juliana s.'s Profile

yelp has managed to give me asthma. have...never...had.. .a problem with...shortness of breath...til now...in fact, i made fun of those defective weaklings (my brother included, though he swears it was only a passing fancy in his childhood and not a serious habit by any means...and i'm sure he'd want me to clarify that "passing fancy" is not a term he would use - i paraphrase), but here i am, having just finished a goddamn review, and for some reason my lungs are telling me to go fuck myself...(pissed that i was bitching about my name? oooo sour grapes that You weren't mentioned?) is this what they call hyperventilating? did i finally develop an allergy to yelp? i could just blame the swamp air; seriously, everyone's allergic to a city built on marsh. (do ya'll know why water street is called that? exactly. it used to be water.) wondering how long i'll be wheezing like this...light-headedn ess is only a temporarily acceptable high...and of course the dears are mocking me. ("i was short of breath...lalalalala. ...") haha, assholes....
....
the latest yelp accessory? a paper bag. you too can breathe in style...am such a trendsetter...
....seriously, this paper bag needs to cooperate...don't have braincells to waste...
haha! what do i care? am high as a kite!...try asthma- i mean yelping. it works!
...must go and enjoy this....

it seems bitterly ironic tonight, as the prez sends more troops to die in afghanistan, that he'll be in oslo next week, picking up the nobel peace prize (for i do believe we're already living in dumbfuckistan). of course, we could've seen this coming. it was nearly 2 1/2 years ago that even i foresaw our sorry state of affairs in this now-deleted review of the political situation, which for one solitary night was centered around the citadel. there was irony enough in that simple fact: every would-be democratic voter wanted peace and change, and yet they gathered to hear hawkish candidates at an institution that has harbored neither peace nor change ever, was only dragged into the twentieth century, in fact, a few short years before its close (thanks to shannon faulkner, who suffered threats and slander, years of legal battle, and finally couldn't hack it through hell week). ironically (again), yelp yanked my review for lacking a first-hand experience. silly yelplings! don't you know there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell i'd survive in that place? even if i'd had a masochistic streak, ocd, a desire for discipline, or at the very least a little healthy respect for authority, i couldn't have made it past hell week. my cousins and uncles and endless forefathers attended the citadel. i've heard tell, and i don't need to know anymore.
i'm also told a yelp review isn't the place for politics. unfortunately for me, my brain doesn't work in binaries. because i'm plotting my next meal doesn't mean i'm not concerned about, say, the money with which to buy it, or why i can't afford said meal (aka politics). besides, how can anyone review a military institution without talking about the military? i respect the military more than anyone, which is why i don't like pointless wars that drag on for a decade (2011 is our etd, as of this evening). i don't like my friends returning with ptsd, if they return at all. i don't like veterans suffering and being homeless. and i don't like being censored, even for something as inane and innocuous as this. i used to think this website was about spreading ideas (even half-baked ones), not just recommendations on where to fill your gut. until i'm proved wrong:
(originally posted: july, 2007
p.s. nothing has changed.)
my car is trying to kill me. i'm not even kidding: she wants me dead. of course, i absolutely adore her; i worship the ground she drives on; i hang on her every hiccup; i dress up just to impress that flighty bitch. (she's unimpressed.) maybe it's not the healthiest relationship...but we all have abusive relationships, don't we? certainly anyone who follows politics or bothered to vote in the last couple elections (seriously, why did anyone bother? i could've been more productive swatting flies or praying to diebold), so it's increasingly difficult to take the latest prez election, all bloated and overblown a year premature, seriously. in fact, i think it's time we get our news from the real, hard-hitting journals, like tmz or us weekly. they were much too bonafide to cover the latest political pageant, held in the heart of my hometown at that place they call sing sing on the ashley (known in some circles as "the citadel"). youtube tried to save it, but when you're dealing with highly trained automatons, what can you do? the lesson here is what not to do: Don't go to the citadel for any reason (democrats be damned!), even if someone's trying to lure you there with lofty talk of this war in iraq ending, because once you step inside, there's no turning back. in two seconds flat, your head will be shaved and ten drill sergeants will be drilling all sorts of profanity into it, and, if you make it out alive, you too can be rewarded with a tour in iraq, courtesy of your new peace-loving prez. so before you start fawning over these candidates here on the banks of the ashley, remember your first class in adulthood (abusive relationships 101), and take heed, for the irony is too acute.

i can't think of anything but bees. i mean, how can anyone think of anything else? as einstein put it: without bees, plants wouldn't get pollinated, animals couldn't graze, and we'd die out in a matter of years - 4 was his estimate. and in case you haven't heard, the bee population is disappearing. some are being found dead in their hives, infected with every disease that's ever afflicted bees in the last hundred years; others are simply disappearing (at an estimated rate of 30-60% of the population and spreading). now, i don't frighten easily, i'm not a feeble oldster who will buy whatever hobgoblins escape from karl rove's head, i'm certainly not afraid of terrorists or boogeymen coming to get me (actually, i call them the cia), but how is this shit not on the cover of every rag that passes for a newspaper? (that would be you, newsless discourager. you know what kind of crap they put on the cover of our so-called paper? some local feel-good piece about kids hanging out at the busstop. yea, seriously.) shouldn't our news shows be covering this until everyone and their semi-retarded neighbors (and i do mean politicians) know about it? if i were a presidential candidate, you could not get me to shut up about something as sinister as this (and quite a few other things as well); actually, if i were running for prez, there'd be a lot of things i'd do differently. for one, i'd have actual blood running in my veins; i might even have my own brain, too. i'd speak plainly - or at least candidly. etv and hollywood keep broadcasting bios on bobby kennedy, hoping plaintively that someone will take a hint and just say something real for once...but i guess if we're all going to be dead within the next presidential term anyway, what do we care? oh, more happy thoughts from your favorite yelper! somebody get me a coffee stat. i wanted some info, so i thought http://epa.org would probably be all over this, but no. i had to search to find anything on bees, and when i did find their one measly link, it was to some christian think tank (http://www.realtr... ), which was actually quite useful but somehow bitterly...ironic, given that these people believe in the second coming, and most of them believe it's coming soon.
i guess it's time for me to found some honey bee lobbying group. who's with me? long live the bumble bee!

(where i should've gone this morning)

mornings are the cruelest time. civilized people have done away with them, so i think it's time we be civilized. germans say 'he who sleeps, dreams,' whereas we spout nonsense like 'you snooze, you lose' or 'the early bird gets the worm,' which only an asshole would say. that's a mantra for worker bees, so get back to the hive, you poor slaves, before you figure out there are worms aplenty, and btw, you're not a fucking bird: you're a bee! so get to it. (and don't expect any honey, either. well, maybe if you're good, we'll throw you a couple scraps of high fructose corn syrup, but that's it!) kafka knew sleep for what it was, the ultimate act of rebellion, the simplest, most defiant and unforgivable act, so dangerous it could singlehandedly turn you inside out and into a sacrifice. but this is nothing new: great things are usually discarded, like diamonds in a dustbin. so instead of flicking off security cameras (you are an idiot, dear soul), get your rest and smash your alarm clock instead!

(to anyone who got nothing out of this house: be glad. and be on your way. that's all anyone can hope for.)

i made it out of here.
but it was a coin toss between (heads) walking and (tails) passing out and falling down the stairs.
but if i have no blood in my head or air in my lungs, i do have hand railings.
and it was heads, bitches!
i'm not going back. i don't test my luck like that.