Monthly Archives: July 2010

it’s called love, people!

when curiosity and cuddling supersede survival instincts.

-AlphaLimaYankeeSierraSierraAlpha

*addendum: or is this what happens only once basic needs are met? kitty knew she had a feast in mama baboon, so then it became play time. hmmm. still love, methinks.

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the rubber band theory.

this started out as an email to my sister, but i decided to go public with it :D

awareness of possible conspiracy makes it easier to keep from engaging in water-cooler gossip, which, whether the conspiracy is true or not, is a good thing. case in point: mel gibson.

i hadn’t paid much attention to the hooplah and then looked at a bit online. bottom line: whether he’s being set up (he’s pretty vocal about exposing the new world order) or is actually fucking nutso and abusive, why do i really need to bother about it? the chick who’s been supposedly abused is handling herself (if she’s really been abused — there is plenty of surfacing speculation that ALL of it is a lie, he’s being framed/edited/faked and/or somehow being manipulated because of his outspoken-ness about the new world order shiz). all of the “sources” of the proof of abuse and madness are the same ones that sell sensationalism… TMZ, In Touch, People and people. these are the mind-numbers, the gossip-mongers who get the masses to talk about petty things, other peoples’ drama and mindless chatter in order to keep them subdued and distracted. this is true, even if i were to say mel gibson is an asshole abusive crazy person or his ex is a gold-digging snatch. neither of those opinions REALLY matter. why are so many people obsessed with talking about it? both the mainstreamers and the conspiracy theorists. speculating on agendas that aren’t my own means i am a pawn on either side. there’s gotta be something more interesting to discuss, like perhaps that rubber bands last longer when they’re refrigerated.

i had to be reminded last night that i’ve been to borneo. what!?!

-alyssa out.

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my favorite drink is water.

i like the crispness of her voice. it’s like putting hot feet in a cool, bubbling mountain stream.

true story. i want the ride down the river. sometimes i forget, but hearing this awakens the truth

a master speaks…

welcome home little feeshies.

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