Yes, let's see? I forgot, having the very good excuse of having a flaming headache*, to post a Nightly Navel Gazing Report™ for last night, and was it a grand and glorious navel gazing day. Let's see, yesterday? Hmmm, surely there was something to report with regard to my navel, because there sure doesn't seem to be anything new to report about it today. Damn, maybe I need to coax some guy to hit me really hard in the stomach or something just so I could get a big bruise. At least I could blog about it, huh? Navel, innie, surrounded by fine, mostly black hairs, although there is a grey one here and there now**. Such ends this evening's and yesterday's late report.
*And it just refuses to go away!
**Oh, wait, there are not any greys mixed in there, those are all a bit lower.
Yes, I am so full of antihistamines that I feel I am on remote control. I am conscious but yet am seeing everything through a drug induced fog. I am on the verge of slumber and yet my mind will not rest. And the worst part of all is that I hurriedly put on my watch and seem to have caught several of my arm hairs in the band. I don't know how I did that. I don't know why I posted about it. Now what should we read into that?
I had a very interesting afternoon. I have a client who is the alleged executor of her mother's will who is being confronted by several of her siblings regarding some of the property from the estate. A couple of weeks ago, we agreed to allow anyone who wanted to pour through the paperwork to shedule a time to do so at my office. One decided to do so, and traveled a great distance to stand at a counter in my office and paw through a large box of papers while I watched, or sometimes watched. I could hear the conversation between she and her husband and I have some idea about what it is that seems to be at issue: some old coins and a bedroom suite. I sense this immense distrust and hatred between these siblings over some mundane items of stuff.
My client did not even come. Her husband popped in for a bit to leave the papers and came back later to tell us she did not want to come. So, it was they and I and this large box of papers. They spend 2 hours going though it and making stacks of this and that. I do not know how long they traveled to get here from Missouri, but I don't think I could make it to Joplin in less than 8 hours. Another 8 hours going back. The time pouring through that box of papers, all for just a few dollars worth of property. We are not talking about family pictures and documents and such, it was old furniture and old coins.
There was some dispute over who should get something that belonged to my grandaddy when he died that estranged my father from his mother for 25 years. I know how badly my dad felt about that. Later, when his mother finally died, he greatly lamented having lost those 25 years. All of life is a balancing act. Time has real value also, and sometimes the expenditure of time is not worth the financial gain. Sometimes hatred drives us to throw away very valuable time that we can never recover.
They finally collected several documents, about 12 out of about 600 that they thought were important enough to ask me to copy. I did so, making two copies, then clipped the ones I copied and put them among the client's papers. I gave one set of copies to the sibling, and kept the other set for my file.
You never know if your own client is going to argue at some point that you should not have provided their enemy with copies of such papers. I want evidence of what I did actually give away. Attorneys ... CYA ... it is a way of life. But George, don't I use a lot of paper?
Headache is still nagging me, and I am woozy from all the antihistamines running through my system, so I am going to go lay down and see if I can clear my head. I could or could not be back this evening. In fact, since the damn antihistamines will keep me awake all night, there is a good chance I could be here anytime in the wee hours of the morning. I hope not. I need some rest.
OK, here is an interesting story:
Charles Grissom, director of the Paris High School band, said his intentions were true.
The Blue Blazes Band would perform a historically accurate show titled "Visions of World War II" featuring flags and music to represent the combating nations.
It would include a student running across the field with a Nazi flag and the tune composed by Franz Joseph Haydn that later became "Deutschland Uber Alles."
Mr. Grissom didn't anticipate the response his group received while performing at Hillcrest High School on Rosh Hashana, the Jewish new year.
"We were booed," he said Monday. "We had things thrown at us. We were cursed."
Says the Band director:
Mr. Grissom, who is in his first year at Paris High, said an announcement was made over the loudspeakers before the performance, explaining that the school was trying to do a "historical, accurate depiction of the event."
Still, some fans were furious. Paris' assistant coaches were even targeted as they made their way through the bleachers to a press box after halftime.
"The assistant coaches ... got blasted, cursed," said Brent Southworth, Paris' head football coach. "It was undeserved from our perspective. We didn't know anything about it."
Mr. Grissom said he has learned his lesson. Henceforth, the band's show likely will include only the American flag, though all the music will remain.
"Our intent was never to cause any harm," Mr. Grissom said.
"The kids and myself, we caused a reaction, and we certainly didn't mean to. We'll use it as a learning situation."
The full story is on the Dallas Morning News site, but you will have to register to see it. To me, it is just another episode in PC overload. I mean, it happened folks. Do we just forget the evil in the world?
The show also includes the flags and music of France, Britain, Japan and the United States. The flags were raised in intervals that corresponded with the music of the nations. Mr. Grissom said the Nazi flag was waved twice – for about seven seconds each time – and the French and British flags were waved twice each for about the same amount of time. [emphasis supplied]
There was no reported reaction to displaying the Japanese flag. Is it just that the horrific memories of the Nazi regime are too intense for people to put in their proper perspective, or is it time that we just erased all reference to Nazis, Nazi Germany, Adolph Hitler, millions of Jews and others who were killed from history? I wish we could, but it happened and we should not take offense at every mention of such, especially when offense is not intended.
Nope, I think the uproar was a grand show of ignorance by those who were offended by such. Heck, it was a bunch of High School Band members.
Well, well, it seems that after zillions of entries in picture captioning contests, I finally came across the finish line in 3rd place in one on Kevin's site [WizBang!]. Of course, just as last week, I have again forgotten to submit anything for this week's Bonfire. And here I thought this one was one that definitely deserved to tossed upon the pile. What do you think?
IN TOTALLY OTHER NEWS: The headache still has not been completely suppressed despite my continued shock and awe bombarding with mega-doses of high-powered analgesics. Commitment to this effort is a high priority and I am totally convinced that I will prevail.
Well, I met with Tony S this evening. He was in Dallas for some classes, so we had set up to go eat dinner tonight, had a good meal and few beers. We had a good conversation, became friends, and surely at sometime, Tony, who did not forget to bring his camera (but guess who did), will be posting a picture on his blog of us clinking glasses soon. He was going to try to find an internet connection at his hotel, but I guess he could not find a connection, or was just tired by the time he got back. I had a great time, and too bad I came down with a headache toward the end so I had to head off early.
Do you know how hard it is to drive 90 minutes with a pounding headache. George, I could not wait to get home. I have a hot bath awaiting me, so I am off to see if I can get some relief. I hope to see you all sometime tomorrow, because if I can get this pain to subside, I am going straight to bed.
My horrorscope for today:
A chance to make your mark today seems apparent. There are perils in getting things accomplished. Today's challenges center on relationships, especially yours with authority figures.
It looks like I might come out on the losing end of a head knocking confrontation with a judge today. I did not even see I was supposed to be in court today.
Buxom women with armloads of brewskis: it must be time for Oktoberfest.* The best one I ever attended was in Grafenwoehr in 1975. Of course, I suspect I could find a great facsimile if I was up for another trip to Fredericksburg!
*Anyone up for a litlle Chicken Dance?
I awoke this morning with some horrible heartburn and did not have any anti-acids in the house, so I decided to get up, throw on something and walk to the store. I do not know if I have told you that I live right across from our local Jr. High School, but I saw youngsters being droped off as I left for my short walk and when I looked at my watch, it was about 6:30 am. Now, not having any children, I guess I am not all that familar with what happens in school anymore, but I was pretty sure school does not start until 8:00 or so, as I see the school buses come by about 7:30 or so every morning. I am not usually up this early, so I was wondering why so many people were being dropped off so early.
As I was walking, the only thing I could think of was that some people must have to go to work early, so were dropping off their kids on their way to work, and I was thinking how horrible it was to have to sit outside for an hour or so just because your mother or father had nowhere else to leave you. However, when I was on the way back, I saw everyone was in their gym clothes and the coach was there, and just as I turned the corner to come home, they started running around the block. I guess that instead of staying late in school to practice or whatever, they come early. So, instead of it being horrible to the kids to be dropped off that early, I started feeling sorry for the parents for having to be dragged out of the house so early to have to drop their kids off.
Isn't it funny how things look differently from different perspectives? It is like I tell juries, there are always two sides to every story. In this case, I just had to wait for all the evidence to come out to solve this mystery. Now I know why my dogs start barking early every morning, because every time the girls run by on their loop around the school, my weeniewolf, Duke, lets them know to stay on their side of the street.
Well, at least I got some anti-acids. Too bad I am awake now, because I am sure that the two hours of sleep I lost are going to affect me sometime later. Of course, it gives me a couple of hours to check what everyone else has posted this morning, huh? See, there is always a silver-lining in the cloud, if you just look hard enough.
Kelley has again outdone herself in presenting this week's Cul-de-Sac. You think I jest? Just go have a look-see for yourself.
Yes, folks, we have gotten a picture of Zane's belly button. His mother, Denita of Who Tends the Fires fame was able to get the little guy to be still long enough to catch a shot of it:
Now, tell me how cute is that? In other navel news, I made a claim on Tony's blog that I possessed the property rights to 7 of 9's body so he challenged me to prove such by displaying a picture of her navel. That was not as easy as it seems, as despite the numerous pictures available of Jeri Ryan, she seldom displays her navel. There might be a reason why:
I would hazard to guess that such is not her best feature, and I suppose such does not matter if you have such a nice looking posterior, such beautiful breasts, and such juicy and pouty lips. Now if I could just get her to wear that Borg implant over her left eye. George, was she ever sensuous with that lovely hunk of metal and silicon place just ever so perfectly.
Now, with such report so eloquently given, I suppose I can now drift off to sleep with a clear conscience.
Yes, folks, so far it has been a great day in the NFL for the Texas teams, and even the former Texas teams. Of course, my own favorite, America's Team: The Dallas Cowboys showed that Tuna may know what he is talking about as Quincy Carter was connecting with his receivers on a regular basis and Troy Hambrick is learning what a starting running back is supposed to do. The defense was able to work all the way through this game, and held the Jets to 6 points, but then, the Jets haven't really figured out how to carry or pass the ball into the end zone yet this season.
Then the new boy on the block, those pesky Houston Texans prevailed on the final play of the game, when instead of kicking the field goal and going to OT, their coach chose to go for the win and was successful. I kind of liked what Deion Sanders said about it. "It isn't like they are going to the playoffs, anyway."
Now, one of the former Texas teams: Dallas first NFL franchise, now playing in Indianapolis, will be playing the night game against the Saints. I like the Saints, so I am kind of not really caring who wins this one. However, if the Colts lose, they will be the one team with Texas connections that lost today.
Yes, Dallas' former AFL franchise, and the original Texans, the team now known as the Kansas City Chiefs prevailed over the Baltimore Ravens, and the former Houston team, once known as the Oilers and now known as the Tennessee Titans easily dispatched the Pittsburg Steelers.
The scores, you say, as you had bets on the over/unders on these game?
Dallas 17 - NY Jets 6
Houston 24 - Jacksonville 20
KC 17 - Baltimore 10
Titans 30 - Steelers 13
Oh? My mistake; I thought someone was here. ;)
I was just sitting here staring at the monitor and pulling hairs out of my nose*, and thought, hey, maybe it is time to go to bed. I have zoo duty in the morning, so if I do decide to post anything, it might be later in the day before anything new comes up. Of course, however, you never know. Cherry could sneak in and post something. ;)
*Hey, if it sounds disgusting, try doing it. Not only is it fairly disgusting to do, it really does not feel all that great either, but then if you don't do it, they tickle the crap** out of your nose and make you sneeze alot.
**For some reason, crap sounds so much nicer than shit, doesn't it?
What could I possible say about my navel that has not already been said before. I did find a picture of some gal with a nice body and a great looking navel that I started to put up for everyone to see, but changed my mind. I think I will keep this one all to myself. If you want to see a picture of a pretty girl with a good looking navel, have fun with your search. ;) Whatever you do, do not read the post right below this one. I just put it there to fill space and there really isn't anything more to see, OK? Well, I decided to take a damn look at that navel just to see if there was anything to report, and I see that it looks like that Ninja Spider Mite™ has come back to haunt me, as I see I got some kind of bite just at the top/left area of my navel. Damn Ninja Spider Mite™.
Oh, even though it really doesn't have anything to do with my navel, I picked up a hitchhiker today.
I drove for about 3 hours to go see my brother, his new wife, his baby (my neice MeKayla) and my step-nephew Aaron for a couple of hours, and on the way back, saw this young man standing on the side of the road. He had a t-shirt on with the sleeves torn off and a pretty tight pair of pants on, so I figured he likely didn't have any kind of weapon on him of any size I could not have defended myself from, so stopped and gave him a ride. It turned out that he had had a flat and had been trying to get a ride to a town about 30 miles on up the road so as to let his mother know. I would chide him for not having had a cell phone, but then I don't carry one anymore. I am still fighting with Cingular. [I am not going to explain it right now, search for Cingular if you are interested in that ordeal.] Anyway, I just have not seen a hitchhiker in a long, long time. I was actually delighted to give the kid a lift. It wasn't like I really had anything important to do. He said he had been trying to get a ride for over 30 minutes. I guess no one stops for people anymore.
I don't pick up the mail, I don't pick up the phone
I don't answer the door, I'd as soon be alone
I don't keep this place up, I just keep the lights down
I don't live in these rooms, I just rattle around
I'm just a ghost in this house
I'm just a shadow upon these walls
As quietly as a mouse I haunt these halls
Those lines are the opening lyrics of a song called I'm Just a Ghost in this House authored by Hugh Prestwood and recorded by several artists. These few lines sum up how I feel about my life at this point.
It is kind of like I am just dog paddling until my body gives up. I often wonder if I am depressed without reason, but I actually have plenty of reasons to feel this way about my life. Although I am fairly financially stable and in fairly good health, have plenty of friends and plenty of activities to do, I really find very little enjoyment out of hardly anything for very long.
Let's see, where do I start? OK, I am 48, and yet, according to Acidman, I look older than he does at 55, and what is really bad is that I agree with him. I do look older than most people at my age. I have more white in my facial hair than most at my age, I have been gray at the temples since I was in my 30s, I am balding on top rapidly, and yet, I really don't care. My teeth have decided to rotten out over the last six or so months. I was widowed more than nine years ago, am childless and then lost both of my parents over the last few years. I jumped up and moved to a new town, and although I find I have more to do and am a bigger part of the community than anywhere else I have ever lived, I do not find such as satisfying as I thought I would.
I sometimes think about just giving up, but how do you do that? I mean, I don't want to die, as there is always a chance that things will change and I will find some fun in life again. But then I am so tired of just surviving without any purpose in my life. The stress is sometimes very overbearing.
I have thought about seeing a doctor, but then I would be saying something is wrong with me for feeling this way, and I don't think there is anything wrong with me for feeling this way. In fact, I think I am feeling exactly like any normal person would feel who has lived through the kind of life I have had so far. I don't want some drugs to suppress my feelings. If I wanted to suppress my feelings, I am sure I could drown my troubles like most people do, just staying half-conscious by drinking lots of alcoholic beverages. No, I will continue to tread though this existence, but I will still mostly just be a ghost in this house. I am here but no one sees me.
Well, the notCrawford ***s prevailed in last night's game, but it appears to have been a pretty sloppy affair. But then again, it is high school football, and aren't most high school football games pretty sloppy affairs? Congratulations, ***s! Go, ***s, Go!
I would have personally attended the game, but I have this thing about driving more than an hour to attend a high school football game.
IN TOTALLY OTHER NEWS: Blogging could or could not be very light today and tomorrow. I have yet to decide if I am going to stay home and sit in front of the computer all day or if I am going to go out in the world and smell some flowers or something.
I got my American Legion magazine today, and there was some pretty funny stuff on the back page. One cartoon shows a turtle coming into work finding all the rest of the turtles without their shells, and the caption was:
Didn't anyone tell you about Casual Friday, Johnson?
But of course, the best joke was the last one:
A man comes home from an exhausting day at work, plops down on the couch in front of the TV and yells to his wife, "Bring me a beer before it starts."
The wife sighs, and brings him a beer.
Fifteen minutes later the man bellows, "Get me another beer before it starts."
The wife huffs, but brings him another beer and slams it down on the table next to him.
The man chugs that beer, and in just a few more minutes yells, "Quick, get me one more beer. It's going to start any minute."
The wife, now furious, just yells back, "Is that all you're gonna do tonight, just sit around and drink beer in front of that damn TV? You're nothing but a lazy, drunken, fat slob. Furthermore ..."
The man sighs and rolls his eyes and says to himself, "Now, it's started."
OK, wow is my navel ever impressed at my fame and fortune. It seems that I am now the International Atomic Energy Agency. I am serious. I do not know how I became the International Atomic Energy Agency, but I am. Just look at this:
Still don't believe me? See for yourself which page someone entered my site on and which one they left it on: http://www.iaea.org/. Take it from me, ladies and gentlemen, this night my navel is radioactive. It is so hot, it sizzles. Now don't you just wish you could be here? Or would it be better if I just went away? Where ever I go, do you think my navel will be glowing in the dark?
If you actually came here hoping to see some more pictures of that cute baby pictured in yesterday's report, I suggest you try here. With such inanity, I conclude tonight's report. ;)
OK, I haven't gone through my site meter referrals as much as I once did, but for some reason thought I would take a gander to see who those faithful readers were than do seem to visit me on a regular basis. I came across this search done on Yahoo:
divorce AND pornography AND addiction AND visitation
Now it didn't really surprise me that I came up in the returns for such search, as the return was to one of my category archive pages, so it was likely all of those terms were in one post or another in that category. I actually did not even come up that high, being number 53. So what is the imponderable mystery, you ask? I am just always wondering what sort of person checks past the first three pages of returns on any search. But then again, maybe I am the only person in the world who believes anything past number 20 is probably really not worth even checking out anyway.
Actually forget the songs and the wine and let me just diatribe a bit about women. I just made a run to my favorite hangout, the convenience store owned my friend, John Parker, just up the street from my abode.* The moment I walked in, I saw what had to be the most perfect human female I have ever seen. She was somewhere between 17 and 21, it being so hard to tell anymore, and had a body that made my tongue literally hang out of my mouth, and then had a face that was about as perfect as any I had ever seen. Her eyes were radiant and sparkly, as was her personality, and she had these pouty lips and cute little button ears and what was about the most exquisite bobbed nose that I had ever seen. Yes, for some reason it was not her pert perky little derriere that I found to be attractive, it was not the way her perfectly rounded breasts pushed hard against the pink spangled top she was wearing, but it was her nose. Oh, my eyes took it all in, and my brain told me that I was born much too early in life. I did wish that her top had been one of those bare midriff sorts that would have allowed me a gander at her navel, but alas, some things will have to be left to imagination. I saw no piercings in her nose, lip or tongue, and expect since the navel was not exposed, nothing pierced its beauty as well. She left and I just wondered who she was and where her life would take her. In a perfect world, she would have been the mother of my children.
Alas, however, the world is not perfect. In fact, the world has gotten quite bizarre, especially when it comes to young women. Here we were, three middle-aged men sitting around a convenience store, all of us admiring this beautiful feminine creation. Then another one comes in, and one of the people knows her from way back. She says hi to him and tells him that her child has just turned two and is doing well. Ron, the clerk that was familiar with her, says that she was a nasty girl even when she was young and he was quite sure she would end up pregnant sooner or later, and she did. I am thinking this girl was about 16 or 17.
Where was the daddy of her baby? In the pen, most likely. That seems to be the general rule of thumb for young women of this day and age in our community in their choice of men. They seem to all crave to have sex with the guys that are trouble: the ones that get into fights, the ones that use drugs, and the ones that have tattoos all over their bodies. Every gal wants to be a gangster moll, I guess. Of course, most of them turn out being single mothers of children whose fathers have disappeared or ended up in the big house for an extended stay. As I said, the world is getting bizarre, or at least it has gotten so in my little corner of the world.
*I have always dreamed of having an adobe abode. Now how cool is that?
Everyone is blogging about it being Jewish New Years and I didn't see any news stories about there being a single celebration featuring fireworks, paper lanterns or dragons. Maybe modern Jews don't do that anymore.
Someone thought there were some fireworks set off in celebration of the event in Israel today, but it turned out to be just some Hamas guy who accidentally blew himself up when he stopped to take a dump behind a building.
Everone ages, everyone sags, everyone has hair or unsightly blemishes or what-have-you. And honey, everybody's breath stinks in the morning. - Kelley
Yes, sadly George Plimpton has departed this life. However, his game film still survives.*
And I need to thank Sean Hackbarth for letting me know, but I heard through the grapevine that Kevin told him.
*Well, actually the game film is mostly of his stunt double, Alan Alda.
Too cool, a TV star and a blogger! And her tips for blogging are pretty much on point. Well, except for this one:
Use a Website that will host your blog for FREE. A great site to check out is Blogger.com.
Those who have gone that route found it really ain't that great a place to start your blogging! Unless you are James.
Uh, thanks to Jay for starting me on the journey.
You know, sometimes you think how much better your life would be if you could just afford everything you needed in life. Some people make do with exactly what they have.
It seems that Jennifer has tracked down the origin of "Don't give a damn." Now, is the real explanation really worth a plug nickel?
I might 'a missed it 'cept that SilverBlue pointed it out.
Well, I went through another extreme bout with insomnia last night and was up at 3:00 just quaking, letting a hot bath run, and looking in the mirror trying to figure out why I could not fall asleep when it hit me. I went all day drinking what? 160 ounces of Dr. Pepper. Other than my usual mass quantities of a highly caffeinated soft drink, I otherwise consumed one Arby's over-priced roast beef sandwich and small curly fries. I think I now know why I have been plagued with bouts of insomnia. The quaking gave it away. ;)
Well, guess what? My navel is still there. The belly seems to be a bit smaller than last time I looked, however. And, it is so hot here, and what with me trying to save on the enormous electric bills by refusing to run the A/C, the whole apparatus is sticky with sweat. I have not seen that pesky Ninja Spider Mite™ lately, and I am thinking he might have gotten eaten by the plague of crickets that appeared three nights ago and then mysteriously disappeared last night. I forgot to eat again this evening, so no crumbs to mention. I was trying to get a shot of a cute navel to share with everyone, but this fellow was not acting like he was all that much interested in giving it up for a cheap thrill:
And such concludes tonight's report. And here you thought it would never end.
I was gonna pick a different joke for today, but Cherry beat me to it. She has the inside track as it is her father that sends me the joke list off of which I get the Friday Funny™. Now this one is a bit old, but maybe some of you haven't heard it, and maybe a few of ya will have forgotten you have:
A couple drove several miles down a country road, not saying a word. An earlier discussion had led to an argument, and neither wanted to concede their position.As they passed a barnyard of mules, the wife sarcastically asked, "Relatives of yours?"
"Yep," the husband replied, "In-laws."
on one or two of his supposed sexual myths. I do think #3 hit a nail right on the head, #4 is not far off, #2 is wholly dependent on the number of extra pounds, and #1 is way off. There has not been a gal born yet who matches the horniness of the average male ... strike that, I have known a nymphomaniac who could do the entire NFL and still be wanting some, but on average, nope, guys want it much more than gals. If they didn't, then there would not be this cottage industry of topless bars, pornography, and prostitutes.
attribution: Lynn S
Kelley dispenses a bit of serious relationship advice with which I whole-heartedly agree. As she is a female and I am a male, both in agreement with the same advice, that means the advice much have hit the BULLSEYE.
Yes, for those of you who have a big appetite, it is time to head for Dallas. Yes, you guessed it, it is time again for the State Fair for the Great State of Texas.*
Of course, I do not get all that excited about it as I did when I was a small fry, but still I do like to go see who won the Blue Ribbon for pickles, chow chow, and quilting as well as checking out who has the fattest pig or narliest looking llama. I don't remember them having llamas at the State Fair when I was a small fry, but then again, I didn't pay half as much attention to the livestock in those days, as I was always eager to go spend my quarters on the Midway. You can't use money on the Midway anymore for the rides, but they will still let you throw dimes at plates. Most everything else requires you to go to a booth and buy tickets. I think I still have some tickets from last year, but what do you wanna bet they will not be worth anything at this year's Fair. I was never a big enough chump to toss dimes at plates, though. Of course, I guess the guy who comes around and picks up all the dimes that land on the floor is probably a bigger chump. I promise you there would never be enough dimes on the floor to take to the bankfor me expend all the energy necessary to be bending over picking them up and then putting in those stupid rollers. Now, quarters ... that is an entirely different story.
It seems that Lisa Marie Presley is gonna be singing, or somethin', at the Fair this year: Fri. Oct. 3 - Lisa Marie Presley 8:30 p.m. - Chevrolet Main Stage. Wow, she got the big stage and got her picture on the index page of the State Fair site, so I guess she is this year's headliner. I don't think I ever heard her sing, so not sure what to expect and don't want to be disappointed. I think I would rather catch: Sun. Oct. 12 - Creedence Clearwater Revisted 3:30 p.m.
Of course, if I do go, and I may or may not, as I have already said I am not quite as excited about the event as I once was, I will likely go see all the new car models. The Fair opens tomorrow and goes through October 19th. Of course, let me give you one piece of advice, don't go on the 19th. Seriously, going to the Fair on the last day is like the pits, 'cause most of the stuff has been packed up and carted off. Oh, and lastly, all ya'll Yankees are invited to come sample the tastes of our State Fair!
*Hey, if'n ya ain't gonna be visitin' my blog all that much, ya might as well find somethin' worthwhile to do with your time, huh?
Serenity is finding things in Texas are not the same as in Seattle. It seems some squirrel gave her a piece of his mind. Of course, Texas squirrels do get a mite cantankerous when you step on their nuts. If ya come to Texas, please do start minding where ya plant your feet! ;)
*and people from Seattle.
I know what an Instalanche is, but what do you call it when no one is linking to you and no one is visiting? I have gotten 20 visitors so far today, and if I get just 3 more, Bill Gates will send me a crock pot or something, or at least that is what that email I forwarded to 100 of my friends said. [As if!]
My mind is totally blank. Now what was it I was supposed to think of when I had totally cleared my mind?
[UPDATE: Did this just totally go over everyone's head? Think about it: Someone says clear your mind and then think about something, right? So if you clear your mind, how would you remember what it was that you were supposed to think about? Uh, still don't get it? OK, try this, erase everything on your hard drive and then search for any file that use to be there. ;) ]
Appeals court frees Nigerian mother sentenced to death by stoning for adultery. [full story]Posted by notGeorge at 10:22 AM | Comments (0)
You know how everyone always says you should never do business with SPAMMERS? I am supposing that if I abide by that belief, I can no longer visit one of my favorite cities:
It's a well-established fact that the way to prevent corruption is to have Mexico control it. - James OTB
Owen pointed to this CNN story about an electronic marvel: e-paper. Of course, they displayed a person actually using the invention and he was squinting. Either it is going to be a bit difficult to read from the e-paper or the person in the photo needs to see an optometrist.
I wonder what Tony S has to say on this subject?
Oh, another blurb by Owen led me to this story: Australia foils trouser snake smuggler. I will be sure to declare mine if I should ever travel to Australia.
You know, I keep looking around and one of the things that really bothers me about what I see around us is the damn amount of different choices I see. I mean, do we really need all that many choices: You not only have M&Ms and Peanut M&Ms and PeanutButter M&Ms but you have M&M minis. I just saw a commercial for Vanilla Pepsi to compete with Vanilla Coke, which was really nothing to write home about anyway. Hey, if I am really craving a shot of vanilla in my Coke or my Pepsi, I guess I need to get me one or the other, huh? Or I could just go get me a bottle of Vanilla and put a drop or two in my damn Coke or Pepsi.
Go down the toilet paper aisle at the local supermarket and count the number of different brands of toilet paper for sale, or the number of brands of paper towels, or go see how many varieties of Friskies canned catfood. I like variety, but not just brand name choices. Really, is there really all that much difference between one laundry detergent and another? Does Chlorox Bleach have more chlorine than the cheap stuff you get at the dollar store? Is Charmin really all that much softer than the stuff made out of recycled paper? I am telling you right now that anything is better than what we were left to use in my old great-grandmother's outhouse when I was a kid. That wasn't soft, but it worked.
OK, talk about too many choices, how about this: You encounter a psychotic movie killer. Would you rather be hacked to death with an ax, a chainsaw or a scythe?
Wow, I just noticed that during the time I was on the road this past Friday evenin', Acidman said I looked old. I guess I will go lie down and cry now! [AS IF!]
*Hey, sometimes I just cannot think of much more than nonsense, you know?
Ah, the pleasures of dialup. It seemed that every time I got ready to post something last night, my connection would lock up, the dialer would freeze and I would have to reboot. It was somewhat infuriating. Uh, strike that somewhat, because it was damn infuriating. Of course, actually, that might have just been the way things were meant to be in my life at the moment.
I awoke this morning with a charley horse in my right calf. I expect this is a symptom of my letting my body's potassium level drop too low, because I practically forgot to eat yesterday. Oh, I had a couple of tostadas at lunch, and right about 9:00 I scarfed down a meat&bread soy burger that my friend at the local convenience store had left over from unsold foods prepared for lunch. I guess I should have had a banana instead.
Well, enough fun reporting the crap that goes on in my mundane life, as I seem to be late with my date for another day's drudgery in the paper pile that is my profession. Hasta luego, amigos y amigas!
I actually got one that was offering me my choice of a free Big Mac or a free Double Whopper, all I had to do was choose. I passed as, even free, neither are really my cup of tea. Now if they had been offering a free Wendy's Texas Double Cheeseburger with a Biggie Fry and a Frostie, I would have hopped right on a free meal offer. ;)
Yes, Eric snapped a shot of me holding a baby, now everyone will know I love babies. Too bad I look so much like a damn granddad in that picture, when I am still trying hard to actually become a first time father* before I get too old to be able to actually hold a baby and not drop them.
*Lovely mother for future children sought. Interested parties inquire within.
Well, those of you who may have come around after yesterday afternoon may have found that the site was fragged awfully bad. I was totally unable to log in to my console. I worked with Tony for over an hour trying to backdoor in, but nothing seemed to work. I finally decided that something must have changed serverside so contacted my hosting service. Here is their first response:
Hi Terry (***),
The server your site is on was upgraded earlier today to much stronger hardware and a newer operating system. I believe I have fixed the problem with your blog software, but its difficult for me to tell, as I do not have access to the administrative tools of Movable-Type. Please test your site again and let me know if everything is working.Regards,
Tim
Of course, I immediately did that, and nope, still fragged. I told Tim that I was still unable to login and that I noticed the comments were not working on the site, etc. Tim requested my MT login info so he could experiment from that end.
I provided Cherry my login info over IM checking if the login problem was restricted to my computer, way earlier in the evening. I see she slipped in during the night and posted a Nightly Navel Gazing Report™. Too bad she didn't provide a picture. ;)
Well, we are live again thanks to the efforts of Tim, Tony and Cherry:
Hi ***,
I did some research on Movable Type's website and I updated the databases that your blog uses. I was able to login and poke around a bit with your username and password. I didn't make any kind of changes to the blog itself or the setup. I believe the problem is now fixed, but I'll need you to test things out a bit and make sure all the utilities work as well.Regards,
Tim
Your navel report tonight comes from a little city in central New Zealand.
Unfortunately our good friend Tiger is unable to access this site. (And I am.) Muwahahahahahah!!!!!! lol
Hopefully, Tig's navel has not come under any recent attacks from spiders, petroleum jelly, or cheetos. As I type, it should be lightly rising and falling as he sleeps peacefully through the night. Blissfully unaware that I am here...
My own navel appears to be alright, although I haven't checked it recently. I would post a picture for you all, but unfortunately, I don't have time to get the digital camera out. ;)
Dadd just came and asked me why on earth I am doing a navel report. lol
An airline's passenger cabin was being served by an obviously gay flight attendant, who seemed to put everyone into a good mood as he served them food and drinks. As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing down the aisle and announced to the passengers, "Captain Marvey has asked me to announce that he'll be landing the big scary plane shortly, lovely people, so if you could just put up your trays that would be super."On his trip back up the aisle, he noticed that a well-dressed rather exotic looking woman hadn't moved a muscle. "Perhaps you didn't hear me over those big brute engines. I asked you to raise your trazy-poo so the main man can pitty-pat us on the ground."
She calmly turned her head and said, "In my country, I am called a Princess. I take orders from no one."
To which the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat, "Well, sweet-cheeks, in my country, I'm called a Queen, so I outrank you. Tray-up bitch!"
See, I tried to warn ya! ;) Uh, if ya didn't really like that one, try the one in the extended entry:
The Italian says,"When I've a finished a makina da love withah my wife, I go down and gently tickle the back of her knees, she floats 6 inches above a da bed in ecstacy."The Frenchman replies,"Zat is noting, when ah've finished making ze love with ze wife, Ah kiss all ze way down her body and zen Ah lick za soles of her feet wiz mah tongue and she floats 12 inches above ze bed in pure ecstasy."
The Redneck says, "That aint nothing buddy. When I've finished porkin the ole lady, I git out of bed, walk over to the winder and wipe my weener on the curtains. She hits the freakin' ceiling.
What? Didn't like that? What about this?
THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:Indubitably Innovative Preliminary Proliferation Cinnamon THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:Specificity British Constitution Passive-aggressive disorder Loquacious Transubstantiate Thanks, but I don't want to have sex Nope, no more booze for me Sorry, but you're not really my type Good evening officer, isn't it lovely out tonight Oh, I just couldn't. No one wants to hear me sing
Note: Due to the complexity and difficulty level of their contents, each course will accept a maximum of 8 participants each.TOPIC 1 - HOW TO FILL UP THE ICE CUBE TRAYS. - Step by Step, with slide presentation. TOPIC 2 - THE TOILET PAPER ROLL: DO THEY GROW ON THE HOLDERS? - Roundtable discussion. TOPIC 3 - IS IT POSSIBLE TO URINATE USING THE TECHNIQUE OF LIFTING THE SEAT UP AND AVOIDING THE FLOOR/WALLS AND NEARBY BATHTUB? - Group practice. TOPIC 4 - FUNDAMENTAL DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THE LAUNDRY HAMPER AND THE FLOOR. - Pictures and explanatory graphics. TOPIC 5 - THE AFTER-DINNER DISHES AND SILVERWARE: CAN THEY LEVITATE AND FLY INTO THE KITCHEN SINK? - Examples on video. TOPIC 6 - LOSS OF IDENTITY: LOSING THE REMOTE TO YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER. - Helpline support and support groups. TOPIC 7 - LEARNING HOW TO FIND THINGS, STARTING WITH LOOKING IN THE RIGHT PLACE INSTEAD OF TURNING THE HOUSE UPSIDE DOWN WHILE SCREAMING. - Open forum. TOPIC 8 - HEALTH WATCH: BRINGING HER FLOWERS IS NOT HARMFUL TO YOUR HEALTH. - Graphics and audio tape presentation. TOPIC 9: REAL MEN ASK FOR DIRECTIONS WHEN LOST. - Real-life testimonials. TOPIC 10 - IS IT GENETICALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO SIT QUIETLY AS SHE PARALLEL PARKS? - Driving simulation. TOPIC 11 - LEARNING TO LIVE: BASIC DIFFERENCES BETWEEN MOTHER AND WIFE. - On-line class and role playing. TOPIC 12 - HOW TO BE THE IDEAL SHOPPING COMPANION. - Relaxation exercises, meditation and breathing techniques. TOPIC 13 - HOW TO FIGHT CEREBRAL ATROPHY: REMEMBERING BIRTHDAYS, ANNIVERSARIES, OTHER IMPORTANT DATES AND CALLING WHEN YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE. - Cerebral shock therapy sessions and full lobotomies offered. Upon completion of the class, Diplomas will be awarded to the survivors.
*Helen Gurley Brown University
I just got this in my email* from a friend, and I am pretty sure it is just a joke, as I found to to be very funny
Dear Ma and Pa:I am well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minchby a mile. Tell them to join up quick before maybe all of the places are filled. I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m., but am getting so I like to sleep late.
Tell Walt and Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically nothing. Men got to shave but it is not so bad, there's warm water.
Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie and other regular food. But tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit between two city boys that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you till noon, when you get fed again. It's no wonder these city boys can't walk much.
We go on "route" marches, which the Platoon Sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it is not my place to tell him different.
A "route march" is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks. The country is nice, but awful flat. The Sergeant is like a schoolteacher. He nags some.
The Capt. is like the school board. Majors and Colonels just ride around and frown. They don't bother you none.
This next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don't know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk head and don't move. And it ain't shooting at you, like the Higgett boys at home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don't even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes. Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real easy. It ain't like fighting with that ole bull at home. I'm about the best they got in this except for that Tug Jordan from over in SilverLake. He joined up the same time as me. But I'm only 5'6" and 130 pounds and he's 6'8" and weighs near 300 pounds dry.
Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding in.
Your loving daughter,
Gail
*I just got an email barrage from this friend and from my Aunt, so no telling how many more posts of these types you will see today! ;)
Woah, right there, Bud! Stop your bitchin' and go over to Kelley's place and check out all the bloggy goodness in this week's Cul-de-Sac.
I am tired and not gonna worry about anything until tomorrow, if I decide it* is worth worrying about tomorrow.
*Whatever it may be or may turn out to be tomorrow.
According to this story, Saddam is negotiating his surrender. Jed suggests we should indeed treat Saddam with kid gloves, like his kid Uday on one hand and his kid Qusay on the other.
Wow, who led me to this site which talks of NASA sending the Voyager spacecraft into the atmosphere of Jupiter? According to the author, doing such might cause a nuclear reaction that would destroy life on our planet. You know, man doing stuff resulting in unknown reactions has not really been all that much of a boon to mankind in the past. I do hope that NASA thinks this action through clearly before embarking on a mission that could result in the destruction of all known life in our solar system.
I am not sure how I found this site, but I love almost everything written on The American Undershirt. This was the entry for Friday, September 19, 2003:
Unless the "Check Engine" light means "Several Thousand One-Hundred Dollar Bills Jammed In Wiper Fluid Reservoir; Please Remove And Spend", today could be a very long day.
It is sometimes funny how I read something someone else has posted and it reminds me of something I wanted to share. Just as I recalled my earlier Army experiences after reading Steve's post in my previous entry, I read Glenn's critique of LA fashion sense and it reminded me of a quip I heard from a radio DJ on my drive home from Zane's bash last evening. I am not sure of his exact words, but the cruxt of the quip was: The young women of today are wearing clothes so tight they must be still wearing the same clothes they were wearing when they were 12 and 13 while the young men are wearing clothes so baggy that they won't even grow into until they are in their 40s.
Steve tells of a time his Dad volunteered for a job while in the Army when the Sarge asked if anyone had gone to college, because they were looking for intelligent people for the job. The job turned out to be unloading a shipment of typewriters. Such tale did bring back a memory of the only advice my dad gave me when I joined the Army. "Son," he said, "If they ask for volunteers to be truck drivers, pass on it." I, of course, could not understand why he told me that bit of information, but on the very first day, after we had gotten our haircuts, our uniforms, and told where we were to bed down, some Drill Sergeant asked for volunteers to be truckdrivers on the next day. Several people jumped out and raised their hands. I decided that my dad told me what he did for some reason, so I just stayed back. The Sargeant picked several fairly skinny guys, all of whom were a larger than myself. I was likely the skinniest guy in Ft. Polk* at the time as I was 6'1" and 121 lbs. The Sergeant told his five volunteers to fall out early after breakfast and be ready for their assignment.
The next day, those five were pushing wheelbarrows full of sandbags all over the place while the rest of us were busy learning how to march. I am almost sure, now, that when I my dad joined the Army, he had raised his hand that first day. I do know that his advice saved me from having to push wheelbarrows full of sandbags on my second day in the Army. I believe that episode was a lesson to all of us that it was best never to volunteer for what we thought were going to be easy jobs to get out of our duties. As for me, I was always careful about volunteering for anything. As it was, I got enough shit jobs thrown my way anyway. ;)
*I think my size was the reason I was given the M-60 machine gun to lug around instead of the 15lb M-16 all during basic training.
Well, I am back. I made Fredericksburg just in time to eat just before closing time. I had some famous Fredericksburg wurst, with some saurkraut, some not so sour kraut, and some spicy mashed potatoes. I drank 28 ounces of a good German Pilsner. I left there, heading for Blanco to meet up with Denita, Eric and Zane for Zane's Birthday Bash. I found a safe place to pull over on the little two lane road from Fredericksburg to Blanco and slept in the car until about 4:00am when I awoke chilled. I was thirsty so drove on into Blanco, went both ways on the highway hoping for find some place open without luck. I finally pulled into the parkinglot for the large grocery store there and went back to sleep. I awoke again about 8:00am and looked for somewhere to eat breakfast. After breakfast, I called Eric to check to see if everyone was alert and headed on over there.
Denita was working on the cake, Zane was having fun, Eric was getting stuff ready to take to the park and Eric's mom was playing with her dog, mostly. Eric and I left and set up the picnic canopy and blew up helium balloons awaiting the arrival of all the guests. Let's see, besides myself and his mom and dad, both his grandmothers were in attendance, as well as his maternal uncle, two friends of Eric's from work, some couple from Denton, relationship unknown with their baby, and one other guy who seemed to be a friend of Denita's. Eric cracked out hsi new smoker he had purchased at Wallyworld and loaded it with chicken quarters, steaks, dogs and sausages. The crowd arrived bit by bit. The food was done and everyone ate. Then the real party began. Zane laughed, he cried, he smiled, he frowned, he played in the cake, ate very little,a nd then he made out like a bandit with the gifts. He especially seemed enamored with a Clifford, the Big Red Dog card and the half full water bottle his grandmother had left unattended in the chair where I sat holding him in my lap. Finally, it all got the best of him and he fell asleep. Good time for the party to end, people started leaving. I did, regretfully, as I had a really great time. I probably didn't have as good a time as Zane, but it was his party. For me, it was just good to get out of town for a bit. Of course, now I am home, am really tired, just ran a hot bath and am ready to go soak for a bit.
I have to get up early in the morning to go do my zoo routine, so blogging will be light until I get home from that adventure. As for party pics, I got some, but the camera is still in the car, the software and USB cord to get them off of the camera and into this computer are both at the office. I'll try to get something up soon.
As a last aside, I think ya'll must have been glad to see me gone, because I seem to have gotten more visitation while I was away than I got all week while I was here. Maybe I need to go away more often, huh?
After havin' sprog nummer 'leven, a scurvy landlubbin' shackin' up couple decided t'was enough, as they could'n afford a larger bed. So t'bloke wentt'his sawbones and told him that he and his buxom beauty didn't wantt'have no more sprogs.
T'sawbones told him thar was a nad tyin' procedure called a vasectomy that would fix t' problem but it took a wad of booty to pay for'n it. Fur near t-nuthin', the sawbones spake, the bloke wast'go home, take'n one of them large Chinese poppycrackers, light it, put it in a grog jug, then hold t'jug upt'his ear and countt'10.
T'bloke says't't'sawbones, "B'Jayzus, I may not be t'smartest guy in t'world, but I don't see how puttin' a Chinese poppycracker in a grog jug nextt'me ear be goin't'help me."
"Trust me, it will do t'job", said t'sawbones."
So t'bloke went home, lit a Chinese poppycracker and put it in a grog jug. He held t'can upt'his ear and begant'count: "1, 2, 3, 4, 5," at which point he paused, placed t'grog can a'tween his legs so's he could continue countin' with his other hand.
Aye, ya landlubbin' scurvy dogs, perk up them ears, 'cause Cap'n Black&Bluebeard here gots some orders and such to pass along to you'un.
Arrrrgh, Mr. Filcher, hoist that slimy pig eatin' scurvy lass that's asleepin' though my news up the yardarm. And the next ones of ya that ain't payin' attention to whats I gots to say will be awalkin' the plank and these be some shark infested waters we be sailin' through, so shuts ya yaps and listen up.
Seems that theres some hoedown luau or somethin' nut other I gots to attend over on t'otherside of Neptune's knickers so's I am gonna commandeer the Queen's launch and head into the sunset. Be'un back when I get back. Mr. Filcher will be in command.
Oh, un, when I be gettin' back, I will be tryin' to get that black&orange lamp carryin' fella to come back wit' me. Seems some o' ya'll scruvy mealy-mouthed buccaneers been missin' his company. Well'n, that's 'bout alls I gots to say. As ya was!
Mr. Filcher, bring that danged squinty eyed fella with the big forearms front and forward. I was a swearin' I seen that bloke a 'nibblin' spinach when I was a talkin'.
Ahoy mates, me blogchild Cherry passed 100 posts. She be a real bloggin' lass, she be. We'n forgit to check n' with'n one'nother and done pasted up t'same joke for'n today.
Yar, it be 'memberin' MIA/POWs day too, so's ye better be 'memberin' 'em or ye willst be a'walkin' da plank!
It be also talk like a pirate day, you scurvy dogs. Anna din't forgit. Thanks be to Bluebread for this! I be so worn out from not doin' anythin' all week that I be in a desperate needo'a rest.
Avast now, if't I'd o'recollect'd t'day was speak like a pirate day. I'd den have scribbled me prior entry as:
A wealthy man decidedt'go on a safari in Africa. He took his faithful pet dachshund along for company. One day, t'dachshund started chasin' butterflies into t'jungle, and before long he was lost.
Wanderin' about, he saw a leopard headin' rapidly in his direction with t'obvious intentiono'havin' lunch. "I'm in deep trouble now!" t'dachshund thought. Then he noticed some bones on t'ground close by, and settled downt'chew on t'bones with his aftt't'approachin' cat.
Just as t'leopard was aboutt'leap, t'dachshund exclaimed loudly, "lad, that was one delicious leopard. I wonder if thar be any more around here?"
Hearin' this, t'leopard halted his attack in mid-stride, terrified, and slunk away into t'jungle. "Whew," said t'leopard, "That was close. That dachshund nearly got me."
Meanwhile, a monkey who had been watchin' t'whole scene from a nearby tree, figured he could put this knowledget'good use and trade itt't'leopard for protection. So off he went after t'leopard with great speed.
But t'dachshund saw where he was headin' and figured what he must be up to. T'monkey soon caught up with t'leopard, spilled t'beans and struck a deal for himself. T'leopard was furious at bein' made a foolo'and said, "Here monkey, hop on me aft and watch what happenst'that connivin' canine."
Now t'dachshund saw t'leopard comin' with t'monkey on his aft, and thinks, "What be I goin't'do now?" But insteado'runnin', t'dog sat down with his aftt'his attackers, pretendin' he hadn't seen them. And when they get close enought'hear, t'dachshund said, "Where's that monkey? I sent him off half an hour agot'brin' me another leopard."
A wealthy man decided to go on a safari in Africa. He took his faithful pet dachshund along for company. One day, the dachshund started chasing butterflies into the jungle, and before long he was lost.
Wandering about, he saw a leopard heading rapidly in his direction with the obvious intention of having lunch. "I'm in deep trouble now!" the dachshund thought. Then he noticed some bones on the ground close by, and settled down to chew on the bones with his back to the approaching cat.
Just as the leopard was about to leap, the dachshund exclaimed loudly, "Boy, that was one delicious leopard. I wonder if there are any more around here?"
Hearing this, the leopard halted his attack in mid-stride, terrified, and slunk away into the jungle. "Whew," said the leopard., "That was close. That dachshund nearly got me."
Meanwhile, a monkey who had been watching the whole scene from a nearby tree, figured he could put this knowledge to good use and trade it to the leopard for protection. So off he went after the leopard with great speed.
But the dachshund saw where he was heading and figured what he must be up to. The monkey soon caught up with the leopard, spilled the beans and struck a deal for himself. The leopard was furious at being made a fool of and said, "Here monkey, hop on my back and watch what happens to that conniving canine."
Now the dachshund saw the leopard coming with the monkey on his back, and thinks, "What am I going to do now?" But instead of running, the dog sat down with his back to his attackers, pretending he hadn't seen them. And when they get close enough to hear, the dachshund said,
"Where's that monkey? I sent him off half an hour ago to bring me another leopard."
Like I had anything to say. Hmm, well, other than the worst thing you ever want to get into your navel is petroleum jelly. You cannot wash that stuff off. I swear, I got some in my navel once, and don't remember how, but I suppose it was something kinky, you know how those things can get way out of control, but anyway, I had this petroleum jelly in my belly button. It felt really icky and I couldn't wash it out. Strange, huh? Well, I told ya I didn't have anything to say and yet you had to read it, didn't ya? End of Report, thankfully.
I especially love it when I find something worthy of inclusion on the Hit Parade. >>>>>> Two more great comments found today. Can your name be found there?
Is there an algorithm in play in the ordering of Jay's blogroll?
This one really deserves to be read my many! Be one of the many, but please do come back!
Oh George, I forgot. Excuse me while I jump up and give mine a birthday kiss. Happy Constitution Day, US Constitution.
[Update: Oh, and I did forget to thank those who wrote it, those who have interpreted it wisely, those that actually tried to follow it in effecting their duties, and all those little people out there who need such as a shining light of what freedom really means. Our freedom is as strong as the words that were written as interpreted by the judges and as enforced by the enforcers. The script is a hit, but the direction is haphazard and the actors are all suspect.]
If I was not needing to go refill my drink really badly, I would likely just have sprayed something all over my monitor. I just read the funniest joke. If I was a real bad boy, I would just cut&paste it here, instead of telling you where I found it . . . . . . OK, I found it here, but come back later, OK?
Wow! I love this:
Much is made of how the absence of a father can harm a boy’s life. However, I see everyday just how adversely the lives of girls are effected due to this lack.Being the father of a girl, I hope my brother realizes how his abilities as a father will influence her later attitudes toward men. For her, he is the hero and the protector and, often, the sterner disciplinarian. Without him, or through his indifference (or abuse), she will likely grow up to believe that most men are weak and/or untrustworthy. She may even grow up to believe that she doesn’t need men at all.
So the next time you hear a woman cutting down all men, ask yourself where her father is and what he’s done for--or to--her. Ask yourself whether she even knows who he is. And, if you’re really brave, ask her. The answer might not be a surprise. baldilocks
It seems there are a lot of bloggers keeping an eye on the sky tonight, and I decided maybe I should do so also. After all, it is raining sheets outside and there have been several gusty winds come along. Of course, it is a long way from a hurricane, but then tornados seem to come around here more often that hurricanes come onshore. I hope all ya'll that are in the path of that hurricane ride it out safely, especially you fools who are out with their surfboards trying to catch a big one. If any of ya'll idiots make it back in alive, email me and I will definitely put something up on my blog about your adventures. As for me, I am just waiting for the tornado, 'cause I think I wouldn't mind getting out there and chasing Helen Hunt. ;)
OK, I have been craving a 3 column template for like forever and I finally have one. I am still not sure it works in Mozilla, but the font colors and font types are back to what I started with when I moved from Blogger to MT. I am not happy with that title gif and you can expect it to change. If I find a 3 column template that will stretch to the sides of the page, I will likely change. Thankfully, I am about as adept and changing CSS files now as I need to be. Of course, with all this work and coming back to something close with what I started with, and seeming to have lost about 50% of my visitation rate while I was experimenting, I am wondering if maybe I have hit the end of my rope this time. Could it be that the time has arrived for me to give up on blogging and to move on to another hobby? It is not like I really have anything much to add to the topics going around on the Blogosphere, and my life is not all that interesting, except maybe to one or two people out there, and I really do need to get back to work on my book. That is surely something to think about, huh?
Attention, bosses: Even monkeys seem to know the value of equal pay for equal work.When rewarded similarly for the same task – in this case, exchanging a small rock with a scientist – capuchin monkeys worked happily for a slice of cucumber. But after they witnessed a partner getting a coveted, succulent grape for the bit of granite, the cucumber-paid monkeys took offense.
Some went on strike. Some kept halfheartedly doing the work but refused to accept the stinkin' cucumber.
From DallasNews.com - Study: Monkeys, like people, balk when they feel cheated or slighted, by Laura Beil
Hmm, I am a bit suspicious as to why Frank J does not like monkeys now. Could it be that he has been getting all the cucumbers while the monkeys have been getting all the grapes for doing the same work at his place of employment?
Hmmm, it seems that Paul has stated I told everyone how not to look gay and McGehee has suggested I described how not to talk your way out of a ticket.
Hmmm, maybe I could now tell people how not to get a date, how not to get married, how not to have a family, how not to find success, etc. It does seem that I really do know a lot more about how not to do stuff than I do about how to do it. That is just sad.
"I hate lawyers (even though I guess I am one) but more than lawyers I hate the Insurance industry. They've already ruined the practice of medicine ...." Eric, Classical Values
How do you play the bouncin' baby belly button game? You just place your mouth firmly over the bouncin' baby's belly button and blow. It is almost guaranteed to bring a gurgling giggle out of the most annoyed bouncing baby you ever seen. But then you likely knew that, didn't you? Alas! I regretfully must end this report on that sour note.
I wanted to see this Flash movie so badly, but it would not ever seem to download to the point where it would finally play. At least it didn't on the five attempts since I found the link over on DaGoddess. I finally leeched the damn thing off the site. Oh? You want the link to the movie? You think you can actually get it to download? OK, have at it.
Thanks to my blog amigo, Tony S, I have discovered a covey of new blogs to add to my blogroll:
In other blogging news, you might have noticed that I changed the order to list the blogs in udated order. I find that I usually read regularly updated blogs more often. That order makes it easy to find those blogs that have updated since I last updated mine.
I did recently add another Texas blog: Jessica's Well, a Midland-based group blog. I particularly agreed with what was discussed in this post.
James has a lawyer joke. It is not the funniest lawyer joke in the world, but it is probably in the top 100 all-time lawyer jokes. Check it out.
Talking about lawyer jokes, I was hired by a lawfirm in Houston as local counsel to walk some paperwork through court on a foreclosure matter. Last Friday I took an order to a judge to have someone removed from property following a foreclosure that occurred in January. The lady calls me, and asks can she have more time. I tell her I cannot make that decision, but I will call my client and see what they say. I call the client. The client says she has had since January to move out, so no more extensions. I call the lady and tell her what they said. She says to me: "I think you are lying." She hangs up. Hey lady? I am not even the tow truck driver on this one ... I was just answerin' the phone and pushin' papers about.
Well, I am unsure if the drop in visitation rate has anything to do with the template, the coloring, or what, but I would rather my blog was read than being beautiful to see. As such, I might be doing a bit of experimentation. If the site looks funny, it is supposed to be funny. Of course, what you are reading is supposed to be funny, the way I look is supposed to be funny, but the site itself is not supposed to look funny.
Well, that's all the changing I am gonna do until I learn if everyone is pleased with these colors.
Shades of King George IV! Wasn't this just the sort of governmental activity for which we started a Revolutionary War to stop in our lives a couple of centuries ago? That poor man and his family. Heck, I am gonna have nightmares over this, just imagine what the victim of such oppression and his family are going through.
attribution: Tony Rosen*
*Tony also pointed to this story about Sun Microsystems getting seriously into competition with Bill Gates.
I don't have cable and watch very little that comes on TV except the occasional something-or-other on PBS. I keep hearing all this stuff about this show, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, and from what I gather, it is all about this group of homosexuals who make over some straight guy to make him more attractive or something. Now wait ... just why would I want a bunch of homosexuals assisting me to become more attractive. I am not all that interested in attracting homosexuals. I have always thought my pathetic mismatched colorization with wrinkles look was more attuned to attract what I was wanting to attract ... some lovely lass who thinks now there is a fixer upper that I can work with.
Nope, ladies, you can almost bet that if you see some guy dressed to the nines with an impeccable GQ look, he is gay. In fact, if you see some guy that looks almost good enough to eat, he is likely gay. If the socks on his feet match, there is a real good likelhood he is gay. If he combed his hair, there is a chance that he is gay.
Yesterday, Drumwaster chided President Bush for not doing more to stop Hurricane Isabel from destroying the East Coast. According to Michele, Rev. Pat Robertson has resorted to prayer to calm the mighty storm. However, leave it up to Anna to devise the perfect plan to defeat the raging winds:
Go on, Carolinians, take Fran Drescher to the edge of the angry sea. Grab a handful of hair and pull her right down to Mother Nature's ill-tempered arrival.And then...
tell her a joke.
That's right. Make her laugh. For Fran Drescher's goat-like bleatings are the one true repellent of all things in the universe.
THe following is the body of an actual email* that was sent by Vicki Pierce following her nephew James' funeral:
"I'm back, it was certainly a quick trip, but I have to also say it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. There is a lot to be said for growing up in a small town in Texas.The service itself was impressive with wonderful flowers and sprays, a portrait of James, his uniform and boots, his awards and ribbons. There was lots of military brass and an eloquent (though inappropriately longwinded) Baptist preacher. There were easily 1000 people at the service, filling the church sanctuary as well as the fellowship hall and spilling out into the parking lot.
However, the most incredible thing was what happened following the service on the way to the cemetery. We went to our cars and drove to the cemetery escorted by at least 10 police cars with lights flashing and some other emergency vehicles, with Texas Rangers handling traffic. Everyone on the road who was not in the procession, pulled over, got out of their cars, and stood silently and respectfully, some put their hands over their hearts, some had small flags. Shop keepers came outside with their customers and did the same thing. Construction workers stopped their work, got off their equipment and put their hands over their hearts, too. There was no noise whatsoever except a few birds and the quiet hum of cars going slowly up the road.
When we turned off the highway suddenly there were teenage boys along both sides of the street about every 20 feet or so, all holding large American flags on long flag poles, and again with their hands on their hearts. We thought at first it was the Boy Scouts or 4H club or something, but it continued .... for two and a half miles. Hundreds of young people, standing silently on the side of the road with flags. At one point we passed an elementary school, and all the children were outside, shoulder to shoulder holding flags ... kindergartners, handicapped, teachers, staff, everyone. Some held signs of love and support. Then came teenage girls and younger boys, all holding flags. Then adults. Then families. All standing silently on the side of the road. No one spoke, not even the very young children. The last few turns found people crowded together holding flags or with their hands on their hearts. Some were on horseback.
The military presence...at least two generals, a fist full of colonels, and representatives from every branch of the service, plus the color guard which attended James, and some who served with him ... was very impressive and respectful, but the love and pride from this community who had lost one of their own was the most amazing thing I've ever been privileged to witness.
I've attached some pictures, some are blurry (we were moving), but you can get a small idea of what this was like. Thanks so much for all the prayers and support."
I have seen the pictures and provide a look at a few of the better ones below.
*I do not personally know Ms. Pierce or James, and received this email from another firend, who may or may not be personally acquainted with Ms. Pierce or James.
Yes, I did do a bit more than my normal navel gazing today. I guess while I was pondering that poor visitation showing for my daily efforts, I must have given that navel a good obervation. I didn't find any answers there, though. I really didn't expect to do so. Just normal navel gazing, I guess. Hmmm, how boring is that?
and she doesn't think any of them are funny!
salute to Jed for pointing the way to this one.
You know, I didn't post anything about that Court decision that was announced yesterday. I heard about it, even read several blog posts about it, but I am rarely concerned or amazed about anything that happens in California or any decisions of the 9th Circuit. I think this is the best story on it I have seen .
Another Annoying Subspecies Identified TodayHomo Sapiens Clubgoerdokissimus. Any chick who shows up to work on a Monday, still wearing a plastic wristband from club she went to on the weekend, has a serious self-image problem that can only be rectified by strong doses of laughter and ridicule, applied generously behind her back. - annika*
*I do lie awake at night just pondering what it would be like to kiss every square inch of annika.
Kate says she has been blogging now for about 6 months and wants to share 10 things she has learned. I read what she had to say about it and agree pretty much with most of it.
I don’t think there’s any moment in film more depressing than that. Other than when you see Pauly Shore's name on the opening credits of "Encino Man," I mean.
OK, this topic has been going around for a long time. I remember posting on April 28 that lawmakers in New Zealand "wanted to add provisions regulating food sold at schools, banning food advertisements at certain times of the day and controlling the quality of food sold within 1km of schools, to a new health law to meet concerns about child obesity." The World Health Organization (WHO) is concerned about sugar or so they said in a report they came out with back in April. It seems someone else is on the bandwagon to try to change the eating habits of our youth. Acidman's gut is rumbling over this situation.
What a lot of people do not know about me is that I am an expert on diet and nutrition.
How I got to be an expert, I will actually never know, but I do know what happens to you if you do not eat right, if the chemicals needed to run your body get out of whack, and from my own experience, a good bit about weight control. I do get a lot of questions about malnourished people. Such is closer to what my actual expertise points toward, but I also get questions from 98 lb. weaklings trying to gain weight and plenty of questions from people needing to lose weight. To a person, if someone asks me about any diet that exists, I tell them to forget it. There is only one way to lose weight. Consume less calories that you intake on a daily basis until the weight is gone. How to do this? My number one rule, do not change your normal diet, except in one regard.
I mean, actually, you can lose weight eating the same old crap you always eat. Just eat less of it. The one thing I say that you do not eat: sugar! Sugar metabolizes to fat faster than anything you put into your body: period. I tell everyone to take a daily multivitamin, as that insures you get the nutrition you need, so it makes no difference if you live off of mac&cheese or Fritos®. An average person needs approximately 2000 calories for a normal day's activity, so if you cut down to 1500 calories, and increase your exercise, you will lose weight. You will not lose it quickly, but you will lose it in such a manner as it will be easy to maintain the new weight.
Any and all fast weight loss diets throw the body's metabolism into turmoil. The body does not understand diet, but it does understand famine. If you starve your body so as to drop a huge amount of weight, as soon as you start eating again, the body will try to store up as much fat as possible so as to prepare for the next famine. If you just gradually adjust the amount that you eat, not only does you body's metabolism adjust but your stomach will begin to shrink after awhile and you will actually feel full eating less.
What is this diet crap anyway. Consider these factors:
Yes, there is a problem. But then again, is there? I hear the term Rubenesque applied to some larger women, and it is true that larger women were desirable back during the Renaissance. Why? Well, mainly because oxen were expensive and hard to come by, so having a large woman with a strong back was beneficial to the family's livelihood. Uh, I think womens lib has done completely away with the thought that any woman was going to volunteer to pull the family ox-cart to market so Rubenesque needs to go the way of the ox-cart.
However, by the same token, the emaciated look is the first step on the road to an early death. Ideally, everyone should be close to 10% body fat and take a good multi-vitamin daily. Don't be too big or too thin. Don't drink, smoke or do drugs. No matter what you do, you are liable to live longer than was the average 200 years ago. You rarely saw too many really obese people, except the very wealthy 200 years ago, because food was hard to come by and people didn't eat real regular. Try skipping a meal or two on occasion if you need to lose weight, but don't fast, don't try anything to take it off too fast.
Everyone (except anorexics*), cut down on the sugar.
*They wouldn't put a grain of sugar into their bodies if you paid them to do it.
McGehee is rewriting Eagles® lyrics.
It has just passed 7:00 pm my time and I have not had 50 visitors yet today.
- Total 18,039
- Average Per Day 150
- Average Visit Length 0:57
- Last Hour 7
- Today 48
- This Week 1,050
What in the world has happened?* I used to get than many before I even woke up in the morning. Seriously folks, have I pissed someone off, or what? I mean, I have noticed a big drop in visitation rate since Labor Day, but this is horrendous. Oh wait ... maybe Google finally did that thing they were gonna do where blogs did not show up on searches unless you were searching for blogs. Either that or no cares about Michael Jackson or whether he is bankrupt, or Robin Williams Peace Plan as written by some Harley-Davidson motorcycle riding guy who actually wrote it or any other thing I used to get 10 to 15 hits a day from Google searches. Oh well, maybe I am back down to my two or three regular daily readers again.
*Well, I did change my template, but I thought that was a good thing.
This was forwarded to me by my friend, Matt, the other attorney in town. Amazingly enough, I noticed it was sent to him from my friend Karolee, the person in charge of our County Jail.
While I was driving down the road the other day (going a little faster than I should have been) I passed over a bridge only to see a cop on the other side with a radar gun laying in wait. The cop pulled me over, walked up to the car, and with that classic patronizing smirk we all know about, asked "what's your hurry?"To which I replied, "I'm late for work."
To which he asked, "What do you do?"
"I'm a rectum stretcher," I responded.
The cop was surprised and confused. "A what? A rectum stretcher?? And just what does a rectum stretcher do?"
"Well," I said, "I start by inserting one finger, then I work my way up to two fingers, then three, then four, then with my whole hand in. I work side to side until I can get both hands in, and then I slowly but surely stretch the hole, until it's about 6 feet."
Then the cop asked questioningly and cautiously, "And just what do you do with a six-foot asshole?"
To which I politely replied, "You give him a radar gun and park him behind a bridge ...."
Traffic ticket: $95.00
Court costs: $45.00
Look on cop's face ... Priceless
I meant to point ya'll to this Dallas Morning-News story yesterday.
Combine the proliferation of media outlets – cable television, the Internet – with the trend of a few media conglomerates controlling the content of more and more outlets, and you have the basic recipe for instant overkill.Its effect on consumers is best described as "simul-tedium" – the increasingly common experience of being sick of hearing about something at almost the same moment you first hear about it.
"There is a change taking place – no doubt about it," says Paul Levinson, a media studies professor at Fordham University and author of The Soft Edge: A Natural History and Future of the Information Revolution. "We've reached a point when there's so much media that when something catches on, it's just suddenly everywhere and there's almost no escaping it."
Have you ever just gone from blog to blog and seen the same story again and again until you wonder if there is anything interesting happening anywhere else?
Well, no real news worth mentioning about my navel. It had a pretty mundane day being covered up by a dress shirt for most of the day, which was switched with a sweatshirt when I came home. I was shirtless for a goodly portion of time after I first arrived home, and only pulled on the sweatshirt after I decided to go for a DP refill. I did do a deep peer into the depths of my navel lest a lint ball have loosened from the sweatshirt and had become lodged in such navel, but the navel appears to have been safe from lint ball attack from this particular sweatshirt. I apologize having mentioned going shirtless earlier, knowing some of my readers probably swooned from the visions that resulted from such descriptive prose. With such apology, I end tonight's report.
Andrea Harris spotted this superb artistic creation. You seriously do not want to miss out on getting a glorious eyeful of magnificence. It does take awhile to fully load, so be patient if you are on dialup. It is worth the wait ... it truly is.
Friend Frank just emailed me a link to this patriotic tribute by Johnny Cash, which seems to provide a quite apropos memory of the Man in Black. Of course, there actually would not be a Ragged Old Flag flying over any courthouse anywhere where the American Legion* had a membership.
*I am a member of our local American Legion. We are responsible for maintaining dignity for the US Flag in our local area.
There has a been a motion made that blogs be incorporated into the Dewey Decimal System. It has been reluctantly seconded. I suggest we open the matter up for discussion while we try to convene a quorum to vote.
"I don't want to go into detail but it involved overcharged batteries, a purple bunny rabbit and 48 hours of continuous nonstop "me" time." -- Anna describing her third near-death experience.
I do think that would have been entertaining enough to be actually worth displaying on VoyeurWeb.
There has been a call to link to this story. If you take the time to read it, you will be glad to link it.
attribution: Kathy Kinsley
attribution: the GooberBug
I think they just called a meeting of the Rocket Scientists. They hung out the sign: It ain't brain surgery, you know?
Written, as if, with bloody hands, this short story draws you into the terrors of one's own mind.
My first two years in undergrad were spent in the Architecture Department at UTA. I might not been ready for college, because I didn't really put forth my best efforts in those courses. I didn't have any idea what I wanted to do. I was fresh out of the Army and I just wanted to do something. Architecture just seemed pretty cool.
The first year was pretty cool too. Freehand drawing actually made me a much better artist. History of Art and Architecture was intriguing but I didn't really like knowing all those damn details about everything. I just wanted to look at it and try to figure out how they made it and why. I still try to keep my eye on the world of Architecture. I found this site and a description of an new type of house in line with one of my interests in self-sustained life. What this guy is doing is really not a new idea, but a technologically updated version of a very ancient habitation design. Pretty nifty: check it out.
Well, except for a few odd Mozilla users, I guess I am about through updating the template. From what I have seen written in the comments, I think most like what I came up with. I am appreciative of Firdamatic for the base design, but it took a lot of finagling and pushing here and there to finally get it to do what I wanted it to do. I want to thank notCrawford GraFix for the title graphic. I don't think I could have come up with anything better on my own. Oh wait, I am notCrawford GraFix and I did design that damn thing on my own. Oh well, not bad for MSPaint I guess. I may be doing an update on that, however. I suspect something much more dynamic to be coming this way soon. Anyway, my visitation rate has been falling, and I am afraid I have dropped the ball. I mean where is all that snarky inanious crap that I am usually putting up for everyone's enjoyment? No Wicked Willie™ since 10 days ago? I know Denita is chomping her bits awaiting the next installment. Spielberg has been trying to contact me also about that [as if]. Alien Attitudes™ hasn't seen much efforts of late either.
Anyone believe in biorythms? I really do feel like there are certain times when I am highly productive and other times when I don't seem to have the motivation to pull myself out of bed. Oh, god, I might be bi-polar. Where the Hell is my lithium? Can I get SSI? Medicaid or Medicare? How can I quit slaving just so I can pay huge sums of money to landlords, utility companies and insurance companies? I feel like I have accumulated my fair share of the world's gross production capabilities, and am I better for it or better off because of it? Just how bad could it really be just to have nothing but the clothes on your back, just finding a good corner to crawl up in at night after seeking a day's comforts revelling in wine and women, or mostly just wine. I mean, what is the downside, having to slap aside a Sonic cat who is trying to beat you to the scraps in the dumpster? Is botulism fatal? Is it a painful way to die? Am I crazy? Should I be?
James has a good discussion on taxation of the wealthy as a means to pay for war. If I had a bit more time, I might add a remark or two on this subject.*
*Wow, third party benefits to my running late?
"And anyway, if we have to have a World's Oldest Terrorist, Fidel Castro is three years older than Yasser Arafat, and never mind how he got to be a Head of State." - CG Hill
Whew, I think I need to get a cease-fire in this gender-sided fight about the type of navel being posted. OK, let's see, we began with my navel. Then annika provided some navel coverage and sent me this shot. Then I found this nice black and white depiction of feminine beauty at some Russian mail order bride site. Next up was that delectable navel of the underwear model and the complimentary ass pic. Frank then sends in the fad diet spokesmodel, while Cherry supplied me with a link to a photo of another male which was not posted. The gals call foul and then I get a resounding chorus of "Doh!"s for my next effort at navel display. And I end this trip down the photographic memory lane with this link to last evening's ladies' show.
Now, there will be no more photographic evidence of navels unless they are:
- of my navel showing some substantial change from previously submitted evidence;
- of such significant beauty as to draw my lustful masculine admiration; or
- of the actual owner of such navel, who may freely submit such photos to me for possible publication.*
*I do reserve the right to edit or reject any such submissions, and all submitted materials become my sole property, to do with as I may. ;)
[MAJOR UPDATE: It seems OLDCATMAN has put on his Sherlock Holmes hat {just prior to his discussion with the Lone Ranger about the proper spelling of Kemo Sabe} and located a website produced by some guy with a more compelling belly button fetish than myself. COOL! Links GALORE!!!!]
This one has been handed around so many times I just couldn't bear the space to repeat it. Just in case you haven't read this, do so now. I might be doing some navel gazing in the mean time.
Have you ever sniffed a wet parrot?
Parrots may Have a use After allTurns out that, when slightly damp and pressed against one's face, Marvin smells a lot like roast beef. Little Tiny Lies
I am not sure what happened to the previous post I had written about this, but somehow I must have gotten sidetracked about whether or not I was going to spend mindless moments of my life describing in glowing prose the disgusting sight of watching one's dog lick itself. Did I and accidentally delete the blurb I had written telling you to go read this? Hurry, I should have that licking dog post* done by the time you get back.
*There never was or will be a post about a dog licking itself on this blog.**
**I once made that same sort of affirmation about never having a counter on this blog, and we see where that went.***
***I do have good suspicions about holding out on the licking dog posts, however
that I have stressed as heck over the last few days trying to get this new look put together, I have also been trying to work on giving up on my nicotine addiction. Usually, I would have likely been sitting here for hours and hours chain smoking while I was experimenting on how to fix the errors or whatever, and yet, I have not done so. I have a pack of cigarettes at my neighboring convenience store where I go several times a day for a Dr. Pepper, and I will get one smoke out of the pack every trip. I started such last week, went through only one pack on the first day, took me two days to go through the second pack, and this time I have gone through three days on the last pack. I have one cigarette left in the pack, and I suspect I will smoke it sometime before the end of the night, so all I have to decide is whether to go ahead and buy one more pack or just try to make this one my last cigarette. I am leaning to go ahead and by one more pack, as I think that is my safety net, knowing if the cravings hit me too awfully bad, I know where I can get a cigarette to satisfy my craving. If not, then I will either have to find someone to bum one from or go in and buy another pack at that time. Knowing the pack is there will likely assist me in not worrying as much as not having it there. Anyway, I really am trying hard to quit this time. Why?
Well, I have been looking through Internet dating site ads for the last two years, and several times I have found someone who I thought was pretty close to what I wanted. Almost each time I did find someone with whom I think is worth communicating, they were looking for only non-smokers. I have even tried a couple, and everytime, my smoking was a big problem they could not overlook. I figured it was a change worth making if I really wanted to realize my dream. Also, I am sure it is going to be better for my health. ;) Besides, I am sure I can find some other way to spend $10 a day. Maybe I will start drinking beer {not!}.
OK, finally found have it looking good on my computer. I am not sure how it looks in Opera, Mozilla, or anything older than IE Version 6, but I like how it looks. What do you have to say about the new look? It didn't take me, what, 3 days? Not bad for a Geek/0™, huh?
[Update: It looks really crappy in Netscape 7.02 but plays OK in MSN Explorer 7.02 OK. It seems there is an update for Netscape available. I am unsure how Netscape 7.01 is an update for 7.02. In the meantime, if it looks like crap, try looking at it in IE. ;) ]
Well, I seem to have wasted a whole day trying to change the template and CSS file to make this blog look like my test site. I have wrestled with that CSS file every which way I can. I made all kinds of changes and did actually convert everything to percentages, but that threw off the alignment of everthing and threw it all the way over to the left. What is so ridiculous is that I could have done the whole thing in tables in an hour, from scratch. All I have been doing is trying to tweak a damn template and CSS file that works if you start from scratch, that will not seem to work with the multitude of entries from the last several months on this blog.
The only upside to the whole ordeal is that I have a lot greater knowledge about CSS and various page tags than I did a couple of days ago. I am not wondering if it would not be better to just do my own damn template and CSS file. Of course, I would likely have the same problems pouring several months of bloggy goodness into whatever I came up with, wouldn't I?
OK, let's really make it ladies' night tonight:
[No men allowed inside]
Well, sorry about the dearth of posting today, but if you have been checking in, you likely have seen the problems I am having with the new template. Despite have looked over everything in the template and CSS file, for some reason, the blog column is coming up too wide to work with the template. I have no idea why, and I am reworking the template, thinking maybe my cut and paste job between the old template and the new template, may be the root of the problem. Of course, I also see that if blogrolling goes down, my blog will take forever to load up. There is just too much I do not understand about webpage designing, and what is funny, about 5 years ago, I knew much more about how to do things than I do now.
I am pretty sure I picked a pretty good day to have been doing this, though, as I see I did not have many visitors today, and for some reason, yesterday's Navel Gazing Report™ went right over the top of everyone's heads, although Denita got close.
Yeah, like here is another nasty villain we [sarcasm] desperately need off of our streets. [/sarcasm] When is this insanity going to cease?
As I w posted yesterday, I am working on a template makeover, and I have gotten most of the changes done. Check out my testblog.
OK, as I promised Susie last evening, I was gonna put up something for the ladies. I thought and I thought and I wondered how I could satisfy my female visitors. Of course, I could show a picture of my navel, but I have done that somewhere down below. I am definitely no judge of what constitutes an admirable male navel, as my expertise only extends to what I find uniquely admirable about women, but I did think that surely ya'll would be pleased if I brought you a glimpse of the navel of one of the most well-known and popular men in the last few decades. I worked really hard on this post, just so as to please ya'll gals. The picture is a bit stylized, I admit, but surely you recognize the male behind this navel:
Excuse me for clipping out the best part of James' post, but I didn't want you to accidentally look over this quip:
FACTOID: Speaking of Suzanne Somers.....Suzanne Somers and I made our entry onto this planet on the same day. She, however, looks considerably better than I.
Damn, I knew I should have bought one of those Thighmasters.
Check out James' site if you want the link to the juicy pics.
Kelley has an interesting discussion about the differences between a geek, a nerd and a dork. As she states, most use these terms interactively without distinction, and most allow such to get a fairly good description of the person's personality. I see all as being fairly intelligent members of the human race, but each occupying a different part of my proposed triumvirate of abilities: creating, enumerating, or constructing.
One segment of the society creates things, ideas, products. They have a unique vision for finding the new. One segment counts, records, and archives anything and everything. One segment likes to get their hands dirty, take things apart, and put things together. I refer to these groups as Philosophers, Bean Counters, and Doers.
Now Geeks are a certain segment of Philosophers, who can't see the world for what it is but only for what it could be. Make the World a better Place.
Nerds, on the other hand, are a subset of Counters, who see the world for nothing more than a mass of what it is made of and use superior intelligence to get more of it. Bill Gates is a nerd.
Dorks are a select portion of those doers who possess superior knowledge of the world, but are always tripping up. Affable, friendly, and gullible.
Now, this was floating around the Internet and Frank* fished it up:
Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at an Elingsh uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer are in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a toatl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae we do not raed ervey lteter by it slef but the wrod as a wlohe and the biran fguiers it out aynawy.
Now, if you just read that and thought I bet there is an algorithm pattern to that quote, you are a Geek.
If you saw it and counted the number of correctly spelled words in the quote and expect to win a prize for having done so, you are a Nerd.
And if you saw that quote and searched Google to check whether it was an Internet hoax or not, you are a Dork.
And, if there was an a real BlogFather out there, it should be surely noticed that this post deserves an Instalanche. That is certainly prize winning material.
*You Nerds would have checked out that link.
I am working and trying to figure out how to get my blog to look a bit like this:[graphic deleted by editor, luck changed] I do not seem to be having much luck, though.
Get fried on Friday, Taurus!
An unrealized well of knowledge is finally put to use. [Ask a stranger for advice] A breakthrough concerning your appearance is arriving. [Someone will give you a paper bag] Focus on the way you present yourself; it should be open to inspection. [Act absent-minded and don't zip up.] Wait to take action, but begin your makeover preparations. [Stay home, but bathe, shave and comb your hair.]
County music legend Johnny Cash has gone to join his recently departed wife, June Carter Cash. He died of heart problems during the night at age 71. Let us hope that he didn't literally fall into a burning ring of fire. Can there ever be another Man in Black?
Well, once again, Cherry's Dad has sent out the weekly Friday Bad Joke list and Cherry has posted her pick of the jokes. I picked one that I have heard before, but still is one of the best ones I have ever seen:
Recently a "Husband Shopping Center" opened in Dallas, where single women could go
to choose a husband from among many men. It was laid out with five floors, with the men increasing in positive attributes as you ascended up the floors. The only rule was once you opened the door to any floor, you must choose a man from that floor, and if you went up a floor, you couldn't go back down except to leave the place, never to return.A couple of girlfriends went to the place to find men. On the first floor the door had a sign saying, "These men have jobs and love kids."
The women read the sign and said, "Well, that's better than not having jobs, or not loving kids, but I wonder what's further up?" so up they went.
The second floor said, "These men have high-paying jobs, love kids, and are extremely good-looking."
"Hmmm," said the girls. "But I wonder what's further up?"
The third floor: "These men have high-paying jobs, are extremely good-looking, love kids and help with the housework."
"Wow!" said the women. "Very tempting, BUT there's more further up!" and up they went.
Fourth floor: "These men have high-paying jobs, love kids, are extremely good-looking, help with the housework, and have a strong romantic streak."
"Oh, mercy! But just think what must be awaiting us further on!" So up to the fifth floor they went.
The sign on that floor said, "This floor is empty and exists only to prove that women are impossible to please."
I, of course, was on the first floor for 10 years while living in Dallas, and never saw anyone open the door.
Oh, as an added bonus, this was a quip in one of the quip lists that I just loved:
When you go into court, just remember that you are putting yourself in the hands of 12 people who weren't smart enough to get out of jury duty.
I am still getting so many damn SPAMMERS sending me messages about the amazing penis enlarging pills. One of them actually made me really hit the roof when I saw it. The subject line said something like "It is time to throw away those tweezers." Of course, I suppose if I needed tweezers to get a hold on my penis, I might actually be interested in those damn pills, but are there any men who actually have penises that small? I have never been all that interested in seeing anybody else's penis, but I might be interested in seeing one that you actually had to use tweezers to hold. I mean, seriously, I have changed a few diapers on male infants, and even they had penises large enough to hold, if such was needed, although I can see no reason why anyone would need to do so, without using tweezers. As such, I find that subject line very offensive.
Now, however, I got a SPAM message that I did find interesting. I found it so interesting that I actually followed the link just to see what they were talking about. That is one of the things about getting SPAM: sometimes you do find something that, without having received the message, you might not have even known existed. Maybe there is an upside to SPAM. Let's see, I have gotten, what, about 500,000,000 SPAM messages since I first connected to the Internet and found one that I thought was actually worthwhile at which to look? I think the odds of winning the lottery are better than 1 in 500,000,000. But still, have you ever seen anything like this? I was not aware anything like this even existed and I think it is a great idea.
Yes, the navel is fine and nothing to report. Just thought you would want to know. No one submitted any navel pics for today. I still like this one. I really like it. I might just dream about it tonight.
Today I had a juvenile matter in court involving a very intelligent 12-year-old who seems to be having disciplinary problems. His 18-year-old stepsister, with whom he was very close, died in a car wreck riding home with an intoxicated friend and his parents divorced last year. Now I am suspicious that most of his problems stem from the death of his stepsister. Why do I say that? Well, there were two major events that have happened to him over the last two years: the death and the divorce. You can almost bet the death of the young lady that was a big part of both of their lives had as much to do with the parents divorcing as anything else.
See, I know a little about having someone close die at a young age. Many of you are aware that I lost my wife nine years ago at age 33. It takes a lot out of you. First of all, you lose sense of your own mortality by seeing that anyone of any age can die without any warning. Then you also find a big hole in your life that you cannot fill. Death brings grief and grief takes time to overcome. Everyone seems to have to deal with it on their own time. Some have a harder time than others. In my own case, it took five or six years for me to refocus my life and its purpose. I felt for a long time that when my wife died, my life actually ended also. It made no difference that I was still alive, with my wife no longer around, I had no purpose in life.
As I contemplated these thoughts about the causes of the distress plaguing this young man, I became aware that such correlated well with what we were all remembering today. I thought of all those young widows and widowers who lost loved ones in the incident and all those children who lost parents. I wondered how many among us actually knew what they are still going through and how much it still hurts deep inside having had their loved ones taken away at such an early age. The dead are dead. Some of them may have suffered, but their suffering is long gone. Those left behind are still suffering. Much of it is likely being done silently with very little complaint.
September 11th has rolled around for the second time after the dastardly attack on the World Trade Center in 2001. Remember those who died in that tragedy.
[Update: And PsychoDad, in the comments reminded us:
Remember our troops out there on the front lines doing their part to prevent any more cowardly attacks from happening in the future.
How very neglectful of me for having not mentioned those who are still on the front lines and those who have perished in the efforts to put a stop to terrorism in our world.
]Well. my good friend Frank must have been highly concerned with my mention of my Buddha belly as he submitted a navel picture that came complete with an ad for that popular fad diet going around. Of course, I am not going to advertise such diet, so I carefully clipped the navel shot out and hereby display it for your navel gazing pleasure:
Cherry however submitted the most grotesque navel that has ever been seen. I will not waste the bandwidth to post a picture of such, but someone was proud enough to already have done so. Venture at your own risk, however, as this is a fearful sight that might cause you to experience recurring nightmares.
As for my own navel, I am almost sure the Ninja Spider Mite has departed from the navel area, as I seem to have been attacked by such bastardly vermin on my left hand while blogging tonight. Now if I could only track that little monster down, I would see how well he fared with a forceful blow of my palm. With such thought placed firmly in my mind, I end this night's report.
It seems that astronomers have heard a deep sound from space:
In musical terms, the pitch of the sound generated by the black hole translates into the note of B flat. But, a human would have no chance of hearing this cosmic performance, because the note is 57 octaves lower than middle-C (by comparison a typical piano contains only about seven octaves). At a frequency over a million, billion times deeper than the limits of human hearing, this is the deepest note ever detected from an object in the universe.
The scientists claim the sound comes from a black hole in the Perseus cluster, located 250 million light years from Earth. Has anyone ever discovered what exists on the other side of black holes? Could God be speaking to us and we just can't hear?*
attribution: Anna
*Of course, it could also be the sound of God bitch slappin' Mohammed.
Jeff Trigg tells of a friend who is fighting the constitutionality of the mandatory seatbelt law. I have always thought that it was pretty dumb for them to make us wear seatbelts and then let people on motorcycles go without wearing helmets.
Of course, they have changed that helmet law thing about 5 times since I got out of High School here in Texas, but I suspect that it was the Organ Donation lobby that got it passed the last time. I understand that unhelmeted motorcyclists in accidents are, for some reason, the largest organ donors in the US.
As far as seat belts, I thought New Hampshire had the best idea, when I went through there two years ago. They had a sign that said something like "If you are under the age of 18, buckle up. It's the law."
It appears that some of our well known National characters are not part of the Public Domain. Yes, kiddies, it is true that you can go to jail for messing around with Woodsy Owl or Smokey the Bear. Who woulda thunk it?
attribution: Boots and Sabers
I wonder if it is fair game though to draw a bald eagle wearing some red & white striped pants with a blue star-spangled shirt, holding a shield embazoned with the two towers and 9/11/01 in one wing and a large gun in the other who bellows to all who will listen: Give A Shit! Don't Forget!
OK, this joke has been around since Al Gore invented the Internet, but it is still funny.
Of course, it got me to thinking. I got this vision of Mohammed and Jesus discussing whose followers were best obeying their respective teachings. Mohammed wants Allah to decide and Jesus wants God to decide. They squabble and squabble and soon the Creator comes out and bitch slaps the both of them and says, "Your petty bickering about what I am to be called is giving me a headache. Why don't we decide by seeing how many of your followers are obeying My Ten Commandments?"
Can you believe James said Very, very funny. Nicely done, and without a single footnote! when commenting to this post?
Don't ya think a comment like that is about as good as winning the Blue Ribbon for havin' the prettiest pickles at the State Fair or something? I mean monetarily it is next to worthless, but it does kinda make you feel all warm and cozy inside that your hard work was recognized. I too thought it was pretty funny, but fear that there won't be many that will venture into the extended entries to see that other photo.
Wow, it seems Opus will once again be gracing the Sunday comics! Too bad our local rag is neither printed on Sunday nor has any comics. I suppose I will have to digging through trash cans for the Sunday comic sections from the Star-Telegram and the Morning News beginning November 23rd. Wow, won't that be something for which to be thankful?
I searched and searched for the most beautiful navel and finally tracked down one that I thought was definitely the most perfect navel that ever graced a human body:
And just below I have a picture of the world's most perfect asshole:
OK, OK, so I am not perfect.
I was just thinking about how lame my blog title is. I mean come on, I was new to blogging when I thunk that one up. I think maybe I will change it to something with a bit more pizzazz. What do ya'll think of Spastic Bitch Slap™?* ... oh wait, I would still be on the bottom of alphabetically listed blogrolls, so let's make that Badass Spastic and the Bitch Slap from Hell™.*
*Come on, these ideas are too good to give away, you know. You want to use 'em: Show Me The Money!
Hey, I am so very sorry I have not been filling up much space with bloggy goodness lately. It is not because I do not want to do so. Sadly, I have been so busy trying to get this office back in shape so I can find what I need whenever I want, my brain is so strained, I cannot think enough to know where my damn head is. Hmmm, let me look up my ass ... nope, not there. Well, at least I know I don't have my head up my ass, however, I am almost sure it is not square on my shoulders either. I guess is it somewhere in between. Well, here is hoping [wait, do not start naming names, because surely you will forget somebody and hurt their feelings] all my friends and regular readers are doing well and will forgive me for slacking a bit on my posting.
I am still here at the office, still working hard to get some things done, but at least I did check my email today, but you should see this big pile of mail I have to go through. Oh wait, that one looks like it has a check in it. Let's hope it is large enough to pay all those bills in that pile over there. Nope, it is just a minnow, and I am really needing need a whale to eat up that big pile of bills. Well, back to work. Hopefully I will have a bit more time later. OK?*
*Who was that way in the back that shot me the finger? I couldn't see your face.
Well, the clock radio awoke me to the strains of that legendary hit: A Boy Named Sue. I always liked that song. I am pretty sure I owned the 45 once, when I was a kid. Of course, as an attorney, I have never disliked the name Sue, but I would be more likely to name my son Litigate. It just has a better ring to it, doncha think?
and I really didn't even notice. What's up with that? Maybe I need to have my medication adjusted again. ;) Yeah, like they really have anything to cure what is killin' me. Uh, Doc, you got something to mend my shattered dreams and give me back the 10 years that vanished while I was trying to get a grasp on my life?
Say "Goodnight," Gracie.
"Goodnight Gracie."*
*Yeah, I know I already used tha gag once before, but heck, Burns and Allen used it for years. ;)
It seems a new costumed crimefighter has arrived on the scene to fend off those nasty New Zealand criminals. Yes, there has emerged a new protector of innocent sheep:
"Little Be Pink"
I have a large bug bite on my Buddha belly right above my navel. I have my suspicions as to what bit me. I could feel it crawling around inside my shirt. I had my hand shoved in in the gap beween where the buttons hold the sides together trying to trap that little beast, but he was easily avoiding my tracking maneuvers. Damn if he didn't bite me and leave a nasty red whelp. I am almost afraid to look too closely at my navel, though, because that little bastard might be hiding down in there waiting to pounce on my face. I think it was a Ninja Spider Mite with a set of Nunchaku.
Wow, I didn't get on the internet all day although I was in front of the computer forever. As I am without my secretary and lost my server, I decided it was time to go back to my previous database program which I liked better than the one for which I subscribed and pay $10 a month that comes with my document compiling program. The database was always crashing and it did not do what I thought it would do anyway, which was that once the information was put in the database, I thought I would not have to put such information when I was compiling documents for such cases. As such, it was really not worth the time or money I spent on it. Of course, the program I like: Act! has more places to put information than the stupid database I decided to dump, but I also had to spend a lot of time to edit several things to get it the way I wanted it. So, I spent all morning redesigning the data entry pages, and then all afternoon going through every file in the top drawer of the file cabinet, I have several piles of files all over my office floor, but I have almost all the active files in the database.
I still need to figure out how to get my laser printer back into the network so that I don't have to waste the ink in the inkjet HP printer. And I really do need to get WinFax back up somehow because I have already gotten several faxes that were printed out that I would have deleted without ever printing. I suppose by the time I get everything back the way I want it, it will be sometime during the end of this month. I am beat though. My eyes are sore from looking at that monitor, but butt is sore from sitting in the chair, my back is sore from leaning forward and my hand is sore from pushing that damn mouse around all day.
I am going to try to come back later to see what people have put up for me to read tonight, but I am not going to promise anyone such. As I said, I am tired. I might fall asleep sitting in my chair watching TV. Then again, there might not be anything worth watching, and I might more alert and be back here soon. Yes, that is the way things are in my life. I never make plans for more than five minutes in the future, bacause things seem to change that fast in my life anymore. ;)
I was just thinking of popping some corn to eat, and when I opened the fridge to get the butter, saw the other half of that pizza I bought yesterday. Already, my dinner plans changed that fast.
Everyone was complaining about last month being such a slow news month that someone proclaimed it Navel Gazing Month. I have found that my visitation rate has dropped rapidly with the beginning of this month. I even tracked how many visitors found my site last through pointers posted in the Cul-de-Sac, the Carnival of the Vanities and the Bonfire of the Vanities and noticed very few hits coming from those link-a-thons.
My regular readership has stayed steady, however, and I am still moving slowly up the ladder in the Blogosphere Ecosystem, but is this another really slow news period? A drop of 25% in daily visitation denotes something. I am just not sure to what it points? Is it me, or is it just the general trend of things? Is this Head Banging Month?
Speaking of the Cul-de-Sac, Kelley has posted this week's plethora of posts to see.
this actually did fit me the best:
My inner child is sixteen years old! Life's not fair! It's never been fair, but while adults might just accept that, I know something's gotta change. And it's gonna change, just as soon as I become an adult and get some power of my own.
How Old is Your Inner Child?
brought to you by Quizilla
I took a gander at my navel and it is still there. Despite the fact that I seemed to have gotten crushed red pepper all over everthing when I accidentally spilled it when I was trying to sprinkle a little on the the pizza I bought for lunch , I did not find any in my navel. How that happened, as it seemed to be all over almost every other part of my body, all over the pizza (more than I wanted on it), all over the chair I was sitting in, and all over the floor in front of the chair I was sitting in, it is a miracle that none found its way in my navel. That might be the only thing that went right today, huh?
Well, I had been thinking of redoing the colors on the site for some time, as I could not find any pictures of light blue ***s. I tried it with orange background which was said to be too bright. I agreed. I had originally tried peachy background, but that was panned, and I really did not like it either, as it was not really ***y enough. I do think the black background looks best, with just enough orange highlights to give it the Tiger feel without being so bright it blinded my readers. I do hope that everyone likes it. I really do read your comments, you know? Although this is my blog, I do try hard to please my readership.
I am sorry I have not posted much today. I had a morning tour at the local wildlife park and did not get home until after noon. I got a pizza and was eating it while watching TV. I started watching the Cowboys game, and my phone rang. It is actually unusual that such happens, as I only have the one line and I am almost always hooked into the Internet when I am home. It was some female who asked if I had an personal ad on Yahoo. I said yes. She said she thought she had recognized my face. It seems she lives locally and was thinking of putting in an ad or something. Anyway, she said she was just looking for someone to go walking with or something. She said she was 40 or somewhere around that age. I told her about my dream of having my own kids and such, and she said she appreciated that. She just suggested we hang out together or something. I found out where she lived and discovered she lived near this cross on this bluff overlooking town and I had always wanted to stand up on that bluff and look down upon the town. So she invited me over and we walked up there just as the sun was setting. I didn't see much, but still it was a great view. Then we went back to her house and just sat out back and talked. About 9:30, her son came by before heading back to college in San Antonio. She asked when he had to leave to go back, and he said something about having about a half hour, so I excused myself and came home.
She was nice and we were having a very intelligent conversation. Of course, she reminded me a lot of my mother. I seldom actually envision myself being as old as I actually am. As my dream is that of someone a decade or more younger than myself, I still see myself as being that age. Of course, my creaking bones and the grey hairs which seem to be cropping up everywhere remind me that I am not 20-something or even early 30-something. I am not sure where this will go. Anyway, I did not blog much today because I was either not here, or I was eating pizza while watching the 3 Stooges or watching the Cowboys play horrendously. Now it is getting close to bedtime on a work night.
I really need to do some laundry.
Venomous Kate has a post about how horrible it is to be an Islamic woman. Please read such, although, it is sickening to read. Although I am sometimes against feminist issues, as I believe we should go back to traditional roles as men and women, I believe women should be treated gently by men. I have actually known a few American Caucasian women who married Islamic men who immigrated to the US, and they told me how horrible their husbands treated them. From what they stated, I was of the opinion the men treated them like animals, not like people. I try to stay neutral in people's religionist beliefs, but George, how can we stand by and allow such an abuse of human rights?
Houston upsets Miami 21-20!
1st Quarter: Dallas Scores, Parcells Smiles! More to Come!
Halftime Update: Score: Cowboys 7 - Falcons 3. Not an offensive showcase on either side.
3rd Quarter: Carter fumbles, Falcons score: Falcons 10 - Cowboys 7. No Cowboy offense, another Falcon Quick Strike: Falcons 17 - Cowboys 7. Falcons close to another score. This is getting ugly!
Fourth Quarter: Cowboys hold Falcons to 3: Falcons 20 - Cowboys 7; Carter to Galloway, 50 yard TD pass, point after blocked Falcons 20 - Cowboys 13 Nothing good follows: Falcons score again, time is running out. On to something else. Can't wait to see what Tuna has to say though.
Yes, I had to wake up much earlier than I wanted because I am signed up for every Sunday morning at our local wildlife park, where I am a docent. I got up groggy, barely had time to take a bath, get dressed and such before I had to leave to get there in time to start the tour. I stopped at the store at the corner, filled up my cup with Dr. Pepper and started on my way. I turned the corner to get to the park and the damn cup fell out of the cup holder right into my lap. Even though it has a lid on it, enough poured out of the straw hole to get my pants wet and run right up my butt crack. What a way to start the day, as I had to sit for three hours on a vinyl seat and entertain people. Oh well. I just got home, changed my underwear, and have a hot pizza and DVD full of 3 Stooges episodes. So, Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk. Be back with you all later. Probably after the Dallas Cowboy game, unless they get so far behind, I decide it is not worth watching to the end. Have great Sunday, unless you are Atlanta Falcon fans, then I hope yours is not all that great, because I am rooting for your team to get beat bad. Are ya ready for some Football?
Well, there was nothing exciting to report about my navel this evening. I mean I gazed and gazed, but there was absolutely nothing different about it worth putting in tonight's report. However, I did find some photographic evidence of a navel at which I would definitely like to take a closer look:
Let's say you are a 58-year-old man who has the pathetic and boring job of delivering newspapers to people's houses and you desparately wish to enliven your life, I think driving around naked is most likely not a good idea.
attribution: CG Hill, who by his own admissions has one-upped me on life experiences. Actually, I never had a paper route either.
I just noticed that the previous post was officially the 1000th post on this blog. George, but what I have posted a lot of crap in the last few months, huh?
I seem to get these type of do you remember lists all the time, and sadly, I do often remember everything in the list. Sure we have the internet, DVDs, microwave ovens and satellite TV, but are things really better than they were in the days of Leave It To Beaver? When I was a kid, there was no need for Amber Alerts, metal detectors in schools, or the multitude of daycare facilities. Kids rode bikes in the streets, played baseball until it was too dark to see, and feared parents and authorities.
What is the root of these changes? Is it that those of my Baby-Boomer generation molly-coddled their children under the tutelage of Dr. Spock that is the root of all that is wrong with our society? Did the lessening of controls over what the media could exhibit contribute to the problem? Did feminism's ideal of the equality of women and their insistence that equality meant the abandonment of quality, at home, supervision of children factor into the dilemma?
I am appalled at visions of 11-year-old girls laying raped in ditches. I am aghast with stories of gangs of young hoodlums shooting up each other and innocents in drive-by shootings. I am sickened at the thought that our children are no longer safe from a multitude of vile predators, both adult and juvenile. I never envisioned in my carefree childhood that the future would hold all the horror it does. I just can't put my finger on why it has to be this way.
I am not sure even Tony S could explain this so that a geek/0™ like me could understand. However, I am going to patiently wait until they perfect such and hope that maybe I can finally get a computer that can keep up with my train of thought. Now, that would be somethin', huh?
[UPDATE: I was just thinking ... if this occurs, would we have to worry about our motherboards getting pregnant?]
attribution: Good Friend Frank
It seems that Owen of Boots and Sabres has taken on the chore of reviewing the entries in this week's New Webblog Showcase. Remember to vote for your favorites.
Regrettably none of them seemed to move me. What's up with that?
Why is that when I look at a picture like this*, my mind automatically thinks of what fun it would be to do 5 to 99 years in prison?
*This picture is currently displayed on the background of a small victory.
I can't seem to find enough energy to get out and do anything. Where is a good kick in the pants when you need one? Well, I am going to have to force myself to get dressed, get in the car, and go do something. I am hungry and there is not a scrap of food in the house to eat. I also have a severe need for some Dr. Pepper to quench my parched throat. Now if I can only find a clean pair of underwear some place.*
*I could get in an accident and have to go to the hospital, you know.
"What I wouldn't give to take that towel off his head* and strangle him with it." - Serenity.
*Yassar Arafat
Because you are on blog*spot and the server seems to be down*. You are still on blog*spot why?
*Of course, this was utter Hell for me because I didn't get my daily annika fix.
Go read the joke in this post at Cathy in the Wright. Then leave her a comment asking her to explain it. ;)
I love when I find things like this animated map of the growth of the United States, with voice over explanations of the causes for the expansion. This is a pure 3rd grade American History lesson available for viewing by the entire world. Who would have ever envisioned something like this happening when I was in 3rd grade? Thanks to Ted of Rocket Jones for sending me there.
No, not in regular political election matters, as I have been a registered voter is such things since the first Reagan election. I have registered to vote and take part in the Blogger's Congress. It does appear there are still several states that are not represented. Do your civic duty as any person who shows enough concern to blog: get ye there and register to vote.
I awakened to the local DJ pondering thusly:
When those commercials say that 4 out of 5 people suffer from diarrhea, does that mean 1 out of 5 people enjoy it?To tell you the truth, I will personally trade a bout of diarrhea for a sustained period of intense constipation anytime.
Well, Cherry posted her favorite from this week's Friday Bad Joke List sent out by her father. Here is my favorite:
Airman Jones was assigned to the induction centre, where he advised new recruits about their government benefits, especially their GI insurance.It wasn't long before Captain Smith noticed that Airman Jones was having a staggeringly high success-rate, selling insurance to nearly 100% of the recruits he advised.
Rather than ask about this, the Captain stood in the back of the room and listened to Jones' sales pitch.
Jones explained the basics of GI Insurance to the new recruits, and then said, "If you have GI Insurance and go into battle and are killed, the government has to pay $200,000 to your beneficiaries. If you don't have GI insurance, and you go into battle and get killed, the government only has to pay a maximum of $6000."
"Now," he concluded, "which group do you think they are going to send into battle first?"
When I finally was able to take a moment for my nightly navel observation, I was shocked to see what appeared to be a strange white powdery residue in and around my navel. I carefully removed a bit of such, put it in a glassine envelope and ran it right over to the FBI lab in Waco. I did think that dark-haired China Springs Cougar fan I met at the sinks in the men's room during the football game looked a bit suspicious and did wonder how he could have bumped into me when there was apparently no reason for having done so. I immediately checked to see if my wallet was still there, and it was, so I just wrote it off as some clumsy guy. Now, I find I have this strange white powdery substance in my navel area. Have I been the victim of a terrorist attack? Has someone placed anthrax on my person? Well, the report finally came back from the FBI lab: powdered sugar. Stupid me! I was eating some Mrs. Baird's powdered donuts while I was taking my shirt off. I guess I had some powdered sugar on my fingers when I unbuttoned those bottom buttons. Thankfully, I will live. I am thinking I will just leave the rest of the substance until tomorrow. It seems to be not doing any harm to my navel and just in case some angel comes to kiss my navel tonight, I will have left a bit of sugar to make that a more pleasant experience.* With such vision, I end tonight's report.
*Actually, this story was entirely made up for your enjoyment.
What? You don't know? Roxette Bunny™, now having a blog of her own over in the Munu universe.
Thanks to Susie for the head's up.
OK, time to get comfortable, put your feet up and get ready for another glimpse into the life of your old friend Wicked Willie.
Wicked Willie lives on the upper floor of a lavish mansion on a secluded estate. Once the leader of the free world, he fell from grace as the woman who stood behind him walked over his back on her climb to success. Now a mere disbarred attorney, he is often left alone, with just the company of Stu and Benji, his two federally-assigned bodyguards. He just sits around playin' pocket pool, and allows his thoughts to drift on some of the more important things in life. Here are his thoughts. Maybe you will get a chuckle or two and maybe you will even agree with parts of what he has to say.Episode No. 10Friday, September 5, 2003
I am sendin' this in from sunny California: the land of movie stars, swimmin' pools and Hollywood. They do seem to be a bit short of skanks out here, though, as most of the gals here done been to the detail shop, where they were inflated, airbrushed and dyed to resemble that fabled Barbie Doll. But enough with the bimbo report, let me tell ya why I am in California.
It seems that my good friend Gray Davis is in a bigger pickle that I was when I was caught with my willie in Monica's mouth, so to speak. He is scramblin' for his political career and thought as I probably had the most experience diggin' myself out of a political morass that I might be able to advise him as to how to save his butt from bein' kicked out to the curb.
I guess I was so busy playin' with my willie that I had not really kept up with the recall fiasco, but man if every man, woman, and nut case in California is not runnin' for the governor's seat. I am not quite sure what caused this fiasco to come into play, because the economy sucks all over, and we know it is the fault of the current leader of the free world. And the power problems were part of a Right Wing Conspiracy to make the Democrats look bad. It is surely not like he got caught with his willie hangin' out. For a Democrat, Gray Davis is a choir boy.
I assessed the situation and decided maybe the choir boy thin' was the problem. I pulled Gary into the corner and said, Look Gary, you are in some deep shit here and it is time to play hardball. Tell the people of California that you are gay. You know how these people love gay people. No way they are gonna vote a gay man out of office. It is totally un-Californian.
Gray looked at me strangely after I gave him that information. Are ya sure? he asked.
I am as sure of that as Al Gore is that he invented the Internet.
OK, then, if you say to tell ‘em that I am gay, I am gonna tell ‘em that I am gay. Thanks Bill.
With that situation solved, I went down to Hollywood and Vine lookin' for a good skanky woman to give my willie a workout. I thought I was doin' pretty good with one of them, but Stu and Benji, with their damn crew cuts, blue coats and shined shoes seemed to make most of them uneasy. I finally gave up and came back to the room. As Gray is pickin' up the tab, I think I will stay another night or two here at the Beverly Hilton. Say, wasn't that Arnold Schwarzenegger? I wonder if he would give me his autograph? I really liked him in those RoboCop movies.
Well, I wish I had a good ride, so ya'll come on back here if'n ya need what I got to give, ya hear?
Small town Friday night means High School Football. Of course, as I have mentioned previously, our local team is named the ***s, and that is one reason why I started going using my childhood nickname when I moved here. I went to the game tonight because my friend's 1st grade daughter was part of the a special half-time show. The little girls from the summer flag camp performed with the High School flag team. It was a great show. Both bands also performed magnificently. Half-time alone was worth the $5 admission price. Too bad I had to watch the first half of the football game to see it, though. Our local teams offensive play was atrocious, seriously atrocious. First half offense: two fumbles, two interceptions, two total first downs. Half-time score: 31-0. I decided that the offense had not shown any capacity to move the ball forward. I was too depressed to hang around for another half of utter ineptitude by the boys in Red & White. I can catch the final score when the local rag comes out on Wednesday, if necessary.
What I had to eat during the first half: Frito pie and Dr. Pepper, then popcorn and water, finally an order of french fries. I didn't realize how hungry I get when I get depressed. ;)
I thought surely there was something of interest in this post, and yet I find absolutely no sign anyone even read it. Was it overlooked in the plethora of posting I do on some occasions?
Well, my clock radio blared off at the same time as usual this morning and awoke me telling me I've got to do something that I have no way of doing, and it pains me that I can't. Yes, here was Charley Pride saying to me: You've got to kiss an angel Good Morning and love her like the Devil when you get back home. However, that requires an angel, and I am still searching for an angel. How depressing.
Then I visit michele, as usual, and find her making a statement like this:
Have we changed? Sure we have. Mostly, our children have changed. We may not notice it now, but we will later. Their world is different than it was two years ago. Their future is different.Of course, she is talking about the post 9/11 world we now live in. I was just wondering, though, is this event less traumatic than the post-bomb world of my youth. I mean are they making little kids crawl up under their desks in preparation of nuclear attacks? Do children fear seeing the flash of a nuclear explosion? It seems those fears have greatly subsided in the modern world.
I think maybe older Americans were not as traumatized by 9/11 as were the children who had grown up with some sense of security. I suspect that people in my age group, while appalled, were already aware that you can never prepare for tragedy or the senseless destruction of large groups of people through the wanton acts of other people.
Hmmm, I was just looking at it. I again noticed the surrounding soft ring of hair and thought it looked a bit fuzzy. Does that mean I have a fuzzy navel? Hmmm, maybe I need to start collecting royalties every time someone orders one of those from a bartender.
Actually, I had a rather disturbing navel experience earlier today. If you read my earlier entries, you probably saw where I went to Fry's this morning. Well, usually whenever I go to Fry's, I always stop and get something to eat at one of my favorite fast food places, Taco Bueno.* I was afraid I would be late for court, so I got something to go: 5 party tacos. I get the party tacos when I am going to have to eat while driving, because they are smaller and don't bust up as much as those Two Handed Tacos which are quite impossible to eat while driving. I mean you really need one hand on the wheel, don't you? Anyway, somewhere in the middle of munching down the third taco, a bit of the taco shell broke off, somehow managed to get through my buttoned shirt and got right into my navel. Shards of taco shells often have sharp edges, and this shard was definitely sharp. I almost had a wreck trying to extricate that damn little taco shell shard from my navel. It was really difficult to do so holding the uneaten remains of the taco in one hand and keeping the other hand on the steering wheel. Thankfully, I hit a red light, and in the interim was able to remove that tiny, very pain causing, shard of broken taco shell from my delicate navel. Except for my traumatic memories of the event, the navel is none the worse for the ordeal. Such ends tonight's report.
*Taco Bueno has recently remodeled most of its stores from the traditional adobe look to this chrome and formica look that I call the California mode. I do not like the new look as well, and I especially hate the artwork that they display in the newly designed stores. They have these paintings which all have a building that closely resembles the Alamo, and over this building there are two flags flying: The US flag and the Mexican flag. I view this as some kind of slap against the Texans who died defending the Alamo by the artist. If they didn't make the absolute best tacos, I would probably boycott their stores for that transgression.
Yes, it is true, LeeAnn of The Cheese Stands Alone has joined the Munuvians. Am I the only one who has not moved to that universe? If I didn't already have my own server space, I would be glad to be among that bunch. Damn, now I have to make another adjustment to my blogroll. You need to also. The new link to The Cheese Stands Alone is http://themonkeyboylovescheese.mu.nu/
Someone has actually drafted a pre-coital agreement. Beware of vulgarity terms.
attribution: InstaPundit
[UPDATE: I also would never have dreamed that anyone would shove a lit firecracker up their ass, either.
attribution: Kelley]
OK, time to get comfortable, put your feet up and get ready for another glimpse into the life of your old friend Wicked Willie.
Wicked Willie lives on the upper floor of a lavish mansion on a secluded estate. Once the leader of the free world, he fell from grace as the woman who stood behind him walked over his back on her climb to success. Now a mere disbarred attorney, he is often left alone, with just the company of Stu and Benji, his two federally-assigned bodyguards. He just sits around playin' pocket pool, and allows his thoughts to drift on some of the more important things in life. Here are his thoughts. Maybe you will get a chuckle or two and maybe you will even agree with parts of what he has to say.Episode No. 9Thursday, September 4, 2003
What a strange ordeal that was that I went through yesterday. Heck, I never did get a hold of Dr. Elders, so just had to go down to the local hospital's Emergency Room. The doctor's checked me out and could not find the source of the pain, so admitted me to do some testing. I was poked and prodded and stuck with more needles than I could count. What was funny was that the pain subsided soon after I left the house. I guess they checked my blood pressure about 20 times. The nurse said it was unusually high, but then I can almost bet she had never experienced pain in her groined like bein' kicked in the nads about 20 times either. I suspect that would anyone's blood pressure go through the roof. It was a pain goin' through all of that. Of course, the worst part of the entire situation was when that damn proctologist decided he had better check that place where the sun has never shone, and talk about a pain in the ass, the whole experience was literally such. It felt like he blew my asshole up to the size of a balloon, and then I think he stuck his whole damned hand up there. I was silently screaming the whole time. I think I would rather be kicked in the nads 20 times than have to go through that again.
Anyway, everything checked out all right by the time the tests were over. Of course, by that time, it was almost bed time for me. I did try to talk one of two of that really skanky nurses to give me a sponge bath, but none of them was going to go there, it seems. I cannot understand that. Heck, when I was the leader of the free world, I could snap my fingers and some gal would drop to her knees and give my most vital part a tongue bath if I asked her to do so. Now I can't even get some skanky nurse to wash my willie with a sponge.
By the time I got home, Hil had already left. I searched the house for that doll, but never did locate it. Too bad, because I wanted to rub on the bulge again. For some reason, the seemed to be so exciting, I wanted to give it another try. I just wonder where that doll went. Surely Hil didn't decide to take back her gift?
Hil did call me a bit later. She said she had gone to New York City to assist Puddin' move into her new apartment. It seems my baby had gone to Spain with some young man and now is moving in with him. Hil said Puddin' got a job too. She is working for some consulting firm which is going to pay her $120,000.00 a year. I don't know which one of us Puddin' takes after the most, me because she doesn't really seem to know shit anything, or her mother, because she doesn't seem to know shit about anything but someone is stupid enough to pay her for not knowing shit about anything anyway. One thing is for sure, she is our child.
My nads a still a bit sore today. I am still not sure what the problem was, but I am pretty sure I never want to go through that again, ever! I am thinking I will just stay in and rest today. I really ought to go down to the city and help Hil move Puddin' into her new apartment, but I would probably be in the way, as usual. I can probably help them more by just staying here.
Well, I wish I had a good ride, so ya'll come on back here if'n ya need what I got to give, ya hear?
Everyone has probably already heard this, but it seems that Jen Speaks is required reading for a college course at Florida State Unversity. Congratualtions Jen!
Whew, was today ever a busy day. I had a morning docket that was postponed to this afternoon, so I decided to run up to Fry's to get the power supply to fix my server. No problem, just three hours of time, one hour to drive up, one hour to get the part and look to see if there was anything else I needed*, and one hour to drive back. Then I was at court for about 3 hours this afternoon. I got back to the office at about 4:00, had enough time to check my email, then started to work on the server, then had a meeting for the notClark County Republican Club which just ended. So, sorry about not having posted much today. I have tried, when I had time to check a few of the blogs I saw updated and for some reason, I bookmarked a couple stories that I found interesting. Why I have forgotten whose blogs sent me to the stories, I have no idea. I am going to apologize for not attributing them to such bloggers.
The first story has to do with Universal Music Group, the world's largest record company, cutting their prices on CDs. The reason I bookmarked the story is because of this:
Starting in October, Universal . . . will trim its prices on most of its CDs to $12.98 . . . .and then the very next sentence in the story says this:
"Our research shows that the sweet spot is to sell our records below $12.98," said Universal Music president Zach Horowitz.I don't know, maybe they are not all that great at math, but $12.98 is not below $12.98. Uh, according to your research, the price should be $12.97, right?
The second story is about the Department of Defense planning to have some events to commemorate** the terrorist attack on 9/11/01. I keep seeing stories about the media has no plans to do so, but that does not mean that America has forgotten. Of course, michele has a great place to see stories that people have contributed about how such event affected them and others called Voices. I applaud her for all of her work on such site and thank her for coming up with such a great idea. This story reminded me that I had not posted anything about such yet.
If I regularly read your blog, and I regularly read all blogs on my blogroll, and you posted a link to either of these stories today, then feel free to take credit for leading me to such story. I am just sorry I have not publicly credited you for doing so.
*I found that I needed this thing called a USB drive, which is a little thing about the size of a pocket knife that you can use to save data on and transfer to another computer. Oh, and I really needed another cheap optical mouse that I hope lasts longer than the last cheap one I bought that ceased to work correctly after about two weeks. I almost needed a DVD burner, but felt I didn't need it that bad at that price.
**Commemorating the event seems weird to me. I want to remember the tragedy, but do I really want to commemorate it? The word and the connotations surrounding the word just seem wrong for some reason.
Well, I awoke with some kind of massive headache. Yea!!! [not] What a week. Two days of massive court docket days down and one to go. Tomorrow, or maybe later today, I have got to make a trip to Fry's to get a power supply, and maybe a graphic adapter to see if I can get a couple of these computers working. At least I was pleased to see that while I caught up on my sleep, no one was reading my blog. I would surely have hated to miss that. Yes, light blogging warning for today. Oh, Stevie ... if I start talking to my navel, won't people think I am crazy? ;)
Isn't that the disease where you just seem to fall asleep without warning? Well, actually I probably don't have that as these yawns seem to be warning me that I am about to fall asleep. I am unsure why I am so utterly tired today, but I am. I am going to call it an early night.
OK, time to get comfortable, put your feet up and get ready for another glimpse into the life of your old friend Wicked Willie.
Wicked Willie lives on the upper floor of a lavish mansion on a secluded estate. Once the leader of the free world, he fell from grace as the woman who stood behind him walked over his back on her climb to success. Now a mere disbarred attorney, he is often left alone, with just the company of Stu and Benji, his two federally-assigned bodyguards. He just sits around playin' pocket pool, and allows his thoughts to drift on some of the more important things in life. Here are his thoughts. Maybe you will get a chuckle or two and maybe you will even agree with parts of what he has to say.Episode No. 8Wednesday, September 3, 2003
I awoke this mornin' with no strange dreams, no slammin' door, no footsteps runnin' down the hall and no woody. Maybe I should have taken such as a warnin' that today was goin' to be a bizarre day. It was not long after I got up and dressed and was goin' to give Heather a call, when the limo pulled up out front and Hil emerged. She urged Stu and Benji out of the guard house, that small two story, 1500 square foot enclosure on the other side of the drive we had built to house them. Thankfully, my former employers, the taxpayers saw fit to foot the bill. I am unemployed currently and the cost of such a project was insurmountable to someone with my financial difficulties.
Anyway, I went down to meet Hil in the foyer to give her the what for. I mean she went off on a Caribbean junket and left me home to fend for myself. Of course, bein' home alone, I actually would not mind havin' just had to fend off a roomful of naked skanks. Too bad that didn't happen, huh?
Well, before I could jump down her throat for leavin' me behind, she opens her suitcase and says she brought me something. It had better be good, I thought. So out she comes with this doll. A damned doll. But it looked like me. Someone had made a doll that looked like me, and they did a pretty good job of it. But it was bald on top. Hil said she had given the artist a picture of me to work from, but no one in the area had any hair that was quite like mine. The artist had told her to just clip a bit off of my head and glue it on. Hil said please, and I thought, sure, why not. It looked like me, and of course, I am cute. So with a bit of my hair, I would have a cute doll that looked like me to play with. Hil had the maid bring the scissors and she trimmed just a bit of hair from right over my left ear. Stu went to fetch the SuperGlue and Hil pasted it on so expertly, the bald doll transformed into a mini-me.
She handed it to me, and told me to go put it up some place. I brought it up straight to my room and sat on the bed just lookin' at it. It was so damn cute. I noticed it had a big bulge in the little pants that had been sewn onto the doll's body, and I touched it. Almost magically I felt a pleasin' sensation on my willie. I rubbed the bulge a bit more and my willie felt so good. It began to grow to a very excited state and soon I had an enormous woody. I stroked that bulge on the doll and experienced the most pleasant sensations in my woody willie, I just kept doin' it and doin' it and the sensations I felt were overwhelming. I got so excited, I dropped the doll.
I awoke up several hours later and began to look around for that doll. What had happened? I never did find that doll, though. I crawled down on my hands and knees and looked up under the bed. Ouch, damn, that hurt. It felt like someone had kicked me in the nads. Ouch, there it is again. Where is that doll? I want to play with it some more. Ouch! Damn, maybe I ought to get to the doctor and find out why I am gettin' these strange pains in the nads all of a sudden. Now where was that number for Dr. Elders? I like that gal, she is not only skanky, but she understands the need to wank your willie. Ouch. Someone get me a phone. Ouch!
Well, I wish I had a good ride, so ya'll come on back here if'n ya need what I got to give, ya hear?
I do not remember where or when I first heard someone say "Hey, is that where the Indian shot you?" when poking me in my exposed navel, but surely someone did. I do this regularly to children. It delights some, frightens some, and some just argue with you about having not been shot there by any Indians. Now I am wondering if it is politically correct to make such a reference when poking children's navels. Maybe I should say "Is that where the Evil* Iranian Islamic Mullah shot you?" from now on. I don't think there is a group of Evil Iranian Islamic Mullah's standing around ready to complain at such reference, is there? As for me, my navel was not shot today by an Evil Iranian Islamic Mullah or an Indian. It appears to be in fine shape, sitting quietly in the center of my too round belly. Having done my service to the BLOG-IRAN Grassroots Campaign for the day, and maybe my lifetime, as you know how vindictive those Evil Iranian Islamic Mullahs can be, I hereby end tonight's report.
*Evil is definitely the operative word in this phrase, as I would not want to offend those Saintly Iranian Islamic Mullahs.
Put on your duds, shine your shoes, and let's all go over to Rhetorica for the Carnival of the Vanities. After we have had our fill of fun there, we can all meet over at Kevin's place and dance around the Bonfire of the Vanities. Be sure to bring your own marshmallows and weenies.
The punny punchline of this SilverBlue joke cracked me up!
OK, now I know summer is officially over. For the first time in months, I woke up and didn't want to crawl out from under the covers because the house was chilly. That has not occured since the middle of May.
This was left as a comment to Wicked Willie™ Episode No. 8:
Dear Compatriots -There!Please join up with bloggers around the world in defense of the Iranian people against a Fanatic Islamic Terrosit Dictatorial regime with BLOG-IRAN Grassroots Campaign. If it's something you would be interested in please visit http://www.activistchat.com/blogiran/
Hope to hear from you!!!!
In Unity,
Haleh
Are there any of you who have not already seen this message somewhere while you were blogging? Has the message not gotten out to everyone already? Does it really have anything to do with what was posted in Wicked Willie™ Episode No. 8? Is Haleh aware that no one even reads those Wicked Willie™ posts? And what in the f**k is a Terrosit anyway?
[UPDATE: I was just thinking. Are we sure that we want to commit a huge US/British/Austrailan presence into this BLOG-IRAN Grassroots Campaign until we have consulted with the French/German/Canadians for approval and assistance in such effort? Maybe we should put it up for a UN vote. I surely don't want to be accused of being an Aggressive Imperialist American Blogger and has invaded Iranian bandwidth and occupied such as a foreign presence.]
OK, time to get comfortable, put your feet up and get ready for another glimpse into the life of your old friend Wicked Willie.
Wicked Willie lives on the upper floor of a lavish mansion on a secluded estate. Once the leader of the free world, he fell from grace as the woman who stood behind him walked over his back on her climb to success. Now a mere disbarred attorney, he is often left alone, with just the company of Stu and Benji, his two federally-assigned bodyguards. He just sits around playin' pocket pool, and allows his thoughts to drift on some of the more important things in life. Here are his thoughts. Maybe you will get a chuckle or two and maybe you will even agree with parts of what he has to say.Episode No. 7Tuesday, September 2, 2003
Well, I had another vivid dream last night, but didn't hear a door slam or anyone runnin' down the hall when I awoke. The sheets were still coverin' me, but I didn't need to see the tent to know I had another good woody willie this morning. I also needed to wizz so bad, and you guys know how hard it is to wizz when your willie is a woody, doncha? Them skanks will never get the idea about that, I betcha.
Anyway, after I finally finished my wizz, and you would think I drank a damn swimmin' pool for as long as it took to drain my bladder this morning, I decided to go check out what that lovely maid was doing. Guess what I saw? She was hangin' all over Stu like he was tree she wanted to climb. I mean she had an arm around his shoulder and one leg wrapped around him. I guess if'n she was the one in my room yesterday mornin', that gal needs a lot of male attention. Now if she was just a bit more skanky, I might hire someone to get rid of that cold-hearted skank I am married to, you know the one, that bitch that ran off to the Caribbean with some guy or gal or animal or something, the one who ain't give me none for like 12 years. She ain't even called to check up on me. I could be lyin' here dead and she wouldn't even know it.
I wonder where Benji is? I hardly saw hide nor hair of him yesterday. In fact, neither he nor Benji was around much at all. I wasn't really lookin' for them all that much, as I knew them skanks wasn't gonna be practicin' down at the Prep School down the hill, and besides, I was just hangin' around the room, hopin' that maid would sneak back in to finish what she had started before I woke up and startled her. A man does have needs, you know? A man needs a woman that understands his needs and is ready to do what it takes, right? Damn, that Hil! After all I done for that skank, lettin' her ride my coattails up the ladder of success, and she cuts me off. I think if she didn't know how to charm big bucks out of lobbyists and campaign contributors, I would have offed her right after she decided she didn't want to take care of my needs anymore. When was that? Sometime right after that damn Jennifer Flowers blabbed about me and her doing, what was it again. It must not have been all that good or I wouldn't have forgotten what we did. Where did I leave her number? I ought to call her up and tell her to come over here and do it again. I bet that would refresh my memory. Damn, here comes my woody again.
Well, I guess I will sit here and make a decision. Either I go see if I can drag that maid off of Stu, call up Heather, or wank my willie. Oops, did I hear the door? Damn, I think Hil is back. Why did she have to come back and ruin all my fun? It sure ain't like she is gonna be any part of me havin' any fun anymore.
Well, I wish I had a good ride, so ya'll come on back here if'n ya need what I got to give, ya hear?
Tonight's report is going to be a bit different, mainly because of a lack of interest. No, not a lack of interest in you who come daily to read the report, but a lack of interest I seem to have in even gazing at my navel this evening. I am plumb worn out and the effort I would have to mount just to raise my shirt tail enough to expose my navel for observation is more than I can muster at the moment. Now, if I could only find an opportunity to closely examine some navels like those displayed in the extended entry, I bet I would become instantly alert. This one is for Tony S.!
Hey, I got some great stuff in my mail today from my favorite Aunt Jeanette. Everyone seemed to love what I posted last time she sent me something. I hope these are as well received. Of course, I am going to admit, I did not even bother to check the authenticity of this information, but I can see no reason why someone would have made this stuff up:
[UPDATE: Oh well, according to the comments, someone made this stuff up. Isn't there enough truthful stuff to spread around without people making up stuff like this? Of course, as far as actual harm, I guess it is better than sitting at home and creating viruses, huh?]
Entertainers of the past The Entertainers of 2003 have been in all of the news media lately. it seems News Paper, Television and Radio has been more than ready to put them and their message before the public. I would like to remind the people of what the entertainers of 1943 were doing, (60 years ago). Most of these brave men have since passed on.
Alec Guinness (Star Wars) operated a British Royal Navy landing craft on D-Day. James Doohan ("Scotty" on Star Trek) landed in Normandy with the U.S. Army on D-Day. Donald Pleasance (The Great Escape) really was a R.A.F. pilot who was shot down, held prisoner and tortured by the Germans. David Niven was a Sandhurst graduate and Lt. Colonel of the British Commandos in Normandy. James Stewart flew 20 missions as a B-24 pilot in Europe. Clark Gable (Mega-Movie Star when war broke out) was a waist gunner flying missions on a B-17 in Europe. Charlton Heston was an Army Air Corps Sergeant in Kodiak. Earnest Borgnine was a U.S. Navy Gunners Mate 1935-1945. Charles Durning was a U.S. Army Ranger at Normandy. Charles Bronson was a tail gunner in the Army Air Corps. George C. Scott was a U.S. Marine. Eddie Albert (Green Acres TV) was awarded a Bronze Star for his heroic action as a U.S. Naval officer aiding Marines at the horrific battle on the island of Tarawa in the Pacific Nov. 1943. Brian Keith served as a Marine rear gunner in several actions against the Japanese on Rabal in the Pacific. Lee Marvin was a marine on Saipan[*] when he was wounded. John Russell was a Marine on Guadalcanal. Robert Ryan was a U.S. Marine who served with the O.S.S. in Yugoslavia. Tyrone Power (an established movie star when Pearl Harbor was bombed) joined the Marines, was a pilot flying supplies into, and wounded Marines out of Iwo Jima and Okinawa. Audie Murphy, little guy from Texas, Most Decorated serviceman of WWII. I wish I had room to tell you more about Actor Sterling Hayden and an actor by the name of Peter J. Ortiz (Twelve O'clock High, Rio Grande and The Wings of Eagles), but this would turn into a book.
There is quite a huge gap between the heroics and patriotism in 1943 and the cowardly despicable posturing of the Hollywood crowd of today...all of which smack of sedition and treason. Think about this every time you are tempted to go to the movies or go to a concert!!
Captain Kangaroo turned 75 last year, which is odd, because he's never looked a day under 75. (Birthday 6/27/27.) It reminded me of the following story.
Some people have been a bit offended that Lee Marvin is buried in a grave alongside 3 and 4 star generals at Arlington National Cemetery. His marker gives his name, rank (PVT) and service(USMC). Nothing else. Here's a guy who was only a famous movie star who served his time, why the heck does he rate burial with these guys? Well, following is the amazing answer:
I always liked Lee Marvin, but did not know the extent of his Corps experiences. In a time when many Hollywood stars served their country in the armed forces, often in rear-echelon posts where they were carefully protected, only to be trotted out to perform for thecameras in war bond promotions, Lee Marvin was a genuine hero. He won the Navy Cross at Iwo Jima. There is only one higher Naval award ... the Medal Of Honor.
If that is a surprising comment on the true character of the man, he credits his sergeant with an even greater show of bravery.Dialog from The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson:
His guest was Lee Marvin. Johnny said, "Lee, I'll bet a lot of people are unaware that you were a Marine in the initial landing at Iwo Jima ...and that during the course of that action you earned the Navy Cross and were severely wounded."Lee Marvin replied -- "Yeah, yeah... I got shot square in the behind and they gave me the Cross for securing a hot spot about halfway up Suribachi... bad thing about getting shot up on a mountain is guys gettin' shot hauling you down. But Johnny, at Iwo I served under the bravest man I ever knew... We both got the Cross the same day, but what he did for his Cross made mine look cheap in comparison. He actually stood up on Red beach and directed his troops to move forward and get off the beach. That Sergeant and I have been life long friends.
When they brought me off Suribachi we passed the Sergeant and he lit a smoke and passed it to me lying on my belly on the litter and said, "Where'd they get you Lee?" I said "Well, Bob ... if you make it home before me, tell Mom to sell the outhouse !' And Johnny, I'm not lying... Sergeant Keeshan was the bravest man I ever knew..... Bob Keeshan.....You and the world know him as Captain Kangaroo."
IT'S A SHAME THE HOLLYWOOD STARS WE KNOW TODAY DON'T SHINE TODAY LIKE THEY DID IN THE GOOD OLD DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*The second story says he was wounded on Iwo Jima. I am unsure if they are one and the same, but I am pretty sure they are two different islands.
I apologize that I have not done my regular blog visits for today. As you can tell from the posts I did over the day, I had some major problems which took up a lot of my time. If you posted something really spectacular that you want to make sure I don't miss, please feel free to post a link to it in a comment to this post and I will make sure I find time to see it. I hope you will please forgive me for having been distracted by urgent matters in my real life that kept me from spending the usual enormous amounts of time I require to read your blogs and writing crap on mine. If you didn't get your daily quota of crap today, I will sadly take the blame. You are now free to return to your regularly scheduled program. We* thank you for your support.
*Hey, whichever one of you that left your mouse behind, he seems to be in my pocket.
My friend that was assisting me with the computer problems runs the store not too far from my house. He has a police scanner on all the time, and if something is happening around town, nearly everyone knows about it pretty quickly. We have a Volunteer Fire Department, the headquarters of which is just on the other side on my neighbor's house. I mean it is almost next door to me. Once today, I heard a call: "This is a non-emergency call. I just wanted to remind everyone that the fish fry is starting at 6:00 at [location]." I ask my friend what that is all about. He says they are holding a fish fry for all the members of the Volunteer Fire Department. I am not sure who they are, but no one gets paid, as far as I know, who are members of the Volunteer Fire Department. Heck, surely the members deserve a fish fry, huh?
Well, later, I hear someone say "Thanks for inviting us." My friend says, "Oh, that why the Care Flights were here. They must have been invited to the fish fry." Care Flight, if you don't know, are the helicopters who fly people out from our small town to Ft. Worth or Dallas when there is some medical problem our country hospital cannot handle, which is about anything more major than a broken leg or something. We hear them all the time, as someone always seems to have a heart attack or some other problem where they need to be rushed to the major city hospitals. I am not sure how many different helicopters flew down for the fish fry, but I know it was at least two. Now I am wondering who paid for that fuel. Those helicopters use a lot of fuel, you know. I just wonder if they did? I am now just a bit more curious about who they are.
OK, I was somewhat lucky. It seems my friend still had the computer I had given him, and he had not completely reconfigured it for the use he was going to use it for and it was not in use. So, we took the hard drive out of the fragged one, put it in the old one, changed the modem and ethernet cards so that the OS would recognize them, as the old one was a Pentium 200mz, just a bit better than a 386 AT computer. I had to find an old AT keyboard to use, and it will not recognize my PS2 mouse with serial adapter, so I have no mouse and it will not seem to tab around so I can hot key anything. We had to take a part from another computer, because for some reason the parallel port was gone. However, I can now access my calendar and my files. I guess WinFax will work, but I will not be able to see what I get until I get a mouse to work, it seems, and my printer works through the network. I am in better shape than I was this morning. I am likely going to make a trip to Fry's tomorrow or Thursday, if I can find time, so I can get another power supply and try to get the other one fixed. At least I can get some work done tomorrow. Now the only thing I have to think about is whether to rehire my secretary. She called me today, asking if I had hired anyone yet. I told her to drop by tomorrow and we could talk. Now all I have to do is think about what I want to do.
OK, it seems the power supply on the system is fried. The switch checked out, but the fan on the power supply seemed to have frozen up while I was gone and it most likely burned out. That is about as far as we can tell. I have a system here at the house that I suspected had a memory problem, so I took the memory out of the other system and put it in the one here. It won't connect to the monitor, so I have no way of knowing whether the memory fixed the problem. I am not sure why the monitor is not recognized. That might be a CMOS problem. More research. The one thing I accomplished was putting my old monitor on this system to make sure it was not a monitor problem, so the heck with the flat screen. I would rather have the big bulky case and the high resolultion capabilities than the extra space and be stuck with 600x800.
It really seems easier sometimes to just scrap these old non-working systems and get new ones. The way the prices have dropped, you can get a superior system to whatever you have for not all that much money. Mostly it has to do with transferring data more than anything else. Of course, right now, I don't have any extra money. I think maybe I will just start burning all user files straight to CD. Sheesh, I hate this!
George! Computers, computers, computers! I love 'em for what they do, but damn, they are not like any other appliance you can buy. If my TV quits working, I can just go buy another TV. No loss except for the expense of the new TV. I walked into the office this morning and one of my computers was just sitting dead. The electricity must have gone off over the weekend I thought*, so I was just going to restart it. It would not start. I press the switch and no lights, no whir, no power is going in. I have been tinkering with it for an hour or more, but still no power. I have two other computers here at the office, so it would not be that much of a problem except .... the dead one is my network server. It is where all of the files are stored: all of the documents I have created for cases and my calendar. Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggghh! I am most likely going to have to remove the hard drive and put it in one of the other systems just to recover the data. I am not sure where I am going to come up with another computer to replace that one. I gave away its predecessor six months ago. I now wish I hadn't.
[UPDATE: My friend, the one to whom I gave the old system has a new case with a new switch and power supply, so I am going to take this system to his place and he is going to put it in the new case. Hopefully that will fix the problem. I will let ya'll know if it works.]
*This was wrong, however, as both of the other two computers were on and were fully operational. This one would not have rebooted after the electricity reset.
I just heard on the radio that they are asking for dove hunters in Texas to report any pieces of Columbia found during their treks while hunting. It seems that more than 60% of Columbia is still missing. It is amazing that so much of it has still not been found.
Anna has found something you have got to see.
For those of you who are regular readers of the Nightly Navel Gazing Report™, you might have seen several wish for something a bit more substantial in such reports. As such, always eager to please my patrons, I have provided a visual for tonight's report. If it be your pleasure to take a visual gander at the condition of my navel this evening, please feel free to venture into the extended entry.* If not, avoid, at all costs, venturing into the extended entry. Having informed you of your choices, I now conclude tonight's report.
[Update: This post was composed a lot earlier than posted, and I have learned that Susie had a hard day at work. I hope this posting assists her in some small way.]
*Should anyone choose to link to this site, I urge you to provide a warning about the graphic nature of the display. We would not want unsuspecting eyes to unknowingly find a graphic display of the attributes of my navel, would we?
OK, time to get comfortable, put your feet up and get ready for another glimpse into the life of your old friend Wicked Willie.
Wicked Willie lives on the upper floor of a lavish mansion on a secluded estate. Once the leader of the free world, he fell from grace as the woman who stood behind him walked over his back on her climb to success. Now a mere disbarred attorney, he is often left alone, with just the company of Stu and Benji, his two federally-assigned bodyguards. He just sits around playin' pocket pool, and allows his thoughts to drift on some of the more important things in life. Here are his thoughts. Maybe you will get a chuckle or two and maybe you will even agree with parts of what he has to say.Episode No. 6Monday, September 1, 2003
Wow, it seems to have been a few days since I reported what had occurred in my life. First of all, my suspicions about what Hil has been up to of late are highly aroused. Oh, I like sayin' highly aroused, it just gives me goose bumps to think about bein' highly aroused. Oops, let me get my mind back on the subject at hand, Hil and her hijinks. I just found that the Senate was not even in session durin' the last few days of last week. Nope, I found out that Hil had gone off to some Caribbean island on some junket supposedly financed by some lobbyist. That is just wrong! It is not like I didn't let her accompany me on every trip I took when I was in the Big House. Heck, she was even in on the thin' between Monica and me. Hil wanted to videotape it, but Monica got a bit squeamish when the camera came around. Well, anyway, I think Hil is up to something, and it sure ain't tryin' to give me some. She ain't been up to givin' me some in a long time. I bet she is givin' some to somebody down on that island. I just bet she is.
Well, I was glad when Heather finally made it the other day. I told Stu and Benji that she was here to take dictation, but I am quite sure they knew what kind of dictation she was taking. That was about the sweetest dictation I have experienced in a long while. In fact, I am not too sure she didn't take dictation much better than Monica, or even Hil back when she was up for takin' a bit of dictation from me every once in a while.
Yesterday was kind of a down day. I was pretty spent from havin' gotten every penny of that grand I handed over to Heather for the quality time she expended with me. I pretty well hung around the house and watched some football and stuff. Stu and Benji hung around and watched it with me. I didn't even catch Benji eyein' my ass or anythin' all day. It was just like three regular guys all hangin' around and drinkin' beer, rootin' on their favorite team. Of course, it was not all fun and games, because In the first game I was rootin' for Colorado State and they were both rootin' for Colorado. It looked at the end of the first half like Colorado had won, but those scrappers from Colorado State almost came back and I was a hootin' and a hollerin' like somethin', I don't know what. But in the end, they just did not have enough, They lost it by 35-42. Then came the Arkansas State - Texas A&M game and was that a strange game. Arkansas State just moved the ball up and down the field but could never punch it in. Again, right at the end, it looked like my boys from Arkansas State could possibly come back, but they faltered, final score 26-11, but the game was closer than that.
Yesterday I just sat around and caught up on some correspondence. Tony Blair wanted to know how I was and what I thought about the war in Iraq. I couldn't let him know I had supported GWB's actions in goin' in. It was not the party line. I just had to hem and haw about how it had bogged down, how it looked like the administration had bit off more'n it could chew and how it was all a big mistake not to get a bit more international support and doin' a bit more plannin' before goin' in. I wanted so badly to tell him that I wished I had thought of goin' to war against Iraq. Maybe then I would go down in History as a President that did something, instead of the President who got a blowjob. I wrote a letter to Chirac, the head of France. I told him how unfair it was that everyone was jumpin' on France for havin' done the right thing. I finished that letter, I had writers' cramp so took a rest. I went to go check on the boys and they was arguin' about why they had missed the MTV Awards. Seems there was some skank mouth kissin' between Madonna and Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera. I think Benji said somethin' ‘bout missin' seeing Jason Timberlake's fine ass or somethin' like that, but Stu shushed him when I got close. Them tellin' me about them skanks doin' all that mouth kissin' got me to fantacizin' all day about them three skanks. What I could do with a skank threesome like that. Heck I might need to swallow a dozen Viagras again. I just got up in my room and dreamed of the four of us rollin' around on the bed and stuff, and finally just could not stand it a moment longer and had to wank the willie a bit.
I was havin' the weirdest dream right before I woke this morning. I was dreamin' Monica was here and was swallowin' my willie long and deeply. It was such a grand dream. I remember it was so real I felt it was actually occurrin' and I felt myself comin' to a conclusion and awoke. As I tried to focus my eyes, I head the door slam and feet runnin' down the hallway. I had such an enormous wooden willie and it was exposed, my havin' somehow kicked the covers off durin' the night. There I was with this enormously engorged willie and I guess the maid must have come in and seen me, got embarrassed and gone rushin' off down the hall. It must have been a really good dream, because my willie was really moist, almost damp. You don't think that maid had been in here doin' a Monica on me, do you? I have been wonderin' about that all day. She is too good lookin' to be a real skank, but I would let her do me. She wouldn't have to sneak around like that if she wanted to do me. Heck, it ain't like I wasn't enjoyin' it. I wonder if I ought to ask her to come back in here and finish the job. I wonder what Stu and Benji are doing. Maybe I can get them to accompany me down to watch them field hockey gals. Oh, wait, it is Labor Day. There ain't no school today. I wonder if Heather is in. Do whores take holidays off?
Well, I wish I had a good ride, so ya'll come on back here if'n ya need what I got to give, ya hear?
michele reports her part of one of those small misunderstandings which will bring a smile to your face.
It reminds me of an old joke:
A little boy comes out where his dad is racking leaves and asks: "What is sex?"
Dad decides that maybe the time has come to explain all to his son, so dispenses with the full birds and the bees speech.
Afterward, the boy thanks his father and and confusedly says, "Well, momma said to tell you dinner would be ready in a couple of sex [secs]."
In an offer to settle the Blog Warring, Glenn Reynolds has offered Frank J an all-expense-paid camping adventure vacation to the tropical paradise of Ngamba Island.
attribution: Glenn
I think if I had taken this gig, I would be dead.
attribution: Jed at Boots and Sabres
Well, it seems the squirrels are on another hiatus at NZBs Ecosystem site. However, I am pleased to see that I am now in the top 150 on the evolutionary scale. I still wonder why so many of the big dog blogs haven't even taken the time to visit me? Oh well, I guess they are too busy arguing politics to take the time to step back and glimpse the world from an inane point of view.
Arnold Schwarzenegger was caught by a photographer treating himself for glaucoma during youth. Substance purported to have been purchased in backroom pharmacy run by young Cruz Bustamante.
In a Weekly World News poll of purported alien babies (being 66% of the population of California), with absolutely no margin for error, 55% stated that they had purchased products from Mr. Bustamante, 63% said they had smoked pot with Mr. Schwarzenegger, and 99.9% said they had sex with Jennifer Lopez.
attribution: TalkLeft
Erica [Sperari: Taking 20] said this was "the funniest thing". I did not find it so funny as just plain good entertainment. For those bandwidth challenged people like me, I suggest you allow the link to fully load and for the music to stop completely then hit the replay button.
Dean Esmay has begun an interesting discussion on apologies over at Dean's World. I have posted a comment on my thoughts on the subject there, but forgot to add that I have yet to find a Nigerian who has offered an apology for all of those Nigerian email scams.
*Oops, sorry, there are no other myths to discuss currently.
Owen of Boots and Sabres points to a story about a new concept in space vehicle being developed by NASA: "a stripped-down four-seater." [story has picture]. Owen discusses a need for NASA to develop a fleet of varied vehicles to assist in different missions:
1) A heavy cargo replacement for the Space Shuttle. The Space Shuttle has been upgraded many times since its original manufacture, but it’s time to start fresh with new technology and new designs. The Space Shuttle fleet was designed to last 10 years and we’ve used it for 30. Retire the fleet with honor and let’s move forward. This craft is for large payloads that require human interaction.2) A light craft for carrying people and some basic supplies into space. This could be the 4-man craft they are working on now. It can be used for replacing personnel on the Space Station and orbital repair missions, assuming there isn’t a lot needed in the way of parts.
3) A heavy craft for launching unmanned satellites into orbit. I think the current rocket fleet is working fine for this. We can put satellites into space and supply the Space Station with great accuracy and efficiency with the rocket fleet. Keep it up.
4) A light craft for launching small payloads into space. I think that this would probably be a craft launched from a high altitude plane. It can be used for small supply missions and for sending parts. It could be used in combination with craft #2 for repair missions. It could also be used for small, unexpected supply missions.
5) A deeper space experimental craft. I envision a small, unmanned craft, loaded with instruments, that launches from – and returns to – the Space Station. A reusable craft of this sort could be used repeatedly at minimal cost. Perhaps even a small fleet of them. They could do things like: explore passing comets, survey the moon, survey the closer planets, find and examine other Earth-orbit crafts, etc. It could be used to pretty much explore anything that it can reach and return in the space of a couple of years, but mostly for closer missions.
I suppose I am thinking a bit differently. I see us needing several ships along the lines of the Andromeda Ascendant, a large fleet of X-wing fighters, and a plethora of Delta flyers. You add to this fleet a few of Buzz Lightyear's self contained suits with rocket packs and I think NASA would be well outfitted. Oh, for large cargo hauls, I think Sea/Land containers would be easily towable if necessary.
Well, while I was South of the Border, Charles Bronson passed away. Word is that the plans for Death Wish V are still on, as the producers, following a viewing of the fight scene in Bridget Jones's Diary, have scrambled to sign up Hugh Grant to assume the roll of Paul Kersey.
attribution: heads up from Laughing Wolf
Well, it seems that Rocket Jones was puttering around uncharted space and found himself caught in the gravitational pull of the great sun Munu. He is no longer available on the blog*spot frequency, so change your dials to http://rocketjones.mu.nu/.
Thanks to Kelley for the heads up in her weekly Cul-de-Sac.