Category Archives: Random rant

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Twatwaffle’s

I am really, truly starting to develop an even deeper seeded hatred for mankind.

Who in the hell thought that was possible?!? 

We live in a world where people are nothing but giant, ungrateful twatwaffles and I am calling your ass out on it.

I decided to go back to school.  I’m currently juggling a full time job and college.  Just for fun, i’m throwing university in the mix as well.

I LOVE being an over-achiever.

Almost about as much as I love being an asshole, but I digress.

So I took a camera basics class, it’s a fantastic introduction to all kinds of photography bits and pieces and great for anyone who wants to have better knowledge of their camera and see if maybe, just maybe commercial photography is for you.

I loved everything about it.

Except for one person.

Because let’s face it, there’s ALWAYS one.

ALWAYS!

So we did a round in studio (fucking amazing day) and the group consensus was that we would exchange pictures when we were done.  Fair enough, it’s good experience which is the whole point.

That is until you nag the ever loving shit out of me to give you your pictures in the middle of our last class, which was Photoshop.  So you know, in other words, one that was worth learning.

Nagging me is one thing.

Nagging me when I have PMS?

Ohhelltothenoyoujustdidn’t!

Nothing says klass like screaming: ‘calm your tits bitch i’ll give you your fucking pictures!’

I have some really nice shots of this ungrateful CUNextTuesday but I purposely gave her the shitty ones because i’m petty and spiteful like that.  There was a few passable one’s in there but I was rushed, using a MAC (so foreign to me) on top of other things and she says to me, only give me one’s I can use.  I can’t use these.

The fuck you say?

Oh hellllllllllllllllllll no.

Well I want a nice picture for my website, I need a picture I can use.

No. Just no.

Twatwaffle.

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Nagging bitches, my book & Karma.

Yes some posts I can be bothered to separate, but not today. After all, it’s Monday and I’m tired.  For this, I blame Karma. I was teasing someone last night about how I don’t have to get up stupid early in the morning to go to work like they do (still early none the less) and I was going to text them in the morning for the sheer purpose of rubbing it in that I A: just woke up (after him) B: was still in bed. Yeah well, that was a lovely thought.  I woke up around 4:45-ish and my first thought was sonofabitch! Of course I had to pee. Then, you’d think I’d be able to go back to sleep, but no not really.  It was one of those drifting in and out of sleep moments that aren’t really satisfying. Although I still got to lounge around in bed, which is warm, cozy and uber comfy in my jammies. So damn right I sent that text, to which I was informed that I missed the sun rise that morning. I’m sure it was beautiful and pondering that comment briefly after I woke up I thought to myself, yeah fuck that I catch enough sunrises in the dead of winter. You know when it’s dark until 8am :p So that’s that. He clearly won that round!  Needless to say, I won’t be saying that again.

Nagging bitches: I don’t get it! Why on earth do some people (usually woman, I hate to stereotype but they do exist for a reason) feel that nagging someone endlessly will garner results? It’s really, really fucking irritating! STOP IT! I work with someone who thinks that by constantly harping on your ass, about things that are of NO concern to them none the less; will make a difference. Personal cheerleader my ass. Jesus Christ, leave me and the countless other people you annoy the shit out of alone!  There are some things that *I* feel should be of no involvement of others, especially at work and my boss agrees with me.  Granted there are some things that you need to get on my ass about until I give them to you.  IE: the menu, the milk order.  Because I occasionally forget those things and the reminder is helpful and usually welcome. However when you’re getting on my case about how I choose to live my life, especially when we only have a working relationship? Drop dead.  I don’t care how you justify it to yourself in your mind, you are not my mom, I am not burger king, therefore you can not have it your way!  Because of her (especially because of her) I can totally understand and relate to why men hate woman who nag incessantly.  It gives me a headache!

In other news, I’m working on making food porn v 2.0 become a reality.  Going to purchase the ISBN and the whole nine yards for this one I think.  Essentially I plan to do an edit of the original one and make some more grown up modifications to the recipes themselves.  Stephanie’s secret’s, which became the working title (thanks to a clients suggestion) has officially sold out and while I could do a second printing, it’s a costly investment and unless I have enough people willing to do pre-sale on it, I won’t bother with it.  It’s a little known fact that my self published book titled food porn really does exist.  There’s only three copies of it period. It’s what one might say a collectors item, if you’re into that sort of thing.  Funny enough, I was paging through it earlier and clearly my proof reading skills need some work, as does my grammar >.< I was in a rush to get it printed because I wanted it ready as a gift for someone’s birthday. Clearly that wasn’t my best idea!  However, when Stephanie’s secrets came to life in a gorgeous 8.5×11 format thanks to Maggie’s dedication, formatting and editing skills and her printing team at Wynterblue publishing it looks amazing!  Except this time, I want it to be in a hardcover format. Sadly, they don’t offer the type of cover & binding I need for this project but I might get them to once again rock out the printing of the book & have it sent to another company to be bound.

We’ll see. In any case, let it be known that the hardcover edition will also be limited and we’re working on the cover art right now, thanks to the help of a photographer friend.

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Sleeping vs Sex.

There is something that makes absolutely NO sense to me. None.

Why on earth does everyone use the term you slept with so and so when they’re referring to sex?

Are we so uptight as a society that we can’t use the term sex and have to turn it into something completely different?

Last time I checked, sex had nothing to do with sleeping.  Sleeping with someone in the same bed is no where near the same thing as having sex with someone, regardless of whether or not you have actually had sex with that someone.

It’s still not the same thing!

UGH!

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Ignorance is not for the faint of heart.

The one thing I love about the internet? There’s no shortage of absolute bullshit more often then not.  Facebook usually gives me some pretty interesting things to  read. Or in this case, a whole lot of ignorance!

If you’re interested in the modified community at all, or even better if you’re part of it; take a peek over here and read this piece of flimsy ‘news’  or better yet, I’m going to use the magic of copy and paste and just post it here.

This article was reposted in it’s entirety from The Spectrum, the independent publication for the University of Buffalo.

Article by Lisa Khoury

I get it. It’s the 21st century. You’re cool, you’re rebellious, you’re cutting edge, you have a point to prove, and you’re a woman. Awesome.
Ladies, I know you’re at least at the legal age of making your own decisions, but before you decide to get a tattoo, allow me to let you in on a little secret. A secret you may have not fully realized yet thus far in your life. What you must understand is, as women, we are – naturally – beautiful creatures.
Seriously, though. Your body literally has the ability to turn heads. Guys drool over us. We hold some serious power in our hands, because – as corny as this sounds – we hold the world’s beauty.
But something girls seem to forget nowadays, or maybe have not been taught, is that women hold the world’s class and elegance in their hands, as well. So what’s more attractive than a girl with a nice body? I’ll tell you what: a girl with class. Looks may not last, but class does. And so do tattoos.
An elegant woman does not vandalize the temple she has been blessed with as her body. She appreciates it. She flaunts it. She’s not happy with it? She goes to the gym. She dresses it up in lavish, fun, trendy clothes, enjoying trips to the mall with her girlfriends. She accentuates her legs with high heels. She gets her nails done. She enjoys the finer things in life, all with the body she was blessed with.
But marking it up with ink? That’s just not necessary.
I’m not here to say a girl should walk around flaunting her body like it’s her job – that’s just degrading. Instead of getting a tattoo, a more productive use of your time would be improving and appreciating the body you have been given, not permanently engraving it.
Can you get meaning out of a tattoo? Arguably. If you want to insert ink into your skin as a symbol for something greater than yourself, then maybe you are proving a point to yourself or the rest of the world.
But at the end of the day, are you really a happier person? Has this tattoo, for instance, caused you to learn something new about yourself? Has it challenged you? Has it led you to self-growth? Nothing comes out of getting a tattoo. You get a tattoo, and that’s it. You do something productive, though, and you see results. That’s a genuine, satisfying change in life. Not ink.
Invest your time, money, and effort into a gym membership, or yoga classes, or new clothes, or experimenting with different hairstyles if you’re craving something new with your body, not a tattoo.
I promise, it will be a much more rewarding experience, and you won’t find yourself in a rut when your future grandkids ask you what’s up with the angel wings on your upper back as you’re in the middle of giving them a life lesson on the importance of values and morals.
God knows the last thing this world needs is another generation of kids questioning their basic values and morals.

Email: lisa.khoury@ubspectrum.com

The backlash from this was HUGE!  Never in my life have I seen an article from a University go viral in no time at all.  Lisa has since posted a follow up article where she does a fine job of playing the victim and trying to salvage the last vestiges of a poorly written, not to mention opinionated article to begin with.

Now I can respect most people’s opinions, this however takes the proverbial cake.  I could write the little, opinionated and clearly un-educated miss and give her a piece of my mind. I however have since decided against that and thought I would go public instead.  For ME personally, there is no correlation between my body and what I choose to do with it.   I’m down with yoga, but I prefer boxing.  I’m not a fashion plate so I could care less about shopping and as for changing my hair, well I dye it once, maybe twice a year because I feel like it and to even out the color.  Especially in the winter when it’s drab, dreary and just plain awful most of the time.  Also? I hate high heels.

Every body tells a story.  Every scar, stretch mark, freckle, you name it.  It’s there for a reason.  Either you were born with it or somehow ‘obtained’ it through your course of life.  Mine however is illustrated in pictures.  I get tattooed to pay homage to the people that I love dearly and are no longer with me. Some of my tattoos are in fact just for fun, because why not?  Some of my tattoos represent pain, personal suffering and heartache.  Those tattoos are a representation of my survival and give me something beautiful to look at in spite of the pain.  Not one of my tattoos has ANYTHING to do with the way I see myself on a physical level.  Nor my moral conduct or personal beliefs & ethics.

My tattoos are private, they’re personal and every single one of them means something to me.  FAR more than say having the perfect body, a great hair cut or an awesome pair of jeans.  None of which I can take to the grave with me.  My tattoos however are forever etched in my skin.  A milestone.  Living, breathing art that was designed by me and brought to life by some very talented people.  My tattoos don’t make me any less attractive on the inside, they don’t change who I am as a person.  They represent my life story in pictures.  Permanent reminders of times gone by.  They have made me laugh, some make me cry, some have helped me to move on, some have helped me to heal. To grow as a person, to remind myself of where I am now and what it took me to get to this point.  That in and of itself is priceless and far more meaningful than frivolous, material things.  If you’re going to talk smack about a community of people…

Get your damn facts straight first.