April 28, 2006
Left yesterday afternoon, and I just got into Austin. Heheheh... look out, y'all.
No Such Thing
My nose itches, and I'm hungry... coincidence???
April 27, 2006
What started out as "harmless" fun, turns out to be an expose. I fear that I may further lose a friend (he already doesn't want to hang out with me after the "tick post") over this...
It was a while ago, but I ran across the My Heritage Face Analyzer Doo-hickey thing over at Agent Bedhead's. I had no pictures loaded into my computer at the time, so I didn't check it out... forgetting that there were already a couple of me out there on the intraweb. Later, I saw it again at Oddybobo's, and I knew I had to check it out. I looked through my archives, and located a picture, then I used the picture of the rabid Joe attacking his dad, to see who came up as matches. I also used my father's shot, since it's been said that I look just like him. The results were interesting...
I also checked out another angle, found in this post. A few names came up quite often, so I'll just give you them, though, I had some very strong matches from that bungies shot. Almost all were above 70% matches.
Here's the names that seemed to be common:
Off of the bungie pic, I had Johnny Depp, at 74%, Pier Paolo Pasolini, at 72%, Beckham, Roberto Rosselini at 71% (Ingrid Bergman... lucky bastard), and, Gott help me, Macauley Calkin at 71%. This pic gave me the best results. Among the others were many, many Europeans, mostly German (imagine that... I'm over 3/4 German!), and some very weak matches.
There were also some female matches that had me wishing I lived in West Virginia. Milla Jovovich, at 74%, Kylie Minogue, at 72%, and Liv Tyler, at 71%. There was also one I'd never heard of before, but DAMN she do be hot! Her name is Rani Mukherjee, a Bengali actress. Mmmmmm... Bengali....
I guess one positive thing from this is that when I finally let Jennifer Aniston catch me, it won't be like making out with kin...
I know, by now you're wondering, "How the hell is this endangering a friendship?" Or, "Where the hell is this expose?!?" Okay, okay... I'm there already.
In the midst of this "research," a name kept coming up, and though it sounded familiar, I couldn't place it. Bashar al-Assad... Bashar al-Assad... I decided to check this guy out. Hell, I checked everyone out, but it was killing me not to know who this dude was. Turns out, he's the President of Syria. Yeah... a bad guy. I did an image search on him, and what I saw made my blood run cold. You see, you could very well have met this guy. At any rate, you DO know him...
I'm a little worried about this weekend...
April 26, 2006
ALWAYS compose your posts in Wordpad, Notepad, Word... something other than your editing page of your publishing system.
Thank Gott I hadn't deleted my post below from Wordpad (as I usually do)... I lost half my post while trying to get an image to work properly. Poof... gone.
I was almost too mad to get a beer...
Memories From Boot
During the past few days, I've had many things to do. A lot to get taken care of before heading out to meet up with a bunch of degenerates, and then possibly on to Florida. The problem has been keeping focused... I keep running across old things, or things that get me to reminiscing. Not very conducive to getting things done, but it has brought back some great memories.
The other day, with full intentions of scanning the news and then getting to work, I saw a picture gallery of Marine boot camp, at Parris Island. It wasn't a bad group of pics, but it could have been better. But it did cause me to pull out my "yearbook," and dust off it's cover... and my memories.
Platoon 3107, I (or "India") Company, MCRD San Diego. My bootcamp training platoon. I may have told you that before, but hey, I'm getting older. It's time to start repeating myself. My brother was in the same platoon with me, another fact you may know, but we managed to convince our DI's that there was no love lost between us. Something that greatly improved the quality of our training. Oh, they found out later that we were full of shit, but by then, we were in third phase... our last stage of bootcamp. Our "heavy hat," an R. Lee Ermey clone, told us over a beer on graduation day, that they (the DI's) had thought it funny that we had pulled it off the way we did. The "do you love your brother" routine ended early for us. Not so for another set of brother's that went through in our platoon.
Bootcamp was probably one of my favorite things about the Marines. Your schedule is made, the day planned. All you have to do is follow orders and keep up. Granted, I went in when I was a little older (24), so I had a slightly different view. But as long as you understood that everything you did or said had a purpose, whether immediate or eventual, it was easy to take. Hell, it was even FUN. And the DI's we had were some of the funniest dudes you could ever meet. Gott help you if they caught you laughing, but they were funny, nonetheless. Once, one of them lost his straight face, and started laughing before he could turn away. Heheheh... we paid for that one, but I think we were all still grinning from ear to ear.
Anyway, one of the memories that sticks with me most, is our day at the "Bridge Over Troubled Waters." The MCRD Parris Island recruits fought in an Octagon, Eric has a story he could tell you, and we "Hollywood Marines" fought on a bridge. I looked for pictures, and the only good ones I found were in my yearbook. I also noticed that there were more than a couple pics of my bro and I, including the day of the battle, so I scanned them, and they're found below.
The "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" is an event that takes place at the end of bayonet training. Combatants face each other in the center of a 6' wide bridge, and try to knock their opponent over the edge, using the tactics learned the day before. If a recruit is knocked to the bridge, he is allowed to stand up again, and battle once more. If he's knocked into the water, he's considered "dead." The way it went when we went through, if you returned to the squad bay wet, you got to spend time in the "classroom." That means, getting bent... "Run. Run. Run... Pushups. Pushups... Run. Run. Run. Run... Leg lifts... Run... Leg lifts... Run..." You get the picture. (Some of this is done for the amusement of all... my cousin had a kid in his platoon that would go into a leglift position in mid-air, and drop on his back. The DI's loved it.) At this stage of bootcamp, it's not that big of a deal. Hell, we had guys, who hadn't fallen in, running up to relieve the "thrashees."
To get back to it, my brother and I were going into this event without a frickin' clue. The one time that our "We hate each other" facade didn't work for us, we got sent to the company office to be runners for the day. So while the rest of the platoon spent the day in the bear pits beating the crap out of each other, and learning, we sat on our butts, unless papers needed to be run to the other side of base. I think I only ran twice, and R may have went out three times. Kinda pointless, but I guess it's gotta be done.
This pic is of R (on the left)and me (next to the floating head) watching as the others fight, trying to learn what we had missed from the day before. Kind of a cram session. He's a quick study, I'm... well, you'll find out in a second.
According to Section VI of the "Arts Safety & Training Equipment And Facilities Handbook," the Bridge and the Octogan are "used for Martial Arts training to include various types of free sparring and combative events. It is an outstanding means to instill cohesion as well as motivation and aggressiveness." They aren't kidding about cohesion and motivation. It's like you're at the state finals, and the teams are tied, just seconds left on the clock. Everyone is screaming and yelling... the combatants are pumped up. The waiting watchers are pumped. The kid that may have been working and joking alongside you at the firing range just a couple weeks ago is now your enemy. You end up cheering the kid in your platoon that has gotten you the distinction of being the only platoon of the series to go on an "island hopping campaign" (running to every sand pit on base, and getting bent, seriously, at each)... the kid you'd have loved to given a blanket party, if not for the serious punishment that would occurr should you try. Now, he's your teamate.
We watched in nervous anticipation, keeping track of who we might battle. In that pic, R is putting in his mouthpiece, about to take his turn. I ended up going before he did. Not sure why, other than the kid I drew was a pretty stocky dude. I had about two inches height on him, but we had to be similar in weight. We made our way to the middle of the bridge, and awaited the start.
The whistle blew, and I made a serious mistake. My great plan was to react to his moves. I thought for sure that I could nail him before he hit me hard enough to get me in trouble. Wrong. No sooner had that whistle went off, than I saw a flash, and I hit the bridge... my feeble attempt at ducking being just enough to keep the impact from knocking me into next week. As it was, it was a solid hit. Of what happened next, I don't remember a whole lot.
I do know I was pissed... to me, I considered myself "dead." But R told me that no sooner had I hit the bridge, than I had let go of the pugil stick, and upended my opponent. As he hit the ground, the whistles were going crazy trying to stop the bout, and I was going crazy, climbing on top of him, holding his weapon immobile, and punching him. I don't remember this...
That bout was over before it began. I wanted to knock him out, and as soon as the whistle went, I shoved him, and clobbered the snot out of him. I dropped my hands down so that I was gripping the stick like a bat, and smashed him once more for good measure, as he was falling into the water. I kinda remember that...
One thing I remeber clearly, is hearing my platoon's side of the pool cheering like a bunch of madmen. I was pissed off, and pumped up, which you can kind of see in the last pic. I wish that they had gotten R's grin, because that's one thing I'll never forget.
R was up next, and he was fighting the mirror image of himself, as far as build, and reactions. R a lefty, and his opponent right handed. When they began, it was a very short "getting to know you" phase, and then it was on. R got him a good one, but when he went to finish him off, the guy got R off balance. Back and forth like this it went. They stopped and restarted the bout. Same thing.
The next restart, they stood back to back. When the whistle blew, they both turned the exact same way, blocking each other's moves. Once turned around, it was a repeat of the previous starts and stops. Neither could land a "killing" blow, though they were hitting HARD. The instructors were having a blast with it, and everyone was yelling and screaming. A couple of DI's from another battalion stopped by to watch.
They stood back to back, with their toes over the edge for the next restart. Same thing. We were yelling and laughing... it really did look like a mirror at times. Once they got themselves established in the center of the bridge, it was again stopped. This time, they had to sit with their legs dangling over the sides.
They came up, and the kid caught R weakly in the side of the head. R went with it, and came all the way around to smack him. They nearly repeated their earlier acts once again, but R managed to catch him dead in the face. His downfall came from trying to smash the dude as he was falling... he lost his balance, and nearly went in. Just as he got his balance, the instructor laughingly gave him a shove. Told him he'd been on his bridge long enough.
When we got back to the squadbay, yeah, R got bent, but it was no big deal. The big deal was that the whole series was talking about his match. I'm always proud of my siblings, but I've gotta tell you that this was one of those times that I couldn't be proud enough.
And though my story didn't do it much justice, it was one of the greatest fights that I'd ever seen. On both sides.
April 25, 2006
Famous Last Words...
Your Famous Last Words Will Be:
"So, you're a cannibal."
I probably won't be telling anyone to "eat me" in the near future...
Looking through some old things today, I realized how much I've changed over the years. I wasn't always as chill as I am today. Nah. I've come a long way from being the tempermental fireball I used to be.
A perfect example of how I used to be was found among some old pics. I had dropped through a register in the floor above, and had a death grip on my father's head. One quick wrench, and it would have been lights out... he knew it, too. You can see the fear in his eyes.
Click to super-size
Just so I could have my first birthday a month early.
April 24, 2006
The first swing of the blade was here and gone... the first blood drawn. The annual battle known as lawn care has begun. A battle that I will lose for the first couple of months. With today's cutting, the rate of growth will increase, forcing me to cut my lawn between two and three times a week. (Not much exaggeration.) I will be able to watch, as the new growth is up and in need of cutting before I finish the previous cut.
But it shall come to pass, in the seventh month, when the air is hot and arid, and the Sun directly overhead, a man... nay, a guy... shall emerge from his cave. He shall come forth at high noon, when the sun is the hottest, and the air borders on Hell, and he will lower his mower, leaving no more than an inch and a half of height. And lo, the sun shall bake the grass, and it shall die. And T1G will look upon his work, and say, "It is good." And he shall mow no more, except to trim the weeds which shall appear every third week... the battle finished, until the next spring, when grass will ignore it's defeat, and shall wage war once again.
Okay, it's time to follow the Jedi master of unemployed bloggers, and grab a gin and tonic, or ten. Good luck in your campaigns...
Animal Kingdom vs. T1G
There has been alliance made against me. Nothing too serious, but the little bastards are working hand in hand. Gophers and Hornets, Allies Looking to Avenge the Bees. Whodda thunk?
I've noticed a steady increase in the number of hornets swarming around the back of my house, but can't find a nest. I only find the gopher holes as I search the eaves and soffets. As I'm looking up, I step in depressions, nearly breaking my ankles. Crafty little jerks...
As I go to pop one of the little gopher critters with a pellet gun (I'm aiming out an open window), two hornets fly in the house... straight at me. They now reside in Hornet Valhalla, but the gopher is back in hiding. This an incredible display of teamwork.
Formidable foes... but they are soon to die. Their alliance broken and shattered upon my lawn and back patio.
The other day, I was reading over at Catfish's, and he had a post up about a very nasty turn on. Probably NSFW to click on that one... I'd think you'd be alright, but you never know. Hell, I'M banned from some places. That's just sad!
Anyway, I'd heard of this particular turn on, once before, but I thought it just a gross out tactic. And instead of using plexiglass, the guy I talked to said he used a glass coffee table. Well, I'm must be a bit of a prude, because there were more than a few folks that had heard about it, including one of the waitresses at the local establishment. She not only had heard of it, she'd done it! Okay, just kidding... she reads this site occasionally. I had to give her crap.
I decided that I'd check into a few things, and I've got to tell you folks, the human race can include some pretty nasty bastards. Seriously. One of the things that I discovered was folks who got off on choking... and not autoerotic asphyxiation. Nope. This would be choking by shwanz... 'til barfing takes place. Yeah.
Now, this is one of those things where I'm at a loss. Having someone yak on your crank is a turn on? Hell, stomach acids jack up the enamel on your teeth... what would it do to skin in more sensitive places? And it ain't just a pleasure for the dude... the ladies get off on it, too. As a matter of fact, I stopped looking around too early. I was talking with someone last evening, and he said that there are some instances where there are two women... one to hurl, and the other to catch. Or should I say, EAT!!! Why??? Perhaps the King of Perversion, Harvey, could shed some light on this, if not some of you...
I would have linked to a picture, but then I kind of like having this blog safe for most folks to check out. Then I started thinking, "Hey... these people really need to know about this stuff," so I scurried around until I could find a picture for you that is totally work safe. Really. You can trust me on this one. I just put it below the fold to keep from distracting you.
Below, you will find: "Hot Chick Puking"... and liking it.
April 22, 2006
Spend enough time around some folks, and you begin to feel the family ties. There are some here that are family to me, whether they know it or not. Fritz and family. No kidding. You may have picked that up, or maybe not, but that's how it be, yo.
I'm sitting here currently feeling like shit. Fritz's youngest, who is my little buddy when it comes to playing shooting games or golf, about broke down into tears this eve... because I may be gone for awhile. My aunt in Florida has called, and needs a hand restarting my uncle's business, so she can put it on the market. Don't know how long it may be, but that may very well be where I end up.
I'm kinda bummin....
April 21, 2006
I Wish I Could Break Something
Not from a hangover, my frickin' head is pounding, and eyes are hurting. I'm trying to get crap accomplished on my computer, and each task seems to take hours. My patience is running very low, and I'm no longer in the best of moods. I stare at this piece of crap, and a tune comes on over Launchcast... a suggestion. And it fits. I won't do it, of course, but it surely do fit the mood.
I want to break it... (a swear word or two is possible)
If the oompa music doesn't make you smile, the aggression will. Enjoy.
Marketing A Diety
There's a new god in town... Gud. He's trying to come up with a new marketing campaign that will put him before all others.
I was checking out the newswires, and I ran across a link to a photo gallery, titled "Notable Deaths Of 2005." The very first pic was of a stripper, Candy Barr. Hmmm.... I thinks to myself. She musta been one hell of a looker. The name do sound familiar...
Not bad, but it turns out that the reason she was number one was because she was the last one of the year. Heheheh... me and my imagination.
April 20, 2006
Scatchin' The Surface
Anyway, his post reminded me of a song from Cracked magazine. To the tune of "My Bonnie"...
My body has calamine lotion
My body's as sore as can be
The flowers that I picked for Granny
Turned out to be poison ivy
Don't touch, don't touch
Dont touch the poison ivy, ivy,
It will itch bad
And the rash looks worse than acne.
(something like that...)
My bro, R, is a mechanic. He works in a shop, but also does a little work out of his garage. At work, he has the opportunity to use a diagnostic program, set up on a Panasonic Toughbook. At home, nothing. So far. This is where you come in...
He's looking to buy a laptop so that he can run this program at home. It doesn't have to be a Toughbook, but it does have to be tough. It may possibly get knocked on the floor, and it will be in a dirty, and sometimes dusty, enviroment. The kicker, and what may put this out of reach, is that he can only spend $600 tops, with $500 being what he'd like to shoot for.
I asked what the minimum system requirements were for the program he's running, and this is what he said; "300 MHZ Pentium, a super VGA display (1024 x 768 resolution), and Windows 98. Also needed are at least one USB port, and Rs 232 port."
Yes, I know I can try to figure out what he needs from reading reviews, but I'd like personal recommendations better. Help would be appreciated.
I'm trusting you folks...
I'd been signed up, and ready to go for weeks. Months, even. However, I end up passing up the MilBlog Conference. Funds are running way too low for me to hit this, and go next week to Tejas. Maybe this will work out for the best... I'm strongly considering hitting another job fair... nay, HIRING fair... in another state. Think corn... and dull ass uniforms for the college football team.
This really sucks. I was so looking forward to hanging out with some of my favorite folks, blog family and friends. Had also been hoping to meet a couple from Phillie...
Oh, well. That's life in the big city.
April 19, 2006
Toast Or Brick?
You order toast, how do expect it? Lightly browned, or a potential adobe brick?
How about garlic bread? Browned, or teeth bustingly baked?
I've been told that I am in the minority with my preferences, lightly browned, and still chewable.
I don't think so, but if so, I'm sorry that you are all wrong.
Hmmm... sounds like Austria may be the place to be.
A hog gives his life, for our nourishment and health. His life cut short, while meat is in prime condition. Chops, bacon, hams... mmmmmmm.
The least we can do to honour his slaughter is to cut thick slice bacon. This thin shit is a total disgrace...
April 16, 2006
Happy Easter, to all of you who celebrate, and Happy Sunday to all of you pagan bastards who don't!!
Well, I've risen, but I've got to be honest, and say, "I wish I was dead." Damn, I'm hurting.
The past few days haven't been an excercise in wisdom. Thursday and Friday, I walked the steps of Lowden... Friday was to stretch out the sore calves from the day before. That was a brilliant move. Friday evening, Contagion and I set out to alleviate the Guinness overstock at Hooters. We finished up at his local watering hole, and I ended up crashing at his place. I slept well, but fast, waking only a couple of times, once to a vicious attack from his (actually, Ktreva's) cat. I woke up feeling a little shakey, but not too awful. Just weak. After watching a couple episodes of Spongebob, and having a quick breakfast, I headed home to catch at least 15 winks.
As soon as I entered my house, I had a feeling of "I know I'm supposed to be doing something, but I can't remember what." It quickly became, "I'm supposed to be somewhere..." I was focused on hitting the hay, when the phone rang. It was a friend, asking when I was going to head over to help build their deck. Aha! I told them to give me about forty five minutes or so, and I'd be right over.
I got there, and found that they had the frame of the deck finished (no, I wasn't that late), with about the only thing left being the deck boards and railings. Easy. I love doing this stuff anyway, but when it's at this stage, it's all gravy. Usually.
I was still feeling weak, and while walking on the joists, my legs began to shake... Add the constant squatting and standing, and my legs became worthless. Heh... when I tried to drop down to the ground between the joists, I ended up going through a lot faster than planned when my legs gave out. Got a pretty nice mark from that, even catching myself. I was lucky... my friend's grandfather stepped on a wrong board, and dropped through. He was a mass of scrapes and bruises. As a matter of fact, as I was leaving (after only a few hours), I heard he was being taken to the ER. Hopefully all is well with him. That's a tough old guy, and to have him suggest making that trip is not a good sign.
Contagion and Ktreva had come down to visit Tammi, so I ran over there to mooch some steaks. Sproingtagion had brought along some beer to try, so we went out on the stoop, and gave it a shot. Let me give you a tip, if I may: DO NOT TRY CAMO SILVER ICE HIGH GRAVITY LAGER!!! Trust Contagion and me. And if you don't, go ahead and Google it. Read the reviews. Not many are as nice as mine. "Swill made by evil people" is one phrase that I remember.
This stuff gives off a warning when you first open it... it stinks. Badly. Very badly. The first sip makes you shudder, but after that, you only have to worry about puking. High gravity, my ass... the stuff just seems to begging to be launched. I will say, by the time you hit the bottom of the can, it was tasting good, but that's only because you knew that the experience was about to be over.
Why would someone drink that? Well, because it's 9% alcohol, folks think it's a good quick drunk. When Contagion picked it up, he had hopes, but he knew that it most likely going to suck. You should always try new things, though, right? Yeah, but I'll tell you, it'll be a while before I do something like that again... not that today's pain has anything to do with that. It doesn't.
That can be chalked up to my incredible brightness...
April 14, 2006
I've been out in the woods the past couple of days, walking, and attracting bugs. I keep a constant eye out for one that I particularly dislike... ticks. The little bastards "bug" the hell out me.
They always seem to show up hours after you've been outside, and I don't know how many times I've woke up feeling one of them crawling in my hairline, or on my leg. The little blood suckers creep me out. But they do inspire a question... actually, two.
Where is the strangest place you've discovered a tick? No, not tic.
And, how do you go about removing a tick that's already embedded... in a scrotum?
Hell... it's hell today. Rain last night, 84o today. It's unlawful, and one of the highest sins. It's APRIL for Gott's sake!!!
Factor in my kitchen area is getting a new roof... black rubber roof... applied with torches. My house is a blast furnace...
I may quite possibly die. Good thing Contagion and I are going to be out consuming beers and hot wings/shrimp. The house may be a little cooler, and perhaps my death will only last for a couple of days...
I will rise again...
April 11, 2006
Pebbles? No... frickin' rocks. Boulders, more so.
How else to explain what keeps stopping my mental wheels from turning?
I drink beer, but I appreciate booze of all kinds... I'm an equal opportunity imbiber. I've even been known to toss out a bit extra when it comes to cost. Hey, if it's worth it, it's worth it.
But a "g" for a mint julep? Mr. Bingley, from Coalition of the Swilling, beat me by a couple lengths in posting about these "special" drinks. Made with mint from Morocco, ice from the Arctic Circle, and sugar from the South Pacific, Mr. Bingley says, "Now if only the stirrers had been used to club seals, it would be perfect."
Well, we may have a money maker here... if we can use splinters from my souvenirs of my clubbin' days. Ah... those were good times... oh... anyway, we've got about 25 days 'til the race... I think I can carve two or more a day, and sell them for the low low everyday price of $200 each. The proceeds of course going to a very good cause... trust me.
And while it's not like the good old days, you can club seals here.
April 10, 2006
So how does one stay awake while on the road, when overly tired? Well, Altoids, gum, and tunes. (And, just between you and me, because some folks get a little worked up over it, Jolt cola.) Seriously. It works. Especially listening to the cool, cordial, croonings of Tommy Araya and the gentlemen of Slayer (new album rumored to be coming out in June... YESSSS!!!), and the smooth swinging syncopations of that masked nonet, Slipknot. High volumes are a plus...
Oh, hey... that reminds me. Since Harvey explained to us why he blogs, and provided us with a picture of himself (see below the fold), I've had a certain song going through my head, over and over... and over. While driving, I heard a different version, one I had forgotten about, but I think it fits the little freak better than the original. What think you?
I posted the image meme a short time ago, tagging the victims with this e-mail:
"I haven't been doing very good at keeping up with blogs, so I've decided to make up for it by punishing you guys with a meme. Heheheh...Believe it or not, I've had four answer, and, while not discounting Yabu or Alex and their answers... yet, anyway... I figure that I owe drinks to the following:
I'd say that you don't really have to do it, but I won't. Do it, or no drinks when we meet...
Peace out, peeps, and take care."
Now I've just got to get together with them... I can remedy one of them very soon. And if you don't drink, that's cool... I'll point and laugh while drinking your beer. But I will buy ya whatever you want. Within reason. Very little reason.
Where Am I?
Okay, see if you can guess where I am...
Nope, not under the desk. I'm home, safe and sound for a couple of days. Got alot of running to get done today, and tons of work to do in the next couple of days. Might still be limited on my posting.
April 09, 2006
Holy shit, am I tired!
I just tried to move my cursor over to a flag's grommet on the wall.
This may be a bad day for a drive...
I've been doing piss poor when it comes to keeping up with others' blogs. I hate it. I feel like I'm out of the loop...
Anyway, I'm drawing a total blank this morning, as far as writing a post. I've had some great ideas, and I do have to tell you about the past week, but it ain't working. I think my brain has moved, and everytime I sit down to blog, I've cut the bloodflow off.
April 07, 2006
The storms pass through, and the green shows even more. The drab colors of death associated with winter are being forced back into hiding, as the new leaves begin to push their way into life. The hills are showing colorful swatches of green, with white and purple blossoms of dogwoods splattered across the scene. In the trees, the faux grapes of wisteria are hanging, dispensing their fragrance as the smell of decay from last year's leaves is driven away.
It's springtime, here in the massive meth lab known as Missouri/Arkansas... a very beautiful thing. Spring, that is... I've yet to see a meth lab. Not really in a hurry to, either. I can't understand why someone does a drug because they have nothing else to do, but all it does is keep them awake for longer periods of time with still nothing to do. Methodists... they're funny peeps. Perhaps I'm missing something...
Anyway, it's spring. Time for the wretched serpents to uncoil, and wait in hiding for unsuspecting drunkards. Time for the swarms of flies and chiggers to attack... by the time the flaming spiders return to the July skies, folks just won't want to be outside much... the early pleasures of spring not appealing anymore.
But, Hey... it's beautiful as hell right now. (That is... if hell were really beautiful.) I guess that's what matters...
April 04, 2006
April 03, 2006
Want to head to Munich, Germany, for Oktoberfest?
What If God...
Last night, I watched that house makeover show. I don't remember the name of it, but it's host is way too wired, or slightly insane. They go around destroying people's houses, and then remodelling, or rebuilding them. It was alright...
Anyway, during one of the commercial breaks, it looked as if they were going to rebuild a church, which got me thinking. How would they hide their project from Him... do they make some special bus? And, if Gott were to have a house built, what special appliances, or features, would he desire?
While I haven't a clue on the first one, I did come up with something for the second one, and figured that it would be a good question to pass along to you. I'm thinking that in His home gym, J would want a water treadmill, so he could stay in shape and walk on water in the privacy of his own home.
So... if we were going to build a new house for Him, what do you think we should include?
April 02, 2006
Thor, Donar, Taranis... and T1G
Well, that was a kickass drive...
For the most part, last night was fairly clear, but the last two hours were driving through some serious storms. I love that shit... although going through it in a car certainly is a little lacking. Being outside during it all leaves a feeling of "sharing it with the gods." Sitting inside is like, "ooooh.... pretty."
Those who were long before us, they worshipped many gods, lightning and/or thunder being one of them. Right or wrong, it doesn't matter. When you are out in the storm, you see just where they got their beliefs. And, as I told Eric the last time I was down there, you can see the gods themselves. Of course, that could be the absinthe...
When I was stationed in Lejeune, we occasionally made trips on long liberties that could have been considered "out of bounds..." we drove to a buddy's house in Texas. 21 hour trip, it was. One of my favorite parts of the drive was a stretch through Louisiana... it always seemed to storm when we went through, and we always went through at night. There were some spectacular light shows, especially when you were outside, riding in the back of the pickup, looking up. You never got wet, because of the speed of the truck forcing the rain over top of you.
There were times when you actually could see their faces up there, cheeks flushed as they bellowed in rage, long arms of lightning reaching down to destroy the little pissants who'd failed to give the proper respect. I'd watch as they took turns visiting their wrath upon the Earth. Occasionally, one would take another's turn, and the rage would temporarily be moved skyward. But being as gods can't die, they'd turn their attentions back to man. I did not envy the bastards who had so enraged them.
When I rode down to Eric's last year, I went through some very serious stuff. High winds, lightning to either side, and thunder with each flash... it was that close. After I had to stop in one area, because of a wreck, one of the EMT's told me that they had just had a tornado go through. Talk about sweet. Oh, and the best part... I was on the bike. Not the first time I've ridden like that, but probably the most memorable one... but it won't be the last, either.
And just last month, when I was on my tour of the south, I got to witness some seriously pissed off gods. Heheheh... at one point, I even caught myself muttering, "I haven't done anything. I'm glad they ain't pissed at me..." Coming out of Memphis and heading towards Birmingham did indeed look ugly. I'm thinking that Montgomery is where the action was at, but all along 78, there was evidence that they had recently been through there, as well. Signs bent and broken, all along the "future I - 22 corridor." The faces could again be seen...
Last night, when I got down here, I stood outside, on top of the hill, and watched... the lightning within arms' grasp. And as I watched, I remembered one of the dieties from the Louisiana skies, who had looked down at me lying in the bed of that truck, winked, and said, "Watch how it's done, boy," as he knocked the top off of one of the trees along the interstate. I think the bastard was here, too, taunting me... keeping the bolts just out of my reach.
I can't wait to get ahold of one o' dem... I'll show them how it's done.