Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken.
Il faut souffrir pour être belle.

Self-improvement is masturbation. Now self-destruction...
My interests include bizarre photographs of animals, bizarre photographs of people, true mental illness, anthropomorphism, and conquering myself until I see another hurdle approaching. Also, I like big butts and I cannot lie...
"Oh shit, I got so wrapped up teaching my kids to be gay that I completely forgot to get my abortion! I sure hope they can murder this baby on Friday or it’s going to completely screw up my weekend."
Kanye West is a little bit retarded, right? I mean, not like Biz Markie retarded, bit a little bit. Right?
I love music and I'm fairly un-picky about it. Perusing my music library might lead you to believe that I'm either an aging punk or a gay male or an aging gay male punk...until you got to the S's and tried to figure out what the hell "Sifl And Olly" means. If only I don't bend and break, I'll meet you on the other side...I'll meet you in the light. You should probably know about Seona Dancing. Liam Lynch is essential (even if he's mad at me). Say anything mean about Sid Vicious to me and I'll whap you in the fucking chops. I was saying let me out of here before I was even born. Big Fun are a bunch of tuneless Eurofags and Bela Lugosi is dead. MUTHAFUCKINBOWIE!
Have you heard of Iron Suitcase? You will soon enough...
Now go get Don Letts' cooler-than documentary "Punk: Attitude" and educate yerself, ya lazy sod.
Ooooooooo, I LOVE movies!
Almodovar! Solondz! Guest! Mamet! Lynch! Lynch! Waters! Soderbergh! Besson! Cox! Tarantino! Temple! Ferro! (Geniuses, all.)
I can watch "Living Dolls: The Making of a Child Beauty Queen" for hours on end. Four-year-old Emily executing a series of "Dior" spins in a tiny, yellow sequined jacket is just too great and I love how they bleach seven-year-old Leslie Butler's hair and give her a big ol' bucky set of fake blowjob teefs to wear for pageants. I've always wanted to rip sweet little Swan right out of the television set and steal her away her from her monster mother...but apparently fate took care of that matter for me. I read that both of Swan's parents have died. Poor kid.
I tend to like books about crime and psychosis. True or fictitious, makes no difference. I just love freaking myself out with the scary and gross.
"Our fathers were our models for God. If our fathers bailed, what does that tell you about God?"
This was Keith Olberman's "Special Comment" on the passage of Proposition Eight in California, which rescinded the right of same-sex couples to marry...
Some parameters, as preface. This isn't about yelling, and this isn't about politics, and this isn't really just about Prop-8. And I don't have a personal investment in this: I'm not gay, I had to strain to think of one member of even my very extended family who is, I have no personal stories of close friends or colleagues fighting the prejudice that still pervades their lives.
And yet to me this vote is horrible. Horrible. Because this isn't about yelling, and this isn't about politics. This is about the... human heart, and if that sounds corny, so be it.
If you voted for this Proposition or support those who did or the sentiment they expressed, I have some questions, because, truly, I do not... understand. Why does this matter to you? What is it to you? In a time of impermanence and fly-by-night relationships, these people over here want the same chance at permanence and happiness that is your option. They don't want to deny you yours. They don't want to take anything away from you. They want what you want -- a chance to be a little less alone in the world.
Only now you are saying to them -- no. You can't have it on these terms. Maybe something similar. If they behave. If they don't cause too much trouble. You'll even give them all the same legal rights -- even as you're taking away the legal right, which they already had. A world around them, still anchored in love and marriage, and you are saying, no, you can't marry. What if somebody passed a law that said you couldn't marry?
I keep hearing this term "re-defining" marriage.
If this country hadn't re-defined marriage, black people still couldn't marry white people. Sixteen states had laws on the books which made that illegal... in 1967. 1967.
The parents of the President-Elect of the United States couldn't have married in nearly one third of the states of the country their son grew up to lead. But it's worse than that. If this country had not "re-defined" marriage, some black people still couldn't marry...black people. It is one of the most overlooked and cruelest parts of our sad story of slavery. Marriages were not legally recognized, if the people were slaves. Since slaves were property, they could not legally be husband and wife, or mother and child. Their marriage vows were different: not "Until Death, Do You Part," but "Until Death or Distance, Do You Part." Marriages among slaves were not legally recognized.
You know, just like marriages today in California are not legally recognized, if the people are... gay.
And uncountable in our history are the number of men and women, forced by society into marrying the opposite sex, in sham marriages, or marriages of convenience, or just marriages of not knowing -- centuries of men and women who have lived their lives in shame and unhappiness, and who have, through a lie to themselves or others, broken countless other lives, of spouses and children... All because we said a man couldn't marry another man, or a woman couldn't marry another woman. The sanctity of marriage. How many marriages like that have there been and how on earth do they increase the "sanctity" of marriage rather than render the term, meaningless?
What is this, to you? Nobody is asking you to embrace their expression of love. But don't you, as human beings, have to embrace... that love? The world is barren enough.
It is stacked against love, and against hope, and against those very few and precious emotions that enable us to go forward. Your marriage only stands a 50-50 chance of lasting, no matter how much you feel and how hard you work.
And here are people overjoyed at the prospect of just that chance, and that work, just for the hope of having that feeling. With so much hate in the world, with so much meaningless division, and people pitted against people for no good reason, this is what your religion tells you to do? With your experience of life and this world and all its sadnesses, this is what your conscience tells you to do?
With your knowledge that life, with endless vigor, seems to tilt the playing field on which we all live, in favor of unhappiness and hate... this is what your heart tells you to do? You want to sanctify marriage? You want to honor your God and the universal love you believe he represents? Then Spread happiness -- this tiny, symbolic, semantical grain of happiness -- share it with all those who seek it. Quote me anything from your religious leader or book of choice telling you to stand against this. And then tell me how you can believe both that statement and another statement, another one which reads only "do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
You are asked now, by your country, and perhaps by your creator, to stand on one side or another. You are asked now to stand, not on a question of politics, not on a question of religion, not on a question of gay or straight. You are asked now to stand, on a question of...love. All you need do is stand, and let the tiny ember of love meet its own fate. You don't have to help it, you don't have it applaud it, you don't have to fight for it. Just don't put it out. Just don't extinguish it. Because while it may at first look like that love is between two people you don't know and you don't understand and maybe you don't even want to know...It is, in fact, the ember of your love, for your fellow **person...
Just because this is the only world we have. And the other guy counts, too.
This is the second time in ten days I find myself concluding by turning to, of all things, the closing plea for mercy by Clarence Darrow in a murder trial. But what he said, fits what is really at the heart of this.
"I was reading last night of the aspiration of the old Persian poet, Omar-Khayyam," he told the judge. "It appealed to me as the highest that I can vision. I wish it was in my heart, and I wish it was in the hearts of all:
"So I be written in the Book of Love;
"I do not care about that Book above.
"Erase my name, or write it as you will,
"So it be written in the Book of Love."
Quod me nutrit, me destruit.
Rome is burning," he said as he poured himself another drink."Yet here I am knee deep in a river of pussy."
"Here it comes," she thought, "another self-indulgent, whiskey-soaked diatribe about how fucking great everything was in the past, and how all us poor souls born too late to see The Stones at wherever...or snort the good coke like they had at studio 54...well, we'd all just missed out on practically everything worth living for." And the worst part was, she agreed with him.
"Here we are," she thought, "at the edge of the world; the very edge of western civilization and all of us are so desperate to feel something, anything that we keep falling into each other and fucking our way towards the end of days.
I might die at any moment. The tragedy is that I don't. I use my grand IQ to decide what color gloss to wear in the morning and how to hit three keggers before curfew. I am unhealthily obsessed with the word "chicken." I probably know too much about pharmaceuticals. Beauty always gives me a hard-on and queers are just better. I am Queen Carlotta!
Anyone hungry enough to eat cancer.
Anyone who loves the feeling of cold nylon on their big butt.
Anyone who has ever eaten a meatball sandwich right out in class.
Anyone who looks like they just won a prize.
Anyone who can hold an intelligent conversation without farting or belching for laughs.
Anyone who takes that blade, drags it across their skin and prays for the courage to push down.
Anyone who realizes how totally contrived it sounds to call yourself "a fountain of blood in the shape of a girl."
Anyone who understands their own pathetic insignificance in the grand scheme of things.
Anyone who can define the word "irony."
hank henderson
Olivia De Berardinis
Liam Lynch
Christa Faust
Michael Johnson
Mike Moz
Russell Brand
Comments
Oct 21 2009 8:15 AM
Sep 17 2009 8:00 AM
Sep 3 2009 3:06 AM
Jul 31 2009 9:32 PM
Jun 21 2009 1:20 AM
Jun 6 2009 1:26 AM
May 23 2009 1:01 AM
May 23 2009 1:01 AM
Apr 11 2009 8:06 AM
Apr 6 2009 2:34 AM
>MR.M
Apr 6 2009 2:34 AM
Feb 20 2009 8:00 AM
If you love your dog, click here
Feb 7 2009 2:59 AM
Feb 1 2009 1:10 AM
Jan 29 2009 2:36 AM
Jan 25 2009 3:36 AM
Jan 13 2009 6:58 PM
$10 general admission, $7 in a RHPS costume, CASH ONLY!!!
This is guaranteed to be the best bang for your entertainment buck.
Check out the newly refreshed dark refrain website at….
www. adarkrefrain. com
or simply click on the banner below.
We will be having another show in Santa Ana on Jan 30th as well!
Jan 1 2009 12:29 AM
;)
Dec 26 2008 3:16 AM
If you're having trouble seeing the card, please visit:
http://www. scrapblog. com/viewer/viewer. aspx?sbid=966411
Dec 16 2008 9:37 PM
Nov 27 2008 9:35 AM
,Jay$$on
Nov 8 2008 7:52 PM
I'm sad about California though :(
Oct 25 2008 10:55 PM
Oct 2 2008 10:21 PM
more animals
Sep 9 2008 4:14 PM
hmmm... makes me think about moving...
*sigh*
How are you?
Sep 9 2008 8:27 AM
Aug 26 2008 11:57 PM
Aug 25 2008 4:21 PM
Jul 26 2008 5:31 AM
Jul 24 2008 7:02 PM
Jul 4 2008 9:14 PM
Jul 3 2008 5:55 PM
May 21 2008 6:16 PM
Have a great day
May 21 2008 10:23 PM
:)
May 22 2008 2:56 PM
Happy Belated!
May 22 2008 4:48 PM
i will go drink a pabst in your honor!!!
*big hugs*
t
May 22 2008 4:49 PM
May 16 2008 4:05 AM
I can't believe I'm so old!!!
Oh well, f%$#k it ;-)
May 7 2008 11:31 PM
May 1 2008 5:51 AM