The Real Deal: Behind Closet Doors

"For a long time I was in love
Not only in love-- I was obsessed
With a friendship that no one else could touch
It didn't work out
I'm covered in shells

And all I wanted was the simple things
A simple kind of life
And all I needed was a simple man
So I could be a wife

I'm so ashamed-- I've been so mean
I don't know how it got to this point
Oh I always was the one with all the love 
You came along
I'm hunting you down
Like a sick domestic abuser looking for a fight
And all I wanted was the simple things
A simple kind of life

If we met tomorrow for the very first time
Would it start all over again?
Would I try to make you mine?

I always thought I'd be a mom
Sometimes I wish for a mistake
The longer that I wait the more selfish that I get
You seem like you'd be a good dad

Now all those simple things are simply too complicated for my life
How'd I get so faithful to my freedom?
A selfish kind of life
When all I ever wanted was the simple things
A simple kind of life
A simple kind of life..."
                                                    -Gwen Stefani, Simple Kind of Life

We focus so much on these simple things that life, and all the complexities that come with it, inevitably bends us over and gives it to us in the ass. Sans vaseline, Oz style. Bring on the bandages.

I sat here, doing research, reading, listening to music, trying to relax. However after spending some time on the phone, the music suddenly became heavier. Everything got heavier. My shoulders are suddenly strained and hurting, whereas I was originally sitting upright I now hunch over my laptop, my eyes struggle to remain open. And Gwen's beautiful melody (one of my favourites) washed over me. *ahem* > Washed fucking depression all over me. 

Here it is, I thought, something's wrong with me, why am I feeling like this, why am I thinking like this? And Gwen just comes and sings my thoughts right back to me. In a better voice and probably wearing something more vogue than a big orange t-shirt of course. We all grew up wanting these 'simple things.' Husband/wife, children, a nice house, a nice car, money. Comfort.

And in our quest to achieve this comfort we have been slapped silly and hospitalized by reality. Those things aren't simple. Not by a far fucking stretch. Even more so when you add broken fragments of a heart, collected along the way, to the equation. Everything becomes substantially more difficult. The simple things are now the complicated, near inaccessible, things.

Who has successfully overcome that? Who hasn't, in the pursuit of these 'simple things', lost almost, if not just as much as they gained? In this modern society we seem to think that people don't still want these things. That we have "evolved" beyond that conventional old think; women are "independent", men are "bachelors" and the time spent in the club or the bar amounts to more than the time spent at home, with friends or with family. I too have been in denial about the things that I want, the things that I've always wanted, the things that I fight so hard not to want because of what it could mean if it all goes wrong. 

What is left? If we cannot safely harbour the innate desire for these things, and are instead content to live the life of promiscuous bachelors and crazy cat ladies, what is really left for us? I almost despise the fact that I still want these things. The idea of marriage? Husband, kids, the boring routines of parenthood occasionally shaken up by a doctor's visit or pregnancy scare (not another one!), the arguments, the acquired resentment, the struggles, the life. Blah. 

Though I love children, I am (for some strange reason!) very uneasy about having them grow inside of me, give me gas, upset stomach, 20 extra pounds and stretch marks to finally emerge screaming out my vagina. Uh...thanks for the opportunity Mother Nature but I pass for now.

Even if your plan is not to include the husband/wife, the kids, we all still want the money, the nice welcoming house and that car. We all still want this life that allows for the illusion of comfort and simplicity.

I leave you with this: throughout your journey to acquire 'things', is it important to have someone to hug you and tell you sweet lies about the world being a beautiful place, the child with that innocent and adorable version of your face who wets your bed and mispronounces words, the home that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe you should spend more time there? If you can honestly say that these things have never occurred to you, that you have never had the more than occasional longing for them then I say kudos. You are officially a Martian. 

Your closet conventionalist,


Don't be such a goat!


Available for Hire: Will Work for Cash

Name: Alicia Viarruel
Occupation: Uncertain
Financial Status: Nothing to declare
The Mission: Make money to get a new laptop, a jeep and a fully functional cellular phone
The Plan: Sheer Foraging

I've never consciously taken into account how important financial security is. I am willing to admit that I have always taken for granted the fact that I'll get what I want no matter what. Whether it was mom, dad, my favourite aunt or uncle, granny. I ALWAYS got what I wanted. Until one very sombre day when my forehead smacked into that withered and worn pavement that is adulthood. I now have to earn what I want (for the most part) and I find myself continuously wondering (sometimes aloud), "what the fuck happened?" Adulthood has ruined my youthful carefree spending habits. Oh how I miss the old days! Though my boyfriend would disagree and say that I'm a spoilt little runt who is completely void of the ability to spend prudently. He's totally wrong of course, however I have had to cancel a visit or two as a result of the purchase of some cute dress, scarf or must have handbag.

The fact of the matter is that I am a hopeless spendthrift living above and beyond my means. Always. I know it's easy for the first thing to be, "get a job like everyone else." And though I have seriously thought about it, that's as far as it ever goes. A stray thought running through my mind every so often whispering 'get a job', but it's very easy to ignore when you really consider the options. Offices, offices, offices. I absolutely loathe the office environment. From the suit that must be worn, to the building, to the desk and computer that i have to sit behind ALL DAY, to the cut throat hypocritical coworkers. Yikes. Majorly devastating and not to mention destructive for my free spirit and creative mind.

But now, at the stage of seeking desperate measures, I find myself actually considering purchasing some office clothes for my closet (the act of shopping is intensely more appealing than the items being purchased in this circumstance). Sitting behind a desk, typing, filing, talking to people with attitudes on the phone while desperately trying to remain calm and professional, the boss. Ugh. Aargh! I apologise, the act of leaving my comfortable bed, my comfortable house, to step into a more than UNcomfortable environment is inconceivable.

However, this is a point in my life where drastic times call for drastic measures. Literally. I found myself circling (in purple ink no less) a job to work on a farm. Yes. Me, Alicia Viarruel, even slightly interested in working on a farm doing questionable duties for an even more questionable salary. If ever you were unsure as to the context in which to use 'wtf', this would be that time to blurt it out (fake dumb blond accent and all). Though I comforted myself by saying that at least I love animals so it could be fun...Maybe. I also looked at options like:
  • Experienced Painters wanted :- Since I've painted my grandmother's house for the most part, my own house (alongside dad) INCLUSIVE OF the redesigning of my bedroom. Twice. There's some experience for your ass.
  • Maid between 25-30 years old for East Indian family. 2-3 days a week:- If it's one thing I know how to do and do well, is clean. *Has a "hi mom" moment like those kids on MTV* And I figured, how hard could it be? Unless there's a diaper-less baby running around urinating, shitting, and vomiting I think I'll be fine. And I love curry. Maybe I'll even learn how to make a roti. Why not! AND I get 2-3 free days for the rest of the working week. Shit! Only minus there being that I'm 21. Gosh darn!
  • Supermarket workers needed :- Who doesn't love the supermarket? Hello! All that food and you don't even have to hold any of it, you just get to push them around in a somewhat cool cage on wheels. Get the fuck out of here! That job could be majorly cool, throw in a free Coke every 3 hours and I'm game.
  • Hiring now. Females to do massages. Training available. Attractive salary :- In my defense, this one did seem a little questionable so there is a big purple asterix next to it. Not too sure if I'm quite willing to venture into this physical contact services. Though the mention of the attractive salary did seem...attractive. Schemers! Next!
Of course throughout all this purple pen circling I wondered how many of these people I'd actually call, but hey, I made an initial effort at least. That's step one. I think. Not too sure how "job hunting" goes. Every job (out of all 4) I've ever applied for I've gotten. Not that this helps my image but hey, let the truth be told. Two out of those 4 were office jobs (Blech!) and I despised them. Quit one and was fired from the other. Good riddance! And the salaries, all $3000 of it, were spent on clothes because I had to make myself feel better after being in that shitty office, and I would not be me if I couldn't shop for clothes and bags. I'd surely perish. The other two were in fashion. Duh. And newsflash: Jobs in fashion don't pay unless you're the designer, the model, or the photographer. Go figure!

So, in my broken degenerate state, I need to figure out a way to get some fast funds. With prostitution and pimping out of the question, I am still in search of quick reasonably earned cash to get my laptop first, my jeep second and a working phone last but certainly not least. The quest begins! I vow to circle AND call and figure it out. I'll be sure to keep you guys posted on the process. Wish me...RICH blessings and financial restraint. Tomorrow will mark day one of this journey to purposeful (and gainful) part-time employment to help me achieve or acquire the aforementioned items. So we'll start a countdown and make it interesting by setting the deadline of January 31, 2010 for the laptop. We'll work the rest out when that deadline is met. Now, excuse mu purple pen and I. We have business to conduct.

Your unemployed degenerate,


I think I'll use this in my next interview


Fight the Power: Don't Worry, Be Happy

I've never understood even the bare basics of this world. If you're good and an overall nice human being you get bitten in the ass by the angry pit bull that is the rest of the world. You are betrayed by friends that you've been nothing but good to, taken advantage of, robbed and beaten. Life tries to beat you down into the ground. Well, I correct myself, PEOPLE try to beat you down into the ground (sometimes quite literally though thankfully I've been THUS FAR spared the personal experience). If you walk the straight and narrow path be sure to keep your eyes peeled for boobie traps and manholes because they're always there to fuck you up.

The road is straight and narrow after all so preparation is best as they're near impossible to avoid. It's like being ahead in Monopoly then you're suddenly plundered into poverty by the card where you have to pay for each house and hotel or imprisoned by the go to jail card ("go to jail, go directly to jail, do not pass GO, do not collect $200," we know that bitch of a card well). You're done for. You get those cards in life too except that it isn't a game. You can't afford the luxury of being the sore loser and calling it quits to go watch tv instead.

When it's good, it's so ridiculously good that you find yourself being scared shitless at the possibility that something terrible is going to happen. And... it does. The good people in the world always go down hard. They endure more broken hearts than should be allowed any one human being. Sometimes, they may pass along some positive attributes to those smart enough to pay attention. Otherwise, they don't live long and, to be honest, die quite tragically. On the flip side, by all appearances, it pays to be a bitch! The really bad people of the world live long and hearty, get to be fat and happy, affect more lives than most good people get to (whether its through other people's ungratefulness or lack of opportunity) AND they die with a big smile on their wrinkle and blemish free faces.

Though through all of this, the thing that really irks me about being good in this life is that you really can't please anyone! If you're smiling people are disgusted or annoyed by how happy you are. If you're generous and helpful people are skeptical and always seem to think you're up to something. If you're beautiful people are jealous. If you're quiet and sensitive you're mocked and abused. If you're nice to everyone people think you're pretentious. If you're shy and keep to yourself people say it's superciliousness. People, people, people! See a trend here?

I had this way of always saying that the world is shitty but throughout the years of making my own mental notes I've come to the conclusion that people, this thing we have so inaccurately labelled humanity (the act of being human or otherwise defined as the act of being humane which is the ability to have consideration and compassion for others, which should in all actuality go hand in hand regardless), is what makes existing on this earth such a task. We've done this, created this mayhem and set this "standard" of mediocre living for ourselves. One by one we all did it. Ain't that a bitch?

These past few weeks, after experiencing these very issues I have been dwelling on the hopeless state of it all. I have been battling against crossing over to the dark side and becoming the biggest bitch you dare to know. For my own protection rather than just to be spiteful. Over the last 10 or so odd years I've become very familiar with the bullshit associated with being too nice or too trusting. I have hardened to fight against said bullshit, though still desperately trying to stay true to the me that is an absolute clown and loves to laugh and make others laugh. The me that is truly not hard at all. Like most of us who have had to go through this process, I had lost my way. I don't smile like I used to, laugh like I love to, help like I want to. People upset me. The nature of human beings upset me. I find myself angry all the time at the way the world has become.

No one smiles at you in the street, people barely so much as mumble a "good morning" or "good day". I lost my burning passion to live, TRULY live, to be as I was when things were simple and innocent, to give in to that thirst to just walk down the street smiling from ear to ear simply because I'm alive. I lost myself in the sea of shit and was drowning in it. I allowed the fucked up people who entered my life to fuck ME up rather than counting my blessings that I'm nothing like them and moving along on my mission to laugh until I die. Literally, I want to die laughing or in my sleep (because I LOVE to do both). But I know that in the attempt to protect myself from the evil people of the world through the method of acting like them, I am adding to the problem and not contributing to a solution for days ahead. I forgot to positively affect the lives of the people that I encounter on a regular basis. It's odd to miss your own self, be your own worst enemy for what you've become. As it turns out, the sacrifices we make in life, though logical, may not always be best.

I had a debate with a friend of mine about whether or not there is a middle ground between logic and emotion. And I said, "there must be something in between, there's always something in the middle that's why the word "maybe" exists. If there's middle ground I'll be sure to write a book on it and let everyone know. 'Chicken Soup' style." And though it was funny at the time, I reflect on it at this wee hour of the morning when I think best and I realize that there really is no middle ground. The word 'maybe' exists so you don't have to commit to either a 'yes' or a 'no' even if you already know the final answer. 'Maybe' is the word that allows procrastination, it was created to cater to the indecisive nature (or attempted mystery is you will) of human beings.

I admit to myself, and to you, that I was backsliding and forgot how to live. I can't remember what it's like to not try to control my own destiny, to just let go and laugh and not let PEOPLE get me down or angry. There will always be that asshole and that bitch and those who will call your name in matters that don't concern you, those who want to defame you and can't help but attempt to dirty your crystal clear waters. People won't always appreciate your brilliant light and some will want to out it just for kicks. Fuck them. Life is too good, the sky is too perfectly blue, the clouds too mesmerizing and puffy, the sun too hot and marvelous for you to be taking on the people around you and letting them fuck with you. I always like to say, if people want to exit your life wave them adieu and get the fuck on skipping down your yellow brick road. Let the wizard deal with them when you get to the top. It's going to take a while, but one by one the same way it started it can end, if we all just smile a bit more each day, say more hellos and good mornings hopefully it'll catch on and stick like herpes. Though that is a bit fucked up. Maybe.

Your obscene cynic turned...well, obscene optimist,



Vision vs. Vixen: Kid Cudi gives hope for a hoeless future in music

Kid Cudi, born Scott Mescudi, stepped on the scene, at first discreetly, with a feature on Kanye West’s ‘808’s and Heartbreak’ album on the track “Welcome to Heartbreak.” Not many knew who he was at the time, and not many more cared since he wasn’t busting out with the latest “dance craze” or rapping about Bentleys and breasts. But I believe he secured a place in the minds of hip hop fans everywhere with his debut video “Day N Nite” which premiered on BET’s 106 and Park on February 19, 2009. The video and the song completely connected. And in a time when artistes get more recognition for having the hottest club smasher over strong lyrical content and having a message, Kid Cudi takes a step up by actually focusing on the craft. He takes me back to the days where music was about talent and not all talk. I yearn for those days. I dream of the day where music will go back to its roots and make...MUSIC!

For me, Cudi really struck a chord on my favourite track ‘The Prayer’ off his debut album when he said:
“I’m thinking God made me special,
Here on purpose, so all the while till I’m gone,
Make my words important so if I slip away, if I die today,
The last thing you remember won’t be about some apple bottom jeans with the boots with the fur”

Even the hook for this song makes me feel like the music is about the art and the love for the fans:

“If I die before I wake I pray the lord my soul to take,
But please don’t cry, just know that I have made these songs for you.”

I’ve listened to this album several times, on good days and bad days and it always makes me feel happier with the mere thought that there is hope for music. Of course we have the greats like Rakim, Nas, Jay Z, Common, The Roots, Tupac and the other rappers who paved the way and set the standard for the forward movement of hip hop. But, let’s face it, they probably won’t be making records in 10 – 15 years because they’ll be old with families, settled down and resting easy on their contribution to the music industry, and maybe doing other things like charities, acting etc. The people who’ll be making records in 10 – 15 years are hopefuls like Kid Cudi, J. Cole, Gym Class Heroes, Kanye West, among others. 

It’s time for new musicians to recognise that they will set the tone for the quality of music in the future. I don’t think some musicians understand that just as Michael Jackson, Aretha Franklin, James Brown and Prince influenced them, they will serve as influences for other aspiring musicians. So please stop making shit like “Stanky Leg”, “Get Silly” and all other variations of filth filtering onto our airwaves. Make music that means something. If you don’t have the talent then get a day job and stop making me despise the radio! I really wonder how people get record deals sometimes. For the “music” that I’m hearing now, I could get a damn record deal and talk about a bunch of shit and look cute and make money. When did it become all about the glam and the gimmick? There’s too much beef and chicken heads in the kitchen. Get your shit together people! 

Now, on to one of the main reasons I like Kid Cudi. Hoeless music videos. I can dig it. The ‘Day N Nite’ video – hoeless (though there was a remix video where there was a white girl cop stripping down and 2 back up girls dancing, but you can tell it was for fun, that’s the difference), the ‘Make Her Say’ video – hoeless. I must say, I have a great appreciation for the lack of scantily clad “video vixens” and the lens is finally refocusing where it should be, on the ARTISTE. The spotlight is actually not on the girl in those black boyshorts who could make her ass jiggle like jello or about making it rain on them hoes. I hope this is an example that other rappers will follow. I look forward to the hoeless future of music videos. I understand that video vixens have their place in the world of music videos. But I prefer that they are used in a more theatrical way to tell a story. Hip hop needs to take tips from some R&B videos like Ne-Yo’s new video ‘Part of the List’ and Maxwell’s “Pretty Wings” video which is VERY sexy and guess what? No one’s half naked with breasts and ass hanging out! Yay! Kid Cudi, kudos to you. Please don’t make me have to take that back. Keep the focus on the craft and don’t get lost in translation. You’ve got my ears.

Your real music advocate,



Mo' Money, Mo' Problems

We all know the song by the late Biggie Smalls featuring the (then) oh so cool Mase with his double dimples and lazy boy slur and the unskilled (always) Puff Daddy (before any modern "updates" to his rap persona). Here's a sample of the hook just in case you're not a fan of hip hop (boo to you):

"I don't know what, they want from me
Its like the more money we come across
The more problems we see"

Now, initially I was all up on this track, singing along and shit, real feelin' the vibe, however, now that I'm grown (and as I told a friend tonight: "broke, bored and unemployed") I find myself asking a series of questions about this rap philosophy. Questions such as: WHAT THE FUCK?! What the hell are they talking about? How could having more money even remotely equate to having more problems? Were rappers on some super crack "Blue Magic" shit back then (as this is the only way i could see more money leading to more problems)? Was it solely about the amount of money it took to primp their "baby mommas" and "hoes"?

I was in a sound state of confusion, as you can well imagine now that I am imposing it on you at this very moment. I tried to calm myself down to thoroughly dissect this rap philosophy by drinking a cup of green tea (I'm such a thug). After much deep thought, I came up with what I believe to be a sensible conclusion; niggas a.k.a. black people a.k.a afrikans never know how to manage their money properly, THAT'S where the "mo' money, mo' problems" is rooted! Eureka! Trust me, I KNOW. Mo' money, Mo' problems is about blackness. Yes. Blackness. It's about what we do with our money when we get money that leads to the more problems and that leads to more money spending to fix those problems and that's how we end up with the MC Hammers of the world.

The first thing the money's spent on is getting fresh. The clothes, the car, the house, the arm candy, the club hopping, "the look". Achieving the ultimate swag is a main aspect of blackness in the rap world. It's the 'ideal' of the "bling bling" lifestyle that has some of these fools out here "making music" (ha!) right now (but don't get me started on them!! *sips more green tea*) Most rappers have their charity game going on, giving back to the community and all that goodness, this all comes after the freshness though. There's some prioritizing for your ass. Getting fresh takes a big chunk out of the "mo" in the money.

Then we have the loafer niggas. You know them. I know them. And we be broke, so imagine what rich people have to go through with them. Just straight up shameless loafer niggas. Rappers have to deal with these characters more often than the average rich person because most of them made their way of the slums or the ghetto and places of that nature. So they have to deal with the challenge of people saying, "Oh he done changed now that he rich, don't wanna help a nigga pay his rent," as they were apparently helping to pay the rent before...? Shameless blackness, wanna grab on coat tails and not make their own way. Sometimes those people are friends so it might be harder to say no. And the friends ask a LOT. Then there's the feeling of obligation to help "the marish and the parish" (as we Trinis say) and their list of "needs" that must be met is always the longest.

Next on the list is the ever prominent baby momma who demands her child support to pay for the baby's new pair of air jordans and 24K gold chain. An ABSOLUTE necessity! (:-S) Not to mention she has to get her nails did for the grammy awards. Hello! Women have and always will be a liability in some way or another. I accept that. Rappers embrace it. More so back in the days of Biggie than now although modern rappers still don't seem to know about condoms and birth control, as it seems sex ed. for adults is either unavailable or incomprehensible.

Last but not least is the maintenance of all these aforementioned expenses. Maintenance is often times a bitch. You can't have just enough money to build a house and build it just so, what if a pipe bursts? What about stocking the new kitchen every month? So, that ever sleek Bentley that they spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on and that sugary sweet white Range Rover guzzles gas and costs thousands more to maintain. So what's left of the "m" in the money goes into maintenance, not just of these assets, but also of the image that they have created for themselves. Swag is up kept not unkempt, everything must remain pristine.

This is my green-tea-clarity-induced conclusion to the "Mo' Money, Mo' Problems" PLIGHT of the rap world. My take on it however is that if having more money brings on more problems then hire a therapist (i refer to them as "the rapists" [get it?]), lay down on the fucking couch and let them instruct you so you don't have to deal with it. CLEARLY! Bring on the more money and more problems for me. I will have none of the above issues as my blackness has been diluted due to race mixing. Ha! I've beaten the man yet again!

Your seeker of mo' money no problems,


"Pimpin' nigga, you know how we do!"


R.I.P. to D.B.S.

Rest in Peace to Damn Bull Shit
I feel very compelled to write for several reasons. It intrigues me that once someone dies everyone is in mourning and everyone has all these great things to say and all's well that ends well. Well personally, I don't think that all's well that ends well. I think whoever said that maybe meant it in an entirely different context than that in which it's currently used. I think that if you have something good to say about someone it should be said to their face, not at their funerals, just as much as the bad things. I know for a fact that all the shit people say behind my back they would never say to my face. Perhaps because I'll cuff them down, or fuck them up in my "heights" way, or just act like they're not saying anything at all, in my way. But mostly I think it's because people are full of shit. The world is full of shit. I'll state my reasons...
Reason number one: Michael Jackson, the greatest artist of all time, the master of music, the brainchild who tapped into the true power of music videos, the alleged child molester, the father of 3 and "king of pop" is dead. I am very sad right now. I have been a big, huge, insane fan of his since I was a little fart with my eyes glued to the tv mesmerized by his moon walk and the ever popular "hee hee" that always made me giggle. 

I was teased to tears by my brother and uncle for being smitten with him and for being such a devoted fan. "He's touch boys," they said. "He's a bullerman," they said. "He was the greatest of all time," everyone says now. And the very people who wrote scripts with little inserts of insults of "MJ the molester" and "I wouldn't let him look at my children even on tv" and always talking about his children's faces being covered and the overly discussed issue of him hanging the child over the balcony for everyone to see, those very people are now calling in to MTV, E!, FOX NEWS, CNN, BBC to say how sad they are and how tragic it is and how great he was. 

The very same networks that tried to destroy his name with the child molestation charges who said that he was so terrible and that he was so weird and had so many psychological issues are now showing his music videos and speaking of him with reverence. I know, they're just doing their job. The boss says, "He died, keep a grave look on your face and be sure to put that note of sadness in your voice at all times. Say that we're celebrating his life not mourning his death...etc etc." I know this. I'm studying journalism for shit's sake, I know how they do it. It just sucks. That's the way it is. And I'm not taking it personally that MJ died, I'm not taking it personally what they're doing. This isn't about Michael Jackson. I just note a pattern with the world. People die, everyone's sad. People are alive, everyone talks shit. C'est la vie.
Reason number two: Facebook and Twitter. People write things along the line of; "MJ dead but what about the people who die everyday? What about the people who die right here? What about the people who die IN GENERAL?" Now, to those people who say those things, I'm glad that you're so seemingly in tune with what's going on with the world. I'm glad that you find it necessary to point out that people die everyday, because I'm sure we didn't all know that. If a friend of your were to die today and you say "R.I.P. Kevin" and someone says "Hey, fuck your Kevin, Kevin's die everyday. People lose friends to death everyday" what would your response be? Stop being an asshole. 

This is not about the people who die everyday. This is not about the people who died in Afghanistan due to senseless suicide bombing. This is not about the babies who die due to stupid ass chicken heads who throw their babies in the garbage and leave them to die. This is about the death of a very specific individual and NOTHING should be taken away from that. Get real. NO ONE can mourn the deaths of every single person who dies EVERY SINGLE DAY. Do you? 

You, the people who make these fucking senseless statements, do YOU go to church everyday and mourn the deaths of everyone who died on that day? Do you say "Oh Lord, save the souls of ALL who died today? Do you say that for the people who are hanged in prison? Do you say that for those in the electric chair? Do you say that for the rapists who were killed? The child molesters? The murderers? I mean, if you're mourning SHIT go all out, mourn for the world. R.I.P. to the whole world right? Bullshit. Pure, unsanitary, stinking bullshit. When someone dies and people want to mourn that person or feel sad that that person is gone, don't take away from that. Whether they're famous or not, it's their choice. You morn for the world. Go ahead.
Reason number 3: Being a human being is beginning to become synonymous with being a hypocrite. People say things like, "Live everyday like it's your last!", "Love like you've never been hurt!" etc etc. I shit on that. We cannot realistically live everyday like it's our last. We make plans. We say "Yeah cinema lime on Friday"...and it's Monday. If we want to live like we're going to die on that very day EVERY DAY then we would never make plans. If we love like we've never been hurt the world would be delusional. Everyone would make the same mistakes over and over again if we were all to follow this happy-go-lucky philosophy, willing to give everyone "the benefit of the doubt". People you LOVE are alive right now and you're holding grudges. I'm doing it myself.

People you hate would die and you say "my condolences" and you don't mean it. Is it worth being a hypocrite just to follow protocol by saying what's polite and proper? Why do we say shit behind people's backs then we see them smile and laugh and drink with them? Is it all WORTH IT? I feel like life is becoming more and more unnecessarily complex. We're all being tangled in these webs and caught up in so much. 

I constantly feel like I'm being sucked into a black hole of nothingness. Being dragged into "the way" and drifting further and further away from MY way. There's always protocol, there's always the way it "should be" done. I just had the most insignificant argument with my best friend over the way things should be done and what the "necessary" steps are. It was so stupid, the drama - unnecessary, the end result - stupid. And if I die in my sleep tonight (because that is my preferred way of dying) it'll be even more stupid. STUPID. I don't use that word for lack of a better one, I use it because it's the most simple, most straight forward way to express how I feel about the way people act. I feel like the world is shit.
I'm upset. I'm a hypocrite too. I'm done.
Your Allycat is currently self absorbed and miserable.


The Reality of Relationships

"To cheat yourself out of love is the most terrible deception, an eternal loss for which there is no reparation" - Soren Kierkegard

In truth I have absolutely no idea who George Santayana is, however from what he said here I'd say the guy has a pretty good head on his shoulders. Here I am drinking some coffee and well, was supposed to be writing an investigative article due tomorrow but matters of the heart are the most important! Fact is, I am almost 100% sure that I'm going to fail that class so that explains my somewhat flagrant disregard. Back to the point, I believe love is one of the most important things in this entire world, and to find love, even if it's just once and even if it failed, to experience that REAL love is as close to flying through clouds as any of us mere humans could ever experience (unless you're rich enough to have your own G5 jet in which case you are right up there with love, adrenaline rush and the miracle of childbirth, good for you!). Fear of hurt, rejection and heartbreak should never act as deterrents when dealing with love. Throw it all in the wind and just say "fuck it." Trust in the I, love is profound.

And, on the flip side, it's also many other things. Like confusing. Yes, that's right, CONFUSING! There is no book, no absurdly superficial article in a woman's magazine advice column that explains love and clarifies everything for us. And the reason for that is that there is no explanation for love, nothing can justify it, all the adjectives can't precisely describe it, no movie can truly emulate it, and no one person can make it easy. Most of our time in the initial stages of a relationship is spent getting to know your "significant other", favourite colour, favourite movies, general dislikes, just the basics. 

Stage two presents more revealing information like their number of sexual partners, why their previous relationships didn't work, any issues with the family, etcetera etcetera. Now, beyond this point is where it gets complicated because somewhere along the way you have sex, you get all emotionally entangled in the other person, you start fighting, and now is when you feel the ever predominant emotion that is confusion.

They want this, but then again they don't want this and they just said that because they didn't want to express what they REALLY felt. They're breaking up with you then telling you how much they love you and making up with you. They start showing different sides of themselves that make you think twice about if this is the same person you got together with __ months ago. They suddenly have issues with things they never had issues with before and are thereby just stressing your ass out! They just fucking confuse you! I mean, this part makes you feel like saying, "this is some bullshit right here!" But of course you don't say that because now you're in so deep that there's no way you're going to give up just like that right? But how do you know when to stop trying? How do you really know when enough is enough or if you should just stick it out because hey, no one said it was easy.

I'll tell you how my friends. My sole purpose on this earth is to tell you this! NO ONE KNOWS! Everyone likes to act like they know and sound like they know, especially old people, don't talk to old people about this shit, because it's a general consensus that age equals wisdom but that doesn't stand true for every old fart on the planet. Not to mention the fact that love has evolved, yes the old crusties know the basics and that's enough most times but sometimes you need to dig a lot deeper than basic. Love will make you do things that you would've bet your bank account that you would never do. It's very much like being possessed, you have no idea what you're doing, the love demon has taken over all your controls. You're helpless.

This is not to say that everyone will find their one true love and there's someone for everyone and all that. That's just shit people say to keep you optimistic and hopefully decrease the suicide rate. The truth is, not everyone will experience this type of euphoria in their lifetime. But, on the bright side, that means that they can have sex with whatever random hot person (or close personal sex buddy) they choose! They don't have to commit to anything but life and their pet cat (which may also be interchanged for pussy or penis within the context of this sentence). Life is also very fun and fulfiling for them, trust me. I could grow old and alone and have a fun fucking time doing it, and everyone should keep that in mind. Don't make yourself miserable for something that wasn't even intended for everyone. That's like being bitter about not being born with blue eyes, everyone can't fucking have blue eyes. Deal with it.

Recently, my opinion on love has changed a lot. I never used to think about love. If it happens it happens, if I lose it it's fine, if I never get it I'm good. I still think like that for the most part. The difference is that now I've experienced the real deal and I have a lot more respect for people's emotions and for love itself. I also have a new admiration for the old couples that "made it" and are still in love. They make me kind of optimistic. Kind of. At the end of the day I realise that you have to make your own love, whether it's self-love (and yes by that I do mean masturbation) or love of another. The reality of relationships is that you get to choose your own reality by the decisions you make. Make good ones!

Your dose of contradictory optimistic realism,



The TRUTH Behind Global Warming

I was hit upside my head recently by the latest episode of one of my favourite shows, Chelsea Lately on the E! network. As it turns out, scientists are now saying that overweight people are greatly contributing to, and may be one of the main causes of global warming. The reason being that they eat more, hence increasing production, and they also drive more which is contributing to the amount of carbon monoxide in the air. I'm guessing that they also shit more, and fart more, maybe even throw up more depending on what they're eating...who knows? Meanwhile, fat people everywhere are going : "oh fuck..."

It's both hilarious and quite unfortunate that obese people are now on the chopping block for global warming. As if they don't face enough ridicule, now people are going to want to shoot them on sight for being "responsible" for the increasing death rate of polar bears and other animals that live in cold places that can't get around on ice caps anymore. Everytime someone walks by an obese person now they're going to be like, "Thanks a lot asshole!!!" (picture it...hahaha! i mean...tisk tisk tisk). Sigh.

Granted, those scientists actually do have a point with regards to the increase in production and the carbon monoxide but why not say it's because of someone else? Why not say, hey all you pageant delegates you're destroying our fucking environment with your hairspray bitches! Or blame all the club hopping celebrities who drive from place to place all in ONE night, why not also go so far as to say that the alcohol on their breath is contributing to...something. Hey, I'm no scientist ok.

So judging by this brand spanking new reason for global warming, the government's plan is apparently to get all the fat people to become even more depressed than most of them already are and make them all eat themselves to death so we can then go on with our lives in a global warming free way! Yes, let the conspiracy sink into your stomachs because we can't drive to get things to eat now, we'll contribute to global warming people! Forget the new environmentally friendly cars that run on corn oil and saliva and all natural things of that nature, fat people haven't heard about those, just the rest of us "normal" folks! It's baffling to me that these facts are revealed and then...that's it. There's nothing like, ok we realise that overweight persons are contributing greatly to the problems the WORLD is currently experiencing as a result of global warming so we're going to launch several free programs to help people deal with food addiction and encourage them to change their diets. Nooo. What? Taking actions like that? Absurd, absolutely out of the question.

The fact of the matter is that global warming is taking place now at such a drastic rate because we have all been idiots and didn't think it would happen so we threw things out the window, rolled around in CFCs, didn't recycle as often as we should and just generally didn't take the care of the environment into consideration in our day to day lives. That's it. So don't blame the fatties, they're people too...just bigger people with bigger needs that should be met goddammit!

These are just my thoughts for now, don't really have that much time today so take this as an appetizer and expect the main course soon like in a restaurant with bad service you have to wait 2 hours betwen meals, which will actually be...2days in this case.

Your other cause of global warming,




Tonight has to be one of the most difficult nights of my life, exaggerating a tad bit but still. I am now realising that as nice as it is to know that I have been able to demonstrate some serious self control over the last 2 years and do that well promoted thing called “abstaining”…this shit is HARD! I don’t know if it was solely triggered by Janet Jackson’s song “Discipline” off her new Discipline album which I replayed approximately 20 times because it is sooooo sexy, she’s just oozing sex all over the place check it out yourself and tell me if you don’t feel an immediate increase in your “drive” .

This is insane. Although I am usually all for the self service, I don’t even think that could cut it tonight, I think I just need to say some hard prayers. Maybe I should just go to church right now and jump in the holy water (totally risking the fact that I might vaporise due to my sinful thoughts). I’m trying to take deep breaths, do some exercising and release the tension (first time I’ve officially exercised in a WHILE too so yay for me), I ran around my house like twice too just to keep my mind occupied, the only thing I didn’t try was the cold shower because (a) I hate cold water and (b) I don’t think it would be an effective method anyway unless I’m drinking cold water while soaking in it (and by cold I mean deathly cold, you get my point?!). And since I have not published a note in such a long time (on account that I keep running into a block and I want the notes to flow) and my brain is now hitting a million miles per second on this topic…I HAD to write since the words were just flowing out of me (pun absolutely intended). So let’s do this, let’s talk about sex. I will want you to post responses on this for sure because I want some feedback on how you guys deal with sexual frustration of this magnitude. And listen, all you sex-havers, do not post up anything like “well I just call up my bf/gf and show them the scene,” because you will only make matters worse so be sensitive to my plight!

Let’s start from the beginning. Here I was just relaxing on a nice Monday evening, just took a nice bath relishing the hot water and my victoria’s secret body wash, towel dried, moisturised with some more victoria’s secret and threw on a t-shirt and as usual sat in front of the laptop with my legs crossed on my bed, my big mug of Indian chai tea nearby, had no class today so, I’m on the internet doing some research on random things to write about. Everything was normal. Then all of a sudden it occurs to me, “Ally what is this familiar feeling that you are feeling?” And yes, I do mean familiar, not because I’m celibate doesn’t mean I don’t “feel the urge” and things of that nature, on the contrary I feel it QUITE often. So I just kind of brushed it off because I felt too lazy to take another bath. Then as I’m watching a video on YouTube of B.Scott singing this “Discipline” song by Janet Jackson it occurs to me that the feeling is intensifying due to the nature of the song. So I click on the link because it was a just a snippet that B played and I wanted to listen to the song in its entirety.

Now people, the lyrics go like this: “I misbehaved, done some things I know I shouldn’t do. I touched myself, even though you told me not to. You commanded me to wait for you. Ooh I tried. But I can smell you on my sheets, taste you on my skin so vividly. Daddy, I disobeyed you. Now I want you to come punish me. I need some discipline tonight, I‘ve been very bad. Make me cry, daddy make me cry ooohhhhhh.” NOW TELL ME THIS! What?! How, just how, am I supposed to respond to that OTHER than to just feel like…mmm? Janet didn’t need to do that to me tonight, she didn’t, she’s very wrong for whispering those lyrics like that and tickling my fancy with that sexy grinding beat. God dammit! I feel so violated, like she just busted into my brain and turned the words into lyrics and sang it back to me. I need to pause and take a deep breath.

So yes, now that I have composed myself I will continue. So Janet Jackson dropped it on me hot and sweaty and I am now dealing with the aftermath. And I KNOW, I just know, this has happened to some of you already. I’m sure on many an occasion you have just been minding your own business and you would see an image, a video or hear a song that just makes you feel like you could call someone up and have some hot, sweaty, kissing, licking, nibbling, rhythmic grinding, moaning…you get the point. So ANYWAY! I’m getting a little sidetracked with the imagery (like wow), sometimes it doesn’t even have to be something you’ve seen or heard, it could just be a memory of someone, of something that they did, of something that they said, or something that you did WITH them. There is always someone that did that one thing that nobody else could ever quite master. And now, in some moment of silence, it slivers back into your mind and you savour the memory like the taste of fine wine. It happens to even the most restrained, most contained, most inactive of us all. Hence, my plight.

What I really would like to know is how do you deal with it? As someone who has decided to remain inactive until…whenever, how do you deal with this kind of situation? I’m not trying to be a super human and say that I could just turn it off, because I most certainly cannot, if only it were that simple and I could just play with a switch then I would (why did I just say play with a switch??). But in all the running around the house, exercising, dancing, singing folly that I did to try to shake it off, it is still all up on me. The tingle is tingling and the hormones are being overwhelmingly hormonal. And I know that I can’t do what I’m thinking about doing, or let me choose my words more carefully, won’t do what I’m thinking about doing. I know if I pick up my phone right now I will regret it before morning because it’s just a whole awkward situation. Those who know me know that I tend to live in my mind, so there will be a million things I would be thinking about doing and I would leave it as a thought because I’m a little punkish but STILL! RIGHT NOW, I think I would literally JUMP out the box and do everything and explore every avenue that I have ever wanted to sexually explore. Lord have mercy yes. I need some kind of…something other than what I’m thinking about.

So people, I want you to rock out with your cocks out and tell me what you do to curb the urge. I need some intervention.

Your horny as a dog in heat celibate freak,


Love and Marriage

The first thing that comes to mind is most likely the Frank Sinatra song, made popular by the “Married with Children” sitcom in the 90s for which it was the theme song. “Love and marriage, go together like a horse and carriage. This I tell you brother, you can't have one without the other.” The question is therefore, which one is doing all the work while the other rests behind and is carried along? Is love the horse or the carriage? Or is it that it's not at all like a horse and carriage but more so like a horse and its jockey with one constantly riding the other in the hopes of eventually achieving success? And who says you can't have one without the other anyway (besides Frankie)? Why can't a horse just be a horse grazing in the fields, eating grass and galloping off to some unknown destination? Poor horses...always being used in analogies for something else. Can't a horse just be a horse these days?! Sometimes I feel like marriage is a sham. All one big shenanigan conjured up by some bored elite of society back in the days before Joseph married a preggers Mary (Bet that was an event in itself. Kind of takes the fun out of it for Jo, “oh shit, she's knocked up already? I didn't even get to touch it yet! Thanks a lot oh Holy One!”). Sorry for diverging, so anyhoos, who said two people have to get married to live happily ever after? As a matter of fact (I think) statistics show that less and less of us are “crossing the finish line” anyway, which further emphasizes my point. What's the purpose of it all? Wedding bells, a cliché white dress for an impure “sexually active” female, a lame tux for the male, the same old vows read by the same old crusty priest, relatives you hardly see and people you don't know (who were probably dragged to the wedding against their will or just came for the free food), a big stupid “just married” sign on a car which only means that other drivers are going to blare their horns at you (thank goodness for my dear friend Motrin Rx) and not only that but you have to sign documents. Oh great. You have one form of work to do another. And how could I forget? The rice being thrown at you by the people you invited to this joyous occasion who are now practically pelting the stale hard rice at you like they're punishing you for either getting married, or making them sit through the whole process. Oh joy, here comes the bride! Which by the way has to be one of the most annoying, most overplayed, most SLAUGHTERED songs since it's fucking creation. I bet even the composer didn't even know what he was getting himself into otherwise he would've probably passed on it. And people have the audacity to make remixes! Shame on you! Maybe people do it for the bling. You get to flash around this gold ring on this odd finger of your left hand. If you think about it, more so for the woman, the ring is really how people gauge their approval of the marriage. The convo goes something like this: Newly engaged hopeful: “Tom proposed last night Suzy! And I said yes!” Shallow future wedding attendee: “Really! Let me see the ring!” *Newly engaged hopeful presents the odd finger of the left hand for inspection to the shallow future wedding attendee* For a barely visible diamond: “Oh that's good Jenny. Hope it goes well.” For a huge rock (that practically renders your finger immobile): “Oh how wonderful! When is the wedding Jen? He must really love you to give you a rock like that!” (let's all have a sad moment for the poor lover boy...ok that's enough) Disclaimer: For the protection of all involved, names have been changed. Sad, but true. Sigh. What has the world come to? A thought just came to me: Maybe the bigger the diamond the lower the chances are that the marriage is going to work out. Think about it before you write it off in your mind as pure folly. Ok, so back in the days your grandparents/great grandparents got married and the wedding ring had a diamond on it that looked like a speck of glitter more than anything else. Meanwhile, your parents are on the verge of collapse with a medium sized rock, and your brother bought his fiancé a huge fancy rock and they're divorced after 2 years. Boom. Right? Right? Ok, so maybe it is a nonsensical theory but it deserves some thought. Our grandparents/great grandparents have made it through wars, recessions, poverty and strife, widespread disease and numerous affairs and these days marriages can barely survive a fucking argument. Different time you say? People are more educated and independent and have an “i don't take no shit” attitude you say? Well I say bullshit. It's not about right and wrong choices, it's not like our predecessors had a heightened sense of judgment that skipped our generation. So I think we can safely rule out the fact that people choose more hastily because I know people who have “courted” for several years and then got married and it all fell to shit. So what is it then? Has the human race evolved into this impatient mass of self-serving individuals who are only aware of the general concept of love but have no real idea what it means? Food for thought...and now...i resign until next time. The hiatus is over. I'm back bitches. Stay tuned. Your future anti-cliché bride/wedding guest (for the food don't get it twisted), Allycat

Single and Unavailable

The myth is that once you’re single you’re free to run and frolic around and do whatever - and in some cases whoever- you want. But many people have never heard of being single and UNavailable, and when it is heard of they still can’t fully wrap their heads around the idea that a single person could not want to be in a relationship - or have some wild sexcapades all up and through their houses (or other people’s houses, or public places, or in cars, or…you get the point) or even an innocent suck face fling. Well, let me introduce you to the world of the single and unavailable. A world that I’ve been inhabiting for a few months now that I must say has been working out quite well.

In modern times, the under 25 crowd is considered to be carefree (which is the new word for loose, it‘s like an a.k.a.) and unattached and that is supposedly the accepted way of life for that age group; not ready to settle down because of a chronic fear of commitment and most of the girls are living by “girls just wanna have fun” and the guys just want to “make love in this club” and play with the fun bags of the most forthcoming female (and oh they are never scarce or hard to find). This is the age of the one night stands, grand slams, cinema darkness feel up, and back of the party finger fun flings. Not that I’m banishing them to hell or anything, life is one big test throughout which we all make individual choices and their choices are not mine to condemn.

But for me and the rest of the single and unavailable population, fun just entails a bit of partying here and there, some harmless flirting, a few drinks with friends and just scoping the guys from a safe distance because my curiosity never propels me to cross the room and engage in flirtatious conversation. Not really my thing. Not because of “stushness” or cowardice…ok maybe a little bit of cowardice, but more so because most times when I look at one guy, I can’t really tell him apart from any other guy. It’s like they’re all carbon copies, in the same shoes, and clothes, and hats, with the same “swagger” and the same attitude. Even the ones who try to be all “different” and mysterious are all the same because they’re all huddled up in a corner trying to look all indifferent and carefree and cool with their pretty boy dreads or their mohawks…different and mysterious my ass. So while they may be aesthetically pleasing (some of them only so under the influence of a few drinks and under the dim club lights) I am convinced that the majority of the time, when they open their mouth and begin to speak in their broken grammar “cool dude” lingo I’ll have the uncontrollable urge to make a U-turn and go home, curl up with a cup of tea on my bed and read a book.

Being single and unavailable also provides a lot of interesting experiences I must say. My friends always try to pimp me off to the sexiest available bachelor who is "so your type Ally!" which is odd considering I don't HAVE a type but I love them still because they always make me laugh to say the least. And people in general tend to act like you’re an alien or something, like they cannot possibly fathom why you would be single and just…single. They don’t get that you’re comfortable just being alive without having any man/woman to think about right now and leave well enough alone. But being the Curious George monkeys that we human beings are, everyone prefers to probe and try to squeeze out your answers to the most ridiculous questions like, “you have no reason to be alone, so why are you even single?” (yes and they do say “alone” like I’m living in a cave at the end of the world and my only contact with other living things is when I see bats and birds fleetingly fly by) and they make it seem like it’s insane to actually want to just CHILL and be a little introspective and spend some time by yourself, like our sole purpose on this earth is to spend every waking moment in a relationship or just with someone else in general. Honestly, sometimes I’m so tempted to give an outrageous answer and say something like “well the truth is, I’m not really from earth, I’m an extraterrestrial from planet F.OFF and if I were to mate with your human men their penises will grow to monstrous sizes and develop a mind of their own and take over the fucking world. Does that seem like a good enough reason?”… I am such a bitch at times. But that’s ok. It’s absolutely warranted.

I have also noted within my time of being in this single and unavailable phase that it’s only when you don’t really want to be in a relationship that people want you to be in relationships with them. And then the people who you would quite possibly sacrifice your status for don’t want anything to do with the relationship idea. The contradictions in life amuse me, quite often providing me with my daily kix. And I have also ever so acutely observed that people in relationships try to make us single people bear their miserable burden when they constantly bombard us with all their love woes. They go on and on… and on and you have to give advice on all these situations (that you have no personal experience with) and they always try to pass it off like “well what would YOU do?” But because I like to fancy myself as being a good friend (I’ve even been diagnosed with “mommy syndrome”) I give them the advice that I think is best and most of the time it’s from the heart but the rest of the time I’m thinking…“Well iiiiii wouldn’t do shit, that’s why I’m here and you’re there. DUH!”

I wish more people would look at being single as an opportunity to work on yourself and fix the things that damn well overdue for some fixing. Like if you know you’re a self-centred ass then don’t go running into a relationship making the other person’s life a living hell since it’s all about YOU…because guess what? You’re going to end up right back where you started. Yes being single is about having fun and keeping your options open and just seeing what’s the scene with the world of the opposite sex. But there’s fun, and then there are stupid things people do that they know are damn stupid but they do it anyway and then say it’s “fun.” Like having unprotected sex with a total stranger because they’re “hot” and busted some good wine and grind moves on you a mere few hours ago at the club, is dumb. It may seem fun at the time but that’s a prime example of the dumb (not to mention irresponsible) shit people do and call “fun.” Just make the best of being single and do what's best for you in the long run to make all this time of being single actually mean something when the dust and noise settles (so exerting all your stamina on strangers and maybes might not be such a good thing by the time you find the love of your life because you'll be tired as hell!)

Me, I’m totally okay not fucking the world and everyone in it and instead choosing to just distribute sexy moves in the club and then taking my sexless ass home and take a nice long bath and enjoy the hot water. Interpret that however you choose (but if you do interpret it how I would’ve interpreted it, NOTHING is wrong with self serviced pleasure. LOL!) Meanwhile, I’ll be here living and looking at the bats and birds fly by making sure that when my time comes to burden some single friend with my love woes that I’ll actually be a full individual who won’t drive my “significant other” to enroll themselves in a mental institute by the time it’s over. I’ll keep shopping around the malls and perhaps something good and worth investing in will pop up in between all the overpriced bullshit.

Your single and unavailable alien,