Fashion Statement / Friday Five

Sometimes I think my brain is going to explode with questions and the desire for knowledge. For example, a certain question bothered me a good portion of the very early morning hours. It is acceptable that women have breast enlargements. They wear padded bras, push up bras, all sorts of paraphenalia to increase their sexuality. Yet if we were to see a man wearing a codpiece, or even using a rolled up sock or maybe a roll of quarters in his jockeys to increase his "bulge", said man would be met with ridicule. 'Splain that to me Lucy.

It is Friday and the last unofficial weekend of summer. Time to put away your white shoes, ladies. In honor of this occasion the new and improved favorite five debuts today. List in the comments your five favorite songs that remind you of summer. It does not have to be the Beach Boys, but rather that song that takes you back to cruising the strip, that special girl under your arm. What song reminds you of the burning of a doobie on a summer evening, the taste of beer while the tunes pounded out of the speakers, the feel of your sweaty back and legs as they stuck to the vinyl of the seat in your un-air conditioned car or truck? What were you playing on the transistor while you painted Grandma's garage? Who grooved you at the pool or beach? What song evokes memories of teenage life in those carefree days of summer vacation? Those are the songs for this week's Friday Favorites.

Contribute or else Tinkerbell will die.

edit: I have added several new links over there on the right. Visit them all. Hey, if you ain't linking to the Hoosierboy, why not?

Hello Blogworld

I had a very nice business meeting in the Chicago area today, it was a long drive there and back. Will the construction ever end on the Chicago Interstate system? The trip from 294 to I80 East is hell. There were two wrecks on the Indy west side that made the drive about 40 minutes longer than it should have.

I think I will move the favorite five poll to Friday, Friday Five has a certain symmetry I think.

The hype/scare/panic about Eduardo has begun anew for the Carolinas. Unfortunately the calling of official emergencies a week before the storm strikes gives a whole "cry wolf" atmosphere. Who will listen next time when a storm is coming?

Long weekend coming up, I am ready! We just have to get through Friday. Is the Friday prior to a long weekend the most unproductive day ever?

Five Favorite

This week I challenge you to name your five favorite comedy movies. Here is the catch -- they must have been filmed in black and white! Put on your thinking caps and remember days gone by. I bet you are just jumping up and down and spitting out wooden nickels on this category -- hey, HB got TCM!

Extra points if you name an Esther Williams movie. Oh, and the Three Stooges count.

Boudreaux the Baptist

Boudreaux, a Cajun highlander from Rapides Parish in central Louisiana, was
an older, single gentleman, who was born and raised a Baptist, living in
South Louisiana.

Each Friday night after work, he would fire up his outdoor grill and cook
a venison steak. Now, all of Boudreaux's neighbors were Catholic... and
since it was Lent, they were forbidden from eating meat on Fridays. The
delicious aroma from the grilled venison steaks was causing such a problem
for the Catholic faithful that they finally talked to their priest.

The priest came to visit Boudreaux, and suggested that Boudreaux convert
to Catholicism. After several classes and much study, Boudreaux attended Mass... and as the priest sprinkled holy water over him, he said, "You were born a Baptist
and raised a Baptist, but now you are Catholic."

Boudreaux's neighbors were greatly relieved, until Friday night arrived,
and the wonderful aroma of grilled venison filled the neighborhood. The
priest was called immediately by the neighbors and, as he rushed into
Boudreaux's yard, clutching a rosary and prepared to scold him, he stopped
in amazement and watched. There stood Boudreaux, clutching a small bottle
of water which he carefully sprinkled over the grilling meat, and chanted:
"You wuz born a deer, and you wuz raised a deer, but now you a catfish."

Musical results

Hah, I am so disappointed not one of you tried to curry points and name a Esther Williams movie. That chick was so hot and was my teenage crush.

here are the top vote getters all with three votes:

West Side Story, Paint your Wagon, Phantom of the Opera and the vile Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Here is my list:

Sound of Music, Wizard of Oz, Pal Joey, Singing in the Rain, and any movie with Julie Andrews or Esther Williams.

Just for kicks, let us look at the beautiful Ms Williams again.

Start thinking about comedies.

Blame Bush

The lets relive Katrina parade is getting a little old already. The take from every reporter is pretty much the same -- Blame Bush. Every station and newspaper might as well have been written by the same person. Bush did nothing to help the poor soles in New Orleans. Even the worthless former FEMA chief blamed Bush this morning. He said he was only following White House talking points.

Look, the Federal Government's response was horrible, but we all know where the blame lies. Local and State Governments are responsible for protecting the citizens. The State National Guards are under the authority of the Governor. The response of the Mayor of NOLA, "Chocolate Nagin" is the primary cause of the catastrophe at the time and why the city remains a war zone today.

In know I am spitting into a hurricane gale, but that hurricane hit Mississippi harder, yet we are not hearing the same "help me " blame Bush stories. Unbiased reporting my ass.

Why bother, if you read this site regularly you know the truth.

A Modern Pied Piper

The mayor of Houston Texas was very worried about a plague of
pigeons in Houston. The mayor could not remove the pigeons from
the city. All of Houston was full of pigeon poop. The people of
Houston couldn't walk on the sidewalks or drive on the roads. It was
costing a fortune to try to keep the streets and sidewalks clean.

One day a man came to City Hall and offered the Mayor a proposition.
"I can rid your beautiful city of its plague of pigeons without cost to
the city. But, you must promise not to ask me any questions. Or,
you can pay me five million dollars and ask one question." The mayor
considered the offer briefly and accepted the free proposition.

The next day the man climbed to the top of City Hall, opened his coat,
and released a red pigeon. The red pigeon circled in the air and flew
up into the bright blue Texas sky. All the pigeons in Houston saw
the red pigeon. They gathered up behind the red pigeon. The Houston
pigeons followed the red pigeon as she flew eastward out of the city.

The next day the red pigeon returned completely alone to the man
atop City Hall. The Mayor was very impressed. He thought the man
and the red pigeon had performed a wonderful miraculous feat to rid
Houston of the plague of pigeons.

Even though the man with the pigeon had charged nothing, the mayor
presented him with a check for 5 million dollars and told the man that,
indeed, he did have a question to ask and even though they had agreed to
no fee and the man had rid the city of pigeons, he decided to pay the five
million just to get to ask ONE question.

The man accepted the money and told the mayor to ask his question.

The mayor asked: "Do you have any red Mexicans?"

Manic Monday

It is raining, I am tired, horny, and in no mood to deal with the bullshit that litters my email inbox. I have expense reports to do and if you have ever had to deal with that, you know from whence I complain.

This is not original, but it shall be the theme of the day:

Mondays suck.

These are real

The Top 10 Unintentionally Worst Company URLs

Everyone knows that if you are going to operate a business in today's
world you need a domain name. It is advisable to look at the domain
name selected as others see it and not just as you think it looks.
Failure to do this may result in situations such as the following
legitimate companies who deal in everyday humdrum products and
services but clearly didn't give their domain names enough
consideration.

1. A site called 'Who Represents' where you can find the name of the
agent that represents a celebrity. Their domain name is
http://www.whorepresents.com/ < BR>
2. Experts Exchange, a knowledge base where programmers can exchange
advice and views at http://www.expertsexchange.com/


3. Looking for a pen? Look no further than Pen Island at
http://www.penisland.net/

4. Need a therapist? Try Therapist Finder at http://www.therapistfinder.com/


5. Then of course, there's the Italian Power Generator company:
http://www.powergenitalia.com/

6. And now, we have the Mole Station Native Nursery, based in N ew
South Wales: http://www.molestationnursery.com/


7. If you're looking for computer software, there's always
http://www.ipanywhere.com/

8. Welcome to the First Cumming Methodist Church. Their w ebsite is
http://www.cummingfirst.com/

9. Then, of course, there are these brainless art designers, and their
whacky website: http://www.speedofart.com/

10. Want to holiday in Lake Tahoe? Try their brochure website at
http: //www.gotahoe.com/

And that makes nine

My Very Excellent Mother Just Served Up Nine Pizzas.

Who put these guys in Charge anyway? A bunch of eggheads have joined together in Europe and have decided Pluto, the little guy at the edge of the galaxy, is no longer a planet. I call bullshit. Where are the liberals on this issue? Just because it has a wobbly orbit, it is a bit smaller than the other boys, the bully scientists want to kick it off the team. What happened to inclusion? What about celebrating interplanetary diversity? Who is next Uranus? Neptune? One of those guys spins on its side. One has a funny name. When will the insults end?

I refuse to agree. Pluto, God of the underworld, Mickey's dog, little lost ice ball on the edge of the solar system. You will find it safe here, no insults, no being lumped with drifting chunks of ice and moons. You are a full planet to me, otherwise the mnemonic at the beginning of this post makes no sense.

Good gravy

White Gravy

You can use multiples, I usually make a triple batch for my family.

2 T drippings
2 T flour
1 C milk

Always keep these proportions.

Add drippings to hot skillet over medium high. Stir in flour and cook for about 1 minute, stirring constantly. Add milk slowly, stirring constantly make sure you break up any lumps NOW. Add salt and pepper to taste. Cook until thick about 15 minutes keeping a constant boil, stirring constantly. This recipe always works.

Some people use the shaker jar method, this one always does better for me, as the flour cooks just like you are making a roux, so the gravy always thickens perfectly.

Little Trooper

Hold your left hand out palm down. Imagine the large bones in your arm are now pushed underneath your palm. Maybe a better way to put it is instead of the hand attached at the wrist to the end of your arm bones, your hand is on top of the broken ends of your arm bones. Does that image make you queasy? Imagine it was your own son's arm.

Yep, yesterday morning the little one broke his arm in PE class, playing touch football. Typical, he lamented the fact he was just breaking a big run around the end when he slipped on the grass and fell on his outstretched arm, bending the hand back and breaking it in the manner described above. Baseball and football are done for the fall.

After spending the morning in the ER, the forenoon in the Specialists office, and the evening at the hospital where surgery was required to set the bones, he came home late last night in considerable pain. Throughout the ordeal he mostly complained he was hungry. Of course they would not allow him to eat or drink all day. He has always said he wanted to be a doctor. When I asked him if he still wanted to be a doctor yesterday he said "NO, I am not going to school for 8 years so I can ask someone 15 times when was the last time they ate."

He has a cast from above his elbow to his fingers. He will miss at least the rest of the week of school, and he is already bored. He remains in good humor and the doctor said there is only a small chance there will be issues with the broken growth plate. So here we sit, watching Simpson DVDs; a smile on his face, worry in my heart.

Roundabout

I fried up some cube steaks last night and served them with buttered corn, mashed potatoes and gravy. I make my own gravy according to my grandma's recipe. It is always good, always perfect. If you want to know how to make perfect white gravy let me know.

I have not commented on the little one and the football team. In a past post I worried he would not be given a chance, and I was right. Last year he beat out all of the 6th graders to win the starting QB slot for the all star football team, and played well. This year, under new coaches at the middle school (7th grade) he was not given an opportunity. When asked what he played he said QB, and they said "well go over there with the other backs". ALL of the skilled positions on first team were given to basketball players. He is second string wing back. Welcome to Indiana -- if you play basketball, you must be the best at everything. The kid playing ahead of him at his position is smaller, slower and did not even make the all star team last year. He has not grown, either. There was no tryout, no competition to see who was better, just slotted in positions on the first day of practice. The coaches always lament the fact that so many kids do not come out for sports teams in the second year -- Hmmm, I wonder why? The little one is getting some practice time at safety and special teams. He is disappointed, but seems to be enjoying the experience. He came home with blood running down his leg yesterday -- his response "it is nothing". The cheerleaders decorated all of the players lockers yesterday; guess who got skipped? Oh well, he cheerfully goes to practice. He is a straight A student in the advanced classes. He already knows there is more to life than sports. He has watched his parents enough to know life ain't fair. He is a good boy.

I can accept the cruelties of life, but it is sure hard to watch your kids get fucked over -- the oldest boy at his concert debut (see below, I am too lazy to link today), the little one here. My dad always said our family was cursed with bad luck, I sure would like to see the cycle broken some day.

Favorite five

This week tell me your five favorite musicals.

Any movie that includes my favorite all time hottie musical actress will get extra credit. That is her, over there on the right.

Note, just because I like musicals does not make me gay or anything. Does it?

War movies -- The results

Here are the votes as computed by the accounting firm of Yourfu King Nutts and Kiddingme:

Saving Private Ryan(7)
We Were Soldiers (6)
Band of Brothers (5)

Five movies got three votes.

Here is my list in no order:

The Alamo
The Patriot
Gettysburg
Full Metal Jacket
In Harms Way
The Green Berets
Saving Private Ryan
The Blue Max
Midway
The Dirty Dozen

I get many votes -- my survey.

Masturbating Goats

I will freely admit I am not the smartest guy that ever lived. I am pretty sure Isaac Newton (the cookie guy?) and Albert Einstein were both smarter than I. At least one person in my graduating class in college has me to thank for his ability to claim on his first resume that he graduated in the top 1/2 of his class (you wordsmiths out there try to top that for the most pronouns in one sentence).

Our city has an ordinance that says all trash must be in bags, and in a garbage can. The city claims this speeds the collection effort, reduces overtime, etc. There are actually fines in place for noncompliance. Every week I watch the garbage men open the cans and remove the bags one by one and throw them in the back of the truck. How can this possible be faster than when I and my neighbors put the trash bags next to the curb?

I need a high paying job in city management. The time study on that ordinance would take about 5 minutes to complete.

On the wish I had a camera phone front #2:

There is one of those roadside stands down the highway from my house that sells produce, flowers, yard ornaments, sunglasses, beach towels... Anyway they have a big orange sign out front that reads:

All ceament and concreat 50% or have off

It has been there two weeks now. Even I know "have off" is not right!

Pygmy Sex

I will be trying out new titles this week to try and attract some of the weird google hits you guys get, thanks for your suggestions.

I have designed a Hoosierboy T shirt. I have already made arrangements with Wal Mart to stock them. If you see a fellow Fat in Indiana fan wearing this shirt give them the Hoosierboy super secret sign -- a little wave at waist level. If they respond in any manner, you will know they are in the club. Email me pictures of you wearing the Hoosierboy T shirt and I will post them on the site. Eat me Frank J, I gots me T shirts now too! I plan on wearing one when I visit a customer later this week (under my dress shirt). Buy it. Wear it. Spread the love.

The oldest boy was a little disappointed in his concert debut. He said the "old guys" running the event were total assholes. Most of the bands and audience are thirty somethings, and they asked some local high school bands to play ( there is a pretty good music scene in this small town with several high school bands). The boy said the sound guy kept randomly turning down the instruments as they were playing so they could not hear the notes. He said the guy would turn down the guitar during the verse and turn it way up during the chorus. He said the sound and light guy were laughing there asses off at the band's increasing confusion and resulting missed notes. It made the band look and sound bad. White trash assholes never change.

A failure to communicate

I neglected to post something yesterday. I am sure you all cried yourselves to sleep last night in despair.

We dropped the daughter back to college yesterday, it was a little easier than last year, but still tough. I do not know which is harder, being a parent or knowing the kid does not need you in the same way any more. My Mom says you never stop worrying -- she is right.

What is unique about the following?:

I MAIM NINE MEN IN MIAMI

The coffee is done. Have a great Sunday.

We are off to Columbus, IN to watch the little one play a baseball double header this afternoon. I have many things I should do, but what the heck. The oldest boy is making his stage debut playing bass and guitar at a local music fest today. He is jazzed, but says he does not want us to come listen and watch. "That would be too weird" he told us. He invited his sister, but as I said, she is at school.

Friday

For some reason I rarely get those weird Google hits so many of you get. I am not sure why, I guess it is my pure as driven snow reputation. Fuzzy kittens and bunnies and newborn lambs are more the images I associate with Fat in Indiana.

Does anyone else find it weird and disturbing to continue to get hits from Gutrumbles? Yabu is probably right it is bad juju to keep a link to a dead man, but I cannot find it in me to delete the link. Acidman inspired me to try this blog thing (like many of you) and was free to offer advice when I started (like he did many of you). I wish I had the courage to lay my personal life out for all to see, but I was not raised that way, it goes against my nature. Hell, only my brother Otter in my family even knows about this site (to the best of my knowledge).

What is the point of this post? Hell if I know. Have a good weekend. Remember if you are not promoting Hoosierboy, you should be supporting someone who is.

Just another argument

Airplanes, ports, bridges, subways and shopping malls cannot ever be sanitized against every type of attack that can be dreamed up by fanatics engaged in asymmetrical warfare. We have to target the fanatics themselves. Baby formula doesn't kill people. Islamic fascists kill people.

--- Ann Coulter


read it all here.

This guy is funny as hell

Go read him, tell him I sent you in the comments. If he keeps posting I will add a link.

Thursday Grab Bag

So the Prime Minister or President or whatever title he gives himself of Lebanon says that Israel are the terrorists, that the US is to blame for the deaths in his country. He calls the Hezbullys "freedom fighters" and says without them Israel would be occupying his palace. The new spin -- Israel started the whole thing. Syria is a great friend to Lebanon he also said. I guess the question of where Hezbollah got the missiles is cleared up? What a great deal Condi brokered -- the instigators of the war are given back the territory they lost, the bunkers and arms caches are not to be disturbed and Hezbollah is not to be disarmed. Rice tells us with a straight face this will be a lasting peace. Fuck 'em. The next time I bet Israel does not back off and we should encourage them to unleash the dogs of war. How many of the "peace keeping force" from the Lebanese army are Hezbullahs now in uniform or Syrian Army or Iranian Republican Guard?

CAIR is throwing a fit -- the President cannot refer to the terrorists as Islamic Fascists. We now refer to them as "people who want to do harm to our country". Fuck that. CAIR is a partner with Hamas a terrorist group. Why can't we call a spade a spade or a raghead a raghead? Reality here GW -- the people who are trying to kill us ARE Islamic Fascists. Not every Muslim is a terrorist. Nearly every terrorist IS a Muslim. Of course they should be profiled at the airport. If a 7 foot redhead Caucasian male robbed a bank, would the police stop little old ladies and afro-Americans? Of course not. They might question one or two innocent tall red heads, but they would not waste there time on people who do not fit the description. If you are a male of Arabic descent between the age of 18 and 45, and have Ali or Muhammad or Mustafah etc. in your name, sorry but you are getting strip searched at the airport. Get your buddies to stop the killing and we can all move on. While I am on a roll, what kind of sick religion indicates it is Ok to use your kid as a human splodybomb? Look, I have my religious opinions, others have theirs (that are probably wrong) and in the END we will find out who is correct. I cannot imagine a God that condones the strapping of bombs to your baby or little kid. I think there is a Hell and those people will be stoking the fires with a red hot pitchfork up their ass.

If the lady on the plane diverted to Boston was just "claustrophobic" why did we divert fighter jets to escort it to the ground? Why were all of the passengers luggage subjected to search? Why were bomb dogs brought in? I know the Government does not tell us everything, but I know a lie when I hear it.

This is just the tip of the iceberg of things pissing me off today. More may come after I have some coffee.

Hit the road Jack

I am off to the Northern reaches of the Hoosier State (why is South Bend in the North?)so I do not have time for a real post. Vote for your favorite war movie down below a few posts. Do it for the children. Vote now or Tinkerbell will die. The lives of kittens and puppies depend on your participation. Do it for world peace, damn it!

Fire up the wayback machine

Remember the old films in school "You were there"? Well where were you on this date in 1969?

Lonely

The house is quiet. The kids are back to school, the wife back to work. I guess that means summer is over. My daughter returns to college this weekend. It seems I hardly got to see her this summer, that is the result of her working two jobs.

It is easier to work when no one is here, but I miss the distractions of my family. I cannot believe school is started, now we will have the fights about homework, going to bed, getting up early.

I miss summer already.

War, hmph, what is it good for?

Name your five favorite war movies of all time. Post your votes in the comments. I will give you my choices and the results of your voting next week.

Be like the Chicago Democrats -- vote early and often! Your participation is crucial -- common lurkers, now is your time to be heard!

Muslims? We don't need no stinkin' Muslims

I found this link over at Charming just charming. It is one of the best written and well thought pieces on the world situation today. I wish I had written it. Read it. I will wait.

Tell me and prove to me the article is wrong. That is an open challenge.

Western Results

The results of the Big Western Poll are in and Unforgiven was the clear favorite western of Fat in Indiana readers. Clint Eastwood movies were favored over the Duke, that could be a sign of my reader's demographics.

Here are the winners in order:

Unforgiven (4)
Outlaw Josey Wales (3)
Lonesome Dove (3)
Tombstone (3)
Ten other movies got two votes

John Wayne westerns received lots of votes, but they were spread over a variety of titles. That may be a reflection on the number and quality of his work, everyone liked them all I guess. I was surprised Paint your Wagon received multiple votes, I cannot stand that movie. I think every Clint Eastwood western except Pale Rider got votes. That one is one of my personal favorites.

Here is my list:

Outlaw Josey Wales
Big Jake
Pale Rider
Shane
Hang em High

Open Range also gets a vote, it is my poll! I have read hundreds of westerns and hands down the Lonesome Dove trilogy is the greatest western ever written. I have not seen the entire miniseries, so it did not get my vote. If the series is half as good as the book, it would be number one in my list.

hah

This guy is walking with his friend, who happens to be a psychologist. He says to this friend, "I'm a walking economy."
The friend asks, "How so?"

"My hair line is in recession, my stomach is a victim of inflation, and both of these together are putting me into a deep depression!"

Last one

In the back to school spirit.

World Trade

I went to see the movie World Trade last night. I will reluctantly admit I did not want to see the movie. I was afraid it would open wounds and the floodgate of emotions I was not sure I wanted reopened. Then there was the Oliver Stone factor, his leanings are not unknown and the last thing I wanted to see was a blame Bush conspiracy theory.

The movie was brilliant. It captured the horror and confusion of the day without being too graphic. It is free of politics. My only complaint was the idiots behind me who gave a running narration to each other throughout the film -- "The towers are going to collapse", "He is going to die if they do not get out soon". Once again I was a victim of the VCR generation.

I found my emotional reaction interesting, as the movie continued, the toll on the victims, the families, the rescue workers, the citizens of our nation made me angry. By the movies end my resolve to back the nation's war on terror strengthened. The depraved, sick individuals that brought such human suffering must be brought to justice. The realization that these assholes tried again just this week makes my anger build to a rage.

I watched some woman go apeshit yesterday on CNN because the President had referred to the terrorists as Islamic Fascist. She said he was spreading hate. WTF? Why can't we say it like it is? Islamicists did the WTC, and they tried to do it again this week. These raghead Muslims have caused 99.9% of the violence in the mideast, yet there are some who do not want to call a spade a spade. These people hate us not because of our language , our skin color, our racial purity, but because we are not adherents to the teachings of a child molester who wrote the Koran. Period. Wake up and eat the bacon, these people hate us because we are a free society, not living under Islamic law. EOS. See the movie, it is good to remember why we are fighting.

Laugher for the day

You are on a horse, galloping at a constant speed. On your right side is a sharp drop off, and on your left side is an elephant traveling at the same speed as you. Directly in front of you is a galloping kangaroo and your horse is unable to overtake it. Behind you is a lion running at the same speed as you and the Kangaroo. What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?
Get your drunk butt off the merry-go-round!

I may have posted this before. It is still funny

A man was sitting on a blanket on the beach.
He had no arms and no legs.
Three women were walking past and felt sorry for the poor man.

The first woman said "Have you ever had a hug?"
The man said "No," so she gave him a hug and walked on.

The second woman said "Have you ever had a kiss?"
The man said "No," so she gave him a kiss and walked on.

The third woman walked over to him and whispered in his ear "Have
you ever been f****d?"
The fellow looked up in amazement and said "No." She replied, "You
will be when the tide comes in."

Blame Otter, he sent it.

Just a post before I go

Does anyone still think those missing Egyptian students is no big deal?

Don't go changin'

I have made some additions to the blogroll. The best way to find out what is new is to just click and read every site over there on the right. They are all worth your time (except Queenie who refuses to post. Every time I take her off the old blogroll she starts up again. It is principle of the thing now).

How to meet women and score in the bedroom

Have you answered the Big Western poll below? I need your responses.

Sorry, if you came here for advice on getting laid you got fooled. I have been married for 22 years, I cannot help you. Maybe this post title will get me some hits -- hey, the Dragon got 30 comments on a post about group masturbation -- where is my love?

I watched the first disk of the new Pink Floyd concert DVD "Pulse" that came out recently. It is the 1994 concert in Royal Albert Hall. So far pretty cool. Welcome to my boring life. Sitting in a Courtyard hotel in Fort Wayne, watching a concert filmed 12 years ago. I bet you wish you had my life. Lunch at Applebees, dinner at Cracker Barrel and a long boring evening in the hotel typing posts to a blog.

In the spirit of my evening so far -- I wish you were here.

The post below about books got me to thinking. What was the first "adult" book you read? Not pornography, but novel with adult themes? I think it was "The Summer of '42" for me. Mom made the mistake of leaving it out on the table one day. I could read very fast in those days, and read constantly. I am sure I finished it in one day. In my teens it was not unusual for me to read for 12 or more hours in a day. Mom was not thrilled when she saw me reading the book, but I was almost done. She asked me if I had any questions. Nope, but after seeing the movie a few years later, I wanted to get laid by Jennifer O'Neill too. I am not sure when I read this book, it had to be the early 1970's. I guess I am going to head to the library one of these days and see if I can find a copy of this old classic.

Don't forget to vote for your favorite western!

The wording of a test is important

Blonde Geometry

After careful scrutiny, it is our understanding that the blonde student was given credit for the answer, but the board of education has warned math teachers to be more explicit in the future.







a tip of the old stetson to Otter

Memed

I usually do not place well with others, a true character fault. Alli at Fox Rants memed me, and well, since it is Alli, one of my very first readers, I will play along.

One book that changed your life.
"Tucker" by Louis L'Amour. My grandfather gave it to me to read and it began a 10 year reading relationship with th Western Novel.

One book that you have read more than once.
"Flight of the Intruder" by Stephen Coonts

One book that you would want on a desert island.
The Aubry / Maturin series by O'Brien or the any series by WEB Griffin. If it is one book -- War and Peace -- at least it will take a while to read (it is also pretty good)

One book that made you laugh.
Any book written by Tim Dorsey

One book that made you cry
The one by John Grisham where the little kid witnesses the murder, I cannot remember the title


one book you wish had been written.
Tom Sawyer

One book you wish had never been written.
The Koran

One book you are currently reading.
"Memorial Day" by Vince Flynn, but I cannot get into it

One book you have been meaning to read.
A Farwell to Arms by Hemingway

Now tag five people
You, you, you, you, and You.

Westerns

I am not smart enough to put one of those polls into my post. I will have to take this survey in my comments. Name the five best western movies ever made, ranked in order.

I will publish my votes and the results later in the week.

More trailers

The last of the WTF? Signs

Hooters and Cuddleshack

My daughter(20)has a list of summer goals on her wall. It includes the usual lose ten pounds etc. One of the goals is to beat Mom and Dad at Cards. She and her boyfriend have tried all summer to beat us in Euchre to no avail.

Saturday they went to the drive-in movie, another of the goals since her boyfriend had never been to one. When they came home I was watching Hoosiers on TV. They pushed us to play, and since I have seen the movie about 50 times I reluctantly agreed. While we were getting the cards out the boyfriend mentioned he had never seen Hoosiers. Later we were talking about the famous scene in Caddyshack where the Baby Ruth is found in the pool. My daughter said she had not seen Caddyshack.

I told them I could not believe it," He has never seen Hooters, and you Cuddleshack?" The boyfriend burst out laughing and the daughter turned about ten shades of red. Doctor Freud, call your office.

Anyway, they finally won a game of Euchre after trying for almost a year. The spouse and I won two of three though. I told the wife later it had been a long time since I saw hooters. She was not amused and did not show me any. Such is life.

redux

This has been one of the most difficult years of my life. Read the last paragraph of the "Loser" post below. Each of your visits, your comments, your support has made the rough times bearable. I guess I did not state that well or clearly enough. Sure, I have not won life's sweepstakes, but I am in the race. Sometimes that is good enough.

Thanks.


I took down the picture of the little one.

This week's Trailer

Redneck cookout

Beautiful Loser

A few years ago my mother gave me a box of "stuff", it was all the school pictures, report cards, artwork, etc. she had saved over the years. The trashheap of my childhood. There were homemade cards for Mother's day, and birthdays I had made. I could not spell as a child either.

In the box were various ribbons from my athletic days. There were ribbons from my brief cross country career and from many wrestling meets and tourneys. There were no blue, only one red, I think. Most were for participation or, in the case of cross country, double digit placements. Whoohoo, I got 37th at the Northwestern Invitational -- way to go! There were some third place for wrestling, but not once did I raise my arms a champion. A loser always. I think the only thing I ever won was a history contest in the eighth grade. I overheard the comments as I walked by, "He won?, I did not think he was that smart."

Some things never change. I console myself that in the game of life most of us participate, few win. I know there are many worse off than I. I have a house, a car, a wonderful family, a good job. I continue to pay for financial mistakes I made fifteen or twenty years ago. My cars are old, my garage cluttered. My bathroom needs remodeling. My house is too small for my family. Paying for my daughter's college is killing me. I would have it no other way.

The point is just once, I would like to have that feeling of being a champion, a winner, the best. I would like to be able to tell you I am good at something. I joke that at least one person in my graduating class in college had me to thank that he could say he was in the top 50% of his graduating class on his resume. Some of you know my real name is Joe; Average Joe. If they had such a vote I would be elected most forgettable. I live in an average house in an average town. I have few good friends and lots of acquaintances. I do not know my neighbors, but I always wave hello. If I were to quit writing this blog most of you would bat nary an eye. We all want to leave a mark. Mine will be a footprint in the early morning's wet grass, and about as long lasting.

Rest assured, this is not a poor me, I hope I die post. I believe in the existence of God simply by the fact that he gives us a new day every 24 hours. Another chance. One more opportunity to get it right, to be a champion, a winner. I have accepted my lot in life. Happiness is where you find it. That is why I get such a kick when you come here to read my crap. In a long-winded poor Hoosierboy way I am saying Thanks. I really do appreciate it.

Schools out for the summer -- but not much longer

The wife took the little one to register for school just now. That is depressing. Only about two more weeks of summer. They are going back too early, if you ask me. I am sure the little one feels he had no summer, baseball took up much of the vacation. He would not change, but it is disappointing to look back and see you made no trips, no amusement parks, nothing but baseball games every weekend.

In Indiana you have to "rent" the textbooks. For my Senior and seventh grader book rental will be nearly $500. That does not include the $100 plus we will have to spend on notebooks, folders, paper, pens, pencils, etc. that the teachers will demand. Admittedly, the oldest boy's classes are expensive because he is taking two art classes, and the supplies are not cheap, but still, it is $150 for the little one alone.

Football begins on Monday. We have some practice to do. The little one is also playing fall baseball. He has not picked up a mitt or bat in about two weeks, so we will have to knock off a little rust before our first practice on Sunday. They move to a regular sized field for the fall league and play by major league rules -- it will be quite a change. He has played those rules before, but it will still be an adjustment. Of course, he has not thrown a football since last fall -- there is more than a little rust needs to be polished! He plays for the middle school team this year. That will be an adjustment. He is still pretty small.

Those of you who live in a small town will understand the hurtles he will face. We have lived here about 16 years. Neither my wife nor I grew up here. We did not play sports here. We are still in many respects "outsiders". Often you are picked for teams because your father was a good athlete, or because the coach went to school with your mom. If he gets a fair chance, he is the best quarterback in the seventh grade. If they base the decision like they often do -- who is the best basketball player (this is Indiana) he will not be given a fair opportunity. Last year he made the "all star" football team that traveled to play in some tournaments. He beat out three other kids for the full-time QB position. He will compete against the same group this year, just different coaches. We will see what happens, he is worried, he knows how things work. Your name means more than your ability sometimes. He has dealt with similar situations in every sport he plays. They look at his size and dismiss him. He will out work, out hustle, and out play nearly every kid, and he takes a hit like no one else his size. If given a chance he will earn the position. I only hope they give him the opportunity to prove himself.

Anyway, to the point of this post: it is too early to go back to school. It will sure be quiet here at the home office when they do.

An elephant's memory

In 1986, Mkele Mbembe was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from college.
On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air.
The elephant seemed distressed so Mbembe approached it very carefully.
He got down on one knee and inspected the elephant's foot, and found a large thorn deeply embedded in it.
As carefully and as gently as he could, Mbembe worked the thorn out with his hunting knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot.

The elephant turned to face the man and with a rather stern look on its face, stared at him.
For several tense moments Mbembe stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled.
Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned and walked away.
Mbembe never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.
Twenty years later he was walking through a zoo with his teenaged son.
As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Mbembe and his son Tapu were standing.

The large bull elephant stared at Mbembe and lifted its front foot off the ground then put it down.
The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.
Remembering the encounter in 1986, Mbembe couldn't help wondering if this was the same elephant.
Mbembe summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing and made his way into the enclosure.
He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder.
Suddenly the elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of the man's legs and swung him wildly back and forth along the railing, killing him.

Probably wasn't the same elephant !!!!!!!!!


from my Dad

Coffee Breath

Yesterday I found myself really wishing I had one of those camera phones. I saw a business in East Dubuque, IL that just cracked me up. It was called "Family Beer and Liquor" If you do not find that amusing you are at the wrong website.

I visited US Grant's home in Galena, IL yesterday morning (that is it up there on the left). I arrived right at nine am, as the doors opened. I was the first tour of the day, and needless to say, I was the only member of my tour group. The docent gave a nice presentation, but insisted in talking right in my face. This guy had the most fetid breath I have smelt in a long time. It was horrid, I think the guy must have had a garlic and onion omelet and lots of coffee for breakfast. It was so bad I just wanted to leave, and you know how I love the Civil War and all associated with it.

I stayed in one of those "suite" type hotels last night. There were several kids across the hall. The parents not only let the brats run up and down the hall all evening, but actually encouraged it. I heard the mom say at least twice, "why don;t you go out in the hall and run?" Plus, I got the room next to the elevator, a great experience all around.

I will be back home tonight. I am ready.

Cool Cat, Looking for a Kitty

It is all over the news this morning, -- record heat, we are all going to die, global warming, blah, blah. It is summer, it does this EVERY year around this time. Look, if we were really in the middle of global warming the records broken would be from last year, last week, yesterday. Most of the records being broken were set decades ago. How does Algore explain that?

Alarmist tell us one of the reasons we know the heat is worse is the number of deaths. I say the deaths are increasing for a variety of reasons. First, many that are dying are the elderly. People live much longer than they used to. One hundred years ago some of these people would have died from disease and injury. Two, I believe we are softer than in the past. As little as 40 years ago many homes and cars did not have air conditioning. You become more accustomed to the heat. Now we run from our air conditioned home to our air conditioned car to our air conditioned office. We spend little time outside. We do not get gradually acclimated to the heat over the course of spring and summer.

I used to work in a factory that was very hot. The ambient temperature year round was around ninety degrees farenheit. In the summer temperatures often reached well above 100. Just married, our little two bedroom house had no air conditioning. I would sit under the ceiling fans, warm, but not uncomfortable. The wife worked in an air conditioned office, she found the house sweltering. It is all what you get used to.

It is hot. Stay inside, wear loose light clothing and drink plenty of fluids. In fewer weeks than we want to admit we will be bitching about the cold. Football camp is in session.

Oh, in a completely unrelated note, I hope you die Fidel.

Otter's Rants

Way to go Cubs…since you were mathematically eliminated again this year before the All-Star break – get rid of everyone that could help next year…
Oh well, as the traditional Cub saying goes –“Wait ‘til next year”
Go Red Sox? Now I don't care as long as it isn't the Yankees.

Foggy morning blues

Do you ever write something you really like? The title to this post is one of those. I also really like the title to the post down below called "Pineapple Dreams". If I ever write a book or a song one or both of those phrases will be the title. Consider them both copyrighted.

I read a line yesterday I thought was cool: "Failure is an opportunity to start over". I think it is safe to say I am getting tired of restarts, I am ready to finish the race.

It is foggy here this morning. Another hot humid day is on tap. I need to mow, maybe I will, maybe I won't.

Have you noticed the change in reporting on the Israel; /Hisbully situation? At first it was all "Go Israel", now the tone is reverting to pro Arab. I heard an interview on Fox or CNN or whatever yesterday while channel surfing. This Lebanese guy was blaming the US! He said that Israel and the US were to blame for everything. I may not be up on the news, but I am pretty sure we have bombed no one in Lebanon, yet.

Mucho traveling is on slate for the first half of the week. Posting will be light, depending on internet availability at the hotel/motels I choose. Otter, post at will.

More Trailers

24(Like the Show) Otter Style- Kind Of

The following takes place on Thursday, 28 July 2006
1:00 PM– Arrive at Indianapolis airport late from my meeting.
1:20 PM- Arrive at airline counter to find out my flight was cancelled.
1:23 PM – On standby for the 4:00 PM flight – booked on the 5:50 PM to Philly. Scheduled to be home at 9:30 PM
1:45 PM – Through security
1:46 – 3:45 PM – Reading and one of my favorite pastimes, people watching
3:55 PM – 4:00 flight is full
4:00 -5:35 PM - Reading and one of my favorite pastimes, people watching
5:38 PM – Boarding for Philly
6:02 PM – Announcement that we have a two hour ground hold from Philly due to weather.
6:08 PM – Deplane and rebook my puddle jumper flight from Philly. Scheduled to be home at 11:30 PM.
6:19 PM – Rebooked my flight from Indianapolis to Pittsburgh then Philly then the puddle jumper home. Scheduled to be home at 11:30 PM.
6:28 PM – Boarding for Pitt.
7:28 PM – Arrive Pitt for 8:05 PM flight to Philly.
7:37 PM – Flight to Philly delayed until 8:50 PM
8:47 PM – Flight to Philly delayed until 9:35 PM – Still OK on my puddle jumper connection – Pitt to Philly scheduled time 45 minutes – A lot of weather delays and the puddle jumper home leaves Philly at 10:45 PM. Still scheduled to be home at 11:30 PM.
9:15 PM- Boarding for Philly.
9:37 PM – On runway for takeoff.
9:38 PM – Announcement that we have a 45 minute ground hold. Next update at 10:30 PM.
9:45 PM – Scotch.
9:58 PM – More scotch.
10:13 PM – What the hell, one more scotch.
10:24 PM - Announcement that we have another 45 minute ground hold. Next update at 11:15 PM. Scheduled to be home at 11:30 PM?
10:30 PM – Return to the gate from the runway for more fuel. This impeded the scotch program damn it.
10:35 PM – Cleared to depart. Everyone back on the plane… Please don’t forget the fuel.
10:51 PM – Lift off……with the bad weather, 45 minute flight, there is still a chance that I will make my puddle jumper flight.
11:02 PM – Realize I would be home if I had driven.
11:30 PM – Due to weather, we are in a “holding pattern”. It’s OK because my friend Johnny Walker was with me.
11:45 PM – Cleared to land.
11:53 PM – Just kidding – in a “holding” pattern.
11:55 PM – One more scotch just “because” and they are free and I can.
Friday, 28 July 2006
12:06 AM – Cleared to land.
12:10 AM - Just kidding – in a “holding” pattern.
12:15 AM - One more scotch just “because” and they are free plus I can.
12:25 AM – Cleared to land.
12:35 AM – Land
12:38 AM – Optimism because the planes are backed up for takeoff….
12:47 AM – Customer service desk to check on the status of my puddle jumper.
12:50 AM – It’s gone……booked on the 8 AM flight. No hotels…only option is to sleep in the airport. So I decide to go to terminal my flight will leave from in the morning and sleep there.
12:57 AM – The info board in the main terminal shows my puddle jumper at the gate with a 1:15 AM departure! Scheduled to be home at 2:15 AM.
12:58 AM – The shuttle is not running. I will take the walk bridge that connects the terminals. The #$%@*% walk bridge is closed! Outside in the rain to get to the other terminal.
12:59 AM – Dead run…well at least for me. An old guy with a walker did pass me….
1:04 AM – Arrive at the terminal, only to see the security gate down. “I need….pant, pant….in for the puddle jumper flight at 1:15”….. The reply, “Do you have a boarding pass”? Hell no asshole – I enjoy running around Philly in the rain at 1 in the morning just to talk to you……. “Yes” I kindly reply. His retort, “Then you need to use a white courtesy phone to have an airline representative meet you at the security gate and escort you to your departing gate”. What the F***K. I have a boarding pass; I have to go across the entire terminal to get to my gate…I am out of breath, wet, and half drunk.
1:06 AM – Waiting for the page operator to answer the phone.
1:07 AM - Waiting for the page operator to answer the phone.
1:08 AM – Waiting for the page operator to answer the phone.
1:09 AM - Waiting for the page operator to answer the phone.
1:10 AM – Page complete…
1:14 AM – “Wat you wunt?” “I am trying to get on the puddle jumper flight at 1:15”. “That flight aint gonin’. You all are gunna take a bus. But let me check foya”.
1:20 AM – Nothing
1:25 AM – Confirmation that the flight is cancelled and we are taking a “four hour tour” on the bus home. Scheduled to be home at 5:30 AM.
1:30 AM – Trying to find the luggage from the two flights that were cancelled and make up the bus tour.
1:45 AM – Mass bitterness, mass bitching, mass assholes.
1:47 AM – I have my backpack – let’s go – I don’t care about your luggage, It will eventually get home…
1:49 AM – “Your luggage will be at the airport when you arrive”.
1:52 AM – “We found you luggage we are loading it on the bus”.
1:55 AM – “Oh I forgot, I need everyone’s ticket”
1:58 AM – “Thank you folks for being patient”.
2:00 AM – The tour starts.
2:08 AM – I’m asleep….
4:18 AM – I’m awakened because we stop at a truck stop for fuel, cigarettes, pee break and whores I guess.
4:20 AM – Realize I could have driven to Cape Cod from Indianapolis.
4:30 AM – We depart again.
5:20 AM – Awakened when I hear, “Where you going”? “My ‘Tom-Tom” says to take this two lane mountainous road, it’s faster”. Leave the interstate for a two lane road with a tour bus? You have got to be kidding.
5:23 AM – Return to the interstate system.
5:28 AM – Back asleep.
6:06 AM – Arrive at the puddle jumper airport.
6:18 AM – Get in bed……..
That should just about wrap-up my shithole bad luck travel for a few months……

weird stuff

Paris in six hours or less. Part 1

ED: Please disregard the spelling of foreign words and places in this post. I am too lazy to look it up.

"Pardonnez moi, Monsieur, Parlez-vous Anglais?" I asked the thin man looking at the facade of Notre Dame.

"No I do not, and I am busy", he replied in slightly accented English.

We left the US on a Friday evening. Dave, my young engineer colleague and I were off to important business meetings in France. This was not the first trip to Europe for either of us. We had upgraded to business class, and we left early to take advantage of lower fares for the Saturday stay. We also hoped to see the sites of Paris if possible before taking the train to the Loire Valley location of the factory on Sunday. I tried to get as much sleep on the plane as I could, long ago I had learned the best way to deal with the time difference and jet lag was to get on the new time zone as soon as possible. As we would arrive at Chuck de Gaulle airport in the morning, French time, I planned to stay awake as long as I could after arrival.

We arrived, went through customs etc. with no problem. The hotel was a short shuttle bus ride from the airport. We agreed to take a quick hour to relax, freshen up and shower then we would meet to go see the sights of gay Paree.

We took the shuttle back to the airport and bought train tickets to downtown Paris. The airport is some distance from the city. We got off the train at Mont St Michel, across the Seine from the Ille de Citie and the great Cathedral of Notre Dame. Like any good tourist we came from the underground station and looked around for a cafe to enjoy a beer after the arduous journey. After a quick "mission accomplished" we crossed the bridge to the Cathedral. It was much less impressive than I expected. The facade was covered with scaffolding for restoration work, but it was much smaller and less ornate than some of the huge churches we had seen in Germany. The churches in Regensburg and Bamburg were bigger and more ornate. We toured inside and tried to take some pictures of the dim interior. I would scan and post some pictures here, but I do not want to distract from the story. Plus I am too lazy. We spent about 20 minutes at the Church. I saw no hunchbacks, no hot chicks with goats either -- damn cartoon.

We decided we had to hit the Louvre (I do not know , I think it is pronounced Louvre like Favre). I asked a thin guy looking at the flying buttresses. He looked French, or at least European. If you have been to Europe you can pick out the Americans from the Europeans, we are fatter, and dress different. I studied French for four years in high school. I also had an advanced course in that language in College. I had not spoken a word of it in 20 years. Other than curse words, I was a bit rusty ( I could still read it though -- at least 50%). I politely asked the man if he spoke English. He looked me over. He could tell I was definitely American, not only did my white sneakers give me away, but my jean shorts confirmed his suspicion I was a damn American. The subsequent conversation began this story.

Here we were, short on time, trying to see the sights of Paris in one afternoon. We had no map, no plan, little language skills, and no desire to take a formal tour. We were on the Ille de Citie and need some help.

One of the most disturbing scenes in Europe (and especially France) is how heavily armed the police are. There are police with machine guns, soldiers with body armor and machine guns and police dogs patrolling the streets. I approached one such gendarme, his "assault weapon" slung from his shoulder. "excusez moi, ou es la Louvre s'Il vous plais?" He gave me directions in French. Then asked me in English to repeat them. He was very nice. We had to go up a few blocks and turn left. The Museum was on the left on that street. We took off at a fast clip. I guess not ALL French are assholes.

We found the Louvre and the glass pyramid entrance made more famous by that crazy "code" book. The lines were long. There appeared to be the equivalent of a whole tour bus of Chinese in line in front of us. At one point they decided to take a group picture. While they were getting organized we did the ugly American thing and pushed to the front of the line. The resulting "Hung yan who ha hee hang" or whatever they were shouting was really funny. Dave called them Commie Bastards, or maybe that was me. WTF, we were in a hurry.

Next: HB and Dave do the Louvre.

This makes me sick

Yates planned it, carried it out, and shows no remorse. Insane my ass. She took care to make sure the subsequent kid did not catch on she was murdering them one by one. I hope she rots in Hell.

She did it, admitted such, and should have already faced the needle, the chair, the noose, or the gas chamber. EOS.

Pineapple Dreams

I am sitting here eating a rare breakfast,

No,no, that did not start out right. The breakfast was not rare, it is just that I rarely eat breakfast. I was eating fresh pineapple, orange juice, coffee and one Archway sugar drop cookie this morning and I was thinking about the trips I have planned in the next weeks. As you are probably aware, I am a traveling salesman. Sadly, I have yet had my car breakdown on a country road and had to spend the night with a farmer and his beautiful daughter.

I have been lucky enough to travel the world on the company's dollar. I have seen the Cathedral at Cologne (that is it,above), the Eiffel Tower, London, Amsterdam. I rode a train through the Rhine Valley, marveling at the castles of old. I ate lunch at a picnic table along the Danube. I drank beer beside the mountain lakes of Austria.

I spent a week in Tours, the site where Charles Martel kicked Muslim ass and saved the West from becoming the Middle East. Where are you now, Hammer, we could use your kick ass mentality, especially in France? The Cathedral in Tours is far more impressive than Notre Dame.

I have been to Mexico, Canada, Britain, France, Italy, Germany, The Netherlands, and Austria. I have seen New York City, the Vulcan in Birmingham, and the majesty of the Rockies. I have visited the Motor City, San Francisco, Philadelphia, and LA. I have attended the Indy 500 and seen the Cubs at Wrigley Field. I have sat for hours looking at the natural beauty of the Cascades and the Columbia River Gorge. I have swam in waters of the Pacific, the Atlantic, the Gulf of Mexico. I have touched each of the Great Lakes.

I have been to the Alamo, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Stones River. I have walked the hallowed ground at Antietam. I have traipsed the smaller battlefields at Perryville, Tippecanoe, Fort Pillow and Spring Mill. I have seen the memorials in the Nation's Capital and found myself awed by the sad grandeur of Arlington National Cemetery.

I realize I am truly a lucky man. Where have you been?

Hunting a post

I looked back at my archives for July 2005 and found an idea that I had planned to make a regular feature of Fat in Indiana. It was my intention to hit the "next blog" button up there on the right and critique the next several blogs I got at random.

I tried it today and found a hilarious blog:The Concept of Irony. I also got several foreign blogs, a few strange ones and one about a woman going through an abusive relationship. Nothing amusing there. I decided to try one more hit, that would make twenty, and I got Big Dick's Place -- one of my regular reads. I guess that was a sign of some sort.

Let me know if you find any strange blogs out there.

Here we are

It is Tuesday. I have lots of readers stopping by to see what words of wisdom, or ridiculous sentences I can offer for your entertainment, and I have nothing.

I have the malaise so aptly described by that worthless President Jimmah Carter. Life, work, money, other issues are beating me down. I am not in jump off the bridge mode, but the spark just ain't there. The internal politics of life, the effect of others' decisions drags me down like weights on my ankles during an swim in the deep end of the pool. Look, I know most of you have bigger problems than I. This is no pity party request, nor an excuse. I write this by way of explanation.

I just have no tales, no jokes, no stories, nothing to enliven your day. Politics, sports, weather, I am bored by it all today. All will be right tomorrow, or the next day, or maybe in an hour. The idea that I cannot be creative brings me down even more. I guess writer's block it is. If you new me, you would know I always have something to say. Heck, if you have stopped by here for long you know that!

Otter, post at will.

Hello Blog World

It is Monday. Most of you are working -- I am on vacation. One day only.

Otter says I should blog more. Trying to entertain you people is already taking up a great deal of my time. I must say I enjoy the shit out of doing this, though. Thanks to all of you who visit here everyday. Why do you do it?

Here is what is pissing me off today. Why do the people who live in my house refuse to replace the empty toilet paper roll. I have shown each of them how to do it. It is not hard.

My garbage disposal died on Friday. While it was full of some really nasty mexican dip (should Mexican be capitalized?). I scooped out what I could, but by the time the hardware store opened Saturday it made the house smell like garbage. Some ass really tightened the pipes when he installed the last disposal, so knuckle banging and cursing was heard. Oh wait, I installed the previous disposal. Anyway, when I took off the cover to undo the wiring, the white wire was not connected. Did I knock off the connector while banging around? I hooked the electricity back up -- the old one was aliiiiivvvve! I then replaced all the pipes etc. and I now have to head to Sears to give them back the unused, unopened new disposal. The Mrs. somehow decided we had just saved seventy dollars and we needed to go to the mall. I still do not see how we came by this windfall.

What is pissing you off on a beautiful, pleasant Monday?

Thats my luck

As two buddies were enjoying their beers at a local pub, one asked,
"Did you know that lions have sex ten to fifteen times a night?"

"Damn," says his friend, "and I just joined Kiwanis!"



via Otter

That's Hot

Like Custer at the Little Bighorn

Well it looks like gorgeous Goldbloom got it right. The Dragon has conceded defeat. Do I accept with class? Hell no. The Hoosier duo wielded the power of the internet, and the idea of Goldbloom coming to Alabama in a few weeks to administer a proper butt-kicking (and taking away the coffee) put the fear of the Hoosierboy into MS. Dragon.

She will claim it was all for me, help the children, feed the starving blah, blah blah. We all know the truth.....don't we? It was my mad photoshopping skills that turned the tide.

Truckin'

Cool Stuff

My Dad sent me some cool pictures of Truck / Trailers. Most of these come from Europe -- I hope this really catches on here. You know the drill -- click to make it bigger.

Friday Funny

You had to go and say something stupid...

Today begins the next step in the tournament trail for the little one's baseball team -- The Ohio Valley Regional. If we win this won we are off to the World Series.

Posting will be light, my attentions focus elsewhere, vacation through Monday.

Alli left a comment that reminded me of one of the craziest stunts I have ever pulled. A bunch of were sitting around playing Euchre. Like guys do, a challenge was issued, the bet was on. We were going to join the century club.

This drinking game involves drinking a shot a beer a minute for 100 minutes. EVERY minute. It does not seem like much -- 100 ounces -- about 8 beers. I drank way more than that on a regular basis. I just did not do it in an hour and a half.

We headed off to the liquor store on Friday night to get our beer of choice. Always hovering on financial insolvency I went for what was on sale, Blatz. It was cheap and it was advertised as a "light" beer.

The evening went well. I remember eating an apple around number 50. Number 75 found the beer still going down smoothly, with just a buzz. Around number 85 things got tough. It is hard to drink your shot, go to the head and get back by the bell. I was starting to feel a little sick, and bloated, and well -- drunk, by number ninety. Things were a little fuzzy by now, one guy had dropped out some time ago, just three of us still toed the mark as the (sober) timekeeper called drink at number 100. One of the many observers decided we would just be pussies to quit now. Someone suggested we had better keep going in case the time or the count was wrong. We were just drunk enough to agree. I think my buddy Gary and I tacitly agreed to quit around 117 shots in 117 minutes. I am told my Irish buddy Burk hit 130 before he fell out of his chair.

This night was one of the few in my life where I was walking and talking and moving about in a complete alcohol fog. I have little recollection of the events latter in the evening. I guess I carried on conversations and posed for pictures.

The next morning as we cleaned the detrius of the party, a wise guy pointed out something that was apparent to the casual drinkers and observers of the contest -- we were using jiggers (1-1/2 oz)instead of shot glasses (1 oz) in our quest to achieve drinking immortality. Yes, readers I am a member of the Century Club Plus. It is a wonder we did not end up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning.

Careful, lest history repeat

Hello Blogworld

I have completed long overdue maintenance and have finally added many people to the blogroll. Check them out over there on the sidebar. Sorry it has taken so long, everyone!

I will get back to you later, Dragon.

Dear Dragon

As the Godfather said, revenge is a dish best served cold.

I think will get really drunk tonight. I am told alcohol kills brain cells. If I kill half my brain cells, am hungover, and sick, it will likely be a fair fight...

Why me?

I am a middle aged man, my shoulders and knees wracked with pain from arthritis, my vision getting worse every day. I have little computer expertise, no photoshopping skills. I try to put out a blog to share a few jokes, some stories about my childhood. Sometimes I write a nice little opinion piece about politics. Fat in Indiana is never about the hate, the angry vitriol that you find on some blogs.

I find a catchy, yet old school way of advertising the good work we do here, and an angry woman/dragon finds a way to hurt me.

I may not have the best spelling skills, or the sharpest mind, but to attack a poor defenseless middle aged man, well, that is just low. I try to work hard, to eke out a meager living for my family. Tending to garden of life, I do no evil. Yet I am attacked by the Alabama Hezbollah, just for being me. I use what feeble means I have available to defend myself, yet I get this.
Who will help the Hoosierboy defend his tiny little piece of land in the blogworld? Who will come to my aid against these aggressive attacks from Alabama Dragon? Poor little Hoosierboy, needs your help defending TRUTH JUSTICE and the AMERICAN WAY. Do it for the children. Do it for the bunnies, and puppies the kittens and butterflies. Do it for the little guy. Support me against the bully on the beach kicking sand in my face.

I will use my weak and skinny arms to fight the Dragon on the beaches, in the hills, in the cities. We shall not waver, we shall not bend, we will endeavor to persevere in this onslaught. Did we give up when the Nazis attacked Pearl Harbor -- Hell NO!!! And I will not give up now. Who is with me?

Civilization depends upon your help

The Hoosierboy Challenge

How many of you are brave enough to post this on your blog? Do it and let me know in the comments. The one who sends the most visitors to this site will get a prize.

I double dog dare you...

Hot Town, Summer in the City

It is hot. It is summer, get over it.

We had ball practice yesterday evening, being a fat guy, my shirt was soaked before practice was half over, and I was not doing anything. The kids did not seem to mind so much, they were focused on the task at hand -- hitting, fielding, throwing.

We did not have air conditioning when I was a boy. Screens, fans, and a sprinkler were the methods of cooling down. Otter and I spent most summer nights sleeping in a tent in the backyard. Between Boy Scouts, Reenacting, and summer sleepouts, I bet I have slept outside 400-500 nights. Sometimes it was even too hot to sleep in the tent, then we would wait until the lights were out in the houses and run the neighborhood. Well, Otter did, I was a good boy who stayed in the tent like I was supposed to. Sometimes we would get up in the night and go inside to sleep. But it was hot in the house, and often as not, a sweaty, uneasy night is all we could muster.

On hot summer days we would hop on our bikes and head to the public pool. I think the year before high school my friend Jeff and I went to the pool every day. We spent the time hitting on the girls and trying to get a handful of boob or a quick feel of firm butt. I am not sure what we would have done had we actually got some girl to give up the pussy. The chase was half the fun, but young hormones make a boy crazy. I often wonder if the girls were supercharged too?

After swimming I would often ride up the street to my Grandma's house for a coke and some cards. We would play some rummy or maybe cribbage and cool off on the back patio. Grandma always had some flower or such she wanted me to see. Sometimes she would get me to pull some weeds, or haul some rubbish to the back of the yard to burn later when it cooled off.

My swimsuit and towel rolled into a tight roll and bungeed to my handlebars, I started the trip home. I would ride past the red haired girl's house, maybe a couple of times. She had the biggest boobs in Jr. High. I had a crush on her (or maybe it was her boobs?). She was never outside. Down Washington Street I rode, coming home to a warm meal and lots of love. Maybe I would have one of those homemade kool-aide popsicles and in the little tupperware things. Did you have those?

Summer, days of nothing that add up to a great boyhood.

What were they thinking?

Sufferin Succatash

My favorite New Yawker, Moonbatty, is infested with super-duper smart city mouses. She has tried everything to get rid of them. I think she has some rare giant mouses as depicted in the scene from a documentary I saw as a kid. Careful, Batty, these giant mice like to fight!

Weekend Fun

A cautionary tale

Joseph was born into the Klan. He hated blacks with every fiber of his being. It was their fault his family no longer owned the fields west of the river. What ownership his family had ever exercised was tenuous, and unclear, but it was those uppitty blacks that caused the misery in Jimtown. According to family legend, all was right with the world before the war, in those times (long before Joseph was born), the "niggras" knew their place, Joseph was told by his Grandfather.

Joseph had a sign in his yard, proclaiming that it would be unwise for persons of color to be near his property after sunset. The sign was phrased in a manner more crude. Joseph was very religious. He read his Bible every day, he knew his beliefs were in line with Scripture. He could quote passages defending his position. He went to Church, attended the Klan meetings and spent his days building hate through discussions with his neighbors, who felt just as he did. Occasionally the Nazi symbol or flag could be seen in their pamphlets and newspapers. The church school taught the children about the sins and evil nature of the darkies across the river. Religious text was preached proving Blacks carried the mark of Cain, they were subhuman, they deserved to die. Joseph believed he was doing God's work every time he beat a Black child. His greatest dream was to go across the river and kill as many blacks as possible.

"They" were strange and evil, believed Joseph. There were whispered rumors about them eating babies, and trying to seduce the women of Jimtown. Once Joseph and his friends blew up a restaurant over the river because he had heard one of "them" had looked the wrong way at a neighbor's wife. Joseph was not going to put up with that kind of disrespect.

Most of us would find Joseph repugnant, a relic of a bygone era. His thoughts, his religion, his hatred an anethema to us all. What if we replaced every reference to Black, etc. with Jew? What if Joseph was really Yassar? What if his "Bible" was the Koran? This is the hatred of the Palestinians. This is the hatred of a wide sect of Muslims. This is what the liberals are supporting when they give money and support to Hamas, and the Palestinian Authority or the PLO. There is no cure for hatred. There is no cure for those too stupid to recognize it.

cool stuff sent to me

#@%$&*^ second again

It was not this, as I knew, no teams can hit like that again. The results were more like this game, only the officials were excellent for the most part.

Three years in a row. Second place just means you are better than the other losers. Oh well, we will get another shot in two weekends.

Today's WTF

You owe me

Read this post by Alli at Fox Rants and see if it does not get your blood boiling. The reparations movement is ridiculous in the extreme. First only a small minority of blacks in this country can trace direct roots to former slaves in the US. Imagine the howls of outrage as we subject those eligible to racial purity tests. If one of my relatives married a dark-skinned possible descendant of a former slave am I eligible?

Two, a significant portion of Americans NEVER owned slaves. We should immediately exclude any taxpayers who have ancestors that arrived here after 1865. My grandmother's family would fall into that category, so would I? My family on my father's side arrived in the early 1700's, but lived in the north. There is no record of them ever owning slaves. Will I be excluded?

Three, 500,000 Americans died freeing the slaves. Their families suffered hardship and hunger while the men were off fighting. Those who died left their family without income, who knows the suffering those families endured. Maybe the blacks owe them a reparation? My family has been poor for generations, where is my reparations? Great, Great Grampa Andrew Hoosierboy never fully recovered from the TB he contacted while serving in the Union Army -- you owe me.

In short, the whole idea is a joke. What do we do about the Irish, the Chinese, the Italians, all of whom were discriminated against at some time? Hispanics now feel targeted.

Give me a break.

The crack of the bat

Here are some interesting statistics from the weekend of baseball. If this bores you skip on -- it is my blog and I'll write what I want to.

Offense:
17 runs
18 hits
5 strike outs
2 batters walked
2 errors

Defense:
20 runs
23 hits
6 strike outs
4 walks
2 errors

What if I told you this was ONE game. This contest was between two of the best teams in Indiana, if not the Midwest. The winning team won the Ohio Valley last year (Wis., Mich, Ohio, Ind, W. VA, Ky). We lost to them last year by one run in the SE Indiana Championship game, and they have put us into the losers bracket again. These are clearly the two best teams. Keep in mind these runs were scored against 70 mph pitching (at 45 foot mounds). Overall we are 3-1 and still alive to face teams we have previously beaten. We have every expectation to come out of the losers bracket to the championship in this double elimination tournament.

This was one of the best baseball games I have ever seen -- at any level. Two teams that bashed the ball into the gaps against excellent pitching (note the low number of walks -- these are 12 year olds). At the end of the contest, both teams reeled like punched out fighters. There were 18 combined runs scored in the last inning alone. The crowd sat stunned, swelled by other teams and fans who came to see if the boys from the little farm town could knock off the reigning champs. We came a little short but live to try again.

BTW, the little one is batting nearly .400 and playing well.

Monday Morning She Came Calling

It is MOnday, back to work, a long exciting weekend of baseball, with more to come tonight. I will tell you more later. It is bright and clear this am, but rain is on the way. I have to get ready for the long commute to the office. That 20 feet is a long way, better get me some coffee!

Is it me, or has the blog world been sadly lacking in jokes lately? I have several days of blog reading to catch up on, plus I guess I need to work. More later.

Naked Skateboarding

Posting may be light this weekend. We are of to the hills of Southern Indiana to compete for the 12 year old Cal Ripken SE State Championship. The brackets look tough. If the team comes to play, they will be fine.

While I am not posting you will find plenty of entertainment over there on the sidebar. I read those blogs every day, so I know they are good. Just to be safe, I know you do not want to miss anything, you should check here every hour to make sure I have not posted anything. This will keep your anxiety at bay, and I need the hits. Go that extra mile and link to random past posts here on Fat in Indiana. You would if you loved me...

Here is a picture for your weekend enjoyment. What were they thinking?
Clickee to makee bigger. That is probably offensive to someone. Do you think I care?

Have a nice weekend.

Heck yes, Bob

I am a little late in posting this, but here is an excellent analysis of the differences between the liberals and the rest of us when it comes to freedom in this country. It is well worth the time to read.


ed. link fixed.

Tour de France

Hey Frenchies, embrasser mon derrier.

The Big July 5th Celebration

We had a big cookout last night. Hamburgers, potato salad, macaroni salad, baked beans, cottage cheese, strawberries and bananas, deviled eggs -- the works. All five of us ate together for the first time in a long time, and the oldest boy had a guest and the daughter brought along her boyfriend.

After baseball practice, the boyfriend broke out a huge sack of fireworks and we set off parachutes, roman candles, bottle rockets and firecrackers for a good period. A great time was had by all. For the hell of it, I made chocolate chip cookies at about 11:00.

A great July 5th Celebration was had by all.

Eleven

The little one chose number eleven as his uniform number for the all star team. He has had various numbers including seven, eight, and eleven before. He chose eleven for the travel team and his recreation league number as well. He says it is his favorite number now. Mine too. This movie made me a believer. Look at the picture, you have to agree the numeral eleven is a fine number indeed.

My son is a fine handsome boy. I love him. He does not even come close to wearing the number eleven with the same style as the Kansas City Bomber.

Ooh ooh that smell

I am afflicted with allergies. As a boy I had a perpetual runny nose, watery eyes and cough. As a young man I had hives when I mowed and then sneezed the night through. As I get older I have less severe reactions. I get watery eyes, and sneeze a lot (nearly always in groups of three). I only occasionally have a runny nose, usually in the morning. I get occasional headaches and migraines, but nothing like I had in my late twenties and early thirties (ever had a headache so bad you puke?). I still get an occasional whopper of a migraine, but things are better now. Unfortunately I have passed my allergies to my kids, especially the daughter. Love you kids -- how about a hyper active immune system?

Anyway to my point. I spent a significant amount of my life not able to smell anything, except maybe in January, when I was outside. As my allergies have receded, I now smell things I never could until a few years ago, and often I feel as if my nose is being assaulted. As I type this, the scent of the wife's anniversary roses are almost overpowering, I can smell them from the next room. The bananas ripening on the cabinet mingle with the odor of my coffee. With every sip I get a whiff of the orange juice in the glass.

I know this is normal for most of you. To be honest, some days I long for a stuffed up nose and my Grandpa's never-ending refrain; "Joe, get a Kleenex".

Baseball

I know most of you will not care and will be bored (great salesmanship, eh?) but the little one's team just finished the first round of tourneys for the Cal Ripken tournament (12 year olds). The team emerged victorious in the district round undefeated. They outscored their combined opponents 38 to 9. Our pitchers struck out 40 opposing batters in 21 innings of total play (2 games were stopped short by the ten-run rule). The team gave up only 19 hits and 4 walks all weekend. This is really remarkable considering 10 hits and 4 runs came in the championship game last night.

Our team had a total of 24 singles, 7 doubles, 2 triples and 6 home runs. The little one hit .500 with an OBA of .571. He had just one strikeout.

As I posted before, this team is very good. If they play every inning smart, they could go a LONG way. We are off this weekend for the SE Indiana Tournament. Wish us luck ( I can say "us" because I am one of the coaches).

Dear Founding Fathers

Thank You

Hillary Clinton is a Liar

That is my opinion. Read this and see if you agree. He does not post nearly often enough, but when he does it is always good.

Dear Dragon

Why do Whales beach themselves, and do you think it has anything to do with the unrest on the Rosebud Reservation prior to the Great Sioux Uprising of 1890?
MrsJoseGoldbloom | Homepage | 06.28.06 - 6:23 pm | #

A) Because they can. Do you ever get tired of swimming? Of walking? Of standing? Have you ever considered parking your bones on a nice sandy beach? I sure have. I am not a whale, and neither are you, so how do you think a mega-ton mammal/fish feels?

B) NO. I refuse to elaborate on the activities of Native Americans residing on the Northern Plains in the late nineteenth Century.

Dear JT

Well, you said anything, and I was just wondering...

I could revise it to something else if you like. How about: "If someone with multiple personalities threatens to kill himself, is it considered a hostage situation?"

Or the old "If God can do anything, can God make a rock that God can't pick up?"

How about you tell me the causations of the Sioux War of 1890?
jt | Homepage | 06.29.06 - 7:58 am | #

Well JT, never let it be said I shy away from a tough question. Do you believe I can make it impossible for you to pick up a shiny quarter from the sidewalk? How about if I add superglue? Have you never heard the phrase "With God all things are possible"? Let us say I can build a car. I can lift each of the component parts with ease, yet I can not lift the whole without mechanical help. If God can be of three personalities, and if he can make himself human and accept our sins, then die, and live again -- surely he can create a rock such as the one you describe. If he cannot heft it, I am sure the Holy Ghost could toss it like a pebble into the ocean.

The HUMAN laws of physics do not apply to the gods. If God created the universe, then who created God? We could play these games all day.

This one was too easy, I should have tackled the Indian question.

Dear GuyK

Do you really think the price of eggs in China is worth the wear and tear on a hen's butt?

Also, will you do a post sometime on the Battle of Wounded Knee?
GUYK | Homepage | 06.28.06 - 5:26 pm | #

Guy, I share your disdain for yardbirds, nasty, foul creatures. I do think they should continue to flourish in China, wiping every communist from the country with a malicious, commie-only killing bird flu strain. Then every hen and egg in China will be of value.

At this point I have no plans to do a post on the Great Sioux Uprising of 1890.