Chaucer and Shaft

Two of my favourites, together at last:

Wha be tha blake prevy lawe
That bene wantoun too alle tha feres?
SHAFT!
Ya damne righte!

Wha be tha carl tha riske is hals wolt
Fro is allye leve?
SHAFT!
Konne ye?

Wha be tha carl wha ne wolden flee
Whan peril bene all aboughte?
SHAFT!
Verray!

Alle clepe tha carl ane badde mooder-F
SOFTE!
Speken of Shaft bene I.
THAN KONNE ALLES WE!

He be a man konne unnethes
Namo save is mayde konnes im.
JOHN SHAFT!

Found on: http://www.livejournal.com/users/geoff_chaucer/7400.html

V A C A T I O N

Yay, it's the time of year I dream of. When I can go where I want when I want for a week and sleep in as late and often as I wish.

Unfortunately, it's not D's dream. He's just plain pissy about something and I don't want to be around him. He finished his job at the same time my vacation started so I have to contend with him at home bitching about the fact I haven't cleaned something, or complaining that something or other is "filthy." "Filthy" is his only word to describe things that don't smell like chlorine bleach. It's also his word that says whatever is "filthy" is that way because I didn't clean it recently enough.

All the man did on the weekend was complain that he didn't want to go out. He was more than unpleasant with me so I offered to spend the rest of my week without involving him. He seemed fine with it until this morning when he started to assign domestic duties and ask where we were going that day.

I think he's just a bitter man and I'm tired of feeling sorry for him. He wants to stay home but he also doesn't want me to go out on my own. Oh no, I can't go out alone. I might have fun and enjoy my day without him so he insists on tagging along and then wrecking the day with endless bitching.

A typical conversation with D involves me listening to him and agreeing with everything he says. He often follows his own train of thought and finishes a converstation by inventing laws that would prevent people from doing things he doesn't agree with. If I stop listening he gets sarcastic about me not contributing to the conversation.

If I say anything, besides uh-huh, he already knows it. Even if it's headline news, he knows already. Often, he has to tell me how long he's known for. It goes like this:

(Driving by a demolition site on Plains Road)

Top Dog: Aww, look they tore down that old brick building that had the clock tower in front.

D: Christ, they did that two weeks ago. Where have you been?

Top Dog: Sorry, I don't come here every day. That's too bad they couldn't find another use for it.

D: They should not be allowed to do that. The city should pass a law to stop developers from ruining all these nice old buildings.

Top Dog: (nauseated by yet another draconian proclamation from D) MmmHmm

D: They're destroying all these beautiful buildings when they should be restoring them.

Top Dog: (remaining silent so as not to fan the flames of yet another tirade)

D: (Mockingly) Oh really!, yes, mmhmm, that's right, I'm having a conversation by myself.

I guess he'll be having a lot of conversations by himself. I've decided no to bring him out for the rest of the week. Maybe I'll go out, and get my car fixed, then spend some time in Toronto getting laid.

Not that this will make your day...

but it made mine. I got a promotion Friday. Not only did I get elevated to a higher job category but my new sales manager felt I was underrated in my current category. So I got bumped up a category and raised within my new pay band and I got what was in my manager's words "a big fat raise." Really. I have a feeling she wanted to say "a big fat fucking raise" because that's what it was but we don't talk like that at work (most times). I had no idea this was possible anymore in this day and age.

For the first time since I graduated, I don't think I'm being underpaid for what I do or that I'm doing work that anyone could do.

It might be time revisit my "co-parenting with lesbians" plans. I'm not going to be rolling in money or anything but I could afford to support a child or two. Better than to piss it away on a car or something.

What's wrong with people?

More specificly, what's wrong with these fucking people?

Jesus christ! It's not 1800! Your kids will likely survive childhood so there's no need to have more than 12 of them. I'm sure at least 1 or 2 will live long enough to have kids of their own. Fuck, her twat must be tired. But Jim Bob (yes, he's really called that) must like it sloppy because they're ready for child number 17.

I haven't even mentioned mom's wicked mullet. Check out the photos on the family's web site. She's had the same goddamn hair since she got married. What's worse, the daughters are damned with mom's hair.

Have a look at the list of the family's favourite web sites. My new favourite site is the one for Wholesome, Modest Swimwear. I'm sure mom only thinks it's right to dress modestly. The poor woman looks like she gets fucked every time she fluffs her mullet. Imagine what an animal Jim Bob would be if she wore a really hot two piece!

Fucking Christians

I went to church because my mother made me, my brother and sister go. Mom was pressured to go by her father and her holier-than-thou siblings. My dad was smart and stayed at home. My mom made friends at church and would occasionally let them take us on Sundays when she wouldn’t be able to go.

I wouldn't have minded it so much at the time if a "friend" of a "friend's" family didn't make repeated attempts to molest me over the years. Whenever my mother wasn't around, he would notice my shirt was untucked. Then he'd tuck it in and feel my dick and ass while he was at it. Funny thing was, I made conscious efforts to tuck in my shirt perfectly every Sunday but it was never quite to his satisfaction.

Other times when my siblings and I stayed the night at the friend's house, the old pervert would come over for dinner and or stay the night. After dinner, he'd cuddle me inappropriately and even offer to help by giving me a bath before bed. Thank god he never got me naked and he was never given a room to share with me or my brother.

So that probably explains my attitude towards fucking christians. It's not an overly simple association between church and violation of my personal space. It's a general intolerance for anyone who imposes anything on me from unwanted advances to religion.

The experience also demonstrated to me, at a young age, how pathetic so-called christians can be. I remember standing in the pew at St. Paul's in Hamilton, almost crying, while an old closeted pedophile fag groped me. No one else at church ever noticed. Not even the old ladies standing right beside me. They must have been busy saying their prayers or paying their tithes. Too busy trying to buy their way into heaven to notice what was going on beside them.

I also remember being at someone's house while the same old fucker groped at my groin. No one stopped him. I can remember how they all looked away uncomfortably and how relief finally took hold after I pushed my assailant away one evening. (The pattern of putting up with bullshit for long periods and then suddenly standing up for myself has also stayed with me)

Thinking back now I believe these people would have had a much easier time scolding their un-neutered German Shepard for humping a guest. But they were at a loss to do the same thing to a respected church elder who liked young boys. I know they knew what he was like because I remember them saying things like “Mr. Smith lives with Mr. (whatever) now”, “They’re both widowers and they spend a lot of time together”, “Mr. Smith went a little ‘funny’ after his wife died.” Ya, real funny.

I see a parallel between them sitting in their own living room while I was being molested and sitting in church like automatons. At their home, they knew I was being felt-up but they sat around uncomfortably and pretended not to notice the injustice in their midst. They acted like they preferred not to embarrass their friend rather than take a stand. At church, they obediently prayed, sang in the choir, and generally did things that other would like them to do. I'm sure that if they suspected their religion preached hate and intolerance, they just ignored it rather than take the risk of upsetting anyone.

So I pretty much don't give a fuck about christians. Until I can understand how anyone can watch a child get molested and look the other way I'm not about to change my mind. Yes, there are nice christians out there somewhere just like there are nice muslims but that's no reason to join the taliban. My holier-than-thou aunts and uncles are fucked too by the way. Years of sermons have done nothing to help them change their disfunctional lives. Fuck them all.

There's nothing like

talking to an old friend. Someone I'd lost touch with has moved back to Hamilton, temporarily at least, and we spoke on the phone last week. My friendship with R dates back to the eighties when he knew he was gay, he sensed I was gay and I suspected that I might be gay but hoped to hell I wasn't.

I haven't come out to him yet but these things have a way coming out into the open and it's possible he's heard already. My only apprehension is how he might react to the fact I'm not out to my family. Some gays are intolerant of closets around them or anyone else. I find the more "out" I am, the less patience I have for people who are more "in". I'd never "out" anyone because I believe other people have a right to live their lives the way they want. Someone tried to do that to me once and it was cruel. I have a gut feeling who it was it's not important now.

I just dont have patience for guys who want to hook up; at my place, discretely, on their schedule because wifey might find out. My own shrinking closet is my problem but I won't be confined by anyone elses. I'll make an exception if a guy is sufficiently hot but it's rare. Why would I go through that much trouble when I can walk out my door and have my cock in someones mouth in minutes?

I don't think R is judgemental like that so I don't think he'll get all political on me. But either way, I'd like to get things out in the open when we meet next week. From what I hear, he was apprehensive as well that I might not like him or I might feel awkward about his gayness (and rumoured attraction to me in high school). I'm sure we'll both appreciate putting it all in the past.

I have spiders

I think everyone has them. I don't usually think about them and since I moved into a new building, I was living in a bubble thinking there were no bugs in here with me. I don't usually mind spiders (or anything with eight legs or less) but this one bothered me. He, and I'm sure it's a he, turned to face me when I got close to him. It seemed like a sign of agression.

I was freaked out a bit because I got so close I could see lots of details like the orange dot on his back and his striped, hairy legs. He had a very recognizable face so I went and did a search online to see if I could identify who my new roommate was.

He's a common black jumping spider and he's not poisonous. I'm glad I checked becasue that night I could see him on the face of my clock as I tried to sleep. I'd have been up all night if I thought he could take me down.

I haven't seen him in a few days. I hope he's alright.

Has Darth Sidious been cloned?

I wanted to ask "Separateed at birth?" But someone else on Blogger noticed the resemblance and used the idea already. The first thing I thought when I saw Benedict, after I hoped for his hastened death, was "That's the evil guy from Star Wars".