Khall

dateUp

2008-05-13T16:53:42Z

Yeah, so I'm out of action for a few more days. Got a nice virus. In the mean time, I thought I'd share:

Iron man2

The Quest to build the perfect Bra

The Bounce-O-Meter NSFW

K.

I think I'm a bad boy

2008-05-09T20:04:39Z

Never let it be said that MSN isn't out to change the world and help bring about world peace...as long as you're monogamous, of course.

How to win over a bad boy...

Why can't people just understand? Playerhaters.:/

K.

Relationship stuff

2008-05-07T08:18:47Z

golden_maia and I have been together since December 8th (according to her) of 2006. In that time, she's had to sacrifice a lot. I have other relationships, school, work, my workout, occasional obsessive-compulsive bouts with video games, mad-ass coding-sprees and generally she's been picked on, picked up, smacked up, smacked down and smacked around.

This has been really hard, for us both, and we've hit some rocky spots. One or two were really rocky. She's endured most of it with grace, compassion and tolerance. And I love her very much. So when I found this, tonight, I just had to dedicate it to her. In the spirit of our love.:)

Some really cool stuff

2008-05-05T09:04:55Z

101 Fantastic Freebies

Cool stuff to do with text messages

So, yeah, I know I sound a little like a deranged spammer, but I really encourage everybody to read these two articles and scroll through both lists (the first one is like 15 pages). It'll take 10-20 minutes, but I'm pretty sure you'll find at least one thing in there that will make your life easier/cooler.

If not, I will promise to pretend interest in one (1) obscure, random post of your choosing at some point in the future.;)

K.

I...

2008-04-25T11:00:48Z

I want to take back everything I said about the Wii being a "gaming system" only for 12 year old girls.

http://www.asylum.com/2008/04/23/stripping-game-for-wii-in-development/

K.

Earth Day Smells Like Burnt Styrofoam

2008-04-22T18:51:57Z

35 errors in "An Inconvenient Truth"

Similar article on Washington Post.com

Recycling Myths

It's not your fault that recycling is a for-profit industry and a liberal cause celebre. It just makes you annoying for nagging me about it and being "under-informed".

K.

For my reference

2008-04-19T20:51:22Z

12 reasons why I'm poly and other cool shit

2008-04-03T22:07:55Z

The Hard Stuff: "He Saw Me Flirt With Another Man!"

"I touched his face and danced with him in an inappropriate way."

       So wait. You touched his face? And your husband is furious. And you danced with him in an inappropriate way? Does that mean sexy? And hot? Like, you know, a woman should dance? Because if it does? Your husband in an insecure, sniveling little bitch. I don't really drink. I mean, I'll have a beer with sushi or whatever and once in a while on Christmas eve or something. But, alcohol and I don't agree with each other very well or very often. But seriously? You're swearing off drinking and your husband is making you feel like shit...because you got drunk and touched someone's face and had a fun, meaningless dance with them? And probably were super turned on and wanted to go home and have sex? Wtf. Why would...this even happen?

       I mean...okay, I'm poly, I don't really grasp the whole jealousy thing. But...seriously...shouldn't...like, you actually do something before your SO is allowed to get jealous? I mean...either your husband doesn't drink, doesn't flirt, doesn't stare at another woman's chest or ass when she bends over in front of him and hasn't jerked off to porn and therefore pretty much wouldn't recognize fun if it came up and bitch-slapped him with its titty tassles and gave him a lapdance...or he's a hypocritical prude who should never, ever, ever, ever be invited to anything even remotely resembling a party, ever again.

       Seriously. I mean, I could even see how he'd be like, "You embarassed me, that wasn't cool, please don't drink so much that you lose control of yourself again." (Of course, if a guy had done it, he'd be sleeping on the couch for a month, but going with the double standard here...) But...really, never drinking again, because your husband was so scarred by this experience that it has severely damaged your marriage? Your husband is kind of a dweeb. Dump his monkey ass and take half his shit. Not like the doofus is doing you any good...and if you took half the stick out of his ass he might actually be worth hanging out with.

       Wtf. "I'm never drinking again." Puritan. You're trapped in a loveless marriage with an emasculated human toadstool. Only in this society and culture would your desperate psychological plea for a case of beer and a half rack of football players shock you when it manifests. You know that part in Poltergeist, where the spirits say, "Geeeett Ouuuuutt"? Yeah. Channel them. And then have some spirits and a freaking guilt-free dance or two.

PS. Please note this post is not, in anyway, inspired by golden_maia or her propensity for dancing with strangers and I did not write the article, fake the letter or use this passive-aggressive methodology to punish her for her generally disturbingly hussy-like behavior. That's not a tear you see.:/

"as well as a movie adaptation of Japanese anime series "Robotech.""

       All I have to say is? YES, YES, YES! More, faster!

K.

Plane breakfast

2008-03-29T06:02:17Z

       I really like Hispanic people. And by hispanic people, I mean hot latina, puerto rican, cuban, etc, women. I pretty much don't care if other guys eat lead and die, with a few rare exceptions. But as an objective, philosophical point? I'm an advocate of unlimited immigration, for instance.

       However. I need to be very clear about something here. I am 35 years old. And my stomach is much more caucasian, or Hawaiian or something than hispanic. Because, you see, I have tummy gods. And they get angry. Like volcanos. And so, when you put fucking tobassco in my eggs? Or peppers? The tummy gods get angry. And usually, when it's really bad, the best thing for me to eat is something safe, like potatoes. Unless some ass puts green -and- red chilis in them. And then the tummy gods get really, really angry.

       Now, look, I know it's not really your fault. It is, like, white people in New Mexico and California, who want Mexican art, food, culture, music and entertainment, without, you know, actually having to 'suffer' Mexican people being around. And some jackass in Texas thinks "fusion" is a fantastic new food trend. But seriously? I am old and set in my ways. And I don't want fusion in my tummy. I just want plain, old, ordinary eggs. And bacon. And potatoes. It might be neat and trendy and "international" to put Guatamalan-Thai-African 10-alarm nuclear "fusion" peppers or chilis or whatever the hell you call them in my potatoes and eggs. But every time you do that? The tummy gods kill a kitten. Just saying.

       Also, if you open a restaurant, and the only kinds of toast you have are 'wheat', 'honey-caramel-crunchy-chunky-style-nugget' and 'this tastes like I'm giving a scarecrow a blowjob'? You should die a horrible, horrific, terrible, awful, painful death. It's not trendy. It's not cute. It's not good. I don't mind a nice rye or sourdough or german barley toast. Though, really? Wonderbread, yo. But...like salsa, (that's store-bought mild taco sauce, Hispanic people) I don't want my bread chunky style. I don't want toast that I can de-seed and re-grow a fucking field of wheat from. I don't want toast that's crunchier than granola. The blame for this, particular offense to the tummy and taste bud gods rests firmly on Caucasian people, just so that's clear. Though, I would contest that classification for Californians. The noun, not the adjective.

       Tree-hugging, granola-chewing, peace-loving, "I carry my own woven reed grocery sack around with me, just in case", "use my soy-plastic water bottle instead of wasting a plastic cup to serve me water on the plane" hippies should all die.

       That is all.

</rant>

K.

Knockers!

2008-03-06T07:06:30Z

Not guilty, by reason of breast size.

K.

The world is changed forever

2008-02-19T08:34:38Z

Cuban 401k?

I would like everyone to notice the time-date stamp on this post. To verify it was posted before redhotlips ever even saw it.;)

K.

Fascinating

2008-02-12T10:55:46Z

What's your VALS type?

Innovator/experiencer

K.

Maybe Democracy is a bad idea

2008-02-11T02:19:33Z

I have two mid-terms and a presentation this week. (Had two presentations but one of them has been re-scheduled mercifully).

In other news, Mitt Romney received 18% of the votes in the Washington State caucus held on the 9th. (Mitt Romney withdrew from the race on about the 6th.)

K.

Stuff and stuff

2008-02-08T09:54:51Z

My original intention was to post something smart ass about this but then I read it. And, seriously folks? Quit beating each other. That's effed up. I have to kind of question those statistics, I mean, I'm pretty sure 1 out of every 4 guys I know is not a wife beater. But...either way, this was a perfect opportunity for grunting man-pig chauvinistic humor? Wasted by there just not being anything funny about this.

K.

Do you need to improve?

2008-01-28T22:50:06Z

Ten steps to being a better wife.

K.

No leashes on the bus

2008-01-24T09:24:47Z

'I'm a human pet': The Goth teenager whose fiance walks her around on a dog lead

I just had to trump redhotlips by posting this before she found it.;)

K.

More Music For Dr.Cruel

2008-01-16T08:34:33Z

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8EIHDKDp0es

K.

Presented for your attention, the dumbest thing in the world.

2008-01-04T22:23:21Z

Commercial passenger jets to be equipped with anti-missile defense systems.

       Let me say something profound about this, "..."

       Let me do it again, "WTF?"

       There's never been a jet shot down with a "shoulder-mounted" missile launcher, in history. There's one or two suspected cases. Among all the plane crashes and hijackings and terrorist incidents since the 1950s. Most low-tech anti-jet solutions? Are heat-seeking, or radar guided...90% of the missiles in the world are radar or heat seeking guided. Not laser guided. A very limited number of shoulder mounted weapons, mostly British makes or former British colonies, are laser guided. How the hell does this even remotely relate to...any threat we've ever had? Why add cost to air travel, plane production, airline running...without adding even the slightest iota of value? Baa, little sheep, baa. Feel safer. You are protected by laser beam technology now. Baa, baa.

       I'm going to paint a picture of Luke Skywalker on my car. And claim that it is Force-based technology protected. As Luke Skywalker's emanations repel all of those Force-tracking missiles that the terrorists might use to target my car.

K.

Two quotes?

2007-12-30T05:04:26Z

There are two quotes (that I have mis-quoted below), that I am trying to find the original phrasing of. Anybody got any leads for me?

the crow lies quoth the raven and worse he's black

The man shrugged, as if to say, that while the world had many problems this one was not one of his." ?Terry Pratchett?

K.

Crimbo haul!

2007-12-25T13:29:25Z

Behold the pimp sword

K.

Merry Christmas

2007-12-24T11:19:26Z

       Friday night, the 21st golden_maia and lumpyone and I went to Hikuni for filet mignon, lobster and shrimp hibachi. And we had a lot of sapporo and kirin. And then we went back to their house, had a lot of brandy and egg nog and I got a fantastic quilt that golden_maia made me, and The Troubles of Janice 2 and The Troubles of Janice 3 from lumpyone. And? A Firewheel rubberband gun (If you have ever heard me talk about rubberband gatling guns and girls you would understand). And I got golden_maia this: Enthralled. Which is pretty much an awesome present for girls.

       Then, tonight, I'm going to my mom's house, and getting more presents and having oyster stew and egg nog. And tomorrow to my sister's house, to get more presents. And lobster. Then, the 3rd of January, belled_kitten is coming to visit. This has been the most perfect holiday in a couple of years, one I thought wouldn't be coming my way any time soon. I am wonderfully lucky and privileged to have the life that I do and the people in it who make it what it is. I love being me.

       Hope you all have wonderful, magical holidays with someone you love very much and who loves you.

K.

Uplifting

2007-12-14T14:55:18Z

       As some of you know, I've been so stressed lately that I can barely breathe; finals, holidays, work, life events, packing, not getting my lease renewed, etc, etc. As none of you know, I have been in a lot of pain too, pretty much constant low level pain with occasional 2-3 hour bursts of agony. People who I've trusted or opened up to have disappointed me. And I've had about 11 hours of sleep in the last 3 nights, maybe 16 in the last 4, which is just not enough for me. At all. In other words, I've been miserable and clinging to my patience by my fingernails and people's smallest quirks have been making me want to bury a crowbar in their head. I rarely post personal things, but...this was something special.

       It was Christmas morning, in my mom's old house, the house I grew up in (except for some reason I was sleeping in my brother's old room.) And it was just like every Christmas, my aunts were snarking about my step-sisters on-again-off-again sorta-gay boyfriend, my grandfather was presiding over the whole mess with a patriarchal smile. Oddly enough my dad and his wife were there too.

       And she woke me up, by crawling into bed with me. On top of me, outside the blankets. And her hair was a startling shade of blonde, not natural, but...perfect. And she had these little sun tattoos like = O = all over her face, in a pattern, that made her look like a kitten. She was demure, but not shy. She was forward, but not aggressive. She told me I looked like the kind of person who robbed banks and mugged old ladies and that's what made her want to crawl in bed with me and kiss me. And it was charming and endearing. She was sweet. Not innocent, but pure. The encounter was sexy, but not sexual.

       I caught her alone in the kitchen, and lifted her onto the counter and tormented her lips and throat and breasts through her shirt. Her eyes shined with that spark of humor and enjoyment of life. I tricked her into the bedroom, and I kissed her fiercely. And I held her over me and lifted her shirt, and pulled her nipple into my mouth. And then, I rolled her over, to...and woke up with a smile on my face. I only got about two hours of sleep. But I feel more whole than I have in a month. It's going to be a beautiful day. Now, at 7am, it's a virgin dawn. I look forward to watching it age. Have a great day.

K.

RE: Cynical

2007-12-12T13:52:22Z

       Somebody really close to me, and really important to me, posted an entry in their journal; talking about how she wondered why brilliant people never spoke up, or tried to do more with their lives. Her post was about how she was starting to understand...and how she wondered if she should stop beating her head against the wall, going outside the herd, and just keep her mouth shut, in order to decrease stress in her life and exchange her silence for peace and happiness. I reposted my comment below, because I wanted it handy for me. And, unlike her, I really don't care what other people think of the things I say.

       Fuck the wall. Fuck the herd. You are brilliant. That's why you see this. And...as people who have the capability to make change, we have a duty to do so. Even if they don't like it. Even more importantly? We have a duty to ourselves to be ourselves. If the Universe meant the wall to stop me? It wouldn't put it in my way. If it continues to put it in front of me, I'm going to knock it down, even if it takes 10,000 tries. And then I'm going to stand on the rubble, and wipe the blood off of my forehead and ask what the next challenge is. Because? Once you conquer one, it gets boring to not have another. And? I don't take no for an answer. Ever.

       If you don't want to be knocked down, run over, spit on and then mocked? Don't stand in my way. I don't want the Universe to think of it as rape, when I don't take no for an answer...just think of it as unanticipated sexual congress. Or being my bitch. Or meeting your master. Or Darwinistic evolution. I am happy to provide that service, free of charge, to miscellaneous and sundry obstacles, persons, institutions and forces.

       I will close my fist. And grab what I want. Again, even if it takes me 10,000 tries. Even if I have to close my fist over your throat first. And heave you to the side. I am not driven. I am the driver, though. I will take what I want. I will have what I want. I will earn it. I don't want it easy. I don't want it nice. I don't want short cuts, get-rich-quick schemes, or things given to me. Don't do that. You ruin my fun. I want it hard. I want you to make me doubt myself. I want you to make me almost quit. Because that just reminds me, who I am. What I am. That just tempers me. It makes me sharper. Stronger. Harder.

       Even if you defeat me, foil me, stop me, balk me, you only teach me to find another way, a better way. And? You only make the victory taste sweeter. When I suckle up to its windpipe, and fasten my lips, like a lover's kiss. And rip its throat out with my teeth.

K.

What's the word for...

2007-12-06T09:25:51Z

       So I get up late today, my insomnia has been so bad lately that I only got about 5 hours. And as a result, I didn't get a chance to get gas before I headed off to work out tonight. Thusly, I pull into this little pissant gas station on E, in between the two highways, and fill up for gas.

       And I'm talking to golden_maia on my cell, right? And this crotchety old lady calls me from 50 freaking feet away and goes, "Sir, you can't be on the cellphone at the pump." Now first? My reaction was...I'm pretty fucking sure I am on the cellphone at the pump, thus I can. And? You are stupid. The fact that I could potentially have children as stupid as you someday, makes my testicles wither and grow barren, like an Ethiopian cantaloupe farm. Or, you know, your ability to fucking think for yourself. You are the animated paperclip on my useless redundant bloatware application of love.

       Now, let me explain this to you. See, there's this internet-spawned urban legend, that the voltage (amperage?) spike from your cellphone could ignite gas fumes and cause an explosion. It's never actually happened. But there is either a state-law and/or a fueling station industry regulation (depending on how fucking retarded your state legislature is) that you can't be on your cellphone at the gas pump. This, by the way, was brought to you by the mentally-stunted lobotomite that is your (former?) Oregon state governor's first lady. The same person who made it illegal to pump your own gas in that armpit of a state between Washington (that's Seattle to you foreigners and Easterners) and California, and thus found "gainful" (using the term charitably and loosely) employment for every malformed misanthrope who couldn't be fucked to shoot themselves up with crystal meth and/or any of the variety of readily available "Saturday Night Specials" Darwin has negligently scattered around their trailer park.

       Even better, every expert ever consulted about this, has stated that it -can't- happen. It is impossible. First of all, your cellphone-in-a-call doesn't really use that much more electricity than it does just being on, in your pocket. The real energy use is to light up your LED screen or keep your numbers backlit. The true 'spike' comes when the phone rings, when someone calls you. Secondly, your cellphone would have to come in direct contact with a cloud of gasoline fumes so thick that you wouldn't be able to breathe inside it. At the exact moment that someone called you. Now, despite the fact that a gas pump's nozzle is incapable of producing that kind of fuel-injection style mist, even if it could, it is designed to (with double-redundant baffles, by the way, I had to take a freaking seminar on this when I worked at Texaco) prevent back flow. So if this were possible, you'd be just as much at risk, with your cellphone on as you would while talking on it. Secondly? More importantly? You're more likely to cause a spark dropping your cellphone. Or dropping the metal nozzle onto the cement. Or something else out of your pocket. Or, you know, starting your god damn car, because I hear there's like this whole mechanism that the manufacturer and/or the UN and a secret group of alien overlords secretly hides in your car, that is designed to ignite gasoline fumes.

       So? What I did was put my phone in my pocket. And she thanked me. Because everybody knows that JCPenny fucking Dockers are like made out of the same shit that the Space Shuttle's heat shield re-entry ceramic tiles are. And golden_maia likes being put in a man's pocket anyway. She's kinky like that.

       Then? The flipping receipt paper is out on the pump, so I'm walking into the store to get a receipt (oh yeah, and the god damn pump makes you put in your zip code, because, yeah, I figured out how to steal someone's credit card, but I'm not smart enough to know what fucking zip code I'm standing in, thank you Loss Prevention! You saved the fucking day there, fucking human pet rock. Maybe you could add an animated paperclip to fucking help me.), and I see a sign on the door, that says "All merchandise 20% off, going out of business liquidation sale!" And I get up to the one counter...and the woman behind it isn't doing anything...but she doesn't say anything, she just pauses, looking right at me, for like...45 seconds and then points me to the next register down. She's not on the phone, no BlueTooth headset, nothing. No. She's just too busy existing in some kind of fucking Zen alpha-state to break her oneness with the Cosmos long enough to print me out a fucking receipt. Or, you know, move her lips into verbal cues in order to...communicate like a normal human being.

       Whatever. I get to the other register? And fucking Yoda's grandmother there asks me three times what pump I'm on, what color my car is and how much gas I pumped. Then hands me the wrong receipt, with the wrong amount on it. When I come back and tell her that, she informs me that it's the only possible receipt because it's the only sale on the pump. (And, again, I used to work in a gas station, I know the pump number, I don't mix it up, I can fucking read and remember a single digit number for the duration of a 50 foot walk and spatially connect the location of my car to the fucking 900-point font number 8 feet above it and everything. I even fucking tie my own shoes, and shit. I know, right? How can I keep the bitches and hoes off me with this much going for me, you're asking yourself.) I was tempted, god I was so tempted, to ask her if she'd guarantee the amount on the receipt she gave me, was going to be the amount that showed up on my credit card? But, frankly, I am too nice to torment the functionally challenged to that degree. And I just wrote the amount off the pump readout on the receipt she gave me.

       But? I still can't figure out why that gas station, on a prime location between two major highways, is going out of business. Nothing I learned in Econ class prepared me for this real world co-fucking-nundrum.

K.

Everybody's evil

2007-11-16T06:26:33Z

See, I have long argued that there are no unselfish motives. That every thing we do is for selfish reasons. There's no good people. Just people whose selfish motives are more or less benign. As evidence, this study helps prove that I was right. Not that I needed proof. I mean, we pretty much all knew I was.

However, as a counterbalance? This miserable bastard got what was coming to him, finally.

K.