Baboon Pirates

Scribbles and Scrawls from an unrepentant swashbuckling primate.

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Location: Texas, United States

Friday, July 31, 2009

Weekend Caption Contest!!

Share Your Wit Or Be A Twit

Time once again for a caption contest. Winner gets... well, something. I'll figure it out later.

Here's the pic:

My entry:


Thanks, Doc! You ever serve time?

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Forty One

Halfway To Eighty Two!

Some facts about 41:

In World History:

The age of El Capitan as of today, July 30, 2009.

In mathematics:

Forty-one is the 13th smallest prime number. The next is forty-three, with which it comprises a twin prime. It is also the sum of the first six prime numbers (2 + 3 + 5 + 7 + 11 + 13), and the sum of three primes (11 + 13 + 17).

Forty-one is also the 12th supersingular prime, a Sophie Germain prime and a Newman-Shanks-Williams prime. 41 is the smallest Sophie Germain prime to start a Cunningham chain of the first kind of three terms, {41, 83, 167}. It is an Eisenstein prime, with no imaginary part and real part of the form 3n − 1. 41 is a Proth prime as it is 5 × 23 + 1.

The number figures in the polynomial f(n) = n2 + n + 41, which yields primes for -40 ≤ n < 40.

Forty-one is the sum of two squares, 42 + 52. Adding up the sums of divisors for 1 through 7 yields 41.

It is a centered square number.

In science:

The atomic number of niobium.

In astronomy:

Messier object M41, a magnitude 5.0 open cluster in the constellation Canis Major.
The New General Catalogue object NGC 41, a spiral galaxy in the constellation Pegasus.
The Saros number of the solar eclipse series which began on May 28, 1588 BC and ended on July 5, 308 BC. The duration of Saros series 41 was 1280.1 years, and it contained 72 solar eclipses.
The Saros number of the lunar eclipse series which began on March 18, 1268 BC and ended on May 6 AD 30. The duration of Saros series 41 was 1298.1 years, and it contained 73 lunar eclipses.

In music:

The number of the last symphony of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (note: '37' is not in the canon).
"#41", a song by Dave Matthews Band.
The band Sum 41.
The number of times Paul McCartney sings the phrase "Let It Be" in the Beatles #1 hit Let It Be (song).

In literature:

A number frequently referred to in Arthur C. Clarke's series of books known as the Rama Cycle. Michael O'Toole's password for the Trinity operation is heavily encoded with the number 41. Also the virus that exists on New Eden is known as RV-41.

In film:

The name of an independent documentary about Nicholas O'Neill, the youngest victim of the Station nightclub fire.
Charlton Heston's designation as a galley slave in the film Ben-Hur.
The code number given to Tetsuo Shima by scientists in the manga and 1988 film Akira.
Jonathan Pryce's destination level for his apartment in Terry Gilliam's Brazil.
Billy Cole's jersey number in the Tony Scott film The Last Boy Scout.
In the feature film The Matrix, Morpheus is aggressively questioned in the 41st floor of the government building, in reference to the murder of Amadou Diallo.
The victim number that appears on Dr. Lucy Lynskey's forehead in the Peter Jackson film The Frighteners.
The precinct number that appears on the NYC police car in the film Ghostbusters during the earthquake moment of the film's climax.

In sports:

The retired number of the back of the uniform worn by Hall of Famers Tom Seaver of the New York Mets and by Eddie Mathews of the Atlanta Braves.
Worn by and retired for Brian Piccolo, running back for the Chicago Bears. Died June 16, 1970 of embryonal cell carcinoma.

In religion:

In Christianity, 41 represents the 39 lashes Jesus received before the crucifixion, plus one for the spear in his side, plus one for the crown of thorns.

In other fields:

The model number of the HP-41C/CV/CX.
The international direct dialing (IDD) code for Switzerland.
C-41 process is the film developing process for 35mm color negative film.
George W. Bush's nickname for his father, George H. W. Bush, the 41st President of the United States.
Montana is the 41st state of the United States.
In the 1994 arcade game Daytona USA, the player racing team, Team Hornet, has a race number of 41. It is also continued in the 1998 arcade game Daytona USA 2, where it is applied to three more player cars. The number 41 does not appear on the player cars on linked cabinets for both games.
In Mexico "cuarenta y uno" (41) is slang referring to a homosexual. This is due to the 1901 arrest of 41 homosexuals at a hotel in Mexico City during the government of Porfirio Díaz (1876-1911).
Municipal Okrug #41, name of Konstantinovskoye Municipal Okrug of Krasnoselsky District of Saint Petersburg, Russia, before 2008
The number of the French department Loir-et-Cher.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

The Natural Laxative!

The Organic, Holistic Path To Natural Bowel Cleansing!

So, a high-fiber diet got you a bit constipooted?

There you sit, brokenheated... Came to shit and only farted?

One too many slices of extra-cheese pizza and a heaping bowl of Grapenuts, and now your colon feels like the Hoover Dam?

Relax!! At HamFisted Plumbing, Dental Supply and Homeopathic Health Spa, we have the solution you need!

For just $49.99, you can try our patented "SmallBore" method for fast relief from temporarily blocked bowels! We'll ship you a specially trained rodent to bore through the blockage, and set you on the Road To Recovery!

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No experience with colon-boring rodents up your balloon knot? No worries!

First, remove the hamster from the sterile enclosure and cup it gently in your palm. (Illustrated below)

Slather a heaping handful of the enclosed 'BaconLube' over the hamster and your bunghole. Be sure to get a pinky's worth up the poopchute just to help "grease the skids"!

Next, insert the hamster gently up your bunghole, and allow its natural homing instinct to guide itself through your blockage, boring a large passage through the bolus, and breaking up the compacted fecal material!

Natural peristaltic action should bring both the hamster and the dislodged fecal material out the usual exit portal.

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Monday, July 27, 2009

A Royal Guy

More Photoshop Phunnies

Behold! The Emperor GuyK of Florida, with the Royal PoodleDog "Don't, Goddammit!" aka Little Sister.

The Emperor naps the afternoon away, guarded by elite soldiers of the Imperial Guard, Pith Helmet Division.

(Clicky-pic to embiggify!)

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Be Prepared!

Another Win For The Rainmakers!

Boy Scout Troop 642 has had its share of critics over the years.

"It's run like the military..."

"It's too strict..."

"They spend too much time on drills and not enough on having fun..."

Sometimes there's a point to learning the basics of Scouting until they're second nature...

From yesterday's Houston Chronicle:
Houston Scouts help get ill leader to safety
July 25, 2009, 10:42AM

A group of Houston Boy Scouts made heroic efforts to carry their Scoutmaster down a mountain after he became seriously ill in the Colorado wilderness, officials said.

Donald Leever, 58, a Houston dentist, remains in fair condition at Mercy Regional Medical Center in Durango, Colo., after a dozen Boy Scouts from Troop 642 based at Memorial Drive Presbyterian Church carried him in a makeshift basket out of the Weminuche Wilderness Area.


“Certainly, this individual's condition warranted quick action,” Knowlton said of the Scoutmaster's illness. “I believe they used their training and came together as a group of people and a group of Scouts and started making their best efforts to help their leader.”


The troop has a long history, having existed for more than 52 years and has about 75 to 125 Scouts per year. More than 400 boys have achieved the rank of Eagle in Troop 642 — one of the highest numbers in the nation, according to the troop's Web site.

I don't often blow my anonymity on this blog, but in this case I'm going to make the exception.

Troop 642 is my Scout troop. I'm one of those 400 Eagle Scouts from 642, and today I am very proud of those boys and the high standards they are still held to.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

A Poisoned Chalice?

You'd Think The Alcohol Would Kill The Bugs!

Uh oh... Something's rotten in Denmark, er... England.

Poisoned chalice? Swine flu hits church wine
LONDON, England (CNN) -- The archbishops of Canterbury and York are recommending that churches stop sharing the chalice at communion over swine flu fears, the Church of England said Thursday.

The archbishops wrote a letter to all Church of England bishops with the recommendation. It follows government advice not to share "common vessels" for food or drink so as not to spread the virus.

In the Anglican Church, worshippers commonly drink from the same chalice during communion. The chalice is wiped before the next person drinks from it.

For churches that still wish to offer both bread and wine, the archbishops recommend the priest dip communion wafers in the chalice before handing them out to those taking communion.

"The Department of Health have recently advised us that 'in a pandemic it makes good sense to take precautions to limit the spread of disease by not sharing common vessels for food and drink,'" the archbishops write in the letter.

Oh, dear... Someone's stray spittle might be carrying the swine flu bugs!

Just remember the immortal words of Danny Kaye in 'The Court Jester': (More or less...)

Hawkins: I've got it! I've got it! The spittle with the poison's in the vessel with the pestle; the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true! Right?
Griselda: Right. But there's been a change: they broke the chalice from the palace!
Hawkins: They *broke* the chalice from the palace?
Griselda: And replaced it with a flagon.
Hawkins: A flagon...?
Griselda: With the figure of a dragon.
Hawkins: Flagon with a dragon.
Griselda: Right.
Hawkins: But did you put the spittle with the poison in the vessel with the pestle?
Griselda: No! The spittle with the poison's in the flagon with the dragon! The vessel with the pestle has the brew that is true!
Hawkins: The spittle with the poison's in the flagon with the dragon; the vessel with the pestle has the brew that is true.
Griselda: Just remember that.

The Magical Helm Of Colanderia

He's Off To Kill Da Wabbit!

You never know who you're going to stumble upon while perusing the Intarwebs...

First, it was Eric.

Today, it's Elisson:

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Hers & His T-Shirts

Some Days, I'm Just Full Of Good Manners!

Cor Blimey! A Brit Appeareth!

One Day, I'll Explain The Concept Of "Runting".

Well, I'll be hornswoggled!

Actually, I have no idea what sort of activity is called for in a case of hornswoggling. I can only hope that it involves someone attractive, nubile and extremely female swoggling my horn, and not anything involving actual horns, wogs, ling, or any combination thereof.

I digress...

I just got an email from an old friend that I haven't heard from in quite some time. The Limey Bastard was one of my closest friends in college. He left the Dallas/Ft. Worth area to return to his home state of New Mexico quite some time ago. Actually, his home state is Old Blighty, Jollye Olde Englande, the Cambridge area, if memory serves, but he's been living in Eastern New Mexico for years.

In college, we were co-hosts for some of the most depraved parties Arlington, TX has ever seen. We also served on Student Congress for many semesters, along with the Connecticut Yankee, and brought a much-needed dose of levity and surrealism to that pompous pack of weasels. We drove the administration apeshit by mounting protests over mostly inconsequential matters, and dished out a heaping helping of merry pranksterism where it was sorely needed.

The last time I laid eyes on the Limey Bastard was in either 2000 or 2001, when I was returning to D/FW from a business trip to Silver City, NM. He was holed up in a rambling old house in Clovis, and hosted a party to welcome me. It was quite a bash, and amped up once I donated the contents of my mobile bar. In retrospect, that might have been a mistake. I have fuzzy memories of some highly irate parent arriving in the wee hours of the moring to carry her remarkably inebriated (and seriously underage) daughter out to the car. I also seem to recall there was another drunk young lady quite eager to show a traveling stranger her attributes, but my Skank-o-meter alarm was going off and being completely bereft of penile ponchos, chose to remain celibate that evening.

The drive home to Dallas the next morning was one of the worst road trips, ever. By the time I hit the Texas border, I had mostly quit randomly wobbling from lane to lane. When I hit Muleshoe, I had to pull over and pour a gallon of water on my head & neck to keep from dry-heaving. Adding insult to injury was the rising sun in my face blinding my already bloodshot eyes until I hit Lubbock.

Most of our communication in recent years has been an email every year or so, and I'd search the web for "Limey Bastard" (OK, his real name) in New Mexico, and send an Xmas card in hopes it would hit the right household. He married into a pre-fab family, and as the bachelors out there know, once your friends get hitched, they get sucked into another world, one where there's not always the bandwidth available to maintain your previous social life.

Anyway, the Limey Bastard emailed to let me know he's alive and well, which pleases me greatly. I'll have to find out the next time Connecticut Yankee heads to Texas to see his parents, and see if we can't arrange a little get-together up in Dallas. We can even afford bail money these days!

Monday, July 20, 2009

Grace Vs. The Mob Of Cows

If Only That Worked On Politicians...

My niece Gracie points her Finger Of Bovine Control, and the mob of cows halts a safe distance away!

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Harmonious Resonance

What Once Was Coincidence Is Now Customary

I'm not gonna go all Art Bell 'Coast To Coast AM' woo-woo on you, but there's things in the blogosphere that are just way out there, man!

Take tonight, for instance. I had the urge to listen to my all-time favorite Jimmy Buffett tune, "The Wino & I Know". My CD was out in the truck, and for whatever reason, I lack it on .mp3 at the moment.

So, I cue it up on YouTube, and as is my wont, I peruse the comments as I listen and sing along.

I happen across this comment quoting from the song:
.. "cause I'm livin' on things that excite me.... be they pastry, lobster, or love....

....... "I'm just trying to get by being quiet and shy in a world full of pushing and shove.."..

.... word.... that is absolutely beautiful......... beautiful.....

Recognize all those pseudo-ellipses? I did too...

Seems the Straight White Guy had been there before me. What are the odds of that?

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Mandatory Staycation

If I Had A Horse, Vampire Bats Would Eat It.

I must have been an absolute prick in a former life.

I can't think of another reason that karma keeps shoving misfortune up my poop chute.

I go to work when I'm supposed to, and don't call in sick unless I'm actually sick. I pay my taxes, don't skip out on jury duty, and donate to charities. I change my oil regularly, take multivitamins, don't drink to excess and even write thank-you letters upon occasion.

So, why can't I just, for once, drive a vehicle that's not a complete piece of shit?

They all start out OK. The Dodge Ram, the Caddy, the VW. All wonderful cars, for the first few months. Then, the gremlins arrive and commence to wreaking havoc.

The latest round of repairs to the F150 had my regular mechanic throwing in the towel. Apparently Ford, in its infinite wisdom, went to an ignition coil mounted on each plug, instead of a single coil and a distributor. Three of the coils seem to be wonky, and according to the mechanic, they're impossible to remove without dismantling the engine.

I was really trying to avoid going to the Ford dealership with this... It's cheaper to hire a top-rung prostitute by the hour than to pay their labor charges. At least with the prostitute, I'd enjoy getting screwed...

So, chained to Houston once more, until I save the shekels to pay Ford's freight.

Have fun at the Blownstar Blogfest, those of you smart enough to acquire reliable transportation. I'll still be sitting here, puttering around town on a random number of firing cylinders, going no faster than 35 mph for the foreseeable future.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Looking For Mr. Goodwrench

Someone Please Pass The Valium!

I'm supposed to depart for the Blownstar Blogfest tomorrow noonish. It's now 3:30 on Wednesday, and my truck is still over at the mechanic's, and so far there's no word.

I'm completely unprepared to leave. Haven't given a thought to packing, and fortunately I've got a good supply of booze already. No idea where my camera is, and I'm sure I've got laundry to do.

I'm also getting hammered by Mom to drive over to San Marcos Saturday for Gracie's 2nd birthday. Assuming I'm either in Bandera/Kerrville, it's not a long drive, but who knows if my BAC level will permit a day trip? I hate to miss out on any of the blogmeet, but Gracie is an awfully cute niece.

Stress levels are peaking... It'd be really welcome for the dice to roll my way for once.

The Eternal Question

Gingham Halter Tops Or Sequined Gowns?

So, Ginger or Mary Ann?

Thought so...

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Seek You The Wise Woman?

Tuesdays Are Taco Night At The Supreme Court Cafeteria!!

With the SCOTUS confirmation hearings in full swing for Sonia Sotomayor (the wise Latina full of rich life experiences, much more so than some pinche gringo), I thought I'd treat you to my favorite representation of a wise woman, courtesy of Edmund Blackadder.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Monday Photo Phunnies

'Cause Almost Everything's Amusing This Early In The A.M.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Birds Of A Feather?

I'd Twitter This, But My Tweeter's Broken...

Friday, July 10, 2009

Mmmm... Burger!

OK, This IS Ridiculous...

Forgot to go eat lunch today. I think I'll have one of these for dinner!

(Click pic to embiggify!)

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Yankee, Go Home!

Gotdam Carpetbaggers...

Man, it's like 1982 all over again...

There's a flood of cars with out-of-state plates roaming around Houston recently. With most of the Rust Belt & the Northeast's economy in shambles, the pore & starvin' head south looking for work, just like in the Reagan era. Fortunately, there's a big desert that's filtering out most of the Californians heading this way. Most of them stop in Phoenix or Denver, and the few that get through usually stop in Austin, where they immediately contribute to the 'Keep Austin Weird' campaign.

Unlike the Yankee exodus of the early 80's, though, there is no Housing or Oil Boom going on in Houston. We're not doing too badly, but there's not a lot of surplus cash hanging around. The threat of Cap & Trade has the petrochemical industry pulling in their tentacles and weighing their options, and The One's national health care plan has the insurance and medical industry worried.

You can still get manual labor done fairly cheaply, which doesn't bode well for any unskilled workers heading south. All over town there's a surplus of illegal aliens undocumented workers waiting on streetcorners for a shot at roofing houses or mowing lawns for sub-minimum wages.

You can still get a job in food service. Most of the teenagers that used to take the entry-level fast food jobs now mostly hang out in malls, listening to iPods and trading STD's. Unlike the construction and landscaping jobs, the fast-food corporations still check for green cards and SSN's before they let you put on the smock and paper hat and slop out the grub.

I think we need to work out a trade. For every Yankee that crosses the Red River and stays more than a week, we get to ship an unemployed Katrina evacuee up to Jersey City or Detroit.

Monday, July 06, 2009

Weiner Dog Envy

I Like The Long, Skinny Fuzzy Ones!

I got to spend some time Saturday with a long hairy weiner! I stroked and fondled it! It climbed up my leg!

OK, it was a long-haired dachshund, if you want to be precise about it. It belonged to one of the Cisco Kid's neighbors, who brought it along to the BBQ/poker party.

I've always wanted to own a dachshund or two. Maybe three. This guy has a fine example of the smooth-haired weenie dog, but I'm inclined towards the long-haired variety.

Dogs are a lot more work than cats, though, and I'm definitely the lazy type. I don't know how much of a dog-walker I'd be, and I hate the thought of a backyard full of doggybutt landmines.

It's a moot point as long as the cats are around. They're too old to have to put up with weenie dog pups gnawing at their tails and chasing them through the house. The cats couldn't even escape under the beds or couches! Weenie dogs are engineered to dive right under there after them!

Oh, well, maybe in a few years...

Sunday, July 05, 2009

Lazy Sunday

You'll Do Nothing And Like It!!!

This is about the time on Sunday evening when I get really annoyed with myself that I didn't get up and do something.

Then I reflect on the fact that it's 100+ degrees outside, and it's not like I do my own yardwork anyway...

So a lazy day spent either reading, webcrawling, napping or annoying my cats.

Last night was fun, capping off a day spent at the Cisco Kid's place eating BBQ, playing poker & Xbox, and consuming many frozen margaritas. I managed to break even on the poker, usually I drop several dollars.

Cisco Kid's neighbors came by with food & booze, and, as they say, a good time was had by all! Wish I had neighbors like that...

The sun's on its way down now. When it dips below my neighbor's rooftop, I'll sneak out and go find a taco or two!

Hope y'all had a happy 4th of July!

Friday, July 03, 2009

Unexpected Visitor

Friday Morning Follies

So, I'm sitting here on the computer futzing around, when a tabby cat meows at me from the hallway.

I don't own a tabby cat...

Tabby cat stands there staring at me when I ask "Who are you, and why are you in my house??"

Tabby cat then saunters down the hallway, squeezes through a almost-shut door into the back bedroom, and disappears. I have no clue where it went.

Note to self: Check the seal on the plastic sheeting that's on the gigantic hole on the back of the house...

Note to readers: Gigantic hole on the back of the house is a temporary arrangement to get a new (and somewhat oversized) claw-foot bathtub from the outside of the house to the inside of the house.

Note to Tabby cat: Keep Out!!

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

Freaky Monkey

More Weird $h!t Found On YouTube!

Sometimes you see something that just tweaks your interest, and you get kind of fixated...

Rorschach sent me a link to this video, and I've probably watched it a dozen times so far. It's a Brit ventriloquist named Nina Conti and her puppet "Monk".

OK, I'll admit, the pretty smile and huge... eyes... held my attention for a couple of viewings, but there's something else there that makes this woman very intriguing. Not so much as a ventriloquist, she's good but not great in that regard, though she wisely incorporates her errors into the act. It's the unusual sense of humor and daring approach to comedy that I like. She's not afraid to get her freak on in public, and that's really rare for a female comedian. The bits about "But it's so deconstructive!" and "I am the monkey!" had me giggling.

Unfortunately, she doesn't seem to have a lot of material on tap. A quick search on YouTube has material going back a few years, and they're largely the same group of gags.

Give it a watch! "And you're all a bit freaked out now, aren't ya??" LOL!!