Gay marines, dumpsters and closet slaves

They're not all part of the same story (though that would be interesting).  These were just some of the fascinating news items this week that got me thinking.

THE GAY MARINE KISS UPSETS MANY

   Hard to believe things like this are still an issue.  The hubbub is no more than old fashioned bigotry rearing it's aged head again.  There was the same outcry when interracial couples first publicly crossed the smooch barrier.  That's not an accepted bigotry anymore and it's a bit immature of us as a culture that this still is.

  Obviously there is love here, and they have every right.  That's absolutely true regardless of who it make uncomfortable.  On the other hand, Ewww.

   I'm not a hypocrite.  Don't you be one either.  If they have a right to their feelings for each other

-which they do- then I have a right to my feelings as well, okay?  Okay.  To wit, my feelings are Ewwwwwww.....

THE DUMPSTER OF YOU DREAMS

   Can't afford a 'real' place in these hard times?  Just as there's 'if the world gives you lemons make lemonade' now there's 'if the world gives you dumpsters make a dumpsterdwelling.' 

   It puts me in mind of the old quote "The Lord helps those who help themselves." Which is either indicative of an empowering god who really believes in the 'rise above' ability of his creations, or a lazy deity who can't be bothered to get his omnipotent ass off the couchcloud.

  If I were He, I'd have this invention become the latest hit in the micro-house market and let the inventor make some bank.

THE SLAVE IN THE CLOSET

   Obviously the dumpster life isn't for everybody, but it beats being a slave in a closet.  As the breaking story goes an immigrant from India came to live as a maid and nanny for the owners of this palatial mansion.  These wealthy bastards then basically enslaved the poor woman, forcing 17hr days 7 days a week for the past 5+ years.  When investigators got wind of this and began closing in the 'lady' of the house called the woman's relatives in India to enlist their help in persuading the victim to help in the cover up.  The relative taped the calls and passed them on to the authorities.

   It's the phone calls that really got me.  This person was so used to wealth and privilege that although she understood what she'd done was illegal, she didn't really feel it was that wrong.  Otherwise she'd be too ashamed to contact her maid/slave's family in India, much less try to enlist their support in a cover up.

   There is such a thing as having too much money.  That's what this story means to me.  One can have so much compared to other people that one comes to believe they're above those other people and the laws of common decency as well.

   The solution (if I were god) is obvious; have them switch places.  As Sting sang so long ago Then you'll find your servant is your master

   I'm a fan of divine justice, especially the poetic kind.

SO I WON AN AWARD

Lastly but not leastly I've just received a Lobster award from Angie of Angie Uncovered.  (And when she says 'uncovered', oh boy!) It's my first award from a pole-dancer, and as such I was surprised, honored and horrified in equal parts. 

Surprised, since I didn't even know that I was qualified for the coveted lobster. I can only assume it's for how well my generous tail tastes in butter.

Honored, because nude women don't usually take note of me until after I've climbed in the bathroom window and yanked the shower curtain aside.   

 



Never accept a secondhard award like this
if they've never even bothered to wash the
lube off it first.  Lesson learned.



Horrified, because well, it is a second hand award.  Angie got it before me, and I guess her awarder got it from the person before her and so on back to patient zero.  I'm not normally a germaphobe but this thing's been passed around more times than Lindsay Lohan at a biker rally.  I bought a 55 gallon drum of anti-microbial soap to give it a full immersion treatment before actually touching it, and rinsed it off with water fired from my department's deck gun just to be sure.  So, thank you Angie.  (Use of the deck gun was free, but you owe me $87.50 for the soap.)





When you've really, really, REALLY gotta
hose something down -use the deck gun.



Brown Fat and Robots riding Camels

I just found out today we have a second kind of fat (no kidding) - brown fat.  You're likely thinking "Thanks jerkoff, that's all I need!"


Like I don't have enough problems already.



  Not to worry, it's healthy and actually helps burn the white fat (or Fat fat).  So, you know, GO BROWN!

  [Now I'm curious how many hits for UPS I'll get for that.]
  The other startling thing I learned this week was that arab camel racing enthusiasts are so rich they're buying robot jockeys to ride in these races as opposed to their old method of buying children from poor neighboring countries to be the jockeys.

  Of course, they didn't do this on their own.  It took international humanitarian outrage at all the children-buying a/k/a slave trading before they threw up their hands in frustration "What's the point of having all this oil money if we can't buy a few slave children to jockey our camel races?  Next they'll be telling us we shouldn't stone women to death for adultery if they've been raped.  What?!  They're already complaining about that?!"

If I were god... I'd still let the children be the jockeys, but the slave traders would be the camels.  I think a 5 mile course in the midday desert sun would make the point, don't you?


Camels ridden by mechanical robots race to the finish during a six kilometer race at the 12th International Camel Race in Kebd February 14, 2012. According to organizers, camel jockeys were replaced by mechanical robots in 2005 due to international pressure because camel owners were found to be involved in human trafficking, buying children from countries like Pakistan and India for their smaller frame and lighter weight to ride on the camels.



WHAT IF GOD IS CHEATING ON US part VIII

Eartha finds out the hard way the difference between 'real' and 'true'.

I'm sure there are a number of people checking their scores and calling either their long-suffering mothers or local zoologists.  But in case there are any 11's out there, I would gladly accept a Jolie or Knowles or even a Fox in lieu of an Aguilera.  (I am reasonable, am I not?) Also, a new hot tub.  Thanks, G!

WHAT IF GOD IS CHEATING ON US - part VII

"OH, I see now! You insisted THOU SHALT PUT NO OTHER GODS BEFORE ME,
didn't You?  But not a word that You wouldn't put any other creations before ME!"

It's been a while since the last installment, so let me recap the final paragraph of the last page so that the new pages make sense.  I was speculating on other possible theories for God's absence.

  Is He the Donald Trump of the Universe, developing properties all over the place, putting His name on everything, before selling His shares and moving on?  If this were the case I’d love to have the ticker symbol.  Not  

Next time: The God Test

It'll only be a short wait, a day or two, to make up for my Super Bowl winning sojourn away from here.  (In case you hadn't heard, THE GIANTS WON THE SUPER BOWL.  AGAIN.  see post below for details on how Ahmad Broadshaw brought the victory in for an ass landing.)

When Giants fall on their ass

-they win the SUPER BOWL.



Ass me no questions, I'll tell you no lies;
I forgot not to score.

Giant running back Ahmad Bradshaw was not happy to have scored the go-ahead touchdown with about a minute to go in this very tight Super Bowl.  As a Giant fan at home wearing my brand new Cruz jersey, I wasn't happy to see it.  He tried to stop at the 1 yard line, squatted to freeze his momentum, and tipped ass first into the end zone anyway.  History's only unwanted touchdown.  Why?  You don't leave Tom Brady that much time at the end of a game, not in the Super Bowl.  He wins them that way.

Except against my Giants.  Yes, my Giants.  The defence held again and the Giants won the Super Bowl.  A-gain.  Sorry, Tom.  I know that's twice now.  That's gotta hurt.  But he's already got Giselle Bundchen and three title rings.  This one belongs to clutch QB Eli Manning and the New York Giants.

And if I were god, I wouldn't have had it any other way.