Jane's Thinking Pattern

Straight from the Mental Asylum: Major Parkinson Review

2008-09-18T11:35:00.000-07:00

History has taught us that Norway is famous for the Vikings with their iron helmets, skins and rough cloth, lice and intelligently designed ships. The Vikings pillaged, murdered and raped throughout most of Europe wreaking havoc on those in their path. The English often chanted "Deliver us, God, from the rage of the Vikings".

Yet, out of Norway, comes a band unlike anything you've quite heard. Perhaps, the new mantra should be "Deliver us God, from the likes of Major Parkinson"! The group is taking the region by storm with their self-titled debut release "Major Parkinson".

Much like the Vikings, Major Parkinson has set forth on a journey to conquer the world with their music which thankfully, holds no boundaries! Personally, I can't wait for their voyage which is destined to lead to victory. Why? The album is insanely first-class and offers a breath of fresh air in an industry where pushing 'butt-rock' over the airwaves appears to be the norm. For an eccentric music enthusiast, diversity of sound caters to my ears and renews my belief that there are still bands out there that covet multiplicity. It's about damn time!

This Norwegian quintet is definitely peculiar and has been categorized as Pop/Rock/Alternative. Luckily, I don't quite think they quite fit that pigeon- hole though. Elements of surf, punk, disco and even folk reign throughout the album. The lyrics are unusual yet thought provoking leaving the listener to ponder over the twisted thoughts of the singer/songwriter. What the hell is he thinking?

If the songs themselves aren't weird enough, the videos and live performances are strangely inimitable. Perhaps, this is why Major Parkinson has received notoriety for their shows in Norway. It's almost like Tim Burton got a hold of the band and submersed them in his abnormal world.

Major Parkinson - 197

A delightful treat for your ears, unlike the 80's sensations, a-ha, that Norway sent us in the past. Much like the actual Parkinson's condition, the band could be said to attack your nervous system and leave you shaking uncontrollably.

Want to know more about this band? Check them out at: http://www.myspace.com/majorparkinson. Their album is out on iTunes, and I definitely recommend snagging it.

Rock the Vote-- Dirrty Girl Style

2008-06-26T14:18:00.000-07:00

Remember when Madonna did it the early 90's by wrapping herself in the American Flag for their very first PSA?

Ten years later, Snoop Dogg joined the movement and launched the bus tour which traveled across the country registering voters and educating youth on the issues that affect them daily. Countless other recording artists and actors have made their contributions by sharing in the mission and mobilizing young US voters to become involved in their future. Now, Christina Aguilera has stepped up to deliver the message during such a crucial election year for Rock the Vote.

Following suit with Madonna, the pop star used Old Glory in the announcement but took things one step further. She swaddled her baby in an American flag for their kick-off public service announcement which has obviously left people talking and blogging about that controversial image. Personally, I don't find this measure offensive, but apparently, many people think it's disgraceful and warrants a review of flag rules. Honestly, I'd rather see a baby wrapped in a flag opposed to one draped over Madonna's used body anyday. (No offense Madonna, but that image still leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth especially after watching Truth or Dare.)

Seriously though, whether it's Christina or regular Jane Doe off the street featured in that particular PSA, the marketing concept for the Rock the Vote ad has stirred up some dust and big debate. For me, a baby blanket represents warmth, security, and care. If we combine that with a mother swaddling her child, it creates a powerful visual of love, protection, and hope for the future. Actually, it's a feeling that I can relate to our country, its institutions, and traditions. Now, if the flag would have been utilized as a diaper or burp cloth, then I would be outraged by the unflattering image.

Don't get me wrong though. I think it's a bold concept and could seriously care less if Christina Aguilera and her child want me to vote. Hollywood has never influenced my political views one way or the other. Then again, I'm not quite in that young voter category anymore so the PSA doesn't affect me much. Yet, I commend Rock the Vote for sustaining their effort for nearly two decades and being creative with their mission. After 18 years of intersecting music, people, culture and politics, Rock the Vote has definitely achieved brand recognition and created a platform that lays the groundwork for an even more powerful organization in 2008 and beyond.

STD Warning

2008-06-24T22:55:00.000-07:00

Lovebirds, Tommy Lee and the buxom blonde skank, Pamela, have reunited once again. Imagine that? Isn't this like the 100th time they've rekindled their STD's.. oh I mean Love?

When I heard this a couple weeks ago, I instantly wondered if her recent husband, Rick Saloman's, love stick had even cooled down yet. Damn, Pam! That woman has bounced around more than real boobs on the set of Baywatch.

Eventually, this constant partner swapping and unprotected sexual escapades are bound to create a new airborne spread VD. Trust me! SoCal better watch out ... Thankfully, I live in Northern California which is quite a distance from Los Angeles so I'm safe from having to wear a Hazmat suit or Gas Mask (just yet).

With the current state of the world, the news of their reconciliation should fall on deaf ears due to the lack of importance. However, I'm guilty of finding pleasure in this drama-- perhaps because it's mindless entertainment, and I have no life. Or, maybe because they're relationship woes are similar to a real life version of Luke & Laura from my General Hospital days. Who knows, but it's pretty comical.

I hope it works out for them and their little boys though. Tommy told Rolling Stone Magazine that the boys are happy when they're parents are together. Duh, man! I'm sure your children have endured their fair share of "meet your new daddy" experiences, dumbass. Of course, they're happy to see their parents together. What a moron!

Then I started thinking.... how old are those kids now-- like 12? Uh oh. They're just a few years away from discovering the infamous sex tape. Mouse click.. Mouse click.. Holy Crap...

Tommy and Pammy better schedule the counseling sessions right now. Those kids are going to spend a lifetime on the shrink couch.

Ranting ala Jane

2008-06-19T21:32:00.000-07:00

six piles of dog shit... i counted them.. there's only six piles.

so, what gives the right to some rude couple that vacations in the house next to me-- maybe 3 times a year-- to badger me about dog crap in MY yard AND tell me that i should work in my yard before they come back?

uhhh.. extended middle finger to you assholes .. compliments of sweet jane.

i've always been told to respect my elders. so, naturally, i didn't respond with something sarcastic or rude in return. i didn't even explain that i had no time or desire this week to freeze my ass off in the SNOW and work in my yard. but, i'm really tempted to shovel those 6 piles and throw them right on the manicured grass of that vacation home.... that assholes will be compliments of our dog - Scooter.

now, i don't mind stupid people.. because you can't fix stupid. but, blatant rudeness drives me absolutely nuts. here's my thought on that....you have a choice when you interact with society, and if you choose to be a total ass candle to your fellow man or woman, you immediately rank high on my shit list. considering the number of jerk stains that i've encountered lately, that list is growing by the minute.

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obviously, rudeness seems to be multiplying lately and if i attempted to write a blog about each experience, i'd end up with carpal tunnel for sure. in short, here's my vent for now:

****people can't you manage a cordial wave of thanks when I'm forced to slam on my brakes and wait for your fat ass and 20 illegitimate kids to jay walk right in front my truck? i don't give a shit if you have the right away or not...how hard is it to wave or nod in acknowledgement that my brakes work, and you're thankful I didn't take out part of your Cash Aid check by running over a few of your munchkins? instead, you give me that "yeah you better stop, bitch" look.. ok.. two words for you "parent of the year"... CROSSWALK & CONDOMS!

**** then, there are those people who can't say "please or "thank you". is it me or are these two phrases the cornerstones of a civilized society? did your mother actually forget to teach you the importance of these words? a simple acknowledgement that i held the door open for you would be nice--do I look like your personal doorman or something? i bet you'd have something to say if i let the door close in your face and knock out your other THREE teeth.

**** oh and people that repeatedly interrupt when others are talking irritate me. look, we all do it occcasionally, and i know sometimes it's difficult to contain your thoughts until the other person is finished talking. but, when you consistently interrupt me in the middle of a conversation, you're rude and deserve to be ball gagged! seriously.

****finally, i can't go on a rant without capitalizing on the soccer moms that annoy me especially during baseball season. there is a reason that i avoid you bottom heavy bitches at games. first off, your child is not GOD and won't play in the MLB after high school, so get over it. if i wanted to hear about how wonderful your bastard of a kid is throughout the entire game, i'd be up in your face talking to you in the same matching stretch pants that you're wearing because you can't fit into anything else. instead, i avoid your Weeble Wobble ass and restrain myself from telling you exactly what i think about your need to live through your child and look down at me.

is it just me or is politeness too much to expect from people anymore?

Rudy Gotz a Big Ole Booty

2008-06-19T21:28:00.000-07:00

Hollywood stars have attemped countless times to make the cross over into the music scene. Actors like Bruce Willis, Keanu Reeves, Kevin Bacon and Jared Leto have jumped on the train so it's not too surprising when I hear of another icon taking the step. What is world coming to when Cliff Huxtable turns in his stethescope for a turntable? The 70 year old will emerge into the music scene and release a hip hop CD set this month called State of Emergency.

I couldn't help but belt out in laughter when I read news about Bill Cosby despite my mad respect for the guy. Come on... Cosby doing hip hop? Isn't this the same dude that has denounced the rap/hip hop lifestyle and pissed off a portion of the black community with his bold statements? What's he going to rap about... Clare licking on his Pudding Pop or maybe Rudy's Got a Big Ole Booty?

As I researched further, I realized what Cosby's mission is with this CD. It makes sense now. He intends on defying the typical profanity theme found in rap music. Instead, Cosby's album will combine comedy with important messages to a hip-hop, rap and jazz soundtrack. One is left to question, can that even be considered rap or hip-hop music though and be taken seriously especially when he's not even going to spit out his own rhymes?

I'm willing to bet Kayne West and my man, Ice Cube, won't be looking over their shoulders for the pressing competition.

Nice concept Bill... but do you really think those you're targeting will even be listening to you and getting the message? I highly doubt it. It's a different generation of youth who watch you and Rudy on Nick at Nite. Unfortunately, you just might be perceived as that old guy on tv that wears those funky sweaters. But, mad props for turning your basement office into a recording studio!!!

Sharing Secrets-Tales from the Studio

2008-06-19T21:19:00.000-07:00

What do you get when you mix a overblown marketing budget, a control freak with a spending habit and an open checkbook? You get a band that was bent over and screwed without any lube by one of the most notorious female record producers in history.

The story goes a little like this.........

The dream of landing a US record deal is shared by many international artists around the world. So, when Australia's powerhouse trio, Cog, received an offer from the infamous producer Sylvia Massy (TOOL, Red Hot Chili Peppers, SOAD, etc) to release their album, The New Normal, on her newly created National Recorder label, they thought that dream was becoming a reality.

Massy also agreed to record their sophomore full length release, Sharing Space, in her Northern California recording studio, RadioStar Studios. They had every reason to believe it would be smooth sailing. This was, of course, the same studio and producer that yielded their successfully stunning debut, The New Normal.

The band spent over ten months overseas working on their new album. However, an unexpected falling-out with their producer made the process increasingly prolonged and extremely awkward. Towards the end of recording, the band was forced to become almost completely self-sufficient.

Unfortunately, the band realized that Massy's, National Recorder Label wasn't up to par in handling the The New Normal release in America. From seeing the warning signs while on their way to play at SXSW last year, Cog pulled out of the record deal.

Vocalist/Guitarist, Flynn Gower, stated "And, that was the trigger that started a deterioration in our relationship, and it continued to deteriorate right up until the time we left. During the last two or three months (of recording), we probably saw her for about twenty minutes in total."

Cog's severed relationship with Massy resulted in the band being relegated to a studio that had been converted out of a garage. The equipment was temperamental; the computer didn't have enough processing power and often failed; and there were crackles in the tracks. If adding insult to injury wasn't enough, the band was juggled with other recording artists who were working simultaneously. This left a bitter taste in the trio's mouth as their recording budget had been overblown, and they had secured their recording slot months in advance.

One could say, waiting for things to happen – and frustration - is the ever present theme of Sharing Space. Despite the adversity and time away from their families, the band members, Flynn Gower, Luke Gower and Lucius Borich, maintained a mutual commitment to their music and level-headed sense of professionalism about the job at hand.

There is no denying Cog's time spent in the US played an integral and positive role in the making of 'Sharing Space'. Although the road was long and painstaking, the album is a testament to their perseverance and creative synergy. It debuted at #2 in Australia upon release and is gaining momentum as the band is currently on tour.

Who knows, perhaps you'll gain another 'legitmate' chance in the United States. In the meantime, remember karma is a mutha and all good things come to those who wait.

Great work boys!

For more information, on these progressive rock wonders, check out: www.myspace.com/cogrockmusic or cog.com.au.

Transcending....

2008-04-08T16:20:00.001-07:00

When A Perfect Circle's, Thirteenth Step album was released, I couldn't wait to buy a copy. The buzz around the album was that it was about addiction hence the album's name. There's always been a sense of mystery surrounding frontman, Maynard James Keenan, which he inflicted years before through his band, Tool. So, in my mind, one can never be too sure about the actual meanings of any of his songs or theory behind his albums until they hear it for themselves.

I always listen to any music with a completely open mind and enjoy finding my own interpretation. I think that's the beauty of music as an art form. You develop a connection with a song and relate it to your life which leads to a stronger appreciation for the gift.

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It's no mystery that I haven't had the greatest fortune with the opposite sex throughout my life. I married at the young age of nineteen, and divorced by the time I was twenty-six. After the divorce, the dating scene left much to be desired and consisted of one failed torrid affair after another. No, I wouldn't deem myself as a "man eater" or "promiscuous". Instead, I rationalize it as being just a lost puppy searching for something to fill the void of what was missing from within.

As I look back on my adventures, I realize that my claim to fame could possibly be a novel on the dating debacle, and the ‘winners' that I've shared time with over the last ten years though.

Anyway....

After ending one of these fruitless relationships, I took a trip to the Bay Area which always brightens my spirits for a moment. There's something about San Francisco that instantly warms my heart and frees my soul. Unfortunately, that feeling of peace is always time bound and fades once my car leaves the city. Nevertheless, this particular trip was more than indispensable to me as I honestly believed I had broken the pattern by dating this particular guy. (Note: I think we believe what we want to believe in order to validate ourselves and our poor choices.)

While in the Bay, I bought the Thirteenth Step and have forever been grateful for that purchase. As I listened to the songs, I quickly understood the buzz that surrounded the album with connotations of addiction and recovery dressing each song's lyrics. It was during my crossing of the infamous Golden Gate Bridge that I became overwhelmed with the lyrical content and impact of the music especially the closer, "Gravity". This song is simply one of the most brilliantly optimistic tracks ever to grace my ears by APC.

Who would have thought that Maynard's new piece of work would be the medication that I truly needed to free myself of the continual demons and inevitable depression of making the same choices in men? But, it worked and what a journey that ride home was for me! By the time I pulled into my driveway nearly four hours later, I had a different perspective on this conceptual album than what had been previously presented by the whirr of APC fans.

For me, the album exemplifies the concept of loving one's self. The idea of acceptance and embracement resonate throughout the CD and echoed through my ears like a beautiful instrument for implementing change. And, I have indeed made changes in my own life which have undoubtedly led to a healthy and rewarding bond. Thank you, Maynard.

Sometimes, when I've had a rough day or the insecurity demon is lurking around, I throw on my CD and escape into the powerful transcendence of the music.

What's your price for flight?

2008-03-26T12:53:00.000-07:00

It’s been said that we all have a twin out in the world somewhere. But, in 1986, I truly doubt my twin would be in Medford, Oregon – a mere hour from my own hometown. Unfortunately, the concert staff at the Jackson County fairgrounds thought otherwise.

I’ve been a concert junkie since I was eleven years old. And, I’d like to thank my aunt for take me along for the ride at such a young age and opening my eyes to the live performance arena. I'm forever grateful. It was during one of these journeys that my best friend and I would experience something more than just watching big hair and tight jeans gyrate on the stage.

As usual, we arrived early to the venue in order to weasel up to the stage. My aunt was notorious for using my small frame as a ramming rod at shows to get as close to the performers as we could. Although I wasn’t a huge fan of the bands playing, I wouldn’t pass up a concert any day—especially on a school night even if it was Night Ranger and Richard Marx.

During our strategic maneuvering to the front row, my friend and I noticed that the event staff kept staring at us. At first, I brushed it off as they must have admired our windbreaker bangs since we worked so hard on getting enough lift that night. Paul Mitchell’s Freeze was the culprit instead of the cheap Rave that we usually used for school.

As it crept closer to show time, we finally reached the front row and were pressed against the barrier. Of course, my aunt was pleased that once again I was able to push my way ahead of the crowd. But, she became unnerved after noticing the guards peering at us and talking amongst themselves. It was at this point that I realized it wasn’t my sweet hair they were fascinated by.

As the lights dimmed, Richard Marx stepped onto the stage and began to play his first song. I felt the eyes raking us even more than before, and then a commotion arose from behind us.

I took a quick glance behind me to see four huge people with yellow jackets bearing the title “Event Staff” coming our way. Instantly, I was petrified and so was Cyndi. Two of them grabbed us by the arms and demanded us to come with them. My aunt started screaming “get your hands off them. what are you doing…let them go..” The other two guys then directed her to follow.

I still remember “Right Here Waiting for You” echoing in the background as we were pushed out of the crowd with my aunt still cursing at the security guys. We were led up a couple flights of stairs and towards a grey door. Cyndi was already in the room by the time I entered. As the door flung open, she looked back at me and was laughing like a hyena. There sat a couple in their mid-forties with disappointment in their eyes accompanied by a few of Medford’s finest PD officers.

The husband looked up at me and said “No. That’s not her either.” At this point, I demanded an answer for what was going on. Before the officers could open their donut covered mouths, my best friend blurted, “Jane. They think we’re runaways. Isn’t that funny?” At the time, I didn’t find the humor in it and wanted answers. I was furious; the normal shy Jane was lost during the shuffle out of the crowd and the bitch was slowly emerging.

One of the officers showed me a photograph of two girls that bared no resemblance to us whatsoever.

Then, they dismissed us with as much haste as they had removed us from the main floor. When I opened the grey door, I could hear my aunt yelling at the two guards which were blocking the door. At that point, one of the officers howled “Wrong kids” and the security guards started walking off.

The three of us were standing there in disbelief as the show carried on below us. My friend started walking down the steps. I remember saying “Don’t you dare. These people are bringing us right back to where they got us.” My aunt agreed and appeared to like this side of her timid niece. So, I pushed that grey door back open and showed these people my angry side.

Unfortunately, I tend to see red when I’m to that point of anger. So my recollection for what was said is very vague. However, whatever it was must have worked because three of the hooligans that forcefully took us from the crowd walked back up the steps.

With flashlights in hand, we were led right back to the front row next to the barricade, but this time we were not stage right but in the center. Although we missed Richard Marx’s performance (which was no big loss), we made it back just in time for Night Ranger to sing Sister Christian. What a great song; I loved that one. As one would expect, we received a few extra shoves and some really nasty looks from people for being escorted to the front. But, I still had my claws out just in case.

The conversation at school the next day was fun though. And, the memory now kills me as I think back to it. Two girls actually snuck out and ran away to see Richard Marx and Night Ranger!!!

And we wore purple

2008-03-26T12:46:00.001-07:00

It was the battle with our parents that would be the deterrent.

Once we heard that it would be opening in theaters and screening in our little twin peaks-like town, the petitioning to our parents commenced. We both knew that it wouldn't be an easy task but agreed the word "NO" wouldn't stop us! If necessary, we'd pull our first teenage rebellion escapade and run away -- just for a couple hours though-- in order to sneak into the movie theater. Jen and I wanted it THAT badly.

Life was different back then, and both our parents were sternly conservative about their little girls watching such a movie without chaperones. At thirteen, our power of persuasion must have paid off or was it our constant begging? I don't quite remember, but I do remember Jen's parents caved in first which inevitably changed my mom's mind to say yes. A BIG Yes!

The anticipation built with each day that moved closer to that notorious Friday. At school, we bragged to anyone that would listen that our parents gave us permission to go unsupervised. And, at night, we were on the phone blabbering about it to each other. We were just so damn stoked!

Finally, our day to see Prince's Purple Rain had arrived...

My mom dropped us off that summer night with strict instructions about being out by ourselves. I didn't really listen though not because it was my mom nagging, but more because I was astonished by the crowd outside the theater. We were allowed to go to the 7pm showing and would be lucky to get tickets with so many people lined around the city block. So, I gave Mom a quick kiss and secured our spot in line while Jen was still getting out of the car.

The convoy of avid fans slowly moved one step closer to that glass doore door that would surely cure my teenage anticipation. I've always felt proud of being a child of the infamous 80s and remembering back to that long line instantly gives me a warm fuzzy.

After moving like a sluggish herd of cattle, Jen and I finally rounded the corner to see the theater door. I remember we both shrieked and jumped around like a bunch of dorks wearing purple shirts.Â Then, one step forward, and we were at the ticket counter. FINALLY!

To our dismay the old couple (who probably were my age now.. but seemed old.. sigh) in front of us purchased the last two tickets for the 7pm showing. It was like someone sucker punched me right in the stomach as I gasped for air. Quick decision time¦. what should we do? Do we buy the tickets for the 9 o'clock show even though our parents will say NO? Or, do we go use the pay phone around the corner and ask for permission before getting back in line? Yes, the convenience of a cell phone back then would have helped Instead, we stood like there like two scared puppies.

Do it, Jen. "Buy them!" I screeched without thinking of the sure consequences.

So, she did, and we quickly stepped away from the rest of the disappointed crowd. Now, what the heck are we going to do?

At this point, it was time to call the parents and let them know what happened. Into the phone booth I went, since my mom had seen the mass of people and would hopefully understand the situation. She indeed understood that we couldn't get tickets, but damn was she pissed that I had Jen buy tickets for the late showing without asking her first. After several minutes of listening to her scream and taking the punches, she calmed down and granted me permission to wait. I asked her to call Jen's parents and explain. That was a dumb request on my part and prompted her to start lecturing me again. I finally hung up and was relieved. The anticipation of the movie began to light me up again until I realized Jen had yet to persuade her folks.

I remember Jen having an easier time on the phone except she obligated herself to babysitting her siblings the next day as punishment. Poor girl!

Back to the line we went. It was much smaller this time, and we were sure to get a decent seat for the next movie. After sitting there for what seemed like an eternity, it was our time and up to the balcony we ran like kids after an ice cream truck!

Was it worth it?

I learned invaluable lessons that day which helped in my teenage years despite the torture it would place on my parents--- persistence we'll eventually get me what i want with my parents and sometimes, it's better to beg for forgiveness later than to ask for permission in the beginning. Plus, I wouldn't trade that memory for the world!

Over twenty years ago, I loved Purple Rain, although it was pretty lame as far as plot and acting. Jen and I were blown away during the Darling Nikki scene though. Talk about some arousing lyrics and Prince's live performance during that part of the show was just smoking HOT to a young girl.

Plus, it was the first time that I'd witnessed any movie with semi-sexual content. I can see why our parents were apprehensive about us watching it especially when Prince (the kid) cops a feel down under in Appollonia's panties. Wow!

Truth be told, I watch Purple Rain a couple times a year now just to go back in time and relish in my memory of standing in that line. As an adult, I laugh at certain scenes especially at Apollonia's atrocious singing and watching Morris Day in action. It's a great nostalgic trip although my own children don't find it too fascinating.

That thirteen year old glued to her seat was really impressed with the movie and couldn't wait to buy the soundtrack. The music on that album still kicks ass today and is in my opinion, Prince's finest work.

Everyone! Shout out change and believe it!

2008-02-01T07:25:00.000-08:00

If you want 100 more years of the same atrocity in Iraq, then vote for this ASSHOLE.

It's time for America to wake up... even those old conservatives that hang out at my local hardware store. Quit bitching about gas and rising prices and do something about it!

It's never to late to dream... the perfect ballot in my world would contain this campaign: Obama/Clinton.

How bout yours?

Foolish

2008-01-28T08:32:00.000-08:00

During my first year of college, I enrolled in a psychology course at the local junior college. Our first day, the professor initiated a discussion on the general nature of the human race. He proposed an argument to the class based on the premise that people were born evil and did not turn evil. I always had a hard time swallowing the concept despite the controversy of that discussion. There were many valid points of fact brought up that day, yet my personal belief was that humans turn evil and are not born with that thinking.

Recently, I was taken complete advantage of with a work at home scheme which reminded me of that first day of higher education. In this present world, job seekers are searching for that perfect scenario of being their own boss and performing work in the comfort of their home office. Luckily, I have that option in my current 'legitmate' position. However, with the current state of our economy, I set out on a quest to earn extra income and supplement my single family household.

With that, I learned the hard way that people prey on the needs and wants of others more now than ever. It validated my previous feelings of distrust with others. I attempted to follow the senseless training manual from this 'alleged' company. To my dismay, I realized that I was just a catalyst in the disgusting scheme to scam others the same way that I had just been subjected to.

The guilt factor set in and now I'm on a mission to let others know that if it sounds too good to be true, it definitely is. We must not be victims of the predators and call those companies (or individuals) on their activities.

Words of wisdom and lesson learned the hard way.

Rants and Raves - Part 2

2008-01-27T21:44:00.000-08:00

After reading my last blog, I realized that there are more things that irritate me than not. With this, I've decided to continue writing about the little things that unnerve me -- in no particular order of course.

First off, why do people feel the need to point at their wrist while asking for the time? Do I point at my crotch when asking you where the bathroom is? nooo.. but maybe I should just to see your expression...

Next, people who wear pajamas somewhere other than to bed. This is far too common in the town where I live. It's usually a group of girls that are pushing their baby strollers with cigarettes hanging from their mouth. If you're going to wear your pjs and slippers, at least make sure they fit you correctly. There's nothing worse than seeing your backdoor camel toe! G-ROSS!

Then, there's the bathroom talker that fails to follow proper stall etiquette. Here's the deal.. unless you're drunk and with your friends this rule doesn't apply. But, in all other cases, once you or someone else closes the stall door, that means cease your conversation all together. Using a public bathroom is difficult enough for a woman, it only makes it worse to try to carry on a conversation with your chatty ass and simultaneously hover over the throne without urinating on my shoes.

Also, being at a stoplight when some jackass pulls up next to me blaring Nickelback or Hinder really irritates the crap out of me. To make it worse, they turn their speakers up even louder to get my attention despite my attempts to ignore the fact they're next to me in the first place.

Ok buddy.. first off, loud stereos don't really turn me on when I can tell you hooked that system up incorrectly. Second off, you're playing Nickelback for gods sakes. Want to get my attention? Crank up something like umm Tool or Static-X and pay someone to actually install your stereo the right way!

And, finally, trivial discussions with people of little intelligence that talk just to hear themselves speak really annoy me too. You know that type of person (don't lie)... the one that can talk for 45 minutes without taking a breath, saying nothing of true importance and refusing to let you interject at least one thought. By the end of the conversation, you're screaming inside.. JUST SHUT THE F*** UP ALREADY.

Rants and Raves - Part 1

2008-01-26T15:46:00.000-08:00

there is a long list of things that annoy me which has left me to question the validity of past claims that i'm a bitch. thankfully, my family and true friends accept me despite my pet peeves and silly ways.

first off, i have little tolerance for rude store clerks. i'm the first to put someone in their place that is waiting on me. although it embarrasses those with me in the moment (sorry), i expect a certain standard of customer service. i don't care if that person waiting on me is having a bad day-- get over it.

i'll be the first to tell someone they need to change their career path if they're blantantly rude to me or anyone else within my vicinity. i 've even referred a couple clerks to the local employment department because they treated me like shit.. telling them if they don't like what they're doing, get another job. it's that simple.

next, i despise jocks that think they're gifts to this small as town they live in just because they make it in the local paper during sports season. we all know that if you were in an actual city, you'd be like everyone else... just another kid playing sports.

you're not anymore special than other kids that actually treat people kindly and have talents that really matter..... reality is you'll end up at the local junior college as that lil fish in a big pond hanging out in the student center like a loner. or, you'll drive a delivery truck, coaching kids and reliving your pathetic life through a bunch of other brats that will repeat the same patterns. those kids you made fun of and bullied will move away, actually succeed in college and return only to visit and prove their accomplishments. plus, they'll be hot, and you'll have a beer gut from drinking yourself stupid.

then, there's my detest of the soccer type moms that band together and judge the rest of us because we're not 'in' your little group and involved in every facet of our children's lives. i love my boys and teach them to make their own choices in order to be strong adults. being involved is important, but this type of mom takes things to a whole new level.

you're simply just jealous because i can still fit into the same size clothes that i wore in high school, and you rely on sweatpants or shorts year round. plus, your husbands flirt with us other mom's even though we think they are disgusting too. once again, get over it. life is about treating people as you want to be treated. so, it's my assumption that you want me to ignore you, make fun of your oversized walmart shirts and avoid working school events with you as much as possible.

finally, to close my rants for now, why do people find it necessary to give unsolicited advice? if i wanted to hear what you actually thought, i'd ask for your opinion which would mean i really give a shit. this drives me totally crazy! when people actually open up and share their issues with you, most of the time, they just want you to listen, nod your head and say you understand. they don't require a dissertation on how you should fix things or worse yet reconcile your life.

and, people wonder why i'm so private and have issues about opening up to others. you can thank the other countless morons that told me without being asked-- their views on my life. and, these are the same type of people that will ask you if you're sick or tired because you didn't put on enough mascara. there's nothing like feeling great and seeing that 'day ruiner' that finds pleasure in pointing out that you look like shit. i should carry a mirror and ask them to take a gander at their own face. trust me bitches, it ain't purdy!

wow.. ok done for now..
maybe i am just a bitch?!?