Skip to main content

Hell in a hand-basket.

And, yes, I'm going to nickname all my traveling companions "Toto" instead of bothering to learn all their names.

So I was reading about the Cholera outbreak in Haiti. My question is, to which level of hell am I damned for immediately reacting, albeit extremely wryly, "That'll teach'em for practicing voodoo. Silly pagans...."

See, my actual first thought was "Wow, God must really hate them....", but the sarcastic voodoo comment followed closely and quite logically, really....
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Or just tell me what you think.

Other things that might interest you...

Oatmeal is tasty.

{slurps up berry-oatmeal-deliciousness} Indeed. I need to work on rebuilding a morning schedule. I can be zombie-like enough that I'll waste a perfectly good morning, and have often slept through many. And, really, it's such a useful time of day.
4 comments
Read more

I could do worse.

Lord knows I really want to rant right now; I've been angrier, sure, and I've felt more hurt, but the temptation is there to tear into this guy. But I'm supposed to be a grown up. He's supposed to be my friend--and I do care about that. I'm not supposed to even be taking these things so seriously anymore. So why the fuck am I? So I was dating a guy recently; we had four dates. I thought we were really starting to click. I'll admit it--I'd even begun to like the guy. Not quite like-like him, but there was a definite fondness growing. As I was learning more about him, I was liking what I learned more and more. We seemed to have chemistry, too. It was pretty nice how I could talk about smart stuff with him without either a) feeling like I was supposed to be talking down to him or b) feeling like he had to challenge me to a contest of who was the smartest fuck in the room. It was natural, intelligent, fun conversation. And that was really cool. I was defin...
Post a Comment
Read more

"Happy Halloween, 2010", draft(s)

This is a work in progress, inspired by a recent real-life accident . Hopefully there's enough in this poem that you don't need all the background, but I did provide it anyway. Well, here's the original draft of this poem, for simplicity: The train stopped for you As none of us'd suspected When the train jerked-stopped And powered down to quarter-light And the conductor informed us Of a "situation", and not to panic. "Was it terrorists?! Had someone bombed The metrorail system? or taken hostages??" No, no; most of the time, Life's too ordinary for that; No, no; it was just a man Too sad to live, standing On a metro platform, Looking down. afternotes: I was actually on the 8 car train to Glenmont that hit the man in the October 29th incident as mentioned at the beginning of this and timelined here . Because life is just weird like that, I proceeded to do the first of our two Halloween weekend Rocky Horror performances the sam...
1 comment
Read more