Eggs!

When ya got $23.50 to live on for a week, it sure is nice to have friends with chickens.
Yay, protein! Stupid roommate. The guy just vanished. I guess I'm now the proud new owner of a 1973 Fleetwood motor home, anybody want a leaky, moldy RV that hasn't started in a year? You can jump old cars through it for redneck video clip shows...

KAYAK!

The Bobblehead Buddha approves

Back out on the water yesterday, first time this year. Forgot to take my fancy new gloves, so my arthritic fingers are paying the price today. I don't care it wuz worth it. Also forgot the camera, so no pics this time, planning on doing the river soon though.

Bike + Camera = Fun today

First flowers of Spring!
I thought it looked like a campfire sculpted in wood.
Tried about twelve shots of a family of juvenile eagles getting harassed by seagulls along the tideline, this is the only halfway decent one. These guys were HUGE.

Good ride again today.

Discovered Zoom x11 on the camera! Both pics from the same spot.

old by net standards

I just really like this guy, I guess he made it all the way to Oprah or something. fast forward to 8:00 to skip the intros.

Anybody wanna go see this?

Clicky piccy makey biggy

Good ride today

Did some driving for my friend with a sore foot, rode all over the neighborhood. Thank jebus warm weather is here, it sure is nice to be on the outside!

Nice View tonight

Finally!

From the AP,
"SINGAPORE (Feb. 12) - A cosmetics line that extolled the virtues of "Lookin' Good for Jesus" has been pulled from stores in Singapore after a number of complaints from shoppers, according to media reports Tuesday...
...Promising to "Redeem your reputation and more," the product line included a "virtuous vanilla" flavored lip balm and a "Get Tight with Christ" hand and body cream, The Straits Times said."

Henry Preaches Stentorian From the Mount

Gawddamn, I loves me sum Henry Rollins.

The Hangdogs will be my favorite band 'til I die

Hangdogs Lyrics

somewhere near heaven

Hey little girl with the angel green eyes and the face full of shadow and light
I still see you there in my arms when I wake and I wonder just what I did right
I see the soft slope of your body moonlit through the leak in the motel room blind
And now through this distance and time and travail this bed still feels empty where you used to lie

I wade through the flotsam of empire's decline
I watch ideals shatter on rich men's design
But sometimes I still feel you holding me somewhere near heaven
Just outside of time

Hey little girl I don't mean to hang on, hell, I guess I been getting along
It's just in these damn little moments of nothing I wonder just what I did wrong
I know I ain't pretty or any great find, it's just when the cogs of this life start to grind
I miss you and hope that you find something like we had
Somewhere near heaven, just outside of time

CHORUS
Yeah sometimes I still feel you holding me somewhere near heaven
Just outside of time

Don't FUCK with a Green Beret, EVER!

Once again, my slavish devotion to the Intertubes pays off.
For an anecdote of extremely high amusement value, please check out this mock court martial for the oldest Green Beret.

"Taylor, at age 80 the oldest member of Chapter XXXIII of the Special Forces Association, was on trial by his peers under the charge of failing to use a weapon of sufficient caliber in the shooting of an intruder at his home in Knoxville, TN, in December.

The entire affair, of course, was very much tongue in cheek. Taylor had been awakened in the early morning hours of Dec. 17, 2007, when an intruder broke into his home. He investigated the noises with one of his many weapons in hand.

When the intruder threatened him with a knife, Taylor warned him, then brought his .22 caliber pistol to bear and shot him right between the eyes.

That boy had the hardest head Ive ever seen, Taylor said after his trial. The bullet bounced right off. The impact knocked the would-be thief down momentarily. He crawled out of the room then got up and ran out the door and down the street. Knoxville police apprehended him a few blocks away and he now awaits trial in the Knox County jail."

P.S. It just gets funnier.

Random "Thriller" dancing on the London Tube

I don't even like Michael Jackson, but this is soooooo cool.
Yay limey yoots!
We used to hang by our knees from the subway handrails to weird out and amuse our fellow travelers, but this is a waaaay better idea.

Very Fun Flash Tutorial

Yeah, it's put out by a mega corporation, not a university, but it's still a very fun learning tool.
It's laid out in one of those crappy "intuitive" styles, but of course it's not very intuitive at all.
The intro takes about a minute or so, when the "light year" page loads, you can click through the rest of the segments, going from right to left as size decreases. Not all of the pages have text, but take the time to read the one's that do.
The thin, gray tiles (with the tiny, tiny print) along the bottom of the image area are your navigation bar. The silhouettes on the graph are clickable, just mouse-over for names.
CLICK HERE for "Universcale"

Rilo Kiley

My friend Phil at work suggested this to me, but he got it all dyslexic! He said Kilo Riley! Haha!
Seriously, this is some really fine music with a solid female lead.

Ouch

Cut my middle fingernail off a little bit today. Typing very carefully...
Been a spell of that goin' round the old workplace. The Sous sliced his thumb eight stitches worth, I got instant karma for laughing at his dumb ass.
I'm suspecting stress related mishaps, now that I have to explain my stupidity.
Had to watch some Office Space clips just to cheer up. Wondering what my next career move will be, gonna come to a head soon I'm sure.
Fuck these motherfuckers. Yeah, I know, never ever post about your job if you wanna keep it...
"I have an extensive collection of hairnets and name tags" -Wayne

Well Ok then.

Just please tell everybody you know that you dumped me because you were sick of me spending all my money on guns.

My First Job

I was hired as a dishwasher by my neighbor Hal, a white boy with a mushroom tattoo married to a lovely, fat-bootied black girl. They had the cutest little pickaninny kid... but ah, I digress.
Hal asked me one day if I'd care to come down to Scarpelli's on Nicolette Avenue and bust a few suds. When I figured out what that meant, I said, "Sure!"
Sign me up for makin' some scratch fo sho bro, I'd been applying for jobs for a year with no luck.
Hal was a baker at Scarpelli's, a 450 seat cavern of connected storefronts in a building that I'm sure has long since been torn down. They served up mid western Italian cuisine on a grand scale. The cauldron I was tasked with cleaning as soon as I arrived for my shift was 150 gallons. Coated in burned marinara. I learned my first trick, the fact that burned on marinara is still acidic, and requires only 15 minutes of contact with water to release it from stainless steel.
My fellow dishwashers were two hardcases, one just a year older than me and the other a 20-something mercenary type. The younger guy was off to join the Marines, hence my hiring.
When I asked, "Aren't you going to miss all that hair?", he replied, "'Tis a small price to pay for a guaranteed future."
He actually said "'Tis".
I realized at that moment I would never see the inside of a barracks. That scrawny little fuck is probably a General these days.
The other fellow, Mike, hated me on sight. He had me pegged as a lazy, pot-addled suburban layabout white boy fuck. Goddamn if he wasn't right.... well at least my first four days.
I caught on quick, my first clue coming when I asked "When are breaks scheduled?" and everyone.... I mean everyone, like, 15 people in a ten yard radius, burst out in belly laughs.
I had this very tired sinking feeling that never left me at that job.
After my cauldron cleansing every afternoon, my job was the removal of every single item in that cave of a walk-in cooler, stacking it all out on a series of milk crates in the hallway, then wiping with bleach every single wire shelf in the cooler and replacing said merchandise before mopping the metal frosty floor with ammonia. After those lungfuls, I had to hightail it to the dish-pit where I was greeted with the steamy effluence of many solvents, enzymatic cleaners and degreasers, not to mention the rinse agents. HOLY CRAP, what an inhalation. I'm already exhausted, the aforementioned tasks had to be completed in 45 minutes to prepare for the dinner rush and get all the prep cooks' pots and pans out of the way of the incoming salad plates.
Then it really started. The joint was full, every night. It was the place to go if it was your first date, if you wanted to break up, if you were just too hammered to make it to the show. It thrived on the edge of downtown and so did I.
I found customers, loyal ones, for my fledgling pot business. God bless cooks and waitresses, they know their fellow humans like no other. For better or worse. Let me tell ya, it takes no small amount of marijuana to deal with you useless fucks day in and day out. When they got really pissed off, they'd take the salads into the walk-in and plant pubes in them. Word to the wise, always be nice to your food-bringers.
Those bus-tubs would roll in non-stop, 'til it got to the point where I fucking hated the word "Incoming!"
It's only cute once, sweetheart, not all goddamn night. The place just screamed from 5:30 PM to 11 o'clock, the cooks would cut themselves and make marinara jokes as their very essence spilled invisibly into the spaghetti.
Schooner glasses would shatter all over the dishpit, shards staying in my forearms for weeks, fumes wafting out of improvised soak tanks for the mannicotti broiler dishes. The waitresses would complain about the dishwasher throwing temper tantrums and salad plates to a selectively deaf manager. ("He shows up for work, I can't fire him!")
Had I realized at that juncture, this was the easiest job I would ever have, suicide would have been the only acceptable route.
Thankfully, we toughen with age.

Visitor Booted from National Archives, Home of the Constitution

...for wearing a t-shirt printed with... The Constitution.
"On Jan 12, members of John Niremberg's impeachment march(which started over a month ago in Boston) were either denied entry to or expelled from the National Archives for wearing clothing printed with the articles of the Constitution concerning impeachment."
Had enough yet?

Ah Luvs Me Sum Sheriff Ed Brown!

Sad story, but... DAYUM! This HILLBILLY Sheriff takes the cake!
If only EVERY unjust death got the same coverage...