February 28, 2007
Thought for the Day ...
The American Indians found out what happens when you don't control immigration.
Snakes and serpents
I believe I have mentioned in these pages several times my wet-my-pants fear of snakes. Here is a story of a terrifying encounter I had a few summers ago.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Snakes in the Grass and other Obstacles
Saturday was a beautiful day in Hoosierdom. Clear skies, it was sunny with a temperature around 70 degrees.
I had my fat butt firmly on the seat of my riding mower doing my best to not have the worst yard in the neighborhood this year. I was jamming to tunes on my MP3 player. Suddenly, from the corner of my eye I saw a snake lying in the grass next to the path I was mowing. It was slim and brown with spots and about 2 feet long.
I am TERRIFIED of snakes. I jumped off the mower immediately. I should have swerved and mowed it into nasty, bloody snake parts. I was too terrified to think.
I went to shut off the mower and realized I am a total pussy.
It was just a bungee cord that I use to tie on the pad to my kids' trampoline. It must have fallen off when I moved the damn trampoline to mow.
Man, sometimes I feel like a total dumbass. But I do hate snakes.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Snakes in the Grass and other Obstacles
Saturday was a beautiful day in Hoosierdom. Clear skies, it was sunny with a temperature around 70 degrees.
I had my fat butt firmly on the seat of my riding mower doing my best to not have the worst yard in the neighborhood this year. I was jamming to tunes on my MP3 player. Suddenly, from the corner of my eye I saw a snake lying in the grass next to the path I was mowing. It was slim and brown with spots and about 2 feet long.
I am TERRIFIED of snakes. I jumped off the mower immediately. I should have swerved and mowed it into nasty, bloody snake parts. I was too terrified to think.
I went to shut off the mower and realized I am a total pussy.
It was just a bungee cord that I use to tie on the pad to my kids' trampoline. It must have fallen off when I moved the damn trampoline to mow.
Man, sometimes I feel like a total dumbass. But I do hate snakes.
February 27, 2007
Quick, to the Batcave...
This post garnered a few comments from some of the big dogs, including my blog hero Velociman.
Friday, April 29, 2005
Some people are too dumb to live.
The post about vacations below reminded me of a side trip I took with my family to Mammoth Cave a couple of years ago. It was late in the day and one of the last tours. The group was small, so you could quickly categorize the suspects.
There was the guy who had toured the Cave many times, and was quick to try and impress the rest of us with his knowledge, even to the point of pointing out items past tour guides had mentioned but the current one left out. I tried to stay away from this blowhard.
There was the middle aged lady with the B-52 hairdo that asked inane questions. She was harmless and seeking attention. She was only mildly annoying and the guide handled her well.
There was the rest of us, ranging from interested to bored. We asked few questions and were along only for the experience.
Finally there was THAT guy. The dumb one. He was always trying to get off the trail, go down unmarked branches, falling behind, moving ahead. He was trying to be the class clown, but really was not funny. We had to wait while he took pictures of the dumbest things like the rocks on the floor or light fixtures. A real pain in the ass. Even my kids were fed up with him inside of 10 minutes.
The highlight was when we were in the deepest part of the cave. The guide turns out the lights to demonstrate what total darkness is like. Usually, the tour is very quiet at this part because impenetrable darkness makes most people uncomfortable. Not dumbass -- as soon as he realized how dark no light can be, he was heard to exclaim "Man, I got to get a pitcher [sic] of this!". The guide tried to tell him that one, the picture will not come out, and two, he should remain still and not move. He argued that no one will believe how dark it is and he has "Jest gotta get a pitcher of this". She said again that the picture will not come out. He argued that it would; he had an automatic flash. She said the picture would look like the lighted cave. He insisted that was crazy: the lights were off. She finally asked him to hold off and she quickly turned the lights back on. He pouted the rest of the tour because she would not let him take a picture of the blackness.
Like I said, some people are just to stupid to live.
Friday, April 29, 2005
Some people are too dumb to live.
The post about vacations below reminded me of a side trip I took with my family to Mammoth Cave a couple of years ago. It was late in the day and one of the last tours. The group was small, so you could quickly categorize the suspects.
There was the guy who had toured the Cave many times, and was quick to try and impress the rest of us with his knowledge, even to the point of pointing out items past tour guides had mentioned but the current one left out. I tried to stay away from this blowhard.
There was the middle aged lady with the B-52 hairdo that asked inane questions. She was harmless and seeking attention. She was only mildly annoying and the guide handled her well.
There was the rest of us, ranging from interested to bored. We asked few questions and were along only for the experience.
Finally there was THAT guy. The dumb one. He was always trying to get off the trail, go down unmarked branches, falling behind, moving ahead. He was trying to be the class clown, but really was not funny. We had to wait while he took pictures of the dumbest things like the rocks on the floor or light fixtures. A real pain in the ass. Even my kids were fed up with him inside of 10 minutes.
The highlight was when we were in the deepest part of the cave. The guide turns out the lights to demonstrate what total darkness is like. Usually, the tour is very quiet at this part because impenetrable darkness makes most people uncomfortable. Not dumbass -- as soon as he realized how dark no light can be, he was heard to exclaim "Man, I got to get a pitcher [sic] of this!". The guide tried to tell him that one, the picture will not come out, and two, he should remain still and not move. He argued that no one will believe how dark it is and he has "Jest gotta get a pitcher of this". She said again that the picture will not come out. He argued that it would; he had an automatic flash. She said the picture would look like the lighted cave. He insisted that was crazy: the lights were off. She finally asked him to hold off and she quickly turned the lights back on. He pouted the rest of the tour because she would not let him take a picture of the blackness.
Like I said, some people are just to stupid to live.
February 26, 2007
Rodents in the Restaurant
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Mighty Mouse lives in Utrecht!
So, we were in Utrecht, The Netherlands, Holland, whatever. We were in this little pub having a few beers. The place was dark, and a little dingy. It was off the canal, but still in the City Center. They were playing classic rock, not the techno shit you usually hear in every drinking establishment in Europe. It was a juke box, but they were set up for a band. I guess they did not play on a Tuesday night.
This fat Hoosier was having a good time. The beer was smooth and going down fast. The bartender brought over a basket of snack mix to the table with another round of beer. Everyone dived in. The basket tipped and some of the mix fell on the floor. As the evening wore on, we probably dropped more bits and crumbs onto the scratched and dented wooden floor.
At one point I moved my foot and felt something move under my shoe. As I looked down I saw a little gray mouse scurry across the floor to a dark corner near the area where the band usually played. WTF? I was not sure I was seeing things correctly.
We watched, and sure enough a few minutes later here he came again zigging and zagging across the dirty floor for another nibble at our mix. That was enough for the female member of the drinking group. We left right away. After all, there were plenty of places to drink in downtown Utrecht!
Mighty Mouse lives in Utrecht!
So, we were in Utrecht, The Netherlands, Holland, whatever. We were in this little pub having a few beers. The place was dark, and a little dingy. It was off the canal, but still in the City Center. They were playing classic rock, not the techno shit you usually hear in every drinking establishment in Europe. It was a juke box, but they were set up for a band. I guess they did not play on a Tuesday night.
This fat Hoosier was having a good time. The beer was smooth and going down fast. The bartender brought over a basket of snack mix to the table with another round of beer. Everyone dived in. The basket tipped and some of the mix fell on the floor. As the evening wore on, we probably dropped more bits and crumbs onto the scratched and dented wooden floor.
At one point I moved my foot and felt something move under my shoe. As I looked down I saw a little gray mouse scurry across the floor to a dark corner near the area where the band usually played. WTF? I was not sure I was seeing things correctly.
We watched, and sure enough a few minutes later here he came again zigging and zagging across the dirty floor for another nibble at our mix. That was enough for the female member of the drinking group. We left right away. After all, there were plenty of places to drink in downtown Utrecht!
Mathematics
One thousand, one hundred and nineteen posts. The first was on March 22, 2005. Seven hundred and six days ago. That is an average of three posts every two days. That is more than most newspaper columnists, few compared to some bloggers. A veritable electronic War and Peace compared to Goldbloom lately.
As such I know the old stuff rarely gets read after it ages off the page. There have only been a few bloggers that so entertained me I read their complete archives. Since I know I am not one of these I will do the heavy lifting for you. That is right, Fat in Indiana is going to post reruns.
I am drained, I have nothing for you. I am sick of politics, immigration, and sports. My life is boring. It is my hope that by taking some time off, taking away the self-imposed requirement of posting every day, I can come back fresh and better than ever. Thank you in advance for your patience.
As such I know the old stuff rarely gets read after it ages off the page. There have only been a few bloggers that so entertained me I read their complete archives. Since I know I am not one of these I will do the heavy lifting for you. That is right, Fat in Indiana is going to post reruns.
I am drained, I have nothing for you. I am sick of politics, immigration, and sports. My life is boring. It is my hope that by taking some time off, taking away the self-imposed requirement of posting every day, I can come back fresh and better than ever. Thank you in advance for your patience.
February 24, 2007
Today's Joke
Two nuns, Sister Catherine and Sister Helen, are traveling
through
Europe in their car. They get to Transylvania and are stopped at
a traffic
light. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a tiny little Dracula jumps
onto the
hood of the car and hisses through the windshield. "Quick,
quick!"
shouts Sister Catherine. "What shall we do?" "Turn the
windshield wipers on. That will get rid of the abomination," says Sister
Helen. Sister
Catherine switches them on, knocking Dracula about, but he
clings on
and continues hissing at the nuns. "What shall I do now?" she
shouts.
"Switch on the windshield washer. I filled it up with Holy Water
at the
Vatican," says Sister Helen. Sister Catherine turns on the
windshield washer. Dracula screams as the water burns his skin, but he
clings on and continues hissing at the nuns. "Now what?" shouts Sister
Catherine."Show him your cross," says Sister Helen. "Now you're
talking," says Sister Catherine. She opens the window and shouts, "Get
the fuck off the car!"
through
Europe in their car. They get to Transylvania and are stopped at
a traffic
light. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a tiny little Dracula jumps
onto the
hood of the car and hisses through the windshield. "Quick,
quick!"
shouts Sister Catherine. "What shall we do?" "Turn the
windshield wipers on. That will get rid of the abomination," says Sister
Helen. Sister
Catherine switches them on, knocking Dracula about, but he
clings on
and continues hissing at the nuns. "What shall I do now?" she
shouts.
"Switch on the windshield washer. I filled it up with Holy Water
at the
Vatican," says Sister Helen. Sister Catherine turns on the
windshield washer. Dracula screams as the water burns his skin, but he
clings on and continues hissing at the nuns. "Now what?" shouts Sister
Catherine."Show him your cross," says Sister Helen. "Now you're
talking," says Sister Catherine. She opens the window and shouts, "Get
the fuck off the car!"
February 23, 2007
Friday Music
I days of yore I often commented here about the music that plays in my head all day. The only way to stop it is to play music on the radio, or my song list on the computer from my iPod.
I was busy with work stuff that took a little concentration today, so the music was off, but the radio in my skull began to play the same tunes repeatedly. Most of the morning was taken with the Moody Blues and their ode to Dr. Leary and LSD.
Right before lunchtime and continuing is Led Zepplin regaling me with this:
If it keeps on rainin', levee's goin' to break,
If it keeps on rainin', levee's goin' to break,
When The Levee Breaks I'll have no place to stay.
Mean old levee taught me to weep and moan,
Lord, mean old levee taught me to weep and moan,
Got what it takes to make a mountain man leave his home,
Oh, well, oh, well, oh, well.
Don't it make you feel bad
When you're tryin' to find your way home,
You don't know which way to go?
If you're goin' down South
They go no work to do,
If you don't know about Chicago.
Cryin' won't help you, prayin' won't do you no good,
Now, cryin' won't help you, prayin' won't do you no good,
When the levee breaks, mama, you got to move.
All last night sat on the levee and moaned,
All last night sat on the levee and moaned,
Thinkin' 'bout me baby and my happy home.
Going, go'n' to Chicago,
Go'n' to Chicago,
Sorry but I can't take you.
Going down, going down now, going down.
That is When the Levee Breaks a blues composition. Plant's vocals give a wailing, haunted image as he plaintively shrieks the words.
I am not a huge Zepplin fan, but like most of my generation Stairway to Heaven was a standard. I also like Kashmir and a few others. Normally Plant annoys the hell out of me with his whining ohhhh, ohhhhs, but I do love the song when the Levee Breaks. There are a lot worse tunes to be stuck in your head on a sunny Friday afternoon.
I was busy with work stuff that took a little concentration today, so the music was off, but the radio in my skull began to play the same tunes repeatedly. Most of the morning was taken with the Moody Blues and their ode to Dr. Leary and LSD.
Right before lunchtime and continuing is Led Zepplin regaling me with this:
If it keeps on rainin', levee's goin' to break,
If it keeps on rainin', levee's goin' to break,
When The Levee Breaks I'll have no place to stay.
Mean old levee taught me to weep and moan,
Lord, mean old levee taught me to weep and moan,
Got what it takes to make a mountain man leave his home,
Oh, well, oh, well, oh, well.
Don't it make you feel bad
When you're tryin' to find your way home,
You don't know which way to go?
If you're goin' down South
They go no work to do,
If you don't know about Chicago.
Cryin' won't help you, prayin' won't do you no good,
Now, cryin' won't help you, prayin' won't do you no good,
When the levee breaks, mama, you got to move.
All last night sat on the levee and moaned,
All last night sat on the levee and moaned,
Thinkin' 'bout me baby and my happy home.
Going, go'n' to Chicago,
Go'n' to Chicago,
Sorry but I can't take you.
Going down, going down now, going down.
That is When the Levee Breaks a blues composition. Plant's vocals give a wailing, haunted image as he plaintively shrieks the words.
I am not a huge Zepplin fan, but like most of my generation Stairway to Heaven was a standard. I also like Kashmir and a few others. Normally Plant annoys the hell out of me with his whining ohhhh, ohhhhs, but I do love the song when the Levee Breaks. There are a lot worse tunes to be stuck in your head on a sunny Friday afternoon.
A few simple truths
After a week of nonsense and jokes I feel compelled to try and write a real post. Here are some truths we should keep in mind:
1. 'Tis the season of tax refunds. These are refunds not free giveaways from the government. The State took your money and used it interest free for a year. They made profit from YOU, they collected the interest you would have received. Too many people think they just got a gift when their tax check arrives.
2. The Government produces nothing. They have no way of making money except by taking it from you and me. Any largess given by the Government (local, State, Federal) is money taken from fellow taxpayers. When a local official says the new road is OK because the Federal Government is paying 75% -- YOU are still paying for 100% of the road. Unemployment, welfare, WIC, food stamps all are paid from your wages.
3. If we spent 75 million last year, and we had planned on spending 100 million this year, but revised the budget to 80 million -- that is not a cut. Only in government does logical thinking disappear.
4. Calling Murtha and Pelosi on their resolution that undermines the troops, that encourages the enemy, is not calling them unpatriotic. It is calling them the traitors they are. I find it hard to see how encouraging and giving aid to the enemy is anything but unpatriotic.
5. Why is it too hard for people to understand that new businesses, new housing,and new shopping centers all help lower the overall tax burden. Yes, it is a shame to lose farmland, and yes it will never be recovered, but are we not still paying farmers NOT to plant? Is there a shortage of food in this country? Is there truly a shortage of farmland? Yes farms are disappearing at an alarming rate, yet acres planted has not changed. The family farm is destined to go the way of the corner store and the family business. Progress often sucks.
6. Wal-Mart imports more goods from China than all but two countries in the world. In other words, if Wal-Mart were a country, it would be China's number three largest trading partner. What is going to happen if China actually allows its currency to fluctuate against the dollar? Prices at Wal-Mart will leap upward.
1. 'Tis the season of tax refunds. These are refunds not free giveaways from the government. The State took your money and used it interest free for a year. They made profit from YOU, they collected the interest you would have received. Too many people think they just got a gift when their tax check arrives.
2. The Government produces nothing. They have no way of making money except by taking it from you and me. Any largess given by the Government (local, State, Federal) is money taken from fellow taxpayers. When a local official says the new road is OK because the Federal Government is paying 75% -- YOU are still paying for 100% of the road. Unemployment, welfare, WIC, food stamps all are paid from your wages.
3. If we spent 75 million last year, and we had planned on spending 100 million this year, but revised the budget to 80 million -- that is not a cut. Only in government does logical thinking disappear.
4. Calling Murtha and Pelosi on their resolution that undermines the troops, that encourages the enemy, is not calling them unpatriotic. It is calling them the traitors they are. I find it hard to see how encouraging and giving aid to the enemy is anything but unpatriotic.
5. Why is it too hard for people to understand that new businesses, new housing,and new shopping centers all help lower the overall tax burden. Yes, it is a shame to lose farmland, and yes it will never be recovered, but are we not still paying farmers NOT to plant? Is there a shortage of food in this country? Is there truly a shortage of farmland? Yes farms are disappearing at an alarming rate, yet acres planted has not changed. The family farm is destined to go the way of the corner store and the family business. Progress often sucks.
6. Wal-Mart imports more goods from China than all but two countries in the world. In other words, if Wal-Mart were a country, it would be China's number three largest trading partner. What is going to happen if China actually allows its currency to fluctuate against the dollar? Prices at Wal-Mart will leap upward.
February 22, 2007
My two favorite girls, 1987
Since it is payday, I am in a good mood. Tommorrow I will be broke again.
Here is a picture of my wife and daughter taken about this time 20 years ago.
How to get laid more often
The two old guys were both only a year short of retirement from the
assembly line, but one Monday morning that didn't keep Joe from
boasting to Manny about his sexual endurance. "Three times," gasped
Manny admiringly.
"How'd you do it?"
"It was easy."
Joe looked down modestly. "I made love to my wife, and then I rolled
over and took a ten-minute nap. When I woke up again, I made love to
her again and took another ten-minute nap. And then I put it to her
again. Can you believe it! I woke up this morning feeling like a
bull, I'll tell you."
"I gotta try it," said Manny. "Lorraine won't believe it's
happening." So that night he made love to his wife, took a ten-minute
nap, made love to her again, took another nap, woke up and made love
to her a third time, then rolled over and fell sound asleep.
He woke up feeling like a million bucks, pulled on his clothes, and
ran to the factory, where he found his boss waiting outside for him.
"What's up, Boss?" he asked. "I've been working for you for twenty
years and never been late once. You aren't going to hold these twenty
minutes against me now, are you?"
"What twenty minutes?" growled the boss. "Where were you on Tuesday and Wednesday?
assembly line, but one Monday morning that didn't keep Joe from
boasting to Manny about his sexual endurance. "Three times," gasped
Manny admiringly.
"How'd you do it?"
"It was easy."
Joe looked down modestly. "I made love to my wife, and then I rolled
over and took a ten-minute nap. When I woke up again, I made love to
her again and took another ten-minute nap. And then I put it to her
again. Can you believe it! I woke up this morning feeling like a
bull, I'll tell you."
"I gotta try it," said Manny. "Lorraine won't believe it's
happening." So that night he made love to his wife, took a ten-minute
nap, made love to her again, took another nap, woke up and made love
to her a third time, then rolled over and fell sound asleep.
He woke up feeling like a million bucks, pulled on his clothes, and
ran to the factory, where he found his boss waiting outside for him.
"What's up, Boss?" he asked. "I've been working for you for twenty
years and never been late once. You aren't going to hold these twenty
minutes against me now, are you?"
"What twenty minutes?" growled the boss. "Where were you on Tuesday and Wednesday?
February 21, 2007
John "Benedict Arnold" Murtha
American Heritage Dictionary - Cite This Source trea·son (trē'zən) Pronunciation Key
n.
Violation of allegiance toward one's country or sovereign, especially the betrayal of one's country by waging war against it or by consciously and purposely acting to aid its enemies.
A betrayal of trust or confidence.
After reading this dictionary definition, how would you describe John Murtha?
Little Anna Nicole
A teacher asked her class, what do you want out of life?" A little girl in the back row raised her hand and said, "All I want out of life is four little animals."
The teacher asked, "Really and what four little animals would that be, sugar?"
The little girl said, "A mink on my back, a jaguar in the garage, a tiger in the bed, and of course, I'll need a jackass to pay for all of it."
The teacher fainted.
The teacher asked, "Really and what four little animals would that be, sugar?"
The little girl said, "A mink on my back, a jaguar in the garage, a tiger in the bed, and of course, I'll need a jackass to pay for all of it."
The teacher fainted.
February 20, 2007
Hillary For President
The Democratic National Committee is currently polling Americans through the Internet to determine the electability of Hillary Clinton for the presidency of the United States in 2008.
If you would like to show your support for Hillary and encourage her to run for President of the United States in 2008 please click the link below.
http://piv.pivpiv.dk/
If you would like to show your support for Hillary and encourage her to run for President of the United States in 2008 please click the link below.
http://piv.pivpiv.dk/
February 19, 2007
Just what do you hate about me?
What is it about you guys on the Left Coast and your aversion to reading my blog? This is a typical picture of my readers. Do I only appeal to those of you in the Southeast and Midwest? Shoot, I have more readers in Europe and Asia than I do in lefty-America.
Those of you in the western US of A call your friends, tell your neighbors, email your co-workers. In fact all of you should be asking "Did I read and link to Fat in Indiana today?"
Get with the program.
Monday Twofer
A U.S. Marine squad was marching north of Fallujah when they came upon an Iraqi terrorist, badly injured and unconscious. On the opposite side of the road was an American Marine in a similar but less serious state. The Marine was conscious and alert and as first aid was given to both men. The squad leader asked the injured Marine what had happened.
The Marine reported, "I was heavily armed and moving north along the highway here, and coming south was a heavily armed insurgent. We saw each other and both took cover in the ditches along the road."
"I yelled to him that Saddam Hussein is a miserable, lowlife scumbag, and he yelled back that Ted Kennedy is a good-for-nothing, fat, left wing liberal democrat drunk."
"So I said that Osama Bin Ladin dresses and acts like a ! frigid, mean-spirited lesbian! He retaliated by yelling, Oh yeah ? Well, so does Hillary Clinton!"
"And, there we were, in the middle of the road, shaking hands, when a truck hit us"
The Marine reported, "I was heavily armed and moving north along the highway here, and coming south was a heavily armed insurgent. We saw each other and both took cover in the ditches along the road."
"I yelled to him that Saddam Hussein is a miserable, lowlife scumbag, and he yelled back that Ted Kennedy is a good-for-nothing, fat, left wing liberal democrat drunk."
"So I said that Osama Bin Ladin dresses and acts like a ! frigid, mean-spirited lesbian! He retaliated by yelling, Oh yeah ? Well, so does Hillary Clinton!"
"And, there we were, in the middle of the road, shaking hands, when a truck hit us"
For Big Dick, Chou and other Texas Bloggers
THREE COWBOYS ARE SITTING AROUND THE CAMPFIRE OUT ON THE LONESOME PRAIRIE, EACH WITH THE BRAVADO FOR WHICH HE IS FAMOUS. A NIGHT OF TALL TALES APPEARS TO LIE AHEAD....
THE GUY FROM MONTANA SAYS, "I MUST BE THE STRONGEST, MEANEST, TOUGHEST COWBOY THERE IS. WHY, JUST THE OTHER DAY, A BULL GOT LOOSE IN THE CORRAL. IT HAD GORED SIX MEN BEFORE I WRESTLED IT TO THE GROUND BY THE HORNS WITH MY BARE HANDS AND CASTRATED THAT SUCKER WITH MY TEETH."
THE GUY FROM COLORADO COULDN'T STAND TO BE BESTED. "THAT'S NOTHING, I WAS WALKING DOWN THE TRAIL YESTERDAY AND A FIFTEEN FOOT DIAMONDBACK RATTLER SLID OUT FROM UNDER A ROCK AND MADE A MOVE FOR ME. I GRABBED THAT BASTARD WITH MY BARE HANDS, BIT ITS HEAD OFF AND SUCKED THE POISON DOWN IN ONE GULP. AND I'M STILL HERE TODAY."
THE COWBOY FROM TEXAS REMAINED SILENT, SLOWLY STIRRING THE CAMPFIRE COALS WITH HIS PECKER.
THE GUY FROM MONTANA SAYS, "I MUST BE THE STRONGEST, MEANEST, TOUGHEST COWBOY THERE IS. WHY, JUST THE OTHER DAY, A BULL GOT LOOSE IN THE CORRAL. IT HAD GORED SIX MEN BEFORE I WRESTLED IT TO THE GROUND BY THE HORNS WITH MY BARE HANDS AND CASTRATED THAT SUCKER WITH MY TEETH."
THE GUY FROM COLORADO COULDN'T STAND TO BE BESTED. "THAT'S NOTHING, I WAS WALKING DOWN THE TRAIL YESTERDAY AND A FIFTEEN FOOT DIAMONDBACK RATTLER SLID OUT FROM UNDER A ROCK AND MADE A MOVE FOR ME. I GRABBED THAT BASTARD WITH MY BARE HANDS, BIT ITS HEAD OFF AND SUCKED THE POISON DOWN IN ONE GULP. AND I'M STILL HERE TODAY."
THE COWBOY FROM TEXAS REMAINED SILENT, SLOWLY STIRRING THE CAMPFIRE COALS WITH HIS PECKER.
February 18, 2007
Who is in Charge?
Jack was going to be married to Jill, so his father sat him down for a
little chat... "Jack, let me tell you something. On my wedding night in
our honeymoon suite, I took off my pants and handed them to your mother,
and said 'Here try these on.'
So, she did and said 'These are too big. I can't wear them' So I replied
'Exactly. I wear the pants in this family and I always will.' Ever since
that night we have never had any problems." "Hmm" says Jack. He thinks
that might be a good thing to try. So on his honeymoon, Jack takes off
his pants and says to Jill "Here try these on." She does & says "These
are too large, they don't fit me." So Jack says, "Exactly, I wear the
pants in this family & I always will, and I don't want you to ever forget
that." Jill takes off her pants and hands them to Jack & says, "Here you
try on mine." He does and says, "I can't get into your pants." Jill
says, "Exactly. And if you don't change your smart ass attitude,
you never will."
little chat... "Jack, let me tell you something. On my wedding night in
our honeymoon suite, I took off my pants and handed them to your mother,
and said 'Here try these on.'
So, she did and said 'These are too big. I can't wear them' So I replied
'Exactly. I wear the pants in this family and I always will.' Ever since
that night we have never had any problems." "Hmm" says Jack. He thinks
that might be a good thing to try. So on his honeymoon, Jack takes off
his pants and says to Jill "Here try these on." She does & says "These
are too large, they don't fit me." So Jack says, "Exactly, I wear the
pants in this family & I always will, and I don't want you to ever forget
that." Jill takes off her pants and hands them to Jack & says, "Here you
try on mine." He does and says, "I can't get into your pants." Jill
says, "Exactly. And if you don't change your smart ass attitude,
you never will."
February 17, 2007
Saturday Funny
A little boy blows up his balloon and starts flicking it all around the
house with his finger. His mother tells him to stop it, as he's liable to
break something. The boy continues. "Johnny!"
Mom screams. "Knock it off. You're going to break something."
He stops and eventually Mom leaves for a short trip to the shopping
center.
Johnny starts up with the balloon again. He gives it one last flick and
it lands in the toilet
where he leaves it. Mom comes in and while putting away the grocery gets
the urge. A diarrhea
run. She can hardly make it to the toilet in time and SPLASH, out it
come s. Whe n she's finished,
she looks down and can't believe what she's seeing. She's not sure what
this big brown thing is
in the toilet! She calls her doctor. The doctor is baffled as she
describes the situation, but he
assures her he'll be over shortly to examine everything.
When he arrives she leads him to the bathroom and he gets down on his
knees and takes a
long hard look at the thing. Finally, he takes out his pen and sort of
touches it to see what it
might be and POP! The balloon explodes and poop goes flying everywhere.
On him, the walls,
etc.
"Doctor! Doctor! Are you all right?" she asks.
He says, "I've been in this business for over 30 years, and this is the
first time I've ever actually
seen a fart!"
house with his finger. His mother tells him to stop it, as he's liable to
break something. The boy continues. "Johnny!"
Mom screams. "Knock it off. You're going to break something."
He stops and eventually Mom leaves for a short trip to the shopping
center.
Johnny starts up with the balloon again. He gives it one last flick and
it lands in the toilet
where he leaves it. Mom comes in and while putting away the grocery gets
the urge. A diarrhea
run. She can hardly make it to the toilet in time and SPLASH, out it
come s. Whe n she's finished,
she looks down and can't believe what she's seeing. She's not sure what
this big brown thing is
in the toilet! She calls her doctor. The doctor is baffled as she
describes the situation, but he
assures her he'll be over shortly to examine everything.
When he arrives she leads him to the bathroom and he gets down on his
knees and takes a
long hard look at the thing. Finally, he takes out his pen and sort of
touches it to see what it
might be and POP! The balloon explodes and poop goes flying everywhere.
On him, the walls,
etc.
"Doctor! Doctor! Are you all right?" she asks.
He says, "I've been in this business for over 30 years, and this is the
first time I've ever actually
seen a fart!"
February 16, 2007
Here today, Gone tomorrow
Did you click back yesterday? Too late, now you get this graphic representation instead. I am not sure I don't look a little more handsome in this version. The girl looks better in real life than in either version.
Why did I listen to you?
"You are an asshole. You should have just stayed home." She poked her finger in my direction. "I cannot believe you are such a jerk".
"But, Honey," I said. "This was supposed to romantic. Besides, it was 28 years ago!""
"You wanted to ditch me at the restaurant!"
I pleaded to her to just read more, but no dice. I cleaned up what I thought were the bad parts, you know, where I admitted I only went out with the girl to get her best friend. Last time I listen to you guys. 'Your wife will love this' you wrote. Hah.
Check back later for a special post.
"But, Honey," I said. "This was supposed to romantic. Besides, it was 28 years ago!""
"You wanted to ditch me at the restaurant!"
I pleaded to her to just read more, but no dice. I cleaned up what I thought were the bad parts, you know, where I admitted I only went out with the girl to get her best friend. Last time I listen to you guys. 'Your wife will love this' you wrote. Hah.
Check back later for a special post.
February 14, 2007
Questions and comments
Mars is warming. Did man cause that too, or could global warming be caused by the sun?
How gullible do we have to be to accept the argument that global warming causes the winters to be worse?
It took me 6-1/2 hours to drive from Chicago to Indy yesterday. Stupid? Probably, but I did not see the roads getting better today with a whole night of blowing and drifting to come.
The worst stretch of highway was in Marion County (Indianapolis) where it did not appear the roads had been plowed at all.
I walked into the house last night to smell of fresh cookies (oatmeal) baking. Nothing makes you feel home more than that smell.
It may be a pain, but there is little in nature more beautiful than fresh snow.
Am I the only one who thinks the NBA has become unwatchable? That same boring brand of basketball is now creeping into the NCAA.
I have had near-constant muscle spasms near my right shoulder blade for more than three weeks. Should I be worried about this? Do I need to see a doctor?
I have not been to a doctor for nearly 20 years other than for insurance and new hire physicals. I have not been sick. The aches in my right knee, right shoulder, right ankle, and right hand (a hard to discern pattern) may force me to go soon. Pain is a funny thing. How much is too much? Is what I feel mild compared to yours? Am I extraordinarily tough? How much should one feel before going to a medical specialist? Some nights I wake from the pain in my shoulder and knee. Is this something more than hereditary arthritis? Am I just a big wimp? So many questions...
Was anyone fooled toward the end of the previous story? Did you think I dumped the girl when I went to college? What enticements will you give me to post the picture? Would you be disappointed if it were all made up?
I ate a bunch of dried apricots. How many, you ask? Let us just say about 3 shitloads. Did you ever take a dump so foul you could smell it in the opposite end of the house -- twenty minutes later? Me neither.
How gullible do we have to be to accept the argument that global warming causes the winters to be worse?
It took me 6-1/2 hours to drive from Chicago to Indy yesterday. Stupid? Probably, but I did not see the roads getting better today with a whole night of blowing and drifting to come.
The worst stretch of highway was in Marion County (Indianapolis) where it did not appear the roads had been plowed at all.
I walked into the house last night to smell of fresh cookies (oatmeal) baking. Nothing makes you feel home more than that smell.
It may be a pain, but there is little in nature more beautiful than fresh snow.
Am I the only one who thinks the NBA has become unwatchable? That same boring brand of basketball is now creeping into the NCAA.
I have had near-constant muscle spasms near my right shoulder blade for more than three weeks. Should I be worried about this? Do I need to see a doctor?
I have not been to a doctor for nearly 20 years other than for insurance and new hire physicals. I have not been sick. The aches in my right knee, right shoulder, right ankle, and right hand (a hard to discern pattern) may force me to go soon. Pain is a funny thing. How much is too much? Is what I feel mild compared to yours? Am I extraordinarily tough? How much should one feel before going to a medical specialist? Some nights I wake from the pain in my shoulder and knee. Is this something more than hereditary arthritis? Am I just a big wimp? So many questions...
Was anyone fooled toward the end of the previous story? Did you think I dumped the girl when I went to college? What enticements will you give me to post the picture? Would you be disappointed if it were all made up?
I ate a bunch of dried apricots. How many, you ask? Let us just say about 3 shitloads. Did you ever take a dump so foul you could smell it in the opposite end of the house -- twenty minutes later? Me neither.
February 12, 2007
A love story
Thursday, the second wrestling meet of the week. I took a beating, yet still won. You remember the old joke about "does your face hurt?", yes it did. On the bus ride home I had time to think. In the dark it all became a stark reality. I just had to get out of going to that dance.
How could I break it to her? She bought a dress, I had ordered the corsage. Dinner reservations were made. I did not even know this girl. I could say I was sick. Think, man, think. If I cancelled I would be a heel, and Teresa would be pissed. That would be bad. She would not like me to cancel a date with her best friend.
Friday, I woke, no closer to a resolution. I had a crush on this girl, Teresa. Her best friend asked me out to a Sadie Hawkins dance. It was a big deal, the biggest dance of the year except for the prom: dresses were bought, suits were worn. I said yes, thinking the girl would talk about how wonderful I was and Teresa would see me as something besides a friend. Sixteen year old boys do not always think logically, especially when it comes to women. Yes, my motive was wrong. I did not care.
Wrestling practice was supposed to be short, most of the team had a date for the dance. I had two black eyes, the result of high cheekbones and sharp elbows. We started wrestling around and my partner Jeff got a bloody nose. He got them all the time and of course, I laughed at him. This really made him mad and he was determined to give me a bloody nose as well. The only problem is I had never had one. EVER. He proceeded to give me several hard cross-faces. He hit me with an elbow, he smashed me with his skull. No bloody nose. I took a quick shower before heading home to get ready for the dance. Shit, my left eye was swollen shut, my right eye and cheek were hues of blue, green and purple. I bet her parents would be real impressed.
I circled the block twice mustering the courage to knock on the door. Her nephew answered. Fortunately she was ready. A few quick pictures and we were on our way. No one asked how I came to look like a prizefighter.
On the way to the restaurant we did not speak much. I gave this girl a quick glance. I barely knew her. Only after she asked me to the dance did I discover her last name. Her short hair was dark, almost black. It fell in soft waves framing her face. Her nose was straight and narrow, freckles covered her cheeks. Her eyes lit up each time she smiled. They were hazel.
We went to the local Moose Lodge for dinner (the oldest in the world), there was not much else in the little town where we lived. I had pork chops. Neither of us spoke much during dinner. Aborted conversations ended with one word answers. "Is your steak OK?"
"Yes, It is fine," she muttered. Oh God, what have I gotten myself into? OK, dinner, go to the dance stay an hour or so and make an excuse to take her home. Maybe I can claim I have wrestling practice in the morning. I noticed her hands. The fingers were long and smooth, a small hint of white fingernail polish graced the long nails. A few freckles dotted her arms. I tried hard not to stare at her chest above the white sleeveless dress. The swell of her breasts was enticing. She was kind of pretty. When she stopped in the ladies room after dinner I briefly thought about just leaving. She was in there a long time, and maybe she was hoping I would.
I still remember clearly the events before the dance. What I ate. The back of my neck burning with embarrassment. The feeling everyone in the dining room knew I was a lousy date, a failure, a hoodlum. The rest of the evening remains a blur. We found our table at the dance. We were sitting with her friends. I knew some of the other guys. The lights were low and suddenly this strange girl looked lovely. The band was playing and we sat and tried again to talk. Finally a slow dance was played and I summoned the courage to escort her to the floor. She fit perfectly in my arms. the top of her hair came to my eyes. Her waist was the perfect size for my skinny arms. She smelled faintly of flowers. After the song we walked to the punchbowl holding hands.
As we sat back at the table I moved my chair closer, we began to find things to talk about. My hand was on her thigh. I forgot my mother's admonition to not try to be funny. Mom told me that often others just did not get my dry sarcastic sense of humor. The girl had the most melodious laugh. We danced some fast songs. She had rhythm, I could only jerk around like a spastic monkey with a lobotomy. I was having a good time in spite of my efforts not to.
Another slow song began and we moved to the floor hand in hand. I put my arms around her, her hands locked around my neck. I looked into her eyes and saw my soul. She leaned to me, and I to her. Our lips met and electricity shot through my body. My hair stood on end. As our tongues met, I never felt like this before! Wow, I said as our lips parted. I was out of breath. I was not sure if we had kept dancing or not. The room spun. I kissed her again.
The night lasted forever and ended too soon. As we made out in the front seat of my parent's Monte Carlo, hurried plans were made for another date the next day. I drove home with her taste on my lips. Pizza, a movie and more electric kisses followed on Saturday.
Monday came and Teresa did not look quite so hot. She asked me how the dance went, a knowing leer on her face. I know now girls talk about that stuff*. Teresa told me she just knew the girl and I would get along. She suggested a double date the next week. Why not?
I found an old picture taken at that dance back in December of 1978. I see a skinny boy, his left eye shut, his right black. I see a couple of kids, unsure of life, of themselves. The pretty girl is standing next to that boy. I know the picture was taken as we arrived, before the slow dances, before the kiss. I know this because in the picture I am just a shy boy, smirking at the world.
I dated the girl for several years. I left for college. I got engaged. I got married.
The girl is now my wife. Her kisses are still electric.
* My buddy Jeff just asked me if I got 'any'.
How could I break it to her? She bought a dress, I had ordered the corsage. Dinner reservations were made. I did not even know this girl. I could say I was sick. Think, man, think. If I cancelled I would be a heel, and Teresa would be pissed. That would be bad. She would not like me to cancel a date with her best friend.
Friday, I woke, no closer to a resolution. I had a crush on this girl, Teresa. Her best friend asked me out to a Sadie Hawkins dance. It was a big deal, the biggest dance of the year except for the prom: dresses were bought, suits were worn. I said yes, thinking the girl would talk about how wonderful I was and Teresa would see me as something besides a friend. Sixteen year old boys do not always think logically, especially when it comes to women. Yes, my motive was wrong. I did not care.
Wrestling practice was supposed to be short, most of the team had a date for the dance. I had two black eyes, the result of high cheekbones and sharp elbows. We started wrestling around and my partner Jeff got a bloody nose. He got them all the time and of course, I laughed at him. This really made him mad and he was determined to give me a bloody nose as well. The only problem is I had never had one. EVER. He proceeded to give me several hard cross-faces. He hit me with an elbow, he smashed me with his skull. No bloody nose. I took a quick shower before heading home to get ready for the dance. Shit, my left eye was swollen shut, my right eye and cheek were hues of blue, green and purple. I bet her parents would be real impressed.
I circled the block twice mustering the courage to knock on the door. Her nephew answered. Fortunately she was ready. A few quick pictures and we were on our way. No one asked how I came to look like a prizefighter.
On the way to the restaurant we did not speak much. I gave this girl a quick glance. I barely knew her. Only after she asked me to the dance did I discover her last name. Her short hair was dark, almost black. It fell in soft waves framing her face. Her nose was straight and narrow, freckles covered her cheeks. Her eyes lit up each time she smiled. They were hazel.
We went to the local Moose Lodge for dinner (the oldest in the world), there was not much else in the little town where we lived. I had pork chops. Neither of us spoke much during dinner. Aborted conversations ended with one word answers. "Is your steak OK?"
"Yes, It is fine," she muttered. Oh God, what have I gotten myself into? OK, dinner, go to the dance stay an hour or so and make an excuse to take her home. Maybe I can claim I have wrestling practice in the morning. I noticed her hands. The fingers were long and smooth, a small hint of white fingernail polish graced the long nails. A few freckles dotted her arms. I tried hard not to stare at her chest above the white sleeveless dress. The swell of her breasts was enticing. She was kind of pretty. When she stopped in the ladies room after dinner I briefly thought about just leaving. She was in there a long time, and maybe she was hoping I would.
I still remember clearly the events before the dance. What I ate. The back of my neck burning with embarrassment. The feeling everyone in the dining room knew I was a lousy date, a failure, a hoodlum. The rest of the evening remains a blur. We found our table at the dance. We were sitting with her friends. I knew some of the other guys. The lights were low and suddenly this strange girl looked lovely. The band was playing and we sat and tried again to talk. Finally a slow dance was played and I summoned the courage to escort her to the floor. She fit perfectly in my arms. the top of her hair came to my eyes. Her waist was the perfect size for my skinny arms. She smelled faintly of flowers. After the song we walked to the punchbowl holding hands.
As we sat back at the table I moved my chair closer, we began to find things to talk about. My hand was on her thigh. I forgot my mother's admonition to not try to be funny. Mom told me that often others just did not get my dry sarcastic sense of humor. The girl had the most melodious laugh. We danced some fast songs. She had rhythm, I could only jerk around like a spastic monkey with a lobotomy. I was having a good time in spite of my efforts not to.
Another slow song began and we moved to the floor hand in hand. I put my arms around her, her hands locked around my neck. I looked into her eyes and saw my soul. She leaned to me, and I to her. Our lips met and electricity shot through my body. My hair stood on end. As our tongues met, I never felt like this before! Wow, I said as our lips parted. I was out of breath. I was not sure if we had kept dancing or not. The room spun. I kissed her again.
The night lasted forever and ended too soon. As we made out in the front seat of my parent's Monte Carlo, hurried plans were made for another date the next day. I drove home with her taste on my lips. Pizza, a movie and more electric kisses followed on Saturday.
Monday came and Teresa did not look quite so hot. She asked me how the dance went, a knowing leer on her face. I know now girls talk about that stuff*. Teresa told me she just knew the girl and I would get along. She suggested a double date the next week. Why not?
I found an old picture taken at that dance back in December of 1978. I see a skinny boy, his left eye shut, his right black. I see a couple of kids, unsure of life, of themselves. The pretty girl is standing next to that boy. I know the picture was taken as we arrived, before the slow dances, before the kiss. I know this because in the picture I am just a shy boy, smirking at the world.
I dated the girl for several years. I left for college. I got engaged. I got married.
The girl is now my wife. Her kisses are still electric.
* My buddy Jeff just asked me if I got 'any'.
Aahhhoooogggaaaaa, Panic, Panic
This is not a drill. Panic NOW! Go to the store buy all of the milk, bread, and eggs you can. It is going to snow and you must make french toast.
The storm team/panic team went into full panic mode yesterday about a HUGE SNOW OF HISTORIC PROPORTIONS that will arrive tonight and mostly on Tuesday. Every channel is screaming the warnings. We will get 3-6 inches (!!!) of snow, places further north will get 8-12 inches of snow.
Remember the rule of thumb, the more panic the snow team / panic team displays, the more you need to follow the 50% rule:
Take the lesser amount promised by the weather quack and multiply by .50. That is how much snow you will get.
Even if I miss it on this one, I bet I am more accurate than the weather guy most times.
Why are you reading this? GET TO THE STORE, BUY STUFF YOU DO NOT NEED! WHO KNOWS, YOU MIGHT BE SNOWED IN FOR 8 HOURS!
PANIC NOW
The storm team/panic team went into full panic mode yesterday about a HUGE SNOW OF HISTORIC PROPORTIONS that will arrive tonight and mostly on Tuesday. Every channel is screaming the warnings. We will get 3-6 inches (!!!) of snow, places further north will get 8-12 inches of snow.
Remember the rule of thumb, the more panic the snow team / panic team displays, the more you need to follow the 50% rule:
Take the lesser amount promised by the weather quack and multiply by .50. That is how much snow you will get.
Even if I miss it on this one, I bet I am more accurate than the weather guy most times.
Why are you reading this? GET TO THE STORE, BUY STUFF YOU DO NOT NEED! WHO KNOWS, YOU MIGHT BE SNOWED IN FOR 8 HOURS!
PANIC NOW
February 11, 2007
Just a thought
You know it is a screwed up world when you go outside, sans gloves, coat unzipped. You do not get cold because it is a balmy twelve degrees. I guess it is what you get used to. I remember once seeing a picture of one of the expeditions to the South Pole and the guys were in snow up to their waist. The were shoveling a path in their shirt sleeves. A couple of the men were working without a shirt! The human body is an amazing study in endurance and adaptability. Few animals or machines can outmatch the human body for its adaptive properties. From subzero to over one hundred degrees we keep on ticking. We process information, learn, adapt, work. There are machines that process information faster and can calculate problems far above our brain. There are bigger stronger faster animals. We build those machines, we are the top predator on the planet. Some machines and animals can do some tasks better than the human. There is not a machine or animal that can do all we do. Tell me again there is no God.
I saw several robins on Friday. It was two degrees outside. How weird is that?
I saw several robins on Friday. It was two degrees outside. How weird is that?
Blame it on Global Warming
Sorry for the lack of posts. Life gets in the way of my hobbies sometimes.
I am car shopping to replace my daughters worn-out Nissan. It is to the point the needed repairs outweigh the value of the car. I despise car shopping. It is amazing that the process is so painful to someone who negotiates for a living. I hate to go in unprepared so the research is time consuming.
More travel this week, so I am not sure the frequency of quality posts will get better. Off to Chicago later this week. I would prefer Tampa.
I am car shopping to replace my daughters worn-out Nissan. It is to the point the needed repairs outweigh the value of the car. I despise car shopping. It is amazing that the process is so painful to someone who negotiates for a living. I hate to go in unprepared so the research is time consuming.
More travel this week, so I am not sure the frequency of quality posts will get better. Off to Chicago later this week. I would prefer Tampa.
February 9, 2007
Art Linkletter, where are you...
My wife is an teacher's aide in a kindergarten class. Each week the kids are challenged to bring in a show and tell that goes with that week's featured letter. For instance a kid might bring in an apple for "A" or a stuffed lion for "L".
This week the letter was "Q". Some of the kids brought in playing cards with a queen. Some brought in a quarter. One little girl was stumped. She rushed in to class this morning all excited.
"Mrs. HB", she cried, "I found something. No one else thought of this for show and tell." She reached into her sack and pulled out a box of Cheese Nips. "Look", she said. "Qwackers" in complete seriousness.
My wife said she had to leaver the room she was laughing so hard.
February 8, 2007
Home Alone
I left my hotel in beautiful Ybor City at 5:45am this morning. I am now back home. I had to scrape a half foot of snow from my car. The temperature was 3 degrees in Indy when we landed. It is now a balmy five.
The boys had done a fair job cleaning the drive, I was surprised. I hope they did not make their mom help, else there will be some ass kicking this evening.
Two days at a trade show, now I get to go to the BMV this afternoon. I am not sure why I did not schedule a root canal, just to complete the week's trifecta of pain.
I am glad to be home, but I already miss the warm breezes of the Sunshine State.
I did not get an opportunity to meet any of my blog buds this trip, I hope to be back for vacation in March / April and I will try to hook up then!
The boys had done a fair job cleaning the drive, I was surprised. I hope they did not make their mom help, else there will be some ass kicking this evening.
Two days at a trade show, now I get to go to the BMV this afternoon. I am not sure why I did not schedule a root canal, just to complete the week's trifecta of pain.
I am glad to be home, but I already miss the warm breezes of the Sunshine State.
I did not get an opportunity to meet any of my blog buds this trip, I hope to be back for vacation in March / April and I will try to hook up then!
February 6, 2007
J'arrive
I have arrived a my super secret location, all safe and sound. It is pushing seventy degrees. It is snowing back home.
Work this afternoon and tonight, rinse and repeat tomorrow. It looks like I will get but a few hours to enjoy the sunshine. I fully appreciate that is more than most of you.
Work this afternoon and tonight, rinse and repeat tomorrow. It looks like I will get but a few hours to enjoy the sunshine. I fully appreciate that is more than most of you.
February 5, 2007
Colts Win!
Grossman is taking a lot of heat for the Bears Loss. One pundit even claimed Grossman should have been the MVP for the winning team. That is brutal. Rex had a bad game, but you have to put a great deal of the blame for the Colts victory on the Bears Defense. They were in no shape or form the '85 Bears. The Colts out hustled, out muscled, and physically handled the bears on both sides of the ball. Just like every other vaunted defense that has played the Colts this year, the Bears were unable to stop the Colts offense.
I am a happy boy today.
Like a lot of the country, it is brutally cold here in the Hoosier heartland today. More of the same is expected all week. I will be in southern climes for business, maybe I will post, maybe not. Your patience is appreciated, read some of the fine folks over there on the right for some good entertainment. In any case the best course of action is click early and often, just in case I make a post. I know you would not want to see what pearls of wisdom I have sent your way via the blogsphere.
I am a happy boy today.
Like a lot of the country, it is brutally cold here in the Hoosier heartland today. More of the same is expected all week. I will be in southern climes for business, maybe I will post, maybe not. Your patience is appreciated, read some of the fine folks over there on the right for some good entertainment. In any case the best course of action is click early and often, just in case I make a post. I know you would not want to see what pearls of wisdom I have sent your way via the blogsphere.
February 3, 2007
February 2, 2007
Patrick O'Brian
I am on my second reading (some books third) of the complete Aubry/Maturin novels (Master and Commander) by POB. These novels constitute some of the greatest fiction ever written, in my opinion. I give them a hearty recommendation. Give them a chance, it takes some time to get into the rhythm of the language.
The books exhibit some of the finest character studies ever, and are unequalled in action. There is also a very subtle humor in these books. Here is a brief passage from book seven, The Surgeon's Mate. Captain Aubry and his small sloop have just put into Gothenborg, Sweden for supplies. The Commandant of the fortress provides powder and "a present of smoked reindeer tongues and a barrel of salted honey-buzzards." These he presented to Doctor Maturin. The doctor is startled by the gift of buzzards. he asks the Commandant:
'Did you shoot them , sir?"
'Oh, no,' said the Commandant, quite shocked. "You must never shoot a honey-buzzard: it ruins the flavour. No: we strangle them.'
'Do they not resent this?'
'I think not,' said the Commandant...
The Commandant tells how there are numerous migratory birds on his property and they knock them out of the trees and then wring their necks. Says the Commandant:
'It has been done forever;all the best salted buzzards come from Falsterbo;and no doubt they are used to it.'
'Do eagles also appear sir?' asked Stephen [the doctor].
'Oh, yes, oh indeed!'
'Do you salt them too?'
'Oh, no" said the Commandant, amused. 'A salted eagle would be a very whimsical dish. They are always pickled, you know; otherwise they would eat intolerably dry.'
Do not let the movie fool you (although I enjoyed the movie), this is amusing, exciting and wonderful literature. You would do yourself a favor if you read these books. What else do you have to do this weekend?
* The Surgeon's Mate Norton paperback version 1992 pages 201/202
Correction
Shouldn't the half-time entertainment at the Superbowl actually be referred to as "The artist formerly known as the artist formerly known as Prince"?
You did not think I actually made a mistake did you?
You did not think I actually made a mistake did you?
February 1, 2007
We are just overreacting
Marcus, over at On the Patio, links to an article that leaves me floored, speechless and sad. Read it here.
Those of you who think the survival of our country into perpetuity is a sure thing need to understand these people are our neighbors, our teachers and usually our reporters. When did patriotism become a bad thing? Of course, the author of the article would say I am overreacting to his words.
I would welcome intelligent conversation in the comments.
"It also raises several questions. Has the American reaction to the attacks in fact been a massive overreaction? Is the widespread belief that 9/11 plunged us into one of the deadliest struggles of our time simply wrong? If we did overreact, why did we do so? Does history provide any insight?"
Those of you who think the survival of our country into perpetuity is a sure thing need to understand these people are our neighbors, our teachers and usually our reporters. When did patriotism become a bad thing? Of course, the author of the article would say I am overreacting to his words.
I would welcome intelligent conversation in the comments.