Current Events

Something our media think you shouldn't see as it might make you question why the UN would allow the Iranian "government" to posses nuclear weapons.

There are several things about the world body that I do not understand. Let's admit first that it is made up primarily of men. What I want to know is how you can call yourself a man and not stand up to psychotics who would hang a sixteen year old girl (or any woman) for crimes against chastity.
Please tell me how a "strongly worded letter" suggesting that someday the UN might discuss talking about a discussion of the possibility of sanctions is going to halt Iran's human rights abuses and nuclear ambitions. Seriously. How can they go home and fuck their wives, mistresses, or female slaves after having so firmly grabbed their ankles and widely spread their buttocks for the "government" of Iran?

The Iranian government has made no secret of it's devotion to sharia law (the Islamic moral code that controls every aspect of one's life from the food you eat to the clothes you wear to whom you are allowed to marry). What is even more frightening is that it has made no secret of it's desire for Islam to conquer the world. And the most frightening thing of all is that our own media will not report it.

I have my suspicions as to why. First off, I think the media have become so comfortable with themselves as self-appointed watchdogs of the White Male Establishment in America and are so complacent with their ability to make our government bow to their every whim with a casual tossing out of words like "intolerant" and "racist," that they have forgotten what true oppression is (assuming they've ever known).

Secondly, I believe the media have an ingrained left-wing bias that has myopically targeted the Bush administration despite the fact that should our endeavors in Iraq and Afghanistan be successful, a far more liberal world ideal would emerge - one where sixteen year old girls would not be hanged for crimes against chastity, women could prosecute their rapists without being stoned for adultery, men could shave their faces without fear of a public beating, and the list goes on.

But I suppose that goal is secondary to the primary left-wing ideal of a global government who sticks it to the rich (and by rich they mean that disgusting, mediocre cross-section of humanity known as the Middle Class) until everyone is poor, forgetting of course that this ideal has never had even a modicum of success anywhere it's been tried. Show me a country where they have taken people's property by force and I will show you a country with secret police, political prisons, death camps, poverty, starvation, absolute control of the media, absolute control on speech, absolute control of every aspect of the people's lives including those who had nothing to begin with.

But when you truly look at radical fundamentalist Islam, Wahabbism, Salafism, Sharia law, etc...the ideals are almost exactly that of Communism, bearing in mind that Atheism was forced upon the people of the Soviet bloc just as Islam is forced upon the people of Iran. Sure you could practice another religion if you wanted, but there was no guarantee of your safety in the Soviet Union, and there is certainly no guarantee of your safety in Iran. Both countries had/have prisons for that kind of thing.

So back to the UN. It doesn't seem so odd now that China and Russia, despite being ruthlessly progressive (yet staggeringly incompetent) and fundamentally atheist, have aligned themselves with the fundamentally Islamic government of Iran. But it does reek of hypocrisy both from the Islamists, who decry secularism only to ally themselves with the worst possible example of it, and from Russia and China who purport to detest religion (remember Marx's "opiate of the masses?") only to ally themselves with the worst possible example of it.

I am not of the mindset that we have to turn the countries of our enemies into mirrors in order to have peace. But we must implement democracies even if the people elect unfriendly administrations, and we must be firmly committed to the ideal in spite of setbacks and specifically because of what is NOT reported.

We should not allow the media to dictate or compromise our ideals which is exactly what they are doing when they fail to report human rights violations in Iran or when they publish faked/staged photos from Lebanon. The latest scandal involves Hezbollah handing out counterfeit U.S. currency in the form of $100 bills. The actual scandal is not Hezbollah's theft, but the media filming it and reporting it as if Hezbollah was a Wonderful Utopian Socialist Organization delivering it's largesse to the masses. Never once did they think to investigate whether the crisp, new $100 bills were legitimate in spite of Hezbollah's being one of the chief manufacturers of counterfeit U.S. currency. The very best case scenario is that the media are lazy. The worst is almost too terrible to contemplate.



*Addendum*

My family and I had to escape Iran in 1978 just before the Islamic hardliners ousted the Shah. We would have been killed otherwise.

Jethro's family had to escape Vietnam during the fall of Saigon when the communists overtook the city. They would have been killed otherwise.

If the Pants Fit...

I have these pants that I really like. They fit decently, they don't look too repulisive, and I got them on sale for around $5.00. The only problem is that they make me itch in the more personal areas of my anatomy.

"But Zelda," I can hear everyone thinking. "You live in Houston. You have a vagina. It's to be expected."

And that's true, I suppose. But I still can't help wondering whether one of the many individuals who tried them on before they were reduced to $5.00 had the clap.

Back to the Old Drawing-Board

I started back to work with Stepfather. I didn't intend to, but I decided that I was missing the money I used to have in my bank account, so I went back. It was just in the nick of time because he was about to interview someone else.

So this morning, I got the kids off to school, groggily awaited the burden of consciousness to dissipate, washed my crotch in the shower (I'd taken a full shower the night before), and left for work. Without my shirt. I was completely out the door when I realized I was feeling my purse a little more than usual. It just goes to show how much I need to diet when my hands flew to cover my fat rolls instead of my boobs which were protected only by a see-through pink bra.

The first task that awaited me on my first day back at work was to call several other realtors and ask if their clients would lease their properties to a couple with 4 dogs and 5 cats. Truly nothing changes. The first agent I called actually laughed at me. He didn't even tell me yes or no. What he said was, "You really need to hand off that lead." Thanks buddy. Glad you didn't catch me without my shirt.

I felt justified in pretending to call the other agents and then just went ahead and told our client that everyone said no. I think I've said it before, but don't bother trying to lease something if you have pets. And better yet, if you are a renter, leave the nice kitties alone until you own something. It will make your life and mine so much easier.

TGIHitler's

How would you like this looking down on you while you try to eat your chicken fried curry?

Seriously. Some not particularly savvy residents of Mumbai, India wanted to open a restaurant that people will remember. It's called Hitler's Cross.

Even though I'm half-Jewish and I'd be just as dead as any other Jew if I'd lived in WWII Germany (or Poland, Holland, Austria, etc.) and Hitler had is way, it's difficult not to see the humor in it. However, I do resent the caption Reuters/Yahoo news put on it: "It's like if "The Producers" opened an eatery."

First of all, it's grammatically incorrect and while I get that they are attempting a more informal vernacular, it's simply unacceptable for a straight news service.

Secondly, it's inaccurate. The owners are not trying to fail in their business venture and hopefully the result will be exactly the oppposite of The Producers.

Thirdly, it's stupid. I came up with four better ones immediately. Let's see if anyone can beat them:

#1. "Is the SS Curry Chicken supposed to scream in the oven?"

#2. "So what exactly do you put in the special sauce?"

#3. "You tell everybody. Listen to me, Hatcher. You've gotta tell them! The Mein Kampf Burger is people!!!"

#4. "I'll have the vegetarian plate."

H/T: Little Green Footballs

All About Gwennie

It was Gwennie's birthday yesterday. She turned seven. We took her to Build-A-Bear where she decided on a white rabbit which she dressed meticulously. She named her Moze. I don't know where she came up with that name. When I asked her about it, she said she'd heard it on a movie. When I asked what movie, she told me that was classified.

The child makes me laugh harder than anyone else in the world. She is so full of mischief and fun that it is very difficult to discipline her when she needs it. And take my word for it that she needs it. She is so supremely confident. I never see her hesitate for even a moment. It is like pulling teeth to get her to admit she's wrong about something, but when she finally does, she does it in a way that makes you think she's doing you a favor. She lied about something the other day and looked at me so honestly that I almost believed her inspite of overwhelming evidence against her. It was only when I threatened to keep both her and Emma in their rooms until they told the truth that she admitted it to me. And in such a way! "Mommy, well I actually did do that, but it was an accident and I forgot that you told me I wouldn't get in trouble if I just told the truth." *smile*

But when she's happy she's like sunshine. The world is her friend and there isn't a thing she won't bend over backwards to do for you. She'll be the greatest help and the boldest defender to the point that you'll reflect on the argument you had with her a few hours ago and wonder if it wasn't somehow your fault.

But she's a love. No question. And I frequently wonder what good I ever did that made her a part of my life. I can only conclude that it was sexually related, but it seems inadequate.

One Time, At Fat Camp

I am fat. It is unmistakable. I never weigh myself except in moments of complete, self-loathing insanity, one of which occurred two days ago at my parents house where they own a scale. I am not going to tell you what it said, but suffice it to say that I have never weighed more in my life. And I believe I have put on 20 or 30 lbs since I started blogging. Not that I hold blogging responsible, although it probably is.

So I must start losing it. I want to lose 35-40 lbs total. Since I am on the tall side of average and I have big boobs, I don't feel as if I have to be a size 6. But I would like to wear pants and not look like a penguin. And I don't want to have to shop at Lane Bryant. I am borderline right now and I don't want to fall over the precipice. It's very tempting to shop at a store where you fit into the smallest sizes instead of the largest. And once you go Lane, you're never the Same. Feel free to use that one. Also, please feel free to weigh in (pun intended and you can use that one too) with any advice. Is there anyone who has needed to lose weight and found a delicious/efficient way to do it?

Needing to lose weight, clean house, finish real estate classes, and plan a birthday party on top of having a cold that refuses to give up is very depressing. And I have an upset stomach from the pounds of snot I have inadvertantly swallowed for nearly two weeks now. Incidentally, I wonder how many calories are in snot?

I do not recommend having sex after you watch The Apple Dumpling Gang because when you finally, FINALLY have an orgasm, you feel really, really dirty.

Sick Again

This is the third time this summer that I've been taken down by an airborne illness. It does not feel good. I can't talk which is very upsetting. But not being able to breathe is the more pressing concern. I also fear my nose will be nothing but wriggling, exposed cartiledge by the time the illness has run it's course.

But Jethro is the one I feel truly sad for. His very first referral has prostate cancer that metasticized to his spine and he had to tell him. Jethro says chiropracters can go their whole careers without seeing anything like that but that he has seen three such cases since he's started working. So gentlemen, please allow a certified medical representative to stick his or her fingers in your assholes every so often. I know it isn't pleasant, but it can save your life and your wives may find it kinky on the retelling. Or maybe that's just me.

Anyway, I am going to have some gruel and feel sorry for myself for a little while before I go to bed. Cheerio and I'll see you on the upside.

Cocksuckah!!

Sorry the posting has been so light. I've gone into what appears to be a summer slump.

But I did want to write about Deadwood - HBO's serial extension of Tombstone - one of my favorite movies ever. Jethro and I have been renting Deadwood from the video store because we're too cheap for anything but basic cable. The sad thing is that we are probably spending more money to rent the stupid series than it would be to pay for HBO for three or four months. That is, however, irrelevant.

The first thing I must say is that I enjoy the series greatly. That being said, I am now going to skewer it mercilessly.

The writing style, while well thought out and very provocative, is terrible. Everyone speaks exactly the same way with only elevated use of "fuck," "cunt," and of course "cocksucker" to help us distinguish between the schoolteachers and the whores, the exception being the Chinks...er excuse me...the Celestials. I just wonder how many coal miners really spoke like Fucking Shakespeare.

Now I could grasp the concept of having three or four characters speaking that way. One well-born reprobate with a high intellect and a foul mouth makes for a thoroughly enjoyable cinematic experience (Doc Holliday) and if they limited that type of speech to the educated types, Al Swearingen, and maybe Calamity Jane it might give it more punch. But as it stands, they have set themselves up beautifully for mockery.



The fucking irony for me is that they talk the way I blog.

Fortune Smiles Upon Me

I am not a terribly jealous person. I joke about other women being hotter or more organized than I am, but secretly, waaaaaay deep down I am confident that I have (am? I'm not sure of the vernacular these days) the best poonanny Jethro has ever had or will ever be likely to get. I say this with all due modesty. The only thing that ever gets me is when Jethro calls a woman "cute." He can call them hot, sexy, fine, smokin', gorgeous, beautiful, exotic, even fuckable. But cute is mine. It's the only thing I can pull off.

So it was with no small amount of joy that I discovered Jethro's #1 dream girl and celebrity he's allowed to do nasty, nasty things to (if she'd let him) is going to be on Celebrity Fit Club Season 4.

Damned if I don't think Erica Eleniak is the cutest woman of all time and I hate her with an almost religious intensity.

I must say this is even better than when Kelly Lebrock, Jethro's #2 dream girl and celebrity he's allowed to do nasty, nasty things to (if she'd let him and I think would) was on last season. I think Jethro's fuckable celebrity list is getting a little dog-eared. But I like to think that I'm so fucking good, he hasn't thought about other women since the early '90s.

Sick People Make Me Nervous

So you know what's worse than living with a hypochondriac?

Living with a hypochondriac who actually has something wrong with her.

My grandmother (visiting from NY) went to the emergency room last week for a bladder infection. While she was there she had a fake allergic reaction to some antibiotic then legitimately had a mild heart attack.

After every test known to man at the insistence of relatives who would rather make demands from 3,000 miles away instead of actually carting their spoiled asses down here to help care for their mom, it was decided that she would need an angioplasty.

To complicate matters in ways that seem to be unique to my family, a vicious stomach bug laid out me, Gwennie, two of my sisters, and my mom. Not receiving the proper attention due to the fact that everyone was retching over their respective toilet/salad bowls, my grandmother proclaimed everyone Deserters of the Ill in Their Hour of Need and said she hoped she died.

I was better by the time Procedure (notice I do not say Operation) Day rolled around. I went to the hospital to see her. I arrived there at 10:35 am and did not leave until the following evening during which time I got the once over by a clergyman with balloons; fielded 42 phone calls from various relatives one of whom actually had the nerve to yell at me for trying to convince my grandmother to sign a release for the doctors to do an emergency bypass if it looked like death was imminent (she refused to sign); valiantly attempted to translate my grandmother's vague kvetching into actual useful information for the doctors and nurses; found a secret waiting room with free real coffee; attempted to sleep on a waiting room sofa while a soon-to-be-bereaved family had a jubilant reunion right next to my head; raped, cut off ears, cut off heads, taped wires from portable telephones to human genitals and turned up the power, cut off limbs, blown up bodies, randomly shot at civilians, razed villages in fashion reminiscent of Genghis Khan....

Where was I?

Oh yeah.

While there are many blog-entries I could squeeze out of the past few days, the funniest was the soon-to-be-bereaved family in the waiting room. It was around 3 am, and I was attempting to sleep a little. A sudden heart attack victim had been brought up to the ICU amid much commotion and accompanied by a vast family. Two somewhat aged gentleman who obviously hadn't seen each other in awhile decided to establish themselves right in front of the only person in the waiting room who was trying to sleep. Me. This is the story that brought me to consciousness:

"There I was trying to eat my dinner in peace when this girl, she must have been Puerto Rican got a call on her cell phone. She talked and talked and talked so loudly I couldn't hear myself think. This went on for almost 10 minutes. And I couldn't even taste my food. Finally I just stood up and went over her and said, "You sound just like a Puerto Rican chicken."

The man beamed as he laid this priceless one-liner on everyone.

"...And boy was she mad. She put down the phone and yelled at me for about 3 or 4 minutes and I just stood there. Finally she walked out."

I started chuckling in my sleep. I thought I had dreamed the whole thing. Comedians joke about situations like this, but you never believe they actually happen in a way that doesn't need to be exaggerated for effect. I still wanted to eviscerate him, but I woke up happy. They, however, were quite sad only a few short hours later and I felt a little guilty for my thoughts of violence.

So now I'm staying with my grandmother in a hotel near my house until we are sure the stomach bug has been defeated. After that, seeing as how I have no husband and children and I abhor sexual intercourse of any kind, she will probably end up moving in with me.


Feeling Like Every Nerve Has Been Pounded With A Jackhammer, But Ever Yours Truly,

Zelda

Update on Zelda's Whereabouts

Zelda wanted me to let everyone know that she is staying with her grandmother. She just got out of surgery for her heart and is doing quite well. She asked for Zelda to stay with her and help her out for a few days.

Zelda tells me she's got lots of stories for everyone to masturbate to while choking yourself with a necktie when she gets back to posting.

Jethro out...or back to work.

The Daily Grind

SUPPORT THE TROOPS

I am leaving that link up until it's over.

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I have been cleaning my house almost nonstop for the past week. It is looking better. Not great, but better. It now has less of a meth lab quality and more of an insane asylum dormitory feel. I am so much happier now that I can see my feet when I walk. Actually, that isn't quite true. I haven't seen my feet since I was fourteen.

The downside to all of the hygiene is that I have developed hives on the palms of my hands. I think I'm allergic to some cleaning agent. Who would have thought I actually had a medical excuse for my sloth? But seriously. My hands look like a Divine Punishment for masturbation. But I admit nothing.

SUPPORT THE TROOPS

No keyboard yet. After all that, Jethro forgot to leave me his laptop. It's ok though. I got some too.

I figure I'll cut and paste the missing letters for right now. If I miss a few, you'll know why.

I am so excited. I was on the Pat Gray morning show on AM 950. He was nice enough to let me announce a victory rally I am holding to thank the troops for their service. I've never planned anything like it and I have no idea how to get the word out. I was lucky enough to get on Pat Gray, but it was at 6am and I have no idea how many people heard me. If anyone has any ideas, I'd be ecstatic to hear them.

Here is the email I sent out in case anyone who reads this is interested in going.

We will be holding a rally in support of our troops at on Saturday, July 29, 2006 starting at 2:00pm

The proprietors of Jack's Roadhouse (Dixie Farm Rd @ Hwy 3 across from Ellington Field) have agreed to host the event. Our PW group is heading it up and Pat Gray (the morning talk radio host) has agreed to announce it.

As of right now, I am trying to enlist speakers and anyone with any DJ skills/MC skills. I thought we might do an almost open forum in that anyone who would like to speak could submit a sample and be approved for a 5-10 minute speech. The only thing is that it can't be too political in nature - in other words, don't shill for a candidate and keep the message positive and articulate.

I also need anyone with any crafty-like skills to help with making banners and doing decorations for the event.

But mostly we need people to be there. That is the most important thing.

You can find the link to Jack's Roadhouse here. There will be a link on the page that goes directly to information on the event. I'm so excited about this, and I really hope we can get a good turnout. If anyone from the Greater Houston area wants to announce/link the event on their blogs, I would be most grateful.

My keybord is broken nd I'm missing very importnt vowel. There is much I would like to respond to nd write bout, but s you cn see, I'm hving difficulty. Jethro might let me borrow his lptop. But I won't be ble to post until fter the blow job.

And It Burns, Burns, Burns...

Did I ever reveal that Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" was playing in my head when I gave birth to Emma? I didn't have an epidural.

Two years ago, I decided that I was now ready to be married. Luckily I already was, so there was no need for anything fancy. Now I've decided that I want children. Not that I didn't want the other two, but I had very little say in the matter. Emma was actually a greater shock than Gwennie.

I don't have a biological clock, thank goodness. I'm pretty much sure that I will be fertile well into my forties. Possibly my 50s. My family seems to be Natural Born Breeders. That's a good thing though because along with the personality disorders comes great genius and low productivity. Just the kind of person society needs, and I insist upon doing my share which should be at least four when all is said and done.

Just Call Me One-Trick Pony (or would it be a one-pony trick?)

Jethro and I were at our friends' house a couple of months ago trying to decide which movie to watch on HBO. Not finding anything, we decided to browse the porn titles and their accompanying descriptions. If you have a chance to do that, I highly recommend it. I haven't laughed that hard in ages.

On a whim we decided to watch a documentary of sorts detailing among other things a pussy-eating seminar (ovular?) managed by two (fat and hairy) lesbians, and a swinger orgy/campout for, and I quote the outhouse dwelling redneck verbatim, "people who like to camp and people who like to fuck."

The seminar was pretty much just a bunch of fat people watching some gal get eaten out. Boring. The juice, so to speak, was in the redneck swinger orgy-in-the-woods.

I must say I've never been what you could call an environmentalist. I'm more of a conservationist, but I don't think trees have feelings or anything like that. Nevertheless, as I viewed four naked rednecks writhing wildly in a sex swing they'd hung between two trees, I couldn't help but wonder what those poor woods had done to deserve such defilement.

There was a hot tub full of naked uglies and after watching a stringy-haired housewife get rocked by a chubby-bottomed housewife and her cowboy-hatted cabana boys, I came to the conclusion that there is no need to even debate the morality of this. Something this ugly can't be right.

The rain is getting to me.

If I were to actually attempt to recall the event, I don't think I could. The memory returns when I least expect it. A moment of tension during a movie. A certain type of tile. Leaving for the airport when it's still dark. Flashing lights in the sky.

Any one of those things bring back The Memory.

Oddly enough, it's not a bad memory. It's exciting. Something is Happening.

I see myself after I've died being handed the story of my life as if were a puzzle inside a giant eggshell. I'll crack it open, lay it out and all the pieces will be there. That thought is as satisfying as peeling paint off a cracked door.

Happy Fourth Y'all

Strangely enough, it's the words of a Brit that have caught my attention today.

"Faced with a complete beast like the late Abu-Musab al-Zarqawi, who has been trying to kill us for several years, millions of Americans appear to believe that he only appeared in Iraq because in some way we made him upset. Well, even if this was true — which it is not — it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. (What would you say to a policy that made him contented, instead?).

Thus, for a Fourth of July message, I would suggest less masochism, more confidence on the American street, and less nervous reliance on paper majorities discovered by paper organizations.

Happy Independence Day."

~Christopher Hitchens
July 4, 2006




























































"Never in the history of the world has any soldier sacrificed more for the freedom and liberty of total strangers than the American soldier.

And, our soldiers don't just give freedom abroad, they preserve it for us here at home.

For it has been said so truthfully that it is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press.

It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech.

It is the soldier, not the agitator, who has given us the freedom to protest.

It is the soldier who salutes the flag, serves beneath the flag, whose coffin is draped by the flag, who gives that protester the freedom he abuses to burn that flag. "

~Zell Miller
September 1, 2004
Republican National Convention

H/T: Michelle Malkin and Little Green Footballs