Dude, I was at the bookstore the other day and came across everyone’s favorite feminist manifesto by Inga Mucsio (sp?)…only now Cunt has been revised and expanded into a 2nd edition. Wow! Now I can find more creative ways to replace my heartless-male-corporation-mass-marketed-earth-killin’ feminine hygiene products. But I don’t know…I was having an awful, awful lot o’ fun shoving sea sponges up there…in that place that is apparently the center of my womynly being (notice my politically correct spelling).
Yesterday was my last exam. Whoo hoo! So I left work early, absolutely exhausted, and flopped own on the couch to eat a PB&J and watch Rurouni Kenshin, which is a tad bit on the juvenile side for my tastes, but I have this thing for red-headed Samurai with big eyes, small mouths and Canadian accents, but the problem with watching Rurouni Kenshin is that you have to sit through annoying kid-marketed commericals, and the only reason that happens is because they edit the shit out of Kenshin and put it on at 5:30, and it is a total fucking shame because that means that all that great drama of the Meiji Restoration and the divide between the new merchant class and the old feudal system which brought about the Ishtashi revolution (as dramatized by the ronin wanderers of the Sekighara battle) that makes Rurouni Kenshin such a great fucking action/drma is totally lost in translation because American kids are too fucking stupid to sit still and actually use their fucking heads to understand the depth of such a story, but anyway…I had to sit through the commercials because I was too tired (or too lazy, take your pick) to find the remote between the couch cushions, so I just sat there like a good little consumer when I saw it, the most sick and twisted product ever marketed toward children…The Water Worm. It’s this giant rubber “worm” that can squirt water up to 30 feet. But let me tell you what this worm looks like. The commercial has an older “daddy” type holding a giant peachy-erection purple worm that, from the distance he was standing, looked exactly like a giant double-dong dildo, and I do not exaggerate because a giant double-dong dildo is pretty distinctive in shape and hard to mistake…I’m not saying that I own a double-dong dildo, but I have seen them and they are very intimidating. But it gets worse, the Worm Wrangler then proceeds to stroke his worm, hold it against his crotch (I kid you not) and then ejaculate water all over the camera lens. Then he started to ejaculate his worm onto the kids, then they started ejaculating their worms onto each other. SICK AND TWISTED I TELL YA!!! I really want to know who thought that a giant spooj-shootin’ phallus would make a great toy for children. Sheesh!
Look assholes, I’ve just finished my last class of the semester. I have to bust through a paper, draft up article reviews and somehow pass a lab exam that I predict is going to kick my ass from here to Olduvai, and the one thing, the ONE Freakin’ thing that I have been looking forward to is the release of the first 8 epis of the WK Ghulen season. See Erin smile? See Erin do a happy dance? But what’s this I hear about a change in character design? What changes? I hope you are talking about the changes that would naturally occur within a year’s time. Growth I can handle, but I can’t even begin to describe the flames that will shoot out my eyes if I find you’ve turn them all into chibis or some shit like that. I mean, it’s ok if you decided to make Omi actually look like he’s more than five years old, but if you have fucked with my WeiB, so help me god I am going to go totally Hiroshima on your ass. I will fucking storm downtown Tokyo knocking over every fuckin’ building, stepping on cars and burning shit up with the flames that will be shootin’ out my eyes. Basically, what I’m trying to say is…KEEP YOUR GODDAM HANDS OFF THE AYA-SAN.
I’ve got three weeks to finish up this massive research paper, and the one book I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really need is checked out to some asshole until June. Fat lot o’ fucking good that does me. Shit, my paper is on Japanese perspectives of ghosts in relation to view on death and the afterlife, and the book I want is “Ghosts in Japanese Culture: Experiences in Death and Legend.” Jesus, it is the only book translated into the English language with direct relevance to my freakin’ topic. So thank you very much, Mr. Jeffrey Mahone. If we ever meet, remind me to kick your ass!
So I had to buy the book from Amazon Booksellers. I only had to pay $18 fo a used copy, adn I argue that I’d probably have stacked up that much in library fines anyway. Still, it better be freakin’ worth it.
I finished reading True History of the Kelly Gang last night. A bloody good adjectival book. Only now I can’t stop saying adjectival. It’s become my word of the week, but it only sounds good when said in some brassy, badly enuciated Australian accent, which is annoying the piss out of the people who sit around me. But I’m sure they’ll get use to it, just like they got use to my clusterfucks and shit howdys.
Adjectival! Adjectival! Adjectival!
But reading all this stuff about Ned Kelly made me realize how deficient my knowledge of Australian history is, so instead of working I’ve been surfing around and reading up on various Aussie factoids and events. There is some damn good shit there. It’s a shame they don’t teach it in school, because it’s pretty freakin’ cool, all that stuff about the founding of Botany Bay, Honest Ben Hall, the cheeky women of Hobart. From what I’ve seen so far, Aussie history has this element of the fantastical about it, you think someone was making the shit up (and maybe they are, I have no idea), but there is such an intriguing current of defiance and triumph and tragedy. It has all the soulful, poetic woe of the Irish, but without the hopelessness (We’re poor, Da’s drunk, I’ve got coal dust in me eye). It’s like combining the works of the McCourt brothers with a Clint Eastwood western. Not to say it’s not depressing as well. The tales of Van Diemen’s land and the fate of the Aborigines will bring an adjectival tear to your eye.
*sniff*
But I hear they made a movie about Ned and the gang starring Heath Ledger and Geoffrey Rush. I hope it doesn’t suck ass, because I would like to see it and I don’t want to waste my adjectival money.
Seriously, he was in my dreams last night, coming at me with the thigh bone of an antelope. Jeez, Raymond, why are you picking on me? I’m not the first person to laugh at your “killer ape” theory.
