Lyndon and the Ladybirds

Remember Lyndon's Opinions?

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 17:59:00 +0000

http://lyndonandtheladybirds.blogspot.com/2011/12/real-quick.html
Remember when I said I was going to change this from Lyndon and the Ladybirds to Lyndon's Opinions? LULZ! I haven't done that yet because shit's been cray-cray. Be on the lookout, both of you.

Sorry

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 15:16:00 +0000

I apologize for that previous post. It wasn't funny. I only had about five minutes before I had to do something else and I wanted to get that idea off out of my head. If I had just let it gestate a little longer I may have come up with something funnier.

But probably not, because I thought about it a lot while I was tossing in bed with this shitty cold and I didn't come up with anything. Chain fight it is. Ugh.

You're Welcome? No Problem!

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 20:53:00 +0000

http://consumerist.com/2011/12/is-no-problem-a-suitable-substitute-for-youre-welcome.html

This is from the Consumerist:

People often complain that customer service reps sound like — and sometimes are — reading from a script. So while many of us appreciate it when we speak to someone who treats us in a less-stilted fashion, is there a point where a CSR's tone and diction can become too informal?

Consumerist reader Mike wrote in wanting to know:

“

When did "No Problem" replace "You're Welcome"? I recently spoke to a polite customer service rep and at the end of the call, after I said thank you, he replied with "No problem."

It seemed a touch impolite to me, but after asking other people — all of whom are younger than I — they said that they thought "no problem," was more polite than "you're welcome." Am I the one who's out of touch?

No. You're not out of touch. There are two possible responses to a thank you, and "no problem" is not one of them. They are either:

1. You're welcome.

2. OMG! You're deigning to speak to me! HOLY FUCK! PLEASE SIGN MY CAST! PLEASE SIGN MY CAST!

The second one should be used only if I thanked you for letting me kick your ass in a chain fight.

Pisstilation/The Trickle Down Effect

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 17:17:00 +0000

I'm very sick right now. I have a cold. The doctor says it's not pneumonia, but neumonia sans "p." This got me thinking, what if I created my own holistic remedy as a way to add the p, and hopefully heal faster.

Here goes. I call it the Trickle Down Effect:
You'll need two willing ladies with full bladders, one jar, one metal pot, and a stove.

One girl sits over a jar in a squat position while another girl sits on top of her in the same position.
They both pee at the same time.
The girl on top, her pee trickles down into the vagina of the other girl and both sets of pee trickle down into the jar. Then, you take the double piss jar and boil out all the water until you are left with only a crystallized urea substance on the bottom of the pot.
Next, you scrape that off and put it into some hot water to make a urea tea.
And then you drink it.
When you are finished, get the girls in the same position that they were before and this time pee onto the girl on top while she pees onto the girl on the bottom while that girl pees into a jar.
Repeat over and over.
Eventually you will have a very strong and very potent jar of piss crystals.

I call it Pisstilation and I'm selling jars of triple-evaporated piss crystals for $24.99 with free shipping.

Enjoy!

Cousin Into the World

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 21:26:00 +0000

via Life Quotes? What kind of low rent life quote is that?

Here are a few more Facebook updates from my wayward cousin.
http://lyndonandtheladybirds.blogspot.com/2011/09/school-startsit-begins.html
http://lyndonandtheladybirds.blogspot.com/2011/08/were-classy-bunch.html

She's been through a lot lately. I think she got a divorce. She's enrolled in cosmetology school. She's been out with her friends and taking the ubiquitous "duck face" shots. She's finding herself and using Lil' Wayne lyrics to express her frustration with her friends and lovers.

I am a proud cousin!

Nevermind. Why is the toilet a male?

That's just disgusting. No punctuation or anything.


Aren't bitches, by definition, down? Seems a bit tautological, cuz.

The radio won't even play her jam.

This is her jam, by the way.

This is either another of her jams or her tattoo artist's penis.

Good lord...

Halasalamaka what? Malcolm X just turned over in his grave. Peace be upon him, of course.

So, if you need a down ass bitch to do your hair, call Mr. Toilet and he'll set you up. Hasalalamakaad um!

Bilbo Bloggins

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 14:34:00 +0000

I am dictating this. I am not going to edit it. I think I'm going to write a book this summer. I finished reading Stephen Kings, on writing, and it really struck a chord with me. I've always wanted to write fiction. But I usually get stuck in a rut or just do things that have to do with me. Or school.

I am reading this as I dictate. It is really shitty. Oh well. Anyway, Stephen King says that you don't have to have a plot when you start out. And that has always been my problem. I think that I have to lay out all the characters in the plot and have something interesting to say start to finish. But, I don't have to.

I can just go as the spirit moves me and write and write every morning for a little while and see where I go. I'll be out of school by then and I will have mornings free I hope. Unless, you have a job for me? Pretty please?
So, this summer will be hopefully no, not hopefully, most definitely an exercise in novel writing. Or, at least a novella.

Did I really just use words like "hopefully" and "hopeful" and "hope" 5000 times? Am I that terrible of a writer? Perhaps. Or I'm just that terrible of the speaker.

It is always easy to fall into clichés and hackneyed phrases and stiff stiff writing. But that's what editing is for and I'm not going to edit this post. I think it will be really shitty if this post was just as good as my previous posts because usually I edit those pretty well.

Again, I apologize for the desultory nature of this post.

So Much Good Stuff

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 20:17:00 +0000

I'm finishing up my law school applications. This means I need to delve into my past, drudge up some shit about my family and hope they let me in. It's exasperating and cathartic. So, there's that. Speaking of my family, stay tuned for an all new Facebookin' With Ma Cuzzin
. There's some really good stuff. I mean, unbelievable.

Incommunicado

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 22:27:00 +0000

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good luck getting out your family's clutches long enough to get down to bar to hang out with your college buddies.
I've been thinking about technology lately and its implications on society. Why are people so afraid of/angry at texting and cell phones in general? By this I mean that the curmudgeons who write into their local newspaper editorial board constantly bemoan the rudeness and the general insensitivity people show when they're on their cell phones.

"They don't look where they're going!"
"Those people on their cell phones need to hang up and drive. More than once I've had to swerve to avoid being sideswiped by some texting fool!"

While it is probably not too safe to text and drive, texting and staring at one's cell phone is not indicative of a crumbling society. In fact, I think it just reaffirms that humans love to connect on a deep level. Texting is the new letter writing. There was a time in between the death of the eloquent longhand epistle (sometime in the sixties?) and texting where we could only communicate with the people in our immediate circle. We could call them, but generally immediate communications took place face to face.

When email, instant messages, text messages,and the IRC became popular in the 80s and 90s it created opportunities to communicate instantaneously with people around the world, people with whom we actually wish to talk to.

Texting is an extension of this. The fact that we have mobile devices that allow instant communications with our friends and family who happen to not live in our area just shows how starved we were to connect with our inner circle.

If those oldies had had iPhones in the 50s they would've used them just as prodigiously.
Technology is good, or at least neutral. Texting during dinner is certainly rude, but is not an indictment of an entire generation. I can't wait to see what I complain about when my kids are teens.

Ever Heard of Skrillex?

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sun, 18 Dec 2011 20:41:00 +0000

There was a huge sold-out show here in Tampa the other night. Skrillex (Sonny John Moore, according to Wikipedia) came to town and apparently rocked the house. Intrigued, I gave into the hype and sampled some of his music on iTunes. Good lord. It. Is. Shit.

It sounds like someone took Trent Reznor's "Other" folder of music off his Mac and threw it into GarageBand and hit play on all the tracks all at once. It sounds like a robot taking a shit. It's dubstep, apparently. Dubstep is a much-maligned genre of music that the young kids like. I have (had) nothing against it because I'd never actually taken the time to listen to it.
When people make fun of it on Twitter or Reddit, I ignore it in the same way I ignore posts about video games. However, if this is dubstep, dubstep sucks balls.

I'm not against electronic music. I like Kraftwerk and Nine Inch Nails, goddammit! I took my wife to see Girl Talk and I enjoyed it. But this, this is crap. And it's unbelievably popular.

Whatever. To each his own, but come on, young people. There's better music out there than Skrillex's Cacophony of Truck Nutz Hitting Pavement While Babies Scream.

Curmudgeon out.

Things That Annoy Me...Today

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 23:04:00 +0000

Here is a list of things that have been lodged in my brain, festering and waiting to be expelled.

1. Appearances Matter:
Just because your 100 pound pit bull is a sweet girl who wouldn't kill a soul doesn't mean that you should keep her off her leash while you wash your car. Calling it with trepidation as she ambles across the street toward me and my puppy is not effective. Keep that goddamn dog inside.

2. Collar Stay:

When I first started working out I put collars on my weights when I did the bench press. The one time I didn't some woman who worked at the gym walked by me and ushered a peremptory command. "I'd better see collars on those weights!" I dutifully obeyed. I jumped right up and put those clips on my meager weights.

Luckily I came to my senses.

You don't need to put collars on your bench weights.

Why? Because if you overestimate how much you can handle, even in a busy gym, and you can't tip the bar side-to-side, it'll fall on your neck and kill you.

I see people at the gym all the time who do this. It's irritating but I'm not going to be that guy who dispenses advice. Kill yourself for all I care. It'll make the gym less crowded.

3. Do I want to kill myself?
Do I like when people ask questions to a question? No. Does it make me want to claw their eyes out? Absolutely. Does it really annoy me when people answer their own questions with "definitely"? Definitely.

4. Christmas carols:
My last post was about Christmas carols and how I despise them. I still hate them and I can't wait for the New Year when all these fucks who love Christmas carols get their hands blown off while shooting bottle rockets at their neighbor's trailer.

Christmas Music

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 20:21:00 +0000

There are many things I would do to eliminate Christmas music. I hate it that much.

I would inflict a triple Holocaust on every child, puppy, and kitten in America if I didn't have to hear Brenda Lee warble, "Rocking around the Christmas tree have a happy holiday..." I would drill another couple of holes into my penis and put it on display in the window of Macy's in New York City on Christmas Eve so that no one would ever have to hear Sinatra belt out "Have yourself a merry little Christmas."

I would allow my firstborn child to be left in a manger scene in the middle of a Norwegian December so that no one will ever have to hear "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" ever again.

It's truly the least wonderful time of the year. I don't hate all the songs equally, however. I have three levels of hate for Christmas songs.

The first level are the songs that actually deal with the myth of Christmas. These include, O Holy Night, Silent Night, Joy to the World, etc. These I hate the least probably because they're the ones I hear the least. As we've become more secularized (taken the Christ out of Christmas perhaps?) these songs get fewer and fewer plays in the shopping malls, in the concert halls, be cool or be cast out. Wrong song.

The second level are the ones I just mentioned. These are the trite and vapid songs we've all heard thousands of times. Don't forget White Christmas, Silver Bells, and Up on the Rooftop. If your grandparents sang them in the 50's, they're probably in heavy rotation today. Also included in this second tier are the shitty "comic" songs like Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer and the songs that were written for terrible specials in the sixties. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and Frosty the Snowman get thrown in this category.

The third and most hated level are the Christmas songs done by otherwise talented artists. I heard a song the other day I'm sure was Fountains of Wayne. Turns out, I was right. It's called "I Want an Alien for Christmas." It's typical of FOW's music, in that it's catchy and fun. But why do they sink to the bottom with this bullshit?

How about Scott Weiland? Have yourself a warbly little Christmas.I like STP. I'll admit it. They have some good songs. Big Bang Baby is catchy as hell. Yet, this shit sucks.

Frat boys love Jack Johnson. He's not my thing, but I have no animus toward him. Correction: had any animus toward him. He's giving us Johnsons a bad name.

Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer sucks huge reindeer cock and always has. Only preschoolers think it's cute. Jack Johnson figured out a way to make it worse.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPp4zLj3208
How? By making it even more irritatingly whimsical and precious. I hope the next time he plays guitar with his bros at a bonfire his guitar acts as an accelerant and turns him into Christmas ash.

Ugh. Now I'm angry and disaffected. Kind of like the subject of this song.

Nowhere is the misfit or the dreamer so alone.

Real Quick

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sat, 03 Dec 2011 15:36:00 +0000

In a few weeks I'll be changing from lyndonandtheladybirds.blogspot.com to http://www.lyndonsopinions.blogspot.com Please change your bookmarks accordingly. I'll keep the same content, just a different name. See the post below for a fuller explanation. Type rest of the post here

Lyndon's Opinions

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Fri, 02 Dec 2011 19:32:00 +0000

I've been doing this blog since, HOLY SHIT, December 12, 2007. I could've sworn that it was 2009 when I started this thing. No matter. I've decided to make a few changes. First of all, I'm changing the name to Lyndon's Opinions. I chose Lyndon and the Ladybirds because it was cute and I wanted it to be a collaboration with my wife, the honorable Ladybird Johnson. However, she has her own blog now and it is a style and food blog. It's awesome, but it's her thing. She's contributed a few things over the years, but not enough to call it a true collaboration. Therefore, I'm retiring the name Lyndon and the Ladybirds in order focus exclusively on my dumb rants.

I also enlisted Samuel Johnson, the real name of LBJ's bro, to write and collaborate. He has, like Ladybird, done his own thing. I am happy for him and wish him success. Both are always welcome to contribute. This name change reflects a new start.

For now I'm going to stick with blogger. Tumblr is easier to use and Wordpress has more features, but blogger is what I'm used to. If that changes you folks will be the first to know.

In the coming weeks I'm going to change the layout and the color scheme. This green has served me well, but it's time to mix it up. I'll update some links and provide some new links to new blogs and people I like.

Have you followed me on Twitter to get the latest news and funny stuff I say?

I'm also going to look into monetizing this blog with some Adwords. I asked a friend who has successfully monetized her blog what I needed to do. She had one initialism for me: S.E.O. Stop Eating Olives. I don't like olives, so I told her that I never ate them. She said that she was telling me this because my breath smelled like olives.

After I brushed my teeth, she gave me another initialism to ponder: S.E.O. "It's the same one, goddammit!" I yelled. However, this time she said it stands for Search Engine Optimization. The higher in the rankings I get my blog when someone searches for a term, the more money I make if they click on an advertisement on my page. Or something. Regardless, I know I need to buy some keywords, some adWords, that people will search for and I'll make some money.

Unfortunately, I can't afford Google's high prices for their words. So, I'm going to buy some Excite Exclamations!!!, some AltaVista MoneySeeMoneyDo Words, and Dogpile FiDoughs to make some money. Once I build my brand there, I'll move onto Google, Bing and Yahoo. Who am I kidding? Just Google.

Beeteedub, before Google I used all three of those sites. To search for porn....

Here are some words I've purchased:
Apple
Apple Computers
Ceramics
Etsy
E-Bay
Cockrings
Spinach Pie
IPhone
I Suck at Golf
Blowjobs
Gingers
Grumble Grumble
Patton Oswalt
General Patton
Your Mom
Yo Mama
Dildos
Grandma
Grandma's Dildos
Alcoholics Anonymous
Captain Morgan
Tumblr
Journey
Steve Perry
Zune
Google
Global Warming
Jessica Biel
Stains
Twitter
Tweets
Twits
Tits
Titties
Boobs
Boobz
Elderly Lolita
Grandpa's Undies
Composting
Composting a Body
America Rules
America Sucks
Ambivalent Americans
Obesity
McDonald's
Why Do Jews
Why Do Muslims
Why Do White People
Why do Black People
Why Do Mexicans
Hold On by Wilson Phillips
Tina Fey
Tina Feyk
Shitted Beef
Henry Rollins
Henry Rollins College
Blister in the Sun
Blister in my Ass
Jar
JarJar
JarJarJar
asdfkjefkalsjfgsgsdg (My cat suggested that one)
How Do You
When Do You
Should You
Should I
Touch Me
Garfield
Huffington Post
Republicans
Democrats
Demoncrats
Tea Party
Boston Tea Party
Boston Steamer
Cleveland Steamer
Dear Abby
Dead Abby
Grace Kelly
Kentucky
KY
KY
KKKY
Gravity Boots
Fleshlight
Air Jordans
Air Jordache
King of Jordan
United Arab Emirates
United States of America
United States of Emirates
United Arab AMIRIGHT?
Ziggy Pop
Iggy Soda Pop
Duran Duran
Boy George
Boy, George
Boy, George You Really Fucked Up With Your Probation
Boy, George You Really Fucked Up that Probe
George W. Bush
George H.W. Bush
Jerbs

Stupid Dog

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 19:59:00 +0000

So we got a new stupid dog. She's a stupid German Shepherd (we think) and she's annoying as fuck. Our friends found her wandering down the street like the stupid animal she is and they picked her up. The Ladybird thought her stupid face was cute so she stupidly took her home. Her stupid ear was flopped over for the first few days and then it finally perked up like the stupid ear that it should be. She eats stupid cat turds all the time and her breath smells like fucking shit. We have to walk her three or four times a stupid day and she likes to chase our stupid cats.

Today she shit in her cage like the stupid dog that she is. Everyone tells me she's going to be huge and so smart. I believe that. A giant dog that outsmarts me. Great. Stupid people are right. I can't get any of my stupid work done because she's annoying as piss.

I try not to compare her with my other stupid dog, Kitty, who died like an asshole last year, but I do. But this is a chance to get it right. Like the fucking dickass I was, I didn't give Kitty as much attention as I should have during her formative years. Luckily, that stupid dog loved my stupid face despite me treating her like a stupid bitch. I more than made up for it in the later years when I grew up and stopped being such a selfish dickface.

Anyway, this stupid fucking dog better realize what a good deal she has. We named her Annie. Isn't that a stupidly cute name? Fucking Annie is such a stupid dog and that stupid name fits her like a glove. Too bad she doesn't understand her dumb name yet. Fucking stupid dog. I told Annie I'd take her for a stupid walk later. This walk will, inevitably, waste my stupid time because it'll take me away from my school work. Did I mention I have a fucking gay thesis due? I don't mean gay like two stupid homos being fabulous on each other, but gay like, "this thesis is the gayest shit that I've ever attempted and this stupid gay dog is causing me much stupid consternation."

My stupid cats are freaked out because Annie chases them and then they hiss and swat. Which is fine, but it's irritating when I have to rush to find the stupid water bottle so I can spray their stupid asses. Also, when I take her for a stupid walk I have to talk to my stupid neighbors with whom I have nothing in common. I didn't mind waving like jerks, but conversing like idiots when I have Twitter to get back to? No thanks. How about those stupid poo bags? Like a good neighbor, I stupidly pick up my dog's shit like a dumbass. Whatever, the more she poops outside the less she poops inside.

Finally, these stupid vets are goddamned expensive. These fucking gay vets want to give her an MRI to check for stupid preemptive hip displacia. Why the fuck would I do that? She's a stupid little puppy who annoys me to death. She's not going to have hip problems for years, as long as she doesn't kill herself by eating some stupid bullshit. I'm not going to drop $1100 on corrective surgery for her stupid hip and put her through that stupid recovery. She's already going to be uncomfortable like a wuss when we get her spayed.

Anyway, here's a stupid picture.

There's nothing here.
Told you, stupid.

Facebook, Shoes, and Jon Hamm

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 14:25:00 +0000

It's time for a break from Facebook. The mundane and pedestrian aspects of people's lives were eclipsing my own true understanding of a how a real relationship should operate. Take my cousin, for example. I get some kind of perverse joy out of watching the freak show that is her life. It's not Schadenfreude per se, but it entertains my to no end to watch her simply live. How she lives her life act in some ways as a warning as to how my life could have ended up. But it's not really who she is. She's a composite of many different parts and not the singular train wreck I make her out to be.

Nevertheless, the endless stream of meaningless chatter from everyone was getting too much to bear especially when I have so many other things going on. Not only was there too much stuff that didn't matter, it comes from the same five or six people that I have spoken with maybe two times! These people are nice, intelligent, feeling people but Facebook amplifies that one aspect of their personality so much that it becomes untenable. These people fit into the neatly defined categories they have cultivated for themselves. Perhaps they have had them cultivated for them as a pattern emerges due to what they post, but the outcome is the same. They become, in some sense, one-dimensional. For example, there's the "complainer" friend, or the "political" friend, or the "angry" friend, or the "LOL" friend. I have to disassociate myself from these people because if I don't, then that is how I will come to view them; not as whole individual whose company I enjoy on occasion, but as dogmatic pedants whose company I could live without.

Aside from this, I felt a compulsion to check Facebook multiple times a day. And there was never anything new under the sun. It was a feeling similar to when I smoked. Even when I wasn't smoking there was a nagging urge to have a cigarette, or make sure I had enough to get me through the day, or I had enough money, ad infinitum. This compulsion is scary to me because it's one step away from a full-blown addiction, in my mind at least. I had to cut it off at the pass and be disciplined enough to tell myself that Facebook is usually pretty boring and knowing more than I ever wanted to know about someone I barely like takes up valuable real estate in my head.

I'm not going to delete my account though. I'm just going to check it far less. Anyone who wants to contact me knows how and anyone who doesn't know how except through Facebook is out of luck.

A few more things:
1. The term "lady boner" is stupid. Ladies, stop using it. Guys, stop encouraging it.

2. I shined up my shoes and they are jammin'. I'm a regular Andy Dwyer. Here be pics.

Before

After

3. Jon Hamm is awesome. I love Mad Men, but on the WTF podcast he comes off as a really smart, cool dude. The actor he wants to emulate most is Jeff Bridges, go figure. Kudos to Jon Hamm!
Listen to it here.

School Starts...It Begins!

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sat, 24 Sep 2011 14:17:00 +0000

School has started. This means I'll be posting much less frequently. But don't fret! Here is a quote from my cousin's Facebook page. I derive endless fun from her posts.

I guess I should say briefly that I don't hate my cousin. We're related and I wish the best for her. However, her life choices drive me nuts and her internet demeanor is unintentionally hilarious. Ergo, I must share this hilarity with both of my readers.

You could say that, but you'd be wrong and deserve heaps of scorn.

I have nothing left to post! Please don't click or you'll be disappointed!

We're a Classy Bunch...

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 17:23:00 +0000

I get endless fun out of reading my cousin's Facebook updates. Here are a few great ones:

It was her birthday yesterday.

I think were going to a drum circle tonight idk yet tho. Its my day tho woot woot!!! I wish the Hubs were here to gimmie sum birthday sex tho... I miss him so much. My Endless Love. .

The sum total of her birthday sex was zero.

One of her friends wished her a happy birthday:

haPPy bDaY hoE! miSS uR faCE!

I wonder if the capitalized letters are code for something. Let's see here...
PP BDY E SS R CE
PimP BoDY Every SS officeR Can Exploit. She's a prostitute for the National Socialists! I knew it! Maybe the sum of her birthday sex was much higher than zero.

I have no idea what this means:

Happy birthday to you... I got you a jeti squirrel! You're gonna love it!!¡¡

¿Upside down exclamation points?

¡Ok!

This is her "pregamin" the night before her birthday.

is it bad im white girl ,wasted already???

Too which her friend responds:

Its neva bad to be white girl wasted at anytime bitch ♥ youuu

Neva eva bad to be white girl.

She recently went to see Lil Wayne and was quite excited about it. Her enthusiasm was actually kind of endearing. Here are some choice updates that begin with her already having seen the show and going backwards.

"i see ya lookin what ya lookin at nigga" "Say Hi to every hater take a picture screen saver, throw the middle finger tell em bitches see ya later" Some words of wisdom from Weezy F. Baby. . . You kno who im talking to LMFAO

imma lil obsessed with lil Wayne, is it retarted i just keep watchin him on the music on demand and you tube stating at the tats and ish. . hes so dirty and i love it!!! "if i die to day remember me like john lennon, buried in louis im talkin all brown linen!! ♥

like they say "it aint trickin if ya got it" lmfao

Who says that?

omg this tome tomorrow imma be seein my chocolate baby daddy. WEEZY F BABY here i cum ;)

I didn't realize Lil Wayne wrote a tome.

on my way to get my tix!!! I hope he lets me lick tha rapper!!! Aaahhhhhh ♥

Yikes. Don't get tattoo ink in your mouth.

That's enough for now. I can only take so much.

A Terrible Secret: Confessions of a Former Conservative

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Tue, 09 Aug 2011 13:23:00 +0000

Back when I was in my early twenties, I tried like hell to become a conservative. Why, you ask? Part of it was self-hatred and part of it was rebellion. I wanted to rebel against the common sentiment of my mostly liberal friends. This was right after September 11th and I had a lot of thinking to do.
I was 19 when September 11th happened. I'm talking about 9/11 2001, not September 11th 1978, my cousin Frank's birthday. Let's just be clear. There was a lot of anger and shock in this country. Beeteedub, I live in the United States, not Lithuania although I'm sure there was a lot of anger there as well. Perhaps some Lithuanians died in the towers, or perhaps a U2 concert was planned for that day in Vilnius and it was canceled because of fears of a terrorist attack. I don't know.

The anger over what happened was palpable even from my more liberal and moderate friends. I should say that at this point, I wasn't much of anything. I guess I was a liberal, but my critical thinking skills weren't honed and that's probably why the conservative mindset was so seductive to me; I was young, dumb and angry. The anger was there amongst my liberal friends as well. We were in agreement that what happened was "totally fucked up" and I heard more than once from my very conscientious and liberal friends that Afghanistan should be turned into a parking lot. I heard "parking lot" more times than I care to admit. Hell, I said it in the heat of the moment. Of course, the friends who vocalized these kinds of sentiments may not cop to them now, but they said it. And I don't hold it against them. We change, we grow, we (should) become better people and if I am the same person presently as I was at twenty, please shoot me.

9/11 set me on the road to conservative thinking. I was primed. I hated myself because I had zero education and no job prospects. I was easily influenced by the bloviating propaganda machine known as talk radio. I listened to Rush Limbaugh mostly, and not all that much. But I did listen to him enough to pick up his talking points. It was also a thrill to argue with liberal friends in defense of George Bush, against gay marriage, Iraq, etc. I went so far as to tell my friends that I'd switched my party affiliation from no party affiliation (you can't put labels on me!) to Republican. I never did. I didn't have the courage of my convictions because my convictions were mired in both horse- and bullshit.

That's why I can't take Republicans seriously now. The Tea Party? C'mon! I was the Tea Party, in that I advocated getting rid of all governmental agencies except for defense and was fat and hateful.

Luckily, I grew up. I lost some weight, quit smoking, got married to a wonderful progressive woman and became more self confident. When I started hating myself less and began to think critically I realized that most conservative positions were full of holes and espoused by sanctimonious and reactionary jingoists whose thinking was mushier than oatmeal. Raising taxes is bad all the time? Universal health care is a bad thing? Equal rights for homosexuals when it comes to marriage is bad? Evolution is a myth? We're a Christian nation? On and on. When exposed to even the most rudimentary scrutiny, these basic tenets of conservatism fall apart. If these are straw men than please, explain what conservatives actually believe. Vague notions like "individual freedom?" Fiscal responsibility? Please. Come back with something that has legs and doesn't just appeal to the lowest common denominator.

After my brief affair with big C Conservatism, I flirted with Libertarianism. It spoke more to the social ideals with which I agreed. They are against the war on drugs, for gay marriage, etc. However, the Libertarian position holds too closely that profit is the best and only way to create a great society. And, I don't disagree entirely. But, holding corporations and captains of industry as paragons of virtue almost nauseates me.

After jettisoning most of my conservative and libertarian views I finally understand what it is I believe. I continually test my ideas against the evidence and try very hard to not get caught up in confirmation bias or other fallacious reasoning. I am very aware of my own biases and prejudices but I try hard to find the truth in the political situation. I can only do that much.

Facebook Wisdom

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sun, 31 Jul 2011 14:27:00 +0000

"ok so im havin a good all nighter w a goos friend. I wish people would not judge people they dont kno tho. Circumstances arent always what they seem. And im thankful for someone giving me the benefit of tha doubt. But u kno what they say haters make tha world go round ♥"

Don't ask me how I'm acquainted with this person. I may just tell you. Despite their lack of grammatical skills, he/she dispenses their own brand of trailer park wisdom.

It is a truism that we should not judge people they dont kno tho. And it is also true that circumstances arent always what they seem. And of course, I know I would not be what I am today (a successful blogger, I'm up to seven followers! I get about five page views a month!) without some kind of doubt benefitting.

Yet, there is a flaw in this Facebookian philosophical discourse.
"But u kno what they say haters make tha world go round ♥"

First of all, how do I make the heart? What keys must I depress to get the graphical representation of a heart?

Secondly, who says that haters make tha world go round ♥? Is it the same people who said that the an apple a day keeps the haters away or that a noble spirit embiggens even the smallest hater? These aphorisms are truths for sure. Yet, I'm not so sure about haters making tha world go round. I thought haters could be merely brushed off of one's shoulders in a manner such as this:

Source: http://fuckyeswillowsmith.tumblr.com/post/1345000352
Yes, there's a website called fuckyeswillowsmith. Why? I don't know.

I guess I should start monitoring eBay for a hater brush.

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Alan West Picks on Small Women

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 15:01:00 +0000

I've known guys like Allen West. Guys that are so insecure that they think that women that show any sort of backbone are a threat to them. They take it as an affront to their manhood and can think of nothing to do but try to shout the woman down. Tea Party shill/Congressman Allen West has done this. Why? Because a diminutive congresswoman had the audacity (the gall!) to disagree with him and call his stupid ideas what they are: stupid. Not only that, she didn't even use his name but alluded to him.

Unfortunately, West is so insecure that he blew his top and sent an email to her office that called her "the most vile, unprofessional ,and despicable member of the US House of Representatives," and "not a lady."

A woman who disagrees with you is not considered a lady? I'd hate to see how he treats his wife and his daughters. God forbid they disagree with him, he probably shouts them down.

Allen: "I WANT STEAK FOR DINNER!"
Mrs. West: "Honey, I was thinking we should have fish."
Allen: "YOU ARE NOT A LADY! YOU ARE VILE AND THE WORST PERSON IN THE WORLD! I WILL HIT YOU NOW! ME BIG MAN! BIG MAN!"

He's not only a misogynist, but his feelings are easily hurt. That's the mark of an insecure man.

"I am bringing your actions today to our Majority Leader and Majority Whip and from this time forward, understand that I shall defend myself forthright against your heinous characterless behavior……which dates back to the disgusting protest you ordered at my campaign hqs, October 2010 in Deerfield Beach."

Poor, Allen! There were protests at your offices. That must have hurt your tender sensibilities.

This guy has aligned himself with the worst that America has to offer and when a woman challenges him on his bullshit he goes for the nuclear option. Anyone who voted for this guy must really hate themselves and the women in their lives.

Fat! So?

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Tue, 12 Jul 2011 19:27:00 +0000

Three posts thus far in July! I'm on fire. Don't get used to it, though. Once summer ends and school begins I'll be back on the once-a-month plan. Maybe not. Who knows?

I'll preface this post by saying that I may be way off the mark. Miles off the mark, even. But I don't think so.

I don't think there are many fat people in the world who are genuinely happy with their body weight. Fat people of both genders will often state that they're glad they have extra padding or they desire bigger women or men. That's fine. However, if you could really access the thoughts and feelings banging around in their heads, I would bet money that most, if not all, would opt to shed the weight in a minute. This shows to me that fat people may accept themselves as overweight, but are not content with themselves as overweight people.

I can't speak for all fat women or men. However, in my experience as a former fat person, I am much happier not having all the extra weight. I've detailed my struggles here, here, and here. Similarly, I've known people that have put on weight and all of a sudden, they're not as outgoing and talk more about their weight, almost apologizing for getting fat.

By the way, if a girl says she has gained weight and you don't think she has, and you're fatter, don't grab her belly and start pinching in an attempt to show that she has nothing to pinch. That's cruel and reflects poorly on you.

Anyway, I saw this picture the other day:

Original source, Reddit. This picture is from here:
http://fatandnotafraid.jigsy.com/entries/general/fat-friday-with-adele

That is the soul chanteuse, Adele, talking about her weight. I commend her for being so open about herself. Yet, the lady doth protest too much, methinks. That could be me projecting, but I am nearly certain that having the choice between being a normal weight and being overweight, she'd choose the former. She will probably have more money than she knows what to do with, but she'd give up a large portion to get rid of a large portion of herself.

That's the thing about being fat. It's a complicated issue and people put on (or hold on to) weight for a variety of reasons. Adele is probably happy with herself and her talent, but she's not happy with her weight. The way she talks about it seems to work as a defense mechanism. Before you can level your opprobrium at me, I'll talk about it first. It's a coping mechanism and is apparent in so many fat people I've run across.

I hid behind many different facades. I was the funny guy, the guy that didn't care, the guy who was exceedingly nice (I like to think I still am that one.) But in reality I was the guy that hid in the shadows and wished that girls he really liked were into big guys and I was also the guy that wore a shirt in the pool.

It wasn't until I lost the weight that I felt more free, both physically and emotionally. As a consequence I was able to focus on my winning personality and scored an awesome wife! Love ya, babe! Further, I didn't have to pretend. I guess I didn't have to pretend before, but I felt I had to to deflect away from my weight. Most fat people feel this way. Society puts a lot of pressure on both men and women to be thin. I don't think fat people want to be stick thin, but they want to be healthy. Being healthier equals being happier and when you resign yourself to being fat, for whatever reason*, there's a bit of rationalization that goes along with it. Self-loathing gives way to an acquiescent acceptance. This is where "happiness" gets thrown around, a bit falsely I believe.

I will never be happy with my body. However, I am happy that I have lost as much weight as I have and because of this, I will live longer provided no car crashes, cancer or pets- that-come-back-to-life-because-I-buried-them-in-the-Pet-Sematary, kill me. I know personally that being fat is such a complicated issue that it inevitably gets wrapped up in the emotions of the person and the people around them. But one thing stands out that is not complicated: Being a normal weight is preferable to being overweight and the vast majority of overweight people wish they could attain this. They are not happy with their extra weight and any fat person that tells you differently is probably lying to you and to themselves.

*I realize that losing weight is hard. I don't mean to imply that fat people stay fat because they can't or won't. Yet, there comes a point in every fat person's life where they think, "Gee whiz,* maybe I'll be this fat for the rest of my life. It's hopeless."

* I realize that not every fat person says "gee whiz." They should, though.

Spiders

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 17:04:00 +0000

Spiders are our friends. I have a gang of them outside my front door. Because they keep the mosquitoes to a manageable level, I don't broom them out of existence.

I wish I had a giant tarantula or a nice version of that spider from "It" that would wind its web around me each time I knew I was going to be in the open for an extended period of time. This tarantula is named Tim, by the way.

Tim will spring into action once I alert him that we'll be attending a cookout, for example. As soon a we're in the car, he'll deftly weave a protective layer of cobweb around my lower extremities, my chest and my face. Tim is so expert at weaving and the web material itself so pliable that I'm afforded a full range of motion. Up and down. Back back. A B A B. All over the place I'll go.

Are there advantages to being swaddled in Tim's arachnid excretions? Why, yes! For one, it will prevent mosquitoes from eating me alive. All mosquitoes I catch as I amble from person to person, hamburger in hand, mouth unobstructed to allow proper hamburger-to-mouth motion, are Tim's. I don't want them, and they're a good source of protein for Tim. Secondly, a web seems like a good protector from the sun's harmful rays, both UVA and UVB. Finally, having a tarantula in tow will provide me with lots to talk about. Imagine the frightened children!

At the end of the night, I'll collect the mosquitoes and other bugs that have met their fate on my body web and give them to Tim. I'll pull off the web and hose off outside; the web is sticky and I don't need my wife complaining about dragging a giant spider web through the house. Tired and non-sunburned, I'll loving place Tim in his bed at the foot of our bed. It's more of a box, really. A box for Tim's web. And my love. For Tim the tarantula.

Charlotte can suck it.

Am I Evil?

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Fri, 01 Jul 2011 12:33:00 +0000

I had a conversation last night with a friend's girlfriend about jokes and how they are perceived. My argument is this: A joke is funny if it's funny. Even if it's racist, sexist, about dead babies, about the handicapped, or just plain vile and improper, if a joke is cleverly constructed and gets to the heart of an issue without too much explanation it should be considered funny.

This does not mean, of course, that racist or sexist jokes have a place within polite society. Most of them are stupid and serve to diminish an entire group of people. However, there are some jokes that would make even the bluest comic cringe, that are funny. They're not funny because they deal with odious subject matter, but in spite of their odious subject matter some of these jokes can be hilarious if evaluated for their construction and the je ne sais quoi that make a joke funny.

I know I'm treading a fine line here. I run the risk of being called a racist or misogynist because I find some jokes that deal with this subject matter to be funny. And certainly, perhaps there is white privilege that comes into play here; I can find something funny precisely because it does not hit as close to home as it would if I were in the group that was being made fun of. Nonetheless, intelligent people can find humor in even the worst of circumstances and I like to think I can separate myself from the ideas that an appallingly offensive joke perpetuates and instead find the kernel of humor and appreciate that.

David Cross has a joke about how his friends who have kids always talk about how hard it is to be a parent. David Cross's response to this is something like, "That's not hard. What's hard is talking your girlfriend into her third consecutive abortion." His response turns his friends' grievances on their heads. Cross finds an interesting way of looking at the subject of parenting. Instead of complaining about the new life, he goes against the societal expectations and talks about the hardships inherent in eliminating the very "lives" he does not want to hear about.

What about Sarah Silverman's joke about the best time to have a baby is when you're a black teenager? Why is that funny? In this case, context matters. Coming from a petite Jewish woman, the beginning of the joke creates a expectation that is shattered by the end of the joke. I don't think Sarah Silverman has any animus towards black teens nor does she come off as condescending towards them. Instead, she creates a world with this joke in which we have no idea what will come next and she makes an observation about race that, despite its implications about poverty and race, works. It may be a racist joke, but it's a funny racist joke because it takes the audience by surprise and allows us to explore our own vicious humanity in a safe context.

I do not suggest that the ideas behind these jokes should be given equal weight in the marketplace of ideas, but that the jokes themselves live or die on their ability to poke at our id while acknowledging the fact that we do not have to give ourselves wholly over to the dark side. There are tons of dead baby jokes that have yet to be told.

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Summer Weiners

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sun, 12 Jun 2011 18:42:00 +0000

Finally! I finished my vampire LSAT (for now, until I get the score that shows that I sucked it up and have to retake it in October) and for now I'm maxin' and relaxin' and trying to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my summer. I want/need to do the following things in order to feel like I've accomplished something:

1) Do research for my thesis.
2) Read or re-read various Shakespeare. I want to re-read King John, Hamlet, and Lear. I want to read A Winter's Tale and Measure for Measure.
3) Stop having night terrors.
4) Touch up the living room with some housepaint.
5) Work out more.
6) Create a work of art so profound that the art critic for the New York Times is rendered speechless.
7) Destroy that work of art so the art critic for the New York Times in rendered speechless.
8) Remember that before I even begin this work of art (medium and subject TBD), I had paid a homeless heroin addict to harvest a kidney, a pituitary gland, and a larynx from the art critic for the New York Times, and THAT was what rendered Michael Kimmelman speechless.
9) Mark it 8, dude.
10) Stop saying that I listen to Hall and Oates unironically. I don't need to qualify my musical tastes for you hipster philistines.
11) Write fewer blogs. Once a month is killing me.
12) Find out which of my five cats' claws are sharpest and then pierce my nipples with the sharpest claw.
13) Go to Spencer's Gifts to pick out nipple ornaments.
14) Buy a speed chute.

15. Create a Mad Max-style Thunderdome and get Tina Turner's legs to perform. The rest of Tina Turner will be Tina Turned away at the door. What am I, made of money?
16. Stop to think about the consequences of my actions.
17. Steal a baby from its stroller, raise it to be my full-time cook.
18. Tell the parents I see in the mall that they shouldn't have had kids because they're too ugly.
19. Stop to think about the consequences of my actions.
20. Learn to dive into a swimming pool. Seriously, Lyndon, why can't you do that?
21. Be funnier.(Maybe that should be number 1.)

Also, to get political on you for an arc second,

As a good consequentialist/Utilitarian I had to change my mind about Weiner's commitment to resignation. As of last night I wanted him to resign because he dishonored his post. However, although he has acted unethically and hasn't comported himself well, his obligation to his constituency and to the democratic cause will provide the greater good to the community, however you define it.

Therefore, I cannot support any call for his resignation, because his actions as a congressman have far greater impact than his actions within his family. He's a cad, but he's a good congressman.

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Basketball

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 21:04:00 +0000

I don't care about basketball. In fact, I think if you added up the amount of time I've spent watching pro or college hoops, it would amount to less than a quarter of a game. Are games divided into quarters or halves? Nonetheless, I am aware that it's the NBA playoffs and if my Facebook feed is any indication, the Miami Heat are in it. All this playoff talk got me thinking last night, as I was trying desperately to fall back asleep at 2:30 in the morning, ugh, stupid brain, shut the fuck up!

Focus, Lyndon, focus.

As I was trying to fall asleep, I somehow got to thinking about Michael Jordan, the King Of Basketball. The guy won six championships with the Chicago Bulls. That's pretty damn impressive, and won't ever be repeated, or three-peated. You get that? Huh? Huh?

Despite his Baldness' basketball badassery, he wasn't the only one on the team. As I thrashed and tossed and turned, I tried to remember the other players on the team.

Come with me now, won't you, as we rediscover the other players that helped the Bulls get their six championship gold-plated jockstraps.

Michael's right-hand-man was Scottie Pippen. He was the first to come to mind. Remember him? He was Garfunkel to Jordan's Simon. He was Bert to Jordan's Ernie. He was B to Jordan's A.

Next, we have B.J. Armstrong. I don't know anything about him. Look him up and get back to me.

After B.J. Armstrong comes the man in glasses himself, Horace Grant.

Of course, we can't forget about Dennis Rodman. He played during the second wave of finals.

After Rodman, we have the biggest guy on the roster, Kazaam himself, Shaquille O'Neal.

The secret to the Bull's success was good fundamentals. Those were provided in spades by Helen Keller.

Jordan wouldn't have much of an offense unless he had a partner that went hard in the paint. Carl Sagan had the instincts to know when to shoot and when to let Jordan shine.

There was no better shooting guard who could also facilitate a baseline drive than the current host of the Best Show on WFMU, Tom Scharpling.

Jordan's down the lane go-to guy had a special ESP-like connection with Jordan. He could sense when Jordan was going to pass and was always there to complete the alley oop. Mike Seaver AKA Kirk Cameron continuously brought it hard. Jordan later complained though that Cameron was always proselytizing and telling him he shouldn't smoke cigars.

Jordan always maintained that of all the jumpers in the league his all-time favorite fadeaway jumper was this wooden chair. The chair was scary accurate on the fadeaway and deadly on the foul line.

Jordan could always count on the color blue to help him execute his patented underhanded give-and-go maneuver. The color blue later remarked, with tears in its eyes, that Jordan "taught me everything I know about basketball. He was hard on us rookies, but he teased out of love. You could really learn a lot. Class act."

Finally, rounding out the roster of the most talented Bulls players during Jordan's reign of championships was this Michael Jordan baseball card. Dude could shoot!

Those are the ones I could remember from last night. Can you think of other notable players that I missed?