Outta Shape

It was pointed out, on my last trip home, that this stay in Florida seems to have done me some good. This was told to me by numerous folks, and I can't really argue with that.

I now drink well over a gallon of water a day (you have to, or you'll die), flushing out the ol' system. From what I understand, this is good for you.

I am a Coke fiend (not the powder, but the soft drink... and the specific brand, not all soft drinks), and I used to guzzle 6 to 18 cans in a day, when the mood struck. Down here, I haven't had a Coke in... well, a long time. I can't remember having one. I'm told this is good for you, as well. The "no coke," not the fact that I can't remember. That could be both good and bad.

My blood pressure seems to have dropped, though that's kinda hard to tell. But the old "bloody nose" indicator hasn't been going off lately. And I feel a bit better, too. Kinda suprising with the frenzy that always seems to be going on.

Finally, my beer intake has dropped drastically. I usually only drink on Thursday nights, when I head out to the local watering hole with my cousin in law. That's not exactly every week, either. This has been said to be a good thing, but I'm thinking that it's closer to a sin.

So, I'm down here feeling good, getting healthier, working out regularly with the CIL. (Hell, once it cools down a little more, I'll be rulking... already laid out a three mile route.) This should be a good thing. In the big picture, I'm sure that it is. But in the "I'd like to go out Friday and get stupid drunk" picture, this is bad. Gott im Himmel, is this bad. Actually, Throbbing Headache in the Morning, is this bad.

All this good health is bad for one trying to stay in drinking shape...

Go 'Tagion

Today is the 45th birthday of one of the biggest Bear Fans I know... Contagion Swerski, one of the original super fans. "I tell ya... in a fight between Lombardi and Ditka, Da Coach would spank da Packer guy like a little girl."

Contagion acts like he hates birthdays, but it would mean the world to him if you stopped by and did the birthday dance for him.

Go 'Tagion, It's your birfday...

On Hold

Customer Service Rep: Hello. This is Steve, how may I help you? Uh huh... Oh, yes... I see. Okay, if you could give me your account number, I'll pull your information. Okay, let me read that back to you. 1234 567 8901 234. Is this correct? Okay... please hold while I access your account.

Steve leans back in his chair, and checks his fingernails. Seeing that they've gotten a little too long for a professional look, he opens his top drawer, extracts his clippers, and begins trimming. When finished, he picks up the phone again.

I'm terribly sorry, sir... our computer system is a bit slow today. Please bear with us...
Thanks for holding...

Steve grins to himself, and begins humming. "Mmmm Mmmmm Mmmm Mmmmm.... Mmmm Mmmmm Mmmmm Mmmm... Once there was this girl... who... wouldn't go acclaim and do the whirly dirly doo... Hey, Brian! Hey, man... do you know how that song goes? You know, that Dumb Crash Testers song."
Brian looks at him for a second, then realization hits him. "Oh, you mean the Crash Test Dummies song, Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm?"
Steve: "Yeah, man. I don't know what comes after 'Whirly dirly doo.'"
Brian: "Whirly dirly doo? What the hell song are you singing?"
Steve sings it to him, Brian busts up laughing, then says, "Dude, you've got to be King Tard. That part of the song goes something like,
'Once there was this girl who
Wouldn't go and change with the girls in the change room
But when they finally made her
They saw birthmarks all over her body
She couldn't quite explain it
They'd always just been there

Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm
Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm.'

Heheheh... Whirly Dirly Doo.. what a frickin' moron!"

Steve grins sheepishly and then says, "Hey, I only listen to music... not lyrics. Hang on a second... I've got a call on hold."
Brian looks back at his cubicle. "Dude, so do I. It's been twenty minutes. I better get back to them."
Steve nods, then picks up the phone again.

Sir, are you sure you gave me the correct account number? I can't seem to find your account. Could you read that to me again?
Ah... 234... I'm sorry sir, I kept trying to enter 233. Heheheh... please hold while I try to access you account again. Thanks

Steve goes online, and starts playing this game. After another wasted fifteen minutes, he pulls up the account, and then picks up the phone again.

Okay, sir. I need to verify your information. Can I have your social, street address, and date of birth?
Thank you. Please hold while I verify...

"Hey, Brian... c'mere! Hahahah... this guy is getting pissed! Listen, and I'll take him off hold for a second..."
Brian listens, grins, and then says, "Is it even possible for one to do that to themselves? Damn... I swear I heard teeth breaking! You've got him good. You think he'll hang up?"
"Nah... I've got him where I want him. He hangs up, and he's got to go through this all over again..."

Steve shows Brian his high score on the game he'd been playing, and finally says, "Here we go... time to piss this guy off some more."

He picks up the phone....

I guess I don't need to tell you folks how I've been spending the week...

Not Quite

Damnit. Just when you thought...

Disoriented

It's been crazy around here. Lots of stuff going down, and hardly any of it is blogable. If that's even a word.

Gotta love it. I find that my family runs long on ADD. Nope, not my bloodline, theirs. Thanks be to Gott. Trying to have a conversation is interesting when you never finish your sentences, and the subject changes faster than you can even imagine. I'd laugh about it, if it wasn't so damn disorienting.

My youngest brother, unaware of how it can be around here, sent me a clip showing that ADHD can be cured. Heheheh... it would be great if it were so simple.

Not The Crotch Variety

I heard a great tune the other day, courtesty of Richard, of Shadowscope. I won't say that it's stuck in my head, but everytime I start humming it, I can't help but grin.

Check it out. It starts out kinda lame, but the ending just busts me up.

Don't thank me, thank Richard. He's your new hero.

Boxed Ear

Sissy and Bou have been playing a bit of bug poker. Sissy's latest tale was declared the winnah over Bou's Sleeping With The Roaches. I don't claim to have a better tale, or even think that it's in their class, but it reminded me of my own story. Not being a roach story, it's kinda lame.

In the Midwest (and probably elsewhere), each fall sees an invasion of our homes. Especially in the rural areas. No matter what you do, you will always find a guest or two inside your house. Along the south facing walls, they gather in the hundreds, and around my house, the thousands.

I had worked a long shift this night, and I slept the sleep of the dead when I finally got home and showered up. After about an hour, I was awakened by a loud rustling. I sat up, turned on the lights, and looked around. Nothing. So I lay back down.

Just as I was drifting back to sleep, I heard it again. Again, I found nothing. So I waited.

Sure enough, after I had settled down again, I heard it again. This time it positively roared. It sounded like it was in my head, and I soon figured out, it was.

I got dressed to go to the ER, and as I was moving around, it happened again. As soon as I heard the rustling, I lost my balance... the damn thing was against my eardrum. I shit you not.

The drive to the ER was interesting to say the least, but at least the hospital was just over a mile away. There, they tried to remove the bug by using some kind of oil. It didn't work... it started pushing up against my eardrum, driving me nuts! Meanwhile, they tried a couple different methods to get it out, but none worked. Finally, the damn thing died, and they used a small vaccuum to extract it.

What was it? Why, it was a box elder bug. Okay... that's a shot that makes them look huge. This shot give a better idea of their size. From what I understand, it was a freak incident... they don't usually crawl into ears.

Perhaps I should have bought a lottery ticket.

Category 7

I just got done watching Category 7. Good Gott. Do not watch this film, unless you have consumed plenty of beer, and removed any sharp objects from near your wrists. It is four hours of your life that will be totally wasted, unless you, yourself, are wasted enough to enjoy it.

Gina Gershon stars as the newly appointed head of FEMA, but even that doesn't help the flick. Nothing can help it, unless you watch it with the intent to fisk the whole damn thing. We had fun laughing at it.

However, we did learn what to do when the big storms do hit... shut off the power. It works miracles, folks.

Jeebus. Maybe looking at Gina might help...

Nope. Still doesn't improve the memories of that flick.

Jackass

A few years ago, I went to the theatre to catch Jackass: The Movie. While some of the stunts and bits pissed me off, my inner six year old (who's really in command) loved most of it. Hell... even some of the stunts that pissed me off had me laughing later.

The new one is coming out, and I'm afraid that I'm going to have to see it... cartoons being a major inspiration for some of the stunts. Check out this interview:

I know it's immature. But it looks damn funny.

Sabotage

Heheheh... Poor Shoe... her blog has fallen into the hands of Redneck's 'Necks. Head on over to check out the carnage, and a gratuitous beaver shot. Posted by yours truly.

Me Be A Jerk

One of the cool things about working in the shop is meeting some of the folks that dealt with my uncle. Some pretty brilliant minds, there be. Inventors and entrepreneurs, and some guys that are just a blast with which to deal. Real characters.

I recently met one of the guys who had been tossing some business ideas to my uncle. Supposedly, my uncle had been seriously considering working with the guy. I don't believe that. While my uncle may have thought the ideas sound, I would bet money that he did not care for the guy. I can't stand him.

Perhaps it's just me, and maybe he's not really the way that I take him. I mean... I have discovered that I'm kind of a jerk.

There was a big party, awhile back (some of you may remember it), and my aunt took me along... a chance to meet some new folks and possibly get in line for some work with some of the business owners. Again, I had a pretty good time, with a couple of exceptions. One of them being the asshole who'd dump his beer in the pool, and the other, the guy to whom I refer above.

Now, I've got to be fair, and say right out, I've never met the guy. Not actually. See, everytime my aunt tried to introduce me, and explain that I was helping her with the business, the guy would turn his back on me. Three times he did this, like I was not even there. He wouldn't even look at me. I just laughed at him. Meantime, he's trying to convince my aunt to let him have copies of our build sheets, so he can line some assembly shop up. Thankfully, she doesn't trust him. She acted interested, and then left at the first chance she got.

Last night, at the bar with my cousin-in-law, I saw the guy. Of course, I was stupid enough to say something about "the big, fat, pile of shit who can't look anyone lower than him in the eye," and was again shushed. Apparently, that's not very nice. Maybe they're right.

I probably should have called him "Obese" instead of fat.

Mega Memory...

Eric made mention of being able to remember his first phone number, and some of his readers did, too, in the comments. Hell, we moved when I was twelve, and I can tell you the addresses and phone numbers of each of the four houses I lived in for the first twenty odd years of my life. (Yeah, I know... I should have emphasized odd. Ha. Ha. Ha.) 9086, 2497, 8656, 6873, 876, 8913, and 2014, 0923.

I'm not trying to take from the fact that Eric remembers his childhood number. Rather, I mention that, and then point out that I can't remember the last place I lived, street number or phone number. I can't even remember my cell phone number, as I just discovered in replying to an email.

Funny how the mind works... or doesn't.

Venting

There are times that you get home, after a stressful day, and you need to let off a little steam. Gott help the bastard, or bastards, who interrupt...

In this NSFW piece, somebody makes a stick figure version of me. It's pretty damn close.

I'll see ya all after I post bond.

A Prod

Craig Cottage.

Backfire

"Yeeaaaaaaarrrrrrr Haaaaaaarrr Fiiiiddlllleeeeey Deeeeeee....
Beeeeeinnn' aaaa piiiirrrraaaattte iissss aallrrriiiiight toooo mmmeee..."

Aaaaarrrr... me cannons is spiked!

I fired off a salvo of earworms, and blowed meself out of the water! Avast, all blessed day I be singin' a sartain song to meself. A dubloon says ye scurvy sea dogs can guess which song, and which version it be...

And if they stuck in your skull, blame that bilge rat, Zounkaar, for providing the lively tunes...

Pirate's Day

Yar, ye scurvy bearin' type dogs! Today be Talk like a Pirate Day!!!

Whether ye be a talkin' sponge, a Icelander, or a trippin' hippy, today ye are all pirates!

Mincemeat Pie

Well, ladies and gents... it's happened. I sit here in stunned silence. How could he have known? Roy Williams (not the Cowboys' DB, but the Lions' WR) boldly predicted that, "We will win this game. Y'all can take that as a guarantee or whatnot, but we will win this game." He was referring to the game against the Chicago Bears. The game today. And this was after pointing out how the Lions almost scored 40 points in their 9 - 6 loss to Seattle.

Williams and the Lions improved their play considerably. No kidding. Having only 3 catches, 36 yards, and Gott only knows how many imagined touchdowns last week, Williams had 6 catches for 71 yards in today's game. The Lions' offense showed that they were capable of more than last week's results, too. I am not sure how many points they almost scored, but it was a slaughter in Chicago.

Or it would have been, if the score wasn't really Chicago 34, Detroit 7.

Roy, you're a young player with plenty of talent, and much to learn. I hope you learned a lesson from this:

KEEP YOUR FRICKIN' PIE HOLE SHUT!!!

Kansas and Back

After a hurried trip home, and a long drive back, things are right back to "normal." Busy, busy, busy. But that's a good thing. I think. The only thing that really sucks is that my blogging isn't what I'd like it to be. Oh, I know... the writing has always sucked. But I haven't really been able to read all of the blogs that I would like. That sucks.

The trip home was along the same lines. Alot of folks that I wanted to see and visit with, and I only was able to hit about half of them. Time is nobody's friend on a short trip like that.

I did manage to hook up with quite a few members of my family, and a couple of bloggers. Some bar friends, too. It was much needed.

In addition to hooking up with Tammi and Richmond, I also got to meet up with Contagion and Ktreva to watch the Bears/Packers game. And drink some beer, of course. The Bears squeaked out a victory, but I took no real pleasure in watching the agony on their faces. They aren't your "arrogant asshole fan" types. Contagion may be an asshole, but he's not an asshole fan. And that means something. What? I don't know.

They were the last folks that I was able to get together with before I left.

While travelling, I try to meet as many folks as possible. Well, without being a pain in the ass. I managed to hook up with my brother in Tennessee, who pressured me into drinking. It's always good to stop by Eric's place. He may not be blood, but he is kin. That's a damn good guy there, as most all of you know. I wish I could have been there for a longer time, as we'd have come up with all kinds of interesting theories... no, facts. Unfortunately, I got there late, and had to leave early. If you consider 10 am early, as I do.

The following morning, I was off on my way again. That day, I was to meet up with two bloggers... who are actually one. Alabama Improper, and c.a.Marks, met with me for lunch, in Huntsville, Alabama. After driving until things looked right, I met up with her at one of her favorite diners. Good food, and a great visit. Too bad that she had to head back to work. Next time I'm through your area, Alabamarks, we've gotta do it again.

I left there, stomach full, and eyelids heavy, dodging Atlanta by heading down 65 to Montgomery, and then on down through Dothan. Needless to say, I caught a few winks on the way. I ended up trying to call some bloggers, and finally got ahold of Oddybobo, and then Army Wife. They helped me stay awake, and for that, I thank them. Besides... it was cool chatting with them anyway.

Once I hit the AL/FL state line, the rains started, in the hopes to make me pass right out. I fought it all the way back here, but it did kick my buttocks. Especially the right one... I forgot to remove my wallet from my back pocket. Unfortunately, I'm unable to upload any pics, so you won't get a pic of the bruise. :)

While it's good to be back here, and have things taking off, it was great being home. Heel clicking aside, Dorothy had it right.

Wrong Place...

I am here. Not here.

"O'zapft Is!!!" And I get none.

Damn.

Bliss

I know some of ya are curious about my trip home, and the wedding of my cousin. I'm a little low on time, so I'll jes' let you know about the wedding.

Total. Clusterfuck.

The bride was late by almost an hour, the pastor did not get a chance to preach. (Well, I guess that part worked out okay.) The receiving line took forever to get through, but that's pretty much normal. However, running late as we were, the reception, located about thirty five minutes away and in the middle of nowhere, started late. Food was served late. To those who got to eat. They ran out. Thank Gott for bier.

By the time the meal was done, it was 9:30. The guests had to leave by 11:00. There was an hour and a half to do all the regular activities and have the dance. No need to say how that went.

My cousin had been pissed, but he could not stop grinning. His bride was the same. You know, that's all that matters.

I was told by my cuz that he couldn't figure out why no one stuck around. Looking at him, I could not bring myself to tell him why. I was not about to ruin their day.

Wedded bliss... in the end, that's all that mattered. Congratulations, and the best of luck to both of them.

Here

Got into Apollo Beach at 2 this morning... I r beat.

Catch ya later this evening.

Rahma Salie

The attacks of 9/11 will never be forgotten, nor will most of us forget what we were doing, where we were, or the feelings that flooded through us when we first heard the news. Our thoughts, fears, feelings, and ideals were solid, etched in stone. For some of us that hadn't known someone murdered that day, time has a way of wearing those firm and definite edges away, dulling some of those memories. Not good.

I did not know anyone taken that day. But I heard about a special project, 2,996 Tribute, and signed up. I drew Rahma Salie. I've only "known" her for a couple of weeks, but her death has affected me. Deeply.

Rahma, of Sri Lankan descent, was born to Yuseff and Haleema Salie in Japan, February, 1973. She went to an international school there, before coming here in 1992, to Wellesley College, where she majored in International Relations, and Japanese studies. She was a consultant in an IT firm, and rose to the position of Chief Operating Officer.

While attending Wellesley, Rahma met Michael Theodoridis, who was attending Boston University. They fell in love, and Michael, a Greek Orthodox Christian, converted to Islam before marrying his bride in 1998. "They were very much in love. They wouldn't do anything without each other," her father said. "There was never anything but a smile on their faces." One article I read called them inseperable.

When I first saw the picture of Rahma, I couldn't help but grin. You can see the love she's got for her husband, but you could also look at her, and just know that she was someone that you wanted to know. Needed to know. One of her Wellesley schoolmates said in a forum, "I bet you could also hear the sound of her laugh while looking at her picture." I could.

She was a very outgoing person, leaving a positive impression on all that she met. Vibrant, successful, hardworking, and driven. Sweet, radiant, loyal, and loving. All words that were used to describe her. I really would have liked to meet her.

On September 11, 2001, Rahma and Michael boarded American Airlines Flight 11, heading to Los Angeles for a friend's wedding. They were not alone. Rahma was seven months pregnant with their first child.

Many of the sites providing lists provide vague info, such as: Rahma Salie was from Boston. Or, Rahma Salie, expectant mother, and consultant. It bugs me. She deserved much more.

Rahma, you will not be forgotten by me. I wish I had known you, sister.

If someone reading this knew Rahma, and has more info, please let me know. Thanks.

Joe

Angie, of My Life & Chaos, has a tribute to Rahma's husband, Micky.

Tributes...

Perusing the blogroll today, I read many posts and tributes about 9/11, as could be expected. While we must move on, it must never be forgotten. I was suprised to see so many bloggers that I know and read had taken part in The 2,996 Tribute. Not all of these are part of the 2,996 project, but all introduce us to someone taken from us, five years ago. I only managed to go through one of my sidebars, and check out a couple of regular reads, and these are what I found:

Philip L. Parker was remembered by Cat.
Ramzi Doanywas remembered by AW.
Matthew "Matty" Lancelot Ryan and Cyril Richard "Rick" Rescorla were remembered by Blackfive.
Don Simmons was remembered by Bou.
Valerie Joan Hanna was remembered by Shoe.
Mr. Bingley remembers his friends, John Resta And Sylvia San Pio Resta.
Darya Lin was remembered by Dizzy Girl.
Lt. Geoffrey Gujawas remembered by Elisson.
Kevin McCarthy was remembered by Nancy.
Brendan Dolan was remembered by Richard.
Calvin Dawson was remembered by Eric.
Carol Keyes Demitz was remembered by Teresa.
Sarah Khan was remembered by Jimmyb.
Isidro Ottenwalder was remembered by RSM.
Allison Horstmann-Jones was remembered by Michele.
Kirsten L. Christophe was remembered by Alabama Improper.
Paul Robert Eckna was remembered by Misha.
Gregory Sikorsky was remembered by Frank J.
Davin Peterson was remembered by AFSister.
Marion Ruth Britton was remembered by Cathy.
Steven Lawrence Glick was remembered by Always On Watch.
Kevin Wayne Yokum was remembered by Raven.
Maria Jakubiak was remembered by Mrs. Who.
James Sands Jr. was remembered by Sgt. B.
Capt. Louis Joseph Modafferi was remembered by Jody.
Patrick O'Keefe was remembered by Sticks.

All were great tributes, but Michele also wrote a tribute to her friend, Larry, and a post about a final conversation with Larry, and another friend, Mike, that had me sitting motionless in my chair, fighting back tears. In the dead silence, I realized that I was not breathing.

Be sure to check these out, and get to know some people who should never be forgotten.

Another Mirror

Looking for the list of those remembered by the 2,996 Tribute? The site has been hammered, as far as bandwidth, and it is occasionally going down.

I noticed at another site has posted a mirror listing, and since I have bandwidth available, and hardly any visitors using it, I figured that I would try to help out, and do the same.

Click here for the 2996 list... it's nothing fancy, but it'll get you the info you wanted.

If you've got a specific name you're looking for, once on the page, click CONTROL + f, and type the name in the box.

Cutting Gems

Damn, it was nice to be out on the bike yesterday. A beautiful day for riding, though a bit warm. Hey, at least it wasn't humid like Florida has been. I thought it dry, but was told otherwise...

I got home on Wednesday, and each day has been awesome. Wednesday night, I even had to sleeping under a blanket... it got down to 55. Perfect! First time that I've been able to sleep under covers all summer, except for when I've travelled. And I'm one of those folks that needs to have something draped over them, a sheet at the least, in order to sleep well.

Anyway, like I said, each day has been just beautiful. I'm seriously beginning to think that the rumoured "flooding" was some kind of hoax. A ploy to pull national sympathy (and maybe even money) to our little communist state. I've seen no rain... not hardly even a cloud in the sky. At least, until this morning. It looks as if there may be a small chance of some precipitation. Hopefully, I'll be able to push it off until tomorrow. I've got that wedding that I need to go to this afternoon... don't want to muss my long locks. Heheheh...

Okay, I'm drifting a little bit, like I've a tendency to do. At times. Heheheh... a fine example is the "Giving Birth" post. That was originally supposed to be about a guy sitting across from me, hammering away on his Blackberry, or Treo... it reminded me of the early hand held electronic games by Mattel. Especially, the football games. You had to be quick as hell with your thumbs to do well on those games. Man, they were a blast! Not really sure how I ended up writing about some poor bastard's pooping problems. Oops... drifted again. I must be a bit tired.

So it was great being out in the open, enjoying the sun and the sights of home. And, like the post below, the smells of home. The smell of fall is already in the air. In Florida, there is no such thing as fall, unless you're talking about what happens after one drinks too much. Up here, it's still early yet, but you can smell the grains as you drive past the fields, the last crop of hay that's been cut. Occasionally, you can catch the smell of burning brush and leaves, though I doubt that many of those leaves are from this year. This year's colors haven't fallen, yet. Hell, they haven't even turned, though you can see that it's not too far off. Not far at all.

I took backroads when I had the time and chances, and got to smell the rural scents... fresh cut hay, corn cut for silage, the smell of the woods as I rode beneath a canopy of trees. All those scents, mixed with the scent of exhaust and unburned fuel... it was heavenly. I don't know for sure if I should say it, but what the hell. I was so damn excited that my nipples were hard. I mean, I could have found employ as a diamond cutter. It was so damn good to be out on the Green Beast.

I rode up to Janesville, and hooked up with my youngest brother. We visited for awhile, but he was on his lunch hour, so he had to bolt. So from there, I rode on up to see Richmond... we had a nice visit out on the patio. Well, until the German yellowjackets started hanging out... Richmond got stung. I was proud of her... no blubbering, or crying at all. Just one crazy woman. She chased them all away, swinging a citronella bucket, screaming epithets, and laughing maniacally. It was exciting. Not quite jeweler grade exciting, but exciting nonetheless.

I'd also tried to get ahold of a certain bearded freak, and his wife, but they were wisely screening their calls. Ah, well... next time I won't give them warning.

I did hook up with some more family, and managed to get home just before dark. Which was good... I didn't have a jacket, and it can get a bit cool riding through some areas. It could go without saying, but it makes your nipples hard. Again, not quite jeweler grade.... And after riding around in an excited state for much of the day, and the chafing, the nipples do become a bit sensitive. Which throws you into a Catch 22 that I shouldn't need to describe...

All in all, it was a damn good day.

Aroma Therapy

Sitting in my own chair, watching the red sun crawl slowly over the treeline, SRV playing on the stereo, lost in my thoughts. Should be a good day... it's been a great morning.

Funny how Rem Oil can take you back in time. Memories of shooting, hunting, friends. Comforting, if not relaxing. And while not CLP, you're reminded of the rush you felt after hitting the bullseyes at 500 m.

I'd share more, but I've gotta try to get the bike started.

Mission accomplished. Bike fired up, and I'm going to ride up to see family, and hook up with some peeps. Sun's shining, a beautiful day. I told you it'd be a good day. *knock on head* (Don't want to tempt Mr. Murphy into causing me to wreck. Heheheheh...)

Giving Birth...

You can see alot of strange things at the airport. There's alot of nice scenery, yes, but some of these peeps are strange folk. Just another reason that I like to travel.

Sometimes it's not just the things you see, but the things you hear.

A trip to the restroom leaves me with confused feelings. Yeah... I know that sounds weird. Ah, well. It ain't what it sounds like. Or maybe it is... I don't know. I'm confused, as I said.

I'm standing there, obeying all men's room rules and etiquette, taking care of my business, when I hear a muffled noise. It grows steadily louder.

Now, I know it's probably considered a bit immature, but I couldn't help but start grinning. This poor guy was making all kinds of agonized noises, but when he started whimpering, that's when the confusion set in. I was still laughing, but I so wanted to kick the stall door open and knock the poor bastard in the head. Put him out of his misery.

But alas, restroom etiquette requires that one be able to shit in peace. He lives to shit another day.

WTF???

Yes, I'm behind in news and blogging, but I must be waaaaayyy behind. We've taken to flying a new flag over our post offices.

Click for the story

Swamped...

Nurse: "Time for your medication, Mr. Brown."
Mr. Brown: "BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!"

Intro to "Madhouse," by Anthrax

I ain't ignoring you, though it may seem like it. I've hardly a chance to do more than check emails, and maybe post. Maybe. It's truly been a madhouse here.

Many hours in the shop, emails to customers once I'm back home... it just keeps rolling.

Some of this was in preparation for this week... I'M GOING HOME! Yeah... it's only for a few days, but it'll be nice. There's a barstool at Fritz's, screaming my name.

It's time for some medication...

Nature

I've written about storms, and the rush they bring, before. Being outside during Mother Nature's light shows is a very powerful thing. While some fear her, she is willing to share some of that power... give us mortals a sampling.

Being down here in the "lightning capitol of the world," I get to watch her in action... alot. And I love it. I try my best to show her proper respect, and don't push my luck with her, but I love being outside as she throws her temper tantrums. Driving during these storms also kicks ass. The other day, not too far from Raymond James Stadium, I had a bolt of lightning hit about a half block away. The hair stood up on my arms, it was so close. The bolt ended up hitting the top of a pole, and burnt the top third. Very cool.

Mother Nature is always letting us feel of her power, giving us chances to get close to her. She is a savage beauty, and there is plenty of beauty in her savagery. It helps to draw us even closer. Get too close, however, and she will turn on you.

RIP, Steve Irwin... you made television worth watching.

Wipe Out

Consider the kitchen cleaning pad. One side is flat, and absorbant. Made for wiping down relatively clean surfaces. The other side is coarse, and ideal for removal of thicker, hard to remove "substances."

Now look at a regular "chadie" chip. It is relatively flat, but it will hold dip. However, it won't gather or hold dip like a ruffled chip.

Now... head for the can. Okay, grab some toilet paper, and ponder this: A folded sheet of bun wad provides a smooth surface. A wadded sheet provides a rough one. Both will do the trick, butt with the smooth (folded) sheet, you smear fecal debris as you attempt to remove it. The wadded sheet provides an ideal surface for removal of said debris. Fecal remains are scraped, rather than smeared.

There really isn't a wrong method to the wiping of one's bottom. Both methods will work just fine, as well as Mr. Debonair's 'Shitten Mitten,' but when you get right down to it, aside from the 'mitten,' the crumpling of the paper appears to be the wise choice. Best removal, with less handling of soiled paperwork.

BUTT... blog sister Boudicca has perhaps the best method of all...

"I rip off a big long piece and tie it into a bow, so its all nice and pretty... and I use that!"

I'm sure that I don't have to compare 'nads to dingleberries...

ST Institutionalized

Still busy as hell...

This brought back some good memories. Remember this?

The Interview...

Basil has posted my interview. Head on over to check it out.

Thanks to those of you who asked questions. I only hope that my answers are good enough... it's been a busy week, and I started rushing through them. My apologies.

For those of you bastards who didn't ask any questions, you oughta be ashamed... and "thank you." Anymore questions, and Basil would never have been able to post it.

And huge thanks to Basil for putting it all together. It was a blast!

Another TP Question

Absolutely no time for anything better, I'm going to take David Drake's suggestion, and ask:

Do you fold, or crumple, your toilet paper? Why?