Calling Dr. Bombay!

Or maybe that's Freud I'm needing.

I had a pretty vivid dream that even now, sixteen hours later, I remember. For whatever reason, I had to drive Dad's old hot rod, the 1949 F6 Ford. It only had a partial load of wheat, but I still had to take it to town. There was some completely logical reason - I was going to bring it back out the next day - but that part escapes me.

So, I'm cruising along and the old warrior was just chuckling along. In fact, I wasn't even on the gas, and it was running right at 55mph. Since the normal speed limit was a far safer 45mph on gravel, particularly considering the aged, weatherchecked tires, well, this was beginning to concern me. Also, the road was becoming more and more neglected. Not only were the road ditches covered in weeds and overhanging trees, the road itself was gradually becoming covered in vegetation that needed mowing.

And here I am just cruising through all this crap effortlessly.

I started down a slight grade when I noticed little rivulets of water running down the road, cutting tiny paths in the dirt between the grass and weeds.

So traction was gonna be an issue. Didn't seem to bother the ol' girl, she just kept chuckling on.

I could see my corner was coming up, but I could in no way shut this thing down in time. I went through the interection and with some effort brought the faithful steed to a stop. I was gonna have to back up.

Suddenly, a girl appeared at my window to help me - I didn't need her help, I had a perfectly funtional mirror, but I accepted her commands.

Then the alarm went off.

When I got to work, my truck's batteries were really down, and I had to spend about a half hour jumping the thing to get 'er to go.

The trailer I hooked to has issues - it's feeding application air back out a bleeder valve in the dash. Can't hear any air leaks outside, and it's the trailer, but it's weird. Some sort of valve somewhere is screwed. I also started dragging a chain that had partially fallen out of a box behind my crane.

Ea.ch of these instances required that I stop and mess around for ten or fifteen.

Then, as I was passing a chicken hauler, I heard a disturbance on the radio. Since we were running away from channel 19, I switched to hear what he had to say. He thought I had a flat tire on that trailer.

I was about ten miles from a tire repair shop, so I kept on. I had one that was down to fifty or sixty pounds. We pump 'em to a hundred. So, I aired it up.

Then road construction help me up for at least an hour total today. I pulled into Bismarck ND with about a half hour to spare before I'd completely have to be off the road, and my logbook is screaming foul.

My tire was still up, and we'll see if the Mighty Binder starts in the morning.

Wish I was able to finish that dream, dammit.

Just A Toy

2005 Suzuki C90 Boulevard. Actually, I think it's a C90T (touring) with the factory bags and windscreen. I wouldn't have bought it without those. It's got 26k miles on it, so it's been ridden.

It also has some extra goodies - the chrome fender lips have been added, the seat is not factory (it actually has another backrest - I like the extra room more than the extra back support), and it has a pair of slash cut pipes that are considerably louder than stock. It doesn't sound like a Harley - unless you think all loud V-twins sound alike. Of course it's got a throttle lock.

It's been a long, long time since I've ridden, and it shows. Mostly I have problems timing my stops so I don't drag my feet, and starting up again, as well as putting around in first gear going really slowly. With practice, I'll be "back."

I didn't want to spend big bucks on a Harley and then find out I don't wanna ride the dern thing. Not a whole lot of money in this sweetheart.

I was given an older size 2X Harley helmet with this, but it doesn't fit. Ordered a 3X Friday - I wanted a half helmet, but the dealer didn't have any half helmets in his catalog larger than 2X, which they had in stock anyway, and didn't fit. I'm pretty big on riding with a helmet, but it's hard not to do so when there is no helmet for Jeffro. So, I got some goggles that fit over my glasses (meeting semis about takes 'em off) so I can at least see safely.

I've just taken one short trip - went to Garden City. I took the long way - K23 north of Cimarron, then K156 on into Garden. I wasn't real confident in my abilities on US50/US400, so I kinda took the road less traveled. After I got done in Garden, I ran 'er back on 50 no problem. Other than having to duck behind the windscreen every time I met a semi.

I've really been wanting to get out on weekends and go see the local historical sites - old schoolhouses, ghost towns, museums, Indian battle sites, geological oddities and such. There are a lot of things to see within about 150-200 miles around here and all trip my trigger. I figure I can do all that a lot cheaper on this puppy than in the new truck. Not that I don't like the new truck anymore - that thing is slicker than snot on a doorknob, to rob one of Dad's old sayings. But the bike has it's charms as well, even if it isn't as comfortable.

So that's the evil plan.

Oh Well

Results of the Tostitos Fiesta Bowl Oregon Ducks 35, Kansas State Wildcats 17.

Yeah, my guys lost. Been hearing a bunch of crap from haters that are very happy to see this, most notably Kansas University Jayhawk fans.

Which is fine and normal, that is what makes rooting for sports teams so much fun. But one of the reasons I've been hearing is that KState is a relative newbie to the bowl scene compared to the long tradition of winning at other schools. KU is actually slightly better than KState in the long term, but that is damning with faint praise, frankly.

When I attended KState in the early eighties, I went to several football games, but the one I distinctly remember was the Nebraska Cornhusker game. Of course, the Wildcats (long called the Mildcats) were stomped, but the abiding memory was how red the stands were. There were more people rooting for the Huskers than Cat fans. This was actually a fairly common occurrence, because for many of those attending, Manhattan was closer than Lincoln to them. The student section had sold out in a big way - I had Nebraska fans surrounding me.

Well, now things are different. We actually have teams that make it to bowl games. We may not have the tradition of winning, and the bright lights seem to faze us, but By God I'm not gonna be ashamed of the Cats losing tonight.

For too long we've had nothing. Now we have something to cheer about. There is validity in the saying "Maybe next year" because they seem to improve. For the first time ever, the Wildcats actually were ranked number one this year. We have a quarterback who was considered in the running for a Heisman Trophy.

All thrilling stuff we just aren't used to seeing.

So, even though our guys lost, I'm not hanging my head. The Cats did a fine job this year, and I'm proud of them. They were sure an entertaining bunch to watch, and there is certainly promise for the future. Gotta love it!

EMAW!

Oh, The Ironing

Found this in the ol' spam trap today:

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The ironical part is which post of mine the spammers attempted to use.

The New Disinfectant In Town.

I'd think disinfectants would be a priority if one was dealing with a Kardashian. Just sayin'........

The Ol' Library

Was considerably depleted on June 26, as you can imagine. If you are a reader at all, you have probably participated in the "desert island" exercises where you pick the books you absolutely cannot live without should you be stranded on a desert island and have a choice.

Well, restocking a book collection is a similar process. I've spent some time mulling over what to buy first - that I want on hand at all times just in case I want to read it. Of course, my list is far larger than just these few, but I sure gave it some thought. So, I bought these:

The complete series of Horatio Hornblower books by C. S. Forester. I discovered Horatio as a freshman in high school because some outfit or another had a book sale where they brought the books to school, and if we liked what we read, we could buy it. I bought Ship of the Line, which in retrospect was a good starting point even though it was more or less in the middle. Hornblower was at his obsessive best with the huge responsibility of a ship of the line and all the endless attention that required, plus having to fret about Lady  Barbara Wellesley, whom he carried on board in the previous novel, and had fallen in love with her, plus his tangled feelings of shame because he was already married to the hapless Maria (whom he had married in a fit of feeling sorry for her, as earlier novels revealed). Plus, every decision he made was endlessly dissected in fits of self flagellation.

Well, for an angst filled teenager who felt much the same, this was quite a revelation - that he could feel this way and still be a success. It was a bit of an inspiration. I spent some years trying to accumulate the rest of the books in the pre-internet world of the seventies and eighties - and I think it wasn't until the nineties that I actually had all of them. Not matching editions at all, but By Gawd I had 'em. This set had to be purchased from three different places online, but they do match, and dammit all, I've got 'em all! Whee!

There are so many other books that I gotta have, but I think I can find them in used bookstores if I just look - things like Lonesome Dove and some of McMurtry's other works, some of James Clavell's stories of the Orient including Shogun, Tai-Pan and King Rat, for sure. Science fiction and fantasy classics have to be included - Ringworld, Ringworld Engineers, The Foundation Series (Asimov), and probably even The Lord of the Rings series. I used to have a big collection of Stephen King novels up to a point - I suppose I'll have to get The Stand, but he started pissing me off politically, I didn't think he was as good as he used to be, and he took too damned long on the Dark Tower series and I lost interest.

Sis got me hooked on the Kinsey Milhone alphabet novels by Sue Grafton, but Ms. Grafton has left poor Kinsey stranded in the eighties, and that was just a little while ago, you know. I kinda feel the same way about the Joe Leaphorn/Jim Chee novels by Tony Hillerman, which are fascinating looks into two members of the Navaho Tribal Police and all the cultural ramifications that involves. If I need to read them, I know just who happens to own all those books, and she happens to be willing to loan them to me!

Of course there are the Great Novels - Les Miserables, The Count of Monte Cristo, Steinbeck, Jack London (for sure The Sea Wolf!) and so many more that just slip my mind at the moment, but when I run across 'em, I'll be snagging immediately if not before (finances willing).

So, it's kinda fun to do this - I'm sure I'll end up with a bunch of rag tag dog eared paperbacks, but that suits me fine. I'm not much of a snob when it comes to what a book looks like, as long as it doesn't fall apart and I can read it, we're good to go!

Canary In The Coal Mine

That phrase dates back to the practice of taking canaries into coal mines, so that if the bird was exposed to dangerous gases, it would die, the miners would notice, and they could get out before they lost their lives as well.

Perhaps it is a good analogy for what happens when a government overtaxes it's minions, and they renounce their citizenship and move to another country to avoid the higher bills - become a tax exile. It's been happening in the UK for quite some time, and the people who stay are not happy about it.

We've been seeing this with major corporations leaving the US and relocating their headquarters to a more tax friendly haven for some time, with the powers that be getting rather upset that the profit minded businesses might actually prefer to operate with less tax overhead. Imagine that.

Now, we're starting to see wealthy individuals in the news doing the same thing:

Eduardo Saverin, the billionaire co- founder of Facebook Inc. (FB), renounced his U.S. citizenship before an initial public offering that values the social network at as much as $96 billion, a move that may reduce his tax bill.

snip

Saverin, 30, joins a growing number of people giving up U.S. citizenship ahead of a possible increase in tax rates for top earners. The Brazilian-born resident of Singapore is one of several people who helped Mark Zuckerberg start Facebook in a Harvard University dormitory and stand to reap billions of dollars after the world’s largest social network holds its IPO.

Of course, this is practically being unpatriotic, especially if you're coming at the issue as a tenured college professor, who is immune to market forces:

“It’s plainly lawful and at the same time profoundly ungrateful to the country that provided these opportunities for him,” said Edward Kleinbard, a tax law professor at the University ofSouthern California in Los Angeles. “He benefited from his U.S. education, the contacts he made at Harvard, and most important the extraordinary openness and flexibility of our economy that encourages startup ventures to flourish.”

I gotta admit, I about agree with the good prof up to the point that I start to question just What We Should Do To Punish Such Malfeasance. Are we a free people, or a bunch of indentured servants to our Very Tax Hungry government? Am I just a tad jealous because I lack the financial freedom to be able to make those kind of decisions? We hear the talk - Tax the Snot Outta The Rich, cuz They Can Certainly Afford It and It Just Isn't Fair. And then the rich move - away. Imagine that.

In all the material our Founding Fathers left behind on the subject of being a good citizen, I just don't remember seeing much on "paying taxes is the mark of a Patriot." Nope, I've seen how they thought someone keeping a sharp mind, well fed body and armed to boot was a great idea. Yet somehow the guys who were revolting against taxes they were none to fond of kinda negates the idea that our country was founded on the principle of paying taxes, and that is what we all should be doing now.

Perhaps it truly is a sign - the canary is dead, and the high taxes are the poison. Ya think?

Hate With The Heat Of A Thousand White Hot Suns

I have grown to detest these "animal" representatives of Geico insurance enough that I doubt if I'll ever be a customer of theirs, just because of how they've irritated me over the years. I wasn't too happy with 'em when they were among the first insurance outfits to increase fees for personal use of radar detectors. Now, they just piss me off. So, which one annoys you the worst? I'm leaning towards the pig.

The Strange Disappearance

Earnest wasn't sure anymore if he had lost his mind.

It all started a couple of years ago when he first noticed the sparkly lights. He was driving home in the frigid embrace of new fallen snow when the specks appeared in his peripheral vision. They almost seemed like fireflies to Earnest, but it was just too cold for them. He told himself it was just reflected glints of light off the crystalline snow, and his tired eyes just added the motion. However, that did not explain the distant humming he heard.

They started appearing in broad daylight, floating around his head to torment him like buzzing mosquitoes. Often one might see Earnest swatting at his visions to no avail.

Of course, the finest specialists were consulted and the latest tests were administered. CAT scans, MRIs, extensive blood work, allergists, opthamologists and endocrinologists were all called upon to diagnose Earnest's problem, and failed. No sign of brain tumors, no chemical imbalance, no nutritional deficiencies, no vision problems, nada, zip. Even an extended stay at Rochester found nothing.

And yet the lights continued and in fact increased.

Earnest could see the sidelong glances directed at him. He could just catch the whispers - crazy as a bed bug, wasting our time, belongs in a nuthouse.

He used to joke about the long sleeved white canvas shirt that tied behind his back, but lately he wasn't so sure. Could he be going nuts? The buzzing got louder all the time, the swarms of lights more intense, more frequent and more dense.

He could see the toll in the mirror. The face that he'd seen thousands of times shaving was now lined and drawn, the stubble now turning gray from a dark brown. The dark bags under his eyes belied the lack of sleep. His temples were becoming "distinguished."

What could it mean? Why him? No one answered Earnest in the still of the night. Isolated and alone, he faced the ordeal as a single entity. Thoughts of suicide even entered Earnest's thoughts. Perhaps the classic "swallowing the pistol" would silence the swarms. Or driving into a wall at high speed - he didn't want to hurt anyone by crashing head on into traffic - just to quiet the torment.

Suddenly, the swarms were back, and more intense than ever. Swirling about his head, extending for yards, the buzzing so loud Earnest thought he would scream and never stop - *Pop*!

Leaving an acrid, burned wire insulation wisp of an odor behind, Earnest disappeared from this plane of existence, never to be seen again.

Julie was driving her husband home after the hockey game. "Look at the pretty lights, honey!"

"Uh, what lights? I don't see any lights?!?!"

Natural Selection, Revisited

We only thought they were looking for fire.

Scott Adams on early man's shenanigans:

I'm no Darwin, but I have a few observations of my own. My first observation is that the only species that have survived to modern times are the ones able to fend off unwanted advances from horny pre-humans. Take the giraffe, for example. Its long legs keep its naughty bits well above the pelvic thrusting level of our ancestors. Then you have your cheetahs that can outrun us, your fish that can hide underwater, your birds that can fly away, your zebras that can kick, and so on. But the poor Neanderthals and other slow-moving bipeds all got banged out of existence by our horny ancestors.

He blinded me with science.*
*apologies to Thomas Dolby

No Truer Words.....

link
This song always gives me pause and causes me to reflect.

I've seen the needle
and the damage done
A little part of it in everyone
But every junkie's
like a settin' sun.

Of course, when Neil Young wrote and first performed Needle and the Damage Done the drug culture hadn't really been exposed to meth (or crank) or for that matter cocaine. Those iconic drugs would come later. He was writing about heroin, injected by needle, and mourning the loss of fellow musicians. The first part of the song sets the tone - how he'd seen the damage done, hit the city and how his fellow musicians kept dying, even after some success. Milk blood to keep from running out - the lengths junkies go to make sure they can get high again.

But the last stanza - wow. A little part of it in everyone. Isn't that so true? Most of us have some sort of addictive or compulsive behavior, whether it's cigarettes, booze, gambling, or some other vice. I've sure had my share of vices and the last one - eating - I just cannot seem to control. Granted, it's not heroin addiction by any means, but it's a little part of it in me, and I do understand. After all my surgeries and procedures involving opioids for pain control I can tell you it's probably a damn good thing I never got into the *ahem* recreational use of said drugs. I know I've got addictive tendencies, and while the truckers' drug has it's charms (I'm being sarcastic here), and blow for your nose was almost a social requirement at one point - they can't hold a candle to the derivatives of the poppy.

But every junkie's like a settin' sun. That phrase right there is the coup de grace on several levels. Everybody has their own light - talents, skills, personalities - an individual beacon that drug addiction dims and eventually puts out. And they go out brightly as well - burning themselves out, fighting society with their denial and hiding their pain, refusing help. In a flaming nosedive, they extinguish themselves.

I've made my past no secret. I and several friends have managed to avoid that fiery crash. One of them and I have discussed this at length, and we feel like we made it through the fire. Plus, on the other side, we found each other and discovered why we were friends in the first place. Our relationship is the stronger for it. We are both in pain for those still on the other side of that fire - maybe they just toke up a little, or they're still methheads, or whatever. The divide exists because they are trapped in their delusions, and consider us some sort of traitor or similar. They are the ones who are living their lives the way they want, and are free because of it. We, on the other hand, are sellouts to the man, or something. Whatever it takes to continue consuming that drug without admitting to the logical disconnect that they aren't free, they are in thrall to the drug and all that goes with it - the societal dismissals by the so called upper crust plus the acceptance by the dregs - those who use and deal, the continual lack of money the associated problems with obtaining more to get their fix - theft or prostitution, their poor health and so much more.

There aren't as many of the heads left anymore. They keep dying off far faster than my clean and normal compadres.

And every time I hear Neil sing this song, all of these thoughts rush through my head. I remember.

Wow, Lookit The Bales!

link

Another news report showed the authorities burning the pile - and I couldn't help myself - there was a time when being downwind would have been a dream come true.

All joking aside - the War On Drugs is doomed to failure as long as there are people like I used to be consuming the products available. No amount of property seizures or major drug busts are gonna stop the flow. We can argue about border security with the attendant issues of illegal immigration, the increasing power and boldness of the drug cartels, and possible smuggling of terrorists all we want, but until we control our urge to consume what they are smuggling - we are destined to have this albatross around our collective necks forever.

So what is the solution? I fear that like so many divisive issues there is no actual single solution. There is no black or white - only shades of gray. Clearly the path we are on isn't working. Prison sentences for minor drug offenses higher than violent crime? Something wrong there. Confiscating property right and left? Yeah, the LEOs like that - they get all sorts of tacticool urban warrior goodies just in case they need to go to war with the populace they are sworn to protect and serve. Yeah, that's not quite working so well either. Severe punitive measures sound good for a political sound bite (Vote for Me! I'm NOT soft on crime!).

Well, how about decriminalization? Or making certain drugs legal? After all, we allow alcohol - and pot isn't as "bad" as booze, right?

The moral equivalence argument really doesn't work because after all, booze is based on just one drug - alcohol. You can get the same effect from drinking just about any booze - it just might take more or less to achieve the same level of drunkenness. Drugs are decidedly different. Beer equals pot, but Everclear doesn't equal heroin or meth. Marijuana is a gateway drug - more often than not leading to harder abuses. Another argument I've heard is that natural selection would eventually win out - the drug abusers would kill themselves off and help clean up the gene pool. Yeah, like that's gonna happen in these days of entitlement programs run amok? "Free" health care? Who do you think the health care bureaucracy is gonna want to save - your grandma, who has lived a full life (not going be able to vote for much longer anyways, except in Chicago), or this poor, misunderstood self abusing youngster over here (who, when not stoned, votes)? Plus, this poor unfortunate can't afford their drugs. We'll have to make sure they get a "free" supply. It's a right, right? That's what America is all about, right? Compassion for our fellow citizens who are downtrodden? That's in the Constitution somewhere I'm sure (/snark). Cuz that's what America is all about. No, decriminalization or legalization of drugs would just shift our problems to other areas, not solving anything.

No, the problem is cultural. We will always have drug addicts and alcoholics. There will always be a percentage of people susceptible to addictions. But that doesn't mean our culture should glorify drug abuse - but it does. We can argue and obfuscate all we want, but our cultural problem is a lack of morals problem. The Christian in me cries out that everyone should get back to God - but that is something the government cannot do for us. However, the government does not need to attack Christian ideas, either. We do a lot of wondering what the Founding Fathers wanted. It's pretty clear they were quite the religious bunch. It was the idea that government might support one religion over another that had them fired up - not that government had to actively discourage the whole Christian religion. Christianity does happen to have several moral guidelines that help societies survive.

Does morality require a religion? I don't think so. Anecdotes don't equal evidence, but some of the most moral people I know are atheists. Can we force people to be moral? I think we all know the answer to that. It's voluntary, period. All we can do is try to fight immorality in whatever guise it is in and try to be good examples ourselves.

Until society as a whole sees it that way, we're screwed when it comes to any issue related to morality - which includes using drugs.

Is The Pope Catholic?

Or does a bear shit in the woods - or perhaps it defecates prime numbers.......











From Dave Barry's blog

Shaken, Not Stirred

The Encore Action movie channel has been showing old James Bond flicks tonight. For Your Eyes Only and License to Kill, starring Roger Moore and Timothy Dalton, respectively - and I find myself wishing there was at least a Sean Connery classic in the mix. Why?

When I was in high school and spending my own money on movies - I never missed a new James Bond. Even though that was the Roger Moore period. The shows he starred in got progressively further over the top parodying themselves. At least there was some humor - Timothy Dalton was pretty stiff. I liked Pierce Brosnan's efforts - and Daniel Craig seems a tad too serious and the action sequences are way overblown. Brosnan's are as well, but he seemed to have his tongue firmly in cheek.

Let's face it. Sean Connery rules as Agent 007. Unless you disagree - vote in the poll and let's talk about this! Serious stuff here!

Kissin', They Were!

Cuddy and House

Sittin' in a tree

K I S S I N G !

Actually, it was a pretty good episode for a season finale. House M.D. is still one of the only network shows I'll bother to watch.

Things That Bother Me

Beef. It's what's for dinner. Last night, anyways, ground round was the featured meat in this generic skillet meal from el Marto de Wal. Convenience and speed figure into my menu choices in a big way. I usually stay away from this sort of stuff, but I've always been a fan of stroganoff, particularly if it was prepared by my mother ( Sis does a fine job these days, too).

Anyhoo, something about the box bothered me for a while. Even when I opened the box, something just didn't seem right.

Then it hit me. This is a one time use box. All of the contents are used, and disposing the box is the next logical step. So, why is it necessary to have the closure tab and slot cut into the lid? It's not like this is a box of Super Sugar Frosted Bombs that is getting put back into the cabinet for the next time I desire a bowl.

At first I thought it was an unnecessary step in the manufacturing process - if they'd (whoever actually made this for WalMart) have eliminated that step, the cost would be reduced. After some reflection, perhaps not.

I have no idea for sure, but I'd bet this is some sort of standard size box that can be adapted to many different uses. "Yeah, Bill, let's use the 14c dash eleven to hold the strogonoff mix." "OK, but we're gonna have to make up some more - the granola bar contract used up most of our supply." The box would be standardized and the only difference would be the printing. It would probably cost more to eliminate the fastening tab/slot.

Anybody know for sure?

I've Had Enough

If you ever watch television at all (seems I've got the flu, so opportunities abound), you've seen the diabetic supply commercials (such as Liberty Medical) where they give away a "free" meter, and if you happen to be on Medicare, why gee - all the supplies are shipped to you "free of charge" or nearly so.

OK, politics about "free" aside, what has really been chapping my hide is the meter itself. They're usually some sort of off breed large display (so elderly eyes can read it better) model with a voice synthesizer that can announce the reading - just in case the display isn't large enough. OK, fine. Those are logical benefits that the elderly can use and appreciate.

Invariably, they ALL claim doing this confirms accuracy. Do these wonder meters actually test the blood sample several times? Nope - just once and the visual and vocal readings are based on a single test.

THIS DOES NOT CONFIRM ACCURACY, YOU DUMB SONSABITCHES. In order to confirm accuracy, one needs more than just one data point. Is this meter more accurate over multiple testing sessions than others? Maybe, maybe not, BUT READING THE SAME READING EVEN DOZENS OF TIMES DOESN'T MAKE IT MORE ACCURATE. Does my shooting once at a bullseye and missing it completely, but repeatedly announcing how accurate it was make it true? Not bloody likely.

GAAAHHHH!

There, I feel better.

And, just so you know, as a habitual user of blood glucose monitors, I can tell you the ones that claim the sample can be drawn from the arm because they don't need as much blood are full of feces as well. I've got one, and if the blood drop I get from a fingertip is too small, the reading will always be high. As in "Wow, I figured I'd be around 100 - but 350? Are you serious?" Retesting (at over a buck a strip) with a bigger drop of blood will return a more normal reading. So, if my meter was talking to me on the first reading, it would be full of massive amounts of dung. Confirming accuracy, no doubt - keeping up the spirit of the shyster salesmen.

Thumbs Up

In the tradition of I Can Haz Cheezburger is ROFLrazzi.com - Lol celebs and so on. It appears some of the images were originally on Cheezburger.



Must Have Sleep. No, really.



Marty Feldman - we miss ya!



Pets as a fashion accessory - yep, we're doomed.



Shatner over acting? No, why do you ask?



Cannot be unseen. No, really - I didn't need to see that.



Speaking of unseeing something - eye bleach and mental floss - stat! Truly the stuff of nightmares!

So, There I Was

We were gathered outside in a bunch, shooting the breeze. Suddenly a call came in, and my leader announced we had a four wheeler to totally rebuild. Because that is what we do - rebuild ATVs. I grabbed a plastic radiator out of a long line of identical parts - off the ground. All of us started jogging across the field, headed to wherever the ATV apparently was. We were all wearing camo.

We had to go across a feedlot, and I managed to keep up the jogging pace by leaping between the fence bars. I had seen how muddy and crappy the ground looked, so I didn't want to crawl under the fence. It occurred to me that I hadn't been in that kind of shape in years.

We were out in the open again. However,behind us power lines were being disturbed, and some were falling out of the sky around us. Huge cables - eight to twelve inches in diameter, falling a half mile or more, landing on the ground sizzling, writhing and whipping about. So, we had to keep an eye on the sky to stay in the open and not under any of the mutant power lines.

Our group - still on the ATV repair mission - found ourselves in a more urban setting. It was an older section of town - old brick business buildings found close to the tracks. We still had to watch the power lines, but only the normal kind found in an old business district. Suddenly, our leader stopped at a small building about the size of an outhouse. It was a dingy white with galvanized louvered sheet metal panels mounted on the sides. He started speaking to someone hidden inside - apparently a reporter we had to speak with on the way to completion of our mission. Rebuilding an ATV.

The reporter started yelling at our guy, telling him that some celebrity or another shouldn't have said what they said, and how rude and tasteless it was. Then, another reporter on a panel started arguing counterpoint - standing up for what that particular celebrity had done. As I cleared the cobwebs from my brain, I realized I had fallen asleep in my sister's recliner with the television on, and had woken up during a "panel discussion" on some tabloid tv show.

I fumbled with the unfamiliar remote and couldn't get the damn tv off quick enough.

The Toy

I saw the oddest toy the other day. The thing was just weird - like so many of the "new" toys I guess I just don't get it.

I don't even know what you'd call the dern thing. It was shaped like a tennis ball placed atop a cone, and the "base" and "top" were both colored lime green like the high visibility balls. Instead of a tough outer coating, it sort of had a micro suede like covering. It also had a long white clothesline cord attached towards the bottom of the base, which is how I found the thing in the first place. A plush toy on a string.

I needed a bit of cord to tie a bundle of stuff together, and when I found a tangled mess of cord. I picked it up and as I sorted it out, the attached thing became evident. Wow, was it ever heavy for something so small. It was knocked around a bit dragging it across the garage, plus I fear it got a bit dirty as well. I had a bit of fun twirling it about, but it was really too heavy for that. Looking it over, it had a black dot on top of the ball portion. What was really strange was the dot apparently followed me, seemingly swiveling to keep the black spot pointed at me. When I handled the thing, it hummed. Not a happy sort of sound, more like a muffled wasp or bee buzzing.

So, it wasn't my garage, or my kids' toy - and it surely wouldn't do to tie some stuff together. I just neatly coiled the "tail" and put the whole thing on a handy shelf, and went on about my business. And later, I asked around, and none of the kids around here have a clue what kind of toy it was.

Oh, well, guess I'm just out of it, as always. Heh.

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Execute command function DESTROY

working........

working........

working........

DESTROY ready to acquire target. Visual targeting enabled.

acquiring target.......

acquiring target.......

acquiring target.......

Target acquired. Destroy command Y to commit N to cancel.

Destroy command Y to commit N to cancel.

Destroy command Y to commit N to cancel.

Destroy command Y to commit N to cancel.

Waiting........

Waiting........

Waiting........

Destroy command Y to commit N to cancel.

Waiting........

Waiting........

Waiting........

Destroy command Y to com-

N entered. Destroy command canceled.