I am not a sweet, innocent baby. I am an adult woman who is very naughty at times.

Another way to insult someone’s intelligence is to call them inappropriate pet names.  Pet names are things you call your boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, kids, pets, etc.  Sometimes, this extends across the boundaries of blood relation and into close family friends.  Words like “honey,” “sweetie,” “baby,” etc.  For instance, I see some really kind celebrities on Twitter call their fans by these pet names and I do not think that is inappropriate.  Pet names can indicate a presence of affection for the person being called one by the person dubbing them “baby” or “sweetie.”  It can be very endearing to call someone a pet name or to be called a pet name.  It kind of makes people purr sometimes.

Times it is inappropriate are when you are at work or talking to someone you don’t know well.  It’s almost like this person is, in a roundabout way, putting you down by calling you something usually reserved for someone you know well at the very least.  Not only is it inappropriate, but it can be grounds for a sexual harassment lawsuit if a boss calls a subordinate “sweetie.”  Unless, of course, your office is not keen on sexual harassment laws and has very different policies in place, in which case it probably is not an office at all and is either a brothel or strip club.  This blog does not apply to those folks.

Instead, I am trying to appeal to the person who is constantly patronized by an extremely annoying, overly affectionate stranger.  The person who tries to insult your intelligence by calling you “baby” all the time instead of using your first name, as would be done if said annoying stranger had any amount of couth at all.  Usually, these strangers think that by calling you “baby” or “sweetie” you will be like putty in their hands, and the saddest part is that most people fall for that, empowering these idiots who never learned how to properly address other people.

The next time I am confronted by one of these strangers who have trouble pronouncing my first name (which is incredibly simple to do; by the way), I am going to call them what they deserve to be called, which is “Grandma.”  The reason I say “Grandma” is because 90% of the time, these strangers are female (with severe inferiority complexes) and the 10% of strange men who do this are usually too creepy to even continue talking to.  Yes, the fakeness is just nauseating.  Don’t call me “baby” if you don’t know me and are not having sex with me, unless you want me to (affectionately) call you “Grandma” or “Granny.”

See Whitney Houston Wednesday.

I felt so depressed and angry with myself but it was not something that I could predict.  I had no idea Whitney Houston was going to die, and feel terrible that she did like right after I posted that blog.  In any event, that blog has gotten the most hits out of all my freaking blogs, and I’m really glad people see that I was not making fun of her situation, just the way her looks have deteriorated because she abused illegal drugs (not crack).

P.S.  She died from drowning, not from a drug overdose or a heart attack.  There’s an article about it on CNN.  Just look it up, will ya?!

TODAY WILL BE A BETTER DAY, AND NO ONE IS GOING TO DIE BECAUSE I SAID SO!!

Remember the Cosby Show?  Maybe you’re too young to, but whatever.  It was awesome for us kids growing up in the 80s and even the 90s when the re-runs were still on television.

TODAY IS THEO HUXTABLE THURSDAY.

Let’s learn more about Theo Huxtable.

Theo Huxtable was a character on the Cosby Show, not an actual person, but a cool enough character that he deserves his own damn day.  Theo Huxtable’s real name is Malcolm-Jamal Warner and he is 41 years old now.  See Wikipedia for more information.

THE THURSDAY THAT THWARTS OTHER THURSDAYS HAS ARRIVED!!

THICK THONGS!!  IT’S THEO HUXTABLE THURSDAY!!

Here are some pictures of the man himself, then and now.

Two boneless skinless chicken breasts, thawed
3 cups chunky medium salsa
3 cups water
1 cup shredded muenster cheese
1 can of chili hot beans
1 can of black beans
1 can of sweet corn

Preparation:

Cut chicken breasts in half, giving you four pieces of chicken. Shred muenster cheese.

Cooking:

In a crock pot, combine chicken, salsa, water and cheese. Cook on high for 4-6 hours. Refrigerate overnight. The following day, add corn, chili beans and black beans. Cook on high 4 hours, stirring frequently.

One cup is one serving, serves about 12. Refrigerate or freeze any leftovers. Good with buttered wheat toast or saltine crackers.

Fractal Art by Vicky Brago-Mitchell

Mush, created by the perpetual denial of inappropriate thoughts which sometimes just come out of nowhere.  Trying frantically to maintain some sort of order…succeeding at times but mostly, failing.

You can control your thoughts, I can control my thoughts, but sometimes these thoughts creep into your mind without reason, want or even provocation.  I guess I could call these thoughts demons, but then wouldn’t I be crazy?

http://www.demonic.name/

Maybe not, but I think that I would be.  Maybe I already am…  Crazy, that is.

Wrestling the demons of your mind, do you seem to find that you occasionally embrace the demon and pray for forgiveness, or am I the only one?

http://www.tutoriallounge.com/2009/04/19-fantasy-tutorial-collections/

I am not the only one, I can’t be.  What kind of hypocrisy is that?  It is egotistical and ridiculous.

I AM NOT ALONE!  YOU DO THIS TOO!

http://lifeboat.com/ex/shouting.at.the.cosmos

In the wake of disaster, there are plenty of pleasantries the mind can willfully conjure, but in the midst of the sin, there is only more evil to be imagined.

My mind is a prison…

Created by me for the unruly thoughts and visions I fight, capture, convict and sentence…

You cannot judge me…

For I have already judged myself.

You…

Have…

No…

Power…

Over…

Me…

What do you dream about?

That’s where these come in.

Maybe I’m writing this because I have really felt the need to see his grave again, and I will this summer, because I haven’t been back to it since I was 17.  Or maybe it is because I feel like he might be proud of me, and maybe this is my way of letting him know?  Can the dead read blogs?

In any event, I miss my dad all the time, I just don’t dwell on it like I used to.  My dad’s death took a huge toll on me and really shaped my teenage years.  Having a father dying of AIDS is something no child should have to ever experience, but I did, and I think I can safely say I have finally made peace with it.

Last year on March 9, it was the 20th anniversary of my father’s passing.  At 7:30PM in a Panorama City hospice, March 9, 1991, my father died of AIDS while I stood by him, holding his left knee.  I didn’t think it was real, and thought he was playing a prank.  He was a big prankster, and I thought this was a big joke, but obviously, it wasn’t.

Me and my dad didn’t always have a great relationship, but I was definitely loyal to him and I still am.  If it were not for my dad, I would not be where I am today.  My dad is my inspiration to do better all the time, because that’s how he was.  He worked hard for everything he had and in the end, that’s the legacy he left me with.

This year, I want to be happy.  I don’t want to remember that moment 21 years ago and I want to celebrate life because I know my dad would want that.  He would want me to be happy and successful, so I guess this is my way of honoring that.  It’s Valentine’s Day, and I am writing a blog to my dad because I never got the chance to say I loved him while he was dying.  I took it really hard, and I avoided him most of the time, but in the end, I was there.  I was the only one of his four children in the room with him as he took his last breath.  I don’t want to remember him like that anymore.

I want to remember him as he was when he was well.  I want to remember his laugh, what his voice sounded like and the kind of music he listened to when we would take road trips from California to Arizona all the time.  I want to remember how mad he would get if I farted and how he would talk in funny voices saying he was an alien named Sammy the Spaceman with a girlfriend named Sally the Spacegirl.  I want to remember how he sat me on his lap when I was 10 years old and told me not to let boys do things to me because I was becoming pretty.  Most of all, I want to remember how he used to pretend he was Santa on Christmas morning and wake me up by yelling, “Ho Ho Ho!” from the living room.  I want to remember the good times.

I remember the bad times too, but that’s part of life and without them, I wouldn’t be able to appreciate the good times.

He liked to be called Bob.  His name was Robert.  I just called him Dad or Daddy.

I love you, Daddy!  :)

Slim Whitman, “I Remember You”

Here are a few pictures of me when I was a little kid, too.  :)

Note: You might want to close this right now if your heart rate goes bonkers over liberal thinking.

Ahem…

I am not really active in politics or religion, but if one were to classify my beliefs and viewpoints, they could do so labeling them as highly spiritual and liberal. I care about politics and religion, but I don’t let it get to the point where I see someone with differing opinions and judge them or speak harshly of them.

Basically, this entire blog can be considered a viewpoint from an outsider, but a human nonetheless.

An interesting trend I see on numerous occasions is certain folks who are irreparably conservative but stake the claim that Christianity is largely comprised of the same beliefs. This really does not make sense to me, being a liberal, because for one, church and state are distinctly separated for a reason: to refrain from shoving a religion down the unsuspecting throats of others, like the early colonists did to Native Americans. Like so many others before who have used and manipulated religion to further their own means. Why then, is it necessary for some conservative political extremists to use the word of God to justify acts of barbarism?

Criminals which have been put to death seem to be just as guilty of “hiding behind God” when they are asked for their final statements. Hell, even prisoners serving a few years are mostly made up of born again Christians.

Before you accuse me of atheism, witchcraft, or worse, satanism, remember at the beginning I told you I was liberal?

Something else that has always bothered me is not only am I judged for being female, but any right-wing conservatives reading this just judged me for my political beliefs. Honestly, I have never known a liberal to be as judgmental as conservatives can be.

In any event, I do not believe Jesus was a conservative either. If Jesus were alive today, he would be a long-haired liberal hippy who would likely be politically crucified by conservatives for his forgiving nature.

I don’t like the saying, “If you’re liberal after 30, you’re just dumb.” Jesus was 33 when he was crucified. Was he “dumb” for being nailed to the cross for his beliefs?

Anyway, just some food for thought.

Leave comments no matter what end of the political spectrum you’re on or what belief system you subscribe to. I respect all viewpoints and unless you’re spewing hate, your comment will be approved.

Mostly recorded by me, inebriated, back in 2007 before sobriety was my thing.

I forgot about these, but apparently they have been getting some click action on YouTube in the last five years.

Here are some: