22 March 2010

Violence Or Health?

If you choose health, I'ma gonna come at you with good old fashioned KKK style violence.

"Patriots" vandalize Democrat Offices ... In more than one place!

This is a problem. These ignorant, low life hicks have been
twisted and turned
roasted on a putrid spit
made by their own party leaders

They don't recognize their country,
because it never existed
beyond what they were told
during Cowboy Jim and Mikey Moose hours
while eating the wholesome prepackaged foods
now made even easier with micro-waves
and moms who bring home the bacon.
Give me a Fucking break.
you've been had.
By your baseball, and your pie
and your White-washed suburban streets
where you knew the dark people didn't come
except to clean your drain.
Now you wonder...
where did all the people with scarves on their heads come from?
Oh, my those new people that moved in
They ain't speakin' English, and how come Tampax has 'mexican' instructions.
God gamn them all to hell, they are takin over, I swear.

I'm going to show 'em I
will take back MY AmeriKa
with Violence....
it's the american way?

Frightening GOP Behavior

Worse, the rhetoric stirs up an impressionable and volatile portion of the American public. Which is exactly what it is designed to do. It creates an US against THEM mentality that will ensure the faithful stands stalwartly against anything and everything the current administration tries to do.

Shameful. Maniacal.
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost

evil, Interrupted

Evil is like a shadow - it has no real substance of its own, it is simply a lack of light. You cannot cause a shadow to disappear by trying to fight it, stamp on it, by railing against it, or any other form of emotional or physical resistance. In order to cause a shadow to disappear, you must shine light on it. -Shakti Gawain, teacher and author (b. 1948)

21 March 2010

Words: Olla Podrida

olla podrida

PRONUNCIATION: (OL-uh puh-DREE-duh, AWL-yuh, AW-yuh)

1. An incongruous mixture.
2. A spicy stew of seasoned meat, vegetables, chickpeas, etc.

ETYMOLOGY: From Spanish olla podrida (literally, rotten pot), from olla (pot) + feminine of podrido (rotten).

USAGE: "Alice Randall's collection of cookbooks is formidable, an olla podrida of Junior League and soul food cookbooks and classics like The Joy of Cooking."Penelope Green; What Matters Most; The New York Times; Sep 16, 2009.  (from Wordsmith.org )

Racism- Throwback, Pure White Sugar

Man, retro is really where it's at, and that's a fact, Jack.

If you have to say: "it's not because he's black" after you state how much you dislike someone...
It IS because he's black and you are a racist.
You are pointing out the fact that you believe it makes a difference. It's a cop out.
"He's not MY president... and, it's not because he's black, either. I just don't like his pol-u-sees."
You don't like him because he's not lily-white. He could figure out a way to clean up the whole world and personally make you rich, and you would still find him wrong in every way.

Barack Obama isn't the poster child for your Amerika, and it makes your skin crawl.

Me, I'm out. I don't care. But you sure are ugly, Miss American Pie.

20 March 2010

HuffPo Posting Problems

I still haven't figured out how to post comments on other sites to here. For example, HuffPo has the link ability, but I just can't seem to get it to do it.
Anyway, here's the link to the first story I actually commented on as GreatDismal at Huffington Post.

Tomorrow, a vote for health care?
I'm just afraid I'm going to get shot or run over by some likker'd up trailer park teabagger if it goes through.
I hope it does.

The Highwayman

“When the highwayman holds his gun to your head, you turn your valuables over to him. You 'consent' alright, but you do so because you cannot help yourself, because you are compelled by his gun. Are you not compelled to work for an employer? Your need compels you, just as the highwayman’s gun.” ~Alexander Berkman


I was just thinking about making a tag for 'words' since I'm always searching for new ones to expand my palette for the art of writing.
I signed up for a word-a-day in my email inbox about a year ago, and thought I'd scan it for some content.
Lo! One of my favorites, and one I use as a category tag on my main blog Barefoot Heathen was the word of the day.
So it is the first tagged word on DarlaStuff. I'll make it a tag here too, because it's versatile.

PRONUNCIATION: (gal-uh-MAW-free)

Noun: A hodgepodge; a jumble.

ETYMOLOGY: From Middle French galimafree (stew), probably from galer (to make merry) + mafrer (to gorge oneself).

DarlaStuff sentence:  In that top drawer, you'll find a gallimaufry of jewelry I never wear.

Run Away

Run away
to hold onto the sanity
I still possess, deep within my body human.
Run away
from the poisoned gassy stench
of the rotten corpse of civilized society.
Run away
from the vulture's gold-plated beaks
tempered in the congealed bloodflow of their design.
Run away
to find my primitive kin
squeezing out of the quickly closing talons.

Dropping Out


Not at all extreme, and very doable.
It just takes a little planning, is all.


For every change, there is a season.
I have had enough of hoping for society to wake up.
Watching grass roots goodness getting chewed up in the ever-growing machine, year after year, has a way of jading a person.
It's okay. I'm getting more and more comfortable with it as time goes on.
All of those brow-beating lessons that were wrapped around me, as a cast, growing up an american girl have crumbled like the aging plaster that it is.
The destruction has taken far too long, and it is humbling.
It is exhilarating.
I had all these stickers on my car, Latitude Mary, showing my personality, choices...worldview.
Today I spent over an hour taking them all off.
Fuck it, it's just another reason for more doughy, angry, white men to shake their fist at me when they should be driving.
I'm going under. With purpose.
I've had enough of asking, of hoping for a society I was told existed.
The pressure IS building, and change will happen, just not the kind people have been programmed to expect.
The steam is rising, I'm slithering out through the pressure valve before it blows for good, and I get burned.


Vintage Bitch Pictures, Images and Photos

Every single one I can get my hands on.


Vintage Bitch Pictures, Images and Photos

Seriously, nurture this.
...wait, is that little boy holding mama's 'toy'?

3.6 Million Years Ago

the comments on this one are crazy

I swear, I'm dropping out



I was going to put a news story here about the health care vote tomorrow and how "deeply divided" the US public is over it.

Then I stopped. OF COURSE they're deeply divided, it's the way the whole thing is designed. I'm sick to death over death panels and politial peacock strutting. I don't want to make this a trash bin.

Rather, an odd collection.

Notice, I said they... 
I seceded myself last night.
Fuck all the posturing. 

19 March 2010

Scientific American - Is Earth past the tipping point?


Don't Pay Any Mind

...to what's going on here.
It's just a place for me to put the stuff I find and I like so I don't have to save it anywhere else.


further out
I keep traveling ... or being pushed
I don't know which
further out from
the centers of disillusion
and deceit, and dastardly vanity
further out to
my own big bang
dissolving back to natural

16 March 2010

Skinny Dip

Sultry, still swamp air - blanketing her skin
heat opening pores - sweat, nowhere to go.
Forming rivulets - showing where it's been
Before she jumps in - she tests with her toe.

Goodnight Moon

The moonrise for the past three nights
       makes my inner lunatic tremble
for it's beloved
       spilling into the cold swamp night air
thrilling with her reflection
in the shallow black

05 March 2010

The Gamble

There once was a place called America
Where honest hard work would take care of ya
They all got sold out
Lost all of their clout
By gambling their dreams on suburbia

04 March 2010


Apocrine glands
soaking skin
with ethers of passionate anticipation.

Scented soley for attraction
Tasting of evaporated salination...and sex
defines the emissions of a truly sacred source
recognized instantly, yet incognisant

Squeezed juice
of the enteric vine
the only thing truly inherent

02 March 2010


If I slid my energy

into your wet, warm mouth

and caught your tongue

you would spill your secrets

across my glistened aura

like silvered globules of joyous relief
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