October 31, 2007


Hope you have a great Halloween!

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October 28, 2007

The New History

People, and their revisionist memories, are kinda funny.

In the summer before the 2000 elections, work was slowing down for us. Orders were dropping off and temps were let go. Things were not good at the old "Big Blue Weenie."

There were plenty of mumblings about a possible recession.

One thing that didn't help matters was the inevitable exit of President Clinton. The upcoming elections had bred caution. Folks were waiting to see who was going to take the reins of the nation, and which direction we'd go. G.W. Bush turned out to be the man. After the election, things were still slowly dropping off for us. Things dropped into the shitter with 9/11 and the Enron scandal.

I was talking with a co-worker a couple of years later, and he was going off about how Dubya had dragged us into recession. I tried to point out that we were already sliding that way before he took the Presidency, but "Frank" was vehemently in denial. Clinton had left the country in tip top shape, and Bush trashed it.

My personal thoughts are that economies are cyclical. As they say, "What goes up, must come down." It's going to happen. I don't blame Clinton, and I don't blame Bush for it, though how the country is handled definitely affects the speed at which the cycle occurs.

Bah... I don't want to get political. I'm just trying to point out that "Frank" had totally forgotten how many of us were wondering how long we'd have a job by the time the elections were over, and it was one of the main reasons that he hated the current President.

Cue forward to this week.

I'm talking with a new co-worker, one who is very political and firm in his thoughts. That's cool. His ideas are his, mine are mine. I'm not going to try to dissuade him. Unless he is wrong in his facts.

He hates Bush. Bush is a stingy fuck who won't award the Medal of Honor to our brave servicemen (a discussion of Mike Murphy kicked this whole thing off). While he's glad that Murphy got the medal, he's pissed that it took so long. I'll admit, I would have thought he'd have gotten it sooner, too. But I point out, I thought that the President doesn't nominate warriors for the medal... it's either got to come up the chain of command, or Congress recommends it. The President gives the final approval, but how many recommendations have died on their way to him? And I'm pretty sure that if he were denying the award, the media would be quick to point it out. I'm "wrong". Could be. I wasn't too sure of what I told him at the time.

Dubya cut funding for parks and education in Texas, he says. He's a bastard for ruining all of the good that Ann Richards had done, he says. This may be true... I don't know how things are in Tejas. It's his opinion, and he's entitled to it. For the most part, I just sit and listen to him.

Then he gets to the recession discussion that I had with my old co-worker. I try to explain how it was in my area (Northern Illinois) at the time, and that we were already on the downward slide, at least as far as our company. Nope. I'm wrong. Could be. I'm not going to argue politics. "Bush brought the recession on." Okay.

"Clinton cut the deficit in half." Not arguing... I'm pretty damn sure he did, but I'm not going to open my mouth unless I know what I'm talking about.

"Clinton had to clean up the mess that George I made in Iraq." And he implied that it was Clinton who ended the war.

WHA??? Clinton was not President when the First Gulf War ended. Yes, troops were still being cycled over to the Middle East, but the war was long over.

"Clinton was President in '92." Okay, first, war done. Ended in February of '91. Second, Clinton was not President in 92. "Yes, he was..." and then some long explanation of all of the glorious things that he had done.

'92? You're smoking crack. I was in the Marines at the time, and I remember an officer, with whom I was going to FDC school, proclaiming that we had "stepped in it now," after reading that Clinton won the election. "No..." I'm wrong again.

I patiently listen to his explanation of why I'm wrong, slowly getting steamed, and then, when he's finished, I tell him, "Dude... let's do some simple math. The upcoming Presidential election is next year... 2008. Right? That means whoever gets elected President will take office in January of 2009, right? There's been two term Presidents, recently. Clinton, and Bush II. That's 16 years. When does that put the beginning of Clinton's reign?"

He stopped did the math, and then grinned. But it didn't shut him up for long...

Point to all of this is not too make fun of the guy, but to point out how many folk believe what they want, based on "facts" that just aren't. And from those "facts," comes a deep hatred.


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Snot Gonna Happen

Well, damn...

I had a great idea for a post, had pretty much figured out how the intro would be, and worked it all up in my head. I sat down to compose this masterpiece, and felt a trickle of snot. So I got up, grabbed a kleenex (not tissue), and blew my nose.

And my idea disappeared as fast as the mucus filled the kleenex.

I thought that perhaps I could read my ideas from the snot filled rag, but haruspex I am not.

Or snot.

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October 27, 2007


Time is supposed to heal all wounds. Apparently, its Aesculapian powers do not apply to making videos better.

Hope you enjoyed that...

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Hangin' Around

Here's a time killer for you.

Halloween Hangman.

I can't count how many times I've played this... and I've taken to messing up on purpose.

Tip of the mug to Tina

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October 22, 2007


Ever been told not to wear a hat indoors? It's considered bad manners... that's one of the reasons we're told this. There's another reason...

Self preservation. Sans hat is a chance for life. With hat? Well... chances are that you won't see the very solid, very unforgiving, very immovable shelf protruding from the wall at eyebrow level.

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I've always been fond of the intermission song from the movies... you know, "Let's go out to the lobby, let's go out to the lobby, let's go out to the lobby, and have ourselves a snack." Never really cared much for the intro music, though.

Over at Hammer's, he's posted a great intro song that I'd love to see in theatres. Unfortunately, we probably never will.

Check it out...

Tip of the mug to Jerry, who felt my name was written all over it

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October 21, 2007

Dunkin' Drunkards

A Sunday passage about baptism, passed along to me via email, by Carmen's ma, and Tammi.

You know it's gotta be serious.

A man is stumbling through the woods, totally drunk, when he comes upon a preacher baptizing people in the river. The drunk walks into the water and subsequently bumps into the preacher. The preacher turns around and is almost overcome by the smell of booze. Whereupon he asks the drunk, "Are you ready to find Jesus?"

"Yes I am" replies the drunk, so the preacher grabs him and dunks him in the river. He pulls him up and asks the drunk, "Brother have you found Jesus?"

The drunk replies, "No, I haven't." The preacher, shocked at the answer, dunks him into the water again, but for a bit longer this time. He pulls him out of the water and asks again, "Have you found Jesus, my brother?"

The drunk again answers, "Nope. I have not found Jesus."

By this time the preacher is at his wits end so he dunks the drunk in the water again, but this time he holds him down for about 30 seconds.

When the drunk begins kicking his arms and legs, the preacher pulls him up. The preacher asks the drunk again, "For the love of God, man! Have you found Jesus?"

The drunk wipes his eyes and catches his breath and says to the preacher,

"Are you sure this is where he fell in?"

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Carcass Fix

It's Sunday, and I've been awake since 05:20. Yeah... it may seem like a sin to be awake at such ungodly hours, but I've gotten a lot of stuff done. Dishes and laundry are caught up, with considerations of housecleaning running through (and then right out of) my head, and I've managed to go through a few boxes of things left over from the move. I feel pretty damned good.

To fuel me on, my morning hymnal has been mostly made up of Carcass tunes. Brutal, but very melodic. I love their music... especially their later works. They've been disbanded for 12 years, but according to rumors, they're set to reunite.

Between listening to Heartwork on the computer, and watching Wake Up and Smell the Carcass on the tele, I'm thinking the woman in the apartment above may be a bit unhappy.

Hey... I try my best to keep it quiet, but there are some times when it's plain old fashioned not gonna happen.

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October 20, 2007


I'm a bastard, this I know.
And you all can tell me so.
You've been kind and linked to me,
Returned favor, you've not seen.

Yes, Jeebus loves you,
Wait, I just like you.
Don't think I hate you,
I'm just a lazy sot.

I'm waaaaayyy behind on updating links, and culling the herd. I know that there are some of you folks who stop by on a regular basis, and I try to return the favor. But I've only worked off of comments, or my sitemeter.

Within the next week, I'll try to remedy that. You want me to stop by to drink up your wisdom, leave me a comment, or email me your link. Or if you're cool with the way things are, sit in silence.

Makes it easy for me.

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Egg Head

You can tell Halloween is just around the corner. Little bastards start pulling all kinds of crap this time of year. And nobody is safe.

Chicago police reported that some individual attempted to "egg" Bears' coach Lovie Smith's house last night.

The report stated:

An empty egg carton was recovered at the scene. Two eggs hit Mr. Smith's house, 3 eggs went over his house and hit his neighbor's back door, 2 eggs hit the houses of each of his next-door neighbors, and the remaining 3 eggs were found broken on the ground near the carton from where the individual threw them.
Looking at what was hit; police officials say they are considering Rex Grossman as the primary suspect.

Tip o' the mug to my cuz, He of the Brown Hair

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October 18, 2007


Check this out...

I've shrunk. And I've got breastages. And painted toenails. I can deal.

But sandals? C'mon, Erica... that's taking it a bit too far!

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I'm thinking I need one of these for the drive to work.

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October 17, 2007

Good Mourning!

Whining below the fold...

Yesterday started out so damn beautifully. It was in the mid fifties when I stepped outside, the ground wet from early morning showers. The rainclouds had moved off to the east and covered the Sierras, but they were no match for the sun. The sky was shades of blue, purple and red as the shadows of the mountains were projected against the clouds overhead. I drove off to work a happy man.

I got to the first set of tracks. I had beaten the damned train... it's light still off in the distance as it made its way towards blocking off other folks on their way to work.

Oddly, there was hardly any traffic at all as I made my way over to Golden State Boulevard. At the tracks running parallel, all was clear. Once on the boulevard, traffic did manage to pick up, but it wasn't bad enough to keep me from watching as a brilliant orange sun worked its way through the clouds. I can't wait for cooler days so that I can bring my camera in the car with me, without worry that the heat will damage it. You folks missed a great sunrise.

Smooth sailing all of the way down to 99, where I got on, got in the far left lane, and cranked it up. Up ahead, I see brake lights flash, but it appeared traffic was moving. Right then, I saw a pickup on the righ hand side of the highway, a flashing sign suggesting that we slow, traffic may stop ahead.

Yeah. Standstill. There was a wreck somewhere ahead, and we weren't going anywhere.

As we slowly inched forward, I started to get pissed. Not at traffic. Well, a little at traffic. I was more pissed that I was going to be late.

I hate being late to work. If I get there five minutes early, I'm late, in my book. Ten minutes early is safe, but fifteen is desirable. Just the way I am.

Anyway, I'm looking for a ramp to exit, where I might have some idea of how to get to work. Remember, I've only been here for a little over a month... I'm not that familiar with the area. I can drive 'til it looks right, but I've got to have a rough idea of how things are set up. On the north side of town, there are alot of north/south, east/west roads. Closer to downtown, you get a lot of diagonal streets courtesy of the railways.

So I spotted another exit for the GSBoulevard (it runs parallel to 99, for the most part), but I can't get over there because of the damn semis. I only made it to the center lane, and there I stayed, as the "Left Lane Closed Ahead" warning came out.

What lane was the only one moving? Yeah... the left lane. Cars would whip down there, and the nice folks in the center lane pretty much parked so that the left lane could make it into their lane. Pretty damned nice, if you ask me.

And the sun crept higher.

I tossed in Iowa, and turned the volume up to eleven. It helped a bit with the anger, but unfortunately the surrounding feebs were still there.

I was ten minutes late to work. Still in a probationary period. The newest new guy. Doesn't look good at all.

Oh, I know... things like that happen. I know it. I also know that they won't hold it against me. (That they'll admit.) But I hold it against me. I don't know why, but I do. And try as I may, excuse legit and all, I can't get past being late. It fuckin' irks me.

Hey, did you know that it's not a good thing to move parts while your head is down? Yeah. Not a good fuckin' idea. About knocked myself out...

Did you also know that a handful of metal slivers will royally fuck up your day? No? Trust me on that one.

And the stupid question, to cap the day off, was asked by my boss. And, no, I did not bitch slap him. I don't think, so anyway.

If you've never worked around springwire, you may not know what a mess it can be if you do not handle or store it properly. The stuff can go everywhere, if you let it. And with a thickness of .306 inches, it's going to go with great speed and violence.

We had a coil of bad wire, and we need to send it back to the distributor. So I cut it, rewound it, and am in the process of banding it (and not doing too well with the piece of shit bander they gave me) when the boss man walks up and tells me to go home. It's now five minutes after my shift officially ends. He asked me, "Don't you realize there is plenty of time for you to finish this tomorrow? You wait. Finish it then." So after I regained my cool, I let him know that if I let go of the wire, it is soon going to be all over the floor. It needs to be done today, unless they can get someone to hold it in place all night.

I banded it.

I've never seen a place that wants you out so soon after the bell rings. It's not that the office folk need to get out. They're around for another hour. I don't know what it is. Possibly insurance...

My other places of work let you finish up. Five or ten minutes over hurts no one. You don't get paid, but you don't end up leaving things halfassed. These guys are almost too chill. "The bell rings, finish tomorrow. Leave the job here." Totally new to me, and I'm not sure how that's going to work out.

So this morning, I step outside, and it's again in the mid fifties. There are puddles on the ground from an early morning shower, and the eastern sky is beginning to glow with purple and orange. I admire it's beauty, and I cringe...

Not that I'm always looking for the sour lining in everything, but I've better get out on the road. As of now, I've only got fifty minutes to traverse 12 miles.

Hope this ain't a repeat...

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October 16, 2007


Why is it that people always seem to wait until you're killing mad before they ask you the dumbest thing they can think of?

I can't figure it out. Is it a dare? Do they think their stupidity will brighten my day? Or is it just that they enjoy watching the tics and twitches as I try to keep from bitch slapping them?

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October 13, 2007


This is pretty damn cool...

You can help to edit this daemon.

Stoled from Caltech Girl.

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You like NASCAR racing? That's cool for you, I suppose. But make sure you watch the races on the telly. If you do decide to go to one of the events, make sure to take all precautions.

NASCAR fans are rife with diseases.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:42 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Breaking Fast

Just finished a couple of breakfast burritos. Eggs, peppers, salsa, and mexican cheese. Damn easy, and mighty tasty... but they could have been even better. Real eggs, yo (lk). Real eggs.

Since I've moved out here, I've dropped a pound or two. I was 281 when I got here, and as of de mornin, I am 261. I figure once I get to 240, I'll be a frickin' twig, but that's what I hope to eventually reach. That's probably going to take awhile. The first thirteen pounds fell off... the last seven were slow but sure.

It's not like I'm not eating, or am trying to drop weight like crazy. I've just been drinking more water, painfully less amounts of beer, and I've been watching what I eat... actually trying to eat healthier. I've even gone so far as to purchase egg whites instead of eggs. Never again.

It's not that they taste bad, or anything like that. They don't have any taste, PERIOD! Eggs need yolks, folks. Once these egg whites are gone, or go bad, I'm back to eggs. Real eggs. Tasty eggs.

Good gott. I've gone nowhere near what this post was supposed to be about. I guess I can easily get sidetracked. Like the time I drove right by my own driveway... because the neighbour's friend, who was wearing daisy dukes, was bent over their flower garden. Missed my driveway by two lots...

Anyway, I noticed, on the back of the AllWhites carton, a recipe for a protien drink: Combine 1/3 cup egg whites, 6-8 oz of orange, pineapple, or apple juice and shake or mix in blender. To thicken, add strawberries, bananas, and/or icecubes. Sounded a little familiar... and now it's accepted.

When I was a wee toddy, we lived on a farm. And once we left there, we were on a farmette. It wasn't until two years after I grajimucated that we moved to town.

Every morning, we had chores to do before heading off to school. Animals being animals, you couldn't just set aside, say, fifteen minutes for chores. Sometimes, it took less, and other times it took nearly double. We had some pretty hurried breakfasts, including large coolwhip bowls of cereal that were eaten in the car on the way to school. Out of this rush, my ma came up with an easy fix. Now, I'm not saying that she is the inventor of this breakfast, just that she hooked us up with it. Took only a minute to put together, and you could drink it out of a glass. (Trying to drink the leftover milk out of a bowl as you're going over hills and around curves is a bit of a project.)

In a blender, we'd mix two or three eggs, about 12 oz milk, and four spoonfuls of Nestle's Quik. (Over the years, I've decided Hershey's syrup is more gooder.) Blend and drink. Soon, we were experimenting... sugar and vanilla extract, a capfull of peppermint extract with the chocolate, almond extract, and even orange. Yeah... a couple were not so very good, but hey... it was breakfast, and it worked well for us.

We told friends about it, and the reactions we got were classic. Near vomiting, shudders, looks of concern... not too many of them were willing to give it a try. Salmonella poisoning a concern. Yeah... they'd have shit if they knew that we were using goat's milk, too. Unprocessed goat's milk.

So I'm sitting there looking at the back of this carton, and I'm wondering, "WTF?" Then I saw it... pastuerized. Ah, yes. That makes it good, and good for you.

I'm sorry folks, but the best milk I've ever had came straight from the cooler in the milk house. The best beer, untouched by this vile pastuerization process. Eggs? Straight out of the hen house...

You only live once. And you only die once. Live until you die.

So back to the point of this post, what were some of your quick fixes for breaking fast?

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October 11, 2007

A Short Post

For my good pal, he of the blank blog, Zonker...

May you be flooded in midgets this weekend.

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October 09, 2007







Well, there was that 45 hour day following MCCRES, and then that 38 hour day for Beloit Corp, but they don't count right now.


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October 08, 2007

Cut Down

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Art Martial

Awhile back, I was sent a video that could have contained some classified info. I was going to do a post on it, but I thought that perhaps I was pushing my luck, so it was shelved, so to speak. But recently, with a comment from Mink and a conversation with Tammi, I've reconsidered.

Mink made reference to MCMAP. In case you didn't know, or didn't click the link, MCMAP stands for Marine Corps Martial Arts Program. This was started in 2001, and is required that all Marines go through the first level, a tan belt, while all infantry Marines need a green belt, or third level. Though some Army units teach jujitsu, and martial arts are part of training for elite forces, the Corps is the only branch of service that requires that all of their members go through this training. At least, for now.

The Air Farce has jealously looked on, and is interested in implementing their own version, the Air Force Lethal Operations Program, also know as AFLOP. Through Tree Hugging Sister, I was able to get some footage of the experts hired to put together this program.

Allegedly, this program is yet to be implemented, but I've got a couple of friends who've been in the Farce, and it's pretty clear that they've learned some of these deadly techniques.

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October 07, 2007


Holy shit! Holy shit! The Bears managed to beat the Pack!

Wow... I'm stunned. And grinning like an idiot...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:48 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

October 04, 2007

Holiday Cheer

YAAAAYYYYY! It's here! It's here! Psychostick's new holiday disc, The Flesh Eating Rollerskate Holiday Joyride is here... in my cd player! This is the bestest, mostest holidayest disc you'll ever get! EVER! Just check out their myspace page to hear "Jolly Old Sadist."

All of the tracks kick some serious ass, but I think my favorite is "Red Snow," a song about Rudolph.

My red nose the cause of all laughter
Around her I am just a goddamn chauffeur
Fucking Santa he's laughing he won't do a thing
choke on blood when you sing

My name is Rudolph, I am the saddest reindeer alive
But I'm gonna take control, I'm taking over the North Pole
I might be smaller, but I'm the meanest reindeer alive
Until I exact revenge, I'm never saving Christmas again
Red Snow.

My red nose will light up the red snow
Smell the air there's a trace of blood in my blow
There's another victim awaiting for me
Hiding in the debris

My name is Rudolph, I am the saddest reindeer alive
But I'm gonna take control, I'm taking over the North Pole
I might be smaller, but I'm the meanest reindeer alive
Until I exact revenge, I'm never saving Christmas again
No hope

The misfits from the island are trained to kill on command
The smell of blood excites them
Recall how they were condemned
These toys all shapes and sizes, devised clever disguises
The infiltrate at midnight, prepare yourselves
For a fucking fight

Dasher Dancer Prancer and Vixen
Comet Cupid Donner and Blitzen
Feel my knife on your throat and I'll grin
Put a happy face under your chin

Rudolph's gonna make you suffer

Red Snow

Beautiful... just beautiful.

Ya gotsta check it out...

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October 02, 2007

Rock Lobster

Damn song's been stuck in my head all day.

Thanks, AW

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October 01, 2007

A Gift Idea

RSM just graduated from boot camp, and is now a member of the National Guard. I'm pretty damn proud of the little whiner.

He also just had a birthday this past Saturday. I sent him a gift, for which he was very thankful, but he made it pretty damn clear what he'd really been hoping for... a flak jacket and first aid kit from here.

Hook a brother up...

Tip o' the mug to Zeejus

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:35 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

Punh Prss

You know thos folks that always hav it wors than you? Or bttr than you? Basially, thos that, no mattr what you say, thy've got a rply for it.
"amn, it was hot out in that srt."
"You think that's hot... I was up in th Yukon an th hat thr was blistring."
You know... thos folks.

I'v yt to figur out if thy'r ru asshols, or if thy just lik to har thmslvs talk an assum w o, too. ithr way, thy obviously on't hav th ourtsy to har you out. Thy only listn for that ky phras, an jump on it. "Oh, you think that's...." It's vry irritating.

I got stuk running a punh prss toay. It suck. Fuking things arn't th safst things in th worl, an thy mak m a littl nrvous. Not to mntion, th hight for th amn thing isn't vry omfortabl. I hav to slightly bn ovr to run it. Aftr about an hour, my bak hurts. I got to fling sorry for th guy who's bn running it. H's tallr than m, an h runs it for hours. So I mntion it to him.

"Hy, man... it's gotta suk running that thing for as long as you o. I on't know how you o it. Just that littl bit, an my bak was killing m."
"Wll, you shoul try running it all ay! That kills your bak!!!" Ummm... yah. I ould hav sworn that I just sai that...

I hop I'm on with that bast. on't want to los a han... as I'm sur h's on. 'ours, h got bttr.

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