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Like Abortion for Popsicles

GRRR- getting my rage on about abortion today- just watched something on court tv oooops I mean TRU tv (how precious) about this stupid pro-life terrorist who bombed clinics and shot a doctor– crazy much? I’m still working on my short film about abortion- so far the working title is “Like abortion for popsicles” catchy no? yeah, can you imagine a more tantalizing subject? especially for me bc I’m catholic and if my mother even had a glimmer that I was saying the things I am about to on the subject she would be mortified and I believe a hole really might open up in the floor for her. especially if her brother knew- the catholic indoctrination worked a little bit better on him I guess bc my cousins are not lapsed (gasp) catholics!…I think it was because he had 2 boys and my mom had 2 girls. boys were allowed to be altar boys- I so desperately wanted to be an altar boy growing up I can’t even tell you. when you’re catholic and heavily involved as we were- you were at church ALL day sunday- and yeah I hear you baptists, we didn’t have to go on wed. nights like you but let me just share what my sundays were like… early mass, CCD (sunday school), another mass, then wait around in the hall while mom teaches Sunday school, then lunch in the hall or w/church people all the while wearing UNcomfortable clothes. It was maddening to me really. I would actually try to cultivate friendships based on people’s religious upbringing- just to get out of it- hi, I’m Kim nice to meet you….do you have to go to church on sundays? no? want to be my new best friend? I’m thinking sleepover at your house saturday night- whatdoyasay?

I could literally recite the mass w/the priest at a very young age and would forget which parts were his and which were (mine) ours sometimes — embarrassing to be the only one reciting the mass w/the monsignor — oops= stares and inappropriate laughter. This is why I was always bitter about my cousins being able to be altar boys- at least they got to dress up and do special rituals- I imagine it would pass the time better and I was just green with jealousy– which I knew would just add to my list for confession- never short. I still to this day have a phobia about inappropriate laughter. Often, something would make me laugh (as my eyes scoured the pews) during mass and I would get such a stern look from my mom that it would just fuel the laughter like gasoline. You know when you’re not supposed to laugh and you know it but that very fact makes it impossible to stop- I still struggle mightily w/this but thankfully I no longer get banished to the glassed in crybaby room where’d I’d be sent during mass. (I just get up and stagger out of the room.) I think that time in the crybaby room (glassed in room looking in on the mass) was actually some very effective birth control bc I to this day CANNOT stand to listen to children whine or cry. I am that person whose face you see fall when you walk onto a plane or into a restaurant w/your baby…pls dear GOD don’t sit near me—NOT a fan! Anyway, this post was supposed to be about abortion and how the best way to prevent or deter it is birth control and sex education. No one is sitting there craving an abortion like, they might a popsicle— ooooh I could really go for one of those right now. Its an unfortunate situation that WOMEN face that decision bc it need not happen, if birth control were readily available and covered by insurance- thanks McPain for not voting to cover that w/insurance but viagra should be covered- you stupid pig. So, I will get into it more later but suffice it to say that all you self righteous pro-lifers need to get down off your high horse and wake up to the reality that no one is out there craving abortion like you crave a banana popsicle – but we are not incubators and we are rational enough, intelligent beings, able to make our own moral decisions about early term abortions- just blastocytes- not a baby. We don’t need the government to make laws endangering our lives and rights just to protect us from a wrong decision morally. Give us proper education and access to birth control and see the enlightenment and change in the world you’re looking for = less abortion. Research other countries not trapped in the grip of theocracy and look at their abortion rates, not to mention lower teen pregnancy rates- that is the way to reduce abortions- prohibition has been tried, it was deadly and discriminatory. We don’t need to repeat it. DO NOT VOTE FOR MCCAIN!

ps- i have no less than 3 kinds of popsicles in my freezer right now (I’m quite the connoisseur- fyi), but not one of them has the word popsicle on it- WTF? Evidently bill gates thinks I’m spelling it wrong but I think it looks pretty good, how the hell else do you spell it? What’s your favorite flavor BTW? I’ll tell you whether you’re right or no- ha!  This blog is anonymous right?

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McCain = McPAIN (calls his wife the C word)

I knew that he was ethically challenged (Keating 5) and that he’d called his current wife a CUNT and treated his first wife poorly but I had no idea it was this bad or this blatant.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1024927/The-wife-John-McCain-callously-left-behind.html
It kind of sounds like a Lifetime movie to me.  I wish someone
would do it- in fact I'm going to start writing it.  I will
change his name to McPAIN.  Here's the pitch: 

He's utterly and completely desperate for the White House and
thinks he now hasa shot even though he has one foot in the grave.
He's now married to Sidney, a wealthy liquor heiress that he courted
openly all over the country before he dumped his disabled
first wife Carolyn.  

McPain's a not so bright, ruthless and
unethical political climber desperate to live
up to daddy and grandaddy's reputation who does whatever
it takes to get ahead, never mind the ethics and roadkill
along the way.  (Wait, that sounds like someone else we know,
I will have to add a character, lets call him G.W. Shrub.)
He will be following in the corrupt political footsteps of
another loser but practical clone, Shrub, a text book
sociopath.
(http://www.amazon.com/Bush-Couch-Inside-Mind-President/dp/0060736704)  

I will have to run this by my attorney, just to see
how I will stand on the "thinly veiled" front.  I
will of course write it as anonymous.

But that is exactly how I picture him- the outcome
is all important and by any means necessary - have you
read The Prince?...he has.  I hope people really start
to pound his character bc its unbelievable that no one
has even mentioned the Keating 5 thing and yet Obama
serves on aboard w/a slimeball and we hear all about the
questionable ethics of that-grrr!  Again, if you vote for
this man- I question your intelligence.
 
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Posted by on June 11, 2008 in pro-choice, Uncategorized

 

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My baby likes it rough, my neighbors think I’m weird.

My baby likes it rough = Neighbors think I’m weird.

June 11, 2008 · No Comments

He likes to be spanked, and often. He likes it when I play butt bongo and he can go all night. He can’t get enough. It started off with just some scratching in his nether region. I could scratch him there and his whole body would just torque with pleasure That satiated him for a while but now its just the rough stuff-and he’s got to have it. What’s slightly creepy about it is that he likes to moan really loudly w/pleasure which is fine, you know, because I’m not mormon or anything, but the thing is, he’s my DOG. Is that perverted? You’re perverted, shut up!

He likes it and I like to make him happy. In fact I laugh uncontrollably (like I’m on a roller coaster) when all this is going on and that just eggs him on. He seems to think I am sort of coin operated (if coins were kisses) and to keep the ride going he just needs to keep the change coming.  So, he keeps kissing me and missing my nose in all the passion.  Which, of course, makes me laugh more and its a whole vicious cycle. He likes to hear me laugh- I think he actually associates my laughter now w/this type of butt bongo pleasure because I don’t even need to call his name anymore- if I want him to come right away, I just start laughing like crazy and he is there on the spot.

This is slightly more embarrassing in public than calling his name or calling out TREATS when I need him to come right away. The other day the collar slipped off and he of course bolted (like I beat him) so I had to stand there and just laugh (really loudly) like the village idiot. It was an epic struggle for him- the urge to roam and pee freely vs. the laughter and promise of butt bongo. It took him some time to decide so I had to really ham it up- make him think it was the best butt bongo session ever to be had = laugh like a lunatic.

So, eventually he came back but I’m afraid that standing in the street alone laughing really loudly is not the best recommendation as to my sanity. So just a heads up, not all the crazy people you see talking/laughing/dancing to themselves are completely crazy, maybe they are just signaling the commencement of a serious butt bongo session or you know, calling their dog.

So, that’s what this blog will be about. My dog, my life, butt bongo, my job (I’m starting a business dealing with philanthropy/volunteering), I’m a do-gooder, not a goody 2 shoes, though I wear 2 -I watch some reality television and follow politics obsessively. This is where I will rant about McPain and how utterly ridiculous anyone who votes for him is-this is where I will get my rage on!  I’m not a joyologist and there is certainly a need for more cowbell.

 
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Posted by on June 11, 2008 in Uncategorized

 

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