A Foray Into Partisan Politics

I Still Think McCain Is A Grumpy Butthead...

OK, I double-pinky swearz to you I'm jumping on board the McCain/Palin bandwagon because of Sarah Palin's politics! Her politics, I tell you!

Politics, of course, being the new slang term for smokin' hot legs...



Also, I might redecorate this here crib for the next 66 days. Those who despair of me ever updating my sidebar, rest assured I still know how to locate my template screen!

While these first two banners amuse me greatly, I'll probably go with a more sedate choice in my sidebar.







First two pics found at Tam's place & Sharp As A Marble, the last one at McCain HQ...

Slow March Of The Yellow Peril

Wish You Could Bottle This Crap & Sell It As Glue...

What is it with me & holidays? Every time a day off of work rolls around, some part of my anatomy decides to crap out and sideline me for the duration!

I picked up a case of the Creeping Yellow Crud last week. Started off slow, just a tickle in the throat and a sniffle every so often.

As of dawn today, it's progressed to a sore throat, wads of sinusbutter being horked up regularly. and most interesting of all, a new vector of drainage, a constant stream of goo from my left tear duct. It's not so bad while I'm awake, but after a couple of hours of fitful sleep, you wake up with that eye almost glued shut.

No fever to speak of or phlegm rattling in the lungs, which are the usual "Go see a doctor" triggers. No doubt that's probably in my future, right about the time our friend Gustave dumps 17 inches of rain on the roads.

Well, time for more Gatorade. More later, perhaps.

Friday Night Fight!

I Should Be Out Stalking Llamas Or Something

Ok, I got no real content, so here's the question...

In a no-holds-barred grudge match, who comes out on top?

The Armadillo, or the Echidna??

Zee Svedeesh Mooser!

Bork Bork Bork!!!

Oon seeghting a muuse-a in zee deep vuuds dooreeng hoonteeng seesun:

Furst, yuoo unsleeng yuoor reeffle-a. Next, yuoo get oooot sume-a certreedges, 6.5 x 55mm is zee prefferred lued fur a Svedeesh Mooser! Zeen, yuoo oopee zee bult ooff zee reeffle-a, und stooffff 5 certreedges in zee megezeene-a. Yuoo cluse-a zee bult, luedeeng zee furst ruoond, zeen settle-a in tu get yuoor seeghts oon terget. Leene-a up oon zee muuse-a, zeen du nut pooll zee treegger. Insteed, velk oofer tu zee muuse-a, und stert smeereeng it frum huuff tu untler in chuculete-a sooce-a. Effter ell, zeere-a's nutheeng better thun chuculete-a muuse-a!

OK, that bit was run through the Encheferizer, a web gadget that translates what you write into something said by the Swedish Chef from The Muppet Show. Here's the translation...

On sighting a moose in the deep woods during hunting season:

First, you unsling your rifle. Next, you get out some cartridges, 6.5 x 55 mm is the preferred load for a Swedish Mauser! Then, you open the bolt of the rifle, and stuff 5 cartridges in the magazine. You close the bolt, loading the first round, then settle in to get your sights on target. Line up on the moose, then do not pull the trigger. Instead, walk over to the moose, and start smearing it from hoof to antler in chocolate sauce. After all, there's nothing better than chocolate moose!

Why the sudden detour into things Sveedish?

'Cause I saw this beauty at Collector's Firearms yesterday:





Mmmmm, that lovely blonde wood stock! Ain't much prettier than a 96 year old Swedish blonde!

The Case Of The Elusive Case

I Probably Ought To Just Drink Tapwater...

Curses! Foiled again!

I thought I finally had a line on a place to buy some cases of bottled beverages. Specifically, 20 ounce bottles of Coke Zero and Nestea Diet Iced Tea W/ Lemon in case-sized lots.

Oh, the other requirement... Not paying retail prices.

I'd had no luck at grocery stores. Sure, I could load up a shopping cart with the Coke Zero in 6 packs, but paying full fare blew that deal.

The Nestea is almost impossible to find, even as single bottles. Convenience stores sometimes stock it, but mostly it's the sugared versions.

You can get 82 varieties of fizzy sugar water and 58 kinds of energy drinks. Looking for a non-carbonated diet drink? It's like trying to find fur on a frog...

No luck in the local Sam's or Costco, either.

I located a wholesaler that sold to the general public not too far off my path to work. I took advantage of my boss being at a conference this morning to delay my arrival at work until I could stop in and see what they carried.

No dice on the tea, but I thought I had the Coke Zero nailed down. After the sales guy had run my debit card through the machine, his flunky came out of the back shrugging his shoulders and saying "Lo siento, gabacho! No ees Coke Cero en veinte onza botellas!"

So, I got a cash refund and hustled in to work, getting there just minutes before the boss did.

The local Coke distributor won't sell to me, due to lack of sales tax permit and orders of less than 20 cases.

So, if you have a line on case lots of either Coke Zero or the pictured beverage below in case lots at around 60-90 cents per bottle in Houston, TX, please email me!

Sleeping On The Couch

More Drama Than I Want In My Home...

Got locked out of my bedroom last night.

I wish I could say it was due to a tiff with a significant other, followed up by hours of hot monkey-lovin' after the make-up.

Alas, the two females inhabiting my bed lately both have 4 legs, tails, and bodacious sets of whiskers. Oh, and they can lick their own nasty bits. In a human female, that might be a huge plus. In a cat? Not so much...

No, I was excluded from the bedchamber by a pile of cardboard. I'd put a stack of unassembled file boxes next to my closet, and on a trip to the kitchen to refill my tea, the boxes decided to fall over, latching the door shut and wedging themselves between the door and the TV console.

I'm used to having the A/C air pressure suck the door shut on occasion, but it never locks the door... I'm sitting there in the hallway trying to get my door open, and for the life of me, can't understand WTF is going on.

I finally gave up, and crashed on the couch for a while. Betsy Cat started squalling about 3 a.m., though, and the thought of her crapping on my bed out of frustration forced me to get up and deal with the door.

I figured out what happened when I poked a flashlight under the door and saw the stack of boxes. It took a set of BBQ tools to rectify the situation. The long-handled knife slit open the plastic packaging on the file boxes, and the long-handled fork worked great to stab one box at a time, and slide it out from under the stack and under the gap at the base of the door. Eventually I got enough boxes out that I could shove the rest out of the way, at which point Betsy Cat squirted out the gap and made a beeline for the litterbox.

I'm not sure what I would have done if it had been something more substantial blocking the door. The hinges are on the bedroom side, so dismounting the door wasn't an option. I guess I would have had to break the bedroom window and crawl in that way.

Y'know, I'll bet anything that cat was scratching at that stack of boxes and made it fall over... It's be just like that fuzzball to do something like that.

The Eternal Question

OK, It's An Old Joke... Whaddya Expect On A Monday?

If you had to choose one, which would it be?



...OR...

Does D-Con Make Crab Spray?

A Fictional Fable Concerning Outsized Arthropods

...so, there we were on vacation on the tropical island of Guam... Shackin' up in a timeshare, drinkin' rum...

Went out to take out the trash, and there was this enormous crustacean from the Paleozoic hangin' off the garbage can...

I said "DAMN!" and went & got a broom. That enormous crustacean from the Paleozoic tore it up into chopsticks and farted in my general direction.

I said "HEY, you got-damned crustacean! I need to throw away these rum bottles! Get the hell off that trashcan!"

The enormous crustacean said "Well, I'll be needin' some compensation for my trouble."

I said "What kind of tariff are we talkin' about here?"

The enormous crustacean said "Well, I'm-a need about tree-fiddy."

I'm pretty sure that bastard crustacean spent it on a bottle of Night Train. Last time I ever go to Guam...

Truly Useful Body Mods

$10 Says The Hildebeest Has Her Vajayjay Pierced...

There was a list over on the List Universe on the 10 weirdest body mods. You know, things like split tongues, filed-down teeth, and jingle bells implanted in your hoo-hah.

Naturally, that got me thinking about body mods that would truly be worth having. Things that are not quite in the cyborg/bionic arena, just modifications that are somewhat do-able in this day and age.

F'rinstance...

How about a teflon-coated asscrack? Now even the messiest crap can be sparkly-clean in one quick pass of the buttwipe!

For the guys, an expandable urethra that dilates when you pee, along with a spring-loaded bladder. No more long drawn-out pissing sessions, and no more shaking the last few drops out. Nope, you aim, relax and WHAM! One quart of pee hammers out in an instant, completely emptying your bladder. Imagine the piss-shiver on that one...

Or maybe a flip-up nose, for those days when you're tired of digging for that booger that's glued way back toward your sinuses, and is making that damned whistling sound every time you breathe!

Some people might like to have their toenails deactivated. Actually, *I* would like to see certain people have their toenails deactivated. There's some scary-ass talons growing on the feetses out there. We manage to de-horn cattle to keep their horns from growing. Horn and toenails are both made of keratin, so there's gotta be a similar method.

Perhaps something mechanical? A bit-driver socket installed in a thumb would be pretty darn useful. You could keep a few screwdriver and hexdriver bits stored in a sub-dermal pouch, and never have to go hunting for a screwdriver again.

I've heard of magnets implanted under the skin for eyeglasses to cling to, eliminating the earpiece. Dunno how reliable that is, though.

What body mods would you be willing to have done?

Tactical Tommy Strikes Again

This Must Be What Tam Calls A "Blastomatic"

I've groused before about the idiotic things that gunmakers and those who sell related shooting paraphernalia do to make their products "tactical".

You can't hardly buy a base-level shotgun anymore without there being a "breaching muzzle" glued on the end of the barrel. I never knew there was such a need to be blasting out door hinges and locks. We managed just fine the last century and a half with nothing more than a choke tube out at the business end of a scattergun. Hell, as far as I'm concerned, going from paper to plastic hulls was the last really innovative & necessary step taken in shotgun technology. OK, maybe ghost ring sights, too...

So, WTF is that stupid thing out on the end of a new Mossberg 500? Looks like it came off a flamethrower...



That wasn't sufficiently tactical, either. They went and put a Picatinny rail on the underside so you could mount your FusionGlow 5000 Tactical Illuminating Device, and still leave room for the collapsible bipod.

Why would you want a bipod on a shotgun? C'mon, dude! It's Tacticool! And if you don't know why you need one, you're obviously not one of The Only Ones Qualified to carry such hardware.

Now, let's talk about that asinine strip of nylon bolted to the fore end. You know why that's there? 'Cause too many Mall Ninjas were pumping their shotguns like they were jerkin' their gherkin, and having the shotgun slip out of their grasp and blow holes in their basement ceilings. Aside from being blasphemous to Ceiling Cat, it annoys the neighbors.

Seriously, the nonadjustable strap is too loose for a good snug fit around your hand, and too small to use as a carry device. Absolutely effin' useless, just like that charcoal briquet starter they've bolted to the muzzle.

Just say NO to tacticool, folks. It's perfectly acceptable to be a shooting enthusiast and not aspire to be like the Alphabet Agency's jack Danner-booted thugs.

Farewell To The Shogun!

When I Say, "Who's Da Mastah?" You Say, "Sho'nuff!"



Sho'nuff: Am I the meanest?

Sho'nuff 's Goons: Sho'nuff!

Sho'nuff: Am I the prettiest?

Sho'nuff 's Goons: Sho'nuff!

Sho'nuff: Am I the baddest mofo low down around this town?

Sho'nuff 's Goons: Sho'nuff!


It is with deepest regrets that I announce the passing of Julius Carry, a talented character actor who appeared in countless TV episodes, but who will be forever immortalized as Sho'nuff, the Shogun of Harlem, in the 1985 movie 'The Last Dragon'.

'The Last Dragon' is one of my all-time favorite craptastic movies, a flick so lame it achieves long-lasting fame...

Sayonara, Shogun! You've got The Glow for all eternity!

Full Service, Kruger Park Style!

With AAA Plus, Rhinos Will Tow Your Land Rover Back To Camp!

Wow... That's Convincing!

It's All In Knowing Which Buttons To Push...

I heard a radio ad yesterday for a guy named Faulk that's running for Congress as a Republican in the 18th Congressional District.

I don't think he's got a snowball's chance in hell of winning in that heavily gerrymandered district, but I'm going to send him a few dollars based solely on his ad campaign.

See, the Texas 18th Congressional District is the stomping grounds of Queen Sheila aka Sheila Jackson Lee aka the Mouth of the South. She has inflicted herself with her imperial attitude and radical leftist agenda on the 18th District for years, and her trademark political maneuver is that she never fails to insert herself into the scene whenever a TV camera is rolling. You've probably seen her race down the aisle to be the first in line to greet Bush whenever he addresses Congress.

Indeed, it's said that the most dangerous place to be in America is in between Queen Sheila and the TV camera. No telling how many people have been steamrolled over the years for making that mistake.

Faulk's ad asks the simple question about donating to his campaign.

"How much is it worth to you to never see Sheila Jackson Lee on TV again?"

Man, I nearly burned a hole in my checkbook with the speed I wrote that donation check...

Things I Wouldn't Eat On A Dare

This Sort Of Explains German Schieße Films...

I really shouldn't be mocking weird German wursts, when I eat as many chilidogs as I do. It's common knowledge that hot dogs are composed mainly of bovine lips and assholes, and whatever other odd bits of flesh litter the abbatoir floor before being chucked into the meatgrinder.

Still, the application of chili cures most ills, and we at least have the common decency to grind up our offal into an inoffensive meat paste before stuffing it into lengths of intestine for curing.

Zee Churmans? Not so much...

From Wikipedia:

Blood Tongue or Zungenwurst is a variety of German blood sausage. It is a large link sausage that is made with pig's blood, suet, bread crumbs and oatmeal with chunks of pickled pig's tongue added. It is commonly sliced and browned in butter or bacon fat prior to consumption. It is sold in markets pre-cooked and its appearance is maroon to black in color.

It is also sold in some delis as a cold cut.

Excuse me while I go dry heave for a while...

Cats Are So Weird...

A Caturday Special Edition

I hadn't done a cat post in so long, the catblogging community was about to send out the nastygrams for non-compliance, and revoke my litter cred. The tension is out there, man! I can feel it!

OK, so here's Pookie Cat perched on the back of a chair. I can recommend chair backs as cat perches only if they are of the big, stable overstuffed variety.

Small office chairs that can rotate? Not so much... Pookie learned a valuable lesson in the application of Delta-V and centripetal force about 5 seconds after I snapped this shot!

A Long Sad Happy Day

NEWS FLASH: El Capitan Enters A Church, Does Not Burst Into Flames!

The family said goodbye to my Aunt Mary yesterday. She had passed earlier in the week from complications from Alzheimer's, and from just simply being pretty darned old. She went peacefully in her sleep, for which we are thankful. It was not unexpected, her whole family was in attendance, and we were spared the shock of a sudden death in the family.

She was the oldest female on Mom's side of the family, taking over as the reigning matriarch when my grandmother died 6 years ago. That slot now passes to either my great-Aunt Lorraine or one of the west Texas collection of LOLs. (Little Old Ladies) I suppose we'll have to have a Ultimate Fighting cage match to determine which LOL gets to call the family meeting to order. Man, they're vicious with those hat pins...

It turned out to be an all-day affair. First, the pre-funeral family meet-up, then the church lobby meet & greet, then the pre-game huddle with the Sky Pilot, followed by the Parade of Family into the church sanctuary.

It was a fairly typical service. Amazing Grace, the 23rd Psalm, a few hymns, the usual. In a nod to the family's Caledonian heritage, the recessional was 'Scotland the Brave'. If you can't have that played on a herd of bagpipes, I'm here to tell you that hearing it thunder through a pipe organ is an acceptable substitute!

Afterwards we did a post-service reception, and spent a couple of hours catching up with all the family members that you only see at weddings and funerals. Aunt Mary was a gracious soul, and even if you weren't officially family, you were always welcome in her home. So, we saw a bunch of ex-husbands and ex-wives who came to pay their respects, along with stepchildren and other assorted folks that I honestly never expected to see again. Turns out that husband #1 of one of my cousins (she has had several since...) who was instrumental in teaching me to play poker and hunt deer has been working downtown not three blocks away from my office. I can't recall how much money he won from me playing cards, but that was before I learned that one of life's rules is not to play poker with guys called "Doc".

I was about worn out after the reception. Call it emotional overload, I suppose. Alas, one more gathering afterwards just for family. Several bottles of wine later, we finally broke up the party at 11 p.m.

So, a sad occasion, but much joy in seeing the family as well.

A final note: My aunt had requested that her body be donated to science after her death. My cousins chose a company called MedCure. This company handles all the arrangements, works with med schools and hospitals to ship the deceased, and following whatever procedure is done, cremates the body and returns the ashes to the family within a month, all free of charge.

If you're already contemplating cremation, you might give this some thought. You might end up doing some good, and as an added benefit, you completely bypass the vultures in the corporate funeral industry. And that makes Baby Jesus smile.

Serial Baby Killers

Another Tale Of Scholastic Assholery

There was a news article in the local fishwrapper recently about realistic infant dolls being given out to preteens in hopes of preventing pregnancies. The dolls are programmed to fuss & squall like a real baby, and the theory is that after caring for these dolls 24/7, and learning what a PITA a baby can be, the preteens will choose oral sex or handjobs as opposed to the Big Kahuna.

I was reminded of a similar scheme that was taught while I was in high school. One of the elective classes was an offshoot of Home Economics called Child Development, where students learned about caring for newborns and children.

Every semester, there was a 6 week long segment where they had to care for a "Baby". In place of today's high-tech programmable dolls, they used 5 lb. sacks of flour swaddled up to look like babies, and the students were required to carry these things everywhere. Other students and teachers were encouraged to rat the "parents" out to the Home Ec teacher if they left the "babies" laying around, and points were deducted for any mishaps.

So, for 6 weeks, these kids carried those flour sacks everywhere. And for 6 weeks, the various trolls, griefers and assholes in the student body made their lives as miserable as possible.

Some of the hyenas liked to abduct the flour sack "babies", demanding ransoms for their return. Once or twice there was a blatant infanticide, where the flour sack was gutted with a blade, or stolen and dropped off the second floor balcony that ringed the school's inner courtyard, to explode in a puff of Pillsbury.

The "parents" learned that the most important baby care device was not diapers or bottles, but a roll of adhesive tape to patch up leaks in the "baby".

If you think that I, your humble narrator, was capable of brutally murdering a flour sack, well, you're absolutely right. My favorite method was the stealth stiletto. A highly sharpened #2 pencil could be used to poke nice leaky holes in the flour bag.

I later refined the technique by borrowing a length of brazing rod from Metalshop class, and grinding the end to a needle point. That was used for the ultimate assassination job, the face-to-face perforation. During lunch hour or between classes, you'd engage the baby's "parent" in conversation, and bemoan all the violence occuring to the other flour sacks. While you're pointing out the various offenders to the victim, as they glance around and not at you, you'd be merrily sticking the flour sack repeatedly. This could also be done as a team sport, where one party distracted the "parent", while the other performed mayhem on the flour sack.

There was one or two occasions where a babykiller would be discovered in the act, and the distraught parent would pelt the offender with handfuls of the dead baby's innards.

I don't think kids can get away with this sort of thing anymore. In this day and age, a knife in school will get a kid expelled for life, and any hijinks at all seem to result in a judicious application of handcuffs, pepper spray and tasers.

Celebrity Lookalikes?

Good Night, Mrs. Calabash, Wherever You Are!

I happened upon Mr. Moose here (with a different caption) on the ICHC Lolcat site, and thought he looked a lot like a famous celebrity from years gone by. So, I recaptioned it appropriately and posted it for your viewing pleasure!





What do y'all think? Separated at birth?

Bonus points for being old enough to know who the non-antlered one is!

Giant Inflatable WHAT???

I Am In The Wrong Line Of Work...

Y'know, there's just some things you never expect to read in a news article.

High up on that list? Giant Inflatable Dog Turd.

I shit you not:

Flying piece of art causes museum chaos in Switzerland

A giant inflatable dog turd by American artist Paul McCarthy blew away from an exhibition in the garden of a Swiss museum, bringing down a power line and breaking a greenhouse window before it landed again, the museum said Monday.
The art work, titled "Complex S(expletive..)", is the size of a house. The wind carried it 200 metres (yards) from the Paul Klee Centre in Berne before it fell back to Earth in the grounds of a children's home, said museum director Juri Steiner.

Journalism has changed somewhat in the last few years. I wonder how the New York Times would have reported this. Enormous Pneumatic Canine Fecal Sculpture?

Stairway To Hell

I Would Really, Really Like A Muscle Relaxant Right Now...

Godalmighty, my thighs hurt today. I got up to go drain the lizard, and nearly had to hold on to my desk to keep from falling over...

I live in a mostly stair-free environment. I live in a one-story house, so no stairs there. Houston is on a coastal flood plain, which means no hills to speak of for miles around. My office is in a high-rise with elevators, and even healthy & fit people don't climb that many stairs. I might encounter a short flight of 3 or 4 steps going in or out of a retail establishment, but that's about it.

So, when faced with an out-of-order escalator yesterday afternoon, it didn't even occur to me to avoid it and seek an elevator. After all, it was going down!

It was one of those double-length escalators, equivalent to going up or down 3 stories. I went galumphing down, and got to the bottom no worse for wear. I did notice a slight tightness in that big front thigh muscle, but thought nothing of it.

This morning, I felt like I crawled down this set of steps:



It would probably behoove me to start seeking out some stairs every so often to keep in practice, just so I don't cripple myself going out on a social event like the theater or ball park, where stairsteps are in abundance!

Recipe Revision

Serve This Stuffed In A Baked 'Tater!

Quite some time ago I posted a recipe for Green Beans Oregano, a favorite from when I was a kid.

It was so long ago, in fact, that I'd completely forgotten about posting it and to my surprise saw my own blog in the Google search results as I was looking for the recipe this afternoon.

As luck would have it, I found a better version of the recipe. It's not foodie-grade cuisine, just your typical out-of-a-can potluck grade comida, but I still like it a lot.

Try this one out next time you have a sit-down meal!

Green Beans Oregano

Yield: 10-12 servings

Frozen green beans work fine in this recipe. Just prepare them according to package directions, and drain well.


6 c. (about 2 lbs.) fresh green beans
6 to 8 slices crisply cooked bacon
2 (10 3/4-oz.) cans condensed cream of mushroom soup
2 (3-oz.) cans sliced mushrooms, drained
1/2 (1-oz.) envelope onion soup mix
1/4 to 1/2 tsp. crushed dried oregano


Wash beans and remove strings. Cut beans into pieces, if desired. Cook beans in unsalted water, covered, until crisp-tender; drain. Place beans in a large bowl. Chop or crumble 4 or 5 slices of bacon., and add to beans, along with soup, mushrooms, onion soup mix, and oregano. Stir well, and refrigerate overnight, covered, to allow flavors to blend (very important). Bake in a 3-quart casserole, uncovered at 350 degrees for 30 to 40 minutes. Garnish with remaining bacon before serving.

Linky Love!

650 Visitors, Not One Comment. Tight-Lipped Crew There...

Here's an object lesson in what happens when someone with a significantly larger readership drops you a link:



Y'know, after almost 4 years of blogging, you'd think I'd be a bit blasé about a (Bigger Blogger)-alanche by now...

Nah, still get a thrill. It's all about the ego, my little chickadees!

Smoochas Gracias, Señorita Tamara!

Things You Never Knew You Needed...

I Bet You Could Use It To Noodle Catfish. He'll Be Pissed, Though.

Want to take a wild guess what this is?



I saw it in the latest mailout catalog from Gander Mountain. It's hunting season, and there's new toys out on the market.

Nope, it's not a tent peg. Nor is it a picket stake for horses, or a quick shore anchor for your boat.

Ladies and Gents, the item pictured is called the Butt Out® big game field dressing tool from Hunter’s Specialties.

Let me quote their sales pitch:

Cutting around and removing the anal canal on deer is a necessary step in field dressing that is difficult and potentially dangerous, often resulting in contaminated meat.

With Hunter’s Specialties Butt Out® big game field dressing tool, hunters can quickly and easily remove the anal alimentary canal on deer and deer-sized game.

Did you read that right? Deer and deer-sized game.

Y'know what else is deer-sized? PEOPLE!!!

I'm not too sure I like the idea of this device being out on the open market. Sooner or later someone's going to use it on another person with malice aforethought. You've heard of the Colombian Necktie, where they slice your throat and pull your tongue down through the hole?

Well, now you've got the Appalachian Ass Knot, where your colon is pulled out far enough to garrote you with it.

Even worse, what if some whackazoid like that Canadian Greyhound Bus murderer gets ahold of this thing? Instead of cutting off your head and eating your lips and nose, he might just pull out your bunghole and slice it up like calamari rings!!

Sigh. It used to be that the mark of an experienced outdoorsman was one who could eviscerate his downed prey without tainting the meat. Now any jagoff with a butt plug and a bread knife can clean a deer. Ah, well. The times, they are a changin'...

If you have the intestinal fortitude to watch (pun intended), you can view a video of the Butt Out® in action here.

Only In The Movies...

"Suspension Of Disbelief Set To 110%, Captain!"

I'm sure y'all have seen one of those "Only In The Movies" lists that show up in emails and web humor sites. It's got items like:

*Cars will explode instantly when struck by a single bullet.

*If being chased through a city you can usually take cover in a passing St Patrick’s Day parade - at any time of the year.

*You will survive any battle in any war UNLESS you show someone a picture of your sweetheart back home.

There's an additional "Only In The Movies" moment that bears mentioning.

Whenever there's a love interest, it usually follows the same pattern.

a) Meet cute.
b) Flirt and tease.
c) Have disagreement to build tension.
d) disagreement leads to screaming fight.
e) At height of fight, a long lingering look, then the clinch!
f) followed by much face-sucking and tongue jousting.
g) and then, the obligatory sex scene.

The sex scene is usually a montage of the two lovers schtupping all through the house, and one shot ALWAYS seems to include a bathroom or bedroom COMPLETELY STUFFED with lit candles.

All those candles burning is the "Only In The Movies" moment.

I suppose it's romantic, breathing in the fumes of 15 dozen tiny fires while you try to avoid singing your ass hairs on the candles burning on every flat surface in the room. Nothing clashes with a vanilla-cinnamon candle scent like burnt ass hair.

Let's not even comment on the clash of scents all those candles will undoubtedly produce. Probably smells like a fire caused after a tanker full of bath oil crashes into a potpourri factory.

Then, there's the time factor involved. All those candles don't light at the flick of a switch. I mean, what guy is going to sit there with a raging stiffie while a nekkid woman lights 200 candles? If you want me to wait while you pull on a skintight leather Batgirl outfit, well, I'm willing to negotiate. Otherwise, lighting more than 3 candles is wasted on me, sweetheart.

Let's suppose you do manage to get all those candles lit. Do you really think it's going to be the idyllic love scene as portrayed by Hollywood? Oh, please...

The reality is, while you're in the tub trying not to slosh all the water out and knock over the little tealight candles, in comes Barney the Dog to see what all the ruckus is. Naturally, that big whappy Lab tail knocks over a bunch of candles, spewing hot wax all over the dog, who freaks out & knocks over more candles trying to escape, catching his tail alight in the process.

Now, instead of making love in a candlelit boudoir, you and your lover are wet, naked, and chasing a flaming Labrador through the house as it sets the curtains on fire.

Yup, definitely a "Only In The Movies" moment...

Giving Good Gookie

Hey, At Least There's No Colander On My Head...

On days where I'm strapped for an idea, I can usually count on Elisson to have something fun brewing.

Today, it's the Gookie, the famous face pulled by Harpo Marx. Looks like this:


Anywho, Elisson's idea is to have a bunch of bloggers pull a Gookie, and post the results online whilst tagging other bloggers to join in the fun. Here's his Gookie: (sorta, anyway...)


I blog anonymously, and planting my phiz online ain't such a good idea. In addition to making my mug known, (more than it already is, anyway) it runs the risk of having the few remaining cathode ray tube monitors shatter upon facial impact.

So, we do the next best thing, and post a reasonable facsimile!

El Capitan:


El Capitan con mucho Gookie:


(It might be time to trim the beard & 'stache...)

OK, the tag...

Honestly, I don't know who's got cameras or the willingness to do this silly thing. OTOH, it would be highly amusing to see Nelly & her chickens do a group Gookie, Jerry & his feral barncats also do a group Gookie. Maybe also Walrilla and Running Behind doing an office Gookie, and Ms NancyFrance doing a garden Gookie just to round things out.

Essential Personnel

Essentially, I'm Sitting Here Doing Nothing

OK, it's mostly my fault. I broke Rule #1, which is NEVER EVER VOLUNTEER FOR ANYTHING!

But, I did, so here I am.

Back when Katrina & Rita blew through the neighborhood, I agreed to come in to hold the fort while all my co-workers skedaddled for higher ground. I'd hoped that I'd find myself removed from The Man's 'essential personnel' list this year, but such is not the case.

I got a call at home last night from my boss confirming that I was to report to work this morning. This morning, as I'm barely 1/2 mile from the office, I get a call on my cell phone from the Uber-Boss telling me that I'm not really needed, but since I'm so close, to come on in, change out my phone message to re-route possible callers to other Minions of The Man, and I can leave.

Oh, thank you SO much! Now that I'm here and soaked to the skin!

I could have changed the message from the house, for Pete's sake. I coulda done it last night, and slept late.

Methinks I've got item #1 on the agenda picked out for our next staff planning meeting...

Water Runs Downhill, Ya Know...

There's A Reason Houstonians Don't Have Basements!

Back in January I posted the following comment on BlogHouston regarding the spiffy new underground parking garage across the street from the George R. Brown Convention Center:

Y'all do know there's a one-acre duck pond planned for Discovery Green park that will be located directly above the parking garage, right? Also, the landscaping over the parking garage entrance will host some grassy hillsides set at a steep & unsupported angle. This should ensure that after a nice long spring rain, we'll get to see firsthand a geological event known as "slump".

Should be fun...

Now I see this in the news... (edited for length)

Leaks At The Discovery Green Garage

Yesterday Channel 13 Eyewitness News reporter Miya Shay reported that Discovery Green’s brand-new $21-million dollar parking garage leaks.

The source for her story? An unidentified City Council member who wouldn’t speak on camera “because of the sensitive nature of this issue.”

Anyway, we tried to talk with Discovery Green Park Director Guy Hagstatte but he was busy in meetings all morning, so we got hold of a representative for the park (who also wished not to be named – are we missing something here?). She assured us that the leaks, aside from the occasional plop-plop drip on the head of an unsuspecting visitor, are not a major concern for the garage and not an indication of structural damage.

“Concrete will get cracks in it and water comes through cracks. It is a common situation. Discovery Green is working to reduce the amount,” she said via e-mail.

Y'know, I hate to say "I told you so", but...

I FARKIN' TOLD YOU SO!!!

I expect a complete collapse the first time there's a heavy summer rain, and a really loud band is playing anywhere in a 10 block radius.

A Franchise Opportunity?

I'd Probably Go To 'Hooters' If It Was Called 'Ginormous Jugs'...

I drove by this sports bar while I was up in Oklahoma City. Reminded me of all the times in college when my buddy Connecticut Yankee or I would point out an especially impressive display of female rackitudinal abundance, and say "Emerson..." "Ah, yes! Emerson indeed!"

Well, as far as names for a bar go, this one doesn't carry the family-friendly cachet of "C. O. Jones" or "Big Dick's Halfway Inn". Still, it might be a fun place for the Connecticut Yankee & I to invest our pensions when we finally get too old to put up with the guvmint and/or academic pursuits.

A Matter Of Timing

I Just Can't Win...

Well, I'm certainly regretting my extravagant birthday dinner at the moment. Oh, everything worked its way out just fine, but with my usual degree of ill-timed luck, I spent the money two days too early.

This is a Smith & Wesson .44 Special revolver.



Specifically, it's a Smith & Wesson Model 24-3 with a 3" barrel, round butt and finger-groove combat grips. It's a limited edition made for Lew Horton Distributors in the mid-80's, and it's one of my Holy Grail items on my all-time gun wish list.

I first ran across this popper back when I was just barely 21. It was in a local pawn shop, and the owner had it priced like a clapped-out old .38 snubby. I seem to recall that he was asking $250-275.

At that age, it might as well have been $275 thousand. I was intermittantly employed, going to school and I was completely clueless to the fact that pawn shops would let you put items on layaway. Didn't even occur to me to ask...

Since then, this pistol (or one like it) will turn up when I'm least expecting it, and when I can least afford it. Like now, when Collector's Firearms is offering the one in the picture for sale for $700.

I just got paid today. In theory, I could go write a check and bring it home tonight. If I was still 21, I probably would.

Alas, with age comes wisdom, and with wisdom comes the realization that I still have outstanding bills and a truck to fix, and buying toys is no longer a priority.

Sigh.

Ah, well. In the unlikely event it's still on the shelf in 30 days, I'll think long & hard about the layaway process.

I knew I'd regret getting older...