I'm Pam Newman.
I am awesome every day & you are too.
Follow my butt on Twitter!
I'm a writer of aricles, poems & songs. Here's some cool stuff I wrote.
Yes, I am very serious about running to be Louisville’s female delegate for Occupy Louisville/Louisville’s 3rd district in the creation of the 99% Declaration this summer.
That being said, I’m not going to turn into some new, demure person because I need people to vote for me in order to participate. That is totally whack, not my style, an if I have to do that sort of shit, I don’t want to be involved.
I have worked my ass off, and will continue to work my ass off with Occupy Louisville to initiate the change that we need, and ensure that people are able to live like people, and that there is no ruling class because that’s stupid and our system serves very few.
I swear a lot. I like to talk about sex on the internet sometimes. I watch porn. I raise my voice in public, get angry, tell people to fuck off, and mean it.
I’m also a Black, bisexual female and don’t give a shit what you think about that.
Occupy is supposed to be the fucking revolution, and if I have to pretend like I don’t get sexual feelings about hot dudes or women, then maybe the people who can’t handle that aren’t ready for a revolution yet.
So, what I’m saying is, my twitter icon is a picture of my ass, and I don’t plan on changing anything in the way I engage the public. I also will not abide people telling me how to engage the public on the internet. I’ve been doing this for years and am very comfortable with my “online persona,” which is basically my IRL persona with animated gifs.
Important: I would never talk about sex, sex acts or the like while specifically representing the occupation, unless it was related to some topical issue. I’ve represented the occupation to the media, and am extremely professional. I don’t even swear when I am talking to TV & radio people.
The idea that anyone can police what I say while I’m up for this not-even-an-office election, is sheer and utter bullshit. I’m going to keep being me, because that’s who is going to represent people at the 99% Declaration caucus, who’s been doing the work I’ve been doing and will be objective and keep shit real when it comes down to it in Philly this summer.
I think all that, watch-what-you-say politics shit, is a part of why we’re all angry in the first place, and it can die in a fire.
I am dedicating myself to not really doing shit for the next 24 hours.
This has been a very stressful week, and not really even because tomorrow is Christmas (because I don’t give a fuck about Christmas, really). The stress has been all Occupy Louisville getting evicted, work and being broke. My friends are stressing out over some fucked up shit, too.
It’s all beer, chocolate covered peanuts and streaming movies from here on out, dudes.
Like, I’ve had it out of a box from the freezer, but I mean like, holy shit goddamn made from butter and cream and cholesterol.
I have also not had chocolate cake or wine in a while.
I feel like last year I ate like a queen whenever I wanted, and now I can barely afford a fucking big mac.
When I read The Hunger Games, I imagined Katniss as somewhere between Asian and Latino. I imagined her mother as an Asian lady and her dad as a Puerto Rican guy.
Because its fun? Given it’s not for everyone. But you can’t ask the question, “Why would anyone want to..” to just about anything.
Why would anyone want to drink to the point where you lose consciousness or even where you’re just simply buzzed and spurt our those secrets about yourself? I see no benefit to this at all.
An argument may be that it relaxed your body so you’re more comfortable with those around you. I can’t say that it’s true in all cases, but I’ll just accept by fiat that it is.
Okay, I agree, BUT it still doesn’t require you to get drunk.
I drink, but never to the point of “drunk.”
You don’t have to like it. Like I don’t have to like going to church and worshipping some faceless god… but it works for others.
My religon does have a face, and it is the face of a latin Pirate named Morigan.