Classic Tale Retold

Everyone knows the classic tale

A lovely girl finds the beauty in a beast

But a tale lesser known begets more truth

Not the beauty found in a beast

But the beast hiding beneath the beauty

Perfection flows from her fingertips

Sweet voice lulls you into a vulnerable state

Her eyes ensnare you into her embrace

Blinded by her outward radiance

Unable to see the monster inside

Ache to graze her flawless skin

Selling yourself to her piece by piece

Before you realize her heart is black

She has taken everything from you

This is nothing to her vicious soul

Pleasured by the sight of your suffering

Teasing you with the promise of love

She knows she is incapable but you dont

Think you are trading life for love

Instead you give your life for her laugh

When she tires of you shell throw you back

Where once a proud man stood

A broken, scared lonely boy will lay

She remains unscathed and moves on

Her next victim just around the corner

Knowing hell be as easy as the last

Even though she is a savage beast

Her beauty is a perfect disguise

The saddest part of this tale it seems

No one has a chance to defend

If you know what to do its too late

For you have already felt the wrath of her beauty

Freedom

The freedom of expression
Binds us in our words
Free speech is rampant
Yet our words are censored
Say anything you please
Just make sure its politically correct
Throw out any profanity you want
But don't say "policeman"
That offends the feminists
Degrade your skin with racial slurs
But labeled racist if not that color
In this world of freedom
I can't help but feel trapped

Frilly Men

Tanning Bed Bursts Into Flames With Man Inside
I can't decide which is more disturbing, the fact that a tanning bed caught fire or that there was a man in the tanning bed in the first place. I know that many men do it, but for the life of me, I cannot figure out why. I find it incredibly disturbing that men pamper themselves and put in substantial effort into making themselves "beautiful."

Where have all the manly men gone?

There is nothing wrong with taking care of yourself, and dressing nice to impress the ladies but guys today take it too far. Honestly, guys don't need to tan, wax, pluck, and style for hours on end; why subject yourselves to such things? A guy can throw on a suit and look like a million bucks. It's that easy, why complicate it?

Last Name

I should have probably started my blogging career explaining the name of my blog, but I know that most people that know me will have already figured it out. My first entry I shared with you was about the trials and tribulations of having a drunken and deadly first name, but my last name is another story.

First of all, I have googled myself on numerous occasions. I know that you have all done it, so do not begin to judge me. Everyone I know has done it, and they all have people who claim the same identity. I already had enough identity issues as it was, I must admit that I was a bit nervous the first time I put my name into that little box of answers. To my surprise, and immediate relief(I didn't breathe for a good two minutes, my browser was dreadfully slow), I am the only Amber Kasbon. Obviously, there is nothing unique about my first name (other than beer and dinosaurs) but my last name has brought me great joy. There are not any other Kasbon's, save the six people in my family that now claim the name as their own.

This in and of itself is fantastic, but it is not why I take such simple pleasure in telling people my name. I have an avid imagination so pretending to be a British spy is right up my alley, whenever I meet someone new I give them the classic line: the name's Bon, Kasbon. It makes me laugh out loud just writing it. Who doesn't want to be James Bond? Aside from the casual sex, drinking and intermittent torture sessions, he is fantastic. I am a sucker for accents, class, and stlye, which he has in spades. When I use my introductory line, I like to invision myself as a total kick-butt secret agent and even if no one else can see it, it makes me smile just the same. Besides if no one suspects me as a British secret agent, I suppose I'd be doing a pretty good job if I was one.

What's in a Name?

I've always found my name to be a little on the strange side,
never sure if I fully appreciated it being bestowed upon me. For
years of my youth I was convinced that my parents had named
me after an alcoholic beverage.

I realize that Amber is not an uncommon name, in fact I know
at least three other people who seem to find favor in being named
so. However, I was haunted as a child when I would hear the beer
commercials boasting about the rich "Amber" color that their
product possessed. I was literally nervous to listen to the radio,
or watch television because I knew that inevitably, my name would
be bellowed through the speakers in association with that bewitching
brew.

Another factor in my mounting inner turmoil was that my brothers
were given biblical names, Matthew and Adam. I know it was not the
intention of my parents but it felt like salt in an open wound. Not only
was the bible devoid from my name but I also had the added bonus of
hearing it describe a personal favorite of rowdy drunks everywhere.

As a pseudo adult (I don't like admitting that I am one), I have come to terms with my first name. I know that my parents had no malicious intent when they named me Amber, I must say that the movie Jurassic Park did help to ease my pain and suffering. It was nice to know that amber did not only represent the color of beer but it could also aid in the mass murder of an island full of people by way of overgrown lizards. At least now I have grown into a playful enthusiasm about my name, seeing it makes me smile instead of cower in shame and humiliation.

Next installment I will touch on my last name, it is a less sensitive topic.