Sunday, November 2, 2014
Hello My Freaky Darlings...
It has been several months since my last entry, this one really does not count, and for all this you have my most sincere and humble apologies. (Unless you did not actually care. A shrug and an 'eh' for you.) I mostly dropped this note for that one sweetheart that comes into my place of employment and my editor. Yes, I suck. No, I am not ready for the next post. Shame on me. No love lost on the rest of you, including the darling Camille <3, who remains my sole commenter at this point. The two aforementioned are the only I know in person. (Thanks guys.) I am still working on the Steampunk entry, but it is competing with a new brainstorm for my attention (cue boxing bell). Stay tuned.
That is all for now really, but since I owe you guys one, here is the song of choice. It sounds so old school, my DeLorean took me straight to the 90's and parked in some kids garage. Weezer - Back To The Shack https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MqZBAq2AdNc
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Dress Code Aesthetics...
Hello, my freaky darlings...
Springtime is here in the South, and that means that Summer is just another coldsnap and a rainstorm away. The average temperature seems to fluctuate between "OMG, really?" and "Are you friggin’ serious?", or something like that. Do you know what that means? Some people start running around in what would appear to be underwear in public. Upon second glance, after a heart attack perhaps, you will realize that they are actually supposed to be clothes. They typically appear to be just one inch higher or lower on their shirt from being hauled off for public indecency.
Granted, these bold people have enviable confidence (maybe they recently lost a lot of weight and are celebrating their new smokin' bod), and are usually decent beings, but going about half-naked is a bit much. If there is no waterfront in your vicinity (or as your immediate destination), please cover up. Is that so much to ask? Apparently, it is. The wearing of clothing smaller than your undergarments needs to end.
You are not a brick house. Stop letting it all hang out.
If you are at the pool or a beach, that is fine. Do as you please, by all means; just please refrain from mooning or flashing anyone. (That would be rather uncouth of you.) However, if you are going to the mall, a bookstore, restaurant, or (for the love of all that is sacred) WAL-MART, please wear your real clothes and not your spandex something-or-others. I know that whoever raised you did NOT intend for you to dress like that. No one wants to see your drawers (or lack thereof). They are not your sweethearts. I do not care how many wolf- whistles your spanks get you – it is not appropriate.
No, you naysayers, this is not about your safety. The filthy perverts of this world should know better than to assume that just because a nice tail is showing means they have the right to grab it. They are morons. If you are not ‘asking for it’, you are NOT asking for it. Remember this.
This is simply a matter of decency. Call me old-fashioned, but no one looks forward to mapping out your cellulite or what-not any more than you do theirs. Unless you are a bully that likes to point out the flaws of other people to feel better about your own: then, you need help.
Would you dress that way in front of your parents? Would you let your kids go out in public, wearing so little? Do you feel like counting someone's freckles (or other spots) that may be located somewhere other than their face? Nope, that is just TMI for most people.
If this were, say, the Zom-pocalypse, would you have so much exposed? If your local weather is bi-friggin’-polar, do you want to be caught in Mother Nature's mood swing? It sucks beyond measure to have any inch of your skin in direct contact with ANY public seat, let alone the special bits. (Ew, ew, ew.) It may be way too hot for jeans or even most of your t-shirts, but tube-tops and booty shorts to the grocer is just plain... underkill.
Guys, this is for you too, and not just our ladies here. Some of you 'gentlemen' need to learn and apply the difference between play clothes and publicly-accepted clothes. Yes, there is, in fact, a difference. Stop wearing shirts with the armpits cut to your hip and the full-diaper pants. If you want to be half-naked, stay at home.
The best advice I suppose that I could give to those who inspired this rant is to watch some horror films. Disregarding the exact order, who is going to die? The people who forgot how to put on their clothes. 'Hello, House of Wax? Thanks for collecting Paris for us. (I was expecting it sooner though.)' Go-to solution is to assume the Scary Movie Scenario of: ‘Giant Mosquito Swarm’, ‘Psycho on-the-loose’, or ‘Zombie Outbreak’ (classic), and then dress comfortably and accordingly. Try keeping within range of that and see if it helps.
Author's note: Yea, another rant, but the next one will be much more fun. Also, I am, indeed, old-fashioned: one of those creaky-boned, covered neck-to-ankle persons. Don't judge me so harshly please, this was for the public-panty people and those who can't stand this issue any more than I. <3 I had a really hard time deciding this week's song, so I'm giving you two for funsies. And to make up for my lateness and seriousness. First, is Toxic by Blowsight http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rcVF6cvQWlc and Oh, Bo by Bo Burnham (because it makes me laugh) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C42YazlZ0bI
Springtime is here in the South, and that means that Summer is just another coldsnap and a rainstorm away. The average temperature seems to fluctuate between "OMG, really?" and "Are you friggin’ serious?", or something like that. Do you know what that means? Some people start running around in what would appear to be underwear in public. Upon second glance, after a heart attack perhaps, you will realize that they are actually supposed to be clothes. They typically appear to be just one inch higher or lower on their shirt from being hauled off for public indecency.
Granted, these bold people have enviable confidence (maybe they recently lost a lot of weight and are celebrating their new smokin' bod), and are usually decent beings, but going about half-naked is a bit much. If there is no waterfront in your vicinity (or as your immediate destination), please cover up. Is that so much to ask? Apparently, it is. The wearing of clothing smaller than your undergarments needs to end.
You are not a brick house. Stop letting it all hang out.
If you are at the pool or a beach, that is fine. Do as you please, by all means; just please refrain from mooning or flashing anyone. (That would be rather uncouth of you.) However, if you are going to the mall, a bookstore, restaurant, or (for the love of all that is sacred) WAL-MART, please wear your real clothes and not your spandex something-or-others. I know that whoever raised you did NOT intend for you to dress like that. No one wants to see your drawers (or lack thereof). They are not your sweethearts. I do not care how many wolf- whistles your spanks get you – it is not appropriate.
No, you naysayers, this is not about your safety. The filthy perverts of this world should know better than to assume that just because a nice tail is showing means they have the right to grab it. They are morons. If you are not ‘asking for it’, you are NOT asking for it. Remember this.
This is simply a matter of decency. Call me old-fashioned, but no one looks forward to mapping out your cellulite or what-not any more than you do theirs. Unless you are a bully that likes to point out the flaws of other people to feel better about your own: then, you need help.
Would you dress that way in front of your parents? Would you let your kids go out in public, wearing so little? Do you feel like counting someone's freckles (or other spots) that may be located somewhere other than their face? Nope, that is just TMI for most people.
If this were, say, the Zom-pocalypse, would you have so much exposed? If your local weather is bi-friggin’-polar, do you want to be caught in Mother Nature's mood swing? It sucks beyond measure to have any inch of your skin in direct contact with ANY public seat, let alone the special bits. (Ew, ew, ew.) It may be way too hot for jeans or even most of your t-shirts, but tube-tops and booty shorts to the grocer is just plain... underkill.
Guys, this is for you too, and not just our ladies here. Some of you 'gentlemen' need to learn and apply the difference between play clothes and publicly-accepted clothes. Yes, there is, in fact, a difference. Stop wearing shirts with the armpits cut to your hip and the full-diaper pants. If you want to be half-naked, stay at home.
The best advice I suppose that I could give to those who inspired this rant is to watch some horror films. Disregarding the exact order, who is going to die? The people who forgot how to put on their clothes. 'Hello, House of Wax? Thanks for collecting Paris for us. (I was expecting it sooner though.)' Go-to solution is to assume the Scary Movie Scenario of: ‘Giant Mosquito Swarm’, ‘Psycho on-the-loose’, or ‘Zombie Outbreak’ (classic), and then dress comfortably and accordingly. Try keeping within range of that and see if it helps.
Author's note: Yea, another rant, but the next one will be much more fun. Also, I am, indeed, old-fashioned: one of those creaky-boned, covered neck-to-ankle persons. Don't judge me so harshly please, this was for the public-panty people and those who can't stand this issue any more than I. <3 I had a really hard time deciding this week's song, so I'm giving you two for funsies. And to make up for my lateness and seriousness. First, is Toxic by Blowsight http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rcVF6cvQWlc and Oh, Bo by Bo Burnham (because it makes me laugh) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C42YazlZ0bI
Sunday, May 25, 2014
R-E-S-P-E-C-T, how little we r-e-c-e-i-v-e...
Hello my freaky darlings...
...and my not-so-freaky darlings, because this applies to many of you, too. How many of you work in customer service, or with the public as a rule? Yes, you know exactly where this is going. RESPECT! What happened to that simple concept? Why do people so arrogantly demand it from you, yet offer absolutely none in return? Who raised these people -- these haughty, assuming patrons that never once look you in the eye, cut you off while you are speaking to them, or otherwise refuse to listen to you at all? I literally had a 'guest' huff and half-exclaim, "Just let me GO," as though I wanted to harass him. I was simply doing my job to the letter. (Dead serious.) People like this slowly and surely turn sweet, endearing rookies into bitter, well-educated sailors.
It has long since been a personal conviction of mine that every single person entering the work force should start in fast food and remain there for a bare-minimum of one year – right there at the counter, where the guests want it then and there, and he or she better be smiling, because if the server is not smiling, then he or she is being horrifically rude and should be fired immediately. That is what "Customer Service" is all about, right? People will never know what the minimum-wage slave is going through until they personally experience it for themselves. They will continue on their way with their tactless behavior, even teaching it to their children so that they believe that this treatment of others is not only okay, but even expected. That is just, plain wrong.
I recently had a guest who had his two boys and young daughter with him. This sweet little girl could be no older than six, with some allowance money in her tiny fist, and her father was teaching her how to buy things and how to conduct herself while doing so. She put the trinket on the counter, I told them the total, and she counted her money with her father's assistance. She laid it out for me, but he stopped her, telling her that, "you should always hand your money to the cashier directly into their hand, because people who just lay it on the counter are lazy and rude. You should never be rude." I was mouthing "thank you" to this man, and told him how much faith in humanity he had restored in me. He simply told me that he had been in customer service in his youth, and knew what it felt like to have rude guests like that. He wanted to be sure that his kids knew how to treat others, because it sucks when it’s you on the other side of the counter.
So, those of you who think that your waitress or associate or who have you is an unfeeling robot/verbal punching-bag, please get a part-time job. After your year of servitude is over, go to every establishment you have ever been to and apologize to the employees. (Even the ones that you did not mouth off to, because they are all in the same boat.) When you know their peculiar suffering, you will feel sorry.
If you are the poor, underpaid civilian that I speak of, keep on trooping. It would be shameful if you give up just because someone takes their temper out on you (a few hundred times). That person is petty; do not let their bad day become your bad six months. It is NOT worth it. Do what I do: smile just a tad too big, tell them to have a great day, and invite them back. You will never know if that would be the one thing they needed to hear or not, so endeavor to make everyone’s day a little better. This will not always work, and often results in wasted efforts; however, you should still take pride in it, because if you refuse to be put down and carry on your merry way, most guests will see it, and they will (at least) have a grudging respect for you.
It is rather pathetic that we have people like that on this planet.
So, make sure, no matter what you do for a living, that you treat everyone with civil respect. You are as unaware of their grief as they are of yours. Your simple kindness may be the very thing they need to witness as encouragement to be kind to others themselves.
Author's note: Sorry if this is a bit huffy. I will try to be writing a note for you all at the end for my posts. This will mostly be whatever I have on repeat all week or a song that relates to the post in some way. For this one, it's Satisfaction by The Rolling Stones. For obvious reasons. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3a7cHPy04s8
Thank you and have a great day!!!
...and my not-so-freaky darlings, because this applies to many of you, too. How many of you work in customer service, or with the public as a rule? Yes, you know exactly where this is going. RESPECT! What happened to that simple concept? Why do people so arrogantly demand it from you, yet offer absolutely none in return? Who raised these people -- these haughty, assuming patrons that never once look you in the eye, cut you off while you are speaking to them, or otherwise refuse to listen to you at all? I literally had a 'guest' huff and half-exclaim, "Just let me GO," as though I wanted to harass him. I was simply doing my job to the letter. (Dead serious.) People like this slowly and surely turn sweet, endearing rookies into bitter, well-educated sailors.
It has long since been a personal conviction of mine that every single person entering the work force should start in fast food and remain there for a bare-minimum of one year – right there at the counter, where the guests want it then and there, and he or she better be smiling, because if the server is not smiling, then he or she is being horrifically rude and should be fired immediately. That is what "Customer Service" is all about, right? People will never know what the minimum-wage slave is going through until they personally experience it for themselves. They will continue on their way with their tactless behavior, even teaching it to their children so that they believe that this treatment of others is not only okay, but even expected. That is just, plain wrong.
I recently had a guest who had his two boys and young daughter with him. This sweet little girl could be no older than six, with some allowance money in her tiny fist, and her father was teaching her how to buy things and how to conduct herself while doing so. She put the trinket on the counter, I told them the total, and she counted her money with her father's assistance. She laid it out for me, but he stopped her, telling her that, "you should always hand your money to the cashier directly into their hand, because people who just lay it on the counter are lazy and rude. You should never be rude." I was mouthing "thank you" to this man, and told him how much faith in humanity he had restored in me. He simply told me that he had been in customer service in his youth, and knew what it felt like to have rude guests like that. He wanted to be sure that his kids knew how to treat others, because it sucks when it’s you on the other side of the counter.
So, those of you who think that your waitress or associate or who have you is an unfeeling robot/verbal punching-bag, please get a part-time job. After your year of servitude is over, go to every establishment you have ever been to and apologize to the employees. (Even the ones that you did not mouth off to, because they are all in the same boat.) When you know their peculiar suffering, you will feel sorry.
If you are the poor, underpaid civilian that I speak of, keep on trooping. It would be shameful if you give up just because someone takes their temper out on you (a few hundred times). That person is petty; do not let their bad day become your bad six months. It is NOT worth it. Do what I do: smile just a tad too big, tell them to have a great day, and invite them back. You will never know if that would be the one thing they needed to hear or not, so endeavor to make everyone’s day a little better. This will not always work, and often results in wasted efforts; however, you should still take pride in it, because if you refuse to be put down and carry on your merry way, most guests will see it, and they will (at least) have a grudging respect for you.
It is rather pathetic that we have people like that on this planet.
So, make sure, no matter what you do for a living, that you treat everyone with civil respect. You are as unaware of their grief as they are of yours. Your simple kindness may be the very thing they need to witness as encouragement to be kind to others themselves.
Author's note: Sorry if this is a bit huffy. I will try to be writing a note for you all at the end for my posts. This will mostly be whatever I have on repeat all week or a song that relates to the post in some way. For this one, it's Satisfaction by The Rolling Stones. For obvious reasons. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3a7cHPy04s8
Thank you and have a great day!!!
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Hello, my freaky darlings!
First, I would like to thank you for reading this entry, and I hope you will return to view all subsequent posts. My initial goal is to get my ‘Gothic Fashion’ magazine started. I will rely on you irrevocably for feedback, input, and suggestions.
I found myself sifting through my reading material, burned out on my fan-fiction (real books demand too much time that I never seem to have), and I realized I am piteously unaware of the world around me. Most things I find lately lose my interest, so my glitchy brain spat out, "Well, why don’t you make something you like?" Brilliant! But how? I have no resources, no connections, no assets, and not much at all to offer, really. I only have my meager professionalism (fraught with bouts of childish distraction), my eagerness to learn both useful and frivolous things, and a desperate pursuit of a livelihood that my forthright honesty remain intact in business and otherwise (as I despise thieves and liars). Now while this tumult ripped through my mind in those weeks, I managed tearing through a book series I'd been dying to finish. (The books were quite short for me, and the witty protagonist kept me well entertained.) In the later books, the main character is a junior in high school, so the topic of "What do you wanna be when you grow up?" is, of course, rehashed. So, the best friend of said main character suggests "Hey, you could start your own magazine!"
Well, that sounded perfect for me, but how would I start? (See above: no resources.) So I kicked the idea around in my head, liking it all the more; though, it seemed to become more daunting. Still, I saw promise in it. I could promote and advertise for my favorite websites, local businesses and craftsmen, discuss (or rant on) issues that mean something to me, and talk about my own style to what I would presume to be a like-minded audience. I could rage against the machine, as it were, and otherwise attempt to become my own person. I cannot really say that I want to make a difference, per se, because that can mean many things depending on who interprets what I (try to) say.
I want to make things better. The thought of a uniform world revolts me, while the world I see now is hateful and corrupt. If things were all the same, nothing would ever change (obviously), but this is where corruption is the difference. It is an ichor makes things worse, it makes all things different seem evil and abhorrent. Therefore, we have bullying, prejudice, fear, and so many other negative feelings for strangers -- or even a neighbor we do not speak to -- simply because we are taught that if someone is different, they are bad for you to even be around. Had I the power to do so, I would make this place a more peaceable montage of things, where common sense is used instead of prejudice. If none of us are different from anyone else, do we still have a place? There are those of us who simply cannot identify with what are perceived as cultural norms in the mainstream, let alone comply.
And so here we are, the different and rebellious, the dark and defiant. We sing our music off-key in our privacy (but you would never know, because it is too loud anyway). We wear our funky or austere clothes and neon bright or pitch-dark nail polish, and feel artful, not wrong. Our artwork may be themed in a way that would make your skin crawl, or awe you with its beauty. Or both.
I humbly introduce to you what I intend to be as enduring as the vile and lovely topics I will share with you. I hope that you can sympathize, empathize, and otherwise enjoy. Please send your thoughts, critiques, and possible prompts.
Thank you all very much and have a great day!
First, I would like to thank you for reading this entry, and I hope you will return to view all subsequent posts. My initial goal is to get my ‘Gothic Fashion’ magazine started. I will rely on you irrevocably for feedback, input, and suggestions.
I found myself sifting through my reading material, burned out on my fan-fiction (real books demand too much time that I never seem to have), and I realized I am piteously unaware of the world around me. Most things I find lately lose my interest, so my glitchy brain spat out, "Well, why don’t you make something you like?" Brilliant! But how? I have no resources, no connections, no assets, and not much at all to offer, really. I only have my meager professionalism (fraught with bouts of childish distraction), my eagerness to learn both useful and frivolous things, and a desperate pursuit of a livelihood that my forthright honesty remain intact in business and otherwise (as I despise thieves and liars). Now while this tumult ripped through my mind in those weeks, I managed tearing through a book series I'd been dying to finish. (The books were quite short for me, and the witty protagonist kept me well entertained.) In the later books, the main character is a junior in high school, so the topic of "What do you wanna be when you grow up?" is, of course, rehashed. So, the best friend of said main character suggests "Hey, you could start your own magazine!"
Well, that sounded perfect for me, but how would I start? (See above: no resources.) So I kicked the idea around in my head, liking it all the more; though, it seemed to become more daunting. Still, I saw promise in it. I could promote and advertise for my favorite websites, local businesses and craftsmen, discuss (or rant on) issues that mean something to me, and talk about my own style to what I would presume to be a like-minded audience. I could rage against the machine, as it were, and otherwise attempt to become my own person. I cannot really say that I want to make a difference, per se, because that can mean many things depending on who interprets what I (try to) say.
I want to make things better. The thought of a uniform world revolts me, while the world I see now is hateful and corrupt. If things were all the same, nothing would ever change (obviously), but this is where corruption is the difference. It is an ichor makes things worse, it makes all things different seem evil and abhorrent. Therefore, we have bullying, prejudice, fear, and so many other negative feelings for strangers -- or even a neighbor we do not speak to -- simply because we are taught that if someone is different, they are bad for you to even be around. Had I the power to do so, I would make this place a more peaceable montage of things, where common sense is used instead of prejudice. If none of us are different from anyone else, do we still have a place? There are those of us who simply cannot identify with what are perceived as cultural norms in the mainstream, let alone comply.
And so here we are, the different and rebellious, the dark and defiant. We sing our music off-key in our privacy (but you would never know, because it is too loud anyway). We wear our funky or austere clothes and neon bright or pitch-dark nail polish, and feel artful, not wrong. Our artwork may be themed in a way that would make your skin crawl, or awe you with its beauty. Or both.
I humbly introduce to you what I intend to be as enduring as the vile and lovely topics I will share with you. I hope that you can sympathize, empathize, and otherwise enjoy. Please send your thoughts, critiques, and possible prompts.
Thank you all very much and have a great day!
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