My friend, Gen, dared to say that purple was better than monkeys. I proved otherwise.

Genevieve: I am just all about purple

Genevieve: because purple is cooler than monkeys and cooler than cartoons
Pamela: purple may be cooler than monkeys, but it’s not nearly as much fun!

Genevieve: heheh

Genevieve: sure it is!

Genevieve: lots more things come in purple than come with monkeys

Genevieve:
Pamela: i mean, have you ever heard anyone say, “more fun than a barrell of purple?”

Pamela: barrel

Genevieve: haha

Pamela: ll?

Genevieve: sure, but can you get lengurie<sp!> with monkeys?

Genevieve: or condoms with monkeys?

Genevieve: or VIBRATORS with monkeys?

Genevieve: all those things come in PURPLE and they’re highly entertinaing
Pamela: hahahahaha

Pamela: very true

Pamela: well, i have a pajama set with monkeys on them. top and shorts

Pamela: not quite lingerie, but i don’t wear lingerie

Genevieve: can you see through them?

Genevieve: then they don’t count!

Genevieve: and you should

Pamela: you probably could find condoms or vibrator with monkeys. i mean, they make some pretty whacked shit nowadays

Genevieve: true

Genevieve: i would do a google search, but I’m at work

Pamela: hee hee hee

Pamela: i am

Pamela: and i just found “sextoynetwork.com” and the web site colors are red, white, and PURPLE

Genevieve: YEAH!

Genevieve: beat that monkeygirl!

Pamela: no monkey vibrator, but there’s a horny monkey keychain

Genevieve: oh geez

Pamela: the monkeys have been robbed!!

Pamela: YES!!!

Pamela: AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Genevieve: oh no

Pamela: I AM VICTORIOUS!!!

Genevieve: noooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Genevieve: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Pamela: Monkey Turbo Vibrator!!!

Genevieve: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Genevieve: describe!

Genevieve: how much?

Genevieve: DETAILS woman

Pamela: heh, sorry, i was gloating to dale

Pamela: you know the jelly ones with the *ahem* extra stimulator at the front?

Genevieve: yeah

Genevieve: you have to email the link to me at home

Genevieve: I *have* to see this thing

Pamela: it’s like one of those. the head of it is shaped like an ape (kinda looks like a character from Planet of the Apes)

Pamela: the stimulator… i can’t tell what it is.


Pamela: and…. there’s a second stimulator for the other side

Genevieve: SCARY MONKEY!

Pamela: oh, and the best part…. it’s clear fading to PURPLE

Genevieve: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Genevieve: you suck

Genevieve: you know that right?

Genevieve: you and your damn monkeys can eat my ass!

Pamela: hahahahahahah!!!

Pamela: hah, found another monkey vibrator!

Pamela: yeeee, scary stuff out there

Pamela: something called an “anal chain”

Pamela: ah, yes, once again, i can prove that monkeys rule

Pamela: i present… monkey lingerie (photo is work safe)

Genevieve: oh my god!

Genevieve: There’s a monkey on that man’s penis!!!

Once again, monkeys rule!

Bruce Campbell is going to be at Book People on October 6th!!

I <3 Bruce Campbell!

(Guestmap found through Little.Yellow.Different.)

Little Bitcher just tried to steal one of the monkeys off the top of my monitor.

Nobody messes with my monkeys. Not even one of my kitties!

Kathie: I did it. Finally worked up the courage to call that clairvoyant that Janine recommended.

Pamela: and?

Pamela: was he expecting your call?

Kathie: laf. I got voice mail. Left him a message with my phone number. Didn’t say who had given me his card. We’ll see how many things he pieces together on his own.

Pamela: i am remarkably amused by my pathetic joke

Kathie: laf. I chose to ignore it. ;p

p.s. Kathie has redesigned her web site. It’s looking good, so go check it out.

This web site is about to move to another server. While the DNS resolves, things may be a little wonky. Please be sure to email me if anything seems to be majorly broken.

Thanks!

A woman (I’ll call her A) who’s on a list that I’m on, posted yesterday wanting opinions on a decision she has to make. She recently took in a stray dog and found out that it’s pregnant. Several vets she’s spoken to have advised her to go ahead and spay the dog now and terminate the pregnancy in the process, rather than allowing the litter to be born and contribute to the pet overpopulation problem. She asked for opinions on whether it was better to spay now, or if she should let the dog bear her litter, then try to find homes for the pups.

I, and several other women, responded that we believed it would be better to abort the pups now, rather than try to care for and find homes for all the puppies later. Difficult as the decision is, there really are already too many homeless animals. One woman (I’ll call her B) was very emphatic in her email, listing statistics about animals killed per day at the Town Lake Animal Shelter and adding the fact that if the pups are black-haired, their chances for being adopted will be even worse.

Today, another woman (I’ll call her X) responded, to the whole list, and compared the spaying of the pregnant dog to the forced abortions that many women in China are forced to endure. Then she pointed out B’s comment about black-haired dogs and made allusions to A having an ultrasound done to see if the pups have black coats and terminating them only if they do, as couples in India will abort fetuses that are female in favor of giving birth to male children.

I just want to throttle X! A is facing a hard enough decision without having such a political guilt-laden argument thrown in her face. I responded, this time to the list.

“Wow. I’m amazed at how you’ve managed to turn a discussion about a pregnant dog into a political argument about another country. You’re confusing two very different issues that happen to have similar elements (overpopulation and abortion).

…

I hardly support the actions of the Chinese government, but that situation doesn’t correlate to pet overpopulation. Please, leave your political soap box out of this discussion.”

I got a semi-private response from X. (She also sent it to B.) I won’t post it here, since it wasn’t a public response to the list, but I am still not impressed with her arguments. To paraphrase, she doesn’t think we (humans) have the right to make life or death decisions for anyone, including non-humans. That, in itself, is a valid argument, but it’s not what she originally posted to the list, nor was it this argument that bothered me. It was the comparisons to highly controversial international situations.

Then she scolded me for telling her to “shut up” and said I should have just noticed the “POL” (political) subject line annotation and deleted the mail if I wasn’t interested. That’s all fine and dandy, but I never told her to shut up; just to leave the international debate out of this discussion. And, the original email and X’s list response were both annotated with “PETS,” not “POL.” X’s list response has stirred up another wave of responses, and not one of them is in support of hers. They’ve all requested that she keep the two issues separate.

I do hope that this is the end of it. And I hope that A is able to live with whichever decision she makes. I know which one I hope it will be. As much as it saddens me, it’s the choice I would make.

Date: Tue, 17 Sep 2002 00:08:12 -0700 (PDT)

From: Xxxxxxx@yahoo.com

Subject: fans

To: pamela

hello my name ikram

I come form indonesia (I am sorry my english language not good)

I saw you in Barb wire and you acting very good.

I am very sorry about you and tommy but you have good choice for your live.

How about your children are he fine ? I hope he good

I hear you will acting again in cable tv. I hope can saw you in indonesia. please you contact me in Xxxxxxx@yahoo.com . Thanks for your time

What a very nice note. Too bad I’m the wrong Pamela.

A couple in Frederick, MD, is suing a DJ and radio station for $1 million, alleging defamation and invasion of privacy. You see, poor Cynthia Hollander runs a personal porn site where she posts explicit messages and photos (the type Playboy doesn’t even print) and solicits people to pay for memberships to her site. And the mean nasty DJ (I’ve heard he really is quite an ass) called her a whore and gave out directions to her husband’s place of business. Since then, her neighbors have been giving her the cold shoulder, strange men will show up at her house, and she’s been getting a lot of nasty emails.

At the time of the incident, Cynthia and her husband called up the station and laughed and joked about the site with the DJ. Only afterwards, when the barrier of the internet was gone and public reaction exploded in her face did she become upset. And how has she chosen to respond? In the traditional American way - by suing someone rather than facing the consequences of her own actions.

Yeah, I’m not very sympathetic to Cynthia’s plight. While I think the DJ was just stupid and crossed the line by giving out personal information like home or business addresses, I fail to see where he’s guilty of defamation, even if he did call her a whore.

If we go by the definitions of these words, I don’t think the DJ has defamed or slandered her. By definition, she is a prostitute. She solicits money to view photos of her committing sexual acts. (And, yes, they’re explicit acts.) And she solicits requests for photos.

To defame someone is:

1. To damage the reputation, character, or good name of by slander or libel.

Slander is:

1. Law. Oral communication of false statements injurious to a person’s reputation.
2. A false and malicious statement or report about someone.

So, he called her a whore and said she runs a porn site.

A whore is:

1. A prostitute.
2. A person considered sexually promiscuous.
3. A person considered as having compromised principles for personal gain.

And, a prostitute is:

1. One who solicits and accepts payment for sex acts.
2. One who sells one’s abilities, talent, or name for an unworthy purpose

A Letter to the Editor of The Gazette summed up my thoughts nicely (and more politely than I have):

…If she is “thick-skinned” enough to bare her body in seductive lurid photos on a Web site in the public domain for all in the world who choose to see, she should not be so “thin-skinned” to now be appalled at the consequences that have evolved which her action evoked. Perhaps Ms. Hollander needs to be acquainted with the old saying, “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.”

More than anything, Ms. Hollander should be more worried about the emotional well-being and welfare of her four children and the image of motherhood she projects. Her Web site actions suggest, however, that her primary concern does not appear to be her status in motherhood. She obviously seems to possess a greater interest in making money by depicting herself in a lurid sexual arena on a public Web site….

This whole case is stupid. In my opinion, the only real victims are Cynthia’s four children. But I’m sure they’ll all be fine once mom wins that cool million, because she’ll be able to easily pay for all their therapy.

I was born on Paul Bunyan Day and married on National Magic Day and Increase Your Psychic Powers Day. Dale was born on Escape Day.

Aren’t we special?

We had workmen out today to deal with some water leaks in the house. (Same leaks we’ve been reporting for the last two years.) The leak in the master bathroom had gotten so bad that the drywall and wooden window ledge were water damaged and have to be replaced. I was watching while the contractor began knocking the window ledge loose. I turned away for a minute, and when I looked back, I noticed some ants in the bathtub. I said, “where did those come from?” and he responded, “from under here, I think.”

He busted out the crowbar and pried up the board further, as we bent over to glance under, ants began swarming out. I ran to the kitchen to get a can of insect killer and heard him say, “Oh yeah, there’s thousands under here!”

By the time I got back, there were hundreds of them swarming down the wall and into the tub. I sprayed the insecticide under the ledge while he held it up, but there were so freaking many of them. The contractor told me he had a shop vac and would vacuum them up, so I left the can with him and ran upstairs to find our exterminator’s number.

Great. “Wednesday, after 4 pm,” was the soonest ABC could come out, so I searched for another company I’d seen working the neighborhood. After 15 minutes of frantic searching (and listening to the guy working the vacuum downstairs), I finally found Moxie’s contact information. I scheduled an appointment for 9 am tomorrow; much more preferable than waiting until Wednesday evening.

It took the contractor about 20 minutes to get all the ants vacuumed up. Right before he started, I took a couple of pictures. I figured Dale wouldn’t believe how awful it was without proof.

I’m not usually squeamish about bugs, let alone ants. They often bite, so I avoid them, but they don’t scare me. Except when I see a thousand of them swarming out of my walls. I was so creeped out, I seriously considered not sleeping downstairs tonight. *yuck*

A Tribute to Ray Harryhausen*

Link swiped from my friend, Christina.

*Ray Harryhausen is a stop-motion animator** who’s done special effects for such classics as Jason and the Argonauts.

** Yes, I had to look this up.

Happy Birthday, Mel!!

Dale and I are very glad to have you with us. So, get back to work and clean the house we hope you have a great day!

Tuesday

Mel and I went driving around, looking for some places around Austin to photograph. We ended up down at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center. We were lucky enough to enjoy a nice breeze for most of our visit. After that, we went to 6th street. Aside from some crazy old guy trying to grab Mel’s boobs as we walked down the sidewalk, nothing much was going on so we decided to have a late lunch at the Iron Cactus.

After lunch we headed back to the house. We both napped until it was time to head to Donna’s house for a sex toy party. (Like a Tupperware party, but much more interesting, and a bit scary.) As we were heading towards Donna’s, Mel found out she had voicemail from Phil. She called him back and left him a message, then he returned her call just after we got to the party.

10 minutes later, and toyless, we were back in my car and heading downtown. We met up with Phil and his friend/boss, Ed, at the Cedar Door. The guys were rather impressed that we’d passed up toys for boys. Several fun hours were spent drinking (the guys) and talking and making plans for Mel’s birthday, and I did a bit of schmoozing on Dale’s behalf.

Wednesday

I woke up at 6:30 am feeling hungover, which was pathetic ’cause all I’d had to drink the night before was juice, water, and the sip of Ed’s Wild Black Betty (or whatever it was called) he’d insisted I take. I heard Mel put Zoë out, so I decided to go back to sleep. The cats had other plans, however, and kept waking me every few minutes over the next several hours. By the time I crawled upstairs, I was cranky and still feeling like poo. Thinking about the date didn’t help my mood very much.

Things got better that evening. Christina called and invited us over for dinner, and we happily accepted. A few hours spent with Steve, Christina, and Aaron was just the right thing to fix my mood. Unfortunately, after we got home, I had to get back to work on a problem project and it kept me up until after 3 am.

Thursday

Again, I woke up feeling crappy. I wonder if it’s the weather or my allergies. Also again, I heard Mel let Zoë out, so I passed out again. I got up at 8:30 to wish Mel luck on her job interview, but I’d just missed her. I took some meds for the headache that had been bothering me since the night before then tried to take a nap on the couch (so Zoë wouldn’t have to be crated or left outside). That didn’t work out very well, because I kept waking up to Bailey happy dancing on my stomach. It wouldn’t have been so bad if her claws weren’t in need of clipping.

After a couple of days of hair-pulling frustration, I was able to fix the message boards on my alumni site. With that resolved, I took a break for dinner. Mel had made a relatively simple but pretty damn good shepherd’s pie.
Mmmmm! No longer hungry, I then turned my attention to another project I’m working on as a volunteer. I got through my backlog of updates for that site around 10:30 pm.

Now, it’s time for bed. I’m so glad tomorrow today is Friday! That means I get to pick up Dale from the airport tonight!

The Public 8 Ball - This isn’t just another imitation, script-run 8 ball. When you ask this real Magic 8 Ball a question, it’s shaken with a custom Lego Mindstorms cradle and displays its answer just for you. How cool is that?

If hackers ruled the world…. Some people have way too much free time on their hands. (I’m one of ‘em.)

A chocolate shortage?? NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

And, finally, a super extra scary Nick Nolte.

[via Aaron, Pope, Genevieve, and Dorota]

In June 2002, I went to New York with my family. One of our stops was the site of the World Trade Center. By the time we were there, the rubble had been cleared away, and there was little to distinguish that fenced-in block of land from any other construction site, except for the steel cross that was standing on the site and the quiet atmosphere of respect from the crowds.

Nearby, a viewing platform had been erected. It was also an impropmtu memorial site, covered with flowers, signs, pictures, little treasures, and notes scrawled on the wood of the platform itself. It was walking through this area that I felt the greatest sadness, and hope, because this was the most tangible display of the collective feelings people, from all over the world, had about the events of the previous September.

Messages of love, grief, and hope, in more languages than I could recognize, covered every inch of the platform. Most of them were general in nature, but once in a while, I saw one addressed to someone lost in the attack. What really struck me was how most of these notes were based on love, not fear or hatred.

I really hope that in the days and years to come, we can continue to love, and that we are never lost to the fear and hatred.

New York ‘02<

Two new Mirror Project submissions of mine have been posted.

monkey slippers

obfuscated

(psst! The monkey slippers were a gift from little ginsu!)

Mary Ann Foster(mvnews1@yahoo.com)

Sender IP: 68.4.130.201

Subject: From Your Web Page

Your writings are astonishingly boring! What in the name of God ever made you believe anyone would want to read some mundane nothingness. If my life was as boring as yours I believe I would oft myself.

Dear Mary Ann,

Your writings are astonishingly boring!

Yet exciting enough to warrant an exclamation point!

What in the name of God ever made you believe anyone would want to read some mundane nothingness.

Well, you sent me this email, and I was curious as to what it said. How was I supposed to know it was mundane nothingness until I’d read it?

If my life was as boring as yours I believe I would oft myself.

You would ‘oft’ yourself? ‘Oft’ what? Do you mean you’d ‘off’ yourself? Or is there something you’d do frequently?

Somewhat confused and mildly amused,

me

i just dreamt that i was going with dale, aaron, and some other people to see weezer in concert. we got to the place where the show was going to be, and i found myself standing next to seal (except now he was a cute white guy with gold-rimmed glasses and poufy hair). seal had forgotten his ticket to get into the concert, but the place had all ticket holders’ names on a list, and so seal was trying to convince some guy (dressed in a white lab coat) to let him in to the show, but seal had also forgotten any identification. so i tried to help seal convince lab-coat-guy, who claimed to be a big fan of seal and was asking stuff like, “if it’s you, then what was your big hit in 1999,” or “tell me about the interview you did with xxxxx.” i pointed out that if lab-coat-guy was such a big fan, he’d be able to recognize seal now despite the hair and glasses. the guy agreed and let seal in, so we headed to the room where the show was going to be held.

we were walking down a corridor in a building that looked much like a high school, crappy lighting, linoleum floors, and lots of doorways on either side. we got to the right room and went in. dale, aaron, and the others in my group were already in the room, trying to figure out where our seats were. the room was a typical classroom, not particularly large, and the seats were plastic bucket chairs set up in rows on the floors. the row markers were extra programs placed on the end seats with the ticket numbers hand-written on them, and there was a master seating chart at the back of the room. oddly, none of this seemed unusual to me.

i looked down at the program in my hand and saw that it was fancier than what most of the other people were holding. the cover of it was pink and white plaid, instead of plain black and white photocopy. woo! most of the row markers near me were numbered in the 3- and 500s. the seat number written in my program was E9. I got excited ’cause I realized that would put us near the front. dale had found our seats and yelled across the room to me. i left seal still trying to figure out where his seat was and made my way over to dale. after ooching past knees to get to our seats, i saw that we were about 3 rows back from the front. the performing area was a wider space left at the front of the room. there was a wooden podium in the center, and microphones were set up in the corner to the left of it. all in all, they had about an 8 ft square space for the ’stage.’ and there was a blackboard on the wall behind them.

there was a little more to the dream, but none of it was as weird as this, and i woke up before weezer ever came out to perform, so i’m going to end the story now.

Friday - Went with Aaron, Mel, Dale, and Adam to see Jericho and Amie in The Uncle Cuddles and Spiccy the Clown Show at The Vortex. It was great! We had a pretty good time, even though Mel nearly had a wooden stool dropped on her head and was flashed some clown crotch.

After the show, Adam headed home and we went out to get a late dinner with Jer. Dale really wanted Indian, so we went to The Clay Pit. We stood around for 10-15 minutes waiting for them to seat us (we were the only ones waiting and the place was NOT full), then decided just to leave and go to Sarovar. Alas, we got to Sarovar just after it closed. 10 pm on a Friday night??! The next three places we tried were all also closed. Wtf? We finally went to Olive Garden and were seated 30 minutes before they closed. We had a nice meal, and our waiter was very friendly and clearly exhausted, so we left him a hefty tip (over 20%, baby!)

Saturday - Dale and I took Zoë to puppy training. As usual, she had a great time with the other pups and was more interested in them than in the lessons. Still, we made some progress. That night, we took Mel to Steve and Christina’s post-wedding party. We hung around, introduced Mel to more people, ate a lot, took some pictures, played SSX Tricky, and hid a sofa cushion.

Sunday - In the morning, I discovered that a previously fixed water leak in the master bathroom wasn’t really fixed. Nor were the leaks in the garage. By the time I got out of the shower, I discovered that Mel was gone. She’d mentioned before that she was going to head out on her own to start learning her way around and to give me and Dale some time alone before Dale headed to California for the week. Unfortunately, Dale and I didn’t make good use of the time; we were snotty and grumpy to each other for most of the morning. We apologized right before heading to the airport. I dropped off Dale and called Mel on the way home. She beat me back to the house and was doing the dishes when I arrived. (woo!)

We went upstairs where I found a blue monkey bathrobe on my computer chair. (woo!) It was wrapped around matching monkey slippers and pajamas. (woo woo!) Mel also had presents for Dale, the kitties, and the puppy! She’s spoiling us all! (If she’s not careful, we’re not going to let her leave.)

Aaron came over around 6, bearing chicken and teriyaki sauce. I made a pot of rice and cooked up the chicken. Yum! We put in a DVD when we started eating, then took about 3 hours to watch the movie because we kept pausing it to play with Zo&eml;, run downstairs, or talk. Aaron headed home around 10, and Mel and I have just chilled since then.

Dale called from California at 2am, just as I’d predicted to Mel. We chatted a bit, then said good night. He’s probably asleep by now, Mel’s gone to sleep, and I’m heading to bed as soon as I finish this post.