Had a horrible white sausage, nearly made me sick

Eric, over at Straight White Guy has been posting a series of entries from his travel journal. I thought I was the only one who wrote down memories of trips. On this particular business trip I forgot my camera, so all I have to remember these places are my notes. Here is a page from my travel notes from a trip to Germany and Austria. The first entry recounts a visit to a manufacturing plant in Steyr, Austria. The next entry takes place in Bavaria. I hope you can manage to read my chicken scratches. This trip was in 1999 or maybe 2000(?).

Show Me

I have a question for you Progressives out there. One of the complaints I here The Obama and Democrats mouth is the we are losing our middle class. The politicians in Europe are making the same complaints.

If European-type Socialism/Progressivism is so great, where is the burgeoning middle class? Where is the middle class in China? Was there a middle class in Soviet Russia?

I find it interesting that the rise of the middle class in Western Society came right along with the onset of the Industrial Revolution and the capitalist explosion in the last 300 years or so. As Government and bureaucracies have gained greater control we see a larger and larger disparity.  Under Obama's policies the welfare state has expanded. Since the Dems took control of Congress in 2006, the economy has tanked, home values have fallen and unemployment is at sustained levels we have not seen in more than a generation.

Today's Liberal/Progressive says we just need more of these policies. If the Government could just take over health care, or perhaps the oil companies, or maybe the housing market, perhaps food distribution, all will be better.  Can anyone point to empirical evidence that supports this position? Is there anywhere the liberal/progressive/socialist program has worked?

Anyone? I am not from Missouri, but I still invite you to show me.

I don't do "hints". Just tell me what you want.

Here I sit on a Sunday morning, trying to take a decision.  Do I write something for the old blog or watch something on the TV or pick up a book and read a bit? You can figure the correct response to that simple multiple choice quiz.

The sun is trying to burn through a heavy gray cloud cover. It rained on and off all day yesterday. The sun was off in Florida shining on the vacationing Baby Boomers. The springtime grass is an impossibly vibrant shade of green that the engineers and designers at Crayola can only dream of. With a whole week of rain in the forecast, I will likely need a goat or an industrial sickle to cut it down at my next opportunity.

My honey-do list is growing by leaps and bounds.  The wife is entering full panic mode as the boy's graduation nears. The same house that has hosted family and friends many times before is now suddenly in dire need of a make-over. The whole house needs to shine like a blood diamond. The garage must be cleaned and scrubbed (yes, I said garage, do not ask me why), the carpets cleaned,  fresh paint on the walls. This is my third time at this rodeo, so I know better than to argue,  I will just do what I think needs done and ignore the rest of the list. For instance there is no way I am painting the walls. I will just smile and nod when she dreams up another project. Until things get too nuts for me to handle.

We were wandering around WalMart last evening. She was looking for something (I wasn't paying attention) and chattering away about doing something or the other she wants to do  in the closet; storage shelves or drawers. Blah blah. I am thinking she should just get rid of the clothes that don't fit or are out of style and she would have plenty of closet room. Quit buying new shit. The answers are easy and simple. But I say nothing.  I have expressed those sentiments before to blank stares.  I guess I was speaking a rare dialect of Basque again (but I digress) Out of the blue she says "How much do you think it would cost to have someone come out and redo the landscaping?"  She means like professional people. She means trees, shrubs, bulldozers and backhoes. I muster the most incredulous tone possible as I ask her why would we do that. I knew the answer, but I had to hear it.

"For graduation".

I try to keep my swearing to a minimum with her, especially the 'f' word, but this was too much. "Are you fucking nuts? Do you have any idea what that would cost? It is just high school graduation.  The people coming are the same people who have been at our house a hundred times before. Good God, what is wrong with you?" I probably went to far. People were leaving the housewares department like a pipe bomb had detonated. Even the fat bitch on the scooter made a hasty retreat.

I know what is going on here. It is the old bait and switch. By throwing out the idea of professional landscape design, re-mulching the flower beds and planting some perennials will seem minor in comparison.  I have known this woman for 34 years.  I know how this game is played. I just don't know the rules.

Weekend Funny

Example #137 of my stupidity

I try not to dwell on my health problems around here. No one wants to here about that. I sometimes relate tales of my ongoing war with my bowels (likely medicine-induced according to the Doctor). Farts and turds and shitting of the pants is funny, in an eighth grade sort of way. I have no issues pandering to the lowbrow.

Most of you are probably aware I am diabetic. Genetics and years of overeating coupled with a lack of exercise can do that to you *. I waited until I had severe problems with my feet before I went to the doctor, because ignoring health problems always makes them go away.

Usually.

Sometimes.

OK, never. I know that now.

Anyway,  I have nerve damage in my feet.  It is getting a little better but occasionally I have issues. Last night I hit the side of my big toe on the edge of a door. I did not really feel it much.  I looked down and saw some skin was torn on the edge of the toe.. Without thinking,  I reached down and pulled off the scrap of skin -- along with most of the outer layers of  skin from the bottom of my right big toe.

On the bright side, it didn't hurt -- remember the nerve damage? On the dangerous side, people with diabetes have to be very aware of foot injuries, especially the toes. Thick, syrupy blood does not like to travel to the extremities and sores on the feet and toes can lead to those same toes and feet being cut off as scrap. That toe may be minus a toenail, but I am pretty fond of it there on the end of my foot. The toe is still seeping blood this afternoon.  I am going to have to keep my eye on things and if there is no improvement I WILL head to the doctor on Monday. This is not like a cough that lingers for a month or so...

Oh and for the record, every post this week was published live. No canned content for my loyal readers -- even when I was deep in the heart of the Land of the Cheeseheads.


* I am 50 pounds lighter and walk 2-3 miles every day.  My blood sugar is under pretty good control through diet, exercise and medication.

The burden is heavy, and he ain't my brother

$4,000,000,000
Four Billion dollars.
Every year.
Four billion dollars given to illegal aliens in fraudulent tax returns. the IRS knows, and does not care.

I watched this last night. It is not good for an old man to get so pissed off before bed.  I know you guys never click links, but trust me on this one. Click. read. watch.

We know who is hiring and paying these illegals. It is right there on the tax form. Fine the employers. $10,000 for the first illegal. $20,000 for the second. $40,000 for the third.  Throw them in jail if they continue.

Quit giving free stuff to "undocumented" people.. Take away the jobs.  Boom, bang and the illegal/undocumented/criminal  problem is fixed. No need for moats or walls or the army to protect the border.  If there are no jobs and no free stuff they won't come.

Four billion dollars. every year.  Sadly, that is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the cost illegal aliens put on American citizens.

Happy Days Are Here Again!

I read where the Obama Administration has declared an end to the War on Terror. I guess The 'Bamster has decided he will follow that great political philosopher John Lennon's plea and give peace a chance.

Since it is all about me around here, I have to admit the end of terrorism is welcome news.  Now that we no longer have to worry about crazy men between the ages of 18 and 35 (who just happen to follow the teachings of a goatherding pedophile -- a mere coincidence we are told) blowing shit up, I can again board an airplane without undressing and having semi-naked pictures taken by the TSA. I will not have to worry about holes in my socks when I remove my shoes or my beltless pants falling around my ankles as I make moose horns with my hands in the magic X-Ray machine. Now that the WoT is done,  I can pack enough shampoo to last more than a day or two in my carry on. I look forward to bringing a bottle of water from home to the airport.

Since we no longer have to worry about terrorism, I expect an edict dismantling the TSA from The One any day now...

Moonglow memories.

A red stingray bike. The smell of a baseball glove. Heat lightning on a summer night. A train in the distance. The smell of corn growing in black dirt. A hamburger on the grill. A cardinal in a pine tree. A dog at your side. Picking raspberries in the thicket and eating a tomato right out of the garden. A fine cigar on a spring afternoon. Fresh snow on the grass. Coffee in the morning. A lovers kiss. A baby's cry in the night. Jupiter standing sentinel above a quarter moon on crisp fall night. A vase of roses. Turkey in the oven. Paddling a canoe on Wildcat Creek. Rain drumming on a canvas tent. A daughter's tap shoes on hardwood. Playing catch with my boys. Fresh popcorn and the movies. A cold beer after mowing the yard. A hard day's work. Sunset through a windshield. Blue-green waves on a white sand beach. A red tailed hawk in the sky. A castle on a German hill. A good book. Music on the stereo. A waterfall in Oregon. Secretly digging Breakfast at Tiffany's.  A steaming plate of beef and noodles. A wife's naked hug. Walking barefoot in the grass. Cribbage with Grandma. Wasting your time with crap like this.

Sun Spots, Bald Spots and Daisey Chains

I have long had the habit of latching on to a particular author and reading everything I can by that person. Unfortunately many of my long-time favorite have had the bad grace to die, to move on to other characters or they just plain write too slowly. I like series books, and the Jake Grafton (Stephen Coonts), Swagger family (Stephen Hunter), Sharpe (Bernard Cornwell), Aubrey/Maturin (Patrick O'Brian),  The Brotherhood of War and The Corps (WEB Griffin) are among my favorites. I have read most of these various books and series multiple times.

In the past few weeks I have started reading the Game of Thrones series by George RR Martin. I never read fantasy, and these are not fantasy novels in the classic SciFi sense. I am almost done with the third book in the series. You get your money's worth of entertainment from this series.  All of the books are 700 pages plus.  I have stayed up too late at night, read at lunch and even in the morning before work. I have read almost 2,000 pages in just a few weeks. That is not a lot for some of you, but I do not read as fast as I once did.

Martin knows how to build a story.  Each chapter is told from the viewpoint of a different character and there are multiple plot lines and stories intertwining the chaos. Just when you think you have a clue where the story is going, Martin shakes things up and goes in another direction entirely. he has no qualms letting the bad guys win and often the good guys are not as good as you think and the bad people can do good. The characters come across as human with all of our faults. bad tings happen to good people and evil is sometimes rewarded, just as in life.

There is blood and lust and greed and backstabbing enough to satisfy a soap opera. Think of the series as a bloodier, sexier "Dallas" or Dynasty" set on the middle ages as opposed to the greedy 1980's. Except JR diddles his sister and Blake Carrington gets a knife in the eye and burnt alive.

Climate change and the effect on milkweed, bittersweet and other fence row vegetation

Here we are on a chilly Monday morning. Last night I decided me and the Doughboy would make some cinnamon rolls this morning. I set the alarm to get up a bit early. For some reason I set the clock for 7:10 instead of 6:10. By a miracle I opened my eyes and looked at the clock -- it read 6:10.  I wondered why the alarm did not go off and checked the time.  I had screwed up and set the wrong time..  I woke for some reason on time. Is this a miracle or a coincidence?

Of course it was really only 6:00 in the aye em. For a bizarre reason I have never understood, the wife wants the bedroom clock set ten minutes fast. She claims it helps her get ready on time. I am not sure of that logic since we all know the clock is ten minutes fast. She has insisted on this for the almost 28 years we have been married, and I gave up pointing out the idiocy of this practice long ago.

The boy went to the prom on Saturday evening.  He looked sharp in his tux and his date was beautiful in her full, long dress. He said he had a good time.

I hope your weekend was a good one.  Now get to work.

Power

There are a lot of men and women in law enforcement who are great people.  They put their lives on the line every day. I am sure dealing with the scum of society, criminals and liars on a constant basis would taint your view of the populace as a whole.

But just this week we have see the other side of the coin as it appears the thin blue line has reached out to protect its own in Indianapolis.

Then last night on the news was a segment that also jaundiced my perception of the boys in blue. The story was the crackdown in Bloomington, IN on underage drinking for the Little 500 Weekend.  This is the annual event captured in the movie Breaking Away. It is a huge party weekend.

Two girls were captured on film. One, who was 23, came from a liquor store. The police pulled the car over as the girls did not look of age.  The passenger, and the one who bought the beer was 23.  The driver was underage. Apparently, transporting booze if you are underage is against the law. The cop gave warning tickets. The girl who was old enough was upset. She got a warning ticket for allowing the underage girl to drive a car with alcohol in it. I agree, that is bullshit. I am certain that is not the intention of the law.

She was tearfully complaining to the cop that she thought it was not right, she was of age. She maintain she should not be in trouble for doing something perfectly legal. The cop looked at her and told her her complaining made him change his mind and he went and wrote both girls a real ticket and had the underage girl arrested. All because a citizen had the temerity to complain about what she thought was unjustified police harassment. You could tell by the cops attitude he was disappointed the booze buyer was old enough and was going to justify his stop in any way possible. he was pissed the girls did not thank him for only passing a warning ticket. The switch from a warniing to real tickets just made him petty and tyranical.

I am sure this cop and his buddies laughed later about how he "gave her something to really complain about". Plus he made Bloomington a bunch of money.

Too bad about the record these girls now have when they really did nothig wrong.

It was my first time and I was a little nervous

Today, I did something today I have never done before. I turned to the Government to solve a problem. Yes, I filed z complaint with the Attorney General's Office. For months and longer these assholes at Credit Card Services have called my home phone, my cell phone, my wife and kid's cell phones, and likely your phone too. The recording always tells me time is running out to reduce my interest rate on my credit cards. These calls always have a fake '800' number and the caller ID is from a different state most every time.

Occasionally I try to talk to a real person to find out why they are calling me.  Today I spoke with George. George said he could fix any credit card if I gave him the numbers. I told him I would not give out those numbers without more information.  I asked his name, that is how I learned it was George. He gave the company name as "Credit Card Services". Things got a little dicey when I asked for a phone number and address. George just laughed and said I don't need that info. When I asked where he got my phone number he started his speil again. When I said I was on the State and Federal Do Not Call lists he laughed and told me"too bad" and hung up.

I know the State will do nothing, but what the heck, if we all complain enough...

I know people have to make a living in these tough Obamanomics, but those assholes can suck rotten eggs.

...And this is American Bulls*&t

The wife is a long-time regular devotee of American Idol. I sometimes watch it with one eye while I am reading or playing around on the 'puter. I do not know the contestant's names, I never watch it that closely.  They are always "that one blond girl" or the "rocker guy" or "that little twit" to me. Somehow the wife knows which singer I mean when I offer my rare comment.

Last week one of the better singers was voted off. She was the Celine Dion wannabe. The judges saved her, and they probably made a good decision.  She is talented. But then they went a step further and actually started pimping for votes for her. Last night the wife watched Tuesday's episode (thanks to DVR the endless commercials zip right past). The judges continued their advocacy. It is clear they have two favorites and were exorting the audience to vote for their favorites.

What the hell?  Is this a competition or not? Are they judges or supposed to choose the winner? I thought phone-in voters made the choice. Their lack of impartiality would qualify them to be Obama SCOTUS candidates. I understand Idol is losing viewers and if this is the norm I know why. If there was a number to vote against someone I would have called to vote against the judges hand-picked candidates.

On the 100 point scale of Important To Your Life this issue ranks a weak 1.7, but it is Friday and I am not in the mood for politics. If I was one of the remaining 6/7(?) candidates, I would be asking for a meeting with the producers and asking WTH, is this a competition or not?

How to size and fit a tin foil hat

In times of crises in the Roman Republic shed its democratically elected government and appointed Consuls to run the country. They usually appointed two, and the Consuls resigned when the crisis was resolved. Until one Julius Caesar decided he would be Consul for life. His nephew Octavian (Augustus) stepped things up a notched an named himself Emperor.

The French Republic was the modern Progressive's vision of equality.  Yet as war consumed the nation, it did not take long to turn to a dictatorial power to manage through the crisis and the bloody reign of Napoleon Bonaparte was the result.

Times of crisis have always been open doors to ambitious politicians. People want to know the man-in-charge is getting the job done and democratic states are reluctant to change leaders during times of trouble. FDR was elected four times, steering the country through the Great Depression and WWII. Lincoln, elected by a minority in 1860 won by a large margin in 1864 in the midst of the Civil War.

Recent history reminds us that President Bush -- both of them -- reached tremendous levels of popularity during the Gulf War and after 9/11.

So what if in the future we find ourselves in the midst of a huge crisis in the days or weeks or months before a general election? Riots in the cities, terrorist attacks, nuclear war, a modern Reichstag burning as examples. Does such a crisis keep a president in power? What happens if there is a crisis and he decides to suspend elections, insists he must stay in power until the crisis is averted? There will be many in the press and Congress and among the People who will agree.

What do we do if the President of the Future decides his presence is paramount to democracy? That he must suspend the Constitution to save the American way of life?  What does the Congress do? The Courts? The military? Do the States rebel, do the People go along?

That is why government by executive fiat is a bad thing, why we should all be concerned about EPA mandates, the bureaucracy running the country.  Who controls whom when the Feds control your healthcare, your food, your housing? We should be concerned about the strangling power of the Federal Government, the weakening of the States, of the People. 

History never repeats itself, but there are lessons to be leaned from the past.

I know

I have a conference call this morning.  I will try and entertain you later.  Check back often.

Living out of a suitcase

Og has an amusing anecdote today about living out of a suitcase. I have often found myself awake in a strange hotel room needing to piss and confused to the direction of the nearest head. Never with such hilarious results though.

Many people live life on the road. I spend about one night a week in a hotel, on the average. In the past that was more like three to four nights in a hotel. For me, it was (and is) rare to spend more than one night at a time in a particular location. That means a different bed every night. I am not sure if it is better or worse that I usually patronize the same chain whenever I travel.  That means the rooms are often similar, just oriented slightly different. Sometimes my biggest issue is remembering the room number.

Life on the road is not the glamor or adventure some people imagine. For one thing, industrial areas are not usually situated near tourist destinations. Second, sitting alone reading a novel while waiting on a chicken salad or hamburger at Applebees is no one's idea of the high life. Nor is being hundreds or thousands of miles from your loved ones. Stuff always happens when you are gone from home. The boy's car breaks down. The furnace quits in the middle of the night. I once got a call that the toilet tank was flooding the house. I was in Germany. I won't bother with my response to my tearful wife. Let us just say I had to apologize when I got home (but I was right).

It is not all ratty carpets and miniature shampoos though.  I have travelled much of the United States and parts of the World on someone else's dollar.  I've been to some fantastic places that easily compensate for every night spent in small town America and smokestack industrial area of the rustbelt. I have seen mountains and lakes and waterfalls and flat farm fields of black earth stretching to the horizon. I have seen sunsets that take my breath away through my windshield and tall skyscrapers rising in the midst of a concrete jungle. I drank cold beer beside an Alpine lake in Austria and tiptoed past the junkies shooting smack in the Utrecht train station late at night. I have visited (and only visited in the tourist sense) the red light district of Hamburg and climbed the Eiffel Tower.

For a people watcher, life on the road is a joy. I have seen idiocy in the air and on the road beyond comprehension. I have witnessed a couple having sex in a convertible at 80 mph and a nutjob playing the trumpet while driving on I-75 in the heart of Atlanta's rush hour. I watched two semis collide on Chicago's I-94 near the loop and a car drive off the road and flip from a two lane highway in West Tennessee.

So far, I have yet to find myself groggy from a drug-induced sleep, sitting in a tub of ice, minus a kidney in a worn out Ramada Inn. There is that.

The mouse that roared

The fly sat on the chariot wheel and said "what a dust I raise" That is a paraphrase of a LaFontaine (whoever he was) quote. I try to keep it in mind.

Anyway, just when I was feeling good about reaching a minor blogging milestone, one of the true heavy hitters and all around entertaining bloggers weighs in.  Some of us are really just specs of dust...

My Vichy Visitor

Onward and upward, I say.  I had my 200,000th hit earlier this morning. It was a visit from France. They were searching for "Hoosier heartbreak". I am not sure what that means, or how it lead to my tiny corner of the interwebz. Whoever you are, mon visiteur, je dit "merci". Vous est magnifique!

Now we have to see how fast we can get to 250,000

Breeding cobras for fun and profit

The wife's CPAP mask was not adjusted right or something last night.  It was like sleeping next to a wind tunnel. That is not the kind of blow job I want. Early this morning, as the whoosh of air rushing out woke me up for around the tenth time, I thought about clamping down on her face with a pillow to quiet the sound. I finally just got up instead.

I should exceed 200,000 hits sometime on Monday. That total is minuscule for the big dogs out there, but for this hick from the Hoosier hinterlands it is pretty cool. I am honestly humbled by the idea anyone would go out of there way to click a link to this collection of typos, misspellings, and incomprehensible screeds. The notio9n that so many of you come by every day -- some of you on purpose -- leaves me amazed.

I can remember the early days when I got perhaps seven hits a day, five of them me. In the heady fays of 2007 and 2008 I managed to attract about twice my current daily visitors, but Facetwitter has destroyed blogging. Or maybe it was Obama. Is it a coincidence that many of us lost readers after the election of the Chosen One? 

By the way, I checked with some friends who own a beach house in North Carolina.  The tides still come to about the same place as the did in 2008, The Obama has ruined Blogging, but he has not reduced sea levels like he promised.

As usual my random ramblings have taken us off track. Thank you to every one of you who has bothered to stop by in the past seven years. Your comments and visits have gotten me through some low days and were mere icing on the cake on good days. I know very few of you in person, but you are among my dearest friends. I do not possess the vocabulary to express what that means to me. A simple thank you will have to suffice.

Weekend Funny

Putting your money where your mouth is

The Obama has released his 2011 tax returns. According to reports he paid an effective rate of just over 20%.

I suspect we shall soon see him publicly writing a check to the Treasury for an additional 10% of his income to ensure he pays his "fair share".

Any day now...

If you have been paying attention

The past week or three is a primer for students of Sociology to see first hand how a lynch mob is formed...

Cure your own bacon at home in six easy steps

This song was a big hit the year I was born in the now truly golden year of 1962:



Sam Cooke's classic dance tune was featured in the Animal House Soundtrack. Being of the right age I owned that masterpiece on vinyl and later it was one of the first CDs I ever purchased. Some of the tunes were ffraternity party/dance staples in the early 1980's.

Anyway, what I wanted to talk about is my long-lasting mental stubbornness and idiocy.  Until a few years ago I actually thought one of the lyrics was "He's dancing with the chicken slacks". I knew about poodle skirts and duck-tail haircuts of the 1950's and early 1960's, but I had no idea what chicken slacks were.  I even asked my Dad one time if he knew.  Pop had never heard of them.  It is no wonder, the actual lyrics are "...dancing with the CHICK IN SLACKS" . It is not 'chicken slacks". The truth came to me during a late night drive as the tune played over my car stereo via my iPod. It was a real ah-ha moment for me, more than a quarter of a century late.

I once heard a comedian remark on the syndicated Bob and Tom radio program he thought the lyrics to the famous Kiss song was "I want to Rock and Roll all night, and part of every day".

Are there song lyrics that have confused you?

The Hunger Game of Thrones

This semi-functioning Blogger interface is really starting to piss me off. I could not even find a way to edit yesterday's post. I have said for a long time blogging is dying, and it looks like Google is doing its utmost to kill it off. I feel like Dr. Jack has the old blog strapped down and is trying to shove that rubber mask over my face. Only instead of Kevorkian, it is Google and Blogger driving the Van of Death.

I had a political post all composed in my head, but I am just not in the mood.  Either you know and understand Obama is nothing but a walking socialist tax and spend cliche or you don't. If you really think the problem is we are not taxing enough, you ignorance of mathematics is beyond remediation. We could take 100% of everything every millionaire and billionaire has and the Feds will still spend more than they take in.

It is the spending, stupid.

As I said before, the only political card the Democrats really have to remain in power is an ignorant, politically uneducated electorate.

On the bright side, if you're a died-in-the-wool Democrat, the Roman Emperors used the bread and circus tactic with success for about 400 years before the decay ond societal breakdown led to the sacking of the city by Alaric the Goth.

On the other, less optimistic hand, the socialism as envisioned by Obama and company has pretty much failed everywhere it has been tried starting with the nutcases in Revolutionary France (where even bathing was frowned upon because that meant you thought you were better than someone who did not bathe) and continuing right through the shining examples of modern North Korea, Zimbabwe and Cambodia. Europe is heading away from Big Government programs as fast as possible while the Democrat Party is doing its best to saddle our great grandchildren with debt that makes the Greeks look like mere amateurs.

I guess this is a political post after all.

Stayin' Alive

Excuses -- that's all I have today. Work, travel, and a computer so slow you cannot imagine are all conspiring to prevent me from offering a decent post today. Or Yesterday. I am not sure what excuse I have for most of the drivel you read around here.

But yesterday I was on the road and did not get a canned post in.  Today I am buried in work.

Over there on the right you will find some goods reads.

Love and kisses

me

Google can kiss my ass

I usually post on my laptop. I sent it back to HQ for some updates, so I am using my ancient family desktop this week. (No canned post today!)

Anyway, I keep getting messages from Blogger telling me the  Blogger interface will not work right with Windows. I need to install Chrome. I use Firefox on the laptop, so I am not sure if this is a new warning or has been going on a while.  I will say posting, etc. is difficult when half of the toolbars do not show up.

I have never taken to threats or bullies, so if Blogger thinks this will make me install the Google Software, they should think again. I will abandon this piece of shit in a heartbeat. I have two other blogs, both on Wordpress. Currently neither has new posts, but that can be fixed.

Google Chrome may be the greatest browser ever invented. But I will not be blackmailed into using it.

We bought the desktop model I am typing on in 2005. At the time it was state-of-the -art. It had all of the bells and whistles. Now it is a Ford Edsel in a world of Ferrari's. My iPhone has more computing power. I am not sure I have the memory to install a new browser if I wanted to, I am sure I do not have the cache to do it.

This POS has been infected with so many viruses you cannot imagine. We only discovered one time my daughter had been turning off the virus protection every time she got on the computer because "it slowed her down and would not let her download stuff". She had been doing this for months.  The internals of this computer housed more toxic viruses than the CDC.

You can only go in and slice evil worms from the registry so many times before you have negative effects.  It is like brain surgery, there are bound to be side effects. That is my theory anyway.

This computer only gets used on occasion. The wife uses her iPad for every day browsing.  The boy and I both have laptops. The steam turbine that powers this old HP only gets booted up every few weeks. I am not going to invest any time in upgrading anything on it.

Google Chrome can just bite me.  Hear that Google? Go suck an egg.

I suspect the evil Google overlords are not going to like this post, so if I disappear, I will leave a path of bread crumbs to my hideout.

Weekend Funny

Come on ice cream

1976, It was America's Bicentennial and the big park was filled with people that sultry July 4th. I ate my weight in food, a talent shared by every growing 14 year-old. Roasted corn on the cob, pork burgers, corn dogs, watermelon, ice cream, lemonade, junk of all description filled my belly.

Why this trip down memory lane? Because Wednesday night/Thursday morning I shat every morsel of food I have eaten in the intervening 36 years. I think I crapped out the Lindbergh baby. Somehow parts of Amelia Earhart's plane came boiling from my bunghole in a hot viscous liquid. It was like some unseen hand had slipped me a powerful enema. My room at the Hilton Garden Inn took on the fetid odor of a Port-o-pot after a chili eating contest at a biker rally. Dung beetles were complaining about the smell.

I soiled two pairs of tightey-whiteys and a pair of cotton gym shorts. It took two showers to clean myself up at various times.  The sphincter will not hold a gallon of water while you have a coughing fit. I went through two rolls of toilet paper, and the box of tissues left by the maid.  I opened the coffee service so I could use the napkins. I never left the toilet for more than 16 minutes for more than 8 hours. I know 'cause I kept track. I actually fell asleep on the toilet at least twice. Each time I woke with thunderous anal explosions that echoed through the darkened bathroom.

My colon settled down with the rising of the sun. I finally was able to abandon the throne long enough to shower and shave. I slipped on some jeans and went commando to the nearest Wal-Mart. I bought some replacement undergarments and a much needed bottle of Pepto. I drank half the bottle in the parking lot.  I went back to my room at the hotel.  I dressed for my customer visits, glad to have some underwear beneath my Dockers. I alternately held my breath and gagged as  I packed.  I  left a couple of bucks on the nightstand for the maid.

My twisted bowels had finally recovered by supper time enough to eat a bit of Carolina BBQ before boarding the plane for home.

The future will be no brighter than today

It is opening day for baseball. That means the Cubs are in first place. That makes me happy. Of course they have yet to play a game, but I look for the bright spots where I can find them. I suspect this will be another long season for my beloved Cubbies, but at this stage of the multi-year/decade/century rebuilding project, a winning record would be welcome.

I have sworn for years that when the Cubs win the World Series I am getting the image over there on the left tattooed on my upper arm. The wife even agreed, knowing the odds were slim.

 I never really wanted a tattoo anyway...

Oh my God, the Supreme Court just might take a decision Liberals don't like. THINGS MUST CHANGE!

Lefty MoFos sure sang a different tune back in the heady Roe v. Wade days didn't they? Can MS Dowd bother to look up hypocrisy in the dictionary? I suspect she would find her ugly mug as the pictorial example.

Do you really think Supreme Court decisions in the past were not divisive? Dred Scott, Brown v. The Topeka Board of Education, blah, blah, blah the divisive Court cases are numerous and one side always hates the outcome.  It is past time liberals grew the fuck up. Life is not fair, and as our Dear Leader pointed out -- elections have consequences. 

Take a deep breath and get over it already. This is the way the Government is designed. It is called checks and balances, people. No wonder the Teachers Unions and Democrats in general hate civics class.

Perhaps we should wait for a decision before we go into hysterics?

It would be funny if it wasn't true

The Obama is out criticizing the Republican budget. He has nary a word to say about the Senate failing to pass a budget for more than 1,000 days. And Harry Reid has no intention of bring a budget to vote. Obama's last budget failed in the senate 97-0. He could not even find one Democrat to vote for his plan, even though the Democrats control the Senate (and budgets are filibuster-proof). The President's budget was defeated 414-0 in the House in March.

At current spending levels the Nation will be insolvent in about 15 years. Obama and his tax cheater-in-chief Treasury Secretary admit they have no plan to address the problem. "Tax the rich" is their parrot-like refrain whenever the subject is brought up. Your average sixth grader can do the math. If you tax 100% of income and assets for every millionaire, you get enough money to run the country for a few months. After the rich have given everything, what then?

Obama and the Democrats depend upon an ignorant electorate.

I hope to hell he did not teach my lawyer

President Obama, who used to be a lecturer on Constitutional law, seems to be completely flummoxed by the idea of Judicial Review. Too bad the concept dates back to Marbury v. Madison. The Supreme Court has been reviewing Congressional Laws for Constitutionality for more than 200 years.

I guess The Obama was out protesting for radical professors the day they covered that stuff at Harvard Law?

That Freddie, she is as sharp as the knives in my kitchen

And that is really sharp.

After spending last week on vacation, I am buried at work. I am not sure how Freddie figured out the posts were canned, but she did. I guess I am not as clever as I imagined. There is a lesson to be learned here that I will probably ignore. I am hard headed like that.

After work yesterday I mowed the weed choked wall of green that is my yard. I then trimmed some bushes and attempted various other yard-work type duties. Today I am sore and my fingers are filled with splinters and slivers of nature and my arms are scratched like I was wrestling cats.

Last night I found a cartoon that sums up my work plans for today:

Not really, I have plenty to do, but I would like to play hooky.  The weather is supposed to be fine. I stayed up way too late last night reading Game of Thrones. I am late to the party for this series. I don't have HBO and I do not like SF or fantasy as a general rule, so I have not read the books until my son insisted I give it a read.  I must confess, it is good stuff. I will likely finish the first volume this week.

Why Trayvon?

In technical terms, bunches of folks are shot and killed every day in these United States. Some are shot by people with different levels of melanin in the skin tissue. Lately, the nation has gone into hysterics because a guy with a white-sounding name shot a guy with a black-sounding name in a scuffle about which noone knows the details. But the race baiters and anger mongers are fanning the flame of discontent. There is a full effort to inflame the passions of the minority community. Marches and protests and table thumping has ensued at levels we have not witnessed for years.

Why? Ask yourself what is it about this isolated case that has brought the Reverends Al and Jessie out in full anger mode? Why is it essential we identify one half of the tragedy as a white Hispanic?

Why the anger over this case? Why? Clinton bombed and aspirin factory to cover the reports of getting Monicad in the Oval Office. Did you notice ObamaCare was getting a hearing in Court this week? Whether the Government has the power to dictate what is best for you is the essence of the argument before the Highest Court in the Land.

Why Trayvon? Did you notice the Obama bragging to his fellow travelers, ex-Coomie bastards from the KGB that once he is re-elected he can do whatever the Hell he wants and there ain't nothin' the bitter clingers can do about it?

Why the hoopla?  I have no answers. But it is something to think about.

My inner Nostradamus is kicking in about now. I think the Black Community is getting frenzied for a reason. I think should The One be fired in November we will see cities aflame reminiscent of the heady days of Rodney King. Places like East L.A., and Newark, and Gary, and East St. Louis and Detroit will wash in violence and flame and hatred. Chicago just might again be the hot town celebrated in Mrs. O'Leary's day.

Someone has a plan.  Someone is behind all of this. Someone is trying to find the spark to set the American Reichstag aflame.  Who, Why?

Amen, brother

I would put a link, but you will not click it. You never click the links, you link haters. Instead I am going to lift the whole post and hope he does not mind. James Old Guy has it it dead on:

The truth is the majority of people who actually work, pay taxes and have a daily fight to make ends meet don’t really give a fuck about anything other than their own little piece of this planet. We have a government that is more interested in pandering to special interest groups than the majority of hard working people in this country. This can be said for both political parties and personally I am tired of it , very tired. I tired of stupid and lazy people, we have a country full of shitheads, people who can’t think, people who refuse to realize that life is not fair, everything cost something, and there is no free lunch. We elect pretty boys and so called smart women to positions that they are not even close to being qualified to fill. The end is coming , it is too late to fix, the things that made this country great are forgotten or thrown on the trash pile by special interest groups. The middle class is going away, and in my point of view we can blame the fucking liberal atheist racist democrats and the worthless utra conservatives for the destruction. May you all rot in hell.

From here  

I wish I had said that.

Done

I had hoped to make it to 200,000 readers.

Seven years of my crap is enough.