natik1483

Nawti and I decided that yesterday was our 10th anniversary of meeting face to face. We met online when she came into #truthdare on IRC EFNET, in November or December of 1995. I was in New Haven Connecticut, I had lived there for 30 years. I had made a serious attempt at suicide the previous May, a few days after my 35th birthday. I learned things about nawti. She had a violent, domineering, and abusive husband. One night she woke up, she was drunk, he was shoving a gun in her mouth, he pulled the trigger. It didn't fire. He did something, she did something, not clear. He put down the gun. She picked it up and through it out the door into the street. He ran out into the street naked to get the gun. She locked the door and dialed 911.They arrested him. Next morning she drove to the jail and bailed him out. Her judgement was that not bailing him out was a lot more dangerous because he would be a lot madder the longer it took for him to get out. She also knew that the money to pay for a defense lawyer would be her money from her student loans. She declined to cooperate with the prosecution. Any consequences he suffered were minor.This was late November 95, neighborhood of Thanksgiving. She thinks she didn't meet me in #truthdare until sometime after that incident, which put it in December, but I thought it was earlier.By January or February we were doing netsex and phonesex. She was in a PhD program at a school not terribly far from the Maumee River. She had arranged to do a field study for a month in Maine. She told me she could stop in New Haven to meet me on the way there. That's not til May, I said. Sounds like fun, but I'll probably kill myself before then.I was miserable but passive. I had good reason to believe that I would never again be able to hold a job, or support myself, or be competent, or follow any sort of project to completion, or be free from pain. I had been in therapy since 1979, on medication since ... 1981? I was making it from one day to the next, but I knew that one day fairly soon the level of misery and pain would go high enough to push me over the threshold of passivity into action.My first attempt failed because I chose the wrong tool. My method was sound, I think. I used a razor blade, what they used to call a double edged blade that fit into what they used to call a safety razor. The two edges weren't stacked. They were on opposite edges of a very thin piece of steel. The steel was a rectangle about the size of small sticky note pad or large postage stamp. By the miracle of the internet, I can link to a helpful page: http://www.geocities.com/safetyrazors/blades/DEBladePage.htm I held the blade in my hand, pressed down firmly at a point just below and behind my ear, and cut across to the front of my throat. I wanted to cut open one of the carotid arteries and bleed quickly to death. I didn't press hard across my larynx because I didn't want to violently choke and gasp and suck blood into my lungs while thrashing on the floor. It didn't work. I had sliced open the flesh but I wasn't spurting out blood. I tried again. I tried cutting a high path, just under my jaw. I tried cutting a low path. I tried on the other side of my face.I had chosen the wrong tool. It didn't go deep enough. I thought that the key factor was sharpness, I needed stiffness and a blade shape that would allow me to penetrate deeper while cutting forward. I didn't have anything like that handy. My throat was starting to hurt, but I wasn't dying. I picked up the phone and dialed 911. They didn't believe me but sent a cop out anyway because that was procedure.That was May 95, and in early 1996 Nawti said she would visit in May 96. I really didn't expect that I would last until then. I'm not sure exactly when I bought the shotgun. Maybe February, maybe March. I think possibly I shopped for it in February and picked one out at a gun shop. I didn't have a car anymore, and did it one day when I had a chance to borrow my father's car. At the gun shop there was a waiting period. I had thought that was only for handguns, but Connecticut had one in place at that time for long guns also. I put a deposit down. It was several weeks before I borrowed the car again and picked up the shotgun and brought it home. The clerk sold me some shells loaded with turkey shot and some with a single large bullet called a sabot. I had wanted buckshot, but they didn't carry any. Around the beginning of May I asked my father if I could have my birthday present early. I wanted a queen sized bed, I said. I was expecting a visitor. He bought the bed. He helped me clean the one room apartment he had rented for me. On May 17 nawti came to New Haven. I was very eager, and had been waiting since morning. She came when it was dark and raining. I saw her car pull in and decided it had to be her, and walked through the rain to meet her. She pulled me into a kiss and wouldn't let go. I told her that we had to go inside. We went inside.She was there for three nights, and had to move on. There was also a fellow she was meeting in Boston. From there she went on to Maine. She came back to visit on Memorial Day weekend. We took the train into Manhattan. We made out in the Central Park Zoo while the crowd was watching them feed the sea lions. We walked through Greenwich Village. She bought me a leather vest that I prize and wear shirtless when the weather is hot.A week or ten days later I took Greyhound to Portland Maine. Maybe it wasn't Greyhound, there were other bus lines. Maybe it wasn't Portland. There were two different bus terminals used by the different lines, and I was waiting at one while she was waiting for me at the other. Eventually she found me.She drove through woods and pulled the car off to the side of the road and made me lie down in the long grass while she climbed on top of me and mosquitoes feasted on my flesh. It sounded great in concept, but I wished I'd had some Cutter's.At the end of her second visit she told me that she had decided to file for divorce, and had already called a lawyer in Ohio. By the end of my visit to her we had decided that I would move to Ohio and move in with her.Things got interesting. She went back home to tell her husband and throw him out. Turns out he already had someone on the side and was ready to go. At the end of June she came back to New Haven, and we moved with my stereo and some clothes to Bowling Green Ohio. Fourth of July, 1996, we cut through a cemetery walking to see the fireworks. One the way back she laid down a blanket there in the cemetery and climbed on top of me again. The setting was odd but the mosquitoes stayed off me.

Hmmmm... what's wrong with this picture? O thus be it ever when free-men shall stand between their lov'd home and the war's desolation. Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land praise the Pow'r that hath made and preserv'd us a nation! Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, and this be our motto: In God is our trust! And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!Of course, we don't sing this verse any more. That whole "when our cause it is just" requirement would take all the fun out of conquering. http://www.v-a.com/communication/star-spangled-banner.html*daha*

I didn't notice restaurants with iced tea urns back when I lived in New Haven. When I made it to Ohio and then Missouri, I realized that people here take their iced tea seriously. The restaurants have special urns to the brew the tea from ... tea leaves! They look like this: http://www.acitydiscount.com/local_pics/ebaypics/peachtrader/n44386.jpg .But now I've been noticing a bunch of ice tea urns that look more or less like that ... except they're fakes! The only working part is the spigot, which is hooked up to a hose which feeds in the same syrup + water mix you'll find coming out of soda dispensers.Cheaters! Cheaters! Cheaters!*daha*

meme via miwasatoshi via mactavishInstructions:Reply to this entry by posting a picture of yourself in the comments, then post this sentence in your own journal.Warning: It's possible that the responses to this post will take a long time to load.Also: If you post a pic that's more than, oh, 500x500, please post the link to it rather than the pic itself.

I saw a dually pickup truck the other day. That's the kind with double wheels in back. Two axels. Two wheels in front. Four wheels on the rear axel, two on the left, two on the right.It had a big graphic on the back. "4 X 4".I counted the wheels again. All six of them.4 X 4 means 4 wheels, all four wheels driven by the engine.But the truck had six wheels.*daha*

The New York City FBI office doesn't have the funding to provide .gov email accounts to all their agents and analysts, but they are hoping they'll issue the accounts by the end of the year. They apparently have secure internal mail, but not email."As ridiculous as this might sound, we have real money issues right now, and the government is reluctant to give all agents and analysts dot-gov accounts," Mark Mershon said when asked about the gap at a New York Daily News editorial board meeting."We just don't have the money, and that is an endless stream of complaints that come from the field," he said.Source: http://www.cnn.com/2006/LAW/03/20/fbi.email.ap/index.htmlvia http://newsoftheweird.blogspot.com *daha*

Trying to remember some things I kept telling myself to remember to add...Cartoon Network runs a show called The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy. Y'see, there's these two kids, a really obnoxious stupid gross boy and a snarky sarcastic bitchy girl, and their best friend, Grim, who is Death, the grim reaper. Y'see, he'd come to reap Billy's hamster once, and they made a bet with Death and if he lost, he'd have to be their best friend for ever, and also spare the hamster.Lots of fun stuff on the show, and many references to things the adults will get and the kid viewers won't. For instance, there's the Cthulhu episode.And then there's the episode which starts off to Mandy intoning "do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law".I wonder if the shirts who approved the script at the network had the faintest idea. You see, this isn't the softened Wiccan/pagan version, which is "An' it harms none, do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law". Nope. This is the full-fledged, no-holds-barred Aleister Crowley version held dear by the Satanists.I wonder if the shirts know.- - - -I'm going to have to get around writing up something about wife-beating in Desert Island Decameron. This book is a collection of short stories, mostly intended as humor, edited by H. Allen Smith and published in 1945. I bought a copy at a library sale. Popular Special SP102. $0.50. 4th printing.40 pieces in the book. I haven't read them all. One of them is an O. Henry called "A Harlem Tragedy". The tragedy, it turns out, is that the unlucky wife's husband refuses to beat her, no matter how she provokes him. And because he never beats her, he never makes up for beating her by buying her fancy dinners or flowers or furs or jewelry.Another is "There Ought To Be a Law" by Nunnally Johnson. Someone calls the police to report a screaming woman, and when the cop bursts in the door he finds the husband strangling the wife. The cop is sympathetic to her, until the husband tells his tale: his wife constantly rearranges the furniture, and that night he'd leaped into a bed that wasn't there anymore, and hit the floor hard. All sympathy from the male police officers and building superintendent switches to the husband, but the wife insists on pressing charges and the cop reluctantly hauls the husband away. At trial, the husband tells his sad story of putting up with obsessive rearranging of furniture. Some of it is quite funny. "That big chair of mine that I had before I was married was never moved two inches during the whole ten years I had it; about the only way I can sit in it now is sort of hop on it as it goes by, hoping it won't be carried up or down any steps." The judge and prosecutor interrupt him to tell their own sufferings from wifely furniture rearranging. The jury, composed of ten men and two women, is deadlocked 10-2 in favor of acquittal, and the judge dismisses the charge. Case closed.Both these stories are in a section called "Domestic Science".A third story is about prostitutes living in a whorehouse. One of them has died, and the woman's mother is coming to see the house where she worked. Mom doesn't know what her daughter did for a living, so the surviving women have to spend a week pretending to be normal. At the end of the visit, one of the women gets drunk and gives out too many clues. The final lines of the story are: "With unhurried but terrible deliberation Mag, nearest friend of Luce, marched back inside the house, unscrewed the wooden handle out of the feather duster, and going upstairs, beat Sadie sober. Then she ordered up champagne for seven." The story is "Daughters of Joy" by Barry Benefield.Mind you, this third story is about woman-on-woman violence, so it doesn't fit my theme of wife-beating, but I've read less than half the book so far.*daha*

Here's a little bit taken from the middle of what flea wrote.I bring up Hugh Thompson because he exemplifies the kind of man your father and I want you to be. Thompson was a man who, even at his young age, knew what your Dad and I want you to know above all things: It is your responsibility, as a man, to protect those who can not protect themselves. If you fail at this, you have failed as a human being.Despite the middle, the beginning and the end will surprise you. You'll be glad you read it, but sad. Read the whole thing at http://buggydoo.blogspot.com/2006/03/letter-to-alex-and-chris-twelve-years.html flea is very cool. She has a great journal at http://buggydoo.blogspot.com . She and her husband run a great sex-toy store at http://www.honeysuckleshop.com .*daha*

In the February 27 2006 issue of the New Yorker is an article by Jane Mayer on the former head lawyer for the Navy, Alberto Mora, fought a losing battle against the White House and Pentagon policies over torture. Mora was against it, they were for it.The article is worth reading. Also worth reading as a first source is Mora's memo setting out the history of torture as conducted by the US and how the torture violated US and international law.The article is here: http://www.newyorker.com/fact/content/?060227fa_fact The memo itself, which was published online but not in the print magazine, is .pdf format here: http://www.newyorker.com/images/pdfs/moramemo.pdf

I wrote to Dear Abby today. She missed a fine opportunity to recommend swinging to one of her horny readers, and she blew it. First, here's the question and answer from her column.From the Dear Abby column at http://news.yahoo.com/s/ucda/20060224/lf_ucda/racypicturesfuelfantasiesaboutfriendshunkyhusbandDEAR ABBY: I was visiting my friend, "Carla," last week and arrived a little early on our way to go shopping. While I was waiting for her to dress, I noticed some photographs on her kitchen counter. I browsed through them and was shocked to see they were pictures of Carla and her husband, "Cesare," naked, in various positions and stages.Cesare has always flirted with me. He has even suggested on a couple of occasions that he'd like to take me out. Of course, I deflected his advances.But now, after seeing these pictures, I am torn. Cesare is extremely "manly." My husband is a kind and gentle person, but he has nothing close to what Cesare has to offer. Now, whenever I see Carla's husband, I flash back to those pictures and can't help fantasizing about what it would be like to be with him. This has begun to affect my sex life with my husband. I know it's wrong, but I can't help it.Should I tell Carla I saw the pictures? Should I tell her that Cesare has been coming on to me? Help! -- TEMPTED IN CAROLINADEAR TEMPTED: I see nothing to be gained by telling your friend you saw the pictures, nor do I think it would help the situation to tell her that her husband has been coming on to you. The fantasy in which you are indulging is a common one, but let's get real here -- not all daydreams make for a pleasant reality. My advice is to snap out of it and find something else to occupy your mind, because from my perspective, it seems you have too much time on your hands. Here's what I wrote back to Abby:Dear Abby,Tempted In California said she looked through a stack of photos of her friend Carla having sex with Carlas husband Cesare, and now she is fighting the temptation to have sex with Cesare.My guess is that Carla left those pictures out on purpose. I think Carla and Cesare are swingers who have sex with other married couples, and this was their way of breaking the ice.Tempted in California should feel out her husband to see if he would be interested in swinging. If he is, they can approach Carla and Cesare. If Carla and Cesare dont play that way, there are many ways to find other couples available for sex.By working with her husband to find available sex partners outside the marriage, Carla can explore her fantasies without cheating, lying, or feeling guilty.*daha*

"Dad, did you just sneeze in my cereal?""Well no," I explained. "I sneezed while I was pouring milk into your cereal, but I turned my head to the side so I didn't sneeze -into- your cereal. Your cereal is okay."He accepted that explanation, and part of me accepts it too, but part of me thinks I might be going to hell over this.*daha*

To me this is a big deal. Noam Chomsky will be speaking in Columbia, for free! Obviously not so much a big deal for the powers that be at the University, because they're putting him in the Missouri Theatre and not a large space.Noam Chomsky to deliver the 2006 Peace Perspectives Lecture, "Democracy Promotion: Reflections on Intellectuals and the State" (Announcement sponsored by Peace Studies Program and MSA/GPC)Monday, February 27, 2006 at 7:00 p.m. Historic Missouri Theatre, 203 S. Ninth St., downtown district of Columbia. This event is free and open to the public,however, TICKETS ARE REQUIRED, and may be picked up at the MSA/GPC box office inside Brady Commons at MU or at the Missouri Theatre. Noam Chomsky is Professor of Linguistics and Philosophy at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, where he has remained since joining the faculty in 1955. Chomsky has written and lectured widely on linguistics, philosophy, intellectual history, contemporary issues, international affairs and U.S. foreign policy. The New York Times has referred to Chomsky as "arguably the most important intellectual alive."*daha*

Gotta do it. Every time we try this recipe in a bread machine we are astounded by how good the bread turns out. And you know I'm not a recipe-posting guy.Usual bread machine tips apply. For the flour, use a measuring cup that holds exactly one cup to the top edge, then *pour* the flour into the cup, then drag a knife edge across the top to level it out flat. For liquids, put the cup down on a flat surface to read, and bring your eye level with the measurement line. Liquids can be room temperature or cooler, don't heat them up past 85F. If they feel at all warm they're too hot.This is from the book Better Homes and Gardens Best Bread Machine Recipes. There is no author credited. Or possibly the book title is Best Bread Machine Recipes and the author is Better Homes and Gardens. Here we go. Editor is Jennifer Darling. (c) 1977 by Meredith Corporation.If you have bread machine flour and yeast on hand, the only thing you might have to run out and buy is potato flakes. These are your basic instant mashed potatoes - the kind where you measure out portions from a large box, not the flavored single-use packs. Yes, this is a potato bread, but it doesn't taste at all of potatoes. It is just good bread. The recipe does NOT use a full packet of yeast, so if all the yeast you have is in little envelopes, you'll need to measure some from one of them and toss out the remainder.Potato Bread. --Basic White Cycle-- For the 1.5 lb recipe your pan has to hold at least ten cups, for 2.0 lbs you need 12 cup capacity.1.5 pound recipe1/2 cup water2/3 cup milk1 egg2 tablespoons cut up margarine, butter, or shortening3 cups bread flour1/2 cup instant mashed potato flakes or buds1 tablespoon sugar3/4 teaspoon salt1 teaspoon yeast2.0 pound recipe2/3 cup water3/4 cup milk1 egg3 tablespoons cut up margarine, butter, or shortening4 cups bread flour2/3 cup instant mashed potato buds or flakes4 teaspoons sugar1 teaspoon salt1 1/4 teaspoons yeast