Saturday, June 17, 2006

Which day exactly ISN’T fathers’ Day?

Which day exactly ISN’T fathers’ Day? They all are. Children are still their property all over the world. Priests are called Father. God is called the Father. And one of the ten commandments is ‘honor thy father’. Why? Because we have to be told to do it, because he certainly doesn’t earn it. It’s a racket I tell you. What if your father is a mean bastard? The holiday acts like all fathers are good – just because they are fathers (and we all know what they did to become that – not very much, and it usually involves alcohol and tricking a woman). We’re supposed to buy them things, like BBQ tools so they can cook in the only way they will – which is to burn dead animals outside, and poke at it with long metal sticks. If the fathers want a day to celebrate themselves, then they better start honoring us children, and treating us REALLY well, or Father’s Day is going to get ugly.

PS. If you’re one of the good fathers (i.e. benevolent dictator) then I’m probably not referring to you, and I don’t want to hear you whine about my statements. Police your own, and then we won’t have to talk about it.

Thursday, June 15, 2006


There's a lof of talk these days about Guantanamo, and most of it's not good: force feedings, torture, "suicides" (aka asymetric warfare - yeah, one side has all the guns and runs the prison, and the other one gets to hang themselves with sheets). Um, Guantamo is in CUBA!!!!! And we officially HATE Cuba, and we're not allowed to even go visit there. How is it that we have a prison and a big army base there? How can we pretend that Cuba is a threat, when we have an army and prisoners in their backyard, and they can't do anything about it? Aren't we Cuba's illegal immigrants? And if the army can be there, then why can't I go to Havana and smoke a cigar (I mean aside from that I'm ten, and I don't smoke, and the smell of cigars make me want to vomit)?

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Excuse me, but she's NOT an orphan

There's an eleven year old girl in Palestine named Huda Ghaliya, who's father and siblings (and father's other wife) died in an explosion on the beach. This is awful, and we should all be outraged at this and all other senseless acts of violence. Now, the two Palestinian factions are fighting over who will get to adopt her. I thought that was wierd enough, cause I'm pretty sure there are plenty of orphans to go around. But then I found out that she's not really an orphan at all. SHE HAS A MOTHER, but Palestinians consider a fatherless child to be an orphan. What is wrong with them??? I realize people have different beliefs--I have two parents and consider myself an orphan, but I don't expect anyone else to. And I don't see any politicians lining up to adopt me.

If a fatherless child is considered an orphan, then if the Palistinians really cared about children then each woman would have extra husbands, so if one died the children wouldn't have to be orphans.

It should be up to Huda to decide if she wants to be an orphan.

Sunday, June 11, 2006

More on the War

Okay, I do have to deal with the fact that I am living with murderous people who want to kill other creatures, and I’ll get to that when the crisis is over. For now I have to save the animals. I went to retrieve the poison and throw it away, and I discovered that they are not eating the poison. My family is freaking out, because they are making so much noise that it sounds like there are hundreds of them. But today I figured out that it’s not rats, but raccoons, and I can prove it, because they were making raccoon noises. That’s the mother – and she has some babies. This is the sound the babies make: babies. So I found this on the web to prove to all these idiots that it’s wild animals, and not rats, and and you’re not allowed to kill wild animals. And so now they want to put in one way doors so when they leave they can’t come back. Two problems. One is that if the mother leaves, the babies will die in the walls. The other problem is probably a blessing, and that is that the pest men are such slackers that they probably won’t find where the raccoons come it, plus even if they do, the raccoons will find another way, cause they’re very smart. I’m trying to make them wait for the babies to grow up enough to leave with their mother. I’ll keep you posted on that effort.

If you use the links I made to the raccoon noises, please know that I did not google hunting aids, and it is a hunting site -- which I don’t’ understand, because why do hunters need to know what raccoons sound like? Or lots of the other animals on there?

It’s the weekend now, so the animals are safe from the killers, and hopefully they have not eaten any of the poison that is supposed to only kill rats. (Yeah right, my friends cat ate a rat that had been poisoned, and the cat almost died.)


There are atrocities happening under my own roof. We have rats in our house. We’ve never actually seen them, but we hear them, and we find their turds, and they make a lot of noise, and even though they’re the size of our feet – if that, my parents think we are at war. A tribal war, except that they are not trying to kill us, and we are trying to kill them. My parents and brothers are. I am NOT. And the cats don’t seem to care. The only question my family has is how to kill them. Do we poison them? Or crush their heads? My brother wants to crush their heads, because if they eat the poison they’re supposed to get horribly thirsty and go out to look for water and then die, and he’s afraid he won’t get to see the dead bodies. He sits by the side of the house hoping to see one stumble out so he can go Haditha on it. But so far, he’s been robbed of what he thinks is his right to murder.

The “Pest” men have come over 3 times already – and I gave them a list of the pests (with addresses) that I think need ‘removal.’ It’s creepy that we have hired killers coming over to our house. They’re kind of slackers. They just looked around real quick and said they couldn’t find any holes in our house and so they just left poison. I aksed “what about the squirrels and other animals, won’t they die too.” “No” they said, “this won’t hurt them at all, only the rats. We don’t kill animals.” And I said what about the rats? And they said, this will just make them very thirsty and maybe have some heartburn and then they’ll go outside to get a drink. ‘yeah, but they die-- a horrible poisonous death.’ I know they know, but they really don’t want to be killers, it’s just a crappy job, which is probably all they could get. but that’s no excuse to be a murderer. Just cause someone pays you to do it doesn’t mean you didn’t. And just because they use all kinds of fake language doesn’t make it not killing.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

The Not-So-Great Wall

We're building the not-so-great wall of the US on the Mexico border when the terrorists are in Canada (and the White House), I guess cause we're tired of getting cheap produce. It is criminal after all. And the war is going badly and people don't like "President" Bush anymore, so now Bush is taking action: "bash the gays". I'm sure that will help a lot with the economy and the war and everything else that's wrong here. WWJD? Well, if Jesus was here he'd probably be fag-bashed by his own followers. He had long hair, wore a dress, hung out with a bunch of boys, and called the corrupt people in charge corrupt! He never got married, and he was 33, and in those days, that was NOT normal.

My friend Frances and I are constantly being called 'lezzies', just cause we're not willing to go in the back of the bus with the gross boys who call themselves the Duke LaCross team. And we're not afraid to hold hands or piggyback (though I have to be on top, because Frances weights almost twice what I weigh). I don't care if you call me a lezzie. I don't care if I am a lezzie. I'm ten years old, and right now I'm not interested in sex with ANYONE, and not sure if I ever will be, but that's my business, and if we girls stop being afraid of being called lezzies (and boys stop being afraid of being called faggot) then we'd all be a lot better off. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me. But if you EVER throw a stick or stone at me, I will take that as an invitation to go mental on you. And if you call me gay, I will say, "oh, do you mean gay like Ellen and Martina and K.D. Lang, and Virginia Woolf and Leonardo Da Vinci? or do you mean like J.Edgar Hoover, and James Baaker, and the married fathers who go to truck stops?" Idiots.