For years I have been a spectator for the drama that is my family’s Thanksgiving holiday. Some of our more memorable moments include my brother announcing he dropped out of a PhD program in Biochemistry to sell vacuum cleaners (he managed to sell one before he quit – to himself). My parent’s announcing they were going to build a new house so that my mom and her girlfriend could live together (my father on an entirely separate floor from them). One of my best-friends asking me to donate sperm for her and her partner to have a child – while subtly asking someone to pass the gravy. Then two years ago, my grandmother (who has Alzheimer’s) deciding to go on a naked stroll through the hospital. But not to be outdone by my family, I decided to join in on the drama this year – well at least not intentionally.
No, I didn’t come out to them – I did that many, many years ago (I waited till Father’s day for my dad – I wanted to make sure it was memorable for him). Instead, I spent my holiday in the emergency room (a massive infection, I’ll spare you the details). But you see, that wasn’t the drama. The drama came when the nurses were testing the dosage for pain killers (to stop the pain the infection caused).
There is a little thing about me that my close friends all know and realize. I have a VERY strong sex drive and can be a little bit of a slut (okay a big slut) when I don’t keep myself in check – basically I will hit on anything with a dick. I generally keep my hormones in check by the logical side of my brain, but when I drink or in this case am given painkillers all bets are off.
One of the nurses on duty at the hospital was an old friend of mine, and knew this reality. I am still trying to decide if she came to watch after me, or to watch the show. You see, she was supervising the male nurse who was responsible for giving me the test dose – first mistake. When they came in she gave me a hug and told me what they were going to be doing (basically figuring out just how much was enough without being too much). The sad thing is, I can remember most of what happened. After the first dose, I became a little more chatty – though still in pain.
Now is when the drama begins, after about ten minutes they gave me another small dose, as it was starting to kick in, I began discussing how nice the male nurses eyes were and how his ass looked in his scrubs – still in pain. The third dose now begins to kick in, the male nurse who was now sitting on a chair in front of me was looking in the other direction, without thinking about it I begin to massage his shoulders – still in pain. The fourth small dose, the nurse now standing was in close proximity when this dose began to kick in, my reaction to grab and fondle his ass – still pain, plus mental note he didn’t seem to mind.
The fifth dose was the part that will go down in family history. By this point, I was still feeling some pain, but it wasn’t the only thing I was feeling. Denise (the female nurse / so-called friend of mine) was standing in the corner trying not to laugh, while I am busy with my own activity – feeling up my male nurse. By the bulge in his pants, I could tell he didn’t mind at all, when here opens the door with both of my parents standing in the doorway. My father immediately turns and leaves, while my mother manages to utter something to the effect of “you seem to be feeling better” before turning and closing the door. Denise is doubled over laughing and the male nurse has this look of shock on his face. Then there is me, half glazed look on my face and still fondling the nurse and still in a little pain. The nurse finally backs into the corner and hands “my treatment” to Denise. My sixth and final shot begins to kick in and Denise asks if I feel anything. My response, to her was something about there being one thing I wouldn’t mind getting a better feel of – as I stare at the male nurse, the bulge in his pants, and the slight wet spot that has formed.
As is natural for my family, everyone lives in a state of denial. My parents didn’t make even one comment about me fondling the nurse; instead, they decided to comment on how beautiful all the holiday lights were as we drove home. The next day Denise called to “check up” on me – but more specifically to tell me everything I had done. I told her I could remember almost everything, but the guy’s name. She told me that his name was Richard, but that everyone called him “Little Dicky” as he was kinda short – and clearly with the painkillers talking, I responded that I could definitely attest to the fact that there was nothing little about Dick. Mental note, call Denise and get his number (if he’s single) maybe “lil’ dicky” can be my holiday present – if I he turns out to be a “pain” in the ass, hopefully it will be the good kind.

Men are fascinating creatures, everyone says that women are confusing, but I definitely beg to differ. I understand women just fine, it is men I have yet to figure out. What brings this on, none other than a guy – but not for the reasons you are probably thinking.
The short version – Shortly after I moved here to Morehead, a guy randomly emailed me (from here in town). We got to talking and eventually hooked up, he was simply a “friend with benefits”. There was never any chance for more, for no other reason than that I do not date “closet-cases”. Until about a year ago, he had never even been to my apartment – I used to tease him about being afraid that someone whom he did not know and would likely never see again might just see him coming into my apartment – how scandalous that would be. Anyway, we have been just friends for about six months now, but tonight is what brings on this rant.
Over the weekend, I had a three hour “bi*ch” session with a friend. Traditionally, we get drunk during these as it is just that much more entertaining for the other. A few minutes after the bi*ch session ended, ***** called (I’ll keep his paranoia down and just leave him as blanks). We decided to get together and watch a movie, as I was in no state to drive, he came and picked me up. Everything was fine, we watched movies, and drank quite a bit – as I was already “sh*t-faced”, I ended up “skunk-a*s drunk” naturally. We talked, and laughed, and watched movies – nothing else. After he sobered up, he brought me home, and helped me to bed (I had one hell of a hangover the next day). Absolutely nothing sexual happened. As he had been a perfect gentleman, I decided to cook dinner to thank him (nothing fancy). Here is where the confusing part of guys comes in (did I say this was the short version, well I lied ).
So, Monday I cut out of work a little early and came home to cook. About 5:30PM ***** showed up. Everything was fine, we talked a bit and had a glass of wine. I went into the kitchen to put in the garlic bread, and asked him (from the kitchen) “Do you want parmesan on the bread”. When he didn’t answer, I stuck my head out of the kitchen to ask again. What was I greeted by? None other than ***** sitting on my couch with his dick in his hand stroking it. He looked at me (with his very bad come hither look I might add) and said “Fu*k dinner, let’s just skip to dessert”. All I could do was laugh, I told him that I wasn’t that drunk and to put his cock away. I went back in the kitchen, now everything would have been fine, except my uber-bi*ch kicked in. I came out of the kitchen (he still hadn’t put his dick back in his pants) and I went off, I told him that A) he needed a new line, B) I was no longer in the mood to have dinner, C) I had work to do, and D) “if you haven’t gotten the hint – get the fu*k out”. Needless to say, he put his dick away. When he didn’t make any movements towards the door, I looked at him and with as much bit*hy drama-queen as I could muster told him to “get the FU*K OUT!”, he got the hint and left (subtle aren’t I). Now was I a bi*ch – YES. Was it justified, I think so.
Let’s be honest, if I invite a guy for dinner, he should at least have the courtesy to wait until after dinner to pull out his dick, or at least let me pull out his dick.
Now, I can hear every guy out there, “you led him on”, what a typical guy response. You see, I have come to the conclusion that when talking to most guys they hear in an entirely different language.
If you say, “How was your day?”, they hear “F*ck me now!”
If you say, “Do you want to grab a bite for dinner?”, they hear “F*ck me now!”
If you even say, “Hi”, they hear “F*ck me now!”
But if you say, “F*ck me now!”, they hear something to the effect of “**** is on TV”. For str8 guys this is probably some sport, for most gay guys it can be just about anything else.
Now, on a side note, my favorite of all are the men that refer to themselves as “we”; the collective “we” to which they refer is often none other than themselves and their penis. What the F*ck? Now, in all honesty, I love my penis, but I do not refer to it as a person – that is just insane. I don’t ask my penis what it wants for lunch or dinner (though I have met guys that refer to what food their penis is in the mood for).
I wonder if it is a sign that ***** hasn’t called me.

Think back to your American History class, do you remember McCarthyism. Most probably have some passing familiarity with that period, but as is often the case we have forgotten the lessons of the past.
If the College Republicans at the University of Colorado have their way, we will enter a new era of McCarthyism. But this time, the Republicans have picked a new enemy – liberals. I don’t even know what to say other than how absurd it is. If College Democrats did the same, they would be vilified by EVERY major media outlet.
This started me thinking back about my own college experience. I attended a pretty standard university, and in all honesty I could count the number of liberal professors that I had on one hand – conversely I would need a calculator to count the number of conservative professors. Equally, those liberal professors never used the classroom as a platform for their beliefs – they always presented both sides. The conservative professors on the other hand were always clear on their beliefs. I can remember a chemistry professor that disparaged women, gays, and minorities – what that had to do with Organic Chemistry is still beyond me. I had a professor in Sociology that disparaged poor people, feminists, and non-Christians all under the guise of teaching Demographic theory. Another that referred to a noted author as a stupid fa**ot. Yet another who made disparaging comments towards me due to my advisor (she [the advisor] had lodged a sexual harassment grievance against him). Yet another that decided I wasn’t worthy of the ‘A’ I had earned because I tutored a minority student who otherwise would have failed (I got a ‘B’ and before I could even get the paperwork submitted to appeal he had “lost” all of my graded work).
Are their liberal professors out there that use their class as a platform for their ideas – I’m sure that there are several, but let me teach a quick little lesson in registration. If you disagree with their curriculum take the class under another professor – I learned that lesson in dealing with professors that would rather spit on me than teach me as have most college students.
But, alas, let me give one last little nugget from my experience. I have been a part of several higher education institutions now, as both student and staff. The one thing that has been true at all – conservatives were more likely to be promoted, tenured, and receive “merit” pay raises – many were the same people that take 3 hour lunches and do little of nothing as I referred to in another post, but that’s my take on it.

Today, is National Coming Out Day – or as it should be called in this town Regional Ignorance Day.
If you came here you would have no idea of today’s significance other than if you walk into my lobby (thanks to no sleep and at times an armed police officer).
Last night in preparation for today and as part of our Passive Residential Education Program we hung several bulletin boards, banners, and images to promote awareness of LGBT issues. Within about 10 minutes students began to gather – in all of my years I have never encountered individuals so unwilling to listen. Anything that was in opposition to their religious quotes fell on deaf ears. The truly immense irony – those that objected refused to even read the information (whether they thought it might lessen their masculinity or simply make their eyes burn right out of their heads is unclear).
After about an hour it became painfully obvious that help would be needed to keep these displays from being ripped down (one of my RA’s decided to call campus police without telling anyone [it is always fun to watch the calvary storm in]). Yada Yada – This went on all night long with myself, my RA’s, and the occasional campus cop keeping the peace and bulletin boards hung until about 8AM.

I knew when I moved to this small town that I would have to deal with a great deal more homophobia than previously, but as the director in an honor’s hall I expected a different response.

Did I forget to mention that. That was the response from the best and brightest that this institution has to offer – amazing isn’t. But then again what can one expect from a group of students that don’t understand why running around campus screaming “We are the angry mob” and “we’re looking for someone to lynch” isn’t appropriate.

- We’re not even halfway through this day yet, I wonder how long until someone does decide to tear them down?

(Addendum – btw, I should mention that I was reprimanded by my supervisor for the displays – at least until I went above his head and challenged the appropriateness and message that he was sending to the community. It didn’t hurt that I threw in the fact that if it stood I would happily provide copies to several student groups and local publications that would find it interesting. In the end, it was he not I that was reprimanded.)

From the same people that had to make it “illegal to fish with a bow and arrow”, and make it “illegal to transport an ice cream cone in your pocket” comes the casino terminator 2000. That’s right – you have a riverboat casino that is mudding your view of the dirty Ohio river – well no longer Kentucky’s own Casino terminator will come to your rescue. The casino terminator 2000 is 688VLS class submarine capable of blowing any evil casino boat straight back to hell.

This has to be a joke right? Well that is what I originally thought when I read Kentucky’s House Resolution 256. The purpose to “encourage the purchase of a submarine to patrol the waters of the Commonwealth and search and destroy all casino riverboats”.
It is moments like these that I miss my dear ol’ home state. They’re all nuttier than a bunch of fruitcakes.
It isn’t enough to simply have police remove them from state waters – NO… that doesn’t send the right message – and of course the right message to send is to blow the F-ing thing to bits. Just remember rednecks and their guns.

BTW… For the full text and the guy responsible see more below.

The Man Behind the Resolution
Representative Thomas Burch of Louisville

The resolutions HR256

A RESOLUTION encouraging the purchase and vigorous use of the USS Louisville 688 VLS Class submarine.
WHEREAS, in the past few years the scourge of the casino riverboat has been an increasingly significant presence on the Ohio River; and
WHEREAS, the Ohio River borders the Commonwealth of Kentucky; and
WHEREAS, the siren song of payola issuing from the discordant calliopes of these gambling vessels has led thousands of Kentucky citizens to vast disappointment and woe; and
WHEREAS, no good can come to the citizens of Kentucky hypnotized from the siren song issuing from these casino riverboats, the engines of which are fired by the hard-earned dollars lost from Kentucky citizens;
NOW, THEREFORE,
Be it resolved by the House of Representatives of the General Assembly of the Commonwealth of Kentucky:

Section 1. The House of Representatives does hereby encourage the formation of the Kentucky Navy and subsequently immediately encourages the purchase and armament of one particularly effective submarine, namely, the USS Louisville 688 VLS Class Submarine, to patrol the portion of the Ohio River under the jurisdiction of the Commonwealth to engage and destroy any casino riverboats that the submarine may encounter.
Section 2. The House of Representatives does hereby authorize the notification of the casino riverboat consulate of this Resolution and impending whoopin’ so that they may remove their casino vessels to friendlier waters.

HI! My name is Digital Fairy and I am an addict
Ever since I was a child I have had a terrible addiction – I try to resist, but the need grows and grows and the impulses and desires become ever more severe, until … until … I would do anything to shop. YES! I CONFESS, I AM ADDICTED TO SHOPPING, I AM A SHOPAHOLIC!
What you thought I was going to say that I was some sort of crack or heroin addict. Please, I have too much self-respect – and fashion sense for that.

I come from a family of hunters – Dad and Brother hunt animals, Mom and I hunt bargains. Every year from birth till 18, every time a hunting season came around Mom and I would head out for a day of shopping – we were always much more successful hunters than my father and brother (Why did we do this? Well, I refused to kill Bambi’s mother and would call my father a murderer for weeks if I saw a dead animal, and my mother wanted to piss my father off). That is where my addiction began and it became more serious with each passing day.

What made me decide to come out – I realized that I just spent $1000.00 on stuff I didn’t really need in the course of a couple hours at auction sites – $1000.00 that I didn’t really have in the first place to spend. (I am such an impulse shopper!)

I know, $1000.00 doesn’t sound that bad, but that is not my biggest shopping excursion. The most I spent in one day $8000.00, but that was a long time ago – basically I don’t have that much money to spend. (Though in truth my biggest one day total was the check I wrote to buy my car $21,800 – I still remember writing – mainly because of the looks that I got having paid for a new car with a check – but that one I do not count as someone else gave me the money). But anyway, I digress.

Last night I decided to buy a new computer, don’t ask me why, I have 2 in my office and 3 in my apartment, not to mention my laptop – so I did not need another one. Why a new computer? Well, I decided that I am going to install Linux again (that is another story for another time), and I was in a lazy mood – too lazy to be bothered with transferring files off one of the old PC’s (that is pretty damn lazy). So I went shopping at the online-auction sites – settling on Ubid (Bear in mind that, I went shopping for a computer and only a computer, I have monitors and other things running out my ass).

So my little auction excursion. I decided that I didn’t want to spend much as I really want a big screen TV (another waste in a small apartment – don’t get me started, Hell crack would be cheaper than my shopping habit). So I go on and found what I considered to be a great deal an AMD Athlon 1.2GHz with 384MB RAM, a 40GB Hard drive, CD-RW drive, Network card, modem, etc… all for around $400.00 including overnight shipping. Perfect for a little Linux workstation to play around on. But was I satisfied with that no, I decided to look around and see what else they had. All in all, I ended up buying that computer, a new folding keyboard for my Palm Vx (including shipping only $25.00), and a 21-inch monitor for the computer I do not really need (including overnight shipping less than $200.00). What can I say, I learned the secret to on-line auction sites like Ubid, a willingness to stay up into the wee hours of the morning to get a good deal – you know that time of day when normal people are asleep.

I know what you are thinking, “but that is only $625.00 you said over $1000.00.” That I did and that I spent. As I am sure you know you have to really watch an auction to make sure you get the item, so what do you do while you wait. Well that is easy, to add insult to financial injury, you go to Amazon the one place you know will have everything you want and don’t really need. I started browsing and saw a DVD here, a book there, a game for my Gamecube, etc… until when I checked out the bill was $445.62 yes folks that is addition for you.

Oh well, I get paid next week. At least I can pay off what I just spent. Now, I wonder what size of big screen to buy?

I think we all search for meaning in life and in that search for meaning we seek our truths in many ways. Some seek truth in life – others death. Some seek it through thought – others dreams (Okay so enough of the philosophical stuff). Actually I am just looking for an excuse to talk about the f***ed up dreams that I have been having lately. I swear, one would think that I was on drugs the way they have been going lately. You have to see I am a person that very rarely has recall of dreams, but when I do they tend to be greatly disturbing and prophetic (nothing earth shattering like the secret blend of herbs and spices at KFC ) – what were you thinking I was the second coming of Nostradamus. Well in the past few days I have had some dreams for which I am still attempting to discern their meaning – or just generally getting a good laugh from them.
While taking a nap earlier today I had a dream involving a squirrel. In the dream I awoke to a squirrel using its tail to tickle my nose and wake me. When I awoke the squirrel jumped off my head and onto a chair in my bedroom. The squirrel then put its front leg/arm up to its mouth and made a shhhhhhh sound – then it whispered that you must not talk that they would find us. He then proceeded to use his tail to write on my wall in this glowing green writing. He wrote that his name was “Alamanter” and wrote that he had an important message to give me. He then floated in the air and spun around really fast and erased what had previously been written on the wall. Then again the squirrel wrote on the wall and this time his message was “The marlins are coming you must prepare yourself – Beware the marlins”. He then jumped onto the window sill and whispered “Remember the marlins and be prepared or you too shall die”. He then jumped out the window – I then looked back at the wall and the writing was gone – nothing was left to show that he had been there. I looked back at the window and saw a shadow of Alamanter climbing the tree outside my bedroom and then fell back to sleep. Any interpretations or have I simply lost my marbles.
Tuesday night I had a dream that I was being chased by the female residents of my building. They were carrying pitchforks and torches and were chasing me in a scene right out of Frankenstein. They were all screaming to give them the paper that they must have the paper. I was running as fast as I could go trying to get away from them as I had no paper and didn’t know what they wanted. When they caught me they tied me to a stake and used a pile of toilet paper to burn me as they stood reading a copy of the most recent campus newspaper – it had me on the front page – so I was staring at dozens of pictures of me as I was being burned to death with toilet paper. (Gee I wonder if this has anything to do with the fact that the housekeepers don’t give my female students any toilet paper unless I start screaming at their supervisor).
The last has been a reoccurring dream over the last couple of weeks. I am doing rounds through my building and I keep hitting my head on the ceiling but I don’t realize why. I then realize that I am running late for a meeting with my boss and am trying to hurry across campus to get there. As I rush there I look down and realize that I am sort of hovering about the ground and floating towards the building. I suddenly freak out that students will notice and I look around me and nobody is looking at me as though anything is unusual. I then see a student running toward me yelling for me to wait. I stop just hovering about 3 feet off the ground and the student comes over to me asking for a room change from the fourth floor to the first floor due to a fear of heights – I tell the student to come see me later that day and then set off again floating towards my meeting. I get to the building and to save time I simply float straight up the side of the building to her window and go into her office via the open window. She doesn’t seem to think it strange that I floated into a meeting and just continues to talk.
Okay it is now time to sleep and see what else I can dream up tonight.

I have to say that I am sooooo glad that I am not a female. (Don’t get me wrong I love all my female friends, but it is so much easier being a male. Okay, so where did this come from – well I have been having a little issue lately with my housekeeping staff – they don’t bring my ladies enough toilet paper. I have started using them to set my clocks – every day at 11:30PM and 9:00AM I get a flood of calls that there is no toilet paper. I have been going back and forth with the housekeepers for 2 weeks now about the whole TP issue and then Monday came and I didn’t get any calls. So here I am all happy that they finally got their act together and started getting things right – well I was wrong. I was talking to one of my staff and was asking her if everything was all sorted out with the toilet paper and she told me that it was worse than ever – they hadn’t had any since early that morning. So naturally I asked what they were doing when they went to the bathroom and she told me that they had gotten a huge stack of newspapers when they came out that morning and that they were set for the day. She went on to tell me that they were softer than the school’s TP anyway so the girls were happy. The immense irony of my life – guess whose picture was on the front of the newspaper – that’s right mine. So my ladies have been wiping themselves on an article about me and my time here. Can there be a bigger insult than someone wiping their dirty butt on your face – even if it is just a picture.