Just what are little boys made of?

Just when I thought I was bored with the internet, Radmilla to the rescue. Her November 26th blog entry about Maverick Mothers.

Referencing an article about this book: Drexler, Peggy F. with Linden Gross. Raising Boys Without Men: How Maverick Moms Are Creating the Next Generation of Exceptional Men.

Ya, this sounds more like someone figured out a way to get money from the government for another bogus research project.

Even if these boys are raised by just their mother lesbian or not, it does not mean they have no male influence and she does qualify her research by saying,

"Maverick mothers, ... seek out male role models, collect friends to form an extended family around their sons, and often go outside their comfort zone to offer a variety of activities and enriching experiences."

In a perfect world this would mean that these boys would be influenced by only the most perfect specimens of men. But in reality it is more likely that the 'Maverick Mothers' have little or no control over which male is influencing their sons or how.

Consider this. Forget for a moment that the boy even has a father. I got him a Big Brother. He was a perfect specimen, a college student (but not a geek), responsible, loved sports and his mother, no criminal record, fiance (a perky cheerleader type) who he eventually married. They had a baby, he became a teacher and a perfect hands-on father. He is a perfect role model.

Now, did that keep my son from becoming an occasional asshole? No. He says and does things that his big brother wouldn't in a million years. I often think that giving him this man in his life may have been a double edged sword. On one side you have the perfect nuclear family, something to aspire to? On the other it may have caused some resentment. Like, why can't my father be like this or why isn't my mother like her.

Even if you could control which male influence you subject your son to, you can't control how that figure influences your son. Am I making any sense? It is 6:30 in the AM.

I think that the only way for this chick, Drexler, to prove her theory is to raise these boys on an island with just women. No tv, video, or even interaction with the other boys. Male influence is male influence. They are going to get it whether she likes it or not. She can only control the where of the equation.

See the only thing she is proving is that a boy without a father in the home is a boy without a father in the home.

All you can do is love them and hope for the best. Boys are not just lab experiments, they have brains that are influenced by everything around them.

Save me from myself.

Ok, it has happened. I am bored with the internet. I have finally reached the last page of the internet. I am finally on a shift at work where I can surf the net all night if I want and I can't find one place on this world wide web to hold my attention.

I go through my Daily Read blog list and that takes about 10 minutes. I have already read all the archives of those blogs, now I am stuck.

It's 6am and I am thinking about hauling out a box of record albums and get them entered into my music database.

I am a freakin wild woman.

Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

... and your little dog too!

Holy Crap! Felt like Dorothy last night. We had a pretty intense storm. Rain and 120km/h winds. My whole house was shaking and swaying all night long. The power was going off and on, interfering with my web activity. Bastards!

If you live in an older home you know what I mean. Not a very peaceful sleep, I tell ya. Everything creeks and shudders and sways. Every once in a while all three and you wonder if the place is going to come apart. Once the power went off however I lost interest and went to bed. The boy, however, was not convinced that the house would not come down so he didn't get much sleep at all.

At any rate that is the excuse he is using this morning for not going to school.

And another thing...

Something interesting in our local news this morning. A local couple were in the
one billionth car to cross the MacKay/MacDonald bridge. A toll bridge by the way.

That got me thinking. Shouldn't it be free by now? Consider that it costs 75 cents today to cross these bridges. Even if it started out as a quarter. A billion quarters is like a 25 million dollars isn't it?

I have no idea about math, and I can't use the calculator since I don't know how many zeros there are in a billion. But it is still a crapload of money at any rate. Much more than these two bridges could have cost.

High tea with the Politically Incorrect Sisters.

Went to the war memorial on the 11th with my mother. If you remember, the woman is 77 and off her gourd on a good day. As luck would have it, this day is also the wedding anniversary of her sister. This means that after the service, we all meet at a local restaurant for lunch to celebrate.

Picture it. My off-her-gourd mother and her deaf sister in a crowded restaurant with 20 other relatives who have to pay attention to them whether they like it or not.

Every time I heard, "Trin! Give me your good ear." I cringed.

Let me see if I can set the scene:

First, our waiter. If he wasn't gay, he played one on TV. (If you are an old girl like me you get the joke referring to the old commercials, "I am not a doctor but I play one on TV.") Actually, I know him and he is gay. Anyway, I digress.

Ok, where was I? Oh right, the scene. I am sitting in a booth with the Sisters directly across from me. You might also remember that cousin Sonny the Geek (Like Zorba the Greek) is marrying a Chinese girl. She and Sonny are sitting two tables down and to my left. One more table down sits his sister, with her baby boy (freakin adorable) who she had with (if I remember correctly) a Jamaican guy she met out west. And like me, out of wedlock (my mother loves to say). Add the gay waiter and hilarity ensues.

Now I also have to qualify this, for those of you who may think I am about to tell you that the sisters are raging racists or homophobes. They are not. They are just of a generation that used different language in their day to day lives. They absolutely adore Sonny's fiance (frankly everyone thinks he isn't good enough for her) and they brag that baby up like it is the second coming of Christ. And they are as old as shit and, as you all know, old people don't give a shit what they say or how they say it.

There is no way, however, to clean up the language and still tell a decent story, so here goes.

"So, Trin, where did Elle meet the Negro boy?" I give her the look that says 'will you fuck off somewhere?' "What? You can't call them (she uses the N word) anymore or colored." Now I know why we usually get a private room for these functions.

Note to self: Never go out in public with these two.

Trin is nodding, "True, true." She looks at me as if she is asking something as innocent as what the time is. "What is so bad about that word? It's just a word. I never understood why people get so upset over it."

I look at her like she just fed me a spoonful of shit, and it ain't going down well. "It's not just a word, it's a derogatory term and I don't want to hear it."

"It's sort of like....if I were to call you a bitch. You might be a bitch but you don't like to be called one do you?" This goes completely over her head. And it didn't quite hit the mark anyway but I couldn't think of a worse word.

The empty gourd pipes in, "Half the time you don't know which word to use anyway, they keep changing it. How are we supposed to keep up?"

"How about we just change the subject?", I say, "That would be peachy." I am now drilling daggers through Sonny. Trying to telepathically get him to come and get his mother. These two together make me want to crawl under a rock. Luckily the gay waiter shows up with our coffee.

"You know the queers are getting married now, isn't that nice for them?" Trin misses this because the empty gourd is talking into her bad ear.

I have had it, "Will you shut up! For the love of God!" She doesn't understand what might have upset me this time. "Can we just eat in silence?"

"Trin, give me your good ear!" Holy shit, what now? "You know, Sonny's girl doesn't look Chinese. Does she look Chinese to you?"

Trin considers this, "I don't know what it is, but your right, she doesn't look Chinese. But she says she is not Chinese anyway, she is Hong Kong." She is pleased with herself that she has remembered that she was told this.

"Uh, Hong Kong is China." I say.

A lightbulb goes off above the head of the empty gourd. "I KNOW WHAT IT IS NOW!" Oh Christ! I will so leave her behind to walk home if she doesn't shut the fuck up.

She proceeds to put her fingers up to the outsides of her eyes, "She doesn't have this." and stretches them out! I kid you not!

"Your right!" Trin says, as if my mother just revealed the cure for cancer. And proceeds to mimic the actions of the empty gourd. "She doesn't!" Please God, don't let Sonny's fiance look this way while these two bittys are making faces. Pleased with themselves like they figured out the meaning of life.

Thankfully the food arrives and they stuff their pie holes. As soon as my mother finishes the last bite I hustle her out of there.

I know they were not being malicious, but for some reason I want the world to believe, (at least while I am with her) that my mother is not a complete social retard.

Revenge is sweet.

This guy has been scamming the scammers for years. Read all about his escapades in:

Ebola Monkey Man: Pissing Off Nigerian Scammers One At a Time!

It really is a hoot. He eventually gets them to send a picture of themselves holding up a sign with their code name written on it. Usually something obnoxious like Iama Wayne Kerr.

About time. Hilarious.

And another thing...

It's a rainy windy day today. The boy is at a friends since last night so I am bored. I have been surfing since 8am and thought I would fill you in on a few more interesting sites I have discovered, and a couple I have rediscovered.

Cockeyed.com - the pranks page. Check out Image Listing Imposter, very funny.

Rabbit Blog - I used to read this back in the early days of blogging, can't believe I ran across it again.

Greates Internet Moments - it was my starting off point, lots of off the wall things here. Including this.

Monkey Call - For 10 bucks (American, go figure) these people will call you and pretend to be a monkey. I kid you not.

Sucks.com - daily updates on everything that, well...sucks.

Homestarrunner - fun with cartoons. Especially funny is the 404 Error messages.

And this is just disturbing. But you have to expect disturbing when you surf the net. It is definitely not for the faint of heart.

Well that should be enough to keep anyone busy, I know it did me. I am off now to watch all the pirated tv I downloaded. I know, I could have watched it last night when it was actually on, but where is the fun in that?

Ciao.

It's Snowing!

Not enough yet to make a snowman,(it's melting as fast as it hits the pavement) but it's snowing!

Snow
It won't be long before we'll all be there with snow
Snow
I want to wash my hands, my face and hair with snow

Snow
I long to clear a path and lift a spade of snow
Snow
Oh, to see a great big man entirely made of snow

I just dated myself with those lyrics, but I love snow. I am probably going to upset people by saying that. But I think that you can not possibly get into a Christmas spirit without it.



And even though I am broke beyond words, I will get into a Christmas spirit.

I am thinking.....spiked eggnog? Whatcha think?

Merging on the information highway.

My sister is on the internet, although I am not entirely sure she realizes it yet.

My sister moved, again. This time she has bought a trailor in the middle of Butt-Fuck-Nowhere. Last week she called and asked if I would come over if the cable guy hadn't shown up before she had to go to work.

"I thought you already had cable?"

"Ya, this is for the high speed internet." I didn't think she even knew what that was.

"Do you even have a computer?" I don't remember moving a computer the last 15 times she moved in the last month.

"Ya, the old one from the house." Holy shit.

The 'old one' from her old house that we coudln't even get dialup to work on properly. The old one running windows 95. The old one that we couldn't find USB ports to work with. This is what she thinks the cable guy is going to hook up high speed internet on.

Time to call cousin Sonny, the family geek. "What do you got that is internet ready?" Thankfully he had something kicking around.

"It's nothing fancy, but it will run high speed."

"No worries, she doesn't need anything fancy. As long as it won't make the cable guy laugh out loud."

So, we are ready for the internet. Cute, young eye candy cable guy shows up to hook up hook us up. In a few we are online. I do all the standard updates and install the instant messeging agent and away we go. Before I leave I add myself to her messenger.

That is the last I heard of her. I can see her online, but I assume that she has just never logged off since I was there. I try and messege her, but I am positive that she has no idea what that flashing orange thing is.

Turns out the only reason she got high speed internet is so she could get free cable. She will aparently wait a few weeks and cancel the cable and then splice it back through her cable internet. The internet she never uses.

I do not pretend to know how her mind works. I just pray every day that she doesn't become an grease spot while trying to cross the street on her own.

Kids today are vegetables.

Just take a look at what is popular today. It makes ya want to lock up your kids, and force feed them some classic rock, sans video. Video killed not just the radio star, it also slaughtered the idea that you had to have actual talent.

Point in fact. Take a look at this crayon.



File this under WTF? This is Buckethead. Apparently a famous band? Person? Group? Who the hell knows. And yes, that is a bucket on his head. Not exactly a Rhodes scholar. His mother must be so proud. She is probably the one who insisted on the disguise.

These guys are so embarrassed by their dubious career that they won't even show their own faces, and probably never will.



And Marilyn Manson? Please, is this guy/chick/thing on crack? I swear kids today are just lemmings. They eat this shit up, and they don't even expect people to be able to carry a tune or play a decent lick. All they need is some weirdo to put a drum beat behind some spastic screaming.



Unfortunately, I could go on and on. Kids today are just mindless vegetables that are willingly fed this shit intravenously. It makes me want to drive a sharp object into my eye socket.

What about you?

Happy Birthday!

To Me!

How pitiful is that? Although I think the gummie bear makes it that much more special.

Hey Mom! What's a rack?

During the Iraqi war, we (Bloggers) first heard of Salam Pax through a blog entitled Where is Raed? It was actually more like January of 2002 when I started reading it. Just after President Bush directed my attention to the fact that he might go over there and blow the shit out of something. About time!

Anyway, Salam Pax became very famous in the blog world. Many of us sat and patiently waited for him to post and worried when he didn't. He was blogging from Baghdad, giving us day to day commentary on the state of affairs. Most of what went on on that blog during 2002 has been removed. But now Salam Pax has written a book and released a video diary of his experiences during that time. It was quite interesting to hear about the war from the ground. From ordinary people that were living it day to day. We (Bloggers) did not have to rely on the media's take on things or official press conferences. We had blogs from Iraqi citizens as well as a few from military personnel stationed in and around Baghdad.

One in particular that I enjoyed was Lieutenant Smash. The weblog of a member of the military stationed in the Middle East with his first person perspective on the war. It was interesting when he returned home and revealed that he was actually incognito in Iraq and his true identity as the Indepundit, a well known blogger state side. Unfortunately I could not find any posts from his LT. SMASH days but it was very interesting hearing of his experience living in the desert during that time. Learning just how many baby whipes a grown man can go through in the absense of an actual baby. These days he is out of the military and posting as Citizen Smash - The Indepundit.

More recent ramblings from Salam Pax can be pieced together from a couple of other blogs he has such as the Fat Whiner and Shut Up You Fat Whiner.

There were many other blogs that I used to read daily such as A Small Victory, and the Command Post but most of them are either gone now or I just can't remember the names of them anymore.

Does anyone care about the war in Iraq anymore? Most of us can point it out on the map now but that's about all we know. Do we even know if the war had an end? Has it ended? Maybe that is the problem. It dragged on so long, we lost interest after the excitement of the bombing of Baghdad, and the capture of Saddam. I am not even interested in Saddam's trial. I couldn't care less. I know he won't get exactly what he deserves.

What do you think?