fierynotes: Picture of Destruction, from the Sandman series, reading a book and slinging a guitar. (Default)
This is my front page. If you want me to add you, drop me a line here. Or, add me. Either way, I'll check you out. You can also drop me a line here if, for instance, you don't have my email address. All comments here are screened.

This post also includes every tag I have -- this is because my current LJ style doesn't include a tag index. (At least half of my participation on LJ is on my phone. I chose this style because, as bare-bones as it is, it loads quickly and it's still readable on a small screen.)

I'd tell you more about myself, but that's what my profile -- and the rest of my LJ -- is for.
fierynotes: Picture of Daimon, from Marvel comics, without a shirt.  'Look at me, I have muscles!' (flirty)
Dear Bible-pounding jerkoffs hanging out outside train stations,

Just as your faith is clearly an important part of your life, fitness is an important part of mine. Lemme tell you a few things about it.

I live it every day. I practice it every day. It has improved my life in a dozen obvious and less-obvious ways. I am a happier and better person for having it. Lifting weights has taught me lessons about working toward goals with non-immediate results -- lessons I've applied elsewhere in my life. Because I'm now a little bigger and scarier, and because I also more closely match our culture's body standards, the world treats me better... and I've found that as a result, I am much nicer to the world now than I was when I was skinny. And hey, confidence is a good thing, right?

And yet, I do not judge non-believers. I certainly don't look for opportunities to tell non-believers about the horrible fates awaiting them if they don't start living as I do.

This isn't to say I never preach. Obviously, I talk about it in my journal online, but it's my journal, it's about my life, and fitness is an important part of it. (A few people I know talk about their relationship with God in their journals. Same thing. It's part of their lives.) Sometimes, I preach in the real world, too... but usually only when asked. Occasionally, people in my life ask me questions. I do my best to answer them. Sometimes, people take the first steps on the road I'm currently walking. I do my best to encourage them. While most of the people who've noticed that I'm a different person now don't feel like emulating my life choices, a few people -- just a few! -- have been inspired to make changes for themselves. Where you have only managed to alienate people, I've actually had a positive effect.

There's a lesson in this, if you look closely.

Sincerely,

[personal profile] fierynotes



Dear Judgmental asshole,

I apologize for my response to your missive. While hysterical laughter (preceded by choking noises) was certainly an appropriate response, it wasn't exactly as well-argued or well-thought-out as I would have liked. So, in the spirit of the staircase (that sounds much better in French), I'd like to say a few things I really wish I'd thought to say to you. It's not like I think I'll actually have a chance to say this to your face, but what the hell -- I'll have them ready for the next judgmental asshole.

One: thank you. I knew that one day, people would be making cracks about me going to the gym to compensate for certain... ahem, shortcomings, but I figured that I was still too skinny for anyone to think that, and a few more years of hard work stood between me and that day. Apparently, I'm not the best judge of my own progress. So... again, thank you.

Two: If you actually believe that male gymrats build themselves up to compensate for undersized penises... there's this thing called gay porn. You should look into it. You'll find plenty of counterexamples. I'd guess that doing a google image search for "muscular hung naked" or suchlike would also find you plenty of counterexamples, but I've typed enough interesting things into Google for one day (here on LJ, here on DW), so you'll have to look for yourself.

Three, and perhaps most importantly: making assumptions about a person's character flaws from their body shape makes you a judgmental asshole. In your case, it probably also makes you a hypocrite, since I'm sure at least one judgmental asshole has looked at your belly and made some unfair and unflattering assumptions about you. In my case, it also makes you wrong, but I don't expect you to believe that, and I wouldn't show it to you any more than I would show my pale-but-well-shaped ass to this asshole... for all the same reasons.

Sincerely,

[personal profile] fierynotes
fierynotes: Picture of a B diminished 7th chord (B, D, F, A flat) followed by an inversion, in flames. (Bdim7)
Dear Fleshgod Apocalypse,

It seems you have your own brand of pasta and wine now...



As much fun as it was to watch your video (and it was totally adorable that your drummer used a pad instead of a drum because he has a small child who was asleep)... couldn't you have started with your own brand of coffee, first?



Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes

PS: if you'd been selling the pasta when I saw you live, I would have probably bought it just because it seems like a fun thing to have. Not sure about the wine, though...
fierynotes: Picture of Daimon, from Marvel comics, without a shirt.  'Look at me, I have muscles!' (flirty)
Dear little wanna-be Usher,

Congratulations on your definition. But seriously, this ain't the locker room, and this ain't a dance club, so put on a fuckin' shirt. Right on the great big sign on the wall, there's bunch of rules, and one of them is "put on a fuckin' shirt." And while I'm complaining... the ladies here at the gym are, well... at a gym. While a certain amount of socializing happens at gyms, they are here, first and foremost, to work out. They are probably not looking for dick just now. In fact, at a guess, they're looking for staff, because you're annoying them... oh, look, I was right!

Bye bye!

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes



Dear giant tank,

Congratulations on your bulk, and thank you for observing the aforementioned "put on a fuckin' shirt" rule. In theory, at least. You've kinda hacked the shit out of your shirt. Seriously, what did the poor thing ever do to you? There's almost nothing left of it!

Also, I frequently have stuff like Septic Flesh, Strapping Young Lad, and Deicide blasting in my ears when I work out. I should not be able to hear you grunting... and yet, I do. Not grunting, so much, but yelling with each rep. Are you giving birth or something?

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes



Dear idiot,

Congratulations on the amazing numbers you're racking up. Pressing 990 pounds up a sled is a truly amazing feat... or it would be, if you were actually moving the damned thing. Three inches up and down, with your knees straight, isn't really doing much for you beyond stressing your joints. Did no one teach you about range of motion?

I wouldn't mind so much, since it's your body, and if you want to mess up your knees, who am I to stop you... but there are only so many 45-pound plates in the gym, and you're hogging twenty-two of them. And to top things off, you're leaving them all on the sled when you're done.

Asshole.

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes
fierynotes: Picture of Arsenal, from DC comics, looking very pissed off. (violent)
Dear Chris Culliver,

Gay players should stay in the closet ten years after retiring from football? REALLY?

I realize that it's too much to hope that Chris Kluwe kicks you in the nuts, but I hope that several of your team-mates are gay, I hope that they all admire the hell out of your ass, I hope they all tell you so after they're not playing with you anymore, and I hope that this happens soon.

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes

PS: The title is partly in jest. The rest of the 49ers are apparently much better than Culliver on this issue.
fierynotes: Picture of Arsenal, from DC comics, looking very pissed off. (violent)
Dear lefty cranks,

There is a time and a place for sharing your delusion that banning guns will make people stop misusing them, because surely a would-be lunatic who has no respect for the law with respect to killing people will obey the law with respect to obtaining guns, and surely those laws will make guns harder to obtain (those laws work so well for drugs, after all). "A few hours after some lunatic shoots up a school" is not one of those times. Please shut the hell up and stop using the dead to score cheap talking points... assholes.

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes



Dear righty cranks,

There is a time and a place for sharing your delusion that arming everyone else will result in just one dead lunatic rather than more fatalities, because surely all those other armed people will see several people with guns and instantly recognize which one is the lunatic that needs to be taken down, and surely they won't shoot each other in a panic. "A few hours after some lunatic shoots up a school" is not one of those times. Please shut the hell up and stop using the dead to score cheap talking points... assholes.

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes
fierynotes: Picture of Arsenal, from DC comics, looking very pissed off. (angry)
Dear Bill-O,

I work in retail (for now), and the Christmas season tends to come with a lot more irritating customers. I'm surrounded by awful Christmas music at work, most of which isn't exactly shy about what a fabulous guy Jesus was. (Seriously, lots of stores are trying to be more respectful of cultural diversity by not putting up lights... but by playing Christmas music nonstop? How does that even work?) And many of the people who will be getting gifts from me will have to wait until mid-to-late January, when I'll be a bit less broke and a bit more able to shop. (At least this year's cookie-pocalypse went well...)

I promise you, there is no "War on Christmas." If there were, I'd have signed up long ago.

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes

PS: I actually like Christmas lights when they aren't accompanied by crap music we've all heard a million times. And I have to say there's something funny about pairing them with metal.



Dear Matt Barber,

So you think atheists should be punched in the mouth for participating in the aforementioned "War on Christmas?"

How very Christlike of you.

Please, try. Because I don't believe in turning the other cheek, and I bet I punch a lot harder than you do.

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes
fierynotes: Picture of Gilgamesh Wulfenbach, from Girl Genius.  He looks tired. (tired)
Dear Mittens,

All that money pissed away on your behalf, and you're still not in the White House. Pthbthbthbthbthbthb!!!

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes



Dear Obama,

You're in. Again. Congratulations. Don't get too smug, though -- I voted for you because the opposing ticket was full of pathological liars, sociopaths, and overall shit-roosters. I'm still peeved because four years ago I thought I was voting for a liberal president and didn't get one. Howzabout proving me wrong? You know, since you're on your second and final term, and you've hopefully learned by now that trying to appease the other side will get you not a damned thing?

(I'm being a little naive here, huh?)

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes
fierynotes: Picture of Hotstreak, from the cartoon Static Shock.  He looks annoyed. (annoyed)
Dear guys who play video games,

Do you bristle against the reputation you have as sexually obsessed losers? Do you resent the constant implications that you'd spend all day in your basement playing games and jerking off if the real world would let you? Do you happen to be one of those people who talks until you're blue in the face about how it's just a few bad eggs giving you all a bad name?

Well, you still have a lot of work to do. A bit more lately, matter of fact.



Sincerely,
[livejournal.com profile] fierynotes
fierynotes: Picture of Hotstreak, from the cartoon Static Shock.  He looks annoyed. (annoyed)
Well, not really. Apparently, Craigslist is considering taking down the post in question, so this may only work as a short-term announcement... but the internet preserves everything. It's like formaldehyde that way.

Short version: guy takes over three thousand wards to explain how he gets married to Ms. Jeckyl and finds Ms. Hyde in his honeymoon suite. Ms. Hyde doesn't feel like putting out, ever, so he bangs a foreign girl during the honeymoon (followed eventually by banging 29 more women over the course of a three-year-marriage), and justifies himself as following his own biological needs, which of course must be met, inside of marriage or not. Meanwhile, Ms. Hyde sits around the house, does no housework, gest fat (oh noes!), and spends all his money. So this poor bastard is getting a divorce, and posting on Craigslist as a warning to all those dumb bitches out there that he's a hot mess they need to put out for their man or else he'll stray, because it's not like they have anything else to offer him in a relationship. Seriously, it's like the show Married With Children, except there's no children and in this latter it's the wife (instead of the husband) who never wants sex.

Wow. With all that contempt for women as a whole in that letter, I need to ask -- have you considered fucking dudes instead? No, forget I said that -- gay men have enough problems in this culture without including jerks like you in their ranks.

Now, assuming that there's a grain of truth here and there in this open letter, the lady seems to be as much of an asshole as the gentleman... but there are hints that this isn't the case. "You grudgingly gave it up once a week for a while. Still, you had become rather critical. You called it 'coaching me,' or 'teaching you what I like'." Sure, this could be a critical sex-hating ball-busting harpy... but couldn't this also be the lady saying something like "slow down, it doesn't feel good being jackhammered" or "gimme a week to recover from the last time you ignored me when I said I didn't like being jackhammered"?

But then, all the women I've had have actually enjoyed sex with me... even if the rest of the relationship was crap. Clearly my privilege is showing.

I have a couple of theories about this guy. One of them starts with the idea that we create our own misery, and he subconsciously chose the most horrible woman he could find, because he wants to be proven right about how horrible women are more than he wants to be happy. Therefore, he's telling the truth about this particular woman, and in doing so he's bragging about how he succeeded in proving himself right. If this is the case, he should never marry again.

My other theory is that he's the awful person, and she put up with him the best she could, becoming a bit more assertive when they said "I do" because she'd committed to the guy and wanted him to be less of a shlub. Perhaps she stopped doing dishes to see how long it would take for him to rinse a damn plate, for instance. If this is the case, he should never marry again. (For now, I'll skip the speculation into why she'd marry him in the first place. Perhaps she'll post her own letter about him on Craigslist later. I'll attempt it then.)
fierynotes: Picture of Hotstreak, from the cartoon Static Shock.  He looks annoyed. (annoyed)
Dear Dave Mustaine,

Are you fucking nuts? No, that was a rhetorical question -- you very clearly are. Not that I should be all that surprised, since you've previously shown yourself to believe some truly vile shit, but you've confirmed my decision that if I'm every going to listen to your music again, it will only be after pirating it.

Sincerely,
[livejournal.com profile] fierynotes
fierynotes: Picture of Arsenal, from DC comics, looking very pissed off. (angry)
Dear parents,

Eventually, your kids grow up. Soon after, and in fact for some time before, they do this horrible thing that involves them discovering who they are and forming their own opinions and values. Little Suzy may decide she wants to snog other girls, Little Timmy may decide he wants to snog other boys. Little Bobby might decide that the name Bobbi fits him better, and while he's at it, pronouns like "her" fit her better, too. Little Christina might decide that someone she's never met has no business endebting her by dying for her sins. (I don't mean to exclude you here if your child is a Sagir Fuad, or a Qatan Yechezqel, or a Chiisai Fumio...) Or Little Lisa might consider your desire to have grandchildren, and decide that she has other plans.

This happens in less earth-shattering ways, as well. As your kid grows up, they'll develop tastes in music that you'll no doubt perceive as noise. They'll want to style their hair in ways you don't like. They'll want to wear clothing that makes you want to gouge out your own eyes. They won't want to be a doctor or a lawyer just like Mummy or just like Daddy.

Or, GASP! Your kid might get a tattoo! (Warning: this link contains a ludicrious amount of angst, whinging, self-inflicted personal crisis, and enough woe-is-me that the mother in question ought to just staple-gun her own wrist to her forehead and be done with it.)

If you can't handle the fact that one day, your kid will be their own person instead of just a reflection of you, this is something you should have thought about before you had kids.

Sincerely,
[livejournal.com profile] fierynotes
fierynotes: Picture of a B diminished 7th chord (B, D, F, A flat) followed by an inversion, in flames. (Bdim7)
Dear [Octavia],

I haven't thought of you for a while, because it's been a while since we've gone our separate ways. If I still had the means to contact you, I'd want you to know that I bear you no ill will, remember you pretty fondly, and understand why you had to end things between us -- just as I'm not cut out for monogamy, you weren't cut out for the alternatives. Still, it was one of my better breakups. You gave me mushrooms (I've since cleaned up), and I gave you an ahem-toy that resembled me as much as was possible given relatively short notice.

The reason I'm thinking of you lately? One of my friends bought an electric cello.

Way back when, you taught me a few things on your own cello, and if you were still in my life, you'd be surprised at how much I retained for having only touched the instrument at your place, and then not touched on for several years. My fingering could use work, but I'm a guitarist at heart -- I'm used to having frets. My bowing is actually not bad. There isn't any of that horrible beginner scratchiness in my technique, though I still have to be careful not to end up with octave overtones overpowering the primary note. I'm sure you'd know exactly what I'm doing wrong, and if I get one of these things for myself and play it regularly, I'll no doubt remember it myself.

My friend was very impressed, enough that he asked me to try to explain bowing to him. He's not going to become Rostropovich any time soon -- he's starting at least twenty years too late to have any chance at that. But then, the same could've been said about me, and you thought me worth teaching.

Thank you.

Sincerely,
[livejournal.com profile] fierynotes
fierynotes: Picture of a black sockpuppet. (footsie)
Dear various internet wiseasses,

Thank you. I was a little worried when Santorum called Obama a nigg...oops, and the first thing I thought of was a certain scene from Blazing Saddles. My inappropriateness filter occasionally goes on the fritz, but I was afraid that it had just snapped altogether.

And then I saw some of you, and realized I was not alone. Thank you.

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes



Dear would-be President Frrrothymix,

I ought to be angrier at you for calling Obama a nigg...oops. I suppose I'm not because you've already proven to be a hateful son of a bitch with respect to the LGBT crowd, and in favor of women (after all, every man should own one), and your stance on dem horrible immigrants is typical fear of brown people, so I'm not terribly surprised that you think black people are lesser beings as well. My emotional state as a result of you half-blurting out a racial slur was, well, filling in one more space on a bingo card that's already halfway to blackout. It certainly wasn't shock.

Still, I'm a bit annoyed. Couldn't you have waited until the primary was finished before you put your foot in your mouth mid-thigh? As it is, you've all but handed Romney the primary. He scares me. He's a little too good at pretending to be a decent human being, whereas I liked your odds of getting pounded by Obama better. Besides, you've deprived me of a few more months of headlines like "Obama squeezes out Santorum."

Your fuck-up needs to spread far and wide, and since the mainstream media seems to be ignoring it, I'm doing my part. Seriously, I haven't been this tempted to do a dance mix since I heard the story about Bill-O shouting "I want to go to a gay bathhouse" at Dan Savage, and unlike Bill-O's outburst, I can actually find yours. And I normally hate dance mixes. Still, this one has potential.

"Government nig... uh... Government nig... uh..."

00ntz, 00ntz, 00ntz, 00ntz, 00ntz, 00ntz, 00ntz, 00ntz...

"Government nig... uh... Government nig... uh..."

00ntz, 00ntz, 00ntz, 00ntz, 00ntz, 00ntz, 00ntz, 00ntz...

I can't exactly play my fiddle as your career burns, since I don't have a fiddle, but I have a computer, and that counts for a lot these days.

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes
fierynotes: Picture of Arsenal, from DC comics, looking very pissed off. (angry)
Dear Bill O'Reilly,

Drugs are a hard thing to escape, and when you don't have them, or when you've had too much of them and they're starting to lose their shine, the world can feel like a very ugly place. If you can't find something to hold on to, it's all too easy to kill yourself, and it's even easier to stop caring whether you live or die. This is made more difficult by the fact that when you start behaving like an addict, it tends to push away the people who care about you, those people with ties to you that could make life worth living if you could just see them. If you're rich or famous, the people who aren't pushed away by that kind of behavior probably don't give a shit about you, and if you're at all perceptive, you probably know it.

I've seen this too many times, minus the fame. I've been there, minus the fame -- since I had no fame or wealth, I at least knew everyone who chose to be around me gave a shit about me, though at times I couldn't see the reasons for it. I have too many friends who've been there. I have at least one friend who is watching this cycle close-up again after having escaped it himself. If you take away the glamour and fame, that dead pop star could have been me, or any one of a bunch of people I care about. I was able to find reasons to care about myself, reasons to continue living, reasons to stop destroying myself. Plenty of other people are not as lucky, and as we've seen lately, fame doesn't really help.

Not that I expect you to give a shit what I think, but with all this in mind, here goes:

Fuck you. Fuck you sideways with a rusty metal sculpture of a very large cactus. Every word you've said about Whitney Houston is technically correct, but proves you don't understand a godsdamned thing. The sad thing is, for you, that's a step up.

Sincerely,
[livejournal.com profile] fierynotes
fierynotes: Picture of Arsenal, from DC comics, who clearly sees something he likes. (leers)
Dear SciFi SyFy,

At this point in time, you now have a very... impressive... back-catalog of original movies. Nearly 150 of them, according to your own website, all of which seem to have one thing in common: they blow dead goats. I understand why you're doing this. If you play other people's movies, you have to pay them for licensing. If you make your own, one day you hope that other people will play them on their networks and you'll get paid licensing. A cunning plan, except that no one is ever going to want to play your movies because they're so bad. I'm sorry, but they stink. They are stinkers and they stink.

But! All is not lost! I've thought of three ways that you can redeem yourselves for all of these bad movies in one stroke.

One: Hire a snarky astronaut and his two snarky robots to provide commentary.

Two: Hire a well-endowed snarky redhead who wears a black beehive to provide commentary.

Three: Hire a snarky astronaut, his two snarky robots, and a well-endowed snarky redhead in a black beehive to provide commentary. Obviously, this one's my favorite, and I thought I'd give you a little glimpse of what that enterprise might look like.

Sample image below the cut. )

I can't possibly be the only one who thinks that this could be a really good idea! I'm sure a lot of people would watch it!

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes
fierynotes: Picture of Arsenal, from DC comics, looking very pissed off. (violent)
Dear 50 Cent,

I'm over twenty-five, and I eat pussy. Having said that, I just saw one of your tweets and I think you're a scumbag. But that's okay. I've always thought you were a hundred different kinds of scumbag; you've merely demonstrated yourself to be yet one more. I think the suicide rate among LGBTQetc people is too high already, especially lately, and you clearly think it's a good thing, complete with a little "LOL" at the end, because you clearly think this is one big joke.

Blow me, you fucking poser.

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes

PS: Your grammar, language, and spelling are a fucking crime in and of themselves. What the fuck did the English language ever do to you?

(Many thanks to [personal profile] crowdog66, who saw it before I did and led me to search for it.)
fierynotes: Picture of Bill Weasley, from Harry Potter, looking serious. (staring)
Dear [livejournal.com profile] lunaseastar

Thank you for writing. I'd originally intended to reply to you, but you deleted your whole damned LJ, so I can't. Here, then, is what I'd intended to tell you. I've worked around a few things, since I didn't originally intend for this to be a public post, but the overall direction remains.

You have two major problems, as I see it. The first is you've created a huge mess. The second is that you are that person who created a huge mess. I know these sound like the same problem, and they are related, but one has to do with the world around you, and one has to do with you as a person.

Let's talk about that first problem. I'm very sorry to say this, but there is likely nothing you can do to save those friendships. It's not just the feeling of betrayal -- you'd be surprised at how people can get over that. The problem is that you're just too damned good.

You are, really. When I said you belonged onscreen or onstage, I wasn't joking... and everyone involved realizes just how good you are. No matter your sincerity, or your devotion to being better, there's going to be a doubt in the back of everyone's mind... and because you were such a brilliant performer in the past, there's no way you can assuage their fears.

(I am obviously aware of this phenomenon, but I'm not any more immune to it for that awareness. I am trying like hell to assume good faith on your part, and part of me -- most of me, in fact -- still insists that this letter you've written to me is simply another act in the play.)

There is nothing you can do about this. You very likely can not fix this mess. You should probably work on not making your current mess bigger, and not recreating it with new people.

I had hopes for you, until I saw you'd commented elsewhere, threatening to start the drama all over again, stating that you've saved every scrap of evidence. What the hell do you hope to accomplish? If your goal is to tear that other party down, how will you benefit? Even if you are the victor in that cage match -- unlikely, as you have a huge credibility problem -- do you think you will get back any of the relationships that you once had, that are now in ruins? Do you seriously think that starting all that shit up again won't make you look even worse? Do you simply not care, as long as you can drag someone down into hell with you?

At least, with me and likely with others, you appear to feel remorse, as well as disgust with yourself. This is good. You've done some really shitty stuff, and the fact that you appear to recognize this -- and hate yourself for it -- shows you're not completely a lost cause.

This is the simpler of the two major problems you're facing. The answer is, in theory, really simple -- stop being that person. Decide what you want to be, and work on being that. You've already done this once, in deciding that you do not want to be a junkie ever again. (For what it's worth, I do believe you were a junkie once, just as I was.) Do so again. Decide that you are not going to be that liar ever again. But don't do this for me, or for any of the people you've hurt. There's likely nothing you can do to reach them or get them back. Do it for yourself. Do it because you want to be someone you don't hate. Do it because self-hatred hurts, and this is the only way you can make it stop that won't end up killing you.

As a side note, since you mention drugs... many drug users have, for lack of a better way to put it, a hole in their heart, and drugs make it very easy to pretend that hole isn't there. You very clearly still have that hole. Find something good and meaningful to fill it. Religion is one of the more common things -- if you've read any AA literature, you'll find it mentions god a lot. Myself, I chose weights -- in addition to putting on a lot of weight at the gym, I've found it to have great value as anger management, and an unlikely form of meditation. Somehow, I doubt either of these are for you, but something out there is. Find it.

On a more personal note, I appreciate your apology. I find that I'm reluctant to tell you to piss off for good -- think of it as a small glimmer of hope on my part. That said, I am absolutely not ready to let you back in, and I strongly suspect I never will be.

As I said earlier, you're just too damned good.

Sincerely,
[livejournal.com profile] flamingchords

(Comments are screened. If [livejournal.com profile] lunaseastar wants to reply, I want them to be able to. For that matter, if any of you have been contacted by them lately (I know one of you has, and I suspect others as well), I welcome your thoughts.)
fierynotes: Picture of Hotstreak, from the cartoon Static Shock.  He looks annoyed. (annoyed)
Dear Children's Television Workshop,

Katy Perry was overexposed already. Did you really need to give her more exposure?

No, I'm not complaining about the fact that you can see that -- gasp! -- she has tits. I have no objection at all to her tits; indeed, I think they may be her only two redeeming qualitites, and considering that they weren't showing all that much, I think a whole bunch of parents need to stop getting their knickers in a twist over them. Believe me, babies have seen tits before. Many babies see tits regularly. It's not going to kill them to see tits again.

No, I'm bitching about Katy Perry's media overexposure. Did the world really need a music video of her singing "Hot and Cold" (warning: really fucking annoying) with cockpunch-me Elmo (warning: also really fucking annoying)? No. The world could have kept spinning happily along without that horrible clip being created. What's next? "I Kissed a Girl" with cameos by Miss Piggy and Janice?

Seriously, Sesame Street has a long, distinguished history of being awesome, and this video is concentrated suck. Couldn't you have chosen Lady Gaga or Beyonce or, you know, someone with talent?

(As much as I don't like Beyonce or Lady Gaga's music, I respect them both a lot as performers, and I would love to see Miss Piggy singing "All the Single Ladies" or "Paparazzi.")

Sincerely,
[personal profile] fierynotes

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fierynotes: Picture of Destruction, from the Sandman series, reading a book and slinging a guitar. (Default)
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