tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795408805445363572012-02-08T15:02:44.329-08:00The rants and writings of one Chambly Noire.Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.comBlogger171100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-57071916144863970042011-08-24T13:35:00.000-07:002011-08-24T13:35:40.185-07:00

from this blog : We’ve all encountered these messages. They’re a sort of “call to action”–someone informs you about an issue and then demands that you make a public display by re-posting the information. I find this annoying. Somehow, if I don’t re-post this information, I feel like I’m doing disservice to my peers or perhaps someone is judging me because my Facebook status hasn’t

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-22792224265602972972011-02-22T15:13:00.000-08:002011-04-27T19:09:19.848-07:00

http://mymomisafob.com/ read it and fall in LOVE!

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-80745160846470467312010-08-09T12:39:00.000-07:002010-08-09T12:39:32.993-07:00

An uroboros is a serpent with its tail in its mouth. Dating back to at least Ancient Egypt, and very popular with medieval alchemists, the uroboros is said to represent eternity.  It also symbolizes both self-sufficiency and self-destruction (depending on which end of the snake one identifies with). I beg to differ. As a writer of memoir, I am an uroboros, chewing on my past to survive the

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-8873000536422760392010-08-09T12:27:00.000-07:002010-08-09T12:46:43.306-07:00

>Memoir is a bitter genre—the realm of writers with business unfinished and words unsaid. >A netherworld, if you will. >Between the spoken, the written, the thought out and willfully forgotten, lies a liminality. >This is where we—I?—dwell. >They say a ghost cannot cross over until the conflict that keeps them here is resolved. >What if the ghost cannot find the conflict? Worse--what if the

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-40287825476350498592010-06-16T19:46:00.000-07:002010-06-16T19:46:18.993-07:00

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-17122419456349711112010-06-08T11:15:00.003-07:002010-06-10T11:28:46.883-07:00

An extensive photo album depicting my mother's childhood and teen years.Ask me anything

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-50244333256337558552010-05-28T13:29:00.001-07:002010-08-09T12:47:54.922-07:00

I would get an oroboros mermaid across my back, with a few differences: 1. Instead of being circular, this oroboros would be shaped like the infinity symbol. 2. Instead of having her tail in her mouth, the mermaid would be cradling it, almost as if she is using it as a pillow. 3. The mermaid will have my face. Its significance: The oroboros is a cyclical symbol of both self-sufficiency and

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-29471238184380448702010-05-27T13:00:00.000-07:002010-05-27T13:00:01.030-07:00

 I get asked "what are you?" all the time. Most people guess some kind of Middle Eastern, East Indian, or Latin. Actually, my father is American and of German descent; my mother is Thai and LEGALLY moved here with my dad when she was 29; she gave birth to me at University Medical Center here in Fresno, CA on March 3, 1986. The reason I am blogging about this: if I were in Arizona, I would (

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0Fresno, CA 93720, USA36.8539053 -119.754185636.5791878 -120.2211046 37.1286228 -119.2872666tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-45120846362884824722010-01-10T22:54:00.000-08:002010-01-10T22:54:20.172-08:00

With over ten years of experience giving "great face,"* Bliss (a skincare company) has brought you the best-selling Poetic Waxing Kit (TM) and the positively exhilarating 'O2MG!' Oxygenating Facial Mask (TM). Now, as a companion product to the Fat Girl Slim (TM) anti-cellulite line, they bring you The Love Handler (TM), which "Wages war on not-so-hard 'core' areas with caffeine, to whittle the

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-34994756779976099112009-11-01T12:12:00.000-08:002010-06-10T11:32:19.249-07:00

The question: "Do you think women should be forced to cover up when breastfeeding in public?" My answer: "NO" My rationale: It's ridiculous how much Americans fear the human body / normal bodily functions / having a conversation with their kids about anything more relevant than Spongebob Squarepants (or whatever it is kids watch nowadays). Face it...nobody's REALLY afraid of their kid

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-34589179392909159392009-10-22T11:07:00.000-07:002009-10-22T11:16:02.781-07:00

Many heterosexual men still expect women to fit their artificially constructed fantasy, as long as it is (as far as the men can tell, at least) authentic. As long as it's easy. They want a woman who is as beautiful as a celebrity without makeup, and as sexually adventurous as a porn character without violating her boundaries. They want a size 2 woman who eats burgers and doesn't diet.

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-28137990936422733832009-10-12T11:04:00.000-07:002009-10-22T10:32:03.399-07:00

Goneril (horrid name by the way): I love you more than life itself; my love even leaves me "speechless," which is ironic in this context. Lear: We in the royal sense bless you and your children, which is also ironic considering that We will curse your womb sterile in act 1, scene 4. Regan: (What she said) x infinity! Lear: We bless you too. Cordelia, tell Us what We want to hear! Lie to Us,

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-80439930802203655362009-09-21T10:35:00.000-07:002009-10-28T13:10:28.665-07:00

Isn't it ironic how "pro-life" / "anti-abortion" platforms show a positive correlation with those of "pro-guns," "pro-capital punishment," "anti-comprehensive-sex-education" and "anti-birth control?" One would think them to be mutually exclusive, but try explaining that to anybody who identifies with the religious right. I dream of guarding Planned Parenthood clinics from protesters with an

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-74152698624145470962009-09-04T10:43:00.000-07:002009-10-01T10:45:26.506-07:00

(Inspired by this)If you think thatgod,a "grand and unquenchable vibrating pulse of existence spanning all spheres and organisms and dimensions for all time everywhere,gives a flying communion wafer over the factthat you enjoy sodomy on Sunday mornings," ...you are a raving narcissistfor whom I will thrust aside my usual nontheistic stateto enable a prayer for hell's existence.

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-64567977452687560722009-06-02T10:53:00.001-07:002009-06-02T10:54:12.066-07:00

So, there's this porn star named Kagney Linn Karter; June 2009's Penthouse Pet. Good looking girl, but with shit for brains and a user of the phrase "fuck my butterfly!"; she has also been known to demand that people lick her "cupcake." Euphemisms are usually stupid, but this kind exceptionally so.Today, I had a Kagney Linn Karter moment. Completely unintentional and not hot whatsoever.Today, my

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-20950729149212332882009-06-02T10:51:00.001-07:002009-10-22T10:30:52.482-07:00

I'm ringing up merchandise for these two middle-aged guys from Iran, when one of them asked me how old I am. "Almost 22." "Oot of cair-i-o-sity, you are mar-ried?" Umm... "No?" "You have boyfriend?" "Yes, I do." "Ai...all the beautiful girls mar-ried or have boyfriend." "Maybe they get snatched up sooner." "That is it. My sons are 3 and 29, and they need to find a wife. Whenever I see a

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279540880544536357.post-47059360103796062652009-05-29T18:16:00.000-07:002009-05-29T18:18:13.803-07:00

The memories are a tattered burgundy bustle dress--spotted with semen, hard with blood, and salty with my mother's false tears.I'd like to wash it, make it pure and clean and whole again, fragrant glossy silk on a naked yearning back.Every time I try, however, the lovely whitish sink water turns into an infinitely open sea. Overtaken by the undertow, I sink and lose the sky.Somehow, though, I

Chambly Noirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03719013816149031829noreply@blogger.com0