Occupation?

I love our armed forces. I am grateful that they put themselves in danger every waking moment so I can walk down my street and get coffee and buy shoes. Our Men and Woman are valuable to me.

However occupation in dangerous areas. Do we want to be occupied? If we were another country, for perspective sake, would we want to be occupied? We are big bad America. We are seen by some as a haven. We are seen as others as a demonstrative beast. To post our men and woman in areas that have been in small wars and confrontations for centuries, we are overstepping because of our ego. I am not saying lets turn a blind eye. I am saying lets make our presence known but lets not post there permanently because it just makes us look even worse. We go in and occupy and you wonder why so many power players find us a threat. We want to protect and stand for justice in areas that have none; but what if by occupying we are overlooking situations that will become worse when we leave.

Advertisements

What does and American look like?

I’m sorry if you wanted a clear description of an American. They don’t have stripes. They don’t wear an I’m an American pin.

Look around at the cultures that have mixed together.

Look around at the ethnicity that you are.

Look at your friends.

Just look around.

You will see that when you finally shut your mouth about what an American is, and use your eyes. Your brain will click on and find:

“American is an idealism not a person”

Abortion why is this topic taboo?

I have one thing to say on abortion:

 

“It is a difficult thing to talk about abortion; no matter who is speaking of it, or thinking about it. Opinions are sacred to that of the person who hold it. It is personal. We are talking about killing life. It is life. We are mammals. It has a cord and it feeds on nutrients of the mother. It is alive. To kill is a sin. In some instances Families not only loose the child, they loose the mother as well due to complications. In extreme instances it is not for me or you to say what someone should do. We do not hold the god card to force or persuade. It is the individual’s decision and unfortunately we have lost sight of this. Through debates and religion. Culture and upbringing.  We force our opinions where they have no purpose being. So as for now, Abortion to me is not a taboo subject. Should a woman be forced to have a child from a rapist. Its her choice. Incest? Her choice. Should thirteen year olds be able to make a decision. I believe so. Life is beautiful, sacred even. But woman are “Sacred creators“. Woman have the beautiful ability to create life and bring life. And especially now this day in age when we do not live in caves and clans. So why should our opinions shell someone else’s decision. “

Give me your tired and poor

What ever happened to, “Give me your tired, your poor. Your huddled masses yearning to break free?”

The question is not weather or weather not to limit immigration. The question is how do we accept immigration while looking at the terms? Immigration has been handled poorly over the last hundred years. Looking back to Ellis Island, We slaughtered names. We under paid them. We forced them to live in squalor and depravity in “neighborhoods” built to accommodate them with their friends and family and culture.

Now the question is, “Open borders?”

Open is too loose a term. We think ” Oh great just anyone can come in now.” But really America is a “Melting pot“. This term is absolutely perfect when talking about so called open borders. Look at America as a whole. We are a strange amalgamation of every culture you can think of. We are the “Land of the free and the home of the brave.” But we are not looking at our own society. We have rapists and murders; no problem we just trial them and lock them up. We sentence them to lethal injections. The truth is we are more focused on the what if they are killers? What if they are linked? What if they rape and murder my family. Look around we would rather trust our neighbor down the street, than some poor soul that has no where to go. Will they need work? Yes! Will they need food? Yes! Will they want acceptance. Duh!

The issue is not open, or closed. The issue is tolerance and implementing our terms. They know that they are being monitored. If they break statutes we set in place for their accommodation, than its deportation or trial by jury. We should extend our rights to those who seek them. If we pride ourselves on being fair and just than maybe we should apply that beyond our own lives. We are a selfish people who dare to use freedom as a shield.

Threesomes help u learn about yourself

Recently answered an add request on Grinder. The man in the pic was hot .. I mean very hot. So I responded.

My usual face pic..(not safe but real) than my usual body shot in a bath towel. I’m used to hey sexy. Looking good. Not OMG I know you. He explained he was watching TV (porn) and touching himself. Knowing the man I didn’t mind accepting a request to go over.

Walking up to the house I felt like it was gonna jump out and get me. No lights. Motorcycles in the driveway. He was a chainsaw murderer. A red door opened. The man was beautiful but wearing fishnets. Okay I said to myself not so bad. Be opened minded. I knew his girlfriend.

Cards against humanity with a twist( and I don’t mean his fishnets). Losers of each hand pick a strip of paper with a dare. Five minutes alone in a closet , reminded me of middle school. Turned into me blind folding his girlfriend and using a vibe on it…it wasn’t bad..but it was utterly bizarre .

Moral: you never know yourself until you’ve been in a threesome involving a card game and a sexy man in fishnets. 

*note to self: next time just masturbate. 

Muscle Morality

muscleThis entry starts like a few others do, “Grinder”. In an age of Social Media, I have found that it is easier to have an ego and crudely insult some one, or a group of people for that matter. Social media acts as a buffer between the insulted and the insulter mainly because they can post back and forth. This blows up and other people jump into the conversation.

I bet the man above is super sexy when he has all his skin. His muscle patterns suggests he eats right, works out regularly, and I hope moisturizes. This man, who has no name, is a self centered egoist who has no problem insulting other people on social media.

I am not over muscular, but I am far, far from fat. He told me that I was not his type because I was too hairy, and needed to loose weight.

Back up that bus!

I responded, “I am 150 lbs. I eat right. I happen to be an odd mix of middle eastern and Prussian; so shaving is easier said than done. I am so glad that you live in a gym because quite frankly you have to have something considering you have just shown me the lack of brain you have to think with. Thank you for being a self centered egoist, and I hope your libido wanes very soon so everyone leaves you.”

This may have been over the top, but he promptly logged off “Grinder”. This got me thinking; if people can easily dismiss someone they don’t like, than why does no one talk to anyone outside on the streets. Are they possibly scanning silently, hoping to see someone they know from the app?

Moral of the story:

If they are pre-screening on the street, than I am in serious trouble.

 

There was nothing in the space

Once upon a time there was a very happy couple. They dined

together. They went to the mountains together. They lived in ecstatic bliss for eight months. One man, who had ginger like qualities, started to give his partner space in his house. First a drawer. Than two drawers. One day he said, “I have a surprise for you.”

To his astonishment the ginger had cleared a space in the closet for him. He felt apprized at the situation and started leaving clothing in the closet. The ginger had friends. They were all aspects of different. They were all judgmental of the gingers boyfriend. They filled his head with scenarios of deceit, and cheating.  One day the bliss shattered into a million pieces. The ginger accused him of not loving him. Porn was the culprit.

For two whole days the ginger said nothing. The ginger never called. He had silenced all communications. One day the ginger called and gave his x-boyfriend 30 minutes to collect all his possessions. First the boy had a flat tire. Than had to stop for gas. by the time he made it to ye old firestone, Colorado all of his things had been boxed up and placed on the front lawn.

On the porch was the ginger, drinking  mimosa’s with the neighbor as the x-boyfriend placed everything in his mother’s car. As they finished packing, there was no room for the x boyfriend. He had to walk from Firestone to Longmont and it was eight five degrees outside.

Periodically the ginger would drop other things off to the x-boyfriend. He noticed he no underwear, and the jeans that made his but look amazing were gone as well. Months went by and the x-boyfriend had forgotten about his jeans. Until one day, the front desk phone rings at the hotel where he worked.

“Are you working?” asked the gingers familiar voice.

He had brought all his underwear and jeans back. He didn’t say a word as the x-boyfriend carried the box inside. Lifting the lid he found everything nicely folded. With out wasting time he threw everything into the industrial washing machine; he wasn’t going to be too careful. At the bottom was his touch I-pod. the screen was shattered, and it had been backed over by a car; tire impressions on the back. He decided not to tell the ginger; and if he ever asked he would say, “What I-pod? There was no I-pod.”

Moral of the story:  You can give a man space in your life, and say you want him there, but can you trust that space?jeans

Hello My name is……….

telephone This lovely lady, whose name is Johnna, is completely and totally irrelevant.

Hi! I have deformed adenoids. That is what I tell people when they ask, “Why do you sound like that?” On a weekly basis I am mistaken for someone who doe snot exist. If you haven’t guessed it I sound like the stereotype of “The Nanny”; even more so on the phone. My  inflections add a feminine touch to my already high pitched voice. I regularly make fun of my own voice; It is not a mans voice.

I have answered the phone and been addressed as: Sweetie, honey, darling, sexy, dear, sweet thing just to name a few. When they come in they always ask, “Where the girl go?” To which I say we did a shift change.

My favorite scenario is this:

“Hello, thank you for calling ________; How may I help you?”

“Yes hello I would like to make a reservation.”

Than I continue being “polite” adding inflections and sounding like I actually care about someone named Mable who forgot to make this reservation, and we end with:

“What did you say your name was?”

“John.”

“Well, Johnna I look forward to seeing you when we arrive.”

Last week at my second job, a man ordering cakes actually thought he had misheard me and addressed me as Johnna. I turned to my manager and said,

“When a man calls asking for Johnna just say she’s doing dishes.” I mean heaven forbid I offend, or embarrass him by pointing out I am not a female. Maybe I should take up an after hours hotline and say I’m candy.

Moral of the story: Acceptance brings contentment.

Craft “Herpes” & The Holidays

glitter

When I see glitter I think, “Sparkle, sparkle.” This phrase of course is said in the waning gay  man lisp; while I do a dance routine from “Mamma Mia” in an off Broadway vibe. Hello I am gay in this lifetime. You  may be thinking, well gay equals lots of body glitter and sparkling ponies. NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Stop the bus, and back up over the dead unicorn.

Glitter is the bane of my existence. It may look pretty, but it has been deemed “Craft Herpes.” No, not by a doctor, but by children of Midwest housewives. Among the bio degenerates of the 2016 generation there are things that the holidays have done that isn’t so cheery. One of them is having to wrap a decoration in plastic packaging  because of the glitter content. When I think of Christmas, I think of silicosis.

The modern day vs. the past consists of dough in a tube. The almighty “Slice ‘n’ bake” has saved so many tragic housewives from hours spent with their screaming children. These woman spend their husbands money and get their nails done. They love pre-made holiday food and lying about the lifestyle. They salivate over a pre-made cheese platter from the grocery store, and always go to families homes because they have cigarette burns on their furniture. If you think I am being unfair, try looking at the children I went to high school with. They have become the epitome of tragic chic. They complain about their husbands. The husbands get drunk to forget about their screaming progeny. The woman eat, eat, eat and just adore glitter.

So when you see glitter, you may be thinking “Pretty!” I on the other hand am thinking poor tragic souls. The amount spent has become more popular than family memories. Children cry all the time because we have spoiled them and now we all have centered our selves around gift giving.

Moral of the story: All that is shiny, comes with a realistic stigma. It may look amazing on the outside, but on the inside it is really cold and desolate. I think I might give a box of glitter and watch as your kids spread the Christmas joy around in your carpets. I will be doing so with a laugh and a martini. Ho! Ho! Ho!