Living in the Present

Living in the present is easy when you're in pain or if you have to pee.  That is truly living in the present.  It's a bit harder when you have to do it without your body telling you how to feel. 

What the fuck does that even mean?

Actual Conversations # 2

This is from quite a while back.

Me:  "You know, I think I must have swallowed 18 of your hairs this weekend."

Her:  "Yeah, we like your hustle.  That's why we keep you on the team."

A Timely Line

This exchange actually happened to me the other day.

Cute girl: "Do you meet all kinds of cute girls because they come over and want to pet your dogs?"

Me: "No, but I have slept with a lot of attractive women who have asked me that question."

That makes more sense now.

_49K6655-Edit, a photo by wanderingval on Flickr.

Okay, the fact that it was in response to specific comments from a stupid officer makes more sense. I can't believe that there would be such surprise that so many stupid cops exist. There are some great police officers to be sure but plenty of idiots. The officer at my college who gave a safety lecture back in Boston told the women there that if they are being raped they shouldn't try and fight it because they could get more hurt they should "just lay back and try to enjoy it." WTF?! So I have a better grasp of what the Slutwalk was trying to do but I don't think it really hit the mark.

Boy Slut meets Clothing optional on Slut Walk, Toronto © Linda Dawn Hammond / IndyFoto.com '11
The Slut Walk protest march was held in Toronto on April 3rd, 2011 in response to offensive remarks made by a Toronto police officer during a safety forum at York University’s Osgoode Hall Law School this past January. Constable Michael Sanguinetti allegedly told the meeting that “...“I’ve been told I’m not supposed to say this, however, women should avoid dressing like sluts in order not to be victimized.” (as victims of sexual assault). It was yet another example of blaming the victim for their behaviour rather than that of the perpetrator.

Walk co-founders Heather Jarvis and Sonya JF Barnett addressed the crowd at the start of the march. Barnett explained the provocative decision to incorporate and thus re-appropriate the word "Slut "', which she conceded "... is a strong word with a strong meaning. If we had not used it many less of you would be here today... " The "Slut Walk" dress code did not require participants to necessarily 'dress like a slut', the point being made that to be targetted for rape does not require any particular outfit, let alone a provocative one, on the part of the victim. Nor should wearing clothes designed to attract be considered an invitation to assault. or absolve an attacker of responsibility for their actions.

Hundreds of protesters and supporters, male, female and other, walked from Queen's park to the Toronto Police Headquarters on College Street. Speeches were held at police station by Deb Singh of the Toronto Rape Crisis Centre, Michael Kaufman of the White Ribbon Campaign, Alyssa Teekah, SWTO York Liaison, and Jane Doe, the activist and author who successfully sued the Toronto Police in July, 1998, for failing to warn her about a serial attacker, known as the Balcony rapist, who was operating in her neighbourhood. "Doe" is still under a publication ban and could not be documented.

See the following sites and articles for further information.

SLUTWALK Toronto website
www.slutwalktoronto.com/

Slutwalk Poster

Slutwalk Toronto 055, a photo by JiBs. on Flickr.

If somebody wants to dress like a slut are they feeling like they can't do that because they'll be judged or that it is currently an invitation to sexual advances? Neither of those things are going to change. Nor would many women who dress that way even want them to change.

Slutwalk?

Slutwalk Toronto 043, a photo by JiBs. on Flickr.

You know. I'm not sure I totally get the Slutwalk thing. I realize they're standing up for a woman's right to express herself and wear what they want and not have it be sexualized and make the idea of being a woman who has and enjoys lots of sex a positive thing. I'm for that, but something about it still just doesn't make sense to me. If slut is going to be a positive term don't we still need a word for people who go beyond the bounds of healthy and will literally have sex with anybody? It's hard to remove the idea from outfits that seek to enhance one's sexuality from sexual desire. Nobody is contending that a woman dressing provocatively is an invitation so what exactly are the women marching to draw attention to?

Jury Duty Day 2

It was an interminably long, long time spent watching Ball & Hymen and the defense lawyer voire dire the jury and I had a good story ready that would have biased me and had me dismissed me right off the case.  I never got called into "the box" as they call it, so I never had to use it.  I wish I'd been called right away.  It would have saved me from having to be there the entire time. 

They finally found a jury and I'm not on it.  Thank goodness for that.  Some of the people who are on the jury were rambling idiots and I'd have killed one of them by forcing my sneaker down their throat.  Then I'd be right back in court on trial for murder.

I twittered like a mother fucker during the entire proceeding which is not permitted.  It helped to keep me sane by having conversations with fellow twits.

 

Jury Duty Day 1

I was told "Do not to blog, twitter, face update or tweet about this by the judge.  Myspace is probably okay since nobody reads those anymore, anyway.  It's probably a good place to store secret information.  

So, I went in for Jury Duty.  They sent me the little warning thing in the mail and I figured, what the hell, I believe in the Justice System kinda. It's better than most and a few million people died in part so it could exist so the least I could do was be on a jury.  Plus I could use a short break from Monkey Wrangling.  So I biked down to the courthouse.  It feels very unofficial to ride a bike to court.  I even carried my bike helmet into the courtroom because I didn't want some asshole to steal it or the lights on it.  Yes, I'm a dork with lights on my helmet.  I'll be a living dork so fuck yourself in your facehole if you can't deal.  Sorry, I seem to be a bit self-conscious of my bike helmet fashion mis-statement.

Where was I?  Okay, I go in and wait in the stew room for a while.  They finally send us up to the courtroom and they start to pick random names to sit in the 18 seats from which they voire dire the prospective jurors.  We find out it's going to be a long 3 week case but a rather interesting one.  The plaintiff is a male who is suing his supervisor who is female.  He alleges that she sexually harassed him and that it caused him to suffer emotional grief and stress and he wants to be compensated.  It amused me that the two lawyers for the plaintiff have the last names of Ball and Hymen.  Ball and Hymen contend that their client was sexually harassed.  Or maybe I'm just an adult with the mentality of a 7 year old. 

I go back tomorrow.  I don't think I'll be picked but the lawyers may toss out a few people and I'll get stuck as an alternate or something lousy.  It's interesting but not 3 weeks of my life interesting.  My students might learn something while I'm gone.  I almost wanted to be called so that when they asked me for my background information and family info I could say to the court that I had 20 kids all ages 6 and 7 and each from a different mother.  If they do select me I'm sure I can say something to warrant getting tossed off the jury.  I actually think that it would be really hard to prove sexual harassment from a woman without lots of witnesses.  It's possible, but not likely. 

I'll ramble more tomorrow.

The Neverending Search

Once again I am looking for a new place to live.  Last time I literally fucked up my living situation by drunk banging a roommate's ex and this time I just found an anti-social odd ball.  He actually has a conspiracy theory that I am trying to drive a wedge between him and our other housemate.  "I don't trust you, Matt."  This is because he got drunk and slapped me in the face a few months ago (kinda hard)  I think he was making a point in his alcohol addled brain about being ready for life's surprises as he preached to me about how to live my life.  So then I must have exaggerated the slap in order to drive a wedge between him and my other housemate, who I actually like.  She has social skills and doesn't actively collect the ugliest art possible from thrift stores.  She's moving out because she can't stand him.  I'm just tired of dealing with drama. Drama that is manufactured and exaggerated and sometimes pulled out of thin air.   

So I'm on the hunt for a new and better apartment worthy of the shitload of cash it costs to rent a place in San Francisco.  It may be time to get the hell out of The Mission but I do want to be near work so I can't stray too far.

Wish me luck.  It's fuckin' hard to find a place that's affordable(ish) and doesn't have weird people living in it that's in a neighborhood without crack heads for neighbors.

Things Kranki finds Krass

At Seth's birthday party a few years ago, some strange woman who was a guest of a guest, was checking out some guy at the party. She seemed quite shy until she turned to me, Seth and Craig (guys she'd just met) pointed to this guy and loudly announced. "I'd like to have HIS abortion." Three crass dudes were lightly stunned.

Kranki Words of Wisdom # 1

Great minds think alike... and so do we.
- Krankiboy

Soggy Bottom Boy

Is it wrong to make up a story about how I too once wet my pants in second grade to make a self-conscious, anxious first grader feel better? The other option was to just wet myself there on the spot in solidarity. It may have been a lie, but I'm happy with my choice.

Ring Ring! Obama & Duckie

Ring Ring!

Obama: Yes?

Duckie: Hello, Mr. President?

Obama: Yes. Who is this and how did you get this num---






Duckie: Oh, well, my name is Duckie, I'm a fledgling chicken, not actually a duck... anyway, long story. Look, I called you because I'm worried about the future.

Obama: The future? Anything specific, Duckie?

Duckie: Yes. Sarah Palin. Specifically her approval rating. How can somebody so clueless who helped sabotage the election for Republicans last time be a leading contender for the Oval Office in 2012?

Obama: That's still a long way off and--

Duckie: Mr. P, she has a 70% approval rating among registered Republicans, but she's dumber than a can of baked beans!







Obama: Yes bu--

Duckie: Bammy, I'm farm fresh at only three-weeks old and even I know that she's a female George Bush with a death wish for every edible animal on Earth. She has one hand stroking the Military Industrial Machine's missile shaft and the other hand dipped deep in the pocket of Big Oil. She'll be the nail in the coffin that Bush and Cheney built for our country because her naughty librarian good-looks will give a fat white GOP corpa-rapists a boner the size of Rush Limbaugh's ego.

Obama: That's a rather twisted and bawdy rant for a baby duck isn't it?






Duckie: Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!

Presidude! I'm not a DUCK, I'm a chicken! I just have a bill that resembles-- It's a nickname. Damn, you have me off topic. Look, everybody in the barn is freakin' the fuck out! When we voted you in we thought you'd be kickin' ass and taking names nice and smooth like Billy Dee Williams sipping an ice cold Colt 45. Instead you're screwin' the pooch on this one.

Obama: If you look at the broader picture you'll see that even in a politically divided Congress I've managed to pass historic legislation in the areas of health care, Wall Street reform and the conflicts in Afghanistan and--

Duckie: Dude! You're getting bitch slapped around while taking it in the nads. I may be just a tiny part of America with shell bits still stuck in my downy soft feathers but even I can see that. It doesn't take a goat genius to read a Washington Post poll.

Obama: You may not be the backbone of my constituency but I'd like to address and allay your fears and concerns about the 2012 election. My primary focus at this stage of my first term has been to balance the necessary and triage the damage that the GOP brought on our political infrastructure.  By taking a more centrist position I seek to broaden-

Duckie: Yeah, yeah. Look. They just scattered chicken feed outside the coop soo I'm going to have to jet. Just get your shit sorted, circle the wagons and get it together, boss man.  And get your approval rating out of the toilet. You're the Head Negro In Charge, so act like it already. If you're gonna sit in the Oval office and be the Big O then you'd better start making America feel like it's getting a big O. Ya feel me?

Obama: Duckie. I realize there may be significant challenges ahead but I instead choose to see them as oppor--

Duckie: Opportunities, yeah yeah. I've heard the speech before. Don't make me have to walk to D.C. to give you a swift peck in the ass. That's a long god-damn haul for a flightless bird from San Clemente.






Obama: You have to understan--

*CLICK*

Obama: Hello?... Hello?!... Duckie?

Redonkutardastic

My associate in social media endeavors, Beau Brooks, is redonkutardastic if he thinks I'm going to help him spread his word redonkutardastic.

I told him he'd have more luck spreading the legs of lingerie models than he will that word. Which, if he was a glass half full kind of guy, he would take to mean he'd have tremendous success with both efforts but slightly more luck in making sweet Califonicating with the professional underwearin' ladies.

But really this word is a Hindenburg covered in moose lard covered in kitty litter and even if John Stewart and Will Smith both wore t-shirts with that on it for a month, nobody would use the word.