Friday, 26th January 2001
01.26.01 to 01.15.01 (Really Old Rants!)
I just bought a skirt. This is a big deal.
I have decided to give voice to my sexuality. This is a big deal.
I noticed I have a slammin’ body. This is not a big deal.
This moment is authored by the pen of an unimaginative torturer. This is, and is not, a big deal.
I have decided to make an image addition. This is not a big deal.
This is a classic story. This is not a big deal.
I noticed the evolution in me. This is a big deal.
That doesn’t work for me anymore and so I am changing it. This is a big deal.
And you, you can go fuck yourself then. This, most definitely, is not a big deal.
Moral of the story - Never, ever, never listen to your friends opinions.
IAmAPersonalProphet, IReallyDon’tKnowWhy PM
Interesting how, as a Woman, one can become passionate and one is perceived as angry and aggressive.
(And yes, there is an anger in my passion. An anger that comes from dreams denied and nightmares lived.)
You speak of your future first borne and how, should she be Woman-child, you would ensure a boy would soon follow.
I am that Woman-child; I disappoint you..?
I need protection, you say, and as a stagnant Neanderthal you insist man be protector. If not you, boy-child.
Your fear, borne out of a knowledge of self, insists that Woman-child is protected.
How ironic that you wish to protect her from you…
Think -
In propagating the myth of my powerlessness, you increase my risk.
By denying me a cultural power, you encourage the weak to prey.
Or should that be pray? Pray I never remember all it is that I am…
But I do remember and I am not powerless. My belly brims with circles containing alphabets forgotten and not yet realised.
Man blaming? Perhaps, but not so. We are here because we let it be so.
Solution? Teach me! Teach me your wares, your worries, your desires and devices.
Teach me all that you know about yourself so I can protect myself.
Teach me, and in your honesty allow me to finally trust you. Believe you. In you.
Teach me and I will not despair of you. Cry for you. Be lost to you.
Teach me so that I have the option to choose.
To choose me, her or you…
ThatIsAll, HomeMadeSmoothiesAreGood PM
I now know what it is that runs along my roof. It is not wild mustangs as Mostreen thinks, it is, in fact, a small child that was found by wild animals when it was just a wee baby. I think the childs parents tossed the child down an alley when it was about 3 months old as they had a premonition that the child would be really fucking irritating. Then some kindly rodent adopted the child and taught it all it knows. Hence the loud hissing noises and incredibly loud journeys from one end of my roof to the other…
Does anyone know why the bloody hell I keep waking up at 7am every morning..? If you do, please email me and explain.
VirginiaWoolfIsTheCuntyGreatest, IAmAWomanOfMyOwn PM
Apologies for the absence. I was stuck in a log cabin on the side of a mountain in the Poconos for the weekend with a fucking cop. Well, there were 4 other people too. However, cops are fucking cops and I don’t care whose fucking friends they are, they are complete and utter, total arseholes. I have come to the conclusion that people decide to become cops out of a desire to tame people.
Dickhead Cop Mannie: “Why don’t you like cops?”
Me: “Because I do not believe in hegemony and the heirarchies of oppression. By being a cop, you are consciously enforcing the levels of oppression that destroy many peoples lives. I do not like you, because directly and indirectly you enforce the will of some rich, aged old white man and his prejudices.”
Dumb Dick Head Cop Mannie: “Huh..? See, you haven’t got any reason at all…”
Okay fuck face…
Aside from that dumb fuck, I had a good weekend. I went sking, buggered up my thumb and had an exhilerating time freezing my proverbial bollix off.
Today is my 18th day of not smoking a cigarette and I am very bloody proud of myself.
IWishIWasn’tSoShyAtTimes, IWishYouCouldReadMyMindSometimes PM
Well, I did it, like I said I would, I did. I ate a menstrual clot. Firstly, can I just say how bloody difficult it is to get one of these into ones hand. I kept waiting until I needed a piss and then after pissing would attept to appropriate one before it made it’s jaunty stroll down into the depths of the sewers. However, I kept getting drops of piss on me and I really wasn’t wanting to eat pee pee. Anyway, I finally got one piss free and I ate it.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but the most overriding sensation I got from it was how round it tasted. When I first put it on my tongue it was strange as it was slimey and slick. Then it tasted like ordinary blood and then I detected a richness, but the final, lingering taste was that of roundness. I could taste curves and gentleness and waves and circles. Not ordinary taste sensations I know, but then, one doesn’t ordinarily taste magic…
CranialSacrumTherapyLater, HurryUpSao PM
I have been rereading Audre Lorde’s ‘Sister Outsider’. I had forgotton exactly how cuntastic it is! I highly recommend everyone getting themself a copy and edjamacating their brizilybrizain. I got quote happy from the book, as you can see here.
I am Miss Chipper As Fuck right about now as I have gone part-time at work. I was really starting to hate my life as it had become my job. However, luckily for me, boss mannie Geeza is a great, big, fat, juicy cunt and he has let me go part-time. This of course means that I will be financially brizoke, but I am so fucking happy that I don’t care. Now I have time to do me things and of this I am very grateful.
My fantastic ‘I Love My Cunt’ tee arrived today from khunt dot net. I can’t wait to wear it and to see if anything interesting happens because of it.
About 6 months ago, I lent Rich Medina my Da Lata CD, Songs from the Tin, of course the bugger never gave it back. So I finally got my arse into gear and bought myself a copy. I had forgotton how absolutely brilliant this project is. If you don’t know what it is, the best way I can describe it is Brazillian, soothing, uplifting, danceable, beautiful, poignant and expressive. In other words it’s cuntabulously cuntastic and I highly recommend you purchasing a copy.
Well, that’s the end of this particular Customer Service Announcement from the Great Cunticus…
OrangeWouldBeIt’sColour, HisIsADeepBlue PM
Mostreen would like to officially announce to the world that she Loves Johnny Knoxville from Jackass. She believes that herself and “that crazy white boy would work well together.” They are “from the same tribe and share the same world view.” Johnny, she wants you and she is a virile stallion I tell ya. She also wants you to know she is Angelic. You wants to come a running to filthydelphia…
The Smashalistically Cuntabulous Phil sent me this email which I believe he got from BAN about food additives. It scared the kerfuck out of me and I highly advise you to read it. One warning, it’s very, very, very long, but please don’t let this put you off. Do it in a 3 part mini series or something…
In reading the article I was reminded how in engerland, there is a tick / check mark on foods suitable for vegetarians. (I care about things like this because I am not a sadistic murderer.) Here, there is nothing like that and in reading that article I was struck by the fact that unless I am eating entirely natural foods, I have absolutely no idea of what I am eating. Therefore I can not be sure that my food stuffs are vegetarian. In other words, judging by my amerikkkan eating habits, I have probably eaten some animal derivitive or other in the past two years. That makes me really sad and so I have decided to treat my body better and not eat any more of that Morningstar crap or other processed foods. This also means that I may starve to death because it’s highly difficult to avoid processed foods. If I fail to update any more, it may well be because my fingers have fallen off…
MyShoesAreVegan, GladIWorkLess PM
I have really missed being an active, vocal feminist. It’s not that I haven’t been active and vocal in regards to my feminism, I live it, it’s impossible for me not to be my feminism unless I stop being me. What I mean is that I feel my learnings, musings, ruminations, speakings and writings have been centered less on my anti-patriarchal beliefs and more so on my anti-racism beliefs.
I know why. Firstly, since moving to Amerikkka I have been disgusted by the degrees and depths of abhorrance and fear that is felt by white people towards people of colour. Secondly because I knew of no-one in my immediate circle who felt like me, or was willing and able to carry a conversation about Women and Who We Are. I have been assailed and assaulted by violently misogynistic people who I loved dearly. Oxymoronic friendships have silenced me in an argumentative sense. However, I have made a decision to move on and now I am released…
I have missed this feeling.
Tremendously.
Well, I’m back. I thank the Great Cunticus for bringing me the information and confirmations she has blessed me with of late. I suddenly feel like I have a back up battalion, (funny, they all look like me!), and I feel a gazillion times happier to be re-focusing on healing my Womanself and discovering more ways of being.
This is a beautiful and bountiful moment in my life. I am that kind of happy where your solar plexus exudes a light and warmth that invites you to breathe your own spirit over and over until you start to cry…
Thank you.
RestInPeaceMrKing, ILoveYou PM
I have decided to eat a menstrual clot. I have always been facinated by them and I like they way it feels to lay a nice, big, juicey fat one. I feel this is the only natural and logical progression from where I am right now. I am due on soon, so I promise to let you know what it tastes like. I am thinking probably just like blood from elsewhere in your body, but we shall see.
I am very excited about my new I Love My Cunt t-shirt. It should arrive soon! I know this is going to give everyone even more of a reason to think I am a dyke. Not that I give a flying fuck. People always make assumptions about peoples sexuality, (amongst every other thing). If I had hair and wasn’t the person I am, people would assume I was straight. Assumptions, assumptions, assumptions… Anyway, I would be gay if it wasn’t for this small matter of my heterosexuality…
N gave me a book to let me know why it is that I am still single. It appears that apart from the fact that mannies are intimidated by the fact that I am smarter, stronger and funnier than them, they also don’t like me because:
The Women in them hate the man in me.
They get sober.
I laugh when I see their penis’.
They are turned off by the fact that construction workers don’t whistle at me when I walk by.
I fart… Often.
I have a mouth like a truck driver.
I threw up in their car.
So simple and so obviously true… There is a new Highly Important Philosophy Question for you to answer and the results are in from the last moment. Thank you very much and good morning!
9thDayClean, ThereIsNothingLikeRyvitaAndButter AM
Thursday, 18th January 2001
Tequila-ed out
How I feel is completely Jack Boogi and Liam’s fault. Admittedly they had the help of several bartenders and my mouth, but I blame everything on them. My father just IMed me and said he was going to eat a kipper, stand on a punch bowl, fart like a concord and then ignite the fart so he could get a free ride to Philly. He did not make matters any easier. Apparently I head butted Mostreen’s crotch when I came in last night. Allegedly I did this several times. I have absolutely no recollection of this, all apologies are extended. One of our cats, Naima, can knock on the front door like a human. Either that or she has got a human buddy she has failed to mention to us. Yep well, remember folks, excess alcohol can lead to excessive behaviour. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.
GurgleFartGurgleBurp, MaryThatTeaIsHot! PM