Yeah, Sure.

Get off Hagar's a$$, Helga. People in glass houses, etc. Remember you own a pet duck.

Sorry. Not buying this premise. Billy understands graduation and what is going on just by the visuals on television, and he doesn't know about mortarboards, tassels and robes? I realize he is the product of public education, but still. If Jeffy had said it, I'd could believe that.

Rowhrrrrr!

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Just in case you wanna know the latest thing Jeri Ryan is up to, well, this is it. You may have guessed that she still starts my motor. Yes, yes she does.

You've Probably Guessed By Now

My feelings on the subject at hand.

Captain Obvious

Strikes again. Billy has no sympathy for his rat fink sister who is too stupid to wear shoes. Billy's world weary demeanor shows he knows karma is a bitch, but it arrives in it's own sweet time, and a stubbed toe is hardly payback for all the crap Dolly has pulled to get Billy in trouble.

Every Once In A While

Image credit Google

Google does something right.

Recurring Nightmare

I can guarantee you I've had nightmares about this. Two fiberglass tanks were loaded way too high and hit the overpass - you can see tank number one on the left. I'm not sure how these were loaded, but I'd assume they were loaded vertically just like they'd sit on the ground. Normally, we send out all of our tanks loaded on their sides. Ten foot tall tanks - maybe load them like this - that usually puts us at under 13' tall. Fifteen foot tall tanks, which these appear to be, loaded vertically would be seventeen to eighteen feet tall.

Supposedly there was a pole car in front - and their stick didn't hit. That means the pole car operator screwed the pooch - you are supposed to set the stick slightly higher than the load, so if it hits, you may or may not fit the load under, but you'd damn well better stop and check carefully.

Most overpasses seem to handle sixteen feet of clearance okay, and lots aren't posted if they are over sixteen feet. These things were just too damn tall to be on the interstate system, period.

This happened just west of Sterling, ND on I94 east of Bismarck, and I got it from a page on Facebook I follow: Bakken Oilfield Fail of the Day. They have a lot of photographic proof of recto-cranial inversions.

And Here You Thought

You were having a bad day. Someone always has it worse!




H/T Nuckle Kim

Cruise Up and Down This Road

I just got through reading a book that just stunned me with the familiarity with my formative years. Robert Rebein, who is originally from Dodge City, has written a book about growing up in the old cowtown. I graduated in 1977 from Cimarron - eighteen miles to the west of Dodge, Robert in '83. He has captured the essence of teenage prairie living, and in fact, life on the prairie, period, for all ages. The name of the book? Dragging Wyatt Earp: A Personal History of Dodge City.

There are parallels for us and differences, of course. He was raised in a large Catholic family and went to Sacred Heart School in Dodge. Small Catholic family here, but I have had experience with nuns in Catechism (at St. Stanislaus in Ingalls) and at St. Mary of the Plains College in Dodge. Dragging, or cruising Wyatt Earp was a bit more of a destination for us than him - we had our own route in Cimarron with much the same social rules. We had some reverence for dragging Earp - it was in the Big City, there were People Who Might Want to Fight (particularly if one strayed further east of Boot Hill, where the gangs were), and there were more fast cars and hopefully fast women there. A sort of Mecca, as it were.

The book is divided into three parts - Part I: The Town, Part II: The Country, and Part III: Of Horses, Cattle and Men.

Part I contains the chapter Dragging Wyatt Earp, and here is where most quotes I've read have been pulled - mostly because they're damned good.

Wyatt Earp, to us, was not a person but a place, a mile-long ribbon of asphalt that stretched from Boot Hill on the east to the Dodge House on the west

Wyatt Earp, the historical figure, really didn't make a dent in our lives. The street probably had more influence on us. But another observation Rebein makes really hit home for me:

What is it about growing up in a small town in the West that breeds such bravado, such innocence and blind faith? Was it our isolation? The vaunted self-reliance of the region? The fact that our parents and teachers praised us inordinately or that acceptance into any of the state colleges was a fait accompli? Maybe but I have another explanation:  we were leaving. And not just for a year or five years, but forever. Like the region's cattle, wheat and corn, we'd been raised for export, and most of us had learned this at about the same time we learned that Santa Claus was a fiction.  

We'd been raised for export.

It's true. Since day one, most of us knew that our parents wanted something better for us, that we were to get an education away from cattle and farming, and leave. Find a job we could love, get married and raise kids in a more forgiving climate.

There were exceptions - many were being raised to take over the farm or the family business, which most have done with great aplomb with no regrets. Some of us found we didn't really want to leave - that the lonely, rough, inhospitable prairie is something we love.

Part II contains some of the history of our little corner of the prairie, and Rebein's personal search for Quivira, the legendary home of the seven cities of gold that the Spaniard Francisco Vasquez de Coronado sought. His trips to several Indian massacre sites, seeing the Flint Hills led him to discover that the preferred campgrounds of the Cheyenne mirrored his own choices (and mine as well) - a scenic area sheltered from the incessant winds with water, game and grass. He also talks a lot about hunting - something that for most of us is akin to breathing.

Part III is all about the cattle and cowboys. I can certainly relate to the cattle - I've doctored, herded and branded many a heifer or steer (and made 'em steers in the first place). Dad didn't believe in keeping horses, so I have never really ridden or learned to ride - just never had the inclination. So, am I a cowboy? Not so much, and never will be. Robert Rebein is, and regales in the experience, making me realize how much I missed. He also spends some time doing some modern cowboying - working as a pen rider at a feedlot managed by one of my ex neighbors. I say ex, because I'm a townie these days, but his house was on my route to work for the past seven years before the ol' place burned down.  And he is the epitome of a modern businessman cowboy, and Rebein captures him elegantly and truthfully. There is certainly a cool factor in reading about your neighbors in someone's book.

There is so much more in this book that I am not even beginning to cover here. I think that anyone raised on the Great Plains would find commonality here, and those who weren't surely could see the attraction to our choosing to live here. It was a great regret when I reached the end.

The book is also available in Kindle format for $9.99 - it's how I read it (Amazon's Cloud Reader browser plugin). If you might wonder what makes me and my compadres tick, this will surely go a long way into gaining some insight.

Highly, highly recommended. Sure wish I could write as well....

In My Best Johnny Carson Voice

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"I did not know that."

Nine cylinders, 150 hp, read all about it here.

Yeah, it's only 150 hp - not much for a bike. But criminy, how can you not love the sound? I'll bet the torque makes it a bear when ya crank on it anyway. Plus, probably not street legal at all, with the drive belt so close to the rider's thigh.

But when she sings, man, does she ever sing!

R.I.P. Dick Trickle

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In a sport liberally populated with memorable characters, Dick Trickle stood out.

At about noon on Thursday, the Lincoln County Communications Center received a call indicating that there would be a dead body at the Forest Lawn Cemetery in Boger City, and it would be the speaker's. Return calls to the number went unanswered. Crews arriving at the scene found Trickle's body lying near his pickup truck.

At the moment, no one knows why.

His name alone made him memorable and the butt of late night comedians' jokes for years. The fact is that he was a hard nosed race car driver who was quite successful in regional racing across the nation. He never did win a Winston/Sprint Cup race, but he did win in the Busch/Nationwide series.

I remember when Dick Trickle finally won a #NASCAR Busch race, Hickory '97. In Victory Lane he says "I get free beer, right?"
— Ryan McGee (@ESPNMcGee) May 16, 2013

From all accounts, he would have made an excellent ambassador for a beer sponsor.

One reason he didn't excel in the top tier of NASCAR's hierarchy is that he didn't start until most drivers had retired - he won the Rookie of the Year honors in 1989 - at the young age of 48. Mark Martin is the "old man of the sea" in NASCAR right now, and he is currently 54, but he started in NASCAR before Dick, in 1981. 

He was also from Wisconsin - a rarity in NASCAR back in the day. He said and did what he wanted, political correctness be damned. He was probably the last of the blatantly public cigarette smokers in high profile stock car series - the video shows him lighting up one during a caution. Not long after that, NASCAR's high command decided that had to stop. He had permission before - but the powers that be decided it was detrimental to their image. He had cigarette lighters installed in his cars, and in some helmets he had holes drilled to insert a cigarette.

I had the opportunity to see him in person at Texas Motor Speedway many moons ago. We happened to be in the infield in the area between the two series' garages during practice. The Busch series had wrapped up, and the Winston Cup was getting ready to start. The "double dippers (drivers who had entered both races) were hustling across that area to get to their Winston rides. Dick and Michael Waltrip were walking and talking together - Dick hurriedly burning one. It was quite a contrast - Michael is 6'5", and Dick was considerably shorter. For every two steps Mikey made, I think poor Dick had to make three or four.

He was a legend in stock car circles in and around Wisconsin and much of the Midwest area. His kind isn't made much anymore, nor are they all that welcome. Truly a shame, and I hope he found rest from what ever was driving him to suicide.

Rest in peace, race car driver.

Beyond Her Ken

It's the New Math. Dolly just isn't getting the hang of super simple arithmetic. I think we can rule out physicist from Dolly's future now.

Such A Geek

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I don't care, sometimes certain scenes from movies make me sad. And it's hardly a secret how I like Star Trek, particularly the The Original Series. Actually, liked em all, but probably Voyager and Enterprise the least. And while this clip isn't as moving as Spock's death, it's still noteworthy (for a geek).

I mean, how can you go wrong? The Next Generation was definitely blessed to have Sir Patrick Stewart as a regular cast member, and Bill Shatner - what a career! He definitely gave Captain Kirk style and personality. To see him die, well, it was rough. Spock, last I knew, is still alive even in the rebooted movie franchise.

Speaking of which, I'm quite sure I'll find my fat butt parked in a theater near me next weekend if at all possible, to see Star Trek Into Darkness. I liked the first reboot, even if it was a tad busy for me, and hope this one has some more character development. The usual interplay between Kirk, Spock and Bones that was the hallmark of the original series was pretty sketchy. I'm hoping J.J. Abrams has taken on that task.

So, what do you fellow fans out there think of the "new" "reimagined" Star Trek?

I've Always Heard

All about how we are uncultured louts out here in flyover country and how NYC is the center of the genteel universe. We do have art out here, but to compete against something so compelling as this?

A small group of young women in New York has taken to gathering in city parks to read pulp crime novels and other works while topless.

Of course this post is useless without pictures....

photo from nydailynews.com

photo from nydailynews.com

 I mean, they are promoting reading and all, so clearly they are supporting the arts by going unsupported themselves. How artistic is that?

I guess the critics are right. We just can't compete out here. We've just got nutjobs with mobiles made from junk*, and Western heroes turned into huge action figures. Or even someone like John Steuart Curry, among whose works is this mural in the Kansas State Capital building.

from Wikipedia

John Brown, famous historical abolitionist from Kansas with a tornado, settlers on the trail, prairie fires, sunflowers and the Civil War just can't compete with topless wimmin reading books. Just. Can't Do. It.

As a resident of the Great Plains Flyover Country, I hang my head in shame.......


*Ol' M.T. Liggett popped up in the news the other day. He is the Kansas man who volunteered his burial plot so the now perished from this earth Boston bomber had a place to lay for all eternity.

Ahhhh, Sweet Memories

Saw this on Facebook tonight, and it really brought back memories. I used to drive a single bunk version of this very truck with much the same paint scheme. And yes, I had it shined up like this one as well.

Sorry about the quality of the image - it's off an elderly Tripod website I set up years ago. Now when I sign in, I cannot access the original images. I can only copy the thumbnails. But go there if you wanna see some of the trucks I used to drive as well as my ol' Vette and other personal vehicles. I did get a Hooter's waitress to pose in the Batmobile (that is what little kids called my car back in the day), and those pics are there as well.

At any rate, this particular Ford CLT-9000 had Detroit two stroke power in the form of a Silver 8V-92 rated at 475hp. The regular ol' green ones were rated at 435 tops, but this series was supposed to be new and improved, and had a high mileage warranty on it. Which we used, since some o-rings failed and started dumping the contents of the radiator into the crankcase. Detroit stood behind it and rebuilt it into a smoking shadow of it's former self. Never ran right again.

But when it ran, boy did it run good. I could really piss off the Caterpillar boys. The famed 3406B had come out, and people were cranking on the fuel pump hard for that "little extra help" in the HP dept. This sucker could out drag them. It had a ten speed direct (no overdrive) and 370s, so it didn't run much faster than seventy five or so. This was back in the 55mph days, so that kind of speeding was kinda risky anyways.

I'm sure I've told this story before, but what the hey. Back in the good ol' days, National Carriers really was "The Elite Fleet" like you see on their trailers to this day. Back then, the tractors that leased on with the company had to be nearly show quality and fairly new. And they all drove fast as well, fuel mileage be damned. One guy had several yellow Petes with V8 Cats and sidepipes. They'd go blowing by me in one of the far lesser trucks I started in and just rumble on by, sucking out my windows whilst I putted along. That generally happened in an older Ford cabover with a 350 Formula Cummins turned up to 400 and worn down to the point where stock 350 Cummins would outrun the thing. It also had a nine speed - the Chicken Hauler Fleet Truck Tranny.

But not the Blue Beast. I and a compadre were idling through Kingman, KS, eastbound on US54 one fine day and we could hear some Critter (old slang for National Carriers) drivers talking. We were in the left lane at the last stoplight in town, and they pulled up next to me in the right lane. Peterbilt 359. Cat with straights. Big walk in sleeper.

Yeah, we'll blow off these grain haulers here in town, then when we get outta town on the four lane, we'll do some serious motoring to get to the Air Cap (Wichita).

Uh huh. I let out on the clutch and went to hammering, and slamming my way through the gears. Left him in the freaking dirt. Truly it was sad. What was even worse was my compadre, who was piloting an older and pretty rough looking IHC 4300 conventional pulling doubles cranked him as well.

We cruised on out of town where the four lanes ended, then after a couple miles, it opened back up to a four lane all the way into Wichita. After about five minutes, one of the lead Critter's partners asked:

Why aren't we blowing off these grain haulers? I thought we were gonna stroll into Wichita?

He started grumbling about not running what other people wanted him to run, and not being forced into something he didn't wanna do, or some such drivel. He was pissed that his doors were sucked out, and didn't have the sense of humor to deal with it.

At any rate, that damn truck required more screwing around than I wanted to put into it. All the air lines were Ford specific, and not what you'd find in any other American made Class 8 vehicle. This truck was old enough that there were a ton of air leaks, and every air line required special adapters. The HVAC system was cobbed from their automotive division, where all the switches activated vacuum motors. Vacuum motors to switch from heater to vent to defroster. Vacuum motors to vary the water valves for more or less heat. And so on.

Vacuum goodies that were designed to be in carbureted gasoline powered vehicles. Diesels are fuel injected and generally turboed, so vacuum is a pretty scarce commodity in one. So, Ford's solution was a vacuum generator, which was a venturi port that ran compressed air through it all the time. Which, since air dryers were also a scarce commodity back then, meant the thing was using air all the time, and since Detroit compressors put out oily air, meant the thing would plug up all the freaking time. The various vacuum motors were spring loaded, by the way, to a default setting of full heat and defrost. So, running down the road on a hot, sunny summer afternoon in excess of a hundred degrees, enjoying the A/C would actually find yourself scrambling to shut everything down since your defroster was cranking out some mighty hot air,since the venturi was plugged up.

Then, just because it was a cabover, it sucked. Remember, this was back when all trucks had leaf spring suspensions, not air ride. Cabs were firmly mounted to the frame. You were riding ON the front axle. Being high had one being pitched from front to rear, and side to side. There was a saying: You'll always be the first one to an accident in a cabover.

And another Ford peculiarity - if you look at the top pic, you can see the depressed handhold. That was actually kinda cool, but look for the bottom step. It's a thin strip held out by two curved pieces of steel. I'd usually bail out of the thing by swinging around, grabbing the grab bar with one hand and jump out into space, skipping the two inset steps, grabbing the bar with my other hand, and land on the bottom step with my right foot.

However.

Sometimes I'd miss that step and my foot would go inside into that big gap, and I'd bust my ass hard. That setup trapped my leg up to about my calf and I was just along for the ride.

And, the damn thing was too tall for a lot of elevator loadout doors back then as well. Most were originally designed to clear Grandpa's '39 Chevy, not semis. Finally the grain elevators started to knock out their doors to accommodate the stand up sleepers that started showing up on their doorstep to load, but I always had to barely scrape by. I replaced several horns, horn covers, and bent the turnouts on the stacks several times. There was no "air dump valve" available to lower the truck.

I had a real love/hate relationship with that truck. When the motor was fresh from the factory - boy did it ever run. But, typical two stroke Detroit, it went to hell tout suite. And Ford just needed to get out of the Class 8 truck business, which they eventually did. But it sure did look nice with it's blue and silver multi colored stripes, with a fresh coat of wax and the wheels and tanks all polished up. It was sharp, man.

If I had to drive that today, after running air ride cab conventionals with air ride suspensions for all these years, I'd tell you to go straight to hell.

Things That Piss Me Off # 5409

Look. I understand. Driving through a thunderstorm is a scary proposition when it is raining very hard and the wind is blowing seventy odd mph. I get it.

However, if you are on a heavily trafficked road, slowing down and impeding traffic is not a wise idea. Putting on your flashers isn't helping, either. Why?

Because of your fearful reaction, people could die. Probably not you, because you'll probably just motor on like nothing happened. But the people behind you? Their patience is gonna run out and they will try to pass you. And it's not likely to be the guy right behind you - nope, it's the impatient idjut five cars behind who will pull out to pass the whole bunch and end up in a head on collision.

All because you had no business being out there if you can't keep up with traffic.

So, pull off the road already and wait it out if the weather scares you so badly. No, not on the side of the road, dummy - someone will come along and rear end you, and you might get hurt as well. Nope, find a driveway or a side road and get the f&(k outta the way. If you are on an interstate or some such, do not pull under an overpass and park on the side of the road. For the same reason. Exit the damn road, stupid.

When the conditions are bad like that, I'd just about as soon be in my truck. Why, you ask?

For one thing, my windshields are nearly vertical. Look at your car and see how your windshield is considerably sloped rearward. Imagine gallons of water being dumped on your car at once. My vertical windshield will shed water far more quickly than your sloped one will. My wipers keep up.

I'm also usually heavy enough that hydroplaning isn't as big of an issue as well. So, I can see where I'm going, and am tracking straight without being jerked around. Even my pickup has more vertical glass.

But all that is neither here nor there if you find yourself too scared to drive with the rest of the crowd. Do us all and yourself a favor - get off the road and wait until it clears. On the Great Plains, that generally takes all of five minutes.

Never Happen

This encephalopathic little moron will never belong anywhere. Learn to tie your shoes and show some initiative, then maybe you'll have a chance.

I Wish...

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Who would want an Evinrude if you've got a big ol' Johnson?!?


H/T Animal

Why Having Children Is A Truly Stunningly Bad Idea

By Thel Keane.

Sigh......

Happy Birthday, man. Miss ya.

Sequester Trifecta

Sometimes great minds think alike.

I guess what really pisses me off is that this is all political theater. The powers that be are not cutting back on spending for themselves, and any cuts that have to be taken are set up to send us a message not to mess with their spending habits. This administration is acting like spoiled brats. Cancelling White House tours? Really?

Un Freaking Believable

What a load of - of - something.... IMHO, Jeffy now has carte blanche to kick Dolly's ass early and often. The spineless little weasel wouldn't do it, unless Mommy did it for him. At any rate, Dolly is in sore need of an attitude adjustment, probably involving corporal punishment applied to her bottom. Just sayin.'

Have Ya Noticed?

How the mainstream media has really been screwing the pooch lately? I mean more so than usual. Heh.

We would not be the only ones who have ascertained this fact.

The editorial cartoonists - even some of the liberal variety, have noticed as well.

This one pisses me off the most, as it outlines the ever present bias in our news media. Every time some idjut does something stupid, why then, it has to be tea partyin,' knuckle draggin,' mouth breathin,' redneck NRA members, radical religious right, Sara Palin lovin,' conservatives. Because we'uns have such a track record, doncha know. Eighteen years ago, hyperconservative Timothy McVeigh blew up the Murrah Building in OKC.

So "our" side is not without blood on our hands, even though it was put there by those who really had nothing to do with how conservatism works. The rest of the nutjobs have had definite liberal leanings. Judge ye conservative whacko until it's proven that is isn't, then don't judge so harshly when it's a liberal? How does that work, anyhow?

Frankly, I could give a rat's behind about the political leanings of these psychos. That they all need to die painful and memorable deaths is something I'm all in on. Never mentioning their names ever again would be another thought. But as long as there are those who'd try to use these acts of terror as triggers to obtain their political ends by destroying my rights, then I've as much use for those statists as I am the psychos who actually committed the crimes. Tar and feathers seems ever so applicable.

So Called "Gun Rights"

That was part of a comment left on this post by Erin Palette of Lurking Rhythmically. She was doing a bit of celebrating over the Senate's defeat of a slew of gun control bills, and one commenter wasn't happy about her stance on "gun rights," the chosen method of marginalizing her position.

The original post was a thing of beauty, but her response to the commenter is even better. Ms. Palette is a Pegasister (female brony), and spends a lot of her blogging time on that pursuit. Perhaps that might lead you to think she's a rollover, but you would be mistaken. Erin is heavily into self defense and the preservation of her rights, while still maintaining an overall progressive attitude. And she has a very good command of the English language and is quite adept at skewering those who piss her off. She does NOT care for condescending behavior, period.

So, go and read. Read her original post, then her followup. You'll appreciate the time you took.

Science!!! Ain't It Great?!?

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What happens when you wring out a washcloth soaked in water while in zero gravity? Now's yer chance to find out!

I gotta admit, it was different than I expected. I figured the water would sort of stick together, and it would end up getting sucked up by the now squeezed washcloth. The surface effects, not so much. Yeah, I learned all about surface tension and the molecular bonding that makes it possible, but it still didn't occur to me.

Only Shooting Stars Break The Mold

I do not have an iPod. I do, however, have a Sansa mini - I rarely use it and would have to look at the back to tell you the model. It works, though, and on long trips in the Chebby Z71 it's at work.

So, since the fire, that and my laptop are the repository of all my music. Luckily I digitized my CD collection last year - and found that a lot of my CDs had been rendered unplayable from too many miles in the various OTR trucks I've driven.

That's neither here nor there, this post is about stuff that y'all would probably not expect to find on the device. For instance:


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I've always thought ol' Dwight was pretty cool. My opinion of him went up when he costarred in Billy Bob Tbornton's Sling Blade portraying the abusive Doyle. He's not taken up the acting bug and stuck with music, which is our loss. He's a good actor.

Speaking of pretty cool, there's Clint Black:


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Good stuff.

Then, switching musical genres completely:


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Completely different, but entirely listenable AFAIC. Of course this was featured in the animated movie Shrek, which was a major hoot.

And besides that, there is wisdom in the line:

Only shooting stars break the mold

Dern tootin.'

Cry Me A River

The Senate can now officially consider it's ass has been chewed by Our Thwarted Dear Leader.

Nothing that was defeated would actually prevent or stop the killings that prompted this move. They were, however, infringing on our Constitutional freedoms. Obama claims the NRA "willfully lied" about gun registration. No, asshole, they didn't lie because your minions have said that registration is your goal. You, on the other hand, are lying when you and yours claim ninety percent support for the defeated legislation. You are also lying when you claim guns can be purchased without background checks on the internet.

Dancing in the blood of your constituents in order to advance your treasonous plans fails to impress us, Mr. President. Go back to ignoring the British and hide behind your teleprompter, before history rolls over you and your traitorous ass.

You may have guessed I don't care for getting my butt chewed for this shit.

Never Speak Of It

First rule of the Family Circus Club is to never speak of The Family Circus Club.

Then, never speak of personal responsibility. Which is why Ida Know, Nobody and Not Me are recurring characters. None of Dolly's siblings were handy, so she had to blame the sidewalk.

Wow. It's soooo cute when all of your children avoid responsibility and lie. Cuz that's how it is. Little kids are lying bastards and all we can do is laugh about it. Laugh, laugh, laugh. Ha ha. Isn't that funny.

Shi**ing My Pants

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Hah! Made ya look!

I'd be lying if I said I'd never shipped my pants before.

Lil' Psycho

 

Jeffy destroys what he doesn't understand. Here he prepares to incinerate a spider with his magnifying glass because he is incapable of conceptualizing how it perambulates.

Second Thoughts On Second Thoughts

Maybe I've been too hard on Jeffy in the past, especially where tying shoes are concerned. He has still never learned. Perhaps he's suffering from a learning disability, and I'm a cruel bastard who should be ashamed for making fun of someone who cannot help it.

Well, that's all fine and good, but the Keane Comics Complex thinks it is funny to bring it up all the time, and he's their character. So, I'm surmising that Jeffy is just a hopeless basket case and we'll be supporting him in some institution for the rest of his life after Mommy kicks the bucket or finally has had enough. Dolly, of course, knows which side her bread is buttered. It's Mommy, all the way.

Rall on Ebert

Obviously Ted didn't care for Roger Ebert. I didn't either, but for different reasons.

Scary - agreeing with Ted! Snork!

I Stand With Putin

Pic from The Telegraph, as well as the story

Now I realize we are at war ideologically with ol' Vlad Putin, but I gotta give him some props here. Several members of the womens' rights group Femen protested topless with profane slogans painted on their fairly bodacious bods. I make that call after seeing pictures of their International Topless Jihad Day last week, where they surely did not make many friends among Muslims (pics at the link NSFW, just the way I like 'em). Not that there is anything wrong with that.

Now I ask you, is that the face of a man who doesn't appreciate nekkid wimmen throwing themselves at him? Tell me he does not appreciate the spectacle. He did, in fact, enjoy the whole thing:

He added: “To be honest, I didn’t really hear what they were shouting because the security [guards] were very tough. These huge guys fell on the lasses. That seemed not right to me, they could have been handled more gently.” 

Mr Putin appeared to show a flash of his well-known salty humour, adding: “I didn’t make out whether they were blondes, chestnut-haired or brunettes.”

Of course he had to be all prim and proper:

The Russian president said protests by Femen activists were nothing new. “We’ve all got used to these demonstrations and I don’t see anything terrible here,” he said.

However, he added: “If someone wants to debate political questions, then it’s better to do it clothed rather than getting undressed. You should undress in other places, such as on nudist beaches.”

Yah, yah, yah. Your face just gave you away, brother. And what fun would it be if the Femen protested at a nude beach? These gals beat PETA and Bare Breasts Not Bombs all to hell and back, In My Humble Opinion (both links NSFW). And (definitely NSFW, and you really, really don't want to see this) Femen is much, much better than San Francisco's Inflated Scrotum Man.

There's nude, and then there's nude. There is a difference!

Sunday Funnies

Been a while since I've done one of these, so here goes!

Nice to know the order of importance in Our Dear Leader's head.

Pretty much.

At least Crankshaft won't be driving the bus with actual children anymore until his broken arms heal.

As y'all probably know, I have little use for Jeff Danziger. However, even he sees that the jobs market is screwed.

 

As I was reading this I feared that the comics page would just never be the same. Turns out Marmaduke "marks" things differently than other dogs. Whew!

Turns out Snoopy is a stinking sellout. Of course, we've had clues (coff, coff, Metlife, coff). No surprise.

 Couldn't not post a Calvin and Hobbes Classic, now could I? Calvin shows he has a firm grasp on modern business principles.

I'm All For Liking This

This is an exchange I noticed on Facebook the other day. It's all local women posting, except for the instructor.

While the big robbery the other day was an influence, I know for a fact that it was just a tipping point. These women had been considering taking a class so they could carry concealed for some time and had been putting it off. The robbery was just a reminder.

I cannot tell you how much this gives me the warm fuzzies.

I am very happy indeed that our state and local laws allow and encourage women to be able to defend themselves effectively. They are completely aware that law enforcement is quite a bit of time away from them should there be any trouble, and that the local LEOs feel that women should be armed if they choose.

Plus, this is not the only thread talking about women taking concealed carry - there are others who are committed as well.

Like I said before: we don't care for this sort of thing in our town, and won't stand for it. This includes the women - not just us guys beating our chests. If someone is planning a repeat, best keep this in mind.

Edited to add: I had nothing to do with this - it was all from our local women! I just happened to see it on Facebook! And, I'm proud of them all!

Brilliant!

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"What about my needs?"

"It's not you, it's me."

Pretty decent parody, even if it does have a commercial at the end.

I Know I'm An Evil, Evil Man

 

When I see this, I think if Jeffy thinks bugs need to be indoors so bad, perhaps it's time for a constructive moment: "Jeffy, you should really go out and play with one of these"

Have fun!

How Mens' Minds Work

It was not a man who noticed the lack of a seatbelt. Just sayin.'

H/T Nuckle Kim

They Helped Me Make Up My Mind

Been looking at new phones lately. I'm with Verizon, but that's not who I started with. Originally, it was Kansas Cellular. Then it was Alltel, who I really liked. Now Verizon. Not the same.

But I and every trucker I know from this area gets far better service in points unknown than anyone else. Period. When the iPhone first hit, one of our lease drivers had, absolutely had to have one. We ran together up to North Dakota, and ran most of the way back together. He lost service in Nebraska, and only got it around certain parts of I94. Granted, that was a while ago, and AT&T and Sprint have improved service in that area. Another one has service from our local telco, and they're hooked up with Sprint for the rest of the country. He can make phone calls while in ND, but not text or get online. Sprint apparently has no data agreements there. Verizon does.

So, I'm not gonna switch carriers. If I get a subsidized phone, I'm gonna have to ditch the grandfathered all you can eat data plan. For now, Verizon still lets me have it, and if I want to keep it, I have to pay full price for a new phone. Considering the way the industry works, I'm skeptical that I will be able to keep it long term even if I do purchase at full price. One day, they'll just announce that the grandfathered data plans are history.

So, not sure about keeping my buffet data.

And I've really had good luck with Motorola phones over the years, but I'm sure leaning towards the new Samsung Galaxy S4 that will be out this summer for sure. Worth a try.

So, since my phone is paid off, and they're pushing me to buy a new one and offering discounts. One ad caught my eye the other day - "trade in your old phone for cash!" it said. So, I looked up what I'd get from my Motorola Droid2.

Fifty freaking cents. Are you serious? Why didn't they just tell me they didn't want the damn thing? I'm not letting 'em have it for fifty freaking cents - they can stick that, well, yeah, you know where.

So I'll be keeping that puppy as a spare. Screw 'em.

Twenty Years Ago Today

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Alan Kulwicki, reigning Winston (now Sprint) Cup Champion , lost his life in a plane crash along with key crew members and personnel involved with Hooter's - his primary sponsor. It was their plane.


Alan was a significant personage in NASCAR history because he bootstrapped his way to the top. His pit crews were often volunteers, and Alan's education as an engineer was key in setting up his cars. At one point, he had no sponsors. Hooter's sponsored car was unable to make the race in question, and asked to talk to Alan. A one race deal was struck, and at the Atlanta 500 he scored am eighth place finish. This led to a continuing relationship between Hooters and Alan.

The car was a Ford Thunderbird. Later, Alan campaigned NASCAR to allow him to change the nameplate from "Thunderbird" to "Underbird" to note his underdog status, and they allowed it.

He won his Championship in one of the closest races ever in the pre-Chase days.

The 1992 Hooters 500, the final race of the 1992 season, is considered one of the most eventful races in NASCAR history.^[47] It was the final race for Richard Petty and the first for Jeff Gordon.^[47] Six drivers were close enough in the points standings to win the championship that day.^[48] Allison led second-place Kulwicki by 30 points, Bill Elliott by 40, Harry Gant by 97, and Kyle Petty by 98 and needed to finish sixth or better to clinch the championship.^[49] Kulwicki received approval from NASCAR and Ford to change the "Thunderbird" lettering on his bumper for the race to "Underbird" because he felt like the underdog in the contention for the championship.^[50] During Kulwicki's first pit stop, the first gear in the car's transmission broke.^[20] Andrews said, "We had to leave pit road in fourth gear, because we had broken metal parts in there, and only by leaving it in fourth are you not going to move metal around as much. We could only hope that the loose piece of metal didn't get in there and break the gears in half. We had three or four pit stops after it broke. I held my breath all day long."^[20] Allison was racing in sixth place, closely behind Ernie Irvan, when Irvan's tire blew with 73 (of 328) laps left in the event.^[49] As a result, Allison ran into the side of Irvan's spinning car and his car was too damaged to continue.^[49] Kulwicki and Elliott were left to duel for the title.^[47] While leading late in the race, Andrews calculated the exact lap for his final pit stop so that Kulwicki would be guaranteed to lead the most laps and would gain five bonus points.^[46] Kulwicki made his final pit stop only after leading enough laps to guarantee the bonus points.^[20] To save time, the pit crew did a fuel-only pit stop. Not changing tires allowed them to be available to push the car to prevent it from stalling, since the car had to start moving in a higher gear.^[20] Because the team's fuel man hurried to add the gasoline during the quick stop, he did not add the desired amount into the tank.^[20] As a result, Kulwicki had to conserve fuel to ensure that his car was still running at the end of the race.^[20] Elliott won the race and Kulwicki stretched his fuel to finish second.^[47] Kulwicki won the 1992 Winston Cup Championship by maintaining his 10-point lead over Elliott.^[3] He celebrated the championship with his second Polish Victory Lap.^[51] Always conscious of his appearance for potential sponsors, Kulwicki combed his hair, making a national television audience wait for him to emerge from his car.^[52]

1992 NASCAR owner's championship trophy

Kulwicki had overcome the 278-point deficit in the final six races of the season by ending with a fifth, a fourth, and two second-place finishes.^[23] Kulwicki won the championship because of his consistent high finishes.^[43] It was the closest title win in NASCAR Cup Series history until the implementation of the Chase for the Cup format in 2004.^[48] The championship was noteworthy for other reasons: Kulwicki was the last owner/driver to win the title for nearly two decades,^[53] the first Cup champion with a college degree,^[24] and the first Cup champion born in a Northern state.^[24] The song that played during a short salute to Kulwicki at the year-end awards banquet was Frank Sinatra's "My Way".^[1] During the prep work for the banquet, Elvis' version of "My Way" was found, but Alan insisted on Frank Sinatra's version.

Alan was also noted for being pretty picky!

Another tradition he started was the Polish Victory Lap. After he won a race, he'd cruise around the track backwards, so he could see the crowd and wave, and they could see him. After his death, several of his peers honored him by doing the same when they won, including Dale Earnhardt and Rusty Wallace.

I was a Dale Earnhardt fan back then, through and through. I think I was rooting for Davey Allison to win the championship, but when he had to drop out, I just sat back and enjoyed the race, watching how Kulwicki and his crew chief  Paul Andrews work out the strategy that won them the points necessary to defeat Bill Elliot. Awesome Bill from Dawsonville had won a bunch already, so it seemed to me only fair that the Underbirds should have a shot.

The whole thing was pretty cool because no owner/driver had won the thing in many, many years. We all knew we'd seen history being made, and it was quite a shock when Alan and his mates were killed. What a loss......

And as a side note, Hooter's is still involved by sponsoring their own racing series. They just couldn't bring themselves to sponsor a car in NASCAR's higher echelon. They tried, but found no happiness. They were never to have a relationship like they had with Alan. He was truly one of a kind, and the world is a lesser place without him.

Crime Wave!

My little home town has seen it's share of historical crime - shootouts and such - mostly battling it out for the county seat with nearby Ingalls. The Santa Fe Trail ran right by, lots of Indian action in the area, and in more modern times, the Clutters were murdered in Holcomb about an hour away. We've had to deal with a drug problem - meth labs and such, and other recreational drugs can be found.

But we ain't never seen nuttin' like this:

Wasn't me. I swear.

(CIMARRON, Kan.)—

Authorities are looking for a man who robbed a bank in Cimarron Monday.  The robbery happened around 11:40 at the Credit Union of Dodge  City on Main Street in Cimarron.Police say the suspect showed a gun inside the bank and left with an undisclosed amount of cash.  No one was injured during the robbery.The suspect is described as a white male, about 5'10" with a medium build.  He was wearing dark colored plastic sunglasses, a fake beard that covered most of his face and a hooded sweatshirt.The Gray County Sherriff's Office, the KBI and the FBI are asking anyone with any information to contact law enforcement at 620-855-3916.

Bank in this case means the Credit Union. You can imagine how stirred up Facebook is now. Hope "they" catch the SOB - we don't care for this sort of thing in our town, and won't stand for it.