http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php en Thu, 20 Nov 2008 19:57:52 GMT vBulletin 60 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/images/skins/rf_blue/misc/rss.jpg http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=88 Tue, 11 Nov 2008 03:00:06 GMT Lately I'm feeling the pressure of trying to be smart.

I'm working on a thesis. Love it. I'm a very lucky girl. But when I meet with my review committee they get excited because they read a lot of "deeper" issues that I never considered. It's embarrassing to hear all of the topics I've covered (race. sex. politics. the human condition) when I know damn well I wouldn't try to address all those intense issues. I thought I was just painting about post-911 stuff, and being a self-involved art student.

Now when it's time to write the paper about the art, I want to live up to all of those comprehensive expectations, but I'm putting it off because I'm nervous that I won't be able to articulate all that "smart" stuff. I understand it now, but it was never mine.

I'm also looking ahead at jobs I'm almost qualified for, but worried there's some key thing I don't know. Like all the profs who are encouraging are patronizing me somehow. Telling me my stuff is good when it's average. Giving me grades because I work hard. Being nice to me because I'm anxious. How would I ever know if they were?

It's a reflection of what I'm afraid I do to my students because giving easy A's can make "teaching" easier. I'm not being hailed as a genius, but I don't want to disappoint the people who have contributed to my success as a grad student either.

The desire to teach is assuming you have valuable knowledge that you want to share, and I'm firm on that, but it's getting more complicated. I feel like someone might tap me on the shoulder, call me a fraud, and gesture to a plate of ham-n-eggs.

Don't know why I'm blogging. Maybe someone else feels the same way, or will blast me until I snap out of it. ]]> Mullenax http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=88 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=87 Tue, 21 Oct 2008 05:06:56 GMT Found it ! (http://www.badgerbadgerbadger.com/) Found it ! ]]> Fez4PrezN2008 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=87 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=86 Sat, 04 Oct 2008 04:11:48 GMT Well, it has been years since I have booked my own flights. Today I had to book a flight for personal reasons. While I had the itinerary scheduled,... Well, it has been years since I have booked my own flights.

Today I had to book a flight for personal reasons. While I had the itinerary scheduled, I had to make sure the airline had it right.

Booking the flight was no problem actually, what bothered me was being redirected to folks that had less than a good command of the english language.

Also the fact that I am not traveling for business or pleasure, but to tend to a distant relative that is suffering from dementia. The man is 83 and his mind is really off. I remember him well, he is an ex Boeing engineer, he worked on the 737 and 747 projects. He had a brilliant mind, but now he is just in an awful place.

So I will stay with him for a couple of week without the comfort and stability of my wife, dog, business,

OK I am just venting. I actually look forward to being in AZ, though I would prefer Phoenix to Yuma. ]]> canelupo http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=86 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=84 Sat, 23 Aug 2008 16:46:40 GMT i took my son to college yesterday. i have to say it was one of the hardest things i have ever had to do in my life. its been almost 24 hours and... i took my son to college yesterday. i have to say it was one of the hardest things i have ever had to do in my life. its been almost 24 hours and the tears are still flowing. i know that i will be okay, but this really really sucks. ]]> mellen318 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=84 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=83 Sat, 12 Jul 2008 15:13:54 GMT Tom woke up on the train. He poked his head above his seat and the sea of people were gone. The scattered remnants of newspapers rustled in the seats... Tom woke up on the train. He poked his head above his seat and the sea of people were gone. The scattered remnants of newspapers rustled in the seats as the train stopped. He strained to see the station stop, but gave up. A trickle of people emerged from the train onto the platform and Tom watched them shuffle toward the parking lot.

Suddenly the metal door opened and a conductor barked. "Last Stop, buddy."

And Tom got off. ]]> thejives http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=83 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=81 Thu, 05 Jun 2008 01:59:24 GMT CANT BELIEVE RON DIDN'T KNOW WHAT STRATEGIST MEANT:laugh: ]]> ODSSHILL http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=81 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=80 Wed, 28 May 2008 20:41:21 GMT This story is a little old, but it leads into the story of the life versus death events that I experienced tonight. The time, nine years ago. I... This story is a little old, but it leads into the story of the life versus death events that I experienced tonight.

The time, nine years ago. I live in a very small two bedroom house. It is late at night and I am chatting with my good friend Bill on AOL. Suddenly I hear someone in my house. I had heard a similar sound a few minutes before, but I disreguarded it. This was much louder and there was no doubt that someone was in my house. I quickly messaged Bill "I think someone is in my house, if you do not hear back from me in 10 minutes call the police." I creep from my spare bedroom with ninja like stealth into the kitchen. I've seen many horror films, so the first thing I do is check the knife block and all large knives are accounted for, until I snag the largest one. Some home invader is about to get gutted. I make my way towards the master bedroom which is the only place the intruder could possibly be. Suddenly a deep crashing noise is heard behind me, I spin in the crouched attack possition to encounter .................................................. .............................. my refridgerator. After a second I come down from my battle rage and realize that earlier in the day I began defrosting my rediculously frosted over freezer and now chunks of ice were falling off the freezer from defrosting. In the end I defeated the freezer by completely defrosting it. Not as exciting as a life or death knife fight with a home invader, but I did still prevail. I had a thouroughly defrosted freezer and good story to tell for the ages.

Fast forward, May 22nd 2008. Whenever I percieve danger, I recollect on my cool, calm collective when dealing with my freezer, the home invader. Well tonight is a little different. I might even be in a safer environment then my own home in Burlington. Forest City Iowa, population 4,500. I park my truck at a gas station and walk a couple of blocks to sports bar that I hang out for a couple hours to watch the NBA playoffs. It is about 10:30 and plenty dark when I am walking back to my truck. As I am walking by a car dealership I see someone concealing themselves behind a car in my path and upon seeing me they duck behind the car. The only possible reason for such behavior is that they are going to attack me. At this point I am more concerned with punishing the attacker then I am with avoiding him. So I pull my keys out and firmly place one between each knuckle and clench my fist creating a Wolverine type weapon. I continue on, even whistling as if that indicates I am oblivious to the inevitable attack. Three slim metal dull spikes extend from my right fist ready to impale my asailant in the throat. As I pass the vehicle, I stop and turn to face my asailant when the slight breeze changes directions. My attacker is roughly twelve inches high and wide and tied to a nylon string to the rear view mirror. My expert attacker senses had once again identified an inadimate object as a life or death situation. This time it was a balloon.

I confidently approached my assailant and effortlessly placed my left hand behind his head and with a quick thrust rarely witnessed in self defense, I plunged my keys deep into my foe quickly ending existance as it had once known it.

Nick the Cock 2 , Helpless perceived life threatening inadimate objects 0. Tune in next week when I attempt to outrun the mugger known as my own shadow. ]]> Nick the Cock http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=80 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=79 Mon, 14 Apr 2008 04:36:07 GMT Nasty ex punked me with a no contact. DC judges will beleieve anything! Nasty ex punked me with a no contact. DC judges will beleieve anything! ]]> DCJunkie http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=79 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=78 Tue, 01 Apr 2008 02:15:34 GMT Those of you who have dealt with me the past 5 months know that I am never serious about anything. Sorry to break that streak... Last October, I... Those of you who have dealt with me the past 5 months know that I am never serious about anything. Sorry to break that streak...


Last October, I hit a point in my life that by any definiton sucked. I had just lost my mother after a year and a half battle with cancer, and my business was taking a nose dive because, due to her not having insurance at the time, I was spending all my time and money taking care of her. My family took a back seat as I focused all of my energy and resources, both physical and emotional, on to her. After she died, I was in a stupor for about two to three weeks. I was losing focus.

I have been a junkie for laughter my entire life. Without being the rich kid, or the athletic kid, or the good-looking kid, or the popular kid, it was either the funny kid or nothing. I picked funny kid and ran with it. Turns out I was good at it. Making people laugh, and being accepted by them because of it, became a drug to me.

I had been listening to Ron and Fez for the entirety of my mother's illness. As hack as it sounds, it kept me going. Partly because of the humor, and partly for Ronnie's no-nonsense, quit-your-bitching, we're-all-gonna-die-so-have-fun-while-you-can view on life. And I kept hearing about this odd place called RonFez.net....

And you people were hilarious. And dramatic. I watched the interaction between the members and felt an actual love between most of them that you don't see on other boards. But I wasn't gonna join, I was just some schmuck from Delaware, these people couldn't possibly think anything I had to say was interesting.

Would they?

By the end of October, I was at my wit's end. I needed something to occupy my mind and my thoughts. I needed an outlet. I joined the board. I never looked back.

None of you will ever know how important those next five months were. It was therapeutic. It was cathartic. It was what I needed. I laughed harder than I had in a good while. And I hope I was able to pay back some of those laughs over time.

However, I am an owner of a landscape company and I am shortly expecting another child. My wife, my children, and my business need me. As great as this place is, it requires a commitment of time that is no longer available to me, and will continue to be in short supply. Sure, I could hack in here and there and throw down some meaningless garbage, but who wants that?

So I'm sorry this blog hasn't been funnier, but I wanted to just once let you know seriously how much I appreciate the warmth and openness. Thank you.


Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to the guy behind you.

Awkward..... ]]> DiabloSammich http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=78 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=73 Fri, 07 Mar 2008 13:22:29 GMT Once again, a group of parents (mostly mothers) have taken it upon themselves to "fight" against what they consider to be indecent and pornographic, by targeting their local Spencer Gifts store and raising all holy hell. This time, it's in North Carolina. These groups of crusaders, calling themselves – Cherishing Understanding Nurturing Truth Seers, are popping up all over the country, seemingly in defense of their innocent children and the children of others. But a closer examination of this group reveals a darker and more disturbing view of the lack of parental responsibility and the "blame everyone else but me for my fucked up kids" mentality that has seemed to permeate today's society.



Back in February, our local ABC news affiliate produced this "UNDERCOVER INVESTIGATION" into the items that are sold inside of Spencer's.

Kids Buying Sex Toys???

WOW!! You would think that in these times of child abductions and school shootings and other horrible attacks on the youth of America, parents would want to spend time with their child or at the very least monitor what their child does as opposed to just dropping them off at the mall and expecting someone else to be their baby-sitter. This rant isn't so much in defense of the products that Spencer's sells. We all know what items are available for purchase there. Those same items have been there for damn near 60 years. This rant is more-so against the "do gooders" that seem to feel that it is not their responsibility to monitor what their child does. WHO THE HELL ALLOWS their child to go to the mall alone or even with groups, unsupervised? I cannot count the number of children that I have had to call the police on for shoplifting from my store that were a) under the age of 16, b) with a bunch of their friends, and c) WITHOUT parental supervision!!

If C.U.N.T.S., were so concerned with what their children were being subjected to, wouldn't some level of common sense step in and suggest that MAYBE they should be with their child in these dangerous malls? Interestingly enough, this is the same group that targeted video game stores and Wal-Mart's across the country, for selling adult-rated video games to minors. Once again, if your child has the money to buy a $40 video game, shouldn't you, as a responsible parent know what your child is spending that money on anyway? Why should it be the job of the retailer to raise your child for you?

Here is the story that aired on Good Morning America earlier this week:

Good Morning America.. Do your kids want sex toys?

Ok. So this group of C.U.N.T.S., want the items removed from the sales floor and held behind the counter? For what reason? Because they are uncomfortable with the fact that their little Johnny, at the tender age of 15 already knows more about sex than they knew when they got married? Or that their little Sarah is a cheap whore who has already bedded 3/4 of her high school football team? Instead of spending your time posting YouTube videos about the horrible things that Spencer's has in its stores, why not spend that time checking out your child's MySpace page or sitting down with your child and finding out what's going on in their heads before they become the next crazed school shooter.

Bottom line, they are YOUR kids and should be YOUR responsibility. Stop expecting other people to raise them for you or monitor their behavior.:wallbash: ]]> tnbt23 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=73 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=71 Wed, 20 Feb 2008 05:46:50 GMT The door slammed behind me with great force. I turned around to make sure it had not locked, but the door faded away, into a tall chain link fence,... The door slammed behind me with great force. I turned around to make sure it had not locked, but the door faded away, into a tall chain link fence, covered by morning glories, newly blossomed. Overhead, the sun came in at a high angle, yet not quite noon. The heat evaporated any dew that might have have clung to the green vines, its spade shaped leaves, its lavender, blue, and white flowers.

The fence obscured a two story house that sat on a slight elevated piece of land at the end of a narrow, suburban street. Densely packed cottages converted into two story colonials, as noted by the enclosed porches which stood as evidence of their architectural past, fronted the sides of the block. The house at the end, however, rotted away what remained of its Victorian era heritage. Its eave brackets hung on for dear life, its scalloping had all washed away, its turreted corners seemed rounder than its polygonal nature provided, and its wooden siding had long lost any paint, now clinging to the exterior, silvering over what must have been over a century. Looking upon the house I felt a pit form in my stomach for my heart to fall into; what a sorrowful sight, I thought, such a spectacular, stylish specimen abandoned and neglected by owners long gone, left to fend for itself against the weather.

Down the street, behind me, I could hear a whistling screech, coming near me, then going away, in a back and forth kind of manner. I noticed it, but paid little attention as my eyes stayed transfixed on the near dead house, which gave a gentle gasp of life upon visual inspection. An open double-hung window allowed the breeze to come inside and dance with the faded draped curtains, and screened glimpses of a figure's silhouette moving about the inside of the parlor. The whistling screech behind me seemed to come nearer, prompting me to turn around.

THWACK!

My nose.

I doubled over and clutched my face, as my vision went briefly white. I gathered myself, and focused on the source of the violence. A black and green NERF turbo whistling football waddled near my feet, rolling to a stop. Several yards in front of me, two children stood, no more older than 12. The boy closest to me motioned for the ball, so I bent down and grasped it, but chose instead to show off, and hurl it towards the farthest boy. I launched it high into the sky, as it whistled like a kettle as it gained altitude, and it shook telephone wires that it brushed against in it travel, then fell like a missile to its target and into the boy's hands. He smiled, and in acknowledgment and gratitude, the boy threw the ball back to me in a similar fashion, but it missed the target, and hit the front door of the old house, ricocheted off the outside parlor wall, and as the front door became ajar, it opened and welcomed the rolling oval ball as it waddled inside.

The two boys, almost instinctively, ran towards the lost ball, ran past me, and scaled the high flowered fence, as the morning glories crumpled and collapsed onto the pavement. The boys fell into an unwelcoming yard covered in the dense remains of unkempt brush and dead weeds; the result of years and years of landscaper's contempt. They managed to follow some semblance of a path to the front door, as I stood and watched as my fingers wrapped around the fence where openings in the vines offered a framed view of the scene inside the property. The two boys peered into the door, and slowly crept into the house. My gaze switched back to the parlor window, where I first saw the figure. It was no longer present.

Suddenly, the boy, who I had failed to throw to, burst through the front doorway, stumbling through the brush, and towards the fence, which he scaled like a Marine, yelling "I just wanted the ball!"

"Where is he?" I screamed. "What happened?"
"That old bitch, she grabbed him! That fucking cunt! I'm getting my dad!"

I quickly scaled the high flowered fence, and landed amongst the dense remains of unkempt brush and dead weeds. I managed to find some semblance of a path to the front door, as the other boy ran home. I climbed the seven steps to the top of the porch, and hesitantly, reluctantly, entered the house.

For as colorful as the morning glories had been, the interior of this house was as drab, as gray, as lifeless and lacking vigor.

"Hello!" No answer.

"Where are you?" No answer.

I explored the house. From the front door, I saw a switchback staircase at the end of the hall, with an opening on either side; one to the parlor, and one to the dining room.

"Hello!" No answer.

"Where are you?"

I moved slowly, lacking any knowledge of this house, this neighborhood, this boy, or even why I was doing this. I peered into the parlor, which lacked any furnishings, and then the dining room, which contained a long mahogany table varnished with years of dust, accompanied by a lone upholstered dining room chair, equally dusted. I moved forward to the stairs.

"Are you there?" I yelled as I reached the foot of the stairs.

The oval black and green ball rolled down the steps I could not see, then rolled down the ones before me, waddled near my feet, rolling to a stop. ]]> TheJays http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=71 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=70 Wed, 20 Feb 2008 05:45:53 GMT I found myself in a round room, surrounded by seven doors, each neighbored with a small table with a different flower in a small vase on top. The... I found myself in a round room, surrounded by seven doors, each neighbored with a small table with a different flower in a small vase on top. The walls contained no other indication as to where I was, and neither did the doors, which were numbered 1 through 7. It seemed as though each door would just open into a hotel room, yet there was no ice machine nearby. The floor and room smelled clean, but was probably just vacuumed and sprayed with New Car Scent air freshner, to give it that stench of every commercial building you've ever been to. Along the edge of the ceiling trailed a circle of florescent lights, embedded in the perimeter, dripping soft light onto the light maroon houndstooth wallpaper which covered much of the surface area. The carpet was also red, a Mondrian-esque landscape of cubes, but done in a hideous, warm, and playful way, allowing for one to play a large game of Tic Tac Toe. I sat on the floor quickly coming to realize that I needed to leave this room, and so I would have to choose a door to try to open.

The tables each allowed for a vase with a different flower in each.

Door 1's had a daffodil sitting in its vase.
Door 2's held a Morning Glory vine.
Door 3's held a twig of Wysteria.
Door 4's a Rose.
Door 5's an Easter Lily.
Door 6's held an Orchid.
Door 7's held a Dandelion.

I opened Door 2 first. ]]> TheJays http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=70 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=67 Fri, 01 Feb 2008 20:23:20 GMT Blogging on the board....will it be successful or a receipe for disaster? Oh well....time will tell. just trying this out for size. I guess the next... Blogging on the board....will it be successful or a receipe for disaster?
Oh well....time will tell.

just trying this out for size. I guess the next one will be one worth reading!:tongue: ]]> Justice4all http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=67 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=66 Thu, 31 Jan 2008 05:16:18 GMT Months since i blogged here thought i should try again. Winter is dragging on and Im not doing as good a job with my diet. So I better get back on... Months since i blogged here thought i should try again. Winter is dragging on and Im not doing as good a job with my diet. So I better get back on track ive found it tough to exercise inside in the winter but i gotta. maybe I try tomorrow

Go Giants this Sunday ]]> drjoek http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=66 http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=65 Thu, 31 Jan 2008 01:48:23 GMT A shower of lights seem to swim behind my eyes No one can feel the heat emanating as can I Like a sparkler on the 4th of July The tip burns like a... A shower of lights seem to swim behind my eyes
No one can feel the heat emanating as can I
Like a sparkler on the 4th of July
The tip burns like a molten ember so you can write your name in the sky
As futile as it may seem, though some might think it is just silly drivel
I can feel the movement of the earth beneath my feet spinning on its axis, my head swirls
My eyes lose focus; I cannot speak, muted, silent
The only way to keep my sanity is to lay here in the dark, where the cold can find my eyes
And it can freeze my brain, so that I might see again, hear again, speak... ]]> chubbykins http://www.ronfez.net/forums/blog.php?b=65