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What's under your bed?
But I'd rather get some head.
Recent Entries 
5th-Jul-2009 02:56 pm - Hello Operator
Ruth Gordon
If you are obsessive compulsive, press 1 repeatedly.
If you are co-dependant ask someone to press 2 for you.
If you have multiple personalities, press 3, 4, 5, and 6.
If you are paranoid, we know what you are and what you want, so stay on the line as we trace your call.
If you are delusional, press 7, and your call will be transferred to the Mother Ship.
If you are schizophrenic, listen closely and a tiny voice will tell you which button to press.
If you are depressed, it doesn’t matter which button you press, no one will answer you.
If you are dyslexic, press 6969696969.
If you have a nervous disorder, please fidget with the flash key until the beep…after the beep please wait for the beep.
If you have short term memory loss, please try your call again later.
And if you have low self esteem, hang up; all our operators are too busy to talk to you.
26th-Jun-2009 02:02 am - 'But Dad, this is the best part!' -->
Ruth Gordon
16th-Feb-2009 09:51 pm - Moar Surveys
Ruth Gordon
It's huge. Seriously.
Onward!Collapse )

Interesting QuestionsCollapse )

I also found this on the FaceBooks:
I'm a Sleezy Alcoholic! What are you?Collapse )
11th-Feb-2009 08:53 pm(no subject)
Ruth Gordon
There's Hug a somebody Day for everyone it seems. But not for anthropologists or archaeologists.
It makes me unhappy.
7th-Feb-2009 01:06 am(no subject)
Ruth Gordon
Tonight I saw Stars. I hardly listen to the band, but it was très cool.
It would have been nice if I could have been less tired, more gutsy, and if the night could have lasted much longer.
Ruth Gordon
Check out my new diggs!

This is it: http://community.livejournal.com/thefulcrum/2480.html#cutid2

Found at The Fulcrum: http://community.livejournal.com/thefulcrum/

It was in the spotlight so I had to check it out.
29th-Jan-2009 10:14 pm(no subject)
Ruth Gordon

I feel like I look like a zombie is taking my face.
Anyway, my parents just went insane because I hid some cashews. Literally, insane.
19th-Sep-2008 09:48 pm - My Way-Too-Long Response to Robb
Ruth Gordon
I am speechless, this is so...frustrating, yet exhilarating at the same time. Thank you for existing, Robb and Brockport, and I hope this issue of bigotry will come to an end relatively soon. I've been in the fight against ignorance and prejudice since eighth grade (and before then) when a complete idiot told me that every homosexual should be shot with a shot gun, and if he found out I was gay, he wouldn't hesitate. Since then, it's been a full on war, and my sociology class is beginning to think of a way to conduct an experiment, but also simultaneously create an environment meant for love.

When my older sister informed me the meaning of homosexuality when I was very young, I had no idea of what it really meant. I just thought 'What does it matter? It hardly affects me. Isn't love just that: Love?' Going thru school, I always asked people if they knew what it was all about. Relatively late in my life, towards the end of elementary school, I heard an interesting term on my bus full of older students. This term was ‘Fag.’ I had no idea what that meant, until I used it. And then someone said that they weren’t gay, in retaliation of course. That’s when I learned, and that’s when I stopped. ‘Fag’ sounded so horrible, so sharp and painful, burning the tongue when used.

Middle school proved to be horrid, where homosexuality seemed to be feared, except for female students. They seemed open to this novel idea of sexuality. It worked for them, and I was happy to see people were okay with openness towards love. But this is when I started to get bullied, because I was the kid that believed these things were normal. It hurt; people began starting my alternate life, where they just called me ‘faggot’ and ‘queer,’ not any of this pretend name calling that friends may do to each other, no… It was complete and utter hatred. I hated everyone; I didn’t know a single person who didn’t care about whether one was straight or gay. Well, those bi-curious girls.

Then that incident in eighth grade: It was the turning point. I was completely shocked that someone could hate so deeply. That someone would make a public threat to me about homosexuality. I wasn’t even gay, and had no intentions. Everyone managed to convince themselves I was because of my ideals, my openness, my love. I learned about this in sociology, it’s called the Thomson Theorem, and I knew that this phenomenon existed; I just didn’t know it was real nor had a name. And what may have been most frustrating of the entire event was that the teacher merely told the student not to say that in class. I asked the teacher why he had no consideration for the homosexual populace, or consideration for the supporters of free love. He merely brushed it off with the idea that it was an opinion, and he could do nothing about it. Needless to say, I became sick of hate, and that school was just a cess pool for ignorance, for hate, for disgust of an entire population of humans.

When I retaliated to this ignorance, this budding prejudice, I would state random facts that probably have no real basis, like how one in every ten people is homosexual. And I would often mock those who belittled me, usually young, athletic males. I would elaborate on how they all play sports that really just look like young boy-love. I realised this was all just repressed anger, and mad me ignorant in the long run. But it helped, and I gained some support in the process. It helped me cope, I suppose, and it made these chauvinists look like total fools. That made me happy, until it just caused more trouble. I ended up becoming afraid of my bus, and I stopped riding it all together. I couldn’t form a relationship, because I was ‘gay,’ even though I don’t exactly remember feeling gay or making a choice, which I hardly even care if one comes out of the womb homosexual or turns homosexual. It doesn’t matter, it’s still emotion, and that is what is important. Who knew one’s own beliefs could make their life miserable. I went through with it though, because it was in the name of love.

I’m leaving out high school, because that is serious bull shit. Nobody should have to go through that hell. Luckily, I had the high school drama club, which was the athletic team for liberal, hippy douche bags.

I remember this movie, Moulin Rouge, and it made perfect sense back then. The main character honoured ‘beauty, truth, freedom; and above all things, love.’ I believed in exactly those things, and I found it embarrassingly cliché, that I put my beliefs in a movie quote, but it was so true. Furthermore, the infamous line ‘The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.’ Again, it became a belief. And still, it all makes so much sense.

‘How cliché,’ I know.
6th-Jul-2008 11:25 pm(no subject)
Ruth Gordon
My dad told me I was a fuck up while I was 'under water.'
Everything looked so wiggly.
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