So about that last post… I have been thinking that I did at least one more post about those teenage boys who walk around with their boxer shorts sticking out of their pants… or their pants drooping below their butts… however that works. In California I have seen this fashion trend carried out to the point where they have to walk with their legs spread just so their pants don’t fall down.
I did another search and found another reference to this phenomenon of the faux pa of fashion fickleness in yet another early post.
***Please note number 5***
———————————————–
I started a Facebook campaign recently, running for the position of Supreme Leader of all the Universes.
And I won.
There has been some suggestion that my victory was due mostly to low voter turnout.
But if you do not mind a suggestion, there are some very good reasons why you might want to consider putting me in charge of everything. Just for a year or two. You know darn well that I will get bored being the Overlord and move on to something else. That’s just the way I am.
But here are a few things I will try to get done before my attention begins to wander;
1. I will take away everyone’s cars, and replace them with those bumper cars you see at fairs and amusement parks.
The advantages to my plan are numerous. It will drastically reduce our consumption of oil and gas, and curtail global warming. Billions of dollars will be saved if we eliminate traffic accidents. Texting and driving, no problem. Heck, you can drive drunk if you want. We wont even need lanes on the freeways anymore. If someone cuts you off, just ram them. No more road rage. I even believe that drive by shootings will become a thing of the past, because no self-respecting gang-banger is going to roll up in a clown car and bust some caps. And even if they did, they couldn’t get away fast enough to do them any good.
I realize that we would still need an effective long distance electric rail system to supplement this plan, and the transition phase will be a little tricky, but you just let me worry about the details. Also, if you are a fan of the show Top Gear, you will know that this idea was suggested on a recent episode, but ask anyone who knows me, I have been talking about this plan for fifteen or twenty years, so it is my plan.
2. Taxes will be based not on how much you earn, but rather on how much of a jerk I think you are. The advantages of this system should be obvious.
3. Sports figures will no longer be paid millions of dollars. They all say the love the game, so they shouldn’t mind. It is still just a game after all. The money we save will be used to pay stay at home parents and teachers.
4. All high school students will be required to show up early once a week at school, and help pick up the trash they tossed around, while the custodians stand around watching and offering helpful suggestions. They can also clean the bathrooms while they are at it.
5. All teenage boys will be required to pull their pants up. Or they have the option of replacing their boxer shorts with lacy pink panties so that we can all snicker at them.
6. The amount of time you get to spend on Facebook, or your blog, or talking and texting on your cell phone, will be directly linked to how interesting you are. I am sorry, but those of you who have nothing important to say will have to find other hobbies.
7. Corporations will not be allowed to be people unless they try to be good people. They have to help with the chores, be good listeners, lend a hand to their neighbors, and be responsible citizens before I will even consider allowing them to be people.
8. Hypocrisy will be penalized. If you claim to be pro-life, and you cheer when Texas brags about its death penalty numbers, you will be fined. If you proclaim yourself to be all for family values, but you are cheating on your spouse, it is going to cost you. If you are a person who brags about being religious and you use that as an excuse to look down on anyone else, or think you are better than them, get ready to get your wallet or purse out.
This next part is going to be tricky, because I know Americans like their guns, but here it is;
9. You can all own one gun. That’s it. Just one. Choose wisely. Oh, and did I mention that you can only buy one bullet per year… (it is called the Barney Fife law)…
10. You can not call hunting a sport. Shooting a deer with a high-powered rifle with a scope is not a sport. Sports never start with one team not knowing the game has begun. If you climb into a cage with a bear and a pocket knife, you can call that a sport.
11. There will be no more attempted murder charges. If you shoot someone and they survive, you will be charged with murder and being a bad shot. In fact, if you fire a gun anywhere within range of another human being, that is a murder charge, and a being an idiot charge on top of it.
To finish off this piece, I have two final rules;
12. Prejudice will be against the law. If you think that being the color that you are makes you better than people who are not that color, then keep it to yourself. Because if I hear you say that out loud, you are going to be arrested, tattooed some other color, and be forced to become what you despise. Same thing if you go around saying cruel things about gay people. The police will come to your house and dress you like a drag queen, and then glue that fabulous sequined evening gown to your body with glue that can never be removed. You have been warned.
12. My last rule will be controversial as well, but here it is; Politicians will no longer be allowed to run for public office.
Pouring My Art Out 
1. Is it weird that I was just imagining my Mini Cooper with bumper pads all over? I was at a birthday party, watching my daughter drive her bumper car and it just made so much sense.
2. I don’t much like sucking up. Does that in itself make me a jerk?
3. Brilliant. I knew I was under paid.
4. And if they don’t, then what? Cuz I should start threatening my 10-year old now…
5. Why underwear at all? Wouldn’t it be more motivating for them to change if they had to show crack?
6. Verrrrry interesting…..
7. But they’re not people.
8. Fair enough. I noticed there was nothing in this one about picking up your dog’s poo. I’m just really good at simple projects, and wanted some recognition. I can wait.
9. Can my 10-year old own a gun? I’ve always wanted one, but she gets mad at me sometimes…
10. Agreed.
11. and 12. Deal
Nice list. It scares me to vote for you, but a little chocolate could go a long way…
This was the first time I elected myself to a position of power. You may recall I tried it again more recently. The secret is to announce that you are running for the office in the same post in which you proclaim your victory. I see no need for long, expensive campaigns. It just annoys people.
And all of my rules are open to some interpretation… by me…
Not only does it annoy people, but it also gives others a chance to compete.
You can’t have it both ways.
It comes with being a woman, unfortunately for you.
Why is it unfortunate for me that you are a woman??? HA!!!!!
It is unfortunate for you that you are not 😉
Not to my wife and kids.
NO NO NO. Don’t go down this road with Art.
I am more of a woman than most of you will ever dare to be!!!
Allow ME to count the ways.
I will give you five cents for your two cents worth.
Uh oh, Art. Methinks I smell a grassroots campaing in the making. I believe U.S. citizenship is a requirement for your office, is it not?.
No… not really… you don’t even have to be a citizen of this planet.
@ hiddinsight aka queenofdenial (Yea Art!)
In response to:
1. Most any thing that comes from your imagination has a strong weird potentiality.
2. No, but I sense you are not sucking up to avoid being a jerk, just to avoid higher taxes.
3. Any one who can do 50 push ups and kick boxes is a sports figure. Disqualified.
4 .If she’s ten, she’s already in charge. You were a ten and a daughter once, remember?
5. And I was so looking forward to a chance to show of my favorite new panties. Spoil sport.
6. So what new “other” hobby will you be taking up?
7. Sounds like it less trouble to be a corporation than good people.
8. If you wait long enough, it’s easier to pick up and not so smelly.
9, One bullet will do if it’s a 44mag and I can stand everyone in one straight line. It’s a short list.
10. Like I said: UFC Cage-match marriage kick-boxing.
11. Only if it excludes abusing Art. There has to be something left for the haters .
12. DONE!
You would sell your ever-lasting soul for a chocolate bar?
Yeah… what he said…
Brazos! Yi haw!.
Yippee kiyay, mother bleeper…
Would I sell my soul for a chocolate bar?
I sure hope not!! You asked at a good time, though.
Any one would sell their soul for a chocolate bar… if they were starving.
Apparently I’m not starving.
Consider yourself lucky. And go buy some candy to celebrate.
Only if you do.
I’m ready.
Is she buying? Count me in!
It’s so hard to tell.
Oh? So let’s deal. What’ll it take?
I would sell my body for chocolate, or a pair of nylons… but never my soul.
Nothing. What’s mine is mine 🙂
And she starts off with a clear spirit of compromise…
Yeah!
I mean…wait a second…
What on earth are you talking about?!
Who, me? Nothin….
There was a time when she was much kinder to me. She seems to have turned into quite the playground bully of late though. Another variable must be stirring the pot.
She is the master at setting us against each other.
Oh? So let’s deal. What’ll it take and does it have to be in one of those HUGH Valentine heart boxes?
Hey now, you are not an American GI in Paris in 1944, and nobody is selling anything for chocolates or nylons.
I’ve never been given a HUGH Valentine heart box. I suspect it won’t work though.
Never? Maybe you should stop kicking guys. That might help.
I dunno. That whole dominance thing has a quirky appeal on special occasions.
Just remember your safe word…
That would be OW!!!!?
I would pick another one if I was you.
I’m just not much of a wordsmith I guess. Maybe a safe phrase instead like, uh “Yes!. Yes! More please, Mistress.” Any better? Am I on the right track? Colder or hotter?
I think; “I have a gun,” will get the point across.
Just the thought of concealing it under those circumstances. Ewww.
Assuming the person doesn’t kill you… in which case a safe word isn’t going to help anyway… I thought you would just return with it at a later time.
Never.
I can’t tell what you are replying to, thanks to WordPress.
I know. It’s annoying. I guess one of us could stop replying.
Rock. Paper, Scissors. Who goes first?.
I win.
Good. You stop commenting first. ;D
We have a Latin-American stand off… standoff?
You are the most competetive person I have never met.
I am NOT competitive. I just win a lot. I’m, like, hardly trying…
You are, like, hardly winning either.
And who, pray tell, is the judge of this?!
This time is isn’t you. That’s all you need to know.
Sounds lovely.
spam…
OUCH! Giflé avec un gant de velours.
No… she’s right… she is hardly trying… HA!!!
This is like a kickboxing three-way… using words instead of feet.
I don’t think either of you can stop replying.
I can totally stop replying. I just want to be the last reply-er. So once you two are finished, let me know and then we can all stop.
Ah… the old ‘denial’ as a military tactic tactic. That also worked out well for Hitler. Just keep telling yourself you are winning the war, and how can you lose?
It’s all relative.
And I’m totally part German, so I win. But FINE I’ll make you some pickles. Just stop replying so we can get this over with all nice and calm-like.
Okay, I wont type another word.
Good boy.
Oh man, your last 13 comments got sent to spam… I thought you shut up too quick.
Oops.
She’s playing long enough to draw the win card. She has small children with needs to tend to. We can beat her at her own game.
I don’t have a job or a life… we got this. Plus, we should cover more time zones.
Two words: Birthday Party
I’m bored as hell…
I don’t get the connection.
Forehead seems to think that I am being pulled away from the conversation because of my children; however, they are at a birthday party, so my game is on.
Oh, that’s what you meant.
It’s alway all about her all the time. Me. Me. ME. Wait til we don’t show up at her birthday party bearing gifts of supplication. We’ll show her!
And I will not be swayed by a pair of short shorts that I have to picture in my own mind. I can just take them off her and put them on anybody I want. So she has a whole world of women to compete with. My sunglasses are real… and they are right there. You hear that, hiddin? My eyes are up here!!!
But I don’t have birthdays (it’s why I’m so young). Instead I accept gifts of supplication every other Wednesday. Oh, looks like today is the day…
“What are my gifts today my fine neighbors?”
Neighbors? It looks more to us like you broke into Old Lady Forbush’s house. At least that is what we are telling the cops.
That’s not a gift.
El Norte has risen, I see.
Are we in trouble?
Seriously, as regards #11:
As to #11:
As to #11:
You may know of a black actor named William Marshall. Most people know him as King Cartoon on Pee-wee’s Playhouse. He was trained in Grand Opera, Broadway and Shakespeare. He appeared on Star Trek, Rawhide, Bonanza, The Jeffersons, the Man from U.N.C.L.E. as well as the movie the Boston Strangler with Tony Curtis and much, much more. Most African Americans would remember him as Blacula. He had a fantastic, mellifluent and distinguished, baritone voice.
Earlier in my life, I was working on movie he was staring in. I was way down deep in the crew as a production assistant, just about the lowest of the low. Like any job on a movies set, it is one you can’t screw up because it is no less integral than the rest, but you no one defers to you and they all out rank you.
There are times when you need to be nowhere and other times when you are wanted/needed everywhere all at the same time. The beauty of the job is you spend a lot of time being a fly on the wall. You are privy to some very select goings on because you are invisible in their eyes. It’s kind of like being the help in a mansion. Your role is necessary, but your humanity is ignored. You hear and see so much that you really shouldn’t. It is a job that no matter how well you do it, if you have no sense of discretion, you will not be doing it the next day.
During the slow times, I would talk with any kind and friendly soul who would respond. Kind of like now. I guess I should identify this picture as what was called a blaxploitation picture. It was made specifically to curry to the interests of black audiences. (They weren’t African Americans back then.) The all white film crew knew it. The black actors knew it. It was a simple as everyone wanted to work. One day I got to talking with William about the lunch we were having and mentioned a restaurant in a neighboring rural county that was connected to a very well know fast-food icon. It was a home cooking, family style place with a southern bent to it. He though it sounded like a good place to eat, so I, not knowing my place in the social milieu of the crew, invited him to go as a guest with my wife and me. He accepted. Later in the day, he mentioned the restaurant to the director who invited him to go. In my lowly invisible position beside them, I hear William say, “Well, I’d love to, but he has already invited me. Having been in the business much longer now, I am now aware of the risk in this dynamic for William. Perhaps I was just a pawn, but I think he was really just being an honorable man. He didn’t look to me to gracefully let him off of the hook. It may have had something to do with a scene the director did in a previous movie where he had his Hitchcock moment. He had naturally curly hair, though blonde, and he did the scene in blackface playing a native guide. I will never know if that was behind William’s decision. Since they have both passed, I can tell the story.
I picked William up that night and drove the 30 minutes into the next county. We were in a state that was more southern in attitude than geography. Stated succinctly, blacks knew their place. The relationship was amicable, though strained if you were black. At the restaurant the only black face you saw was a busboy. The rest were in their place: the kitchen. The kitchen was very much a black place, kind of their exclusive club. You can work here. You can even eat here; just not in the dining room. This was the early 70’s. Social restraint still trumped the law of the land. The three of us stepped into the foyer of the restaurant with William standing next to us. The hostess asked delicately, “Two?” She wished.
“No. Three.” I really had no idea what line I had crossed. I now wonder if William wondered if I was using him as my pawn to make a social statement of my own. I doubt it since he and I never talked race relations. I was too unaware to be an activist of any sort. It just wasn’t on my radar. She snatched up three menus and quickly walked us past the main dining areas in the front to a room in the back corner where we would no doubt be more comfortable than with the crowd. Having eaten there many times before, I had never, ever seen a black waiter or waitress….. until this one time. I can’t say anyone white wouldn’t wait on us or if they were told not to, but not one came to the table. The black waitress/kitchen help came hesitantly to the table to take our orders. She looked at us crazy white folk, and then looked at him. Her jaw dropped. By the time the meal was over, I suspect everyone in the “private kitchen club” had found a reason to come to that table or at least tend to our dining room. William was gracious and entertained all that came, including my wife and me.
That is an awesome story. I remember the films of that genre quite well. People who are younger seem to forget that these times of racial stress are not ancient history but really very recent.
I suspect that Art will really love this story. He may want to try to push you to start your own blog soon…
I never push for competition.
But as an artist, you are fully aware that variety is the spice of life.
Spice is the variety of life… ooohhh… I need to Tweet that…
You sure like your ‘tweets.
No… other people do.
ARTIST?! We are talking about Art here still. Mozart is an artist. Salieri is a wannabe hack. Art is a maniacal force bent on taking over the world. This art thing is merely a distracting illusion for the unwitting masses..
Don’t call my masses unwitting… they are very sensitive.
And you are bent on blowing the cover? Why? Hmmmm…must be a fellow artist.
I may not be a real artist, but I am all art-side-of-the-brain. I have scientific proof.
I believe you.
Glad to hear it.
Besides, cumin, chipotle, chile, cilantor, onion and garlic are the spices of life. Please spare me a lecture on aromatics vs spices.
hey wait… cilantor…??? Isn’t that one of the lesser demons from the third circle of hell?
I don’t cook.
I do, however, appreciate a good aromatic…
I could just not wash my feet for a few days…
There’s probably something malodorous coming from that broom above your lip laden with mealtime remnants.
I take care of the stache…
Hmmmmm…no.
I have no context… I hate that.
Lack of context hasn’t stopped you from blathering and pontificating in the past.
What’s your point?
Hmmmmmmm…yes.
Or no…
It was NO first but then you didn’t know what I was saying NO to, so I had no choice but to confuse you with a YES. It was all uphill from there, but don’t worry, we are almost at the top.
I like being on the bottom… uh… I mean… ummmm
Well, as in Jack-and-Jill, Jack did end up at the bottom. Frankly, I’m pleased you are comfortable there. It makes our friendship easier.
I like the view from down here.
With a broken crown it’s amazing you can see anything. Are you sure that’s not Forehead up there? I asked him to fetch me some water like an hour ago, and I’m still waiting.
Spam…
Ummmm…
Can’t you see what she’s doing, man. This talk of short shorts and round mounded things that come to a peak to climb and conquer. She’s playing the t-rump card on us.
The ass of spades. But she is being very quiet all of a sudden. Your whale comment might have been the harpoon that broke the humpback’s back.
I don’t want to make her mad… these things are too much fun. Or is that just what she wants me to think… ahhhh… she is getting in my head…
Keep dancing and stay off of the ropes. She’s setting you up for the coup de grace.
*batting eyelashes*
Now I just see a whale with bats flying around its head.
Time for your afternoon nap. Somebody get this boy a cup of tea.
I would rather have a coup de ville.
Back to scent are we? Tread lightly.
Never get into a smell war with two men.
These exchanges between the three of us always remind me of that three dimensional chess game in Star Trek. All the concurrent levels in play at the same time. But let it be known. I am not a Trekkie (boring) and have not seen any of the movies by choice. I have, however, worked with Shatner and been to Belle Reve, his saddlebred farm. No, I did not give him the “Live long and prosper” with hand gesture bit which I am sure he has had to long endure. I try to live above the fray….well, except for this one guilty pleasure I indulge in with Art and company.
The only thing ‘fraying’ here are my nerves.
Him too? Why does everybody want to chase me off to my own blog when I can just hijack, I mean generate so much traffic for them with my pithy wit and insightful, cogent comments..
My blog has a special filter that keeps too much pity wit or insightful, cogent comments from gumming up the works.
So you are O now? Or is that a zero? This is weird.
You are right about hijacking though…I’m sure my stats have taken a nose-dive since…
Yeah, why is he two different people in the comments. That seems sneaky to me. Maybe he is a CIA agent sent to infiltrate my blog.
Cool. We know a CIA agent. My guess is he’s coming for you. I’ve never done anything wrong….
Way to throw me under the bus.
Well, you kind of jumped…
Then you are supposed to pull me back.
But. I couldn’t save you AND the adorable little puppy. Maybe it was your time…
From here it looked like you were kicked more than a case of you jumping.
I can respect your point of view, but…I have to wonder which glasses you were wearing when you witnessed the accident?
You have never respected a point of view in your life… not even your own.
True, dammit.
Wait… what? Do not try to lull me, young woman!
Well it was true. I do love a good swat on the rear.
This might take the whole SWAT team.
lol…
Don’t use that tone of voice with me.
What? It was funny…
Was it?
Not anymore.
If you say so.
I did.
I think you hurt the forehead’s feelings.
Indeed.
The swat line forms here. Instead of drawing lots, Art, my friend, you take one cheek and I’ll take the other. They won’t be hard to miss. Two glowing white orbs atop to flaming red kickboxing thighs, the result of a week in the desert in short shorts without the benefit of sunscreen. Would you “love” them to match the thighs, or less so? Just let us know before we start. The deeper shade my require a paddle. I have sensitive hands.
This might be getting a little out of hand…
Now that we’ve just about got the situation in hand, you’re throwing the change-up? I thought you were missing that gene?
I am missing a few genes I guess.
LOL.
surprise me…
ummmmmmmmmmmm…
Ignore Art. I think he was suggesting a safe word. Apparently he doesn’t understand the concept or has a low pain/pleasure tolerance and bails quickly.
I don’t like handcuffs… I too have my haunting past.
See. I told you. We’ve got this in hand. Don’t cut and run on me now. It’s a nasty job butt someone has to do it. Discipline must be maintained. Spare the rod, spoil the snotty child. Given the chance, she would choose to kick the snot out of you. I’m here to testify.
I never spanked my kids and they turned out fine.
This isn’t about punishment. It’s about maintaining discipline and order withing the kingdom.. We can’t made her do push ups. She eats those for lunch.
She has to listen to us.
The first step in being listened to is taming that LALALALA tongue of hers. Can’t you just see her sitting there with her fingers in her ears and bobbing her head from side-to-side. She probably puts her hair in pigtails or dog ears too. How childish. Nana nana boo boo to her! 😛
Like she can out immature two men… ha!
Ha…but no one said you had to testify!
Your job ih the foxhole is to have your buddy’s back. It an honor, duty and guy thing. Like Jeep says, “You wouldn’t understand.” Skirts! Wadda ya gonna do? Pray for an updraft, maybe?
Now now, we must maintain the moral high ground.
He got a supoena…
Oh. That is very bad news.
For you…
Ready? Choose your safe word.
Try; Blackbelt…
Uh-oh. Perhaps we need a magnanimous show of mercy just this one time.
No quarter
Looks like I just ran away. Man that was fast…
The enemy forces have withdrawn. Running like a scalded dog. Sweet victory. Pass those pickles.
The flaming beavers of war, the sweet pickles of victory.
See… I’m not the only one.
Indeed.
I felt her foot. I think the shoe is still lodged between my butt cheeks. Hang in there…
Bros before beavers!!!
You can’t just make stuff up to get yourself off the hook. We don’t live in cartoon world.
Fine. There was no puppy. It was a spider. I didn’t want it to *like* rain or anything. Are you saying I should have let the spider die?!
You stand accused by your own words and deeds.
And what shall my punishment be (not like you’re ALIVE or anything after being trampled by some stupid imaginary bus)…?
You will wear those shorts to the Sahara desert where you will stay for one week, without any sunscreen. It will look like you are wearing white shorts even in the shower.
Let’s just say I did that and I’m back already. Wow, nice tan, me.
It looks painful… it was supposed to be…
I dunno. Is it painful getting thrown under a bus?
Why yes… yes it is.
Not even for chocolate? Or in service to your art?
You better answer the questions.
Nope.
Nope means nope…
That was either gravatar or my ISP mucking things up. Time Warner bought out Inisght in my part of the world and this is transition month.
Admit it, you have an alter ego… a secret identity… like a superhero… or spree killer…
Well, true. I do have this one secret identity know to only one other.
As long as that one other isn’t now just a head in a freezer, that’s okay.
Oh my. That sounds dangerous.
Thar she blows, Art!
That is no way to talk about a lady… unless she is a whale…
She started spouting as soon as she breached.
Oh man, you better hope you never meet her in real life… if she gets her flukes… uh… I mean dukes on you…
oh god… I kill me… I really do…
Ha…
Him too? Why does everybody want to chase me off to my own blog when I can just hijack, I mean generate so much traffic for them with my pithy wit and insightful, cogent comments..
I like the way you think.
I didn’t know I was thinking… thanks… I think…
Re: 10 Then that would make cage-match marriage the number one contact sport.
I thought it already was.
Re: 6 And what hobby is it you are planning to take up?
I forget… I wrote that almost a year ago.
Number 6 will cause a revolt.
And because they’re the boring people, they will all have sensible suggestions.
None of them will even involve yogurt, electrodes and a siren!
This was the first time I declared myself leader of anything.
Kind of like Al Haig in 1981 when Reagan was shot. “As of now, I am in control here, in the White House…”
Hey, I got 100% of the votes of the people who bothered to vote… namely me…
Still no!
Then stay away from plumbers…
done!
Just as good recycled.
The post… not the underwear…