A Dying Childs Wish...

A little boy named Shane Bernier is 7 years old and he is unfortunately dying of Leukemia. His only wish is to make it into the Guinness Book of World Records. To do this he would like to receive as many birthday cards as possible. We would like to help! Perhaps you can use your own network of friends and family to make this boy's dream come true. It is a small expense for Shane's dream.


Shane's Birthday is May 30th.

What a great thing it would be for this little boy to not only get as many birthday cards as possible but to get them from around the world.

I'm asking that you help this boy by buying him a birthday card and sending it to him, think of it as a favour to me ;)

Shane Bernier
Box 484
Lancaster, Ontario
Canada
K0C 1N0

Advice Time Again...

Advice time... sure I'm looking for yours... always... thought you guys knew thats what you were here for...

What do you do if you are encountering almost nothing but negativity from a family member and/or a friend of yours?

See I try to live away from negativity - but every so often (since I am human) I complain - however I try to stay away from people who do nothing but complain or only see the dark side of things - But when ya love the person because they are someone close to you, how would you deal with it... I'm trying to find a way to deal with it - yet not lose this person in my life.

If you have any ideas or suggestions please by all means let me know - usually I tell them to fuck off - but I don't really wanna do that this time with family.

Dar and Scott

My mothers mother... my Grandmother... must be wondering what fucked up lottery she won...

My Grandfather that just passed on Saturday was my Grandmothers first husband... they had a bunch of kids including my mom...
Each remarried...


My Grandmother married another man and had two more children... and I'm quite sure that my grandmother right now is sitting in the hospital in Hamilton... for each of those two children are there...

I had an uncle, his name was Scott... his place of residence for most of my life was behind some bars... I only met him a few times that I can remember... his place of residence now is Hamilton General hospital where he lays not waking up. He is and will remain to be brain dead. He has been there for a couple of years now.

I have an aunt, her name is Dar... she was one of my cool aunt's introduced me to all kinds of different types of music, she would wear leather jackets and she was a helluva artist. I remember her telling me one night when I got home from work as a teenager (I worked in a bar and got home about 2 am) she turns to me and says 'I'm gay' as I was watching tv... my response 'I know' ... thats one of the last times I saw my Aunt Dar. Yesterday I got a phone call, while grieving over the death of my Grandfather.

Aunt Dar's in the hospital in ICU and it doesn't look good...
Her new place of residence... Hamilton General Hospital... I hope that she at least gets to share the room with her brother since they've not been in the same room in probably 15 years.

My Grandmothers two youngest children lay in hospital beds, one for all intents and purposes dead the other dying. After hearing that her first husband has passed over the weekend.

My heart is very heavy right now... but I can't even begin to imagine how my Grandmothers must be...

Thank you for all the wishes and condolences from everyone...

R.I.P Richard Murrell

In the last few years I didn't get to see him often... Frankly I didn't really want too... and even tho that sounds mean I had my own stupid reasons for it...

often I found him somewhat embarrassing... crude... rude... racist...perverted... and I don't deal well with sick people...

He had sores on his body... he was missing all but one tooth... he smelled kinda bad usually... and was usually complaining about how ill he was or trying to tell us he was losing weight... (which we all knew he really wasn't)... he was loud and obnoxious...

But he was my grandpa...

He was my Grandfather and he was my Godfather...

I don't know if I was his favourite when I was growing up but I know that he was mine...

He taught me the meaning of "pull my finger" he'd always make me laugh when I was younger and later on snicker with the "Wreck d'em dayum near killed him" jokes...

I went to see him yesterday in the hospital and was there for a couple of hours... We've been saying for years that he had died years ago but just refused to lay down... Yesterday when I went to go see him, he had stopped responding to anything... he hadn't been coherent for days... he was laying in his bed with a line of oxygen hooked to him and an iv ... and his breathing was so shallow... raspy and so shallow...

I'm glad I had decided to not bring the kids in to see him... they can remember him as the grumpy old guy who'd complain that they were too loud and try to convince them to pull his finger from christmas time.

My Grandpa died last night after my visit.

It's still going to take me awhile to get used to saying that.

So in memory of my poor white trash smelly ol Grandad (and he knows I say that with all my heart)....

"Pull My Finger!"

Kudos To You Dad...

KNOXVILLE, Tenn. - A father says he wasn't trying to shame his 14-year-old son when he made the boy wear a large sandwich-board sign saying, "I abused and sold drugs."

"I'm not out here doing this to humiliate my son," the father told WATE-TV as the teenager walked up and down the sidewalk Wednesday in front of Cedar Bluff Middle School.

"I'm doing this because I love him," he said. "We do have an extreme drug problem in America, and maybe it's time for extreme measures that parents need to take to monitor this problem that we have."

The man wasn't identified by the station to protect the confidentiality of the son, but he appeared on camera. The son's face was not shown.

The father said he recently learned after reading the boy's MySpace page that his son was involved with marijuana and OxyContin. That's when he decided to act, and the boy agreed to the punishment.

After a short time, the school's principal soon came out and asked the father to call it off, which he did.

By then the boy said he'd learned his lesson. "This is embarrassing. I ain't going to be doing it again," the boy said. "Drugs are for losers. That's all I can say."

******

Ok so here's my take on this... since you knew I had to have one if I was sharing the article....

That principal needed to mind his own fucking business... first off... it was the parent that was teaching the lesson here... secondly... he should take a page from that fathers book...

if you had more kids wearing sandwich boards and walking the streets as a punishment to a crime... how many crimes you think they're going to commit...

I say Kudos to this father... good on ya... hopefully you helped stop your kid from selling and doing drugs... I think the principal needs to take a fuckin' chill pill and get on board... what happened to the kids being scared into respecting authority?... believe me.. it actually worked...

Maybe the principal needs to wear a sign and parade up and down the street that says "I'm a pussy walk all over me"

Why would he in his right mind think he was in a place to tell that father to stop...?

Are You Ready To Get Off Your Ass?

Are you ready to wake up, get off your ass and move??

I Applaud You Mr Fierstein

"Our Prejudices, Ourselves"

AMERICA is watching Don Imus's self-immolation in a state of shock and awe. And I'm watching America with wry amusement.

Since I'm a second-class citizen -- a gay man -- my seats for the ballgame of American discourse are way back in the bleachers. I don't have to wait long for a shock jock or stand-up comedian to slip up with hateful epithets aimed at me and mine. Hate speak against homosexuals is as commonplace as spam. It's daily traffic for those who profess themselves to be regular Joes, men of God, public servants who live off my tax dollars, as well as any number of celebrities.

In fact, I get a good chuckle whenever someone refers to "the media" as an agent of "the gay agenda." There are entire channels, like Spike TV, that couldn't fill an hour of programming if required to remove their sexist and homophobic content. We've got a president and a large part of Congress willing to change the Constitution so they can deprive of us our rights because they feel we are not "normal."

So I'm used to catching foul balls up here in the cheap seats. What I am really enjoying is watching the rest of you act as if you had no idea that prejudice was alive and well in your hearts and minds.

For the past two decades political correctness has been derided as a surrender to thin-skinned, humorless, uptight oversensitive sissies. Well, you anti-politically correct people have won the battle, and we're all now feasting on the spoils of your victory. During the last few months alone we've had a few comedians spout racism, a basketball coach put forth anti-Semitism and several high-profile spoutings of anti-gay epithets.

What surprises me, I guess, is how choosy the anti-P.C. crowd is about which hate speech it will not tolerate. Sure, there were voices of protest when the TV actor Isaiah Washington called a gay colleague a "faggot." But corporate America didn't pull its advertising from "Grey's Anatomy," as it did with Mr. Imus, did it? And when Ann Coulter likewise tagged a presidential candidate last month, she paid no real price.

In fact, when Bill Maher discussed Ms. Coulter's remarks on his HBO show, he repeated the slur no fewer than four times himself; each mention, I must note, solicited a laugh from his audience. No one called for any sort of apology from him. (Well, actually, I did, so the following week he only used it once.)

Face it, if a Pentagon general, his salary paid with my tax dollars, can label homosexual acts as "immoral" without a call for his dismissal, who are the moral high and mighty kidding?

Our nation, historically bursting with generosity toward strangers, remains remarkably unkind toward its own. Just under our gleaming patina of inclusiveness, we harbor corroding guts. America, I tell you that it doesn't matter how many times you brush your teeth. If your insides are rotting your breath will stink. So, how do you people choose which hate to embrace, which to forgive with a wink and a week in rehab, and which to protest? Where's my copy of that rule book?

Let me cite a non-volatile example of how prejudice can cohabit unchecked with good intentions. I am a huge fan of David Letterman's. I watch the opening of his show a couple of times a week and have done so for decades. Without fail, in his opening monologue or skit Mr. Letterman makes a joke about someone being fat. I kid you not. Will that destroy our nation? Should he be fired or lose his sponsors? Obviously not.

But I think that there is something deeper going on at the Letterman studio than coincidence. And, as I've said, I cite this example simply to illustrate that all kinds of prejudice exist in the human heart. Some are harmless. Some not so harmless. But we need to understand who we are if we wish to change. (In the interest of full disclosure, I should confess to not only being a gay American, but also a fat one. Yes, I'm a double winner.)

I urge you to look around, or better yet, listen around and become aware of the prejudice in everyday life. We are so surrounded by expressions of intolerance that I am in shock and awe that anyone noticed all these recent high-profile instances. Still, I'm gladdened because our no longer being deaf to them may signal their eventual eradication.

The real point is that you cannot harbor malice toward others and then cry foul when someone displays intolerance against you. Prejudice tolerated is intolerance encouraged. Rise up in righteousness when you witness the words and deeds of hate, but only if you are willing to rise up against them all, including your own. Otherwise suffer the slings and arrows of disrespect silently.

Harvey Fierstein is an actor and playwright.

Some Of Those Chain Letters Make Sense...

Did you know? before you go to sleep at night there is one person thinking of you. They want you they want to kiss you, They want to be with you they are always thinking about you before they go to sleep at night they are longing to be with you.



At least thats what a chain letter told me ;)

How Many You Have?

so I got to thinking after my last post about the jpg's and I started to wonder how many mp3's I have...

so yeah bored... sitting here... I did a search...

*drumroll*

11,769

yep that's right Eleven Thousand Seven Hundred and Sixty Nine mp3's on my system...


Shhh.... *looks around*

How Many .jpgs Do You Have??

So my sister says to me the other day "Hey do you still have all those pics from mom's birthday party?"

I'm thinking hey no problem they're on my computer...

I start searching... suddenly I realize hours have gone by and I've not yet found my mom's birthday pics... I find three years of my cousins kids birthdays... I find a couple years of my kids birthday parties... hmm

can't find mom's birthday... I go to the trusty start menu and hit that ever so handy "search" button... because see... I can't even remember what any of them were named... I just know that they're jpgs.... so oh so smart my types in *.jpg into the search field thinking... enh I can't have that many pictures I'm sure I'll find one quick enough find out what file in what directory on which hard drive it's on... thinking...

heh... in the infamous words of my son Keenan "easy peasy lemon squeezey" right....
I hit enter for it to search the computer... just a little less then 5 minutes later the lil dog with it's little waggley tail tells me... hey guess what I found some jpgs.... and I was such a good boy... I found 16, 953 of them....

fuck me!! I have almost 17 000 pictures on my computer??

so now I sit and wonder how long til I find one from my mom's birthday party.... wish me luck... lol