Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
I swear, it's not me!
Yesterday I received the following email from a friend:
Bob works hard and spends his leisure time playing golf.
His wife thinks he's pushing himself too hard, so for his birthday she takes him to a local strip club.
The doorman at the club greets them and says, 'Hey, Bob! How ya doin?'
His wife is puzzled and asks if he's been to this club before.
'Oh no,' says Bob. 'He's in my golf league.
When they are seated, a waitress asks Bob if he'd like his usual and brings over a Budweiser.
His wife is becoming increasingly uncomfortable and says, How did she know that you drink Budweiser?'
I recognize her, she's the waitress from the golf club. I always have a Bud at the end of the 1st nine, honey.
A stripper then comes over to their table, throws her arms around Bob, starts to rub herself all over him and says, 'Hi Bobby. Want your usual table dance, big boy?'
Bob's wife, now furious, grabs her purse and storms out of the club. Bob follows and spots her getting into a cab. Before she can slam the door he jumps in beside her.
Bob tries desperately to explain how the stripper must have mistaken him for someone else, but his wife is having none of it . She is screaming at him at the top of her lungs, calling him every 4 letter word in the book.The cabby turns around and says 'Geez Bob, you picked up a real bitch this time.
Bob's funeral will be on Friday.
My response to said friend was as follows:
Let it be known that the announcement of my death has been greatly exaggerated and I have never been to that strip club and I do not know Candy, the aforementioned stripper or Tony the cab driver.
Bob works hard and spends his leisure time playing golf.
His wife thinks he's pushing himself too hard, so for his birthday she takes him to a local strip club.
The doorman at the club greets them and says, 'Hey, Bob! How ya doin?'
His wife is puzzled and asks if he's been to this club before.
'Oh no,' says Bob. 'He's in my golf league.
When they are seated, a waitress asks Bob if he'd like his usual and brings over a Budweiser.
His wife is becoming increasingly uncomfortable and says, How did she know that you drink Budweiser?'
I recognize her, she's the waitress from the golf club. I always have a Bud at the end of the 1st nine, honey.
A stripper then comes over to their table, throws her arms around Bob, starts to rub herself all over him and says, 'Hi Bobby. Want your usual table dance, big boy?'
Bob's wife, now furious, grabs her purse and storms out of the club. Bob follows and spots her getting into a cab. Before she can slam the door he jumps in beside her.
Bob tries desperately to explain how the stripper must have mistaken him for someone else, but his wife is having none of it . She is screaming at him at the top of her lungs, calling him every 4 letter word in the book.The cabby turns around and says 'Geez Bob, you picked up a real bitch this time.
Bob's funeral will be on Friday.
My response to said friend was as follows:
Let it be known that the announcement of my death has been greatly exaggerated and I have never been to that strip club and I do not know Candy, the aforementioned stripper or Tony the cab driver.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Rotate This
I had to install a few new sprinkler heads today, some were leaking and one stopped moving. It was one of those with a rotating head that you would use to cover a larger area.
While most of the sprinklers are easy to replace; dig the hole, remove old head, replace the riser and screw in new sprinkler, the rotating type come with instructions. Where do they put the instructions? Pasted to the sprinkler so if you try to remove them so you don't forget what the steps are you will destroy them (remember, once you install the new head it is below ground so you will no longer be able to read the directions). So what to do but copy them (unless you have a good memory).
First step, grip the rubber head and move clockwise to set the right border, then move counter clockwise to set the left border. Second step, rotate the entire head clockwise to set the left fixed point while at the same time stick your thumb up your ass (this will keep you still) and then rotate the head counter clockwise.
If you are easily confused, be careful not to rotate your thumb, this could cause you to flinch and you may not get the spray directed as desired. The third and fourth steps advise you how to adjust the fixed borders left and right so don't confuse your left hand with your right hand or you may wind up with mud up your ass.
Other than that it's real simple!
While most of the sprinklers are easy to replace; dig the hole, remove old head, replace the riser and screw in new sprinkler, the rotating type come with instructions. Where do they put the instructions? Pasted to the sprinkler so if you try to remove them so you don't forget what the steps are you will destroy them (remember, once you install the new head it is below ground so you will no longer be able to read the directions). So what to do but copy them (unless you have a good memory).
First step, grip the rubber head and move clockwise to set the right border, then move counter clockwise to set the left border. Second step, rotate the entire head clockwise to set the left fixed point while at the same time stick your thumb up your ass (this will keep you still) and then rotate the head counter clockwise.
If you are easily confused, be careful not to rotate your thumb, this could cause you to flinch and you may not get the spray directed as desired. The third and fourth steps advise you how to adjust the fixed borders left and right so don't confuse your left hand with your right hand or you may wind up with mud up your ass.
Other than that it's real simple!
Monday, July 28, 2008
Have all men been castrated?
Or is it just those in eastern Nebraska and Western Iowa?
In any event, one thing that I ignored (or did not learn) from my time in the service was to never volunteer. Yesterday, I spent 3 hours manning the main gate at the local county fair. My job was to allow only those with a pass to take their vehicle onto the fair grounds. All in all, it was pretty boring, most of the time I wished I had brought a book.
However, when a vehicle did approach my post (that's an old military term) without a visible pass I stopped them. Whenever a male was driving and there was a female in the passenger seat, I never heard anything come out of the mouth of the male. He may have started to open his mouth to say something, but the woman always, I say again, ALWAYS, got her mouth moving before he could. And he would just sit there, mouth half open with a dumb look on his face like he was trying to say I'm sorry but she had my nuts removed about 10 years ago so I really don't have anything to say.
NK called them henpecked, I think it is more like peckerless. They must spend most of their time at home (when not saying yes dear, you are right dear) looking for the strongbox she keeps his dick in.
(P.S. - this is not intended to disparage the female gender, it is merely a comment on how the American male has allowed himself to be neutered).
In any event, one thing that I ignored (or did not learn) from my time in the service was to never volunteer. Yesterday, I spent 3 hours manning the main gate at the local county fair. My job was to allow only those with a pass to take their vehicle onto the fair grounds. All in all, it was pretty boring, most of the time I wished I had brought a book.
However, when a vehicle did approach my post (that's an old military term) without a visible pass I stopped them. Whenever a male was driving and there was a female in the passenger seat, I never heard anything come out of the mouth of the male. He may have started to open his mouth to say something, but the woman always, I say again, ALWAYS, got her mouth moving before he could. And he would just sit there, mouth half open with a dumb look on his face like he was trying to say I'm sorry but she had my nuts removed about 10 years ago so I really don't have anything to say.
NK called them henpecked, I think it is more like peckerless. They must spend most of their time at home (when not saying yes dear, you are right dear) looking for the strongbox she keeps his dick in.
(P.S. - this is not intended to disparage the female gender, it is merely a comment on how the American male has allowed himself to be neutered).
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Sunday Scene
As per my normal Sunday morning ritual, I went out through the garage and front gate to gather up the local rag...the Wierd Herald but lo and behold it was not in it's normal spot. No orange bag laying in the driveway.
I looked across the street and noticed that the familiar object was laying on one of our neighbors driveways and looked back at ours. Then I saw it, recognized it right away. Someone had decapitated a snake and decided it should adorn our driveway. The question is, does this have some meaning, is it a warning of some sort, does someone wish us harm? Is there possible some meaning to the way it is positioned?
I looked across the street and noticed that the familiar object was laying on one of our neighbors driveways and looked back at ours. Then I saw it, recognized it right away. Someone had decapitated a snake and decided it should adorn our driveway. The question is, does this have some meaning, is it a warning of some sort, does someone wish us harm? Is there possible some meaning to the way it is positioned?
Just about everyone has a conspiricy theory about something, and I think I should make one up about this.
Since our house is up for sale and has been for some time, it is my theory that someone, perhaps the same one that keeps removing the for sale signs that point to our house, wants us to consider lowering the price and they think that by tossing a beheaded snake in the driveway we will begin to think that maybe the neighborhood is becoming unsafe, lowering the price just go get away.....maybe it is even our Agent who has twice suggested we consider a reduction (but then he wouldn't steal his own signs....or would he?).
Just in case any of that may be close to why we have a dead, decapitated snake in our driveway, and in case the person or persons that decided to let us have it might stumble across this post, forget it buster (or bustess), the house is what it is and is not going to be reduced.
Oh, by the way, I found the paper in the recepticle the newspaper people attached to our mailbox post that they hardly ever use. Maybe the deliverly person didn't want to chance hitting the snake by throwing the paper down.
Just in case any of that may be close to why we have a dead, decapitated snake in our driveway, and in case the person or persons that decided to let us have it might stumble across this post, forget it buster (or bustess), the house is what it is and is not going to be reduced.
Oh, by the way, I found the paper in the recepticle the newspaper people attached to our mailbox post that they hardly ever use. Maybe the deliverly person didn't want to chance hitting the snake by throwing the paper down.
Friday, July 25, 2008
The Answer to World Hunger
Huzzah, Huzzah, we finally have an answer to world hunger and it comes from former Presidential candidate Duncan Hunter (who the hell is he, and did anyone beside his family know that he was running for President in 2008?).
Anywho, his resolution to world hunger is to begin to kill species that don't exist, at least, not in the country he planned to begin his kill fest. To feed the starving population of Chad, Hunter wanted to take a hunting trip to shoot down all of the Wildebeest in that country and he would donate the result of the hunt to the starving populace. Only two things wrong, Chad does not allow such hunting trips and (gulp) there are no Wildebeests in Chad.
When Hunter was informed of the problem, he offered to hunt the animals down wherever they existed. So, yesterday, he became infamous as the Countdown worst person in the world.
Anywho, his resolution to world hunger is to begin to kill species that don't exist, at least, not in the country he planned to begin his kill fest. To feed the starving population of Chad, Hunter wanted to take a hunting trip to shoot down all of the Wildebeest in that country and he would donate the result of the hunt to the starving populace. Only two things wrong, Chad does not allow such hunting trips and (gulp) there are no Wildebeests in Chad.
When Hunter was informed of the problem, he offered to hunt the animals down wherever they existed. So, yesterday, he became infamous as the Countdown worst person in the world.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
With Friends Like This.....
Here it is, the standard answer to the title line: who needs enemies.
Nothing is funnier than 3 practical jokers getting drunk together, until one of them passes out, then it gets hilarious. Or, according to the 2 now facing jail time, it seemed funny at the time.
That is when Matthew Craig Pillers, 22, and Jack Brent Nicholas Keiffer, 19 decided to douse Elliot Tuleja’s groin with cologne after he passed out and proceeded to see if it would burn. It did and the result was second-and third-degree burns on his testicles and third-degree burns on his inner thighs.
But amazingly enough, I have a story that can top this, a self inflicted dousing with fire. This friend of mine on a business trip to Los Angeles discovered that his newly purchased bottle of Savage cologne had cracked in transit from San Francisco to L.A. So, not thinking clearly decided to pour the contents into the toilet in his hotel room. That's not bad, right?
Wrong! Immediately after discarding the flammable material, he decided to take a seat on said john and light up a Marlboro light, using a match. Well, instead of blowing the flame on the match out, he spread his thighs just enough to drop the sill flaming piece of cardboard into the space between his legs, thus exposing his manhood to peril.
Much to his surprise, there was a sudden flash followed by the smell of burning hair and flesh. It seems that pouring cologne into a pool of water in an enclosed bowl does not reduce the alcohol content to a non-flammable liquid. After a rather embarrassing trip to the closed emergency room where he had to explain his predicament (not a dick joke), he had not yet suffered enough indignity.
The next day at the meeting he had gone to L.A. to attend he was presented with a fire extinguisher for future emergencies such as this, along with a new bottle of cologne. Then, a few weeks later, courtesy of NK, he received an anonymous mailing that consisted of the picture of a bottle of Savage, a toilet, and a match with the universal symbol of no (a red circle with a slash through the circle).
Nothing is funnier than 3 practical jokers getting drunk together, until one of them passes out, then it gets hilarious. Or, according to the 2 now facing jail time, it seemed funny at the time.
That is when Matthew Craig Pillers, 22, and Jack Brent Nicholas Keiffer, 19 decided to douse Elliot Tuleja’s groin with cologne after he passed out and proceeded to see if it would burn. It did and the result was second-and third-degree burns on his testicles and third-degree burns on his inner thighs.
But amazingly enough, I have a story that can top this, a self inflicted dousing with fire. This friend of mine on a business trip to Los Angeles discovered that his newly purchased bottle of Savage cologne had cracked in transit from San Francisco to L.A. So, not thinking clearly decided to pour the contents into the toilet in his hotel room. That's not bad, right?
Wrong! Immediately after discarding the flammable material, he decided to take a seat on said john and light up a Marlboro light, using a match. Well, instead of blowing the flame on the match out, he spread his thighs just enough to drop the sill flaming piece of cardboard into the space between his legs, thus exposing his manhood to peril.
Much to his surprise, there was a sudden flash followed by the smell of burning hair and flesh. It seems that pouring cologne into a pool of water in an enclosed bowl does not reduce the alcohol content to a non-flammable liquid. After a rather embarrassing trip to the closed emergency room where he had to explain his predicament (not a dick joke), he had not yet suffered enough indignity.
The next day at the meeting he had gone to L.A. to attend he was presented with a fire extinguisher for future emergencies such as this, along with a new bottle of cologne. Then, a few weeks later, courtesy of NK, he received an anonymous mailing that consisted of the picture of a bottle of Savage, a toilet, and a match with the universal symbol of no (a red circle with a slash through the circle).
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Sometimes the Tooth Fairy Doesn't Leave $$
Then again, sometimes they don't leave much of anything at all. Yesterday I mentioned that we say Hellboy II, it has tooth fairies but not the type that you would want to have sneaking into your bedroom to swap cash for a tooth.
These are little gremlins that can reduce a 300 pound person to dust in seconds, and they swarm like bees and move like the Tasmanian devil. Just the perfect thing to scare the bejesus out of your little one if you have just a touch of evil in you.
You know, like Cosby's dad telling Bill and Russell about the monster in the closet only you can use this one to get them to let you pull the loose tooth. Like if we don't get it out now, the bad tooth fairies will come and the first thing they go after are your teeth, then your flesh and finally your bones. And they don't leave anything behind. Just the thing for a nice bedtime story, eh?
These are little gremlins that can reduce a 300 pound person to dust in seconds, and they swarm like bees and move like the Tasmanian devil. Just the perfect thing to scare the bejesus out of your little one if you have just a touch of evil in you.
You know, like Cosby's dad telling Bill and Russell about the monster in the closet only you can use this one to get them to let you pull the loose tooth. Like if we don't get it out now, the bad tooth fairies will come and the first thing they go after are your teeth, then your flesh and finally your bones. And they don't leave anything behind. Just the thing for a nice bedtime story, eh?
Monday, July 21, 2008
Times have apparently changed or R is for Ridiculous
Before Saturday, I had always believed that if a movie had an "R" rating it meant that anyone under 17 years of age had to be accompanied by a parent of guardian. After going to see Hellboy II it appears that the times have changed but the Classification and Ratings Administration (yes, there is such a body) make no mention of the apparent change.
Take note of the bottom of the movie board....."No Children Under 7 Allowed in "R" Rated Films".
Now I don't have a problem with this restriction other than letting an 7, 8, or 9 year old, even someone that is 10 see an R rated film. Who drew the line at 7 when they will allow a parent to make a decision to bring a child between 7 and 17 into the theater?
Take a movie like Wanted. It is rated R mainly due to strong bloody violence. So we let an immature child over 6 in and it's OK. Something is wrong here don't you think?
Take note of the bottom of the movie board....."No Children Under 7 Allowed in "R" Rated Films".
Now I don't have a problem with this restriction other than letting an 7, 8, or 9 year old, even someone that is 10 see an R rated film. Who drew the line at 7 when they will allow a parent to make a decision to bring a child between 7 and 17 into the theater?
Take a movie like Wanted. It is rated R mainly due to strong bloody violence. So we let an immature child over 6 in and it's OK. Something is wrong here don't you think?
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Redneck Fashion Tips
Here you go ladies, looking for a 100% cotton top at an affordable price. This Walmart shopper from Gardendale, Alabama has the answer. You have probably seen the Hanes for her commercials.....well I'm not sure this is what they really had in mind.
I have to wonder, are they new or did her redneck beau blow out the neckline for her?
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
More on the Cover
As much as I respect Chris Matthews and Rachel Maddow (MSNBC & Air America Radio) I have to believe that they give themselves and MSNBC more credit than they (it) deserves. Reading into this you might say that they are somewhat elitist.
I say this because of some of the comments made about the flap over the cover of New Yorker. They believe that the general public will get the concept of the satire intended by the magazine because they are giving it so much air time.
They really should do a reality check and think about who their audience is (hint, it is not the general, beer guzzling, NASCAR watching, fan of Cops TV or American Idol). Their audience consists of those who agree with their message, The average American will not benefit from their insightful repartee so back off a little on the importance of your message, you are not getting through to those folks. Way too many of folks in this country will see the cover and say -
"I knew it, the SOB is a Muslim".
I say this because of some of the comments made about the flap over the cover of New Yorker. They believe that the general public will get the concept of the satire intended by the magazine because they are giving it so much air time.
They really should do a reality check and think about who their audience is (hint, it is not the general, beer guzzling, NASCAR watching, fan of Cops TV or American Idol). Their audience consists of those who agree with their message, The average American will not benefit from their insightful repartee so back off a little on the importance of your message, you are not getting through to those folks. Way too many of folks in this country will see the cover and say -
"I knew it, the SOB is a Muslim".
Monday, July 14, 2008
Satire or Scandalous
The cover of the July 21st New Yorker magazine presents an image of Barak and Michelle
Obama in the white house dressed as Muslim terrorists. They are fist bumping, there is a photo of Osama Bin Laden in the background and an American flag buring in the fireplace.
The New Yorker claims it is merely a satirical look at the rumours that have circulated about Obama. Given that there are still many people in this country believe that Obama is a Muslim and that there has been and still is an active campaign to portray him as such, I just don't think that any attempt at satire on this subject is acceptable.
To me, this is a scandalous, tasteless and offensive weapon for the hateful few that continue to spread innuendo and lies.
Obama in the white house dressed as Muslim terrorists. They are fist bumping, there is a photo of Osama Bin Laden in the background and an American flag buring in the fireplace.
The New Yorker claims it is merely a satirical look at the rumours that have circulated about Obama. Given that there are still many people in this country believe that Obama is a Muslim and that there has been and still is an active campaign to portray him as such, I just don't think that any attempt at satire on this subject is acceptable.
To me, this is a scandalous, tasteless and offensive weapon for the hateful few that continue to spread innuendo and lies.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Sunday, Sunday
For the first time this year, we are sitting outside, under our canopy on the patio enjoying breakfast. Just bagels, coffee and mimosa but it has been so nice the past few days we just couldn't resist.
With breakfast done I started looking around and lo and behold we were in the middle of a courtship. Have you ever seen bunnies fuck? OK maybe that is a little crude, it appeared to be a courting ritual followed by the mount. The male would jump straight up in the air (this must be impressive to the female, even though this particular one must not have been impressed. Maybe he didn't jump high enough?), and then attempt an entry from behind, sometimes preceded by a chase.
Watching this jump up, chase, jump up, chase got me thinking. As males, once we are done chasing the female of the human species until she catches us, we seem to jump on command and only ask how high? Might the bunny world be where this propensity of ours comes from?
With breakfast done I started looking around and lo and behold we were in the middle of a courtship. Have you ever seen bunnies fuck? OK maybe that is a little crude, it appeared to be a courting ritual followed by the mount. The male would jump straight up in the air (this must be impressive to the female, even though this particular one must not have been impressed. Maybe he didn't jump high enough?), and then attempt an entry from behind, sometimes preceded by a chase.
Watching this jump up, chase, jump up, chase got me thinking. As males, once we are done chasing the female of the human species until she catches us, we seem to jump on command and only ask how high? Might the bunny world be where this propensity of ours comes from?
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Here's Your Sign (Subtitle - Results of No Child Left Behind, Can Anyone Out There Read?)
Bill Engvall coined this phrase long ago and it has not lost it's value. So far this year 239 people have become extremely ill after drinking fuel that was meant to be placed into a tiki lamp (so if you are going to have tiki lamps at the tiki party CK, make sure you take care with the liquid).
Two of the 239 are now living in another world. Seven stupid Americans come from the Metro area in which I currently reside (but strongly desire to leave). As it turns out, the fuel has the same appearance as apple juice so without looking to see what they are serving or drinking (I wonder who put the stuff in the refrigerator in the first place) the intelligentsia of this country served it up.
Perhaps we that remain and have not purchased, served or consumed tiki fuel should feel remorse that the other 237 idiots that did drink it survived to further populate our country.
Two of the 239 are now living in another world. Seven stupid Americans come from the Metro area in which I currently reside (but strongly desire to leave). As it turns out, the fuel has the same appearance as apple juice so without looking to see what they are serving or drinking (I wonder who put the stuff in the refrigerator in the first place) the intelligentsia of this country served it up.
Perhaps we that remain and have not purchased, served or consumed tiki fuel should feel remorse that the other 237 idiots that did drink it survived to further populate our country.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Ode to the tomato
Oh little tomato, how I've missed you. The caress of your green skin as you grow brought me endless joy many years ago. I've missed tantalizing your root system as I turned the soil at your base to keep the dastardly weeds from sucking the water from your flesh.
The fragrance from my fingertips teasing my airway after plucking the sucker stems has rejuvenated my nostrils. Even though you were only one and have come from a pot instead of the glorious rows of the past, I know there will soon be more of you to enjoy; but I long to wander through your host plants. Somehow a little water from a small watering can is just not like it was.
Yes, you were only one, but we ate your ass anyway and you sure were good.
The fragrance from my fingertips teasing my airway after plucking the sucker stems has rejuvenated my nostrils. Even though you were only one and have come from a pot instead of the glorious rows of the past, I know there will soon be more of you to enjoy; but I long to wander through your host plants. Somehow a little water from a small watering can is just not like it was.
Yes, you were only one, but we ate your ass anyway and you sure were good.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Heels, Redux
I was going to just post a comment on this subject on CK's blog when we lost our Internet connection last night. Having just restored it (hope it is a permanent fix) I decided to journalize my comment here instead.
Her post and a conversation with my brother last night while I was reading about her "heel" adventures made me think of a time when my little bro used to wear our mother's (GG Kaos) heels.
Not by choice, mind you, but by brute force and intimidation. For some reason, Aunt Tuna and I rejoiced in a cruel streak and forced him to put on the heels and run down the hallway. Before he could get halfway, we would delightfully throw whatever we had available (mostly I remember pillows) at his running little ankles and knock him off his feet. Then we would make him do it again until we grew tired of watching him fall.
Ah, childhood memories....for the life of me I don't know why he did not refuse to cooperate, there was no reward for playing our little game, only a sore butt.
We were lucky that he never lost a heel, that would have been difficult to explain.
Her post and a conversation with my brother last night while I was reading about her "heel" adventures made me think of a time when my little bro used to wear our mother's (GG Kaos) heels.
Not by choice, mind you, but by brute force and intimidation. For some reason, Aunt Tuna and I rejoiced in a cruel streak and forced him to put on the heels and run down the hallway. Before he could get halfway, we would delightfully throw whatever we had available (mostly I remember pillows) at his running little ankles and knock him off his feet. Then we would make him do it again until we grew tired of watching him fall.
Ah, childhood memories....for the life of me I don't know why he did not refuse to cooperate, there was no reward for playing our little game, only a sore butt.
We were lucky that he never lost a heel, that would have been difficult to explain.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Monday, July 7, 2008
Question of the Week
We had a few friends over for a BBQ yesterday. I got up around 6:30AM to get the fire started so I could put the 12 lb. brisket on around 7AM. My plan was to cook it at 190 degrees for about 9 hours so I could pull it off about 4PM and let it rest for about an hour.....dinner at 5.
The guests began to arrive around 3 and the beer and conversation was flowing at a comfortable pace. As host I was of course attending to a number of things but after all of our company arrived I took the opportunity to sit for a minute and join the conversation.
So down I sat, right across from one of the male guests and I noticed something......his testicles were in plain view. I did a little swivel in my chair to change my view. I don't know if anyone else had a clear view but a couple of nuts were clearly getting some fresh air.
On to the question, do you ignore the view and let others have a chance at a peek or discreetly mention to the person that his balls are running free?
The guests began to arrive around 3 and the beer and conversation was flowing at a comfortable pace. As host I was of course attending to a number of things but after all of our company arrived I took the opportunity to sit for a minute and join the conversation.
So down I sat, right across from one of the male guests and I noticed something......his testicles were in plain view. I did a little swivel in my chair to change my view. I don't know if anyone else had a clear view but a couple of nuts were clearly getting some fresh air.
On to the question, do you ignore the view and let others have a chance at a peek or discreetly mention to the person that his balls are running free?
Friday, July 4, 2008
Happy 4th
232 years ago a band of rebels declared that the 13 colonies of the British Empire no longer wished to be subjected to the whim of the realm with a statement known as the Declarlation of Independence. While the vote was actually completed on July 2nd, 1776, the formal adoption took place 2 days later on July 4th. John Adams, writing to his wife, Abigail, on July 3rd predicted that the 2nd of July would become a great American holiday. He was only off by 2 days.
While largely written by Thomas Jefferson, a committee of 5 consisting of John Adams, Benjaman Franklin, Robert Livingston, Roger Sherman and TJ, was appointed on June 11, 1776 by the Continental Congress to draft a declaration. After much debate and numerous changes the final version was approved and sent to the printer on 7/4/1776. That is why we celebrate the 4th and not the 2nd.
In all, 56 representatives from the 13 colonies signed the document, most of the signatures were not affixed until August 2nd, almost a month later.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
The Times Are Still A-Changing
As I sit here and listen to Dylan (Bob) not Thomas I realize that I must be mellowing as old age sets in. Nothing has pissed me off lately and that in itself pisses me off. I like to get ticked off, I always feel better when I have something or someone to go off on.
On Saturday I had every opportunity to get really upset when the twosome in front of me refused time and again to allow me to play through. Normally when this happens, my game goes straight to hell, I get impatient and hurry every swing. Then I lose focus and am lucky to even hit the ball.
But Saturday was different, I just waited patiently for them to move on. I guess it was just time for another of lifes lessons to get me to slow down.
I don't mind them, I just like to get fired up once in awhile.
On Saturday I had every opportunity to get really upset when the twosome in front of me refused time and again to allow me to play through. Normally when this happens, my game goes straight to hell, I get impatient and hurry every swing. Then I lose focus and am lucky to even hit the ball.
But Saturday was different, I just waited patiently for them to move on. I guess it was just time for another of lifes lessons to get me to slow down.
I don't mind them, I just like to get fired up once in awhile.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
If my middle name did not start with a "B" I would say it was really a "P" for procrasti-nate. This is in response to David's weekend question, Do you ever procrastinate?
If I had any say in it, I would have put off being born. If there is something to be done, I will figure out a way to do it tomorrow (and when tomorrow comes, I will postpone it until tomorrow).
Sometimes I attribute it to pure laziness but really I thing that I just say I will do something (not really meaning that I will do it) and then just forget about it.
Shhhhh, please don't tell NK I fessed up to this.
If I had any say in it, I would have put off being born. If there is something to be done, I will figure out a way to do it tomorrow (and when tomorrow comes, I will postpone it until tomorrow).
Sometimes I attribute it to pure laziness but really I thing that I just say I will do something (not really meaning that I will do it) and then just forget about it.
Shhhhh, please don't tell NK I fessed up to this.
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