early to rise this morning.

 

My company is having its "goal setting breakfast" for the new year.

 

we will dine on cold eggs and optimism.

 

and the souls of kittens.

 

Can someone, anyone please find who ever is responsible for the Hillary Duff song "To The Beat Of My Heart" and shank them?

 

I would say shank Hillary Duff, but she is just a meat puppet whom with out whatever miracle made her a pop star would just be some mediocre looking high school chick no body liked.

 

 

I don't even know why I turn on Mtv. Its like watching a monkey fuck a football...only not as entertaining.

 

silly munkeh!

 

I crashed out at like nine. Oh blessed sleep, why has thou forsaken me?

so I wake up at 1:00 am and cant go back to sleep....precious sleep.

 

So I open up drudge, and on the cover is that beady eyed butt baby from a pig whore of a leader of Iran dancing on the grave of Sharon before he is even dead and Pat Robertson interjecting that maybe this is god's punishment...and then I get to ponder religion on it more ugly merits for a bit. I'll save you from that diatribe and offer a charming tale from my youff instead...cause it is funny and ironic (now).

 

When I was a little girl, in my first foster family, I embraced their religion (christianity, catholics) whole heartedly.

 

I needed to believe what they were telling me, about a god man that loved me and if I just had the faith of a mustard seed all things were possible.

 

 So being the weirdo that I was (am) I one day decided to show god that I had faith and loved him and his son and was grateful to their presence.

So in my great wisdom I collected all of my favorite things. Mostly rocks and fossils. I liked and still like rocks and fossils that I find here and there, but anyway..I put these precious and humble things into a box, climbed up my favorite tree...to the tippy top...where it bent under my 8 or 9 year old weight, and proceeded to try and throw the box up to god.

 

cause you know, if you have the faith of a mustard seed, you can move mountains and crap...and boy, i had a whole jar of mustard. I was throwing crap to heaven! Just try and stop me!

 

well of course, when i threw it up, it didn’t take long to go crashing down to the ground...and i reasoned that I wasn’t concentrating on my faith enough...

 

so I climbed down and retrieved my box of precious things.

 

 

and climbed back up the tree.

 

with all my mighty might  I closed my eyes and prayed really really hard, and tensed up my entire body till it hurt and tries to push my love all the way up to heaven...and flung the box into the air again.

 

and it fell back down.

 

 again

 

and again...

 

and again...

 

for hours.

 

 

towards the end, I started to think, "I’m not good enough, he doesn’t want the precious things of someone so un-good" so the last few efforts consisted of my crying, hard as I climbed back up, and down...and up and down...looking for branches through tears as they snagged my very unfashionable hand-me-down ugly dress and scraped the already scraped and scarred un girlish like legs of a child who often climbed trees and “did stunts”. I didnt look like an angel at all, or mary, or any of the people in the paintings you saw in church..I was a pretty ridiculous site to someone like God surely...I didnt blame him.

 

Anyway, the dinner bell rang and I took my dirty box of precious things, my dirty knees and torn dress and walked to the house wondering what I could do to make my self worthy of such a gesture in god’s eyes.

 

 

That was Christianity to me. It was self humbling, it was meek, it was not proud…but here we have Pat Robertson to tell us that, in fact…Jesus gives people strokes as punishment, which could lead one to believe that anyone who has ever suffered a stroke was in fact being punished by god.

So what have we learned today folks? We have learned that if you or a loved one has had a stroke, they deserved it. According to Mr. Robertson. Ah yes Mr. Robertson, thank you for that gleaming example of the spirit of Jesus. Perhaps we have run out of cheeks.

 

dickhead.

^

^

(I'm not a christian anymore ;))

 

 

 

 

Once upon a time

there lived a carrot. He was an average carrot, but he had big carrot dreams. "Why" he told his carrot friends, "why when I grow up I’m going to be a carrot cake!" His carrot friends would tell him what a great carrot he was and how he could go on to do great things as far as carrots go.
One summer sunny day he was discussing his carrot cake dreams when the old farmer happened upon the conversation. The old farmer was an angry, bitter man; you see, he had itchy anal warts and he was always irritable. Now on hearing the carrot's bright dreams and optimism he became enraged at the carrots insolence. He stood over the carrot, casting his shadow over him, and stared down with red eyes of hate. His voice then boomed, "you arrogant little nothing, how dare you presume to have any power over your fate! I care for you, planted you, nurtured you! Do you have no consideration what I might want to do with you? For my needs? Your creator?!
I will choose what you become you worthless little nothing!" Just then he reached down and pulled up the little carrot by his soft parsley like leaves and then broke him in two. "What do you think of your dreams now?!" the farmer hissed. The carrot crying little carrot tears, bleeding little carrot blood just looked, frozen in disbelief. The farmer then threw the carrot down to the ground and stomped....and stomped, and stomped him in to the ground. Then the farmer spat on him and walked away. The little carrot lay in the sun, in his tears, in his blood. He could hear the whimpers of his carrot friends but could not move to see them or speak loud enough to console them. He felt his life, and dreamed his dream just one last time. "I could still be a cake," he said. I would be the finest cake ever..." he dreamt a little more of cake shops and women in fancy dresses staring at him through the window, him standing tall and beaming pride..." laying wasted and dieing on the ground he dreamt...and dreamt....and the sun fell, and the stars shined and he dreamt just a little more.

Love your carrots. They are beautiful.