Troubling Song Lyrics...

Okay, So this is a cute song in a bubble gum poppy dance club kind of way, but if you listen to the lyrics, there is one line that is beyond explanation: "But we kick em to the curb unless they look like Mick Jagger"

Jagger does rhyme with swagger, I get it.... But seriously? If you saw a guy that looked like Mick Jagger, but was definitely NOT Mick Jagger, in say...a bowling alley or something, that would be a good thing? I understand that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but I think even Mick Jagger knows if he wasn't a rich and famous rock star, he'd be paying for sex, or desperately hoping to get some Carny drunk enough to do him just before she vomits and passes out.

For Cody

Cody Steven Smartassbian: Jan 5, 1996 - May 14, 2010

Cody was an adorable pup who stole my heart, and after an hour or so of begging and pleading, came to live with me and his other, more reluctant at first, mother. Cody was smart and was house-trained in record time, but his puppy-hood was not without the occasional snag. There was the sofa he ate, and the fact that he liked to eat his own poo. We heard that if we sprinkled cayenne pepper on his poo, it would break him of the habit, however it only succeeded in developing his taste for spicy food.

Cody was an adventurer, going on countless hikes, rock climbing jaunts, cross country skiing, and camping trips. He even went down the rapids in a two-man kayak. He kayaked the waters of Lake Tahoe and traversed many trails in the Tahoe National Forest among other places. He lived on both coasts. He had an amazing sense of direction and smell, and could always take you back to the starting point or the car, no matter how lost you thought you were.

When visiting the various dog parks in the LA area as a young dog, Cody felt compelled to visit every person at the park. He loved people. He was only interested in playing with the dogs that could surely kill him in an instant! He would get in the car with any stranger, and was lucky enough to be petted by Melissa Etheridge.

When I got upset about something, or lost my temper, making most everyone and everything around me, want to get away, Cody always came to me...wondering what was wrong. This had the strangest calming effect on me, that no person could have ever had.

Cody was a clean dog, choosing to walk around mud, not through it. He loved cheese and cheese popcorn. He loved to chase bunnies, and actually caught one once, much to my dismay. He never bit anyone, or got into a fight with another animal. He could, and would, remove the squeaker from a new toy with surgical precision with the first 5 minutes of ownership. He was well behaved, and once trained, no longer needed to be kept on a leash. He loved to have his back end just above his tail scratched, and would let you pet his head, only to reposition himself under you hand, until you were scratching his butt.

Full grown he weighed 34 pounds. People often said he looked like a Dingo. The kind that ate your baby. Cody was a wonderful companion, and an easy dog to care for and love. He developed a tumor in March which grew from the size of a marble to the size of large grapefruit in about 8 weeks. This eventually grew to impede his ability to chew and was encroaching on his ability to breathe. Today, his other mother and I took him to the vet and held him as we watched his life end with a minimum of discomfort to him.

Cody will be missed.

Olympic Criticism

I think there should be an Olympics for criticism. I have lots of it! The one thing that is sticking in my craw at the moment, is the female figure skaters. Not that they aren't wonderful, they are, but the costumes are, for lack of a better word, repugnant!

Skating outfits have always been a little "off". But please, with all the attention to detail in their routines, is it too much to expect their legs to match their arms? What is with the skin tone on these outfits? The legs are always 4 shades darker than the torso and arms, and I don't understand why. To say nothing of the ridiculous frilly skirts that spend all kinds of time flying up over their butts, and distracting everyone from the actual skating.

The skaters train hard and have gorgeous bodies. The lines they make while skating are captivating, and even more so if you can actually see them! That's why the men are so much fun to watch. There was one woman in the pairs skating that wore a suit that really showed her lines and made her fun to watch. I for one would love to see a shift in women's skating to this type of outfit. If this isn't the future of women's figure skating, I do hope they'll at least think about making their bodies appear to belong to one person! So I can stop worrying that the bottom half will take off in a different direction from the top!

Surely this is a gold medal criticism, and they will be playing my song when I decide which country I want to represent. The place where I was born, or the place I'm going because they haven't made laws based on letting me know I'm not worthy of the same civil rights as my heterosexual superiors, but I can still enjoy paying the same amount of taxes just the same! Hmmm....

Stray Thoughts

Christmas is over, and the new year is nearly upon us. I spent this Christmas enjoying the hospitality of friends, as I am thousands of miles from my family. I had a much better time than I expected to have at both celebrations I attended, but what stuck with me was a conversation I didn't have with a very nice man, and why.

Is it just me or does everyone wonder why some people seem to refuse to curb their errant hair? If there is one thing I cannot stand to see its long flowing nose hair. The other things are ear hair that seems to be doubling as a wind sock, or eyebrow hairs several inches long... Really people, get a grip! Are you really that lazy, or just oblivious? Renegade hairs have always been a favorite pet peeve of mine. As far as your body hair goes, do what you like if I don't have to see it. Your head however is in the public eye.

The guy I was busy not listening to in the kitchen was blathering on about something or other, while I couldn't seem to pull my focus from his nose which had long straggly hairs on the bridge. He was so close to it with his razor only hours ago, yet there it was. As he spoke, I wondered if he felt it was a positive feature, or if he was afraid having a nose free of hair would make people regard him as effeminate, or possibly he'd be swamped by people asking if he was a swimmer. The other thought burrowing through my brain like an ambition drunk tequila worm was, How is that hair not in his field of vision? I know when I have even just a little flake of dead skin on my nose I can see it. This clump of unruliness must have had the effect of making everyone look as if they are sitting in a tuft of hair.

I began to wonder if its just me and my progressively pronounced OCD, or if it's a mystery to others as well. Then I remembered working with a guy almost twenty years ago, who had facial hair that grew clear up to his eyes, but he stopped shaving at the usual beard area, and let the hair above that flourish, as if someone had made him a template to follow years ago, and told him never to go outside those lines. That reminded me, I've always been this way. To the all the people who feel they should not disturb god's work, and let their hair grow wild and free, chances are good, I'm not listening to a word you say! Happy New Year!

My Blood Boilith Over...

The Green Card: How to get one. I thought the obvious solution was marriage. I was unhappy about the prospect of leaving California, but willing to make the sacrifice to be with the woman I love. I did some research and found this!

"Although gay marriage is legal in Massachusetts, Connecticut, Iowa, Vermont and New Hampshire starting Jan 1st of 2010, you are not allowed to sponsor a spouse for a green card unless they are of the opposite sex. "

Really? Is "WTF?" the proper response to that? I don't know how to react, I find I'm filled with rage! Is it just me?

I have to wonder why my girlfriend and I could live happily ever after quite easily if only one of us had a penis. Other than one of us having a penis attached, the options are; She could get a temporary work visa if her job skills are in demand here. Well, since no one's job skills are in demand here, and I've been out of work for about a year now, I don't see that happening.

The other way is political asylum. She would not have to prove the government was guilty of mistreatment, only that they aren't protecting her from abuse, based on her orientation. Seems difficult.

There is one other way they don't mention, but you have to have money. It seems a green card like everything else is easily obtained by the rich. If she bought a large enough share in an American company they would automatically award her with a shiny green card! However if we had that much money, we'd be shopping for a villa in Tuscany, so...who cares!

I believe the percentage of taxes I pay should be in direct proportion to the percentage of rights I have in this country. Why the fuck should my taxes be subsidizing a marriage tax break for people enjoying the rights I can't have?

This whole thing just seems ridiculous to me! *Storms off in a huff! *

A Letter To Ellen...(First Draft)

Dear Ellen,

You don't me, but I know you. I have fallen on hard times, but that's not new or unusual these days. I write because I have a dream, and I need your help making it a reality.

Some Background: About five years ago, I resigned from my corporate career to start my own business. I am an artist, and I'd finally figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up, or at least narrowed it down. I started my home remodeling business, but designing and building custom furniture, both free standing and built-ins was my passion. I moved from California to New England, where I'm from originally, because I had a big job there to start off with. I bought a house and built a workshop. Things started off pretty well. I got lots of referral business and repeat business, and it looked like I was going to make it. I don't have to tell you what happened next. I had taken on too much debt, and business ground to a halt. I lived alone with my dogs, neither of them had a job! The good that came out of it was I got to move back to California! The not so good, my house went into foreclosure, I had to sell my flawless Indian Chief motorcycle, and I went into a deep depression. My life's savings including my 401K depleted.

The Present: I have been back in Sacramento looking for work since mid February, and aside from a little home-handyman stuff here and there, I've found nothing. That's not why I'm writing you.

The Dream: I'm writing you because after 48 years of life, I have finally found the love of my life in Caroline Welsh. I have always believed in true love, and thought it must be out there somewhere, and now I know I was right. Here's where it gets sticky. Caroline lives in Cambridge, England. We are trying to figure out a way for her to come here and live with me. I would marry her, but it seems the people of California are not done with bigotry as the state pastime. For her part, she has quit smoking and uses the money she would have spent on cigarettes, on airfare to come visit me. We want to make a life and grow old together, is that asking too much?

The Shameless Begging: I know as influential as you are, there is still probably nothing you can do in an afternoon to make marriage legal for everyone, but maybe you could find a job for Caroline, so she can get her green card. She is currently a security guard for Huntsman International. She's good at guarding things, so maybe you need your studio, or parking space, or bike rack, guarded by a top notch guard. She's practically a ninja! A job for me as well, would be a bonus!

The Reality: Ellen, I know you'd help if you could, so please don't feel bad if you can't. I think you like helping others as much as I hate asking for help. If it were just me, I'd just take my lumps, but I'll do anything for the woman I love.

The Kissing Up: I'm a huge fan and have been ever since I first saw you do stand on HBO in 1989. You are so uplifting, and I watch you everyday while I get my exercise rowing on an erg. Keep up the good work!

Sincerely, Red Mojo

PS. Find a video I made for Caroline attached, with our heads photo-shopped onto your and Portia's bodies.

Does Everything Happen For A Reason?

Yes, yes it does!

No doubt some of you recall the post a couple months ago about hearts and women and opportunites thrown away or lost. At my lowest low I wrote a very funny, but very wise friend about my dilemma, and this was her reply:

"Just say no to anti-depressants. If you're torn between two women, neither one is the right one. Leave them both and drop the pills. This Dr Phil moment has been brought to you by Paxil."

I did not like hearing that at the time, but knew deep down that she probably was right. Since that time, I have gone off the anti-depressants and met the woman I intend to marry. This may be news to her, so baby, if you're reading this...wait! Come back!

Yes, I do believe that things happen for a reason. I do believe that my belief all these years in true love, was not in vane. I am happy! What I mean to say is... I AM HAPPY!!! I have found what I was beginning to think I never would. I am in love and it feels wonderful. I have no doubts, and no fear. Now all I need is a job.