re-hash

no, this is not about recycling weed…

…so i apologize to those who were mislead by the title.

i know i covered this before, but to be honest i’ve had too shitty a day (and evening) to google myself extensively and find the older one – so here we go again.

i saw something i never thought i’d see on sunday: a simpsons episode with a “viewer discretion is advised” warning at the beginning. because they showed yellow nudity? nope. drugs? nope. swift and blinding violence? nope.

okay, so all of those were probably in there somewhere…but they ALWAYS are – it’s what’s kept the simpsons going for lo these many years. and they never had to show a warning before it. no, this episode went after something far from violent, pornographic, or hallucinogenic. it went after marriage.

actually, it didn’t go after it. it supported it. embraced it, even. the issue? it was GAY marriage…

is this honestly that big a deal?

i know quite a few gay people that are “married”, just not in the legal sense. and why they can’t be, i just don’t get.

“because it’s against god’s way…”

okay, i might can give you that. while the bible was written by MAN, not some divinity with a futuristic stone tablet pc, and was therefore written in the best interest of the men who wrote it, if they were weirded out (as most men still are, and even more so back then) by the aspect of man on man relations (although i have to wonder if women on women relations, provided at least one of the two parties is pretty hot, got them going the way it does most guys today) that would be forbidden…and seeing as how there is no “hot lesbo action” exception clause in revelations or whatever i guess they decided to make it all wrong in the interest of not making god look like he has the morals of a frat boy at a strip club…

…or me and my friends at any given point in time. but, i digress…

so, all same sex stuff, including the hot girl-on-girl action is forbidden by god.

(never mind the “how can something so beautiful be so wrong” discussion with the latter part of that phrase)

i can grant you that. having never heard god’s actual voice tell me one way or the other (i might be crazy but i have yet to attain that level of disillusionment) i guess i have no choice but to take a mulligan on that one.

so, once again, turn to the simpsons.

reverend lovejoy felt the same way…and as a parade of homosexuals, marching two by two like noah’s menagerie, marched up the front walk of the church, he boarded up the doors like kramer’s place when the bass are biting (or ME’s place when there’s a half-off steve madden sale, or whatever helps you visualize this).

so, i guess the official church stance would be that same sex love is wrong unless it takes place between a minor and someone who frowns upon gay marriage…but perhaps that’s just the catholics.

regardless…

so, don’t let gay people get married in your church. or any church. unless there is some gay church out there (which i’m sure there is, and don’t use my comments section to recruit…nothing against y’all, i’d say the same to ANY religious organization). but you know what?

we have a separation of church and state…

…or so the theory goes.

so, since there is no LEGAL reason i can think of why it can’t happen, why not allow adam to be with eve OR steve, depending on his preference? or AMY to be with eve? i mean, we have constitutional amendments guaranteeing that a woman can vote like a guy, work the same jobs for the same pay as a guy, and go to war like a guy (kinda). why can’t she take on the joys (and not-so-joys) of having a wife like a guy?

and if a guy can go give his life for his country, and arrive here generations before with nothing but the lint in his pockets and build billion dollar empires, why can’t he have a husband instead of a wife if he so chooses? show me the legal reason, and i’ll back your cause – provided the law isn’t based strictly on some mythological jerry garcia look-a-like in the clouds saying it just can’t be. society is more than ten years old…the “because i said so” (or god says so, as the case may be) just doesn’t fly anymore.

so, all that being said, and eliminating the all mighty (which ever one you so choose) from the equation, what basis is there? the way i look at it, i watch the election coverage EVERY year – and you know what? if god or buddah or ganesh or whoever had shown up at the polling place of their choice, CNN would have been SO on it.

but they didn’t. the deity’s didn’t vote. and if they don’t vote, they don’t have the right to complain, right? i mean, if they didn’t elect you, you don’t have to worry about a dip in the polls courtesy of buddah getting ticked because suddenly every other house makeover we see on hgtv belongs to “travis and his husband” instead of “travis and his PARTNER”, where’s the harm? if they ain’t a firm (law, cpa, what have you) they ain’t partners. they’re husband and wife. or wife and wife. or husband and husband. or whatever their CHOICE may be.

and isn’t america all about personal CHOICE?

so, what’s left?

only one thing i’ve been able to uncover…

“homosexuality is a disease that can be cured”

which implies that if a guy and a guy DO get married, and then one of them actually pops a straight-a-cillin when he was reaching for his echinacea and is suddenly personally offended that pamela anderson lee decided to pull her implants, and he agonizes over it while hunting, or whatever we straight guys are supposed to think about and do, that all of a sudden he’s locked down in a marriage where he’s not happy, and therefore gay divorce would become rampant. so, by keeping it illegal, we’re saving them the legal difficulties later on – because when the gay folk of america wise up and take the hetero highway, our courts won’t be clogged.

…and if you honestly believe that? you really, truly believe that homosexuality is a disease? i have a cure for YOU. it involves a gun, a single bullet, and your temple. and god help us all if you’ve started breeding before you give yourself a glockotomy.

but on the upside, we can educate your offspring before it’s too late.

see if all you opponents of homo happiness can do the same thing. educate yourselves. it’s never too late. old dogs CAN learn new tricks, no matter how pig headed they might be. gays deserve to be just as happy (or as miserable, as the case may be – not everyone can be me and be so lucky as to marry the notorious h.l.g.) as the rest of us. keep all men and women equal – it’s what this country is all about, right?

no mullet required (thankfully)

for a brief moment, i felt i had become what i had made fun of oh so long ago…

there i was, in the parking lot of lockhart high school, kissing my girlfriend good bye before she went in and i drove off back to the house.

you what i like about high school girls? every year i keep getting older, but they all stay the same age…

**shudder**

for those unfamiliar with indy cinema that was a line (or paraphrase thereof) from “dazed and confused” and was NOT what was actually going on. what was ACTUALLY going on was that alex, the notorious h.l.g., has started substitute teaching, and because we share my car right now i had to run her to work before heading off to work myself.

but that was still a little too close for comfort to all-too-familiar territory.

when i was in high school seeing a guy that was WAY too old to be hanging around the high school dropping off some hot latin thang before burning off in a cloud of smoke and dust with “pour some sugar on me” blaring out of the t-tops of his iroc z for a day of beer drinking and cope dipping with his other loser unemployed white trash friends before heading back up to campus to pick up the jail-bait brains of his peer group.

(see, for those who HAVE seen the movie about high school in texas it’s not too far removed from the truth)

i mean, sure, there were a few crucial differences

1. alex isn’t pregnant
2. alex has not only a diploma, but a bachelors, and was there to teach
3. no iroc, no def lep, no unemployment – and no lockhart hair

have i ever talked about the lockhart hair? for some reason, THE style of hair to have if you were in athletics or whatever made you one of the popular kids when i was in high school was basically what could today be described as a mullet, but with an interesting twist.

you see, in my day at lhs (lockart high school) your hair couldn’t be past your shirt collar. so all the guys had it short and brushed down (or spiked up) on the top, super short on the sides and part of the back, and then permed into these tight curls on the back so they didn’t drop too low.

if you can’t picture it i’ll try and upload some yearbook photos. of OTHER people, that is. i didn’t do the lockhart hair thing. and i should probably blur faces lest someone find out and sue.

but yeah, for a brief instance i felt like one of THOSE guys from back in the lhs days that i used to make fun of…but i guess the little differences make all the difference this time, huh?

chainsaws & stingers

allow me to prove i’m cultured by summing up my weekend in a haiku…

chainsaws are not toys
facial hornet stings suck ass
but i will survive

(and you knew i would elaborate…)

saturday i had to work. yeah, well, sucks to be me, right? so, i was leaving the house to go pick up some pre-work bar-b-que when i heard that echoing of the door lock catching in my head indicating to me that my keys were in fact NOT in my pocket.

so, i had to break into the house.

i saw a paint can tool i knew i could use to jimmy a window, but when i went to grab it from behind something in the garage, i discovered the OTHER thing in that little space – a hornet’s nest. (they apparently partied the night before and were not cool to being woke up at 10:30 on a saturday morning). the first couple nailed me in the upper arm / shoulder area (i was wearing a sleeveless shirt) but another of the little turds got up on my face and stung me twice on the upper lip.

(for those of you taking notes at home, that hurts a LOT – although not as bad as my LAST time i got stung, which was on my left EYELID!!!)

so now my lip is swelling, my nose is running, i’m in a shitload of pain, i’m still locked out of the house, and i’m barefoot (because the shoes i was going to where to work were locked in the car). i crawled through an unlocked window and got back in the house to call the office and tell them i would be in when i knew exactly how much my lip would swell…

(not bad, really – not bar fight kinda swollen, just pleasured a woman that wasn’t clean kinda swollen)

post work i grabbed grub at sandy’s and headed down to san marcos to hang with harold and the sharp things crew and watch san marcos kids get busted (the cops were out HARD ’cause it was graduation night for college and the last free weekend for high school kids). the two funniest ones?

1. the girl who had a cop sitting behind her at a stoplight WITH his lights on, and she proceeds to go through the intersection and turn the wrong way down a one way street and drive that way for a BLOCK before getting the hint and pulling over.

and…

2. the two teenage kids that rolled PAST said idiot with their windows down, radio cranked, and beer in hand in front of two police cars AND a state trooper. when the cop pulled the beer cans out of the car and started to run their paperwork, one of them started to drink from a pepsi bottle. the state trooper noticed and yelled to the cop. the cop snatched it out of his hand, saw it was pepsi, and started to give it back…but at the last minute decided to sniff it first. pepsi, adult style. they went to jail.

my sunday i had set into motion post sandy’s and pre sharp things. for the last several weeks i had been trying to borrow a friend’s dad’s chainsaw to trim a tree that was attempting to grow THROUGH my house to no avail…we just couldn’t get our schedule’s synced up to make this happen. then it occurred to me – i HAVE known his dad for eighteen frickin’ years, why not just call him direct? i did, and the next day i had a chainsaw in my hands.

he he he…

me and a chainsaw. for five hours. i HAVE to get me one of these. plus, all those sleepless nights watching crappy late night espn 2 paid off – i knew to cut a wedge out of large branches to control where they fell and NOT pinch the blade. it was the stuff i had to do while i was on the roof that was a bit dangerous.

for some reason my phone went into analog roam mode and wouldn’t get out – so if any of you called on sunday and wondered why i never called back, that should explain it. but it also meant my girlfriend couldn’t reach me, which was both good AND bad. if we could talk, i probably would have been a bit more detailed with my plans than i was. and if there’s one thing i’ve learned about long distance relationships, it’s not to tease out the worry factor – which saying something to the effect of:

”baby, i’ve got to run up on the roof with a chainsaw now by myself for a couple of hours, but i’ll call you later, okay?”

would have done. so, it sucked not being able to talk to her, and i missed her a lot…but there was some goodness that came out of it. the sad part? the only time i almost DID take a header off the side of the house involved a push broom, not a chainsaw. after all the trimming (and the fact that these limbs had been up there a while) there was significant saw dust and tree shrapnel that needed to be cleaned off the roof. while i was up there i noticed what was left of the broken limb still dangling by what looked to be only bark (about six feet long, eight inches in diameter, probably around a hundred pounds). it was too far to reach with the chainsaw, but i could whack it like a pinata with the push broom, which is what i did.

first swing – foul tip
second swing – home run

i heard the branch start to give as it swung like a pendulum, then with one last crack is swung off the tree – and right into my ladder. the ladder started to fall, but i dove for it and grabbed it with my feet about two feet off the edge of the roof. i pulled it back upright, but the branch was still hung on it, so i had to shake and twist it till it fell so the ladder would stay upright and i could crawl down.

but after all THAT, i was cool, and it was time for the evening cigar and the simpsons.

now i just have a couple more trees to take care of…

“look honey, gang members…”

i got smacked for that one – but not too hard and not in the face. so, i guess i can’t bitch too loud, huh?

i was merely pointing out that kids in baggy clothes and matching shirts flashing hand signs at each other reminded me of the movie colors…but the pop cultural reference was mistaken for abject cruelty. in her defense, the hot latina girl i was with had only been hanging out with me for about two hours at that point, so i guess we were still in that “first impression” phase.

but never mind that now…

i’ve always had a mini van rule. not just that i would never own one – but when it comes to food. if i pull into a drive thru and see a mini van, i park and go inside. nothing will EVER go quickly when you’re following a mini van through the drive thru. even if the van has one occupant, you damn well know they have fifteen snot-nosed brats waiting for them at home – and they all had different happy meal orders.

fuck all that. i’ll order inside and take it to go.

i used to apply this to SUVs as well, but now that every wanna be playa and their girlfriend wants to roll in a truck, that doesn’t always apply anymore. but the bottom line is, when i go to get food, typically i wait till it’s crucial point time, and so waiting a ton of time is kinda annoying.

luckily dessert isn’t the same way, ’cause the other day i saw something pull up to amy’s at the same i did that’s worse than 3 SUVs and 3 mini vans combined…a school bus. when i saw them slam on their brakes to stop traffic and let the kids poor in i thought to myself, “well, at least this can’t get any worse…”.

i have GOT to stop jinxing myself like that…

what makes more noise and takes up more time than waiting behind twenty kids? waiting behind twenty kids from the texas school for the deaf. okay, so they weren’t that noisy (which was surprising – typically hearing impaired kids tend to be since they can’t tell they’re being loud) – but it was time consuming. they had to write their order down, and then if the amians (pronounced a-me-ans) had questions they had to write the questions out and wait for the kids to scribble their answers. kids that ONLY speak sign and amians (that barely speak english at some times) are not an expeditious combo – but with a hot latina girl in a very short white mini along for the ride (ya gotta love when a girl shows enough thigh to make deaf kids drool…or maybe they were just REALLY hungry for ice cream) you tend not to mind – at least i didn’t. so, at least i’ve discovered a secret for making the wait for grub not so unpleasant – have something cuddly with you, and all is well.

but i still hate mini vans just on general principle…