Happy Halloween

Ghostbuster Tribute



Dr. Peter Venkman: This city is headed for a disaster of biblical proportions.
Mayor: What do you mean, "biblical"?
Dr Ray Stantz: What he means is Old Testament, Mr. Mayor, real wrath-of-God type stuff.
Dr. Peter Venkman: Exactly.
Dr Ray Stantz: Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies. Rivers and seas boiling.
Dr. Egon Spengler: Forty years of darkness. Earthquakes, volcanoes...
Winston Zeddemore: The dead rising from the grave.
Dr. Peter Venkman: Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together - mass hysteria.

I could be wrong...

I think we ought always to entertain our opinions with some measure of doubt. I shouldn't wish people dogmatically to believe any philosophy, not even mine.
~ Bertrand Russell
British author, mathematician, & philosopher (1872 - 1970)

Amy Alexandra

Women aren't attracted to men

Women are not actually attracted to men. There is a vague idea of what a man is physically, and some are better than others aesthetically speaking, but the purely physical appearance of a man is almost inconsequential unless he is horribly ugly or outrageously attractive.

Women are attracted to status, money, how much a man smiles and laughs, how many friends and resources a man has, how full a man's life is--how many "cool," "exciting" and prestigious things he is doing or connected to.

They are interested in how other people view him--how many people want to be around him, how other people interact with him and whether their interactions convey that he is special and amazing. They want him to be extremely outgoing and aggressive, they want him to demonstrate his status over other people by dominating them in various non-violent ways.

A woman's attraction to a man is a function of her jealousy at the thought of another woman having that man. She doesn't care who he actually is or EXACTLY what he looks like physically, she only cares about the VALUE of the life he has constructed around himself.

A woman basically is a greedy materialistic prostitute. Although that sounds vulgar, it's true. She trades her physical self to buy into the success a man has created for himself.

As a man, I fall in love with how a woman is physically. I fall in love with simple parts of a woman. Like the way her hair falls around her face, the line of her neck, her shoulders. They way her ears might peek from her hair. Her eyelashes. The size and shape of her hands, her fingernails. The way she walks, the way she looks when she is tired or annoyed, the sound she makes when she sneezes, coughs, or cries. The way she sits in a chair. The way she breathes while experiencing different emotions. The way her lips move. A million little things.

Sure, a huge part of my attraction is mental, but the powerful seed of love that builds within me and crystallizes is based greatly on visual things that set off torrents of emotion and need.

It seems to me that women almost cannot think for themselves. Their estimates of worth are based on other peoples' estimates of worth. They don't really find an object beautiful on their own. The object becomes beautiful when other people let her know that it is beautiful.


I'm completely unable to reconcile the differences between men and women. It seems like success with women is equal to spending half of your life working to create a giant illusion, something vastly tiring and annoying, while sacrificing your own true self and your own interests. We construct our lives around nest-building. We're like male birds building nests and showing them off to attract mates. It's pathetic. Everything we do is to get women. It is a fucking shit deal.

Someone needs to invent a drug which has no hormonal imbalance side-effects but is able to erase a man's sex drive and attraction to women. It would increase productivity rates to incredible heights. I'd be free and happy. I'd feel complete.

Cactus Moon last night...

Debbie: I'm not gonna go to the end of the fucking line, who the fuck are you? I have just as much of a right to be here as any of these little skanky girls. What, am I not skanky enough for you, you want me to hike up my fucking skirt? What the fuck is your problem? I'm not going anywhere, you're just some roided out freak with a fucking clipboard. And your stupid little fucking rope! You know what, you may have power now but you are not god. You're a doorman, okay. You're a doorman, doorman, doorman, doorman, doorman, so... Fuck You! You fucking fag with your fucking little faggy gloves.
Doorman: I know... you're right. I'm so sorry, I fuckin' hate this job. I don't want to be the one to pass judgement, decide who gets in. Shit makes me sick to my stomach, I get the runs from the stress. It's not cause you're not hot, I would love to tap that ass. I would tear that ass up. I can't let you in cause you're old as fuck. For this club, you know, not for the earth.
Debbie: What?
Doorman: You old, she pregnant. Can't have a bunch of old pregnant bitches running around. That's crazy, I'm only allowed to let in five percent black people. He said that, that means if there's 25 people here I get to let in one and a quarter black people. So I gotta hope there's a midget in the crowd.

Hey! This is me...

Limp Bizkit - Behind Blue Eyes



I'm so misunderstood!

Life is about going "ALL IN"

William Parrish: Love is passion, obsession, someone you can't live without. If you don't start with that, what are you going to end up with? Fall head over heels. I say find someone you can love like crazy and who'll love you the same way back. And how do you find him? Forget your head and listen to your heart. I'm not hearing any heart. Run the risk, if you get hurt, you'll come back. Because, the truth is there is no sense living your life without this. To make the journey and not fall deeply in love - well, you haven't lived a life at all. You have to try. Because if you haven't tried, you haven't lived.

I used to really like this song :)

Danger Danger - Bang Bang

Relationship thoughts

Intimacy is one of out legitamate needs and a prerequisite for happiness.

Intimacy is a complete and unrestrained sharing of self.

Unwilling to reveal ourselves, we remain always alone.

A good relationship has trust, best interest at heart, and someone helping you become the best version of yourself.

Life Thoughts

My essential purpose is to become the best version of myself.

Focus on what is right, not on what is wrong.

Life is not a problem to be solved, it is a mystery to be lived.

The 7 Dwarfs of PMS

1 Weepy...Usually the first Dwarf to rear its ugly head especially if there is a "touching" moment during things like TV commercials that you ordinarily would not look at twice. This is a sure sign that the rest of the gang can't be too far behind.

2 Piggy... Piggy has quite an appetite for sweet and salty foods. Piggy can usually be found trying to calm down Weepy and make her smile. Piggy is Weepy's best friend but will go overboard in trying to help. If Piggy doesn't watch out then Bloaty is sure to visit.

3 Bloaty... Bloaty comes to town to bitch slap Piggy for chowing down one too many chips. Bloaty takes her job seriously and once she comes to the party she is one of the last to leave. Unfortunately Bloaty wakes the evilest dwarf of them all...Bitchy

4 Bitchy...This bad boy is sometimes referred to as THE Terminator. Don't mess with this character for she is prone to hissy fits. Bitchy takes no prisoners and usually makes no apologies. This evil-doer is likely to have Weepy watching her back and backing her up at any moment so beware. Just when you think you know what Bitchy is bitching about, Weeping will come on the scene and confuse you. Then there is a possibility that you will be the one saying "I'm Sorry".

5 Horny...This one has quite the appetite of a different kind. This creature has been known to have horny hormone levels that rival many 18 year old boys. Bitchy tries her hardest to keep Horny hidden from view. Weepy can sometimes keep Bitchy at bay long enough for Horny to make her move and be satisified. Men, you need to know that she exists and loves to come out to play.

6 Crampy...Never a welcome addition. But Crampy is usually a clear sign that Red-Tide will be here soon. Crampy can really get Bitchy going even worse than Bloaty. One of the best ways to soothe Crampy's attacks is to let Horny do her thing. Sometimes it might be best to sleep through Crampy's visits.

7 Red-Tide... While this character can sometimes be out of control and a messy trouble maker she is always an inevitable and sometimes welcome guest. But once she makes her appearance the end is always in sight. And unfortunately once she makes it onto the scene the others make an extra effort to be noticed and primary.

No overtime!

Jeremy Grey: Oh, that's great? Why don't you feed me to the lions? Step on my head when I am drowning.
John Beckwith: What?
Jeremy Grey: What do you mean what? What a great friend. John, you have a wedding and a reception to seal the deal. There's no overtime.
John Beckwith: No overtime. Yeah, well what about the Chang wedding three years ago. 2am, you drag me to watch you and some chick play Mah-Jongg with her grandmother? In a retirement home.
Jeremy Grey: Completely different situation. She was a very family-oriented girl.
John Beckwith: Yeah.
Jeremy Grey: That was my first Asian!

blink-182 - What's My Age Again?

TaxiMark's Horoscope

Your finances are getting to be a bigger issue in your life right now, so conservation should be a high priority starting today. There's no need to drastically change your lifestyle, but a few nips and tucks here and there might be a good idea. Go for the tall coffee, not the grande. Brown bag it for lunch for one week. Maybe public transportation isn't so bad after all. Tiny changes will give you new experiences while helping your wallet, so check them out!

DRIVING ETIQUETTE

I am a taxi driver and conduct myself in a professional manner at all times but I certainly understand road rage.

I expect the worst from Tucson drivers and I am rarely disappointed.

If people are honking, flashing their lights and shaking their fists at you perhaps you should reevaluate some of your driving habits.

Here are a few pointers...

When sitting at a red light please don’t redo your makeup, read a newspaper, change your clothes, masturbate, give head to your passenger, allow your passenger to give YOU head or begin distracting activities that may cause you to be otherwise occupied when the light turns green.

When the light actually turns green there shouldn’t be a deliberative process necessary before you STEP ON THE GAS.

The roads are overcrowded as it is and all it takes is a couple of retards sitting and staring at a green light for 15 or 20 seconds to start a chain reaction behind them that leads to what we call VOLUME SLOWING.

If you are in the left lane and you want to drive at a leisurely pace, I understand. GET IN THE RIGHT LANE. This is the lane for slower traffic.

If you are driving in the left lane and you are dead even with the guy in the right lane, YOU ARE FUCKING UP.

There are people behind you with appointments to keep, jobs to go to or who may have an urgent need to use the bathroom. Please move to the right and let them get about their business.

I don’t know how many times I’ve had to sit and listen to my fare grind his or her teeth because there are three flaming A-holes side by side leisurely driving down the road 15 or 20 miles below the speed limit.

MERGE RIGHT ASS HAT! My meter is running and you are COSTING MY PASSENGER MONEY.

Some of the people passing you may exceed the speed limit in doing so.

This is perfectly legal but even if it wasn’t please remember, YOU ARE NOT A LAW ENFORCEMENT OFFICER. We have paid professionals who are perfectly capable of enforcing the law and YOU ARE NOT ONE OF THEM.

By intentionally slowing traffic you ARE BREAKING THE LAW and may be ticketed for this violation.

If you are in the right lane and someone in the left lane is signaling to get over LET UP ON THE GAS. I don’t know how many times I have put on my signal for thirty or forty seconds and tried to merge right only to experience a blaring horn and upraised finger from some retard who has been pacing me in my blind spot for the last mile or two.

Just for the record, this is why so many people fail to signal turns and “cut you off”. They know that as soon as you see the turn signal you will probably sit your passive aggressive ass directly in the way and stay there for as long as possible.

About being “cut off”. The only people who are “cut off” are those who REFUSE TO YIELD. You do not own the road and must share it with about a million other drivers. Get good with this fact or move out to Busted Dick Montana where your driving won’t raise eyebrows and tempers.

There are other distractions that interfere with the flow of traffic that you should learn to deal with in a mature and proactive fashion like accidents.

Accidents happen but unless you are a medical professional who is slowing down in order to stop and render aid KEEP MOVING.

I’m not advocating blasting through police diversions at 60 miles an hour but there is no need to slow down to a crawl when passing an accident,

RUBBERNECK’S CAUSE ADDITIONAL ACCIDENTS so if you and your voyeur family don’t want to become a part of the roadside tragedy you are gaping at, GET A MOVE ON.

The same goes for other roadside diversions including break downs, pretty girls getting ticketed, accidents on THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET, emergency vehicles going in the opposite direction on a divided road and related events.

Clearly if you’ve just polished off a 12 pack you should be riding with me.

We all have cell phones nowadays. If you have one, get a headset, you need both hands to drive.

If you’re having an argument with your sweetie, PULL OVER and finish it in a parking lot instead of the middle of an intersection.

In conclusion. I don’t care what kind of self-absorbed butt nugget you are in the rest of your life please remember that you are piloting a couple of tons of metal, glass and plastic around the road.

Try to rise above your vile self just long enough to get from A to B without pissing every other driver on earth off and we’ll all be a lot happier and some of us may live a little longer.

Thank you in advance for your fine cooperation.

I relate to Fox...

Mulder: Why is it that every time I think I know the answers, someone goes and changes the questions?

Oasis - Champagne Supernova

People suck

"If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite you. It is the principal difference between a dog and a man." ~ Mark Twain

Honesty

Detective John Kimble: I really appreciate your honesty. You happen to know someone that is not better than me?

Jade: Honestly, honesty is very scary.

Coles: There's no room for honesty in a healthy relationship.

Vertical Horizon - Everything You Want

Women

Dr. John Becker: Every time a guy figures out the rules you women change 'em. You know if we're attentive all of a sudden we're smothering, if we need you we're co-dependant, if we don't need you we're emotionally cut off. You know if we dare ask you what the rules are you say 'If you don't know I'm certainly not gonna tell you.'

Not naming names...

OK. The Phoenix Suns basketball team is in town doing their training camp. And a few of them (I'm not saying) decided to go out to the Cactus Moon this evening. So they created a buzz and people were talking. Now I picked up 4 skantily clad women in their early 20's, who were talking. Talking about how so and so was so nice and how they were going to meet up with them at their hotel later. (the Westin La Paloma, for those wishing to stalk) Now I'm not looking up who is married and who isn't, and I'm not judging. But WOW! Girls sure can be impressed by huge men with alot of money! Who would have thought!

Too much to ask?

Maybe this is asking too much, but . . .
I'm looking for inspiration and was wondering if there are any Tucson women out there who would be willing to share some of their goddess-energy with me, to put some spark in my day: I would really like to see your tits.

I don’t want to be your boyfriend, significant other, etc. We don't need to meet. Online is preferred, since I don’t want to compromise you in any way. I don’t want your phone number, address, . . . nothing. I don’t need to see your face, just your tits.

I promise I won’t contact you or touch myself in any way. I’m not a pervert and I promise that I won’t try to phone you to whisper, “so, uh, what are you wearing right now?” because actually I’ll be looking at your tits and I’ll know that you’re not wearing anything. I’m really a pretty decent, respectful guy; and I want to see your tits.

I’m not looking for you to “flash” me your tits; this isn't Friday. I don't have any gripes with Flash Friday, and applaud any woman who flashes for fun. But this is different. If you'll excuse the expression, this isn't about titillation; this isn’t about sex: If I wanted to see just any old tits, well, I’ve heard rumors that there might be some secret sites on the Internet where I could maybe find pictures of actual breasts. But I don’t want that. I want you. Real woman. Real tits. Real attitude.

I want to know that somewhere in this city there is a woman who knows about the power of her own tits and isn’t afraid of that power.

What your tits look like really doesn’t matter. Big tits, small tits, round tits, sagging tits, pointy, pierced, painted, pristine, powdered, pert, perky or pendulous tits. Bring ‘em all. I don't care about your age (18+) or your ethnicity. Bring ‘em. I need your tits. Flat-chested? Great! Bring your tits, because do you really think I'm going to be inspired by the lobular glands hanging off your chest? Is that what I’m talking about? No, I need to see your attitude. I need your “happy tit” attitude. I need to know that there are women who want to shake their tits at the night sky and howl like a wolf. Can you feel the energy, just thinking about it?!

Post-breastfeeding tits? Don’t you try to hide your tits away! You move straight to the front row! You are the Life-Giver! You create the future. You are a walking miracle! You are beyond beautiful! I need to see your life-giving happy tits. We should all be on our knees respecting your miraculous-mommy happy tits, rubbing them with perfumed oil. (I would volunteer for that; let me know.)

Behind every great man, there’s a great woman, rubbing her tits on his back. And in front of every great woman, is a pair of tits. Two of ‘em. Two happy tits. Tits are everywhere, and yet certain cranky people in our society try to keep them locked up out of sight. Why? It's so clearly wrong.

Tits bring people together, in a happy, friendly way. They’re always cuddly and fun.

Are you really going to let the failed moral standards of a repressive, patriarchal, Puritanical society stop you from showing me your tits? Think of the poor, sad Puritan pilgrim-woman, with her tits all bound up and hidden away. Are you going to let them get away with that?! No, you’re not! You’re going to laugh and smile and shake your tits in the face of The Man. (I would happily represent that Man if you had any symbolic civil disobedience planned. Let me know if I can help out.) You’re going to send me a picture of your happy, bouncy tits. The world needs your tit-energy!

And you’re not going to listen to the sour-faced, self-appointed “feminists” who want to spread their toxic life-hatred (‘Our women are being manipulated and objectified as mere sex-objects . .” Piss off, bitch! Keep your twisted, frigid analysis to yourself.) Fuck ‘em! Fuck the bitter haters! They’re your tits! Your body! Your power! Tit power!

It’s not Puritan-time anymore! It’s the twenty-first century, and you’re going to show me your tits not because you’re being manipulated, or because you’re a slut, or because you're being paid, but because you are FREE! FREEDOM!!!! It’s your choice, your body, and you can shake your tits like a wild woman! (Wild = untamed, free) Right here in the good ol' US of A! Land of the Free (free-swinging, enjoying-the-open-air tits), Home of the Brave (brave woman who is even now wondering how to operate her web-cam). O-o, say can you see my tits? (no, I can't because you haven't sent me the picture yet)

But, you’re thinking, “I’m not the kind of woman who would show my tits to a stranger.” Yes, dear one, yes, you are, because today is the day where you declare your independence and take full ownership of your tits. You’re going to enter a new head-space. They’re your tits, and you can show them to whoever you want (today, that’d be me). I’m pleading with you. Don’t accept the lies. Don’t accept the mental shackles. I have a confession: I was actually born a nudist. Yes, it’s true. But then someone, without my permission, put clothes on me and brainwashed me to think that it was “normal” to wear clothes. Completely tweaked my head. And it’s so hard to live outside that mental prison. And someone did a head-job on you too. They made you think your tits are somehow “wrong”. In fact, there are actually laws that say your tits are “indecent”. Evil, repressive laws. Your tits are never wrong or bad. Your happy tits are always wonderful. Your tits are always life-positive, life-affirming! And you can do it! I have faith in you. You can show me your tits and you’ll feel great about yourself.

Tits are everywhere! So good and happy and bouncy and fun! And there are tits in space now! Outerspace tits! But does NASA share? No, no they don’t, the uptight, small-minded bastards. Do they ever show pictures of happy tits in zero-g? No, they don't. Bastards. It would be so easy, and the world would be such a better place.

I love it when a woman shows a little cleavage in public. It’s like saying, “I’m nurturing, playful, tender, caring, strong and sexy as hell. I am the life-creator. I love my tits and I love being a woman.” I really love that attitude! I need to see your spirit, your joie de vivre! (that's French for “happy tits”).

“Million Man March”? Lame, lame, candy-ass lame. You want to see the world truly change? You want to see a revolution? Put a million bare-chested women down at the Washington Mall. Two Million Tits. The world would CHANGE! Love-centered! Life-affirming! Am I right or what? Your tits have power! You know they do!

So, here's the deal:

A) First, you should meet the following criteria. These are important, because the whole point of this is that I want to witness your real-time, in-the-moment, love of your wonderful womanhood and your bouncy goddess-given gifts:

1. you should have happy tits
2. you should be proud of your happy tits, and you should try to live up to the high ideals that your tits represent (love of self and others, life-positive, the future is important, etc.)
3. you should feel no shame about doing this. I want you to be happy and frickin' proud about being a woman and about your happy tits. You're doing this because YOU want to do it, because you know this is a liberating sacred gesture, because baring your breasts is an act of self-affirmation. And I want to bear witness.
4. you should live somewhere in or near Tucson (I want this to be real, I want to feel a connection; however, if you're in the Space Shuttle and you want to send me a picture of your happy tits in zero-g, that would be okay too.)

B) Second, take a picture of your happy tits. Close your eyes and think about what a miracle you are, about your potential as a woman. When you feel the self-love, when you feel your own power, when you truly feel that your tits are a force for Good in our world, snap the picture, and send it to me.

C) Third, you will spend the rest of the day feeling happy, liberated and free. You're friends will ask you, "why are you smiling so much?" and you'll just smirk and stifle a laugh, but feel REALLY happy, ELATED even. I will spend the rest of the day with a big smile on my face, grinning like an idiot, touched by the joy-giving power of your happy tits. People will see us, each living our own private lives, being really happy, and will realize that life is actually pretty good, and then they'll feel happy too. And other people will be inspired by their happiness, and so on, and so on . . . and your happy tits could send shockwaves of happiness through the city. You have that power!

All kidding aside, I truly love and respect women and I love their happy tits. Is that really so wrong? Tits are NOT sex organs, yet our whole society is afraid of them!! (“Mustn’t let children see them!!! Cover their eyes!!!”) What’s up with that! I mean seriously, WHAT THE FUCK??!!! The strongest metaphor for mother-goddess energy, and they’ve been banned as being indecent!! Huh??!! You think maybe it has something to do with keeping women down? Hmm? Maybe?

So, send me a picture of your tits. Thanks in advance. You're wonderful! Be Proud!

Email here!