Thursday, April 28, 2011

Ouch! That Left A Mark!

Normally, Mike Luckovitch simply irritates me. This cartoon, however, displays a fine level of snark. Amazing how that works - the cartoonist is a genius if they agree with me!

Ms. Couric's journo creds have never impressed me much, since she wears her politics on her sleeve. She's hardly bothered to hide any of her biases. Buh bye, Katie - don't let the door hit ya where ya sit on the way out! Make sure you have yourself a time covering the "Wedding of the Century" before ya go - that sort of story is right up your alley.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Torpedo Test


Highly impressive!

Had I been in the service, it would have been the Navy for this landlubber. However, I fear submarine duty would have to be right out, and not just because I'm too large. I dunno if smaller physiques are a requirement or not anymore, but the Navy wouldn't want me in a small tube for weeks at a time. Just sayin.'

H/T My Nuckle Kim, the ol' Mariner of the family



Why was I not made of stone like thee???
This scene makes my eyes water every time, and it ain't because I'm chopping onions.

Monday, April 25, 2011

My Wagon Won't Do This


It won't smoke the tires and so far it's failed to attract a stylish accessory as depicted in the video.


H/T Jed

I Like Mazes

But The Donald is a puzzle, and I don't like my presidential candidate's plans, motives and positions to be more difficult to suss out than the Sunday crossword section of the paper. Just what the hell does he hope to accomplish? If he's more than the RINO he appears to be so far, then continued campaigning will split the party a la Ross Perot, and hand the election to Obama. Teh Won doesn't really seem to need help from the Stupid party in this regard, considering the other choices available.  His Second Amendment record should shame him right out of the race for the Republican side.

We live in interesting times.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

I Never Think of This Stuff

I've said before how my neighbors rule, but it bears repeating. My neighbors rule. J brought me Easter dinner today - it's not the first time she's supplied yours truly with a holiday dinner. She knows I don't get to see Sis just every special day, and she shares the bounty of their table with this scabby old trucker. Today, it was ham and scalloped potatoes, with a slice of coconut cream pie and a huge sweet roll. Plus this little item.

I'm a guy. I'll always be a guy. If aliens forced me to get a sex change operation, it wouldn't change my wiring. If I was gonna deliver some chocolate foil wrapped eggs, I'd just put 'em in a sandwich bag or something similar. Practical, quick and easy, I say.

In some circles that is heresy. This looks like a bird's nest. It is actually a carefully folded small paper bag with a few twigs attached and "Easter Grass" nestled inside with the goodies. She had to go outside and collect the appropriately sized twigs, find the correct size of sacks, purchase the "grass" and spend some serious amount of time putting all of the stuff together, just to help frame a holiday mood.

Needless to say, I'm impressed and in awe.

Really Like This Quote

How apropos. C.S. Lewis certainly knew a thing or two about Christianity - to say the least.

Happy Easter to you and yours!

Saturday, April 23, 2011

What Goes Around....

Sometimes comes around. Yeah, we've all heard it before, and it seems rare when something does happen.

Check this post out at Blackfive.

I cringe every time the Phelps Family of the Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka floats to the top of the news like a rancid turd in the punch bowl. The idea that they are from Kansas shames me, a proud citizen of the same state.

I'm not one to think two wrongs make a right, but the novel way that Rankin County law enforcement personnel, tow truck drivers and residents treated the "Family" makes me want to look the other way. As much as the Phelps thugs have warped the First Amendment and the idea of decency causes me to think a little bit of twisted reaction is acceptable as well.

I may end up burning in Hell yet, but if I do, I fully expect to see the Phelps there already.

 H/T @cyberludite, who retweeted this.

Friday, April 22, 2011


H5 – WWII Bombers over Arizona Landscape from H5 Productions on Vimeo.


From the Vimeo site:
SaberCat1 filming in HD the B17 and the B25 WWII Bombers over and around Arizona's Superstition Mountains and Saguaro Lake. H5 Productions, in conjunction with The Commemorative Air Force filmed these aircraft during the Veteran's Day Celebration on Saturday, November 13th, 2010. The B17 Bomber was flown by pilot Russ Gilmore and the B25 Bomber was flown by pilot Spike McLane. The base for these bombers is Falcon Field located in Mesa, Arizona. SaberCat1 pilot, Mitch Kelldorf. SaberCat1 aerial cinematographer, Mike Murray. Editor, Mike Murray.
This video isn't your average flv from YouTube. It's probably gonna take a while to download, and I highly recommend using the full screen option -click on the four arrows pointing away from a center point between the HD and Vimeo graphics in the toolbar. You'll be glad you did.

H/T Cuzzin Tom

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch

Oh, and by the way, this day is important for some because they call it Good Friday.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Mr. "Winning" Sends Me a Warning

Got this in an email today:
Just got scammed out of $25.
Bought Tiger Woods DVD entitled "My Favorite 18 Holes". Turns out it's about golf. Absolute waste of money.
Pass this on so others don't get scammed.
Best Regards,
Charlie Sheen
You've been warned by the Vatican Ninja Assassin.

H/T Darin

Sunday, April 17, 2011

The Answer My Friend Is Blowin' In The Wind

These pics would be an accurate depiction of dirt blowing from a field a la "Dust Bowl" conditions. It's dry, and Friday the fifteenth we had gust up to seventy mph. Better farming practices keep Kansas in Kansas rather than sending our land to Oklahoma or Nebraska. Normally, most farmers leave quite a bit of crop residue on top of the ground to "hold" it during high winds like this. I've mentioned before how we summer fallow - but it bears repeating. Dryland farming practices include letting the field lie fallow for a year in order to build up moisture and regain nutrients from the residue turning back into soil.

The residue of the old crop, aka trash, also helps hold moisture. After the crop is harvested, instead of folding the soil over to bury the residue, we use sweep plows to undercut the weeds to kill them and keep them from sapping the valuable moisture, leaving the top covered. Someone who continuous crops would want to be rid of the residue tuit suite so they could plant something right away. A lot of trash can cause drills to ball up - the trash catches the drills like a knot of hair would in a comb. So, irrigators go for the bald look right away. That is what happened here - the dirt is blowing from a center pivot circle that is ready for fall planting, so there really isn't enough trash to hold the ground.

Of course, roofs are missing shingles, branches have been blown from trees, the power, phone and internet were intermittent, and there were several wrecks. It was definitely too windy for oversize loads, so we were all parked. Which bothered me not in the least - when it's blowing cow wagons and vans over, it's too windy for the sail like loads we haul.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Can You Say Cheesy?


I'm Dodge material, but having a "hot" car or drinking the right booze never got me anywhere. Hrmmph.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Now, For A Limited Time Only!!!!

I didn't realize it, but these coupons are good for one gallon of gas at most retailers. I have seen them around, but until recently never took advantage of them, I never realized their actual worth.

You probably have one or two just lying around somewhere.

Now is the time to use them before they lose their value, and it's too late!!

SEE COUPON BELOW...Actually good for one gallon of gas for a limited time only.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Can’t Call Her Molly Anymore, Either

LeeAnn is visited by goats. Go read.

Howza Bout Them Budget Cuts?

The whole thing has been just a show. Nothing has really changed.

I guess when you're putting spin on everything you do, anything that happens has to be celebrated - win, lose or draw.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Form 1040 OMG

Click for larger

This is Jeff Danziger's cartoon for today. I've certainly had issues with his POV in the past, but not so much this time.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

The Power of Words


It's all in how one says something.

Saturday, April 09, 2011

Mists of Arid

Yannow, if you live somewhere with a lot of humidity, this sort of thing is commonplace. Here? Not so much. The mists rising from the wheat stubble is moisture laid down by a foggy morning with a little bit of mist. The sun was cranking up the heat, the water was evaporating, the air temp was a tad cooler, and there was no wind. All very rare occurrences in our little corner of Paradise.

Well, except for the heat and the water evaporation part. We get plenty of that.

The last picture really exposes the shortcomings of my camera phone - that is a longer distance shot of a center pivot irrigation system in operation and the plumes of vapor reaching up into the sky. At first, a single plume was rising that looked for all the world like a white tornado. However, when I shot the pic, there were four separate smaller plumes - of course you can't see them.....

So, yeah, it really looks like we're just soaked around here, but that is surely not the case. Fire warnings every day kinda negate that. There have been several large prairie fires in the past two weeks, one causing the evacuation of the town of Satanta, about fifty miles from The Poor Farm.

Like my ol' Daddy used to say: It's dryer than a popcorn fart around here, Son. I suspect that is pretty dry.

Friday, April 08, 2011

Because It's There


Asking gearhead why one would do this is akin to asking Mallory why he wanted to climb Everest.

I'd say those hides were pretty well smoked. Probably got all the goody out of  'em.

H/T Larry S.

Wednesday, April 06, 2011

A Rather Unique Windsock

There is a wide spot in the road on SD73 south of Lemmon, SD called Summerville. This twin engine plane is set high on it's pedestal and acts as a windvane, plus the props freewheel. I can tell the average Cessna, but I've no idea what this is - Piper Commanche? Winglet tanks?

I'd bet there is a back story to all this - you just don't see twin engine planes turned into windvanes, but I'd bet Robert knows.

Tuesday, April 05, 2011

A Phone Call

In Belle Fourche SD tonight - and while I'm probably not gonna have time to stop and visit personally, I couldn't let the opportunity pass to talk with one of my online blogging pals Robert Dennis (aka Jinglebob) of Dennisranch's Weblog. I'll just bet most of you know who he is, too. I'm more farmer, and he's more old school stockman, but we decided we had quite a bit in common.

We can't stand to be boxed in by the country we're in - too many trees and mountains make us nervous.

On the other hand, we like rough country - like some of the hidden draws and bluffs in Kansas and the rolling rock formations on the plains in South Dakota. Guess that's the cattlemen in us - good pasture land, it is.

Some folks in other areas are strange.

We didn't agree on flat ground. Robert has gone out of his way to avoid Kansas in the past because he's heard it just hour after hour of flat ground. I think that's been oversold - it's a rolling, humpy flat with hidden draws and cuts breaking it up after a few miles. You've gotta climb on something tall (which won't be a tree, for sure) to see for miles and miles.

I have got to meet this guy in person, just like I need to take the time to see this esteemed blogger.

My Father

This is going to be a tough one for me. Today is the thirteenth anniversary of my Father's death. He passed away in his sleep while I was at Texas Motor Speedway for a NASCAR race. Dad had Parkinsons, and his days of independence were coming to a close, even as he denied it. I couldn't take care of him - not and have a full time job. The time I had to lay the Heimlich Maneuver on him was a clue, as was reports from the neighbors about his poor driving.

But, no matter. We say he died on April 5, 1998, because that's what everyone agreed was the probable date - on a Friday. He wasn't found until Sunday.

But, that isn't really what I'm gonna talk about. My Dad loved me and I know it, but overall we just didn't get along much. Neither did he and my mother or sister. Mostly, he could be a selfish, inconsiderate bastard.

I grew up fetching tools and such for him when he had to tinker on his equipment. This was not an easy task, since he had no habit of putting them up when he was done. So, in order to find what he wanted, I really had to keep a running inventory of where he might have used certain tools and which pickup, tractor, or spot on the ground he might have left them. Often, he'd tell me where he "knew they were," but he'd forgotten and was wrong. I'd get my butt chewed royally for not being fast enough, and when I'd finally find them - perhaps miles away (not that uncommon when he left them on implements left at remote fields), there was never an apology. Nope, still all my fault.

He did the same crap with the rest of the family when it came to his personal items, most commonly his billfold or checkbooks. He'd be unable to find one of those items, and call for all of our attention. We had stolen/moved/buried under a bunch of stuff/ whatever his billfold. "It was right here ten minutes ago, by God, because that's where I left the God Damned thing!"

I generally was the one who went outside to look in the pickups or tractors. I'd get yelled at, too. "I told you I left it right there! What the Fuck are you going outside for?" I'd say something non committal and go on. Usually, it would be in the seat or on the dash of a pickup, or somewhere in a tractor cab. Sometimes, it would be on the ground where he'd been working, or on top of equipment. As thick as it was, I'm sure it got uncomfortable sitting, so he'd take it out of his pocket.

And, after I'd taken it to him, more often than not I'd get a grunt of acknowledgment. Apology? Nah, not so much.

Women were supposed to be barefoot and pregnant, and subservient to their husbands. Children were to be seen and not heard. He was living in the 1800s. Money got tight when Sis and I were little, so Mother went back to teaching. Our parents shared a checking account. Mother would deposit her paycheck, and then use the money for food and clothes. Dad would spend the money on important things, like his model airplanes. Overdrafts came in the mail, with bitter fights. It was all my Mother's fault. She was blowing money. Mother opened a separate account at a different bank (she didn't trust the local bank, for good reason, but that's another story). The overdrafts still came, but she wasn't spending from the shared account. Dad managed to do that all on his own. Apologies? Uh, no.

In his defense, he never did hit us. He'd threaten to, but never follow through. He wasn't an alcoholic or skirt chaser, either. Dad was a fairly respected person in the community, because he was a different person in public. But, at home, he was the king, by God, and you'd best not forget it.

Speaking of model airplanes - he got into the radio controlled variety in the early seventies. Radio sets were expensive. One of his excuses to do this was "This will be a father and son activity." Did I give a rat's ass about his planes? Not so much. Did he ever ask me if I was interested? Nope, he was, so that was all that mattered. He'd give demonstrations at organization suppers and the like, and one of his favorite things to do was to say: "I started this hobby wanting it to be a father and son activity. Well, it didn't work out" in a sad tone and look accusingly at me.

I was far more into cars. I had to work for him during the summer, but he really didn't have enough for me to do, so I didn't make very much money - unlike most of my friends, who got jobs with the bigger farmers and got a lot of hours every summer. Dad did buy me an old pickup, but it wasn't entirely altruistic - he used it as a tax break. It wasn't mine - his name was on the title. He promised me that we'd fix it up - drop a V8 in it, get it painted and so on. Any work or improvements that actually got done were out of my pocket - wheels, bucket seats and other interior mods. He helped me put the bucket seats in after they'd sat outside most of the summer and my Mother jumped him about finally getting that done. I'd have done it, but I couldn't weld the brackets that needed fabricated. I was also restricted because he wouldn't let me do much - he'd told me he was gonna help. So, I couldn't do anything at all. Mother chewed his butt - one of the few times she actually tried that - and had him shamed and in tears. Not because he was wrong. Nope, she was being a controlling bitch.

Mother finally had enough and divorced Dad. She asked for a cash settlement rather than splitting the farm in two. All she wanted was enough to live on to get a start in Oklahoma - taking some classes to bring her teaching certificate up to date. Of course, according to Dad, she'd lose in court because by God she was supposed to do what he said. She got what she wanted. Years later, when he was carping about it, I jumped him. He was talking badly about my Mother, and I was tired of it. How would he like it if I continually called his Mother the names I heard? Plus, just what century was he living in? She could have taken half of the freaking farm and he was bitching about the piddling settlement she got? How insane was he?

That cooled his jets for a while. I was much older then. I had to deal with his abuse until I got big enough and old enough to threaten to kick his ass.

I was living with him at the time, so he wasn't all bad. One Saturday, I was off work, and after sleeping in, was eating cereal for breakfast and watching cartoons. Totally relaxing. My Grandmother called and announced she was going to come out to visit. This always put Dad in a tizzy. Oh, the house is a mess and we just have to start cleaning now, so it will look good when she gets here. Well, she knew there were two bachelors living out here, and she knew we were no housekeepers, and frankly, she didn't care. Dad didn't think so, and lived in fear.

So, he started hounding me to get up off my ass and help him. I put him off. That lasted about fifteen minutes until he was back. I put him off again. The next time he came back at me he was screaming mad. I got up and started helping him, but I was slamming things around and acting pretty pissy. This didn't set too well. He started chewing me out about my attitude. Looking him right in the eye, I said in a falsetto voice: "I just love getting my ass chewed for bullshit. It makes me soooooo happy! Please yell at me some more so I can reeeeeeally enjoy it."

Yep, I was pushing back. He definitely didn't like it, and he cocked his fist clear up by his ear. I could have popped him twice before he got done with that ludicrous windup, and I told him: "If you hit me, I'm gonna hit back. Think about it."

He dropped his fist and went back to picking up magazines and such. Later, he tried to corner me and said: "Don't you threaten me like that again, son." I asked him who was threatening whom, because he had his fist cocked and ready. I repeated that I was not going to take a hit without hitting back.

That incident had a lot of repercussions in our relationship. It took a lot of arguing down the line, but he started treating me as an adult. He'd crab about how I wasn't showing him respect, and I'd tell him he deserved a certain amount, but the respect he wanted had to be earned. Behaving like a two year old was hardly earning respect. I'd remind him of the billfold incidents and asked him why he deserved respect for that bullshit. He never seemed to have an answer for that, and fell silent.

Now, let me reiterate, he wasn't always like that. My father took me hunting, fishing, to races on Saturday night, tried to protect me from asshole football coaches, and so much more. On the days I visit his grave, I still cry. I miss him and loved him. It just wasn't easy at times, especially when these kinds of memories bubble up and stink up the joint.

Monday, April 04, 2011

Sometimes, The Cat Wins

Cat Catches Bully Bird - Watch more Funny Videos

I don't care for barn swallows because of their aggressive behavior, among other PITA traits. None of the cats in my past managed to pull off this trick. Go cat, I say!

New App!

Yeah, April Fool's Day is over, but some of the "tricks" are just now going viral. This is a good one:


Not a good sport, she was......

Sunday, April 03, 2011

Train Songs

Yeah, this is gonna be a lame post with a bunch of YouTube videos. Oh well.

Rock, classic rock, AOR, whatever - pretty much defines what I prefer to hear. Doesn't mean no country or blues, or even some pretty saccharine pop. Anyhoo, one of the common threads in some of "my" music covers the subject of trains. So we begin:


Of course this is a cover - this song didn't originate with Aerosmith. However, theirs is the version I grew up listening to. If a bar band could play this song fairly well, we knew we were gettin' some good rock! Of course this was back in the days of "drown nights," so my ability to discern quality tuneage might have been compromised.


Then there was Blackfoot's Train, Train song.Listen. Nuff said.


The Ozark Mountain Daredevils "Chicken Train." A plain ol' fun song. Frankly, this video blows for hearing the Daredevils perform, but it sure shows how people have a good time hearing it. Which is why it's so memorable to me.


Then there is The Grateful Dead's "Casey Jones," which isn't about trains at all. Really.


Then there is a song that isn't rock and roll at all - The Orange Blossom Special. This one is by Roy Clark, and this clip is obviously from Hee Haw. Bonus points for showcasing Misty Rowe. In My Humble Opinion, of course. Roy looks like he's having a good time, too.

Welp, I'm sure I've missed a ton of songs, particularly of the country and blues variety. Lemme hear about it!

Saturday, April 02, 2011

WWII In Color


An officer aboard a U.S. submarine in WWII sometime approximately in 1945 shot this video of a crashing B-29, rescuing the entire crew of twelve, and the transfer of the survivors to another sub headed back to base. The film was forgotten until years later, when the tail gunner, Vanden Huevel, received a copy of the film. You really should go read the complete story from KUSA Denver.

Can you imagine getting this video of your rescue sixty five years later?

Aaand, while I'm at it, I got this video in a link to Brightcove (apparently who hosts KUSA's videos), so I wanted to attribute it to KUSA, who did the story. Do you think any combination of search terms entered into their search box would even find this story? I had to do a manual Google site search to find it. Wow - search fail KUSA. The story was from November of last year, but it's obviously in their archives.

At any rate, the video and it's context are kewl, In My Humble Opinion, carping about a news station's website aside.

H/T Lydell

The Grass Is Always Greener Department

This is a pretty common sight when calves are involved. That is a four wire barbed wire fence that is in great shape, but it's still too coarse to keep little calves in. Mom is hanging pretty close to keep an eye on Junior, and Junior isn't straying very far. He was brave enough to get out - but further explorations? Not so much.

So this isn't really a major situation where I'd let the owner know they had cattle out. If there were a couple of calves or more, it would be more risky. The little devils would start playing and they'd lose track of important things like oncoming vehicles. This one was well aware of me, as was Mom. Plus, like human juveniles - having several together would give them more courage to disobey their Mothers. Scampering around out of Mom's reach is appealing no matter the species.

What prompted this post was threecollie's "The Way They Are" post on her blog Northview Diary. A lot of you that stop by here know her and read her stuff already, but for those of you who do not - she and her family have a dairy in upstate New York. The article was about the dangers of farm animals - she had a couple links to a story about a deputy that was killed by cattle, and an article about stock caused fatalities in four states. The line she used that really stuck with me was:
I love cows. But they are not the creatures of Disney.
This is so true. Livestock of any kind are dangerous, period. Most of you who read here already know this, but some do not. Now, I'll admit to never hearing of anyone being hurt by sheep, unless they were run over en masse or something. Hogs? They are evil. Never turn your back on hogs in a pen. Stories abound of people who were knocked out or injured into immobility who were eaten while defenseless. Hogs are not Wilbur or Babe. Period.

The situation in the picture above? 99% of the time no one is in any danger. However, it's that one percent that'll gitcha. Ol' Mama peering at me in the pic? That is not a look of love nor trust. She'd clock in well over fifteen hundred pounds. That fence would slow her down only for a moment if she decided there was a threat to her baby. She could outrun my fat butt in short order, too. I really wouldn't count on any of the bangsticks or hand cannons in my pickup to stop her before she'd put a hurtin' on me.

I've hauled a load of calves once way back when, and I've got a lot of friends in the cattle hauling business. It's a very poor idea to get into that pot bellied trailer with cattle alone - one always wants some sort of aid and assistance there with you. I'll never forget hearing about calves out of Florida. They're used to fighting off gators, so a puny trucker fails to impress them. The slaughter houses around here have dedicated haulers to keep the production line going that everyone calls "fat cow haulers" - fat cows being cattle (including heifers, steers and bulls) at the proper slaughter weight - around twelve hundred pounds or so. Fat cow hauling is mostly a whole bunch of short trips from the local feedlots to the area processing plant. A lot of guys like it for several reasons - one is they are generally home every night. It isn't a job for wimps. Most of the guys I know have several "war wounds" from something going wrong - getting caught in a gate in the trailer, or the cattle breaking something that hurts the driver, being crushed, stepped on or whatever. There are a lot of partially missing digits, facial scars, and broken bones. By the time the "fats" have reached slaughter weight, their fear of humans is just about gone.

Any time I step into a pen or pasture with cattle I'm on alert, watching for something hinky. A bunch of cows, calves and a bull or two? Do not get between the calves and their parents. The bull might just decide you are a threat, no matter what you've done. All bulls? One walks smoothly and no sudden or jerky moves, plus something like getting into a staring contest might be painful. All cows with calves? Once again - upset mothers. Calves aren't as much of a threat, but you never know - the term calves includes six or seven hundred pounders - and they are much quicker and stronger than you or I.

Possibly the most dangerous times are when the cattle are stressed and out of their element. When we're doctoring, branding or moving cattle - we keep the ol' weather eye out. One of the more hazardous situations happened to the Texas deputy in threecollie's link. He was at the scene where a cow had been hit by a car. Any traffic accidents involving cattle are fraught with danger, because the animals are stressed, probably in pain, in an unfamiliar environment, and in a defensive mode. If a cow wagon gets blown over, the cattle he's hauling that survive are gonna be in just the same mode. While our natural urge might be to get out and help herd cattle, I'd say if you've never done it before to keep your butt in your car. If you've never been around large animals, you may not have the necessary fear of them to successfully handle the critters. The thing is - considering where that deputy was from - he probably had experience handling cattle in his past. Look where it got him.

There are already plenty of critters out here that have no love for humans. Coyotes might not attack you directly, but Fluffy or Bowzer makes a great snack. Rattlesnakes? Not pals. Do not mess with badgers - they might be smaller, but they do have 'tudes. Skunks? They are never afraid of launching their ultimate weapon.  Racoons don't take kindly to being cornered, either.

But when the critter is way, way larger than you? Disney be damned.

Friday, April 01, 2011

Gmail "Motion" Beta


Yep, they've come up with a movement and gesture based solution to enhance our email experience. Check out the "Send" gesture, as well as the return and return all gestures.

Uh, huh.

On the other hand, I do consider myself punked after this morning. As in early this morning, somewhere around 12:30AM. Woot (if you don't know about them, read at Wikipedia) put up their new item, something they do every midnight Central Time. They have a tradition of putting up Bags of Crap on April Fool's Day. Bags of Crap are generally offered in the closing stages of a Woot-Off (again, go to the Wiki article). They are basically mystery offerings - three dollars for three items with five bucks shipping and handling fees. So, for eight bucks, who knows what you'll get, but they have a history of having way more value than that. Some people actually get computers, tvs or other high value items. Most of the time, it's just an odd techie item - like a bluetooth earpiece, cable or other such detritus.

So, I had forgotten all about that, and just happened to wake up at that time. I figured I'd check in to see what was for sale, when WOW!!!! I beheld the famed and hard to get BOC! And there was over a half bar left on quantity! Be still my beating heart!

Until I found out I had to play a stupid game (called, appropriately enough: Crapshoot) to "win" the chance at a bit of cabbage. When I started, one had to attain Level Four to open up the purchase button. After about forty five minutes, it had gone to Level Five. I know later on in the day, I saw a tweet that it was up to Level Ten.

I got to Level Three several times before it finally soaked in that the game wasn't fair. It is very simple - just avoid obstacles with the scroll up and down buttons - a side scrolling game, in other words. There were fixed obstacles and rolling obstacles - and when the rolling obstacles "intersected" with the fixed ones, you were out and out screwed. Then you got to start all over again at Level One. There was no way to go "between" the obstacles. Nuttin you could do, but start over and hope for the best.

Welp, at that time in the morning, I'm kinda predisposed to be cranky. Playing a rigged game pissed me off. I finally decided I wasn't gonna be a rat in their maze just to get a power squid, a pen and a USB bluetooth adapter. Not that those items would be what I won, but that is generally the sort of thing gets from the FedEx bunch.

The demand for Bits Of Cabbage is so high, Woot's servers usually crash when the highly desirable item shows up. Geeks stay online, missing sleep refreshing their screens during Woot-Offs for the couple days it takes to finish one. I don't think they had as much trouble with their servers today, plus they knew they had a nation of geeks frantically playing their stupid game.

They had me, too, for a little while.

It Begins


Yep, it's all lollipops and unicorns!

From a tweet by Adam Baldwin