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Wednesday, July 30, 2003

Ambiguously gay:

Happy nipples!I try to avoid getting political in this 'blog because people get really passionate about politics and before you know it, civilized, calm conversations degenerate into mud-slinging and name-calling and sometimes eye-gouging, and I don't really like engaging in too many hyphenated activities, so I keep my opinions to myself. Or, I bore people with them in real life. Right now, though, I'm kinda pissed off, so I figured I'd go ahead and bore you with my views, too.

This morning, the POTUS stated during a press conference that he opposed gay marriage and would seek to have legislation introduced that would explicitly ban it. Now, you might think that the reason this pisses me off is that I want to run off and marry a girl, which is not the case. I've been married before and I want no part of that particular institution. The reason this pisses me off so much is because I am a big believer in the rights of the individual, and I think that by denying a large number of the population (and believe me, there are more of us than you think) the same rights as others, the government has essentially created a second, lower class of citizens, a situation which is expressly forbidden in the U.S. Constitution.

Gay people who want to get married are not asking for special rights, they are asking for the same rights that the married, heterosexual couple next door has: civil benefits that are only available to married couples, such as tax incentives, the right to visit a spouse in the hospital, inheritance and property rights, etc. Nobody is asking the government to force religious institutions to recognize gay marriage - we're supposed to have a separation between church and state, and nobody wants to change that. Gay people simply want to have the same legal rights as straight people. I don't think that's too much to ask. Neither do several Canadian courts. Think our Supreme Court will be far behind? Even if a law is passed that outlaws gay marriage, it may inadvertently set into motion the legal proceedings that will lead to gay marriage becoming legal in the U.S., because such a law would give gay people the opportunity to bring suit against the government for violation of the equal protection rights afforded every U.S. citizen under the 5th & 14th amendments of the constitution.

And who knows - if you give gay people the right to get married, maybe they'll actually treat the institution of marriage better than straight people have. I'll bet my 13th spinal vertebra that the overall divorce rate would go down if "them damn queers" were finally allowed to get married.

Update: Take action.

babbled by Kat @ 11:47:00 AM | |

Monday, July 28, 2003


There's nothing better than lesbians making out, is there?I had grand plans this weekend to either clean my house or go to Vegas, but instead I went to Orange County, and if you live in the Los Angeles area and you know what O.C. is like then you know that I must have been really desperate to avoid housework. I went down there because one of my friends said, "Hey lady, you have not been here to visit in a really fucking long time, and it's only like 40 miles away, and I have a bottle of vodka in my freezer with your name on it, so what the fuck are you waiting for?" As you may know, the only impetus I need to get my ass in the car or on a plane is the promise of free alcohol, so off I went. My liver and I had a thoroughly enjoyable time. Because I am a very responsible person and I never drive drunk, I crashed on my friend's sofa, tipsy and content, and then hightailed it out of that godforsaken county as soon as I could in the morning. I like my friends, but Orange County in the daylight is just too much for me to bear.

My next trip is going to be to glorious New York City for my prebirthday extravaganza. I will be going there the weekend right before my birthday, and hopefully I will be showered with gifts and surrounded by good friends and given the key to the city. Of course, I was promised free alcohol, so the flight is already booked. Honestly, people, I am practically giving you instructions on how you can get me to visit. It's not like it's that hard, but I do have very specific and slightly expensive taste in alcohol, because I am a discerning drunk, so you can't just call me up and say, "Hey, lady, I've got a three-gallon jug of Strawberry Hill," because that shit is just sooo 1988 and my hooch requirements have been upgraded since then. I'm just saying. Anyway, while I am in NYC I plan on seeing several really good friends during some of my coherent moments even though I have a schedule that is jam-packed with prebirthday fun, because what is a visit to NYC without a hectic schedule of trying to see everyone and everything I miss about that city? At least it'll be ridiculously hot and humid so I'll be moist, sticky and uncomfortable the whole time that I'm trying to have all my prebirthday fun, kind of like prom night, so maybe we should break out the Strawberry Hill after all.

After the prebirthday extravaganza, my next trip will be to Europe. I was going to go to Amsterdam to speak at another conference because I am supercool, but there were some issues with the sessions I would be doing and the date I would have to fly out would force me to have to withdraw from the fall Artwalk so I decided not to go. However, I started thinking about how I haven't been to Ireland in three years and since it is the land of my people and there is the alluring promise of free or inexpensive alcohol, I figured I should probably go there. I had a conversation with my family and they agreed with me, and my dad knows like 9 kajillion people who are all related to me in some obscure way like 3rd cousins twice removed, so now if I go there I have a free place to stay (with free alcohol) in both Ireland and the UK, and the airfare is stupid cheap right now. So, if all goes well, you will probably see my shiny white ass jetting off to the Emerald Isle later this year, with a camera, 250 rolls of film and a very frightened liver.

babbled by Kat @ 9:59:00 AM | |

Thursday, July 24, 2003

Where is my mind?:

Wouldn't it be a shame if young Paris slipped and the dog and pitchfork became one?I had a really great idea for a post last night when I was talking to my friend Wes, because sometimes we have really goddamned hilarious conversations which would make posts that are so ripe with hilarity that they would burst open and splatter all over you like so much comedy bukkake. Then I went to sleep, and though I didn't have any more nightmares about zombies or the Hilton sisters or giving birth, I didn't sleep well, and when I don't sleep well my mental capacity drops below that of Carrot Top and it's all I can do to remember my own name and how to maintain normal bladder function, much less the comedy gold that Wes and I so effortlessly came up with last night. Hopefully I will be able to get a good night's sleep tonight so that I can recover enough from my severe sleep deprivation to recall what the fuck it was that I thought was so goddamned hilarious.

Before all the ass-fisting hilarity and mind-numbing sleeplessness, I went out for a drink with the lovely Kari in Santa Monica. I was a good little girl and resisted the urge to get retarded drunk and heckle passersby. Instead, we whiled away several hours talking about theoretical physics and the plight of homeless howler monkeys. Okay, we really talked about sex and relationships, but we could have talked about theoretical physics and the plight of homeless howler monkeys if we'd wanted to, because we are just that smart and selfless. But last night we wanted to talk about orgasms, and since John Ashcroft hasn't taken our right to talk about orgasms away yet, you can't stop us!

This weekend, I plan to actually make those fucking mix CDs I promised you last month. I finally hammered out the playlist, but I'm missing 3 songs that I want to put on it and I just can't fucking find them anywhere, so I have to go plunder my downstairs neighbor's music collection because he is the best goddamned DJ you have ever heard and has more music than God, and if he doesn't have the songs that I want to put on the mix CD then that means that I have completely lost my mind and that song about the millions of peaches, peaches for me was all in my head and never really existed. If that is the case, I have some alternates I can put on the mix CDs, but if I am forced to put them on the CD it will totally compromise my artistic vision, and if that happens and I lose all of my artistic integrity then I will be left with no choice but to do the unthinkable and put Xanadu back in the playlist.

babbled by Kat @ 3:57:00 PM | |

Tuesday, July 22, 2003


It's all about the butt, baby.Before I launch into my usual tirade of side-splitting hilarity, let me just say that you should go visit Julia and send some good vibes her way.

Today's hilarity will be in the form of a bulleted list, because I like bulleted lists. Plus, I haven't done one of these random fact lists in a while, and I know how much you miss them. Oh, just shut up and play along, buttface.

  • When someone cuts me off or drive in any other idiotic fashion, I will yell at them. Many times I make up new compound words. Some favorites include "Fucktard" and "Cock-knocking son of a crack whore".

  • There is a guy in my office named "Rod". I have a really hard time not channeling Beavis and Butthead when I say hi to him in the hall.

  • When I go to all-nude strip clubs, I determine which genital piercings the naked ladies would be good candidates for.

  • I carry a small stuffed monkey in my luggage when I travel.

  • If I had been born a boy, my father would have named me Aloicious Jedediah. I thank {insert deity of your choosing} every day for my lack of penis.

  • Even though I am a Yankee fan, I secretly want the Red Sox to win a World Series in my lifetime.

  • Do I think it'll actually happen? No.

  • Pirates are the new monkeys.

  • I want this for my birthday.

  • And this.

  • I'll settle for this, though.

  • Or anything from this.

  • Since this list has turned into a request for presents, I think I'll stop now.

  • Thank you, everybody. Goodnight.

    babbled by Kat @ 11:17:00 AM | |

    Monday, July 21, 2003

    Walk this way:

    Subtle, isn't she?I think I need a vacation to recover from my vacation.

    As I mentioned, I went to the San Diego Comic-Con this past weekend. Since I only went for two days this time, I had to cram 4 days worth of fun into those two days, which I discovered is really difficult but totally doable if you have some willing friends and a whole lot of alcohol.

    One of the highlights of this year's con for me was meeting Wil, who has got to be one of the nicest people on the planet. I gave him a copy of the one and only issue #00 of Bedhead Press Comics, and showed him the one-page story that's about the sketch comedy show that he was in. I also picked up a copy of his book, which I will review as soon as I read it. Of course, I have a shitload of reading material because I spent a hundred bucks or so on new comics, but his book is on the top of the stack, right after I finish reading my Linux Journal.

    The rest of the weekend was a whirlwind of alcohol, comics, and walking. Oh, so much walking. The con space was expanded yet again this year, and so there was about 40,000 square feet of stuff to look at. My calves hate me right now, because my choice of footwear leaned towards cute instead of functional, and walking around a 40,000 square foot convention center for two days in a row in shoes that are not very supportive will make your feet and legs feel like Tony Soprano took a crowbar to them. When I wasn't endlessly walking, I was either giving my hard-earned cashmoneys to some comic book creator or hanging out with my homies drinking Lou Ferrigno's weight in liquor. Fun times!

    I think I need a nap.

    babbled by Kat @ 10:58:00 AM | |

    Friday, July 18, 2003

    Queen of the nerds:

    PillowyLast night I realized that both of my brake lights were out, and that I really needed to take my car in to the dealer anyway to make them examine the electrical system because I'd been having some problems with a couple of fuses that kept burning out, so I took my car in to the dealer this morning. (Spare me the lectures - the car is under warranty, so the repairs are free.) While I waited, I walked over to the local Starbucks and bought some overpriced corporate coffee, and then headed to the adjacent Barnes & Noble to kill some time. Of course, I should not be allowed inside a bookstore, because I never ever leave one empty-handed. This time, I bought $50 worth of magazines: Modern Painters, Shutterbug, Popular Photography, Photoshop User, Allure, Shape, Yoga Journal, Girlfriends, and Linux Journal. As you can see, my taste in reading material is fairly eclectic. And I really shouldn't be allowed in a bookstore unsupervised.

    The last few days at work have been amazing and hectic as all hell. If things go the way they seem to be headed, I will get to architect and deploy a HUGE system that will not only save my company a ton of money but will improve customer communications and standardize our web conferencing and instant messaging platforms. I am so fucking excited about it that I may need to change my pants. It's too bad that most of the people who read this 'blog have no idea what I said in the second sentence of this paragraph, or I would elaborate and ramble on for several pages about it. Pardon me, my geekdom is showing.

    Speaking of geekdom, this weekend I will be in Sandy Eggo for the Comic-con. This year is the first year I'll only be there for the weekend - up until last year, I attended all four days every single time. I have gone to this convention for 11 years straight. It's amazing to see the HUGE San Diego Convention Center completely filled with comic book, toy, and sci-fi vendors, along with artists, writers, and collectors. I am going to spend the weekend seriously geeking out and spending too much money on comics and memorabilia. At least I'll finally get to give Wil his copy of the one and only issue Bedhead Press has ever published. Don't worry, I won't be lonely - I'm taking my Linux Journal with me to keep me warm at night. I'm also taking my cameras, so expect at least a few amusing photos of nerds at their nerdiest.

    And by nerds, of course I mean me.

    babbled by Kat @ 3:07:00 PM | |

    Wednesday, July 16, 2003

    Pity party:

    Why don't the female baseball fans in the U.S. dress like this?In case you haven't noticed, I have been having a bunch of personal problems lately. I know I have been bitching and moaning a whole lot lately, and it's not even about fun stuff like the ubiquitous retards on L.A. freeways or that dumb twat Renee Zellweger. I always get really pissed off at myself when I give in to the temptation to indulge in self-pity, because when I look at my life and what I've accomplished at the age of 28 and all of the privileges I've had, and I compare it with, say, my grandmother, who grew up in the Depression and lived in poverty and put herself through college when most women weren't even going to college and at 28 had to deal with her first baby dying at 3 weeks of age while her husband was far away in the Army fighting in WW2, I want to kick my own ass for thinking that my life sucks. So I would just like to take this opportunity to tell myself to stop with the fucking pussy-ass whiny self-pity already and realize that I have it pretty fucking good, because I get to live in a world with In-N-Out burgers and IRC and Super Target and creativity and gangsta rap and Lebowskifests and unexpected beauty and totally amazing writers and I should just sit back, take it all in, and appreciate what I have.

    babbled by Kat @ 11:13:00 AM | |

    Monday, July 14, 2003

    Hot hot heat:

    Now, that's a book I would read.I know I shouldn't complain about how hot it is in my house because I have a roof over my head and food in my belly and a bitchin Camaro and several supersexy pairs of Via Spiga shoes, and so many people are so much worse off than I am and don't have any of these things. However, this is my fucking website and if I want to complain about how it is so hot in my apartment that I could barely move all weekend and even though I could've driven around in my car and gone to air-conditioned venues I was morbidly depressed and didn't really want to move and it felt like the oppressive heat was actually physically restraining me from leaving the house like a giant invisible blanket, then I will damn well complain about it.

    However, now that it is Monday and I am securely ensconced in my lovely air-conditioned office, I am much less pissy and complain-y and really feeling quite peachy. I'm having a good hair day, my skin is looking particularly milky and porcelain-like, my pants are a little loose and my linen shirt is remarkably unwrinkled. It's as if the gods are smiling upon me again and allowing me to go about my day in blissful comfort as a reward for having suffered through my nearly insufferable weekend. And while I appreciate their efforts, I think that my reward for sweating like a priest in a schoolyard all weekend should be greater, and should include winning the lottery and having Eddie Izzard ask for my hand in marriage. I don't think I'm being unreasonable in my requests, do you?

    babbled by Kat @ 12:21:00 PM | |

    Friday, July 11, 2003

    Sweet dreams:

    BootyliciousI haven't been sleeping all that well lately. This is partially due to all of the aforementioned drama and anxiety and shit that's been going on. I mean, when you are so riddled with anxiety that someone who is baking a stress cake would choose you as the primary ingredient, you tend not to sleep that well. It's also hard for me to sleep when it's hot, and since I am an asshole and choose to live in an artists' loft that has no amenities whatsoever like air conditioning or a team of scantily clad women waving huge fans and feeding me chilled grapes, I have to deal with a sleeping area that is hotter than the devil's taint.

    The other problem that has been robbing me of my sleepytime is nightmares. I am pretty sure that these are being caused by all the stress I am experiencing, and that all of the stuff I am stressed about is burrowing its way into my subconscious and giving the movie studio that lives there plenty of fodder for the nightly productions that are played on the backs of my eyelids. Usually they wake me up at either 4:12 a.m. or exactly 5 a.m. On the rare occasion that I am not awakened by some zombie or evil villain that is trying to murder me or make me give birth to something (and yes, believe me, babies = nightmare for me), my cat senses this and proceeds to yowl like a fucking howler monkey at 5:30 in the morning. Apparently he thinks he is God's own alarm clock and wants to make sure that nobody within a 3 mile radius gets any fucking sleep at that particular time. At least he is consistent - every single time the cat alarm has gone off it has been exactly 5:30 a.m. Of course, if I tried to wean myself off my actual alarm clock and tried to rely on him to wake me up every morning I am sure he would get a sudden bout of permanent laryngitis and I would end up oversleeping every day. And people say pets don't add value to your life.

    This weekend, after I am done trying to catch up on some sleep despite all the zombies, babies, and meowing, I will be working on the mix CDs that I promised to you dirty bitches. You should all thank Scott for reminding me that Olivia Newton-John is teh suck. I just wanted to include 'Xanadu' on the CD to force you to share in my misery, because ever since I watched the 1980 episode of "I Love the '80s" for the nine thousandth time on VH-1 last weekend, that goddamned song has been stuck in my head. Copious amounts of Public Enemy were required to get it unstuck. Anyway, if you were one of the people who asked for a mix CD in the comments and you have not given me your address, send me a fucking email already so I can stalk you send you your copy.

    babbled by Kat @ 8:29:00 AM | |

    Wednesday, July 09, 2003


    You asked for hot bitches, I give you hot bitchesJesus. I take a few days off and a fucking meerkat breaks into my Blogger account and posts a photo of himself. I know you guys think that I'm always asking these cute fuzzy animals to post for me, but it's not true. Sometimes I get overwhelmed with real life or I go on vacation and I swear there is a little underground animal network of furry hackers and they take turns deciding who is going to post something in my blog while I'm gone. I am making it up to you by posting this photo of a hot bitch in a bikini, but after examining the reaction to the meerkat's blog vandalism I noticed that none of you commented on the inclusion of "Xanadu" in your mix CDs, so don't be surprised if you are aurally assaulted by Olivia Newton-John in a couple of weeks.

    There has been a lot of drama and uncertainty in my life in the last month and a half, and so I have been somewhat stricken by writers' block. It's really a combination of writers' block and not being able to say a bunch of shit that's on my mind because there are other people involved in the drama and uncertainty and most of them read this blog, so in order to prevent further drama I am refraining from discussing the existing drama. As for the uncertainty, some of that is job-related and as we've all learned from the magical and recently impregnated Ms. Dooce, it is a bad idea to talk smack about anyone or anything having to do with your job in your blog, because the boss-types don't like that so much.

    So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I am totally making excuses about posting because I'm really spending all of my time on Friendster just like the rest of you and because the combination of that and the extreme heat in my loft has caused me to turn into one of those bloggers that only blogs about not blogging.

    And, apparently, I've turned into one of those bloggers that uses the word "blog" as a verb.

    I guess I've finally arrived.

    babbled by Kat @ 12:13:00 PM | |

    Monday, July 07, 2003

    To all the kids lookin' up to me:

    Tummy warmerHi, I'm a meerkat.

    I know that most of the animals that guest blog for Kat are baby animals, but I'm a full grown meerkat. We're just kinda smallish. But not everything about me is small, if you catch my meaning, you sexy bitch.

    Anyway, as you may have noticed, Kat's been too busy to post again. Well, it wasn't really that she was too busy last week, she just didn't have anything to say. She's still all preoccupied by work and a bunch of other shit so she asked me to post for her. Lazy bitch. Well, I guess she's not that lazy, because she spent like 8 hours on Friday wandering around Chinatown and Pasadena with some dude she knows taking photos of stuff. At first, they were in search of urban blight, but apparently Chinatown is relatively bereft of blight, which caused Kat and Steve great disappointment. So they changed tactics and went to take photos of churches in Pasadena, which is even more blight-free, but they like taking photos of churches for some reason so off they went. Personally, I think they should've gone to Compton, because there's plenty of blight there, but what do I know, I'm just a fucking meerkat with a warming lamp shining on my belly.

    It was really hot the rest of the weekend, so Kat just stayed in her house melting. She was supposed to be working on that mix CD that she promised to all you people who made with the cheap, meaningless compliments, but it's so hot in her "recording studio" that she can't even sit in there during the day to determine the playlist. I think that in her heat-induced delirium she decided to include either an Abba song or "Xanadu" by Olivia Newton-John, because really, what's a good mix without "Dancing Queen" sandwiched between N.W.A. and Marilyn Manson?

    Kat will be back as soon as she recovers from her three day bender, um, I mean, from working so hard. I leave you with these words of wisdom from the great Ice Cube:

    Life ain't nothin' but bitches and money.

    babbled by Kat @ 10:07:00 AM | |