Yet another reason why ChaCha is so incredible. She has her own blend of coffee.
If you're a coffee snob like we are, then get the Yin & Yang blend at Chaos Roasters.
It's Caffeiney Goodness, sprinkled with awesomeness. Porn in a cup.
If you ever use non-dairy creamer in this coffee, let me know where you live so I can come stab you in the face.
Stumblers: If anything strikes your fancy, cover up your fancy and click the "I like it!" button on your taskbar.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Yet another reason why ChaCha is so incredible. She has her own blend of coffee.
I have now officially entered the organization that includes such members as Sigmund Freud, Maynard G. Krebs, uh... Jack Sparrow, Lenin and...er... Lenin. Ok, even with as popular as the 'tee is now, I can't think of too many. Regardless, it has now bridged that gap between "homeboy needs a shave" and "growing that out on purpose."I couldn't tell you for certain at what point it crossed that line.
So it's official. I have facial hair. I'm THAT guy.
It's funny how I've already become a little defensive about it. It has a bit of gray in it, and there's a small bare patch under my chin on the left-hand side that I can come up with all sorts of stories for (none of them true).
But it does look pretty good on me, IMHO. A bit scraggly, but getting close to the point where I can use a trimmer. I guess that would be the final turning point to "Goatee Guy." Buying products to maintain. I'll pick one up tonight.
Perhaps that's another reason I never got this far before. I'm lazy. It's easier to shave than shape & trim. It's a good thing I didn't apply the same logic to my hair, or else I'd have been bald long ago.
Pics soon to follow.
P.S. ChaCha likes it, so it stays.
Monday, April 23, 2007
I work with a bunch of men, mostly middle-aged to dead. Needless to say, there are quite a few aromas emanating around the office.
Ok, I'll be blunt. I had to take a crap. Upon entering the bathroom, I almost got knocked down by the smell of someone already in there "using the facilities." Right away I knew it was our president. Little guy, pretty nice. I wouldn't say he's old, but his diploma's on tree bark.
As I was saying, the air in the bathroom was thick. Anyone that's ever smelled a bathroom after an old guy's used it knows the smell I'm talking about. I'm talking about eyes-burning, paint-peeling, whatthehelldiedinhere smell. Word of advice to anyone that might meet my Dad: Go before he does, or hold it.
Anyway, I took a deep breath and proceeded to do my business and get in/out of there as quickly as my bowels would let me. Corpsy McDougal left shortly after I started. So I got done in record time. Still holding my breath, I bolted for the door, opened it up, and came face to face with...
the two guys in the office I actually get along with.
Then it occurred to me. Well, the look on their face as the door opened was obvious. It smelled like three-week-old mustard omelet in there, and I'm the only one in there. As I left, they entered, and as the door closed I heard them bust out into laughter behind me.
Gawd, it'll take me a while to get over this one.
-Tenacious "Swampass" B
Saturday, April 21, 2007
I've been inspired today.
There are so many demons in our lives that we ignore, we try to avoid out of fear. When I see someone stand up and take charge it makes me aware (again) that we have control over our Universe.
The Dragons will not go away without a fight. We must stand up and face them. Only then will they be gone for good, and peace will settle across the land.
There will always be adversaries. There will always be those that try to seize power. What I was reminded of today was that we CAN fight for what we believe in. Each of us are in control over our own universe.
I forget that sometimes.
I'm proud of you.
Friday, April 20, 2007
In my email today...
Dogs' and Cats' Diaries
Excerpts from a Dog's Daily Diary
8:00am Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30am A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40am Walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30am Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00pm Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00pm Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00pm Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00pm Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00pm Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00pm Wow! Watched TV with my master! My favorite thing!
11:00pm Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Daily Diary
Day 683 of my captivity : My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape... In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the floor.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am.
The audacity! There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released --and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded! The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. The captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe.......for now.
at 11:40 AM
I'm turning into more of a Texan every day. Granted, born and raised here, in the country no less. But I've always viewed myself as a "New Texan," the cultured, yuppie techie-type.
This morning alone I've caught myself saying the following phrases:
Chompin' at the bit
You best not
I'll tell you what
Chunk it over there
It's not that I'm adverse to becoming that guy. After all, I'm proud of my Texas heritage (4th generation). But for real? "Chompin' at the bit?"
at 10:27 AM
Thursday, April 19, 2007
My heart goes out to those that have been affected by the recent tragedy at Virginia Tech, to those both directly and indirectly. My words may offer little consolation, but know that the human spirit goes on. To those walking away from this, I can say that you have been changed forever. No question there. Just decide what it means to you. Thoughts and feelings are things. The energy created by those things can be focused and molded to make a positive or negative change in the world. Choose wisely.
There are no bad emotions. It's ok to cry, to be angry, to be frustrated. It's ok to yell, scream, curse, and lament. Those actions release the pressure. But never lose sight of those around you. Take a look around. See the faces of those others affected. Be with them, share with them, hold them close and let those feelings fly.
Easier said than done, I'm sure.
It's been several days now, and fingers are already being pointed. Stop it. "What if's" solve nothing. What has happened, happened. There was no way to predict human nature. Our biggest strength is our biggest weakness.
My advice: Take what has happened, and become a better person. Anger and recrimination solve nothing. Fear and anger root you. Make a difference. As harsh as it sounds, something like this will happen again. But you are strong. Take those feelings and change the world.
"You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty."
-Mahatma Gandhi (1869 - 1948)
Waking up in your arms, bringing you your coffee. I sit on the edge of the bed, looking at your beautiful face. My hand caresses your cheek as your eyes open slightly, and your lips curl into a sleepy smile.
"Get out. You'll be late."
I kiss you softly and leave, now prepared to take on the world.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Reality is perception. Actuality is what we focus on.
The sage says, history repeats itself. That's true, but only if you never take your eyes off of it.
Remember the past. Remember the good bits, the love, the laughter, the wonderfulness that is your memories. Just as you throw away something broken, discard the things that no longer work in your present. But hang on to the things that do work, the happiness in the past. That'll ensure that only the good history repeats itself.
If you focus too much on how dark the room used to be, you end up failing to see the candle burning there with you right now. See the flame. See the light. I'll keep it burning.
We all choose our memories. Make sure they're the memories that set you in flight, that free you rather than bind you. The world is ours. Come enjoy it with me. Love with me.
We are making new memories today, at this very second.
How I perceive life is dictated by one thing. I constantly ask myself, "Later in my life, will I look on this as a good memory?" If the answer is no, then I look for a way to change either my perception or my procedure. From my life now forward, there are only good memories being created. Everything else is forgotten.
Let's make a wonderful life together. And years from now when we're old, sitting on our porch yelling at kids to get off our lawn, we'll remember these times as the best moments of our lives.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
I'm trying to grow facial hair. Don't ask me why. I just got an itch to try again. I think it had to do with one day a few months ago when ChaCha mentioned I'd look good with one; But it might have something to do with the fact that I've never been able to before. That's right. I'm not the guy with a five-o'clock shadow. Hell, I barely have a shadow at five DAYS. I normally shave twice a week. Read that again. A WEEK.
So I'm trying again. I remember when I tried to grow a moustache in college. It wasn't happening, so I called my Dad, who has the same growth rate as me (translated: none). I remembered he had one during the 80's, along with half of the male US population. I asked him how long it took for him to actually grow it out. A few months. Not the answer I was looking for. But he did tell me that he hated it. It had just taken him so long to grow it out that he didn't have the heart to shave it off.
My dad. Love him.
The process has begun. It's been almost two weeks now, and I've already shaped it. The beginning of a decent Vandyke. A bit scraggly, perhaps, and a bit more gray in there than I'd like, but decent nonetheless.
But the moment of truth is tonight. I'm seeing ChaCha and she will decide. Honestly, I could go one way or the other. I as of yet have not developed a relationship with it, so if she doesn't like it, then it's gone.
So I'm done, finished, complete. Captain Hook will not be digging in my mouth with that Mephistophelian backhoe for at least 2 months.
Needless to say, I'm jazzed.
Jazzed and in pain. Throbbing, being-punched-in-the-face-repeatedly pain.
I decided this morning to damn the torpedoes and take a Vicodin this morning. It still hasn't kicked in, but the throbbing has at least waned a bit.
Something occurred to me this morning, though. They mentioned on that initial visit that on the second appt (i.e. yesterday) that they would also fill a small cavity. They didn't. Needless to say, I'm not saying a word.
But for at least a couple of months Captain Hook will need to find another victim for his nefarious experiments.
On a side note: How many of you noticed that my Google Adwords links are regularly for Dental care? That cracks me the hell up.
Monday, April 16, 2007
ChaCha asked me what the keywords should be for her blog. It got me thinking. I mean, to break down one's innermost feelings put out into the universe in single, defining words, separated by commas.
Then it hit me.
Perhaps the difficulty I've been having with creating the life I want is that even though I KNOW how I want my life, I must define it. Not in the traditional definition, but instead as keywords. I AM a geek after all, so perhaps this will make more sense to me.
So here they are. The 20 keywords for my life.
Excellence, Believe, Happiness, Compassion, Passion, Success, Generosity, Greatness, Peace, Humor, Independence, Worth, Exciting, Life, Growth, Amazement, Wonder, Achieve, Unconditional,
Today at 1:30. That's when they go back in, past the DMZ, into the forbidden zone of the left side of my mouth. As they said when they rescheduled, "It'll be about 2 hours. I want to spend a lot of time in there."
Not something I'm looking forward to.
Look, my teeth need to be cleaned. There's a bit of work to be done in there.
You know the last time I went wasn't the most pleasant experience I ever hoped to have. It ranks between getting kicked in the 'nads and falling off a 10-story building and getting my eyelid caught on a nail. So don't inform me that this situation will be worse. Lie to me. Tell me that it'd feel like oral sex forced upon me by a roving gang of supermodels. Say that the only discomfort will be from the 18-year-old naked Polynesian princesses walking on my back while feeding me apricots from platinum trays and describing the porn series they're in with their twin sisters. At least then I'd only be pissed off afterwards, and not before the fact.
And people wonder why I haven't gone in 5 years.
To top it all off, I get to come back to work after (again).
Saturday, April 14, 2007
No secret as to my opinion on religion. But I do still read up on what people believe to gain an understanding of them.
Bush's "Holy war" being one of the things I don't understand.
I'm not one to propogate religious essays, but I came across something that was VERY intriguing and well written.
Warning: It's a long read.
OK, so one of my current goals was to learn another language. I figured I can do that via podcast while driving, and decided on Spanish. First of all I live in Texas; and secondly, ChaCha speaks it already.
I found some free ones, and Coffee Break Spanish came recommended. After listening to the first podcast, my brain tried to flip over itself and exit through my ears. Don't get me wrong. It's a good lesson, fun to listen to.
I think it'll be interesting as a Texan speaking Spanish taught by Scotts. You heard me. The two on the podcast speak in a VERY strong Scottish accent. It seems to be a really good training lesson, but we'll see how long it takes for me to speak Spanish without getting laughed at, if at all.
This should prove interesting...
BTW, you can see for yourself by downloading the lessons here.
- Time awake: 5 1/2 hours
- Cigarettes: 6
- bottles of Naked juice: 2
- Trips to the john: 2
- Time spent walking around my place wondering what I was looking for (total): 40 min
- Cups of coffee: 5
- Number of times I thought of ChaCha: 3,487
- Number of those that were not of a "physical nature": 975
- Time spent thinking of the stuff I should do today: 30 min
- Time spent doing those things: 0
- Time spent in front of the computer: 2 Hours
- Number of songs I skipped on my playlist: ~60
- Posts written: 2 (including this one)
And the day has just begun...
I'm trying to get stuff accomplished today, but I can't.
My main isn't allowed to level up any more, since I promised ChaCha I'd never have him higher than her.
My Pally's waiting for ChaCha to get a little closer as well.
I can't seem to get into my mage, since he's my lowest alt, and it'll be a while before I can stand to look at any level 20ish zones again.
Then there's my Druid and Rogue. Both are at that place where all the quests are orange/red, and still a couple of levels from the next landmark levels. So they're dying a lot.
I think I'm gonna step away today and take a walk.
Friday, April 13, 2007
I'm proud to be an American. At least, proud to be what America has and can stand for. But when I say America, I mean the philosophical ideals, the ethereal connotation of it.
America to me means freedom, liberty, equality; none of which seems to exist in America as it is today, in its practicing societal form.
America has become the "great evil empire" of the new millennia? I was remembering Russia being labeled this by Reagan in the 80s. Now that I look at it, there are many parallels to 80s Russia and the current US government, which back then were deemed "heinous acts."
The one that really got to me was thinking about the strike Russia took against the Mujaheddin insurgency in Afghanistan in 1979. The main difference being that they were there to support the existing government instead of overthrowing it, as we have in Iraq. But both wars were (are) very unpopular and utter failures.
How far away are we from an all-powerful government? Closer than you might think. The current administration, using "executive privilege" are creating a branch of government shrouded in secrecy, and is bordering authoritarianism. The Bush administration are not typical conservatives. True conservatives typically prefer small government power, more as a administrative role to the constituents than active decisions. Bushies are, as Dean puts it, "radical authoritarians." They make decisions without informing the people (or even the other branches of government, in fact) of the what, why, or even how. When our own legislative branch can't ask questions of the executive branch under oath, ESPECIALLY Karl Rove, the checks and balances have failed. What does the Executive branch have to hide? There are no National security issues here. It seems to me that they are just flexing their political muscle, pushing the envelope of their power. To put things into perspective: Nixon waived privilege during the Watergate hearings, as did Reagan during the Iran-Contra hearings.
Our liberty is disappearing, along with our power as a people. If you have any doubts, I recommend you read Lord Johan Steyn's Guardian article here.
Back to my original question. "What if..." Do you think the Russian people during the Cold War were any bit the wiser as to the actions of the government? So far we still have free press, but no telling how long that will last. Besides, the current administration has a well-known history now of giving out false information and propaganda.
I hate to admit it, but perhaps we're more in the dark than we believe.
A devoted father
A caring, loving husb...er, not-boyfriend
A successful business owner
Healthy, fit and active
Also I am...
Funny and well-liked
A college graduate
Furthermore, I am...
Happy, joyous and passionate
A mentor, coach and guide
Destined for greatness
There, I said it. I'm committed to who I am, and who I will be. Now I can work on making everything above happen.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
I'm sick. As in my internal organs have begun an open revolt.
My office is so lucky I'm even here today. Granted, I'm not going to accomplish much, but at least I'm present.
I feel bad because she wasn't feeling well the past few weeks, and I didn't realize the severity of the overall ick. But that's a little justifiable. My ex (wow, um, I haven't come up with a pseudonym for her yet... anyway) was a hypochondriac. Seriously. She was ALWAYS sick. And so it got to the point that I was very unsympathetic to her various illnesses-du-jour. So this made me realize that when ChaCha says she's not feeling well, she means it.
My dentist cancelled my appointment yesterday afternoon because of the SARS/Hanta/Ebola that I am currently hacking up regularly, and rescheduled for Monday.
I better get a lollipop this time...
I've heard that before. I'm a good guy. I'm a gentleman.
I hold a door open for a lady, I stand when she enters a room, I pull out her chair, I help her up from her seat. It's not anything chauvanistic, it's that my momma taught me to respect a lady.
ChaCha would like to see me as a "bad boy," which translates to me as "kind of a dick." I've pulled it off a couple of times, and she REALLY likes it.
I don't think I can ever truly me "that" guy. I've lost many a girlfriend in the past to them.
The thing is, I can't see what draws that line. Dangerous? Eh, I've been the motorcycle-riding, chain-smoking, joyriding, fight-starting guy. Adventurous? Chalk up skydiving, spelunking, rock-climbing to that. Anti-establishment? No question there. Aloof? Definitely. Forward? Absolutely. Charismatic? Have you MET me?
But still I maintain the stigma of "nice guy." I'll admit, it is tons o' fun taking full control of a situation. But I still maintain that label.
Eh, fuck it. I am who I am.
Monday, April 9, 2007
I'm gonna talk seriously here for a bit, then I promise I'll go back to being a smartass. Promise.
I love my family.
I hear so much about dysfunction, abuse, hatred, distancing, etc among other families that it makes me appreciate mine that much more.
My parents are amazing. Married 41 years on the 30th of this month. That is a statement in itself. They're cute as hell, and still hold hands. They are a testament to finding the right person.
I have two older sisters, and they have succeeded in their lives consistently in career, family, and happiness.
Then there's me.
One of my own deep-seated psychological problems is that I will always be striving for their approval, especially with the folks. I want them to be proud of me. They SHOULD be proud of me. But to them, I will always be the kid that wrecked two cars, got drunk in high school, was kicked out of college TWICE, etc etc. Somehow I don't think there will ever be a time where they will ever think of me in any way but the messed up kid I once was.
Sure, I screwed up in the past. You've had to bail me out more than a few times. But damn, what's the statute of limitations on that?
See me for who this guy is now. The one with a good job, money in the bank, the awesomeness known as ChaCha on my arm. That old B is gone. Look past that.
Last October there was a major screwup at my bank, and I had zero funds on the morning that I was taking out the Dad for his birthday. I called ChaCha to vent, and she told me to call them and explain. They'd understand. I couldn't. Although in the past few years I've had some lean times, even though the situations were entirely understandable it was not an option to let them know. It would only justify and validate how they view me.
I love all of you, but get over it.
The dinner was awesome, I had a friggin blast with my sister's kids, and had great conversations. The wine helped.
I love my family.
Saturday, April 7, 2007
My vacuum died yesterday. Not in the stopped-working-for-no-apparent-reason or works-but-not-as-well-as-it-should way. I mean died in a blaze of glory, with sparks and a poof.
It's partly my fault. Partly.
It's mostly ChaCha's apartment complex's fault, but I'll let her feel free to state what originally happened to it.
Turning back the clock to 6 months ago...
After my divorce, my ex got the vacuum. Fine with me, I never really did like it anyway. Plus, it gave me an opportunity to shop for shiny things with flashing lights and noises and bells and whistles and and and... So I went for a groovy little Bissel number which was far better than I really needed, but me being a guy bought it. How sad is it that I'm such a geek that I get a vacuum for bragging rights?
Pretty, n'est-ce pas?
So enter ChaCha. She has allergies, and three cats (I know, I'm seeing the crazy cat lady). So I offered to loan her Ol' Red. The next part is for her to explain, but she ended up pulling eight pounds of a white powder. No telling what the street value was of her carpet. Anyway, after I got it back, it never did work right again. I cleaned out all three filters, including actually removing the hepa filter and it still wouldn't work.
Three weeks of it sitting idly downstairs in my dining room really started to bug me. Since I was off yesterday and had vowed to actually do stuff I took it to the upstairs bathroom to see if I can make it work again.
Disassembling it, it turned out to be much worse than I thought. Every piece I removed dumped tons more of the carpet coke onto my bathroom floor. Every piece that didn't have electronics attached were cleaned out in the tub, and the rest got a good rubbing from a dry washcloth. I felt happy about the results, especially once I saw that certain pieces were in fact NOT white. Then came the reassembly.
Let me pause for a second to mention that I am not a mechanic. I don't know much, but I do know electronics. I did have all the wiring hooked back up in minutes, the actual reassembly of the rest of it took a bit longer. I was very pleased with the result. In fact, I did so well in putting it back together that I even had a screw left over. That, I'm convinced shows a natural aptitude.
So here's where it's partly my fault. Even though water came nowhere near the electronic components, I should have let it sit for a day or so to let any residual water elsewhere in the unit (hehe..."unit") dry.
But, all caution to the wind, I plugged it in.
Ok, all the power is still on. Good sign.
I reach over and flip the switch.
It wasn't as dramatic as I hinted at earlier. But there was a flash of light from the base, the bulb blew, and a spark jumped out and landed near my foot. A tiny puff of smoke wisped from the front.
I stood there blankly, long enough to let the faint smell of ozone waft to my nostrils. Moment of silence. Let us pray.
So if anyone out there is interested in a slightly used vacuum, I can make you a helluva deal (In accordance with Texas disclosure laws: it does have a slight electrical problem).
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
The pain has hit me in full force. Let this be a lesson to everyone. Go see your dentist regularly. When Captain Hook was elbow-deep in my mouth yesterday, he was doing what he described to another hygenist (or assistant, or janitor; I never caught what his exact title was) as "scaling under the gum, hitting bone," which meant using an angle grinder to find the pain resonance of my jaw. He found it, BTW. And this was while he was saying that I DID take good care of my teeth. Heaven help me if there was anything actually wrong with them. So yeah. I'll be going to get the cleaning done a bit more often. "You haven't been in a while... you must be punished."
My gums are still bleeding, and the entire right side of my head is one big ouch. In all fairness, it wasn't really that bad during. They shot so much novocaine into me that they could have been setting off fireworks from my bicuspids and I would have been none the wiser.
What made it worse was that there was a huge screwup yesterday at work, and after my appointment I had to go back to save my own ass from someone else's mistake. I didn't get out of there until almost 11.
I'll be counting the hours until 5pm, when I can start popping pain pills by the handful.
Monday, April 2, 2007
A toothbrush. A friggin toothbrush. THAT'S what they gave me. And it's a boring one. I would have been okay if it was a Spiderman toothbrush, or maybe even a muppet one.
Well, in all fairness, Captain Hook DID get me a prescription for Vicodin, so he's not a complete tool.
I still want my lollipop. Or a muppet toothbrush. Or a rocket.
I'm going to the dentist today, and I'm not looking forward to it. It's been 4, maybe 5 years since I've been. You'd think someone with as much of an oral fixation as myself would go 4 times a year (My dear sir, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar). I think my dislike of dentists goes back to when I was a kid. Up until I was about 15, everyone in my family went to the same guy, a "family" dentist (which means they went to him out of routine). Now, what I remember most was that he had hairy hands. Very. Shag-carpeting-wookie-fur hairy. Mind you, this was back in the 70s when they didn't wear gloves. Ick.
So I need a major overhaul. As a matter of fact, they're only doing half my teeth today, the rest on the 11th. It's a result of the lack of dental visits, plus all the coffee, red wine, smoking, poppyseed bagels, plus plus plus. Don't get me wrong, I take care of my teeth. I brush at least once a day, I floss about once a week. I use the burny stuff. After all this time I only have one small cavity.
But yet I'm still nervous. They're going to give me novocaine. I'm not adverse to the N, but I would much more prefer a Xanax, tequila shot, and nitrous. Make me not care that you're digging around my mouth with Nazi war doctor tools. And then give me a fucking lollipop. I deserve it.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
I don't like Hillary Clinton. For starters, she's not really qualified to hold office as opposed to many other Dems out there. Also, there's that business with her distancing herself from Bill when he needed her most. Yes, I still hold a grudge about that. In addition, she talks a lot of smack but you never hear about anything she's actually done as a Senator.
That being said, she's the "Great White Hope" for the Democratic party in '08. They need her. Last year, the American people said that enough was enough with our current leaders, and changed teams in an almost unprecidented rally. So what happened after that? Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Tons of Non-binding resolutions, which mean (for wont of a better term) absolutely dick. To me, this was them being that smart little kid in the back of the class with great ideas saying, "We should maybe do this if it's ok with everyone else, but it's fine if you don't want to."Geez, grow some cojones, why don't you?
Which brings us back to Hillary. Laughably, she has the biggest pair of jewels on the Senate floor. She's outspoken, and a way of making people rally to her. She's a very strong speaker, and to be honest doesn't really take any shit. If you haven't seen the last State of the Union address, I encourage you to. Not for the rediculous sludge spewing from Dubya, but for the moments that the camera turns to Hill. I laughed out loud seeing her responses and golf claps. She also seemed to have a smirk on her face that I interpreted as "I can't wait to be the one giving this speech." She's ready to stir the pot, and I think we should let her. She has the personality, the huevos, the charisma, as well as the ability to call it as she sees it. I can't wait to see her in a debate.
Which brings up the question: Is America ready for a woman president? Honestly, with who the American people have elected into office in the last couple of decades, I don't think they'd really care. I'm sure that people ignorant enough to use that as a reason to not vote for someone don't vote anyway.
Besides, who else do the Dems have?
-Obama's there, but even though he's young, charismatic AND black, he doesn't have the ability to raise support, and nobody's taking him seriously. Plus, I haven't been too impressed with his speeches. Go to his website and watch the vids. You'll see what I mean.
-Lieberman is the most intelligent and best qualified for the job. However he has the personality of a wet mop. I get the feeling that during debates in the HSGA Committee, Susan Collins continually sneaks up behind him and gives him a wedgie. Plus, he's one of the few Dems that support the war. BOOOOOOOOO!
-Dodd. Dodd who? It's saying something when he shows up in the polls at LESS than the margin of error.
-John Edwards. He's a smart guy, and arguably the best-looking out of the bunch. But it'll take a while to get the stench of the losing Kerry 2004 ticket off of him.
We need someone to be able to take control of the beurocracy and give it a stern talking to. Since Dean declined the nomination, my support goes to Hillary. Ick.