Tuesday, August 30, 2005
I have 25mB in my hotmail inbox
I have 25mB in my hotmail inbox!
Last night I was deleting things so it got to 50% out of the 2mB. When I woke up, I was using only 4%. Uh oh... But then... there are 25mB now! I heard this happening to some months ago, and it was said we'd all get it, and now it actually has!
No more warnings that my inbox is too full. No more waking up find it 99% there cuz of ads for meds. No more missing emails that didn't get in.
I can finally use my hotmail and not just have it!
The second is called Noodles On My Back and may take a while to load. I was told I'd love it and I absolutely did. It's worth the wait, you'll see.
And I love love love the little pink one!
I'm a hippopotamus and I've got noodles on my back, noodles on my back, noodles on my back...
Monday, August 29, 2005
I love the smell of autumn. I love walking in the rain when it's windy and the rain drops are tiny. I love watching the leaves fall from the trees, telling us it's time to rest. I love watching the rain drops running down my window. And the patterns they make when they stay. I love sitting on my bed reading, listening to the world, imagining my own.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Yes, there is a party but this has to stop.
Go to the bathroom.
Oh come on....
I get it now, this is just to annoy us.
Dare I dream?
Saturday, August 27, 2005
The first one was a really good one, I woke up smiling. I never wake up smiling.
The second one was annoying, someone helped me, then wouldn't leave me alone. It's best never to need anyone. Never ever.
There's a party in the building tonight. I went down for a while, there was supposed to be a quiz then pizza. It was boring, people were drinking, the quiz wasn't happening so I left. It's been a while since I did a quiz, which is too bad. I like questions.
I like having my facts straight.
Also I was watching a show today. I'm never gonna marry a rich guy. The more money you have, the more you expect. Unrealistic expectations. If I want money, I'm gonna make them myself.
I realize that this is a terrible generalization. It was just my instant reaction and usually my first reaction is the right one.
Friday, August 26, 2005
I woke up very early this morning and I went back to sleep. I had a dream about a big cabin. My family was there, or at least they were supposed to be my family, I just remember telling my brother something about a hotel in France and this was supposed to be it. But it was a cabin of some sort, a real big one.
Someone was at the door, some guys. They were talking about something and they never seemed to finish. They'd said they wanted to ask something or borrow something, and after a while I told them to tell me what they wanted, if they were just going to talk, I'd go back inside. They kept talking, I closed the door.
Skip forward to a house, big windows, a pool outside. A little girl is swimming in the pool. I'm watching from the other side. At the same time, I'm this guy coming over to the pool. I am him but at the same time I'm just observing. He tells the girl to come quickly, I have a feeling the guys from the cabin are after him. The girl gets out of the pool and they go inside.
Again I feel I'm him, but I'm just watching. He's getting the girl inside, but he's walking in front of her, looking around. I keep thinking; why is he walking in front of her? Wouldn't I have pushed her in front of me to get her inside as fast as possible to make sure she was safe? I can feel he's scared.
They both get inside but now I no longer see the guy, I'm him or he's me. I close the glass door just as the guys come. I've locked it, one of them is coming up, standing inches away from me on the other side of a thin sheet of glass. He puts his hand to his face, putting his middle finger up in front of my eyes. They go around the house. I wonder why they didn't break the glass, wonder what they want.
There are others in the house, they must be the girl's parents. I know them. There's another door, I remember locking one. Then there's another, the front door, that's locked. A minute or two passes. Then a key in the lock. They had a key. For some reason this isn't surprising. They come inside, say not to worry, they just want to call a taxi.
I'm sitting by a table. There's meat on the table... it's shaped like a big jar, but it's in some kind of fabric with a thin rope around the top. It's standing at the end of the table, right next to me. I don't know if I do this or if it's one of the guys, but someone pulls the rope, making the fabric pull up like a little bag, almost closing it but not quite. Some of the meat comes out of the top, some water with it. It makes me feel uncomfortable, I want to clean up what spilled and wash my hands.
Then one of the guys has a gun. I think what would happen if he put it to the meat, we'd have to watch our legs under the table, if he did that, would we all watch our legs so we wouldn't get shot? He puts the gun on top of the little bag of meat and pulls the trigger. There's a hole in the meat. I don't know where the bullet went.
Then I wake up.
I don't know what these dreams mean. And I don't really mind having them. They're not nightmares, they just make me think. Breathe a little faster as I wake up. Think a little more before I go to sleep.
Don't think I've dreamt about guns before though...
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
The gutter that runs along the roof goes down a drain right outside my window. From time to time, when there's too much water at the same time, it makes loud gurgling noises that sound like something is breaking really loudly.
Rain in Bergen doesn't just mean rain. When it rains here, it's always windy. I learnt that the hard way. You get soaking wet no matter how you hold your umbrella. If you manage to hold onto it. But it also means more noise, rain hitting the roof and wind blowing by. My window is so wet I can't see the world clearly.
Rain or no rain.
Do we ever see the world clearly?
Edit: of course that was supposed to be 4 inches, I don't know where my mind was at... I must have though 1 inch is 2.5 cm but still... Anyway, thanks to anonymous (aka teddy bear) for correcting me.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Got back to Bergen yesterday. First day of University, starting Development Studies. Since we were new, we were divided into groups lead by older students. They would be taking us around the city this week, starting out with a tour of the buildings where we'll be having our lectures and seminars. In the evening we went to two of the guys' place. Most people left to go to a concert, not having bought a ticket I stayed behind with another girl and three guys. After a while we headed down to the club aswell, losing sight of everyone we knew, I spent most of the evening walking around with this girl who kept wanting to go out for a cigarette. On the way back to my place around 2am I saw a hedgehog on its way across the bridge, probably on a way to a late party.
Woke up at 8:30am, sat up, thought 'No way!' and went back to sleep. The official opening of the Uni year was at 10, I hear it was fun... At 2pm I met the others in my group, sat around for a while before going to a bbq behind a club. It took so long for anything to happen, I decided to run some errands and get back home. Realized I'd forgotten the charger for my phone, called my dad to get him to send it. Early night.
9:15am, meeting for those doing Development Studies. Afterwards we all signed up for our subjects and for exams. Those who didn't have Uni email accounts sorted that out.
Quick info meeting about a subject I'm taking, then at 15:30 we all met up, having been told we were going to solve riddles all around town. Not having a clue what was happening, we were lead into a club were we were told we were going to sing karaoke. Never done that before and so Danish band Aqua's infamous Barbie Girl was performed by the 11 of us. Next up, a pizza restaurant. There we picked a song, got each our balloon filled with helium and sang the best we could in squeaky voices. The next so-called riddle involved throwing soaking wet sponges on the older students following us around; points awarded when you hit the head or the ass... I don't know who won the whole contest but I know it wasn't my group. Some of the others went to go sit in a park, I went home before I joined them at a club later in the evening.
As for what really happened that evening, I'm not quite sure. I managed to lose my bag and my beloved shawl which I bought at a flee market a year ago. Some guys were talking to me, when the lights were turned on and the beer taps turned off, I went out with one of them. I'm not sure what happened. I'm not sure I want to remember everything. I talked too much about something I shouldn't talk about, he wanted to have a glass of wine and 'have fun'. I told him politely he'd have to find another girl for that. He said no, he would just go home. He seemed nice though. I went back to the appartment alone.
The superintendent came with a key for me, I called my phone and was told it was at the police station. Not feeling my very best, slept for a while. Never going out again.
Went to the police station, was told it was closed during the weekends, come back Monday. Went to the shop looking for noodles but they were out. Not having eaten in 48 hours I still wasn't hungry but was starting to feel rather light headed, realized it would be a good idea to have dinner. Watched Analyze This again.
4:45am. Dooooaaadooooaaadooooaaa. Fire alarm. Out of bed, out the door, wait for roommates, down the stairs. When we get to the first floor there are lots of people standing by the exit, most in pj's, some still dressed. When we moved in last year, the fire alarm went off all the time. They didn't hook it up to the fire station system until August 1st this year. After 5-10 minutes there are blue lights outside. A firetruck pulls by the door on the floor below us. Then another one. Two firemen in smoke diving gear rush through the door, another with 'ordinary' fireman clothes. They stop on the ground floor for a while before one guy comes up the stairs. Ten minutes later someone comes saying "527... 527!". Two women with a bunch of keys comes through the door.
After about 25 minutes the alarm stopped and we started going back to our appartments. 527 being three doors down the hallway from us, the smell of something burnt was heavy in the air as we walked back to our rooms. Going back to sleep took quite a while, that alarm stays in your ears for a while. Apparently I wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep. We still don't know what happened, just that a girl in a wheelchair moved in there a few days ago. We've been wondering for a year who came up with the brilliant idea of placing handicapped people in wheelchairs on the top floor, unable to move on their own, not allowed to use the elevator in case of a fire. The rest of the day has been spent finding exam dates, schedules for lectures and which books to buy tomorrow.
What a week...
Sunday, August 14, 2005
I went outside a little after midnight. It's dark now. It hasn't been dark outside since May. Autumn is coming and the stars were bright. It's been so long since I saw them, and now that I can, I'm going back to the city with its street lights, houses, traffic. Everything it takes to brighten the world. And take the stars out of people's eyes.
I'm seriously wondering if the zipper in my bag is gonna break and it'll burst open. I've thought of that other times, but this is the first time I'm seriously considering taking something out. I also need someone to sit on my suitcase so I can close it (yes, I have both a bag and a suitcase). How will I ever get my teddy bears in?
Summer has been nice though. It started late; it rained throughout June and I stayed in Bergen longer than I planned. I came home just as July was about to start and continued my routine of doing nothing. I've been reading a lot, we went to Sweden, been walking around the mountains and... that's it. A month and a half gone just like that.
Allthough I don't particularly feel like going back to Bergen, I'll enjoy some time on my own. New books, new people, new buildings, new study, new professors, same appartment, same city. New roommate (flatmate) though.
It's always like this, isn't it? A new semester starting, you never want to let go of the freedom of summer, yet there's something comforting in getting into the routine again. I always used to hate getting up early (hate not as in dislike but as in really really hate) but fortunately Uni is a bit more of "pick your own study time". Or maybe it's not so fortunate since it usually means the same as "sleep until lunch time", at least for me. Not at the beginning though, I'll try and do better this year.
Autumn feels soothing. Leaves turning yellow, orange and red, falling off the trees. No more wearing skirts and t-shirts, put on some clothes and remember your umbrella. Spending time at the library (autumn is supposed to be time for books but I never got that... every season is a season for books in my world). It's such a calm season. That is when you're thinking about it, when it's actually here it's a lot colder, wetter and windier than you imagined.
Summer is, although not quite gone, on its way to other places, other people, other countries.
I'm leaving tomorrow and I'll be back for Christmas.
I hope it'll snow...
Thursday, August 11, 2005
I have been to four funerals.
When I was 10 my grandmother died of a heart attack. We went up north to the island during Easter to be there for the funeral. I don't remember much, other than we were sitting far back in the church and one of my cousins put a rose on the casket when they had lowered it into the ground. A week earlier, when my mother answered the phone, I knew what had happened before anyone told me. It was the first time someone I knew had died.
When I was about 13 our next door neighbour died. He was this friendly guy who liked his boat, used to be a sailor and had dark green tattoos on his arms. His wife and he had four kids, all grown up. He died while being out on the lake with his boat, the autopsy showed he most likely suffered a heart attack or something similar, feel overboard and wasn't able to get up. His boat was going in circles on the lake, someone got worried and went out to check. Someone told me people were gathered by the lake looking at the boat and it might be our neighbour's. Bad feeling.
When I was 15 the father of a friend of mine died. He had a drinking problem, his wife and two dauthers had moved out. All the girls in my class had been asked to sing in a teacher's daughter's wedding and we were all gathered at the church to rehearse early in the morning. My friend wasn't there, we all knew her father was in the hospital. Someone must have known he died that night, but no one said it. We all felt it. He died from a heart attack and was found by his wife. She'd been calling him but didn't get an answer, got worried and drove over. She found him next to the phone.
In 2001, when I was 16, my grandfather died. We went to the island and said our goodbyes, sitting on the very first row in the church. I told my mum when we got there "we're not sitting in the back", remembering my grandmother's funeral. "No" said my mother, "we're not." He died from a heart attack after being in hospital a few times. He loved travelling and sent all his (at the time) 17 grandchildren t-shirts every time he went somewhere. I didn't hear the phone ring that time, like I did when my grandmother died. My mum came to my room, knocked on my door, and I knew before I opened it. I was angry. I always get angry when I'm sad, and sad when I'm angry. I went for a walk in the freezing February air. Tears turned to ice if they weren't so warm. From one heart to another.
I was thinking about the guy in the bank. I only go to the bank once or twice a year, never really need to go there when I have my Visa card and can log onto my accounts on the net. I guess that's why it always seems like I just saw him the last time I was there. I think it's been two years since he died, walking home with some people, he fell off an old bridge. I didn't think of it when I was there, at the bank, but I always think about it afterwards. There's a guy that kinda looks like him, earlier I used to think they were the same person. But it's never him, and that's strange.
Maybe it's like that with people you just talk to when you need something, you don't know them you just know who they are and they know who you are. You don't notice when they die. When I was in France, one evening when my mum called, she said this woman had died from breast cancer. She was my mother's friend, my sister's nanny when she was a baby, my brother's friend's mother, our neighbours's grandmother. It was sad and for some reason it just got to me. When I got home I thought I saw her on the street several times but of course I never did.
When I was a kid, there was this man all the kids were scared of. Not really scared just... well, however kids get when others tell stories about people. He didn't have a job, just walked around, drinking a bit more than he should. My friend once told me he was so tall, he could see over the electricity lines(?) and could see us all the time. I didn't believe her but we were so young our own stories would scare us. He was hit by a car one night, standing in the middle of the road in total darkness.
People die. Sometimes it affects us more than we'd like to admit, other times we don't feel much and think we're strange for not feeling more. Like with the guy at the bank. He was a nice guy. He had glasses and a mustache and probable knew the name and account number of ever person in town. The kinda guy everybody liked. I only remember he's gone whenever I go to the bank. And it surprises me every time.
It's people like that who will live forever in the hearts of others. It doesn't take much. Just a friendly smile and a good heart. It's sad though... When I think of people like him, I wonder what comes after this. After life. If anything at all. It just seems so pointless sometimes, why do people have to die for no reason at all? I used to think that there's a reason, if someone dies it was meant that way. But if it happens to someone close to you, you can never believe that. I still want to believe there's a reason for everything, but I can't believe in something just because I want to. Just because it makes it easier.
Some say death is a part of life. Some say we have to accept it, saying it's the ultimate sacrifice someone makes because they want to make the world a better place. Some just die because... because it was an accident? People kill people. We'll all die some day. All we can do is hope we'll still be around for a while. And that our loved ones will be here with us.
Life is life.
What is death?
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
No wait, that was last year...
This year we're supposed to change diets constantly and complain that our butts look big. We should eat meat and no carbs and of course no sugar, but then there are carbs in vegetables so we can't eat lettuce. We should be vulnerable this year, not confident. Or maybe that was just last winter...
I know for a fact we were supposed to be confident this spring because then the fashion was girls with hairy legs just to say "we don't care".
Any wonder we get confused??
The easiest thing is just not to care. I used to hate myself for the way I looked. Then I realized there's no point, I just felt miserable for years and nothing good ever came out of it. So I just stopped right there and then. That was about five years ago and I've never looked back.
But come on, look at this picture. Click, check it out, say what you want but wow! This is from the Cape Town Fasion Week, outfit made by students of the Houte Couture School of Fashion Cape Town. At first I just noticed it because the nipple trend (which seemed to start at Galliano's fashion show earlier this year) is still going strong.
There was just something that struck me about this picture. It coule be the green against her brown skin, it could be the thing on her head, her big belt or it could simply be the necklace nestled between her breasts. Whatever it is, it's a gorgeous picture. And how can one not worry when one constantly sees pictures like these?
I, however, refuse to do so. Yeah right... At least you'll never hear me ask the oh so infamous question;
"Does my butt look big in this?"
Last night I had a dream. I was away somewhere, I believe my family was there and so were some other relatives. I was staying in a building, a tall one. I was wearing white clothes; a long white skirt, a white top, white shoes. I wanted to have a white purse but ended up with a black one. A little spot of black in between a lot of white.
I killed someone. Or I had killed someone, but it was like I was a man when I did it. It was like I wasn't conscious when it happened, I just knew I had done it and had to get rid of the body. I was meant to do it, I was killing the people staying there one by one. And nobody noticed. I offered to be the one to take out the trash and that was when I dumped the bodies. I was very careful not to let anyone notice what was going on, I don't remember feeling guilty about killing them, I didn't remember killing them, I just felt I had done it, knew I had done it, and the only feeling I had was a quiet worry that someone might find out.
Then something changed. I was to kill this girl.. a young woman. For the first time I was myself when I was doing it, I was conscious, I was aware what was going on. I gave her two Smarties (or the Norwegian equivalent), I seemed to believe she'd die from them but she just fell asleep. I realized it was just a dream. The woman, who must have been about my age, was coming to herself. I knew it was a dream but was still worried someone would discover what I'd been doing. I knew I had to kill her.
I had been very careful all along not to leave anything that might tell someone what was going on. I remember thinking I didn't have to wash off my fingerprints because I was staying in the building and it was only natural that my fingerprints were found there. The woman woke up and I had to knock her out. I saw a flower pot of glass but I couldn't use it because it might break. I saw something of wood or metal on the table, some kind of short, thick candle holder of some kind. I didn't use it though, I hit her in the face with my right fist. Then my left, then my right, then my left... I realized I didn't hit hard, she couldn't possibly get hurt by that, even though that was my intention. I realized how stupid it must look, how hard it is to keep your balance and not let your hands fly around.
I hit her so many times she fell over. I knew it was a dream, I thought it was a dream, she fell to the floor, a knowing smile on her face while I kept pounding. She must have died at last, I remember thinking I had to get her out. Then suddenly I was leaving, or I was in another room, holding something small I had to get rid of. I had the feeling it was a head. But it couldn't be, I'd have to get rid of the whole body, not just a head. Or a face. That's how I thought of it. A face.
The hitting might be easy enough to explain. While walking down from a mountain yesterday, my sister asked me how high I could kick so we were walking down the hills kicking our feet in the air. Then she said she wanted boxing gloves and a bag and started talking about how when someone came up behind her, she'd always used to turn around ready to punch them, that was just her way of reacting. Then we tried that and she turned around and I was gonna pretend to punch her. Unfortunately she came further back than either of us planned and my hand went closer to her face than we thought and I ended up punching her in the nose.
It wasn't hard and she said it didn't hurt (I tried punching myself in the face to see if it would hurt...) but that was the first time I almost punched someone in the face.
But what was all that stuff about all white clothes? I didn't see the clothes except in the mirror. I didn't see them when I put them on and I never saw my face. Girls and clothes, I know, but it wasn't like that, I was just wearing it all, I was putting on my shoes then trying to find a white hand bag. Instead of going all white I chose something black. Does that mean anything? It felt strange.
And why did I kill someone? Why didn't I know I did it until afterwards? Why did the last one wake up? Why did I have to kill her when I realized it was a dream? Would I have killed her if I didn't think it was a dream? Why didn't I stop to think?
My dreams have been getting more violent lately. I don't dream a lot, or if I do I don't "live" them and I forget them before I wake up. Those I have had the last months, and remembered, have been violent. I dream a bit then it skips something and I'm only there to pick up the pieces.
I read a bit more about it since now I'm able to see it 'from the inside', and it turns out that in two years, I'll most likely be heading off to South Africa, India, Peru, Ecuador, Uganda or China for a year. Those are the six we can choose from. Maybe my inexplicable dream of going to South Africa will actually come true? I'll have to stay here for four semesters which might be tough (I'd like to go abroad sooner) but the staying in one of those countries would give me the chance to see something completely different from what I'm used to.
I'm going to start Development Studies, starting with economy of countries in the south and geography. I realized that if I do this for three years and get a bachelor degree, I'll be 23 (almost 24) by the time I finish. That's not too old. After high school I spent a year in France not studying at all, then I had my one year course of psychology which I'd just like to forget all about. Now, two years after high school, I'm starting a bachelor degree. I just hope I can stick it out.
I used to worried about messing around too much, wasting time. But when I came home here this summer my parents told me what my classmates from five years ago were up to and I realized half of them actually live at home, having a job in town or somewhere close. Then I went to meet some of them and apparently I'm not the only one who doesn't know what to do with my life.
It's all starting over again.
I'll do it right this time.
A few days ago I wrote a post that disappeared cuz Blogger wanted me to log in again and hadn't saved it. That happened all the time a few months ago, I started saving as I wrote but I haven't had any problems for a while. I didn't write that post a second time cuz I figured if Blogger wants to annoy me then fine. I won't give it the satisfaction of doing the whole thing again. I'd struggled with the html codes so long it wasn't worth it to do it again. Not right then anyway.
Basically what I was trying to say then was I read an article in a newspaper. It said Russian scientists/researchers had found a relationship between the size of a man's feet and the size of his penis. The formula goes like this:
foot length in inches + 2"
Remember that it's the length of the length of the foot and not shoe size, you'll find tables for conversion right here. It's been tested on a few thousand men and has been right in 90% of the cases. What do you think? Does it seem right?
As for there being too much sex on here... I do have to say I don't agree. Sometimes I talk about life or dreams or the weather, sometimes I talk about sex. I'm not having it, I might as well talk about it. It's just about the most natural thing there is.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Autumn always seems like such a peaceful time. I love summer and I wish it could stay forever, but when autumn comes, things slow down. There's no more shorts and tank tops, you have to put on more clothes and you stay inside more. No more getting burned by the sun, however much I love that, there's a time for everything.
Autumn means time for reading, time for studying, time for routine coming back into my life. Unfortunately, autumn in Bergen also means rain, like everywhere else, but at the same time, rain in the world's rainiest city is not like rain anywhere else.
Did you know that today is the International Orgasm Day? Apparantly it is, and it was started in 1998 by Alex Hirka who funnily enough has a blog right here at Blogger. I first read about this in a Norwegian article, in case you don't read Norwegian there's something here about Journée de l'orgasme, and if you don't read French either I'm afraid I can't help you.
When I was trying to look for something on the subject, the Internatinal Orgasm Day, I just kept finding something about Brazil and May 9th. Then I read this thing, which I found kinda funny. Apparantly there's an orgasm day in Brazil that everyone writes about and an international one that no one knows about. I tried 123greetings.com and they didn't have Orgasm Day on either May 9th or August 8th. They usually have all kinds of days (my birthday, October 15th, is known as Sweetest Day, Grouch Day and Sewing Lovers Day, btw check out this one.)
It's International Orgasm Day and nobody knows...
"Could it be something in the air?" the mothers of Hornindal ask. Below the road only girls are born, above it, only boys. The last born, a boy, follows the tradition, and lives above the road.
The phenomenon is special. While below the road you find long hair, pink colours and dresses, you find blue shirts and short boy's hair above the road. The theories about the reason are many.
Earlier it has been speculated in both the water and the father's professions. An old saying claims the explanation of the sex of the children lies in the love act itself;
"inn og ut så vert det gut, inn og vente, så vert det jente".
- "in and out it's a boy, in and wait, it's a girl".
But the mothers of Hornindal only laugh at the questions of what they believe to be the reason.
"It has to be something in the mountain air that is different on the north- and the south side" they joke.
- A fight about the boys
There are certainly more girls than boys, it's 12 to 4. Standing by the road waiting for the bus has been the biggest problem for the boy-side, but now there are two in school age so it's getting better.
"A luxury problem for the boys" one of the fathers states and smirks.
"Yes, it could turn into a fight for the boys" a mother answers.
"They can risk having to go out several times a week" they laugh.
The last born follows the rule
None of the mothers confirm they expect more kids, but think they have been reasonably productive.
"Those with only two should get a few more" thinks one of the mothers of three. They assume the tradition will keep. The last born had the right sex. In the push chair lies a little baby boy, completely oblivious to what awaits him as the fourth boy on the boy-side, versus the three times as many girls across the road. If there, in spite of everything, should come a boy on the girl-side, or the other way round, it will almost be a sensation.
Things do happen in this town...
Please excuse the hopeless language in the text, translation is not my strong side.
Police say death was accidental, investigate
farm on cruelty suspicions
SEATTLE - A Seattle man died after engaging
in anal sex with a horse at a farm suspected
of being a gathering place for people seeking
to have sex with livestock, police said Friday.
The horse involved in the incident was not
harmed, and an autopsy of the unnamed man
concluded that “the manner of death was
accidental ... due to perforation of the colon,”
a police spokesman said.
“The information that we have is that people
would find this place via chat rooms on the
Web,” said Sgt. John Urquhart of the King County
Although sex with animals is not illegal in
Washington state, Urquhart said that investigators
were looking into whether the farm, located in
Enumclaw, 40 miles southeast of Seattle, allowed
sex with smaller animals that resulted in animal
cruelty, which is a crime.
“If you’re talking about sheep or goats, there
could be some issues,” Urquhart said.
From Reuters via MSNBC.com
Sunday, August 07, 2005
He said "it was so u".
I'm not sure...
It is interesting though.
Edit: The link has been removed as I was made aware there's a trojan ready to install itself on your computer as you open the page. Hope you didn't have time to check it out, if you did, please run a scan to see if you got it. It seems easy enough to get rid of.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Guys are stupid. And for those who say they are men, not guys:
Men are stupid!
Sometimes they're stupid because of what they say, sometimes because of what they don't say. Sometimes they say something they shouldn't, other times you can't make them talk to you no matter what you do.
Stupid as in mean, not stupid as in not smart. Well...
As the woman I am, I'll say what all women are supposed to say.
It's not what you said, it's how you said it.
From a conversation between an 21 year old male and a 20 year old female:
Greg: what are you doing?
apples: nothing much
Greg: i had oral sex yesterday
apples: she broken up with her bf yet?
Greg: nope, this is another one
apples: oh so it's not the girl you love, it's another one
apples: that's nice
Greg: this one has huge boobs
apples: what about the other girl?
apples: you still like her?
Greg: a lot
apples: so why have sex with another girl?
Greg: just oral sex
apples: still sex
Greg: i don't know
apples: does the girl you like know you have oral sex with the girl with big boobs?
Greg: the other wanted to and i didn't say no
apples: does she, the girl you like, have oral sex with other guys?
Greg: she has a bf
apples: does she have oral sex with the gay guy? [they, Greg and the girl he likes, thinks her boyfriend is gay]
Greg: i don't think so
apples: does she have oral sex with other guys?
Greg: not that i know of
apples: would you mind if she did?
apples: so let me get this straight...
apples: you like this girl a lot, correct?
apples: you only want to have sex with someone if you really love her
apples: you want to have sex with this girl
apples: you don't want her to have sex, even oral sex, with anyone else
apples: so you have oral sex with someone else instead
[five minutes later]
Greg: i feel bad
Now, Greg is a nice guy. I don't know him too well but he's always sweet. The conversation with him wasn't what made me think guys are stupid, it was only what made all the thoughts in my head line up behind each other, form the picture that I now see.
It's all so ridiculously easy.
I'm not gonna say anything about sex here, even though that was the track the conversation turned onto. I should know better than criticizing anyone about that.
It's just the casual attitude everything is received with. Then it's stop and think and "oops.." a little later. Think before you act!
But not even that is what made me think guys are #%&$@£¤!!
If someone says something you don't like to hear, if someone is angry with you or you're arguing, if someone is in your face bugging you so all you want to do is punch them in the mouth, there's one thing that is good about all these scenarios. The person is there. Maybe right next to you, maybe holding a phone on the other side of the city, maybe behind a computer screen in another country. But the person is there, and you can talk. Communication.
Maybe the talking becomes more like screaming and shouting, but at least you're communicating in some way. It's harder when you can't do that. When the person can't or doesn't want to talk to you.
One of the reasons I never tell anyone how I feel is that I don't want anyone to know how I feel, in case it's just stupid, in case it ends bad, or in case... in case of anything and everything. Another reason is that when I start talking, I say too much. I feel too much. It's always too much. People can't handle that. Just like now, I'm thinking I feel things I shouldn't. I know I do, and I've tried not to. I've tried to stop thinking, I've tried to stop feeling. I thought I was on my way there a couple months ago but no luck. Just a slap in the face and back into an imagined reality.
I know I'm walking in circles. Please ignore the first half of this post. I'm just thinking too much. And I'm angry. In a very calm way. And frustrated. And annoyed. And... confused. How do you know if someone doesn't want to talk to you, just doesn't care that much whether they talk to you or not, or if they really can't talk to you, for reasons they can't control? How much can you really trust someone?
Guys are stupid.
See how easy it is, when you don't understand something, just to put a label on it?