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December 2009

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Dec. 17th, 2009

(no subject)

When I heard about the Ugandan anti-gay bill I felt sick to my stomach. It wasn't the fact that it's now law that being gay or HIV positive or being associated with someone gay or HIV positive is either a jail sentence or an execution in Uganda. To be honest, the law part doesn't make any difference to me. Genocide has been going on for ages on the African continent. Not just to homosexuals, either. Genocide to 'not-quite-pure'(aka somewhat Belgian) Africans was the response to the Belgians colonizing the dark continent.

That's never made the news. The fact that there's a genocide going on in the Sudan and Uganda right now that targets 5 year old boys, throwing them into burning huts (ovens, anyone?) if their noses are too wide(which means they aren't pure Africans) has never entered into anything besides a blip on the margin of your newspaper. This shit has been going on for over twenty years. Yes, it's genocide. Colin Powell once called it the greatest humanitarian crisis of our time. But it wasn't important enough to inform the American public.

Not that it would make any difference. Finally, some African genocide makes the papers just because it involves homosexuals. Don't get me wrong, I beat the gay rights drum. But why the fuck did it take 25 years for America to go 'OH! That's fucked up! We're outraged, and we should do something about it!"? We've known, at least since 1994, that shit wasn't right on the continent.

That was Rwanda, and all the American public did was sigh and go back to eating their dinners. Why now? Why do we shit our pants now? In 2003, with the release of Invisible Children (targeted toward high school-college students, a smart move, since passion about social justice is most alive in the young) we found out about child soldiers. What have we done since then? "Oh, that sucks. Let's go to Wendy's for dinner tonight."

Are you fucking kidding me? We're talking about 5 year olds being emotionally, physically, and sexually abused to a severe intensity. "Well...it's not my country" is a pretty fucking shallow excuse for not doing...anything. And don't overestimate my naivety. I know there are no easy solutions.

I know people can feel helpless and think 'well, what the hell can I do?' You're right. This is a big problem, and I don't have the answer. But it seems that there's more outrage over gays being legally executed in Uganda than there is over children being burned in huts. Both are equally disgusting. But...why only now are we responding?

Why only now does it matter? If you've known me in the past 6 years, you know that this matters to me and you know the passion for Uganda hasn't left me. I've used facebook, myspace, and various blogs to raise awareness about the genocides going on in a few African countries. But up until now I was chastised for being 'too passionate' and 'too naive' to think anything can be done about a 23 year old 'war'. We should just sit on our asses, and let them all die off. Africa's a disposable continent- that's the attitude I got.

After all, it's not...my country. Are we really so selfish that no one but our own people matter? Maybe it's a good thing that the American public now knows the extent of the genocide in Uganda. It's definitely a good thing that more Americans seem to care. But if it extends beyond the 'gays being executed' issue, albiet an important one, will people give a fuck? It seems they'll switch back, remember the fact that Africans are hopeless and disposable, good for no more than calming our desire for an ego boost after a monthly gift to Feed The Hungry International.

Throwing rice at Africa isn't going to do shit - we need to do more. Thankfully people are seeing that now. Two questions remain - what are we going to do and will we care long enough to do it?

Dec. 13th, 2009

(no subject)

tired of looking in the mirror and seeing nothing but jumbo muffin top and thunder thighs that beat Katrina out of the water?

driving the opposite sex away from you with those extra pounds?

does your husband seem to have a permanent nighttime headache?

Don't just feel sorry for yourself -

go a step further!!!

buy ADIMELTER 6000 - (adi for adipose tissue)

comprised of secret ingredients that will slow you down, temporarily get rid of your appetite and give you explosive diarrhea, getting rid of those pesky two pounds!




WARNING

Side effects include

increased facial hair, insomnia, heart failure, significant weight gain*



*up to 50 lbs in three months. When that happens, a second bottle, taken all at once. This carries tiny risk of heart attack.









full assault of this later.

Dec. 11th, 2009

Really? I had no idea I was fat. Thanks for telling me.

After more than a decade of putting up with well-intentioned ‘health lectures’, I think it’s time to finally say ‘fuck you’ instead of ‘yes, I understand. I know you’re just looking out for my best interests.’ It seems that while giving these lectures, the first person is just as clueless as the 100th person. Really? I’m fat? I didn’t KNOW that!

You've really opened my eyes. All this time I thought I was buying a size 2, not a size 22. I need to get my eyes checked, because quite fucking obviously I haven’t ever thought about the way my body looks and the way the rest of the world sees it. I must not care about that. Why would I? I’m choosing to be fat, remember?

This is a lifestyle choice. I’m stuffing my face with twinkies 24/7. I must be imagining my daily goal to get five servings of vegetables, as well as hallucinating working out 5-7 days a week. I must be choosing this fatness. While choosing it, I must not have the brain power (blame the twinkies) to realize that I’m fat. Not just fat, but too fat.
This is offensive to you. So offensive, in fact, that you can’t help yourself from taking pity on me. It’s like I’ve left my zipper undone or there’s spinach (or better yet, human infant) in my teeth. You’re being a Good Samaritan by insisting that I work out with you every time you get the urge to go on a mile run, even if I hate running. You’re spreading the Good News of thinness!
While spreading the gospel of thin, you also must educate me about basic nutrition – you know,, wherever you can. A good place to do it is in a fitting room at a department store where they don’t make clothes to fit me. After your good deed, your conscience is cleared. You think one less person will get diabetes (because genetics has NOTHING to do with it. It’s all caused by being such a fat pig!).

How do I feel after this talk? Oh, I must be grateful, because you’re so the FIRST person who has ever come into my life to inform me of the Dangers Of Being Fat. Right, because I totally wasn’t raised in America. I was raised in Zambia. You know, where it’s expected for a woman to weigh more than her husband? I’ve obviously never heard that being fat is BAD BAD BAD and if you just give me a come-to-weight loss-Jesus-talk, I’ll be skinny the next time I see you.

Or at least dieting. So at least I’m not a happy fat person.

Except that I am a happy fat person, and I am quite proud of the fact that I don't diet. When you're in mid-lecture with me, and I interrupt you and suggest to you that shoulder pads are out of style and make you look older, and they really don't help out those wrinkles on your face, you need to get the fuck over yourself, or mind your business.

This fattie's fed up with everyone's Moral Duty to inform her of her fatness. So, on behalf of all other fatties, shut your mouth. My body is none of your fucking business.