Ask yourself: Why do Republicans want to change the order of Presidential succession to give the office to APPOINTED officials?

http://www.chron.com/cs/CDA/ssistory.mpl/nation/2418720

And why do they want to change the constitution to discriminate against gays? Is the constitution just not good enough for them?

If you can vote, you better fucking do it this go-round.

So for Dr. Seuss’ 100th birthday, I thought I might put some musique du jour on my ‘blog here. But I couldn’t come up with any good ideas for which song to use.

Then iTunes’ shuffle play hit on it: ‘Helicopter,’ from XTC, 1979. This is from their album ‘Drums and Wires,’ during the time when the music press was calling them the punk Beatles.

It’s appropriate for Dr. Seuss Day, because it’s a context which can contain the lines: “She’s a laughing giggly whirlybird/She’s got to be obscene to be ob-heard”

Ya know how sometimes you read the singles ads in the paper and you feel inadequate?

Well, I just read a house-sharing want-ad, and I feel inadequate. If only I were a sociable lesbian…

Want.

Food review: Chalupas, Taco Bell

I’m a fan of crap fast food. It’s blandness and uniformity is greatly reassuring to some part of me.

So it’s no surprise that my latest discovery is the chalupa, from Taco Bell. The chalupa is, essentially, a gyro, except substitute chicken or beef for the lamb, and no dill in the tzadziki sauce. That’s it.

Taco Bell sells these things as either ‘supreme,’ as described above, or ‘rancho,’ where you substitute a ‘spicy southwestern sauce’ for the sour cream. Rancho is nasty. Don’t order it.

In fact, don’t order either. Take your money to the grocery store and buy some broccoli, some kale, and a bag of rice. Steam the green things, and cook the rice according to the package, or 2/1 water to rice in a covered pot, bring to boil, turn heat to low, don’t uncover the pot until it’s all cooked.

But if you’re me, you won’t take your own advice. You’ll eat those chalupas and drink a big old Pepsi, and ponder how interesting it is to feel full and empty at the same time. Your obsessive inner self will be satiated, but the part of you that feels embarassed sitting in the car eating a chalupa won’t.

The Happy Poster Project.

Update: I’ve turned on the email-me-from-the-xanga-page thing. It should be possible now.

Ok, so what I’d like all of you out there to do is this:

Open up your little email programs and address book programs, and look me up. Find me in your email address book thingie.

If the email address you have for me ends in ‘ix.netcom.com,’ you need to send me an email from here on Xanga, so that I can send you a newer address.

I’ve had that netcom address for a really, really long time. A profoundly long time. I’ve been sending money to Netcom, and then Mindspring, and now Earthlink for years and years and years, even when I’ve had cable internet through other ISPs. The justification for being too lazy to end the account was that I travel a lot, and would need a dialup. That has always been bullshit, but now it’s especially easy to recognize as bullshit, since I can walk near just about any coffeeshop and open my laptop and be on the internet. Yay, 802.11! Yay open standards!

So, needless to say, my Netcom account is now history.

But, o for the old days… When Netcom first started up, your dialup would show you a shell prompt. You’d dial in and start using unix! The ix part of my ix.netcom.com address signifies that I was a PPP user, one who paid extra for the priviledge of being easier to admin, because I didn’t have to learn unix.