Yet another article from a personal user that calls for more research on the various effects of marijuana and possibly its use as a replacement for psychiatric medications, due to its psychoactive or psychedelic properties.
I am now convinced that psychiatric medications do more harm than good, and certainly the benefits of marijuana far outweigh the risks (you cannot o.d. on it, for example).
Por fin se empieza a derretir todo. Es cierto que la nieve es el ícono del invierno, pero como muchas otras cosas, llega el momento en que después de caer de rodillas en un charco congelado o de no ver el sol por varias semanas, uno está listo para lo que sigue. La primavera trae clima benigno, un poco menos de sweaters y bufandas al salir y más luz solar, aunque para algunos la oscuridad nunca termina. Todo depende de cómo quiera uno ver las cosas y qué tanto quiera abrir los ojos.
Finally everything starts to melt. It is true that snow is the icon of winter, but like most things in life, there comes a moment when, after landing on your knees on a frozen pond or not seeing the sun for several weeks at a time, you are ready for what’s next. Spring brings a more benign weather, a few less garments to wear and more sunlight, even though for some, the darkness never ends. It all depends on how you want to see things and how much you want to open your eyes.
See also at topic
So, the other night I took a look around my room. I looked at my dresser and my night stand. If you would have told me this time two years ago, that I would have tons of pill bottles layin around, and I would practically live in the pharmacy, and be in Dr.’s office every few weeks, I wouldn’t believe you. When I was growin up, I was the one kid in class that NEVER got sick, and perfect attendance. I thought it was weird. But I didn’t really pay it any attention. I got sick for one day, for a few hours, then that was it. But NOW….. oh how the times have changed. About two years ago, I started to not feel like myself. I was always in the pain. How do you go from never being sick, to always in pain. I always had migranes, but they had stopped. But as of two years ago, they came back, and they came back HARD! The straw that broke the camel’s back was, one weekend I had a ‘migran’ that kept me in bed for three days. “/ If I knew then what I know now, I probably would have ran to the ER. But I hated the Dr. They never did anything for me. They never gave me anything that worked, for my migranes, so I just stopped going. After that weekend that I spent in the bed, and after missing soo much class time, from being home in bed, not being able to do much moving, I decided to go to the Dr. I was scared out of my mind. I had no idea what she was gonna tell me. But I bit the built and my nerves.
She did things that ordinary Dr’s don’t do on the first visit. I thought I was just going to get a physical, and she was gonna ask me some questions. She did that, AND she did blood work. That surprised me. Not too soon after I went to see her, who by the way is my mother’s Dr also, we went down to Maryland to my aunt’s house for Memorial Day/vacation. That weekend, I got a phone that would rock my world, and one that I was not expecting. She told me that my blood work had come back. *heart drops* First she told me the not so bad news. I had a calcium/vitamin D deficiency…. Ok, I can live with that. A slight Asthma. *shrug* Ok….Then she went on to tell me that I tested postive for Sickle Cell…… WTF?! I swear I didn’t hear anything she said after that. Sickle cell? Me? How? WHY? My vacation had officially been ruined. How was I supposed to enjoy after that. Usually, people who have sickle cell know from birth. All I knew was that I had the trait. But apparently, over time, my trait had developed. FML! I had no idea what this meant for me. All I ever heard about Sickle cell was bad things, and when I did my own research, it didn’t really make me feel any better…….
I’m not gonna lie, I was lowkey depressed. I had no idea what this meant for the rest of my life. From what I read, this means complications with my heart…(keep reading), complications in pregnancy, passing it on to my child, long hospital stays…. The list goes on. But I had the best people around me. They prayed, and hard, and so did I. I was in a BAD place, and I had to get out. I had to pick up the pieces and figure out how to move forward. But of course the bumps in the road didn’t stop there.
One day I had gotten THEE worst chest pain ever. It definitely threw me off, but I didn’t know what to make of it. Then it kept happening. I knew something wasn’t right. I would get these pains, and my heart would skip a beat or two, or it beat too hard or to fast. Something in my brain was screaming SOMETHING IS WRONG! So one day, I was in class, and it was so bad I had to gather myself and walk out. I just couldn’t do it. I came home, and got in the bed. The next day, I went to the nurse, and she gave me some bs story. That didn’t work. So I went to my Dr. Got an EKG, and the first one came back ‘normal’. I really wasn’t satisifed with that, but the Dr said so, so I took it at that. Time went on, and the pain never stopped. I figured it came from the sickle cell. But one day I had come home from class, it was becoming a problem. It had been about three days of this constant pain. So I asked my best friend to take me to the ER. A few weeks later, my Dr sent me to have an echocardiogram (2D ultrasound of my heart). I should have been used to waiting for these phone calls by now. I had an idea of what it was. But the wait, and the idea of hearing come from the Dr’s mouth scared the sh*t out of me. So my results came back, and sure enough…. It’s called Mitral Valve Prolapse, it when my left valve sometimes flutter back and forth, cause irregular heart rythyms, and chest pains. Shit just don’t get no better does it?…. smh And of course me being me, I did my research. And again ….. The side effects from the meds alone had me lookin at the screen like WTF?… Well we can just add that to the pill bottles on the dresser. “/
All this going on, while I’m thinking, how can I be the sick one, when I have to be Superwoman. I’m the strong man in my house. My mother, who has R.A., can’t do much, so that leaves me. How this happening to me?! I didn’t get it. Of course, I thought it wasn’t fair. Me being the private person I am, I don’t have many people I trust, so I didn’t have many people I could keep by my side through all of this. But I swear I have the best friends in the world!! My sister Rosanna, has been by my side through EVERYTHING! From every panic attack to every dreadfully painful day and night to waiting for those phone calls. Then came my wifey, Lucy! From the first day we met, we clicked. But little did we know we had more than that night in common. She understands my pain, and my pride. She understand the fear I have of people seeing me at my worst. And then there’s my closest male friend. I call him Superman. He knows me, well, a lil too well. And it’s a lil scary. Lol But he understands everything. And he’s there. I am soooo grateful for them.
I took a look around, and I smirked. Idk what this journey is about. But I’m learning as I go. It’s by no means easy. But I’m on it, and I can’t stop.
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The choice of hair care products around today is truly amazing, and ranges available only keep growing. Until the arrival of the first after the shampoo in the 1970s, shampoo base was only available. If there was a “normal” or “greasy hair, there was a shampoo for you, with the only other change – one for the treatment of dandruff.
When the air conditioner first arrived on the scene, it revolutionized the hair care and, finally, on loose hair may be behind us. What was not predictable is the proliferation of products that what lies ahead, and each type Hair is supported soon. Special products has begun in preparation for what can be done with your hair once it was only a matter of choosing the right shampoo once came conditioning shampoo matching the Today These days, comes with a host of other hair products – gels, mousses, serums, waxes and varnishes, welcome to buy the whole range for perfect hair.
I have a Medicinal Chemistry test on Weds worth 45% of my grade and a Pathophisiology, Pharmacology & Therapeutics test on Friday worth 30%.
I'm 7 lectures behind on PP&T. Oops.
This is one of the reasons I love love love UMD SOP. MEDIASITE! It's this wonderful website where almost all of our lectures are posted for the Shady Grove campus to view as well as slackers like me who just have put it off, haha.
I'm really enjoying pharmacy school, mediasite luxury aside. I feel like I've grown up and am FINALLY on my path. My only wish is that I would be doing better in school! I've been doing well, but it's NOTHING like my straight A's in undergrad. I remember when I felt like a personal failure if I got below an A. LOL. Man, I deserve what's been coming to me since I got that pompous, haha.
School aside, Life is wonderful.
Today is my Auntie Deedee's 57th birthday! Poor woman had an accident and fell down some steps last month and broke her tibia in 7 places! She's recovering really well thank goodness. For her birthday celebration, we had crispy pata, pancit, shrimp and Mom's delicious BBQ ribs. Finger lickin good. We also had a Passion Fruit cake from Yia Yia's bakery in Essex. So delicious!
After dinner, I dropped Nicole off at her friend Apple's Sweet 16. But, not before stopping by Rita's in Joppa for FREE ITALIAN ICE! First day of Spring! Definitely one of my favorite days. 
Hughes is out tonight with Jimbo playing some music then going to watch UFC. Which is great for my school work schedule… if I got the motivation to actually start it! You know what? I just saw him last week and it feels like an ETERNITY! I just can't wait to be able to see him everyday and not have to worry about this whole long distance thing. But, that's another 3 years away unless I can convince him otherwise. I don't know though, I've been batting my eyes for 2.5 years and it still hasn't gotten him up here, HAHA. He'll probably be back here again for KY formal on April 30. WHICH by the way, just reminded me that I have to text Jen about sending out a survey to the brothers! —> Noted.
Anyway, I'm going to watch lectures. SECOND entry of the day. Holy moly. The world is going to end.That night we all went to a churrascaria or Brazilian steakhouse. Churrasco is the cooking style, which translates roughly from the Portuguese for 'barbecue'. Camila and I had planned carefully and we were all booked into the best one in Rio: Porcao, or the big pig! The word barbeque for Irish people conjurs up an image of back gardens, spits, charcoal, burgers, sausages and chicken wings. For the more adventurous it might mean marinated chicken breasts, scallops, monk fish, squid and some quickly flipped mackerel. For the Brazilian’s it’s very very different. Picture a huge salad and sushi table 4/5 meters in circumference with lots of exotic cheeses, pastas and vegetables with a generous offering of Japanese style foods and cheese breads. This is the starters offered with local Gurana drink, coconut juice, soft drinks and wines. Next you get a picture of a cow divided into over 13 cuts. You also get 2/3 waiters, per person! On your table, like a beer matt, you have a green piece of cardboard on the front and red on the back. When you flip it to green, you are giving a signal to the waiters to come at you as quick as possible with as many meets as possible for you to eat. When the signal in red, it mean’s leave us alone, to try digest what we had eaten. And so on and on it goes. Plate after plate. Dish after dish. Drink after drink. But the cow is only half the story! Then comes the chicken, all sorts of fishes and they don’t call it the Big Pig for nothing. Lot’s of bacon on offer and lot’s of fillers like melted mozarella cheese, empanadas, onion rings, fried banana fritters and chips all a mere nod and a wink to a waiter away. Churrascaria’s are built for international rugby teams that haven’t ate for days. They are built for gormandisers of meat who delight on salty, perfectly cooked, slivers of tender rump or picanaha steak that’s juices are just as nice as the meet itself. They are unforgettable food and drink marathons. If ever I was on death row and a I was asked what would be my last meal. A churrascaria standard all inclusive menu in the Big Pig, Rio, would be my unanimous choice.
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“The seizures have stopped.” “Thank god.” “She’s not out of the woods yet. Her heart is fatigued and we’ll need to run more tests to determine the extent of the brain damage. A lot of that will only become clear over time. She has a long road ahead of her. Her blood results came in while you were gone.” “She told me what she took, before her heart stopped.” “She’s lucky to be alive. When she’s fully conscious and capable, the police will want to speak with her. If they haven’t already, they’ll need to speak with you too.”
Dance harder. Dance faster. Numb the pain. Be more interesting. Seek revelations. Go on a spiritual journey. Feel good. Cope with mental health. Have fun. Trip out. I’m a fucking superhero!
Saying no to drugs isn’t good enough anymore. It’s not realistic with the cornucopia of chemicals available. Not everyone wants to say no. You don’t have to say no.
In the past, I’ve been ostracized for my thoughts – labelled a critical judge. I’ve ended friendships because I can’t be the saviour; because I can’t sit idly by and watch someone throw their life away. I’ve had hate mail and been threatened. I’ve been told I don’t know how to party – how to have fun. Well ya know what? Fuck that. I say these things because I care. Deeply. I say these things because I know better.
I partied my way through the aughts*. Sure, I’ve got some fun and crazy stories that would make the likes of Hunter S. Thompson blush. You know what else I’ve got? Holes in my brain, friends dead from overdoses (friends who said they knew what they were doing), friends dead from addictions (friends who said they could handle it), ended friendships because of addictions (because they couldn’t handle it and I couldn’t save them) and a raging passion for people to smarten the fuck up (because I’m tired of losing friends).
For fuck sakes, know your damn source. I can’t stop you from taking illicit chemicals. I have no power or control over that. What I can ask is that you know what you’re buying, know what it’s cut with and know how much to take. Do you really need to chase the high all weekend? Yeah, I’m sure you’re super smart. You’re a super hero, right? You just party on weekends and have done that for so many years now, that you’re a pro. Well, even pros can have their heart stop beating. Are you smart enough to start your own heart when it stops?
Hell, maybe it’s just brain death. That’s okay, right? There are machines that’ll keep you breathing and your body warm so your family can come, hold your hand, and weep. That’s okay, because you knew what you were doing, right?
“I just party on weekends…Thursday’s practically the weekend…Ugh, it’s Monday and I’m still fucked up from Thursday…God, I feel like shit.”
Smarten up.
[*Aughts: A decade such as that from 1900 to 1909 A.D., or 2000 to 2009, whose digit in the tens place is zero.]
Lil Wayne’s Federal and State convictions could Run Concurrent
I think Lil Wayne really needs to get an OJ Simpson type legal team, because he is really fighting for his life. Another day of freedom is not guaranteed to Lil Wayne. They can forever come up with new charges.
He is said to have had a lawyer attempt to postpone the Federal case in Arizona. Is that really a wise legal maneuver? There is a term called concurrent sentencing and what happened in New York City can be rectified in sentencing him to serve his sentences concurrently.
A concurrent sentence is a cumulative sentence when two convictions are served in prison at one time, basically in one place. A Federal and State Conviction can be served together even if the convictions took place in different times.
It would seem that if Lil Wayne is to be the fall guy for the Cash Money and Young Money entourage he should go after the best deal and accommodations. The case in Arizona was a DEA (Drug Enforcement Agency) bust and therefore Federal. Federal prison terms are usually longer than state conviction sentencing, but the accommodations are more advantageous for a man in the entertainment business at celebrity status.
If Lil Wayne gets convicted by the FEDS and goes to court ASAP or immediately, the state of New York has the responsibility to see to it that he makes his appointments required by law and a Federal case requires his attendance.
Meanwhile the FEDS want to increase the bail to the $150G area, when he is being held and is incarcerated in the state of New York. I have to watch this one, because a blessing in disguise would be for the FEDS to remove him from Rikers Island and send him to MCC-Detention Center in Manhattan a Federal holding facility. Then a wise move would be to have his case moved from Arizona to New York City because it is now his domicile. Then he just might get a concurrent sentence, with excellent legal representation.
What is the sentencing guidelines for a two time loser in the Federal System for the crime he allegedly committed is at question, however regardless the Federal Court System is not limited to Arizona can the case can be moved and should be moved to New York City.
Steve Harvey the comedian, author, actor and radio personality is said to be a adviser of Lil Wayne. Well this is advise to be considered seriously with a legal team and can be the basis of his choice for legal representation.
By Ryan Osborne
After SI.com reported the story, Texas Rangers manager Ron Washington confirmed rumors that he failed a drug test administered by MLB and tested positive for cocaine last July. According to Washington and Rangers GM Jon Daniels, Washington notified the Ranger front office of his one time use of the drug before the results came in. In an interview during an FSN spring training telecast, Daniels and club president Nolan Ryan held off firing the manager at the time for the betterment of the organization despite feeling “pissed off” that the issue arose at such a crucial point in the season. However, this incident does put added pressure on Washington to make the playoffs being it the last year of his contract and especially with Ryan as one of the new owners of the club. Washington and Ryan have not had any open disagreements, but the two certainly don’t see eye to eye on several issues, so don’t be surprised if Washingtonis dismissed at season’s end if the Rangers don’t make the playoffs for what would be the twelfth consecutive year.
If there are people who will survive in this planet without drinking any liquid beside their old habits, it’s the smokers.
The reason I am trying to say this is that, most of the people especially men when one tries to ask them the reason behind their smoking habits, they say, they are quenching thirst. Not knowing that, the same cigarette that quenches their thirst is a big threat to their lives.
Biblically, God created us in His own image and likeness. But was smoking cigarette part of his creation work? I beg to differ, for this matter.
From this perspective, smokers are destroying their health, at the same time, destroying God’s creation. Surprising enough, now days, as one walks along the streets, women too are smoking. Some are not bothered of the dangers they are exposing their unborn to, hence doubling the risk, that can result to chest problems.
Smoking also increases the risk of getting emphysema which is lack of breathing in that many may lack proper fitness of the body because of lack of exercising because of shortage of breath. You will find that even though here in Nairobi smoking in the city centre is banned what about other streets where it is done secretly.
I wonder if it is ignorance that that makes people not read the instructions at the bottom of the cigarettes packets or they just enjoy emitting the smoke out of their mouths like trains. I have seen on TV people’s legs being cut off all because they contracted cancer through smoking or maybe just people want to learn through their own experience.
But I would gladly like to urge our fellow people especially the youths and also our fathers and mothers please let us stop smoking it is absolutely fatal to our health.
KENNINGTON: So what’s the gig?
ROGER: A new drug, “Perplexia”
KENNINGTON: What are we talking about here? Cure for Cancer? Aids treatment? Night time antics assistance?
ROGER: Traffic lights
KENNINGTON: Traffic lights?
ROGER: Yeah, real problem apparently. Causes Sustained Blinking Apathy or “Red Eye”
KENNINGTON: As in photos or flights?
ROGER: No, as in sudden, prolonged involuntary blinking you can’t be bothered to stop
KENNINGTON: At red lights I presume?
ROGER: Amber
KENNINGTON: Genius. So how many people suffer from this Red Eye?
ROGER: No idea
KENNINGTON: They didn’t give you any figures?
ROGER: They can’t, I’m told it’s a pre-emptive societal condition treatment
KENNINGTON: Excuse me?
ROGER: It means that no one has ever been diagnosed with it but they are pretty sure it’s just a matter of time.
KENNINGTON: So how do they know even know it exists?
ROGER: Well, you know about IOS?
KENNINGTON: Irate Organ Syndrome?
ROGER: Well six weeks before that hit the market no one had been tested for even a mildly disgruntled liver
ROGER: The drug launched and the masses were exposed to ad campaigns featuring spleens taunting their owners and kidneys verbally abusing blind children. Suddenly every housewife west of Cape Cod wants a magic pill to take care of their recently discovered ranting lung. Within a month Angrilex was the number one selling organ placation treatment on the market.
KENNINGTON: What does that have to do with Perplexia?
ROGER: Same people, different drug.
KENNINGTON: So how potentially serious is this Sustained Blinking Apathy?
ROGER: Well understand that all anyone has are projections and simulations at this point. They really need someone or something to be diagnosed before they can truly understand its effects. So far all we have right now is acute embarrassment. There’s not much worse in life than being stuck at the lights looking like you are rapidly winking at the traffic police.
KENNINGTON: And that’s a serious enough issue to warrant a multi-million dollar investment in this drug?
ROGER: Just remember Irate Organ Syndrome – billions of dollars in revenue. BILLIONS!
KENNINGTON: So any side effects with this Perpexlia?
ROGER: Oh loads. They tested the drug on a bunch of Swedish cab drivers last summer.
KENNINGTON: Anything serious?
ROGER: Premeditated Aural Anorexia for a start
KENNINGTON: Aural Anorexia???
ROGER: Horrific business. Your ears essentially refuse to eat any kind of noise. You can still hear but you aren’t getting any nutritional benefit from the sound. Three weeks later and your ears are parting company with your head and you end up vacuuming them up off the kitchen floor. Screws you for sunglasses too.
ROGER: There’s also Egyptian Artery. The patient’s blood gets confused and can only find its way to the ankles. Within a couple of hours the patient’s feet invariably explode. I’m no Doctor but I can imagine that’s going to seriously balls up your weekend.
KENNINGTON: This is a joke.
ROGER: No Joke. Prime Digit Digits also cropped up. Multiple cases of patients’ second, third, fifth and seventh fingers rapidly forming blue collar workers’ rights groups to start fighting “the man”. It’s pretty serious when that man is you and you are driving a fare from Enköping to Stockholm at 3 o’clock in the morning. None of them ended well.
KENNINGTON: Any “classic” side effects we need to consider? You know Death? Diabetes? Cancer? Infertility? The usual suspects…
ROGER: Oh, all of the above, goes without saying. Think of it as a friendly poison that stops you blinking when you are stopped in the car.
KENNINGTON: So we are being asked to market a drug for a non-existent condition that “may” cause extended blinking at traffic lights?
ROGER: Sustained Blinking Apathy please
KENNINGTON: Sorry, Sustained Blinking Apathy
ROGER: Better
KENNINGTON: The same drug which might also take your ears offline, blow your feet clean off, increase your chances of hand mutiny, expose you to a host of potentially terminal illnesses and ultimately fast-track you to good old fashioned death?
ROGER: Don’t forget erectile disenfranchisement
KENNINGTON: And wang depression
ROGER: So you are clear on the brief then?
KENNINGTON: Crystal. So how big is the pill?
ROGER: Not a pill. It’s a two part semi-effervescent tonic. Part peaches, part cream. Well I say cream…
KENNINGTON: Novel. So this is FDA Approved?
ROGER: They are waiting to see how good the ads are before they go anywhere near it.
shit!….a flash of blonde…straight out the elevator and directly at me. for the tiniest fraction of a thought i was fooled but then realized my error. it was just the way she moved that first gave it away. didn’t even need to see her face. memories. strange circumstance put me onto this thought in the first place. the espionage, the confusion, the plan i was acting and formulating in a sorta yin yang kind of balance.
yeah. that’s right. i was driving home in the spring fog one night. must have been at least 1am. the blonde, that i had been partying with for some length of time, now wanted to drive. we’d had a few drinks early in the night but that was at dinner and before the pot and the movie, so i figured no problem she should be fine by now.
we pulled to the shoulder near a gas station and switched positions. that old vw was such a piece of shit and light. 2 door and creamy. but so cheap on gas fuck me. anyhow this blonde takes over the wheel. how the hell did we even end up together again? how long ago? wow it’s such a blur.
as she pulls away and begins to accelerate, paradise city comes on the radio. the guns n roses song. felt kinda good. almost sensual. both of us kinda singing along having fun. we were at the part of the song where it really speeds up when i first noticed my perspective on the situation changing. i was so subtle when the reflections in her window began to twist and contort instead of the usual steady rhythm that is the speed limit. then it hit me. the reflections weren’t changing….we were changing in relation to what could be reflected. very unsettling as your mental and physical senses struggle to achieve kharmany.
i seem to recall rotating in a corkscrew motion, a feeling that turns your gut in on your self. a series of unhinged events. like going down twenty floors in an elevator and doing 360s the entire way. i saw a post rotate around the door window. then nothing. nothing to see. nothing to hear. nothing to feel. only sirens. that’s it. next thing i know im awake in my bed alone? very lonely. the empty feeling of consciously becoming aware of a dream. when the beauty of surreal fades from focus.
getting up i walked through the dining room. coffee i recall thinking. i wanted coffee. so focussed on my caffeine needs i didn’t even see the card house built on the dining table until i bumped the chair and watched the cards cascading down. sliding in all directions on the table and floor. i thought about cleaning up the mess, but then felt fine after just looking at it for a moment. thank christ i bought that 3 minute Tim’s coffee maker. i couldn’t wait much longer and still didn’t wait till the pot was full to grab a cup.
Jack. goddamn it was Jack. i had gone outside with a coffee and smokes and started talking to Jack. he put me on to this. he was waiting for me on the platform outside his house. sitting there. bright-eyed and alert. you could just see that he had something to say.
he didn’t seem to know what i was talking about regarding the night before. and it didn’t seem to matter at that point. not until i caught this flash of blonde now had it even occurred to me. fuck what did Jack and i talk about? who was that blonde? was she important? jesus im confused right now.
i stepped out of the elevator and went outside for the smoke i was craving. cloudy afternoon. very grey skies but no rain. just more melting. the concrete blended into the buildings which in turn offered little contrast to the vast overhead view. a short filthy little man with a scruffy face caught my eye now. he looked like he belonged under a bridge. a winter hat of some sort that flapped over his ears and rose to a point above his head. almost pontifical. sitting on the sidewalk curb wearing defeat from head to toe.
“how’s it going brother?” i knowingly asked and offered him a smoke which he took with a shrug and raised eyebrows.
after only a few moments he painfully stated “i gotta figure this out”. “get myself back on track”.
i stood silently for a few seconds staring at the symbol of double snakes around the staff that was so prominent on both sides of the doorway across the street. the place had the feel of a college town with the narrow streets and trees growing out of sidewalks on the fully used real estate. ”how do you mean” i finally asked softly.
“the truth” he said ” i gotta find the truth”.
“what kind of truth?”
“the real truth man. i saw it before. and i need to work it out so i can get myself back on track”
he was shaking his head in opposition to something. wrong thinking maybe. focus issues. i was curious. this man clearly knew something i didn’t. i wanted to know more so i apologized “im sorry, im not sure i follow you”.
a soft hippie kinda of voice with a child’s innocence like his can be very compelling when it starts to stretch out to you. “way back man, when the 7 balls and the 7 brothers were in the sky. i was there when they took seeds from the whale and put them into the next ball. the sun. i was there. i had to fight a dragon. there in the whale. i was there. the trees were straight then”.
jesus what the fuck does talk like that even mean. doesn’t make any sense to me but it never felt out of context. Jack had said something about straight trees? i thought he just meant poles and didn’t know the word for them. twelve of them i think he said. whatever no mind right now. the little bearded man was talking again.
“you get it now man” he nodded at me. “i gotta use that knowledge and get myself back on track” he illustrated his point by waving his fingers in a circular blessing kind of move.
“sorry brother im a pretty free-thinker myself but im not sure im gettin it all”
he continued nodding and added a shrug. pulled himself up off of the curb and wandered off into the shadows. im sure just to find a smoke someone put out prematurely.
hm maybe a coffee will wake me up and get me back on path. remember what the purpose of all this investigation is. must have been that accident. i’ve heard stories about things like this. i mean i know who i am and everything. it’s not like i got amnesia. im just not sure why i feel the need to investigate this monstrosity so badly. but it does feel like something of the heart of the matter lay within these walls in their odd and awkward arrangements. shouldn’t be too hard to find a cup around here so off i went.
Dear Robert Downey Jr.,
I hate you.
My hate is not unfounded. I was not turned off by one of your many dazzling performances of songs. Oh no, I was turned off by your attitude. You’re like a white Kanye West just waiting to interrupt someone. I wouldn’t be surprised if you interrupted Jude Law as he went up to get an award for playing Watson in Sherlock Holmes. In fact, I’m surprised you and that movie didn’t get more recognition. Just goes to show you the many uses of green screen and dumb plots.
Now, I remember fondly the night I first discovered you. I watched Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang with my mother. She knew who you and Val Kilmer were, while I was a young film fledgling and just learning the ropes. Your performance? It was spot on and it was hot watching you make out with Val Kilmer. The credits even had you singing and omg…I sang along and downloaded the song…it’s still on my ipod…douchebag.
Next, I saw you in A Scanner Darkly, which was generally a WTF film that you somehow did…amazing in. Just…WTF. Seriously. WTF.
Then, I saw you in Iron Man. Granted, I didn’t really like it and I didn’t like your character (Tony Stark = You with a big business), but it had some good action sequences and your computer was voiced by PAUL MOTHAFUCKIN BETTANY. Mhm.
I saw you in Sherlock Holmes, and I pretty much had multiple orgasms throughout the entirety of the film.
After watching Sherlock Holmes, I saw interviews with you and Jude Law and my oh my…I have reason to believe that you are actually fucking your co-stars. The chemistry between you and Val? Gay. The way you handled Anton Yelchin? Chickenhawk. You and Jude? GAY BUTT RAPE. Seriously. You were almost in his lap at one point and he looked too scared to say anything. Stop raping people, you asshole :[
Also, quit being an asshole. You act so arrogant and proud. “Oh I’m Robert Downey Jr.! I kicked a bad drug habit and make award winning films and shows! I can sing! I can act! I’m kind of old but look good shirtless! I can do anything! Oh look at me be an asshole and you all LOVE IT!”
Well I don’t love it, sir. I actually wish that I didn’t feel overwhelming hate just from seeing your face, because I get turned on at the same time, and I’m sure that’s not healthy.
Why don’t you do everyone a favor before you go around itnerrupting people at award shows, m’kay?
I’m sure this will make me and many others stop hating/loving you and just love you. Oh and if you decide you’re too good for my advice, then go snort a coke/heroin/meth mix from Jude’s ass crack.
Sincerely, Daiya.
P.S.: In the Sherlock Holmes sequel, you and Jude should have a shirtless scene together. That will get you an even larger fanbase.
You are getting sleepy….
Veeeery sleeeeepy…….
Truth be told, there comes a time in everyone’s life that they must either, beg, borrow or steal in order to survive.
Call it the hypnosis of life if you will, but we all have that innate survival instinct deep within in our beings that lays dormant and is just waiting to be unleashed, or unsheathed as it were.
We awaken each day with the instinct to hunt, and for what purpose?
Survival.
What is our prey?
Money.
For it is with this object of our desire that we may acquire all others.
With money we can buy sex, drugs and rock and roll.
Put another way, with money we can make people seem to like us.
With it we can pay for our health, and thereby purchase one more day on earth.
With money we can buy all sorts of distractions from our inevitable fate of eventual bodily death, and at least for the time being feel invisible.
Money and hypnosis.
Hypnosis and money.
The drive to survive.
The lust for our daily fix of cash.
Blinded by this desire, we will literally and /or figuratively screw each other into oblivion.
We will destroy friendships, and buy new ones.
We will pay for an opinion that is favorable.
We will pay to make problems disappear.
We will wallow in a pile of coins much like a certain Mr. McDuck swimming through these often ill gotten gains…
And for what?
Hell if I know?
I’m broke as a hooker in a wheelchair. Although there is likely a market for her services somewhere.
Alas, where is the market for an admittedly eccentric Celtic Jew. One of many descendants of a long since decapitated queen.
Let me state for the record that the Jew is only one quarter, and that this is surely why I’m so damned broke.
I make about 25 cents for every dollar I should. The Celt is the crazy ass motherfucker, and the Jew is the neurotic self loathing whining bitch.
Clearly on a tangent now, I must mention that as a teen I seriously flirted with anti Semitism, and even hung a rebel flag in my bedroom window that faced the street in front of our house in a town back east with at least 10 synagogues.
My half sister, a whole Jew herself, came over with her Jewish fiance and nearly had a heart attack upon seeing this image.
Many years later, I find out that I am actually descended from a Hasidic rabbi from a couple hundred years back on my dad’s side. Still later and actually quite recently after my dad died last year, I find out that we lost quite a few family members to the holocaust. Auschwitz to be specific.
So, how’s that for hypnotically grasping at straws to find ones identity?
But I digress…..
The whole point of this posting was and is essentially to say that MONEY and HYPNOSIS go hand in hand like flies and shit.
You can’t have one with out the other.
Actually you can, and truth be told, I’m actually doing my best to hypnotize someone of you out there to cough up a few extra bucks by telling some hopefully interesting stories, and casting the proverbial fishing line into the waters of the web, and hoping to get a bite.
Call it a theory, or rather asocial experiment, but to borrow a phrase or dare I suggest coin one from another depression, and with extra effort applied to tap into what I now lovingly refer to as the Jew Gene.
“Say brother, can you spare a dime?”
Or put another way:
“SPARE SOME CHANGE?”
$10,000 would be lovely right now!
God, I’m such a hypocrite!
GRACE did….
I stopped at a gas station this afternoon for the obvious reason – I needed gasoline in my car. When I opened my car door and stepped out, there was a person in a stocking cap waiting for me around the corner of the gas pump. Now the description of “a person in a stocking cap waiting for me around the corner of the gas pump” might conjure up a vision of me being robbed, but quite the contrary happened.
Her name was Andrea. She explained that she was there to pump my gas for me! She then shared how she and some others were pumping gas as a fundraiser. That is when I took a closer look at the stocking cap and it had a logo with fire on it and the words “You Can Run But You Cannot Hide”.
Andrea told me the organization is based in Annandale, Minnesota and focuses on helping teens. They go to high schools and talk to students about the pressures of being a teenager…drugs, pregnancy, and suicide for example.
I asked Andrea some questions while she was pumping my gas. I found out that they were only 9 people donating $20 each, away from their goal. I also found out they had been pumping gas in the damp and cold for 6 1/2 hours already! Wow! I thought I can help, but asked myself if I really should give $20. I decided I should! I gave Andrea a ShiFT the World card and asked for information on their organization so I can include it on our blog. Check it out!! They also reach out to people through street ministry. I think you will be impressed and possibly moved yourself to make a donation to a great cause. www.youcanruninternational.com
JESS did…
My business partner Marla and I own a partnership called MoXie Ladies. It is a historic home renewal company. Our goal is to purchase (over the long-term ) 26 houses and love them back to life. There are 26 letters in the alphabet, so we plan to name one home for each letter. “A” was for Annabelle. We purchased Annabelle, a 1914 Craftsman, in October 2008, and completed her renewal with style by February 2009. We currently have a family that lives in Annabelle through a lease-to-own program.
We recently had a wall built along the basement stairs, and today Marla & I headed over to Annabelle to prime the wall in preparation for painting. I decided that our renter/home owner should be the recipient of my ShiFT today. I stopped at the grocery store on the way to Annabelle and purchased a bouquet of daffodils, and a roll of cookie dough. After finishing the priming job I left the daffodils in a vase on the counter, and put the cookie dough in the fridge. I knew that the homeowner would love the flowers, and I imagined her three beautiful, active boys’ eyes twinkle when they discovered the cookie dough. As I left Annabelle I smiled to myself.
Five hours later I received a phone call. Our homeowner was ecstatic and so very appreciative. Not only did she say “you made my day”, she also mentioned that about an hour after she arrived home when she discovered the cookie dough she just couldn’t believe it. :0) I could tell in her voice that the surprise was perfect.
The two of us had a great conversation about how much she loves living in Annabelle and the historic neighborhood in which it sits. Our conversation made this ShiFT feel more than tremendous.
After reading a NYT, 2.25.10 by Piers Brendon, this writer discovers both truth and fiction following the rise and the fall of America.
Why? Are we fighting a war with Iraq – we as a country of warriors and our allies have gained and will not gain anything except another nail into our communal coffin. No! Oil wealth and no control over our enemies. Is this country of Hell worth a single soldier’s life?
Why? Are fighting a war in Afghanistan -we as a country of warriors and our allies have gained and will not gain anything except another nail into our communal coffin. Is a pipeline across this country of Hell worth a single soldier’s life?
America must learn when to “Hold them – Know when to fold them – Know when to walk away – Know when to run!”
And! America must enter a war knowing how to: Invade, Destroy, Pillage and Plunder…Our military might should never be used as the Peace Police…
As England was losing its power and wealth, Rudyard Kipling wrote this: “Far-called, our navies melt away,On dunes and headlands sinks the fire; Lo, All our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!”
May Respect and Understanding and Love and Peace be with…we doubt these hopes more everyday.
I don’t do drugs. I took ecstasy a few times between ‘97 and ‘01, and each time it was the greatest goddamn experience ever (You ever walk during the night to a basketball court that wasn’t there? Or lift the toilet lid and see an AOL chat room? How about seeing your friend’s eyes turn into toasted marshmallows? Hallucinations rule). But I knew I was playing with fire. I never got addicted and never even felt the urge like I just had to have more. The only urge I did feel was the desperate need to urinate the 90 gallons of water I drank during the previous night’s festivities. Other people aren’t as lucky and many are genetically hard-wired to grow up and spend their nights selling their various orifices for one more fix.
I couldn’t care less what people do with their personal lives. If you like to smoke weed, bang transgendered hooker furries from Craigslist and watch reruns of According To Jim, hey, that’s your business. Just legalize and tax the hell out of it. Alcohol taught us that prohibition doesn’t work (and leads to good movies ruined by Kevin Costner).
Raise your hand if you were shocked by the news of Corey Haim’s overdose. Ok, put your hand down, smartass – I’m looking for serious responses. Nope, didn’t think so. Nobody expected to ever hear from Corey Haim again until a day like this. Did you visit the URL of his website listed in that picture above? It redirects to the god damn website of the Partnership For a Drug Free America. That’s like surfing for gay porn and winding up at the official site of the Westboro Baptist Church (please don’t click that despicable link).
Like any divisive issue of our time, I maintain my position that people are the problem, not the issue itself. Drugs didn’t kill Corey Haim – Corey Haim killed Corey Haim. Humans are moronic, self-destructive, impulsive creatures and nature almost seems to take pleasure in filtering out the extra-stupid ones. I know I’m certainly enjoying the show.
So don’t be surprised if you wake up tomorrow morning and the Today Show reports that R. Kelly was spotted running out of a nightclub with a 12-year old girl dangling from his cock. Would you really be shocked to learn of another high-profile professional athlete’s admission of steroid use, gambling addiction or wife-beating?
Wake up, America. You should be able to see this shit coming a mile away. I never spent much time pondering it, but I always knew Corey Haim’s departure was just a matter of when, not if. I don’t mourn him, either. He appeared in a couple movies I enjoyed 20+ years ago, long before I had fuzzy balls and knew what actually makes a good film (If you saw The Lost Boys today, you’d lump it in with the rest of the craptastic vampire flicks and abhor its casting of Hollywood pretty-boys). I have no physical or emotional connection to Haim. He’s just another fallen celebrity none of us knew, so put some cold water on that star-fucking boner of yours.
Anyone could be next. Life will go on for the rest of us. So have some fun. Maybe create your own Celebrity Dead Pool.
Shia Lebouf, please pick up the courtesy phone…
Atala, alias Yaniv Banaim, a drug dealer operating in north Goa, was captured on spy camera speaking about his links to the Anti-Narcotics Cell (ANC) of the state police which had triggered the suspension of five policemen, including a senior police inspector, last week.
Deputy Inspector General (DIG) Ravinder Singh Yadav said he was detained and would be handed over to the crime branch.
“He is being detained presently and will be later handed over to the crime branch,” Yadav told IANS.
A police officer said Atala, who entered India illegally after being deported from India some time back, surrendered to the police in the coastal region of Pernem.
“His arrest will help us crackdown on the police officers who are in collusion with the narcotics mafia in Goa,” a police officer said.
.
In the spy camera video which was uploaded on www.youtube.com, Atala tells an unidentified person that several police officers in the Goa police were on his ‘take’.
Atala also said he would source drugs from the ANC officers who would steal it for him from a magistrate’s custody.
The Goa police has been rocked by charges of collusion of its officials with the narcotics mafia in Goa. While five policemen have been already suspended for their links to Atala, a Goa-based serving superintendent of police’s brother is being probed for his links to the illegal drug
sourcePatrick Corcoran (of Ganchoblog) has been garnering a lot of positive reaction for his article in Mexidata on Felipe Calderón’s failure as a strategist in the “war on drugs.” Patrick’s basic arguement is that Calderón doesn’t have a strategy.
It’s an excellent article and worth reading, even — as Patrick himself notes — that he should have written more about human rights abuses. I don’t agree with everything in the article, of course. Count me among those who ” focus on unprovable theses (Calderón’s strategy was motivated by a desire to legitimate himself after winning a closely contested election)” and — as Patrick commented on with regard to an Excelsior survey — one who shares the the belief of half of all Mexicans that the Calderón Administration is avoiding a confrontation with Chapo Guzmán.
While the survey was not broken down by state, I’d venture an umprovable thesis that here in Sinaloa, the belief that Chapo is untouchable (or purposely avoided) would probably poll closer to 80 or 90 percent of those asked.
I know I believe that, and I suspect that a lot of my neighbors either believe it, or hope it’s true. Chapo, like it or not, is something of a folk hero to many (even in my middle-class Mazatlán neighborhood, one hears corridos celebrating Chapo’s exploits) and — while his organization may be more brutal than, say, Starbucks or WalMart when it comes to driving competitors out of the market — people tend to side with locally owned and operated employers and investors over outsiders. Here in Mazatlán, not too many people regret the Arellano Felix brothers losing their sizable investments, although some realtors and developers would like to see some of those prime locations come onto the market rather than sit and deteriorate. Besides, this is a tourist resort… with a long history of smuggling and piracy. Where do you think a lot of investment funds are coming from?
And, not to put too fine a point on it, the tomato business isn’t all that hot, and narcotics, unlike gold and silver extraction, at least is run by local interests (and is less environmentally damaging).
It’s not that people are pro-narco even, but that they are realists. And it certainly appears to us as if the Administration is by-passing Chapo. The body count in the State as a whole is appalling, but everyone can see that it’s not Chapo’s guys who are taking a bullet, or Chapo’s organization that’s being targeted, but rather rivals and wannabe replacements like the Beltran Leyva clan… or, one suspects, those being murdered for other reasons, but chalked up to “drug war victims”. And, for many, the government agents are the bigger human rights abusers than the gangsters, whose human rights abuses (when it doesn’t involve dismembered corpses, anyway) are less likely the subject of media coverage.
I was hesitant about writing this post. This does not mean I, or my neighbors FAVOR the narcos, or are necessarily sympathetic to them. It does mean that I haven’t seen the government doing a good job of justifying it’s actions, or, in Chapo’s case, seeming lack of action (other than denying that there is a lack of action) and that it would be short-sighted to assume everyone supports the government’s actions, or that those who disbelieve the government’s claims are entirely illogical in their assumptions.
I once read that marriage was the cure for love, and I can understand how love could be described as a disease. My mother’s marriage has been eating away at her for years
My father (well, step-father but tis all the same to me) is a drug. It has taken me years to realise this obvious and perfectly fitting metaphor. He is like heroin to my mother. For years, she has been dependent on him to fill a hole in her life. And when shadows fall upon her, she turns away and pretends everything is okay and that he is good for her, he helps her, she needs him. But deep down she has known all this time the negative effect he has upon her life, the fact that he is crippling her and taking away everything else that is good in her life. The truth is, she has been hiding in her dependency upon him because she is not strong enough to face life without him, the pain of separating and losing something she has been so used to having there. Sure he has his side effects, those moments when it feels horrible and takes her close to the edge of something even darker than life with him. But to leave him behind, to walk away and be free from his oppression, requires a strength she hasn’t been sure she has in her. Until now.
My biological father has never been a part of my life. My mother was a single mum in her mid-twenties when she met him. He brought her red roses and made everyone believe that he was this charming older man who wanted to look after my mother and young brother. I suppose he made Mum feel safe and cared for. After the tragic death of my brother’s father, it is no surprise that she was blind to this man’s darker side. Once they were married and living together, his true colours began to show. An alcoholic with a history of violence took over the body of the man my mother had fallen in love with, a man who never really existed. I was ten years old when I asked my mother why she choose to have a child with that sort of man, which is when I learnt that I was not a choice, I was not even an accident. I was forced upon her. It was the only time he ever physically hurt her, but the psychological scars will always remain. After they spilt, my father’s first wife told Mum how he had been violent towards her. “You wouldn’t have believed me” she explained to Mum who had to agree.
Once again, Mum hasn’t believed the opinions of everyone else towards her husband. She met my step-father when I was four and they married in 1998. My grandparents didn’t like him. My brother didn’t like him. Her friends didn’t like him. Her siblings didn’t like him. Our neighbours didn’t like him. Even my friends didn’t like him. His sons from a previous marriage allowed him and our family into their lives on and off for some years, but eventually even they couldn’t stand to have him around anymore. My own relationship with the man I have called Dad for almost as long as I can remember has varied. As a child I thought having a dad was great, and with my elder brother taking all the flak, I was the golden girl. Looking back, it makes me feel so shit to know that I let my brother get blamed for everything and treated like crap but, of course, back then I didn’t truly understand. Sure, I knew on some level that it wasn’t fair, but I guess I was like my mother for a while, I didn’t want to believe. As I grew older and stronger, I began to see things in a different light, especially after my brother grew old enough to never be around. Eventually my brother moved out, but even before there was only me to blame for everything and take anything out on, I knew that there was something truly evil about my step-father. I suppose the knowledge stemmed from what began when I hit my teens. My step-father’s attention changed slightly, just in a subtle way that only I felt and even I struggled to explain. There was never any violence or sexual assault, but there was a violation on a deeper level. “The threat of sexual assault” as my counsellor recently put it. Oh yes, my counsellor. Hardly surprisingly, after holding this information inside me and never discussing the reasons for my skin crawling whenever he is near me, I have recently began to snap. After confessing to my friend that my step-father attempted to obtain photographs of me when I was not fully clothed between the ages of 13 and 17, I was finally pushed into seeking professional help. Just another one of those things that my mother never wanted to believe.
Christmas was the final straw, thankfully. Last March, my step-father quit his job saying that his boss had it out for him. We all tried to convince him to look for another job straight away, but he made excuses about needing to do some DIY around the house and not wanting to work in the city because it was too far to commute everyday. And so the months went by, very little had been done at home and nothing in regards to finding a new job. If he had stopped making excuses and done just some of the long list of things he said he would, Mum would have probably let it go on a lot longer. But the doors in their house still don’t shut properly where he has found excuses not to sand them. The dogs never get walked. There is rarely a meal prepared for when Mum gets home from work, and when there is it is something quick, easy and the same thing they had the night before last. The chicken coop is never cleaned out. The dog mess in the garden (where the poor pups are left all day, every day until Mum is home to let them in) is left for Mum to clean up. He does the same chores all the time, chores that take an hour or less to complete and don’t even have to be done every day. Finally, she has had enough.
During the Christmas break, my brother and I were both staying at our little parents’. It took very little time for me to realise that my mum was at reaching tipping point. When I went to greet her after work one day, she grabbed me in a tight hug, tears in her eyes. She admitted that it was getting to a point that she didn’t want to come home because she couldn’t face him. His laziness is the least of the problems in their life together, but it was something that opened her eyes to the wider issue. You see, he is not as obvious in his abuse as my real father. He has never raised his hand to her or cheated or left or humiliated her or any of those explicit kind of things. He is much cleverer than that. It is like what he did with me as a teenage. If he had physically abused me, I could have and would have gone to the police, my teachers, my family etc. Because that would have been easy to explain. It would have been easy to make someone understand and believe me. But that wasn’t the case. It was implicit, sly, deceitful. I had no evidence and, even now, I find it hard to explain. The fact that he is a pedophile is as obvious to me as the fact that he is lazy. But explaining why, even to myself, is difficult. I know he took photographs of me when I changing for bed. I know that he would manipulate me into wearing revealing clothing, or to wear that thin white blouse without a bra. I know that he left his camera on record hidden in the bathroom pointed at the toilet when I went to use it. When I accused him of it in front of my mother and he convinced her it was all in my mind, so she settled it by taking his camera away from him, I know that he brought another and hid it from us. What I don’t know is why I never showed her the secret camera I found, or why I never attempted to tell someone who wasn’t blinded by dependency upon him, or why I let her convince herself it wasn’t true and buried the knowledge deep within myself until it has had years to build up into this rage I now have towards him. Somethings are easy to explain, but others aren’t.
My step-father’s laziness is one of those easy things. And with the knowledge of this, my mother’s rose-tinted glasses have slowly been slipping down her nose. Now they have fallen off her face completely and lie smashed upon the dirt along with their marriage vows.
Someone may read this and believe that divorce is wrong. They may say that the vows should be kept. For better, for worse. But do you truly believe that someone should spend the rest of their life trying to make things better while they just get worse and worse until they end up in an early grave? Do you think my mother, a woman who has failed to loose weight and get fit because he has carefully made it more and more difficult for her to reach her goals, should face another decade of oppression until her broken heart finally gives out? If you think that the institution of marriage is so important that my mother should remain with that sly, twisted, manipulative, evil oppressor, that is your business. But it isn’t going to happen. My mother will never be free from the tragedy and the pain of her life, but she will be free from him. Divorce is the key that will unlock the door to the rest of her life. If it is the last thing I do, I will see my mother blossom anew into the strong, independent, happy woman that she should have spent the last thirty years being.
Let no man put asunder.
Well God, if you are up there, if you don’t want marriages to fail you shouldn’t allow the devil to wear the body of a man.
I’ve been reading through quite a few comments on Youtube about Christofer Drew of NeverShoutNever’s new song for the new Almost Alice CD titled “SeeWhatWeSeas.” I, myself, read through the lyrics, listened to the song multiple times, and I’ve come to a conclusion. I’m pretty sure it’s a safe one and many would agree If they just take the time to listen to the song, watch the movie, and think for about five minutes.
1) PCP, also known as Phencyclidine, is a drug which causes a distant, detached feeling. Numbness can also occur, as can loss of coordination and slurred speech. Along with that, a feeling of invulnerability or a sense of strength can also result from a moderate amount. A blank stare, rapid and involuntary eye movements, image distortion, severe mood disorders, and amnesia may also occur. PCP can also cause acute anxiety and a feeling of impending doom. It can sometimes cause paranoia, violent hostility, and it can also produce a psychoses indistinguishable from schizophrenia. Hallucination is also common.
More information can be found here: http://www.drugs.com/pcp.html
2) This song was written for the “Almost Alice” CD. As in, it won’t in the movie. If anyone hasn’t noticed, the songs that are on the CD are SUPPOSED to be trippy. Personally, I haven’t heard EVERY song, however, I do believe NeverShoutNever has the absolute best song. It seems to be PERFECT for the movie. Even if these songs are NOT featured in the movie, they’re suppose to be about the movie, correct? Or, inspired by the movie. It all makes sense.
3) The whole damn movie is basically an illusion. The movie is suppose to seem like you’re on an acid trip, or just a trip. The songs are suppose to be the same way. It all makes sense. Christofer Drew didn’t change a damn thing about his writing style. Or his musical style. NOTHING has changed! It was written FOR the movie. This movie definitely had Christofer Drew written all over it. Even if you do not like his past/present drug use, you know in the back of your mind, it was all too fitting. I think it’d be pretty crazy to write a song about this movie. Definitely a favorite of mine when I was little. I’m sure this version will be just as great!
Now that I’ve gotten all of that out of my system, I’m going to try and explain my whole opinion on the matter. It was probably suppose to sound like he was saying ‘pissy.’ In fact, I know he is. However, this movie is all about a trip. Pissy People sounds like PCPeople, as in, PCP. It’s a movie about drugs. There’s going to be drug associated lyrics in the songs. That’s just how it is. Personally, I think it’s a great song and I know it’ll be a great movie.
Now, PLEASE, leave Christofer Drew alone! A lot of other artists wrote songs for the CD, too.
Remember, Christofer Drew is a huge fan of The Beatles. This actually sort of sounds like one of their songs. I recognized it. Both my aunt and dad did, as well. Anyways, I’m done ranting. I just had to get this out of my system. x_X
On a side note, I’m seeing the movie tonight. (:
I recently had one of my hotels call me about a guest who was burning incense in his guestroom, while he was staying at the hotel. After the guest checked out, he was charged the Hotel’s “no smoking fee” of $250, as the Hotel was a non smoking hotel.
The guest immediately challenged the no smoking fee, and claimed he was burning the incense for “medical” reasons, it was “aroma therapy”. The Hotel asked the guest for a note from his Doctor prescribing the “aroma therapy” and guess what…the guest produced a Doctor’s note. It was a real prescription, from a real Doctor. So, that begs the question….does the American’s with Disabilities Act (ADA) apply? Do you as an Innkeeper have to allow aroma therapy or medical marijuana use in your non smoking hotel?
The answer is: We’re not sure yet…..
I took this question to the Hospitality Law Conference, which is held in Houston every February. The Hospitality Law Conference is attended by 400 hospitality Attorneys. These Attorneys come from all the major hotel brands, major hotel management companies and includes hospitality educators from all of the major hospitality Universities nationally. I searched out the best hospitality legal minds from our industry to discuss this issue with them.
I was surprised to learn there was no general consensus on how to handle medical marijuana /aroma therapy and the ADA, at hotels. There is no known “case law” on this issue yet, and I received a wide variety of legal opinions on how to handle the medical marijuana dilemma. I have summarized below, the “best practices” for handling medical marijuana / aroma therapy at your Hotel, based on discussions I had with the hospitality industry legal experts:
*****Note****, number 2 above applies to guests who are “mobile” and who can easily walk around, use the stairs and elevators, and have no physical restrictions. Most of the legal experts I spoke to agreed, that if a guest has limited mobility, due to a disability etc, then we should handle this guest differently. If the guest cannot easily exit and enter the hotel to smoke their medical marijuana, and they insist that the marijuana is part of their treatment for their disability, then you should allow them to smoke in their non-smoking room. Under these circumstances, the legal experts felt the disabled guest could fall under the ADA laws, due to their limited mobility etc. You should not charge them a “smoking fee”.
These suggestions are based on the opinions of the “best of the best” hospitality legal experts. As you know, the medical marijuana issue is being debated, legalized and defended all over the United States. Call your local Police or Sheriff departments and find out what your local and State laws are regarding medical marijuana. You should manage the guests at your hotels according to your specific laws.
Remember, you also have the right to ask a guest who is smoking marijuana to stop, unless they have a legal prescription, from a real Doctor, to be using the medical marijuana. If the guest does not have the legal paperwork to smoke marijuana, you can make them stop. Call the Police or Sheriff for assistance if necessary. You can use the internet to “google” a Doctor’s name or clinic, if you want to independently verify the validity of a guest’s medical marijuana use.
I’m sure somewhere in the United States in the near future, we will see some “case law” on the use of medical marijuana, the ADA, no smoking businesses and related issues. Until then, I hope these “best practices” help.
(Todd Seiders, CLSD, is director of risk management for Petra Risk Solutions, which provides a full-range of risk management and insurance services for hospitality owners and operators. Their website is: www.petrarisksolutions.com. Todd can be reached at 800-466-8951 or via e-mail at: todds@petrarisksolutions.com.)
Feb 2010
I realize it doesn’t sound “morally correct,” but the only way to stop drug corruption is to legalize drugs. All the policing in the world isn’t going to stop people in particular and governments in general from engaging in drug trafficking; the lure of such incredible amounts of money is too great.
At the other end of the spectrum, there is no way to prevent the masses from using drugs, either through education or by passing laws preventing their use. Haven’t we learned anything from prohibition? TGO
Refer to story below. Source: Associated Press
By JUAN CARLOS LLORCA and JULIE WATSON, Associated Press Writers Juan Carlos Llorca And Julie Watson, Associated Press Writers Wed Mar 3, 5:57 pm ET
GUATEMALA CITY – The arrests of Guatemala’s drug czar and national police chief underscore how deeply the world’s multibillion-dollar drug industry can corrupt small countries with weak institutions — a trend the Obama administration warned Wednesday threatens global security.
As U.S.-funded wars pressure cartels in Mexico and Colombia, drug gangs are increasingly infiltrating vulnerable countries, particularly in Latin America and Africa. Drug profits total about $394 billion a year, according to the U.N. Office on Drugs and Crime — dwarfing the gross domestic products of many nations and making them easy prey for cartels.
“Violent traffickers are relocating to take advantage of these permissive environments and importing their own brand of justice,” the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration’s intelligence chief Anthony Placido said Wednesday in testimony before a U.S. House subcommittee.
Areas with limited or poor governance become breeding grounds for other types of crime, Placido added, noting that 18 of 44 designated terrorist groups also have links to the international drug trade.
Few countries exemplify the corruption more than Guatemala, where the current government’s drug czar and the national police chief were arrested Tuesday as the alleged leaders of a gang of police who stole more than 1,500 pounds of cocaine from traffickers. Nelly Bonilla and National Police Chief Baltazar Gomez were the latest in a string of top law enforcement jailed for drug-related corruption in recent years.
“That the national police chief from 2009 is in jail and now the national police chief from 2010 is also in jail is certainly not good news. It gives an idea of an institution gravely infiltrated by criminal networks and shaken by corruption,” said Carlos Castresana, the top investigator of a United Nation’s investigative commission that helped build the case against Bonilla and Gomez.
The latest embarrassment for Guatemala’s U.S.-funded drug war came only days before the arrival of U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton, who will wind up her tour of Latin America in Guatemala on Friday.
Clinton will make clear that the Obama administration wants Latin American countries to do more to root out corruption.
“A number of them are not taking strong enough stands against the erosion of the rule of law because of the pressure from drug traffickers,” Clinton told reporters during her trip.
It’s a weakness powerful criminal networks know well. Mexican cartels are under pressure in their own country, with the military and police killing or arresting three drug lords in just the past few months. They have increasingly moved their operations south of the border — turning Guatemala into a major transit country for U.S.-bound cocaine.
In Peru, the world’s No. 2 cocaine-producing country after Colombia, Mexican traffickers have bribed customs officials at airports and seaports. In Argentina, court papers say Mexico’s Sinaloa cartel has exploited its lax financial oversight and plodding judiciary to set up shell companies that import banned chemicals used to make methamphetamine.
Former Suriname dictator Desi Bouterse, who was convicted in absentia in the Netherlands of drug smuggling, remains free and one of that country’s most powerful politicians. A former justice minister is now serving a year in prison after being convicted of laundering drug money while in office.
The problem extends all the way to Africa, where cocaine-laden planes from Latin America land at airports in small countries with total impunity and often the help of local officials. From there, the drugs have been sent to Europe in diplomatic pouches — the logistics arranged in presidential VIP salons.
Guatemala is one of the only countries in the world where the U.N. investigates government officials involved in organized crime. The U.N. created the independent International Commission Against Impunity in 2007 at the request of Guatemalan authorities overwhelmed by the scope of the problem.
Even with U.N. help, Guatemala still has been unable to control the situation.
In August 2009, the national police chief was arrested for allegedly stealing $300,000 from traffickers. In 2007, three Salvadoran congressmen visiting Guatemala were kidnapped and burned to death by detectives linked to a local drug gang. In 2005, then-drug czar Adan Castillo was caught on tape accepting a $25,000 bribe from a DEA informant in exchange for protecting U.S.-bound cocaine shipments. He was arrested in Virginia after being invited by the DEA to an anti-narcotics course.
Investigators discovered the latest alleged scam by Bonilla and Gomez when gangsters ambushed police agents trying to steal 770 pounds (350 kilograms) of cocaine from a warehouse outside Guatemala City last year. Five officers died in the gunbattle.
Castresana, the U.N. investigator, said authorities became suspicious of the slain officers after learning anti-narcotics agents blocked federal prosecutors from the crime scene. The national police also did not open an investigation into their deaths.
Bonilla and Gomez deny the accusations. Bonilla said her arrest was orchestrated by cartels, but she stopped short of saying they control the government.
“I have enemies and I was in their way. I was working for God and the law by going after drug traffickers, and this is a nice way to get rid of us,” she said shortly after being detained.
Former Interior Minister Raul Velasquez said gangs plotted his removal after he was fired Sunday by President Alvaro Colom for alleged irregularities in a government contract. He has not been charged.
“This cartel, whose name I’m not saying, celebrated my dismissal. They said that it had cost them a lot of money getting me removed from office and that it was going to be cheaper then having me killed,” Velasquez told the local newspaper Siglo XXI.
Ronaldo Robles, presidential spokesman, called the claims absurd.
___
Watson reported from Mexico City. Associated Press Writer Matthew Lee contributed to this report from Brazil.
My psychiatrist thinks I’m delusional. I don’t think this is a fair assumption, because I do have evidence to the contrary, evidence that confirms my beliefs are not unfounded, but perhaps I did not present this in a clear enough way, probably for fear that any opposition to his opinion would be seen as confirmation that I lack insight. I have another appointment with him on Friday though, so perhaps I’ll be able to make him understand a bit better then. I have even more evidence now; he’s got to listen.
I have agreed to try Aripiprazole again, as he says we need to be working in partnership, which seems to be synonymous with ‘you have to do everything I say’. I told him I doubt taking it would make any significant difference, but he was pretty persistent and insisted I give it a go, so I’ve complied. I’ve got a little bit of diazepam that I’m supposed to take too, for the agitation, and I’m restarting the Venlafaxine. I took this combination for the first time this morning, and I have to say it wasn’t particularly pleasant. I was fluctuating between being really restless and on edge, and then being really tired. I’ve had two two-hour naps today, so needless to say I’m going to have another sleepless night. My limbs also feel quite strange, weak I suppose, and a little shaky. Nice.
I’m feeling pretty awful right about now. My thoughts are intrusive and confusing. I’ve resorted to self-harming again, something I thought I’d never return to. My sleeping pattern is a mess. My appetite has disappeared, and everything I eat tastes strange. Energy and motivation levels are about zero; paranoia is off the scale.
I am scared.
so this teacher of the law comes up to Jesus and says, “So what is the most important command in the law?”
it’s a trick question and yet Jesus floors the gang of them by summing up the whole law as “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your mind and with all your strength. and love your neighbour as yourself.” [paraphrase, Matthew 22.37-38]
and since then, christians through the years have been well known for hating gay people, and people who have abortions, and the Catholics, and people who drink and do drugs, and those who live together, and black people, and people who run sex shops and so on…
is it just me, or are you thinking that maybe that’s not EXACTLY what Jesus was going for?
in fact, in John 13.34-35 He repeats the command/expectation/inspiration/mission when He says, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this shall all men know that you are My disciples, if you love one another.”
THE CHRISTIAN TATTOO
how is it possible that for the most part it often seems as if christians are known for what they are against, rather than what they are for? we placard, we burn down, we email petition, we march, we ban, we exclude, we look down upon and we gossip, among other things, against all the evil sin that surrounds us in the world (and retreat once more to the safety of the church bubble we have created)
and yet the mark of a Christian, our tattoo as it were, is meant to be love. be known by the love you have for each other. in fact, before we even get to the rest of the world, that’s where we stumble isn’t it? cos we can’t even love ourselves? because we all belong to different demonisations, sorry ‘denominations’, and let me tell you why my church is better than your church, or why you have it wrong, or how you should be doing baptism or communion or singing or dancing or not dancing or whatever…
[at this point i glance over my shoulder and see Jesus fashioning a whip together]
fortunately though, Jesus doesn’t give up on us. and fortunately Love, true sacrificial life-transforming redemptive love is contagious. in Corinthians it concludes the love-is-a-choice list with ‘Love never fails’ – it makes mistakes, it gets it wrong sometimes, it messes up horribly… but it never fails. and that is exciting!
so it can begin with you. and me. let’s commit to being known by the love we have one for another. for those we disagree with. for those who do things we don’t understand or even find downright offensive. for those who sin and don’t even seem to notice and care. for those who do church differently from us. let’s wear the tattoo of God’s love. let’s be salt and light. let’s be ambassadors, and a fresh fragrance and aroma of Christ.
let’s be followers of Jesus (and not just christians!)
after all, wasn’t it Him who, while suffering a torturous agonising death, called out, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
go.
do.
be.
[Love never fails!]
11:59 pm
Love Handles Save my Life – ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY – Have you ever heard about those gentile ladies and gentlemen people who through prayer and divine intervention end up avoiding lifes split-second misfortunes? Or, if you’re not the holy rolling type, do you know lucky sonsabitch who got lucked out for once in their miserable lifes and missed certain death or disfigurement? Like that weird guy upstairs who got loaded and fell 7 floors from the fire escape and landed safely on an awning, instead of getting splattered all over the concrete. Or that psycho mafia hit man from your anger management class who had a guy shoot him point blank while on a collection visit, but the brass knuckles in his Cerucci suit deflected 3 bullets and instead of dying got a small fine and probration for racketeering. Not too impressed? What about this fat broad who used love handles to save her life?
A Florida woman said her love handles saved her life when she was shot 4 times outside of an Atlantic City strip club and she didn’t even flinch. Apparently all was good in the hood until she heard several loud snaps and saw people running like mad out of Big Herm’s Place early this morning. Once the commotion died down she felt a sudden apain in her side and saw blood dripping on the ground. Witnesses at the scene say two men were shooting at each other inside of the club when two of the bullets ricocheted off the ground and struck the women in her side. (http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20100223/ap_on_fe_st/us_odd_love_handles_shooting)
During an interview outside of the emergency, the woman proudly told reporters, ‘I could have been killed by some fool who started a gun fight up in Herm’s over some goddamn shrimp.” After giving a few shout outs she added, “My love handles saved my life and I didn’t even have to shoot back. And to think I wanted to get on Jenny Craig and lose weight. Now want to be as big as hell, if it’s going to stop a stray bullet.” The suspect is still at large but the woman said she knows who is is and that she’ll be pulling out her hammer if she sees him on the block any time soon.
I was sitting on my deck, looking out over the lake, listening to Ol’ Dirty Bastard on headphones because my co-residents were listening to some shit I didn’t enjoy. I decided to snort some ecstasy cut with ketamine ’cause it was free. Snorting extasy sucks; it was so uncomfortable I’d regretted not shelving it in my urethra. I mention this fact for atmosphere; I don’t want to give the impression I couldn’t figure these things out without chemical assistance. I like to think my practical retardation and occasional loneliness are the corollaries of some kind of brilliance – such as finding answers to questions people mostly don’t care about. (This is, of course, an exception.)
Over time I’d learned some things about what constitutes the meaningful life; partially through observing those whose lives were flourishing, partially through watching those whose lives weren’t, and partially through listening to wise people. What I new at this point went something like this (mostly familiar to you, probably):
1. We need to belong to something grander than ourselves.
3. We need autonomy.
[1] and [2] can easily clash, and I believe this accounts for much of why our race and the individual encounter so much sickness. We either strive for belonging at the expense of the individual, or we strive for individuality at the expense of belonging. How to strut this tightrope instead of plunging through the rainbow towards the deepest stalagmitic tragedy of humanity?
The answer is loving interpersonal relationships, especially of the romantic variety. Sorry to let you down. Perhaps it’d be better put this way: THIS is why love is the answer, since you already knew it was.
Love allows us to belong to something greater whilst respecting our autonomy; we are the lord as much as the lackey. Or another way to put it might be that you exchange your weakness for power over the person who holds your heart hostage.
Misery bites when the balance slips. Talking primarily about romance here, the deepest pain eviscerates us when we want to belong where we no longer can, and the most hopeless emptiness is where we want to belong nowhere. (The latter fact is often obscured by ego.)
Today, I received a Mat Sheet (‘Material Sheet’, instructions on what a client needs on air, ie. a piece of copy that needs to be recorded, or a location of where to get an ad.) for the Federal Government.
The ad is a nationally produced one, and you can hear it here -> DHA0263-2-30
This is the latest commercial in a series for the National Drugs Campaign, a tax payer funded farce of a program.
This ad is typical of western government’s marketing towards their anti-drug position. Note that their actual policies seem to differ from the way they market their position on drugs.
The Australian Government’s official position on illicit drugs is one more toward harm minimisation, “The National Drug Strategy (NDS) aims to prevent and reduce the uptake of harmful drug use and minimise the harmful effects of licit and illicit drug use in Australian society.” Department of Health and Ageing, rather than one that seems to be of outright negative propaganda (listen to the ad above.).
Before I get into the ad though, there is something particularly confusing about policy and marketing in general, and it is important to keep in mind that things which are written, and their marketing are two quite different entities. I believe this is one of the effects of mass-marketing and capitalism over an extended period of time. People expect to be told what is good for them and what they need and want, after a generational shift has occured, then those people are the ones creating the marketing and products and hence the cycle continues, spiralling towards further apathy, essentially. The comprehension of shared reality has changed.
This attitude is what is taken advantage of in our Australian democracy these days. People aren’t interested in the intricacies of real democracy. In fact, how many people do you know that, “Don’t care about politics” and think it’s cool to not care, and vote for which ever name they find prettiest on the sheet, which, by the way, ends up being their only contribution to supposed democratic society.
People DO however, care about their money and the products that they purchase with that money. So, essentially the democratic process has turned into one of dollars, which means that the real movers and shakers are businesses that actually bother, and are capable of lobbying and addressing the government.
This business orientated approach to democracy, coupled with the generational shift in reality-comprehension opens the door for a system of government that is based more on marketing for votes, rather than intelligent debate and discussion on policy which will effect us all.
The ad posted above preys on exactly this attitude, by putting forward a typical myth-based and base level argument on marijuana usage, the idea that the catalyst for laziness and lack of motivation towards goals that were originally sought after, is the drug itself, rather than any other issue.
There are absolutely no facts in this piece of propaganda what so ever, this argument (amotivation propagated by marijuana usage) is one similar to, “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?”. In a day and age when we have so many facts about marijuana, both toward the positive and toward the negative, it is appalling to see a tax-payer funded campaign preying on emotional ideas, rather than rational concepts about the drug.
This year, 2010, is an election year for Australia. Drugs are still a big issue for our country in many ways. In the problems that they can and do cause, through addiction, through the black market which supplies it and through the criminal underworld which runs this. Many people have probably been directly effected by someone who has used or uses drugs, but the reasons why people use drugs are a totally different, large issue which I won’t get into here. The fact is, drugs, as a whole in our society are one of the key social issues for many people, and many people aren’t willing to look any further than some emotional pain they attribute to drug use, or any further than a propaganda campaign such as this one, or the many urban myths floating around about drugs.
My biggest qualm here is with the Australian Government using social money (taxes) to fund a propaganda campaign, one which has been shown to NOT be effective (There are many reports out there on the ineffectiveness on the “War on Drugs” in the west, specifically in the U.S., where this “war” was started by Nixon in 1969, but one of the most revealing juxtapositions is in looking at drug use statistics of a city like… Amsterdam, and then comparing it to a city like Melbourne, where our drug laws differ drastically. What is seen in the above linked report, is a DROP off in the usage of drugs like marijuana, rather than an increase, even though gettin’ high is legal in Amsterdam. While in our country, drug use is much more prevalent and has actually risen since the billion-dollar “War on Drugs”. Again, this is another, large issue that I won’t get into right now).
What to do about this?
Well, it is an election year, and apparently we’re still a democracy, so I suppose the most rational way forward is to start a lobby group, work out key points, work out key MP’s and lobby them with this view point. I would love to do this, but my motivation of late is lacking (see the blog about Street Art, up the top.).
I rang one of the numbers from the australia.gov.au/drugs website to complain about the misuse of social money, but instead got a drug counsellor. I told him of my qualm anyway, and he told me, on the downlow, that he completely agrees (an attitude I come across in EVERY health professional, counsellor and person working with drug users and abusers that I meet and chat with) and he reminded me that this year is an election year.
I would love to be involved with changing the attitudes towards drugs, changing policy and furthering research into such a vast and interesting field of…. maybe something to think of for the week after Maitreya….. hrrrmmmm….
My pizza has a heart! It is love pizza!
Other than alcohol fuelled violence and stagnate culture, this is Ballarat's other problem. Fairy grass from "Lake" Wendouree blowing into the rich resident's surrounding Lake Wendouree's front yards.
In Lak’ech Ala K’in
The archaeological dig that took place on Turbo Island in Stokes Croft last December has now been shown on BBC TV Inside Out West. Professor Mark Horton of Bristol declared this project to be “One of the most important archaeological projects going on currently in the UK.” Archaeologists, the homeless and the local Police Force worked together to sift through the dirt of Turbo Island, to reveal aspects of Stokes Croft’s Past.
To see the Inside Out West Documentary, click here to visit the BBC Website.
Disney Buys Marvel!
David Gardner called it. He’s up 1,334%! See what David’s recommending that you buy NEXT.
GlaxoSmithKline’s (NYSE: GSK) Avandia is back in the spotlight and Steven Nissen isn’t even to blame. Instead it’s a 342-page report by the Senate Finance Committee that’s painting the diabetes drug in a not-so-great light.
According to The New York Times, some Food and Drug Administration officials want the drug removed from the market. Even though a 2007 FDA advisory committee voted 22-1 that the drug should be on the market, the FDA plans to revisit the topic with another advisory committee, which is expected to meet this summer.
While it may be weighing on the stock today, whether the FDA pulls Avandia from the market seems like a minor concern. Sure the drug is still a worldwide blockbuster, but sales are down considerably from its highs.
Metric
2007
2008
2009
Sales of Avandia containing products (in millions)
$2.4
$1.5
$1.2
Fraction of overall revenue
5.4%
3.3%
2.7%
Source: Company press releases.
If the FDA pulls Avandia from the market it would be a minor boon to other oral diabetes drugs like Takeda’s Actos and Merck’s (NYSE: MRK) Januvia and to a lesser extent injectable drugs like Amylin Pharmaceuticals‘ (Nasdaq: AMLN) and Eli Lilly’s (NYSE: LLY) Byetta and Novo Nordisk’s (NYSE: NVO) Victoza. But even if Avandia was pulled off the market worldwide, it wouldn’t be a crippling blow for Glaxo because Avandia has become such a minor portion of the drugmaker’s revenue.
The report’s bigger blow for Glaxo is the claim that the company knew for years that there were heart problems with Avandia and tried to figure out how to cover it up. That dripping sound you heard over the weekend was the drool of trial lawyers hitting the floor. Of course plaintiffs would have to prove that in court, and Glaxo claims that there aren’t even any problems with Avandia to cover up in the first place.
Still, investors should now weigh the risk of lawsuits into their valuation. After all, the $4.85 billion Merck used to settle its Vioxx cases is money that it doesn’t have to stock its pipeline with externally developed compounds. Glaxo might be seeing a drain on its own coffers in the not too distant future.
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