not quite ready for a picnic...

how much can you take from someone mentally, physically? there is a certain amount of blood that the body can lose before it shocks and you pass on...medically. do you die before that? if everything you believe in is taken away...taken in a basket. how do you react? the basket is pretty, and this basket carries pretty things...innocence, happiness, trust, belief in a stronger power, believing that human beings are basically good people...
the basket never fell. you were never blamed for the poor weaving at the bottom of this container, the handle never broke...your spirit never broke. ideals were not lost, they were stolen.
this isnt about me, or anyone reading this (unless you happen to relate). its just about a girl...a basket carrying girl. a girl whos eggs were knocked out of the basket she held.
this girl held a couple more things in this basket...regard for both myself and the ones i ho;d dear, trust in the friendship attempting to develop, and an optimism that people can leave what they know and excel where they are.
eggs are meant to be broken, thoughts are meant to progress, people are meant to be both disapointed and overjoyed.
baskets are not only meant to hold old beliefs...they attempt to provide a space for the new that are aquired along the way...
some drop contents, others pick up. what you decide to leave can be as important as what you find.

to all of you...embrace what stayed,move on from the broken, and hold your basket close and keep walking...there is always room for more.

when do you realize that you are just o.k.?
you're not great you're not bad you are just o.k.
your personal life is fucking fabulous but your head doesn't feel right.
you realize this isn't someone else's fault or problem...your mother wasn't still breast feeding you at six years old and your father didnt touch you in your naughty place...you just couldnt win the race you were in... even though you had all of the cars.
when do you cry?
when do you apologize?
when do you write letters saying, i wish i could i have been more?

you dont...

you sit up, stand up, grab your balls and cough. realize that you are what you are...and chances are...you are better than most. winning isnt always being the best ever...its being the best in the situation you are in.
its being able to say thank you, can i help you...and fuck you in the same conversation...

so anyway...im back and i want to say thank you for the support you showed after my last post... i want you to know that if there is anything i can do to help any of you...fuck you! because im back and you know what...?i have all of the cars...and im winning the race.

just to let all of you know...

Frances Seroba Shifflett (my grandmother) passed away this afternoon around 1:00 p.m. eastern time.
she was not taken from us, we let her go where she needed to be.
she died the same way she lived, with dignity and class. she lived and left with love from all of us and memories far surpassing this time she spent in the hospital.

contributed by guest writer Doofi
www.ihateyouif.blogspot.com

West Beverly Hate

You are in rush hour traffic and leave about 500 yards between you and the next car. You’re just asking for it, that empty space will fill up with all the people that think they’ll get to work that extra 5 seconds earlier. Speaking of, the people that change lanes constantly in stop and go, what are you doing? Where are you going? You’re making matter worse, should be run off the road and hated by me.

You think good acting has to involve some sort drug addict acting all cracked out. In addition to the crack, throw in something to do with a gun, a good crying scene and there you have every movie ever made that’s considered “good”. Someone really needs to come up with a new genre of movies, because they all suck. Try making me laugh, that’s a real talent and that is the only good acting that doesn’t make me hate you.

You are a girl that has an unhealthy obsession with sports. You know there are other ways to get close to guys instead of trying to be one. Yeah it’s cool when a girl can talk some sports, but when you start talking fantasy trades, that’s a little creepy, I mean most dudes do spend an inordinate amount of time with fictitious teams and leagues and what not, but we’ve all got our vices, I spend hours writing about how much I hate people when I should be doing work, but at least I’m not a woman that knows too much about sports, because then I’d have to hate myself, kind of like the way that I hate you.

You are on the show pimp my ride and say “this is going to change my life”. Yeah having a clown car will certainly change your life. I give that ride a day b4 an actual pimp steals all 7 TV monitors in there, and the sound system and the playstation. Who spends this much time in their car? Wouldn’t you rather watch TV in your house? And how would having some ridiculous car like that really change your life? Unless maybe you turned around and sold it to me at which point I’ll hate you.

You are a girl and complain that you can’t get sex. I don’t care what you look like, I don’t care how annoying you are, there is ALWAYS some guy willing to take you home. Let’s face it, you hold the power to determine if you get laid or not. That’s of course under the assumption that you operate like a male in that quality is not important at all. You know deep down, all you have to do is walk into a bar and there will be some guy, any guy willing to take you home, of course don’t expect a relationship or a phone call or anything, but if you wanted to, you can definitely get laid and then hated by me.

You are going out at night to a bar that is less than a mile away from your apartment, but you have to drive there. It’s not raining, it’s not cold, but this LA you wouldn’t be caught dead walking unless it was walking to your car. You get in your car to drive to the corner gas station to get smokes. You drive everywhere and anywhere and of course you complain that you drive there, you complain about the traffic, gas prices. I complain about one thing, and one thing only and this hating you.

You are have no brake lights (or maybe you even do) you slow down almost to a complete stop and then finally make a right hand turn, never putting your signal on. Yes, you are the only one on the road and no one else needs to know your next move. Signals? Why do they even put them on cars, they’re a pointless appendage, just like your penis, you’re too busy screwing around with your pimped out stereo on your low riding ’91 Honda Civic with tinted windows to notice me right behind you, hating.

So heres something new for you...

if you have seen doofis comments on my site then hopefully you have read his blog, I hate you if...
its excellent! he and i decided to do a little guest posting so you can check out my new post today at www.ihateyouif.blogspot.com
i will be back posting here tomorrow, and doofi will guest post here soon.
anyone that would like to try this, let me know.
enjoy.

Do you remember when you were young and nothing mattered?

well I guess "nothing" is the wrong word, the "nothing" of today was easily the "something" of yesterday. Remember when you would ride your bike for miles just to get to the dairy queen for a blizzard, and to feel independent for that brief moment when you paid for it by yourself and sat in the corner observing the world...Just like countless "grown ups" had before you and would after. When "going out" with someone just meant you would walk them to class or scam on the weekend to sneak out of your houses at the same time to meet somewhere, and maybe if you played your cards right, you might get to do some "necking" or cop a good feel. When everyone had dreams of being Pete Rose or Jim McMahon, and the thought never crossed your mind that you weren't even good enough to play sports in college, because at that point in time you were a bright shining star...and people cheered.
if only life were still this easy and simple, right?
fuck that, I like being a "grown up"...
I have made excuses to not drive my car more than a couple miles, and the thought of riding a bike that distance makes my balls ache. I also haven't been to dairy queen in years, when I can look in a place and immediately point out the health code violations, I prefer to not make that cuisine part of my diet. "grown ups" don't voluntarily pay for food poisoning.
I hated sneaking out of the house. I always got caught. My childhood was a little different. Scandalous...Yes! Sneaky...No! Maybe I was too stupid or my parents were too smart but either way is just splitting hairs...fuck copping a feel, I like to get laid.
my heroes were sports figures, yet I wanted to act. I wanted to entertain. Anyone can get beat up, but how many people can make you believe they were beat up when they haven't been touched? How many people can make you cry and laugh multiple times in a one or two hour period? How many people can hold your attention long enough to read this far?
and people cheered...

fact about myself: im back...unleashed. Ripped, stripped, fully equipped. Uncuffed, untouched and in a mood to make it rough. Unbridled, entitled and touching you like a pedophile.
I apologize for the rhyme, but it leads in to my big ups of the day.
big ups of the day: a slam poet who im sure you will all hear of soon, excerpt from the end of a great piece:
when you're steppin on my stage, you're steppin in my lair
im a bear and you're a bunny
and no
this shit ain't very funny.
like Tip said
"you better find somethin new money"

Contributed By guest writer Nikky Egland:
nikkyegland.blogspot.com

Target: The Nazi of Birth ControlSTRAIGHT RIGHTS UPDATE: There were two disturbing developments in the battle over straight rights last week. First, we know that Target fills its ads with dancing, multi-culti hipsters giving off a tolerant, urbanist vibe and runs hipster-heavy ad campaigns positioning Target as a slightly more expensive, more progressive alternative to Wal-Mart. Well, as John Aravosis revealed on Americablog.org last week, Target's politics are as red as their bulls-eye logo. The chain allows its pharmacists to refuse to dispense birth control and emergency contraception to female customers if the pharmacist objects on religious grounds. What's worse, the company claims that any of its employees have a right to discriminate against any of its customers provided the discrimination is motivated by an employee's religious beliefs. Read all about it at http://www.americablog.org/ and http://www.plannedparenthood.org/pp2/portal/Second, more troubling news from Tucson, Arizona, where a 20-year-old rape victim called dozens of pharmacies in town before she found one that stocked emergency contraception (EC). "When she finally did find a pharmacy with it, she said she was told the pharmacist on duty would not dispense it because of religious and moral objections," reported the Arizona Daily Star. Emergency contraception, the story continued, "prevents pregnancy by stopping ovulation, fertilization, or implantation of a fertilized egg. The sooner the emergency contraception is taken after intercourse, the more effective it is."Don't just sit there, heteros. Defend your rights! Don't shop at Target, and write 'em and tell them why you're going elsewhere. (Go to Target.com and click on "contact us," then "Target Corporation.") As for Fry's Pharmacy in Tucson, the shop that wouldn't dispense EC to a freakin' rape victim, the fundamentalist pharmacist claims its her "right" not to do her fucking job. Well, you have a right to free speech. Call Fry's at 520-323-2695 and ask them why the fuck a pharmacy that won't dispense EC keeps the drug in stock. Do they do it just to torment rape victims? ("Oh yeah, we've got EC—but you can't have any. Don't you know that Jesus wants you to bear your rapist's child?")
Rise up, straight people, and demand your rights!