Beware the cursed MEME

An unlucky/cursed MEME? Sign me up! I'm starting to think, short of MEME's I wouldn't even use LJ any more. Have a hard enough time with Twitter. Of course, this like most LJ posts is probably going to have some "Baaw" to it.

Ten things I'd like to say to people.

10. I'm sorry I'm a fuckup. Yes, it bothers me, I don't like it any more than you do.
9. Why are you -HERE-? I'm doing my damndest to like you, but all I'm seeing in you is a more agreeable form of Terry fucking Marshal.
8. Please go away and let me stagger through the learning curves on my own. I appreciate the help, but I'd rather you wait for me to ask, then just remind me how stupid I am, by holding my hand through the whole thing.
7. To the best of my knowledge, we had no fight, nor any kind of blowout. So why did I stop existing to you?
6. Y'know what? SCIENCE!
5. If you don't want to hire me, say it to my face. Don't string me along and give me hope, that just makes the eventual "no" hurt even more.
4. I've enough demons of my own, without adding yours to the list...
3. If you can say it behind my back. Why can't you say it to my face?
2. Please take your homophobia, and cram it up your ass. I shouldn't have to worry about you beating the shit out of me, because you can't take a joke.
1. Would you like to go out sometime?
(I'm cheating, some of these apply to more than one person. Hopefully that'll slide.)

Nine Things About Yourself:
1. I love gears. There just something about the sound and the motion of a series of gears in motion that soothes me.
2. I can be jealous about others talents. But I rarely sit down and try to learn them myself.
3. I really wish I could pick ONE thing to do in my life and commit to it. Achieve it, and move on.
4. I really wish I could do all the things I want to do in my life, instead of having to stick to one at a time. There's just too little time.
5. I like long showers. Once upon a time, for bad reasons. These days, I just like pretending the rain is warm, and I'm a nudist.
6. I take satisfaction in almost every project I see to completion, regardless how mundane.
7. I wish I still had the inventive drive I had before I wrote to DARPA as a child. Back then, I thought anything and everything could be built.
8. I'd really like a girlfriend, but I could care less about one night stands these days.
9. I miss that one day I got to spend in a real forge. The smell, the feel, the sound, it was a Christmas, birthday, and just about any other thing I've enjoyed, compressed into one package.

Eight Ways To Win My Heart:
1. Be smarter than me, without rubbing it in my face.
2. A gal who can sing akin to Ella Fitzgerald will make me melt. A friend of mine could, and she always made the late shifts better.
3. Let me know when I cross your mind; a text message, a postcard, whatever. (taken from Dae, but still applies)
4. Have passion for the things you do.
5. Teach me something new. It takes awhile for me to learn things, but I appreciate them all the more when I do.
6. Let me do simple things like hold a door open, or walk on the street side, without making a big fuss.
7. A massage is a sure way to win points. My body is convinced I do more than I actually do, so my muscles are always tensed.
8. A wry sense of humor tempered with a bit of common sense.

Seven things that cross your mind a lot:
1. Trimethylxanthine
2. The Marines.
3. The inner workings of my car that doesn't exist.
4. Things I'd like to have/have again.
5. People I wish I could see and speak to again.
6. How I could ever have let (X) happen. (taken from Dae, but I think we all have this one)
7. If I actually managed to get a girlfriend... What then?

Six Things You Wish You Never Did:
1. Giving up.
2. Listening to the nay sayers.
3. Putting my figurative foot in my mouth while talking to a gal I liked.
4. Handling things the way I did those many nights back. It actually haunts me, stupid as that sounds.
5. Letting myself get this far in the wrong direction.
6. Eating yellow snow. (Okay, it was a banana snow cone. But that thing was just WEIRD)

Five Turn Offs:
1. Hating something without trying to understand it first.
2. That sickly sweet false sincerity that some southern women do. More specifically, the voice they do it in.
3. Stupid generalizations. This has actually had me almost snap and slap a "friend" because they were being cruel, ignorant, and all around reprehensible at the time.
4. Superiority complexes.
5. Armpit hair. (hey, you did say turn offs)

Four Turn Ons:
1. She's got to have schmots. In all seriousness, a cute girl catches my eye, but if she's got no brain, I'll lose interest quickly.
2. An adventurous attitude.
3. Someone who is comfortable in her own skin.
4. Being direct. Subtlety is all but wasted on me.

Three Smileys That Describe Your Life:
1. @w@
2. o,O;
3. (=)_(=) I see what you did there...

Two Things You Want To Do Before You Die:
1. Build things that will live on long after I've died.
2. Achieve something.

One Confession:
1. I find it kind of sad that I sit and look around my room for five minutes, staring for something to confess, because some things I want to confess, I'd rather keep to myself.

Eat some cake!

Well, it's now the day after my Birthday, and I have to say it was pretty danged spiffy. What follows isn't really a recap of the day on whole, so much as the drinking that 21st's are notorious for. This goes on for a while, and the first half is predominantly whiny.

I had a celebratory drink when midnight rolled from the 6th to the 7th.
The drink was called a Four Horsemen.
The one that I had contained a shot of Jim, Jack, Johnny, And Jose each. I'd been tossing up -what- to drink for awhile because I'm normally a baileys drinker, but it seemed anti-climactic for my 21st.
So, when I asked for one (after having drink ideas thrown at me from the table) and the waitresses mouth opened and she paled a little bit, I knew I'd made the right choice.
When the shot originally came over, they'd made a single shot four horsemen (which would've been fine for me) but everyone else at the table frowned and informed the waitress I was to have four shots worth (a single shot of each one) as was the -proper- way to make them. She wandered off, and when she returned, the drink was exponentially more imposing.
With a watch check, we learned it was 12:05AM, and I was now 21 (state law wise, I wasn't actually 21 yet) and I was given hearty hurrahs and a few handshakes. I basked in the glow for a little bit, but I'd apparently dawdled too long because my brother piped in "You're 21, so why the f**k is there still booze in that cup?" (Because the drink scared the shite out of me?)
I told him I was still waiting on the hamburger I'd ordered. Especially given I'd had no food bar a cookie and a piece of soft jerky up to this point. I was guffawed, informed I could eat my burger afterwards, but I had to drink NOW.

Lifting the cup, I took a tentative sip, fully expecting my normal reaction to these drinks, blanch, make a face, and then choke it down. Surprisingly though, the fourth shot (or just all of them combined) countered the normally horrid taste, and it tasted smooth, almost pleasant.
Of course, my sipping technique was not well recieved, and I was told to take it like a shot and do -all- of it.
Given that I knew I wasn't going to gag now, and that I wasn't leaving this bar sober, I dutifully up ended the drink and downed the remainder followed by the baileys chaser they'd gotten me.
The cheering returned, and I was also informed by the waitress that after doing that, I could have whatever I liked. About this time, my throat seemed to realize what I'd just done to it, and it numbed over slightly.
Anyone who's met me knows how "wild" I am. And as such, people quickly grew bored and continued with the festivities as they should. People were singing karaoke, some of my friends included, and the bar was getting increasingly loud.
Being the twink I am though, I'd already promised myself I wasn't going to need anyone to carry me out of the bar/make too big an ass of myself. So I'd had many waters leading up to the drink, and I was having many waters following the drink. Even with these though, the Horsemen were making themselves known as the rooms acoustics began to change. What'd originally been just annoyingly loud karaoke, was sounding higher pitched now. My head felt that warmish tinge you get from a few drinks, and I was loosening up and pulling the stick out just a little.
Of course one of the main reasons I was being prudish is I had my back to a bar full of people. That is the easiest way to make me uncomfortable/guarded is have me looking at a wall, knowing people are behind me.
But as the night went on, karaoke was sung, chatter was made, and drinks were had.
Tony had apparently made it his mission to try get me shitfaced properly, or at the very least unwind. He was supplying me with many tasty beverages, and I was happily sampling the variety of concoctions the bartender was cooking up and sending my way. Normally though I was also following each drink with one of water.
A little factoid about me. I do NOT drink to get drunk. I drink to enjoy the drinks. I'm willing to experiment, try new flavors, but I've been fall over drunk twice, and that was plenty for me. Since then, I normally don't have more than a drink a month, if even that.
So when I -am- drinking. I'm doing my damndest to enjoy the drinks, not the effects. Tonys method didn't really allow for too much drink enjoying given that everything was to be taken like a shot. But I have to commend him, for the scant seconds my taste buds had to try things, nothing he'd brought back tasted bad.
But, what was an effort to get me to loosen up was having the opposite effect as I remembered those two occasions before, and how much I hated the way I'd acted. So the more I drank, the more water followed. (I swear I had to use the batthroom 37 times over the course of a few hours)
Likewise, as the audio in the room changed, I went from having trouble hearing people over the karaoke, to completely deaf except to the karaoke. Which was now being preformed by chipmunks (for some reason it honestly sounded like everyone had taken a lot of helium)
So there I was, trying to enjoy myself whilst I was mentally berating myself, the prude in me chugging water to counter the best efforts of my inner party guy and Tony.
Tony brought out the big guns at one point and had two nice gals come up and give me a birthday peck on my cheek. Which as much as I enjoyed it, I felt bad for them because I was stubbly and it probably felt porcupineish.
Well, these two gals took me either arm, and dragged me upright, informing me I was about to dance. I told them in turn that I don't/can't dance. Their reply was "We don't care" and I was pulled along to the floor.
There I am, deaf, drunk, dopey, and downright terrified as my attempt at dancing consists of me gyrating my butt as close to in sync with the music as I can muster. The ever present prude in my head screaming bloody murder and demanding I get back to my seat.
As one would expect, the little fucker won once again, and when the song ended I shuffled back to my stool, tail between my legs.
By the time Tony asked me to go up on stage and do Karaoke with him, the prude had won, and the party guy in me had given up trying. I honestly think if I -hadn't- been drinking, I would've gone up there and sang like the tone deaf idiot I am, but I was so hung up on not making an ass out of myself. I made a -bigger- ass out of myself, leaving Tony alone on the stage as the crowd (which had tried chanting to encorage me) realized that I had no intention of getting up there. The DJ (a friend of Tony's) caught this too, and was nice enough to dive in to help Tony sing. But I convinced myself I'd have had a worse time if I'd gotten up there, and satisfied myself in the fact that I was a dick, but I had told Tony from square one, I'd never get on that stage that night. Even when the party guy in me kept suggesting songs Like "Buisness Time" "Walking in Memphis" and "Second Hand Faith" Songs that I not only knew, but could've sung well.

The summary of that night? I don't do well whilst drinking amongst strangers, with my back to the room, listening to the prude in me rather than shutting the fecker up and going with the party guy I normally listen to most often when sleep deprived. He might get me to do stupid stuff sometimes. But normally someone's going to be laughing (at or with, he doesn't care) and having fun when he's got the reins.

When we got back to the hotel, I checked my twitter posts, sobriety returning slowly and it dawning on me what a douche I'd been by trying desperately to not be one. I watched a movie, read some comics and zonked for the night. (around 3AM)

---- And now onto the less whiny drinking! ----

The "next" day at 8AM I woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed in spite of the nine different types of alcohol that'd been glugged down the night before. As is an odd bit in my genetics, I've never had a hangover (of course I rarely drink to a degree that'd warrant one) instead I wake up feeling nice'n refreshed. Well, excluding a hellacious case of cottonmouth.
Killed an hour or so catching up on Wapsi Square and reading some QC too. After awhile I nabbed a shower and a shave and headed out with everyone to IHOP where I proceeded to drink two glasses of OJ in about the time it'd probably taken the server to pour them...

The day carried on until the big moment came around and we headed to the Pirates house. This was much more to my liking, I was among friends with the odd stranger aroung, but the place was quiet (atmospheric) and the overall ambiance set me at ease. The Bartender also had a good bit of character to him, glaring at Dan Jess and I as we ordered a Dr. Pepper and two waters. He had a bit of a wicked glint in his eye when Dan informed him that I would be getting snockered on the skull crusher later for my 21st.
We were seated, made our orders, and the food arrived, when my skull crusher plopped onto the table, I admired the sculpted skull with the dagger handle, the drink inside smelled delightfully fruity with a hint of bite. The taste not only backed it up, but encouraged continual sipping. This time I wasn't too concerned about water, I had the one glass that I occasionally took a pull from, but for the most, I just enjoyed my skull crusher. As I heard the telltale slurp that told me I'd hit bottom, I arched and eyebrow and inspected the cup.
For something that had a degree of notoriety to it, this pleasing little beverage had left me with just a hint of a fuzzy feeling. Given that I'd just earned my first drinking mug, I decided to try the Artillery punch next. An equally talked about drink, once again with its own decanter that you got to leave with if you had it.
When the artillery punch arrived, I was given a few raised eyebrows from the group, apparently the skull crusher was supposed to have been doing its thing by now. (which it was, but hardly anything worth note)
Twirling the straw amongst the cherries inside the artillery punch, I took a sip with the flavor of the skull crusher on my mind. This one was almost sickly sweet, the champagne turning it from a sweet drink into a 7Up with hidden taste that assured me there was actually alcohol. Much like the skull crusher, I just enjoyed the taste without really thinking too much about it. And during one of my sips I was once again greeted with the slurp of an empty glass.
By this point, my head was legitimately warm, cheeks flushed, and my brain was doing overtime assessing what was compromised and how to act accordingly. What that meant is that I was jolly, red cheeked, but still mobile and comfortable, with just a hint of deviousness rising to the surface during conversation.
As I made one of my bathroom trips (the two waters prior to our table seating were doing overtime it seems) I had a flair of deviousness and wandered once more to the bar. Dan apparently following behind me. After waiting a bit, I got the bartenders attention and requested another skull crusher, making note to compliment both drinks but give higher praise to the skull crusher. (deservedly so in my book)
Apparently (unknown to me) I'd accidentally interrupted the bartender counting his till. And incurred his "wrath" in the form of a more potent skull crusher.
Making my way back to the table, unawares of this, I was rather pleased with myself, and fully intent on earning my third mug. When asked where I'd been, I was completely honest about requesting my skull crusher. this drew a few eyebrow twitches that make me even more pleased with myself, the fact that I was still standing, manuvering the building/patrons with ease, and intent on a third drink surprising folks. When Dan and the Bartender came back in, I was informed of the upgraded nature of my drink, and the skull crusher was passed around, folks taking sips or sniffs as they pleased, the occasional wide eyed stare at the cup filling me with excitement at what was sounding like a daunting task if group concensus was to be believed. When it finally came back to me, I took an eager sip and savored the explosion of delicious now inhabiting my mouth. Whatever he'd upped it with, made it head and shoulders above its predecessor.
By this point, our meals had been finished, and the majority of our group, being smokers, wandered outside. so Dan (suffering a fit of giggles) Jess and I all remained inside. I was enjoying my skull crusher whilst Jess had some of her dinner and Dan just smirked at me and giggled constantly.
Once more the slurp of an empty cup came, and Dans giggling ceased, replaced with an "are you serious?" as I looked sadly at my cup, a hint of color claiming to be drink avoiding the pull of my straw.
Jess took the skullcrusher from me a moment to inspect my handiwork, an confirmed that there was a smidge left. The water I'd been neglecting this time around was once more put to use as I tipped the 1/4 left into my skullcrusher and mixed it with the remnants, gleefully draining the liquid once more then proudly handing the cup back for another inspection. A nod from Jess that I'd cleaned it proper and Dan was back to laughing.
When time came for us to leave, doggy bags in hand, I was given a field sobriety test for shits and giggles given that I'd been navigating the building, patrons and staff, with minimal difficulty during trips to the bathroom.
Following his key, I could -feel- my neck muscles as my head made small adjustments to follow his key, but didn't really think to stop them (apparently a no-no) It was passable, but Dan claimed the head twitch was a giveaway I'd had a few.
With arms out, and palms up. I was told to touch the tip of my nose with my index finger. Everyone bust up when I asked which that was. A legitimate question to me (even when sober) Because I've always said/heard it called the forefinger.
My new found knowledge of finger names behind me. I proceeded to touch it to my nose as instructed. Then did so again with the other hand.
This of course got me told off. I figured he's wanted the one hand, so I should do the other as well. I've learned since that with a field sobriety test, you make -no- assumptions. Just do what the cop says.
The final verdict was that I failed the tests, but given what I'd had. I apparently should have failed them far more spectacularly than I did. I think the majority of point docking came from me making assumptions about what I should do and an unjust docking for not knowing the index finger was the forefinger. (I thought it was the middle finger, which skewed results.)

All in all though, I believe I gave my 21st a proper sendoff. Of course, I was still standing/walking fine at the end, which I'm told means I did it wrong.

You can take my pork, but you'll never take... My POULTRY!

Blargh. What is it about the human body that allows it to randomly pick something it will no longer digest properly, without leaving you a memo?
I used to love meat. Still do actually...
But it seems as time goes on, the number of different meats I can eat without triggering my "allergy" gets smaller on a monthly basis.
It started off with pork, which was fair enough, I rarely ate it anywho.
It then moved onto low grade beef, (cheap hamburgers, that sorta stuff) upgrading itself to any beef as time went on.
Today, it's chicken. I've lost one of my meaty mainstays today which for the longest time was my "safe" meat.
The allergy has only -one- perk to it. I can't keep the meat in question inside of me. Thankfully it doesn't take the same route out as it did in. Instead though, it decides to generate a socially awkward amount of gas (which leaves me bright red at times) and then expel itself with a force and speed normally reserved for buckshot leaving a shotgun.
Given that I'm not working at the moment, thankfully when I need a bathroom, I get one. But when I start working again. Or god forbid should I have to eat it at Bootcamp, I do believe this will lead to trauma.
I'm fighting becoming a veg only kinda person tooth and nail. But I also worry sometimes that I might be making my allergy worse by inflicting some of my favorite foods on my system.
Of course, even as I type this, I'm munching on a chicken wrap. (the same one responsible for this discovery) I also have little doubt I'll be paying for it later. But until the day I accidentally break my back or something similar from one of these bouts, I refuse to take meat off the menu.


Mjollnir is making a recovering from his dusty hiatus to act as a fourth computer for a L4D Lan match. I've got all of the computers beefy enough to run it running it. Now it's just a matter of making sure they all talk to each other. Then I might do some scouring for mic's so that -we- can talk to each other too.
My biggest concern is actually the monitor being used on Mjollnir. The poor thing is on it's last leg and needs a half hour to stop flickering before it can be used reliably. Sometimes it'll get a bug it it's ear and fade to white instead. Should I get it behaving, I'll just put Mjollnir into sleep mode so that I can keep it good to go.
Three Stephensons and one Kelly vs the Zombie hordes. Heaven help us all.
  • Current Music
    A very loud CD drive.

Video update

For those that wanted to see/hear Matthew Ebels AKA Hali's performance, I've uploaded my videos to Youtube now.
Apoligies in advance for the quality of the footage, but on the plus side. Think of it kinda like a game demo. You get a little taste of what the real deal is like. It's just not as good as what you're after. Which gives you incentive to go out and buy the whole package.
Where can you get the full deal? Why of course! G'wan, you know you want to. Shoot, I need to buy some new ones too, I loaned them to a friend and they "disappeared".

FWA Post Con Ramble

Well, a few days post FWA, I've gathered a few of my thoughts a bit, so here ya go.

For starters, FWA was, as expected, a blast. I met new people, found some old ones, and generally had a good time. I even de-geeked a bit and allowed myself a few drinks. Before bed o-course, and nowhere near enough to get me shlickered. (which is just fine in my book)

A few things in the con stick out more then most, for starters, my roomates all turned out to be great folks, and I hopefully didn't annoy them too much with my antics.

Hali is still awesome as always, and was even kind enough to help me (and others) to get water to the suiters during the dead dog dance. I'll be uploading some of his show to Youtube (with his permission) once I finish editing the video.
Turns out my phone records in 3gp which means I need to find a good freeware converter that doesn't watercolor before I can even do sound editing.
Should you be the impatient type. Go ahead and head on over to and listen to some of his stuff. If you like whatcha hear, I can assure you the CD's are worth getting too. (and coming from a cheapskate like me, I hope that has some cache)

Grain alcohol is surprisingly tasty, but I apparently should've had more sense than to try it. I shant have any more.
Banana Shnapps is also tasty. (when mixed with a soda) I will be having more.

2gryphon was funny as always. He also has an oddly effective charisma.
I spent most of the one dance skulking about trying to work up the guts to dance. (being in fursuit still didn't help)
When he said to do so though, a group of us did so without question. The end result was me laughing my ass off, and losing one of the electronic glow-sticks I'd gotten near the start of the con. (got it back though, and I plan on using it inside my radio/jukebox project.)

Fuzibuni was great, and actually added the sculpture I made for her to her fursuit. Thankfully it held together for the con. While I wasn't too worried about it breaking, I still have plans to make more durable sculptures. The current idea is to have a mold technique with something like hotglue around metal for the finished piece. That way they can be sat on, beat up, and so on without breaking. Just need to work the kinks out.

Vertical push ups, while fun, should not be done when you've had a few drinks. What I mistook for rugburn, was in fact my glasses cutting a 1/3rd of an inch into my face. Thankfully Manytails had pliers and my glasses were bent back into their proper shape.

To the mystery furry that fixed my car. -Please- let me know who you are if you see this. I owe you a drink next time I see you. (The doors are working perfectly now)

Lizardbeth was very nice in spite of the fact the sculpture I made her for her birthday unintentionally gained about 30 pounds. If it breaks on you, lemme know though so that I can replace it with a better one.
On a similar note. Do -not- use a widescreen monitor with "fit to screen" if your reference image isn't wide to start with.

Dragonwolf2k talked with me about Commissioning a suit. The successor head to the V3.1 is in the planning stage, depending on how it looks when I'm done, I might just take her up on the offer. A little PR (especially from someone that'll put a suit to good use) is always welcome. I really need to get the hang of converting measurements to templates though.
Either that or just start requesting DCD's so that I can fit the suit to the dummy.

Sometimes doing staff like things can be very rewarding. When the headless lounge ran out of water, I was press ganged into helping. After we had a water chain started, I went downstairs, sweet talked a bit and organized three more water jugs to be sent up for the machine. I waited around to make sure it was done properly.
This worked out though, because the hotel staff had looked in the wrong room.
I took them to the right one and waited again till I saw the bottles arrive, and then went about telling the other suiters that the water tank was up and running again. In hindsight, the last bit was probably overkill, but seemed like a good idea at the time.
Also, doing volunteer things can be rewarding too. I didn't do a lot this con, but the few times I did, I enjoyed myself. Didn't even bother with sign offs on my sheet.

On a similar note, it's a nice sensation when you're carrying about 50-100 pounds of camera equipment with only a little strain, and when you hand it off to another person, they visibly buckle under the weight. While I didn't enjoy his plight, it's nice to know that my exercises are actually paying off. (My dang gut still won't leave though)

On a closing note. A -big- thankyou to the sound crew for letting me borrow an extension cord for my phone.
This led to some hilarity involving running up some stairs, catching an elevator, blasting past some furries, grabbing my phone charger and then running back to the main ballroom to charge my phone, all so I could record hali and 2. Turns out though it was a good thing I did though, my phone developed -just- enough charge to turn back on just a few minutes before Hali started his show. If I hadn't run like an idiot. I wouldn't have made it in time. As it was, even with the charger my phone was sucking a lot of power during the shows. It would've died three times over (on a full charge) if not for y'all loaning me the cord. Thankyou again for that.
  • Current Mood
    chipper chipper

Don't ask, don't tell. Otherwise we'll beat ya.

Y'know. There are days when I can remember being a homophobe. Days when I look back on what I was, and can only chuckle at the ignorance and misconceptions I had.
Then there are days where I look at other people who still are homophobic, and I'm -baffled- by the sheer levels that they will descend to to "prove their point" or otherwise justify their hate mongering.
To explain a bit. I was reading this article today as is my want for an evening.
After I finished, I decided to read some of the comments.

Now, back when I was "straight" I was extremely homophobic because I refused to accept what I was. I had been shown gay people through a very negative light without really taking the time to view them with my own eyes. As such I had plenty of misconceptions. Most of which involved mannerism and voice. (Not to be too blunt, but you know what I mean if I say someone is acting gay)
Then, my sister took me to a furry convention. Another culture that I was predisposed to be unfavorable towards. (Ironic, given that I was already a furry without my knowledge.)
At this convention I saw things that shocked me, some things that disturbed me. But also things that -enlightened- me.
The simplest of them being this. Gay people are -people-.
By nature, I believe people generalize. We lump folks into groups and oftentimes are confused when we see deviation from what we believe the group should be.
This is why I'm rapidly developing an intolerance for my own bigotry and misconceptions to the point I mentally smack myself if I have a thought along the lines of "Well so and so is a such and such so they must be like this." (and yes, I still generalize often. But now I'm able and willing to perceive the deviations.)
There are most certainly groups of people that act a certain way, but I've never really encountered a group where everyone was the same. Similar certainly, but there are plenty of differences and nuances that make us who we are.
To segue back a bit. What I'm getting at is that not all gay people speak with a lisp and act overtly effeminate. In fact some of the people I'd initially tried to hang around at my first con, surprised me when I learned of their preferences. Some of which were military one of which was actually a Marine.
This caught me off guard enough that it thankfully broke my stained glass perception about homosexuality. (as well as Furries)

To be honest, I am nothing if not sincere in my wish that humanity as a whole, would stop trying to divide itself, and judge itself based upon its differences, and instead that we would focus on what we have in common. Even if it has to go back to the simplest of facts that we're all people.
People like to argue the differences of Race, Religion, Nationality, but what I've taken note of and am delighting in seeing, (and bear with me on this) is mixed breeding.
Those people that judge a person based on these things... What about all those children from a mixed family? A black parent and a white one? An Asian one and an American? A Catholic and a Wiccan?
Oh, I know full well that a lot of you refuse to be tolerant. I've seen it and heard it first hand. (I even used to have to grin and bear it in Cafe)
But I do so look forward to the day when the lines of black and white are so blurred that all that's really left is grey. When people will learn tolerance not because it's the right attitude to have, but because they are -surrounded- by tolerant people, born in mixed families that have learned to love each other in spite of differences. Who try to understand instead of judge, work together instead of breaking themselves into groups.

It's disheartening to look at the world today and know full well that I'll never see that in my lifetime.
Humanity, as we are now, is too full of the other people. The people that sit on their high horses and preach their hate to others. The people that make gays out to be a blight against god (or worse still) a mental illness in need of curing.
It's too full of people who will take one look at a person, and judge them based solely on appearance, without having even spoken a word.
Too full of people that will persecute differences to the point a person has to live in fear that their secret(s) will be exposed, when they shouldn't have to hide what they are in the first place.
Really, we're just too full of people...

Heh, I'm sorry for ranting as usual, but That's often about all you'll get from me on Livejournal. That, and I've been watching Boston Legal lately, and listening to Alan does give me an urge to do a bit of waffling of my own.
As a last little note from what started as a short post. This was my own effort into sharing a view to others. No doubt it will be lost in the pile of comments, the majority of which so far lean well in the direction of the homophobes. I'm certain I could have been more diplomatic, but at the time I was a little incensed from some of the more... Colorful comments.

"Posted By: Leeran @ 01/08/2009 2:32:08 PM

To point out the obvious to those who are homophobic about showering with gays...
Well guess what? You already have/are. Probably have since boot. That's the point of don't ask don't tell. They're -in- the military already. Heck some might be friends of yours. Really, being gay doesn't change the person you know, it just changes how you see them.
And what if you encounter someone *gasp* openly gay? Big whoop. ten to one, they won't be attracted to some homophobe ranting on about the "dirty queers". That's like assuming a woman will be attracted to someone who openly proclaims he'll hate them for no justifiable reason other than their own backwards logic.
In short. The gays are already in the military, we're just trying to give them to option to be honest about who they are.
I doubt many will be though when they're presented with such a negative attitude about their preferences."

(no subject)

Dear Santa...

Dear Santa,

This year I've been busy!

In August I caught a purse-snatcher who stole steelclaw_fox's purse (30 points). In January I helped tozetre see the light (8 points). Last week I gave charon13 a kidney (1000 points). In October I put gum in tzup's hair (-12 points). Last Friday I helped stonehenge3 across the street (6 points).

Overall, I've been nice (1032 points). For Christmas I deserve a nymphomaniac! (Or best offer)


Write your letter to Santa! Enter your LJ username:


I'm currently mad enough to headbutt a walrus, so I'm going to be venting just a wee bit.

What the fuck is with these godforsaken "good ol boys" that the south has a fucking plethora of?!
I can't sneeze without hitting one, and now I find out that our neighbor, whom I'd been deliberatly avoiding, is one too.

This revelation was made while I was on the lawnmower, using the leaf catcher attachment to tidy up the yard.
Out of the corner of my eye I notice the dogs are going balistic, circling something, with teeth bared.
This something, turned out to be my neighbor, brandishing his rake like a damn scythe, and trying to keep them away from him.
This had me understandably curious (and concerned for both parties) so I hop off the lawnmower, pull out my headphones, and call the dogs off.
Cassy, given her past experiences with some brats in Savanah, is less than keen to listen to me and continues to growl at him.
Our neighbor makes sure he has my attention, and then states.
"If your dogs ever attack me, or my dog, again. I'll kill them."
The "again" catches me by surprise, but I try to explain to him that they don't attack. Yes, they're guard dogs, but they -bark-.
Neighbor in turn swears that they've already attacked him twice today, and re-iterates his intent to shoot them.
Hearing the referance of guns and my dogs in the same sentence for a second time, gets me about as riled as Cassy
Cassy at this point has been called off for the fifth time and is still ignoring me. understandable because this fuckwit is still jabbing her direction with his rake. Yeeeeeeah, that'll calm her down real quick!
When he prepared to swing his rake, a full metal number with no plastic, I said quite bluntly.
"If you attack -my- dog, on -my- property, we're going to have more than words right damn quick."
In hindsight, I suck at diplomacy, but it stopped the swing at least.
Unfourtunatly, Cassy made this all the worse because as he turned to storm off back to his house, I'll be damned if she doesn't make a lunge at his tendon right in front of me!


This of course prompted another "I'm gonna shoot em both, you best better pen em up" from him, and due to my frustration I snapped back and told him to stay on his fucking property and leave my dogs alone.

I'm honestly trying to use LJ as a theraputic vent, and it's not really working but I'll keep at it a little longer.

In his defense. I can understand where he's coming from, If a dog attacks me, I defend myself. But here's the thing...

I don't go waving a fucking rake at them and provoking them to attack me!
These dogs, while a good judge of character, do -not- attack unless provoked.
Now they'll bark to high heaven, and I admit, it's intimidating to see them with teeth bared and snarling. I've had to get in the middle of that before to break up a fight so I know.
But they do nothing more than that, unless you give them a reason too.
I don't care what backwater town this guy came from. swinging a rake at a dog is a pretty solid reason for it to attack you.

Grah... How far will I have to move, until the neighbors and fuckwits with guns are nothing but a bad memory?

Today, Atlas starts lifting.

Well folks, Atlas (AKA my freakishly large computer) is now running Windows.

It's currently devouring the remains of Mjollnir as I type, the External hard drive serving as it's gaping maw, it's four SATA drives acting as its stomachs.
I gave its video card a test drive running Project Omega (A reskin of a game I did) which used to give Mjollnir issues at higher end settings.
Everything was maxed out (Including resolution) and Atlas barely cared. I have high hopes that this thing'll run Fallout 3 the way it's meant to be run.

Likewise, I'm hoping that with the four SATA drives, I'll be able to organise things a bit better, having a drive for games, a drive for work/designing stuff, and a core file only C Drive.

I am a happy nerd today.
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