tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80693328611299099842024-03-14T03:00:17.898-07:00Brettina's BlogA Walk Down Opinion Lane...Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-9385000956057700832015-06-14T15:23:00.000-07:002015-06-14T15:25:25.606-07:00Weekday VegetarianI am a meat and potatoes girl, through and through. Growing up, we had some form of red meat every night for dinner. I also have a severe dislike of beans. With that being said, I never thought I could ever be a vegetarian. Being a self-proclaimed animal advocate, I was called out by my vegan cousin, for being a hypocrite. What is the difference between a cow and a dog, or a pig and a cat. Just because two types live in my home (to be clear it's the cat and dog) and are pets, doesn't make their suffering more important than that of other animals. Then I saw this TED talk.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" mozallowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" src="https://embed-ssl.ted.com/talks/graham_hill_weekday_vegetarian.html" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="640"></iframe><br />
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It seemed completely doable, but I still did nothing. Then I saw this video:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/GQvukhDinII" width="420"></iframe><br />
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I had never seen a cow play before and how closely it resembled the way my own dogs play. As soon as the video was over I decided then and there to become a weekday vegetarian.<br />
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Why just a weekday vegetarian? Well, for me, it doesn't set me up for failure. Which, if I experience enough of, while trying to accomplish a goal, will make me throw in the towel. I will try to be an everyday vegetarian, but if on a Sunday, I get a craving for taco bell, like I did today, I'm not going to beat myself up about it because I went meat free for 6 days. Also, to make this easier for me personally, I allow myself fish. I eat fast food a lot (too much) and allowing fish makes my options greater and my risk for failure smaller. I think it also makes having a meat free diet something I could actually do, every day. I've only been doing this for 2 weeks, so I'm not sure if it will get easier or harder. So far it hasn't been difficult, and in those two weeks, I've actually lost a couple pounds. I'm not sure if it's the diet, or if it was the weight of my hypocrisy.<br />
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The first video is less than 4 minutes long. Watch it and be open minded to the idea.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-32778953494850800972014-02-04T13:48:00.002-08:002014-02-04T13:48:08.257-08:00New WebsitePlease check out my new website <a href="http://www.hoydenishtendencies.com/" target="_blank">Hoydenish Tendencies</a>!!Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-80699385412706005342014-01-19T22:02:00.000-08:002014-01-19T22:02:15.374-08:00Fight the Good FightAt one point in every one's life, our eyes were opened to one thing or another. Someone said something that made us think or possibly even changed our mind. What if that person had never said anything? If anyone has taught you anything, made you think or even changed your mind, there's a good chance you can do the same for someone else.<br />
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I've been told I'm too opinionated, that I should just leave well enough alone and there is no use arguing with theists, conspiracy theorists, etc... I firmly believe there is a use, it just may not ever be seen or may not be seen right away. Just opening a discussion in general, starts people thinking. Maybe they find something you said interesting and delve a little deeper on their own. Maybe someone that is not even part of the discussion is listening/reading and you're reaching them without even knowing.<br />
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One thing I've learned is that if you want to be heard, you need to be respectful. Nothing brings out people's defenses and shuts them down faster than being disrespected. Once you start name calling, everything you've said becomes instantly discredited. Being passive aggressive doesn't work either. People can see right through that. Always be genuinely courteous, even if someone starts being disrespectful to you. Keep your composure, as hard as it may be, and remember that they are most likely taking that route, because they have nothing else. They're starting to feel defeated. Again, you never know who you are reaching and somebody reading/listening will most likely take you more seriously and respect what you are saying, if you don't fall into childish behavior.<br />
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Always make sure you can back up what you say. Don't state your opinion as fact and if you state something as fact, be prepared to prove what you say and for the love of all that is good, don't back up your claim with here say.<br />
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Finally, realize there is a point when you just need to give up. You can only say so much before you realize that no matter what you say, it is falling on deaf ears. Once you have made your point, realize it is a lost cause and stop wasting your time.<br />
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Never stop fighting the god fight. Never.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-14871966010946985112013-08-02T20:50:00.000-07:002013-08-02T20:50:10.227-07:00It’s Time to Look Stupid<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;">Taken from "The Angry Therapist":</span></div>
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The most powerful tool we posses as humans is our capacity to love. Period. I don’t care how much money you make or how brilliant you are. If you don’t love big, you are small. Think about the people who have affected you the most in your life. Your family, parents, siblings, teachers, coaches, mentors, friends? Their lo</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;">ve for you is what grabbed your spine. You’ve changed because of their love. It’s what made you want to be better. We die for love. It’s been this way since the beginning of time, before social pressure and fear of looking stupid. </span><br /><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><br />We know this kind of love is valuable because when we lose it, nothing matters. Nothing. Your problems, accomplishments, dreams, are meaningless. You rack focus and those things become a tiny blur. If you’re recently mourning a death or an expired relationship, you know what I’m talking about. Love is lost and it’s crushing. Without love, we are puppets. But here’s the thing. We have the ability to love over and over again, deeper and deeper. I believe we under use this ability. You know how people say we only use like ten percent of our brain? I believe it’s the same with our hearts. Fear prevents us from loving fully. Many have been burned so bad, they turn that faucet off. I understand that. But then you’re not living your full potential. You are in fight or flight mode, protecting yourself instead of living your truth. You are hiding. Not living. To live means to love. That’s what living means, uniquely exercising the greatest power your posses. Maybe you’re not happy because you are not choosing to exercise that muscle. Or you’re afraid to.<br /><br />You can’t love fully without being transparent. Although we all have the ability to love, NO ONE on this planet can love the way you love. Our love is unique, each person loves differently and that’s what makes us beautiful. So if you’re going to love, fucking love. Love with everything you’ve got. Love fearlessly. Yes, you may get hurt. Chances are, you will. But if you don’t fully commit, you will never know your potential and the impact you can have on another. Many don’t love because they are angry. They have resentment. They hold grudges. Then it’s time to forgive. Because the act of forgiving is actually loving.<br /><br />Love doesn’t mean to just throw the word around a lot. It doesn’t mean cards and cakes. It’s an internal process. You can love hard without announcing it. Love is a choice to open your heart. That’s all it is. But or many, there are reasons why they can’t. Or won’t.<br /><br />I try to practice love in every aspect of my life, with my clients, friends, family, the barista at Starbucks. And I admit, it’s difficult. Fear creeps up. I feel stupid. Lame. But I will not allow something as stupid as me feeling stupid to prevent the greatest power I posses. You’re on this planet once. What’s stupid is you allowing your insecurities, ego, and pride to block your greatest gift.<br /><br />Love until you feel stupid.<br /><br />Then push past that.<br /><br />And love until you feel powerful.<br /><br />Because if you do, you will.<br /><br />And it will change everything.</span>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-48517783656462819502013-04-30T18:08:00.001-07:002013-04-30T18:08:36.878-07:00Confessions of a Dangerous MindWhat is more scary? What people think of us, or what we think of ourselves? Have we forgotten what we look like, because we've worn the mask so long? If we were to take it off, what scares us most, what they will see, or what we will? Either way, it's time to take the mask off. To be able to say, without a doubt, "this is who I am". Whether you're not proud of it or unapologetic about it, it's time to be honest with yourself and own it. If you don't like what you see, fix it. If you're content with who you are, keep on truckin'.<br />
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It's taken a while and it's a never ending journey, but I know who I am and I know what I'm comfortable with about myself. What I don't like, I've worked on and have learned to try and not give a shit what anyone thinks about me. Easier said than done, right. I believe the people that know me, know my heart and they know the things they don't like about me, don't define me. So here are some things that may change how people look at me, family and friends. Do I care what they think, yes. Does it scare me to admit these things? Yes. Essentially, I'm scared of myself. I'm scared that people will be scared of me. Let them. Who know's, maybe they should be.<br />
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Confessions of a Dangerous Mind:<br />
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<ol>
<li>I have contemplated using the "I'm Pregnant" lie. I would never now, but at one point, gave it serious consideration. </li>
<li>I once made out with a guy because he seemed to want to kiss me so badly, that I felt so sorry for him, that I gave in. I hated every second of it and vowed I would never do anything like that again.</li>
<li>I suffer from depression. I have to take medication for it and even then, still struggle with it on a daily basis. It can be crippling at times.</li>
<li>I've done drugs, a lot of drugs. A year of my life was dedicated to drugs. It was the greatest worst year of my life and while it gave me some fond memories, I couldn't have been happier when it was over.</li>
<li>There was a point in time, where I felt life was so exhausting, I didn't have the strength to keep going. I wasn't going to kill myself (I was too tired!), but I really wished that one day, I just wouldn't wake up and I could finally be at peace.</li>
<li>I'm so lonely sometimes, it hurts.</li>
<li>I would never murder anyone, but there is one person, who I think if I were to murder, I would not feel one ounce of remorse. </li>
<li>I'll never be over you, but I am learning to get past you.</li>
<li>I love my cat, more than anyone on the face of this earth and I think he loves me more, than anyone on the face of this earth, loves me.</li>
<li>I am not meant for anyone out there.</li>
<li>There are some people out there that do not care about me. These are the people I seem to care the most about.</li>
<li>I have abandonment issues.</li>
<li>I've had an affair with a married man. I was young and dumb and it's something that I am not proud of.</li>
<li>I stayed in a relationship with someone for far too long, because they were the "nice guy", even though I was sort of repulsed by them. </li>
</ol>
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Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-43387938723206413682013-04-30T16:45:00.001-07:002013-04-30T16:45:27.702-07:00What To Do, What To DoI've run into sort of a dilemma, so I've decided to pose this question to everyone, no matter what your belief may be. Having had a God for most of my life, I didn't realize how much of my life he was a part of, until I stopped believing in him. I was never very religious to begin with, so I never had a problem with taking the lord's name in vain. I actually did it quite often and still do. I still catch myself saying, "Thank God!", which I think has always been more of a saying, than me actually thinking he caused something for me to be thankful for. I've also grown accustomed to people referring to God when they speak to me and never thought anything of it. This is where my dilemma happens. I'm not sure what to say to simple statements like, "We'll pray for you", or when people tell me, "It's in God's hand now".<br />
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It strikes me as odd now, that there are no qualms in telling someone you will pray for them, assuming that they want to be prayed for or even believe in prayer, but for me to respond with a "no thank you", makes me feel like the biggest jerk and I'm hesitant to ever do such a thing. While it goes against what I believe in, it is a nice gesture and comes from a good place. Do I say to the person, "thank you, but I don't believe in prayer" and possibly open up a discussion that I really don't feel like having? When I simply smile and say, "Thank you", I feel like I'm conforming myself so as not to offend this person. Would the same respect be given if my belief was that plucking the feathers off of hummingbirds could make good things happen? I mean shit, if you could actually catch one, you're already off to a good start! Would they hold back the fact that they don't believe that? If so, why should I? </div>
Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-17898143935412227652013-03-27T17:57:00.000-07:002013-03-27T17:57:01.400-07:00Face Canvas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I'm super excited (please read that last part with a lisp), about a crazy new plan I have in life, that I've totally jumped, feet first, into. As some of you may or may not know, I've become an aspiring makeup artist and have some great adventures coming up, which I will divulge at a later time. Any who, as luck would have it, my cousin Kelli, who lives me, is an aspiring actress and her husband Alex, is a photographer. That means I get to do makeup, he gets to take pictures and she gets awesome head shots! It's like portfolio heaven! It's like a portfolio orgy!! Ew, wait, the words "cousin" and "orgy", should never be used in reference to each other. Ever. Let's us move on from this uncomfortable silence.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Alex is a super (again, with a lisp) talented photographer, that has given me a great opportunity by including me as part of his services and it's been great working with him, no matter how nervous I get! Not only that, I like to sit around and play/practice with makeup and since we're roomies, he's been taking pictures of some of the looks I've been trying out, which has been a lot of fun for me. If you would like to see more of his work, you can check out his <a href="http://www.alexjacobsonphotography.com/" target="_blank">website</a>. The <a href="http://www.alexjacobsonphotography.com/search/label/Pet%20Photography" target="_blank">pet photography</a> section is my favorite! You can also follow him on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AlexJacobsonPhotography?fref=ts" target="_blank">Facebook</a>, <a href="https://twitter.com/ajacobsonphoto/" target="_blank">Twitter</a> and <a href="http://instagram.com/alexjacobsonphoto" target="_blank">Instagram</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Without further ado, I would like to showcase some of our talents!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOXxBTZpO_Gc9O2LzJfjacV30QW2kzb6CHTddeC5Y7vF9QZytv-W60itR8kjhOsIY0uN2x07rUYG5TFtZ2UPUDkJzNhu4yQGf1wCsCOL2UKV7xv09vVAG4iGzudI3t-qYjh-MbYQep6HZ/s1600/734282_10152328613379625_159693307_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOXxBTZpO_Gc9O2LzJfjacV30QW2kzb6CHTddeC5Y7vF9QZytv-W60itR8kjhOsIY0uN2x07rUYG5TFtZ2UPUDkJzNhu4yQGf1wCsCOL2UKV7xv09vVAG4iGzudI3t-qYjh-MbYQep6HZ/s640/734282_10152328613379625_159693307_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Galaxy inspired eye makeup</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinppD80KbPby-hu7P1LlCs1RisnF5V3Cv0tOsMnWGtNOa6Mo92PLdWVRHRPgUQrsj4myCrC60r50K6pz19w3mBaappH1bmo6f1sk14j7fGjk3p-lz6TRozUI045tpYhTdWgdUIY07t_cC2/s1600/904078_10152328658204625_410738341_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinppD80KbPby-hu7P1LlCs1RisnF5V3Cv0tOsMnWGtNOa6Mo92PLdWVRHRPgUQrsj4myCrC60r50K6pz19w3mBaappH1bmo6f1sk14j7fGjk3p-lz6TRozUI045tpYhTdWgdUIY07t_cC2/s640/904078_10152328658204625_410738341_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We like to call this one "Summer Sunny Sunset" Makeup</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdr3rzOdFEjn7-oVEAOhDr2PI8yOdf2tOn_TRjTTYExLcGWKAP9djTFUzh3oy-pOdl3xmfI1zZ9So9uSwHiICjFjhgl1z6Pk5DmeQVo8KD2C9YFvMvTuOTvWaVo_pXCt4JHlrrA47yp_Q7/s1600/Brett+Sutherland+Kristen+Stewart+Style+Makeup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdr3rzOdFEjn7-oVEAOhDr2PI8yOdf2tOn_TRjTTYExLcGWKAP9djTFUzh3oy-pOdl3xmfI1zZ9So9uSwHiICjFjhgl1z6Pk5DmeQVo8KD2C9YFvMvTuOTvWaVo_pXCt4JHlrrA47yp_Q7/s640/Brett+Sutherland+Kristen+Stewart+Style+Makeup.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Makeup that Kristen Stewart had for a movie Premiere</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHVV56bsvylZnhzieq6VYjEGF7TdAVRYSHgQkNtbbMHNaqxz7OG148jfuaZ5J9rC7S1a1XK8vWWA-Ovxk0RIc4x5OwmW56Izww0ZfWFp2pgZedwZ8Mcd8l5CplYBu8JvO5S4ycmm_Yl6SX/s1600/1920s+style+makeup+black+and+white+los+angeles+character+photography.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHVV56bsvylZnhzieq6VYjEGF7TdAVRYSHgQkNtbbMHNaqxz7OG148jfuaZ5J9rC7S1a1XK8vWWA-Ovxk0RIc4x5OwmW56Izww0ZfWFp2pgZedwZ8Mcd8l5CplYBu8JvO5S4ycmm_Yl6SX/s640/1920s+style+makeup+black+and+white+los+angeles+character+photography.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1920's Makeup</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTpnPpxVjXY5Z9iBLQicMZWW6Nor5US1cfsLm71yGMTULZ8V5zB5_H990GM3nCwyzHt-KyKV4vtxZKGKJwsz7ghIJQrN_i-kraL9WFBu0XrTMOs-9VZ51OJX7MiD5BjikbXSXz_zdgYvWP/s1600/Varga+girl+look+Makeup+artist+Brett+Sutherland+of+Alex+Jacobson+Photography.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTpnPpxVjXY5Z9iBLQicMZWW6Nor5US1cfsLm71yGMTULZ8V5zB5_H990GM3nCwyzHt-KyKV4vtxZKGKJwsz7ghIJQrN_i-kraL9WFBu0XrTMOs-9VZ51OJX7MiD5BjikbXSXz_zdgYvWP/s640/Varga+girl+look+Makeup+artist+Brett+Sutherland+of+Alex+Jacobson+Photography.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50's Varga Girl</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgV6sOpTSHkM82DDccIsuf4QN0pi2VRycDHNLbQ15Y_rIM_BDyvL2taclxPppndFZJ1tAMqbFrmL22IVxji-phvHmypX55Q0oVUaUmsAHbI5Wg0ik-ZKeBqmidv58j1V4s1keZFUfTN-a/s1600/Twiggy+makeup+look+by+Brett+Sutherland+Hollywood+Photography+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgV6sOpTSHkM82DDccIsuf4QN0pi2VRycDHNLbQ15Y_rIM_BDyvL2taclxPppndFZJ1tAMqbFrmL22IVxji-phvHmypX55Q0oVUaUmsAHbI5Wg0ik-ZKeBqmidv58j1V4s1keZFUfTN-a/s640/Twiggy+makeup+look+by+Brett+Sutherland+Hollywood+Photography+%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Twiggy/70's</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqwDg3ruK_eWyXjZzC6J8noL95QIDS3tSOFbaF066yJqvAJdYry_AUSSTDkmf3fVBDAEiBn7XA9h8ehb6Uno-CXTeX-H1vW49uGHikHPChfWiiKZAIZYi2TJ7Bx55pxdRcCoNzgDi7L7r/s1600/535931_10152335417864625_1074840375_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqwDg3ruK_eWyXjZzC6J8noL95QIDS3tSOFbaF066yJqvAJdYry_AUSSTDkmf3fVBDAEiBn7XA9h8ehb6Uno-CXTeX-H1vW49uGHikHPChfWiiKZAIZYi2TJ7Bx55pxdRcCoNzgDi7L7r/s640/535931_10152335417864625_1074840375_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cheshire Cat</td></tr>
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Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-49127235417006854952012-10-30T14:36:00.001-07:002012-10-30T14:36:27.947-07:00Fred Bower Rm 128I just got off the phone with my Grandma, who told me some news that not only saddened, but sickened me. <br />
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A few of you might be familiar with the picture above. For those who are not, I'll explain. Fred was a man that lived in my Grandma's community, who had quite a fondness for the ladies. To him, every encounter we had was our first, but he never forgot one thing, he liked redheads. One day, while having lunch with my Grams, he gestured for me to come over to him and gave me this slip of paper. I playfully stuck it in my bra strap and told him I would see him later. Whenever we would pass in the hall, he would always try to get me to come up to his room, by enticing me with his two cats. My Grandma said he really loved those cats and talked about them often.<br />
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Recently, Fred's antics had become more than what the community was willing to put up with. He started grabbing the waitresses, pinching their butts and things of the sort. The community decided to evict him. He stayed with family until he found a new place.<br />
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Here is the news she gave me today. Apparently, while he was in between living situations, his family decided to take his two cats to the pound. A few days ago, he went to pick his cats up. He was told by the staff that the cats had been euthanized. He became so distraught, he had a heart attack right there and passed away.<br />
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This story breaks my heart. Not for the obvious reasons, but for the reasons leading up to these events. I'm shocked at the way the elderly are treated by their own family, by their own children. They are discarded and they are a burden. If it doesn't matter to the family, it doesn't matter. They take their possessions and toss them out, figuring they won't know the difference anyway. That with time, these people have lost any sense of attachment or emotion to what is theirs and they are too stupid to know the difference if it's gone. If anything the attachment and the emotion has only grown stronger, because that is all they have left. To think of these two cats, that kept Fred company day in and day out, were just disregarded by his family. Not just the fact that these were animals, but they were companions and were thrown by the wayside with all the other unwanted companions. They had no right making a decision on what to do with someone else's possessions. I wonder how important those cats are to the family now? I wonder how they feel, now that they realize, that he did know the difference.<br />
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Take care of the people that took care of you. Treat them like you would want to be treated and respect what's important to them, in the same way you would to be respected. It isn't easy, it can be a burden, but remember we were once, for them, not easy and I'm sure at times, a burden. Lucky for us, that they didn't do what we do to them now.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-27198222860437758132012-09-28T17:11:00.002-07:002012-09-28T17:11:42.716-07:00Please Meet Our Future<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">I want to hug this boys parents and thank them for being so open minded and raising such an eloquent little boy. Parents who realize they are raising the future. It's a little disheartening, that colleges will not allow him to take classes. I thought our institutional learning facilities are here to help grow and expand minds, not slow them down, no matter how old they may be.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-72502709830884662552012-08-14T18:05:00.000-07:002012-08-14T18:05:12.892-07:00Independent -adj: capable of acting for oneself or on one's own (aka forever single)I used to not mind being single. I embraced it. Now I'm starting to think, maybe a little too much. I've become so caught up, relying on myself, that I'm afraid to let it go. I know that is not supposed to be a bad thing, but it is, in my case. <div>
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I believe, that because of this solid, brick wall of independence that I have built around myself, I'm going to be single forever. Once I realized that, being single, sort of, terrifies me. I've gone about my days, building my independence wall, always assuming that someone would come along to help me. The wall has gotten so high these days, that I can no longer see out and no one can see in. I've become afraid that if, for one second, I let someone help me, that everything I have worked for will be diminished. It also doesn't help, that the few who have offered and I let help, gave up in the middle. Especially when I already feel an extreme weakness by doing so. </div>
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I also am starting to think there is a reason that men my age are still single. I've had the afterthought of, "well, now I know why he's been single this whole time". What if that afterthought applies to me also? What if there is something wrong with me and that's the reason I've been single for almost 9 years! I have even broke up with a guy, who told me it was probably for the best, because, "You are an awesome chick and I'm not at a point in my life, to be with a girl of your caliber". Really dude? Not only is that a bullshit statement, but you're just gonna let me go, because I'm just too awesome?! While I try to uphold the utmost awesomeness, apparently I'm doing something wrong. </div>
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I've also been told more than once, that, "if you keep being so picky, you're going to be single forever". I hate this statement. I'm basically being told to lower my standards and expectations, just so I can have someone. As if I'm supposed to settle and be happy with mediocre, because hey, at least I have someone! However, I do know, that some of the things I judge men about, are a little unreasonable. I fathom laziness and ungentlemanly behavior. Now I know I said before, that I feel weak asking for help. However, I feel that a man should be a gentleman and offer. I work hard, harder than a lot of men I know and if a guy can sit back and watch me do a man's job, without an urge to offer a hand, I'm going to show him the door. I know it's unreasonable to judge a man because he may not work as hard as I do. It's my choice to be like that, but I can't help but judge a guy who can't get his hands dirty. </div>
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So ladies, if you take away anything from this, let it be, that while you should be independent, don't become too independent. You don't want to hear the various things, that I have heard about myself, like, I'm intimidating, I'm too dominant, I can be emasculating, and apparently, speaking my mind and calling it like I see it, isn't such a good thing either. Go figure.</div>
Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-44686703290054847972012-08-11T11:48:00.001-07:002012-08-12T00:10:45.288-07:00Preacher! Preacher! I mean, Teacher! Teacher!This morning, I did my usual, wake up, roll over, grab my phone, and check Facebook, routine. I see a post on a subject that immediately infuriates me. I told myself that I wasn't going to write another post like this for a while. I thought I needed to write more about, say, the cute things my cat did today (he did A LOT of cute things thing today, in case you were wondering). I felt that maybe people didn't want to hear my rants anymore, but guess what? I have a blog and you don't, so you will listen to every word I have to say. Here is the post, and probably the only thing that would take precedence over my cute cat, that made me so angry:<br />
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Now, this has nothing to do with whether I believe in God, or not. Which I don't. However, I had this same opinion back in the days when I thought God did exist. God does not want to be in a classroom. Heck, the kids don't even want to be there, why would God?! Plus, he doesn't belong there. He's too old and I'm pretty sure someone who is supposed to have infinite wisdom, doesn't need to be in school. Also, there is this little thing called the First Amendment, in which this violates. This also poses another question, which God would you want to be in school, considering there are about 2,870 recorded deities. What if the God you think should be in school, isn't the same God someone else believes should be in our schools? Your kid will get up, his kid will get up, they'll all get up! It will be anarchy!!<br />
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I have a better solution to this non-sense. Stop blaming everyone else, because you're a shitty parent. You've blamed Marilyn Manson, Eminem and now teachers. Shouldn't things like, the knowledge of right and wrong, start at home? I really doubt that prayer in school and the pledge of allegiance missing the word "God" has anything to do with your kid being messed up in the head. It's not other people's responsibility to teach your children basic morals. Teachers are here to educate our children and the assumption is probably made, that the child already has an understanding of what is right and what is wrong. All the teacher needs to do is keep those understandings in check.<br />
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I wonder what would be said, if on the first day of school, little Johnny punches a kid squaw in the nuts? Is God not being allowed in schools, to blame, considering little Johnny has never been to school? Also, there are these places of worship, I think they call them churches? If you want your kid to pray, I hear those are the best places for that! Who knew!? Unlike the public school system, they pride themselves in teaching the word of God. That is literally all they do there. I know, crazy, right?! Why would you want your kid to be taught such an important subject, by someone who might not even believe in God, and probably still listens to Phish, when you can take them directly to an expert and let them do your job as a parent, for you! Then, when little Johnny winds up in jail, you can blame the so-called "experts" and not some poor teacher who had the crazy idea that reading, writing and arithmetic would be slightly more beneficial to a child, than the bible.<br />
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Behavior starts at HOME, long before children are in school and long before they even know the constitution and Pledge of Allegiance. I also suppose that people that want God in the classroom, were taking their children to church, long before they took them to school. The values you teach, will carry over with them, into school and the rest of their life. God is not the glue that holds this country together. We are far too diverse. Let faith be the glue that holds YOUR family together, and practice it, in your own home and in your own church. You probably wouldn't appreciate it, if my kid was at your church, stood up and started pointing out all the discrepancies found in the bible. Well, I wouldn't appreciate your kid standing up during science class and pointing out statements from the bible to try and discredit science.<br />
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You don't need God, to be good. You just need parents that actually want to invest time in their child.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-5477376328527725742012-07-13T14:38:00.000-07:002012-07-13T14:38:48.463-07:005 Excuses We Make For Doing Terrible Things<span style="font-size: large;">I did not write this, John Cheese on cracked.com did, but I think that EVERYONE needs to read this! It's pretty damn funny with a whole lot of truth:</span><br /><br />I grew up in an atmosphere where being a dickhead was currency. The more of a douchebag you were, the more people feared and respected you. The more people feared and respected you, the more things ran the way you wanted them to. For instance, I once watched my dad throw a fully decorated Christmas tree off of a second story balcony because he wanted an angel on top instead of a star. When we finished cleaning up the mess, replacing shattered bulbs and buying a new tree, he got his angel. When you've been taught those lessons from birth, they're as much a part of you as your skin, and shedding either is exactly as difficult.<br /><br />But I'm trying. And the more I try, the more I'm seeing these little common bullshit ways we all try to justify our asshole side. Even if these examples don't describe you, tell me you can't name someone right off the top of your head who says things like ...<br /><br /><h4>
#5. "Who Gives a Shit What They Think?"</h4>
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<b>Also Known As ...</b></h3>
<br />"What the hell does he know about dancing anyway?" and "No one asked for your opinion." <br /><br />What I've found is that we never use these phrases when compliments are involved. You only hear it when someone is saying something insulting or disagreeable. "He said my painting sucked? Fuck him. I don't care about what he thinks." But you never hear someone say "He thinks my painting is great? Well, he can just suck my dick. When he can paint something of equal quality, he can tell me my work is good." <br /><br />This situation occurs when someone attempts to supply criticism or feedback on us or something we've worked on, and we shut them down by dismissing their opinions. Your boss tells you that your fries are too salty and that you need to cut back on your swearing in front of the customers. You bite your lip until he leaves and then mumble to yourself, "Bullshit. How the hell would that cock know? He just sits on his ass in that office all day. Who gives a shit what he has to say? I'll slit his fucking throat and bathe in his essence." Then you look up to see three of your co-workers caught in mid "fight or flight" mode. <br /><br /><div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">"If you don't turn your eyes in the other direction, you're going to make the decision for me." </span> </span></td></tr>
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But you find this everywhere, not just at work. Your spouse didn't like the meal you made, so you tell him, "I don't ever see you cooking, so I'm not really concerned with whether you liked it or not. You can make your own next time." Or a friend makes fun of your pile of shit car, and you respond with "Tell you what, you get your own car, and then you can give me shit about mine. At least I have one." <br /><br />Mine comes in the form of feedback on my writing. Regular readers know that I don't read the comments section. Irregular readers ... probably don't know who I am. Um ... I'm John. Hi. I don't read the comments section. The first time I told people that, the commenters took great offense and went waaaaay out of their way to find different means to message me and sling rage-fueled insults. But I think the reason the emotionally stable ones took offense is because by ignoring their feedback, I'm telling them, "What you say doesn't matter, and therefore you don't matter." <br /><br />People want to feel like what they say has worth. Hell, I bank my entire career on that idea. The day my writing no longer has perceived worth is the day I stop being paid to weave jokes about buttholes into dark subject matter like abuse. But my top go-to excuse for not reading the comments section has always been the same as the fry cook who blew off his boss: "I don't give a shit what they have to say." And let's face it, that's a cop-out. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<br />Does realizing that mean I'm going to start reading the comments section? Nope. Does it mean I'm going to start taking writing advice from people who aren't my direct peers? Not a chance. What I'm saying is that it's not about modifying your work or actions based on the opinion and feedback of others. It's about recognizing that whether you agree or disagree with them, the opinions of others do in fact matter. <br /><br /><h3>
Why That's Dangerous</h3>
<br />What you do and say affects the moods of others -- they're not just words. Saying otherwise is just another cop-out. Up until a few years ago, I was absolutely horrible to people on the Net. I'd tell them their work sucked or flat out call them bullshit names like "fucking retard" when they said something I didn't agree with. As you can predict, it always ended up with them exploding in rage back at me, which in turn made me explode in rage right back at them, until it was just one big, wet ball of steaming shit. My day was ruined, and there was a pretty good chance that theirs was, too. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Hi, I'm Candy, and I'll be your server today. Our specials are- OK, then, I'll just come back when you're a little less cranky."</span>
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The same would have held true in reverse if I'd sent them an email telling them how much I loved their work, attaching a picture of my balls with a happy face drawn on. It makes them feel good, which in turn makes me feel good. In both cases, my opinions actually affected someone else because I felt the need to vocalize them. Taking the negative version of that and dismissing someone's opinion as worthless is just a safety net, set up to protect us from criticism. I totally understand why people do it: Nobody likes to have their faults pointed out by others, even if they're only faults in a subjective sense, in the mind of the critic. But that still doesn't make it any less bullshit. <br /><br />Because in doing that, we're setting ourselves up to believe "Nothing I do is wrong. Anyone who disagrees is just stupid." That's what I've been doing for most of my life, and it's as wrong as a Fred Durst sex video. Cutting that infection out of my life will make me a better person, but I swear it's like quitting heroin while living in a town that's made of heroin. And you're a creature that survives solely on the nutrients that only heroin provides. <br /><br />Of course, I could always apologize to the comments section people for blowing them off, but ... <br /> <br /><h4>
#4. "If They're Not Apologizing, Then Neither Am I!" </h4>
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Also Known As ...</h3>
<br />"I'm not doing any more chores until one of these people gets off their ass and helps" and "If that's going to be your attitude, we just won't go out at all!" <br /><br />I hear the latter example all the time, and I've used it enough times in the past, myself, to be considered mentally unstable. It's a complete overreaction to a very common situation in which the other person just isn't as into something as we are. For instance, we plan a surprise vacation to Vegas, but the other person doesn't like big cities, hates gambling and doesn't get into stage shows. It sucks because we think we're doing something awesome, not just for ourselves, but for the others going with us. <br /><br />When the others aren't doing back flips upon hearing the surprise, we take offense, thinking they aren't appreciative. So we whip out that passive-aggressive move to show our frustration, and in a more subtle way, guilt the person into at least pretending to enjoy our idea of taking grandpa out to legally fuck strippers.<br /> <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">"I took out my teeth so I don't injure a nipple!" </span></span></td></tr>
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In an argument, it's more of a case of a power struggle. There's a feeling that whoever apologizes first is the weaker of the two. Like we're conceding defeat or "caving in" by saying we're sorry. Obviously, from a logical standpoint, we know that's a ridiculous notion, but when you're in the throes of anger, that seems to be the default frame of mind. And in that situation, the argument is still very much going on, even in silence. Instead of working it out with a discussion, we're using the silence as a weapon, refusing to give any ground until the other shows "weakness" and gives up their ground. <br /><br />Once they finally cave and apologize, then we can safely respond with the same. It's a case of "Well, as long as you're doing it, I suppose I should, too. But it's about time you realized I was right." <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Here, I bought you this fuckin' thing. Now bend over." </span></span></td></tr>
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Why That's Dangerous</h3>
<br />In both of the situations that I described, it's allowing our own decisions and actions to be dictated by the decisions and actions of others. We're no longer operating out of initiative or being proactive. We're operating as a response ... a retort in physical form. We make it a case of someone farting in our face, forcing us to punch them in their asshole. <br /><br />Not doing chores until someone else jumps in and helps is a valid grievance, but more often than not, that ultimatum takes place inside our head instead of being tossed onto the table for discussion. It's the dog turd that we decide to leave on the floor, just to see how long it takes for someone else to clean it up. Then using that information as ammunition later down the line: <br /><br />"It's just like you to avoid this discussion, isn't it? Just like you avoided the dog turd for six weeks until someone else finally cleaned it up. And surprise, surprise, guess who that was?" By acting in response like that, we're taking all of the blame for a bad situation off of ourselves and placing it on the shoulders of those we're responding to. "I'm behaving this way because you made me." "I'm not canceling the vacation because I'm mean. I'm canceling it because you were acting like you were being forced to go at gunpoint, and I'm not going to be the person who makes you do things you don't want to do."<br /> <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">"And then I found out that we don't even have a dog!" </span></span></td></tr>
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<br />Our dickhead actions aren't our fault. It's theirs. But that's OK, because ... <br /> <br /><h4>
#3. "He'll Get Over It." </h4>
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<img src="http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/article/7/7/1/137771_v1.jpg" style="background-color: white;" /></div>
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<h3>
Also Known As ...</h3>
<br />"Man up, and stop being a pussy" and "Oh, I was only joking. Don't be so sensitive!" <br /><br />You can cherry pick examples of this from just about any setting. At work, it's a co-worker who just got her ass chewed out for coming in late the third time this week. She storms out of the boss' office, turns to you and starts unloading about how much of an unforgiving asshole he is. "Like he's never been late. Or had problems getting the kids off to school." And all you can tell her is "You know that's just how he is. Just get over it and get back to work." Or a housewife who just finished up the worst day of her life, dealing with an overly aggressive loan officer demanding money she doesn't have, then arguing with her angsty teenager about bullshit she could care less about, then having one hour to do four hours' worth of housework ... and she's already been up since 3 a.m. She just needs to unload the stress on a friend to get it off of her chest. But the second she starts, she hears, "You think that's bad? Girl, you got it easy. Let me tell you about my day!" <br /><br />This is the environment I grew up in. I'm not just picking on my parents here -- this was the train of thought that ran through every group of aunts, uncles and cousins in my entire family. When I was 8 years old, I dropped a piece of firewood on my hand and broke one of my fingers in three places. My mom's reaction was "Suck it up. Crying won't make it feel any better." My cousin once sat on a pair of scissors, jamming it about two inches into his ass cheek. When my aunt was cleaning the wound that obviously needed medical attention, she and his brothers were making jokes like "Oh, chill out -- it's just a cut. Bend over and take it like a man."<br /> <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/article/7/7/4/137774.jpg?v=1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Wait, you're talking about penis, aren't you?" </span></span></td></tr>
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<br />Neither parent in either situation was doing that because they hated us or were annoyed by our tears. They were trying to teach a pretty rough, very situational lesson: that there are some shitty things in life that can't be fixed on the spot. That sometimes you have to just grit your teeth and wait for the pain to go away all on its own. <br /><br />Or she was just really high and couldn't drive to the hospital until she sobered up. But you get the point -- there's a moral in there somewhere. <br /><br />As a dad, I've found myself doing this with my own kids, though not to that extreme, because I understand the basic principle of "If your child has broken bones or is bleeding profusely, get them to a hospital, you fucking dumbass." But there comes a point where they have to toughen up because it's not going to be long before they turn 18 and get released into the wild. They can't do that unprepared. So if one of them comes in crying because another kid was calling him names and making fun of him, that side of me automatically kicks in, and I find myself sometimes saying, "You'll live. They're just words. Go play." <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/article/7/7/6/137776_v1.jpg" style="background-color: white; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Oh, and tell him I said his dad is a dumb cunt. He'll respect that." </span></span></td></tr>
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<br />It's not just a kid thing, though. I've found myself thinking this about adults who come to me with problems. It's easy to look at someone who's in the throes of depression and think "What the fuck do you have to be sad about? You have a nice house, a car, food in the fridge ... you're living better than most people you know. Get over it, for Christ's sake, and stop feeling sorry for yourself." <br /><br /><h3>
Why That's Dangerous</h3>
<br />It's another case of completely blowing off someone else's very real feelings and very real problems, both mental and physical, so that you don't have to deal with it. By doing that, we're teaching both children and adults alike that problems vary in importance on a sliding scale, and those that don't rank high enough on the Worthy of Discussion chart should be bottled up. That they shouldn't bother us with such petty bullshit. <br /><br />We see this all the time in cases where we take a joke too far and offend someone. "Yeah, you would like this restaurant. Your fat ass likes every restaurant ... oh, come on, don't give me that look. You know I was just joking. Christ, you can't make any jokes around black people without them getting all huffy. Oh, what now?" <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/article/7/7/5/137775.jpg?v=1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Step off, I'm about to call the Bug Up Your Ass police!" </span></span></td></tr>
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<br />It's an excuse we make to avoid having to admit that we were wrong and just apologize. So just like the last example, it's a means of insulting someone and then blaming them for being offended. How fucked up is that? <br /> <br /><h4>
#2. "I Wasn't Really Trying, LOL!" </h4>
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<h3>
Also Known As ...</h3>
<br />"Oh, these old rags? It's just some old clothes I threw together" and "You like my crappy drawing? It's just something I farted out in an hour." <br /><br />This one is so subtle that if we didn't devote any serious thought or analysis to it, it would slip right by most of us, completely unnoticed. It normally only gets a surface glance because it comes across as very innocent and forgettable. The reason is because it sounds like we're just being gracious for the compliment, but we're also being humble in accepting it, saying that we didn't intend for the target of the praise to be anything special. We weren't striving for glory -- we were just going about our daily lives when this thing that you liked happened to fall out of our ass along the way. <br /><br />But that's actually where the problem lies. What we're actually saying, even if it's only on a subconscious level, is that this thing that the other person liked -- the thing that they thought was good enough to give us vocal praise -- came out that awesome with virtually no effort on our part. So if that was created while we were just half-assed dicking around, imagine what we could do if we really put in the time and effort!<br /> <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/article/7/8/1/137781_v1.jpg" style="background-color: white; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Man, I could headline packed, standing-room-only venues!" </span></span></td></tr>
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<br />"You can't even fathom the amount of pure, untapped talent that I have bottled up inside of me. If I ever choose to unleash it, the world will never be the same." <br /><br /><h3>
Why That's Dangerous</h3>
<br />It's a means of setting up yet another safety net that prevents us from committing to a full-on effort of any sort for any project. Rejection sucks, and in any profession or classroom, it is absolutely going to happen. In the gritty, real adult world, there is no such thing as someone pitching a perfect game. We are going to eventually have an off day, or accidentally over-season a dish, or sing a bad note, or ejaculate too early on our porn set ... any one of a billion reasons for putting out subpar work. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/article/7/8/0/137780_v1.jpg" style="background-color: white; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Google was down ... </span></span></td></tr>
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<br />We're human, and that's a hard bitch of a reality to admit. That faults are expected of everyone because they are as unavoidable as a boner at the Tomb Raider booth at Comic-Con. But for many people, that rejection, or even the idea of having to face failure, is unbearable, so we insinuate a wealth of hidden talent that we're just too humble to display. <br /><br />So now, if we actually do try but happen to put out something shitty, that same fallback line is right there for easy use: "You don't like it? Oh, that's totally understandable and expected. I barely even put any thought or effort into it. It's just a throwaway thing I did for shits and giggles and not worthy of judgment." It's a near perfect means of avoiding ownership of failure, and that's not good for anyone who plans on getting better at their craft or just growing as a person. We all have to be able to step back, accept those occasional shortcomings and learn what kung fu style we need to use in order to kick their ass. To recognize them for what they are and say "What can I do to eliminate those mistakes on the next project?" <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/article/7/8/2/137782.jpg?v=1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Get a better phone? </span></span></td></tr>
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There are people out there who get so deeply rooted into this type of thinking that they sabotage entire school careers with it. Doing everything half-assed because the idea of failing is so horrifying, they can't allow themselves to be put into that position. It's better to be putting out average work with flippant attempts than to put your entire heart into a project and have it crushed with a bad review. <br /> <br /><h4>
#1. "I'm an Asshole, and I'm Proud of It!" </h4>
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<h3>
Also Known As ...</h3>
<br />"I don't take shit from anyone" and "I say what I want. If other people can't handle the truth, they can fuck off!" <br /><br />I've known soooo many people like this. The Internet is saturated with them. And let's get this straight right off the bat: It is NOT the same as "I speak my mind" or "I'm opinionated." Huge difference. Being opinionated or outspoken is a perfectly legitimate personality type, even if it's annoying to some people. What I'm talking about is the needlessly aggressive bullshit where a person tries to justify being an asshole by wearing it as a badge of honor. Guys who say, "Yeah, I know I'm a dick -- who cares?" Using it as a sign of toughness and strength. Or girls who hold up "I'm a bitch" as a false torch, confusing it for "strong" and "independent." <br /><br />People treat it as if it were a heightened level of dominance that others should strive to achieve. It is not. It's being combative, purely out of a love for confrontation. There's a rush a person feels when they verbally beat down someone else and make them concede their point of view. What that person doesn't realize is that most of the time, the only reason the other person is backing down is because it's the closest exit from the conversation and the annoying mouth that it's escaping.<br /> <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/article/7/6/5/137765_v1.jpg" style="background-color: white; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">"You're such a dumbass, thinking you could have a political debate with a guy like me. Stupid." </span></span></td></tr>
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<br />I don't know who decided that this is a desirable personality type, but it seems to me that the only people who honestly think that are the ones who are that way. In reality, it's a coward's means of not owning up to the fact that they never learned how to speak to or respect another human. A way of covering up the fact that they never learned lessons that the rest of us learned at age 8. <br /><br />The sad part is that this is an extremely easy frame of mind to fall into because every conversation turns into a competition, and the reward for "winning" is feeling like the world's smartest badass. It's walking in, thinking you're Dwayne Johnson: <br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<img src="http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/article/7/6/6/137766.jpg?v=1" style="background-color: white;" /></div>
<br />And walking out feeling like the Rock: <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/article/7/6/7/137767_v1.jpg" style="background-color: white; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Seriously, do you smell what I'm cookin'? Or are you just pretending to get a whiff?" </span></span></td></tr>
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<br /><h3>
Why That's Dangerous</h3>
<br />Once you fall into that pattern of communication, it's virtually impossible to concede anything to anyone in almost any situation. Not just the people you're comfortable with, like family and friends, but people of actual authority, like bosses, police officers and the government agency tasked with greenlighting your methods of curing homosexuality. <br /><br />Once "I'm a badass whose will can never be bent" sets in, you've actively placed yourself in a position where, in your mind, you are always right, and nobody can convince you otherwise. The real trap is that we've created a culture that promotes this as a lovable, quirky character, rather than a festering, infected pus sack of a human. Dr. House is a classic example. Dwight from The Office. Bender from The Breakfast Club. Han Solo. The list is miles long.<br /> <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i.crackedcdn.com/phpimages/article/7/6/8/137768_v1.jpg" style="background-color: white; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">That guy. </span></span></td></tr>
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<br />In real life, it's hard for anyone to stand beside you when you need them because you're such an inexcusable prick that you've created a world where people prefer that a catastrophe keeps you away from them. Instead of extending a hand to help you up, they picture extending a foot to crush your windpipe. <br /><br />But you don't care -- you're an asshole, and you're proud of it. Fuck anyone who doesn't agree with your attitude. They just can't handle how edgy you are.<div>
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</div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-5810944313681067932012-05-26T01:27:00.004-07:002012-05-26T01:27:38.552-07:00The Truth About Cats and Dog……People<br />
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I never had a cat until I was about 18 years old. We had always been a dog family, since my grandfather was never really a “cat person”. After he passed away we got our first cat, Ruby. From there, our house has seen numerous cats. I had always considered myself a “dog person”, and even once we had the cats, I still never considered myself a “cat person”. The cats never really cared for me and I never really cared for them, until I got <span data-mce-style="text-decoration: underline;" style="text-decoration: underline;">my</span> first cat. I was 21 and had just gotten my first apartment when I found Wendy. She was a stray cat living next door to my work; she was black and white, filthy, and sweet. I would feed her chicken everyday that I bought off the roach coach, until I decided that I couldn’t keep letting her live this way and I was going to bring her home with me. She even taught herself to use the toilet (she couldn’t flush it, the whole “no opposable thumbs” issue). I had her for 10 years until she passed away from kidney failure. While I love the cats I have now, it’s sort of like your first love, you’ll never forget your first pet and no other pet will ever compare. From that cat forward, I had officially become a “cat person” and there was no looking back.</div>
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Ever since becoming a “cat person” I’ve learned that there is the controversy, so to speak, about women having cats. Having just acquired my third cat, I have heard the term “crazy cat lady” being thrown about freely in my direction. Having rescued all of my cats, I feel that if these were rescued dogs, it would be looked at in a slightly better light. Don’t get me wrong there are some “crazy cat lady” women out there, I am however not one of them. I don’t have 15 cats, I don’t have tacky cat sweaters, I don’t have kitschy cat figurines everywhere in my home, and I do not subject my cats to wearing homemade knitted sweaters. In my opinion there are way more crazy dog people out there, than there are crazy cat people. My animals are not my children, but in fact animals. I do not refer to them as my “children”. I find far more dog people do that than cat people. Have you ever gone on pet websites? The crap they have for dogs is unbelievable. I feel like I need to do the “Really?!?” skit from Saturday Night Live. Baby strollers to walk your dog in? Really?!? Polo shirts for a dog? Really?!? A dog doesn’t mind walking, I’m actually sure they would prefer it. I’m almost absolutely certain that when a dog see’s another dog wearing a polo shirt, he doesn’t get jealous and wishes he had a collar to pop. They are animals, let them be animals. How would people like it if one day their mom decided they should start walking on all fours on a leash, or start making them eat and drink out of a bowl? It’s just not how nature intended it.</div>
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There are many reasons that I’ve heard for why people do not like cats. I’ve heard that people do not like cats and are not sure why, but subconsciously it’s because they have no eyebrows and therefore show no emotion. Also people that are allergic to cats say they do not like them. This one boggles me slightly because it’s not really the cat’s fault that they’re allergic. Then there is the common one of people not liking cats because they’re scared of getting scratched. This one is understandable, some cats can be real assholes. Cat’s are extremely independent and really could take you or leave you. If you weren’t the one supplying the food, it would most likely be the latter.</div>
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This leads me to the theory I have on dog and cat people. This is my theory and in no way think that cat people are better than dog people, or vice versa, it’s just my theory on the different personalities of the two. I’ll rip the band aid off quick and start with dog people. Dogs are needy and are constantly vying for your love and attention. Dog people eat that up like thanksgiving dinner. They like the reassurance and enjoy getting rewarded for what they do for their dog. They themselves are slightly needy. They like the fact that someone is waiting by the door for them when they get home. Cats on the other hand are more independent. They could care less about you and when they feel like being around you they will and if they don’t they will let you know. When you come home you can probably bet the cat is thinking, “Oh. It’s you. Are you going to feed me or what?”. Cat people, like cat’s themselves are more independent also. They don’t need the reassurance that their pet loves them, they get pure satisfaction taking care of an animal whether or not that animal shows their appreciation. I once had a guy argue this theory with me. He said I was wrong and when I asked “fine, then why do you not like cats?” he responded with “well when I feed the cat, he could care less, he doesn’t even seem to appreciate the fact that I just gave him food!”. So I brought up the fact that he just supported my theory, and then stated that didn’t he think that was slightly needy to have to get that reassurance that he did a good thing (and also slightly arrogant)? I’ve always have an appreciation for a guy who has a cat, to me it’s slightly more masculine, and what can I say, there’s nothing wrong with a guy who loves pussy…..cats.</div>
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What kind of crazy cat lady would I be if I didn't include pictures of my cats!!</div>
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<a data-mce-href="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/mail.jpg" href="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/mail.jpg"><img alt="" data-mce-src="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/mail.jpg?w=300" height="224" src="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/mail.jpg?w=300" style="border: 0px; cursor: default;" title="Lucy & Jezebelle" width="300" /></a><a data-mce-href="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/66483_459640699624_554049624_4985480_5835959_n.jpg" href="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/66483_459640699624_554049624_4985480_5835959_n.jpg"><img alt="" class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-12" data-mce-src="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/66483_459640699624_554049624_4985480_5835959_n.jpg?w=300" height="224" src="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/66483_459640699624_554049624_4985480_5835959_n.jpg?w=300" style="border: 0px; cursor: default;" title="Leon" width="300" /></a></div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-75331929942485755242012-05-26T01:26:00.003-07:002012-05-26T01:26:37.309-07:00The British Are Coming!!<br />
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Music is like love, you can’t live without it. Music touches souls, evokes feelings and memories. With just a few notes you can be taken back to a time and place in the past like it was only yesterday. Artists have a way of putting feelings and thoughts in a way you never knew was possible, and for this I will be forever grateful. However, when it comes to artists and the talents they possess, there are still a few things that I just don’t quite understand. Call me a music snob if you will, it’s ok, it’s true.</div>
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Being raised by my Grandparents, I didn’t have the same musical influences as most people my age. I was brought up listening to Kenny Rogers, Hank Williams, Dolly Parton and Willy Nelson. Around 6 years old is my first memory of listening to Punk Rock. I was sitting in the backseat of our car while my Grandma and cousin rode up front. We were probably driving home from the mall or some sort of shopping excursion, when I suddenly became parched. I told my Grandma that I was thirsty and if we could please stop and get something to drink. After arguing back and forth about how I could wait until we got home, I decided the only way I could express myself at that moment was to yell out “All I wanted was a Pepsi, just one Pepsi, and she wouldn’t give it to me, just one Pepsi!”. Imagine walking up to a sweet (looking) little 6 year old girl and saying “What is your favorite band?” and the response you get is “Suicidal Tendencies”, probably not the answer that guy was expecting when he asked me that. I’ve been a music rebel ever since.</div>
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My biggest issue/misunderstanding when it comes to music is The Beatles. I don’t get it; never have, not sure if I ever will. It wasn’t until about 4 years ago that I came to have at least an appreciation for their music, and that alone took 29 years. I’ll admit that part of my dislike towards The Beatles is that everyone else liked them. Part of this still is true. It’s not really the fact that everyone likes them, but it’s the way people talk about them that really gets me. They use words like timeless, revolutionary, legends, innovative, brilliant, and the list goes on and on. This is what I do understand and purely because facts are facts. They have withstood the test of time, they are legendary, and they undoubtedly are the greatest band that ever was. But why? I have yet to meet anyone who can convince me why they are all of these things. I think it bothers me that people use these words to describe them and when I ask them why they feel this way, the answer is so generic, “because they’re amazing songwriters”, well, what makes their songs so amazing? To me they are just average songs, nothing I have found spectacular, good, but not spectacular. I feel if you are going to make a statement like this, you should be able to tell me what makes them stand out from everyone else. Is it because this is what your parents said? The media? The critics? Why do YOU find them revolutionary? I want specifics, not just blanketed statements that everyone says about them. A big part of me honestly feels that people think this way about The Beatles because they are supposed to. I mean everyone else feels this way, a million people can’t be wrong…right?</div>
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When I hear The Beatles, I hear another pop band. What was the craze, and what is it about them that it has lasted this long. I’ve tried to break it down in my head and really try and figure out what it is that makes this band such a phenomenon. I have had endless conversations about them with very convincing and passionate people and I still don’t get it. The Beatles had their first hit in 1962. While Elvis and Chuck Berry (who in my eyes is the Pioneer of Rock N’ Roll), had their first hits in 1955. So it can’t be that the Beatles brought rock n’ roll to America, it was already here. Granted it they might have brought a different style, but was it that far off the course of what we already had? I don’t think so. Then I think about the image they brought, but again back to Elvis and Chuck Berry with their pelvic thrusts and “raunchy” lyrics, the Beatles looked like altar boys compared to them. Is it purely the whole “British Invasion” idea? In that time the UK was trying to duplicate our style of Rock N’ Roll, but America had never really had a taste of what the UK had to offer. To me, it’s like Michael Jackson, Madonna, and Lady Gaga. They all brought something new to the table, image wise. The music they put out is nothing special, but their look is. It’s edgy, it’s something people have never seen before, but what is it about their music that makes them so special? Is it that people feel that their look is so revolutionary that surely their music must be too? Catchy, yes, but revolutionary? Were/are people so desperate for something new and different that they will buy into anything that is put in front of them? “I listen to Lady Gaga, I’m so edgy”, her lyrics are not edgy at all! Was it the same with the Beatles?</div>
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Let’s talk lyrics. The Beatles first number one in America was “Love Me Do”. How simple is this song! Personally I believe that music is the universal language, but was the Beatles lyrics so simple that it made it even that more universal? “And please say to me/you’ll let me hold your hand/you’ll let me hold your hand/I want to hold your hand”, who cannot relate to that?? No one!! Boom Beatles! You did it! You wrote the most basic love song ever! I will give you a hand for that! But brilliant? Innovative? Maybe it is brilliant that they were the first ones to think of something so simple, but I’m not buying that. I will admit that while I say all this, I have not listened to all of their records. I would probably say my two favorite are Beatles for Sale and Abbey Road. When I say favorite, I use that term loosely. I have listened to one of their other records from later in their career, when they were obviously influenced by drugs or a way out of their record contract, it’s hard to say. I listened to a song that said “Number 9” over and over and over again. Now I ask you, revolutionary? (and for those who know me, no I will not get past that song, it was stupid dumb).</div>
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In my opinion, to be revolutionary, you need to be a game changer. Did the Beatles change the game or just influence a game that was already being played. When I say game changer the first band that comes to mind is Nirvana. For the record, I am not a fan of Nirvana, never was, so I would think this opinion is a little unbiased. Nirvana was a game changer. They put an end to an era with one song. I think if you listened closely when “Smells like Teen Spirit” was first played, you could hear the spandex industry weeping. They changed music, they changed fashion. It went from bands looking like they were drag queens to bands that if you didn’t know were a band, you might think they were homeless. Kurt Cobain was revolutionary. Will I say lyrically he was brilliant or as a musician was he brilliant? No. Like I said, I’m not a fan, but he brought something to the table that no one had. I don’t see how the Beatles were game changers.</div>
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I have nothing but respect for the Beatles, but obviously I’m missing something because when a band can’t even be heard over the screaming of the crowd and when after 48 years you are still revered as the greatest Rock N’ Roll band that ever existed, you must have done something right.</div>
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And for the record, George Harrison was the best Beatle. I mean look at him, he looks like Jesus!</div>
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<a data-mce-href="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/george_harrison_main1.jpg" href="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/george_harrison_main1.jpg"><img alt="" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-20" data-mce-src="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/george_harrison_main1.jpg" height="300" src="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/george_harrison_main1.jpg" style="border: 0px; cursor: default;" title="george_harrison_main" width="300" /></a></div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-77822581121827678732012-05-26T01:25:00.002-07:002012-05-26T01:25:42.215-07:00Daddy's Little Girl?<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was born in Granada Hills, in 1977 to my parents Tom and Teri. I lived with them for the first year of my life. The story I am told is that my mom worked days and my dad worked nights. My Grandpa would come over in the morning while my Dad was still sleeping and take me home with him. He retired at 45, so he had all the time in the world to care for me. Things weren’t so pleasant in the household, so I’m told, so I went to stay with my Grandparents. My parents divorced and it was decided that I would just continue to live my Grandparents from then on.
I was blessed to be raised by people who honestly, truly to the bottom of their souls had my best interests in mind. During my birthday or holiday’s my Mom and Dad would come together, and there was never an ounce of anger or resentment between them, at least none that I never saw. I know it couldn’t have been terribly easy on my mom, but she sucked it up for my sake. My dad had issues with addiction that over the course of my life would bring him in and out of it for years at a time, the longest span being 10 years. I was raised by my Mom’s parents, so you would think they would have had resentment towards my Dad and what he did to my Mom and I, but every time my Dad would flake on me or disappear, the only story I would ever get is, that my Dad loved me, he just had some problems of his own that he had to work out and that it had nothing to do with me. I never grew up angry with my Dad for not being there, and plus I had my Grandpa, so I was never lacking a father figure, until my Grandpa passed away when I was 17.
I guess I should rephrase that last sentence, I have never been angry with my Dad, up until now. I was at a wedding the other day, and the dance for the bride and her father came on and it was to the song “I Loved Her First”. I had never heard the song before, and the words were very touching and made me a little misty eyed, until my friend said “I hope my Dad picks this song for us to do our dance to”. Then it hit me. If I ever get married, I don’t have a Dad to walk me down the aisle or to dance a father/daughter dance with. The tears started spilling over. I don’t know if I was crying because I was sad that my Grandpa isn’t around to do those things or because my own father doesn’t care to be part of my life enough for me to want him to do those things for me. Maybe I was crying for both. It got me thinking about my dad and all the crap that he has done to me throughout my life.
When I was a little girl, he would come and pick me up on the weekends, not every weekend, just random weekends when he would decide he wanted to spend time with me. He would take me to the movies or to play miniature golf and I would spend the night at his house. He would take me home and tell me that he would pick me up next weekend and we would do whatever it was we didn’t get to do that weekend. He would tell my Grandparents that he would pick me up Friday night at 6pm. Friday night would come and it would start getting close to 6pm and I would wait in the front room of our house and look out the window that faced the street and wait to see him pull up. Then 7pm would come and still nothing. Then 8pm would come and still nothing. It was usually about 2 hours after the time he said he would be there that I would get the phone call from him saying he wasn’t going to be able to make it. I don’t remember ever feeling disappointed, but being 6 years old thinking my dad is going to pick me and we’re going to do this fun thing, I doubt I couldn’t help but feel that way. After this phone call it would usually be a few years before I would ever hear from him again.
Then I would make the phone call to my other Grandma on my Dad’s side. Every time I would call, I would get the same question, “Have you heard from your dad?” the answer would always be the same, “no”. Then came the part that I never quite understood, she would tell me how I really needed to call him and that I should try and find out where he is. I never quite got why it was my job to do that. I had been in the same place with the same number for 8 years. I did what she said though, as she was an adult, and probably knew better than I did only being 8 years old. I distinctly remember that first phone call I made after his first disappearance for two years. I called the only number I had for him, and he was there. When he got on the phone and realized it was me, you could hear the stammering and embarrassment in his voice. I knew he was looking for reasons and excuses to give me, but being so young and naïve, I didn’t expect them. I was just calling to say hi, I didn’t care about any reasons he had for not seeing me for 2 years, in fact the likeliness that I even missed him in my life was very little. I only thought to call him because Grandma had told me too. He said he wanted to see me, and in fact did come see me. He had grown his hair long and had a big scratchy beard, and I remember telling him, not to come back till he cleaned himself up. He never came back.
The next time I would see my Dad was when I was fourteen years old. I can’t recall how he came back into my life then, but he did. He took me to my freshman year father/daughter dance and again sophomore year. He stayed in my life until I was fifteen years old, and then again, the promises of picking me up with a two hour late phone call cancelling. By this time I was over it. I wasn’t angry and I wasn’t sad, I was just so used to him not being in my life that I didn’t notice anything missing. As I got older more details of what was going on started coming out. I found out my father was an alcoholic, and thinking about it now, that probably wasn’t the only problem. My Grandparents still told me the same thing, but with a little more honesty in it. My dad loved me, but he has problems, and he probably loves me enough and cares enough to keep me away from them. I still didn’t need a reason, I didn’t care enough too.
About 8 years later I went to visit my Grandma (his mom), and my Aunt (his sister). I was 24 years old. I don’t really think that I was angry, but just felt like I should be, because even though he had no affect on my life whatsoever, he still did wrong and deserved punishment. I was sitting in a restaurant with my Aunt, and I told her that I did not care to ever see my dad again. If someone were to call me tomorrow and tell me he was dead, I probably wouldn’t care much, because what am I losing? Something I never had to begin with? I said that I hoped he didn’t come back into my life until after I had gotten married and had children so he could see what he had missed. I wanted him to feel the regret of what he had did to me. I wanted to tell him how I got married and he was not the one to walk me down the aisle, how I had had children, but he was not one of the first ones to hold them. I felt that was the ultimate revenge. My Aunt, being the good soul she is, said some things that now I can’t remember, but changed my mind for the way I felt about my Dad. I started feeling like what was the point of this negative energy? Does it really get me anywhere? Does it turn back the hands of time and change anything that happened? No it doesn’t and I waste my precious time on something that doesn’t really matter that much to me in the first place.
This same year my Grandma on his side passed away. My Aunt had said that she contacted my dad and that he was also there. I think that made my reason for not going even stronger. I wasn’t afraid to see him and it wasn’t that I didn’t want to see him; it was just that I didn’t know what to say to him when I did. It would be awkward and uncomfortable and I just didn’t want to deal with that. She told me that out of the past 10 years that he had been absent from my life, the last 5 he had been sober. It annoyed me that all these years the excuse for him being away was his “problems”, but for the past 5 years he supposedly didn’t have any problems. What was his excuse? I still was at the same house, with the same phone number that I had been at for 24 years. Still being in my forgiving state of mind, I put all this aside. I told my Aunt he could contact me.
When he finally did, we met at Denny’s and I remember feeling so awkward, it wasn’t even funny. Imagine going to meet some guy who you barely know, who is way more excited to see you than you are him, and you’re not quite sure what to even talk about. He sits across the table from me and holds my hands and just stares at me. I felt like I was holding a strangers hands and being stared at by some strange guy who I didn’t know. He wanted to explain to me what had happened all these years and why he wasn’t around. I told him, it doesn’t matter; the past is the past and let’s just move forward with our lives. We did this for about 3 years.
3 years ago I called him and left him a message on his phone, and he still has not returned my call. I have decided I’m done. Why do I keep giving this man a chance? I use the term “man” very, very loosely, because he obviously isn’t. Why do I keep letting someone back into my life, who for almost all my life has worked jobs where he gets paid under the table to avoid having to pay for his child? Someone who is so selfish, he doesn’t even bother to find out if his daughter is well. I wonder if he even thinks of me on my birthday, or how he feels on Father’s Day. How long can addiction be an excuse? How can you bring a child into the world and just take off? Does he even think of the repercussions this would have on me? I have decided from this day forward that he is no longer welcome in my life. He has gotten too many get out of jail free cards and each time he takes them for granted. As far as I’m concerned I lost my father when I was 17 years old, when my Grandpa passed.
To the people who have been in my life and been unfaltering, you deserve a special thank you from the bottom of my heart. To my Grandfather who even though was retired, gave that up to raise me and give me the life I have and made me the person I am today. No amount of words could ever express how grateful I am for him, and how lucky I was to have him. To Aja’s dad, Jeff, who not only stepped in to be a father figure for her after her dad took off, but was integral in keeping me on track during my teen years after my Grandfather had passed. He had no children of his own, but had to deal with two wild teenage girls, and he did a fantastic job doing it. And last but not least my stepdad Milton, who didn’t have the pleasure of having to deal with me, but puts up with my sister’s crap on a daily basis, with a smile on his face…for the most part. These men are real men, and stepped in and took care of children like they were their own without batting an eye. The world is absolutely a better place with men like these.
</span>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-2754881146902755272012-05-26T01:24:00.003-07:002012-05-26T01:24:29.661-07:00Love Thy Neighbor! (neighbor must meet certain criteria first)<br />
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Every morning you wake up and you go to your closet and you try and decide what you are going to wear that day. It’s a choice, it’s a decision, you can wear any outfit you want to wear, but do we really have a choice of how we come out of the closet? I can sit here and repeat the standard arguments that are made over and over again, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.</div>
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My number one favorite statement that I hear all the time is that it’s a choice. When I hear that, I immediately have to ask the person, “Ok, if that’s the case, how old were you when you chose to be straight?” Usually the response I get is “I just always knew”. According to their reasoning at a certain age we all found ourselves both attracted to males and females and we had to sit and think about which one we liked more, because we have that choice, right? But the people who think it is a choice just “always” knew they were straight, because they can never seem to give me an age. However, luckily for gay people, they were given the choice! So if God really hates gay people, why did he give them the choice and not straight people? I think I’d rather have the option to decide for myself than have someone choose for me. I mean variety is the spice of life!</div>
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Also, if it is a choice, do you think anyone would choose this? I personally don’t think if I had the option to possibly live a life of shame and ridicule or a life pretty much accepted by all, I would choose a life of shame and ridicule. It’s absurd to me that people actually think people would choose this life. I doubt the 7 or more CHILDREN who committed suicide this year would have chosen this for themselves. I think there is a mix up between confusion and decision. I don’t think gay people choose to be gay, however they come to a point in their life where they feel they should be attracted to the opposite sex, because that’s what is “normal” and “acceptable”, but they’re not and to anyone knowing the implications behind being gay, it has to be extremely hard on them. To wake up every morning wondering why you were made different? So to the people who think its wrong and a choice, if you have or when you have a child and he or she “decides” to be gay, I’m going to ask you, “Where did you go wrong?” Apparently you are a terrible parent and did not teach your child to make wise decisions. You should also go to the doctor to find out why such a good, god fearing person like yourself would have a defective child. Maybe God hates people that produce children who decide to be gay…did you ever think of that one? Just think, right now your child or your future child could be your one way ticket to hell!</div>
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So here comes the next argument. I have a feeling this one is going to get really touchy. I’m going to talk about the bible and religion now. If you do not have an open mind, you might want to just stop reading now. I personally love religion, I’m fascinated by it. If you have faith in something and are a better person because of it, more power to you!! I do not judge because, who knows what’s right? No one can say for sure. Until the day we die and we meet our maker, no one can say with certainty. However, I was raised Catholic, I am now agnostic, but since people want to use religion as an argument, heck, I will too!</div>
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First thing, the most stolen book in the world, the Bible. Very Christian of those thieves I might add. I hope the people are stealing it to turn their lives around, and the last thing they said was “God, if you let me get away with this, it will be the last thing I steal I swear!”, and if they did get away with it, I hope they did turn their lives around. If they didn’t, they should have really read the eighth commandment before stealing the bible, wait, maybe that’s why they were….I digress. The bible says being gay is wrong. I think I could sit down and write a book of rules, saying I was inspired by a being, and that I know his only son, we eat fish and bread together on a regular basis, and you should see what he can do with blood!! I mean that’s all it is right? Yet, people take everything this book says to heart, or do they? I am absolutely fascinated with the people who like to say “well the bible says this, and the bible says that”, the bible says a lot of things, and I can almost guarantee you, the people who say this, only follow what the bible says to their own satisfaction. For instance, I know quite a few men who think being gay is wrong, it’s awful, it’s disgusting!! Why do they think it’s wrong? Because the bible says so, that’s not how God intended us! Well for those of you who feel the same way (especially the fella’s) here’s some information you might find interesting. Did you know that in the bible it says that oral and anal sex is against God’s law because those are homosexual acts? How many of these people that say “well the bible says this”, have performed those acts before? How many guys who think being gay is wrong because of the bible, go home and beg their wives or girlfriends (which is even worse because God does not like premarital sex either) for a blow job or some back door action? Ladies, you can thank me later, but guys, you can cross those things off your list, because if you don’t like gays because god doesn’t, then you can’t like blow jobs anymore either. He also doesn’t approve of masturbating and sex if it’s not leading to procreation. I wonder how many people don’t follow the bible on these rules, because, well, they like them, and since THEY are ok with it, they can bend the rules just a little bit. The bible says “Love thy Neighbor”, not “love thy neighbor, but only if they believe what you believe, if they don’t, then by all means, hate them!” I don’t believe the message Jesus was trying to promote was that of hate and violence. Just because YOU think it is wrong, doesn’t mean you’re right. You never know the bible could have been written to fool us all and actually gay is the right way and all of us straight people could very well be screwed! If everyone is made in God’s light, what makes them so different? We supposedly all came from the same rib, right?</div>
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There is only one way I can look at it. I know people who are devout Christians, and treat me very nicely. However, they rally against gay marriage, and judge people who are not like them, or not made in what they believe is God’s likeness. How can you say you are Christian, and at the same time promote hate? Then there are people who are pro-gay and promote hate against anti-gays. How does this make sense? Hate breeds hate, pure and simple. We are fortunate enough to live in a country where we can be free to disagree with others opinions and lifestyles, but we have to keep in mind to live and let live. If you want to be free to live your life as you choose, then you must allow others to live their life as they choose. When you hate a religion for being anti-gay marriage, for the simple fact that they do not like gays, what makes you any different? They hate you for what you are, so you do the same back to them? Hate is hate is hate is hate, no matter what good intentions are behind it. To everyone who believes strongly in something, they always have good intentions behind what they are fighting for, or they would not fight for it. Where does the cycle end? I believe a 100% wholeheartedly to stand up and defend what you believe in. But when your thinking becomes no different than the person you are fighting, you are going to get nowhere. Once again, live and let live. Don’t hate them because of their ignorance; feel sorry for them, that they don’t know any better. We were all programmed to believe in certain things, which are hard to change, just like they aren’t changing your mind anytime soon, you probably aren’t going to change their minds either, and hate is not going to help either of your causes. I’m not saying give up on something you believe in, but remember they are trying to do the same thing you are and a little respect of different beliefs can go a long way. Ignorance is a dead end road. It doesn’t hurt anyone to expand their minds and listen to another’s point of view. You never know, you might actually learn something you didn’t expect to.</div>
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<a data-mce-href="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/11/san-diego-gay-protest-2.jpg" href="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/11/san-diego-gay-protest-2.jpg"><img alt="" class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-38" data-mce-src="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/11/san-diego-gay-protest-2.jpg?w=300" height="225" src="http://brettina.files.wordpress.com/2010/11/san-diego-gay-protest-2.jpg?w=300" style="border: 0px; cursor: default;" title="san-diego-gay-protest-2" width="300" /></a></div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-4404262391653667622012-05-26T01:23:00.000-07:002012-05-26T01:23:19.276-07:00Perspective 101<br />
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Two weeks ago my boss’ parents were killed in a car accident. One of my co-workers said, “It really puts things in perspective, doesn’t it?” and it really did, but not in the way she meant it. It made me start thinking about my own family and how screwed up some of their perspectives are.</div>
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Almost a year ago to date, my Grandma made the decision to move into an assisted living home. I brought up the idea to her after she had been in and out of the hospital for problems with her pancreas. She was 91 and while I was starting to get worried about her living alone, she just wanted her cooking and cleaning done for her. A friend of mine warned me that this would cause problems in the family, and I thought “nah, that would be silly to cause problems over this, this is what she wants to do.” Man oh, man was I wrong.</div>
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One night in the midst of us researching and visiting communities, I log onto Facebook to find a post to my wall from my cousin’s wife. Not a private message, but a wall post for everyone to see telling me that I wasn’t doing the right research, I wasn’t looking into the horror stories of these places, I was being selfish and on and on and on. Keep in mind; I hadn’t even spoken with either of them for them to know what kind of research I was even doing. So anyway, I asked them to please stop airing our dirty laundry on my Facebook wall and that’s when the private messages started. It was pretty much them accusing me of forcing her to go into this home and that I was acting out of selfishness, that this should have been a family decision; apparently she can’t do this on her own. They pretty much just raked me over the coals. Then my cousin joins the mix, and being the level headed person she is, proceeds to tell me how stupid I am, how much she hates me and always has, I’m no longer her family. You know, stuff a normal right minded person usually says. When my Grandma confronted her about this, she screamed at her and my Grandma hung up on her. She then told me that because of me, she would never speak to my Grandma ever again.</div>
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Then there is my Aunt. She didn’t really like the idea of my Grandma going into one of those places, but was ok with it because it was what my Grandma wanted, until she found out one detail she never knew about. I was left the house in the will. Originally it was supposed to be split three ways between my Mom, Myself and my Aunt. My Grandma had decided she wanted me to have it and changed the will. My Aunt, as level headed as her daughter, threw a fit and has yet to speak to my Grandma. This is where the perspective part comes in. Here my Cousin and my Aunt have their Mom and Grandma, right here. One single phone call away. One medium length car ride away, and what do they do? They disown her. The one woman who has taken care of both of them their whole lives, shunned. Over what? A house. They are willing to give her up all for a house, while I would give up that house in a heartbeat if it meant I got to keep her. Here my boss would probably give anything to say goodbye to her parents, see them one last time, have them be just a phone call away, a medium length plane ride away, but these people are more concerned with what they are getting than who the person is they’re getting it from. The woman is not even dead yet, and they are arguing over inheritance. My Cousin and her wife were so concerned about my Grandma’s welfare with going into one of these places, where are they now? Have they called to see if she’s happy, to see how many friends she’s made. Nothing.</div>
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This is a woman who had my cousin live with us every summer until she was 17, took her camping, bought her clothes, paid for her braces, put her through 12 years of private school, has always stood up for my cousin and had her back, she has accepted everything about my cousin’s lifestyle and has never judged her . For shame Nana!! How could you be such a horrible person!! When my cousin left her husband in the middle of the night and drove from Denver with a four month old baby and you offered up your home to her?? Despicable!!! When she got hooked on drugs and stole almost $2000 from you to pay your phone bill that she ran up $2000 and you forgave her?? You bitch!! Apparently doing all these things makes her totally deserving of this treatment. Geez, apparently I’m the crazy one.</div>
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This is really no shocker coming from my Aunt though. Once she found this dog and gave it to us, but it didn’t get along with our dog so we needed to give it back. We brought it over to her house while she was at work, and I asked her if we should leave it in the back yard, and she told me no (because technically she stole it from her neighbor and she was afraid they would see her back there), that I had to leave it in the house. So I did. When my Grandma and I got home there was a lovely message on our answering machine from my Aunt. Apparently I was supposed to lock the dog in the bathroom, but since no one informed me of this, I had no idea. She was really angry and said that the dog had chewed on her couch because I did not lock it up. There was some other stuff she said too, if I could just remember what it was. Oh, right, how could I forget, she also said that I was a selfish bitch, and that if I died tomorrow, she didn’t give a shit. This is my family, you’re a little jealous, I can tell.</div>
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It just really blows my mind the amount of parents out there who are basically abandoned. They sit in rest homes, in their living rooms, and in hospital beds, waiting for someone, their own children, to come visit them. My Grandma criticizes me sometimes about the fact that I’m unsure if I ever want children. She says “Brett, who will take care of you when you’re old?” The first thought that comes to my mind is “Is that the reason you have children? A guaranteed care taker?” Apparently not these days. Old people seem to be a burden on their children more and more. They say, “I don’t have the patience”. Really? Because as a child, you didn’t wear on your parents’ patience at all, right? Trust me, I guarantee that you were no walk in the park as a child. Not only did your mother have to lug you around in her body for 9 months, causing her god knows what kind of discomfort, you ruined her body, and who knows what other body parts. I’m sure they have had your bodily fluids on them more times than they would like to remember. You threw tantrums, you cried all night, you wouldn’t eat your dinner, you did badly in school, you probably broke some rules and some laws, and you were a teenager. You were not a gem dropped down by the hands of God, on a cloud of silk, sprinkled with glitter and pooping diamonds. You were a pain in the ass and I guarantee they had the phone number for the local adoption agency in their hand, ready to dial, more than once.</div>
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Parents usually take care of their kids for about 18 years, and most of the time they don’t stop, even after their kids are grown. I just feel that I couldn’t do enough to repay what they’ve done for me. I don’t do what I do with an expectation of what I will get from them later on. I do it because they did it for me for 18 years (this is where my Grandma would clear her throat and say “18 years? More like 33 years darling"), and especially in my situation, after they were done raising kids, ready to retire, and didn’t have to, but chose to, and never once complained. Well maybe once or twice. I too, was a pain in the ass. So I wonder how these people would they feel if when they were a child and their parents just pushed them aside because they didn’t have the patience, or they were too busy and it was just too much of burden, or just too much for them to handle. Those people would probably be crying to a therapist right about now complaining how they are all screwed up because their parents just didn’t love them. How do they think their parents feel when they do that to them?</div>
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So now my Aunt is in a hospital bed, and they say it’s serious. She once said she didn’t give a shit if I died, should I now give a shit that she might die? Does it make me a hypocrite if I don’t? When I found out, I felt nothing. I still feel nothing. I find it hard to feel anything about someone who could treat the person who is EVERYTHING to me, like nothing. YOU are nothing, YOU have nothing inside you, and YOU have nothing to offer anyone. I don’t wish anything bad to happen, but am I worried, am I upset, have I shed one single tear for you? No, I feel nothing. Family or not, I can forget you ever existed. Unlike me, if you come running back, Nana would take you back, she doesn’t hold grudges. Me, I can hold a grudge like a damn world champion. I will tell you right now, I will never break for you. You are like a gnat shitting on my shoulder, it doesn’t exist to me. One day when you wake up and she’s gone, I hope you regret every single day you gave up with her. I hope you lose sleep at night wishing you could have made it right with her. I hope it eats you alive knowing how much you fucked up. While you do all this, I will go to bed every night knowing that I tried and may not have succeeded like I wanted to, but still tried to repay her for everything she has done for me. I will rest easy and be happy that every memory I have will be a good one. I will go to bed with no regrets because I didn’t let selfishness and greed take over. I can’t think of anything that my Grandma could do that would be so awful that I could do what you did. Especially after everything she has done for me.</div>
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So, after trimming the ugly fat of my family, and still having the good meat of it left, being the lucky girl I am, I got an extra serving of family with four little scoops of ice cream on the side. Like clockwork, not too long after this incident, I reconnected with my other Aunt and two cousins. I now have an amazing Aunt, 4 of the most awesome cousins, and 4 of the sweetest, cutest, and most polite little cousins a girl could ask for. Someone did me a favor and removed the most selfish, unloving people I have ever met, and replaced them with the most un-selfish, loving people I have ever met (besides myself…obviously).</div>
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I feel like there should be a moral of the story here. Moral is not a prominent word in my vocabulary, but I’ll give it a shot. Take care of the ones that took care of you. Don’t sweat the petty stuff and don’t pet the sweaty stuff. What you take for granted as always being there, might be gone in a heartbeat, make sure every day, the people you care about, know it. Don’t be greedy or selfish. Remember that things are just that, things. In the end, they hold no value. Lastly, take it easy….and if it’s easy, take it twice.</div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-72514603166671946622012-05-06T16:52:00.000-07:002012-05-06T17:03:51.382-07:00Wakey, Wakey, Hand On SnakeyA couple of days ago, I got up for work and immediately felt the imminent sucky-ness of the day. I could try and make it positive, but why would I want to do something like that?<br />
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I made the decision to enjoy my bad mood, roll with it and see where it takes me. I was going to find the negative in everything, even if I had to grasp at straws to make it happen. If your parade crossed my path, I was gonna rain all over that bitch.<br />
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To add to my despise of the day, I had just gotten a hair cut the day before, done by yours truly; I think you all know where this is going. If I had thought I could cut my own hair before, I sure didn't think so after the mental tongue lashing I gave myself. Even I couldn't avoid the wrath of me.<br />
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I know what you're thinking right about now, "but surely Brett, you endured the storm! It couldn't have possibly gotten worse!". Oh, but it could and it did.<br />
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The icing on the cake you ask? I was running late for work and didn't have time to stop and get my morning Rockstar. I know, I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy either.<br />
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Suddenly, there was a glimmer of hope on the horizon. My commute to work was going quicker than usual and I had just enough time to stop and get my well deserved and much needed Rockstar. I instinctively switched into stealth mode and summoned all the basic training skills that I never learned, because I was never in basic training.<br />
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"Johnson! CVS, one o'clock!"<br />
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"but sir, they might not have the 2 for $4 deal there!"<br />
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"There's no time, Johnson! The only place after this is on the other side of the street. With no signal, do you know what could happen trying to make a left hand turn on Sepulveda? The results could be detrimental. Catastrophic, even. We can't take our chances, Johnson...we have to go to CVS."<br />
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I turned into the CVS parking lot, knowing it was my only option. I jumped out of the car and walked in the store. I do a quick scan. 2 people in line, that's good. If there were any more, we would have had an issue. I walked over to the Rockstar cooler and...<br />
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<i>Wait a second. Was that lady in line buying condoms? It's 9 in the morning!</i><br />
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I reached in the cooler and grabbed two cans, while pointing out to myself, they do not have the 2 for $4 deal. I knew it.<br />
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<i>Well, good for her!</i><br />
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I walked to the register and took my place in line behind her. I'm a nosy person by nature, but before I judged this woman six ways till Sunday, I needed to verify that what I saw in her hand, was in fact condoms. I played it cool and pretended that I had to set the cans down, which made me move more to the right and gave me a visual of what was in her hand.<br />
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<i>Condoms! I knew it!</i><br />
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I inspected the bottom fabric of my purse and then grabbed my drinks and stepped to the left, resuming my place directly behind her. I noticed her, not great, figure and her even less stylish clothes.<br />
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<i>Hmm, she doesn't look like someone that would make another person not care if it's 9 in the morning, they need to hit that and they need to hit it now. Hold the phone. Remember where you are, Brett. She is a hooker! This is her preparing herself for a day at the "office"! Her day is literally going to consist of sucking. You should just be happy you're not a prostitute!</i><br />
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She looked to her right and I noticed the pick marks all over her face.<br />
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<i>She's a tweaker. She is about to have sex with some gross, strange dude, so she can get money to buy drugs. Some gross, strange dude is about to have sex with a hooker!!! Ugh!</i><br />
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She turned around and looked right at me.<br />
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<i>She heard me.</i><br />
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"Your hair looks really pretty."<br />
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I replaced the deer caught in the headlights look with a smile and said, "Aw thanks!".<br />
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<i>That was really nice prostitute lady. I'm sorry I judged you for buying condoms at 9 in the morning. I'm sorry I judged you when I realized you were a hooker and I'm sorry I judged you when I realized you were also a drug addict. I shouldn't have judged your clothes or your figure either, prostitute lady. That was nice of you to say that to me and made me realize I was being a complete asshole. This is why I shouldn't judge people. I really to stop doing that!!</i><br />
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She stood at the register and became excited and gave thanks when the clerk gave her total; She had just enough money to pay for the condoms. They said a few more things to each other, which I didn't understand and then I heard her say, "I want to be responsible, it's a matter of public safety".<br />
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<i>What in the world do you have, that the entire public has to be kept safe from??!!</i><br />
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<i>Dammit, I did it again.</i>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-56676219480868387422012-04-17T21:34:00.000-07:002012-04-17T21:34:06.517-07:00Shame on you Heineken<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Look at those bitches. No, not the ones in the ring, the ones outside of the ring. I'm saddened by this image and appalled to see it being sponsored by a major, well known company. Shame on you Heineken! What kind of company supports this?!<br />
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Here is a statement from Heineken, "Heineken is aware of a shocking photo of what appears to be a dogfighting match in a foreign country with Heineken branding visible in the background. We'd like to thank the community for bringing this issue to our attention. <br /><br />We are as appalled by this image as you are and have asked the Heineken Global Office to immediately investigate the circumstances of this event and whether Heineken was involved in any way. <br /><br />If you have any further information regarding this picture, such as the source, or the venue where it was taken, please let us know in this thread."<br />
<br />Is Heineken more appalled by this image or the PR situation they have just gotten themselves into? I have a feeling it's the latter. <div>
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I don't drink Heineken, but I know a lot of you out there do. I'm asking anyone out there who does support Heineken by purchasing their beer, to boycott Heineken. This means no New Castle either! DRINK STELLA!!</h3>
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Christmas actually started as <i>Saturnalia</i>, by the Romans. It was a week of widespread drunkenness, rape, destruction of property, going from house to house, singing naked (ah, if only caroling were still that fun), eating human shaped cookies and finally, on the 25th, human sacrifice. Does that really sound like a party God would throw? </div>
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Now, Que the Christians! In an attempt to convert the pagans, the Christians told them that even after converting, they could still celebrate Saturnalia. Since it had NOTHING to do Christianity, they had to fix this, but how? Let's see what we have to work with, we have alcohol, nudity, rape, violence and human sacrifice. That doesn't give us a whole lot....wait! I got it! Let's just start saying that the final day, the 25th, is Jesus' birthday! Problem solved....or was it? You know us pagan's, ain't nobody gonna hold us down, we got to keep on movin'! You can lead a sinner to God, but you can't take the sin out of a sinner who, once a sinner, always a sinner...or something like that. Basically, they were not able to stop the way Saturnalia was celebrated. The violence, rape and murder continued as if it wasn't anybody's birthday (psst...it wasn't!!).</div>
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Celebrating Christmas continued on by Christians, knowing full well, it was a pagan holiday. It was eventually banned by the puritans and became illegal to celebrate in MA. However, to this day, Christmas is celebrated, still, by most Christians. </div>
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So it begs the question, do they even bother to research why they participate in certain rituals or do they just shrug their shoulders, point to a book and in a well rehearsed manner say, "because the bible says so"? Why do they research everything else they do, before they do it, except for the thing they've based their entire life on?? Where would this world be if everyone lived like this, if no one ever questioned anything? Where would this guy be if he would have actually bothered to learn a little about what he has based everything he knows on, instead of having to be told, by an atheist, that what he thought was a burn, actually just ended up being a strange question. I racked my brain trying to think of a comeback, for about a half a second. "Yes, yes I do celebrate the most pagan tradition known to man, do you?"</div>
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</div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-64114500577200436592012-03-06T22:17:00.000-08:002012-04-18T09:43:06.597-07:00Divine or Human?To err is human, to forgive is divine. Have I "erred"? Oh yes, many, many times. Have I forgiven? Yes. Sometimes, easily. Sometimes, not so easily and sometimes, a little too easily. What about the ones I haven't forgiven. There are people out there, that I feel have wronged me, that I cannot bring myself to forgive. I have even gone out of my way to find a definition of forgiveness, to see if I could allow myself to forgive them. I couldn't.<br /><br />Trying to define forgiveness, is like trying to define love. When you say "I love you" to someone, it can be taken completely different than how you meant. To you, it could mean, "I love you as a friend". To the other person, it could mean, "I'm head over heels, marry me now". Just like saying, "I forgive you", could mean "I'm longer have ill feelings towards you, but I do not want anything to do with you", but to the other person it could mean, "I'm no longer angry, let's work on building our relationship again". Here is one definition I found for forgiveness, "Generally, forgiveness is a decision to let go of resentment and thoughts of revenge. The act that hurt or offended you might always remain a part of your life, but forgiveness can lessen its grip on you and help you focus on other, positive parts of your life. Forgiveness can even lead to feelings of understanding, empathy and compassion for the one who hurt you. Forgiveness doesn't mean that you deny the other person's responsibility for hurting you, and it doesn't minimize or justify the wrong. You can forgive the person without excusing the act. Forgiveness brings a kind of peace that helps you go on with life."<br /><br />In one of my situations, the hurtful act was not done only to me, but also to someone I care very deeply about. I will never welcome the ones that did it, back into my life, but I don't feel resentment towards them or the need for revenge. I do feel, however, that what was done was absolutely unforgivable. I find it difficult to have understanding, empathy and compassion for anyone who could do something like they did. In the other situation, I still have resentment and to this day still, want to physically hurt the person who wronged me. I probably never will, but lord knows I'd like to. Unlike the first situation though, I do feel understanding and empathy. I do not feel compassion and do feel that what was done was completely unforgivable. <br /><br /><div>
I was once told, that to stop being angry and to move on, I had to get down to the bottom of exactly what it was that mad me so angry. I thought about what that person did to me, that caused me to become so angry. To me, it was so simple, action = reaction. Then I started thinking backwards from the action and through the course of our relationship. I remembered little things that happened and something clicked. I actually started to feel sorry for this person. I started to recognize their own unhappiness with who they were and I suddenly became less angry. I used to have dreams about this person, in which the entire time all I was trying to do was cause them physical pain. Those suddenly stopped. I felt great! I had finally rid my head of this person! As time passed though, I felt the anger creep back in. I'm not sure why, because I had not seen this person since it happened. While it's not nearly as strong as it was in the beginning, I still find myself, at the thought of them, feeling angry and every so often, I will have one of the dreams, where I just go Mike Tyson all over their ass. Minus the ear biting part, of course. <br /><br />People say that not forgiving, is to allow that person to rent space in your head. I know that slowly, but surely, I'm putting their crap out on the street, where it belongs, but I still have a few random items that I need to get rid of. Once the day comes when I finally pack up the rest of their stuff, do I think I could actually give it back to them in person and say "I forgive you"? Well for starters, that would be slightly weird, considering there was never an apology, but secondly, I don't think I ever could, because to me, letting them know I forgive them, IS denying them the responsibility of what they did. I feel like it's excusing the behavior. If I can forgive them for this, what else could I forgive them for? What else will they think they can get away with? It seems the road to forgiveness is a complicated one, that has raised more questions than answers, but I will continue on. No one lives in my head without paying rent. No one.</div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-77819525055290188732012-03-03T14:31:00.001-08:002012-03-03T14:31:53.290-08:00Quote This<span style="font-family: inherit;">Other people's words, can inspire your own. Here are some of my favorites that I want to share:</span><div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">"<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Accept that other people's perspective on reality is as valid as your own (even if it goes against everything you believe in), and honor the fact that someone else's truth is as real to them as yours is to you."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">"</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">I don't have an attitude problem... You have a problem with my attitude- That's your problem, not mine."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Your beliefs do not make you a better person, your behavior does"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">“Spiteful words can hurt your feelings but silence breaks your heart.”</span>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"The only thing standing between you and your goal is the bullshit story you keep telling yourself as to why you can't achieve it"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">“Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it. Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many. Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books. Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders. Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.”</span>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">"It doesn't have ANY effect on your life. What do you care? People try to talk about it like it's a social issue. Like when you see someone stand up on a talk show and say 'How am I supposed to explain to my child that two men are getting married?' I dunno, it's your shitty kid, you fuckin' tell 'em. Why is that anyone else's problem? Two guys are in LOVE but they can't get married because YOU don't want to talk to your ugly child for five fuckin' minutes?"</span>
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<span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">"</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">sometimes you have to lose your mind before you can come to your senses."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">"</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">we stopped looking for monsters under our bed, when we realized they were inside us."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">"</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"> Boy, these conservatives are really something, aren't they? They're all in favor of the unborn. They will do anything for the unborn. But once you're born, you're on your own. Pro-life conservatives are obsessed with the fetus from conception to nine months. After that, they don't want to know about you. They don't want to hear from you. No nothing. No neonatal care, no day care, no head start, no school lunch, no food stamps, no welfare, no nothing. If you're preborn, you're fine; if you're preschool, you're fucked. Conservatives don't give a shit about you until you reach 'military age'. Then they think you are just fine. Just what they've been looking for. Conservatives want live babies so they can raise them to be dead soldiers. Pro-life... pro-life... These people aren't pro-life, they're killing doctors! What kind of pro-life is that? What, they'll do anything they can to save a fetus but if it grows up to be a doctor they </span><i style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">just might have to kill it?</i><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"> They're not pro-life. You know what they are? They're anti-woman. Simple as it gets, anti-woman. They don't like them. They </span><i style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">don't like women.</i><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"> </span><b style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">They believe a woman's primary role is to function as a brood mare for the state."</b></span></div>
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<b style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">"</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;">Religion is like a penis....</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;">It's fine to have one.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;">It's fine to be proud of it.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;">But please don't whip it out in public and start waving it around,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px;">And PLEASE don't try to shove it down my children's throats."</span></span><div>
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</div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-54990955293608736282012-02-16T01:08:00.000-08:002012-02-16T01:24:59.157-08:00Oh To Be Young Again...Most of you that will be reading this, probably have only known me in my older, "wiser" years. I'm going to give you some insight on me, as a child, so you can see how I've blossomed into the person I am today.<br />
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When I was about five years old, we had a campsite that we owned, that we would stay at for the entire summer. Because you could own them, the same people were there, year after year. I had a friend that was the same age as me, had a permanent kool-aid mustache and a mom that looked like Peg Bundy. There was the people right below us, that even though we saw them every summer, would never talk to us. Then to the right of our campsite was a couple that had a mentally challenged son. That's who this story is about. Even though he was in his 20's, he was mentally, much younger. Whenever our summer friends would be getting together, we would stop at his camp and ask his mom if he could come with us. She always appreciated us including him in our activities. One day my grandma came back to camp, when his mom came over and said she needed to talk to her. She told my grandma that her son and I had been drawing together earlier that day and that I had drawn a picture for him. He had came home with the picture and immediately showed her my art. She didn't quite know how to explain what I had drawn, so she brought it with her, so my grandma could see for herself. Apparently, I had drawn him a picture of a horse! This was no ordinary horse though, I had drawn a horse, with a big, huge dick. I had drawn, a mentally challenged guy, a picture of a horse with a penis. He had came home with the picture extremely embarrassed and showed his mom the dirty picture I drew. I'm not sure what my grandma said, in attempt to apologize for my "creativity" or what she said to me about my picture, but I guarantee, there were three very awkward conversations that happened that day.<br />
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This next story takes place when I was around the same age. I'm not sure how this started, but I do know it went on for quite some time. Every time we had company, let it be, family, family friends, and sometimes people I had never met, I would go in the bathroom, into the medicine cabinet and get the box of q-tips. I would stick them in my ears and then walk out into the living room where every one was visiting. I remember how much it would make everyone laugh, so I made sure to do it every, single time. I actually found it a little unusual how funny people would think this was. I also never quite understood the look on my grandma's face as I would prance around with these things in my ear. There would be a smile, but the smile was accompanied with a disapproving head shake. She seemed embarrassed. I didn't know why she would be embarrassed. Obviously, I was quite the crowd pleas er. It wasn't until years later I found out why she was so embarrassed. That box of q-tips stayed in the medicine cabinet well after my performances had stopped. I was about 13, when I opened the medicine cabinet one day and realized exactly what it was that I was sticking in my ears. They didn't look like the ones we use now, which is why it took me a while to recognize what they were. I opened the medicine cabinet and noticed the box of tampons. It instantly hit me, that this was the same box that contained the "q-tips", that I would stick in my ears with the strings dangling down and parade around in front of company with. Oh how proud I must have made her.<br />
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You're not surprised are you?Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-16585854417986194092012-02-04T17:34:00.000-08:002012-02-06T22:26:52.468-08:00It's Not Rocket Science.<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Raavi; text-align: center;">“Excuses are monuments of nothingness. They build bridges to nowhere. Those who use these tools of incompetence, seldom become anything but nothing at all.” -Unknown</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Raavi; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Raavi; text-align: center;">When do you stop making excuses for life? When do you finally take responsibility for your life and realize it's not outside sources that are the problem. You are the problem.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Raavi; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Raavi; text-align: center;">Weak people make excuses for why they do things, or more importantly, why they don't do things. I consider these people weak because they are basically saying, that they have no control over their own lives. They couldn't do it because of this or that. If you really, truly wanted to make it happen, you wouldn't be talking about it, you would be busy doing it. Excuses make it obvious that you didn't want it bad enough and this or that take the blame, while you save face. Or do you?</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Raavi; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Raavi; text-align: center;">Those who make excuses for why things aren't their fault, don't realize that everyone can see right through them. While they are busy not taking responsibility, they don't notice the "what are you doing with your life?" look on others faces as they listen to the laundry list of excuses spewing from from their pie hole. When you make an excuse, you are trying to convince someone else that it is circumstances beyond your control. The reality is, you are only trying to convince yourself and your actions or </span><span style="font-family: Raavi;">in-actions are in your control and only in your control. There are always going to obstacles in life, do you just forever succumb to them? You are a coward if you do. You obviously don't have the guts to stand up for yourself and make them get out of your way.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Raavi;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Raavi;">Sometimes these obstacles are people, they like to blame those around them, friends and family, for holding them back. They like to blame others for their bad habits. No one can stop you from accomplishing what you want to accomplish. You are allowing them to stop you and you are blaming them when, in fact, you are stopping yourself. I can't remember ever seeing the news and hearing, "Coming up on the news at 10, Friend forces other friend at gunpoint to go to a bar, victim was then forced to consume mass quantities of alcohol. Victim found the next day, hungover and useless". Why is it, that there are excusses made for the important things in life, or should I say, claim to be important and there never seems to be any obstacles in the way when it comes to less important things in life, like the fun things. If only the stuff that was considered important could be done in a bar, excuses would cease to exist. People with bad habits will always try to hold you down, especially if you have that bad habit in common. They will want to keep you around so that they're not being a loser all by themselves, or maybe it's the other way around and you need them. I wouldn't want to keep people around me who do not have my best interest in mind. If you are that needy and can't fathom losing any friends, then you need to be strong and for godsake's show a little self control. Tell them you have better, more important things to do. If they want you to succeed, they will understand. If you have no self control, you might want to think twice about the company you keep. Be careful though, if you decide to remove people with bad habits from your life, you might realize your bad habits are still there, even after they are gone. Who will you have to blame then?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Raavi;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Raavi;">In defense of the people who are challenged in the accountability department, I think it has to do a lot with how they were raised. They didn't have to do anything themselves, everything was handed to them. In between the physical coddling, there was the mental coddling. Always hearing their parents make excuses for them, they start to develop the, "well if my mom doesn't think it's my fault, then I guess it isn't" mentality. These parents have failed their children and have molded a lazy child, that will only have one main accomplishment in life, making excuses. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Raavi;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Raavi;">It boils down to this; if you still find obstacles *cough* YOU *cough* in your way, then you simply don't want it enough. It is no longer a goal, or a dream, or a passion. If it was, nothing would hold you back. Maybe it's time to find something else important that you won't find excuses for, like working at the local bar. </span></div>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8069332861129909984.post-52529670102303798952012-02-01T20:33:00.000-08:002012-02-02T10:53:47.379-08:00Well, You're Kind of a Dick!I have come to a decision. A decision, that once made, is very hard to go back from. I've decided, that I no longer believe that there is a God. That's right. I have denounced God. For those of you who don't know, this means I have pretty much just sentenced myself to the worse possible fate you could have. Essentially, as soon as you denounce God, you go straight to hell. Do not pass go, do not collect one of those little golden harps. Straight. To. Hell.<br />
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Let's say this is all true. God is up there and he is pissed. After 12 years of Catholic school, this is what he gets from me? He doesn't think it's right, that after everything he's done, I deny him. Well guess what God? I don't think what you have done is right! Let me explain. God created us. He made us into finely tuned machines, with brains that are so intricate, we don't even know how to use the whole thing. With this brain, he gave us free thought and reasoning. He gave us the ability to analyze. We wouldn't have science, if this wasn't true. However, here is what he has failed to give us. There are claims of holy events and his existence, yet gives us no proof. He gives us solid, concrete proof for things that completely contradict what he says is true. Why would a God give evidence and proof to support his non-existence, but give us nothing to support his existence? So let me make sure I'm getting this straight God, you give me a brain equipped with free thought, you give me nothing that proves your existence, but you do give me proof that contradicts your existence, yet if I don't believe in you, you will send me straight to hell. That's kind of a dick move! You are setting me up to fail! If my choice is to believe in someone, who obviously is out to get me and does not have my best interest in mind or an eternity to hell, I'll take hell any day. God seems like a complete asshole.<br />
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What you want to believe in is up to you, who am I to tell you what's right and wrong. I will leave you with this interesting equation; Being an atheist I have a 50:50 chance of being correct, either there is or there isn't a God. For all the theists, here is a breakdown of their odds:<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;">G</span> x <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;">D</span> = </b><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">X </span></b><b>: 1</b></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Let <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;">G</span></b> be The number of possible Deities (ever existing)</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Let </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;">D</span></b> be the number of denominations in the persons religion</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Let <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;"><b>X</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-weight: bold;"> </span>be the<b> total </b>of G & D for the ratio.</span></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Given that there is around </span></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>2812</b> different deities<br /><b>(Extreme Minimum)</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;">G</span></b> = 2812</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">--------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">For this I will pick Christianity</span></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There is currently around <b>38,000</b></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Christian Denominations.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;">D </span></b>= 38,000</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">--------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now Lets use that Formula</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2812 x 38000 = X</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2812 x 38,000 = <b>106,856,000</b></span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">--------------------------------------------</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So if you are christian, you have a</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1 in 106,856,000 of having the right god, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">and then the right denomination.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mind you, These calculations,<br />do not take into consideration Cults & Sects.</span></div>
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14149302587376505145noreply@blogger.com0