The government of Malaysia has canceled Avril Lavigne's August 29 concert after Islamic opposition slammed the show for being "too sexy." The youth wing of the fundamentalist Pan-Malaysian Islamic Party called for the show to be scrapped, and the Arts, Culture and Heritage Ministry determined that it was unsuitable for Malaysian culture two days ahead of the country's independence day.

Popsquire's perspective...

Even if you don't like Avril Lavigne, you must appreciate the First Amendment. If you know anyone in Malaysia, send them this post and tell them to demand more freedom for artistic expression. Tell them it's not Complicated!

The book became one of many, each unique, each a pinnacle in time, immortalised in the written word for all of time, there for all to view. But the words became complicated, not by the simplicity of what was written, not by the actual definition of the words there in, but by the rules applied to them. The simplicity of art manifested becoming vain and ugly.

Each word had to have more meaning, a definition, a motive for being there, and as such they sat with magnifying glasses and searched adding meaning more and more to each word, applying rules to the subject matter, until the whole world of the word became a world of its own, where by the rules told the words what they were, just in case they forgot.

The original meaning got lost in translation, the story forgotten, taken to a new level by analysis, the book its-self became something else, the story changed, the innocent became corrupted by the stains of definition, the pure river of the conscious thought polluted, the fish began to die.

In searching for meaning in meaning the very life the words tried to create became strangled and squeezed out of existence, till all that was left was the blank inevitability of the nothingness to come. The rules re-wrote the book, the story was lost, the words became more than they were, the world moved on, and on and on, the book forgotten on the shelf having now been defined as a book.

It started with a word a simple word, and became a whole world of its own, the beauty and innocence of the words lost there own beauty and style, corrupted through time, the story once told, became another until so dilute it was lost in its meaning.

It all started with only a word.

A) loves J), J) loves K), K) and J) are together, E) loves N), but D) loves E) someone else loves K, but K does not know.

A) wants to tell J) she loves, but can not as she is friends with K), Before J) and K) met, A) and J) shared a moment, a drunken fumble, A) paniced and blamed it on the drink, lost her chance, her feelings grow, now A) is not sure if J) holds feelings for her, what a mess.... so little comunication wasted chances, lifes falling like stars from the sky.

And I love????????

If there are any boys (I like to refer to them as this - I will explain in a later post) reading this I am sure they are laughing at me right now and probably think I have confused them with my girlfriends. This is SO not the case - AT ALL! At first, I thought it might be me. I figured since I got married fairly young (at age 23) to a man I knew in High School (no - not a high school sweetheart - we didn't date then), that I had just been sheltered from the bizarre social behavior that is better known as dating. However, after a year I truly believe that is not the case at all and men have regressed into confused little boys. I know - I am probably taking a serious risk saying that in my very first post - BUT I DID SAY NO BOYS ALLOWED!

I will continue to say they are not the only ones who have regressed - girls (let's define them as woman in their twenties and thirties - but 39 might be the cutoff - yet to be determined) have seriously become CRAZY!

The question that begs to be answered is whether it was complicated boys that made woman crazy or was it the crazy girls that made men complicated. I would suspect there are some of you out there that would have very passionate responses to that question. It a question I am not sure will ever be able to be answered, but I will share my fun complicated boy and crazy girl stories. So far, the adventure has been comical and interesting enough that I have had a few friends suggest I start blogging about the past year and the year to come.

I will attempt to try to understand the psychology around men, woman, and dating. My hope is that if I try to understand it then it won't seem like I am living on a completely different planet than I was just a year ago.

Leute, ich bin in der Krabbelstube gelandet.
Location: Salzburgring.
Event: Frequency Festival.
Mein Auftrag? Babysitting.
Meine Frage: Bin ich tatsächlich schon zu alt für diesen Schwachsinn, oder wird das Frequency einfach von Jahr zu Jahr schlechter?

Nova Rock war genial – weil riesig, laut, rockig, freakig – trotzdem erwachsen.
Nuke ist immer schon ein Hammer gewesen – weil chillig, schön, beatig, easy, – erwachsen.
Wir haben noch vor den Hauptacts das Handtuch geschmissen und sind Heim gefahren – kurz vor 9 war es. Nicht mal Patrice konnte uns halten.
Heute?
Same game, es sei denn, Freund Alkohol bringt 2/3 der Kiddies zum Erliegen – und sie bleiben, wo sie hin gehören: in der Heia.
Oder in ihren Zelten.

So oder anders - wir werden unseren Auftrag erfüllen, uns ob der wundersamen Gestalten und Verhaltensweisen amüsieren und abends nach Dienstschluss die Flucht ergreifen, wenn uns danach ist.
Der einzige Lichtblick: Samstag.
Rocken zu Danko Jones mit meiner Sister. Und einen bis drei Spritzer für Erwachsene trinken.
Cheers.

.

I am on my fourth marriage, and I'm only 38.

You can only imagine the looks that I get from certain people when I tell them that. I am a very open person. I have nothing to hide, and actually to be open that way makes me feel like a better person. I always dreamed about getting married, having kids, and living happily ever after.

It seems like I was always in a relationship. I never really dated. I got
married to a wonderful man (so I thought) a month after my twenty-first
birthday. I loved him with my whole heart and took my marriage vows seriously. He treated me like a queen until we got married. This happened with my other marriages too (except for this marriage). I went through mental abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse. You name it, I was going through it.

My past three marriages when added together don't even total ten years. I
always prayed to God and asked him to send my way the kind of man I wanted. For a long time I was wondering what was wrong with me. Why can't I keep a man? I guess I was my own worst critic for some time.

Well, after many failed marriages I tried dating. It started off on the same
note as usual, but then I met an interesting man. He too already had kids. All
three were teens, and I now have a six-year-old girl from my last marriage. I started dating him, then called it off because he scared me.

We were out slow dancing one night and he told me "one day you will be mine. " Well, that was a control issue and I wasn't going back into that. I am married to that guy now. Thankfully things worked out and God kept him for me.I guess my husband was right that night. We got married last May and God answered my prayer. I couldn't ask for a better man.

He respects me, treats me like a queen, would never raise his hand to me, and always lifts me up when I can be so negative about myself. He tells me every day that he is the luckiest man around to be married to such a loving and beautiful wife. So now I know every day that I am special too and always will be in his eyes.

~A MountainWings Original by Jody Young, Holland, MI~

A comment on the issue "I Am Special"
http://www.mountainwings.com/past/8002.htm

Kaylynn: "I"m not Complikaylynn, I'm just Kaylynn"

Aber zumindest habe ich anständige Nachbarn. Wer sonst würde sich ein Fahrrad einen Tag lang „ausborgen“ und brav wieder zurück stellen.
Und hey – es war wirklich weg. Das war keine Einbildung.
Auf alle Fälle war dies ein Montag, wie ich ihn – wenn möglich – in dieser Form so schnell nicht mehr erleben möchte.
Danke.

Und weil mich ein spezieller Beitrag heute Abend doch noch so richtig zum Lachen gebracht hat, möchte ich an dieser Seite auf ihn verweisen. Denn: einmal pro Tag sollte der Mensch lachen. Mindestens.
Jakob zur „Invasion der Klingeltöne“.
Danke, das hat meinen „Bilderbuch-Montag“ herausgerissen.

.

It's one of the things that pisses me off the most about him ... and what pisses me off about ME is that I don't have the balls to turn around and just ask him what the fuck is going on. I just sit there and let the questions wizz around my head.

I actually had a day OFF today. I'm my own boss so I probably work more hours than most ... and this was the first whole day off that's I've had for a LONG time. I did the sum total of NOTHING and sat in a park for 5 hours watching my kids play while I read a book! THEN this evening instead of carrying on with the day off ... I went into my office to meet L there as he had to do some work and I knew he'd need help. I’m too good to him for too little thanks sometimes!

He doesn't like being there when I am not there incase people ask too many questions about it - it's just easier that way, and during the holidays when I have to take my kids to the office with me, it would just be waaay to complicated to explain things... and things are frigging complicated enough!

So anyway, back to this evening. I got a text from L around 4pm and it went something like this ...

[HIM] What time?

[ME] 6.30 ok?

[HIM] ok np

And this was the first communication between us since he mentioned enticing me into bed yesterday! In the office this evening it was almost silent between us! I helped him finish off some bits for a project he's working on at the moment ... I purposely hadn't planned to work myself tonight and I was there mainly to help him out... and to be fair I'd expected SOME conversation ... but I didn't exactly strike any up myself either.

Damn ... I have so much more to say tonight but I'm pretty tired. I need to hit the sack and go put the day to bed.

I wonder ... will there actually BE any enticing or will he just expect me to drop everything (literally) and go running when HE is in the mood!

窒息。

.

可不可以闭上眼睛

像只鸵鸟

把头埋入沙里

当作没事？

Well, we have decided to try out some reusable washable nappies because we want to try and be as environmentally friendly as we can (and as an extra bonus apparently they will also be the cheaper option in the end). It costs quite a lot to begin with, but I have read that at the end of the day it saves money as disposables are expensive. However reusables are not the simplest option. We've gone for the Bambino Mio ones. We got a set which basically covers from birth to toddler and includes:

• Nappy covers (these look how I imagine nappies to look, with elasticated sides to stop stuff leaking, a velcro bit to do them up and pretty patterns) 
• The nappies themselves (they are like big cotton things that you have to fold up and put inside the covers)
• Laundry bags
• Some antibacterial stuff to put in the washing machine

We're still going to use disposable nappies some of the time, mainly when we go out, simply for the convenience of it, but hopefully this will cut down on our contribution to the landfills. And plus they come in cute star and spot patterns. 

In other news, the little bean is still practicing his dance moves in there. Sometimes my bump changes shape now when he moves around and it'll go all lop-sided. I am, at the same time, enthralled and weirded out by it. It's so amazing. I could sit there and watch it for ages.

Also, Ross came to my routine antenatal appointment with the midwife last week. Apart from getting to see me test my wee for protein and have my blood pressure taken again, he got to hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time - it sounds pretty much like a galloping horse. Really cool and very reassuring :-).

I am so tired of the suffering and the fear of what tomorrow will bring. I look at the women that came before me and I wonder if maybe we are a cursed family. Maybe we angered God and he is punishing us. I don't believe the God I call my father could curse me but sometimes I doubt it all. I look at my mother; it is like this world is trying to shatter her. When things seem to be getting better the storm approaches and shadow falls upon us.

How much longer must we endure the darkness before we can embrace the light? How much longer will this sadness linger inside of me. I get scared, the fear creeps along my insides until I am suffocating. I ask myself will I make it through another day? Will my family ever find peace? If God hears my heart why doesn't he answer me. I need him desperately and I cannot feel his presence anywhere. I cannot feel his touch or his love upon me.

There is a loneliness within me that has not left me since I was little. I can be surrounded by many and feel an isolation that keeps me at a distance. I want to believe in the goodness of people and this world but it gets hard when you the evil that lingers in all of us. I want to trust someone with all of me but I am so petrified of the vulnerability of opening one's heart to someone.

I don't know what happiness is like because there is this wall of sadness surrounding me. I lie in the center of it waiting for someone to find me and show me that I don't have to cry anymore, I don't have to be scared anymore of life. I know my suffering might not compare to some but it hurts so much everyday I put on a mask hiding what I feel. No one ever questions what is behind the mask. No one takes that moment to see that everything is not as it seems.

My smile covers the shadows of my soul, my laughter is there to ease the pain in my heart. How much longer will I have to face the cruelty of this world. I just want that peace that can transform my life into something more than it is right now.

If God sees me I hope he is looking at my scarred heart. I hope he is looking deep into my soul because there he will find the me that is hidden from this world. I just want to know that life is more than this darkness that lingers around my family. I need to know that we are heading towards something more than more sadness, disappointments, tears, and fears. I need to know that this sadness will disappear soon.

God if it is me, if I did something to anger you please take it out on me. Take all your anger out on me and let my family find that beauty and grace that I know exists in this world. How many more years will my mom sacrifice and suffer her body and soul to this world. How much longer will my sister only see the coldness of people. How much longer will I be a rag doll of a human.

This world when you truly look at it is such a sad place to be. There is so much suffering that it makes me overwhelmed with the pain of living. Why are some of us the one's born into this suffering and others get to experience the joy of this world? I don't feel bitterness towards them only envy that they can feel the warmth of life while I shiver in the coldness.

Today was a day when I questioned my life, the life of my mother, the life of my grandmother. Has God forgotten us? Why doesn't he comfort me in his arms. I want to be embraced by him and feel that unrelenting warmth of having him as my guardian. Why do we suffer? It is supposed to make us stronger, my strength has faded into weakness.

I wish that God would bring someone into my life that would fix all the broken pieces of my life. I don't want to lean on my own strength anymore. I am standing on hollow strength. I have prayed to God to bring that one person into my life that I can trust with this sadness that I am bound to. I want to release all my tears and know that there will be someone there to hand me the tissues and wipe away the tears. I long to be held by someone, to feel their warmth and know that I can make i through this dark moment.

He also had massive pain that was much worse while on hemodialysis. Whenever I checked on him in the dialysis ward, he would reach up to me with his tube-pierced arm, grab my hand, and beg, "Please, Darlin', whatever they're giving me doesn't work, I was in the military for twenty years, I was even wounded but this is worse, I need something that works, please, it hurts so bad, I'm living in a constant state of hell, please get them to give me something..."

The first few mornings I naively assured him that we would try to give him something more effective. As the weeks went on and the pain got worse, I tried to explain to him that his bowel obstruction made it hard to give him too much morphine because it would stop him up even more, and that some of the doctors thought that maybe his pain had to do with being so constipated--"No, Darlin', this is much worse than that--it's more pain than I could ever imagine"--and maybe he just needed a laxative and some Demerol...

After having read numerous jaded books and blogs on the frigidity of doctors who have "seen everything," I expected my resident to blame Mr. M for wasting his time and a bed in the VA. However, the resident was always interested in Mr. M and kept a close watch on him, giving him extra morphine when the pain just wouldn't go away ("He's got worse problems than constipation, he's suffering") and fighting nonstop for three days to get someone to place a central line so Mr. M could get central parenteral nutrition (food for patients who cannot eat).

I remember the last few days that Mr. M was alive. He had lapsed into a state of delirium in which he seemed to recognize me but also seemed to be experiencing a different level of consciousness. I would periodically check up on him in the wards after night call in the ER. He would be perched on the edge of the bed gripping the frame with his hands and dangling his feet over the edge as they dripped fluid onto the floor, staring out the door of his hospital room, working his mouth and lifting his eyebrows as he observed some unseen event. I had only seen one other patient like this--also on dialysis, also with bacteria in his blood--but I never learned what became of that patient, as my rotation ended at that hospital in the middle of his course.

I remember having a Saturday off, and then coming in on Sunday morning and logging into my computer account to start checking laboratory values on my patients. Mr. M always came first since his case took me the longest to write about. But before I could get to his file, a little box popped up that said, "Warning: This patient is deceased. Do you still want to view his file?"

I sat there for a second, unable to breathe. Then I heard my resident say from across the room, "Oh, no. Did you know Mr. M died last night? Oh, wow. That poor guy."

He had pulled out his central line the day before in a fit of delirium and was no longer getting any nutrition. That night, his heart stopped, and despite the best efforts of the doctors on call, he didn't make it.

We were both quiet for a moment. I went over to my resident's computer and stared at the screen. Deceased. Dead. Mr. M was dead.

Good News No. 2:
I actually managed to wake up on both Monday and Tuesday for 8am lecture. And, I didn't skip any classes!!

Bad News:
Super busy semester!! 3 tests, 2 lab reports and an assignment due in one week!! 1 theory test, 2 lab tests, 1 assignment and 1 lab write-up also due in one week!! Crazy!! I haven even mention the other tests, group presentation, assignments and lab reports that due at other times.

When I took some time to understand what people called love and why was it so complicated, I understood that they referred to dating as love and love as dating. It is obvious that dating is sometime complicated as we got to dress up like this, talk softly or whatever thing you normally do when dating but love is not that complicated. People easily got confused and mixed these two people for them, two person being together means love absolutely but it is not the case, two person being together may means friendship (yes between boys and girls who are kissing it might be friendship), it might be attraction or simply trying to see whether there is some love and if not, go to another. Love is not so complicated as dating is but confusing between those two that makes us think love is complicated.

Love is a feeling and by definition it is beyond understanding but not meaning complicated. We makes it complicated because we want tangible proof for love or any other feelings. But when it comes to feeling, remember that there will never be tangible proof, only faith. Have faith in the person, having faith that she loves you or no faith and leave her.

Oups, love and faith, might write something about it.... Love, Faith and Cheerio.

It was just brought to my attention by Tilia that I had not added the back-story to the illusive Mr. Grey and I, and why it shouldn't be, but is, complicated.

We met when I first moved to London in the fall of 2006 on the very first day of my writing course. There were only 8 of us in the class (2 were significantly past their prime and 2 were very creepy) so you can imagine the 4 fairly normal ones distinguished friendships early on.

From the very beginning, and I'm not lying, there was something about Grey that caught my eye. I don't remember being physically attracted to him right away, and the first thing he ever said to me was some derogatory comment about my pink velvet hat, which I did not take too kindly to. To this day, I still maintain my love for hats since they add a sprig of creativity and lusciousness to any given outfit at any given time of day.

But later that day, all 20 Masters courses broke into groups to do one of those fabulously lame orientation type "get to know me games" in the main theatre. As we were split up something kept catching my eye downstage right, where Grey was falling asleep. I found this exceptionally charming. I think we were all a bit intimidated and terrified by the majority of students who were all actors. (this was a drama school)

After answering pointless polite questions about our ambitions and backgrounds and favorite television shows (which by the way should never be asked by a Masters professor-I don't care what country you're in) we commenced in the black box which also substitutes as a classroom and had free (very cheap) wine. As Grey, Earl, Tom and I (the 4 fairly normal classmates) all huddled up in a perfectly formed writers clique amongst all the strange acting students surrounding us, we commented on their crazy ways while chatting about plays and films.

At some point Grey and I got to talking on our own, which is when I began to fancy him. He asked me how I was finding London and said I liked it though it was hard to adjust. We suddenly realized how easy it was to talk to one another and how well our wits matched, perfectly complimenting each other. There was an ease about him, though at the same time a quirky, neurotic nature that just screamed "writer."

His ensemble was that of a 50 year old Englishman, with a retro t-shirt covered by a tweed-like scruffy blazer, washed jeans, funny brown shoes and large rimmed glasses. His hair thick, high and even scruffier than the blazer as he endearingly scratched his head about once every minute as some sort of nervous reaction.  I realized at this time that even though he wasn't by all means conventionally attractive, he was charming in every sense of the word in my personal dictionary and I was in danger of being smitten for life.

As the first week of school progressed, the 4 of us got closer, travelling to the pub around the corner after class and speaking of everything under the sun. But again, for some reason, Grey and I would always end up having our own conversation. And pretty soon, we would not only be having conversations amongst our group, but conversations alone together completely.

Little did I know the drama that would ensue and the trouble and trauma he would cause in the months to come...

你们到底要我怎样？我所牺牲的，还不够吗？我离“一无所有”这四个字，越来越近了。

我不要。但抉择不在于我。我并没有选择，那么奢侈的权利。

我没有华丽的房子，没有令人羡慕的家庭背景，没有用不完的家产，没有优异的成绩，没有身材，也没有脸蛋。我只是个普通人。比普通还要普通的人。

你们是否能对我再好一些。。。我不奢望你们把我捧在手心，只需要对我好一点，我就满足了。

Last night was interesting.  The Guitar Guy saga is already sort of going stale at this point, but it's important for me to say that for the past three months, the flirtation going on there has been a collection of some of the sexiest, most intense moments I've ever experienced, and it's really tragic that 

• a.) he has a girlfriend 
  
• b.) he now knows that I know about her and
  
• c.) that I launched this blog after all the good stuff

Last night, it seemed like things were finally going to ramp back up to normal.  That's really all I can hope for now, is that things end on a good note, rather than the initial happy-ending I wanted that involved an empty box of Trojans and several variations of the verb "to worship."

So, when, at the beginning of the evening, he came to order food from me, and did it by walking at me until I was against a wall, and we stood nearly nose-to-nose, speaking about perfectly polite things, such as whether there would be bacon on the hamburgers, but with under-toned smiles that suggested so much more.

He asked me if he should pay right then, and I told him it was up to him, and then basically made the decision for him by taking his credit card.  I think, in retrospect, that he wanted to drag out the process so he'd have further excuses to come talk to me, but honestly, we should be beyond that point by now, and were before the Great Revelation.  

He said, "Just make sure you bring it back to me," and I responded, "I always do," with a bit of confusion.  He muttered something about having to chase me around for it, and I turned around, holding the card to my chest and said, "Would you?"

He flashed me a smile, and assured me, "you bet."

So, that all went off without a hitch, and I danced around the first band set of the evening, thrilled with the indication that things were going back to the way they were, and should be, all the while flashing (and receiving) sex eyes to the stage.

When one of the back-up singers ordered from me a little later, I hurried her order so I would have an excuse to see him, but when I got backstage to drop it off to her, he looked slightly dejected, and handed me my credit slip, letting me know that he was just on his way down to give it to me.  

I suppose there would've been more banter if he'd made it to the deserted side station rather than having to hand it to me in the well-lit green room, but, yeah, he doesn't need an excuse to come hit on me, and he should know that.

So, a bit irritated, I went to the bar to put in more orders, and was standing at the computer, with my back to the bar while he stood at the bar with his back to me, getting water from the no-nonsense Lead Bartender, a short, black woman with very little use for romantic ideals or people who move slowly or without efficiency.  

I didn't hear this, because I was pissed off and distracted, but apparently she handed him his water, pointed to me, and said, "You two back together yet?"

Now, that's enough to make me die by vaporization.  Who told her?  No one?  We're that obvious?  What?

But, apparently (and mercifully), his response was to be startled, then immediately slightly amused, and he responded, "Oh, no ... not quite yet."

If you'll allow me to bullet point again, this is awesome because

• a.) He didn't even attempt to pretend that he didn't know what she was talking about
• b.) he was amused, not horrified
• c.) he used the modifier "yet."  This is exactly the answer I would've given.

However, I spent the next several hours obsessively demanding more detail from the waitress that overheard the exchange and reported it to me.  I feared that this confrontation would freak him out and distance him more, etc. etc. etc.

True to form, the eye contact was slightly more restrained for the remainder of the night.  Not as bad as Tuesday's absurd "look, get caught, jump, stare and the ground for the next ten minutes" routine, but not to full scale by any means.

At the end of the night, when he was all packed up and ready to go, I dawdled around so I could say goodbye.  He tried to disregard me, so I stood and waited for him to turn and acknowledge me, and I said, "are you taking off?"

A bit stupidly, he joked, "Taking off my clothes?" and I said, "What right here?" 

He laughed and said, "A little later on.  It's a private show."  

"Oh," I said, cracking a smile.  "Is that an invitation?"

Which clearly startled him (two points for me), and he started muttering some nonsense about getting paid off by a table, which I asked if it was one of mine, and then upon confirmation said that it usually is.

Out of mercy, I cut him off before he could ramble any more ridiculousness, and asked him if he were taking off for the weekend, which is what I originally meant.  He said no, that he'd be there on Saturday, and I said,

"Good.  I only ask because I'm leaving in two weeks."

"I know," he said, "It's sad."  and I shrugged, wanting to let him know that it doesn't necessarily have to be.

"Well, if I don't see you -," I said, and hugged him.  It was important for me to get a hug in there, as we used to hug constantly and inappropriately before the Great Revelation, but hadn't since.  So, this was the first one.

He told me he was going to stick around and have a drink.  So, I wrapped up quickly and hung out downstairs while he drank and talked to EVERYONE IN THE ROOM BUT ME.

This marginally irritated me until he mentioned to my roommate (who is a Libra, and it was relevant to the conversation) that both of his parents are Libras, and then while she was responding, muttered under his breath, "As is my current girlfriend."

At this point, I snapped, "Okay, time to go," and grabbed my bag, grabbed my roommate, and swung out of the club.  I hope he feels like a dunce about it.  It's really unfortunate every time I realize just how human he is and just how nervous I make him.  

It's hotter to feel like there's this supernaturally sexy guitar player who wants me, and that's the most complicated thing about it.

Jenna and I got home, and then drank wine and talked about other lost opportunities to Gwags, that have always ended in too-little-too-late scenarios on their parts, where years later they confess to wanting us so badly then but how they tried to "do the right thing," blah blah blah.  

I'm still kind of dejected about the whole thing, but at least, since it's the Other Guitarist tonight, I'll be able to focus on making money and not obsessing over making out.

I'm a sociology major and have 12 points left to complete. So I enrolled in Media, Communications & Society as well as Political Sociology. Both worth 6 points each.

Last year I took a unit called Men, Masculinity and Society, also worth 6 points. Figured that for balance, I'd take a unit on women. The unit? Women, Psychiatry and Madness... worth double credit points. What does this tell me? Women are more complex, complicated and worth more than men... No arguments from me on that.

However, it seems that women are also more closely associated with madness and hysteria (consider the origins of the word itself). Needless to say, more will follow on this should I take up the unit. Given that many think I'm already "anti-men" (in thinking men are idiots) and do have a huge problem with misogynists... the unit could prove quite interesting.... I'm just not so sure about the 4,000 word essays.

That post I wrote yesterday about the Primitive Radio Gods may have accidentally spawned a new, but remarkably familiar bit.  While I was writing about how bad Avril Lavigne’s new single is, I couldn’t help but wonder how it is that she has had so many awful songs put out, and will continue to, yet King Missile and Primitive Radio Gods will never again even see the bottom of the Hot 100 list.  It’s enough to make me wonder if the days of the “One Hit Wonder” are over.  Lil Mama has a second hit, after all.

I don’t kid myself to believe that Avril writes any of her own music, but she is the product, and for some reason that’s beyond me, someone’s buying.

Take this horrible new video as an example:

This song is absolute trash.  The cheering is more irritating than the bites of a swarm of black flies.  Avril looks more drugged out than Anna Nicole.  Yet, my biggest complaint is the “entering the chorus” transition.  It just doesn’t sound right, it’s jerky.  This song is horrible, pathetic, and never should have been made.

However, oh so many years ago, Avril Lavigne put out a little ditty called “Complicated.”

That song warmed the hearts of countless young men nationwide.  Complicated was a sweet little ditty about how a girl didn’t like her man acting differently in different company.  It was youthful, innocent, and the video for the song introduced us to Avril’s patented “chicken wing” dance.  If Complicated was all I’d ever heard of Avril, she would definitely be a member of the “Songs I Miss From Bands Who’ve Disappeared” category.  Yet, because she refused to call it quits, she’s rocked herself all the way to my new category: “Bands I Wish Would Have Disappeared After Making That One Song I Kind Of Liked.”

Avril really should have hung it up after Complicated.  Instead of releasing all the shitty music she has since, I wish she would have converted to Hinduism, decided to move to an ashram on the Chota Nagpur Plateau, trading in all of her worldly possessions (most importantly, her writing notebook) in favor of yajnas and teaching at a gurukul.  She would live an ascetic life in the woods, trying to work her way up to Richi-hood.  Oh, lord, why couldn’t that have happened?  Instead, she released two more albums, featuring no less than 10 crappy singles and turned herself into a walking contradiction of what she once pretended to stand for.

Oh, Avril, how I wish you’d gotten out when you were ahead.

1. If we ask you, "Hun, am I fat in this dress?" If you say yes, you're in shit. If you say no, we'll go "yeah right!" If you say nothing, you're also in shit.  If you joke around and say, "Come on! You're not a whale, you're just a dolphin!" That's better. That's what we want, to laugh about it.

2. If we begin to argue with you, it's so easy to get out of an argument usually. All you have to do is say the magical sentence, "I love you. I'm sorry and I don't want to argue. Now let's go cuddle, beautiful!" We will go aww and then cuddle with you. If you don't say it, we will continue to argue with you about ridiculous stuff that you should just apologize for.

3. If you're planning on going out with your friends, please let us know! It's not called "reporting in" to us at all. It's just really nice to know that you'll be out so that we won't bother you. We will just say, "Ok, have fun!" with a smile on our face. If you don't tell us, then we'll find out eventually anyways and ask you, "Why didn't you tell me you were out? I was wondering where you were!" It's easier to just tell us that you're going out and then we'll let you have your fun.

4. Be blunt with us. Period. Tell us why you're mad, frustrated, whatever even if it has something to do with us. Tell us, we'll gladly discuss the issues with you. Don't be a coward and run away from the issues. It only makes them worse. Be a man and face it.

5. You should compliment your woman everyday. We love that. If we don't get a compliment at all, we feel unwanted. Also, it's really nice to surprise your woman once in a while with flowers or something thoughtful.

I think that's all. If you have any more to add to the list, comment! :)

I don't think we're complicated, men over complicate us.

Another mission, the powers have called me away
Another time to carry the colours again
My motivation, an oath that I've sworn to defend
To win the honour of coming back home again
No explanation will matter after we begin
Unlock the dark destroyer that's buried within
My true vocation and now my unfortunate friend
You will discover a war you're unable to win

I'll have you know that I've become indestructible
Determination that is incorruptible
From the other side a terror to behold
Annihilation will be unavoidable
Every broken enemy will know
That their opponent had to be invincible
Take a last look around while you're alive
I am indestructible

by Disturbed

.

Surrounds me,

In the grass, trees, ocean, and breeze.

It almost makes you forget

how life can really get

how reality can drive you crazy

cuz its.....

Chorus:

Complicated

everything can be done five different ways

there's thirty sites for the same thing

and five best friends for one kid

but no one can ever win

So...

v2

I'll just sit it out

try to let things go

take the road less traveled

and be me a little more

Cuz we all try to be

like somebody else and what does that do to our inner self?

It makes things.....

chorus:

Complicated

everything can be done five different ways

there's thirty sites for the same thing

and five best friends for one kid

but no one can ever win

v3

We lose who we are

Every day every hour

And it takes over our lives

It seeps in our soul

and slowly takes control.

And thats how we got where we are

somebody broke your heart.

Now we're...

Chorus:

Complicated

you can love someone and not know why

the six months you've been together

and your not even a couple yet

which just proving the point that no one can ever win