Department of Defense

Department Of Defense

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Drinking at the Fountain of Satan

I enjoy coffee. Reeeeeaaaaaalllly. Love it. Every form of it. I am enjoying the Lite Lattes at Dunkin's. I like a cup brewed at home. I enjoy small and fun cafes with wacky decor and interesting reading materials. If only the Diesel Café was here, or I was there, I would have made it my home.

But my greatest sin is my love of the mighty Starbucks. Oh, if it were a golden idol, the bruised knees I would suffer! There are a few select beverages that I adore there, and I can walk in and order them with the tone in my voice that implies both that I know what I want and that I am so cool that it bores me. I don't mean for it to come out that way, but the ordering system makes it so. I have been assimilated.

This week, I ordered custom rechargeable Starbucks cards for both Lisa and myself. thus is my addiction. I need a support group, but don't they serve shitty coffee at those things?

My Card!




Want one?

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

On Stress

money work health issues money new refrigerator money sleepless nights money people at work who make me want to go ballistic and shove a makeshift shank made out of a credit card and some scotch tape into their eyeball just deep enough to puncture without entering the skull and killing them money money heart monitor that most likely will not show what it needs to because it will happen right before it's put on and right after it's taken off and my doctors will begin to wonder if i even have a heart but i know i do because it stutters every so often to remind me it's there and taunt me with the knowledge that it thinks it's better than i am and doesn't need me money damned car drives funny with a thumping on the right side but nothing apparent causing it and we already sunk close to 1000 into it in the last 3 months money almost had a part time job money didn't get that part time job money still looking for a part time job that doesn't include gyrating on a sweat soaked stage and tipping over on huge clear plastic stiletto hooker boots with a cigarette hanging from my lips while wearing an old mu mu fashioned into a g-string because I can't afford to buy one money worrying about family money balancing work with school with house and family and finding more work and money and coffee. i need more coffee.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

On Flaurs, Hayer and Gawd

We recently had a visit from my aunt and uncle from Kentucky. It was great to see them, but sometimes I forget what it sounds like to come from the bible belt area, and my aunt has the BEST accent being from Louisville. I also pretty much forget that Lisa has an accent. When she speaks, it sounds normal (well, content aside) to me. However, when these two women were in the same room, I swear I needed some sort of Star Trek-esque device that could decode alien languages. One night, we were having a conversation at my parents' house and it became very apparent that I live with a grammar vigilant Briton, and that my aunt has had her language processor surgically altered to "Southern" at some point in her life. The edited version of the night follows:

Aunt Jane: Oh mah GAWD! They were setten on the grayond and I took a picture and when it came out - all you saw were these blue flaurs!!

Lisa: I'm sorry, what again?

Aunt Jane: What? The flaurs?

Lisa: Oh flares? Like road flares?

Me: I don't think so...

Lisa: Fliers? Flies? Wait, what?

Aunt Jane: Flaurs. Blue flaurs.

Me: Flowers?

Aunt Jane: Well, yes, that's what I said!

Lisa: Oh my God, that was flowers? There should be more syllables!

Aunt Jane: That's what we do in the South. We add them to some words and take them out of others. Like, "brush your hayer. hay-er. 2 syllables. Not hair. But Flowers? They're just flaurs."

Cut to me on the floor laughing because I was certain at this point that my father didn't understand one word that had been said for the prior 20 minutes between the both of them. Oddly enough, I think they understood each other really well.

Also during the stay, we talked a little history and politics and such. Not much, because I hear that kind of thing can ruin a family, but I was giggling when the subject of the Civil War came up and my father tried to zing Lisa by saying:
"The only thing you learned about our civil war and our history was through books!" to which she calmly replied that, indeed - so did he. Silly boy. As if he fought in the Civil War and learned that way. He looks good for being that old!

So, here's the family.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Thunder Heaven

So, tonight's weather has been exceptional, and would normally put me in a very good mood. There's nothing like weather you can feel with all of your senses. Touch, taste, smell, see, hear and for some people - other senses too. Girlyman has this great song where my favorite lines are:

"The sky smells like water and the air tastes like steel
If you were a storm, this is how you would feel
Still and dark all night
With great flashes of light" ~ "Hey Rose"

So this night would have been amazing if it hadn't been for Thunder. When I was moving the car in the driveway, I noticed something in my neighbor's driveway in a puddle. It was still, grey, flattened and my stomach knew what he was. I couldn't leave him there, as I feared that he would suffer the endless parade of truck tires that enter and exit that driveway every day. I knew he was long gone from his little bunny body - but it still doesn't feel right. So I moved him to a quiet section under some bushes outside of their property and said a few Buddhist words for him. Not a consolation really, but I am hoping he is hopping to another life of lessons.

In his honor - a silly picture of Thunder in Bunny Heaven.

Introducing Susie



This is Alice's cousin, in a twisted, Southern kind of way. We rescued Susie from the same shelter that Alice came from, because it seemed like all the signs of fate were telling us to. Barbara's Mom is called Sue (Dad calls her Susie), she looks just like Boo (Barbara's old cat who sadly passed away three years ago), and is missing her right eye. When she was just a kitten, although she's only around 2 now, some young boys poked that eye out with a stick. As a consequence, she is extremely skittish, particularly around men. That said, these last few months have seen a notable difference in her behavior. She is becoming more brazen, more willing to be around loud noises (although still not thrilled), and will actually let you pet her now. She has the cutest little silent-meow, which if you didn't know better sounds like a hiss. The vets think that she screamed so much when she lost her eye that she damaged her vocal chords.

Susie lives with Mom and Dad, because Alice just isn't really safe for other cats to be around (and definitely suffers from Only Child Syndrome), and was kind of thrust upon them, but I don't think they regret it for a second!

What Is Really In My Brain

The results from the many tests and probes of my doctors are in, and I wanted to share them with you all. I think it explains a lot.

A 'Normal' Brain


My Brain


Soooooo - as you can see by the diagrams of that part controls what, and what they actually found in mine, I'm pretty well damned. Oh well. Stay tuned for further results.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Eggs and Guatemalans



In which we headed to Egypt


This weekend saw us joined in New Jersey by the delightful Miss Tinita, which made Captain Alice (and us) very happy. There was breakfast, chatting, laughing, a movie, and above all else, coffee.

Yesterday morning Miss Tinita showed up on our doorstep, closely followed by Mom and Aunt Janie. I, in my one true display of domesticity, baked the only thing I can bake, Egg and 'Bacon' muffins. Slightly deviated from the recipe in the book, here I go:

Gazelle's Egg and 'Bacon' muffins

Yield: 12 muffins
10 Eggs (I use 2½ cups of Egg Beaters)
10 oz Canadian Bacon
Cheese. I don't know how much, just sprinkle!
and of course, a little bit of:



What? You don't like that? Fine, then try this instead:



Preheat oven to 350°. Mix together eggs, bacon and spike. Grease 12-holding muffin pan with PAM butter spray, then spoon the mixture into each individual muffin-hole. Cover with shredded/grated cheese (I use the 2% Kraft, either Mexican 4-Cheese, or Cheddar). Put in oven and bake for 25 minutes, or until yummy-looking.

So that's my recipe. Try it, nom it, let me know what you thought.

Dad and Uncle Jack showed up soon afterwards, and we all sat down to a nommy breakfast of the afore-mentioned muffins, and some chocolate muffins a là Aunt Janie and Mom's recipe book, along with some coffee cake, and of course what breakfast is complete without coffee itself?! In its purest form, it is sweet, sweet nectar of the gods.

We all sat and chatted over brekkie, and had a wonderful time. Aunt Janie and Uncle Jack got the tour of casa del Gazeligie, then Mom and Dad took them home to prepare spare ribs a là Famous Cole Recipe Book. Barbara and I took our beloved Tinita off to see Mamma Mia, which was just a riot. Seriously recommended. Afterwards was a necessary stop to Starbucks. I'm so in love with their Mint Mocha Chip Frappuccino Light, that I could probably quite happily just move into our nearest one. What day can possibly compare to such a perfect one as yesterday?

When Canadians Get Mean


I didn't think it was possible, but Senorita LaSon sent me this pic she snapped while on a binge shopping spree in Toronto this weekend. I was shocked. I was horrified. The European exploitation apparently has no boundaries. What's next? A discount French baby market in Montreal?

See for yourself.

Friday, July 18, 2008

Sick Note



I can trace a few amazing memories back to a few amazing people, and one was Lady LaSon, who once sent me this via email many years ago. I find it to be really apropos right now, so I am sharing.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

The End of Lohan Time

I am forcing myself to return to work tomorrow. As you know (if you read this blog regularly, and I know I am flattering myself here) I have been disgustingly ill. I have been icky ill to the extent that I was able to create discomfort by discussing it with the ever-British Lisa. Nothing makes her squirm more than my verbose and detailed play-by-play of mucus horrors and other bodily functions.

Even though I feel way under par, I have a hard time not being at work. I know it's an odd concept, and usually I'd dig a day off, but this kind of sick makes it preferable to actually be healthy and not working. So, even though I'm not feeling even close to 100%, I'm heading in tomorrow to give it my best. I know I can't contaminate anyone else (even though that could be fun)so I can cough and hack my way through the day guilt free. Why would I take off Monday through Thursday and go in on a Friday? I just can't justify it. If I am finally fever free, it's my duty to get my ass into work. I don't like leaving people hanging, or putting extra responsibility on others. I swear I would have made an awesome Catholic in another life.

The bonus that makes this week worth it? If I can feel well enough, I FINALLY get to see my Aunt Jane and Uncle Jack from Louisville, KY. My dad's sister, and I haven't seen them in what I've calculated to be about 17 years. That makes me feel like a real shithead. I know I didn't even live near here, let alone Kentucky, but these are amazing people, and I really miss them. I'm glad to be seeing them this week. I am hoping to wrangle a southern breakfast from them before they leave. That would rock hard. She liked the book Lisa and I created for my mom this year. If yer interested, it's a family cookbook, and we compiled the loose scraps of paper mom had been using as a recipe book and had it published with photos and everything. Really posh. Take a look. It's available to anyone who wishes to purchase it.

I'm going to bed, after I give Lisa some bodily function related bed time stories.

Searching for a bug to add to her collection

A Special Day

I don't really have much to talk about today, but for reasons that will make themselves clear, I need to post.

I gave myself the day off school today, because I spent a lot of yesterday in bed, and a lot of last night with my best buddy, NyQuil. I still feel a little like I imagine a camel's ass to feel. Do camels have asses? Surely they can carry everything all by themselves.

Anyway, I'm a little nervous about the whole thing...DeVry in its infinite wisdom moved everything over to 8 week courses only, so I missed out today on ⅛ of my poetry class and a sixteenth of my advanced databases. I'm not sure that Rywalt gives points for attendance, but I know I missed out on 20 easy points and perhaps increased understanding by missing the poetry. Meh. I'm almost certain that I missed a great lecture in database too, because the woman just rocks my socks and actually knows what she's talking about. I shouldn't beat myself up about it. It's done and dusted now. Still, old habits die hard.

Speaking of dying...today is 8 years since my Mum died. My fingers just tried to spell that with an O. I've been in the US too long. Anyway, I always make an effort to check in with her online on a select few days of the year, and this is one of them, no matter how incoherent I currently feel.

It's a little odd, I think, that last night she, my Nanna, and my Granddad all had cameos in my dream. My grandparents were helping me make a pizza out of marble in North Carolina, and then explode it at the vital moment to help feed the aquatic creatures. Mum sat in the corner, in a wheelchair, with my Dad, and tried to ignore the kittens flying at her. The strangest part of the dream (really, it gets more odd) was when I was standing by the curtain, and she said something racist. Quite un-Mumlike. In my dream, my initial reaction was "Muuuuuum!!" (said in that whiny 15 year old "you're embarrassing me" voice), and then I checked myself. I became suddenly aware that it wasn't real and she was gone, and that I needed to decide if I would rather spend my limited time with her embarrassed, or enjoying ourselves. Suffice to say, I went with the enjoying ourselves option, and wheeled her over to the marble pizza.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

A reminder that I'm human

At 11:30 today, Alice had another vet's appointment to check up on that zit she got last week. Just a usual day in the lives of the Gazelle and Alice, frankly. We spend so much time with our vet that we're putting her daughter through college, even though she's only a year old. She's a genius. And Carolina, the receptionist is just a delight.

So, Alice and I are sitting there in the waiting room, opposite a guy of about 60 and his huge Newfoundland-type, Lucky. Out of the blue, an elderly woman rushes in (and so as not to unwittingly cause offense to anyone, I would estimate her age around 75), up to the desk, and sobs "I think she's dead already."

Carolina ran outside with the woman, and brought her dog in on a big blue carry-stretcher. It turns out her beloved dog was thankfully not yet passed, but our amazing vet was able to work her magic and put her out of her misery while Mommy and Daddy held a paw each.

I did my best to keep it together, retain composure and that stiff upper lip, but failed. The woman was distraught, understandably, and Carolina had tears in her eyes and just kept saying "I'm so sorry." I know death is a part of life, but I felt so bad for them.

I've recently become increasingly aware that the usual things don't seem to be upsetting me in the way they should. Cue much introspection. Movies don't get to me, nor music. Nothing. This experience this morning was a reminder that I am human, whether I like it or not. I've done my best to put memories of similar experiences out of my head, but I can still imagine those two elderly people going home to an empty house, and it breaks my heart. I miss my Becky and Murphy. Both Lucky and Alice got extra cuddles this morning, that's for sure.

Bad Blogger!

Dear Blog Readers,

Please excuse Barbara from Blogging these past few days. She was under the care of some very fine physicians, and due to medication as well as her below average IQ, she was unable to formulate coherent sentences. Not that coherence is a requirement of this particular blog, but we know you readers demand the very best. She will return to regularly scheduled blogging when she feels less Phlegm-tastic!

Thank you,

Barbara's Immune System

So, instead of her usual drivel - please enjoy a picture!

"Blogging Isn't So Hard" ~ by Captain Alice©2007

Sunday, July 13, 2008

2 Quick Things of Interest

1 - While at a Starbucks (where else?) yesterday with L and my sister, a woman was slouched into one of the huge cushy armchairs, looking quite asleep. I didn't think much of the consequences of sleeping at an open coffee house until my sister pointed out that the woman's teeth had fallen out. Dislodged dentures of a snoring stranger are nothing I ever want to look at while sipping coffee again. *shudder*

2 - I am exhaustedly, stupidly, ridiculously sick right now. What I thought was a throat tickle of allergies on Thursday night has become Armageddon within my host body and manifested in a sinus infection with a massive fever and a constant hacking cough to a) wake the dead, b) create a pulpy, bloody throat and c) make me and everyone in this house miserable.

During this horrible episode, I decided to watch pathetic television because as everyone knows, when you are this sick, you can watch anything. I found out today, that it's almost anything. Apparently, no one cared to give the message to the cast, crew and everyone involved in L. Lohan's I Know Who Killed Me. Oh. My. God. I wanted to kill her. No - wait, I wanted her to kill me. Ok, anyone could have while I was watching this. I think she made this movie with the sole purpose of annoying me while I was sick. I actually think this movie made me even more ill. If I have to call out from work tomorrow, I am going to demand that it come from my "Lohan Time" bank. Not vacation, not personal, not even sick. Lohan Time.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

One-Upped Like Whoa

After dinner with some great friends we were chatting at the house. I had just been thinking how great it was to spend quality time with a couple who are so fun, solid, secure and who are also attempting to expand their family. It's just great to see. So the conversation went:

K&S - Our vacuum is a Bissel, we bought one for my Dad when he wanted to replace his Oreck. He loves it and it was so much cheaper.

Me - I'm absolutely in LOVE with our Dyson. It's a huge deal for us and it's hypoallergenic, animal fur, hair and dander eliminating, and specially built to work for people with asthma. It was an expense, but I think it was so worth it. I mean (I continue to gush about this household appliance as though it was made of spun gold and could turn itself into Rosie the Robot of the Jetsons. Just whistle for a few minutes and pretend I have written out my part of the conversation, because I surely babbled about how happy I am with this vacuum for way longer than polite conversation about such things would permit. They were sweet not to say anything or cough loudly to let me know that they might be bored. Ok, I'm coming back into it now...) you couldn't imagine how amazing it works. It was over $600.00, but I think a great investment for us.

Lisa - Yeah, it was an economic stimulus purchase. (she smiles at me and I smile back)

K - We bought sperm.

Pwned.

Well played, Trebek. Well played.

Captain Alice Hits Puberty

Alice had to go to the evil vets today for a sore on her mouth that was worrying us. Turns out that instead of the horrors that flew through our minds, it’s kitty puberty. Here’s what a friend (Allie) and I discussed after:

Allie: no way!
a zit?
teen years?
lay off the chocolate and pizza, Alice!
me: honestly
here I am all worried, and she's just slamming the bedroom door and telling me i don't 'understand'
Allie: hah!!!
me: According to the chart in the vet's office, she's almost 45 in human years!
Allie: aww!
mid-life crisis
me: I expect a slew of teenage boys, and a sports car in the driveway at any minute
Allie: desperate house cat
me: if she's sleeping with the plumber across the street, we're having words.
Allie: HAHA!!!

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Tissues

On The Dangers Of Bedding

Lisa and I had to pop out to the store today to purchase a new set of sheets for the bed. We have several - okay - many. The problem is, we are so ridiculously odd in similar ways that there is no way we are going to use the wrong sheets at the wrong time. For instance, we have flannel sheets for winter, and specifically, certain designs for holiday time and such. Now it's summer, and since we both treat heat like Kryptonite, we pack those away and use the high thread count cotton/Jersey sheets. We change sheets more often than most men change underwear - I'd say just about every week. The adorable Alice sees to it that she sheds and sneezes all over the bed, particularly on pillows and up near our faces. Lisa is highly allergic, so to keep it livable, we circulate sheets every week.

In one of the stores we popped into today, we were looking for the Jersey sheets when I spied a children's set on display. To my shock and horror, it was an "island time" theme, innocent enough - until you see what they put in the package. Sure, the usual sheet set, but also a "bed skirt" made to look like a hula skirt going around the bed. Even better? It's made out of that fake, plastic raffia, kind of what they make Easter basket grass out of that your cat/dog eats and poops in long trailing strings around the house. Even the pillow cases were fringed in the same material. The first and only thought through my mind was an inferno scene. What a great idea! Let's make children's bedding out of a highly flammable material and have it fully encircle the bed as well as their heads individually. All it might take is one second of careless smoking from one of these toddlers and *poof*, up they go in flames. One time they nod off while cooking a batch of crack and they get extra-crispy. Dangerous world we live in.

So we bought the plum coloured sheets and went home.

Saturday, July 5, 2008

On Gringos and Moles

Today was a bonus day, like a Cracker Jack double Saturday prize because of the 3 day weekend. Sticky sweet, but you know it’ll catch up to you later. We have done quite a bit with the weekend as far as house projects go, and today was a little bit more laid back. After the day’s events, we decided to grab a bite at a little place that we’ve never been to. The floor plan of the place makes it a claustrophobic’s nightmare, so I was of course thrilled. Even better, the acoustics are awful – making it so you can’t hear the person you are sitting with while the 6 year old Damien child across the place is screaming at just the right pitch to both annoy you AND call wild dogs. Here’s a demo:
So, it was crowded and people were loud. Ok, we can deal. Then the little girl at the table directly next to us opened her purse and got out her daily dose of birth control and palmed it discreetly before taking it with a swig of her Corona Light. Seriously, she looked 12, and it is a BYOB, so you never know.

The highlight of my evening was while looking over the menu, I had JUST decided on what I was going to order when Lisa half closed the cover to her menu and leaned over to me with a terrified look on her face. She then asked “Um, what do they mean when they say “Mole Pork”?” Much giggle then ensued on my part because not only had I decided to order the Mole Pork Enchiladas, but by the look on her face, she had kinetically transferred the image she was holding to my brain as well with her pronunciation being Mole (mōl) when the actual word is Mole (mo-lay) for the type of sauce used in the dish. This then lead to the obvious giggle fest about Mole, Moles, Mole-Moles and al types of Moles. Observe the pictorial wonder of our minds:



MmmHmmm. No good could come of this. She had firmly planted an image of a cute little furry mole wrapped in a corn tortilla and dripping in a yummy sauce. The entire dinner, I was thinking “It’s going to bite me back”. It didn’t, but I now feel an urge to tunnel in my own backyard. Odd. Crap. Lisa is now singing The Kaiser Chiefs’ song “Ruby” with “Mole” instead. That’s going to be in my head ALL FUCKING NIGHT. So, I’ll share the misery with you. Don't Forget To Sing Mo-Lay!

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Introducing...Her supremeness...Captain Alice!

Yes, this is our cat. She goes by the name of Captain Alice, is sick as a dog (*cough*), but utterly full of love. Until you displease her. Then she'll have you swabbing the decks. Arrrr.

Happy Belated Pride month, all!

On Anonymice

Firstly, I would like to thank everyone for their support so far, and introduce myself. I'll be Lisa, your co-host and webmistress. Please, settle in, throw us into your bookmarks, and make yourself at home. There's always coffee on in el casa del She².

I'm afraid I've already had to make a small change to the way we planned to do business. Now, if you'd like to leave a comment, you'll have to sign in. It's OpenID, or if you're a Google/Blogger user, that'll do it.

If you can't be bothered to read about OpenID, or sign up to YET ANOTHER service, here's the gist, in Lisa-Speak:

If you currently use AOL, Yahoo, Flickr, LiveJournal, Blogger, Vox, or Wordpress -- you're in luck. Your OpenID has already been created for you: all you have to do is sign in here with your username for that service.

If you don't have any of the above, I recommend VeriSign. It's free, and will only benefit you in the long run.

Why have I done this? Because I've received a fair few emails overnight about the anonymous comment left here. Yes, Lansdale, I'm talking about you. Basically, these emails called for me to delete it and move on. Here's the deal, guys: we're gay. We have exceptionally thick skin as a necessity. If you want to get your jollies from leaving grammatically-challenged comments and slurs, please do. We're not going to stop you, and honestly, we've heard it all before *yawn*; however, seeing as you know who WE are, I think it's only fair that, in return, you give us YOUR name. Anyone can be an Internet Tough Guy when it's anonymous. Grow a pair.

So ends this announcement. Soon to be followed by pictures of omgzkittehs.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

A Delicate Clarification

It was brought to my attention today by the always tactful Boy that my previous post made it sound as though it is my intention to procure a penis.

Breathe deep all. It's not my style. I was simply saying that I found it utterly ridiculous that it would be easier for me in a myriad of ways *if* I were to get a sex change rather than try to overcome the obstacles put forth by government policies and other crapulence.

Besides, if I did all of a sudden think - "Hey, I'll run out and get me a dick and surprise Lisa!" - just my luck it'd be on the very same day she decided to do the same thing for me. Then where would we be? On the shelves of some very disturbing, car-wreck-like porno.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

On Shorts and Their Profound Connection to Marriage


While sitting outside a local Starbucks, licking the very dregs from our “Lite” and tasty frozen beverages and pretending that they are certainly as sinful as the full-on sugary goodness of the regular ones, 2 guys walked out and down the sidewalk of the strip mall.

I observed them both and something struck me then… life would have been and would be so much easier if I were male. Ok, bear with me, as my logic sometimes feels like a young kid struggling to pull a Great Dane on a leash down the road. You know what that kid is doing, but you have NO IDEA how they might get there.

Back to the guys. I wear men’s shorts. I just do. I buy the majority of my clothes from the men’s sections and departments. They are more comfortable, and they are so much more practical. Cargos are the only way to go. C’mon – I don’t use a purse, so where else am I going to put my cell, car keys, my men’s wallet and the wadded up dollar bills? Pockets! When I looked around me after those guys passed us, I saw women wearing intolerable things. I don’t have an issue wearing what I wear, and I personally think I wear things pretty well. I get by and no one has asked me to leave somewhere based on my sense of fashion. My parents may have been tempted, but even they have held their tongue. I don’t typically dress as the lesbian fashion victim, but I admit to falling prey to some of the more “stereotypical” pitfalls, and men’s cargo shorts are it.

This got me thinking about how comfortable men’s fashion is, and I OF COURSE made the connection that their lives must be just as simple. It’s obvious. Ok, I’m not that stupid, but I was leaning toward that assumption when the other aspects of being male; or at least one of us being male, would make our lives immeasurably easier.

One of the biggest areas of irritation in our lives at the moment has been the impossibility of our having a relationship that is 100% equal to that of anyone else in this nation. Blah Blah Blah Blah Gay Marriage Blah Blah. I’m not going there in the way you might think. I’m not on a stage somewhere shoving my life down anyone else’s throat or up anyone else’s ass, for that matter. I know that there are a few states in the nation (2 out of 50?) that would allow us to marry and enjoy the same rights that my own parents, sister, friends and grandparents enjoyed. There are even a few places including my own state that would allow us a union of civility that would give us some rights. That sounds romantic, right? A union filled with civility. Who needs love and respect?

The problem we face is the Federal government. With citizenship being an issue, we cannot partake in even the minimal and pathetic charades a few states allow because the federal government won’t recognize it, and we therefore cannot be wife and wife. Why is this a big deal? Why can’t we just live happily without the paperwork of a marriage? This is because that paperwork prevents us from having a moment’s peace, and keeps us living day to day. Nothing is concrete, and there is no permanence. We want to begin a family, live our lives, and contribute to a better society and world. We can’t. Without those documents, I cannot have her on my health insurance at work. Without health insurance, we can’t think of having a child. Without papers, they can decide not to reissue a Visa at any time and force her to leave the country. Without papers, she cannot lawfully procure a full time job as the programmer she was born to be, and therefore not earn money in a partner/spousal capacity. Without papers, there is no solid ground under our feet.

Her sister called us the other day, and she announced that after a long term relationship with a bloke from Delaware, he proposed and they are getting married! They filled out the fiancé Visa paperwork, and once it is sent back to her, she can fly here, they get married, and she is issued a Green Card so she can begin to work and apply for citizenship. We are so thrilled for her and very excited that we’ll have some proper family living nearby finally.

What does this have to do with men’s shorts? Not much, but from what I gather, it’d be a lot easier for one of us to legitimately undergo the process of having a sex change, and then legally marry each other, thus granting citizenship based on a “true marriage”. The US would rather I surgically alter my sexual gender then marry the person I love as we are. Maybe they are on to something. If it's so wrong for the same gender to love, I'm glad to know I have surgical options to 'fix' that. Just look at Ann Coulter and Janet Reno; those boys make passable chicks. I will follow their leadership. That is SO hot. Too bad I really love being a woman. I vow to have the biggest penis money can buy. If I'm going Male, I'm doin' it full-on Ron Jeremy! Thanks President Bush! Thanks God!

Good thing cargos have that extra room in the crotch. Guess I’ll need it…