"There's a new girl in town,
and she's looking good!
There's a fresh freckled face
in the neighborhood!

If only. Remember, scoured from the Rankings List only:

Observations From The Front Line - D.O.B.: 12/20. If you have time to "observe", then guess what? You ain't at the "Front Line". You're maybe on the Waiting List or probably outside, but the Line it ain't. The Trials and Tribulations of a Librarian. No, really. Ssshhh...

Diagnosis and Treatment of Shingles - The title has a High Eww Factor, especially since I've been lucky enough to have had them. One post thus far from a self-professed "Hollywood Insider" who talks about Al Gore. Hmmm... I'm guessing Barbra Streisand?

An Bingbing's Radio Weblog - No, this is not supposed to mean "One Bingbing". Apparently this person is actually named "An". You'd think with a last name like Bingbing, they'd simplify things some and spell it "Ann" or "Anne". However for all I know, it could be a man. Debut Post - "I don't want to be here but times are bad." Well that's inviting. Honey, if you don't want to be there then why the fuck would I?

Grrl Sports and Games - One lonely little post thus far on Christmas Eve. For all we know this could have been the result of a drunken bet at an Office Party. We may never know and I'm not holding my breath.

The Marprelate Tracts - I have no idea. The word "marprelate" isn't in the dictionary and as far as I'm concerned, we're not missing a thing. More Political Ranting from Someone You'll Never Meet.

An Irreverant, Spiritual, Progressive, Activist Thing - Initially called "Change of Conversation" and now called "What Every Blog On The Internet Is About". I got bad news for the author of AISPAT, you're preaching to the choir. There is virtually nothing you could write that this crowd would find Irreverent and - newsflash - talking about Terrorism in a Blog is about as Progressive as Electricity. You would probably do better if this were the title of your Personal Ad, Salon Readers eat that Spiritual thing up.

That's it for the New Kids on the Rankings. I saw others on the Recently Changed but I've passed. Until next time...
10:25:29 PM    sro home /

I, I will be King
And you, you will be Queen
Though nothing will drive them away
We can beat them, just for one day
We can be Heroes, just for one day

And you, you can be mean
And I, I'll drink all the time
'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact
Yes we're lovers, and that is that

Though nothing, will keep us together
We could steal time, just for one day
We can be Heroes, for ever and ever
What d'you say?

I, I wish you could swim
Like the dolphins, like dolphins can swim
Though nothing, nothing will keep us together
We can beat them, for ever and ever
Oh we can be Heroes, just for one day

I, I will be King
And you, you will be Queen
Though nothing will drive them away
We can be Heroes, just for one day
We can be us, just for one day

I, I can remember (I remember)
Standing, by the wall (by the wall)
And the guns, shot above our heads (over our heads)
And we kissed, as though nothing could fall (nothing could fall)
And the shame, was on the other side
Oh we can beat them, for ever and ever
Then we could be Heroes, just for one day

We can be Heroes
We can be Heroes
We can be Heroes
Just for one day
We can be Heroes

We're nothing, and nothing will help us
Maybe we're lying, then you better not stay
But we could be safer, just for one day

- David Bowie

4:13:40 PM    sro home /

The women here in Jacksonville are all definately in touch with their Inner Butchness. Too much, if you ask me. It has totally fucked up my Gaydar, although my Lesbian Gaydar was never my strong point. Short, "athletic", Dorothy Hamill Dos are the norm. Tight jeans accentuate their robust asses and are topped by either oversized t-shirts or tight cotton turtlenecks. Going to the store is like being transported by some Strange Dyke Force to the Dinah Shore Classic. It's a little creepy and frankly, I get a little intimidated.

However, unless there's some Big Lesbian Secret being withheld from me, not all of these women could be gay. Some are even seen with men, although more along the lines of mousy, men-like creatures who stare ahead blankly and push the shopping carts. It raises the term "Pussy Whipped" to a whole new level.

The women who aren't Stepford Dykes are almost comically the opposite as if panicked and overeager to seperate themselves from their Truck Drivin' Gendermates. They are, in prison parlance, the bitches and the General M.O. is "Too Much". Too much make-up, too much hair, too much clothing in girly feminine pastels with flowers or kittens or appliqued Tampons on them - just in case you weren't sure they were female. Their men are equally cartoonish, the blueprint for the Construction Lout or the Football Couch Potato or The Missing Link. They are definately not pushing the cart, preferring to walk ten feet ahead of the "Women Folk", pausing at the end of the aisle to scan for likely Predators while their mates debate Packaged Bread Prices. If they exhibit any involvement, it's limited to the areas of Beverage, Meat and Toilet Paper - the Three Basic Survival Groups.

In all cases, I've found the most effective approach has been to stay as out of the way as possible. Sudden movements often startle the Natives and you do better to glide slowly along the aisles, freezing if noticed and pretending to be a stack of Entemenn's boxes. Occasionally one will confront me directly, fascinated (I'm guessing) by my Strange Attire and Unusual Accessories. In this case, the gawking is often accompanied by a form of greeting. "How're yew?" or "Geud Marnin'" being common. DO NOT STOP WALKING. A brief smile and one monosyllabic noise will suffice. "Hi" or "Fine" or even just a "Hmm" will show them you mean no harm and that frankly, you are just as scared of them as they are of you.

I have been forced into conversation. Yesterday the woman in front of me with her husband in the checkout line began commenting a little excitedly over the items I was placing on the conveyor belt.

"THOSE PEPSI BOTTLES JUST DON'T WANT TO STAND UP DO THEY? HA HA HA!!"

They hadn't mentioned anything to me but taking her word for it, I just let them lay on their sides.

"JOHN, LOOK, HE'S BUYING THAT HUMMUS STUFF!"

"John" looked back and I could see he was scanning everything trying to decide which item was this "so-called" Hummus. Just when I thought he'd determined it was the pasta (since it wasn't in a long thin spaggetti box), the wife recognized the woman behind me.

"SUSAN? IS THAT YOU! I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN SIX MONTHS! YOU KNOW WANDA MILKENS HAD A HYSTERECTOMY AFTER HER TWINS!"

Ok, this was where I mustered every bit of Recreational Drug Recall I could and put myself into a self-induced trance. Thinking about the lights, the music, my blog, the Adult Swim cartoon I'd seen the night before. It's an extremely useful talent with words like "blood" and "breach" and "scar tissue" only occasionally drifting to the top of my consciousness like so many pieces of a plane that had exploded over the ocean.

Finally they left, after a lengthy description of the Furnished Apartment they were staying in because "WE'RE BUILDING YOU KNOW!". No, actually, I didn't but now everyone in the entire County has been informed. I was left in line with "Susan" who was struggling between her misconception that I was friends with "John" and his wife and that I was a Mass Murderer with Satanic Connections. Finally, just to put her out of her misery, I turned before leaving and with my Biggest Christian Smile said "Have a Gewd Un" and quickly marched back to the safety of my Mom's station wagon.
11:44:59 AM    sro home /