You don't really need to clink on that link. I'll lay it down for you right here (all typos are [sic]):
Hi everybody:-D I'm posting because it's generally tough to find other Christians with similar interests. I work hard and like to play hard. I love reading, horse back riding, music, and spending time with friends and family. While I am a virgin, and I plan to remain so until marriage, I am fun-loving and adventurous in MANY ways ;-). I've posted some pictures to show you who you'll be writing. I'm not looking for anyone specific, I just want a good-hearted, kind, intelligent, and thoughtful man who won't find my decision to remain a virgin a scary one.
OK. Cool. The little smilies are pretty annoying. I'm pretty down with the virginity thing. I find it 100% unlame to be that dedicated to your faith. No, seriously. I'm not being sarcastic. But for a virgin, the "adventurous in many ways" accompanied with a wink; that's a bit of a mixed signal.
But not as much of a mixed signal as this:
There are so many problems I have with this. All these problems are obvious so I won't go on a 2,000 word rant. I will say this: you'd expect a Christian virgin to be a little shy about asking someone to take a picture of her on all fours with her ass sticking in the air.
Is that what she meant be "adventurous?" Is she one of those "anal sex doesn't count Christians?" Man, those are the best. I hope there is a Hell just so I can be there with them. At least I won't act surprised when I get there.
Well, I'm glad this lady posted this. If she wants to make Christianity look bad, then she deserves the avalanche of pictures of erect penises that are flooding her inbox. (Or her "outbox," bah-dum-bum-ching. I would have gone with "*rimshot*" to signify that I made an assfucking joke, but that would have been far too easy.)
To be honest, I was hoping to conclude this post by saying "Ugh, she's from Rockville, figures." But, I live in Northern Bethesda. So who am I to judge? I'll leave the judging to a higher power.
In high school, I was a political nerd. I don't know how it happened. It probably had something to do with my extra-curricular activities. I did a lot of legislative debate; a form of debate my coach entered me into because of my ability to speak emphatically (or my ability to just be louder than anyone else). I did a lot of research on politics and it's something that I truly found enjoyable.
Obviously, if you like politics, then DC was the place to be. I could intern on the Hill! I could shake hands with the very people who are responsible for daily American life! Etc., etc., etc.
Boy, that was naive.
I "decided" on American University (by getting rejected by GW, which, looking back at my transcript, I still think is bullshit) and prepared myself for a great life in politics. I knew that I would be a small fish in a much bigger pond, but I was special! I could make a difference!!
I get to school and run into my first obstacle. Most people who go to DC for politics are total douchebags. A bunch of ladder-climbers with no regard for reason or compromise. Many of them had no grasp on any of the important issues. I once had to explain to a young conservative why Congress just can't make abortion illegal. I mean, Jesus Christ.
Of course, they were all go-getters. They all immediately got internships and started padding their resumes. I, on the other hand, found an internship to be an impossibility. Internships, obviously, don't pay very well. It turns out that DC isn't the easiest place to live when you have no income. So while my rivals were stamping envelops for Representative Doe, I was filleting fish at the local Whole Foods.
I finally got a Congressional internship in 2004, my senior year. My major required at least 20 hours a week for one semester. That was on top of the 24 hours of fish-cutting and the three other classes. But at least I'd finally see if I was cut out for politics.
And the answer was a resounding no.
I like to think of myself as a decent writer, but I am not nearly talented enough to convey how much I hated this internship using the written word. It was the worst experience of my life. A small office of 5 full-time employees working 60-hour-weeks with a low salary. As Democrats, it was safe to say that they were not making a difference. It was a stationary Bataan death march.
My two bosses, the chief-of-staff and the executive assistant, were probably the two worst people I have ever had to work for. Perhaps the two worst people I've ever met, period. The former would scream at you if you didn't staple papers in the center of the page. The latter was a bitter 28-year-old fat fraternity spawned man-child who used his position of power to abuse me as revenge for all of the other cocky kids who picked on him as a child. He loved making fun of the other interns behind their backs. Of course, that hardly works when the interns are relaying this information back to each other. Perhaps the worst offense of all was when this cock-head told me that I was a bad writer and my column in the student paper was a failure. This combination of pettiness, unprofessionalism, and spite chased me away from politics forever. I will always associate Capitol Hill with misery.
So I took some law classes at the end of my college career. I took the LSATs, cancelled my score, and am taking them again this year. This time I intend to study for more than a week. And now I work in a very small law firm that's really no different than hundreds of other firms in the area as a legal assistant. There's no hope for promotion or anything, but it pays the bills until I can get my act together and go to law school (hopefully in Boston or New York or NOT HERE). I'm really only sticking around because this is where my friends are.
When I look back at who I was in high school, I see someone totally different. Someone supremely confident and talented. And I see DC as having wasted my potential. Granted, I could have sucked it up and worked for free instead of cutting fish. Granted, I could have switched internships once I realized how sour my current one was. I know that I'm partially at fault here. But I marched into this city and I got spat back out as someone completely different. In DC, you basically have to be an arrogant asshole or a ladder-climber to make it. I couldn't cut it. So, I'm angry and bitter.
I am supremely glad that I now have an audience to let me vent. And anytime this city fucks up, I will be there to make sure people remember that we all live on a toxic swamp. The people here may be fine and dandy individually, but their collective attitude is one of indifference and/or disdain. Our politicians, locally and federally, are imbeciles. The Metro is a disaster. Everyday I am confronted by dozens of homeless people. Everything here stinks. And I am reminded of it everyday. Hopefully, with my help (which I doubt you'll need), you will be too.
Sample size of study: laughably small.
Yet, I certainly feel it accurately represents the attitude of the locals around here. (And I'm from Massachusetts, the American capitol of rudeness. Still, we at least say thank you when someone holds a door open for us.)
I saw such an occurrence today at the Dupont stop. This guy was legitimately sprinting. I was taking the same track, but I took it easy. I won't risk life and limb when the next train, according to the Metro display, was arriving in one minute. But, hey, he made his train. He got to wherever he was going one minute faster than I would have.
I find such physical exertions to be unnecessary. Take it easy, man. Even if you have a hot date, he/she will tolerate it if you are one minute late.
Of course, if I was taking the Wednesday 11pm train and I saw my train getting ready to leave, I would sprint like a motherfucker. I don't care if you're a pregnant amputee; if you are in between me and that train, I will run straight through you like a Mack truck.
I would rather have an injured pregnant amputee on my conscience than have to wait 16 minutes for a train again.
Greedy=extorting $611M from DC taxpayers. (And I know it's a business tax. Fine. Why can't we have a business tax that benefits all the undereducated in Anacostia? I've heard the schools there are kind of rough. I wouldn't know since I am too scared to even set foot there.)
Finally some good news to come out of this baseball fiasco: That Washington Nationals shirt you bought last April could be worth a lot of money soon.
(Unanswered question: How did you know, Mr. Landlord, that my computer was on? If I ever catch you in my room I will stab you in your sleep. I am not afraid to set up trip wire to catch you, you hick fuck.)
So, yeah, wooo Bethesda. But, to be fair, I still really don't know the area very well. Apparently there is a place called Wheaton nearby. I should check that out someday.
This past weekend I did a little bit of exploring in Downtown Bethesda. It marked the first time I used the Montgomery County bussing system. And let me tell you, it was a pleasure. The busses came on time. I know! Isn't that weird!? It was such a pleasant surprise to not see my bus being 30 minutes late with two other busses on the same line directly behind it.
And the busses were clean! And the drivers were polite! And why can't Washington, DC approach the top-notch job that the Montgomery busses are doing?
If only Montgomery County had its own subway line. That would be sweet.
See that title? Let me paste it again: transatlanticism.
Apparently DCeiver and DCist won't print the password to today's Cribs/Death Cab for Cutie/Franz Ferdinand pre-sale. Well, there it is:
I do not see what the big deal is here. DCeiver claims:
These pre-sales are always drama for me because of the gaggle of dipshits who resent people other than their friends finding out from DCist that they can buy tickets. I frequently pass this info on to DCist because their elitist arguments give me headaches.
Oh. For Christ's sake. "Drama"? Get over yourself.
"Pass the info on to DCist"? Like DCist doesn't already have that information. I am sure a blog dedicated to Washington, DC has an editor or contributor on the 9:30 Club mailing list. It's not like DCeiver has an inside source at the Daughters of the American Revolution doling out insider information.***
Here's a new rule: If there is information that I can get with literally zero effort, let's not treat it like it's the secret to the Lost numbers.
Also, if people actually get upset about "casual" fans learning a password to an Internet pre-sale, just eat a dick already. There's nothing I can say to you that will make you change or make me feel better. Just go into a hole and die and leave me alone.
The Death Cab/Franz show looks like it may be fun. The opportunity to achieve funness should be disseminated to the masses; especially in a boring city like DC.
Have fun at the pre-sale, kids. This one will sell-out quickly.
***Incidentally, I like DCeiver's blog. I'm not trying to start a blog war or anything. I would cherish the opportunity to share a drink and watch Lost with him. I check his site everyday hoping for an update. He's actually earned his relatively high readership. I got lucky with an essay contest.
I just can't believe people are acting like this over an Internet pre-sale. For the love of Pete.
UPDATE: So, naturally, it turns out that DCeiver actually works for DCist. He is the editor/contributor that is on the 9:30 mailing list and he is the one responsible for passing along passwords. Moral of the story: I'm an asshole. Sorry. Rookie mistake.
Although using the word "drama" because of an Internet pre-sale is still funny to me. And the people who actually get riled up over casual fans getting tickets should still be dead in holes.
UPDATE #2: I still refuse to call this "drama" because no one should allow an Internet pre-sale to turn into some weird Internet fight, but, lo and behold, DCist was hit with quite a few angry hipster comments. I can't believe people are getting this worked up about, and I can't stress this enough, AN INTERNET PRE-SALE.
So, the entire point of my original post is half-wrong (sorry again, DCeiver), but I found an entire new population of people to really despise. I hope Death Cab breaks up immediately after the show so that these crybabies ("Waaaaa! I didn't get a ticket yet and I liked Death Cab before the OC! Waaaah!") never again get the opportunity to see them play live.
A Valentine's Day sentiment for my favorite conservative commentator and fellow Montgomery County resident!
I was supposed to write "P.S. Let's get martinis sometime," but I forgot. So I kind of ruined the best part of the card. And now I want a martini.
Let it be noted how much I hate Valentine's Day. If I'm single, which is almost always, it makes me miserable. If I am not single (rare), I find myself forced to spend my hard-earned money on things like candy, flowers, etc. And these gifts are required. I get a girl flowers on August 14th, I get an "advance one free base" card. On February 14th, I get in trouble for not spending as much money as her friend's boyfriend or something ridiculous like that.
But it does means one month until a real holiday: St. Patty's Day. My liver quivers in anticipation.
Guess which parts of DC all the black people live in.
Full disclosure: I am white. However, if I were black, or any other minority, this shit would piss me off immensely.
I can't really blame DC for this, but it's certainly nice to live in a city where the racial disparities can be summed up in a two-color map.
UPDATE: Someone left a comment saying it doesn't matter what race you are, this is everyone's problem. I agree. I didn't make that clear. My bad.
This map makes me angry. If I were on the other side of the racial spectrum though, it would make me irate. This city is one of the few "minority-majority" cities in the country, and we can't take care of our own. That's such an embarassing problem. And, as this map shows, the problem is getting worse. It's unacceptable. DC will always be a second-rate city until people can survive east of the Capitol without dealing with crime, joblessness, etc.
And I read Kos's junk because, sometimes, they do my DC-hating for me.
Indeed, Kos caught The Washington Times plagarizing! Good work!
I hate how some Republicans will stubbornly read the Moonie Times because of the Post's "liberal bias." I'll deal with the "bias" in exchange for real journalism thank you very much.
Incidentally, the plagarizer is former Wonkette guest-blogger Eric Pfeiffer. Damn you, Gawker Media! If I can't trust your bloggers, who can I trust? Does Ana Marie Cox even exist!? Answer me!
Seriously, walking works. Wednesday night I made the walk from my job in the Golden Triangle area to Friendship Heights. Sure, my feet hurt from walking 4+ miles in my work shoes, but Metro would not have the opportunity to ruin my night.
That didn't make my night unruinable though. At around the Connecticut-Nebraska intersection, I came across a young male protester-type. I could tell he was against the war in Iraq by the gigantic "No War" sign he was holding. It was a big sign. Probably five feet in length. But this was no ordinary protestor. This was the Harlem Globetrotter of protestors. He was spinning the sign, flipping it around his shoulders, even twirling it in the air. It may sound trite, but it was impressive.
So impressive that some middle-aged gray haired man driving a middle-aged gray SUV (of course) took the time to stop his car on Connecticut, honk his horn, and flip the guy off. Totally unprovoked, naturally.
What a cocksucker. Some guy was just doing his thing, flipping a protest sign and amusing an audience. It's not like "No War" is some crazy Communist plot. Ask around and I'm sure you'll find that "No War" is becoming an increasingly popular alternative to our current situation. No matter. This man was determined to utilize his First Amendment rights by flipping a protestor the bird. Truly a patriot.
Obviously that didn't ruin my night. It just pissed me off. What ruined my night was when I decided to finally take the Metro from Friendship to Medical Center. I put my hand on the escalator rail. I've lived in DC for five years; I should have known better. My hand is currently covered in Metro grease. Next time I'll just walk.
Then we got the Nationals. I was happy.
Now we're keeping the Nationals. I am unhappy.
I love baseball. Love it. My happiest memory in my 23 years of existence was watching the Red Sox win the World Series. I'm not even ashamed of that. I skipped 10 days of classes to go see my team win the first championship of my lifetime, my father's lifetime, and my grandfather's lifetime. Let me tell you, there is nothing like seeing every single person on the street floating on air. I would love to feel that again in DC with the Nationals.
But I will not celebrate the city spending up to $611,000,000.00 to get it.
Remember when the city was freaking out because cost overruns on the new stadium might hit 500 million dollars? That was a happier time.
611 million dollars! That is an unfathomable amount of money. Especially for a city that has so many problems. Crime is still unacceptably high. Our public hospitals suck. Our schools across the Anacostia are warzones. Parts of Southeast DC are so poverty-stricken that it makes me weep.
There are a lot of people, mostly black, who need this money spent on something, you know, helpful. Instead, it's being used so rich people, mostly white, can have something to do on a Wednesday night. The racial divide in this city is jaw-droppingly wide and this is not helping.
So, bravo to our Council members who voted for this. We had all the leverage. Did they really think Major League Baseball would move the Nationals to Portland or Las Vegas? Would they contract the Nationals and leave an odd number of teams in the majors? What could they do? DC baseball was profitable and moving now would be a PR black eye for the league.
The worst they could do was send the team across the Potomac into Northern Virginia. And that would have been a motherfucking godsend since it's hard to make a substantial profit when you're investing $611,000,000.00.
But, no. We had to prove that DC can take care of its own business. We don't need Maryland or Virginia. Fuck Maryland and fuck Virginia. This is DC's team. And it will be DC's burden.
To put all of this in perspective: Do you know how much my home commonwealth of Massachusetts put into Fenway Park? $0.
Need a more recent and germane example? Fine.
Gillette Stadium, home of the 3-time world champion New England Patriots, opened in 2002. In 2000, Patriot owner Robert Kraft threatened to move the team to Connecticut or Rhode Island. Those sad excuses for states were offering to pay for a new stadium. But Massachusetts knew that a football team would never move out of its profitable market. That would be crazy. Business suicide. The Massachusetts Legislature played some hardball. They offered Kraft $70,000,000.00. He took the deal.
So Potential DC cost: $611,000,000.00
Massachusetts cost: $70,000,000.00
One of these has an extra and totally unnecessary digit. Way-to-go, DC. You have the business sense of a kid who is willing to buy his classmate's Twinkie for $5. It's a tasty snack, but it's unfulfilling and overvalued.
Also of note, the team doesn't have a owner and, frankly, sucks. Awesome job, DC. I'm glad this is where my taxes are going.
I've been thinking about my new place and how it pertains to my level of DC-hatred. And despite the fact that I'm saving a bundle of money, I would have to say that my DC-hatred level is clearly reaching red alert.
First, this isn't the fun Bethesda. It's North Bethesda. I'm 2 miles from anything that could be called fun. I have to walk a mile up Rockville Pike, past the Naval Hospital's "Great Chode in the Sky," just to get to the Medical Center Metro stop. Getting to a bar or a museum or anything fun means at least 2 miles of walking. And how much fun is walking down the Pike drunk on a Friday night? Zero units of fun.
And, the roommates. What can be said of a landlord who said this of a potential Muslim tenant:
"When he saw that American flag on the wall, he knew he wasn't welcome here."
Wow. Wowwowwow. That is insane. There's also this:
Me: "What did you do on your vacation?"
Landlord: "I shot some deer."
So, there is probably a gun somewhere in my house. I can't wait to get drunk and find it!
That being said, the landlord has been nothing but super-duper nice to me. So, for now, I am going to shrug off any uncouth thing that comes out of his purty lil' mouth.
On the opposite side of the hatred-spectrum, Wonkette reported that there was a camel loose on the block where I work. If that happened everyday in DC, I would be significantly less hateful. I'd still hate it though.
Today's license plate comes from Virginia but was seen in Maryland right by the Naval Hospital. For an extra fee, Virginia drivers can put an American flag on the right side of their plates. It's very patriotic and if you don't choose to spend the extra money, you are a Communist.
Anyways, I saw the following on one of the flag plates: FLY OUR. Very clever. "FLY OUR" and then a picture of an American flag.
Anyone want to guess what kind of car I saw this plate on? Anyone? Come on, guess!
A HUMMER. One of the big ones too. Well, Hummer-driving patriot, I dedicate this to you: