First off, I tried to think of a funny title for this post and suffice it to say, that wasn't happening with out seriously offending any and everybody. But, know this I tried...
Secondly, I've been thinking about gay marriage since early November. Not getting gay married, I doubt Steph would appreciate that, and I'm not gay. I've been thinking about it for several reasons: 1st) The Presidential Election [the topic came up]. 2nd) Prop8 or for those more liberally minded Prop H8. 3rd) my favorite tv show ever (Boston Legal) ended and the two main characters Denny Crane and Allen Shore (played by Bill Shatner and James Spader respectively) got married, to eachother 4th). 4th) Obama having Rick Warren, who supported Prop (H)8, do something (i'm not quite sure what) at his inaugeration.
As an orthodox and conservative Christian I kind of have an orthodox and conservative view on homosexuality. But, as a person who has homosexual and bisexual friends, I'm a bit torn.
I found an exerpt about the topic on a blog I frequent and I'll repost it here (and provide a link):
http://blog.christianitytoday.com/outofur/
"...the state needs to get out of the "marriage" business. It should recognize that as long as it uses that term and continues to privilege certain types of relationships over others this issue is going to divide us as a nation and is only going to become more and more contentious. We need to move towards the system used in many European countries, where the state issues nothing but civil unions to anyone who wants them, and those who desire it may seek a marriage from the church. When I pastored in the Netherlands, couples got a civil union certificate at the courthouse and then had a marriage ceremony at the church. This division largely negated the culture war aspect, and allowed those churches who objected to same sex marriage on biblical grounds not only to opt out, but to be able to continue to teach their biblical view of marriage unchallenged by the state...." -BOB HYATT
What do you think? Leave some comments.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Sexual Critters Eat Ice Cream
The continuing adventures of Bailey Thomson.
---
“Humans are sexual critters.” My comparative religion teacher said that.
Sexual critters?
I haven’t heard the phrase critters in a long, long time.
Sexual critters?
He is obviously right though. He must be because it’s
shut up. Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!
My god, its
I must be a sexual critter.
I’m happy to be eating ice cream. I like ice cream. Ice cream is delicious. I scream. You scream. We all scream for ice cream. But, I’m only screaming to hide the whispers of my heart. Did I seriously just say that? “Whispers of my heart?” Could I possibly be any more ridiculous? She’s my ex’s best friend. Whispers of my heart? Don’t ever say that, think that, or talk to any one who says or thinks that, ever, ever, ever again.
I wonder if my ex’s best friend wants to be my best friend?
Good thing I didn’t ask out the girl from the party because my ex’s best friend is way more everything then that girl. She’s cuter, more whimsical, more darling, more lovely.
Take that Ernest Hemingway. Ice cream is way sexier.
shut up. Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!
I am so pissed right now at this little ménage a trois we got going. Of course, we’re not sleeping but three’s a crowd.
That bite had way too much caramel in it. I may have chosen this flavor but I did not choose that much caramel. I hope my ex’s best friend didn’t have a bite like mine. I hope my friend did. Maybe that’ll make her go away. Why am I being so hostile? I shouldn’t be so mad at my friend she doesn’t know how much she is annoying me at this very particular moment with this very particular beautiful girl sitting with us.
Stop.
Stop.
Stop.
You shouldn’t even be thinking about your ex’s best friend. But she does look absolutely stunning and the ice cream is extra good tonight.
The girls want to go. We’re done with our ice cream. No, they’re done. I want to finish my ice crea…
“Bailey, will you drive her home?” Drive her home?! Hell yeah! I’ll drive her home!
“Sure I can,” I answer as charmingly as possible in this state of mind.
I scream! You scream! We all scream for ice cream!
Friend you no longer annoy me.
I have to clear a seat out for her. She’ll have to sit in the back. Play this cool Bailey. Play it cool, she’s your ex’s best friend.
She’s talking about something. We’re making small talk. It’s cute. I’m so nervous.
Calm down, Bailey, she is your ex girlfriend’s very best friend in the entire world.
She’s your ex girlfriend’s very cute, whimsical, amazing, lovely, darling best friend.
We’re parked.
We’re parked and we’re still talking.
It’s almost
We’re still talking.
She can’t possibly like me.
“We should watch this movie in Spanish sometime. Of course, we should watch it without subtitles.” No. No. No. She is your ex-girlfriend’s best friend. Although, she is incredibly cute.
“I don’t speak Spanish,…” Bad move. Horrible move. Worst move. Make it better. Make it better right now. Hurry! Before it’s too late, “… but I heard the film is beautiful. We can watch it with out subtitles.” Well played Bailey, well played indeed.
Hmm. Maybe she does like me.
Crap! She got of the car. Why’d she get out of the car? What did I do? Did I offend her? Was it an honest invitation? Or, was she just being pleasant? What did I do?
“Come on Bailey, give me a hug. It’s late and I want to go to bed.” I should get out. I should get out. Don’t look too eager. Remember, she is your ex’s best friend. She’s just being nice. She’s only your friend. Alright, you’re out of the car now hug her.
Things are quiet after the hug. Did she like the hug? Does she like me? I didn’t pat her on the back, that’s good for indicating we should be more then friends. She didn’t pat me on the back.
We make more small talk.
I hug her again. This hug is lasting longer then the last did.
Get back in the car. Now. Before you wear out your welcome. Bailey, its late let her go to bed.
Amazing, she’s even beautiful walking to the door.
She’s looking back at me. She’s smiling at me. She’s waving at me.
Deep breaths.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Sexual critters may eat ice cream, but she is your ex-girlfriend’s ex.
In.
Out.
Friday, December 12, 2008
I'm Bound For The Promise Land
I've got this unquenchable thirst for some good country music and an adventure.
So, far this morning (Another all nighter, these need to stop before my head melts.) I've listened to:
Little Sparrow by Dolly Parton
You're Always On My Mind by Willie Nelson
Danny Boy by Johnny Cash*
Sam Hall by Johnny Cash
Down To The River To Pray by Allison Krauss
*I know, Danny Boy is an Irish tune. But, Mr. Cash makes it country... Kind of.
So, far this morning (Another all nighter, these need to stop before my head melts.) I've listened to:
Little Sparrow by Dolly Parton
You're Always On My Mind by Willie Nelson
Danny Boy by Johnny Cash*
Sam Hall by Johnny Cash
Down To The River To Pray by Allison Krauss
*I know, Danny Boy is an Irish tune. But, Mr. Cash makes it country... Kind of.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Why I should be the next govenor of Illinois
In light of yesterdays exciting news, I have decided to run for public office.
If you turn to many news sources you will find that Rod Blagojevic, a govenor who was not corrupt like his predeccsor, was found corrupt. This continues a long history of corruption at the top level of leadership in the Land of Lincoln.
So, today I have decided to run for govenor.
My campaign slogan:
"Any jackass can do this job. I'm that jackass!"
My Policies on...
Education - Mo' Money!
Gay Marriage - Marriage is a spiritual issue, let the churches decide.
Civil Unions for homosexual couples - Lets do it!
Corruption - All for it (Essential for being an Illinois Govenor)
Abortion - Pro-life
Health Care - Socialize it, Baby!
Leaving the Union - Make it happen.
Raising Taxes - How about ending taxes? What do you think of that? Of course, if we're socializing health care and giving mo' money to fund education then I'll actually need to raise 'em. Or, since I'm pro-corruption I'll just have somebody pay me big bucks for a senate seat and use that money... you decide.
I have some other great ideas, too. I'll wait till I'm on the campaign trail to share them. Till then here is why I'm running:
I figure I am from a small town (population as of the year of our Lord 2000: 2,900). And being a well known person in a small town is basically being a mayor. And I plan on being an unexperienced govenor of a large state. So, with all of this I should be a vice-president contender in 2012 or even 2016 (I'm willing to wait).
If you turn to many news sources you will find that Rod Blagojevic, a govenor who was not corrupt like his predeccsor, was found corrupt. This continues a long history of corruption at the top level of leadership in the Land of Lincoln.
So, today I have decided to run for govenor.
My campaign slogan:
"Any jackass can do this job. I'm that jackass!"
My Policies on...
Education - Mo' Money!
Gay Marriage - Marriage is a spiritual issue, let the churches decide.
Civil Unions for homosexual couples - Lets do it!
Corruption - All for it (Essential for being an Illinois Govenor)
Abortion - Pro-life
Health Care - Socialize it, Baby!
Leaving the Union - Make it happen.
Raising Taxes - How about ending taxes? What do you think of that? Of course, if we're socializing health care and giving mo' money to fund education then I'll actually need to raise 'em. Or, since I'm pro-corruption I'll just have somebody pay me big bucks for a senate seat and use that money... you decide.
I have some other great ideas, too. I'll wait till I'm on the campaign trail to share them. Till then here is why I'm running:
I figure I am from a small town (population as of the year of our Lord 2000: 2,900). And being a well known person in a small town is basically being a mayor. And I plan on being an unexperienced govenor of a large state. So, with all of this I should be a vice-president contender in 2012 or even 2016 (I'm willing to wait).
Monday, December 8, 2008
Lies My Grandpa Told Me
I used to be (and by used to be, I mean still am) a huge dork. I loved to hang out at the library. It was here that I discovered something I think Butch* discovered many years ago: a need to redeem the family.
As far as I know at this time every male Welty who has gotten married, has also gotten divorced. Multiple times. And this is the least of sins committed by my father's side of the family. My family has in its ranks: liars, criminals, and junkies! Oh, my!
Butch, is a liar. I think for good purpose. Growing up I heard all sorts of stories, that at the time I found true. As an adult I can see that clearly they are not.
Here are my two favorites:
1) Welty's are Spanish royalty. (FACT: the origin of the last name "Welty" is Swiss-German)
2) The Welty's have a trust fund in a French bank that we are not allowed to access because if we did, we would bankrupt all of France. (FACT: No we don't.)
You may be thinking to yourself, "Tommy! Maybe you are spanish royalty, and if you have that kind of money in France, get it!" But you're not that stupid.
This kind of behavior is a great preface for the Welty's. And as I go on the theraputic journey of family history and generational sin, I think it's a good place to start. But, I kind of understand where Butch is coming from.
Like I said earlier, I was (am) a huge dork and I spent most of my days in middle school at the local library. Like all kids I loved to see my name in any database.** And one day, I checked out Welty in the library system, and lo and behold, there we were! There is an author named Eudora Welty, and aparently she is a great author (I haven't bothered to actually read any of her work).
So, I understand Butch's attempts to redeem that family (and nothing says redemption better then a handful of lies).
When I have kids of my own, they will believe that Eudora Welty is their great-aunt.
Maybe a lie, maybe not.
Probabaly a lie.
----------
*Butch is my Grandpa Welty's nick-name. I find it nothing short of hillarious. So, that's what he'll be called for all intensive purposes.
** Do all kids want to see there names in databases? I'de like to know.
----------
for more information on Eudora Welty:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eudora_Welty
As far as I know at this time every male Welty who has gotten married, has also gotten divorced. Multiple times. And this is the least of sins committed by my father's side of the family. My family has in its ranks: liars, criminals, and junkies! Oh, my!
Butch, is a liar. I think for good purpose. Growing up I heard all sorts of stories, that at the time I found true. As an adult I can see that clearly they are not.
Here are my two favorites:
1) Welty's are Spanish royalty. (FACT: the origin of the last name "Welty" is Swiss-German)
2) The Welty's have a trust fund in a French bank that we are not allowed to access because if we did, we would bankrupt all of France. (FACT: No we don't.)
You may be thinking to yourself, "Tommy! Maybe you are spanish royalty, and if you have that kind of money in France, get it!" But you're not that stupid.
This kind of behavior is a great preface for the Welty's. And as I go on the theraputic journey of family history and generational sin, I think it's a good place to start. But, I kind of understand where Butch is coming from.
Like I said earlier, I was (am) a huge dork and I spent most of my days in middle school at the local library. Like all kids I loved to see my name in any database.** And one day, I checked out Welty in the library system, and lo and behold, there we were! There is an author named Eudora Welty, and aparently she is a great author (I haven't bothered to actually read any of her work).
So, I understand Butch's attempts to redeem that family (and nothing says redemption better then a handful of lies).
When I have kids of my own, they will believe that Eudora Welty is their great-aunt.
Maybe a lie, maybe not.
Probabaly a lie.
----------
*Butch is my Grandpa Welty's nick-name. I find it nothing short of hillarious. So, that's what he'll be called for all intensive purposes.
** Do all kids want to see there names in databases? I'de like to know.
----------
for more information on Eudora Welty:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eudora_Welty
An invitation
If you tell more people about your best friend, me, then we can all hang out and have a big party and watch scary movies and stay up late in the night talking about all of our problems. Then as the night progresses I will probably put my arm around some girl and listen to her. Then there can be a big fight, because that's what happens at intimate gathering of friends that last to the next morning without booze. We wouldn't have booze because not everybody who is my friend is old enough to drink and I want you to come also. Somebody will cry, but of course it will be the same person who always cries: "Why can't we all just be friends." Things will get akward and to make it less akward I will say something witty that can become an in joke with you, me, and all the friends that show up. We'll laugh all night after our hour long fight. Then around four in the morning people will start to nod off. Let them. Their tired. Of course, the one peson who showed up who wasn't invited will probably fall asleep, you can shave that persons eyebrows because they were not invited and its rude to show up at parties you were not invited to. Anyways, I will fall asleep last... we'll not just me. Me and the lady I put my arm around will be up late, not making relations, but talking. Then the two of us, me and my lady, will go outside and watch the sun come up. After that, we'll come in and watch informercials because infomercials are hillarious when you haven't been sleeping. Then everybody will fall asleep. Of course, the kid who wasn't invited will get up first and make a bunch of noise (probably on accident, but we'll all still be pissed anyways; because,"Hey this guys wasn't even invited.") After we're all awake, we'll not brush our teeth except for one person and we'll go to IHOP and get pancakes and talk about how we're such great friends and we'll be friends till the very end. But of course, graduation will come and you'll go off to a state school and I will go to community college...
Doesn't that sound like fun?
Doesn't that sound like fun?
What should I major in?
So, I've been thinking lately a lot about the future. Things like, what is my major, what is my career, will I join the masses and slowly deteriorate into a suburban living, minivan driver. You know the usual for a college student. Which leads me to ask: What is so bad about the suburbs and minivans? Because, I hear a lot of hipsters complaining about the suburbs and minivans and the thing is I happen to really enjoy living in a big house and having room in my vehical for a sexay partay. I mean I could go and live in the big city in a small little apartment and be all hip, but, I guess I would rather have a house where I have lots of room to be hip. Did the hipsters ever think of that? Or were they too busy complaining about social norms? Also, whats the problem with minivans?! I'm serious, everybody is always ripping on the minivan! Well, the minivan I used to drive was really gas efficient and had lots of room for people. Now, I drive a small four person car and you know what? I need more then three others in my car because, yes, I am that hip and more people need to know it. And did hipsters ever think about how incredibly akward the title "hip" is? It is incredibly akward. So, my point is I decided to major in Literature.
Declaration of Independance
Dear England,
This is a very hard letter for me to be writing. I don't want to be writing this but I have to. Our lives have taken us in different places. And, well... its over. I'm sorry; this hurts me more then it hurts you. So, just know I'm crying over this. But, its just what I need to do.
There are reasons why I'm leaving you. I just feel like you're a little overbearing and all. Really, I just want a little freedom. It will take a long time to get over you, but with time... we'll all heal. I need to be able to set my own taxes and all. I know you want what's best for me, but, baby, I can figure out how to tax my own people. Not only can I figure these things out, but I need to.
Anyways, I don't want you to think I didn't ever love you. I did. I did. But the feelings are gone. I do love you, but I'm not in love with you.
You taught me so much about life, about love, about myself. And for that, I will always cherish the time and memories we had. Like that time we massacred all those natives. That was special, it really was.
Well, with time I'm sure, I hope we can be friends. Give it time. Someday we can look back at all of this and remember how wonderful this time is.
Your Friend,
America.
PS: I would have put "Love," but I don't want to complicate things further. Sorry.
This is a very hard letter for me to be writing. I don't want to be writing this but I have to. Our lives have taken us in different places. And, well... its over. I'm sorry; this hurts me more then it hurts you. So, just know I'm crying over this. But, its just what I need to do.
There are reasons why I'm leaving you. I just feel like you're a little overbearing and all. Really, I just want a little freedom. It will take a long time to get over you, but with time... we'll all heal. I need to be able to set my own taxes and all. I know you want what's best for me, but, baby, I can figure out how to tax my own people. Not only can I figure these things out, but I need to.
Anyways, I don't want you to think I didn't ever love you. I did. I did. But the feelings are gone. I do love you, but I'm not in love with you.
You taught me so much about life, about love, about myself. And for that, I will always cherish the time and memories we had. Like that time we massacred all those natives. That was special, it really was.
Well, with time I'm sure, I hope we can be friends. Give it time. Someday we can look back at all of this and remember how wonderful this time is.
Your Friend,
America.
PS: I would have put "Love," but I don't want to complicate things further. Sorry.
Party Animal
Two beers, a pack of cigarettes and I find myself reading Ernest Hemingway. I'm not really paying attention to the book. In all actuality I'm thinking about a girl. Shocking right?
Ernest Hemingway is so sexy.
This girl is kind of cute. Not super cute though, but cute enough to catch my attention. She was the cutest girl at the party. That party was kind of male heavy though.
It's not hard to be the cute girl at guy's night.
I guess there were other girls there, but she was the cutest one around. I don't really care though. Why should I care? She's just the girl at the party.
Anyways, I'm newly single. The girl I was dating was pretty amazing. Cuter then the girl at the party. Less whimsical then the girl at the party though. I like my girls to be whimsical. My ex was very pretty. Very beautiful. Tonight's girl has nothing on the ex.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Wow! Where'd the last three pages go?
If it were not for the fact that the ex left for school and didn't want to try and make it work I wouldn't even have to worry about the girl at the party. Of course, tonight's girl is cute. And whimsical. That's a good mix. I think I'll ask her out to dinner or coffee or something. We could rent a movie and get Chinese food.
I did that once. I rented a romantic drama with the latest teen heart throb and got some Chinese food. It didn't really work though. "Bailey, you're everything I want in a guy, but I'm just not attracted to you."
The girl I first got the movie and Chinese food with doesn't know this girl from the party. I can recycle. Yea, I think that's what I'll do. Chinese food and a movie.
I should really pay attention to the book instead of just turning the pages.
I wish I had some cigarettes. I hate getting all fidgety. I hate when my head hurts because it's been three hours since my last smoke. Of course, I'm not addicted. Maybe I am addicted.
How romantic would that it be to smoke and read Hemingway? Not romantic like roses and candies and Chinese food and teen heart throbs. Romantic like classical music or 1940's film noir or something.
I think it would be romantic.
Hemingway and cigarettes. Cigarettes and Hemingway.
What a night. The party was cool I guess. It would have been better if she hadn't come.
It's been like ten pages and I have no idea what's going on.
There is no way I'm asking her out. She disrupts me reading.
--
All of this is fiction about a character named Bailey Thomson.
Ernest Hemingway is so sexy.
This girl is kind of cute. Not super cute though, but cute enough to catch my attention. She was the cutest girl at the party. That party was kind of male heavy though.
It's not hard to be the cute girl at guy's night.
I guess there were other girls there, but she was the cutest one around. I don't really care though. Why should I care? She's just the girl at the party.
Anyways, I'm newly single. The girl I was dating was pretty amazing. Cuter then the girl at the party. Less whimsical then the girl at the party though. I like my girls to be whimsical. My ex was very pretty. Very beautiful. Tonight's girl has nothing on the ex.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Wow! Where'd the last three pages go?
If it were not for the fact that the ex left for school and didn't want to try and make it work I wouldn't even have to worry about the girl at the party. Of course, tonight's girl is cute. And whimsical. That's a good mix. I think I'll ask her out to dinner or coffee or something. We could rent a movie and get Chinese food.
I did that once. I rented a romantic drama with the latest teen heart throb and got some Chinese food. It didn't really work though. "Bailey, you're everything I want in a guy, but I'm just not attracted to you."
The girl I first got the movie and Chinese food with doesn't know this girl from the party. I can recycle. Yea, I think that's what I'll do. Chinese food and a movie.
I should really pay attention to the book instead of just turning the pages.
I wish I had some cigarettes. I hate getting all fidgety. I hate when my head hurts because it's been three hours since my last smoke. Of course, I'm not addicted. Maybe I am addicted.
How romantic would that it be to smoke and read Hemingway? Not romantic like roses and candies and Chinese food and teen heart throbs. Romantic like classical music or 1940's film noir or something.
I think it would be romantic.
Hemingway and cigarettes. Cigarettes and Hemingway.
What a night. The party was cool I guess. It would have been better if she hadn't come.
It's been like ten pages and I have no idea what's going on.
There is no way I'm asking her out. She disrupts me reading.
--
All of this is fiction about a character named Bailey Thomson.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
