Archives For rain

happy, happy, joy, joy

June 8, 2003 — 1 Comment

the rains are here and i think they are here to stay. the skies are grey, and it rained all morning. it’s a lovely thing to wake up to the sound of rain thundering down on your roof. it hasn’t done much for the heat. i’m sitting around in my boxers, the sweat pouring off my body. 

i was watching the mtv movie awards at a friends this morning and there were a couple things that bothered me… 

first – Tatu, could that performance be any more manufactured? i watched them and their entourage of women (some of whom appeared to have left school about the same time i did) in school girl uniforms, gyrate and ham it up for the audience. maybe something is right with me, but if it was supposed to titillate, it didn’t i just thought none of the gay women i know behave like that. it was just a show for the desperate young men who think the jiggle of a bra less breast or the hint of a hardening nipple is the holy grail. 

which brings me to my second point, is there a shortage of bras in hollywood? or is it just to help mtv? 

on to my third and final point, this is going to be long, so sit back and get comfortable… 

what is it about dressing children, especially prepubescent girls like $2 crack whores and their pimps? 
these are little children, they don’t need to make hipster pants and bra tops in their sizes, because they lack either and if they do have them they should not be on display. over the last couple of days i’ve noticed this disturbing trend, from the little 8 year old who showed for a casting  in an (i do no lie) off the shoulder midriff top, denim mini and thigh high boots, to some little girl who won an award on the show in hipster pants that she had to keep pulling up because, you have no hips yet, little girl. sigh. maybe i’m old fashioned, but i have two girls. i’m not advocating bubbles and frilly smocks. i’m advocating comfort and childhood. jeans, tshirts, shorts, vests. the occasionally pretty dress when the occasion calls for it. 

my mother used to tell me, that it wasn’t so much delinquent children as delinquent parents. and i tend to agree, how can you dress you child like that? how can you willingly look at your child and think – hey, she looks like a small version of me, that’s good. IT’S NOT! this is not your younger sister or a barbie doll. this is a child, to which you as a parent bear some responsibility. 
and this is not just about the girls either, do you think dressing them like little thugs has no effect on their behaviour? 
sigh, the people that need to read this will never see it, but i just needed to get it off my chest. 

i’m going to give this movie my undivided attention, i’ll be back later with links and your moment of zen.

not the stop and start like it has for the last couple of weeks, the true torrential downpour, the seems like the heavens are crying. i can hear it beating on the roof of the building. constantly, i love that sound but it makes me so sad, i can run out and run about and feel the rain against my face and i can’t curl up in bed and whisper sweet nothings as the rain sounds plays it accompaniment. 

there is still nothing for me to do here at work and my boss has left me in charge, so being the exlemplar, i can’t duck work now, walk home in the rain, dump my wet clothes on the floor and crawl into bed. 

i’m seeing the edge of the black pit of despair and hearing it’s siren song. i should go work on the screenplay as promised, but i don’t have the energy. 

look forward to the weekend a voice in my head whispers (you know you have them too, so don’t give me that look, when you start having conversations with them, then worry), i’m going to a party tomorrow and then going to finish (or at least continue) my tattoo, on saturday. it’s also a f1 weekend, so in all, quite a number of distractions in all. 

that means i just have to get through this afternoon, all day tomorrow. not as easy as it sounds. wait i have a cheesy novel in my bag, aha, the afternoon’s entertainments just presented itself. 


thank you keith knight.
i’m already late for work this morning but i’m going to call santo domingo this morning. i’m sitting here catching up.

and now the news in brief:

Rumsfeld’s Dr. Strangelove

Bob Graham Alleges a 9/11 ‘Coverup’

Professional demotivators (as if we really need this)

always end on a high note:

Happy Fun Pundit’s Top 10 Thing I Hate About Star Trek

there was something i saw last night but i can’t remember what it was, but as soon as i do, it will be here. and as promised my rain poem, titled funnily enough – rain

come rain beat your timeless tattoo on my skin. caress my warm dark skin with your millions of cool, tiny fingers entice me with the pungent aroma you release lull me, compose me with the drumbeat that is sometimes gentle or staccato but most of all rain love me.

i’ll be back in a few mintues with news from my personal bureaucratic hell

the rains have begun. you haven’t lived til you’ve stood and felt warm caribbean rain falling on your face.

it’s raining now and i can hear it beating on the galvanised sheets on the roof. it’s one of the most soothing sounds in the world, makes you want to be curled up in the arms of your honey and wasting the day away. a long time ago i wrote my first and only rain poem, i think in tribute of the first day of the rainy season, i’ll include it here. (if i can just find the damn thing…)

ok, after some searching i can’t seem to find it on my computer, it’s probably on backed up on a cd somewhere. i’ll post it later.

back to the search for images.

well, it appears that the dry season is now officially over. i’m sitting here listening to the rain beat a tattoo on the roof. i love the rain, the sound on the roof, the smell of hot asphalt after the rain falls, cars swishing by in the wet.

it hasn’t done anything for the heat, it’s still sweltering here. now we’re just hot and wet.

good vibes has updated the masturbation month page, the theme this year is “I’d rather be masturbating.”, cute although i’m indulging because i’m not getting any, although mutual masturbation is quite lovely.

can anyone explain to me why in this day and age, it still takes anything to three weeks to get from one end of the caribbean to another or why in an organisation the siz and scope of the INS or as it’s now known, the department of homeland security immigraiton division, why there aren’t back up systems?

you can’t tell me where my application is because the system is down?
what the fuck is that? and you don’t know when it will be back up?
and i can’t get pissed off at these people, because they hold my fucking life in their hands. i don’t even know if it’s safe to vent online.

sigh, i’m going to play in the rain, something has to make this day better.