What’s wrong with free?

So I logged into WordPress today, contemplating writing a post about the books I’ve been reading and how much work is a drag on, well, everything, when I noticed the Freshly Pressed page had some things that caught my eye.  Two I dismissed as just ranting (imagine the gall of a blogger who rants incessantly!) and the other just got under my skin.

This post claims the reason people don’t want to spend money to use, say, Twitter, is because we’ve become accustomed to getting things for free on the internet, despite “shelling out the cash” for music and books in stores.  I disagree.

How long did it take for people to start “shelling out the cash” for things like Cable TV, Satellite, and Internet access?  Isn’t the RIAA still throwing a fit over piracy?  And then there’s the movie pirating which has led to every movie I’ve recently watched, both on DVD and on the big screen, to having a piracy PSA before the previews.  So is it, in fact, an Internet issue, or simply a human issue?

I’m not gonna lie, I don’t think we should have to pay for anything, period.  That’s not to say everything should be completely free, per se, but money is a lost cause.  What’s all that paper based on, anyway?  Many of these big businesses don’t pay for anything, really, as it’s all done on credit.  It’s pretend money.  I worked for a small restaurant two years ago and the guy didn’t pay rent or utilities for the first year.  He didn’t make it that long, so what did he end up doing to cover those expenses he hadn’t yet paid?  I’ve had several jobs where, as a manager, I signed an invoice stating we owed X company Y dollars for Z merchandise, but I never saw anything get paid except for in an Excel SpreadSheet.  When did it get paid, and by whom?

There are tons of people who couldn’t imagine walking into a store/restaurant/bar/cafe, acquiring food/supplies/drinks/etc, and then not paying for said merchandise.  Yet we do it everyday, with every swipe of our credit card.  I’ve had a credit card.  I maxed that little thing out to the tune of $2,000 dollars, which Providian Bank kindly paid, and then never paid it off.***

No one called me to ask where the money was, nor did anyone come and claim my merchandise back.  And it’s not even on my Credit History…anywhere.

The Internet doesn’t have a free problem, people do.

***As a side note, I wasn’t actually allowed to pay that bill.  Back in early 2002 Providian Bank sold $4.2 million in (Visa) accounts to a Pakistan based (MasterCard) company, who then was unreachable and never sent out cards or information.  Providian wouldn’t give me the information to reach them, nor could I pay my bill to them, and the Pakistani company was unable to help me without an account number, which they failed to provide me.  Thus, I got off scot-free, so to speak.  But look how many people have umpteen thousands (or more) in Credit Card debt that they can’t (or won’t) pay?  How many of them, exactly, have been prosecuted and put in prison for theft/larceny/whatever the charge may be?  Or even taken to court and forced to pay restitution?  I’ve heard of people being threatened, but I have yet to hear anything short of a Buelleresque “My sister’s boyfriend’s cousin’s aunt’s neighbor in Nebraska has a dog who gets groomed by a lady who…” about it, nothing concrete.  Ever.  So what’s that say?

Rant and Rave! Rant and Rave!

You know what ticks me off?  The way people look down on bisexuals.  I mean, really, whether you want to call it “switch hitting”, “AC-DC”, or whatever, it shouldn’t be up to YOU to judge OTHER PEOPLE who want to say they are bisexual.  I like both sexes, genders, and whatever.  I guess you could say I’m “omnisexual”, although I’m not progressive enough to use such a term as that.  I just feel silly.  But, honestly, I don’t give a crap if you’re genderqueer, FTM, MTF, male, female, or any other part of any kind of spectrum.  If you’re a cool person, then cool.  Because it doesn’t matter what’s in your pants, it matters what’s between your ears.  And you know why?

Spoiled milk.

I read this post on a forum once about dating exes again.  This wise, wise person said something along the lines of “if you pull the milk out of the fridge and it’s spoiled, then put it back in the fridge, if you take it back out a few months down the line, does that mean it’s not spoiled anymore?  NO!  It’s still spoiled milk.  So why date someone again if you know it didn’t work the first time?”

Granted, I don’t look at relationships that way because people are people and can grow, unlike milk.  Ok, so, maybe milk can, in fact, grow.  How else do you explain cheese?  But that’s not the point of what they were saying, I don’t think.

In either event, people are people.  Period.  That’s it.  So stop telling me, when I tell you I’m “bisexual” that you “used to be bisexual, but then I got tired of sleeping around”.  Uh, hey, thanks!  Because what every person wants to hear is how their sexual orientation/preference/whatever is basically a synonym for “skank”.

I am not a ho, thank you.  I don’t sleep with anything that moves or has tits or a penis or what have you.  That doesn’t mean I couldn’t.  I mean, sheesh, I DO have hormonal urges, but that’s why they make clown porn.

So I settle for telling people I’m “half gay”.  They usually look at me like I’m stupid unless they aren’t straight, and then they just look at me and go, “Ooooohhhhh….so you’re bisexual.  I used to be bisexual, but then I got tired of sleeping around.”  It kind of sucks.

And you know what else totally ticks me off is the lack of consideration the working world has for Special Ed kids.  I’ve got this employee at work, it’s his first job, he’s ADD with a learning disability, and everyone wants him gone because he’s not picking it up fast enough.  No one’s willing to work with him to help him and I rarely work with the kid to help.  It really kind of sucks and pisses me off all at the same time because some high falutin retail VP guy has decided that people only get one week (that’s five days or 40 hours) to learn everything they are ever going to need to know about doing the job.  That’s just insane.  I can’t teach everything you’re ever going to need to do the job in 40 hours.

So, you know what world:  You can fucking go to Hell.  Really.

And I now concede the soap box to the next Ranter.

My Pumpkin has a Penis

So, true story, I was surfing the internet to see what I need to do to get giant motherfucking pumpkins when I discovered pumpkins have penises AND vaginas and I was like, “Whoawhoawhoawhoawhoa” and then the internet told me that I needed to inseminate it with its own seed.  What. The. Fuck.

I mean, really, first the internet is telling me my pumpkin, with all of it’s pretty flowers, has a penis.  Okay, you know, I’m an open minded guy.  I can handle having a gay pumpkin.  Chip off the ol’ block, eh?  No big whoop.  But then the internet goes on to tell me I have to do something with the pumpkin’s vagina.  So, yeah.  I have to mutilate my poor pretty pumpkin flower and put its penis inside it’s vagina in order to get it pregnant and bear fruit.

It's a pumpkin penis with it's jizz and ants

Those are ants. Imagine how inadequate my little pumpkin feels next to me.

I’m confused.  I thought this was a plant.  See, when I decided I wanted to have plants, sort of as a nifty Science Project, I wasn’t planning on going so far as artificial insemination.  Now, granted, I don’t have to artificially inseminate this plant.  I could just allow nature to take its course and, if I get a pregnant pumpkin, so be it.  But, see, I don’t enjoy watching those close to me suffer through being childless, so I feel I absolutely must assist my pumpkin in this endeavor, despite having watched it grow up, practically raising it with my own two hands.

Immature Female Pumpkin Flower

See, girls DON'T mature faster than boys!

I would post a picture of the pumpkins vajayjay, however, it’s an elusive thing.  When I get a picture, I will share, along with video of the pumpkin sexing .

Pumpkin Flowers and Writing Books

I’ve always wanted to write a book.  Ever since I was a kid.  I don’t know why.  I wasn’t one of those children that ran around making up crazy stories about witches, faeries, and the like.  I did come up with stories, but they only served to help me with that “pull random ass saving excuse from any orifice” talent I seem to have.

But, lately, the itch has gotten really bad.  It’s like needing a fix.  I need to write.  So maybe that’s what I’ll start doing.  I’ve got a few ideas.  If I can work with them, great.  It’s not about getting published, anyway.  It’s about getting the words down on paper (or a hard drive, take your pick) so they aren’t driving me mad anymore.

And, also, pumpkins have flowers.  I was expecting flowers when the information I found online said something about them, but nothing like that.  I could sell a bouquet of pumpkin flowers right now, if I wanted.  It’s kind of strange to see.  They are pretty, though.  And I’m down to only three jalapeno plants, two of which I’m probably going to give away.  Nothing else has survived but those three jalapenos, the two pumpkins, and some chives I’m not too sure about.

But, hey, how many people do you know who have a three-foot pumpkin plant sitting in a bucket in their backyard, eh?