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.