Just Fred

another shout out to 1588c

A local law enforcement officer stops a car for traveling faster than the posted speed limit. Since he's in a good mood that day he decides to give the poor fellow a break and write him out a warning instead of a ticket. So, he asks the man his name.

"Fred," he replies.

"Fred what?" the officer asks.

"Just Fred," the man responds.

When the officer presses him for a last name, the man tells him that he used to have a last name but lost it. The officer thinks he has a nut case on his hands but plays along with it. "Tell me Fred, how did you lose your last name?"

The man replies, "It's a long story so stay with me. I was born Fred Dingaling. I know, funny last name. The kids used to tease me all the time. So I stayed to myself. I studied hard and got good grades. When I got older I realized that I wanted to be a doctor. I went through college, medical school, internship, residency, finally got my degree so I was Fred Dingaling, MD.

"After a while I got bored being a doctor so I decided to go back to school. Dentistry was my dream. Got all the way through school, got my degree so I was now Fred Dingaling MD DDS. Got bored doing dentistry so I started fooling around with my assistant. She gave me VD. So, I was Fred Dingaling MD DDS with VD.

"Well, the ADA found out about the VD so they took away my DDS so I was Fred Dingaling MD with VD. Then the AMA found out about the ADA taking away my DDS because of the VD, so they took away my MD leaving me as Fred Dingaling with VD.

"Then the VD took away my dingaling so now I'm just Fred." The officer let him go without even a warning.

Stereo-Typical Meme

Original meme is at: http://community.livejournal.com/ever_perceived/92971.html

These words pretend to describe me. These words are words that pretend to describe me. I celebrate myself and so I no longer fear the lies. Darkness and light are indistinguishable from each other. I embrace all of these words:
bi-dyke and queer, atheist or polytheist, raw [self-taught] artist, atypical neurology, strong, woman, disabled, autistic or retarded or something, nuts, psycho, white or off-white of european extraction, language-delayed, angry, t.b.i., survivor liar, unique, different, different drum, pagan, witch, non-wiccan, satanist, free-thinker, lost in thought, dreamer, loner, silence, fluffy bunny, toxic bunny, down with the sickness, disturbed, radical, pissed-off, freak, writer, manipulative, seductive.


I am a bi-dyke and a queer.
You say I must fuck anything that moves.
Not exactly your business, is it?

I create raw art.
I am not interested in what you think are the hidden "meanings" in my artwork.
Go psycho-babble to someone who cares.
I don't care about that shit.
I like art.
And sometimes a rock
really is only a rock.

I am a writer.
Writing is the reason why I get out of bed many mornings.
If you cannot share my joy,
then get the hell out.

I am an atheist with polytheistic hopes and a satanic philos.
You say that I am secretly seeking someone else's g-d and that I will goto your hell.
You are my hell.

I am a non-wiccan witch, pagan, hippie
so I sacrifice the children of christians.
I prefer them with barbeque sauce.
Please remember that when bringing me yours.

I am white or off-white.
I will never find a vodoun community that will accept me.
I am of European descent.
My ancestors screwed over the indigenous North American tribes
during the westward expansion.
My ancestors all came over here from Europe in the 1900s.
Your grasp of history is lacking.

I am disabled and not working. I must be white trash.
I must like being poor. It suits me.
Disability checks make for attractive living.
My traumatic brain injury is supposed to go away
or it is not supposed to give me any more problems
or I am not supposed to talk about it anymore.
I am tired, dammit.

Some professionals labeled me as autistic or retarded or something when I was younger;
whatever was "wrong" with me was because I had "emotional" problems
due to my parentals' problems with each other.
Autism spectrum disorders cannot possibly be
part of atypical neurology. Mine, whatever it was--
autism or Asperger's or--
went away or was totally ignored after I started elementary school.
You decided that "emotional" problems covered everything-- all on your own--
leaving me null and void to drown in your towering logic.
Furthermore, it was a-okay for you to announce this at your father's wake
to a bunch of strangers who I didn't know.
What gave you that right?
I didn't talk or walk when expected.
I have a different way of being than you do.
So what?

I survived childhood and adult rape
and had the strength to talk about it.
You called me delusional, manipulative, and seductive.
And quite the liar too.
I failed to take on your false mantle of acceptability.
I chose instead to tell. By my telling, a few others
may have been spared.
You were doing your job.
You are still bastards, all of you.

I defended someone who was emotionally vulnerable.
I have been judged to be a fluffy bunny and a toxic bunny
within certain communities of folks who really should know better.
If I had to do it all over again, I would.
And I will.
Dear stoopids,
I refuse to eat your pile of shit today.

Because I do my own thing, I must be a freak forever.
Because I am angry, I am not to be viewed in polite society.
Because I am not like you, I am dangerous.

I broke free of addiction.
You are still stuck in the sewer of your expectations and niceties.
Well, fuck that.

spike

Social Acceptability

Social Acceptability has become a dominant lifestyle. In fact, it has taken over. Well, I've had enough of Social Acceptability. And I quit. I am not doing it anymore. No. Nay. Never. Or rather, I am only doing the parts of it that I agree to. And I am dumping the rest of Social Acceptability back into the morass that is the cesspool of societal demands.

If I want to wear teeshirts with holes or jeans with threads hanging off the bottoms or odd artsy color combinations, then I am going to do so. If I want to talk to my dog in public or talk to my houseplants in private, there ain't no stopping me. If I want to express an unpopular opinion in public or at 12-step meetings or in any of my blogs, I'm gonna do that with reckless abandon. Get it? This is far beyond the red hat society; or wearing purple when I am older; or shouting, "We're here! We're queer! And we won't change our clothes!" in a rainstorm during a certain memorable gay-lesbian-trans-bisexual-intersexed-queer pride march in New York City.

I celebrate diversity. I embrace the freedom that I have to be me and the freedom you have to be you. I welcome well-thought out differences of opinions, rational thinking, good-natured debates, the willingness to take risks. Risk-taking is risky. Testing limits is cool. Stretching beyond the norms is freeing. I am a W.Y.S.I.W.Y.G. kind of being. I breath radical stuff. My life is not designed for your comfort.

I am no longer responsible for anyone's comfortability level. Those who are skating over to my blogs during work hours or in front of children should err on the side of caution and assume that something somewhere I post is not work-safe or kid-safe. I use L.J. cuts at El Gay El Jay for all of my entries, and the adult filter at yahell 369 for those entries that contain manure subject matter. Even so, please assume that there are many somethings lurking in my writings that are bound to offend. It just might be that we are each responsible for what we do and where we go when whoever may be watching. You are responsible for what you do at your job, not me. You are responsible for you [and your younger relateds that may be hanging over your shoulder] and I am responsible for me [and my younger relateds who I've told clearly not to hang over my shoulder].

Oh sure, I do agree to certain basic principles that make for good living with others like clean clothes, armpits that don't reek, freedom from dirt-encrusted skin and hair that one can squeeze salad dressing out of, mowing the lawn before my dog gets entangled in it, upkeep of my castle home, attempting to stay within the restraints guidelines set by service providers, and all of that. That is for my own comfort and the comfort of the 4 leggeds that live with me. Not for yours.

I have never considered Social Acceptability to be one of my goals. That is not going to change. I've earned the right to celebrate my own eccentricity. And even if you think I haven't, that's just too bloody bad. Complain to your boring Socially Acceptable friends, whine to your god, work through it with your sponsor or spiritual adviser or teacher, go do the Drama Llama dance, whatever. And hey. Here's a slug quarter. Call someone who cares even. Cuz i sure don't.

spike