do I presume to know why, because I haven’t watched the previous
(second) Presidential debate.)
I’m not sure what context Mr. Romney
addressed “women full of binders”, but what I do know is that the American
people are ‘pissed off’ at such an off the cuff remark.
I love unplugging from mainstream mass media
because the conversations that every day
folk are having are ever so much more,
juicier, than what’s on ten minutes of Television (per day); I simply can’t fully
follow along with the conversations but I most definitely can connect the dots
with other’s explanative cuss words. Ha!
Disconnecting from mass media neither means
that I’m isolated (by any means) nor that I don’t know what’s going on in the
world because The People talk about what’s important to them and all I’m doing
is recording our era. Ha!
The more unplugged I become from mass media
then the more plugged in I become to real culture. Lovely. It’s nice to realize
and to prove that I’m not a hermit because I don’t believe in hermits nor
vigilantes as much as I don’t believe in ‘make believe’.
{I made out just fine as an A.D.H.D. adult.
Do you know what the secret to my success is; I live a happily disciplined
life of making the bed every single day, washing the dishes, wearing clean
clothes, bedtime hygiene rituals, research, moderation in everything, learning,
comprehension and understanding of the deepest sense.
As an A.D.H.D adult I come with extra sensory, of the Ut-most valuable
resource going into the 21st century and that’s my fortune waiting
for me to cash in, but for now I have responsibilities to fulfill because I
said, that I would follow through with what I started otherwise, it would be
late afternoon skateboard rides, learning to swim to become a better surfer, train
to possibly qualify for the Olympics in my sixties once I get this physical
pain under control; (I’ve always wanted to see if I could qualify in
speedskating) and since I’ve already proved that I can make millions for
others, I’ll be sitting back and enjoying the ‘fruits of my labor’, because
once I hit into full throttle then there’s no looking back.
Like I’ve written before I’m a Thoroughbred mixed-in with Wild Stallion
blood and no one can take that away from me. I’m of my own nature. Natural. A Champion
and a leader but not yet a role model because I keep swearing across the
written page as real adults do swear.
Yes, you may hate my writing but you may not hate me personally because
we’ve never been formally introduced and we’re not personal with one another.
Plus, I’ve never done, you, any harm, so step back.} Ha!
Wow, who in the hell are Mr. Romney’s social
commentators for campaign aides?
I think that Mr. Romney’s campaign has failed
him miserably because his aides are out of touch with the American public just
as much as Mr. Romney is.
{Oh,
don’t make me laugh that hard. I’m living with excruciating daily physical pain
and forfeiting the Oxycodone for a clear and capable mind. I’ll live with the
physical pain and keep my soul and mind intact, thank you very much. Plus,
Oxycodone doesn’t take away my pure pain it leaves me in complete stiff numb
pain and that’s more painful than pure pain.}
Actually, I think this ‘women full of binders’
comment has more men upset than women. Funny! Hilarious, actually. Poor Mr. Romney
and his little aides who stated that he doesn’t even know ‘how to sit on a
stool’; (I have no idea what that’s all about); one, would think that Mr.
Romney is a schmuck because he has to
practice sitting upon a stool before a debate. Has he never eaten breakfast in
his kitchen nook? I don’t get it! Mr. Romney’s campaign gets stupid by the
minute. Pity.
Mr. Romney’s campaign staff ‘must hate his
guts’ because they keep spouting hateful rhetoric that makes them seem
“socially retarded” in the same sense that homeschooled children sound, are and
seem to behave, completely out of touch
with the realities of the world. Ha! (Tongue in cheek, please don’t take my
comments too seriously otherwise you lose.) Don’t have a heart attack over what
I write.
*) “Morning Joe” on MSNBC at 7:15 A.M. Central
Time.
Wow, two minutes of that conversation; and I
thought that the man in the pink polo shirt and black sweater this morning (whatever
his name is) (Joe Scarborough) is quite pretentious, rude, disrespectful,
condescending, dismissive, belittling, dehumanizing and maniacal towards the
“blond” female co-host (Mika Brzezinski) who I
haven't always agreed with her worldview about the "Middle Income Earners";
(the politically correct term now is “Middle Income Earners” rather than
"Middle-Class" so as not to divide the country into income brackets
because we're all Americans hoping to hand off the baton of responsibility;
generation after generation otherwise when "divided and conquered",
America can only perish.)
I thought that once on a team as a team
member that, “we take care of our own”. I guess not. When people hate in life then
they sure hate. Jealousy can really rear its ugly head like Medusa’s hairdo.
Yikes.
If, one, (a man more precisely) is going to
talk about women or so much as interact with women, then why not start by asking
women questions about how they feel instead of assuming the entire world about
the bi-partisan women of America who have in fact and indeed done better economically
under the Obama Administration than in any other previous administration.
No, Mr. President Barack Obama hasn’t failed American
women.
Women are doing economically better now than
we’ve ever done before in history.
Either one is for equal pay for equal work or
one isn’t in favor for equal pay for women.
If women don’t get paid equal pay for equal
work then their families don’t get as many opportunities as women’s male
counterparts and their children.
To be against equal pay for women’s equal
work to that of their male counterparts is then to be against American
families.
There’s nothing more “heartbreaking” (not
literally) than watching two-minutes of a male bully Television co-host want to
and / or desire to beat-in-the-face of his female “co-host” on air and worse;
watching, three other men sitting at a ‘round table’ of discussion and not
speak up on behalf of an abused woman, publically ridiculed on air because
they, too, it seems must desire to beat-her-face-in or are sadomasochists and
enjoy watching women get hurt and derive pleasure from abuse; as these men
witnessed a female co-host get bullied and abused (whether it’s scripted or
not); women deserve better from their supposed professional counterparts
because there’s no such thing as equal pay for women, otherwise, men go home
and practice those dance moves, because the men are fumbling all over the dance
floor and patronizingly screaming at the women that the men’s blunders are the
women’s fault. We don’t think so!
If I ever heard one of our male contract employees
speak to one of our female contract employees in such a demeaning manner in
which this arrogant and disrespectful male is to his female co-host, then as an
Executive Producer my sole responsibility is to do no harm and; I’d call him
into my office, offer him a pink slip and “don’t let the door slam on the way
out” because his bad attitude towards the conversation about women in general
is only an indicative of what women have to put up with daily for less pay than
men and that’s a fact.
Mean-spirited men who are disrespectful in
the way in which they speak to women, such men make for horrible leaders in any
industry in the same way that “mean girls” try to get other women disgraced and
or possibly socially killed off, if they can get away with it.
Wow, I’m speechless at what men say to women
on air and how men cut women off.
It’s amazing how much a man will tell a woman
to “shut the fuck up” without having to come out and say it.
If women disagree with such rude cows for men
then these men assert empty power by saying something as stupid as “ ‘at least
I’m not obsessed’ ”.
Now, such a man with such stupid words, proves,
that he believes in belittling his female co-host simply because she disagrees
with him, because he’s never had his heart ripped out of his chest by a best
friend who became ill with schizophrenia and had to watch their friend’s quality
of life diminish by becoming obsessed with the “boogie man” outside her window.
This man has not lived a life of difficulties and strength to overcome
heartbreak in the least, therefore he creates destruction because he hates.
How rude some men can be towards women
because they’re threatened by a “Short Man’s Syndrome” “Napoleon Complex” (I
learned that term in ‘women’s studies’, sorry), or so it were to seem as one of my final analysis of some
Television men who are threatened by women who can think for themselves, are
pretty, beautiful with great classy appeal; it can only mean that these such
men, weren’t well brought up by their Grandmothers, not enough to at least be
respectful of the wombs they came from and in conversation to women in general.
Eat that for Minnesota hardy breakfast.
Cowards. I hate a male coward just as much as
I hate a fake smile. Creepy.
Arrivederci.
Gabriel
October 17, 2012
Wednesday.
Last night around 8:00 P.M. on N. Wayzata
Avenue and Theo Wirth Pkwy at the overpass of 394; Eric and I witnessed a
Minneapolis police officer, peacefully, enforce the street yarn artist
“H-O-T-T-E-A” to take down his yarn street art sculpture while the second
police officer sat in the driver’s seat of a police cop car over to the side.
The difference between Uptown and any other
neighborhood in Minneapolis is that in Uptown; street artists are apt and able
to make street art in peace while in other neighborhoods most likely the
neighbors don’t even understand the significance of this street artist and his
yarn sculptures.
I ask for any of you in power to keep an eye
on this tremendous artist creating hope through the medium of yarn sculpture
street art around and upon the streets of Minneapolis.
No, I’ve not met nor been formally introduced
to Mr. “H-O-T-T-E-A’ nevertheless, yes, Mr. “H-O-T-T-E-A” is one of my favorite
Minneapolis street artists for what he represents. Thank you.
Please keep an eye on this young man and his
hope. Thank you. If he were ever to need a lawyer then we know people who’d
take a great deal of interest in the survival of this incredible human known as
the sculpture artist “H-O-T-T-E-A”.
---
--- ---
Teens, the scientific research shows that if
you smoke marijuana then you’ll end up stupid.
Yes, lay off the marijuana until your brains
have fully finished developing at the beautiful age of 28.
That’s right, at the age of twenty eight
that’s when you’re brains will be fully matured and, if, then, you so choose to
smoke marijuana then by all means, I’m not here to tell any one adult as to how
to live.
Peace.
Gabriela
P.S. I saw so many beautiful poems this
morning such as in the form of DID man with his leaf blowing mechanism clearing
the streets for pedestrians. My favorite people out and about on the streets of
Minneapolis are DID (Downtown Improvement District) ambassadors. Gosh they’re
so cool!!!
*) Yesterday morning around 10:15 A.M. a mixed
race little girl with the most beautiful curls, held back her beautiful and
eager light chocolate brown pit bull dog from our neighbor’s backyard. I didn’t
fear him actually I liked his sweet child like disposition quite a bit.
I went outside to our side of the backyard
and stood about 50 feet away from her and told her that I was concerned for her
safety if she had in fact climbed the fence.
She informed me that she had not. I believed
her.
A Caucasian woman with pursed lips stepped out
of her home, in her bathrobe, and took the dog from the little girl with hardly
any words; she had a hardened face of years of some type of hardship and refused
to make eye contact with me. I didn’t say a word to her.
I understood very well that our neighbors
with the pit bull are renters because most property owners are eager to meet
their neighbors with whom they share property lines and normally they say
something like; “This, here, is fluffy and we’ll make sure that he doesn’t get
out again. Good day.” Good day. It’s that simple for property owners but not
for renters to make amends with their neighbors.
The Caucasian adult held the bit bull from
the other side of her fence as the little girl walked through our backyard to
cut back across through two fences about 3 feet wide apart. I didn’t scorn either one of them nor
did I call the cops.
I could feel the wrath of the adult upon the
world and decided that that was enough suffering as it were. I left it alone.
I, too, understand the suffering of others, you know?
---
--- ---
Why so many children at home in the day time
in the suburb of Robinsdale?
Does no one go to school?
I can only figure that these children are
homeschooled and I can see where our taxes are going to go towards. I’m not
happy about it. It could be debatable.
Our children will not be homeschooled and
they will indeed as a matter of fact attend the public schools here in town. If
our neighbors don’t have faith in our public school education system then we
will and we’ll get involved because our children and our neighborhood mean the
world to us.
I can see and understand that humans have
tough lives, and for that reason alone I keep hope alive. Now, go to school!
---
--- ---
Yes, I wrote that I liked watching the intro
to Ellen DeGeneres’s show however I didn’t write that I liked her show. Yes, I
believe that the Ellen DeGeneres’s show ought to live on because it creates
hope for The People, although I refuse to watch it. Ha! Peace. Moving on.
Yes, I’ve unplugged from all forms of mass
media. I’m sticking my tongue out at you. Ha! Just a little joke! Even ten
minutes of mass media a day gives me a headache. Whatever. I hate mediocrity.
No, we didn’t watch the Presidential debate
last night. I have no idea what’s going on in the world of mainstream mass
media. Wonderful.
October 16, 2012
The victor will never be asked if he told the truth.” - Adolf Hitler
“How fortunate for governments that the people they administer
don't think.” - Adolf Hitler
“The great masses of the people will more easily fall victims to a
big lie than to a small one.” - Adolf Hitler
“Universal education is the most corroding and
disintegrating poison that liberalism has ever invented for its own
destruction.” - Adolf Hitler
“The broad masses of a population are more
amenable to the appeal of rhetoric than to any other force.” - Adolf Hitler
“Who says I am not under the special protection
of God?” - Adolf Hitler
“Anyone who sees and paints a sky green and
fields blue ought to be sterilized.” - Adolf Hitler
Happy Tuesday!
Aloha.
---
--- ---
Shall we dance?
Let’s keep it kosher and let’s not dance for
money, let’s dance for freedom.
---
--- ---
A Prose Poem:
You’re right and I’m wrong! You win. Kill off
all the elderly, the students and the veterans. You’re right the average person
doesn’t matter because they refuse to think for themselves. Rape all of the
women and the little girls because according to you they don’t matter. Don’t
let the little girls and women learn to read or write. You’re right. Women who
dress like whores deserve what they get and they deserve to get fist fucked.
You’re right and I’m wrong. People don’t deserve equal rights for equal pay. You’re
right women don’t deserve equal pay for their word. You’re right and I’m wrong
people are too stupid to know better. Screw them. Steal their food, their land
along with their hope. Kill them, spit upon them and then piss upon their dead
corpses. Who cares about women and little girls, not a single damn person does,
especially not other women in power so I won’t lie to you here on this page because
the world already does enough of that! You’re right “everything” is hopeless,
shallow and idiotic. You must be right; steal their chickens and kill their
children. You must be right the female disrespectful role models hate other
women. You must be right; little girls want to be sold and wedded at the age of
five to thirty five year old men to be beaten for the rest of their lives.
You’re right nobody cares about anybody else except their egos. You’re right
everybody hates everybody so what’s the point of holding up a mirror of
literary measures and hope. You’re right and I’m wrong. You win. Fuck the crap
out of the humans because that’s where we’re headed; to hell and everybody likes
a good fuck up the ass on the way there as the priest have proven so when they
rape little Alter boys. You’re right Television role models don’t take the
lives of humans as something sacred because they live in penthouses high in the
sky where no one gets hurt. You’re right the ‘assholes’ in power are trying to
find a way to create mass genocide by having it look like a tragedy, a war and a
mistake rather than strategic mass murder. You’re right everything is a lie and
nobody gives a fuck if the ‘middle class’ lives or dies. You’re right. So,
there. How’s the hopeless truth for a
change. You’re right “every” person of color is a ‘nigger’. You’re right let
them eat cake and die. You’re right there’s no hope left in the world. You’re
right blow up the world and everything in it. You’re right, what’s the point of
hope, when it gets mocked on a daily basis. You’re right hatred is more
powerful than love. You’re right Hitler ought to become the next president of
the United States of America and kill off the ‘middle class’. Oh, how right you
are and how wrong I am to care about anything that I thought held great
sanctity in value such as breathing.
You’re so right with your hatred and I was so
wrong with my will to love.
You’re right and I’m wrong. Hatred reigns
freely in the hearts of the humans.
As a scribe I’m not here to play “patty cake”.
I’m here to hold up a mirror because that’s my job as a Mayan writer. Anything
else would be a lie.
Sod off.
Gabriela
P.S. What’s there to write about nothing?
Nothing.
October 15, 2012
*) Corrections
of the grammatical type were made.
First, I was taught that one of the most
improper aspects of journalistic and formal writing as well as public speaking
is the usage of a general “you” to indicate any specific demographic,
geographical group and specific individuals.
Second, a general “you” is slang, considered
extremely lazy and an uneducated usage to fulfill a specific term.
Third, who is “you”? Be specific or get out
of the ring.
If writers and journalists have ever been
taught by any literary masters then the masters do bust any writer’s chops to
specify who that “you” is.
Four, “you” is insulting and it means that
the writer or speaker is either handing a specific general group or a specific
individual the middle finger because either the writer or the speaker doesn’t
have the backbone or the research to specify the “you”.
Five, I use “you” because I know this rule of
thumb thus I can break it. No, I’m not a journalist nor a professional speaker
thus I can write with an open format of “anything goes” attitude because I
already know how to break many literary and social rules.
Six, no, I’m not a literal hero. I can be
heroic across the written page, however, it’s been pointed out to me that I’m a
‘no one’; a ‘nobody’ and I got that memo loud and clear. Thank you.
As a matter of fact from having close
relationships to close private school friends who turned out to be
schizophrenic and died in mid twenties as well as volunteering around marijuana
smoking dirty “Hippie” adults at a food drive, I’ve learned that that pocket of the underbelly
culture are quite paranoid and I find that paranoia makes people delusional
with self importance.
I don’t get self importance. I don’t
understand self importance because as a non-delusional human I know my place in
culture and society and that’s “nowhere” as far as you’re concerned (actions
speak louder than words). Even the dirty “wanna-be Hippies” treated me
niggardly when I was volunteering for their “feed the hungry” cause. Bastards.
Seven, no I’m not a hero but I can be heroic.
I know what I am in America; a nigger. Thank you. American culture is indeed
racist and it hates with all its might. I get it.
In conclusion; I’m not personally insulted for myself; however I’m insulted for
the general American public when Mrs. Lara Logan stated the following in her
speech; “To think that there’s any similarity between this and Vietnam is
ridiculous.”
Please don’t feed the general public such
bull.
Al-Qaeda and the Taliban are indeed a
terrorist insurgence, however, yes, this is our “Vietnam II” and no, I’m not
delusional about that point made.
The media and its representatives don’t get
to tell the general public what this war means to us, we, get to tell the media
and their representatives, what our point of view is, and if “we don’t get it”,
then the media and their personnel have failed us, because we haven’t failed
them as our young fight this Afghanistan war for this country and no, we’re not
ridiculous in our thinking. We see
our wounded soldiers and we live with the reality of what our families must endure in the decades to come. Please.
Who the hell does anyone think they are?
Yes, indeed our veterans; OUR veterans in our family have come home psychologically damaged with PTSD, in
shock and broken no differently than the men of Vietnam who got forgotten by an
entire Nation.
Don’t give me that because our family
sacrificed our young for further lies in this Afghanistan war no differently
than those families in the Vietnam era who gave up their young for a lost
cause.
I know when I’m being lied to and I already
know that we’ve been lied to for the past 11 years of war, more specifically
the general American public has been lied to.
Please, don’t call us “ridiculous” in our
thinking; please don’t add salt to our deep injuries and wounds of war.
Who is the American government kidding? We’re
not children.
I get the extend and the seriousness in the gravitas
of this war situation because our family members will be scared out of their
wits and have nightmares for possibly decades to come and it’s our
responsibility to bring them back to health while the military denies them
their medical dues.
Please, Mrs. Logan, don’t be so insulting. We
get it. We know what’s going on and our family military members are anything
but ridiculous. Please don’t insult our American families and their military
members because this is indeed our “Vietnam II”.
I could write a dissertation about the similarities
between Afghanistan and Vietnam veterans returning from a broken war that we’re
meant to win against an enemy and an opponent that believes to the death for
what they fight, thus no holds barred.
Please, no. We get it! The Vietcong were a powerful enemy and so is this
terrorist insurgence called the Taliban and al-Qaeda. We’re not as stupid as we
may look.
Sincerely,
Gabriela
P.S. Any human on Television who spreads the
malarkey that ‘the process’ in debate doesn’t matter is either an idiot, a liar
or delusional. Period. Of course, debate formats matter. Debate is a cross
examination to finding the truth.
There are still some incredibly important
processes upheld in our civilized world. If the debate process doesn’t matter
then nothing matters and everything falls apart. I refuse to believe that the
debate process doesn’t matter because I believe in civilized civilization.
*) Nope, I’ve never, not once been on a
cruise ship nor do I intend to. Thank you.
PEACE. Peace.
October 15, 2012
“Politics and prostitution
have to be the only jobs where inexperience is considered a virtue. In what
other profession would you brag about not knowing stuff? “I’m not one of those
fancy Harvard heart surgeons. I’m just an unlicensed plumber with a dream and
I’d like to cut your chest open.” - Tina Fey
“I
believe that sex is one of the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that
money can buy.” - Steve Martin
“Churchill:
"Madam, would you sleep with me for five million pounds?" Socialite:
"My goodness, Mr. Churchill... Well, I suppose... we would have to discuss
terms, of course... "
Churchill: "Would you sleep with me for five pounds?"
Socialite: "Mr. Churchill, what kind of woman do you think I am?!"
Churchill: "Madam, we've already established that. Now we are haggling
about the price” - Winston Churchill
“Feminists
know that if women are paid equal wages for equal work, women will gain sexual
as well as economic independence. But feminists have refused to face the fact
that in a woman-hating social system, women will never be paid equal wages. Men
in all their institutions of power are sustained by the sex labor and sexual
subordination of women. The sex labor of women must be maintained; and
systematic low wages for sex-neutral work effectively force women to sell sex
to survive. The economic system that pays women lower wages than it pays men
actually punishes women for working outside marriage or prostitution, since
women work hard for low wages and still must sell sex. The economic system that
punishes women for working outside the bedroom by paying low wages contributes
significantly to women's perception that the sexual serving of men is a
necessary part of any woman's life: or how else could she live? Feminists
appear to think that equal pay for equal work is a simple reform, whereas it no
reform at all; it is revolution. Feminists have refused to face the fact that
equal pay for equal work is impossible as long as men rule women, and
right-wing women have refused to forget it.” - Andrea Dworkin
“Surely
the freedom of women must mean more to us than the freedom of pimps.” - Andrea Dworkin
--- ---
---
Debate:
A
formal discussion on a particular topic in a public meeting or legislative
assembly, in which opposing arguments are put forward.
Of course, a debate is formal in manner, but
don’t confuse it with “formal discussion” because it’s not a chat in your
living rooms in communication, it’s a platform for arguments to be made, cross
examined and won with facts and figures. Thank you.
---
--- ---
Happy Monday!
Aloha.
---
--- ---
Shall we dance?
Yes, it’s the last civil conduct left in the
world because music exists.
---
--- ---
*) Wow, I didn’t know that in the 1950’s the “upper-class”,
“the rich”, “the wealthy”, upper incomers paid 90% in taxes.
How wonderful!
It’s been done before and it can be done
again.
For a multi-millionaire to only pay 15% in
taxes is a complete joke and every middle income American earner knows that and
so does the upper incomers.
Upper incomers know that they’re part of the
problem more so than the solution. What a turn off. I thought that money was an
aphrodisiac but that doesn’t seem to be the case for the past decade of upper
income earners who hoard their money away in foreign banks such as the Cayman
Islands and Switzerland while everybody else starved and fights for their
freedoms. Show The People the money!
---
--- ---
*) Now, it’s been explained to me that the
Middle East has no interest in blowing up America so long as we’re not
occupying Afghanistan and get out of their turf. It makes sense to me because I
wouldn’t like the Taliban and al-Qaeda to occupy American turf.
The only reason as to why the Middle East is
‘mad as the dickens’ at the American government is because the American
government continues to go into the Middle East and occupy, ‘all in the name’
of oil while oil conglomerates hide behind the skirt hem of the American
government. Alright. Weirdoes. Yep.
Now, it’s been explained to me that the
greatest lie is staying in Afghanistan until the year 2014.
The American government ought to get our
troops out of Afghanistan and it could be done today but our government doesn’t
because while the American government ‘is down on its knees, giving head’ to
the oil companies everybody loses
because the American government refuses to properly tax the oil companies for
the services that the government continually provides in ‘putting out’ while
the American People lose big time is truly a tragedy. Sad, really.
---
--- ---
*) I don’t believe in the Republican Party,
the GOP or the Tea Party because many of their women who represent such groups
dress like whores. (There, it’s right here for you to read in black ink in the
year 7012.) Yep.
My Grandmother was a true Republican and she
dressed in the loveliest Channel suits and didn’t have the need to expose her
vagina nor her breasts to the world. My Republican Grandmother had been a true
beauty since her earlier years, and, one, never
saw the outline of my Grandmother’s vagina and that’s beauty, strength and true
poetic femininity that barely exist in today’s mass media culture of supposed role
models.
Now, days it seems that many Republican women
don’t know what a real pearl necklace looks like and they dress like whorish
cocktail waitresses waiting for the bottom of their vaginas to drop out.
Many Republican women will go on National Television
and make a spectacle out of themselves by stating loudly that they have dry
vaginas under their dresses simply because they’re so eager “to give it all
away” on Television.
Republican women leave absolutely nothing up
to the imagination because such women are delusional about their sexuality and
they can’t possibly take their positions in life nor their responsibilities as
role models quite seriously and no, I don’t mean amongst children but amongst
other adult men and women in general because real time is nothing like
Television time.
Now, I think all women are beautiful.
I don’t believe that American women have to give it all away to feel like
they belong, as though they’re truly someone and have value because the more
these such women give their sexualities away on Television then the more they
seem desperate as though they haven’t gotten laid in a decade. The more the
desperation, then, it seems the less the pleasure.
I didn’t know that Ann Coulter was a
cocktail Television whore.
I guess that being a prostitute and a
journalist constitutes the same definition as of now in contemporary mass media
culture. Real women aren’t so pathetic as that.
No, I’ve not had to whore myself and that’s
why the corporate world doesn’t understand me, but wouldn’t they love to get a
piece of that. Please.
---
--- ---
*) No, I’m not a journalist, nor do I pretend
to be one nor do I care to become one, however. It seems as though for the past
decade most of the female journalists of America decided to throw away their
educations along with the memo that any woman who decides to have their tits
and vaginas showing on National Television don’t get taken seriously by both adult
real time men and women because it’s impossible to believe that those
journalists are real and honest service women of the press core. No way. Those
are cocktail whores.
I was taught by some of the best educators in
journalism in the world that a decent, modest and honorable dress code on any
journalist meant that they were real and great at what they did because it
meant that a reporter had true integrity and they didn’t have to expose
themselves and lower themselves to cheap theatrics such as cheap, tight and
tablecloth clothing. I was taught that a real journalist could stand upon the
basis of their great work and not their private parts.
{I love
the beautiful suits and ties that the male journalists wear on Television in
today’s contemporary major network news outlets. These men for heroes look
ready to ‘rock and roll’ the facts in their gorgeous attire. These men for
heroes look ready for real business and “hard line” news as well as they look greatly
educated who got the memo and took it seriously because the service that these
news men provide in contribution is serious work and it can either save people
or get them killed just by what they wear. People who watch journalists take
their dress cues from them and these men of the past decade are real pros. Thank
you. Thank you for being real men of the world; classy and culturally appropriately
inclined.}
While many of these great male journalists who
do their work to represent themselves with integrity; it seems as though that
many of their female counterparts didn’t grow up and still dress ready for the
bar and to get laid after the weather forecast. I don’t take too many female
journalists seriously simply because the dress materials they wear on
Television are cheap looking, sometimes, dirty and wrinkled and well, they look
like cocktail waitresses more than professional journalists.
Any woman who wears a plunging neckline to
their waists, isn’t really a journalist; she’s just trying to cover up the fact
that’s she’s most likely really bad at her job or possible worse, she’s
mediocre; and has nothing intelligent to contribute to her industry; therefore
she sells her vagina and tits; just so the viewer won’t really notice that
she’s an idiot; and doesn’t understand that the stakes are indeed high;
therefore she’ll never be much else other than a cocktail Television whore and
she knows that she’s standing in quick sand and sinking quickly to her death
(figuratively speaking).
She must stride to be better than that
because on the ground women die and if she doesn’t understand that then she
ought not to get noticed for her meager journalist efforts and she ought to
cling to the bottom rung and stay there because she refuses to improve her
methods in contribution to a world who’s so desperately searching for
excellence in role models and hope. Period.
Women of the press core; get it through your
thick skulls; real time women get raped on the ground because uneducated,
conniving, miserable, predatory and dishonorable men are constantly waiting for
their opportunity to pounce upon women.
Open up your eyes to the world.
Your careers and climbing the ladder of corporate
“success” isn’t the only important thing in the world if the women on the
ground get raped and sexually molested on your behalf. Yep.
That responsibility just got put on you because it’s always belonged to you; you just haven’t
wanted to face it lately and the same goes for NFL cheerleaders and any others on
National Television because you have
one job to fulfill amongst many duties.
(I just gave away the first four chapters for
free and yes, I can and possibly will write about how much the women of the
press core and cheerleaders have failed the women of real time on the ground.)
Don’t give me that look, I was trained in newsrooms by “Minnesota nice
bitches” who only cared about their hair and makeup; I was taught to know how
and when a woman will dig a spade into your back and smile while she’s walking
away knowing perfectly well that the other is bleeding to death from a severe
blow to her humanity even though she’s not even the competition because she’s
behind the scenes. Freaks of nature. I’ve got you by the balls now because I’m
Blue Blooded amongst mortals and you well, you’re just you. What more is there
to be said about nothing? Nothing. Please.
I hate seeing women’s vagina’s on Television even
when they sit down with their legs tightly close together and their skirts are
too short for them. When facing the camera straight ahead, guess what? Peekaboo!
The whores are back! We can see their crotches, anyway, no matter how modestly
they pretend to sit. If I were a producer in a newsroom (which I don’t want to
be one) I would’ve cared enough about our women to tell them that their
crotches are still peeking through, especially the more tightly they place
their legs together. A free freak show!!!
No wonder little girls are sold in commercials
like wet vaginas. Wow!
Many Americans like to make whores out of our
little girls early on in their careers because mass media hates women.
Hatred is the only analysis I’ve arrived at
and I can’t wait to conduct a case study of women in commercials and mass media
and to write a thesis about “the American little girl’s whore phenomenon in
commercial making and selling of products”.
Wow! How the cycle of female hatred just gets
perpetuated. Women hatred of women. So easy to see right through it. So
transparent. I’d rather buy any product from adults (who understand the
implications of selling products) or from animation than from little commercial
American girl whores. No wonder child sexual abuse reigns freely in America.
Why are little girls and women so hated by
mass media?
What did we ever do to mass media but to sell
their stupid, cheap and senseless products for them? Why so much hatred of the
portrayal of women and little girls in mass media like vaginas to be raped and
nothing more than a tool for that.
I just gave you a thesis for free because
when I get to do my Ph.D. on this subject in the next two decades, then I’ve
decided to lick mass media across the floor. I’m coming. Slowly but surely I’m
a wild Stallion out of the gates but once I get up to full speed, watch out.
I’m winning this race and no, I don’t need anyone’s permission to run at full
speed ahead.
The main reason as to why I refuse to keep
watching (RT) Russian Television is because while their international reporting
surpasses most of the networks; their
women look like cheap whores in their attires and since I almost made a
professional documentary about prostitution in Minneapolis but decided to go
against the project at the last minute only because my safety was compromised
by the West Bank’s, Seward Neighborhood’s “Hippie-wanna-bes” sexual predators
and the North Minneapolis African-American prostitutes and their pimps (the
same thing goes for both pockets of these communities); I find that the same
fashions are worn by prostitutes as they are found on news women, reporters,
anchors and journalist thus I correlate the two in the same category and now
50,000 of you can have the same imagery inside your heads as I do.
I find that both demographic groups of women
dress alike and therefore, both are cut from the same cloth, prostitution.
One, prostitutes their bodies, while the
other prostitutes the idea of selling information with a dry pussy. One has a
wet pussy and the other is dry. With a prostitute, at least, one, can have the
service of sex and an opportunity for an organism while with female journalists
all they are is cock-teases with nothing substantial behind it except made up information
and if they ‘get lucky’, maybe, just maybe they
may just get meager morsels of information factually correct but most often
than not they get the scraps off the floor. I’ve seen it. It’s not funny,
actually its pitiful and I do have enough heart to grant mercy to those who
have no idea how high the stakes are beyond their noses and their careers. I
thought journalists were the heroes of the world. I guessed wrong.
I know what it’s like to be privileged to
factual information while watching reporters scramble for theirs. Ha! While I
was the ‘good for nothing’ Indian working behind the scenes as a floor director
at $6.18 per hour (2001-2003) watching high school dropout pregnant women and
less educated male colleagues pass me by in promotions; I could pick up the telephone
anytime to Washington and ask “How do you do? What happened?” Ha! Oh, don’t
make me laugh so hard. Please, no. I’m sorry. I’m being a dick and you know it
but the thing is that I get the last laugh as any oppressed human can tell you
that that’s just the way ‘the cookie crumbles’. Ha!!!
*) In conclusion; I used to debate in college
and I was a soft spoken, calm, cool and relaxed debater. With me, there was no
cheap theatrics, no laughing, no smiling and no drinking 8 gallons of water.
With me, and my debate style in format and tactics there was only information,
facts, numbers, data and figures. I wasn’t going to charm nor please the crowd.
I was only going to state my points and rebuttal my arguments because the
research alone just about killed me. Thank you.
Laughter is simply a debate tactic to throw
off an opponent. Fine.
I don’t like laughing unless I’m genuinely
laughing out loud at the absurdity of any points made in falsehood by my
opponents and then I simply have to laugh whole heartedly at their
unpreparedness in a debate. Come to the podium prepared to debate not prepared
to prance around with hot air rhetoric like an idiot who doesn’t know that
people die on the ground. What does one think this is finger painting class?
Think again because we don’t think so.
May the best man win the Presidential debate!
“It ain’t over until the fat lady sings.” Ha!
Now, I do and will for the rest of my eternal
life, believe that Mr. President Barack Obama won the first presidential debate
2012 for the mere fact that he stated facts while Governor Mitt Romney couldn’t
state one single fact. In my humble opinion Governor Mitt Romney lost the first
Presidential debate by a landslide. Although, I’ve been informed that whomever
wins the first presidential debate normally loses the candidacy for president
of the United States of America. Okay.
I didn’t realize that in debate one had to
entertain the crowd. Please.
Who does most of American public think they
are when they don’t even know what a debate tactic is, nor a debate style in
format.
Yes, any athlete can psyche out their
opponent but as any great athlete will tell you, they concentrate on bringing
on their best game face on game day
and they leave it at that, because an athlete isn’t there solely to entertain,
they’re there to be excellent, make mistakes, be human and win cleanly at all
costs but not at the expense of their opponents.
A glorious athlete will forfeit any race,
stop, go back and pick up their opponent from the course and carry them on
their back knowing that their heroics will go down on any history book any day
of the week over winning.
Now, winning isn’t everything (that’s the
greatest American lie that “winning is everything”) because what’s the point of
winning if one’s opponent is bleeding from their Achilles tendon and no one
does anything about it; except, to step over them or on them; then the race is
lost by each and every single individual running the course, no matter, how
great each athlete may be, because they have, all, as a collective brought shame to their sport. A truth.
Great feats of excellence very rarely win
races but they do win the glory and triumphant significance of the human condition
in heroics and that’s what winning is all about; knowing perfectly well, that,
one, can win the race, but instead one cares enough about others; because a Champion
knows very well, that they can win with their eyes closed, any day of the week,
thus their eyes are opened to the perils of others.
A Champion knows what it means to hurt and to
lose, thus, winning isn’t everything when, one, can be a gracious human, then,
one, is truly a winner; not a winner of competition per say but of the human heart; and that’s what I was taught
America is all about; We don’t leave our brothers and sisters behind, bleeding
in the mud, otherwise, what’s the point of competition; it’s bland and
superficial to think that races are won with the blood of others rather races
are won by the sweat of all.
Don’t give me that look. I was a prep first and I’ll always be a preppy then I became a jock
and I know the sensation of speedskating at Nationals at the tender age of
sixteen; then I strived for the professional arts and the only reason why I’m a
disciplined professional artist is because I stand and live by a strong code of
honor taught in private academic education, I carry the heart of a Champion and
I know hard work and discipline makes the man thus it made a woman out of me.
Arrivederci.
Gabriela
P.S. Yes, I’m a thoroughbred, Wild Stallion.
I’m out of the gates this morning and running furiously as my nostrils expand
and contrast and my skin perspires cold sweat mixed in with fog.
*) Etiquette 101; One, doesn’t take a seat,
unless it’s been officially offered to, one, otherwise it indicates the
self-centeredness in human attitude, idiotic behavior in indulgence and the
self delusion of importance and entitlement; that goes for children especially
in front of the world and while the world’s watching.
Children aren’t exempt from etiquette; not
even if their politician father’s sale their female children like whore-slaves
on political stages. How embarrassing and uncouth of any man to do just that to
his female family members; that tells you that such a man is not prepared to lead
anything much less his own family. Women aren’t for sale.
October 12, 2012
NOTES:
*) Are you serious!
Yes, I’m writing metaphorically!
Who do you think that I am, the Joker? Please.
I meant to write ‘serious with a “FAKE smile”’
and I only smile when I’m alive therefore, I don’t “FAKE smile” my way
through anything. Get off your high horses! Try “fake smiling” your way through
anything; it looks more like grimacing. Ridiculous.
A smile is sunshine and as everybody already
knows, sunshine can’t be faked. Smiling is pure, golden and warm like life.
Wow! I love life and I love smiling because it’s neither deadly nor fake.
Have you ever been given a fake smile? It
leaves, one, cold and shivering to the marrow of the bone with a chill sweat. A
fake smile sure isn’t pretty. I’d rather frown, then fake smile anything.
When I smile, I mean it; and it’s all about,
‘love and not war’ nor “make believe”.
---
--- ---
*) “All’s fair in love and war.”
I did in fact take points off to Mr. Vice President Joseph Biden Jr. for
not thanking his opponent at the end of the debate however.
I didn’t take points off to his Mr. Vice
President’s smile and grinning as part of his debate fighting style in format in
tactics because that’s his prerogative just as it is a woman’s prerogative to
change her mind on anything at any given time.
Debating is not like any other form of
communication.
Debating is neither a conversation, nor much
less a formal one at that because debating is point making and rebuttals which
is very rarely done in relaxed conversation.
The reason why there’s a moderator is simply
and only to keep time, aspects of the debate moving along, to his or her
desired pace and to keep things kosher, respectful without lies.
Now, however a boxer’s style of boxing is his
or her own.
A boxer, will box yet NEVER and I mean never with the intent to
murder inside the ring, but he doesn’t
mind if he “knocks out” his opponent and no, I don’t mean it literally.
If two debating opponents nearly come to blows
then something’s gone terribly wrong and the moderator ought to get their butts
licked (not literally) for being that bad at their jobs.
In conclusion, if a debate comes to near
blows then everyone has done a terrible job, because the entire point to
debating is to ‘get inside the ring’ without physically nor literally striking
a blow at anyone except with their debating points and that’s that.
In other words, that’s final.
If any debaters almost come to physical blows
then the audience ought to boo because that’s a bad show. Period. Thank you.
Goodness. Don’t tell me we’ve lost the art of debate in America. Where’s our high
class American civics classes gone? We want our Education back in schools!
---
--- ---
*) No, I didn’t write that I’m the character
of ‘Aunt Hetty’.
I wrote that my writing has the ‘voice’ of
the character ‘Aunt Hetty’.
Yes, the actress Jackie Burroughs has
indeed passed on and she was the only famous person that I ever wanted to meet.
Oh, what a tremendous loss to the world.
October 12, 2012
“Earlier feminists were almost universally pro-choice and have
dominated political debate until now. Having access to abortion was viewed as
the only way women could have full equality with men, who, until recently,
couldn't get pregnant.” - Kathleen Parker
Happy Friday!
Aloha.
---
--- ---
Shall we dance? Yes, absolutely.
I love to dance because it’s as close as I
can get to flying and skateboarding.
---
--- ---
I’m wishing you an amazing weekend amongst
loved ones and respected ones.
We’re so lucky to be visiting with and
hosting our loved ones from Iowa this weekend. We’re ready to host and to treat
our guests like Royalty because in our eyes they are incredible humans. We’re
so lucky to know so many kind and warm, generous and honest farmers and farming
families across the United States of America.
Now, my writing voice has a stern modern (‘Aunt
Hetty’) sound to it and I’m alright with that. I love the character of ‘Aunt
Hetty’ from the Anne of Green Gables
Chronicles. Why wouldn’t I?
She’s a fierce and strong character for any
era.
Her character won’t let anybody get away with
lies, bad manners and dishonesty because that’s how cool her character is.
If I ever met the actress I’d probably go
mute for a few moments because what’s one to say to greatness? Nothing. Except
to breathe calmly and with reverence for their service to her king and Country.
(I think I heard a friend mention in
passing that the actress has already passed away. I wasn’t completely listening.)
I have yet to research that…
---
--- ---
*) Okay aside from ‘Aunt Hetty’s’ character of
sternness and a forthcoming writing attitude:
Are you to tell me that the Secret Service
endorses the desecration of the American flag?
So it’s alright for the Secret Service to
desecrate the American flag?
We don’t think so; We, The People.
As far as my non-amnesia brain can tell,
wasn’t the Secret Service recently caught with their pants around their
Columbian ankles? Yes? Yes.
I thought that the Secret Service got caught
sleeping with Columbian prostitutes. Tongue
in cheek: There’re a couple of role models for, you, desecrating the
American flag while sleeping with prostitutes. Ah, what’s this world coming to?
It’s not good enough. It won’t do. It can’t do. Get it out of here. How vulgar
indeed.
Yes, I love the character of ‘Aunt Hetty’!
She’s so damn cool!!! She cares what the truth is and what happens to people.
---
--- ---
*) If you guys and gals think that I’m
serious as a person then think again because you’ve never met me before.
I love to laugh out loud, dance with love and
eat well with thoughtfulness.
Do you know how much I have to hold in my
laughter while I write? Please.
I laugh all the time, because the world is
indeed silly.
How can I not laugh every single day?
Don’t take my writings so seriously that you
get angry because this is my outlet for making sense out of a dysfunctional
world and yes, I’m deadly serious with a “FAKE smile” (which is impossible to
“fake” a real smile when one is genuine). Please. Try not to be so dense when
it comes to writing because a writer is only trying to create a picture to get
the reader to expand their minds. I’m not the Joker. Get off your high horses.
When I got cancer I learned to warmly smile and mean it because I believe in
life not death. Thank you.
When children and women’s rights are
threatened then I’m deadly (figuratively speaking) like a Grizzly Mama Bear. (I’m a writer don’t take me so literally.
I’m my own hero across the page (tongue in cheek); and in life; I’m flesh and bone; dust to dust; I’m real and human
and I, too, shall die that’s why life means so much to so many).
I’m proud to
be in love with the world so
tremendously that I’m willing to take
the time to write about it; otherwise, those species of flowers are on hold
while I write about our modern era. I was meant to be a horticulturist but
instead I became a professional quiet artist living a peaceful life and
developing a feisty writer’s voice. Ha!
---
--- ---
*) What’s “Soul Train”? (I’ll research it!)
I just found out (as of about a month ago) that
Mrs. Ellen DeGeneres has had a Hosting Television Show for a decade.
Congratulations!
I watch the Intro of Mrs. Ellen DeGeneres’s Show
just to see her dance at the intro because she is a great dancer.
For those of you in the year 7012; not only
is this woman, Ellen DeGeneres lovely, beautiful and smart but she is truly
funny and the American People love her for her great contribution to humor and
kindness in these difficult times of “Vietnam II” and “The Great Depression II”.
I applaud her efforts and laugh whole
heartedly along to her magnificent beauty. Thank you.
Since I’m to do absolutely nothing for the
next 12 weeks of physical therapy; I’ll be watching the intro to Ellen’s Show.
I had no idea Ellen had a show. Yes, I do
live under a rock and a huge pile of books, thousands of books I have yet to
get through. Yes, the world is watching Ellen DeGeneres bring and keep hope
alive.
No, I’m not going out of my way to meet Mrs.
Ellen DeGeneres because I’m not a Sycophant. Ha!!!
---
--- ---
*) Yes, I was having an intense conversation
with a close friend that I’ve known since I was twelve years old and I was
complaining in the summer of 2010 about women’s army bullet proof vests and how
women’s uniforms and combat outfits don’t fit them properly and that such suits
could and do get our military women killed.
My friend told me that the money wasn’t
there.
I’ve heard recently that there’s a Minnesota
woman in the army who’s making the effort to bring bullet proof vests to our
American military women in Afghanistan. Thank you. Your efforts won’t go
unnoticed.
We’ll see what we can do on our end…I’ll pass
the word on to people who are far more influential, have far more power and
money then I do. I don’t forget the reality of our American military women and
how they get raped in the army by our own boys. Vulgar indeed. With love, we
think of you dear ladies each and every single day.
Peace.
Chillax. Chill out. Tranquillo. Life is
difficult and yet absolutely wonderful! You’re beautiful as you are. Believe in
this great country of ours. I believe in you because I can only hope that you
believe in yourselves.
Arrivederci.
Gabriela
October 11, 2012
“It is time... to end the long-standing and unproductive
methodological debate over 'originalism' versus 'dynamism' or 'evolution' and
focus instead on how, as a substantive matter, we should interpret the
Constitution in the twenty-first century, and what it has to say on questions
unimaginable to our eighteenth-century Framers.” - Dianne Wood
Congratulations Mr. Vice President Joseph
Biden Jr. on your win in this 2012 Vice Presidential debate. Yes, as a matter
of fact; Mr. Vice President Joseph Biden Jr. won more points.
Thank you.
Gabriela.
P.S. What does a man’s personal religious
beliefs; have to do with how he will lead a country? Congressman Paul Ryan
believes in taking away the rights to abortion. How bizarre is he?
Furthermore, Congressman Ryan believes that
2014 is a “tentative” timeline for our troops to come home; whatever. Our
troops are as a matter of fact coming home in 2014.
In conclusion, Paul Ryan’s children were such
a turn off by sitting down in the debaters seats at the end of the debates
without being asked to take a seat. What a disgusting and rude gesture on the
part of those two children; that, tells, one, a lot about their parents.
*) The fact that the lapel flag pins became
such an issue on social media indicates how aware people are of the desecration
of the American flag.
So, does that mean that the Secret Service is
endorsing the GOP Party because I thought the Secret Service was on the American
People’s side not politicians; What a turn off to say the least.
Is the Secret Service endorsing the GOP?
If that is so, then every Independent voter
who’s undecided ought to side with Mr. President Barack Obama on that point, alone, and vote for Mr.
President Barack Obama.
---
--- ---
Answer the damn questions! Yes or No!
Yes, Congressman Paul Ryan will make abortion
illegal and then American women will go to jail. What a crazy man!!! What is he
thinking? My goodness, can you imagine entire jails full of women standing up
for their rights?
October 11, 2012
“I never let politics get personal. You can have the most intense,
heated debate on issues, and so long as you keep it on issues, you can go out
and have coffee afterwards and you're good friends.” - Phil Crane
Why is Congressman Paul Ryan’s American flag lapel
pin desecrated?
Any man who desecrates the American flag is
not ready for the Oval Office.
Thus, far Vice President Joe Biden is winning
this debate.
I’m counting. Yes, points made do matter in
debates.
Please don’t make fun of the fact that the
economy is better today than it has been in the past 4.5 years. Please, no.
Otherwise, it’s making fun of the good American People.
The GOP Party created the debt we’re in
today. It was the Bush Administration who put two wars on a credit card and
that’s what Congressman Paul Ryan did. Fact.
Oh, my goodness, Mr. Vice President Joseph
Biden Jr. sure is funny.
Yes, Congressman Paul Ryan would like to kill
off Medicare. Crazy!!!
Arrivederci.
Gabriela
October 11, 2012
“Those who cannot understand how to put their thoughts on ice
should not enter into the heat of debate.” -
Friedrich Nietzsche
“I love argument, I love debate. I don't expect anyone just to sit
there and agree with me, that's not their job.” - Margaret Thatcher
“I
don't debate with liars.” - Evo Morales
“As Congress continues to debate ways to address illegal
immigration, we must remember the many hard-working legal immigrants that
contribute so much to our nation's economy and culture. - Bob Filner
“I'm not shy about heated debate or passionate discourse, but when
people get crazy or rude, that's a buzz kill. There's got to be a better code
of conduct, some basic etiquette.” - Mos Def
Happy Thursday!
Aloha.
(For those of you in the year 7012 the humans
are celebrating the following)
Happy Breast Cancer awareness month!
Happy Anti-bullying awareness month!
Happy Disability awareness month!
Wow, lots happening.
---
--- ---
Shall we dance? Yes! I love to dance.
After I heal from this physical pain I’m
taking myself dancing. In November it’ll be a year since I’ve danced.
---
--- ---
*) Men, may the best debater win the Vice Presidential
debate tonight.
“It ain’t over until the fat lady sings.” Ha!
I love opera.
*) To the parents of San Antonio, Texas in
the most impoverished school districts; please don’t allow for your children to
be forced by the school district into wearing micro-chip name tags because
that’s indeed the “mark of the beast” (666) as well as the micro chips increase
the cause for breast cancer in the same way that cell phones do.
*) Yes, cell phones will increase the chances
for cancer. Whatever you do please don’t carry your cell phones on your bodies.
*) No, I don’t believe in “Conspiracy
Theories” but I do love to read, listen and debate a good conspiracy theory.
Why not? I’m open-minded, as I must be as an intellectual.
*) Yes, the Taliban is stronger and growing
in numbers as they have ever been. Fact.
*) Discrimination is the down fall of
civilizations.
With much love and respect;
{Whatever
you may think about my writing, my closest friends consider me one of the
sweetest people and I believe them, I do.} Everybody else can go pick their
noses.
Gabriela
Peace.
October 10, 2012
“A good leader can engage in a debate frankly and thoroughly,
knowing that at the end he and the other side must be closer, and thus emerge
stronger. You don't have that idea when you are arrogant, superficial, and
uninformed.” - Nelson Mandela
Happy Wednesday!
Aloha.
---
--- --
Shall we dance? No, Absolutely not!
---
--- ---
A word to the wise…
The reason as to why children should not and ought not to take on adult
roles and responsibilities is because our global children will get killed,
murdered. Period.
Adults have a job and it’s up to the adults
to step up to the plate and do their jobs, not for children to be doing the
jobs of the adults simply because the adults are afraid, scared and without a
voice.
It’s neither okay nor the job for our global children
to be spokespersons, campaigners and politicians because those roles belong to the
adults and the adults only. Period.
The adults are quite aware that the stakes
are indeed high and death is attached to such roles in responsibilities.
No, children aren’t professional artists,
politicians or campaigners because these roles would then require for our
children to place their lives on the line and to die for their beliefs if need be while children ought to be in
school not pretending to be adults rather being children dreaming about what
they’ll become when they grow up.
Now, if the Pakistani people are afraid of
the Taliban then so be it but children ought not to get killed and murdered
simply because children are the only ones willing to speak the truth about
their cultural hardships. Please, no. Please don’t get our global babies
killed.
I refuse to read blogs by children, watch
interviews with children and to listen to them when it comes to politics,
economics and any other adult subject matter because if you don’t know, then
allow for me to make it quite clear to you; adult subject matters come with
great responsibility, consequences and seriousness.
I refuse to allow for our global children to
play the role of martyrdom and to get exploited as meat by the mass media.
No, absolutely not!!!
Children have no business pretending as
though they can run the world simply because the adults aren’t doing it. I
don’t take children seriously when it comes to adult subject matter and neither
should you otherwise, it’ll get children killed, murdered.
Adults such as, myself, refuse for our global
children to be killed in the name of campaigning, politics and media spotlight because
I’m a responsible adult who understands what the stakes are thus I’m a
professional artist and we understand those implications because we’re not
fools and this isn’t a game. Nope. No, patty cake over here. People really do
die for their right to freedom.
Peace.
Gabriela
*) Please don’t mislead the American people
into believing that Governor Mitt Romney won the debate when all he did was
pretend to know how to debate without facts, numbers and figures.
A monkey could debate if it didn’t have to
come to the podium with facts, data and numbers. Please. Don’t make a mockery
out what little is left of our educational system. If an athlete cheats then
they’re kicked out of a race for good.
*) If I ever get raped and become pregnant then
I’ll remove the fetus myself with a coat hanger if I have to but like hell if
any man is going to take my rights to abortion away from me as a free American woman!
This isn’t Pakistan, boys! Period.
Now, back to jobs.
What about those jobs?
I’m breathing. I’m chillax. I’m cool. Please.
Whose leg are you pulling? Not mine.
October 10, 2012
“When I was a little girl in the 1950s, it would not have been
possible for me to say, I want to be an anchorwoman when I grow up.” - Jessica Savitch
“When I was a little girl, rocking my little dolls, I remember
thinking I would be the world's best mom, and so far I've done it. - Jenny McCarthy
“I'm not a braggart, but when I was a little girl
people used to come from all over Hollywood to hear me sing. - Etta James
“I don't think you ever think that you have made it but I did take
a look at myself one day and think back to when I was a little girl and it was
nice to know that I had at least made it this far.” - Sharon Stone
“I was a little girl fighting as a partisan against Nazi-Fascism.” - Oriana Fallaci
Happy Wednesday!
Aloha.
---
--- ---
Shall we dance? Okay.
---
--- ---
*) I feel pity for Mrs. Ann Romney.
Ann Romney seems to have no clue as to what
real women go through daily.
Ann Romney seems like some of the mean girls I went to the Arts High School
in Golden Valley with disguised as “Minnesota Nice bitches”. Whatever. Please. Money can’t buy class.
Ann Romney’s husband is indeed a liar without
a moral compass and a flapping fish.
It’s right here in ink for the humans to read
in the year 7012. Yes, indeed. Yes, Sir!
I have no fear of political candidates
because I’ve been lied to my entire life and I can see a liar a mile away. Posers
with money are the worst types of liars because they try to disguise their
hatred for life and the living. Posers are the self-loathers of the world thus
they want to murder with all of their might if they’re allowed to get away with
hatred and they must not be allowed any type of leadership.
*) Don’t get me started about the 2002 Salt
Lake City Olympics because I can debate and win.
Nope. No, personal attacks. That’s not a
debate. Stick to the issues. If a debater gets personal then that’s not a
debater that’s an abuser.
*) No, I’m not our lovely Mr. President
Barack Obama nor do I pretend to be, yet I was taught to be ruthless when in
debate form. Yes, Sir!
Everything’s on the line and The People get killed on the ground so
I’m willing to go to bat for them because I have nothing to lose and neither
does Mr. President; he’s already black
and he’s already hated by the Republicans, anyway, so what’s there to lose?
Nothing. Go! Mr. President! Go!
When one steps up to a debate, it’s no
different than stepping into a boxing ring and the gloves do come off. It’s a
debater’s job to call out the lies of their opponents or The People do and can
die due to the lies of liars.
A debate has to be conducted with style, a fly
sense of confidence and one must come to the podium with facts, figures and
more facts otherwise, the debate is lost by default. I want to see notes and
lots of notes. It takes about 5 hours of research for 15 minutes of debate. I
know. I’ve been there.
No, prancing around like a “knight in shining
armor” because that’s straight out of a fairy tale book and the readers are
willing to shut down that chapter. Are you men or are you asleep in some fairy
tale chapter?
*) Yes, on average; per ounce, hair conditioner
costs only a mere twenty-nine cents (.29) to make, thus if a small bottle of
hair conditioner carries a price tag of $14.00 then that’s about a 100% mark-up
not to mention that testing is done on little bunnies. Who’s snorting cocaine
in the women’s CEO’s bathroom? Please. Mean girls!!! That’s not a respectable
way to get the Americans to buy into such overpriced and mediocre products
which burn the scalp.
*) “Big Bird” on average costs the government
about .02% of their annual budget.
To kill “Big Bird” would not only kill our
American educational system but also it would be the wrong budget to cut when
Homeland Security gets 59 to 64 billion or
more annually to build mosques in Afghanistan and to feel up the vaginas
and penises of the good American People at airports (Oh, did I write that out
loud? I most certainly did and it’s here in black ink for you to read).
Now, if the Republican Party kills “Big Bird”
(a puppet for those of you in 7012) then The American People will kill the
Republican Party (figuratively speaking, of course).
Be careful, because Texas’s High School mathematics
teachers are informing me that their Seniors in High School can only read at a
third grade reading level. How vulgar, indeed.
*) Any person of color, especially
African-Americans who stand for the Romney / Ryan ticket is either a bigot, an
exhibitionist or a freak of nature with freedom of speech guarding their right
to kill others. Who bought whom? Can people of color be bought today after
slavery took place in America? I didn’t think that was possible but I guess
that it is. Wow, who’s buying the African-American celebrity vote? Who’s in bed
with the slave master?
*) No, don’t sell that crock.
Now, if winning a debate by not giving facts
and figures means a squeaky clean hair cut and lots of smiling with nothing
real to say then that can only mean one thing, our mass media, government and
politicians can only read at a third grade reading level. Ha!
*) Yes, our family members are fighting
breast cancer right now and all we can do is pray while our beloved ones and
their breasts get burned from the chemo treatments. Oh, you didn’t know that
chemo therapy burns holes into the breasts’ of women then think again.
*) To the NFL and its players; thank you for
bringing awareness to this monster of American breast cancer in our women.
Oh, dear gentlemen you looked so wonderful in
your pink accessories.
Our family sat around our Elders’ two living
rooms (we drove from one home to another) and watched with pride and joy as you
sported the pink.
We’ve lost our dear women, mothers,
daughters, sisters in our family to cancer and we fight a tough battle. Thank
you.
I held back tears as I watched our NFL men
wear pink for the lives of our American women. Thank you. Please don’t forget
our women who fight the battle for their lives. This is quite real and quite
difficult.
(Oh, a tear just rolled down my cheek at the
thought of Eric’s sister’s nine year battle against cancer.) Excuse me, I
pretend to be quite unemotional in person, but, when, alone, I feel
tremendously because losing our beloved ones has indeed left a hole in our
family. We miss our beloved ones each and every day.)
Please don’t forget our women. Please.
I’ll get down on my one knee and pray if I
must.
Please don’t forget the little girls and
women of the world.
*) Question and question everything.
*) To the Taliban; women will learn to read
and write. To kill and abuse and rape women is to be cowardly. Allah doesn’t
approve the killing and abuse of women and our little girls!!! How dare you!
How dare you indeed hurt our beautiful global daughters!!!
*) Yes, Affirmative Action must reign freely.
America is a country of racism and we’re not out of the woods yet. Go! Affirmative Action! Go!
*) Photo I.D. law is the greatest fraud and the
biggest lie since… I hope that our judges step up to the plate and take their
responsibilities quite seriously because to intimidate and to abuse the voters
is quite illegal in every state.
With respect and a feisty attitude for life
because when you’re dead then you’re dead;
Arrivederci.
Gabriela
October 9, 2012
“Hope is some extraordinary spiritual grace that God gives us to
control our fears, not to oust them.” - Vincent McNabb
“The rich are always going to say that, you know, just give us more
money and we'll go out and spend more and then it will all trickle down to the
rest of you. But that has not worked the last 10 years, and I hope the American
public is catching on.” - Warren Buffett
“He who has health, has hope; and he who has hope, has everything.” - Thomas Carlyle
“He who has faith has... an inward reservoir of courage, hope,
confidence, calmness, and assuring trust that all will come out well - even
though to the world it may appear to come out most badly.” - B.C. Forbes
“Come, gentlemen, I hope we shall drink down all unkindness.” - William Shakespeare
Happy Tuesday!
Aloha.
---
--- ---
Let’s dance!
Please stop stepping all over my toes.
I don’t like it.
Otherwise, go home and practice your dance
moves in your living rooms.
Thank you.
---
--- ---
Please, don’t make me laugh so hard because it hurts too much. I just picked up
another dosage of Oxycodone which I haven’t taken today because I have yet to
drive tonight thus I sit here in excruciating pain.
Anyway, I left the Republican Party this
summer 2012 and I, now, stand as an Independent voter. I left the Republican
Party because they were becoming too Nazi propaganda for my free will American
soul. America has a soul, you know? It’s simply that propaganda has eaten away
at it. Facts are a beautiful thing.
Mr. President Barack Obama; you have my vote as of this November 2012.
After much research it seems that this silly
character, Paul Ryan wants to kill the American women and Governor Mitt Romney
wants to kill the Mexicans. Nope. No, don’t take my word for it, go research
it!!!
It’s indeed a fact that Governor Mitt Romney
and Congressman Paul Ryan are violent and conniving in their policies.
It’s in these two men’s reptile rhetoric that
they have a murderous agenda. Yikes. Those two reptiles sure are creepy fellows,
those, Republican Party greasy-weasels will get our women killed. Don’t trust
them, because their ideal of lynching The American People is to pass insane
laws that will indeed kill The Humans.
If you have any type of American soul left in
you, then you won’t vote Republican in this election 2012 when the stakes are
high and our children deserve a much better and brighter future.
Let Mr. President Barack Obama finish what
he’s started even though he can’t seem to talk about the legalization of drugs,
which he must at one point or another because our Mexican friends die in this drug-war
Holocaust.
Mr. President Barack Obama reminds me of
former President John F. Kennedy; he does indeed care what happens to us, he
hasn’t let us get killed-off by the Middle East as of yet and that’s a great
testament to his will.
Governor Mitt Romney and Congressman Paul
Ryan.
They will not do.
They cannot do.
They’re not good enough.
Get them out of here.
The Republican Party has become a bunch of
murderers in their rhetoric and it proves them to be so. I won’t stand by as
our elderly, veterans and students get sent back to the Stone Age. (Our young
can barely speak anything other than “Valley High” idiotic linguistics which is
leaving the Americans in the dust; behind other Nations. Why haven’t our young
left the 1990’s behind? “Valley High” speech was something that was idiotic
even when I was in seventh grade in 1990.) Yikes. SOME Creepy uneducated
Americans.
I refuse to standby while two empty handed Republican
used-car sale’s men have nothing to contribute and every morsel of bread to
steal from the mouths of our American babes. Please vote the Republicans out of
Congress because the Republicans have ‘lost their marbles’ (their brains).
Mr. President Barack Obama is in the likes of
J.F.K. and he has my vote.
You can take that to the bank because that’s
the vote of a Mayan-AMERICAN woman who’s done two solid years of research on
Mr. Governor Mitt Romney who left Massachusetts economically desecrated.
I’m Massachusetts’ daughter as well as the
descendant of the Puritan settlers in search of religious freedom.
My vote counts for something because I have
nothing to sell to the good American People and if they know what’s good for
them then they won’t have this Romney/Ryan Fascist ticket killing our elderly
and their social security as well as Medicare, our youth and their educational
Pal grants as well as our veterans.
I shan’t beg because you’re looking at a Blue
Blood; if you know what’s good for America then know this; Americans can tell the
difference between two greasy used-car sale’s men and former President John F. Kennedy
embodied through Mr. President Barack Obama.
Now, Mr. Romney’s Father would’ve had my vote
but his mean-spirited-pastel-cake son of his can’t have his cake and eat it,
too, because he’s the cake and we; The People just licked him. Mm, go home, not
enough honey in that cake. No, I don’t like my cake with white table sugar. I
like to make my cakes with honey since I know what’s good for me while the bees
almost go extinct.
Furthermore, “Bain Capital” is indeed and in
fact a major conglomerate whose sole purpose is to take out other small businesses
in order to make capital. What? I believe that defeats the main purpose of the
American entrepreneurial-ship of our free enterprise and free will of the soul
to contribute towards small business not to kill it.
To kill small businesses is to kill the
American People and that’s exactly what Mitt Romney did for Bain Capital.
Now, “Bane” as in “Batman” the latest film “The
Dark Knight Rises” has been around in-the-comic books long before Mitt Romney’s
“Bain Capital”.
I loved the recent Batman film and if anyone
has any complaints, problems and in need to censor Batman then pick it up with
me because I have the power to rip any one a new one. Yes, indeed. I’m no bully
yet I’m no coward either.
In Conclusion, I hate that Mitt Romney desecrates the American flag on his poser lapel
pin with a black star.
I thought that it was anti-American to
desecrate the American flag.
I take the American flag quite seriously as a
first generation immigrant.
The American flag and the American National
Anthem bring a great deal of pride and joy to my soul and if anyone messes with
the sacredness of those two symbols of freedom, justice and the pursuit of
happiness, well, then they’re no such thing as leaders; they’re haters of our
freedoms because to desecrate the American flag is to divide and conquer not to
unite.
Wake up, America.
Gabriela
---
--- ---
*) Now, I hear many Elders say that they hate
that religion has sided with politics and preach politics from the pulpit.
Amen!
Careful, religion, you’re turning off the Elders
with your vile religious teachings.
Remember, the Elders have a lot of Grandchildren
and they may get to decide whether their Grandbabies have to listen to
political vile through Sunday church services and its hatred or not.
The world’s passing religion by.
I do feel bad for such religious bigots.
We believe in the freedoms and the rights of
others to marry whom they choose and love. No religious freaks are going to
stand in the way of our vote or intimidate us, otherwise. Vote; “No” for same
sex-marriage in this November 2012 amendment because it’s the right thing to do
not because some religious bigoted ‘asshole’ has a political agenda and wants
to use you for their gains.
I thought it was the responsibility of
religion to preach ‘love not war’.
*) Now, what’s with cheerleaders dressing
like whores on Television?
The Elders and many women here on the ground
hate seeing tits and vaginas hanging out all over the place, because if you
don’t know that our little girls and women are sexually dehumanized, sexually
assaulted and raped every single minute of the day then you’re a true freak of
nature and an ignoramus and that’s not the American way.
Our Elders speak about how they used to wear
sweaters when they were cheerleaders and shorts to cover up their privates.
Please, put some bloody clothes on because
our little girls and women get killed here on the ground because men get some
crazy ideals in their heads that women are like the cheerleading whores on
Television.
Yes, my greatest role models are cheerleaders
but they, too, wear sweaters and fully covered T-Shirts and that’s why they are
my role models still today.
*) Now, why the hell is hand soap and other
household items marked up so high?
Who’s sniffing that cocaine? Who’s huffing
glue in the women’s bathroom?
Now, it’s a fact that it costs close to nothing
to make these cheap household products such as soaps and shampoos, chips, chocolate
and curtains and other products so whomever is marking them up 100% must be
snorting a few lines of cocaine during their bathroom breaks and thinks that
they’ll make a killing so that these Executives and CEO’s can pay for their
cocaine habits. Shove off.
Please. Get your thumbs out of your butts and
stop stealing bread from the mouths of babes.
No, no matter how cool your products may seem
to you, I know for a fact that they cost cents on the dollar to make, package
and distribute hair conditioner so don’t give me that bullshit price tag of
$14.00 dollars a bottle because that’s a lie just as good as the one the oil
companies would love for you to fall for. Who regulates oil prices? The oil
companies do because the government is in bed with them.
*) Now, I took debate and I thought that
President Barack Obama won the debate last week because Governor Romney gave
absolutely no figures, no facts and no details. How! How in the hell is
Governor Mitt Romney going to conduct his economic plan? I’m sitting by with a
calculator waiting for his ‘brilliant economic plan’ which seems to have no
numbers to go along with it. Please. Where are Governor Romney’s taxes from the
past 12 years? I refuse to get bamboozled!
No, I haven’t seen the Presidential debate
nor am I going to.
We heard the debate on the radio as we drove
North bound and I thought that Mr. President Barack Obama was a rock star
whether he was tired or not (the President’s sexual life is his own and I don’t
want to hear about it.)
Did anybody study debate?
What the hell is going on with the
educational system in America that, barely, ‘no one’ can tell the truth from a
lie or points won or lost in any debate? Please. If a debating participant
doesn’t have numbers, facts and figures then they lose the debate by default.
Fact.
*) No, you don’t want to be called a “genius”
by anyone because it means that you have the potential to go mad. One may call
another “brilliant”, but not a genius. A “genius” is such an insult that one
ought to feel indignant about such a slur. Do have people label themselves
rather than labeling them ‘crazy’. It’s done in poor taste when one labels
another especially minors. Be careful.
*) I love media watch dogs. What rock
stars!!!
*) Why do downtown business suits smell like
crotch sweat?
If one exercises in the middle of the day
then its one’s responsibility to shower, because ‘no one’ likes to conduct
business any day of the week with well dressed three-piece suit men who smell
like their gym socks and their sweaty crotches.
Remember, a suit is just a suit.
*) Yes, I can write with crassness, because
once one knows all of the literary rules well, then one knows how to break all
of the rules. Ha! Smiles.
*) A woman says to me; “I was going to tell
you off but you’re so much nicer in person than in your blog and now all I can
do is be nice to you.” Ha! What a great compliment.
October 12, 2012
“When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will
know peace.” - Jimi Hendrix
“Square Dance”
By
Mr. Eminem
People!! It feels so good to be back.
Ladies and gentleman, introducing the new and improved you know who
Verse
1
Never been the type to bend or budge
The wrong button to push,
No friend of Bush
I'm the centerpiece, you're the Maltese.
I am a pitbull off his leash,
All this peace talk can cease.
All these people I had to leave in limbo,
I'm back now,
I've come to release this info
I'll be brief and let me just keep shit simple.
Can-a-bitch don't want no beef with Slim?
Noooo!
Not even on my radar,
So won't you please jump off my dick
Lay off and stay off,
And follow me as I put these crayons to chaos from séance to séance,
Aw-a-aw-ch-a-aw
Chorus
X2
You all c'mon now,
Let's all get on down,
Let's do-si-do now,
We're gonna have a good ol' time.
Don't be scared, 'cause there ain't nothing to worry about,
Let your hair down,
And square dance with me!
Verse
2
Let your hair down to the track,
Yeah kick on back.
Boo!
The boogies monster of rap,
Yeah the man's back
With a plan to ambush this Bush administration,
Mush the Senate's face in and push this generation,
Of kids to stand and fight for the right to say something you might not like,
This white hot light,
That I'm under,
No wonder,
I look so sunburnt,
Oh no,
I won't leave no stone unturned,
Oh no I won't leave,
Won't go nowhere,
Do-si-do,
Oh, yo, ho, hello there
Oh yeah don't think I won't go there,
Go to the Beirut and do a show there
Yeah you laugh till your motherfuckin' ass gets drafted,
While you're at band camp thinkin' the crap can't happen,
Till you fuck around,
Get an anthrax napkin,
Inside a package wrapped in saran Wrap wrapping,
Open the plastic and then you stand back gasping,
Fuckin' assassins hijackin' Amtracks crashing,
All this terror America demands action,
Next thing you know you've got Uncle Sam's ass askin'
To join the army or what you'll do for their Navy.
You just a baby,
Gettin' recruited at eighteen,
You're on a plane now,
Eating their food and their baked beans.
I'm 28,
They gonna take you 'fore they take me
Crazy insane or insane crazy?
When I say Hussein you say Shady,
My views ain't changed still Inhumane,
Wait,
Arraigned two days late,
The date's today,
Hang me!
Chorus
X2
Verse 3
Nothin' moves me more than a groove the soothes me,
Nothin' soothes me more than a groove
that boosts me,
Nothin' boosts me more,
Or suits me beautifully,
There's nothin' you can do to me,
Stab me,
Shoot me,
Psychotic,
Hypnotic, product I got the antibiotic.
Ain't nobody hotter and so on and yada yada
God I talk a lot of hem-de-lay-la-la-la,
oochie walla um da dah da dah da but you gotta gotta,
Keep movin',
There's more music to make,
Keep makin' new shit,
Produce hits to break
the monotony,
What's gotten into me?
Drug's, rock and Hennessey,
Thug like I'm 'Pac on my enemies,
On your knees,
Got you under siege,
Somebody you would give a lung to be hungry,
Like a fuckin' younger me,
Fuck the fee,
I can get you jumped for free,
Yah buddy,
Laugh it's funny,
I have the money to have you killed by somebody who has nothing,
I'm past bluffing,
Pass the K-Y,
Let's get ready for some intense,
serious ass fucking!
Chorus
X2
Outro
Dr. Dre., wants to square with me,
Nasty Nas, wants to square dance with me,
X to the Z, wants to square dance with me,
Busta Rhymes, wants to square dance with me,
Cana-bitch won't square dance with me,
Fan-a-bitch, won't square dance with me,
Canada-bis, don't want no parts of me,
Dirty Dozen wants to square dance with you-----YEE-HAW!!!
Happy Friday!
Aloha.
Peace.
Gabriela
October 11, 2012
“Imagine all the people living life in peace. You may say I'm a
dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us, and the world
will be as one.” - John Lennon
“Soldier”
By
Mr. Eminem
(Thank you for creating real arte.)
I'm a soldier, I’m a soldier, I’m a soldier, I’m a soldier...
Yo', never was a thug, just infatuated with guns,
never was a gangsta, 'til I graduated to one,
and got the rep of a villain, for weapon concealin',
took the image of a thug, kept shit appealin',
willin' to stick out my neck, for respect if it meant life or death,
never live to regret what I said,
when you're me, people just want to see,
if it's true, if it's you, what you say in your rap's, what you do,
so they feel, as part of your obligation to fulfill,
when they see you on the streets, face to face, are you for real,
in confrontation ain't no conversation, if you feel you're in violation,
any hesitation'll get you killed, if you feel it, kill it,
if you conceal it, reveal it, being reasonable will leave you full of bullets,
pull it, squeeze it, till it's empty, tempt me, push me, pussies,
I need a good reason to give this trigger a good squeeze...
Chorus
I'm a soldier, these shoulder's hold up so much, they won't budge,
I’ll never fall or fold up,
I’m a soldier,
even if my collar bone's crush or crumble,
I will never slip or stumble,
I’m a soldier,
these shoulder's hold up so much, they won't budge,
I’ll never fall or fold up,
I’m a soldier,
even if my collar bone's crush or crumble,
I will never stumble...
I love pissin' you off, it gets me off,
like my lawyer's, when the fuckin' judge let's me off,
all you motherfuckers gotta do is set me off,
I’ll violate and all the motherfuckin' bet's be off,
I’m a lit fuse, anything I do bitch, it's news,
pistol whippin' motherfuckin' bouncers, six-two,
who needs bullets, soon as I pull it, you sweat bullets,
an excellent method to get rid of the next bully,
it's actually better cause instead you murderin',
you can hurt em' and come back again and kick dirt at 'em,
it's like pourin' salt in the wounds, assault and get sued,
you can smell the lawsuits soon as I waltz in the room,
everybody halts and stops, calls the cops,
all you see is bitches comin' out their halter tops,
runnin' and duckin' out the Hard Rocks parking lot,
you'll all get shot whether it’s your fault or not, cause...
Chorus
I spit it slow so these kids know that I’m talkin' to 'em,
give it back to these damn critics and sock it to em,
I’m like a thug, with a little bit of Pac influence,
I spew it, and look how I got you bitches rockin' to it,
you motherfuckers could never do it like I could do it,
don't even try it, you'll look stupid, do not pursue it,
don't ever in your life, try to knock the truest,
I spit the illest shit, ever been dropped to two inch,
so ticky-tock listen as the sound ticks on the clock,
listen to the sound of Kim as she licks on a cock,
listen to the sound of me spillin' my heart through this pen,
motherfuckers know that I’ll never be Marshall again,
full of controversy until I retire my jersey,
'til the fire inside dies and expires at thirty, and
Lord have mercy on any more of these rappers that verse me,
and put a curse on authorities in the face of adversity, I’m a...
Chorus
Yo' left, yo' left, yo' left,
right, left,
yo' left, yo' left, yo' left,
right, left,
yo' left, yo' left, yo' left,
right, left,
yo' left, yo' left, yo' left,
right, left...
Happy Thursday!
Aloha.
Peace.
Gabriela
October 10, 2012
“Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent
revolution inevitable.” - John F. Kennedy
“Say Goodbye Hollywood”
By
Mr. Eminem
Chorus
Sayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood
Sayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood
Sayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood
Sayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood
{Hollywood}, sayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood
{Why do I feel this way}, sayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood
Sayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood
Sayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood
Verse
1
I thought I had it all figured out, I did
I thought I was tough enough to stick it out with Kim
But I wasn't tough enough to juggle two things at once
I found myself layin' on my knees in cuffs
Which should've been a reason enough, for me to get my stuff and just leave
How come I couldn't see this shit myself, it's just me
Nobody couldn't see the shit I felt
Knowin' damn well she wasn't gonna be there when I fell, to catch me
The minute shit was heated she just bailed
I’m standin' here swingin' on like thirty people by myself
I couldn't even see the millimeter when it fell
Turned around saw Gary stashin' the heater in his belt
Saw the bouncers rush him and beat him to the ground
I just sold two million records, I don't need to go to jail
I'm not about to lose my freedom over no female
I need to slow down
Try to get my feet on solid ground, so for now I’m...
CHORUS
Verse 2
Bury my face in comic books, cause I don't want to look
At nothin', this world's too much
I've swallowed all I could
If I could swallow a bottle of Tylenol I would, and end it for good
Just say goodbye to Hollywood
I probably should, these problems are piling all at once
Cause everything that bothers me, I got it bottled up
I think I’m bottomin' out
But I’m not about to give up, I gotta get up
Thank God, I got a little girl
And I'm a responsible father
So not a lot of good, I’d be to my daughter layin' in the bottom of the mud
Must be in my blood cause I don't know how I do it
All I know is I don't want to follow in the footsteps of my dad
Cause I hate him so bad
The worst fear that I had was growin' up to be like his fuckin' ass, man
If you could understand why I am the way that I am
What do I say to my fans, when I tell 'em I’m...
CHORUS
Verse 3
I don't wanna quit, but shit, I feel like this is it
For me to have this much appeal like this is sick
This is not a game, this fame, in real life this is sick
Publicity stunt my ass, conceal my fuckin' dick
Fuck the guns, I’m done, I’ll never look at gats
If I scrap, I’ll scrap like I ain't never whooped some ass
I love my fans
But no one ever puts a grasp on the fact I’ve sacrificed everything I have
I never dreamt I’d get to the level that I’m at, this is whack
This is more than I ever could of asked
everywhere I go, a hat, a sweater hood, or mask
What about math, how come I wasn't ever good at that
It's like the boy in the bubble, who never could adapt, I’m trapped
If I could go back, I never woulda rapped
I sold my soul to the devil, I’ll never get it back
I just wanna leave this game with level head intact
Imagine goin' from bein' a no one to seein',
everything blow up and all you did was just grow
up emceeing
It's fuckin' crazy
Cause all I wanted was to give Hailie the life I never had
But instead I forced us to live alienated, so I’m sayin'...
CHORUS
Outro
Goodbye, goodbye Hollywood, {Goodbye},
please don't cry for me, when I’m gone for good,
{this shit is not for me},
so goodbye, goodbye Hollywood,
{I’m not a fuckin' star},
please don't cry for me, when I'm gone for good,
{I’m goin' back home}...
Happy Wednesday!
Aloha.
Peace.
Gabriela
October 9, 2012
“Peace
begins with a smile.” - Mother Teresa
Happy Tuesday!
Aloha.
Peace.
Gabriela
October 8, 2012
“A peace is of the nature of a conquest; for then both parties
nobly are subdued, and neither party loser.” - William Shakespeare
Happy Monday!
Aloha.
Peace.
Gabriela
October 5, 2012
“If you want to make peace with your enemy, you have to work with
your enemy. Then he becomes your partner.” - Nelson Mandela
Happy Friday!
Aloha.
Peace.
Gabriela
October 4, 2012
“I believe in the religion of Islam. I believe in Allah and peace.” - Mohammed Ali
Happy Thursday!
Aloha.
Peace.
Gabriela
October 3, 2012
“I think that people want peace so much that one of these days
government had better get out of their way and let them have it.” - Dwight D. Eisenhower
“White America”
By
Mr. Eminem
America!
We love you!
How many people are proud to be citizens of
this beautiful country of ours?
The stripes and the stars for the rights that
men have died for to protect
The women and men who have broke their necks for the freedom of speech the
United States government has sworn to uphold. (Yo I want everybody to listen to
the words of this song) or so we're told...
Verse 1
I never would've dreamed in a million years I'd see, so many motherfuckin'
people who feel like me
who share the same views and the same exact beliefs, it's like a fuckin' army
marchin' in back of me
So many lives I touch, so much anger aimed in no particular direction, just
sprays and sprays and straight through your radio waves it plays and plays,
till it stays stuck in your head for days and days
who woulda thought, standing in this mirror bleachin' my hair, with some
peroxide, reachin for a t-shirt to wear
that I would catapult to the forefront of rap like this? How could I predict my
words would have an impact like this
I must've struck a chord, with somebody up in the office, cuz Congress keeps
telling me I ain't causin' nuthin' but problems
and now they're sayin' I'm in trouble with the government, I'm lovin' it, I
shoveled shit all my life/and now I'm dumping it on...
White America!
I could be one of your kids
White America!
Little Eric looks just like this
White America!
Erica loves my shit
I go to TRL, look how many hugs I get
Verse 2
Look at these eyes, baby blue, baby just like yourself, if they were brown
Shady lose, Shady sits on the shelf
but Shady's cute, Shady knew Shady's dimples would help, make ladies swoon
baby, ooh baby! Look at my sales
Lets do the math, If I was black I would've sold half, I ain't have to graduate
from Lincoln High School to know that
but I could rap, so fuck school, I'm too cool to go back, gimme the mic, show
me where the fuckin' studio's at
When I was underground, no one gave a fuck I was white, no labels wanted to
sign me almost gave up, I was like
Fuck it, until I met Dre, the only one to look past, gave me a chance, and I
lit a fire up under his ass
helped him get back to the top, every fan black that I got was probably his in
exchange for every white fan that he's got
Like damn, we just swapped. Sittin' back lookin' at shit, wow, I'm like my skin
is it starting to work to my benefit now?
Verse 3
See the problem is I speak to suburban kids who otherwise would of never knew
these words exist
whose moms probably woulda never gave two squirts of piss, till I created so
much motherfuckin' turbulence
straight out the tube, right into your living room I came, and kids flipped
when they knew I was produced by Dre
That's all it took, and they were instantly hooked right in, and they connected
with me too because I looked like them
that's why they put my lyrics up under this microscope, searchin' with a fine
tooth comb, its like this rope
waitin' to choke, tightening around my throat, watching me while I write this,
like I don't like this (Nope)
All I hear is: lyrics, lyrics, constant controversy, sponsors working round the
clock, to try to stop my concerts early
surely hip hop was never a problem in Harlem only in Boston, after it bothered
the fathers of daughters starting to blossom
so now I'm catchin' the flack from these activists when they raggin', actin'
like I'm the first rapper to smack a bitch, or say faggot
shit, just look at me like I'm your closest pal, the posterchild, the mother
fuckin' spokesman now for...
Verse 4
So to the parents of America
I am the derringer aimed at little Erica, to attack her character
The ringleader of this circus of worthless pawns
Sent to lead the march right up to the steps of Congress
And piss on the lawns of the White House and replace it with a Parental
Advisory sticker
To spit liquor in the faces of in this democracy of hypocrisy
Fuck you Ms. Cheney! Fuck you Tipper Gore! Fuck you with the freest of speech
this divided states of embarrassment will allow me to have, Fuck you!
I'm just kiddin' America, you know I love
you...
Happy Wednesday!
Aloha.
---
--- ---
Shall we dance?
---
--- ---
Aloha. Let’s all take a deep breath.
---
--- ---
I have great confidence in the United States
of America due to these amazing construction workers; those, which, I take
notice of each and every single day. These amazing humans place their lives on
the line for the betterment of all. Thank you.
Today I saw a group of five construction
working men with their heads down looking into a man hole in the ground. The
men were careful of each other, respectful of each other and looked out for one
another especially when they were right alongside the road with downtown
traffic whizzing by on Washington Avenue.
These men were a complete poem in motion.
I could’ve watched them work in complete unison
and with compassion for one another for about an hour. These men were a robust
and masculine ballet of beauty. I was not only honored but in great reverence
for their existences.
I wished for one moment that these
construction workers were hospital staff and nurses. The way these beautiful
men took great care of each other made me realize that they’d take great care
of anybody else. These manly men were as sensible and as gentle as only a true
man can be. I fell in complete love for their every breath of life because they
were kind to one another.
I’ve been informed that many women from ‘working
poor’ homes have taken up nursing or some form of work in the medical
profession because they thought it was going to be lucrative for them; but many
have come to find out that the work they do is, too, difficult, not worth their
time and they hate their situations in life.
Thus,
the United States of America has ended up with a large population of bitter, discriminatory
and insensitive women whose voices carry a razor sharp edge of hatred in them because
they’re so unhappy and who can’t seem to get ahead in their lot in life. Pity.
I’m in love with the United States of America
because I believe in this country and I believe that we can be better than we are
at status quo. This great Nation under God must change and the winds of change
are indeed upon us.
Competition; why is there such a wayward ideal
about competition out there? I thought that competition meant looking out for
our opponents, caring about what happens to others and realizing that winning
has nothing to do with how one plays the game.
Men, good luck on the Presidential Debates.
May the best debater win the Presidential Debate.
“It ain’t over until the fat lady sings.” Ha!
I love the opera.
Good game. Good game. Good game.
Much love and respect;
Gabriela
*) Are you crazy?
We have excellent nurses in our family that I
trust, love and respect them dearly, especially those from Missouri.
*) Are you crazy?
I respect the Moose Lake, Minnesota Mercy
Hospital nurses for taking such great care of my eighty-six year old
'Mamacita'; my ‘little mommy’ in-law whom I adore, respect and admire.
*) Are you crazy?
If you’re mad, angry and need to let out
steam then pick up a sport. Whatever, with your stupid violence. I skateboard
because I believe in peace.
*) Are you crazy?
I can and do speak fluent English.
I have a perfect American dialect and
enunciation.
When I’m in pain it takes too much effort to
speak perfectly.
If America requires for me to speak in
perfect diction then I can, but I have far more than one language running
through my brain and I’m tired of achieving perfect accent for your benefits.
We, too, can play at that game… of perfect dialect
even if it requires much effort.
---
--- ---
I’d love a shot of morphine to the brain
right about now. (I know, I know. Morphine isn’t shot in the brain. I’m writing
metaphorically to extend powerful imagery to the reader.)
---
--- ---
I saw the most beautiful moving photograph today.
No, I didn’t take out my phone camera and
take a picture.
All I could do was to look on as the men made
their way from a shadowy underpass into the sunlight of confidence and glory.
All five men walked in a perfect line with
their heads held level, shoulders back and in great respect of each other. It
was obvious that they greatly cared about each other.
Now, that’s something that I can believe in.
They, too, were a beautiful masculine poem in
a ballet of stories and emotions.
It only took thirty seconds for them to
disappear around a corner and out of frame, however when I close my eyes (now) I
can still see them in their silhouetted forms. Thank you.
I can believe in beauty so long as people
continue to make incredible creations out of their lives.
October 2, 2012
“What
is it you most dislike? Stupidity, especially in its nastiest forms of
racism and superstition.” - Christopher
Hitchens
“Yeah, I love being famous.
It's almost like being white, y'know?” -
Chris Rock
“In
this country American means white. Everybody else has to hyphenate.” - Toni Morrison
“Ignorance
and prejudice are the handmaidens of propaganda. Our mission, therefore, is to
confront ignorance with knowledge, bigotry with tolerance, and isolation with
the outstretched hand of generosity. Racism can, will, and must be defeated.” - Kofi Annan
Happy Tuesday!
Aloha.
---
--- ---
Shall we dance?
---
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Hello. Tranquillo everybody! Chill out!
Relax. Take a deep breath. Life is indeed full of suffering and difficulties
yet gorgeous and beautiful. I believe in life. I believe in you. I believe in
America. I believe in the Minnesotans. I believe in the great aspects of the
world. I believe.
Now, I have a deep and greatest apology to
make to the Americans and the Minnesotans. I shan’t write nor say that all
Americans and Minnesotans are alike because they’re not. I won’t make that
mistake again. Please accept my apologies. I’m human. I make mistakes. I care.
I love. I respect. I honor.
---
--- ---
Alright.
I’ve had enough of the mediocrity of uneducated,
unsophisticated, homely nurses and medical front desk personnel in Minnesota.
For the most part these women show who they truly
are; which more often than not they are uneducated, bias, bigoted and ignorant
communicators not to mention racist but that comes with the territory.
My Father, a retired M.D. psychologist has
warned me for over a decade about the horrible attitudes, dispositions and
interactions one must expect as a person of color from medical front desk
personnel and nurses.
My Father has said; that most hate their
jobs, their patients, have far too much debt, wish they could be doctors but
don’t have enough education, money and too much bad attitude along with bad
service.
Oh, how right my Father is. He warned me
about how rude these women can be to people (if they think they can get away
with it), especially people of color, and I’ve been putting it to the test
because the truth will set us all free.
These women are freaks. Frankly, I’d clean
house at any hospital and clinic because bad nurses and horrible medical front
desk personnel seem to bring down an entire ship and drown everybody else.
Most of these mediocre front desk personnel,
staff and nurses can barely speak proper English (Hick English that barely gets
them by) much less any other languages; If one does speak other languages then
these ignorant women tend to treat others as though, one, is a dog, because
they think that the Spanish language is something to be looked down upon like
dirt. Something less than; when in reality these women couldn’t get themselves
out of paper bags much less conduct civil discourse in any other country. Eat
that for Finn dinner! Ha! Ha! Ha!
I had a nurse reprimand me four times over
the phone today.
How dare she?
Who the hell does she think she is, getting
off, while reprimanding a thirty five year old woman over the phone?
She must be crazy stressed out, literally!
I can’t believe that she’d speak to another adult
woman as she did to me (only because she
thought she could get away with it). She wanted to assert her racism,
classism and authority over me, which she had none.
I hate her ignorant disposition. I hate that
she’s so uneducated and vulgar. A Hick;
and my ‘hick’ friends don’t even speak to me in the manner in which she did
today.
Since; ‘I’m-a-dirty-good-for-nothing’ Indian
woman; I continually keep being treated as such by the medical bottom rung
personnel staff and their filthy nurses because they think that I’m a ‘nobody’
and they obviously think that they can get away with treating me niggardly.
Well, I’m here to tell you that the plume is mightier
than the sword.
I just got you licked up and down the street;
because; this subject matter is what patients
are afraid to talk about with their doctors about the subtle and not so subtle
prejudices, discrimination and overt racism in the medical profession.
Get it the hell out of here.
It’s not good enough.
It won’t do.
It can’t do.
Shove off.
Ignoramuses.
What a dirty medical business.
What a dirty culture of abusive medical
people and their staff.
What haters of those who are in pain,
suffering and in need of medical help.
If they think one is poor then the more abuse
they think they can get away with.
It seems, to be, middle-aged and late-twenty-early-thirty-something
women, who are the haters and abusers of The People. Well, I’m here to tell you that the next generation will be bidding for
your positions and hopefully they’ll be better educated than cold hearted
bitches.
I get the last laugh.
I’m the professional writer making
observations about everything, that’s why writers are the mighty heroes of the
Earth in a quiet and humble way taking punches left and right from people who
think they can get away with their abusive measures. Ha! I bite my thumb at
thee.
I take condescending blow-after-blow from all
types of ignorant women less qualified to wipe their butts than I am at running
their front desks, hospitals and hiring staff. Please. I could become a doctor
and lick you all, but I don’t want to be a doctor to change the system, I want
to continue on this path of professional art, deep meaning and critical
understanding.
Who the hell do you think you are; who can’t
read or write properly in multiple languages? What a sad lot. What a bunch of
ninnies. What a bunch of bullies. What a bunch of ignorant good for nothings,
(tongue in cheek).
Ciao.
Step back. I’m on fire because for some
reason it’s become common practice to treat people badly when one thinks they can
get away with such mierda. I hate you for being high school retarded bullies. How
uneducated of you.
I get to break social rules, because I get
treated like a nigger on a daily basis.
Gabriela
P.S. Nothing.
I’m tired of prejudice and ignorance. What.
Do you think that I don’t have to deal with
overt racism and prejudice every single day of my life? Think again.
October 1, 2012
“When
Benedict dies, he will have the pleasure of standing before whatever furious
God he believes in, to answer for how it was that he knew for undeniable fact
that one -- if not dozens -- of his priests repeatedly molested, abused and/or
raped young children for decades, and he did nothing to stop it. How much does
God believe the pope's argument that Vatican PR trumps pedophilia? Joe
Ratzinger, 82, will soon find out.” -
Mark Morford
“Let
us be the ones who say we do not accept that a child dies every three seconds
simply because he does not have the drugs you and I have. Let us be the ones to
say we are not satisfied that your place of birth determines your right for
life. Let us be outraged, let us be loud, let us be bold.” - Brad Pitt
“To
terrify children with the image of hell, to consider women an inferior
creation—is that good for the world?” -
Christopher Hitchens
“Many
abused children cling to the hope that growing up will bring escape and
freedom.
But the personality formed in the environment of coercive control is not well
adapted to adult life. The survivor is left with fundamental problems in basic
trust, autonomy, and initiative. She approaches the task of early
adulthood――establishing independence and
intimacy――burdened by major impairments in self-care, in cognition
and in memory, in identity, and in the capacity to form stable relationships.
She is still a prisoner of her childhood; attempting to create a new life, she
reencounters the trauma.” - Judith Lewis
Herman
Happy Monday!
Aloha.
---
--- ---
Shall we dance? Absolutely, yes.
---
--- ---
Are you crazy?
Of course everyone’s
‘crazy’ to one degree or another, however most are crazy to a lesser degree than others who commit horrible crimes
against our children and women right here upon the streets of our Twin Cities,
our country and the world.
The difference between clinically diagnosed ‘crazy’
humans, murderers and pedophiles is that while the rest of the population
controls themselves from committing outrageous heinous crimes; and the rest of
us keep ourselves in check, those
perpetrators of abuse don’t keep themselves in check because their logic and
reasoning has gone out the window thus neighbors rape little children (fact), the
Boy Scouts of America have sexual abuse allegations in misconduct and priests
continue to rape little kids. Gross. I’m grossed out to say the least.
Please, don’t wonder why I’m so passionate to
create justice in this dirty world.
Around these parts we keep our wits and
reasoning logic about us even when we’re Latino politico passionate, mixed-in
with a boiling Indian blood for justice and stubborn Finn tendencies in humor. Thank
you very much.
---
--- ---
Yes, it’s a fact that in the United States of
America electric shock therapy and lobotomies are still ‘legitimately’ conducted
practices in a wayward field. Gross. How archaic? Indeed.
How crazy is our contemporary American power
structure at large? Quite.
I thought that electric shock therapy and
lobotomies were obsolete psychological torture practices that were outlawed in
the 1960’s but these practices are still a form of psychological torture in
America today.
What’s happening?
Do question everything; as I was taught to do
so through my expensive private education. Thank you so much!
We must create the change we want to see in the world…
---
--- ---
Yes, women and men, alike, can still be committed
into insane asylums today and be locked up simply because they hate the mere fact that women still get
paid .77 cents to every dollar a man makes for doing the same exact work but the truth is setting us all free.
We must become liberated and free from the
bonds of psychological torture, inhumane practices and political power
structures of hatred against The People.
Forget getting sued in America by your
neighbors, co-workers and others.
Imagine ending up in an insane asylum with a
lobotomy or getting electric shock treatment simply because you’re uniquely you
and an imperfect human.
Now, that’s vindictiveness at its finest when
people hate so much that they’re willing to kill another out of sheer
insecurity, immaturity and hatred.
The People aren’t laughing.
I’m a huge advocate against any torture of
any type, because I’m a smart human and you ought to be also going into the 21st
Century. Come on! Freedom and liberation are just around this corner of hope.
Be careful.
I’ve been told by FBI agents that the most
vindictive people can be one’s neighbors, out of sheer spite, jealousy and
hatred for another for refusing to be sheep and conforming. (I put it to the
test. Ha!)
People aren’t what they appear to be and most aren’t ‘right in the head’, enough,
to mind their own business or at least to start some type of Fascist hatred campaign
against their neighbors because their neighbors will indeed...
I love that I worked alongside the FBI.
I just do.
I got educated in ways that I can’t explain
it to you.
Remember, that the first one to cast a stone
lives in glass houses. Pity.
---
--- ---
Yes, I most certainly raised my voice within
“shouting distance” in our backyard and on our damn private property at one O’clock
in the morning on Thursday to challenge my entire neighborhood.
Guess, what?
My neighborhood passed the test with flying
colors. You guys and gals are alright!
I was separating the tattletales, snoops,
gossips and righteous self-imposing humans. ‘Smoke them out.’
I wanted to know what our neighbors would do
because one can tell many things about pedophiles a mile away by how one
conducts one’s self in uncomfortable situations amongst new neighbors.
I’m indeed a ‘professional videographer’ when
it comes to deciphering and recording data about child abuse and child rape
‘behind closed doors’. I’ve been trained by the best professionals in the
country. I can see the signs a mile away when children are abused and sexually
raped by their neighbors, relatives and those in authority. I’ve got a trained
eye. I can’t help it. Thank you for teaching me to decipher and to see the
signs.
I’m grateful to be the one to inform you that
my neighborhood is sane enough to mind their business late at night without
calling the cops. Hip! Hip! Hooray to our neighbors because they passed this
test to see if they are sane and humane enough to live freely and peacefully.
They are indeed! (It was difficult. I almost burst out laughing but I had to
control my laughter the entire 30 minutes I shouted and raised my voice.)
My neighbors get an A- (I heard one male
complainer and that’s not bad) in sanity for controlling their emotions on that
night.
How lovely of them, indeed.
I’ll tell you why I was shouting and raised my voice on Thursday night,
because I’ve found out certain facts about child rape and abuse, here, and be
thankful that I didn’t wail that night because the wailing of a Latina woman
will leave you frozen to the marrow of your bones.
I raised my voice because I’ve had it with almost getting killed while driving on
the streets of Minneapolis on a daily basis on the average of five times a day.
Enough!
I was speaking loudly because this dangerous
man, Missouri Representative Todd Akin takes cheap shots at the women of
Missouri with his rhetoric about “Legitimate Rape” while our lovely American
children get raped and sexually abused by neighbors, family members, football
coaches of large Universities, by the Roman Catholic Church priests and the Boy
Scouts of America (allegedly). Enough.
I’m an American damn it!
I can yell, shout and scream all I want on my
private property about the injustices of the world and America, but I don’t
(very rarely, once in eight years).
If I’m going to yell, shout and scream then
it’s going take place inside the walls of my home and then it really is none of
anybody else’s goddamn business what I say and how loudly I say it.
I keep myself in check and while I’m standing
upon my private property I can do as I please. I can even go buck naked but I
don’t out of respect for my neighbors.
I shan’t raise my voice again within ‘shouting
distance’ because that’s not my style but I most certainly am indignant about
the fact that hardly any so called role models of the World can be trusted with
our children today.
Please. Who the hell does anybody think they
are when our children get sexually molested, sexually assaulted, sexually
abused and sexually raped by the neighbors, priests, relatives and football
coaches? What a joke.
Don’t let your children out of your sight.
Sincerely,
Gabriela
P.S. Peace
be with you. And also with you. Peace.
No, I don’t gamble but I most certainly do
have some trump cards up my sleeve.
*) Are you crazy?
Don’t show me the money.
Show The
People the money.
I already know what eighty million dollars
looks like.
*) Are you crazy?
I’m not here to tell parents how to parent.
I have some concrete ideas, however I’m not a
parenting expert, parenting professional nor do I care to become one.
*) Correction; from 50,000 to forty million
Americans without healthcare. Thank you.
*) Yes, I live with excruciating daily physical
pain because my tendons are tearing away from the bone. I almost want to cut my
arm off, some days, but I’m too intelligent for that.
Sometimes when the pain is too unbearable,
all I can do, when I’m alone, is to sit
down in the backyard and cry silently because I can barely close my hand into a
fist.
I can make a fist today and I’m ever so
grateful!
Yes, I’m in pain every single day.
If you can’t beat them then join them. (I
don’t mean it literally.)
I’m thinking of medicating myself on a lot of
prescription painkiller medication drugs because I don’t know what else to do.
Oxycodone, here I come!!!
Now, let’s see how this game is played under
the influence of legal ‘crazy’ drugs.
I quit the Oxycodone. I couldn’t do it. I
win!!!