Why is it an insult to be called a vagina?


I understand if you say that a man has a vagina instead of what he should have, a penis, that could be insulting, although I'd say it might be an improvement for their ego to get to try on a woman's shoes and perhaps walk a mile, but why call the man an actually vagina? Like a walking talking labido? Who came up with that? That's like calling someone a penis! We don't call people 'penis'. We call them 'dick', but that just means they're a jerk. So does being called a pussy mean that you're weenie? But isn't a weenie mistaken for a weener and therefor is infact a penis? So are you actually calling the man a penis? Wouldn't that boost and stroke his ego, instead of deflating it? So why call him 'pussy' to begin with?

I think that the man who first called another man a penis has got to be the most stupid person in the world.

You know those times, when you're in the showering, fiddling away with the soap, and suddenly a story hits you like a ten ton elephant with a nasty temper. So you're standing there, half your mind concentrating on washing and the other half a million miles away, writing this story 50 words per minute, picturing all these yummy ideas and words and situations, and then, as the shower comes to an end, you realize that you'd forgotten the first few things that you thought. And they were brilliant! Dissappointment strikes, and then, with shock and fear, you start to hurry, and scramble out of the shower cursing. But, alas.. you can no longer remember anything by the time you find something to write with.

Ah, what a pity.

I think that writers are those people who can scramble out of the shower fast enough to write down all their brilliant first ideas that turn into brilliant second and third ideas, concluding in a mesh of wonderful ideas that happened to spew out of their mind while in the shower..

So we get to do really awesome song for Dettes this year, well, scratch that, two of the songs that we're doing so far are really awesome, and although I can't give them justice without the actual music, seeing how completely beautiful the melody and everything else about the pieces are awesome, I thought I might say the lyrics because they're so cool. Both are in minor cords, in fact all three songs we're singing are, so they're going to sound all melo-dramatic and depressed even though they're ..awesome. Yea.

Who Shall Sing
By Andrea S. Klouse.

Who shall sing of red leaf Autumn?
Who shall sing of lacey moon skies?
Who shall sing of whistling willow branches bending to her lullaby?
Who shall sing of human kindness?
Who shall sing of merry jubilee?
None, from all imagined corners were the breath of song to cease.

Were this Ol' World fimrly held in place,
with her song would surely us a lign!
Spinning ever wisely 'round in space,
she'd hush the sigh of human kind!

Have you heard the song she's singing?
Can you hear her gently call you?
If you listen from your silent aching soul,
you will hear her song surround you.

Do you know the sound of Autumn?
Do you know the sound of Winter skies?
If you heard the whistling wind upon the lea then you've heard her lullaby.
-lots of ahs-

Who shall sing of red leaf Autumn?
Who shall sing of lacey moon skies?
Who will raise a voice in her unending song?
I will sing, I will sing,
(major cord)
I will sing!
-end-

She's Like The Swallow
Arranged by Eleanor Daley.

She's like the swallow that flies so high,
She's like the river that never runs dry,
She's like the sunshine on the lee shore,
She loves her love but she'll love no more.

Twas down in the meadow this fair maid bent, picking the primrose just as she went.
The more she picked and the more she pulled, until she gathered her apron full.

She climbed on yonder hill above to give a rose unto her love.
She gave him one, she gave him three, she gave her heart for company.

And as they sat on yonder his heart grew hard, so harder still.
He has two hearts instead of one. She says, "Young man, what have you done?"

How foolish, foolish you must be to think I love no one but thee.
The world's not made for one alone, I take delight in ev'ry one.

She took her roses and made a bed.
A stony pillow for her head.
She lay her down, no more did she say,
But let her roses fade away.

She's like the swallow that flies so high,
She's like the river that never runs dry,
She's like the sunshine on the lee shore,
She loves her love but she'll love no more.

I hate spiders. I HATE them. I don't care who says what about killing bugs and keeping homes free of flies, they're liars, spiders are bugs and they're disgusting.

Our house is currently being over run by the nasty shits. Only 10 minutes ago I jumped up in the middle of reading the 6th Harry Potter book, in shock, to fantically swipe the inside my pantleg because I swear I felt something crawling up my leg. When I did so, I looked down and saw a huge furry brown stripped spider crawling over my blanket that had been thrown onto the floor. I actually screamed and started to cry, sinking on to my bed, shaking. My screaming brought in Natali, my Uncle Victor's wife, who squished it with her shoe.

This morning I woke up to another huge furry brown stripped spider crawling along my bed towards my bare leg.

Maybe it's the stress from reading this emmensly sad book plus obviously my extremely emotional attitude seeing how I'm likely to start soon, but my god I could just sit here and cry because there are too many spiders in this house. Everytime my hair brushes against my neck, or my blanket shifts slightly, I shudder and very quickly throw my hand at what I know isn't a spider, but what my body is positive that is.

I hate spiders.

Sex is messy.
Sex is simply two mindless, sweaty bodies pounding against eachother over and over until someone stops moving.
Sex is disgusting. It's dirty, loud, and smelly. It touches the deepest, most sensitive places and plays with us until we get some relief from the tormet we've given ourselves.
Why is it so interesting? What's the big deal? Give me cuddles, or give me death, right? Right?

A woman with shoulder length, shiny black hair smiles down at the little boy walking besides her. He squeezes his fingers around her hand, and starts to talk, as most little boys do.

'Mommy, tell me the truth.'

She tilts her head and agrees to do so.

'Did I come from your bellybotton, or your private parts?'

Such innocent curiousity. She smiles again, and tells him the truth as gently as she can.

The little boy makes a face and stares at the ground.

'Eww' he says, and then he peers at his mother's pronounced belly as they continue down the sidewalk. Traffic rushes by besides them. He takes his hand from his mother's and places it against her stomach, unafraid.

Then the little boy looks up into his mother's tearfilled eyes and smiles. 'I sure hope they give her a shower before I hold her.'

How dare you mess with someone's emotions like that. How dare you dangle love and care and kindness, sweet wonderful things in front of her face then yank her heart from her chest with a few measy words. How dare you do something so hurtful, harmful, something so cruel and mean. How dare you act this way. You have no right to say things like that. How dare you even look at yourself without feeling disgust at your disgusting little thoughts.

This is why Jessica doesn't deserve the right to have money.
She tends to spend it when she's upset.
All of it.

I feel.. almost ashamed to admit this.. But I very much like to watch the series 'Wife Swap'. It amuses me to some high extent. It's not like I turn the tv on everytime it's on, I just watch it when I catch it, if say my grandparents are watching news and suddenly it comes on.
It's so entertaining. I swear.
It makes you go, 'I thank God I'm not like that.'
But then again, it makes you pity people.. Oh well..

Uung.
If there's one thing you never, ever do on your period..
It's crunches. Sit ups. Curls.
Le owwww.

You know.. it's funny how the mind works.. On one part of my subconcious, as I'm staring intently at my white sweater in the closet, my mind is thinking about moths and how there've been a couple in my bedroom and how, because my clothes tend to be strewn everywhere in my frantic efforts to find my bras, the moths probably think this is some type of a buffet and that's why they're flocking here. On the other part of my mind I'm singing 'We're the doodlebops, we love to sing and play, we'll dance all day, Runi Doodle, and MOE Doodle, weee're the DOODLEbops!' while my hand softly taps against the table in time to the beat.

Bleh.

I. Am. A Feminist.

I believe in the equal right of choice for both sexes.

I am never going to church again. EVER.
I believe in God and that Jesus died for the sins of the Human race, BUT I do NOT believe that it is a man's world or that men bring home the bread. I do not believe that it is a man's place to be at the top of his house and his church. Men use the bible as an excuse. Guess what, boys, TIMES CHANGE. Do you look around and see slaves everywhere, like in biblical times? NO. If it wasn't for the female community in a church, the church would crumble and fall.

I am NEVER going to church again. Unless it's a women's church. Run by women ministers.

I am so sick of chauvinistic people, both men and women. When will people learn that a certain type of human can't be blamed for something? When will we learn that descriminating against anything is ridiculous to the extreme, be it sex, race, or religion? Why is it that the world is filled with stupid little thoughts and stupid little opinions and stupid little people? ARG.

I am never going to church again until the male bastards can get it through their thick, unintelligent brains that they would be NO where were it not for women. Mary BIRTHED Jesus, she TAUGHT him and MOTHERED him and even the Catholics, who strongly and deeply WORSHIP her can't get their puny minds wrapped around a female minister.

It's utterly and completely despicable.

Now, I don't mind a gentle man. Someone who opens doors and says please and thank you, I can open my own door and I open it for others, too. But men who think they're better then women..? Bring them to me so I can kick them all in the balls and show them what power we easily have over them. They've got more strength? We've got more cunning. They've got more bronze? We've got more INTELLECT.

Fuck men.

Let's hit 'em all over the head with bats.

Except a few.

And ONLY a few.

We will need those ones for breeding purposes until we perfect the cloning devices.

But they must be extremely intelligent, polite and cute.

Ilie will be one of them.

Damnit.

If you're my friend and you think you know me really well, take this! I'm too lazy to hunt ya down.. http://www03.quizyourfriends.com/quizpage.php?quizname=060809235042-397341

Letssee.. My first really gory wolf nightmare was in 6th grade, I remember, because I drew a picture of it in art. The door opened a crack, the quiet snuffling, the huge yellow eyes peering, the bed shifting as massive black furred shoulders slowly stepped up onto my covers, the low, grovely growl, feeling it's muzzle intently shove against my stomach, being eaten alive and unable to do anything but watch and scream. Yea, that was nasty.
I'll never get used to waking up thinking that I'm being attacked by something. The chasing, you can't breath, can't think, only run, holding doors closed with all your might as something ferociously bangs against it, blood everywhere, it's like some really badly done horror flick, like ginger snaps or something equally as stupid.
And it feels so real.
Meh.. I actually sleep for more then a couple hours, and I end up having a nightmare. Darn.

Be prepared for a huge ass rant. Well .. for a couple rants. If you don't know me very well, uhm, you probably don't want to read this as it would be silly for you to. I'll be adressing some of what I'm saying to certain people. Anyways..

First of all, Rachel. That book you gave me. The sex absoloutely sucks ass. It's badly written. Really.. badly written. This author likes to use the same freakin' words/phrases/situations over and over. I mean, she says 'spartan' FOUR times in TWO pages while describing a place. It's like .. dude. BUT.. I really liked some other things she did. For example, the way she made the character Bride(stupid fucking name). And how Vane was so .. .. so deeply in lust/love with her. And I mean .. wow, people, this extremely "bodacious" man, with the supposed 'perfect' body was head over heals in LUST with this woman. And you want to know why I liked this? Because she's a "solid size 18". And that's a large woman. She kept going on about being self concious, of not being petite since she was born, disliking her upper arms, feeling jealous of the tiny people, like her friends, and I was sort of like, 'I feel for ya.', but then this man is talking about her lucious curves and her beautiful, soft face, her amazing ass and whatnot. And I felt pretty damn good. Now, I'm not no size 18 O.o or anything, but I'm not size 2, 4, 6 either, which is most of the tiny girls out there. I'm fairly average, normal, but being normal is like being a hippo now a days. Compared to you, Rachel. Not that it's your fault, of course not. People who are naturally thin should revil in it. You get to wear all the clothes! All the awesome new styles in the world! You get to have people hug you and feel your ribs! You're hard and solid, not squishy! But it sucks that people who naturally have breasts and hips should feel bad. Instead of feeling bad because your thighs happen to curve out instead of in, like the chicken legs size 2 people have, you should appreciate how horny it'll make your man when you wrap 'em around him and hold him against you ;). But I'm talking about inshape people who could never really be stick thin. If you're actually overweight, it's unhealthy. Just thought I should throw that out there..
But for those who are perfectly FINE in shape, and feel as though you need to be different, just .. look at yourself. You're gorgeous. So what if you're not bones and muscle. So what if you're soft. That's wonderful. All of those toothpick people(and Rach, no matter how much we tease you, you aren't one of those people, you've got very shapely legs and have a perfectly fine, normal chest, so don't worry!) just WISH they had your breasts. They WISH they had an ass that's round and great to look at, instead of flat and small. They hate themselves for looking like 13 year old boys.
The point of this part of the rant is; Love yourself for who you are. Love yourself. Every little bit of yourself. Even the bits that jiggle when you run, or the bits that bunch when you crunch. O.o ignore the rhyme. Love yourself for what you are, and find someone who loves you even more. If they don't, then look for someone else. Because, I admit, the people who love you, their opinions do matter. I'm just being honest, as someone who knows. But if they loved you, they'd love you for who you are. Not for what you aren't.

Now onto the next part.. (this is the part that doesn't matter if you read or not, it's just incredibly pointless babble about me that I really need to get down and I have no where else to put it ><;;)

I had an A-FUCKING-MAZING weekend. It was wonderful. I had .. a blast. I love camping. Love it. I could camp for weeks, so long as I had the ability to wash my hair. We got there, and the resort people decided to put on in a really shitty spot, right next to the little playground and in view of every RV in the RV section. My mom and I were like, I don't think so, we paid a crap load of money for this and we'll get a good spot. So we looked around, and found THE. BEST. TENT. SITE. It was big, with shade, and the perfect place to put the tent right next to this pretty tree, and it was fairly hidden away, so we could be comfortable and change and stuff without worrying about people oggling us. It was a nice warm temp, not too hot, but really wonderful in the shade. There were butterflies, and good munchie food, and it smelt great, the fresh air, the sunlight, it lifted my moods so much I could have easily soared. We went fishing, and rented a little orange paddle boat, and rented this huge metal thing that I actually rowed for three hours while we fished. And what's even better then that, I did it in my BRA! I was FREE! Free as a bird! -laughs- Although I now have to pay for my fun with a huge stinkin' sunburn all over my shoulders, and sadly we didn't catch anything, and by the second day I was missing you all so very much.. But it was still wonderfuck. -sighs happily- I wish I could live near a lake, I'd go rowing all the time, fishing all the time, I actually baited a hook. >< -gags- Can you believe it? I feel sorry for the little worms, because really, they are in pain. They gush and squirt while you're shoving them repeatedly onto the hook, the wriggle and writhe and try so hard to get away.. But I did it! By the end of that day, my hands and feet were so dirty, my god, I had to scrub and scrub and scrub with soap to get the dirt/gunk stains off >< ew. But that's camping/being in a dirty little metal boat for you. I had a great time, and I can't say that enough. Just me and my mother, and we didn't fight at all! Not once! That's what amazes me the most - we both had a great time together for three days. Then again, I have to say, she's not the best influence -sigh- since I've been back up here to visit I've been cursing and drinking a whole lot more. But it doesn't do any harm, because once I'm back in Portland I watch my mouth like a saint, and there's no irish cream, kahlua or whine coolers in sight! Er, right, but back to what I was saying, I had a good weekend. I had an epiphany, I got a sunburn, and I missed my friends.

Moving on..

I am a 15 year old who still cuddles with her mother.
Gasp, shock.
Yes, that's right. I'm a teenage CHICK who loves spending hours after dark, up laughing with her mom snuggled next to her.
I've always been a very, ah, what's the word, touch oriented person. When I was little, I would hug my teachers every morning that I went to school, and I'd stay after to help them clean the chalk boards and push the desks back together and whatnot, then hug them again when I left. I've always been like that, up until the point when I moved down to live with my Grandparents. I had nearly no human contact. I'd stay in my bedroom most of the time, quiet and reserved at school, didn't have any friends for a while. I come back to Spokane, and it's .. difficult. Rachel, you're always trying to hug me, and I pull away. I'm sorry for that. My mom wants me to snuggle with her on the couch, and I'd rather retreat to my bedroom to read or draw. While camping, all that washed away with the murky lake water. ^_^ Heh. Last night, after I had a bad case of the giggles and my mother stayed up late talking and laughing, I fell asleep squished up against her in the small tent, her fingers softly brushing across my forhead, which by the way is so very soothing I could have cried, and I slept 10 hours without waking up once, with no nightmares. Can you believe that? Me, who wakes up every hour compulsively. Maybe it was the three hours of rowing, or making breakfast and dinner over the camp fire, or the sweet, fresh air, but to be honest.. I think it was being held again.

But I am happy to be back. I may like being dirty, but no girl likes a constant layer of crud under her nails every hour of the day. And I can't wait to hang out with my friends and show off what will probably be a fairly good tan by then, for me at least. (Compared to my mother, I'm still lilly white -rolls her eyes) Which reminds me why I hate it when people say that 'tan is pretty and pale is sickly'. Tanning gives you SKIN CANCER. So HAH! Suck that Ilie! Besides, I look so silly, with bright red shoulders, lightly tanned arms, and pale-as-paper everything else. Bleh. Who cares, anyway?

Anywho.. I think I'm done for now. Until, that is, I need to rant again.. muwa.. mwauaha.. Muwahahhaahaahahaaaha..!

God forgive me, for I have sinned. I've just spent 30 minutes rambling on about nothing but crap, and if you've read this far, I pity your poor little eyeballs.

Ung. I feel demented now.

The urge to draw a couple little nuses tied to little branches above a little trampoline with little children jumping around.. Or a small army of small children handling large, sharpened crayons with razor blades embedded in them. A young girl sitting in the middle of her bedroom with a bag over her head, clutching a teddy bear with a bag over it's head. Weird thoughts, man, I don't know if it's the lack of sleep/nightmares, or just too much coffee... Maybe I'll draw Briarwood's Garden.

Physically, you're an unstopable train of hope and strength.

Mentally, emotionally, you're nothing but a train wreck.

New song that I love! Yay! Now to find it, and listen to it all the time..

Dianna Ross

Without You

Day after day I must face a world of strangers
Where I dont belong,
I'm not that strong..
It's nice to know that there's someone I can turn to,
Who will always care,
You're always there.

When there's no getting over that rainbow,
When my small list of dreams wont come true,
I can take all the madness the world has to give..
But I wont last a day without you

So many times when the city seems to be
Without a friendly face,
A lonely place..
It's nice to know that you'll be there if I need you,
And you always smile.
Its all worth while.

When there's no getting over that rainbow,
When my small list of dreams wont come true,
I can take all the madness the world has to give..
But I wont last a day without you

Touch me and I end up singing,
Troubles seem to up and disappear.
You touch me with the love you're bringin'
I can't really lose when you're near.
When you're near, my love.
If all my friends have forgotten all their promises,
They're not unkind,
Just hard to find.
One look at you and I know that,
I could learn to live without the rest.
I found the best.

When there's no getting over that rainbow,
When my small list of dreams wont come true,
I can take all the madness the world has to give,
But I wont last a day without you.

When there's no getting over that rainbow,
When my small list of dreams wont come true,
I can take all the madness the world has to give..
But I wont last a day...
Without you.

Song obsessively stuck in head right now, not exactly sure why. Continuously singing it and driving my mother and Sean crazy with the country-backwater-drydirttown-ish it is.Yes, that's all one word. Muwha..


Soggy Bottom Boys

Man Of Constant Sorrow


I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow
(chorus) In constant sorrow through his days
I am a man of constant sorrow
I've seen trouble all my day.
I bid farewell to old Kentucky
The place where I was born and raised.
(chorus) The place where he was born and raised
For six long years I've been in trouble
No pleasures here on earth I found
For in this world I'm bound to ramble
I have no friends to help me now.
(chorus) He has no friends to help him now
It's fare thee well my old lover
I never expect to see you again
For I'm bound to ride that northern railroad
Perhaps I'll die upon this train.
(chorus) Perhaps he'll die upon this train.
You can bury me in some deep valley
For many years where I may lay
Then you may learn to love another
While I am sleeping in my grave.
(chorus) While he is sleeping in his grave.
Maybe your friends think I'm just a stranger
My face you'll never see no more.
But there is one promise that is given
I'll meet you on God's golden shore.
(chorus) He'll meet you on God's golden shore..

-practically bawls-

I just finished watching Chrono Crusade.. And let me tell you what..

I love it, but I hate it. The good guys die, the bad guy continues on his path, and 'God looks on'. It's so sad..

Hahahaha, made you look!