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 South 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?
---
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“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.
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*) 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.
---
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*) 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.
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--- ---
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?
---
--- ---
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!!!