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audiobooks, audiobooks ruin lives, Blondie, California, crushes, Debbie Harry, evolution, herpes, Intelligent Design, it's official!, learning is useless!, madness, ravages of time, regrets, San Jose, Science
By Tardsie

With Which We Have A Relationship Of Sorts. Our Status? It’s Complicated.
After A While It’s Like Fingernails On A Chalkboard
Can a man be driven mad by nothing more than the ceaseless sound of his own voice? We’ll let you know, but our working hypothesis is “yes.”

shutupshutupshutupshutupshutup
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Regrets For A Life Not Really Lived
People say that the things you really regret in life are not those that you do, but rather the things you don’t do.
Maybe. But tell that to the bright young professional who has to go to work every day with a herpes sore on her eyelid.
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Why Growing Up Is A Pyrrhic Victory
A couple of weeks ago I had the opportunity to see Blondie in concert in San Jose, California. When I was a kid, I had a major crush on Debbie Harry, the band’s lead singer. It’s sort of a comedown to realize that now, when I’d have at least a decent shot at having her, it’s most likely not worth the effort.

Whereas–Let’s Face It–I’d Have No Shot With This Version.
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Time Wasted On The Creation/Evolution Debate
What with a national election and other impending crises, the Evolution vs. Intelligent Design debate has fortunately simmered down. The argument, which pits religious fundamentalism against science has raged for years in America’s heartland.
What gets lost in all the posturing and soul-shaking is that it doesn’t really matter. Unless you grow up to be a geologist, a thorough knowledge of earth-science will have even less bearing on the day-to-day workings of your real life than algebra. And if you are a geologist, then you went to college where they straightened all that shit out.

It Did, At Least, Give Us The Flying Spaghetti Monster.
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On Joy Killers
I’ve never understood why some people like to stomp down another person’s joy. From the rotten little shit who shatters the Santa Claus myth to militant atheists who’d rather be right than happy, don’t people have better uses for their time than to try to make somebody else’s life as empty as their own? Ultimately, does it do you any good to let the dude with four yellowing teeth and the “No Fat Chicks” hat know that pro-wrestling is fake?
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Things To Stop Saying
“Officially.” Unless something is truly official (i.e., “intended for the notice of the public and performed or held on behalf of officials or of an organization”), don’t call it that. You and your ex-girlfriend are not “officially” broken up.
However, you and your ex-wife ARE “officially” divorced.

You Thought We Were Lame As Hell–But Then You Saw This.
Yeah, Debbie Harry ain’t even a GILF these days for most of her fans – cool concert to go to? I imagine she still rocks even if she is ‘officially’ past it :-))
Aaargh. Okay, I’ll never use Official again, unless necessary. You know, I don’t use awesome anymore… it seems everything is awesome, inluding that rock on the ground… nor the word ” hero”. I mean, the player who shot the winning goal is a hero? So what do you call the guy who lost his life to save another ?
It would seem to me that the stars of reality television shows are proof that “Intelligent Design” can’t possibly exist. On the other hand, judging by how close some of their behaviors are to the poo-flinging antics of our ape friends, evolution seems a safe bet.
Fantastic comment!!! 😉
Thank you!
What Gunta said! 🙂
Hey, fancy meeting you here. 🙂 Smak will enjoy us peppering our comments with emoticons. Here are a few more: 🙂 😉 😮
I don’t mind emoticons; they’re just for me. And, if I might add a perhaps poorly-chosen further comment, I think it’s adorable when chicks use them.
Maybe that’s why I don’t like emoticons–I don’t ever want to be seen as adorable. And I’m pretty sure I never have been. But I begrudgingly use them online to avoid misinterpretation of my comments. Because even though I’m not adorable, I am nice…
Because even though I’m not adorable, I am nice…
Whereas I try to go the extra mile by being both.
Yes, your blog content projects that…
I’m going to jump on this Carrie-comment-loving, emoticon-flaunting bandwagon because it’s so so true!!!
Jump on in–the more the merrier! Well, online, anyway. You know that if this were in person, I’d want to be alone in my bandwagon…
I know, and that’s okay too. 😀 We’d have our own bandwagons parked across from each other and we could wave at each other.
There you go.
Joy killers should be eliminated.
There was a disturbing lack of pornographic magnets on that refrigerator, Sir.
Okay, I’m convinced to try to stop using the word “official” except when officially appropriate. I hope you’ll return the favor by helping to stamp out metaphorical uses of the word “literal.”
How did you know my ex-wife and I are officially divorced? We just finalized it today.
I represented her in the divorce. I’m surprised you didn’t catch that.
As a 15-year old, I had a major crush on Linda Ronstadt. I’m pretty sure that crush would finally disappear if I happened to see her on T.V. today. Then again, few of us age gracefully. I’m just glad I’ve had the opportunity to age at all.
“Ultimately, does it do you any good to let the dude with four yellowing teeth and the “No Fat Chicks” hat know that pro-wrestling is fake?”
It’s fake?
You label the joy killers well. As if any of us really have a clue; we just pretend we do.
It’s fake?
Actually, I’m sure there’s a “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Clause” answer in here somewhere. I suppose I could take the angle that, although the outcome is predetermined, professional wrestling (also known as ‘rasslin’) is no more fake than ballet, and a good deal more interesting.
There are lots of Joy Killers in the world. I think there are some people who thrive on trying to make other people miserable. Don’t let them steal your joy, Smak. Keep on smiling! I accidentally killed Santa Claus for a kiddo I adore, at school last year, right before holiday break. I didn’t mean to! My instructor friend, who is an athesist and proud of it, killed baby Jesus. We had some full-on weeping going on…nobody got fired, though! whew!
Do you live in San Jose?
No, that’s just the closest “concert sized” town. I live 180 south in Morro Bay (that’s in SLO county–if I’m not mistaken, you also reside in the Golden State, but I’m not sure how long you’ve been here). I don’t go to a lot of huge shows, but none of my faves ever come through here (Social D excepted).
We were in Morro Bay several weeks ago. We went to a dog beach over there and watched the gray whales. I really like the SLO area. I’m a sucker for the oak trees and hills.
I liked Deborah Harry back in the day, too, but there’s a part of me that wishes that all rock stars would quit performing before they get old. Follow the rules of the anthem “My Generation” — but I’d stop short of sending them to the guillotine. Listening to emotion-choked Paul McCartney warble at the Olympics was painful. Make way for the next generation. isn’t Madonna’s latest tour being sponsored by Geritol? Pass the baton to Gaga who I think has more genuine music talent, but I have never been a Madge fan, so I am biased.