30 September 2012

Honey Boo Boo Secret Origin

(Just add lightning!)

"Have of them are true."

"Half of them are true."

Doctor Who S07E05

This feels like a "this means something; this is important" moment, ala CE3K...

28 September 2012


"I don't want to kill the president, nor do I think it's good to call people faggots or niggers. But to wholesale block, censor or charge a person with terrorism or hate crime for using the words IN *ANY* CONTEXT is COMPLETELY against the tenets that led us to this land and to kill the indigenous peoples. Yeah, thanks a lot for censoring me, facebook, and whomever ratted on me for using the word "nigger" because you are ignorant of social commentary and metaphor. It's almost like we shouldn't have come here and murdered people and stole their land so we could be free."

Posted in case fb censors my reaction to being censored. I'd post the comment that was deleted, but it got deleted. I equated horses that are abused for show to "niggers" (yes, in quotes like that) because they seemed abused like slaves. I don't recall the wording, but that was the gist. I'm guessing Mark Zuckerbook would like to go back in time and censor John Lennon's "Woman is the Nigger of the World" now, too. Yes, I've been edited and deleted and censored before, but when they act like I'm committing Hate Crimes, they can fuck right off. Fuck you facebook. I've never sooo wanted to use offensive language as I do now. Suddenly, I am a nigger. And fuck you facebook. You're the stupid cunt holding the whip. 

16 September 2012

A very short story for a friend

Me? Me!
by meat™

The wind was ripping her hair about, hurting her forehead as she edged off the building. Why does it have to be raining? Nate better be right about this, she thought, diving off. The fiction cords licked her ankles, and chewed into the leather of her high-tops, solid. Click, that annoying thing that asked to be called Click, monitored her descent and gauged the deceleration. Floor 23. Mimi tinked the diamond-cutter off her belt and onto the window and went to work breaching.
She loved that sound. And the window was open for her. A slink and a wink and she was in.

The bar, first. A scotch never hurt a woman. Then the desk to give up its ghost. She found her info in the time it took to kill one drink, so she loitered to kill another. Style must be upheld, even if standards and security are not. Her parcel packed, she thought.

Then, for good measure, one more drink, making sure the lipstick left a perfect ring on the rim.

Out the window.

Falling faster than ever.

Flit! SHOOM! The base-shoot catches the air perfectly, like the larger model parachutes, but not as powerful. Her ass hits perfectly square on top of the Bentley, blowing the windows out and cushioning her fall. Roll off, brush the glass and blood off her face and she says, “Got it.” She opens up the recovered parcel and reads it. It was a particularly funny Calvin & Hobbes cartoon. The one where Calvin started off thinking he wished everyone was dead, but ended up thinking he wished EVERYONE ELSE was dead. He and Hobbes were just fine. 

The night had not opened its secrets, yet she felt she understood the funny pages on a new level.

the end

10 September 2012