September 10, 2005

Becoming What You Are

Being a Chicago Bear fan, I feel a little uneasy knowing Jerry Angelo is at the helm. The Rockford Register Star recently had a few quotes from him that leave one scratching their head.

“You can’t play around the quarterback,” Angelo said. “I’ve changed my tune on that over the years. The quarterback’s got to make plays. At some point in the game, he’s got to stand tall and he’s got to make plays.”

"I don’t believe that you put unrealistic expectations on rookies. You have to let rookies become rookies."

There is another one there that makes the head swim, and a little further down is a classic quote from center Olin Kreutz.

I can follow Kreutz's, Angelo.... well, maybe it's just me.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:52 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Gone Golfin'

Got up too early this morning... I've got a golf play day to participate in. I don't even know who this is to benefit, other than me.

What guy wouldn't jump on the chance to say that they were in a foursome with three women???

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:36 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Straight White Blog Birthday

Many moons ago, before time could be counted... ah, shit... I guess it was last year. Anyway, at a comment party at Madfish's, I ran into some guy named Eric... of Straight White Guy. I went over to his blog, saw the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor, and knew this was one cool cat.

I've been stopping in almost every day since then, with a couple of exceptions. I go there for the stories, his posts about music, and his observations... as Jim from Parkway Rest Stop says, ""Eric can write beautifully about "nothing" better than anyone." The man is a great story teller and writer... and should you ever get to meet him, you'll discover that he is a great human bean. I'm just not sure what kind.

Anyway, he's celebrating his second birthday/blogiversary whatchamathingie today, and he'd like to say "thanks" to us. We should be thanking him. Make sure you stop by and thank the lad.

*raises bottle* Thanks to you, my friend!

Okay, Eric... where's my bottle of Sapphire?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:35 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

September 09, 2005

Who Dat?

What kind of an idiot nails a garage door shut and closes the overhead door, locking in his only garage door opener? Who kicks open the door, rendering the un-openable unclosable?

Who gave this blog it's name?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:02 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Mortars, Marines, And Muppets

The night was dark... an oily dark. Even the stars didn't throw much light. There was no "twinkle."

After the eyes got accustomed to the night, one could make out eight shadowy figures split into two groups of four. They were huddled around what looked like two tree stumps. The stumps were mortars, and each group was a gun crew.

Behind them, a radio crackled to life, and a red flashlight beam lit up a small area about fifty yards back inside the woods. Within seconds, a fire mission was sent to the two guns... deflections and elevations, followed by rounds and charges. The crews went to work in near silence, the clink of metal on metal a sound that would carry through the night.

First one, then the other mortar fired. An illumination round popped open, and began it's graceful descent to the ground. Within seconds, the HE (high explosive) round from the second gun hit the ground. After the concussion, the night returned to silence, the illume round still floating slowly to the earth.

The radio again came to life with a correction. Almost immediately, the new numbers were given, and the gunners readied the mortars. Another two rounds went out, with the scenario a repeat of the first, only this time closer to the target.

Another correction was radioed in, the new data figured instantly. Data was passed to the gunline, along with the order for a five round fire for effect. The gun crews silently readied their rounds.

As the illume round from the first gun was popped, the first HE round from the second gun was dropped down the tube. Immediately following the loud bang, you could hear a loud impression of the Count from Sesame Street: "ONE! One round down range! Hahahah..."

The next round is dropped, and again, the "Count" cried out: "TWO! Two rounds down range... hahahah!" This time snickers were heard from those in his crew.

This kept going on, with the snickers giving way to laughter, not just from his crew, but the whole section laughing harder each time.

When the last round is dropped, the Count finishes: "FIVE! Oh, five beautiful rounds down range! Hahahahahahahah......" This was followed by one of the crew announcing loudly in a very well done impersonation, "Hi ho, this is Kermit the Frog reporting live from Camp Lejeune... tell me, sir, do you think any frogs were killed by that last fire for effect?" The place fell apart with laughter.

These were the guys I went to Advanced Mortar Gunnery School with. A strange group. Hell, it seems that most of my friends from any stage of my life might fit into this group. I just thank gott that I'm normal.

What brought this about? I was whistling "People In Your Neighborhood," and got one of the other guys to start whistling Sesame Street songs. Once he got going, he wanted to hear this story again, and my impression of those involved.

I figured y'all might enjoy it, too. Not to mention getting an earworm from a person who likes to share.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:17 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Must Click News

NSFW. Foamy the squirrel covers Katrina. The squirrel says it all.

Damn, I've missed him.

Hat tip to Romeocat of Cathouse Chat.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 01:08 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

September 08, 2005

A Tardsday Letter

Dear Fellow Drivers,

I am a good driver; do not debate me on this fact.

I am a cautious driver; I have never been in an accident, 'though I have narrowly missed quite a few. I've seen them happen all around me, yet, my skills keep me safe.

If 55 is a safe speed limit, 45 should realistically be safer... right?

I keep an eye out for my fellow drivers (you); if I deem a situation potentially unsafe, I will intervene. If a car tries to pass me on a narrow country road, I will kindly drift over to block their pass, unless I approve the distance in view as "appropriate."

On the interstate, I set my cruise at 67 and get into the fast lane so that drivers with speedometers that may be off will be able to maintain a safe speed.

All that I do is for others, and yet, a one fingered salute from them to me is not uncommon. Often, they yell something about 'A show.' I don't understand this lack of appreciation.

I, my friends, am the reason you can celebrate Tardsday, and still... no thanks. Please folks, just a simple nod will do.


Your Protector,

L. Tardo

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:44 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Awesome Alliteration

Not much sleep. Brain not right work.This means I'm without an actual post, and weird things are free to flow. So I tell you what... let's play a game.

To entertain ourselves when we used to travel a lot, a friend and I used to come up with very strange stories following the formula found in Berenstains' B Book. We didn't stick to it totally, but tried to keep all nouns, adjectives, adverbs, and verbs starting with the same letter. Some of the letters work better than others, but I'm going to save my favorite for another time.

I'll kick it off, and feel free to follow in the comments. You don't need to use whole sentences... if you only can think of a word that fits, throw it in. No need to keep it clean. Repeat words are not a problem. Ready? Using the letter A:

Adam the angry armadillo ambled aimlessly....

UPDATE: This isn't a novel... it's just fun. Characters are free to come and go. As long as we have fun, it's all cool.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:29 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Bou's Birthday

Hey, everybody... today is Bou's birthday! She's turning 20 again, so swing on by and wish her the best!

Happy Birthday, Blog-Sis! Forty... geesh. :)

I figure, since she kinda likes Johnny Depp, I'd give her a bathtub shot.

Oops... wrong Johnny. Here's the real McCoy.

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September 07, 2005

A Legacy In The Making

"What's your daddy do for a living?"
"Er... uh... well... he steals dolls, and sells them."

Be proud, my child.

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Off The Island

Gilligan casts off.

Bob Denver dead at 70.

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Tips For Hunting Stingy Things

Due to my hours and a hectic schedule, I haven't spent much time outside of my house during the heat of the day. Lawn mowing was done in the fading light, or early morning. So it came as quite the surprise the other day when I discovered that my house is a hive. No kidding. Hundreds, if not thousands of bees, living in a hole in my wall, above my kitchen roof. Some had even made it into the attic... they covered the window.

I've rid myself of them, hopefully, and have decided to share a few tips. Things that may make the experience as easy and pain-free as possible.

1. Wait until dusk, or even dark: Bees, wasps, hornets all return to their nests or hives at the end of the day. Flying around scaring and stinging folks is hard work. After a couple of tankards of mead, they're down for the night. Strike whilst they're passed out.

2. Wear appropriate clothing: Try to cover as much skin as possible. Wear gloves, hat, long sleeve shirt or jacket, jeans and jump boots if available. Netting may help, but don't get carried away... you'll need to be able to move.

3. Use the proper spray: Approach the nest/hive with caution. There were still many milling about when I did this... and it was well after dark. Use a foam, preferably one that will spray from a long distance. Do not use a regular spray, no matter how much the helpful hardware man tells you that it works just as well. Foam knocks them down, spray... well, that leads to the next tip.

4. Plan your route of egress: In my case, I had to climb on top of a roof to get to the wall just below the eaves of the next roof. You want to allow for things to happen. Say you use a regular spray... I can guarantee that you're not using the ladder to climb back down. This is where the jump boots come in. You're feet are going to sting, but at least you're quickly back to the ground. Sprinting is a good plan.

5. Remember this: "Stop, drop, and roll", is a totally asinine thing to do. "Duck and cover" rates right there, too. Welts will accumulate faster than you can say "Raid." Stinging pests about to die want to take someone with them. YOU WANT TO KEEP MOVING. Trust me on this.

6. Celebrate the killing of your enemies with a beer... or gin and tonic... or whatever. Just consume plenty of alcohol.

Hope these are of some help to you. Good luck.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:34 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

September 06, 2005

Pattern Mussed

Blogging pattern is going to change. Going into work now at noon 'til nine thirty, so most posts will be in the morning, or later at night.

All part of the exit.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:31 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Killing time draws nigh
Hive inside the wall must go
Watch my ass get stung.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:32 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

September 05, 2005

A Belated Birthday

'Tis the Great Omnipotent One's birthday... as of yesterday. Go on over to Bou's, and send him your best wishes!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:46 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Antibiotics are gone... alcohol is a go.

Dopplebock for breakfast? Nectar of the gods.

I could never be an athiest after tasting a good beer.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:44 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Labor Day

It's Labor Day, when folks traditionally do three times as much work as usual.

Get back to work, and enjoy your day.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:09 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

What Else Would You Expect?

Checking out the Munuvian blogroll yesterday, I found Martinis, Persistence, and a Smile. A lot of celebrity updates there. I stumbled across this post about Vanity Fair's Jennifer Aniston cover being the best selling issue of the magazine, ever. Methinks I should check this out.

Wow... here it is. There's an article there, but I can't get past the pic to read it!


Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:28 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Another Meme

Found this meme over at Techography, home of Bloodspite. Thought it funny that I didn't know about a third of the songs, and of those I did know, most I didn't give a rip about, one way or the other.

Top 100 songs for '85

1) Go to and, in the search box provided, enter the year you graduated high school.

2) From the search results, click the link for the top 100 songs of that year.

3) With the resulting list:
a) bold the songs you like,
b) strike through the ones you hate
c) underline your favorite
d) and ignore the ones you don't remember or don't care about.

1. Careless Whisper, Wham!
2. Like A Virgin, Madonna

3. Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go, Wham!
4. I Want To Know What Love Is, Foreigner
5. I Feel For You, Chaka Khan
6. Out Of Touch, Daryl Hall and John Oates
7. Everybody Wants To Rule The World, Tears For Fears
8. Money For Nothing, Dire Straits
9. Crazy For You, Madonna
10. Take On Me, A-Ha
11. Everytime You Go Away, Paul Young
12. Easy Lover, Phil Collins and Philip Bailey
13. Can't Fight This Feeling, REO Speedwagon
14. We Built This City, Starship
15. The Power Of Love, Huey Lewis and The News
16. Don't You (Forget About Me), Simple Minds
17. Cherish, Kool and The Gang
18. St. Elmo's Fire (Man In Motion), John Parr

19. The Heat Is On, Glenn Frey
20. We Are The World, U.S.A. For Africa
21. Shout, Tears For Fears
22. Part-Time Lover, Stevie Wonder
23. Saving All My Love For You, Whitney Houston
24. Heaven, Bryan Adams
25. Everything She Wants, Wham!
26. Cool It Now, New Edition
27. Miami Vice Theme, Jan Hammer
28. Lover Boy, Billy Ocean
29. Lover Girl, Teena Marie
30. You Belong To The City, Glenn Frey
31. Oh Sheila, Ready For The World
32. Rhythm Of The Night, Debarge
33. One More Night, Phil Collins
34. Sea Of Love, Honeydrippers
35. A View To A Kill, Duran Duran
36. The Wild Boys, Duran Duran
37. You're The Inspiration, Chicago
38. Neutron Dance, Pointer Sisters
39. We Belong, Pat Benatar
40. Nightshift, Commodores
41. Things Can Only Get Better, Howard Jones
42. All I Need, Jack Wagner
43. Freeway Of Love, Aretha Franklin
44. Never Surrender, Corey Hart
45. Sussudio, Phil Collins
46. Strut, Sheena Easton
47. You Give Good Love, Whitney Houston
48. The Search Is Over, Survivor
49. Missing You, Diana Ross
50. Separate Lives, Phil Collins and Marilyn Martin
51. Raspberry Beret, Prince and The Revolution
52. Suddenly, Billy Ocean
53. The Boys Of Summer, Don Henley
54. One Night In Bangkok, Murray Head
55. If You Love Somebody Set Them Free, Sting
56. Obsession, Animotion
57. We Don't Need Another Hero, Tina Turner
58. Material Girl, Madonna
59. Better Be Good To Me, Tina Turner
60. Head Over Heels, Tears For Fears
61. Axel F, Harold Faltermeyer
62. Smooth Operator, Sade
63. In My House, Mary Jane Girls
64. Don't Lose My Number, Phil Collins
65. All Through The Night, Cyndi Lauper
66. Run To You, Bryan Adams

67. Glory Days, Bruce Springsteen
68. Voices Carry, 'Til Tuesday
69. Misled, Kool and The Gang
70. Would I Lie To You?, Eurythmics
71. Be Near Me, ABC
72. No More Lonely Nights, Paul McCartney
73. I Can't Hold Back, Survivor
74. Summer Of '69, Bryan Adams
75. Walking On Sunshine, Katrina and The Waves
76. Freedom, Wham!
77. Too Late For Goodbyes, Julian Lennon
78. Valotte, Julian Lennon
79. Some Like It Hot, Power Station
80. Solid, Ashford and Simpson
81. Angel, Madonna
82. I'm On Fire, Bruce Springsteen
83. Method Of Modern Love, Daryl Hall and John Oates
84. Lay Your Hands On Me, Thompson Twins
85. Who's Holding Donna Now, Debarge
86. Lonely Ol' Night, John Cougar Mellencamp
87. What About Love, Heart
88. California Girls, David Lee Roth
89. Fresh, Kool and The Gang
90. Do What You Do, Jermaine Jackson
91. Jungle Of Love, The Time
92. Born In The USA, Bruce Springsteen
93. Private Dancer, Tina Turner
94. Who's Zoomin' Who, Aretha Franklin
95. Fortress Around Your Heart, Sting
96. Penny Lover, Lionel Richie
97. All She Wants To Do Is Dance, Don Henley

98. Dress You Up, Madonna
99. Sentimental Street, Night Ranger
100. Sugar Walls, Sheena Easton

And I've gotta be honest... I hated Wham!, and that's the only reason they are all marked as hated. I truly only remember one of the songs.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:24 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

September 04, 2005

Katrina In The Tropics

Once again, out of the kindness of my heart, I respond to a blogger's plea. Dax was begging for help. He's asking for another Katrina post, and he sounds sarcastic desperate. So I decided to feed his fascination with Katrina Kaif ('least I assume that's who he's talkin' about) and give him a link to a photo. Maybe it will distract him from the hurricane.

Helping... it's what I do.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:47 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Tammi and her memes... she likes to pin'em on ya just when you thought you avoided it. She's got her latest meme up, which for some reason she's trying to blame on Eric. Well, anyway, here's my responses:

1. Person who most influenced your musical tastes:

I'd have to say my father. He wasn't a musician, that I know of, but he always had music going in the barns. In the dairy barn, he kept polka playing. And when the hogs were farrowing, he kept the now defunct WMAQ playing it's country music to keep the sows from getting startled. I still like a bit of both of these types of music, but I think you can tell that I lean a little towards Rock-n-roll now. Just a little. And, as you probably already know, I got my love of Johnny Cash from him.

2. Top 5 songs to drive to:

This isn't really fair... there's a hell of a lot of good tunes for driving. But I'll try;

1. Jesus Built My Hot Rod - Ministry

2. Superstition - Stevie Ray Vaughan

3. Warped City - Ministry

4. Wait and Bleed - Slipkot

5. Holy Wars... The Punishment Due - Megadeth

5. Jesus Christ Pose - Soundgarden

5. Tennesse Flat-top Box - Johnny Cash

5. The Way - Fastball

5. Mate, Spawn and Die - Lard

5. Walk - Pantera

5. Funk #49 - James Gang

5. In The Arms Of God/Stone Breaker - COC

5. Impetus - Clutch

5.... oh alright, I'll stop now. But there are too many to accurately answer this... it all depends on your mood.

3. # of CD's you own:

Somewhere in the neighbourhood of gnakdjfak hundred. Meaning: I don't know. Two years ago, it was a little over 1,200.

4. Song/CD you were listening to when you lost your virginity:

Like A Virgin - Madonna... not! Actually, I think the "Holy Grail" may have been playing in the other room... I kept telling her to go away, or I'd taunt her a second time. Really, I don't remember any tunes at all. Oops.. I mean this question is too personal to answer.

5. Song(s) played at your wedding:

Never been married, but if/when I do get hitched, I think I'm going to offer the organist an extra $50 to play a dirge. Heheh... I may need the same song played at my funeral the next day!

6. Favorite sad song:

The one that makes my throat tighten and heart feel heavy? Johnny Cash singing "Hurt."

7. Song you'd like played at your funeral:

"So Long, Farewell" from the Sound Of Music. Really.

No further blogger shall be harmed with the passing of this meme... unless they choose to be so burdened. If so, let me know, or trackback.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:42 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Kennedy Hill

There's a tale around here of a ghost who wanders Kennedy Hill road, north of Byron. Most stories I've heard make her sound like Resurrection Mary, from Chicagoland. I do remember hearing about her when I was in middle school, a little over 25 years ago. Then, I heard she was a woman in white, dressed in flimsy clothes... in the middle of winter. A car stopped to pick her up, she got in, then disappeared. But, that was told by kids, to a kid. I didn't really believe it.

A few years ago, I was looking for a house to rent. Back in the woods off of Kennedy Hill, there is a huge house, with different drives coming into it. At each drive, is a house for the gatekeeper. I was checking into renting one of them. That's when I was reacquainted with the ghost.

A co-worker was trying to help me find a place, and when I mentioned that, he was genuinely concerned. "That stretch of road is haunted," he said. "There's a ghost of a woman that's been seen right there." I laughingly teased him about it, and got the usual suggestion that I perform an impossible act with myself. I also mentioned it to another friend who'd lived in Stillman Valley for over 40 years. She wasn't as concerned, but she did make sure that I knew about the ghost.

I don't really believe any of this. I do believe in ghosts, but I think this is just a variation of the vanishing hitchhiker urban legend. Looking it up, I only found one mention of her, and that was one sentence, found early on in this piece. She could be real... and that would rock. But I'm thinking it's a load of crap.

HOWEVER, I drive through that area quite often, and mostly late at night. And I can't help but wonder a bit. Part of me would really love to see a ghost, while another tells me that should I ever get to witness one, I'll be changing my shorts afterwards... shortly after I make a new doorway in the nearest wall.

I drove through last night on the bike, and that thought came again. It can be an eerie area, especially this time of year. Deer run through there all of the time... some big ones. And knowing that, as you drive, it appears things are moving alongside the road. Of course, it's just you being overly cautious, but it can make things seem creepy.

I'd like to think that were I ever to see her, I'd pull over and offer a ride... just to see what would happen. But reality suggests that I would give the engine what gas I could, and be out of there like a flash.

What would you do?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:33 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

September 03, 2005


There isn't anything like a nice 200 mile jaunt on the bike to change how you're feelin': 80o, sunny without a cloud in the sky. Fewer cars than normal, thanks to gas prices. Just what the doctor ordered.

Have I figured out what I'm going to do? Nope. Am I nervous about my situation? I suppose... somewhere deep inside. Do I give a rip? Though I know I will later on, the current answer is HELL NO!

Riding is good for the soul.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:58 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Rabid Hoses

Read a couple of stories over at Phin's and Acidman's about out of control hoses. No, no, no... it's not what you're thinking. We're talking AIR and WATER hoses. Damn prevs! Reminded me of a couple of incidents that happened where I used to work.

We had a new mechanic come to our floor... a real asshole. We were deburring a bunch of baseplates, and really trying to haul ass... they were supposed to ship first thing in the morning. There were three of us, deburring gott knows how many baseplates. We'd deburr the edges, stamp the part symbol number on, then file it flat. You only needed one air tool. Of course, unless you were the asshole... then you showed off all of the tools you had.

Now the fittings we used on our airlines were not quick disconnect... they looked like these. So to change tools, you either walked over to the wall, and turned the air off, or you kinked the hose. I was in the middle of stamping a plate when I heard an airline let loose and an inhuman scream.

There was the new guy, laying on the floor in the fetal position that Acidman mentioned, holding his nards and trying to protect his face from the evil hose. Much as we didn't want to, we got the air shut off, and went to laugh and point at check on him, and make sure he was okay. He was sobbing.... which just made us cry with him. Okay, our tears were from laughter.

We should have let the hose beat him to death. Turns out, the bright one had kinked the hose to change tools, but when the new tool wouldn't go into the fitting, he let go of the kink to try and use both hands to hook the tool up. Never had a chance. A Darwin award in the making, and we had ruined it.

We had almost stopped laughing until he puked... then it started all over again. Trying to get a little relief, and maybe a bit of sympathy from us, he came back holding a bag of ice over the boys. Heheh... we were crying! One of the funniest things I've ever had the privilege to be around. 'Course, if that were me, it wouldn't have been the least bit funny.

The other incident is nowhere near the first one, but it was pretty good nonetheless.

We used to screw a male fitting into these thick gallon jugs. You duct tape it, connect the air hose to it, and wait for an unsuspecting victim. Once the victim approached the blast area, you turned the air on, and that bottle would make a huge BOOOOM! We called them "bottle bombs," and they would scare the crap out of you even if you knew they were about to go off!

A crew of shippers had come up to our floor and were packing up a very large crate. While they left for break, we made up a bottle bomb, and placed it under the crate. Then we waited for the buzzer, and just cracked the air, allowing the pressure to slowly build.

They got back and started in again while we were all just waiting. The best part was that one of them was straddling the hose. Now before you think that we were trying to hurt someone, I've gotta point out that the end of the hose couldn't come out from under the crate until you used a crane to lift it... we had left just enough room to keep the hose from getting pinched off. Anyway, nothing happened. That bottle had to have been huge... it just wouldn't blow. So one of the guys got impatient, walked over to the valve, and cranked it up.

When that sucker went, it was loud as hell, and the hose was jumping back and forth between that shipper's legs... they started doing a twisted dance. Actually it looked like they were playing hopscotch on a huge grid... jumping side to side, leaping all over the place! I almost felt bad... almost.

Ah.... good times, good times.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:20 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

September 02, 2005

The Fritzies

Alright, I know all ten of you are just dying to know who got the 16 oz Fritz's Wooden Nickel glass. Well, here's the way they came in, according to my Sitemeter.

At number 22,221 was an unknown referral, though I'm pretty damn sure that it was Marty.
One hit too late was Sissy, at 22,223. That would have been cool, as I was her 10,000th hit.

22,222? A screen shot. Someone from came over from phin's place, making him the lucky winnah. He gets not only a fine, fine piece of elegant glassware, but the promise that if/when we ever meet, that glass will be filled with the libation of his choice.

A huge honorable mention goes out to Livey, who came in at 22,220. The woman is a living example of persistence... she was tryin' to get me in a boots only pose. Count yourself lucky, Livey... that's not a pretty sight!

Thanks to all of you who have been visiting over the past year and gave these hits to me. You all rock.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:45 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Bright Criminal Of The Week

A heist should require a bit of thought... at least more than a couple of minutes worth. Just my thinking.

"A bank robbery failed because one of the alleged robbers was worried that his electronic tracking ankle bracelet would go off and alert his probation officer if he was gone from home for too long, police said."
Criminals is de craziest peoples!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:48 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Lose Thumbs While You Sleep!

It's no secret that I have some pretty strange dreams. Don't really know why, but they seem to like me. Always have, since I was a kid. Heh... back then, the dream that I had for the longest time was me being shoved into a pipe, grates welded on the ends, then dropped into deep water. 'Course, I drowned. These started when I was about five, and went until I got into high school. Driftin'....

A little while back, I dreamed that I lost my left thumb. Ripped it right off, as in the whole digit going back to the wrist. It was a fairly gorey dream, but the only thing I clearly remember is freaking out about my thumb taking a haitus.

I had this dream a couple of different times within about a two week's period. Thumb always gone, though in different ways. Last one I remember clearly was getting my hand slammed in a car door. Splat... thumb gone.

Well, that wasn't so weird. What WAS strange is that I had a dream shortly after these that seemed to tie in. It was a very short dream... I woke up in a cold sweat almost immediately.

In that dream, I was trying to work on a machine or something, and I reached out to grab ahold of another something. As my hand went out in front of me, NO THUMB! It didn't get ripped off, it just wasn't there. No scars... it had healed nicely, I guess. I woke up checking to see if I still had my thumb.

Wonder what the hell that was supposed to mean?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:55 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

The Explanation

Here's the scoop on my post about taking a leap. I didn't really mean for it to sound cryptic... I just wanted to make sure that folks in my workplace didn't know what was going down. Not their business, though they seem to think so.

One way or another, I will be losing my current job. The company is going to be going through some changes soon, thinning the workforce and moving workcenters, and I've made it pretty obvious that I don't care for the job. Oh, I do a great job while I'm working... I just hate being a machine setup and operator. Part of what makes this a hard decision for those above is the fact that I run excellent parts. And, as my boss said, "You're one of our best operators... but it's plain to see that you don't like the job." Anyway, I had a nice sit down with my boss, and we didn't try to bullshit each other.

When all was said and done, it came down to three options:
1. I take a position in another department.
2. I try to bullshit them that I suddenly love standing in front of a machine.
3. I leave the company for a job elsewhere.

The first option sounded tempting, except that it is going to be a five dollar an hour pay cut. Heh... I don't make that much now! One suggestion was for me to take this position, and bartend on weekends to make up what I lose. I do this until I find another job.

The second option just ain't going to happen. Even if I did try that, I only have a month to show my undying love for the job, or I'm flat out gone.

With the third option, I have the "luxury" of looking for another job, while staying around for another month. The boss has offered to try and work with me on scheduling interviews and such. Hell, the owner actually called the staffing agency asking about possible jobs for me! Boss says that's the first time he's ever seen him do that.

So there's the reason behind "The Leap." I'm not really looking for advice, I just thought it funny, in a weird way, that a person could go from liking the opportunity for something new, to being afraid of making a move. Familiarity is not a friend in the long run.

This could work out to be a very good thing... I'll just have to see how I make it play out.

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September 01, 2005


"Would you like Hot or Mild sauce with that?"

"No, thank you. I'll have the Fire sauce, please."


Fire... F-I-R-E.
Mild... M-I-L-D.

FIRE= warm "hot" sauce
MILD= giggle juice

They don't even sound the same. Leastways, not to me.

Idiot gave me mild.

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Katrina Relief

Apothegmdesigns is auctioning off a custom blog design to the highest bidder, as a way to help provide relief for Hurricane Katrina.

Go to phin's blog for more details, or to make a bid.

Help out, and get a kick ass looking blog!

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August 31, 2005

The Leap

I used to have dreams as a youngster, where I could see almost all of our farm from a birdseye view. Had it for years, and then told my ma about it. Come to find out, when I was three, I climbed the silo all the way to the top, and stood in the little crow's nest checkin' the place out. About the time my dad started to climb up, I decided it was time to come down, so I made my way, yelling at my father to "get out of the way, Daddy, I'm coming down!" When I reached arms' level, I was yanked off of the silo, and my little bottom blistered. I never had a problem remembering the spankin', but I did forget what had brought it on!

As I got older, I never feared going places that I probably shouldn't, jumping off of things that I knew I shouldn't... no fears, no worries. Except about getting my ass beat. But the unknown was a fun thing.

Even as an adult I was that way. Part of why I joined the Marines at 24. Something I wanted to do, and I wanted to do it now. Times at my job had slowed down, so I wasn't too worried about that, I just wanted to be a part of the Corps.

My whole life, I've never truly feared the unknown... it may have made me nervous at times, but I was never scared.

So why, now that my situation is the same as walking the plank, but within swimming distance of land, am I afraid to take the jump? Weird how things change.

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Dueces Wild

I've only celebrated one milestone since I started this thing over a year ago, and that was to celebrate my first 1000 hits. But sometime late Friday, or early Saturday, I should hit 22,222. Used to be my old clock number, believe it or not.

Oh, I know it's not that many... some blogs have been around just as long, and are over the 100,000 mark. That's cool. They have important things to say!

So I'm trying to figure out what, if anything, I should do for the 22222th visitor. So far, a glass from the infamous Fritz's is the best I can do... Eric already had the old sock idea, and Velociman the Popeye hand puppet. Those were for 200,000.

Maybe the glass will have to do...

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Sleep is a fleeting thing... it's like a small town on a county highway. Blink, and it's gone.

'Course, some nights see many towns.

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August 30, 2005

My Choice

Saturday, a good friend of mine was supposed to be in town from Iowa, so I went up to his sister's place to meet him. He was coming over to present some pyramid deal, but I was hoping just to visit with him. Originally, I was going to sit outside until the presentation was done, but Hey, I'm a nice guy... I sat through the presentation. And found that the bout of IJS (irritable Joe syndrome) that I've had recently was in full effect.

At one point, the presenter (not my friend) asked us the question I asked you below. He asked me about a truck, however, and not a car. So I answered first with, "I don't really know, other than something basic." He immediately points at me and says that I'm an example of what happens to us as we get older... we lose our imaginations. Heh... me losing my imagination. My mind, maybe... imagination, no.

This pissed me off, but I sat and listened to it until he said, "If someone would offer to buy you whatever you wanted, you'd get a pimped out ride, with spinner rims and decked out with everything." I was just opening my mouth to call bullshit, when my friend looked at him and said, "T, you don't know Joe. He'd have nothing to do with that. You don't know him at all." Did my heart good.

I kept quiet 'til he started talking about how this deal works... you buy your personal supplies through their outfit. Now, I'm on antibiotics, and trying hard to do things right, so I've not partaken of any alcohol, while most everyone else there had. No one was flat out plastered, but a couple were trying. So the presenter boy was getting heckled. I tried to be nice, and was acting like I was listening, 'though he already knew I wasn't.

Anyway, when he explained how you buy everything from them, he mentioned that they had everything you could think of... from diapers to building supplies, energy drinks to hunting gear. Everything. Everything? I wondered. So I asked, "How about beer? Beer's the only thing I use in bulk." He got irritated and mentioned something about drunks... which pissed me right the hell off. "Dude, I'm probably the most sober person here... I haven't touched a f*&kin' drop of anything but water. I wouldn't call me drunk." My friend started saying almost the same thing, and presenter apologized.

After it was all over with, I was still stewing over his dumbass comments, so I went up to talk to him. Now I didn't go up and try to be a dick to him. I just talked to him, and let him know that he shouldn't be trying to tell people how they think. That can't be good when you're trying to sell something. I explained that were someone to buy me a truck, a basic four wheel drive is all I need. An oldie but goody. Something I can smack into trees in the woods, and not worry about scratching paint.

But a car? Ah..... the endless possibilities! Most likely I'd go with an American muscle car late sixties, early seventies. Sure, a Jag, Ferrari, Lamborghini, Aston Martin, Porsche... many other fine European cars would be sweet. But I've kinda got a thing for 442's. Or maybe even a Camaro... 69 SS, or even better, '67 Yenko....

I suppose there are a couple of different reasons for this post:
First, to bitch about people trying to tell others how YOU think. Something I hate more and more as I get older. I will admit to being a fine example of that.
And second, to see if maybe the prick was right... maybe we do lose a little of our ability to dream.

I'd like to think not.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:06 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack Thieves

This article is probably old news... but it's still pretty funny. It's about a small town in Austria that just can't seem to keep their town signs around. Most of the thievery is blamed on the Brits, but I've gotta say, I'd be interested in more than just the "Sound of Music."

I thought it may be a joke, so I checked... it's true. And there's a couple of pictures of the signs. childish? Maybe. But it's still funny stuff.

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Question Time

I was asked this question the other night: If some one were to offer to buy you any car, or truck, with no strings attached, and no limits as far as spending, what would you ask for?

I'll post my answer when I get back from work.

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August 29, 2005


I think I'm going to have to notify the Big Guy when I'm making a joke...

After posting about my ride down to Tennessee, I emptied the dryer, shook out the clothes and folded them, grabbed my work shirt and left. I ran into the gas station to grab a Powerade (blue) and a breakfast sandwich. Walking from one side of the store to the other.

Got to work, and on the way in, stood in the aisle talking with one of my friends. Then hurried over to the time clock, punched in, and headed over to my area.

I put down my chow, walked over to my day guy, and got the lowdown on the jobs. Then I turned around and saw it...

A dryer sheet. I don't know where it was hiding, but I lugged it around for all to see. At least it wasn't toilet paper.

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Watching the sunrise, I was taken to another place, as my thoughts drifted.

I had ridden through the outlands of Hell for most of the night. Lightning strikes were close, and looked like demons shaking their long fingers at me. Every now and then, one would waggle his finger in my face, the flash and thunder simultaneous. For most of eight hours, I was bathed in the tears of lost souls. At one point, hailstones rained, as I tried to protect my hands from their crushing sting.

The wind had literally slid my bike across my lane of traffic, giving me an uncomfortable view of the ditch. And somewhere out there, there lurked at least one beast, twisting violenty and destroying all in it's path. Fortunately, I never met up with him.

I was cold, wet, and tired... no, exhausted as I turned towards Knoxville heading out of Lexington. As I rode, I shivered and waited for dawn, only an hour or so away. Soon, I entered heaven.

The darkness slowly gave way to an ambient light as I rode through the mountains, revealing scenes that gave me goosebumps upon my goosebumps. I was one of only four vehicles on the road, so we didn't have to share the pictures with many others.

Fingers of smoke drifted across the road, though no smoke could be detected. The Sun, an ominous red eye, could be seen trying to force it's way through the haze, and over the mountain tops. Our path was well lit, while in the valley to my right, the lights of a small town twinkled in the darkness. To descibe the scene in a word: ineffable. I know. Lame description, but it truly could not be described properly... at least not by me.

This is where riding a bike is so cool. While the other vehicles on the road got to enjoy this scene, I was part of it. I was it. Out in the open, on the bike, you become one with all around you, and it is one with you. Nearly god-like.

Now, I'm not saying I'm a god, ' least not in this instance, but should the Big Man Himself choose to buy me a beer in a moment like this, He could never be accused of fraternization.

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August 28, 2005


One week with no caffeine and no beer. Four days since the last two gin and tonics. No alcohol for another eight.

My thought process has been jacked with... I feel good, and I feel pissy all at once.

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August 27, 2005

Officer Krupke

Perhaps I overthought my post about the East Coast Story... I awoke to "Gee, Officer Krupke" echoing through my head.

I'm going to have to throw the movie in now for background noise as I clean. Or at least try to clean. I may just start dancing.

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Vote By Beer

My kind of survey.

The "Waehle mit der Kehle" poll allows beer drinkers at the Bundespressestrand to choose between the "Schroeder tap", which is painted in the SPD colour red, or the "Merkel tap", painted in Merkel's CDU banner colour of black.
Instead of percentage points, the leader is determined by litres.

Great for an opinion poll, but I'm not so sure you could use it for an election. Results could be interesting.

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August 26, 2005

East Coast Story

A co-worker and I were discussing football today, and the Dolphins came up. I have them as one of my defenses in fantasy football... not hoping huge things, but they do have some pretty good games. Anyway, he asked me why it was that Miami would choose Dolphins as their name, as opposed to Sharks, since Florida has had a few incidents lately, and sharks are just plain vicious by nature. I gave him my answer, then came home to research it, just to prove that I was right.

1959: The American Football League is organized. Joe Foss, a former Marine major, Air Force colonel, and South Dakota National Guard brigadier general, is the commisioner. One of the original teams is the New York Titans.

1961: West Side Story, featuring the delicious Natalie Wood, Rita Moreno, and a whole bunch of other people, is released.

1963: The Titans come under new ownership. Their name is changed to the Jets... most likely because the new owner really liked that movie. Foss is worried.

1965: Joe Robbie meets with Foss, who advises him to apply for a franchise in Miami. Everything falls into place as Miami becomes the first expansion team of the AFL. Robbie applies for the team name Sharks. Foss begins to have nightmares of team captains snapping their fingers as they approach each other for the coin toss. After visions of pirouetting linemen start, Foss tells Robbie that he needs to change the team name. Robbie is crushed, but decides to go with Miami Dolphins instead.

Foss was worried that half time celebrations would include knifings and stealing of the other team's cheerleaders. Choreographed tackles would not have been that far into the future. Thank the football gods for Joe Foss, and Joe Robbie's willingness to change.

After researching all of this, I found out that I may have been wrong about a couple of details. But I don't really think so.

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Gettin' Better

After eating a couple of loaves of moldy bread, I decided to get some modern antibiotics. Recovery has officially begun... thinking is kicking into low gear. But at least it's working. And I don't have to deal with mold spores anymore.

Thank you for the well wishes, and stopping by.

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August 23, 2005


I'm thinking that this guy lives in Hell.

I hate snakes.

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Yeah, I'm still alive, although I've been wishing for death. Sinus infection has caused my brain to leak out as a mixture of snot and pus. Thinking isn't happening on a regular enough basis, therefore no blogging.

I'll try to get better... like that time I was turned to a newt.

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Helpin Out... Again (NSFW)

Once again, out of the goodness of my heart, I've decided to help someone out. As always.

As you may know, this guy is one of my blog faddahs. He's going through some rough times, so he's decided to sell his dining room table.

Or, perhaps this is just his way of asking for some new clothes.

Don't get it?

Click the links, and notice the photography style. Check the mirrors.

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August 20, 2005

A Beer Question

Just a bit curious... does anyone know what "Heineken" actually means? It was the beer destroyed last evening, and while not that tasty, it wasn't bad. Today, I've been pondering the name.

After the wake up this morning, I am convinced that Heineken is Dutch for "Heinie From A Can." Literal translation: Butt beer. Ugh.

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Picture Perfect pt. 2

Last week, Silk started Picture Perfect where she give you three images, and you write 1000 words about the image of your choice, or all three if you're feeling adventurous. She also posted the images for this week's assignment. Well, this week's edition is up, as are the images for next week's. Make sure you head over there, and check the stories out! There are some really good ones there!

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August 19, 2005

All Part of Being So Damn Nice

Velociman doesn't do this much, but he's asking for some help. I'm sure that most of you already read him, but for those that don't, go on over and vote. Hell, that goes for those that do read him, too!

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August 18, 2005


I haven't hardly had any time to blog, or read blogs lately, and tonight was a fine example of why.

Had someone lined up to cut the weeds grass, but he hasn't been able to do it all week. Miscellaneous reasons. I decide that tonight it's off with the weeds' heads.

Just got in. 8:30. Dark. Hot. Humidity is up around 178.6%. I am soaked. I fear that I may have truly sweated my balls off. I'm a bit worried about that bit.

So I take off the clothes that look like I just got out of the pool, and I wonder: Most of this sweat is probably from beer, or Christmas tree juice (gin). Maybe I could wring it out of the clothes and imbibe once again.

But as I thought about it, I decided to pass. I don't want any grass clippings in my drink.

UPDATE: Good news... and it's got nothing to do with car insurance. Just got out of the shower, and I'm happy to announce: "The satchel is still there, and occupied. I repeat... there, and occupied. Thank you."

I'm off to seek liquid refreshment.

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Cleese Auction

Are you a fan of John Cleese? You really, really like him?

Really? Well, you're in luck. He's offering to share a piece of himself with his highest bidding fans.

A piece of John Cleese? Yes... his colon. Luck to all of you bidders.

UPDATE: If that link didn't work, try this one and scroll down to "Gutsy Role."

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A Question

From the back of Velocity, by Dean Koontz, comes an idea for a question. (And, yes, I had to buy the book.)

Suppose someone left you a note that said this:

"If you don't take this note to the police and get them involved, I will kill a lovely blond schoolteacher somewhere in Napa County. If you do take this note to the police, I will instead kill an elderly woman active in charity work. You have six hours to decide. The choice is yours."
What would you decide to do? Who dies?

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Tasty Tip

You want ranch dressing with a bit of zip?

Add some tabasco and mix well. Goes really good on spuds... especially fries.

Probably not an original idea, but DAMN it's good.

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August 17, 2005

Personal Ads

An interesting way to post a personal ad. I thought it pretty damned ingenious, if not desperate, although he did say that it was in fun.

It's much better than my idea to do the same with beer bottles... the fines for littering are adding up way too damn fast. Perhaps I shouldn't have included the arrow pointing to my house.

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As time goes, so goes my post. Hopefully I can give ya long one, soon. Until then, Shorty is my name.

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Advisory Follow Up

VW asked me to let you know how I brought up the topic of pubic hair at our advisory meeting.

Well, the meeting was yesterday, and I'm kinda ashamed to say that I brought it up in a different way than I had mentioned. I just informed them that we had small furry animals living in the urinals. The woman taking the minutes looked at me funny, so I explained that there were so many hairs in them, that it looked like there were a least two different hamsters in residence. I thought she was going to barf. Heheh....

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• Study Describes Bar at Center of Milky Way

Heaven, possibly? Nah, wrong kind of bar. Bastards.

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August 16, 2005

A Clever Trap

I've said before, women can be tricky. Once they're after you, you're pretty much done for.

Check out the latest snare. Notice the strategic placement of the scented decal. Chocolate and boobs. Mmmmmmmm.....

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Things are lookin' up for the 2008 elections, with the return of the Whig party. V-man outlines the platform. For more details, click the damn link.

Heheh... the world already seems like a brighter place!

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The Cut

After much deliberation, I finally decided to do it. But even after I pressed the blade to my skin, I was hesitant. I mean, I haven't actually shaved since April, using instead a beard trimmer without the guard.

Damn, this feels weird. Face feels... nekkid.

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August 15, 2005


Got to see the new niece yesterday. Nope, no pictures... sorry about that. Truly. But there'll be some, soon. She's a little cutie. Long red hair (already... it showed up on the ultrasound). I never got a good look at her eyes, but they may be green... she tried to open them, and I got a quick peek.

Her big brother is funny as hell to watch. Always trying to hug or kiss on her. Little man's a riot.

Got to hold the wee little lass, and she's tiny. She was five pounds, twelve ounces, and seventeen inches long. Almost a perfect fit along my forearm. As I held the little princess, I noticed quite the family resemblence. Nah, I'm not talking looks... she looks alot like her mother's side. That's probably a good thing.

As I cradled her, my hand under her little bottom, she filled her pants. And brother, did that little one stink!! That's the resemblence I was talkin' about! I was so proud. 'Course, I passed her off to her mother when it came diaper changing time.

Almost a perfect little kid. Almost. I mean, she seems kinda dense... four days old, and still not potty trained. Her mother assured me that she'll be just fine, but I don't know. I can only hope.

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August 14, 2005


Mark, over at WitNit, had a post up the other day concerning pet peeves. I left a couple of things that can irritate me, but they aren't really peeves. I started thinking about what pisses me off, and foolishly began to think that nothing really, truly sets me off unless I choose to let it. That lasted for all of a day.

I was reminded the following day of a couple different things that almost violently irritate me. Whistling, and not asking for a favor, but instead... well, I'll explain. We've got a new dispatcher. He drops off stock to each machine, and places the order sheets on top of the container. The old dispatcher would pull his forktruck around so he could just set or drop the paperwork on top. New guy gets off of the forklift to do this.

Being nicer than Gott himself, I placed the orders on the jobs for him a couple of weeks ago. It's not my job, but it's also no big deal... usually. Last week he pulls up, drops off the stock, and then leans out of the forktruck and shakes the paperwork at me. Instantly pissed, I just looked at him. So he shakes them again. Let me say right now, while not a violent person, if he had been close enough, I would have busted his hand. I was. that. pissed. I yelled at him, "WTF is that supposed to mean? I can't read your f*ckin' mind... am I a f*ckin cur, and that's my f*ckin' treat? WTF?" He apologized and asked me to put the orders on the jobs. I let him know that if he would ask, it's no real problem, but shake shit at me, and I ain't gonna help you!

The whistling bit is along the same lines. Whistling tunes doesn't bother me. It's whistling to gain someone's attention. They have a name. Call them. You whistle like that, I ignore you. Hell, I get pissed when people whistle for others' attention, not just mine. I don't care if you have my paycheck. You whistle, you ain't talking to me. Frustrates the boss when he's whistling behind you, trying to give you your check, and you just ignore him... I know. Heheh....

What are some of your pet peeves?

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Picture Perfect

Silk has taken up the mantle worn by Christina, and is now hosting Fictional Fridays. She's offering up a different variation of Take Two, as she presents three images, and the writer is to write a story of about 1000 words. The story can be of one image, or a combination of all three.

She's got some of the entries up, here, and here. My mind has been running in too many directions of late, so I've been easily distracted and put off. My entry is running very late, but I promised I would work up a story,
so here it is... though not a literary work of art.

The rains were falling, as Joe grabbed a beer, popped the top, and settled back in his desk chair. He checked through his e-mails, and found the writing assignment from Silk. She would give him three images, and he was to write a thousand words or less about the image of his choosing, unless he thought he might try to work all three together. It would be his call.

He watched as the first image started loading, complaining quietly to himself about the inadequacies of dial-up internet services. His complaints ceased as he viewed the first picture. With a slow smile spreading across his face, he was filled with thoughts of a past love. Things that had been, could have been, and maybe should have been, had he done things a bit differently. He chuckled to himself, "This may not be that hard of an assignment after all." He began typing.

As the second picture finished loading, another idea hit. It wouldn't just be a story of love gone wrong, but it would be a tragic story. A haunting tale. His mind spun with the possibilities that this could bring. "A ghost story," he finally decided. A story of a love thwarted by others. A love lost due to a brutal tragedy. The spirit of a sobbing woman searching eternally for that love lost. He grinned. "I could make this incredibly creepy." He deleted what small amount of story he had, and began typing in earnest, the stuttering click of the keys the only sound in the tiny room.

As he started laying the outline and various notes out, he began to think of tying all three images to his story, so he clicked on the download button for image number three. As he waited, he listened to the pouring rain, took a long pull of dopplebock, and sat back, savoring the full bodied malty taste. "Nothing like a good beer to kick the brain into overdrive," he murmured to himself.

As the third picture finished loading and appeared on his monitor, the unfinished bottle crashed to the floor, a knot forming in his gut. Sweat beaded on his brow, his face glowing pale as he stared at the last image. "This ain't funny! Why'd she send this?" His mind was filled with flashes of bright lights. Lightning? Or were these memories?

Unconsciously, he began rubbing the small lump at the base of his skull, as memories began piling up behind his eyes. Playing in the old barn as a child, when he felt himself flying through the roof. The tall bald stranger with the deep black eyes who appeared in the haymow from seemingly nowhere. Nosebleeds.

His encounters as a child were relatively harmless. Painless. Gray strangers, watching him. Talking to him, but not. Communication through thoughts. Some type of ESP. What the hell had they told him?

They kept coming as he got older. Less friendly. Taking samples of his skin. Sharp instruments displayed. Lost time, and cuts and bruises unexplained.

They were calling him even now, forcing him to get up and walk outside. The light in the sky. The bright light overhead, the cold table. The grays. Don't stick me with that! No emotion from the bastards. Pain shooting through his genitals. Blackness.

A warm trickle woke him, a droplet of blood coursing down the corner of his mouth, and landing on his arm. Joe wiped the blood away, and looked around. Visibly relieved, he was still sitting at his desk, clothing damp from sweat, bottle of beer on the floor. "That's a sin," he thought to himself. He examined the third image, looking at it scornfully. "How in the hell is a person supposed to pull a story from that?!" He wiped a new trickle of blood away, as he thought, pondered the possibilities. Realizing that he would not be able to tie all three images together, he resumed his ghost story.

As he started typing again, the trickle became a steady flow, and he reached for a kleenex to staunch the flow of blood, then stopped cold. There were wet footprints leading to his desk...

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August 12, 2005

Quick News

My ma's been having a stressful time lately. To the point it's starting to affect her health. Well, today, one of the pieces of the serenity puzzle looks as if it's going to drop into place. Very cool.

And speaking of cool things... I've got a new niece! Cute little bugger. I was trying to check out the pictures, but I kept getting dust in my eyes. Yeah, that's what happened. I'm planning on going up to see her Sunday, so maybe there'll be a picture posted.

Cyber cigars for everyone!

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There's something about a woman moving to music. Soft, slow, subtle movements, a slight smile on her face... sexy. Whether she's unaware of being watched, or just doesn't give a damn, it's hot.

Once aware of being observed, however, things can change. Especially if she puts on the "Look, I'm Sexy" face. Things can go from hot to hilarious in a matter of seconds. (I have been known to actually start laughing, which doesn't go over well in a strip club.)

Last Saturday, at Ozzfest, I saw an exhibition that nearly had me rolling on the ground laughing. Shadows Fall (there's music on the link) were playing a thrash metal song, and I noticed a woman dancing to it... or trying to. Not a bad looking girl, she had the "Sexy" face on to full setting. Her head was hardly moving. Meanwhile, the rest of her looked like she was having some sort of siezure... appendages going in all directions.

Maybe it's one of those "you had to be there" moments, but it killed me. And best, or maybe worse... she saw me laughing. I think I may have hurt her feelings. Oops. Sorry. Heheh....

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:31 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 11, 2005

Another Question

One thing that used to piss me off while growing up, was my friends' parents' denial of any wrongdoing on their sons' part. "No, my son would never do that. No way." Maybe it was because we grew up in religious households, and to admit that your kid had done wrong was to admit sin. I don't know.

I do know that it didn't work that way in our house. At all. Not that my mom would believe everything that was told to her, but she considered it possible. She'd ask us, and we told her the truth. It didn't pay to try and pull a fast one on her.

I've seen it more often now, and to greater extremes. No longer just denial, but covering things up as well. I can't follow it, but then again, I am without spawn. There is no way in hell that my mother would have covered for us... if we did something, we payed for it.

All that, just to intro a question: As a parent, would you ever cover for your child after he/she had done something considered wrong? And if so, where would you draw the line?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:20 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 10, 2005


Seems like I've be out and about on some of the evenings I've chosen to imbibe. Typing out comments freely.

I've been looking at some of them, and I don't know what the hell they're supposed to mean. A fine example is one I left for Harvey. "Wake the f*ck up, and drink your Cheerios!" I was laughing my ass off when I left that, but when I came back the next day, I hadn't a clue as to what I was trying to say.

I know that there really is a hidden brilliance in these comments. You just need to be in the right state of mind, and I will then be found a hero. You see a comment from me that makes no sense at all, drink. Drink plenty. Your life will be brighter. Guaranteed.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:14 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Been seeing things like this, and it just pisses me off. During the trial, the media was busy painting up the framing of Ms Jackson, and trying to show his innocence. Now they are hopping onto stories concerning jurors having second thoughts.

To them all, I say this: The trial is done and over with. You bastards had your chance to do what was right. The Queen of Poop is free, and you all can live with it, either in pride, or shame. Now sit down, shut the hell up, and accept what you've done.

A classic line:

"I kept asking myself, is there any slight possibility that this boy might lie at all? And my answer was yes," she said.
And you never thought to ask if the singer thingie might lie.

I feel like puking when I read about "I was bullied, or I was threatened." You're fricking grownups, not MJ targets.

Bastards will make a killing off of their "stories" anyway.

I think I may possibly hate them all.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:12 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

The Flying Numbskull

Did ya see the White Sox beat theYankees? (Sorry, Ogre!) Great game. Been a great series so far, with a split between the two. Today's matchup of Freddie Garcia (CWS) vs. Aaron Small (NY) should be just as good.

Anyway, if you were watching the game last night, you probably saw a Yankee fan, hovering in mid-air. Okay, he wasn't actually hovering, but the idiot was on top of the safety screen behind home plate. It was pretty funny seeing him knock himself silly. And he did... he did it to himself. No one tossed him over, he decided he'd test the strength of the net, and dropped forty feet to the net below. Darwin comes to mind.

The best line from the article was this:

"After the final out, he was carried from the ballpark on a stretcher, his head immobilized in a neck brace, and taken to Lincoln Medical Center, where he was in stable condition at early Wednesday, hospital spokeswoman Jill Brooker said..."
I'll admit, it's not funny reading that, but if you had watched the scene on television... heheheh. These precautions taken after he was jerked over the railing, and led away (violently) by security. At least they started to lead him away like that... could have let up once out of the camera's line of sight.

It's not that I feel sorry for the guy, because he asked for it. I just found that line funny when compared to what happened.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 01:14 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 09, 2005

Aww Crap!

My blog reading of late has been lacking... time isn't in my favor lately. But I do try to hit all the bloggers I've met, then alternating Bad Example Family members (if I don't have time to hit them all), and finally a couple of favorites that I try to catch everyday.

Well, one of my favorites is calling it quits. The reasons given are true to self and good, but it doesn't mean I'm not going to miss reading that blog. She's done a hell of a lot with other bloggers, as far as inspiring them to write, and has truly changed the way that many of us look at blogs.

The only positive that I can see about her departure, is that I'll have more time to try and read other blogs. Heh... no offense to any of you, but I'd rather keep trying to cram time.

I truly wish you the best in all you do, Chrissy. You'll be missed.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:36 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 08, 2005

Money Making Op

Am I drunk? And if so, why?

Guess correctly, and you could win five whole US dollars. Guess wrong, and it'll only cost you a measly four ninety. A bargain! Paypal button to be set up pending amount of losers.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:58 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Pot Roast

Walking past a co-worker today, I was reminded of a promise that I had forgotten. He said nothing, but he was eating pot roast.

I said before that I would let you know how, by quoting a movie line, I kept a friend from getting sick. Here it is.

J and I were going up to Madison to check into prices for some tattoos that we were going to get done. We decided to make a day of it, and brought his fiancee and her mother along.

When we got to the tat shop, the artist that we wanted to talk to had a family emergency, and had to bolt. C, J's fiancee, suggested that we go over to where she had been working, and check out what they had been working on... meet some co-workers.

She and her mother were all excited as we pulled up. (C is involved with bio-medical crap, and her mother is a nurse). We followed C through hallways until we came to the room that she had been working in.

As we entered the room, we were greeted with a strong chemical smell, and three long stainless steel tubs... her co-workers. Yes, if you haven't guessed by now, CADAVERS.

She popped the covers off, and started explaining about each one, and some of what they were working on. J and I watched as she and her mother held up organs, and poked and prodded the bodies. I can't say that I was totally thrilled, but it was interesting.

She noticed that we were just hanging back in silent fascination, so she asked if we wanted to handle one. You know how guys are... so half-heartedly, we agreed. J made himself touch a deltoid, and he was done. I touched the deltoid (felt kinda cool), and as C started talking about the tendons in the hand, I played with them. Creepy, but very cool when you think of how it all works.

About this time, J was starting to look a little pale... sweating. He reminded me of Haley Joel Osment in "The Sixth Sense." So I looked up from the cadaver to him, and whispered, "I see dead people." It got us both to laughing, and got our minds off of the residents of the tubs. A good thing, too, since the reality of them being ex-humans was starting to set in.

Anyways, for the rest of our time there, whenever things got creepy, one of us would toss that out, and get us laughing again. Worked even at the restaurant afterwards. I was okay after the first bite of shredded beef, but that first bite was a little rough. See, the deltoid that we were checkin' out, had a section cut out of it. The way the muscle was layered, and looked, closely resembled pot roast. As I pondered my shredded deltoid beef, J says, "I eat dead people." I'm not sure that really helped, but it was funny. Later. Much later.

I'm sure I know of at least one who has, but anyone else ever had the opportunity to check out a gift to science?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:41 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 07, 2005

Ozzfest Observation

Perhaps it's just me, but I found it more than a little disturbing to see couples start making out to death metal.

I love metal, but damned if I can ever find romance in it. More of a blues guy, when it comes to that.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:56 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


My sister's boys have christened "The Perfect One's" (my brother) little boy with a new nickname. He is now known as "Corndog." When I asked why, her eldest said, "Don't tell him,* but he has a rectangle shaped head."
*Like he would understand... he's not yet sixteen months old!

While the reasoning is a little lacking, I do like the fact that they are already passing out new names for others. Seems to be a family trait.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:42 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Because I Care

Again, I endure so that others may know. Disgusting displays of flesh. Bared midriffs. Bared mammary units. Loud music. Hot sun. Bikini tops. Drunken idiots. Great bands. Watching a clown in a dunk tank try to electrocute himself by grabbing a microphone. (I still bust up laughing about the choked off scream.) $6 bottles of water. New gum samples: Mint Tingle, by Trojan...errrr.... wait. Now I know why that tasted so damn weird!

Why do I do this? For you. It's because I care about you. I will throw myself into harm's way so that you ungrateful bastards don't have to suffer through Ozzfest, but can still hear of it's evils. And I will do it again next year, no matter how little my sacrifice is appreciated.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:39 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 05, 2005

Advisory Concern

My Advisory Committee meeting is coming up next Tuesday, and I've got a strange concern to bring up. Well, strange to some. Urinal mints.

Men's restrooms are not a bouqet of pleasant fragrances wafting through the air. They smell funky. I don't care how clean they are, they reek. One thing for killing/hiding this aroma is urinal cakes... or mints, as we call them. (Don't try them... they usually taste nothing like what you'd think.)

We must have just switched, because we no longer have the "almost clean smelling" pink urinal mints, which didn't taste like cherry, strawberry, or any pleasant thing. Now, we have the "doesn't this remind you of a public park outhouse" scented green tabs. (I can't get close enough to taste them, so you'll have no description.) Rancid.

I'm not sure if it's just the mint, or maybe a chemical reaction going on. No, not urine. I'm talking about public hair. (Yes, I know)

I swear to Gott that some bastard, or bastards, are shaving their pubes, or maybe even each other's, and leaving the piles in the urinals. I mean, there are HEAPS of hair in these things. And of course, no one is in a hairy to clean them out, either.

Who can blame them? Piss soaked pubes fermenting on a rancid urinal mint.

Wonder how I can bring this up tactfully.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:02 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Duff's Law

Just thought that I'd share something with you. While at Eric's, he asked me about Illinois' strange gun laws. It wasn't a long conversation, but I told him that as it goes in Chicago, so goes Illinois. Governor Daley uses his dummy governor, "Blagojevich" (he does look like a dummy, doesn't he?), to do his bidding, as Daley poses as mayor of Chi-town. Ah, but I'm drifting yet again.

Found this little piece that just kind of illustrates how messed up things can be around here. I'm not going to go on a rant, for there are others that can get the job done right... I'm just offering this up for your consideration.

A woman is told by a judge that she must give a gun to her convicted felon ex-husband. Against the law. She refuses, and goes to jail for a few hours. Now, I'm thinking that she probably did get a little belligerent. The jail time was for contempt.

The gun was a nine millimeter pistol, a gift from the ex's father, to him. I can understand wanting it back, but to ask for it in a legal proceeding... I'm thinking he didn't get any brains as a gift from old dad. Anyway, it is illegal... ILLEGAL... for a convicted felon to own a firearm!

This also gives weight to the saying, "We don't need to draft any new gun laws... just to enforce the ones already in place." If a judge can't even follow the law, how is it to be expected that anyone else will? What good will new laws do?

What think you?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:00 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 04, 2005

Yet Another Birthday!

VW is celebrating her 29th birthday, again! I know it's a little late, but go on over and wish her a good one! While you're there, make sure you check out her nekkid photos!

Happy Birthday, VW!!!

Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap! It's also Pam's b-day, too! Get thee hence, and wish them well!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:45 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Okay, I know that there is still time remaining in the day, but I'm getting worried about Sissy leaving us without a "It's Tardsday" post. Tardsday was in full swing here, so I'll give you a recap.

Going to work this morning, I get to see an excellent exhibition of road rage... and it wasn't by me. I watched stunned as a moron pulled in front of another vehicle. The other driver had to stand on the brakes, but he missed. Didn't even end up getting too close to the moron's vehicle.

What got me, was the driver that just had to pull out, in such a hurry, was only doing 40 mph in a 55 zone. As the other vehicle made to pass him, moron sped up. I think they had to be approaching 70 before the other vehicle accomplished the pass. The whole time, moron is waving his hands all over, and, it appeared, screaming.

Best part was the fact that this display of speed lasted for roughly a mile before we all came upon a long chain of cars... stuck behind a driver's education driver. Heheh... that was worth it!

Get to work, and find out that due to major mis-communication between our engineers and the customer's, I ran a complete job as scrap. Not my fault, but damn if that doesn't piss me off. I take quality issues personally. You should have seen the paperwork for this order, though... contradictions left and right, and not all were between the different groups of engineers!

Of course, I made my own contribution to the day. I was working on an air cylinder, and forgot to bring my brain with me.

Air cylinders have two ports: alternating which one becomes intake controls the cylinder movement. This cylinder was starting to run a little rough, so I got some light oil, disconnected the air lines, and started to work it manually. With each cycle, I sprayed some oil in the port.

Well, that only lasted for one cycle before the oil that I had sprayed in what had previously been the "intake," came spraying out of the new "exhaust." Did I catch on? Nope. Did it one more time, and good. I have these really cool looking safety glasses now... can't see, but I look cool.

How was your Tardsday?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:42 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 03, 2005

Eye Catching

Brilliant bit of advertising, this is.

Some people have no sense of humor.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:27 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Just Curious

I'm awfully tired, yet kinda happy. Spent 14 1/2 hours doing a tear down and rebuild of a machine at work. Kinda like my old job! Felt good to actually see that you did something, instead of standing in front of a frickin' machine watching and checking parts.

Anyway, I was going to do a bit of research about this next bit, but I'm hittin' the hay as soon as I'm done with this post.

An acquaintance wrecked his bike after a deer ran out in front of him. Hit the deer, and wrecked badly. They just had a benefit for him, because his medical bills were not covered by his insurance. Bike was payed for, while he and his passenger were not. I thought this sounded fishy, but he swore that his insurance, and he had found others, would not cover medical in the event of "an act of God."

A deer running out in front of you is an act of God? Seems more like an act of a deer... with a death wish.

And who's to take the blame for the act if an atheist were to have this accident? Can't possibly be an act of something that isn't there! At least not to him. How do you make this fly?

And while you can't collect from your insurance company, is it possible to slap God with a civil lawsuit, and how would one go about it?

I'm just curious.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:34 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 02, 2005

Question... Again

Hypothetically, you've lost your license due to a DUI... or more. You are drivin' home, when you see an oncoming vehicle flash their lights at you. You think you see a shadow, then all hell breaks loose. You find that you've hit a very large animal... car totalled. The oncoming vehicle stops to make sure you're alright, and calls police.

What would you do to avoid getting busted?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:08 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Strange Dream

I'm walking through a beautiful park, all's quiet and still. Too still. As I hit an unlit area, I see a figure motioning me towards him. Cautiously, I make my way towards the shape.

It's a guy who looks a lot like Rob Zombie. He says, "Hey, you wanna see something cool? Stay right there," then walks a short distance away. He then begins calling for a cop.

Cop appears on the scene, Zombie-lookin' guy starts pointing at me, and talking very emphatically. Cop unholsters his sidearm, and yells at me to "freeze."

He works his way towards me, with Zombie-dude right behind. As he nears, a knife is suddenly visible in Z-man's hand. A big knife. There's a flash, and a huge gash appears in the officer's neck. I'm showered with blood.

After, another slash, the head is tossed in my direction, with the body somersaulting right behind. "Cool, huh?"

I wake up.

Yeah, I know... weird. But at least I didn't get gutted in this one.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:23 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 01, 2005

Sixth Sense

"I see dead people..."

I love that movie...

Also the catch phrase that can keep a person from getting sick... explained some other time.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:21 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Power Of The Mind

You ever caught yourself dreaming about blogging something? I'm pretty sure you have.

But did you ever bring yourself back from the brink of sleep with an idea, or past event, that just had to be told? So you rush to your computer to begin jotting down your notes, and then realize that the event never happened? You literally just dreamed it up? And then, as you realize that it was just a dream, you feel as if you've lost part of your past...

I have. Many times.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:45 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 31, 2005


Last night, we started off with a sort of mini-meet. Contagion, Anathematized, Tammi, and introducing Ktreva, Contagion's wife. I was very glad to meet her, and she was a blast to talk with... if you could ever manage to talk over the "shy" one.

Tammi went to work right away trying to pick up one of the locals even though I tried to warn her. Actually, I probably seemed like a dick, because I've talked with the dude before, and while he's strange, he's not bad to talk to for a couple of seconds. But he has a tendency to fall in love with whatever woman makes eye contact with him. So I yelled, "Don't do it," and even HE heard me. Tammi just waved me off and said something about ruining it for her. Okay, not really. But he did hear me.

Had a great dinner, great conversation with great people, even Contagion, and a couple of drinks. Did a couple of shots of Jameson, with Contagion in between our three drinks, getting him to finally open up and start talking. Then he had to call Bou, who we found out was ten sheets to the wind. That was the report, I'm not making it up.

Anathematized was trying to tell me about setting up my new blog and trying to answer questions, but I tell you... being a techno tard, what made sense last night, has just faded today. Heheh... at least she got to talk to me!

One of the locals (Fritz's daughter) thought I should entertain the rest of the group, so we "arranged" to have her pull my chair out from under me as I tried to sit down. It was a smashing success, and a good laugh was had by all. Once again, I had to save the day!

I also had to defend my drink of choice for the evening. Gin and tonic. I've never liked the stuff until my visit to Eric's, where I discovered that once mixed with tonic, the evergreen flavor is almost gone. It's light, refreshing, and if you should happen to ralph it up, you can save it and scrub floors!

Finally made it home, where ironically, I had a couple of Riggwelters. (You have to scroll down a little to find the description.) A delicious, dark, Yorkshire ale. I say ironically, because of the name. Riggwelter: from the Old Norse; rygg - back, and velte - to overturn. When a sheep is on it's back and cannot get up without help, local dales dialect says it's rigged, or riggwelted. Of course, on this side of the pond, one would say that it is Harveyed. But I'm drifting.

As I mentioned in the post below, I ended up falling out of my chair while trying to type and read. Wish I could see some video of me... I know I was laughing my ass off over some of my comments. Which today look stupid as hell. Fairly usual, I might say. Anyway, got laughing so hard, I hit the floor. However, I was able to regain an upright position without any help.

Today, I have to tell you that I feel cheated. For I have not a bit of a hangover. All that work, and no suffering... how lucky can I get!

It was a great time, and I'm looking forward to the next one!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:54 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


It's seven thirty... time to rise and shine. Or in my case, go back to bed. Not hurting... yet. I do feel as if I were using a coniferous branch to brush my teeth, though.

The blogcrawl thingie seems to have worked out fairly decently. Although, I never made it all the way through my blogroll, and I really wanted to. Fell out of my rickety frickin' chair, took that as a sign, and hit the hay. That was gettin' a bit late... not as late as Sissy, Morrigan, Napster, and Spurs. Or even Bloodspite. But pretty damned close.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:28 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Blame Eric for this stupidity. 130 d9lloats worth of gin an tibucs,,, gegegeg,,,

He amy be a bro, but h'es the dude who talked me into trinkin gin.... christmast treee squwwwzuings.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:24 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 30, 2005

Time 3:30... It begins

"Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging; and whosever is deceived thereby is not wise."

Proverbs 20:1

Heheh... screw it. I'm getting a head start. Let the wisdom flow!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:28 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

The Challenge

Mark at Witnit has this week's 25 Word Challenge up.

Go play.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:25 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


4 o'clock. Fritz's Wooden Nickel, Stillman Valley, Il.

I shall be there wearing the Blackfive shirt, prepping for the Blogcrawl. 'Course, if you are looking to off me, I'll actually be the guy next to the one in the B5 shirt.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:15 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 29, 2005

Nature's Best

Driving home this evening, I passed through an area that is teeming with deer. I wasn't to be disappointed. As I pulled over a rise, I saw two small figures in the road. At first glance, I thought that they may be coyotes. But as I approached, I saw that they were fawns. Cute little buggers.

One thing I love about hunting, is that you get to watch nature up close. If you're still, wildlife will either not notice you, or ignore you. I love to see the deer especially.

If I had been on foot, there is no way on earth that I could have gotten close enough to enjoy the little ones. In the car, they just watch as you get closer, until they try to bolt.

Another thing I love is fresh venison backstraps.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:34 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


You may have been wondering what my "Just Checking Something Out" post was all about. Though I'm sure most of you have figured it out, it was a response to this post from Harvey.

In it, he says:

"With a well thought out post, you may raise responses in your readers' heads, but then you cover those points, so there's nothing left to say but "nice post", which is too lame to leave as a comment.

With a two-line throwaway, the responses aren't addressed, so your readers leave them as comments.

The less YOU say, the more you leave for your readers to say."

I figured "bullshit." I'll give you the absolute minimum, and see where you go from there. I didn't expect to get this many comments. It is less than Harvey, but then you start to figuring; as of this moment, he's got 13 comments off of his post, and I've got 10. He gets around 530 hits a day, and I average around 90-95. So that means that Harvey got about 2.5% of his visitors to leave a comment, whereas I had roughly 10.5% of mine leaving comments.

So this actually does prove him correct, as my ratio of comments to visitors on stupid posts far surpassed his. However, I think it has nothing to do with this at all. My readers like me a hell of a lot more than Harvey's like him. And I think Harvey's number of stupid posts far surpasses mine. Heheh.....

Seriously, I think it's pretty true as to the well written posts. Example (one of many): Teresa of Technicalities. Always has well written posts, yet hardly any comments. I sometimes wonder why, but then I realize that I myself haven't left a comment. Hardly seems fair for someone to work so hard, and get no acknowledgement.

Oh, well. I won't complain. As long as you all have fun reading my inane posts, and others' comments, things are cool. It's all about the fun!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:58 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


I'm pretty sure that someone inserted a railroad spike into the base of my skull, then drove it towards my forehead. It's causing profuse sweating, pulsating pain, and a sensation of eating cotton. Going back to bed.

Can't wait for the Blogcrawl Saturday. Must stock up on pedialyte.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:54 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 28, 2005

Just Checking Something Out


Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:20 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Another Birthday!

Now that Bou's gone and spilled the beans first, I think I can announce that today is Tammi's Birthday without getting into to much trouble.

Hope you have a great one, Tammi!

Now go on over and wish her a happy birthday!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:59 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Nosy Meme

Got hit with another meme. This one wants folks to list what's on their night stand. Keep in mind a couple of things: I'm a bachelor, and this is an open nightstand.

lamp, qty: one
small fan, qty: one
Western skinning knife, qty: one
Legler hunting knife, qty: one
free drink chips, qty: three
change, qty: roughly four American dollars
wedding invitation, qty: one
carved ebony elephant figurine, qty: one
empty Erdinger bottle, qty: one
"Lost Battalions," by Franz Steidl
"William Wallace," by D. J. Gray
"Song of Susannah," by Stephen King
"Mathematics for the Million"
"The Journals of Eleanor Druse," by "Eleanor Druse"
"Sackett's Land," by Louis L'Amour
"Kilkenny," by Louis L'Amour
jar of silver dollars and half dollars, qty: ?

If I were to own a gun or few, I might say that any attempts to snoop around my nightstand may result in a S&W 6906 or SW9V being discharged in your direction. However, I wouldn't keep them on the nightstand...again, that's to say if I owned one. This is Illinois, America's Cuba.

I was going to pass it on, but I see it's already taking off. So if you want to do it, either do it in the comments, or let me know when you've done it on your blog, and I'll link to ya.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:35 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Quick Post

Not much time to post, but I've gotta say, going through some of the headlines today had me busting up. Some were because of the picture I formed after reading it, and a couple were just the headline itself. Here's a couple, maybe a few.

Rabid Kitten Found, 19 People Treated: I've told you, cats are evil... even those "cute" little kittens.

Goose Poop and What to Do About It: Headline only. Nothing said about free Christmas geese.

Kenyan Waits For Bill Clinton's Answer On An Offer of 40 goats, 20 Cows To Marry Daughter: I'm wonderin' if Willie hasn't responded because he thought the offer was for Chelsea to marry the animals. Dowry, Bill. Not a sex farm.

And speaking of farms; Cows Put In A Bubble To Measure Emissions: Bet you can't guess which state this is in.

ANOTHER ONE: OJ Simpson Slammed For Sattellite TV Swiping: I'm not sure why they make a big deal out of this... as long as he's busy doing petty things like this, he's not killing anyone.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:54 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 27, 2005

Raging Mom

Read this post yesterday, and while I agree with her, I couldn't help but grin. She had some incredibly nice things to say about Fonda, Jane.

Raging Mom, of The Splatter Zone... it fits. Check her out.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:30 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

It's All About The Chair

Funny how it works... you get an idea on something to blog about, sit down at the computer, and go blank. Another great idea, potentially world changing, is gone. Never to be seen again. You suffer, and know that the world is also going to suffer from lack of your brilliance. Fortunately for them, they'll never know... at least not until someone blogs about it.

I'm thinking in my case, it's the chair. My desk chair is dead, and it knows it. However, it hasn't broken and fallen over, yet, so I try to milk another week's service from it. I may be stifling my creativity.

Over the weekend, I sat in an ambassador's chair. Immediately, ideas poured into my head, and I heard angelic hosts singing. I stood up, and they were gone. I now know how the man writes so well. The Chair.

I'm thinking I should get me a cathedra. I may have to lift it from a church, but imagine the posts that it may inspire!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:28 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 26, 2005

When Jello Goes Bad

Sissy wants to know if jello goes bad.

Yes. Yes, it does.

Beware the bad jello.

Hosted by Imageshack

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:05 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Cicadas' Song

When it came time to head back home Sunday morning, I was serenaded by cicadas. I don't know, but I think it was a barbershop quartet. Anyway, I've had this song from Clutch (off of The Elephant Riders) running through my head for the last couple of days. 'Specially this part:

"...ain't ever seen it, but I have heard it.
Sounds like the millstones when they are turning,
but every moment getting louder and louder,
and then there is silence,
and the smell of flowers."

Damn, I wish I could play it for you. But I am working on that.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:39 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Runnin' For The Hills

After careful consideration of all of the suggestions on how to dispose of "evidence," I realized that most of you are a little touched... and that's okay. As a matter of fact, that's very good! You are all great muses.

I had originally thought to tell you a great tale. A tale of a hypothetical blogger in need of evidence disposal, and his journey to get rid of incriminating "snapping turtle bait." His run to the Blogoshere Embassy and the Ambassador of the Blogoshere, seeking asylum. But alas, I'm not going to do it.

Instead, I'll tell you that my trip down to Eric's was a blast. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there were no knifin's, slicin's, or beatings. Not a single sippie cup. It was a very relaxing trip, and we got to visit a hell of a lot. It may or may not have been evident in my blogging, but I was in need of a vacation... short though it was.

My first day, I think I startled Eric when I called him from Knoxville. I managed to arrive somewhere around 1:30-2:00, after I napped. Hey, I'm not Superman... a man's gotta rest at least once a month. Once I got there, I promptly drained his stash of Shiner Bock. Good, good stuff. We hung out talking, and I watched as he shared the secrets of his "spaghetti sauce." Spaghetti sauce, my ass. That stuff is way too intricate to call spaghetti sauce! I'd share with you, but then I would have to off all who read this... and that's alot of miles to run. So until he offers to share, you folks are out of luck.

That evening we watched Zulu. First time ever seeing that movie, while I had heard of it. Damn good flick... seriously. I loved the defense of the poor bastards stuck at the post. I will say though, were I ever to see Jack Hawkins' character, first I would have to fight the urge to run away screaming... he died in '73. Then I would attempt to dot his frickin' eye... this character screams, "Beat the everlovin' piss out of me, because you're all going to die!" Anyway, we ended up having a discussion about the movie and tactics... cool.

Next day, we ran up to the mountains. His wife had the day off, and went with us. Damn good time, once again. A little bit of teasing and pokin' fun. Drove the Cherohala Skyway, or rather, part of it. Then we headed up to the mountains. Got chow at a little bistro on the way back, where Eric had a bowl of $8 soup... and I'll someday have a pic to prove it. Damn good soup... even if it was a variation of P-r-ogresso! (Inside joke)

One thing... Eric almost dumped me into the river. Not as if he'd pushed me, or anything like that. As you know, I have a severe opposition to snakes. I was walking down to the river, keeping my eye on the rocks, when I jumped. As I jumped, Eric says, "Watch out for snakes!" 'Course, me being a huge chicken, once I heard "snake," my imagination told me that he yelled, "Watch out for the snakes." As I landed, my legs turned to jello, and I about bit it.

Got back, and proceded to spend the hours drinking, talking, and laughing well into the next morning. A great time.

This isn't the first time I've met the man... back in March, I was privileged to meet him. But this was a great time to sit and visit.... I really didn't want to do much other than kick back, relax, and bullshit. And the man delivered.

I've got to tell you right now, it was one of the best weekends I've had in a long while. And getting to know Eric and his wife a little better was a great way to spend it. I must tell you, should you ever have a problem with the man and/or his wife, tell me immediately, and I shall promptly dot your eye. You'll be hard pressed to meet people like them.

Eric, I owe you big time... thanks again, Bro! When I get the chance to reciprocate, believe me, I will.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:07 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 24, 2005

Return Of That 1 Guy

Well, I'm back. I've returned safely, soundly, and friggin' sweatingly. No relief all the way back... major dehydration going on right now. And yes, I blame the heat, and not the 1 or 2 gin and tonics disposed of last evening. Okay, maybe there were a couple more, but still. I blame the heat.

Was really hoping to do up a proper post tonight, letting you know how things went while I visited with the Ambassador Of the Blogosphere. But I'm fried. I want to do the man justice.

I'll try to post first thing in the morning.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:08 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 21, 2005

Hypothetical Question #5,328

I think we've all felt the urge to throttle someone at one time or another. If opportunity offered, would you do it? And say that you chose to answer in the affirmative, how would you dispose of ... uh.... "evidence?

Again, purely hypothetical. Heheh....

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:01 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 20, 2005


Cardinal Corey Taylor:"This is the year where hope fails you...
The test subjects run the experiments.
And the bastard you know, is the hero you hate.
But cohesing is possible if we try
Theres no reason, theres no lesson
No time like the present, tell me right now...
What have you got to lose, what have you got to lose
Except your soul...who's with us?!"

From the book of St. Joseph , chapter 6, verse 66: "Yea, I say unto thee, if a friend shall ask of thee, 'Drink, my brother, for I am in pain,' ye shall drink. And if he shall ask of you to partake in Jack's (of the family Daniels) whiskey, you shall say unto him, 'Brother, your pain is my pain, and your drink, mine.' And ye shall partake.

67: For a brother's pain is a great burden to bear alone, but is a joy unto thyself when shared. Strong drink shall increase thine wisdom, and alleviate the suffering of fools.

Sounded pretty good, huh? Well I lost it. I had a great post all worked up, and it's vanished. My sides hurt, but there's no longer anything to laugh at.

All I remember is that I was going to piss off a few, and probably draw a cult following to me with the remainder, but it is not to be. A pity too, because I'm sure most of you would have loved it, left hundreds of comments, and devoted your lives to following me.

I've got to get me one of them "talky into thingies" that save your voice.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:25 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Made Me Chuckle

Saw this gif (or whatever it's called) over at SilentWarrior's place, Ramblings of an Ordinary.

Take away the actual typing part at the beginning, and go straight to the end... you've got me. Trying to post.

Check it out.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:53 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Once, Christmas Day, I awoke to a furious pounding on the wall or door. I got up to check it out, and found nothing... nobody. After taking care of the usual proceedings following a wake up, I went back to bed.

Just as I was drifting off to sleep again, I heard a loud SNAP. I looked around without getting out of bed, and turned my back to the room. I soon heard soft footsteps moving swiftly across the room and stopping by the bed. Immediately after they stopped, I felt an ice cold hand pushing on my hip, as if trying to shake me awake. No worries there... I was wide awake. And scared to death. Being the brave soul that I am, I remained in the same position. I don't think I could have moved if I had felt the urge.

After a few seconds pause, the footsteps retreated. I strained to hear the door being used. A couple of minutes later, I got up and checked things out.

Deadbolt? Still locked.

Hip? Still cold.

Last night, I heard that same frickin' SNAP about four times. I got up right away, and still discovered nothing out of the ordinary. But I didn't turn my back on the room this time.

I wasn't scared so much as very uneasy. Hard to sleep like that.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:46 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 19, 2005

Death of an Artist

I'm a little creeped right now. I just found out today that I have killed an artist... no, dozens of artists. And the saddest thing of all is that I meant to kill them. I just didn't realize at the time that their elegant little creations were indeed masterpieces. Unfortunately, I saw their works, and the only interpetation I came up with, was that I was supposed to be angry.

I've poisoned some, beat others, even broke a few necks when I offered food and drink to them. Perhaps the most violent death I've ever seen of an artist was when my brother got one to stick his tongue against cold metal, and then proceded to beat him to death against the studs of a structure... while still keeping control of his tongue.

Today, I wrestle with guilt. After reading this article, I realize that I am a murderer. All the uncontrollable wrath I've felt after seeing "exhibitions" on display, and the vengeance I've wreaked soon after. Not only at the farm, but here in town, too. I should probably turn myself in.

I'll probably never know what demarcates an artist from a pest. But I still believe that rodents chewing things up need to be exterminated. I've done it before, and I'll do it yet again.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:47 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


a word that shouldn't be used in the company of "friends."

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:29 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

What's In Your Past Life?

Found this over at Rev. Lick's and figured I had to post it. Not so much my past life, but the results I got when I put Harvey's name in. Although, I'm pretty sure that both TNT and Contagion will have something to say about mine:

Quiz Me
That 1 Guy was
a Rich Serial Killer
in a past life.

Discover your past lives @ Quiz Me

Here was Harv's*:

Quiz Me
Harvey was
a Miserly Fecal Artist
in a past life.

Discover your past lives @ Quiz Me

This may explain his penchant for money art, and his ability to spread bullshit.

*I may have edited it a bit.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:16 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

No Time To Post

I wish I had a bit more for time. I was going to post about going to the Brewer game, and how it was a pretty good game. About the ground rule double that was hit into the seats just below us, but ended up getting flung just shy of where we were sitting.

I was going to tell you about how, upon attempting to leave Miller Park, we were diverted into Milwaukee. And how, while traffic was slowly crawling towards a work zone, we heard a roar, looked out the window to our right, and saw four of the Blue Angels whipping by... seriously. I was also going to tell you about how we got to watch some of the air show while inching towards I-43 south, quite a bit in fact.

I had been hoping to give you a quick review of Young's Old Nick, just to let you know how good it is. And to mention that you definitely won't want to drink too many in one sitting... while good, it's nice and heavy. One or two is plenty good.

I had planned on posting about how incredibly busy I was yesterday, not getting home until a shade before 11. About the adventures of moving a fifty-way too many inch TV.

I also wanted to point out that in the comments to this post of mine, about the Turbo Tap, the inventor's brother stopped by, and helped to ease some of my concerns... he even said that it will pour a perfect Guinness. Nothing said about me getting a free couple of beers to sample... heheh.... I had wanted to point out that that is precisely why I didn't rip on them, because I hadn't sampled the product. To thank Andy for stopping by, and to express my regret at being a cheap bastard, and not having the deluxe Haloscan commenting, so that I could e-mail him back.

But I haven't the time. You people will just have to wait.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:31 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 18, 2005

Tewo More

Cancerousd birthdayws abound! Today isd Phin'x 30th birthday, and tomorro2w ias saarahk'd nexzt.

Happy Birthday, you tqwo!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:20 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Hypothetical Medical Quesdtion

Um... yet another "hypothetical" q2uewstion:

eSay that you 3were sdharpening a knife, and wehile honing the blade, you managed to make a nice incisdion through a finger... let'sd juwt sday your ring finger on your left hand. The bleeding hax sdtopped, but the finger juet saeemd to flop around a bit too much. You decide that it'ds probably a xsdmart thing to do sxdomething more... what type bandage ewould you usae? WSponge Bob, or Po32wer Rangerx? And do you week further axsisdtance?

Hypothetically, an immediate anw3der 2ould be appreciated.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:36 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 17, 2005


Beer, brats, baseball... Nationals vs. Brewers. There go I. I'll see ya when I get back.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:19 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Hey... it's Sissy's birthday! Stop by and bug her. May as well wish her Happy Birthday while you're there, too!

Hope ya have a very Happy Birthday, Sissy!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:27 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 16, 2005

B-Day Wishes

It's Ktreva's (the lovely wife of Contagion) birthday today. Usually a total ass, he's gone and written something very nice. Go on over, check it out, and wish her a Happy Birthday!

BTW... another birthday on the way tomorrow!

Another... belated: Yesterday was Laughing Wolf's birthday, at least according to Tammi, who gains info from little birds. Thanks for the heads up, Tammi!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:02 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


We're all familiar with the old saying: Build a better beer tap, and the drunks will beat a path to your door.

Well, a better tap has been built by one M. Younkle.

The TurboTap, in use at Wrigley Field and two other sports stadiums, pours beer faster, better and more efficiently than traditional taps, says Younkle, whose company, Laminar Technologies Inc., is making a push to expand its markets...

The TurboTap addresses two issues: slow pour time and beer sales running down the drain as excess foam. Under the proper conditions, TurboTap can fill a glass in 2 seconds and a pitcher in 8. And it can add six extra servings and more profit per keg by controlling the foam...

Almost sounds like a good thing. But I'm not so sure.

I'd like to taste this beer. And yes, Virginia, I know it's not for just one type or brand of beer. But part of enjoying a beer comes from the foam. Sure, you don't want a huge excess, but the head (foam) adds to the flavor. The sense of taste is assisted by the sense of smell, and this foam stuff transfers the smell to you... effervescence.

Granted, I'm probably carrying on for no reason... most of the beers that will be served with these units are not my beer of choice, though I will help to control beer population of almost any type.

Damn, now I've got a craving for a pulled pint of bitter.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:51 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Blackfive: Someone You Should Know

So ya wanna know what Matty O'Blackfive is like? I've often been asked (once) what it was like to meet Blackfive, and I usually refer people to this post. I'll admit, finally, that he's not quite like that... he's not really that quiet. Oh, you've still got to prod him to get him to speak, but he ain't that shy.

For those that would like to see what he looks like, he's posted a picture of himself. He says it's "the doughboy," but if you look closely, you'll notice it's a terrible job of photo shopping. All he did was remove the tactical gear, and insert a baker's hat. Nice try.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:02 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 15, 2005

Must Sees

Sorry these aren't more detailed, but I'm runnin' short on time.

Lady Christina's got the Latest Take Two up. The stories submitted so far, are kickass. Make sure you check them out!

Blog-niece VW has the latest installment of The Carnival Of Recipes up and running. Check these out, as well.

Fine job, both of you!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 01:06 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Helpin Out

Harvey has made mention of a family member in need. If you've no clue about what I'm referring to, you didn't click the link. Explanation is there.

I believe strongly in helping family in times of need. This is my effort to help.

Check it

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I tell you tonight1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkeyand in closing 1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey. Before you all leave 1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey. Goodnight.

For a copy of tonight's sermon, please send $100 dollars to:1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey 1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps turkey1500 sheeps 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Goodnight, again.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:48 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Just woke up again, and surveyed the destruction.

Not bad, not bad at all. After quick examination of my "spiritually influenced" posts, I can't quite say they were good, either. I remember laughing my ass off as I typed them... but it appears that I left the true humor out.

Heh... screw it. I had fun, and that's all that counts. You guys got to see just how deep my soul really is.... Still waters run deep, they say. The surface can appear to be glass, and reflect as a mirror.

In my case, once you don your scuba gear and drop in, you discover that it actually is a mirror, and I am but a reflection of all of you. Scary, huh?

I think I may still be a bit inebriated. Just wait until the Blogcrawl on the 30th... you may have an unsolicited overdose of my... whatever it is.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:20 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


I love when you tie a good one on, but it can hurt for awhile the next morn. The best thing is waking up still drunk. You know you've gone and done it proper.

I think you need to do this every now and again. Stirs the creative juices... and a couple of other things.

Thank gott I'm not workin' today.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:16 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

A New Name

Chicken parmigiana sandwich + mozzarella sticks + Italian beef sandwich + pizza + a case of beer = Stay the hell away from T1G.

Actually, come a little closer... I've got something to share with you. A new moniker...

Call me Gaseous Clay.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:04 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 14, 2005

Bad position...

Ain't it awkward being stuck in the middle of a lover's quarrel? I usually make a few jokes, and that seems to knock things down, but sometimes...

I just hate being put in that position... 'specially when drunk. I find myself hilarious, and they usually both want to beat the tar out of me. I think of myself as a calming force. Heheheh.....

At least I can get them to agree that I must be silenced.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:20 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Believe It Or Not, A Question

Purely hypothetical question:

Suppose you read a blog, and you see that this guy is always asking hypothetical questions. You can tell that he does this just because he's having a hard time coming up with crap to post (sometimes literally). Do you humor him, and answer, or tell him to bugger off, which may also humor him, and inspire way too many hypothetical questions?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:21 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Just Cuz

Bloodspite mentioned it first. (That I noticed.) Next, Harvey. So I know that this is making the rounds. Informative video, this is.

Why post it now? Two reasons:
1. For the millions of people (see sitemeter) that insist on reading my blog, and my blog alone.
2. The most obvious... earworm.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:01 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 13, 2005

Juvenile Joe

I left a comment over at Éric's regarding his meeting with Bou. I said that when/if I ever get to meet her, she probably will keep the boys away. Her comments to this post, and this one, come immediately to mind. And I'm proud. So here's a quick story, just for her.

I just got back to my work area after using the resting room, and one of my co-workers walks up, looking at me with the "I'm doing so good at golf, now, that I just have to tell you great my game is getting to be" look. As he's walking up, I puffed out my chest, hiked up my pants, and before he could say anything, I told him, "I just made poop come out of my butt." Heheh.... he shook his head and said something about never knowing where the hell I come from. I think he stared at me for a full twenty seconds before he got that out.

But I didn't have to listen to a golf story!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:07 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

How's This Work?

Another question, brought up after reading this:

The poll shows 32% of all adults say they believe that "ghosts/spirits of dead people can come back," while 48% do not, and 19% are unsure.

Even more Americans believe that houses can be haunted, with 37% holding that position, 46% saying no, and 16% not sure.

Uh... more people believe in hauntings than in ghosts. What's haunting these houses, if not ghosts? And don't try "spirits," either. That's still under the "ghost deal."

Which reminds me, Eric...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:42 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Cool? Or no?

Read this story about a man making money off of magnets inspired by a strange crime. Some are finding it humorous, while others are appalled. Myself, right about the time that I find it appalling, I start laughing.

What say you?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:46 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 12, 2005


Just out of curiosity...

Have you bought any DVDs lately?

How many of those DVDs have been purchased for your children?

Do you, in fact, only purchase DVDs for your little ones?

There was a point to this, but I can't remember what it was. Answer me, if you will, and perhaps I'll remember. The only thing I remember at this point, is Dreamworks. Something about doing not so good.

A bar discussion.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:48 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


You may have noticed the addition of a Tube sign on my sidebar. This is courtesy of my friend Laughing Wolf. If you'd like the same, go check out this post.

Image hosted by ImageShack.

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Crying Sky

This morning, as I look out my window, I see a sight that has me puzzled. There is water on the ground. It seems faintly familiar... I think it's happened before.

As I watch, I see droplets falling from the sky. So that's where it's coming from! Stevie Ray had a song that mentioned it once... I realize the sky is truly crying.

Perhaps it's mourning about the "drought" thing that everyone's talking about. Seeing the crops withering is a sad sight indeed. But if I have to mow my yard after this, it's definitely going to have something to cry about!

Update: I feel so stupid. I was informed that the sky is not crying, but indeed releasing P R E C I P I T A T I O N. Also referred to as rain. I remember hearing about this stuff once, and was beginning to think it was extinct. In parts of the world, and even in the Pacific Northwest region of this here country, there are forests of these rains.

Farmers used to say that they were hoping for rain to save the crops, but when I talked to some today, they no longer want the rain. Their crops are beyond help. Now, they want hail. How fickle.


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An Eternal Mystery

Womens... I love 'em. Beautiful, mysterious, and sometimes plain old terrifying. I know that I'll never have them figured out, but I love 'em nonetheless. They are pleasing to the eyes. Lovely works of art. And at times, funny as hell to watch.

I stopped into the gas station on my way to work. If one of the women that work there is behind the counter, a cool reception is a guarantee. Don't know why, it's just a fact. Two of them are there. While I'm at the counter getting rung up, I hear behind me "Hey Joe! How are you?!" I turn around, and it's one of the girls that bus tables at the bar. Good looking girl, large... uh.... (underage, underage, underage!!!). I talk with her for just a second, and when I turn around, I could feel the chill in the air.

I don't know what that was all about, but if I hadn't been chuckling at the pissed off looks, I may have been puzzled. Heheh... just found it amusing.

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This weekend was loaded. Informative, fun, busy. Lots of running back and forth.

Saturday, of course was the reunion. Me being the social giant, and ever talkative, I tried to maintain a quiet facade. I did quite well, thank you. I don't usually talk with more than five to seven people, but I really do have a good time. This year, I decided that I would see if there were perhaps any bloggers in the bunch. So I wore the old Blackfive T-shirt, hoping to bait them. No bites. Damn.

Being a very German family, you would think that you could count on beer, brats, sauerkraut, and German potato salad, wouldn't you? Nope. Not. A. Single. Bowl. Or. Crock. Of. Potato. Salad. Anywhere. None. I was devastated... I'd been craving the stuff all week, and I was denied. I started mumbling.

Mumbling to myself seemed to draw people closer. Conversations began, and I learned a few interesting things about my family. Very interesting. I thought I had some very important clues, but in the end, I'm still just as confused as ever.

Last year was an important anniversary, reunion-wise. Huge crowd... people from all over. And I noticed as they were all visiting and eating, one very obvious thing: there were quite a few folks with mental handicaps. I truly felt at home.

This year, I discovered that there is indeed an explanation for this... and you may have guessed. One limb on the family tree doesn't really branch out much. At least not until the last few generations. And luckily, it's not my branch. Well, I guess it's lucky. Now I don't have any type of explanation for why I am as I am.

Sunday, we celebrated my birthday. Just a cookout at my sister's place. That's all I ever really want. The nephews and niece get to play and run through the sprinkler, and there's no hurry to leave a restaurant.

I've said it before, and I'm sure to say it again, but damn the kids in our family are cute! I was playing with The Perfect One's little boy, who's 15 months, and thinks he's hot stuff (just like his dad), and the little guy had me rolling! Felt good to laugh about kids goofing around. My sister's boys and cousin's kid's (I call them nephews and niece... they may as well be) were playing outside in the sprinkler. Just fun to watch.

Another good thing... I got my frickin' potato salad. And it was abso-frickin-lutely delicious. Mom rules!

Anyway, a few people announced my birthday Saturday. I love to celebrate other people's birthdays, but don't usually make much deal of mine. Hell, usually I'm gone on a trip! But it was very cool to come home and see all the birthday wishes left in the comments of this post. I almost felt bad that I didn't announce it myself, and let you guys tear the place up! It was very cool, and totally unexpected. So, here's what I do in return: To all of you who commented and linked my birthday, I gift you with gratuitous linkage in reciprocation. I hope I haven't missed anyone, and if I did, oh well. Heheheheh.......

Thanks again!

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July 11, 2005

Carnival of Recipes, Look Out

I'm looking forward to trying out a few new ideas. I was gifted with "Cooking With Beer", and some of the recipes look damn good. It's just a shame that the beer has to perish in such a way.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:34 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

T1G: Braggart

I don't have a "love me" wall. Not that I've got anything against them, but between the fact that I don't really have the room for it, and I'm not that gung-ho about hyping myself, there's no hurry to add one to my blogroom. I've got a photo from boot camp (3rd Bn, I Co.), MCT (Marine Combat Training) Hotel Co., and one from ITB (Infantry Training Battalion), Delta Co. That's it.

I've got the usual certificates and letters that many a serviceman has. Meritorious masts, letters of appreciation, promotions, certificates from schools....They just have been sitting at my mother's house, in safe keeping. She gave them to me today. I've been reading them.

It's funny, but some of the things I'm most proud of, while in the Marines, are not in this stack. One is. But my pro/con marks aren't there. Being put in for a Navy Achievement Medal (now known as Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal) is missing. I never did get awarded that... some bullshit excuse. But I'm proud of the mention. They may not be on the stack of paper that rests here, but they are in my heart. And, of course, somewhere, they're in my Service Record Book.

I look at the one. The one certificate that I'm very proud of. And it's not so much what I did to get it, it's what was said and done after I graduated from that class. Still makes me stick out my chest with pride. It wasn't that I graduated at the top of the class. I strive to make that commonplace. As a matter of fact, technically I wasn't honor man graduating from Advanced Mortar Gunnery Course. A 1st LT was. Not many percentage points apart, but he was top man. Until he asked them to ignore his place, and award it to enlisted men.

See, it's traditional for the top three Marines that graduate from a course to receive promotions. I think it may be in any branch. One of the top four was from this lewie's battalion. With him stepping out, it enabled this Marine to be eligible for a promotion to Corporal. This guy wasn't even in his company... I thought it extremely cool. His stepping out also made me number one man.

I got back to my unit after grajimakashun, and the XO, who was also my platoon commander was stoked about my "Honor Graduate" status. CO was just as happy, and told me to take the rest of the day off... an hour. I wasn't upset too badly, as I thought for sure a promotion was on the way. It wasn't.

A week later, I run into the lewie, and he tells me of how both the other Marines in the top three got their bloodstripes. Then he asked me why I didn't have a new stripe. I told him that I wasn't sure why I didn't have it, but I did get the rest of the day off. I was just proud of how I finished.

I won't say he ripped on my CO... he didn't. I found out then that my XO had come up with him, and they were pretty good friends. But he started in saying that I really deserved the promotion and going on telling me about how impressed he had been with my attitude and knowledge as we went through the course. I can't say that I believed everything he said, but my cover (hat) no longer fit properly by the time he was through. He wished me well, and was on his way.

I never did find out why I didn't get the promotion. My XO talked to me once, and let me know how happy he was with my schooling, and my status in the class. He had gotten a low down from his fellow officer while I was in school, and was very happy that I was representing our battalion. After hearing that, the promotion would have been nice, but I think I got more personally from these two officers. Who knows? It may have been bull to assuage me, and if so, it worked. But I don't think so.

Hmmmm.... I don't even really know what the purpose of this post was... hope you didn't stop doing anything important to read it. :)

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:17 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 10, 2005

My Nephew?

Possibly NSFW depending on how AR your company is...

So far as I know, there aren't any T1G'lets running around, so when I found this little dude, I started wondering if perhaps the little one is my nephew. I mean, there is a little bit of a resemblance.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:03 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 09, 2005

Take Two, Part IV

Once again, the lovely, Fiesty one, Christina, has the latest Take Two up and running. Be sure to check them out.

I've only gotten to read El Capitan's take, which can be found right here. Someone mentioned Kipling in his comments... my very thought as I was reading. Very cool story!

I will post links to the others this evening or tomorrow morning, after I get a chance to read them!


The rest: Tanya delivers her take, while Alexandrine relays her "Dream".

I enjoyed both of these stories... make sure you check them out!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:48 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


With any luck, yesterday's intro to the weekend was just a feint, and no uppercut will follow. Hell, even getting the two tickets wasn't that bad... the cop and I were joking. It was one of those roadside safety checks. About the funniest part was my unctuous retrieval of my insurance card... that wasn't there. I already knew that I was probably going to get a ticket for failure to have a driver's license on me. (I never carry a wallet.) But I was kinda smug after he asked for the card. "Ha ha, Mr. Serve and Protect," I'm thinking to myself, "I may even get away with just a warning once you see my insurance card, which is. right. here..... ah, crap."

As I said though, it wasn't there. Thank gott I had an old card in the glove compartment. It served as my form of ID. No huge deal other than inconvenience. Court date is middle of the week, 9 am. I start work at 8. Ah well, that will learn me.

Anyway, today I get to drive up to Pittsville, WI, for a family reunion. I'm chauffeuring my grandma and ma up. Should be a good time... just not looking forward to the 3 hour drive each way. Not that it's really that long. But it is quite a long stretch to go without my tunes!

Reunions can be boring at times, but it's very cool to watch some of these people that you've never met, and see that there are many who share both physical and character traits, and personalities, with the family members that you do know. When I met my grandfather's family for the first time, a few years back, it was funny, because there were whole families that almost mirrored those we knew!

So that's the plan for the day. May post later, once I get back. You all have a good day, and a great weekend! Peace out...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:33 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 08, 2005

It's The Weekend...

Let's celebrate! I am now the proud owner of two sheets of yellow paper, each with an officer's autograph, and a special court date! Yeah!!!!!!!!!!!! Grab a beer or twelve, and do'er up right! This one's to you, Mr. County Mountie. Cheers!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:55 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Flying anywhere? This is the flight crew that you want on your trip.

HT to cuz C.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:29 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 07, 2005

The Voice

It's always been there. Demon, friend or conscience? I'm never truly sure. Quietly making suggestions... sometimes wise, other times inane, every now and again totally idiotic.

Almost four years ago, it became a scream. In time, it's faded, ignored and pushed aside by me.

Today it's become a bitter bark.

Posting is going to continue, but it may be lame. I've got some thinking to do.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:31 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Just Taking Up Time...

So this evening was spent in the company of friends. Many that you know. Harvey and his incredibly lovely wife, TNT, the ever elusive Matty O'Blackfive, three beautiful women, (Anathematized, Tammi, and Teresa), blog pop Grau, Little Joe, and some other guy who said he knew me... uh.... that's right, Contagion.

It was a damn good time, and believe it or not, I acutally spoke. Once. Getting together with these folks really does feel like gettin' together with family, only you don't have to try to keep a straight face when Grandma starts dropping ass. In this case, that would be Harvey, and he's just talking. :)

In case you didn't know, Contagion has adopted an Army unit in the name of the Bad Example Family. Stop by and help out, if you can. Now. Heheh.... No seriously.

One other thing. Anathematized said something about whenenver she posted about her breasts, no one commented. Somehow, it came around that if I should post about my breasts, I would get more comments. I disagree. What say you?

Anyway, it was a great evening, and I'm looking forward to the next get together. Good seeing you all, and for those of you who've yet to meet a fellow blogger, do it. More than likely, you'll be glad as hell that you did.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:14 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


I told everyone that I was going to run home and blog about my breasts... well, this is as good as it gets. I'll show the bastards to ya!

Nope, drinkin haven't been I.

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July 06, 2005

Tell Us More...

Just sittin' here grinning, thinkin'....

I read this post over at my friend Eric's, and now I'm dying to hear the rest of this story.

I've had some strange experiences while living in this place, that had cleared up any doubts I may have had about "others." The milk incident is just one. One of the strangest, but there are more. When I have more time, I'll tell about them. I got away from what I was thinking about.

Anyway, after reading this post, and a few of the comments, I just started picturing Eric, sitting out in the blogosphere woods, propped up on an old stump. Surrounding him are all the critters of the blogosphere... just waiting for him to relate a story. Posts like this are going to keep us critters hangin' around. Always wanting more. He is a master story teller. And now, we know he is a master baiter.

And I mean that as a high compliment, bro.

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What A Wakeup

I hate when things like this happen to me.

...the 54-year-old man had been the victim of a bizarre car theft which saw him driven around, while passed out drunk in the trunk of his Ford, by a car thief who was himself inebriated and high on marijuana...

Sucks to wake up like that. Not that I would know.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:03 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Another Question

A friend comes over. He's not one to check himself out in a mirror more than to comb his hair.

You notice that he's either starting to grow an evil twin out of the side of his head, or he's got one hell of a nasty zit going. Huge whitehead. You know he's about to go out running errands.

Do you tell him?

Why ask? Uh... no special reason. Other than embarassment.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:49 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 05, 2005

Who Needs Drugs?

So damned tired today. At work, everything seemed so surreal. Day took forever to end, yet, I don't remember much of what went on, other than fighting to stay awake.

That, and the cartoons racing through my head. It was the visual equivalent of a 33rpm LP being played at 78 speed. There was music going full blast, too. Ministry and Slayer.

At one point, I swear Daffy Duck was running around my machine. I was tempted to ask him if he was really there, but if he was, that would have meant that Porky was, too. And I don't really care for him. The bastard just sat there and stuttered while I got the shit pinched out of my finger. Thank gott the cylinders are pneumatic, and not hydraulic... I'd be minus a 1 q a z.

Think I'm going to hit the hay. Concert review tomorrow. Maybe.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:41 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Ethical Question

A purely hypothetical situation.

Suppose you own something and decide to sell. Long ago, you told someone that they have the first shot at it should you ever get rid of it. They offer you a thousand dollars, and you accept. Along comes someone else, and they offer two thousand dollars. What would you do? And does your answer change should the values be one million and two million dollars?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:03 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 04, 2005

Tire Iron Day

Not only is today Indepence Day, but in Velociworld, it's also Tire Iron Day.From pervs practically exposing themselves to his daughter, to spammers, and county commisioners, all are going to feel his wrath and tire iron if he gets the chance. Smack 'em a few times for me, V-Man. Especially the creep in the store.

Tire iron... tool, culling device, and educational mechanism. Ranks right up there with baseball bats.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:45 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Some Kind Of Meme

Once again, I have been too damn slow to dodge yet another bullet. This one fired at me from Bloodspite. I thought that he liked me, but I must have pissed him off or something, because he took great delight in tagging me. Anyway, without further ado, here is "The Meme With No Name." (Crap, I just realized I ruined that.)

What I was doing ten years ago:
I had been out of the Corps for a year, and was back to working for the now defunct Beloit Corporation. Building paper making machinery, and travelling to paper mills nationwide for repairs and new installs. I was also eating and drinking, but I hadn't done anything with Mary.

...5 years ago:
Beloit went bankrupt and closed... got new job a current employer. Personally, this was a rough time. Times were incredibly tight, but I was making do. Moved later in the year when I got tired of hearing "odd couplings" through paper thin walls. Something about hearing two dudes going at it makes me feel nauseous.

...1 year ago:
This time last year? I spent 4 weeks in LeRoy Illinois setting up Nokia GSM cell sites for AT&T. Oops... my bad. That was what Bloodspite was doing. I was about to take my vacation to Colorado and Utah. On the bike. What a great trip....

Rode up to my brother's place, and visited with him for quite awhile while watching my nephew playing/fidgeting/whining/playing/throwing tantrums/playing/grinning like an idiot. Part of the inspiration for this post.

Rode around enough to get a touch of sunburn, then went to Tammi's for dinner. Nice visit around watching movies.

5 snacks I enjoy:
1. Beer
2. Dark Chocolate
3. Beer and dark chocolate
4. Beer
5. Beer

5 songs I know all the words to:
I don't think this is fair... I'm a music guy, not a lyric guy.
1. Happy Birthday
2. Happy Birthday (Industrial Mix)
3. Happy Birthday (featuring T1G mix)
4. Happy Birthday (Country Mix, featuring Snoop Dogg)
5. Happy Birthday (mental strain mix)

5 Things I would do with $100 million:
1. Point and laugh at all of you.
2. Buy up a large tract of land, and build a castle.
3. Rebuild the castle after it sank into the swamp.
4. Rebuild the castle after it burned down, fell over, then sank into the swamp.
5. Probably throw a small party to celebrate the new castle. You would all be invited. But only if I won. And kept my word.

5 locations I would like to runaway to:
1. Montana
2. The Yorkshire Moors
3. Cumbria
4. Mountains... anywhere
5. Scotland

5 bad habits I have:

1. Thinking
2. Worrying about the small things
3. Swearin' too f#%*in' much
4. Putting myself down, although it can be funny.
5. Procrastinating

5 things I like doing:

1. Listening to music
2. Reading
3. Playing my guitar
4. Getting on someone's last nerve.
5. Being outside... hunting, hiking, whatever.

5 things I would never wear:
1. A beer helmet.
2. Underwear on my head
3. Rubber pants on my head.
4. A thong.
5. A Packers jersey.

Okay, okay, so there' s two I haven't worn. But I guarantee that I won't wear them... unless they're on my head.

5 TV shows I like:
Don't watch much TV, but these are the choices if I do.
1: Loony Tunes cartoons
2. History Channel
3. Discovery Channel
4. Anything to do with horror, or haunting
5. Whatever show may currently feature Jennifer Anniston.

5 Biggest joys of the moment:
1. Jamming on the newest Ministry album.
2. Enjoying the dry air, courtesy of two overworked window airconditioners, and one nearly dead fan.
3. Content in knowing that I have nothing that has to be done today... right now... or else.
4. Just got back from visiting with my cousins.
5. Uh...

5 Favorite toys:
If you insist...
1. Etch-a-sketch
2. Keys
3. Legos

4. My pull along Kitty and Doggy. I make them fight, and the dog always smashes the bejeesus out of the cat.
5. My Big Wheel

And for real...
1. My Harley
2. My SRV model Fender Strat.
3. My computer
4. My Custom Shop Ultra Strat
5. My Gibson Les Paul Studio

5 Next victims:
Targets will be emailed, and displayed as hits are confirmed.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:45 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Judging Tammi

Tammi had a little "chat" with her neighbor's sister the other day. She was stunned after the woman went off on her, and called her "white trash." She posted about judging people by their home or appearance, and I left a comment that made it clear that I would still judge by home and appearance. I wanted to expand on that a little. (BTW, she wasn't whining about being called names. She just thought that people shouldn't be so quick to judge.)

I am simply going to keep doing what I, and the whole world, do. It's human nature. First impressions are everything. The thing that matters, is that while I may form an immediate opinion of someone, I keep my frickin' mouth shut, and allow them the chance to prove me wrong. Slight chance, but I could be wrong. I've been wrong... I think it was only once, but I did learn my lesson. :D

My take on Tammi's encounter was like some others commented: that the woman was trying to get a jab in on her sister. May be wrong, but if I'm not, that's a low blow.

I can't say that I've never called anyone "white trash," or "trailer trash." One of my brothers' good friends lives in a trailer park, and I tease him every chance I get. This guy and his wife are the total opposite of that. As a matter of fact, they are almost too preppy! But this is a financial start for them... live there while saving to build a house. It's a similar situation to others that I know.

I have called plenty of people "idiots," and "morons," and I know I'm right when I do. Just sit listening to them yammer on, just a few barstools away. You quickly learn how to distinguish them.

While judging people may be "wrong," it's going to happen. Just remember to keep your damned pie-hole shut until they've proven your assumptions. Then feel free to hammer on the dumb bastards.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:39 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

A Writing Day

Damn is it pouring down here! Rain is just hammering!

I may get caught up on some writing as long as the power doesn't get knocked out!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:17 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Just Wishing You....

a happy fourth of July. Independence Day. Our birthday as a nation. Remember what was given, what was lost, and the knowledge that it was worth it all to our forefathers. Remember as you celebrate... and celebrate hard!

Check out Ronald Reagan's thoughts of what the Fourth meant to him.

Hat tip to David Drake of Mrs. Satan.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:11 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 03, 2005

Because I do

Have I ever told you all that I've got one of the coolest families out there, and that I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have them?

Well, I do.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:21 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 01, 2005

Have You Ever...

Drank so much that your teeth feel drunker than you are? Guess what... I did today. I can't hardly feel the bastards.

I'm not so sure that I should have let them drive me home.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:54 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Golf is a suck ass game. I do like to spend a little bit of time trying to play it, but I hate it nonetheless. I went out today, and out of many strokes, and many throws instead of strokes, I hit one good shot. One frickin' killer drive that would have Tiger fillin' his drawers if I were on the same course as him. "Why don't you hit it like that all of the time," was the question asked. All I could come up with was some crap about trying to keep my mortal appearance intact.

After today, I've figured a couple of things out about golf, and how it appeals to different types of players.

The Pro: Loves to play golf because it allows him to travel the world over, and make mega ching. Where else can you make so frickin much money playing a game, besides baseball, and football, and hockey, and.... hell, it's a game, and you make money. What's not to like about that? Also, there is an added plus in the dating Swedish models department. These guys are happy because they never have to spend their Sundays watching golf on TV.

The Amateur: Loves to play the game because it brings about a sense of achievement. They always concentrate on being good enough to make it to the pros. Golf is a serious game to them, but it can be fun. These guys are happy that they get the chance to watch golf on TV.

The Beginner: Learning this fine game can bring so much happiness. One great shot will keep them happy and willing to play for the whole year. A bad shot, or twenty, doesn't seem to bring them down, as long as they can get par on at least one hole. These guys also love to spend Sunday watching golf, pretending to know all about bludgeon club selection, wind direction, and the slope of each green. Wankers.

The Hacker: Doesn't really give a rip about how well he plays, as long as he can hit a good shot or two. More concerned with the fun he's having, and the people he's golfing with. Beer is his/her Gatorade, and giving his fellow golfers as much hell as he can is his/her relaxation. Carts are crashed, balls run over, balls thrown at each other, and loud catcalls are the order of the day. Wouldn't watch golf on TV unless you paid him professional golfer's wages.

Read these very carefully, and see if you can determine what type of golfer I may be.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:51 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Uh Oh

Saw this headline on Yahoo: "Officials to survey Texas herd for mad cow"

I had a picture jump into my mind, and thought that this could get very ugly. All the hoof pointing and slinging of cow pies... this could damage friendships.

I have a feeling that they will discover many angry cows, but who will be the maddest?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:15 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Take Two, Wide Open

The lovely Christina's got this week's version of Take Two up. Make sure you check it out. (And if you didn't do it yesterday, wish her a belated Happy Birthday!)

This week's scenario:

Two people are seated at a diner in the early hours of the morning. One passes the other an object under the table. Without touching their coffee, first one leaves, then the other. After the parties part ways, the recipient of the object is struck by a vehicle. Someone else retrieves the object...

A friend and co-worker of mine, Eric, wrote one of the stories. Check it out here.

More later, as I get a chance to read... and hell, I may even get one submitted late!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:30 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


How do a crowded football stadium, a broken couch, a thundering herd of buffalo, an ex girlfriend, and a haunted house tie together?

Yeah, what a weird dream.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:29 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 29, 2005

The Best Laid Plans

Since Friend got fired the other day, it's been a humorous thing to walk up to me, and ask if I want to go for a ride. Some people, it's almost funny. Most, I just tell them that it's messed up. I get to listen to "Why'd you let him go?" or, "What kept you from talkin' him out of it?," many times each day. I let it roll off for the most part.

With one, short, fat, exception. This guy just doesn't know when to shut the hell up. All day, yesterday, he kept coming up and asking if I wanted to take his bike for a ride, asking when my lunch time was, etc. Finally, I told him that if I had my bike there, I would go in a heartbeat. He said his bike wasn't there, but if I rode in tomorrow (today), we should head out during his lunch, at 11:30.

Normally, my first break isn't until 1:30. But, I was going to leave after four hours to go to Chuck's funeral. That would have put me out the door at 12. I asked my foreman if I could come in at 7:30 instead of 8, so that I could leave when first shift went on lunch. "Sure, no problem."

Then I explained why I wanted to leave at that time, and he started laughing his ass off, telling me that if it worked, it would be one of the funniest things he'd seen there in a long while.

My plan? When the fat man came around asking if I wanted to go for a ride, I was going to think for a second, look around, and say that it sounded like a good idea to me. But we would have to wait until after 11:30 so that any bosses going to lunch would be gone.

It was my plan to lead him down to Oregon (about 25 minutes away... lunch is 30 minutes), and then tell him that I forgot to mention that I was done for the day, and he better get his ass back to the shop or he'd get fired, too!

I rode in... he didn't. As a matter of fact, he didn't come near me the whole four hours I was there. Damnit!

However, I got some concerned stares as I hopped on the bike and took off "early."

Heheh.... not what I hoped for, but it will do.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:04 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Funny how some things just make you smile with the way that they feel. A towel fresh from the dryer, a new pair of underwear...

'Course, once your "junk" starts falling out of said bungies, the smile is gone, and irritation sets in, in ways than one. Never again will I buy a brand that reminds me of a religious movement that led to the formation of the Presbyterian Church.

Perhaps this is some cruel trick to get you to invoke the name of God. I know I have, but I wouldn't call it prayer.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:47 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 28, 2005

Deep Thinking

I've been sitting here, watching insects drawn towards a street light, thinkin'.

What is it that pulls the little bastards there? It can't be about the light... or can it? Do they spend all day flying as Icarus, only to return each night to seek easier "suns?"

Moths ain't the only bugs drawn to the flame, but they are the most noticable. They're large and slow. Even pulsating lights seem to draw them. So why is it that lighting bugs don't have a trail of insects swarming behind them?

Just very tired, curious, and confused.

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June 26, 2005

June 26, 1898

"I want to go where the guns are."

"All right, they're on our left, they're on our right, they're in front of us, they're behind us...they can't get away this time."

"We're surrounded...That simplifies our problems."

At Koto-Ri in Korea, when an Army captain asked him for the direction of the line of retreat, this man called his tank commander, gave them the Army position, and ordered: "If they start to pull back from that line, even one foot, I want you to open fire on them." Turning to the captain, he replied, "Does that answer your question? We're here to fight."

These are quotes from a Marine hero. Today is the birthdate of Lewis Burwell "Chesty" Puller, the most decorated Marine in history. A man so hardcore, he tried to get himself reinstated in the Corps to fight in Viet Nam... he was sixty-eight.

Happy Birthday, Chesty, wherever you are.

Drink you bastards... drink.

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Yoikin' Folks

My cousin's father in law bought it today. Dude was a cool guy to talk with, and very knowledgable about many things. He was ornery, and din't like too many people. But damnit, he liked me, and I felt honored.

I'd be pissed at the Big Guy for yoikin' him, but I think it was for the best. Suffering is not a fitting way to go.

Later Chuck. Peace be with you.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:17 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Being a regular customer, and a friend, pays off. Fritz closes down annuallly, for two weeks. Let me tell you... I'm loaded with chow.

Also gots me a new shirt from Alaska. They're too cool!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:14 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Broken Chains

Bear with me... drunken rant.

Yesterday, a friend of mine lost his job. A bullshit deal. Oh, I'm not saying he was innocent of wrong. But I don't feel he deserved to lose the job. And the reason he got into trouble in the first place bugs me. Kinda sets me off.

Friend and I went for a bike ride on my lunch. A certain white shirt was in the parking lot when we left. No sneaking, we left. Nice ride, he got to ride my brother's bike, and I got to ride a brand new Fat Boy. White shirt runs to plant manager the following morning.

Well, this particular shirt has a problem with me. I don't know what started it, but I do know that I've helped to sustain it. After he started running to the plant manager about petty things, instead of coming straight to me, I've started jacking with him. Maybe not a smart move, but I don't like being tattled on... for things that aren't even wrong, no less. My boss has chewed his ass about this, but it stops him not at all.

Morning comes and I'm asked about going on the ride. Not gonna lie, "Yes, I did. I was on lunch." Okay, that makes everything cool for me. Friend is a second shifter... they take lunches when they can. Sometimes early, sometimes late. Friend used his lunch for the ride. Unfortunately, he took another lunch, later. Of course, we are on the security cameras, and they see him leave twice.

My boss is now in an awkward situation. Had he known about it, he could have given a warning, or time off. The plant manager is the one who approached him. Little Miss White Shirt ran straight to him. Now this decision is an upper management thing. The manner in which this pisses me off... ineffable. I'll try to express some of it, if only as a stress relief.

There is a chain of command in the military, and some fragments in civilian life. It's my personal belief that all organizations and companies be run with one. "But they are," you say. Bull. They may have one on paper, but how many times have you seen it strictly followed? Ass kissers and snitches run wild, ignoring their immediate superiors and running to upper management. And too many times, THEY ARE REWARDED FOR IT!

A chain of command is not just an effective management strategy. It's also a show of respect. By talking with a superior, or in this case a peer, you are allowing him to take control of the situation. If he isn't able to contribute, control, help... whatever is asked of him, he is able to go to his superior, and so on. His employee, Marine, whatever... his problem. Allow him the chance to fix the situation.

As a Marine, I never was an NCO, but I did have positions of authority. I was a Vehicle Commander for a stretch, and the Fire Direction Center Chief for about a year and a half. I was a lance corporal, E-3, and most VCs were E4, E5s. FDC Chief is an E5 billet, or so I've been told. Shit, I'm rambling.

Anyway, if I had a problem with someone in my charge, I was responsible for taking care of things. If I knew that I couldn't get it done, I went to my section leader, who took care of things, or went further up to the platoon sgt. It' s not just for problems... requests also work in this way. You went up the chain, and did it proper. Skip a link or two, you may get results, but some of those are not going to be favorable to you. You can get your ass in serious trouble pulling that crap.

If you saw a Marine screwing up, you talked to him first, then went to his immediate and explained. It's his problem now. How far things go depends on what happens with his Marine when he talks to him. What matters is that you showed him respect by allowing him to police his own.

In this case at work, my boss had no chance, no warning. He was put into a bad situation by both Friend, and the ass-licking white shirt. He may have been able to save Friend's job if not for the harvester of dingleberries, but that was not to be.

What really torques me off is that "The Tongue" has gotten this position by being a superb rat. When he was just a lowly worker, he ran to the plant manager, before his boss, to rat out co-workers. His boss, didn't like it, but "The Tongue" is a good worker, so nothing happens. When his boss died from cancer last year, turd muncher and a foreman with over 20 years put in for the job. Muncher got it... and it wasn't because his new found peers wanted him. The owner wanted him!

I know, I know... it's life, adn life ain't fair. True. But fair or not, I'm still pissed. How I wish for a chance to use the frickin' "Way Back Machine" so that I could beat the everlovin' piss out of Blow Boy as a wee little lad. And I mean that as me being the wee lad. Assault and battery doesn't appeal to me, but you want to play grade school games, you should expect grade school reactions... and beatings. Nah, don't worry. I haven't smacked anyone in anger in almost twelve years. Ain't gonna do it... venting. And venting helps, or so I've heard.

Sounds like I'm blaming this all on L'il Tommy Tattletale. Maybe. But I do realize that if Friend hadn't gone riding with me, all would be cool for him. I feel bad because the shirt is always gunning for me, and I feel as if Friend took the round intended for me.

If you've read this much, you're tired of seeing no point to it... so I'll let you know: there really isn't a point to this except for the one on top of my head. I'm tired of trying to proofread this crap too, so I'll stop now. Thanks for letting me go off, and listning... or reading. I just can't figure out how the chain works at my place of employment.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:08 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 24, 2005


Bang bang bang, on the door baby! {Knock a little louder sugar!}
Bang bang bang,on the door baby! {I can't hear you!}
Bang bang bang, on the door baby! {Knock a little louder sugar!}
Bang bang bang, on the door baby! {I can't hear you!}

Because I shouldn't be the only one suffering.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:35 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

And Another Meme

Tammi tagged me with another meme. It's a little late, but I got it done. Finally.

Five Thing Society At Large Enjoys, But That I, For The Most Part, Just Don't Get..."

1. Cell phones- Though I can sometimes understand why others want them, they're not for me. I hate talking on the phone (though a couple of you may think otherwise. It's just 'cause I like you... feel honored, or cursed). I also hate listening to some of the incredibly intelligent conversations that you hear from cell phone holders. And it's not eavesdropping when they are practically yelling into the phone, "Hey! What's up? Where you at? What you doing? Not much here... just eating a burrito. Oh, hang on... another call.... Hello? Hey! Nothin'. Just eatin' a burrito. And talkin' to so and so. Yep, on the other line. 'Kay. Hey, so and so, other dumb ass said to say Hi! Not much. Eating a burrito I guess." I'm drifting a bit.

If I hate talking on the phone, why would I want to make a constant companion out of something I hate? My ventures out should be time away from phone calls.

2. "The Lean"- You know, the "in" thing among male drivers. Lean way over on the console so your head is dead center of the car, while draping your left arm over the twelve o'clock postition. This way, when you hit a bump, your car will lurch all over the road in a "cool" manner. Couple "the Lean" with talking on a cell phone, and you've arrived! The Ultimate in "Cool!"

These cool people are the inspiration behind a bill that I'm trying to draft, that makes it legal to drag them from their vehicles and kick them in the head, whenever they swerve onto the shoulder, and give those behind them a "gravel bath." No sponsors, yet, but I'm trying.

3. Disposable Marriages- "Wow... we've been married for a whole year, and we need to call it quits. Too many irreconcilable differences." These are the people who will say next year, "Oh, we're great friends, we just couldn't be married!" while hanging out with their exes. Marriage can take work, while divorce is too easy. While I'm not against divorce, I don't believe it should be an early, or easy, consideration. Of course, this comes from a never married single guy. Take it for what it's worth.

4. Reality Shows- Especially celebrity shows. "Looky! This is our life... cool ain't it?!" They just keep getting worse, too. By next year, I'm looking for "A Deeper Look: Celebrity Colonoscopy." We all know who they are. We don't need to know every detail of their lives, or every word that they say. Unless of course, someone would happen to see that Jennifer Anniston (or maybe Selma Hayek) told People magazine, in answer to a question about love interests, "Well, there's this guy, That 1 Guy, whose blog I've been reading. He's very talented, and he's a stud, too! I saw some pictures, and just fell in love!" You see that, PLEASE call, write, e-mail... whatever!

5. Death as a scare tactic- "If you don't stop smoking, you'll die! If you don't stop drinking, you'll die!" Raise your hands and scream with me: "We're all gonna die!" Everyone dies. Dead. Even Jesus got wacked. 'Course, he was resurrected, but you've got to be dead in order for that to happen. If you read the Bible, only Elijah never died, and that was because he was yoiked from this earth. Yeah, I know, I've griped about it before, but everytime I see that billboard, it sets me off.

Stop because you want to improve your health, or the quality of your life. You stop doing something simply because the fear of death persuades you, and Death's bony hand will reach out and bitchslap you, regardlessly.

* Guy S from Snugg Harbor has weighed in. (In case you don't follow trackbacks.)

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:12 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 23, 2005


Forty in a fifty five zone. Incident one at work. Incident two at work. Forty in a fifty five zone. More such excitement. 'Tis a fine example of Tardsday, indeed. Grrrr.

However, factor in about nine hours of sleep between the last three days, and the unusually high levels of tardaciousness, and the fact that all tards involved are still breathing is a definite positive. For them.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:57 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

A Meal For Any Time of the Day

The incredibly lovely sarahk is hosting the Carnival of Recipes this week. The first time, she shook her fist at me to get me to submit an entry. I think she did another, and I didn't enter. Trying to avoid a whoopin' (although....), I had my sister give me the recipe for some jambalaya that she made for me. Easy to make, and good to eat. My apologies to my Cajun friends, but, "mais oui, mes amis, das some good stuff!" (Thanks, Chrissy, for the phrase!)

New Orleans Style Jambalaya

1/4 c. vegetable oil
3 c. chopped onions
8 links "Emeril's kicked up smoked sausage", cut into 1/4 in. rounds
2 lbs. boneless white and dark meat chicken, cut into 1 in. cubes (or you
can just use chicken breasts....breasts are good)
1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
2 Tbsp Emeril's Original Essence
1 c. chopped green bell peppers
2 Tbsp. garlic
3 c. long grain white rice
5 c. low-sodium chicken stock
1 bay leaf
1 c. chopped green onions

Heat oil in large saucepan over med. heat. Cook sausage 5 min. and remove from pan. Add chicken, cayenne pepper, and 1 Tbsp Essence to pan and cook 5 min. Remove from pan. Add onions, bell peppers, remaining Essence and garlic to pan and cook 8-10 min. until veggies are softened. Add rice and cook, stirring 3-5 min. Return sausage and chicken to pan. Add stock and bay leaf. Increase heat to med-high and bring to a boil. Cover and reduce heat to low. Cook 25 min, remove from heat. Let stand, covered 10 min.
Remove bay leaf, and stir in green onions to serve.

I'm not sure how many this is supposed to serve. Let's just say that it serves a couple of people, a couple of kids, and one really hungry T1G. You do the math! Enjoy!

Correction! Dana from Note-It Posts is hosting the Carnival this week! But she does have breasts! ;) Sorry, Dana!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:23 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 22, 2005

Promoting Thought

Not normally known as being exceptionally deep, I've decided that I really should be able to get you all to think deeply at least once. So I'm going to ask you an incredibly esoteric question. One that is so thought provoking, it will leave you mentally drained. I will provide my answer later... I'm spent just thinking of the question, which is:

If ever you were afforded the opportunity to watch cartoons in the company of a real, live, cartoon character, who would you choose, and why?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:30 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 21, 2005

Note To Self

To myself, and those who would learn from others' idiocies, a tip:

Never stash something down the front of your pants while riding. NEVER! Holy crap, does that hurt!

I was okay until I had to shift... then everything shifted down yonder, and the discomfort began. Sharp edges stabbing into places where they just shouldn't be. I kept trying to lean back to ease the pain, but I'm riding my brother's bike, and he's got ape hangers... I was stuck in a locked and upright position, while fearing that a certain friend may never be upright again.

What the hell was stashed in the hold? Ironically, a floppy disc! I didn't have anywhere on the bike to stash it, and I wasn't about to set my big ol' ass on it, so I figured that'd be safe enough. Once the gouging of the groin started, I realized... not so smart. I started thinking, "What if I wreck while trying to adjust myself? Someone's going to get a kick out of that... 'Yeah, a floppy cut his floppy off!'"

If I ever even think of doing that again, remind me to open a pocket knife, stick it down the front of my pants, and bend over. That should change my mind.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:33 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Harvey's Blogiversery

If you couldn't tell by the title, it's Harvey's 2nd blogiversary. At least that's what he says anyway. Probably just another ploy to get crap!

Well, since I didn't get him anything for Father's day (he is my blog pop, you know), and his blogiversary is near enough that one present covers all... here's to you, Harvey.

Yeah, I know... it's not what you requested, but deal with it. At least you're thought of! :-P

Happy Blogiversary, Harvey! Many more to you!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:10 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


(Think Temptations: My Girl)

booom *snap* do do do *snap* do

booom *snap* do do do *snap* do

booom *snap* do do do *snap* do

booom *snap* do do do *snap* do

I've got sunshine
Beating down on me.
My skin reddens,
You can feel it's heat.

I can't take pain,
I just need more Solarcaine
Sunburn (sunburn, sunburn)
Talkin' 'bout sunburn (sunburn)

UV rays permeate.
Blisters bubble,
Used the sunscreen too late.

Scabs form while I sleep,
As my skin sticks to the sheets.
Sunburn (sunburn, sunburn)
Talkin' 'bout sunburn (sunburn)

Aaaaahhh, Ooowwwww

Ouch, ouch, ouch,
Ouch, ouch, ouch,

Now I'm careful,
SPF 45.
Enjoy the shade much more,
No more boiling alive.

Longsleeves, straw hat.
What makes me cautious like that?
Sunburn (sunburn, sunburn)
Talkin' 'bout sunburn (sunburn)

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:23 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 20, 2005

The Horror

I saw this the other day, and it actually brought tears to my eyes. Let me warn you now, some of you will cry when you see this. A few, like myself, will be physically ill. If you're not affected at all... you're just a sick bastard.

"Life is too short... grab all you can, while you can" is the message to be learned from this tragedy.

Look and learn my friends. Look, and learn.

Thanks to Image Shack.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:35 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 19, 2005

Where's Everyone?

Bad Example Family members, members, and others... get your asses over to Sissy's RIGHT DAMNED NOW!

She's hosting The 25 Word Challenge, and I'm getting tired of the story not progressing.

Please go now, or I swear that I'll keep on posting drivel!

An aside: She's got a list of bloggers she's met, and marks those that drank a shot with her. She doesn't have me as drinking a shot with her. Apparently, taking a slug from the bottle isn't a shot... I think it is. Go give her hell for me!

Farther to the side: Don't bother... she fixed it. Heh!


Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:12 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Father's Day Post

Happy Father's Day to all you pappys out there! I hope it's a good one, and that you are able to do whatever it is you like; fishing, cooking out, lovingly disposing of beer in the proper way, burning ants with a magnifying glass, moshing to death metal... anything you like. It's your day man, celebrate! Just remember the fathers across the water.

I'm suffering a severe case of writer's block right now, so there'll be no mushy or sentimental post from me... though I really wanted to do one. I also had started working on something for my blog faddahs, Grau and Harvey, but that's gone to hell also. Damn. I am going to save what I have, and work on it when I'm in a better mood. I originally was going to try to find some pics of boobs, as they both desire that sort of thing, but I realized that they both are boobs... they can just visit each other's sites.

Probably the only post from me today, unless I get inspired while riding. It's my day to make a visit, and think about my father. After that stop, I usually go for a long ride, or drive.

Merry Father's Day!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:04 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 18, 2005

Bou's Poll

Wow, the title just sounds wrong! Where was I? Oh, yes.

If you haven't been there, or for some stupid reason you don't read Bou, head over there now. She's taking a poll from us menfolk. 'Course, you ladies can answer, too.

She's asking about a statement Katie Holmes made, and what we think of it. Don't answer here... you go there now!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 01:01 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Random Crap

Funny how certain things can set off earworms. Yesterday, after reading a certain post, I spent the rest of the day singin' "Monkey Man" by the Stones and laughing to myself.

This morning, I have "Drug Raid at 4 AM" by Lard running through my head after reading this article. The last lines of the song? Not in the lyrics, but after the music ends... "Oops... sorry. Wrong house."

It's not really funny... what if, instead of picking up a vacuum hose, he had grabbed a gun to defend himself? Ventilated over a "mistake." Still, the song persists.

Speaking of mistakes, I love this woman's response to a mistake regarding her pay. Maybe she responded a little harshly, but who likes gettin' money yoiked from them?

Another that made me grin: Mrs.Satan's photo of Dick Turban Durbin.

That's my Saturday thoughts... until I think of more.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:02 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Book Meme

Yet another meme! I was asked by Guy from Snugg Harbor to do a meme about books. I think he just wants to see if we Stillmanites can read! For those that don't know, and that's probably about ninety percent of you, and those that don't care (ninety eight), Guy is from a town about four miles away. There is a little bit of rivalry between the two towns, but it's all in good fun!

Anyway, here's the damn meme:

1.Total number books I own:

I'm not all that sure, but I'd say it's a greater number than 1 and less than 1000. Unless you count my coloring books... then it jumps up dramatically. Actually, it's probably somewhere around 600-700. Lot's of fiction, comedy, and a few biographies.

2. Last book I bought:

I bought two. "The Taking," by Dean Koontz, and a book that's supposed to be about a dinosaur, but I'm having a hard time getting a story line from it. It's "Thesaurus," by Roget.

3. Last book I read:

"Broken Prey," by John Sandford. Sandford and his main character, Lucas Davenport, are definite favorites... I own almost all of the "Prey" series.

4.Five Books Of Notable Influence On Me:

This is a toughie... I'd say that the Bible is one that's had a huge impact on me. Not saying good or bad, but growing up as we did, there was plenty-o-Bible readin' done.

After that it's too tough. Let me list some of the authors who have influenced me.

Edgar Allan Poe- "The Masque of the Red Death," and "The Fall of the House of Usher" were the first stories I ever read by him. They reminded me of some of the weird dreams that I used to have.

Stephen King- It took me until almost the mid- nineties to start reading him, but after reading "It," "The Dark Half," and "The Shining," I've been hooked. I've got most of his books.

Louis L'Amour- Laugh if you will, but I love his stories. If you've read him, you know that he wrote not just to entertain, but to educate as well. Another one of whom I own most of his books.

Douglas Adams- While I love his "Hitchhiker's Trilogy," I would have to say that Dirk Gently and his holistic detecting are my faves. I love the style and wit of Adams.

And then, of course, there were my early reads.

5.Five Poor Bastards "Lucky Winners" © To Tag With This:

Type me if you're interested... I'm not passing this torch, as it seems everyone is doing a version of it lately.

Hopefully, this is proof that I don't need picture books to "read!" :)

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:29 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Take Two, Pt. Two

The newest installment of Take Two from Christina is up. Go over and check the stories out.

This week's scenario:

A person gets on a subway then nods off only to waken just before the appointed stop. When this person exits the station, the surroundings are completely unrecognizable. Individual then realizes he/she had not seen another human since getting on the train.

Again, some excellent stories from her crew! Heh... the Take Two Crew.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:55 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

June 17, 2005

Huh... No Shit?

For those moving to the country in Lebanon, PA, there will be an interesting brochure available for you: Scratch-n-sniff manure.

I can just imagine the rush to learn more.

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How Ironic

I read this, and couldn't help but smirk.

Not that I find the incident funny, but the asses involved...

Ethical treatment, indeed.

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Thinking Of You

In the past week, there have been a couple of posts that I really wanted to comment on, but I couldn't think of how to say it. I'm not the best when it comes to having clever things to say.

Usually, if I leave a comment that isn't meant to be joking around, I'm dead serious, though my comment may sound like I've just tossed something out to show that I've something to contribute. If I say, "you're in my thoughts," I really mean it. But it does sound a little weak.

Blake's pain, and Harvey's employment status do have me concerned... I just can't think of any comments that won't sound trite.

I guess this post is just an extended, "Thinking of you." My silence is not uncaring, and I'm sure they know... I just felt the need to say it.

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June 16, 2005

I Don't Get It

Something I just can't fathom. Sure, I don't care for cats all that much, but even if I did, I can't see wrestling a stupid cat away from a coyote... a wild coyote, not Wiley. Best of all, to do it in hysterics, and without a plan.

I, personally, don't think it's right to be teasing the coyotes this way. You let a snack run around outside, and then, when they attack it, you pull it away. I was always told not to tease animals... they will get even. If you see Kitty being mistaken for an hors' devoure, say "Bye," and let the dining continue. While cats don't grow on trees, they do just magically (or demonically) appear. There's always plenty more.

Then, of course, there's the cost. Over two grand for the feline, and around ten grand for the champion of cats. Yep... worth it to me. You wonder what leaves goes through people's minds.

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June 15, 2005

Yes, I Really Am Human

I was talking with a "biker" the other night, and we got to talking about how far we ride in a day, and our strategies for making the trip as painless as possible. I'm not going into all of that discussion, though it may make for a post to fill time later on. Anyway, when we hit the topic of when to eat, I started grinning... and I think I may have irritated him a bit. I wasn't laughing at him, but at a memory of one of the most embarrassing incidents I've had on the road. 'Course, I didn't tell him that.

A couple of years back, I stopped at a Hardees or a Booger Fling in Iowa City. It had been a long trip, and I was on it's last leg. I ordered, got my chow, and made my way to one of the booths by the window so that I could keep an eye on the bike, and watch the fine scenery. (College town) I was about finished eatin', when in walked a couple of hotties, and they were trying to match the bike outside to the customers. They finally saw me, and though I doubt they were impressed, they smiled and waved.

By the time they got to the counter, I had already finished my grub, so I headed back to the can to wash the ketchup and grease from my hands. I walked in, and it looked like someone had either let a puppy or a three year old loose in there... toilet paper was everywhere! I picked up some of it, then washed my hands and made to leave.

As I'm heading out the door, I notice the hotties looking at me and grinning, so I waved. Big smiles were my reward! I held the door for a couple and noticed that they, too, were smiling. Huh? It wasn't until the door was closing, and I caught my reflection in the glass that I knew why they were all grinning at me. I had a nice streamer of toilet paper stuck to my boot heel! All I could do was laugh! Here for a second, I thought I actually had a bit of sex appeal!!!

I think that may be the only embarrassing incident I've ever had (right), but how about you? How have you embarrassed yourself?

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Why Me?

"Remember when..."
"I swear to God...."
"Remember when..."
"I swear to God...."
"Remember when..."
"I swear to God...."

Why is it that the tards are only out in full force when I'm in a pissy mood? My cheer for the evening was imagining the conversation sounding like this:

"Remember when that one guy got pissed at you, grabbed you by your ankles, and started beating you against the walls and bar? HaHAW!"

"Shyeah, I swear to God that he almost killed me!"

"And remember when he ripped your arm off, and beat the everloving piss out of us? HaHaw!"

"Shyeah... but I swear to God it wasn't funny."

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June 13, 2005

Asking A Favor

Okay, I think most of you have seen the gibberish that is "Have yoe Ever?" I think that was me... but I was having problems.

See, I haven't been practicing my shots, and no food + shots + lotsa beer seems to destroy me. I was fine when I left the bar that night. I got home and read Konstantin's story, and seriously, I forgot to breathe. Very good. Well, I knew I was having problems when it took me forever to type a comment. I was trying to be serious, and let him know what a great job he did. I may have failed.

I next visited a few more favorites, and by then, I could barely read... buzz was growing. I think I left some more idiotic comments, but I only found one. Thank God. I was made aware of that, by an email that said, "inebriated again, eh?.. oh, the humanity!" I was almost embarrassed. Almost.

So here's the favor, next time some drunk guy comes knocking on your blog door, late or early, chase him the hell off. Don't let him make a total ass of himself. The last little bit of pride he has may be what he leaves in your comments.

I'll try my best to keep him from posting.

You know what I think that post was supposed to say? "Have you ever been so jacked up that you can't focus on anything?" It took too many attempts... I he nodded off with his finger on the "c" key. I shortened it for laughter's sake, but there were many, many "c's."

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June 11, 2005

Childhood Meme

Damnit! Meme'd again! At least this is one that I'm probably going to enjoy! And I will attempt to pass this one on. Could be very interesting.

Five Things That I Miss From My Childhood

1. Indestructability. I don't know how many rocks to the head, nails tearing through feet and knees, and falls from roofs and farm equipment that I've suffered. They didn't hurt me too bad. And blood builds character. Now, blood isn't a good thing. Then, blood was a guarantee that you'd have a scar, and scars were in.

1. Indestructability. I don't know how many rocks ... wait. Maybe they did mess me up.

2. Eating contests with my cousin. It's still brought up every time we all get together. We used to see who could eat the most BBQ sandwiches, plates of turkey and gravy... you name it. I think we ate more in an hour, than some villages in Ethopia could eat in a day. Well, maybe not quite that much, but damn close. Our prize? Bragging rights, and a gut fit to explode. We jokingly tried it again last year. I thought I would hurl after two plates. Cousin didn't fair much better. Those days are long gone.

3. After we moved from the farm, we were about a mile from a forest preserve. We could be found running through those woods day and night, any season. Building dams, stalking deer, swimming, pushing people in the creek (pronounced "crick" when I type it) so that we had an excuse to go swimming. After all, you can't let them drown. Imaginations ran wild out there... we were hunters, indians, Marines and soldiers, explorers who could shame Lewis and Clark. I've been meaning to make a trip back there, and run through the areas we used to haunt.

4. Speaking of imagination, while mine is still fairly active, it ain't what it used to be. I miss the days when any object could become a treasure, a weapon, a transport from this world. A piece of field tile could become an anaconda, or black mamba, and tranport us to the jungles. Anything was possible if you thought about it. Now days, I battle with realism. Oh, sure... I usually win, but it does affect what you are capable of. It's one reason I enjoy watching kids at play... you have no clue what exactly is going through their little heads, but it's fun to guess.

5. I miss the days when my worst fears and worries were that I would not get my chores done in time to catch the White Sox games on WMAQ. I used to grab a book, and listen to hours worth of those games. To be so stress free now...

The rules: Remove the #1 item from the following list, bump everyone up one place and add your blog’s name in the #5 spot. You have to link to all the blogs. (Or WHAT???)

The Gun Line
Righty in a Lefty State
Frizzen Sparks
Little Joe's Soapbox
Drunken Wisdom

I've got four that I would like to pass this on to, but I'm going to contact them first.

*Acidman weighs in.

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Have yoe Ever?

You efver beem sp kacled i[ tjat upi cccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccc

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June 09, 2005


The lovely Christina has once again started another project. She calls this "Take Two," and here's the concept: A brief scenario or sketch is presented, then interpreted by each of the writers who, in turn, write a short story based on the sketch that is not to exceed 1,000 words.

This week's fellow participants and their stories:

Dash from The Boiling Point offers "Surviving In The Projects."
Guy S from Snugg Harbor submits "Tadpole."
Joe from Cadillac Tight gives us "Alex's story."
Konstantin from Dystropia presents "Broken Glass."

Some great versions of the starting sketch, with a few twists!

The scenario: A group of kids are playing a pick up game. The ball flies over the fence into the forbidden lands. The smallest child is "elected" to squeeze through a couple of loose boards in the fence. With apprehension, the child goes to retrieve the ball.

Simple, right? Uh, no. For being as reserved with words as I am, I sure as hell put alot on the paper! Took forever to shorten it up, and a suggestion from Christina, but ....
here it goes...

June 10, 2005

Fear. It culls the weak from the strong. Exposes the cowards and the brave. Fear can destroy, and it doesn't just affect the one who fears; it can have an effect on those surrounding them. As I've found recently, my family is an example of the last.

I'm named after an uncle that I've never met. He died in a fiery accident when he was eighteen. I've never heard ill spoken of him as he was a local hero.

Marc seemed to have the world in the palm of his hand at the time of his death. While a great running back, he was known as the fiercest linebacker in the conference, and several large schools had offerred him a full ride. Folks say that he played like a man possessed. Perhaps they were more correct than they could realize.

After my mother's funeral last week, I was going through her belongings when I found a letter stashed inside an old family Bible. My grandmother's. The letter was worn and tear stained, and when I carefully opened it, I read the words of my former uncle.

Dear Mom,

I'm sorry, and I owe you an explanation. John's been telling me that I need to talk to you for a long time now, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Do you remember that guy who got beat to death at the Dover house? Just a few months before John's accident? I'm the one who did it.

We had been playing ball with the Denoto twins, Bodway, Ski, and Brayton. Bout the time for us to go home, Paluski smacked the ball a good one, and over the fence it went. Right by the Dover house. Us kids were scared to death of the place because we thought it was haunted. And when you told us to keep away from there, we knew. We had all seen the lights and the shape that stood by the windows.

Well, the other guys took off. I made John go get it. He fit the easiest through the fence. He didn't want to go, but it was our ball, and we didn't want a whippin, so I finally got him to go. When he couldn't find it right away, I went to help. I started to look around on the backside of the house when John yelled that he found the ball, but he was stuck under the porch. Then he started screaming.

I ran around the corner, and saw a huge guy holding John. I had my bat, and I ran at him and hit him. I think it was in the side. He made a weird squealing hiss, and I really got scared. I started to swing like crazy. Next thing I knew, I was in the house, and he was on the floor. He had finally stopped that hissing noise. He didn't make any noise at all. John and I ran, and hid the bat in the cupola on top of the barn.

John later told me that he thought the guy was trying to help him, but just scared him when he picked him up. And then we found out who he was, and that he was dead. We wanted to tell someone, but we were too scared. John almost did. That's how he had the accident. We started fighting about it and I knocked him out of the haymow. I didn't mean to do it.

John has been bugging me every night to tell you. I can't stand it anymore. He looks deader and sadder each night. Now you know. I'm sorry, Mom. Really sorry.

Please forgive me.


Folding the letter back up, tucking it back in the Bible, I felt sick. It became clear in that instant that Marc had not had an "accident." The town hero, the man I tried to emulate, overwhelmed by guilt, had offed himself.

I thought of the stories that the old timers told. The man he had beaten to death was a nephew of the Dovers, a mute, and may have been a little slow. Some of the townspeople looked after him, and tried to keep him from the public eye. Fear of those that are different often leads to hatred, and they had hoped to protect him.

I thought of Marc's onus of fear and guilt. It had continued to grow. John's accident? He broke his neck when he was knocked out of the barn by Marc. 10 years old, he was. Imagine Marc's mind; 13 years old and dealing with two murders, one of them your little brother.

My grandmother, and later my mother, had known. Why had they kept silent? They were afraid. But fear takes it's toll. My grandmother died only five years after Marc passed. I was only two at the time, my grandma unknown. She was 44, but she looked well into her sixties. It must have been hard to keep that secret.

In some ways, I hold Marc responsible for her death, too, but she's the one who chose to carry the load in his stead. I can understand her silence. Our family didn't have much, but we were well known and respected in our community. She was afraid to lose everything.

As for me, I've been indecisive. I feel as if I should get this out in the open, but I, too, have a reputation at stake. I am now the mayor of this town. Another one of the family giving in to fear.

Since my discovery, John visits me in the darkness of night, and all those other moments when I am alone with my thoughts. He says nothing, but in his eyes I see his silent reproach.

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Ran to Fritz's last night for a burger and beer. Ended up having a few.

The local Shriners were having a meeting there. I visited with a couple, but most of the time, I listened to them talking about the town as it used to be. Not that they're all old... but those are the guys to whom I like to listen or talk. History.

I've got to make sure I'm there when they hold their next meeting.

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June 08, 2005

Kinda Busy...

If you don't hear from me, or see that I visited much in the next couple of days, please accept my apology in advance. I've been working on something that I'm trying to turn in by Friday, and it's not coming along nearly as fast I thought it would.

I was worried about writer's block. Hah! Silly me. I should have been worried about editor's block. I can't find many ways to edit, without ruining the story! May be a rewrite in the works.

Anyway, feel free to keep stopping by... I may have a bit of brilliance posted! Or not. :)

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Play Time

Well, this is dandy. My damn shower is broke... meaning I have to take baths until it's fixed. I hate baths.

The damn pipe that comes out from the interior plumbing to the shower head has snapped off. Plastic... cheap, and brittle with age. So much for "fixing" the small leak that was originally there.

I guess about the only good thing about taking baths, that makes up for sitting in your own filth, is that you get to play with kitchen ware.

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June 07, 2005


From Jim Croce:

If I could save Time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day
Til Eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you
If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then,
Again, I would spend them with you

Played on the jukebox tonight.

I don't always hang with Croce's lyrics. I'm a music guy. But when I hear this song, I think of two things. First, the guitar is excellent. I'd love to play like that. And second, I think of how haunting it is... he died the following year, '73, in a plane crash.

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Should I?

Taco Monday at Fritz's tonight. So I'm sitting there minding my own business, and a woman comes up, runs her fingers through my hair for a bit, then says, "It's getting long, Joseph."

I looked down to check, but wasn't sure if that's what she meant. This is a married woman. I visit with her husband all of the time. But when she asked me if I'd like to come over Sunday, I had to think very seriously about it.

I mean, sure, I'll let her cut my hair, I just don't know if I'm supposed to be elsewhere!

*BTW, while she missed the joke about me looking down, her hubby just cracked up.

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June 06, 2005

Taxing Your Health

Wow... what a great help. I don't even smoke, and reading crap like this pisses me off. "Higher taxes are good for your health!!!" Right.

Again, I don't smoke, but I do drink a teeny bit, and state liquor taxes are being raised. I'll be a healthy and pissed off bastard soon, if they have their way. And idiots will write about how great it is.

Won't be long and there will be a health tax.


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June 05, 2005

Music Meme Reloaded

Blog-sister Barb (of the Grau line), from Righty in a Lefty State, has tagged me with a music meme. I've found that I did this one before, but the reason you have others do these is to get to know them, so I'm going to repost it in the extended entry. Then she, her readers, and those that have started reading me since January can get to know me a bit!
Check it out, yo...

"If they all jumped off a bridge, would you?"
"Well, if there were a good reason to, yes. Definitely."

Tammi (and now, Barb!) has tagged me with the latest musical meme. So I'm jumping.

Random Ten Albums (I just picked some of those lying around my computer... they've got to be some of my favorites!):

Elmore James: The Sky Is Crying The History of Elmore James
James Gang: Rides Again
Jimi Hendrix: Blues
Machine Head: Burn My Eyes
Primus: Tales From The Punchbowl
Jane's Addiction: Nothing's Shocking
Johnny Cash: The Essential Johnny Cash
Stevie Ray Vaughan: In The Beginning
Clarence Gatemouth Brown: The Original Peacock Recordings
Clutch: The Elephant Riders

1. What is the total amount of music files on your computer?
I didn't really think it was that much, but when I checked, almost 4 gigs. Mostly, I just pop in a CD and jam while fiddling around on the computer.

2. The last CD you bought is:?
Slipknot's Subliminal Verses

Recently, Colonel Claypool's Buckets of Bernie Brains' "The Big Eyeball In The Sky," and Entombed's "Unreal Estate."

3. What is the song you last listened to before this message??
(Classified) by "Man or Astro-Man?"

Currently, "Vote With A Bullet" by Corrosion of Conformity

4. Five songs you often listen to or that mean a lot to you.

Johnny Cash's Tennessee Flat-Top Box and/or The Ballad of Ira Hayes
Faith No More, The Gentle Art of Making Enemies
SRV, Shake For Me
Slayer, Raining Blood
Hendrix, Manic Depression

I know that none of these songs are really touching or anything, they just bring back good memories. Of course, you could always check out the soundtrack of my life.

5. Who are you gonna pass this stick to (other persons and why)?
No tap backs!

That is all.

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Your Duality

Each and every one of us has both a good side, and a dark side. You can be the most holy of holies, and you've still got both sides to deal with, Mr. Happy Face Jesus Loves Us All. Or any of you religious types. Good, bad... they're there. Your choices make you who you are.

Every now and again, you need to step over the line and examine what be goin down on the other side. Seriously. It's called balance. I'm not saying you need to become evil, just make yourself aware of your darker side, or lighter side for you evil SOBs.

Why bring this up? I don't know... drunkenesss, maybe. But also a project I've been working on. I've kind of stepped on to the darker side, and found a drop off. I must say, I've freaked myself out. Never knew that my hollow skull was capable of dreaming up some of the stuff that has visited me. Cool and frightening.

Ever creeped yourself out? Just curious.

Evil T1G

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June 04, 2005


Wow... five posts in one day! Make that six. Gotsta be a new record for me! Should be doing something other than posting drivel.

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Troubled Pets And Substance Abuse

I've noticed an alarming trend beginning to develop over the past few days. More pets are starting to gravitate toward chemical happiness.

Tammi's dog, Cody, allowed us to see that he won't hesitate to try a get a nip of rotgut when he thinks no one's looking.

And it looks like Big Stupid Tommy's dog was busted, too!

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Early Reads

Last week, Dash had a post up about Fred Gipson. Dash wrote about Gipson and his story of "Old Yeller." Got me thinking about some of the books that I read as a kid, and how some of them have shaped what I am today. I thought about making up my own meme, but there's too much of that going around lately! I remember reading "Old Yeller," and the follow up story, "Savage Sam." Great, life-like stories.

Others that we read (and still make allusions to) were Sterling North's "Rascal," and "The Wolfling," Ralph Moody's "Little Britches," and "The Little House Series," by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Yeah, yeah, I know... Little House books were considered girls' books, but they were damn good stories. I proudly proclaim that I will have the whole damn series one day.

Who were some of the authors you enjoyed as a youngster, and what were some of your favorite stories?

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Chocolate Fix

Young's Double Chocolate Stout, and leftover chocolate chip and caramel brownies or cake.

It's what's for brunch.

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I've seen UFOs and pink elephants, talked to ghosts or hallucinations, even thought I saw a Sasquatch, but it turned out to be a co-worker under bad lighting. Once, I even thought I may have seen a leprechaun, but I thought it couldn't possibly be. Yabu from Bad Bad Juju explains why I truly could have seen one. They exist, and he explains their origins.

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Fire is a strange thing. It cleanses, as in nature. It destroys. It strengthens and weakens. It hardens and softens metals. It provides warmth, but can also leave you out in the cold.

It also does very strange things to bloggers. Last night, I watched in amazement, as seemingly normal people, bloggers, held some bizarre voodoo ritual, and proceded to burn anything not nailed down, while doing some awful whiteboy dance. I watched as they discussed burning another blogger's possessions... to help. Luckily for Teresa, she fled before the ritual began.

What a way for Sissy to meet everyone. Her first blogmeet. I hope she isn't too scarred. As I am.

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June 03, 2005

Carnival of Recipes v42.0

The forty twoth Carnival of Recipes is up over at Conservative Friends. You... go there. Now.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:15 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Someday, when I grow up and get big, I will get some sleep. And then I'll be able to think of things to write, and the cartoons and Ramones songs will stop playing non-stop in my head, and I will feel much saner.

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Non-pet Owner's Rules

I was sent these by co-worker and chief insulter, Lance. I was the first person he thought of when he saw these, he says.

Rules For Non-Pet Owners Who Visit And Complain About Our Pets

1. They live here - you do not.
2. If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture.
3. I like my pet better than I like most people.
4. To you it's an animal. To me, it's an adopted child who is short, hairy, walks on all fours, and is speech-challenged.
5. Dogs and cats are better than kids. They eat less, are easier to train, usually come when called, don't ask for money, never drive my car, don't hang out with losers, don't drink or smoke, don't worry about the latest fashions, don't wear my clothes (although they've been known to sleep on them from time to time) and don't need a gazillion dollars for college. And, if they get pregnant, I can sell the results.

Wonder why he thought of me? :)

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June 02, 2005

Breaking Fast With T1G

It's been a long while since I posted a recipe, so I guess it's about time. Personally, I mix this up the evening before, cover and refrigerate it overnight, then bake it in the morn. Who the hell wants to actually have to prepare food in the morning, when you can just pop this in the oven! Anyway, here it is:

That 1 Breakfast Casserole

24 oz hot bulk sausage (or if you are feeling a bit on the wimpy side, mix hot and mild, or even just use mild... just don't invite me if you do!) ;)*
10 eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup sour cream
1 large onion, chopped
3 or 4 jalapeno peppers, chopped (or 1 green pepper)
1 red pepper, chopped
1 zucchini, chopped
2 cups cubed cheese (any favorite)
and for those with a hankerin' for close relations to athlete's foot, and jock itch, 16 oz (1 lb) mushrooms, sliced

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Cook sausage, drain grease, and set aside to cool slightly. In a large, deep baking dish, add all ingredients and stir to mix. Bake uncovered for 30 minutes, or until golden color. Again, I would rather make it up the night before, and bake it in the morning. This is good shit, Maynard. Enjoy.

*If you would make this in the wimpy fashion, I would still eat it if you invited me. The casserole, that is. Something to keep in mind.

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Confusing English

Not an English major, am I. If the plural of mouse is mice, why isn't the plural of house hice? Grouse, grice?

My thought for the day.

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June 01, 2005

The Communication King

I am a horrible person to have as a friend or relative. Oh, you have a problem, or need a hand, I'll be there... like yesterday. You can count on me to be there. You just can't count on communicating with me.

I'm not sure wht the hell my problem is when it comes to communication. Calling, writing, e-mail, visits... I just don't do them well. It wasn't always like this. Actually, until the past few years, it was hardly ever like this.

Growing up, most of my "close" friends were scattered throughout Wisconsin. At least every other week or so, a letter was mailed. In a few cases, phone calls might be made a couple of times a month. Either way, we were always in touch, and able to work out get togethers.

Now days? Uh... yeah. My mother hardly hears from me on a regular basis. Until this weekend, she hadn't seen or heard from me since Mother's Day. And before that, I think... Easter. I'm not sure. My abilities to keep in touch with the rest of my family aren't much better. I love them all more than you could guess, I just...

Well, I went to a party at one of my old friend's house over the weekend. Growing up, her family lived about 5 hours away from us, but we kept in touch. She and her husband are now only 30-35 minutes away from me. So I visit them any chance I get, right? Nope. It's been a year. I knew I was pushing it, but holy cow! Anyway, as soon as she figured out who I was, I got a great big hug... and then the scolding began in earnest. For the rest of the evening, any time that she or her family had an opportunity to get a dig in on me, they hopped on it. And I would expect nothing less.

So much can happen over the course of the year. Well, yeah, I guess that's obvious. She had a baby boy back in January. Other family news. Her middle son was walking very tentatively, now he's everywhere. I missed alot.

I did get a birth announcement, so I wrote a little something to ease the ass-chewing that I knew was coming my way. But I lost it when my computer croaked. I've found part of what I had scribbled on a shop order, so I posted it anyway. You won't find it in my recent posts. Brayden was born on January 21, so I dated the post for then. Check it out, if you like. I'm going to send her the link, and see if that keeps me from being crucified!

The whole family is a group of great people and I enjoy visiting with them all (when I'm around), but I really enjoy visiting with her father. He said to me, "You know, Joe, friendship doesn't always depend on seeing each other all of the time. Friends can meet after a long time, and pick up their conversation right where they left off. That is a sign of true friendship." It almost could sound hokey, but if you know him, it's not in the least. As a matter of fact, it's been two years since I had seen him, and we picked up right where we were last.

Now, I'm not trying to justify my communication deficiency. I know that I'm horrible at it, and I'm aware that I should work on it, and I'll try. Honest, I will. But it is kinda nice to know that at least one person isn't expecting much from me other than to pick up where we left off.

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May 31, 2005

Movie Meme

Finally, a response to Tammi tagging me with the latest meme. Let's watch...

1) Total number of films I own on DVD/video:

I'm not too sure... between the two, probably about two hundred. Tops.

2) The last film I bought:

Either "Snatch," or "Fear Factory: Digital Connectivity." I'll go with "Snatch." (snicker)

3) The last film I watched:

"Without A Paddle"

4) Five films that I watch a lot or that mean a lot to me (in no
particular order):

This should have been "Five films other than 'Monty Python's Holy Grail' and 'Army of Darkness' that I watch alot, or that mean alot to me." Who hasn't had their lives affected by these timeless masterpieces?

Okay, other than the two obvious ones:

Any Danny Kaye film, especially "The Inspector General."

Almost any Bob Hope film.

Ditto Fred Astaire.

"Jeremiah Johnson"

"Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" Some of my favorite quotes: "This is the happiest day of my life! My testicles are dropping!" and,
Freddy: "Excuse me. May I go to the bathroom first?"
Lawrence:" Of course you may."
Freddy: [Slowly smiling and looking like he's just relieved himself] "Thank you."

We watched alot of Kaye, Hope, and Astaire when I was growing up. Funny stuff, and it makes me think of how tight we were as a family. You'll still hear us quoting movies from this time.

5) Tag 5 people See if you get any volunteers, and have them put this in their journal:

Any takers?

UPDATE: How could I forget "Eric the Viking?" I'm slipping.

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Spent most of the weekend away from home. I was up at my sister's place helping my brother in law build a playset for the boys. My brother, The Perfect One, was there helping on Saturday, and he brought his little one.

I've come to this conclusion: while I'm not sure what happens to us later, our family starts out as damn cute kids. Seriously. My nephews and my cousin's kids (who may as well be nephews and niece) are some of the cutest kids that I personally know. And that is only mildly biased.

And, to help further their cuteness, they say/do some of the funniest things. I was smiling an awful lot this weekend, between the tunes, and my little cartoons. The Perfect One's little guy has just started motoring around. It's funny as hell watching him trying to keep his balance... looks like he's dancing, with his little index fingers pointing all over.

The little guys know that their uncles are full of it, too. My sister's youngest started whining about a sliver (he must get that from his dad), and he wouldn't let anyone touch it, because "it hurt." I told him that what I do when I get a sliver, is to cut my finger off. Then I can dig the sliver out of my finger and it won't hurt. Of course, it hurts later when I have to sew the finger back on, but you're going to have pain one way or the other! I got an excellent eyeroll for that one!

Once we finished with the playset, the boys wanted to play on it. Play? I told them that now that we're finished, we burn it down and start over. I kept a straight enough face that the eldest looked at my with some concern, before deciding that I lied. Heheh. Man, kids are fun!

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May 30, 2005

Memorial Day Greeting

Hope that you all have a great Memorial Day! Enjoy your cookouts, time with family and friends. Whatever you do today, may you have a great one!

Most importantly, don't forget those who are honored on this day. If you have time, read some of the blogs on my blogroll... there are some great posts about Memorial Day that can be found there.


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May 29, 2005

I Wish...

I could have seen my face today. I must have been grinning from ear to ear anytime I was driving. I was smiling so much, that my face hurts. (Yeah, yeah, I know... it's killing you.)

My brother in law gave me a disc that he burned, and it triggered so many good memories. I thought that this band was long gone, but they put out an album last year. They haven't changed a bit, and I'm glad of it.

I grew up in a very religious household. I wasn't a saint, but I sure wasn't a rotten kid. One thing that used to give my mom fits was my taste in music. She knew what I listened to, but would rather I didn't play it in the house, or around her. So most of my listening was done in my car.

Exodus has been around for as long as I've been driving. While listening to the newest disc, I had memories of my '73 LeSabre, '78 Gran Prix, and my '87 Olds 442. Times spent with my brothers and friends. Trouble gotten into and away from. Trips up to Northern Wisconsin. Hot summer days, with the sunroof open on the Olds.

I'm sitting here thinking about younger days, again. Daydreaming. Not the best of times, but good times. May there be many more.

So what are some of the things that smash open the gates of memory for you?

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Fowl Play

Something to make you think "WTF?" until I can post something with thought.

Johannesburg, California police have taken to ticketing chickens.

They still haven't determined why the damn thing crossed the road in the first place.

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May 28, 2005


"eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...." -Joe's ears, May 28, 2005

Holy cow, people! Sorry if my typing seems a little hoarse, but I caught a show last night. Damn good show!

Went to Elixur in Rockford (I'd provide a link, but there's some god-awful dance music there) to see Local H, along with SOiL and American Motherload. My apologies to the fourth band. We came in during the last song of their set, and I never did hear who they were.

I'd never been to Elixur before, but it is a great place for a show. The place isn't overly huge (I think I heard it holds 900), and it's one of those places where the crowd is right at the edge of the stage. They had "security" in place, bouncers, to help keep idiots in check. No problems for them. Hell, these guys were starting a mosh pit by the end of the night!

I'll not go on for too long.

American Motherload- First time I'd ever heard of these guys, but it won't be the last. Their music could maybe fit the "metal" tag, but they are more of a hard rock band. And rock hard, they do! The band themselves are pretty cool guys. I was wearing my Corrosion of Conformity shirt, and some guy came up and started talking about COC. Found out later, he was the guitarist. The singer also was complimenting my shirt... they were big fans, and you can hear some of the influence in their music.

SOiL- Always good to see these guys. I was a little worried about the band having a new singer, but he did an excellent job. Kinda made the songs his own! He added a little bit of aggression to the songs. Heh, I even got into the pit for a song... thought I was going to puke after getting clocked, but it was still a good time! I'm glad to see these guys back out, and I'm looking forward to the new album.

Local H- The reason I have no voice. One of my favorite bands to see live, their songs are not complex or full of bull. The songs are written for you to scream along with them! I'm not sure how many times I've seen them, but I recommend that you check them out. It's two guys putting out a wall of noise! Scott, the guitarist, has his guitar set up so that he goes into two amps... one bass, and one guitar. If you'd never seen them, you'd swear that there was a full band playing. As a matter of fact, that's how I was introduced to them. I swore that it was some big band, because the music sounded so thick, and as I walked around the stage, there's just two guys. Incredible.

So that's my beginning to this weekend. What are your plans?

Update: The fourth band was called One Little Sin. I couldn't find a link. Sorry.

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May 27, 2005

Happy Birthday, Machelle

Okay, there's supposed to be some work boots, shorts, and skin here. Machelle requested that for her b-day. I spent almost an hour on something last night, and I can't get the damn thing to show. Maybe after work I'll be able to figure it out.

Anyway, go over and wish her a "Happy Birthday!" Sounds like she's going to need it, with the "great" start she's got for the day!

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May 26, 2005

45 minutes in Hell

"My cat is so cute...." "Yeah, mine is, too!" "They just make you smile..." "People say they're stupid animals, but they are very smart!" "My cat brings me 'gifts.'" "My cat brought food to a litter of kittens that wasn't even hers." "My cat found a mouse."

Duh. Too bad all of my silverware has been removed. "My cat.... my cat... my cat...."

Jeebus, make it stop! "My cat has formulated a cure for cancer." "Wow, mine has a plan for world peace!"

Kill me now.

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May 24, 2005


Damn, I've got a couple of weird cravings. Well, maybe they ain't so weird, but the trigger and the craving have nothing in common that I can tell. I'm puzzled.

Trigger: A co-worker eating lasagna for lunch. (I love lasagna... alot. I mean way. too. much.)

The cravings: A ham and cheese loaf, and Lays potato chip sandwich, and a Frito boat. (Just in case you don't know, a Frito boat is this: take a small bag of fritos, smash the bejeezus out of them, and open the bag lengthwise. Add taco meat, lettuce, tomatoes, Tabasco, sour cream, cheese, and peppers. Stir and chow.)

I have absolutely no idea what they have in common, but the craving is strong enough that I'm thinking of running to the store.

Can you think of any tie? Or, better yet, what are some of your food cravings?

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My Day

Once I clicked out of "zombie mode" this morn, it seemed that I was heading into a good day. The sun was shining, nice cool breeze blowing, birds were singing... wait, those were starlings cackling. Still, not a bad way to start the morning.

Heading out to the garage, that changed in a hurry. As I rounded the corner, I was greeted with the bracing fragrance of feline urine. Any guilty feelings that I may have had about the post below disappeared in an instant. Since I had left the windows of the car open a crack, I was able to enjoy cat stench for most of the drive into work.

Pulling away from the garage, I noticed my neighbor's cats watching me through the newly installed window (they've just stared at me since it was put in... creeps me out), and I swear the bastards were smirking. They probably were the lookouts during the whole territory marking incident last night. Just as I was about to sneer back, I noticed my neighbor (a rather large man) sitting at his table in his bungies. A pretty sight indeed! My eyes were now watering from cat stench and "fat guy in bungies" shock.

By the time that I reached work, both the smell and the shock had worn away. Just in time for the crew of monkeys that power my brain to clock in. However, instead of the usual chittering and flinging of poo that I've come to know and love, they came armed with 32 oz ballpeen hammers. My head was killing me, and I hadn't drank much at all last night!

Looked like I was in for a long day, until one of the ladies gave me some tylenol. After poisoning the monkeys, the day flew by fairly well. I had a few problems, but nothing serious to deal with. Went by so well, that I'm at a loss for things to blog about. Well, except for my day.

Oh, yes! I almost forgot! One more commercial starring a cat. Again, "Here be things ye may not care to see, ye scurvy lovers of cats!"

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May 23, 2005

Christine, By Ford

No much time to post anything, but I've gotta leave you with this. Look away, ye lovers of cats.

If I can't get a truck, I have to get this car.

Hat tip to Chris at A Large Regular.

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May 22, 2005

Quick Sports Notes

I may not get to post anything else today, so I figured to drop off some quick sports notes.

Brandon McCarthy will make his White Sox debut today, pitching against Mark Prior. I'm not trying to diss McCarthy, but I think this game goes to the Cubs. Prior should win this unless he gets a high pitch count and the Cubs have to go to their blowpen bullpen. Tammi should be happy to avoid the sweep. Still, go Brandon!

While I'm far from a NASCAR fan, it was pretty cool to walk into the bar last night, just in time to see Mark Martin win the Nextell All-Star Challenge. He's one of the few drivers that I kind of keep track of, and probably my favorite. Why? Just seems like a class act, and when I was in the Marines, my roomate was a huge fan of his. Mark Martin stuff everywhere. I think that may be where my interest came from.

Tomorrow is the first day of the French Open. Once again, I'm not a huge tennis fan, but I do like watching the French Open and Wimbledon. Some of you may remember why. Anyway, because of the event, the French terror alert level has risen from "Run," to "Hide," with a great chance of seeing the next levels of "Surrender," and "Collaborate." I'll try to keep you posted.

Have a good day!

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May 21, 2005

Windy City Classic: Day Two

My aploogies, but I've got an earworm that I just have to share:

Oops!...They did it again,
The Cubes played the Sox, and lost once again.
Poor Tammi, Tammi
Zambrano, he pitched a gem
Then they went to their 'pen
They're not much good this year!

I'm thinking that perhaps Tammi's glad that a wager wasn't made! :)

Seriously, Zambrano was looking awesome... I hope that the Cubs don't stress his arm out by keeping him in. But then again, without an effective bullpen, you would want to keep your starter in until just before his arm fell off.

Score for those who care:

Sox 5
Cubbies 3

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May 20, 2005

Windy City Classic: Day One

Just a really short note here. An update for Tammi, just in case she hadn't heard. She's been kind enough to call me before and update me while the Tampa Bay D-Rays were playing the Sox (White, one each), I figure the least I can do is to return the favor.

White Sox 5
Cubes 1

That would mean that the White Sox won the game. Indeed, the headline reads something like this: White Sox show Cubs who's boss of Chicago now!

Just trying to help out.

(Of course, I realize that I probably jinxed the rest of the weekend, but oh well, gotta strike while the iron's hot!)

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Thursday, It's Origins

Scholars may tell you that yesterday, Thursday, is named after some Roman god. Jove, or Jupiter. The Latin name for the day was supposedly "dies jovis." Apparently, we are to believe that the name by which it known to us is derived from the Norse counterpart for Jove: Thor. In old English, the day was called Thursdaye, or Thoresday. I'm telling you, that is bull.

Thursday is actually derived from "Tardsday." This is the day in which all of the idiots come out to celebrate by doing as many stupid things as possible. How else does one explain leaving for work 5 minutes earlier than usual, but arriving at work 10 minutes later than normal?

Run into a convenience store to grab some quick breakfast, and a tard will be behind the counter telling a fellow tard all about some animal (I bet it was a rabid cat) getting into their vehicle overnight, and destroying the interior... for five minutes. This could be done quicker, but usually that's saved for Mondays.

On Tardsday, long lines of angry people are an essential part of the celebration. This goes for traffic as well. Tards will line themselves up so that no one may pass, while waving their arms and carrying on as if they are pissed at the gravel truck doing 35 mph. through the country. Yet, they cannot pass, because they are trammelled by the celebratory rules which forbid intelligent activities.

A dead stop in the middle of nowhere is one of the favored rituals. This will usually occur near a curve, just out of view to a non-celebrant. Of course, the long line of traffic will serve as cushion, so that the tard doing the stopping will be able to proceed unmarred. It almost worked on me yesterday, but I'm a little too quick.

However, I did indeed join in the festivities: I was the idiot who pulled directly into the path of an oncoming vehicle without looking. Oh, I thought I looked, but once I realized how close this came to an accident, I knew that I couldn't have. I felt like I fit right in with everyone else! I've never been happier to be a tard.

How did you celebrate the day?

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May 19, 2005

See Ya Tomorrow

Visitation will be tonight, so I'll be getting home a little later. Unless I can get rid of this inability to think, I probably won't post until tomorrow. Thanks for checkin' in, and I'll see ya then.


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May 18, 2005


Holy crap! I didn't think that you guys were going to be that anxious to see where my thoughts were dwelling the other night. I have to apologize for taking so long to post.

I'm not actually posting on what all I was thinking about... I don't think that there was a truly original thought in any of the versions that I wrote up. Maybe original in the way that they were slopped together, but... Anyway, this is the Reader's Digest condensed form.

A friend of mine was killed in an accident the other night. Now, I'm definitely not happy that she's gone, but I am happy that she went out doing something that she loved dearly, while being with someone whose company she really enjoyed. Not counting the fact that she's gone, I wish the end hadn't had been so damn violent. Of course, then she may have suffered. Sounds as if she were dead instantly.

I spent Monday thinking about life, in general, and mine specifically. At the time that I posted "Time Out," I wasn't dwelling on the sadness anymore. But it did hit in waves. I was up 'til too late trying to write about it, and realizing that it wasn't going to work. Mostly, I was thinking about changes that I need to make in my life. Nothing drastic, but little things can turn out to be drastic.

Many of us get complacent in our lives. "I can always take care of that later," we say. I start thinking, and I realize that I am one of the most complacent SOBs that I know. I put off little things that I don't think will matter, and, if I would take care of them eventually, they don't. But if you always push them back, things tend to pile up, and before you know it, you're buried as they all come down. An easy fix, I just have to make myself aware of my dodging or putting off the small things.

As I was thinking about all of this, I came up with a long list. But as I was writing it all down, it began to sound like a friggin' sermon. I'm not going to preach to anyone. First of all, I have no room to talk. Secondly, and probably most important, you are all big kids. You can make your own decisions without some drunk guy slobberin' his views all over your shoulder. If you can't... well, that's just sad!

I guess the point of all the rambling was simply this: Death may be the end of a life, but if you view it properly, it can be the beginning of yours. It just depends on what you take from it.

R.I.P. Tamara, and thank you.

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May 16, 2005

Time Out

It's kind of a quiet evening of reflection tonight. I'll be checking on folks, but not sayin' much. I'll explain later... maybe even later tonight. Don't worry, it's not a doom and gloom thing. It just is... life.

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May 15, 2005

Muddin' and Mentoring

This weekend, I got to make a run up to Little Green Lake, near Markesan, Wisconsin. A friend of mine owns a cottage on the lake, and he needed a hand putting in the pier. Me being the guy that I am, I offered to assist. Riding up with me, was my cousin's oldest son. He's a good kid, but I'm working on fixing that.

While the thought is a little scary, I am kind of a mentor to N. He hasn't felt that he can always talk to his parents about some things without getting his head ripped off, so he will call me. I'll try to help him as much as I can, but I often end up telling him how he can talk to his parents about whatever may be his concern. Really scary is the fact that he looks up to me. I can't wait to see what comes about after this weekend.

The ride up is always a beautiful trip, filled with sightings of deer, turkeys, and sometimes cranes. We got to see a huge HUGE turkey that I'm guessing would have been near thirty pounds. Now, I base that estimate on the tom that my brother harvested a few years ago. That bird was near twenty pounds, and this bird was much, much, much larger. We also got to see three cranes, at two different locations. What kind? Hell, I don't know. Big. How's that? I just know that it's cool as hell to watch them flying.

No other sightings to report as we made our way up Hwy. 73. However, once we neared Randolph, we discovered that the road was detoured. "Road Closed To Thru Traffic." I took a look, and thought, "What the hell. Let's try it!"

What a blast! N looked at me with concern as I weaved past the roadblocks, and started making my way down through the construction zone. (Of course, there were no workers there) It didn't take long, and we were totally without pavement of any type... it looked like we were in for a big drop! As I neared the dropoff, I noticed that there was indeed a small incline, so at least it wouldn't be a violent drop.

Some of you have seen my car. It's a Malibu. Not really the best thing for off-roading. But it can suprise ya! It didn't take long, and we were in mud... rained earlier. Some of the muddy ruts were at least six inches deep, and we were scraping the bottom of the car for a stretch of about twenty feet. I didn't think we were going to make it once she started dragging, but the Muddin Malibu made it! We were almost sideways at times, but we did it.

I was laughing my ass off... at least until we started dragging. But N went from being nervous, to laughing so hard that he had tears running! And after some of the looks we got when we emerged from that stretch, he would bust out laughing again. Once we got to the lake, we found out why we garnered so many looks... the sides of the car were covered in mud!

Putting in the pier went rather smoothly, with the exception of the waders. I wear size twelve tennis shoes, and got stuck wearing size eight waders, and one of the other guys wears thirteens, and was crammed into nines. My friggin' toes were killing me. But I didn't have it as bad as the other guy... his waders also leaked! It was a slow leak, so what water made it in was heated by his body heat, but a leak is a leak.

You should have heard when he climbed out of the water onto the pier. It wasnt' exactly a scream, but it was so much more than a yell. He had to lay down on the pier and pull himself up because of the weight of the water. When he did, the water that he thought was warm flowed up and made contact with "the boys!" It turned out, the water wasn't all that warm!!

On the way back, I discovered that I may have created a monster... N spent about half of the ride talking about going muddin' (through construction areas) with his truck. I sure as hell couldn't tell him not to do it! The best I could do was to tell him to stick to rippin' up the back forty at his friends farm. Although if he were to go through a construction zone, he should wait until the weekend when no one would be working. (Obviously) And, if it were a fun ride, he should come back and get me!!!


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Arms of God

Hey, all you Corrosion of Conformity fans! Have you bought, burned, or stolen their latest effort, In the arms of god? If you said no, please lean forward, and click here... did it hurt? I've been trying to perfect a virtual bitchslap, but not making much progress. So if you really did feel that, let me know what meds you are taking, and I'll stay away from them.

Back to this most excellent of discs. I've got to say that I am a bit biased. To me, they haven't put out a bad album. Some not as good as others, but still, none suck. (Unlike Blow, and Reblow by Metallica.) But this is one kick ass album! Pepper Keenan and Woody Weatherman play some mean guitar, and Mike Dean on bass is steady as usual.Some of the riffs just make you want to bang your head... hell, I wish I still had my long hair so I could do it justice!

My personal hotspots on this disc are In The Arms of God, Dirty Hands, Empty Pockets, and Paranoid Opioid. If you're short on time, the best stretch to listen to is the last track,In The Arms of God, and then the first two tracks, Stonebreaker, and Paranoid Opioid. There really isn't a bad spot on here, but there are a couple of tracks that don't quite fit with the rest of the album.

One of the things that really stuck out to me was the drummer that they used in the studio. Stanton Moore adds alot. Before I read his bio, I could easily tell that this guy is a jazz drummer. While Corrosion is a gritty, bluesy metal/rock band, his style fits right in. He's not touring with them. Jason Paterson is taking his spot on the tour, and he seems to do pretty good... not a slam on Jason. But I enjoyed Moore's playing so much, that I will be checking out his solo works, along with his band Galactic.

Oddly, the only complaint that I have about this album has to do with the drums. But it's the mix, and not the drummer. Through most of the tracks, the bass drum is too loud, with the volume of the drums overall occasionally trying to overide the rest of the music.

Definitely an album to check out!

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May 12, 2005


This isn't something that I would normally post about. As a matter of fact, I don't really want to. But I feel I have to... I've been so amused and amazed by this, that I have need to post it. And while I know you're not going to want to read it, you will...

I finished ... making a deposit... earlier, and I was just dumbfounded. Blue poo! I've never been so impressed! Now I know how my brother felt after eating that red cake, and how excited he was when he made his own designer fudge!

I tried to figure out where this lovely shade came from... besides my ass. The only thing I can think of is a sports drink that I had earlier today. That's the only thing. Now I want to sample the other flavors just to see what hues I can come up with.

Powerade- Used by fecal painters everywhere!

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May 11, 2005

Congrats To Eric

Eric, of Straight White Guy, just hit 200,000 hits tonight/this morning. (Depending on where you are.)

Know something kinda sad? I can't sleep, so I've been checking his site off and on, waiting for it to happen. I don't think I was "the one," but I was close!

Anyways, Congratulations, Eric!

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Feelin' Crappy

I feel as if...

I jumped out of bed (from the wrong side, of course), and sprained my ankle.

When I went to take my shower, the only temperature that worked well was "frigid."

As I went to rinse off for the last time, the sewers backed up, leaving me standing in raw sewage.

I went to eat my cereal, and discovered that someone had indeed pissed in my Wheaties.

Running late, I get stuck in a long line of traffic, my own parade... a lunatic parade, if you will.

Of course, it rains on my parade.

When I finally arrive to work, my job is threatened.

At breaktime, I can't get any of the vending machines to work for me.

The day drags by as if the clock were moving backwards... and it really is.

This isn't the after effects of last night's intoxication... no hangover at all. It's just been a really crappy day. I think I'll catch up on my e-mails, which are about a week behind, and make a couple of visits, then hit the hay for the evening.

How was your day?

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More Accounts

If you haven't seen them, go there now... Contagion and Little Joe give their accounts of the meet on Saturday. Love Little Joe's description of Harvey.

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May 10, 2005


You could catch the faint scent of freshly cut grass, overpowered by blooming lilacs. And every now and again, you might smell the scent of topsoil, as someone nearby worked the earth for their garden.

The killdeer were playing on a driveway, as the first mosquitos started to show.

The distant sound of a lawnmower grew rapidly louder, accompanied by loud mewling, and maniacal laughter. A man, no longer sane, ran through your yard, 6 horses provided by Briggs and Stratton, running in front of him... cursed tabby fleeing.

"Oh, yes, my feline friend. I promise to you that I shall end the chasing of the hounds... the scrounging of the food... the yowling in the night. Do not run from me, and the end, while messy, will be swift. And I promise to gift you with eternal sleep."

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Math for Morons

Okay, this is like a step back to school for ya!

You have a machine. There are two "feed rollers" that feed stock into your machine, where it is automatically cut off. Stock is fed between these rollers, which are 8" in diameter. The amount of stock needed to be fed is 9", but the gearing being used varies from 1" to 30". You have a limited amount of stock, so you want to set this up as close as possible to the proper length before actually feeding stock into the machine. There are no indicators available.

How can you determine (roughly) how far the rollers have to turn? If you said 9", let me personally bitch slap you. What I'm talkin' is position of the rollers.

I usually can figure this out in seconds... but today it took me a half an hour. I have no set formula for figuring this out, I just do it. Today though, I was blank. No wonder why I dropped out of geometry... I always came up with the correct answers, but not the proper route needed to achieve said answer. Damn those axioms and theorems!

I did eventually figure it out, but it didn't seem like the usual way I do it. Let's see what you come up with.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:40 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Probably shouldna driven home. Threw the car into reverse at a stop sign.

I've got an automatic.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:30 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

May 09, 2005

Blog Western

While I was computerless, I really missed the communication with some of my favorite bloggers, and the Bad Example Family. Something else that I missed, were the projects that the lovely Christina likes to put together.

She had organized a blog novella that turned out in awesome fashion, and a blog noir that turned out in a similar way. Both were incredibly smooth with their transitions from blogger to blogger, and the stories great.

Well, unless you've been computerless, or just crawled out from under a rock, you know that she's at it again. This time it's a western, and each chapter is one of the seven deadly sins. And once again, it's moving fluidly.

Dax Montana starts us out with chapter one.

Moogie takes chapter two.

WitNit has chapter three.

Kelley has chapter four up already.

Next up is the ever silent Eric.

Enjoy, folks!

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A Riding Question

To a cyclist, each lane of the highway or street is divided into three smaller lanes: Left, center (oil strip), and, obviously, right. I personally prefer to ride to the left, except when turning right. It's also the lane recommended in the handbooks that I've read, but that's a poor excuse for doing it. I ride there simply because it gives me more room to maneuver should a situation develop.

I've always seen a rider or two that seem to hug the right. But this year, there has been an unusually large number that I've noticed. To me, it doesn't make any sense. Unless of course, your group is riding in staggered formation. But I'm talking about individual riders.

So my question to you who ride, or have ridden, is this: Which "lane" do you ride in, and why? I'm especially interested in those that ride the oil strip and right.

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May 08, 2005

A Late Mother's Day Wish

Sorry that this is a little late, but I just wanted to wish all of you mothers out there a Happy Mother's Day! Especially my blog siblings, although Sally's Mothering Sunday was March 6. I'm really late for hers. Happy Mum's Day.

Mothers are very special people. It can't be an easy job... not many kids are the angel that I was growing up.

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Fleeing Fritz's

As a sometime blogger, I feel it is my duty to keep you informed of your fellow bloggers' conduct. Therefore, I submit to you yet another true and accurate report of a blogmeet. This one in my hometown.

Let me start by saying this: I'm not sure that I'm ever going to do another blogmeet. Ever. I'm kinda sick of carrying the conversation all evening. Dries out the vocal chords. I'm not saying that these aren't good people, but holy crap, they are quiet.

Once again, I was one of the first there, this time at Fritz's Wooden Nickel. Of course, this could possibly be because I live only a few blocks away, but I prefer to say that it's because I really care about meeting people. Really. A more outgoing son of a motherless goat you will not meet. Anyway, not long after I walked in, Tammi arrived. I introduced her to some of the locals, and then in walked the man, the myth, the guy who looks just like his baby picture: Harvey. And by his side, stood his enforcer lovely wife, TNT. This time, there was no "ring incident." I had talked with TNT earlier and explained that if he were to have me beaten again, the locals would make short work of them. I also pointed out that Harvey does have kind of a pretty mouth, and it wouldn't go unnoticed. For the most part, it was an uneventful meeting. Although, I did knock over a couple of bar stools trying to cover myself when he jokingly flashed his ring at me. What a kidder!

Teresa showed up a little late, and once again, she was more than a little grouchy. Seems that some bonehead had forgotten that there are actually two Hwy. 20 exits between here and Chicago. She was not one to be messed with, at least not at first. She actually did smile a couple of times, but as soon as she was aware of it, well, whoever happened to be talking to her at the time bore the brunt of her wrath. She just does not seem to want to be happy!

We were all a little disappointed that Grau wasn't going to make it. He came up with some really dumbass excuse as to why he couldn't show. I mean, it's Mother's DAY, not weekend, right? And his wife isn't actually his mother, so why the hell not spend Saturday evening with us, instead of staying in the Frizzen Cave? Piss poor excuse, blog sperm donor! Piss poor blogdad, period. I hope you've been paying Harvey child support, you troglodyte bastard!

About the time that we had given up hope that anyone else was coming (perhaps I should say I had given up hope... I was running out of things to talk about), in walked Contagion and Little Joe. I had met Contagion before, but this was the first time meeting Little Joe. His name is apt... if he received his moniker from Robert Wadlow. And, he looked like a guy who might enjoy visiting... boy, was I wrong.

Contagion seemed content to take Eric's role from the last meet. Couldn't get him to make a sound if you lit him on fire. (Which Harvey the sadist did try) Little Joe took a bit, but he finally started to feel comfortable and opened up some. We just had to take care not to move too quickly... he would try to dive under the table at sudden motion. And, as I pointed out, he's not the smallest guy... we ended up picking up dishes a couple of times.

Oh, and speaking of dishes, guess what my new job is going to be for a few weeks: If you said "Dishwasher," you are absolutely correct! Any guesses as to how that came about? Well, I'll just tell you. I made the mistake of getting up to hit the restroom, and when I came back, not one blogger was left in the bar! Dine and dash... and leave me to get tackled as I tried to run out the door! Thank God Fritz likes me, so he only hit me with the bar stool twice. I worked out a schedule, and I'll be getting rid of the large bill that these guys left.

Nope, I don't think I'm going to do this again. Too much talking, and too much work... both setting it up, and paying for it.


Teresa gives a slightly different version of the evening's events.

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Been over to Ogre's lately? Heard the crickets? I don't know about you, but everytime I hear that, I think of that story of the pirate who walked into the bar with a steering wheel coming from his pants.

When asked what the hell that was all about, he replied, "Aaarrrrrr, 'tis driving me nuts."

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May 07, 2005



Stillman Valley, Illinois

Fritz's Wooden Nickel

People meeting


Yabbering (courtesy of me... of course)

Dining and dashing


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Mexican Manicotti: It's What's For Breakfast

So I got to go over to Tammi's new digs last night. I'm talking place of residence, not bloghold. Very cool! I enjoy the hell out visiting with her, and now she's only about thirty miles away... how cool is that?

I really do feel for those of you that she's had to leave behind in Florida. It's not fair, but we've got your girl up here now. Heheh. And I understand why you all are so upset... it's not just because she's such a caring person. It's not because she's a great friend to you. And it's not because (for those who would like to, but are hesitant to set foot in a holy sanctuary lest you be struck down) you feel like you've entered a Catholic church will all of the candles blazing. (I've got to wonder about you "men" of the Bad Example Family who were so concerned with keeping the candles lit during the Family Reunion.)

Nope, you folks are going to miss her cooking. I know that's what it is! Sure, everything else comes into play, but when it comes right down to it, food is where it's at!

She made a kick ass Mexican manicotti... loaded with jalepenos. Mmmmmmmmm. And then she had cherry cobbler (and not a virgin shoemaker) for dessert. Damn. Good. And leftovers got sent with me. Bwahahahahahah!

So I now return to my breakfast of manicotti, cobbler, and beer. Life rocks today!

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May 05, 2005

Did It Work?

Just curious. I'm using AOHell right now, and I can't refresh my page to see if the attempt at extended entry below worked or not (don't ask me why... I'm clueless). If so, I offer up a virtual six pack to the great and powerful Ogre, for offering his assistance in this post.

If it didn't work, blame him. And shave one of his llamas.

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My White Sox

The Chicago White Sox are off to one of the best starts in team history. They lead all of baseball with a .750 winning percentage. Pitching is very solid... the team has an ERA of 2.94, second only to the Marlins. Jon Garland has been on fire. People are starting to get very excited around here. While I am extremely happy, I am far from excited.

Lemme tell ya why...

When I was a young lad (much like now, but younger), I got my first "stereo system" at the age of 14, 1981. My aunt gave me her old one. This thing got me hooked on White Sox baseball.

Every night, I listened to the games that were broadcast. I got to know all of the players, who was hot/not. Carlton Fisk became my hero. I rarely missed any games.

In '83, after the All Star break, the Sox were hot. The Series seemed like a very good possibility. I listened in awe as their new rookie, Ron Kittle, smacked 35 homers... towering shots! (BTW, if you didn't click that link, check it out... he's a hell of a man) They ended up winning the American League West by 20 games. LaMarr Hoyt won the AL Cy Young Award with his 24 wins. They cruised into the ALCS where they were dispatched by the Baltimore Orioles, who later went on to win the World Series. I was crushed.

In '93, the Sox win another division title, but lose to Toronto in the ALCS. I had followed these guys as much as I could, which wasn't all that much considering I was in the Marines at the time. What little bit of time I had for television was spent on cartoons and baseball. Again, crushed.

The following year, '94 (unless your calendar is different from mine), I seriously thought that the Sox had a chance to go all the way. And it wasn't just me... they were the talk of baseball until the strike shortened the season. If you see a Sox game on television, check out the stands... not totally empty, but far from filled... a by product of the strike. Sox fans don't forgive. I was pissed.

Our next chance was in 2000. The Sox took the Central Division, and were then swept by the Seattle Mariners in the AL Division Series. It was a great season, but by now, I'd gotten to realize that the Series isn't an easy thing to come by just because you have a great year.

Here we are in this year. They've got a great start, but I can't get overly excited... their hitting hasn't been what's winning games. As I said before, the pitching has been great so far. When it comes to hitting, they are almost in the bottom third of the league. ( I'm pretty sure that they were ranked at 19, but it's getting late, and I don't want to check anymore stats.) Things need to pick up if they are going to be a serious threat, at least to my mind.

One thing that I am a little excited about is the possibility of an '83 rematch. The Orioles are hot right now, also. If the Sox can make it all the way through this season in first place, I would like to see the O's right there with them... only to get crushed under the Sox's heels. God, that'd be great!

But I've got to be a realist, and while I hope for the best for my team, I've got to know that it's not likely that it's going to come about. I hope I haven't jinxed them by writing this! (Speaking of being a realist!)

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Flight of the Cousin

I was reading this post over at Harvey's, where Harvey takes a jab at _Jon. _Jon came back with this:

"When you were a kid, did you smack hornet nests with a short stick?"

I noticed that it sounds as if he thinks this were a bad thing... but it did bring back some thoughts of days of old. My brother, The Perfect One, and I used to do that all the time. Don't know for sure how it got started, but we used to go armed with sticks, or small boards, and beat the bejeezus out whatever hornets we could find.

I've mentioned that we lived on a farm growing up. There were plenty o' places for hornets to make their nests. One of the preferred spots was the framework of feed wagons. We used to beat on the framework until they started swarming out, and then knock them out of the air with the sticks. As soon as they hit the ground, we stomped on them. Sometimes, the stomp was unneccesary... if you hit them right, they would make a snapping pop, and, Voila, guts of hornet!

Perhaps my fondest memory of this is the time that my cousin from town came out to visit us. Now, it's not like they hardly ever came out... we grew up with them. And it's not as if he didn't know that we liked to do things a little differently... he had been at the table the time that one of us asked for someone to pass the milk, and one of us (my siblings will tell you it was me, but they lie) fired off a beautiful pass with the brand new gallon of milk. It ended up shooting through outstretched hands and splattering on the floor. Not smart. Funny, but definitely not smart. Someone got their ass beat up over their ears for that one. But I'm wandering.

Anyway, my cousin went out to the barnyard with my brother and me. He had heard that we were in the hornet beating proffession, but he hadn't a clue that he was along on one of our "jobs." And of course, it slipped our minds to tell him.

He was right behind us as we picked up our favorite boards and wandered over to a green chop wagon. (Green chop is just corn chopped up while it's still green. You cut just enough to feed the cattle for the day. The stuff is kinda sweet, so these wagons seemed to really draw the hornets.) While he watched in horror, we started beating on the framework. Didn't take long, and we were being swarmed.

One thing that I forgot to mention; his mother is deathly afraid of bees or hornets. She has passed this along. Heheh.

At first, he just stood there not moving. Smart, I guess. The hornets only seemed to be going after The Perfect One and myself. Then he let out a strangled shriek, and started swinging at them... bare handed. Now, he did manage to knock a few down, but the boy was in a panic and therefore forgot to stomp on them. So now the little bastards were really getting pissed!

I don't believe that he got stung, and I can't remember that The Perfect One got nailed, but I know I got it once. As soon as I yelled and started my nervous laughing, Cuz was gone. I mean, teleportation type gone! There one second screaming, nowhere to be seen the next. Very quick kid, my cousin.

We were aged 9-10 at the time. I think he's still a little scarred by growing up with us... whenever we mention that we should try something because it looks like fun, or we think up stupid things to do, he will have no part of it. Hell, it's not like we would really do it. We're older and wiser... kinda.

Anyway _Jon, you really missed out if you never smacked hornet nests with a short stick. Good times...good times.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:03 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

May 04, 2005

Hahaha! It's All Mine!

What a feeling of relief! I am now the sole owner of my car, "The Whipping Post." (Yes, I know I called it something else in Chicago.) Lately, I've taken a serious beating financially and mentally from my beloved POS. Of course, it's usually after I make certain types of jokes or comments that I end up paying. So no more pope or God jokes from me... at least not for a while. My personal sylphs or gnomes are not friendly.

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May 03, 2005

Bad News Monday

Yesterday started out ok. Sun shining as I drove to work, tunes blaring (Clutch: Elephant Riders), filled with happy thoughts about the White Sox, and their excellent April. (I'll post on that later.) I picked up breakfast, and arrived ten minutes early. Plenty of time to chow. I'm thinking this is going to be a great Monday.

Within a half hour, the sun is gone, but, hey, things are going well. No worries. And things were still going fine when I was finally able to peruse the morning paper. That's when my day totally turned to crap.

I ran across an article that just made me sick to my stomach. Eventually, I was pissed as hell. But for the first couple of hours, I was seriously fighting stomachus-eruptus.

What could affect me like that, you ask? To be truthful, there's probably many things. But the offending news of the day was this: Tina Fey has caught the preggers. What's so bad about that? IT. AIN'T. MINE!

And to top it off, she's married! Again, I realize that's still not a bad thing. BUT, she never told me... that's what's irked me. The whole time, I hadn't a clue.

I feel so used.

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April 28, 2005

Who'da Thunk?

Found this little quiz over at Bou's, and gave it a shot.

Your Taste in Music:

Heavy Metal: Highest Influence
Punk: Highest Influence
90's Alternative: High Influence
90's Rock: High Influence
80's Rock: Medium Influence
90's Pop: Medium Influence
80's Alternative: Low Influence
Adult Alternative: Low Influence
Classic Rock: Low Influence
Hair Bands: Low Influence
Old School Hip Hop: Low Influence
Progressive Rock: Low Influence
Ska: Low Influence

How's Your Taste in Music?


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April 27, 2005

Blinding Ourselves

Just read this piece by Bloodspite over at Techography. Good writing, and good point... check it out.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:46 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Chicago Meet

Late last month, I had the opportunity to meet some fellow bloggers... people who actually post with real live computers! More than likely, you've heard about it. If not, here's my true and accurate account. Remember, it was a month ago, so there is a chance, just a chance, that I may have a detail or two twisted. A very slight chance indeed.

I left straight from work, and arrived at Cafe Ba-ba Ree-ba in good time. Such good time that at first I thought that I was the first one to get there! I looked around a bit, and saw a man backed into a corner, growling and snapping at anyone who came within a 6 ft. circle of him. "Ah," said I, "that must be Laughing Wolf!"

I walked over and introduced myself, and held out my hand. He sniffed at it, then bit the hell out of it (really... I have a scar!) before giving me a firm handshake. We had a nice visit with no further oddities. Well, except for the few times he bared his teeth and snapped at me when I was reaching for an olive. Would have liked to visit with him a bit more, but by then the others started to arrive.

Next to arrive were Eric and Blackfive. Actually, Eric is the only one who walked right in... Matt stayed outside for a while. I think he was trying to psych himself up for the big meeting. Eric was awfully shy... couldn't hardly get him to say a word at first. The Wolf and I managed to get ahold of some skewers, and after a few good jabs, Eric finally started giving us one syllable answers. Still no Blackfive.

Waiting for Matt to make his entrance, I noticed two tall women come walking in together. Hotties they be! It was my blog sisters, Tammi and Teresa! However, it didn't take long, especially after Tammi pretended that she didn't know me, to see that these two aren't much for talking either. Actually, they seemed quite grouchy... I don't think Teresa smiled once all evening. Looked like the burden of carrying the conversation was being dropped on me.

Matt had shown up while we were all getting aquainted, but he was just as quiet as Eric... hell, at one point, I thought that they were trying to hide behind each other, but I may have been mistaken. While I was tying to get them to talk, in walked The Blog-Fadduh, and his lovely wife, TNT. She seemed to fit right in with Tammi and Teresa, but I'm pretty sure that she did smile once. I don't think the other two liked that very much.

Harvey was very intimidating... he stopped a few feet away from everyone else, then held out his hand. I looked at him, and asked, "WTF???" No sooner was the question out of my mouth, than I was being kicked in the satchel and, immediately after I hit the floor, face! His wife was screaming, "Kiss the ring, assholes!" Eric was unbelievably quick to respond... never have I seen someone move that fast! The others weren't far behind. The entire staff of the restaurant lined up, too! Rather impressive!

As the line to kiss Harvey's ring was dying down, I heard a voice saying to the hostess, "Hello, I'm Johnny Cash." It gave me a start a first, and then I remembered that it would be very unlikely to hear the original anymore. I turned around, and there was Graumagus; blog father, co-worker (ex), and Johnny Cash impersonator, decked out in all black. (But of course.)

The food was excellent, and after a couple of kegs, everyone started to lighten up a bit. Eric and Matt finally started talking, though most of that was mumbled threats about what they would do to Harvey if he tried to make them kiss his ring again. Teresa never did smile, but she didn't seem quite so grouchy. Tammi took one of the skewers that the Wolf and I had commandeered, and was playing fetch with him. Harvey and Grau carried on a long conversation, with TNT acting as Harvey's mouthpiece... I don't think I heard him actually talk. Only quiet whispers to TNT, who then relayed his words to the rest of us.

After.... OH, CRAP!!! I'm thinking that maybe it didn't go down this way at all! I can't remember for sure. Whether it did or not, it was still a great time! One of the best times I've had in a while. Most of you have already read the others' accounts, but for those that haven't, check these out:

Laughing Wolf
And Harvey's series: Matt O'Blackfive (Major league asskissery here... :) ), Laughing Wolf, Eric, Grau, and me

If you ever get the chance to go to a blogmeet, hop on it. I guarantee that it will be worth your while!

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April 26, 2005

An Ode

Not much to post tonight... worked too long today. But here's something that I wrote on a shop order after my computer blew itself up. Shows how I felt; in a couple different ways.

Friendships you have brought to me,
Unknowns you've revealed.
Crossed with me o'er most the globe,
Kept my thoughts concealed.

Insomnia, now my thorn,
Nights stretched since you've gone.
Gray of night is all I see,
Can't wait for the dawn.

Once holding things I held dear,
Memories now lost.
Photos, bits of music, too,
Untold hours you've cost.

The blinding flash that took you,
Ending your short life,
Ripped right through my sanity,
Sharper than a knife.


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April 25, 2005

Catching Up

Wow! It's good to be back home... but looking around, I'm seeing that there are a lot of things that have fallen behind. The Bad Example Blog Family has grown like frickin' crazy! Mating fools they are. Heheh! Must update.

I've also got to make a seperate listing for bloggers that have graced me with their presence, which should be done in a day or two. Just depends on time. I've been surfing like crazy the past two days! Anyway, while off, I had the privilege of meeting some very great people, and Harvey, too. So I'll tell you a little about that, also.

Picking up around the place is a must, as Eric, while not a total slob, has left White Castle wrappers all over the place. I've already taken the bean bag chair outside and hosed it off. The nasty part is that I didn't have to pick it up... it stuck to my frickin' leg!!! I'm praying like hell that it was just that beer that he spilled when he first started blogsitting... seems like years ago.

I do have to thank all of you who've been making regular stops. It's very much appreciated. Sorry I kept you hanging for so long.

Thanks to the two who took the reins for me, Harvey, and the afore mentioned beer spiller, for keeping this place from falling in... I owe you a few beverages! Of course, you're going to have to share. I ain't that nice and appreciative!

Also, big thanks and hugs to my two blogsisters, Tammi and Teresa, who made sure that I could get back online. Sanity has been restored to me, to be removed from you. Thank these two! They are just too cool!

So anyway, that's it for right now, as I'm going to go visit you. Maybe I'll have another post for you later. Peace out, peoples. V

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April 24, 2005

I'm Back

Hi, my name is T1G, and I'm back. Just lettin' you know. See ya all tommorrow.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:39 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

April 21, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 30

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

It's not easy being Wang's bitch, but at least you get to dress pretty.

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April 19, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 29

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

Forget about Godzilla - in Thailand, cities are frequently attacked by giant electric lobsters. RARRRR!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:41 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

April 16, 2005

A Feeling

I'm a little confused... this is a feeling that is a little foreign to me. Perhaps you could help me figure out what's going on with me.

It happens so easily, usually totally unexpected. In some cases a trip to the local tavern or pub increases the odds.

When it first occurs, you feel a warm sensation that just seems to spread throughout your being. The force with which this sensation comes over you varies... sometimes it strikes you with the power and impact of a waterfall. Other times, it begins with a trickle and ends in a torrent. And then there are times when the sensation is like a series of tentative caresses, then you are suddenly and totally engulfed... like being slowly lowered, and then dropped, into a warm, slowly moving river.

After a time, the warm feeling is gone, replaced by irritation... sometimes a major pain in the ass. Things tend to rub you the wrong way, and you are very easily chafed.

People start to notice that something is wrong, but you won't let anyone near you. There is no such thing as a "good mood" anymore.

Shame, no longer pride, is evident in your walk. You swear that others are talking behind your back... you are sure that you hear, "I told him that it was a bad idea," and "You can't force things to adapt to you, you've got to adapt to them. I told him that, but he wouldn't listen. Now look at him!"

You can't wait to be out of sight; to wash it all away in silence.

Did I just fall in and out of love?

Or did I just fill my shorts?

They sound pretty damn similar, don't they?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:58 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Some Questions, and Answers

I'm a little late with this, but at least it's something. Eric asked for victims volunteers to answer some questions, and I accepted. Here's a little more info about me, courtesy of the blogsitter, Eric.

1. ... during your recent computer problems, you chose two shady characters to guest post for you.. why on EARTH did you chose Eric and Harvey?.. surely you must have known that they'd be tearing the place apart... are you a glutton for punishment, or just a masochist?...

This is a good question, and I've been trying to figure out what exactly I was thinking when I asked these two to assist. I knew that there would be some snooping and prying about, but these two have been rooting around like hogs after truffles! Exposing secrets and such. Seriously, I asked Eric to help because I've enjoyed reading his blog, and I've often thought that he seems to be a hell of a lot like me... if I were to have a functioning brain. And Harvey? Who doesn't want Harvey on their blog? Actually, who's blog doesn't Harvey want to be on? I figured this would be another step, albeit a small one, in his quest to rule the Blogosphere. I'm truly suprised to see that none of the other bloggers at IMAO have suddenly ceased to be! Really, though he likes to be known as a Bad Example, he's a good egg. And a good old Blog Faddah. I really appreciate both of them taking time out to help. As for being a masochist? Only when the mood is right.

2. ... you have an unusual duality on your blog.. on one hand, you are bullied around your house by a mysterious squirrel.. and on the other hand, you are a former Marine who rides Harleys and chugs beer... what gives, man?.. are you one of those touchy-feelie Meterosexuals we've heard so much about?...

What the hell kinda question is this? Dude, if you only knew the whole story... Let me just say, any animal that steals and drinks beer is frightening, but to me, a squirrel is the utmost terror. A bit of advice: Never use large amounts of Acorn Cover Scent when hunting in areas that are loaded with squirrels. Especially not on
your pants. *shudder* You may never escape the nightmares. And NO, I am NOT a touchy-feelie meterosexual... *sniff* Damn you people and your teasing.

3.... what's the deal with Wang?...

I am not totally certain about Wang. Dude showed up one day, and he's been hanging about ever since. Said something about leaving a hottie from Peoria who was tearing him up. I don't know, truly. He seems to be opening up to Eric quite a bit, so I guess we're all in for an education.

4. ... who is more hot, and why?... Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady, Lee Marvin from Paint Your Wagon, or Jane Powell in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers?...

I realize that you are trying to stick with a "musical" theme, but if you had asked about Marvin in "Cat Ballou," this might have been a tighter contest. While a fine figure of a man, I just can't go with Lee on this one. And while Powell is a lovely, when you are pitting anyone against Audrey, she's usually going to walk away the victor. grrrrrrrrROOwllllll! Why? Another crazy question. How can you NOT go
with her? The woman was so incredibly hot!

5. ... ok.. enough of all that... time to redeem yourself, T1G... if you could get into a bar brawl with any three historical characters, who would they be, and why?...

I could load this up with Marines, but I'll keep it to one... Dan Daly. If you need to ask why after reading that link, please leave and don't come back. Hell, this is actually a tough question, in that the names are easy and many, but narrowing it down is something else. I'll just pop a couple more off. One is someone I read about long ago, but I've been impressed with him ever since; Simon Kenton. This guy was forced to run the gauntlet nine times! This guy never quit. I remember reading once that he was a rough, tough, and very homely man. And since this is a barroom brawl, might as well go with a pro. John Sullivan. Colorful character and another tough SOB.

I also wouldn't mind John Colter, Daniel Boone, Teddy Roosevelt... hell, this list could go on for a while.

Of course, if this question was meant as in getting into a fight
against three people, I would have to edit this list. I don't
mind a fight, but I'm not going to get my ass killed!

And just so you all know, I'm not back yet, but should be within the week... should.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:03 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


Just for my blog sis Bou, who seems to think I have a strong Wisconsin/Illinois accent.

Your Linguistic Profile:

65% General American English

15% Upper Midwestern

10% Yankee

5% Dixie

5% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Hehe... I'm normal. :) At least 65%.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:51 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

April 15, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 28

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

Thai girls like to give their breasts cute, rhyming names.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:08 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

April 13, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 27

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

Neo would've been a hell of a lot happier if he'd followed the black scorpion instead of the white rabbit.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:50 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

April 11, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 26

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

In Thailand, they understand that a sailor has his priorities.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:19 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

April 09, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 25

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

In Thailand, couples never fight about whether the toilet seat is up or down.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:36 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

April 07, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 24

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

A couple monks trying to raise money for the local Wang Scout troop.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:06 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

April 06, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 23

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

The Wangmobile

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April 04, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 22

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


wang hotel.jpg

Friends of Wang stay at the fabulous Porn Guest House.

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April 02, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 21

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

Introducing: THE WANGETTES!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:12 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 31, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 20

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

National pasttimes of Thailand include fire control and zebra hunting.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:47 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 29, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 19

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

Good things DO come in threes.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:37 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 28, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 18

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

Despite what they say on Trading Spaces, it IS possible to have too much brightly colored crap hanging in one room.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:58 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 26, 2005

Haloscan commenting and trackback have

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

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March 25, 2005

Haloscan commenting and trackback have

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:55 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 17

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

A few broken bottles set into the top of your concrete wall keeps the riff-raff out of your yard as effectively as barbed wire.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:50 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 24, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 16

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)


Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:32 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 22, 2005

Home Alone, Part VII...

... ok, children... settle down back there... the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated... the truth is, I just got out of the slammer this morning... unlike Tennessee's catch 'n release policy, Illinois has a Draconian 96 hour drunk-tank law... basically, that means that when a feisty copper gets his hands on your drunk ass, he locks you up in a pastel colored cell for the better part of a week... damn sadistic Yankees..

.. anyway, I am sure that you gentle readers have just been on pins and needles waiting to hear more about ole Wang.. Hell, Lord knows I have been wanting to tell you, but they wouldn't allow me access to a computer until they had verified my identity via Interpol...

... ahhh.. where to start?... firstly, let me just say that Wang is a helluva guy... I know what you are thinking, but looks can be deceiving... in my book, anyone who brings me White Castle and Scotch for breakfast is a stand-up guy... Hell, he didn't even want to join me for breakfast - the burgers and Scotch were ALL mine... that, ladies and gentlemen, is a trooper...

.. after I had scarfed down three burgers, Wang started gabbing 100 miles an hour... (see what I mean?.. what a helluva guy.. not interrupting a man's breakfast is one of the cardinal rules of politeness..)..

... in a frenzy, he began... "Where T1G at?... T1G my good, good friend... I need help in hurry.. you like burgers?.. I get you more burgers if you want"...

... "whoa there... calm down, little fella", I said as I took a slug of Scotch... "yeah, Wang... the burgers rocked... but I've had enough... so, what's up?... maybe I can help you"...

... "I need to get out town QUICK!.. police find me, I be big trouble!".. the poor guy... he was nearly in tears...

... but still, at this point, I began to re-think my newly found friendship with Wang...

... "hang on, Wang... you've got the cops looking for you?... what have you done, lil buddy?... Hellfire, you don't look like you'd hurt a fly"...

... "oh, Mr. Eric.. I have confession".. he bowed his head, and continued ..."I smuggler... I know it bad... but once upon a time, I was houseboy to S & M freak... I rather be smuggler... I have dignity in smuggle.... and people pay good price for my goods... oh, Mr. Eric, but I have to get stuff to fence by this afternoon.. if not, then he send big, scary Goons to break my knees... but truck broke down in downtown Stillman Valley.. I not know how to fix it."...

... sweet Lord, people... I was floored.. visions of thugs breaking down the door any minute started flashing through my mind.. I mean, the last thing you expect when you volunteer to house-sit for someone is to become embroiled in a suburban Illinois gangland smuggling ring... who knew that the Stillman Valley was such a hotbed of sin, vice, and intrigue?...

... steadying myself, I looked directly into Wang's tearful eyes..

... "ok, Wang.. spill it... I am willing to help you fix your truck- since you are a friend of T1G's - but I have to know what I am letting myself in for... come clean, little man... what do you smuggle?... drugs? white slaves? teenaged Korean hookers? what?.. if I am going to help, I have to know..."

... well, people.. Wang started to cry... blubbing all over T1G's kitchen table like a little girl... it was horrible, but I persisted... finally, Wang's wailing began to subside, and he started to speak...

... "I smuggle other stuff, Mr. Eric... I am so ashamed... I smuggle..".. Wang stopped for a moment, as if steadying his courage... "I smuggle loads of illegally imported wicker lawn furniture from California to Stillman Valley... I deliver them to Big Daddy McFangus, of McFangus Home Furnishings... he the head of the Stillman Valley's Lawn Furniture Cartel...


Posted by That 1 Guy at 01:34 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 15

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

Not only are Thai girls pretty, but - apparently - their asses are Irish.

Or so I assume from reading this one.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:25 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 20, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 14

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)



After Dorothy left Oz, the Scarecrow got tired of the Cowardly Lion waving his stupid "COURAGE" medal around all the time. During a particularly bad mood, the Scarecrow had the Lion frozen in carbonite and sold the "statue" to Wang.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:36 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 19, 2005


We got some new help in the shop Friday. All I can say is, "WOW!" She's kinda short, and a little round, but she's got all the necessary curves!

You could tell it was the first time in a factory, but she fit in right away. Real easy to get along with, and to get to know. I got to know her well. Very, VERY well! (wink, wink, nudge, nudge)

As a matter of fact, and I'm not one for braggin', I was the first one to get to use and abuse her! She suprised the hell out of me! And talk about suction... the dirtier things got, the more she sucked! The last one I had seemed to drop off when things got dirty.

I couldn't believe my luck... I never get anything that hasn't been used by everyone else in the shop! But I was this one's first. That damn shop vac is sweet!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:47 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 17, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 13

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

People the world over think that the Pink Panther is cool. Probably because he's always making a French guy look like an idiot.

Not that that's hard to do...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:26 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 15, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 12

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


Moderately not-work-safe image behind link

Foghorn Leghorn cuts loose when he parties in Pattaya.

NOTE TO T1G: Your blogsister Sally of Whimsy Capricious has been unable to comment here for some weird reason, but just wanted to let you know that she misses you and wishes you all the best.

Ain't she a sweetie?

Hard to believe she's MY blogdaughter, isn't it? :-)

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:36 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

A Question

Do you get choked up at the very end of "Dead Poets Society?"

You know, when they are all standing on their desks quoting Whitman, "O Captain, my captain"?

Or maybe it's just me. Tears me up. Pass me another tissue, Wang!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:08 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 14, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 11

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

Believe it or not, brothels aren't the ONLY places that are glad to see the US Navy hit port.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:51 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Greetings and Salutations From That 1 Guy!

Hey, All,

It's just me checking in. Let me say "hi" and thanks for continuing to stop by while I'm temporarily out of commission. I'd go into details, but I don't want to bore you with tales of misfortune. I can only say one thing while trying to put a positive spin on my situation: After this run of luck, Someone owes me big!

I will probably be out for a bit more, but as you can see, there's been plenty of excitement going on here... all my secrets have been revealed! Keep checking in. I'm sure things are going to get even more interesting! With these two keeping house for me, anything could happen! These guys have been too cool helping me out... or they've been having too much fun running wild through the blog!

One cool thing... I got to visit with a couple of the "Jawja" bloggers last night. Not in person. Just using up all of Eric's minutes! I told you it's been a bad run, so I haven't been in the best of moods, but after visiting with Velociman, Key, Catfish, Georgia (one of the commentors from Acidman's blog), and of course, my blogsitter, Eric himself, I was in a damn good mood! I'm not sure if any of them will remember speaking with me, as they were in the middle of some serious margarita killing (the deadly "pitcher" type!), but it was an enjoyable thing. Indeed! Good speaking with all of you!

Hope to be back in operation soon. I'll give you warning, and let you know that I may get a couple of posts in here or there, but they will be infrequent... my computer is no more.

You all take care!

That 1 Guy

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:10 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 13, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 10

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

The only thing more disturbing than "squid on a stick" is contemplating the reason why it's served with a side order of toilet paper, as seen in the upper right of the picture.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:33 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 11, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 9

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

So... when T1G claims he met his friend "Wang" at "Boys Town", he ain't talkin' about the one run by Father Flanagan.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:44 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Home Alone, Part VI

... yesterday morning, the phone rang and pried me from my slumber.. the guy on the other end sounded quite surprised when I answered...

.. "Where T1G?", he asked...

... "How the Hell should I know, man?.. he's out somewhere on a mission, or something... I'm Eric, and I'm taking care of his place till he gets back.. what do you want?"...

..."uhh.. ok.... uhh... I left stuff over there, and I wondering if I come by and pick it up."...

... still slightly groggy from a fitful night in the sack, I agreed... besides, being cooped up in this house all day with only T1G's journal to keep me entertained was getting old..

... "I don't care, man... c'mon over... ain't nobody here but us chickens... oh, wait... hey, if you don't mind, stop by a liquor store and grab a bottle of Scotch.. T1G's house is driazabone... oh, and maybe stop by a White Castle or something... I'll pay you for it when you get here."...

.. my new friend giggled, and said, ".. no worry, friend... you must be good, good buddy with T1G if he let you take care of house.. I be right over with Scotch and burger"...

... "Bitchin', dude, I'm starving"... and with that, I hung up...

... here is where it starts to get interesting, children...

... half an hour later, this gentleman showed up at the door with a bottle of Famous Grouse, a bag of mini-burgers, and a smile...


... "good morning... I T1G's friend, Wang"...


Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:50 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 10, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 8

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

In Thailand, the people are enslaved by cruel monkey overlords, and must surrender their barstools without argument lest they be horribly punished.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:58 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 09, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 7

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

The most popular TV show in Thailand? "Queer Eye for the Straight Birdhouse".

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:17 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 07, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 6

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

Peter-Peter's wife is STILL being kept - very well - in Thailand.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:26 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Home Alone, Part V

... I called the Bacon Whores this morning and asked for another visit from Tabitha.. man, what a let down... evidently the Management has been misinformed by the poor lass.. I mean, it was not MY journal on the pillow... anyway, they told me that the only "Bacon Whore" they had available was a former circus giant named Otto... so, I declined... but you know, these poptarts really aren't that bad if you crumble them up with your ramen noodles...

... oh, I finished the Schlitz too... without alcohol, I was doomed, so I began searching... but in a hip, Robert Frost kinda way.. you know, "as way leads on to way", and I found a bottle of vodka under the sink with the cleaning products... well, at least it tastes like vodka... as a result, I am feeling quite toasty up here in Illinois...

... anyway, I know you guys don't wanna hear that crap... so, on to the diary... I'm not really sure I should be telling you this... after all, this IS T1G's journal - a collection of his most intimate and private thoughts... but I'm getting a serious case of the willies here, and I need to share.. after all, y'all know how incredibly sensitive I am... The Phantom of the Opera is blaring through in the living room, and I am almost too scared to write this - even after a few stiff ones... mood music, indeed... reading his scribblings along side of the insane organ playing... it's bad, children... bad...

... ahhh... I'd better get to it before I lose my nerve... here, gentle readers, is a small sample of the Hell that I am in right now...

"Today started normally. I rode my Harley into town, and the sun was shining gloriously. I really like my new helmet, too. It is just SO damn shiny!. I saw Mary again, as well. She helped me find that perfumed body lotion that I enjoy so much. The stuff they sell at Bath and Body Works just RAWKS, and I LOVE the smell of roasted pumpkin!

Later, after I parked The Hog my Baby, and waved to Mrs. Jenkins across the road, (you should ALWAYS be nice to old ladies) I wandered through to the back yard to watch MR. and MRS. Squirrel collect nuts. I do so love to see them thriving. Illinois is a bitter, bitter land.

Once inside, I started reading a few blogs. Harvey is THE MAN. But of course, dear diary, you already KNOW that! And then, I came to Eric's Blog Noir post. Well, I very nearly fainted from the rush of blood away from my brain! I mean, I am not exactly hung like a MOOSE, but still! *WHEW*. I need a cold shower, and a stiff drink.

More laterrrrrr, Diary! The night is young, and I am only half-way finished with Amelia and the Outlaw. Since Eric has gotten me all stirred up, I think it is time to DELVE!

... bear witness, rubberneckers.... IAMINHELL!!!!.. T1G... dammit, please... PLEASE.. come back SOON!!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:11 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Home Alone, Part IV...

... you guys have no idea how much I like bacon... seriously.. those Bacon Whores rock... bacon and Schlitz, children, the ultimate comfort food..

.. anyway, sorry about the silence... the truth be known, I have been totally without words.. see, I had finally managed (after her 14th visit) to get Tabitha the Bacon Whore to let me show her around T1G's pad... I know, I know, trying to get into a "Bacon Whore's" pants might seem beneath me, but listen... she was every man's dream... gorgeous brown hair.. blue eyes... ubersexy short-shorts... tight tee-shirt... AND she knows how to cook the bejesus outta some bacon... I simply could not resist..

... well, as luck would have it, the first thing she noticed when I finally got her into T1G's bedroom was a dainty little flower-covered book resting on one of the pillows... I hadn't seen it before since I nearly always pass out fall gently asleep on the beanbags... but, there it was.. T1G's diary...

... as I was busting my move, Tabitha picked it up the diary, let out a soft *sigh*, cooed "This is soooo cute!", and read the inscription....

Dear Boobie, may this journal be your safe place, your refuge. The times we have spent riding hogs together are so very, very dear to me. You simply have no idea.

Write, dear friend, write whatever your beautiful heart desires. After all, our desires are what define us.

Your faithful, hog riding pal,


... needless to say, the bleeding has mostly stopped now... I had no idea that the binding of a book could do so much damage when flung with purpose.. Lord knows, my eyebrow will never be the same... evidently, people in Illinois have multiple definitions of "hog riding".. well, at least Tabitha did...

... anyway, I have spent the last day or so wading through T1G's diary... mercy... the guy we have all come to know and love has some issues, people...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:54 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 06, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 5

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

These people take their tree-decorating seriously.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:23 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 05, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 4

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

Life is always better when the beer you're drinking comes in huge-ass bottles.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:20 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 03, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 3

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

It's 106 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark and we're wearing sunglasses.

Ok, 10,106 miles to Chicago, but still... ain't this freakin' cool?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:28 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Home Alone, Part III...

.. well, well, well, rubberneckers... you guys will NEVER guess who was at the door... heh... it seems that someone had heard the news of my trials here in this gastronomic desert, and made a few phonecalls... mmmmmmmmm... cute women cooking bacon for me bacon... I think I could get used to this...

.. more later, I gotta clean the drool grease off of my chin...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:28 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 2

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)


(click to enlarge)

No matter where you go in this big, wide world, the response to "Hey, baby, what's your sign?" is universal.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:00 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 02, 2005

Home Alone, Part II

... children, I have news....I passed out fell asleep on one of the beanbag chairs last night.. it was pure weakness on my part, and I caved... still, a man can only watch Seven Brides for Seven Brothers so many times before Schlitz's start getting shotgunned and chased with nyquil... sorry, folks.. .it is true... T1G is too cheap to buy cable television...

.. just between us, I'm not sure how much longer I can hang in the Drunken Wisdom crib... I mean, check this out... I stumbled through to the kitchen this morning to grub some breakfast, and the first cabinet I opened was stacked - top to bottom - with ramen noodles, tins of tuna (non-dolphin friendly brands too, the bastard), and poptarts... heh.. it is all becoming clear... T1G seems to be trapped in some sort of barracks syndrome... it kinda explains why this place is inspection ready all the time... either that, or he just eats out a lot...

.. anyway, with no cable, it looks like oogling Audrey Hepburn tonight.. just you wait 'enry 'iggins, just you wait!... sheesh... it was bad enough waking up with a hangover, having a tuna'n'mustard-coated chocolate poptart for breakfast, and "Bless your Beautiful Hide" in my head all day... I can not wait to see what tomorrow brings.. boy, the things we endure for our friends...

... uh oh... more later, someone is at the door...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:02 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 01, 2005

Things I Learned While I Was on Liberty in Pattaya Beach, Thailand, and Really, Really Drunk - Part 1

(A Guest Post by Harvey of Bad Example)

Since T1G is technologically disabled, he asked both Straight White Eric and I if we could toss up a few little somethings to keep his site alive while he's down.

Eric's already done his part, so now it's my turn. After all, T1G *is* my beloved blogson.

So here's what I'm thinkin'... I figure one of these days I'm gonna meet T1G face-to-face, and - since we're both veterans - I'll be sharing some of my sea stories.

Which he won't believe, because, well, they're SEA STORIES.

But I've got pictures. And I'm going to dole them out a bit at a time until he comes back.

Now, some of these are a bit... spicy... so if anyone thinks they're inappropriate to the site, just holler and I'll put them behind a link instead of out in the open:


(click to enlarge)

"Batman" was not only a popular movie in America, it also has a popular following half-way around the globe.

Or at least half-way up this young lady's right thigh.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:28 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

.. Home Alone, Part I...

... you know, now that I have started looking around, this is a pretty nice place... I've just been hanging out and drinking some beer - trying to soak all of this in... you never really know a blogger until you spend some quality time alone in their house...

... one thing definitely comes across about T1G... this place is CLEAN.. I mean spik and span, people.... really.... it's hard to believe that a bachelor like him could keep a house so tidy... it's almost creepy.. no crumbs on the floor.. no dirty laundry piled up... no garbage cans filled with old vodka bottles... Hell, the drapes actually match the carpet... something is definitely going on here...

... the beanbag furniture is a nice touch though... I had honestly forgotten how comfortable they were.... I bet he really gives e-Bay a workout... there is always a downside though... all he had in the fridge was a case of Schlitz, so I am being forced to make due... having a large Scotch and water while kicking it on this beanbag would have rocked...

... I think I'll watch some television... I sure hope he has cable because I checked out his video collection earlier... I'm not one to kiss and tell, so I won't go into great detail, but how a man that big, who rides a Harley, and is a former Marine can collect that many musicals just boggles my mind... I mean, sure.. I can understand having one or two in your collection, but damn, T1G...

... more later, I just spilled my Schlitz... man, one thing about beanbags that I had forgotten... they may be comfy, but they are NOT absorbent...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:40 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Screamin' Meme...

... I've spent the last little bit perusing T1G's blogroll... damn, children.... some of you guys are totally nuts... anyway, I just found this little thinggy over at Refractional Dark... and I thought I'd give it a whirl...

... the rule is, if the line is in BOLD, that means I have NOT done it...

I've never kissed a member of the opposite sex
I've never kissed a member of the same sex
I've never crashed a friend’s car
I've never been to japan
I've never been in a taxi
I've never been in love
I've never had sex in a public place
I've never been dumped (oh, yeah)
I've never done cocaine (only once)
I've never shoplifted
I've never been fired
I've never been in a fist fight (you are kidding, right?)

I've never had group intercourse
I've never snuck out of my parent’s house
I've never been tied up
I've never regretted having sex with someone
I've never been arrested
I've never made out with a stranger
I've never stolen something from my job (just paperclips and pens)
I've never celebrated new years in time square
I've never gone on a blind date
I've never lied to a friend (not that I can recall, anyway)
I've never had a crush on a teacher or professor
I've never celebrated mardi gras in New Orleans
I've never been to Europe
I've never skipped school
I've never slept with a co-worker
I've never cut myself on purpose
I've never had sex at the office

I've never been married
I've never been divorced
I've never had sex with more than one person within the same week
I've never posed nude
I've never gotten someone drunk just to have sex with them
I've never killed anyone
I've never received scars from my sex partner
I've never thrown up in a bar
I've never taken a hallucinogenic drug
I've never purposely set a part of myself on fire
I've never eaten sushi
I've never been snowboarding
I've never had sex at a friend’s house while they were throwing a party
I've never had sex in a dressing room
I've never flashed anyone
I've never met anyone from online

.. damn, there sure were a lot of sex questions...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:58 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


... good morning, rubberneckers... my name is Eric, and I have been asked to drive the Drunken Wisdom bus for a while.. fellow Jarhead, T1G is currently incommunicado... heh... so you are stuck with me... never fear though, I promise not to break anything... spillage may occur, yeah.. but no breakage...

.. sit back, and chill... I have no idea what you children like, but I'll give it a shot.. .

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:05 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

February 25, 2005

Hip Hop, Belly Flop

A couple of days ago, Dash had a post up that he says is video of him dancing. Cracked me up!

Today I got to witness a milder version of it. Dash's entry was the first thing I thought of when I saw this rather large man start bobbing his head. (There was no music.) Then he started doing some weird dance stepping side to side, rolling his gut in and out.

At first, I thought he was unaware of anyone seeing him. But as I watched and laughed, I noticed the woman working with him laughing her ass off! He just kept dancing and smiling! Killed me! But it wasn't near as good as the video at Dash's.

For those that haven't seen it, or didn't click on the link above, here is the video. Enjoy!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:16 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

How To Stay Single: Quick Advice

Today I got the fifth degree from a woman at work, wanting to know about my dating life, or lack of one. She just kept going on, and on, and on ... All in good humor. She just likes to harass me. She had been trying to get me to go out with her daughter, but I wasn't really that interested. So now she just keeps on.

Today, I gave her an explanation of why it's been so long. (It's been three years, for those that just have to know!) I'm a little overly cautious!

(An Aside) I've never been one to believe in sex early in a relationship. I think you need to get to know someone well before you take that step. It's a matter of self preservation, really. You have to know how they will react to a possible breakup. (I still can't believe this dude was stupid enough to agree to sex after a quarrel, and to allow his hands to be tied.)

Some women can be downright shady. Although this just sounded a little too weird. A gift. Heh.

Anyway, here's a couple things that I jokingly told her have worked for me. And guys, if you want to stay single, listen up.

1. Always be oblivious to interest from the finer sex. If not naturally ignorant, like myself, act dumb as hell when it comes to their lures. Pretty self explanatory. Even for me.

2. If one of them makes it past your "oblivious shield," make sure that you plan your dating out correctly.

Never start dating just before, or during, hunting season. There goes that peace and quiet!

Also, keep in mind Christmas, Valentine's Day, Sweetest Day, and her birthday. Wait until after one of these events to start your courtship, unless you want to toss away money needlessly.

Make yourself aware of St. Pat's Day unless you feel that she'll like the idea of you hurling on her shoes.

Easter... bad. You'll be forced to church, where, if you're like me, you will be struck by lightning.

Mother's Day timeframe may not be so good either, if you're not fond of watching family squabbles. Ditto, Dad's day. Although, that could come with a shotgun in your direction. Be careful.

During summer weather, keep in mind you'll be asked (told) to do "stuff." Waste of time stuff, like picnics, and walks in the park, and other nonsense.

About the best time to start dating, is early August. By then it's too hot for the outside stuff, so you can sit in the air conditioning at the movies, or her your favorite drinking establishment.

But again, be mindful of Labor Day. You may have to drag her around as you hit all the good parties.

3. Remember, THEY CAN'T GO OUT WITH YOU IF YOU NEVER ASK! As I explained all of my bull, she interrupted me and told me it was my fault that I had not been dating. "How so?," I ask. She was confident that there were women around that were interested. Had I ever bothered to ask? I told her, "Nope." And she replied with my bit of underlined advice. I explained that I patiently wait for a woman to tell me that she would go out with me if I asked. Then I'll ask. Safer that way!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:03 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

February 24, 2005

Hating Myself Right Now

There is an elderly woman here in town that I just can not stand. She bugs the hell out of me. Why? I've no idea.

It's not that she's a bad woman. She always is baking and bringing cookies and cakes to people. A very religious woman. Always wants to help, but rarely can. Greets everyone by name, and if not with a hug, a huge grin. Hell, I usually love people like this! It's because of these things, that I feel like a shithead for not being able to stand her.

She had to move about a month ago, and since she needed some help, I helped out. (I'm a good neighbour, dammit!!!) It worked out great... I never had to deal with her.

A whole lifetime of memories, and things representing them, had to be moved in one afternoon. I got there after helping my cousin move in the morning, so by the time I arrived, they were roughly half done. That's still a long way to go.

The basement of the new house was crammed with her stuff, and we had at least seven pickup loads to put down there. I started looking around with a friend, and we noticed that her earlier help had just thrown things in, with no regard to packing, stacking, shelving, or utility access. You couldn't get to the water main or the breaker box. I decided to tackle the task of reorganizing while packing away the newly arriving stuff.

I was down there for hours. All by myself, except for my beer(s). I loved it. Truly. By the time I was done, everything was packed away and stacked nice and orderly. I felt pretty damn good! And, I felt good about not having to deal with her!

Why tell you that? Maybe so that I don't feel so bad... you know, make myself sound like a good guy. And because now I really feel like a heel.

Last night I ran into the bar for chow and a beer, and she was in there. She hands me a small envelope and smiles, says, "Sorry I'm late." WTF!!! (No I didn't actually say that!)

It was a handmade Thank You note signed by her and her family.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:28 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

February 23, 2005

Having A Nice Day?

It was a great day from the get go.

I get up in plenty of time to get ready for work, and then sit down to check e-mail. Not smart enough to check the computer clock, I watch the one on the wall. The one with the dying battery. After a bit, I start thinking that I've been awake for an awful long time now, and I should be about ready to leave. I realize that the clock is an hour and then some behind. Then I check my computer clock... I should have left 14 minutes ago!

I rush out the door making sure to lock it before I step out. About the time it latches, I realize that my housekeys are sitting by my computer! #%&$!!! Okay, no biggy. I've got an extra set of car keys. I'll break into the house when I get home.

Running late like I was, I couldn't grab my usual breakfast sandwich. Hell, the buzzer was going off as I got out of my car! Thankfully, the clocks at work are off, too... but in our favor. Made it with seconds to spare.

Get to my work area to see that my night guy (really my day guy) left me in a bad way. I know that it was unintentional, but still...

Grinding tooling, I run the side of my finger into the grinding wheel. My cat-like reflexes save the day! No blood, just a little meat is gone. Makes great entertainment later in the day. Dirt will not stick to the ground off spot, so my hands are filthy except for a little white patch on the side of my finger.

I ask permission from the boss to run up to the lunchroom to grab something to eat. No prob, until I get up there. No good sandwiches. Nothing appealing. There are some Pop Tarts, but I don't really feel in the mood for cherry. Rather have chocolate chip Pop Tarts. Pretty good for what they are. Finally I decide that it's better than nothing, and buy the cherry tarts. Guess what's right behind them? Yeah. Chocolate chip. I felt like the whole day was going to be a series of incidents like this... nothing going right.

I just started laughing. Frustrated laughing, yes, but I couldn't help it. Felt like a fool.

But you know what? The rest of the day just seemed to come around. Maybe the laugh helped, maybe I lost my mind, and now I just think it's okay. Maybe fate just decided that I should only suffer for a short period of time. I like to think it was the laugh.

So how's your #%&$in' day going?!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:38 PM | Comments (0)

February 22, 2005

Hail To The Kings Losers

The fight for first place was tonight in our basketball league.

We had started out the first part of the season at .500, but in the second half, we came on strong. Lost only one game. Tonight was our final game, and as luck had it, it ended up being a critical one.

To say we got ourselves killed is going easy on us. Couldn't get any shots to sink... they rolled and bounced anywhere but through the net. Seemed the other team couldn't miss. At the final buzzer, they tossed up a half court shot, and of course it went in. I've gotta say, all I could do was laugh and admire they way they played.

I did get a couple of good fouls in, though! You've got to educate them when they try to drive on you! At least I didn't drop my shoulder on anyone this week. Heh.

To echo Cubs fans everywhere, "Wait 'til next year!"

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:58 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

How A Marine Is Seen

If you are one that hasn't visited my brother Marine, Eric of Straight White Guy, head on over and check out this post.

It's an e-mail that he's posted. While some of it is funny, it makes a Marine's chest swell with pride. Especially the last part. I've always been proud of my country, but I've got to say, that since I was a Marine, there hasn't been a singing of the National Anthem where I didn't get watery eyes. (Including Sarahk's rendition.) But watching the Marine Silent Drill Team... it's damn powerful. I have gotten to see them live once, and on television twice. I don't say a word watching them. After a bit, you can't hardly see them, what with the dust specks getting in your eyes.

If you've never seen them, and you get the chance, do it. You'll never forget it. If you've seen them, you know what I'm talking about. Gets to you doesn't it?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:32 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

February 21, 2005

Handy Tabasco Tip #28,367

Intoxicated or not, do NOT ever rub your eyes after eating food covered in Tabasco! It's awfully hard to drive home when you can't even see the frickin' road!

Maybe I shall publish a safety book. What are your Tabasco tips?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:11 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

February 20, 2005


I was talking on the phone today to Tammi, when my phone died. Since it's only me in this house, I have only one phone. Thankfully, I have a speaker phone, so when she called back I used the base.

Talk about weird. I discovered that I have a few habits that were worse than I ever thought.

My cousin and I have joked about me pacing when I'm on the phone. He does it, too. I never realized how bad I did it until the handset was no longer available. Standing in one spot just felt too weird. I caught myself fidgeting like crazy!

I also caught myself flinging my hands all over as I was talking. I don't know if it was because I was free of the phone, or what. I do know that I've never used my hands much while speaking. So I thought. Now I know I'm way wrong! I could have put out an eye!!!

And one final habit that isn't a bad one, I just wasn't so aware of it. Without the phone in hand, it felt like a regular conversation. So I was going nuts because there was no eye contact. It just felt strange. Hopefully, I didn't seem rude while I'm pondered these things!

Do you have any strange habits that you do while on the phone? Keep it clean, people! Ah nevermind! :)

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:28 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Help From The Rev.

The Rev. Lick posts his advice for straightening out a wearer of orange pants.

Careful if you explore over there... there's some bare flesh layin' about!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:37 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

February 19, 2005

Giddy Over ED

That would be ED, as in "Evil Dead."

Okay, before anything else, read this.

Keeping that in mind, I still have to say that I'm starting to get a little happy about the chances of another "Evil Dead" movie. Sam Raimi says, "Yes." At least in that article.

The "Evil Dead" films are some of my favorites. In large part to Bruce Campbell. I personally think he's one of the most under-rated actors out there. But then again, I'm a fan, and I'm biased.

Any other Bruce Campbell fans out there looking forward to seeing what comes about? And remember, BRUCE, not Glen.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:58 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Good Night

This a story that I found while deleting a bunch of files. I thought you might get a chuckle out of this, and since I'm not going to be around much today, I figured to post it.

03:00 Sunday parking lot

The bar had been closed for half an hour. The last bikes had roared off and disappeared into the night, along with most of the cop cars that had lain in wait. Only one of the original squads that had been positioned outside of the bar remained in the area. Somewhere. The other two had quickly vanished after, in their haste to bust someone, they had pulled over one of the party goers that hadn't a drop to drink.

Night sounds were returning to normal, when the sound of quiet laughing and swearing filled the air. Four men, three of them with long goatees, came walking around the corner, heading for the parking lot. Maybe intimidating at first glance, (they were all over six ft. tall) after a second look, one would see that these guys were friendly. The insults about each other's lineage and intelligence were all in fun. Many were met with suggestions that the insulter do some type of activity that was physically impossible.

The tallest one kept saying over and over, "My mom sa, my, my, my mom said," referring to earlier in the evening. He had taken a pair of Harry Potter-ish glasses that made his eyes look HUGE, and started talking like a nervous nerd. Telling those that gathered around about how his mom said to stay away from dirty girls, but she wanted him to play with nice girls like the uncommonly hot bartender. The ladies would pull on his beard, and he would shriek some more about how he was supposed to stay away from them. The ladies loved it, and the guys had tears in their eyes from laughing so hard. Anyway, back to the parking lot.

Shorty kept up his stuttering while the other three walked over to their bikes. It was damn cold, and they were all a little nervous about the bikes getting started. They had been sitting there for almost 12 hours. Engine work tends to make bikes start a little rougher in the cold, and all of them had had work done.

The Slobb starts his bike first... no problem. His brother Clean Face starts his... a little rough, but she runs good. Alphabet fires his up with no problem at all. Now Shorty tries.... no go. Tries again ... no go. Slobb starts bitching about his friends having junky bikes and how he's always got to fix them. Shorty tries once more, and this time it's clear that his battery just isn't going to let him get it going. The others shut their bikes off, while they belittle Shorty and his bike, trying to decide what to do. They decide to pop start it; push it, and pop the clutch. Should work, they reason.

On the first attempt, Shorty's bike is in too low of a gear .... when he pops the clutch, Clean Face and Slobb go flying past the bike and hit the pavement. Cursing and laughing ensues. Shorty is called most anything but his real name at this point.

On the second attempt, it pops off. Shorty gives it a couple of good cracks on the throttle and then turns and yells, "My Mom says ..." just as the bike dies. He stops in mid sentence, staring at his bike, and then mumbles, "well f#*k." To which Alphabet asks, "Does she really say that?" before tearing into him about letting the bike die. Clean Face and Slobb just stand there, shaking their heads and smiling. They decide that the best thing to do is to try pushing it down the street.

After more friendly comments about the bike and it's rider, the other three begin pushing Shorty down the street. Each time they yell "pop 'er now!," the engine coughs and stops. This is done for almost three blocks before they decide that if they push any farther, they may as well just push Shorty all the way home. It's decided that instead of leaving the bike there on the street, they would try to start it some more while pushing it back to the parking lot.

It's a moonless night, and the streetlights are spaced far apart on this little street. Just a block away, all you can see is the shape of four men standing around something. Now there's just three men. Slobb is off on the side of the road, out of sight, talking to his girlfriend on his cellphone. Before she left the party, she tugged on his ponytail, and Slobb, being used to having it pulled all the time, just ignored it. Now she is asking why he's mad at her, and why didn't he turn around when she was leaving, and why .... we all get the picture. Of course, there is no right answer or safe explanation, even though he knows he's done nothing wrong.

Wait, now there are only two shadows standing around what looks to be a motorcycle. Clean Face has broken off to the other side of the street. Before leaving the bar, the uncommonly hot bartender set a bottle of beer on the bar and asked if someone would chug it. It had been opened for someone and iced, never to be claimed. Clean Face, not one to let such a beverage go to waste, slammed down the beer for her. Now he is threatening to lose it, if he has to push anymore.

With Slobb still trying to talk to his girl, the other three give it another try. Now Alphabet is riding... they've figured out that Shorty can push his own bike, even if one of the others has to help. As the clutch gets popped, Clean Face once again hits pavement, but this time he just lays there. Alphabet and Shorty voice their concern, although it's veiled. Turns out that Clean Face is alright, he's just fighting off the urge to blow chow. The other two are thoroughly disgusted by this, so Clean Face, who thinks losing lunch is funny even if it's you that's doing it, runs over to the side of the street again, and lets go, talking and making jokes between each wretch. Slobb is too far away to hear any of this, but the other two start talking about how nice the sky looks and "damn, are you done yet." Clean Face, feeling renewed, heads back to the bike, only to take a bunch of crap about how nasty that was. They give him a load about not holding his drink, but he explains that when he drinks, it's to relax, not to prepare to run wind sprints. More laughter.

Now Slobb reappears just in time for all of them to see the missing squad car coming down the street. No one moves anywhere. They are just resigned to their fates. And as they start joking to each other, what can they get in trouble for besides being intoxicated in public? Drunken pushing? The cop stops and just sits for almost a full thirty seconds, then turns away. Ah, the old motto proves true again; Safety In Numbers!

After the cop left, they hurriedly get the bike back to the bar parking lot where three of them sprawl on the cold pavement. Shorty stands over his bike cussing, while the others try to cool down. They are like this when the bar owner finds them. She pulls into the lot thinking that there are bodies in the lot, when they all sit up.

After getting over the initial shock, she calls her husband, who shows up with jumper cables. The bike is started, along with their good humor. "My mom said, my, my, my mom said...," is heard more than once. More cursing of ancestors and name calling.

After the bikes are warmed up, we they ride off, each thinking to themselves, "Damn, this was a good night!"

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:00 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

February 18, 2005

Gripe Day

You ever spend a lot of time on a project, finally complete it, and then a few days later, been told that it was for nothing? That you needed to do the whole thing over?

I take a lot of pride in the quality of work that I put out. I take a little longer to get it set up, but when it runs, I know that they are going to be good parts. Most times, I know that the setup is going to run some damn good parts. Checking tolerances is a security, not a necessity for most of my setups. I'm not bragging. Just sayin'.

I spent almost a week on a setup, and that's between the two of us on the machine, replaced tooling, and re-did the setup. Ran the order out. All along, checking parts. Good.

Say it ain't so, Joe, but they aren't good. Whole order scrapped out. Grrrrrr. Going to get it back today. Been stewing about it all night. My personal pride has taken a hit. Hopefully we can get this running today. Hopefully.

So how about you? Got any gripes? C'mon... share in my misery!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:16 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

February 16, 2005

Got Advice?

This is for everyone, but especially the ladies. I think you may be of invaluable service here.

You see a woman wearing... oh, let's say... orange polyester slacks. Very unflattering. How does one go about letting her know that she really shouldn't wear them... ever again?

And don't take me for stupid, and tell me to" ask her if her grandmother had left her those pants in her will."

It didn't work so well the first time.

*replaces raw steak on swollen eye*

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:56 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

February 15, 2005

Good Tunes Equals Link

Yeah, I know that A Small Victory is a bigger blog. I've visited a few times, and love the fact that Michele not only has some good posts, but she posts some great tunes. The other day I'm over there, and I finally realize that she's got a line from "A Shogun Named Marcus" in the window title (or whatever it's called): Check it out I'm like a buzzbomb! Clutch?!?! Now I have to blogroll her! But out of respect for Velociman, I shall link her as Victory, Small Qty:1.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:44 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Gordon And Susan....

Today I hate you. I walk into work, and for the next seven hours, I have one song pop into my head and stay there. Do you wanna know what is was? I'll tell you anyway. One of these things. Yep. A damn Sesame Street song. Now, I enjoy planting the theme song as an earworm, but this was hell!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:09 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

February 14, 2005

Gettin' Together with the "Slu Cru"

Well, as is obvious, I didn't go to the Reunion held this weekend. I had a prior commitment which I had forgotten about. I've got to do something about this great memory of mine. Anyway, though I really missed the opportunity to meet the family and their guests, I'm glad I stayed here.

Many moons ago, a group of six men bought a piece of land along a river. It was surrounded by hunting clubs, essentially in the middle of nowhere. My uncle was one of the buyers. His fellow co-owners were almost all prior servicemen now working for the same company. A tight-knit group. They built some buildings, and it became their hunting shack.

As the years went by, the county bought up the hunting clubs, leaving their land surrounded by forest preserve. It is their slice of heaven. Many deer, and a few turkeys are harvested each year, along with the murder of many innocent beers, and the consumption of a concoction reverently referred to as "moose juice." (A 50/50 mix of Christian Brothers Brandy and Peppermint Schnapps.)

The actual group of those allowed to hunt is small, and limited to the six and their families, and a couple of adoptees, one known as "The Hippie."

My uncle has four sons, but none share any of his interest in hunting. There are three guys in my family, and while not huge hunters all, we do like to get out in the woods. He loves when we come over so that he can show us his new equipment, or tell us about how he's shooting trap or bow. He's been telling us about the cabin, and an annual party (an all day.... and night, affair) that they always throw in February for years. Of course, he always told us about it after the party happened.

Last year I promised that I would make it this year. I forgot. How I remembered is another story, but I was reminded in time. Again, I'm glad.

My uncle has been telling these guys about us, and they were looking forward to meeting us. Both "The Hippie" (who I occasionally drink with) and my uncle had been telling us that they were actually excited about it. I wondered how exaggerated this was.

We arrived at the slough, only to discover that it was under water, and the party had been moved to one of the landowner's trap range. The hunting cabin itself was high and dry, but to get to it meant going through almost 3ft. of water. No problem like this at the trap range.

It was located on top of a hill, one of the highest around, and the view was incredible. There was a thirty acre stand of woods almost next to the clubhouse, and some small target shooting going on in there. One of the trap houses was operating, and guys were out powdering the clays. Mostly, guys were standing all around just talking, having a good time.

Walking into the clubhouse, there was a dice game going on, a pool table, and a furious game of poker being played. "The Hippie" was sitting there when my cousin and I walked in, and he proudly announced that he was in the clock cleaning business. The he proceeded to introduce us to those at the table. None were of the original six.

Going to get some food, I discovered that the description of them being excited was no exaggeration. My uncle met us, and told us that we needed to get our buttons. Since this was the first time out there, our buttons were emblazoned with "Cherry." Then he started the intros, but he's a pretty popular one, and he didn't get too far before he got sidetracked.

My boss is one of the six's sons. He had come in the door, so I introduced my cousin, and he introduced us to his dad. He introduced me as working with him, and then intro'd my cousin, who his father happened to recognize the name. They got to talking for a bit, and then the boss' dad looks around and asks where the hell *my uncle*'s nephew Joe is at.

He had shaken my hand before, but when he realized that I was the one he was looking for, he grabbed my hand again, in such a grip that I thought he was going to break my fingers! He had this big grin going ear to ear, and off we went to meet the other two of the six that were present. But not until we had a slug of "moose juice." Excited? No exaggeration at all!!!

I ended up visiting with those guys quite a bit, as well as many others. I listened to them giving each other crap about the shooting contest (which I was too late for) that they had earlier in the day. I listened to them hootin' and hollerin' and just having a good old time.

When it got dark, and they all moved inside, I made quite a few trips outside. Not a crowd person am I. But I couldn't help but grin listening to them. A yell would go up every time a good roll of the dice happened. A burst of name calling whenever someone successfully bluffed. Just guys acting like guys.

To try and describe this and make it sound like fun to someone, just doesn't work. Those that have been to something similar will know that it is an incredibly good time. But the best way that I can think of to describe it, is a phrase from a Harley shirt: If I Have To Explain, You Wouldn't Understand.

My cousin came up with one better when his wife told him she didn't see what fun it could be. He told her, "You remember what it's like to be a kid? How they can play forever in a tree fort, or playhouse? These are bigger kids, with bigger toys."

I can't wait to play next year.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:58 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Greetings On Singles Awareness Day!

Just wanted to wish you singles a great one on this overhyped day!

And to all you couples, may you and yours make your dreams come to realization!

Have a good VD all! Heh.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:47 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

February 13, 2005

Gotta Get To The Next One

So, unless you read only my blog, you've got to know that the Bad Example Family Reunion is about to wind down. Sounds like this was a great time! I wish I was able to go, but due to a memory lapse, I wasn't able. So basically I just kept checking their blogs. I noticed that I wasn't the only one, as Michele seemed to be in the comments, also. If she felt like I did, she was feeling bummed, but happy for them all.

But I did get to talk to a bunch of them today. Most for the first time. Talk about cool. No, make that awesome! Got to talk to Bou, Harvey, Johnny-Oh, _Jon, Teresa, and of course, the hostess herself, Tammi. Unfortunately, I missed Lee Ann, FrankJ, and (I have to say I'm totally distraught... hey, she'll shake her fist at me) SarahK.

All were what I expected, and then some. Hell, Harvey called me a dumbass right away. You gotta love that!* It was a great pleasure speaking with all of you, and I'm looking forward to meeting you all. I've already got an idea for the next one. Hopefully the connections are still in place. You'll find out later if you don't already know.

I'm incredibly jealous. But there will be a next time. Tammi said so.

*Call me a dumbass if you wish, but use the proper tone of voice. Wrong tone results in a ticket for the full length feature, "The Back Of Your Eyelids."

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:16 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Gushing With Love; Since 1967

The Feisty One, the lovely Christina, has specifically called out Acidman, Eric, Zonker, the Llama Butchers, and me to give her a male perspective to her "Don't Say A Word" post. I'll give it a shot, but I've gotta warn you, my expertise is very limited. Very.

If you haven't bothered to read her post.... Let me first say; Shame on you! Read it! But if you still insist on ignoring it, what she's talking about is communicating feelings without speech.

A touch. A look. A feeling. And along the same lines as a feeling, but not the same, a presence.

Of course, there are the little gestures; flowers or gifts for no officially recognized card holiday, notes here and there just because. I've always like to do the flowers from out of nowhere. Seeing the smile it brings. Or maybe seeing the smile after you're led away in 'cuffs. "Damn stalker!"

I've been one who really doesn't believe in mushy, mouth crushing, hands all over, rubbing of the unmentionables, public displays of affection. "Yes, you're in love. We figured that out after seeing you implant your tongue in her throat. If you're that willing to show what the hell goes on in your bedroom, film it, and sell the video. Make some money on the loss of your pride."

However, when it comes to me personally, I do believe in touch. A quick peck on her cheek... her lips... her neck. My hand on her lower back. Okay, I realize I'm going back a little on what I said, but the arm around the waist is good, too. I just can't do the groping thing in public. (In private, however ....) It's not a sex thing. It's little things to let her know that I appreciate her. Being with her.

Out of the public eye, I like to play with her hair while talking with her. Trace her cheek bones. Her jaw. Her neck. The lobe of her ear. Her legs.

A look from her can make me feel appreciated. The way her mouth curves into a slow smile. The twinkle in her eyes when I make a lame joke. Ah, yes. The eyes. Eyes can melt a man... and I ain't talkin' superpowers.

Sometimes, just to know that someone is willing to be around you is good. Hell, they're standing next to you, watching the ballgame. They've got to love you! That really isn't the presence that I was talking about. To try and describe that... well, I've been trying, and I think it's indescribable. I know that I have felt that when I'm around that person, everything is cool with the world, and yet, nothing really matters.

Of course, I have to admit that I'm really just talking out of my ass right now. I have to go off of memories... it's been a long while. Though, I think that may also be a positive. I don't really know!

Go ahead and check out these guys' posts: Eric, Acidman, and Mr. Helpful, who tells of the eyes much better than I. These guys convey. I just say.

Update: Zonker's weighed in!

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February 11, 2005

From A Sneeze... Realization

A violent sneeze, tainted with a faint smell of hurl.

What's it mean? You've stayed beyond your one beer limit. Duh!

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February 08, 2005

First Aid for Morons

Quick tip:

Open wound? Do not get Tabasco in the wound. Resulting sensation is far removed from "tickling."

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February 03, 2005

Everyone's A Comedian

Quote of the evening (from a five year old at the bar):

Little lass sneezed, and we all said, "Bless you." With one exception. A friend of mine asked her if she was allergic to assholes. She quickly responded, "Just you."

I kid you not! The kid had tears coming from my eyes!

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February 01, 2005

Eatin' The Fat

After stopping at Ogre's place, and reading his post about spam, I sufferred from an incredible craving.

Thanks be that I still had a can of Spam in the house. (I had bought it as a joke for a Vietnam vet. He wouldn't even touch it. Oh, he laughed, but he wanted to kill me! :)) My only worry was that it may be a bit too old. Silly me, this stuff's good for another 2 months .... wait. That's 2 years and 2 months. "Best By APR 2007"

As I sat down to enjoy this lean treat (only 180 calories per serving, and a mere 140 of that is from fat), I thought about how this non-perishable delight was the butt of more than a few jokes. And yet today, they've made a musical named after it!

How many of you have a fondness for this can-o-fat?

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I will get around to having my pictures from vacation developed. When I do, I will put them in a gallery and let those who are interested check it out. In the meantime, my brother has his done, and gave me some copies. Neither of us took many shots since we were riding most of the time, so I will put both of our sets in the gallery. However, I'll give you a picture of the three of us (my brother "the perfect one*," my cousin, and me), taken in Rocky Mountain National Park.

The perfect one is the guy in the center, with my cousin being the one on the right.

And speaking of my bro, check out his little dude!

Damn cute kid! He definitely takes after his mother! Heh.

*This title is not a rip, in case you were wondering. He'll let you know that he is! :)

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January 31, 2005

Evil Papal Lie (Director's Cut /Alternate Ending)

(Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned... or will.)

Pope John Paul II had some problems with the symbol of peace. From Strange News- AP come these excerpts:

The pontiff was addressing thousands of young people from an Italian Catholic organization who marked January as a month to promote peace.

He was flanked at his studio window by a pair of 8-year-olds — a boy and girl — who urged the world to remember children who live in countries wracked by war...

Each of the children at his side sent a dove flying, but the white birds, perhaps alarmed by Rome's unusual cold spell, almost immediately darted back into his studio.

Laughing, the 84-year-old ailing pontiff seemed determined to set the symbol free. He grabbed one of the doves as an aide returned the birds to the window sill, and he shooed it out the window and playfully patted the boy on the head.

After a quick flight over the square, the bird quickly fluttered inside again as the pope grinned.

Then the Pope caught up the dove and wrung it's neck.

Alternate ending:

He then snatched up the dove, bit off it's head, and screamed (click here).

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Enabling Officers

I may be a bad person... but I couldn't help but chuckle when I read this.

The Philippines have a program in place that will help their law enforcement to take a bite out of crime.

It sounds like a good deal. The story is good. Why the hell am I laughing?

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January 30, 2005

Everyone Else Is Doin' It ...

"If they all jumped off a bridge, would you?"
"Well, if there were a good reason to, yes. Definitely."

Tammi has tagged me with the latest musical meme. So I'm jumping.

Random Ten Albums (I just picked some of those lying around my computer... they've got to be some of my favorites!):

Elmore James: The Sky Is Crying The History of Elmore James
James Gang: Rides Again
Jimi Hendrix: Blues
Machine Head: Burn My Eyes

Primus: Tales From The Punchbowl
Jane's Addiction: Nothing's Shocking
Johnny Cash: The Essential Johnny Cash
Stevie Ray Vaughan: In The Beginning
Clarence Gatemouth Brown: The Original Peacock Recordings
Clutch: The Elephant Riders

1. What is the total amount of music files on your computer?
I didn't really think it was that much, but when I checked, almost 4 gigs. Mostly, I just pop in a CD and jam while fiddling around on the computer.

2. The last CD you bought is:?
Slipknot's Subliminal Verses

3. What is the song you last listened to before this message??
(Classified) by "Man or Astro-Man?"

4. Five songs you often listen to or that mean a lot to you.?

Johnny Cash's Tennessee Flat-Top Box and/or The Ballad of Ira Hayes
Faith No More, The Gentle Art of Making Enemies
SRV, Shake For Me
Slayer, Raining Blood
Hendrix, Manic Depression

I know that none of these songs are really touching or anything, they just bring back good memories. Of course, you could always check out the soundtrack of my life.

5. Who are you gonna pass this stick to (other persons and why)?
This meme is definitely making the rounds, but I don't think that _Jon, sarahk, Johnny-Oh, Alex, or Anathematized have been tagged yet. I'd just like to see their taste in music.

That is all.

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January 27, 2005

Dedication, Determination, and Dickheadosity

Unmoving. Incredibly balanced. I see him most everyday, and can not help but be impressed. I know not how he reached his position, but that it must have been a hell of a climb.

But offer to buy the guy a drink. Try to tell him how impressed you've been with his dedication over the past years. Express awe. He'll just stare you down.

What an asshole this guy is!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:05 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

January 25, 2005

Deadly Animal Hunting

Yep, I'm fully aware that my posting has sucked of late. But I've got an excuse. A good explanation.

There is a ferocious animal running around my house. I've been trying to capture or kill it, but I just can't succeed. I managed to get a picture of the little dude. Two, actually. The second one was the straw that broke the camel's back. My beer was being killed right in front of my eyes! After I snapped the shot, he took off running, and all I can find of his presence, now, is a string of empty beer bottles!

Here's the photographic proof. Ladies and Gents, meet Sebastian the Sauced Squirrel:
Free Image Hosting at
Here he almost looks cute. I figured I could deal with a rodent as long as he left me alone. But this is the shot that earned him his death sentence:
Free Image Hosting at
Thanks to ImageShack forFree Image Hosting

Follow me in my continued quest for the beer killing squirrel. And I promise, posting will pick up. Wait .... do you hear that? I swear I hear disco music. I have you now, you little rat!!!

Yeah, I posted that link before... but some of you may not have caught it before.

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January 21, 2005

To The New Guy

To Baby First Class Brayden:

Welcome, little man, to your new permanent duty station. I'm not sure what they told you when you were issued your orders, but rest assured; this isn't bad duty. Border patrol at the Hell/Humanity border is bad duty.

While this post isn't near the hellhole that some claim it is, there has been a recent increase in the number of seedy characters running about. This is where your officers in charge come in. You've got some of the best.

They will oversee your training, and prepare you for your future dealing with the "bad guys." Ideally, you will not have to have any clashes with them until your training is complete. However, things rarely come out ideally here. When these situations arise, watch and learn, my little friend. Your XO, "Mother" here, will protect you with a ferocity usually only found south of heaven. Don't jack with her. She may be the titled the XO, but I think we all know that she runs the show.

Your CO, "Father," is a good man. He's there to steer you down the right path, and to help provide your chow and utilities. He, as well, is someone you want to keep happy.

Your two training partners, or "brothers," are there strictly to amuse and annoy. It is your job to do the same for them. If you each do a proper job, you will grow up to be a very tight knit bunch, and you should never have to watch your six in times of trouble. You'll be there for each other.

May your tour be a long and pleasant one, BFC. Should you ever need anything, or have a question that your commanding officers can't, or won't answer, feel free to contact me.

Faithfully yours,

Master Drinking Sgt. T1G

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January 20, 2005

Checkin' In

Hey, all. Nope, the rumors about me visiting the jail aren't true. (Although maybe I should give it a try in preparation for the Wreckyll in Jekyll. This isn't a for sure, but a "try like hell" deal.) As for being dead, the jury is still out on that one.

Visited the doc last week, and they made me take a blood test. Got my results yesterday.
Total cholesterol= 140
HDL cholesterol= 60 (yeah, Doc, 60! Eat that!!)
LDL cholesterol= 32 (yeah, ok, bad)
Other mumbo jumbo= Good
Triglycerides = Way too frickin' high. 250+

Doc's message to me= Whatever you're doing, keep it up, with one addition. Cut way back on your alchohol intake. Alchohol will lead to your high triglyceride count. Keep drinks to a 2 beer/day limit. Come back in thirty days for another blood test. Excercise will raise your LDL levels. Recommend you start a regular program.

Okay. Kinda pissed. I. Don't. Drink. Everyday. I just believe in doing it right, if you are going to do it at all. Most weeks, I probably have maybe 8 beers, with the exception of Saturday, Monday, and Friday. Oh, and Thursday. Then the count kinda jumps up. Just a bit.

I was visiting with the daytime bartender, who is an ex-nurse, and I figured out a way to stay within this "two beers a day" bull crap. From here on out, I will order a pitcher or two, and just drink from the pitcher. Problem solved. Dos cervezas. Zwei biers. Or, for those that know Bob Hope movies, "TWO SHORT BEERS!!!"

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January 17, 2005

Meant tp post.b ut can't.

Meant tp post.b ut can't. Quessadila nighht. Emai;s anwsered tomorrow. Figured out where I wen't wrong. No. More. Quesadillas. Just beberages. That os a;;/

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January 13, 2005

Bug's Recipe

VW is hosting this week's Carnival of Recipes. Here's my lame attempt at a contribution. This is an easy recipe. Throw it together the night before, and grill it the next day. Minutes of work.

Joe's Chicken

Grab a package of chicken breasts (however many)

12 oz. Italian Dressing

6-12 oz. Tabasco (depends on how warm you may like it)

Mix dressing and Tabasco. Split between two containers, one large enough to hold both chicken and the warming fluid. Obviously now, put chicken in the smaller bowl. Nah, just kidding. You know where it goes. Cover both containers, and let set over night. Hungry? Grill breasts (the chicken's) using spare container to baste, or whatever it's called. If you want, you can warm the extra fluid, and toss the breasts in as they come off of the grill.

Chow time.

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Advisory meeting was held on Tuesday. One of the concerns was the recent outage of toilet paper. In all bathrooms. Not. one. roll. to be found. This was brought to my attention by quite a few people, the least of them being myself. Paper towels do not leave a feeling of a job well done. Trust me.

I was a little unhappy about the situation, so I went to complain to the supervisor. He said that they were aware of the state of the paper supply. They had been out since the day before!

When I'm mad, I try to make myself laugh. Sometimes it helps. I started coming up with all kinds of ways for the company to save money. Washing used toilet paper, charging to use paper, and some other lame ideas.

I finally told a co-worker that I was going to suggest that we install new fixtures and hand dryers. Voila! No more toilet paper ever needed! A friend of mine walked up then, looked at me, and asked, "Who's this Bud Hayes? And how is he going to help clean our asses?"

I tried to bring up the bidets in the meeting, but I couldn't keep a straight face, and I just busted up laughing! I just kept thinking of Bud Hayes following us all around!

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Bob, Sluggo, and Randy Moss

Hey,look everyone! Randy Moss got fined 10 g's for his "mooning incident." How lame.

Believe me, I'm not here to defend the ass. The little boy is a world class jerk, no denying. His act Sunday was in poor taste, and totally disrespects an opponent. But it was kinda funny. Hell, if you were watching the game, you heard Chris Collinsworth start to laugh about it seconds before Joe Buck started carrying on like someone had just eviscerated a kitten on national television. "Oh, that is just disgusting! I can't believe our cameras caught that!"

If you missed it, Moss caught a pass, ran for the touchdown, and then acted like he mooned the Green Bay fans. Hey, it's Moss. Do you expect anything better? The Sideshow Bob wanna-be flattener of traffic cops is an idiot. But I still say, though tasteless, it was funny. It was a "pre-emptive strike" of sorts. You never hear this stuff, but from NY Daily News, comes this excerpt:

Moss, who caught two touchdown passes despite spraining his right ankle in Sunday's game, said afterward that his end zone celebration "was more of a fun thing and not a hatred thing."

Yesterday, Colts coach Tony Dungy not only agreed but also offered some context.

"It's not the kind of thing you want to see on national TV, but I understand what it was all about," Dungy said. "Anyone who has played in the NFC Central knows what that's about. The fans in Green Bay have a tradition in the parking lot after the game where they moon the visiting team's bus. It's kind of a unique sendoff."

Again, not defending him, but getting to something else.

My co-workers and I were discussing how it was funny watching how everyone was so offended by this "disgusting display" during a football game. We started working out some funny observations.

Does this just apply to actual field time, or should it apply to the whole freaking game? You know, there's a timeout on the field, so you run to grab another beer, only to enter the room in time to hear, "If an erection should last over 4 hours, contact your doctor." WTF?! That's not something I want to hear while watching a game!

Do these people buying air time think that guys are watching the game and, as soon as it cuts to commercial, they're going to say, "Thank God for the break. Hey, Jim, I want to ask you about something."
"Sure, Bill, fire away."
"Well, that's what I'd like to talk to you about. You see, I can't get myself in the condition to 'fire away.'"
"Oh, that's not good. Junior is a little lame, huh? Well, there's this pi.... Wait, here's the commercial now!"
"Praise be!"

Then there's Bob. You know who I'm talking about. The mascot for the "E" pill. Yes, the guy with the creepy look on his face, supposed to be a smile. It's actually an obvious clue that this stuff really works. All extra skin is pulled from different areas of the body to accomodate the increased size of the nether regions, resulting in this grimace. I'm curious to see what happens to this guys face when Sluggo gets happy. I almost picture the top of his head being pulled down around his neck. Don't forget Mrs. Bob, with the look that says, "my organs have been forced to places they just shouldn't be, now that Bob is a 'big boy.'" Oh, BTW, Bob worships Satan. Thanks Grau for the heads up.

Okay, Bob's not so bad, but still, I find these ads more disturbing than anything on the game itself. Perhaps because of the serious tones used. Kinda gives the feel like I described with Bill and Jim. Guys don't do that. Now, if humor were used (as is attempted with Bob), it would be a hell of alot more tolerable. Like L...tra still using Mike Ditka, but having him make some crack, like, "They don't call me IRON Mike for nuthin'." Or V..gra using Bob "The Rod" Dole. Something to take the one-on-one chat feel out of the commercial. I could deal with this. But as it is now, I find commercial breaks more distasteful than anything I've seen during game play.

Maybe it's just me...

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January 11, 2005

Beer Blogging

"Sins of gods run through the head, a second genesis
Some have called it ignorance, others have called it bliss
I've done my time, liberate me
I have done my penance, inebriate me
The truth of it all
The truth of it all
Inebriate me
Inebriate me"

Arcadia, by Clutch

A stop for a beer. Heh. Yeah. I'll answer your emails and comments tomorrow. On the evening. Or so.

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January 10, 2005


I woke up the other day in a rather rude fashion, and first thought to blog about it. But then I started thinking that it was a little too much information, even though funny, and decided against it. That was until I saw this article.

Seems those damn Asian lady bugs are a problem in Texas. Just Texas? No. Every fall, I have walls covered with the cursed things. They go everywhere, and even when you think you're rid of them, you'll find more. Usually in large clumps. The article mentions they smell. Yeah, they stink to holy hell. Smell a little like something decomposing in earth.

One thing that the article didn't mention; the little bastards bite. Believe it or not, it smarts. Early fall, when they show up after the harvest starts, they seem to be the most aggressive. But they will bite almost anytime.

I've spotted a few on my walls, and decided that I would tolerate them. Doesn't take too long and they die anyway. But after the rude awakening I got, I've declared war. I'm going to kill every last one that I find! The nice guy mode has now shut down!

Why? Because Saturday morning I was wakened by a chomp to the nads! I woke up and thought, "what was that?" Only to get a second bite to the satchel. That was it. I flew out of bed and quickly discovered and dispatched the little squirrel wanna-be.
The war is now on, and no Geneva Convention rules apply!

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By Other Means Found

Over the past few weeks, I've noticed some searches that have referred my blog. I wrote a few down because I thought them amusing, and planned on making a post with a list of some of the weird ones. Harvey was thinking the same thing after reading a post at Mike's.

I'm no longer number one on any of these, although I was, at the time it referred me, for plain creepy on Google.
Some of my referrals:
yahoo search, drunken berries
google, evil glenn
google, difference between comma and apostrophe
google, plain creepy
google (dutch), this is a new type of war is an eradication
google, What is on harvey's monster thickburger

I know, not so strange, except for "drunken berries," but with the exception of the "comma" search, all were within the top 10 at the time referred. Comma was 25. But my favorite, is also the strangest. At one point, I was number 2 for the MSN search for .... girls farting badly fetish. It's true! I still don't know how that came about!

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January 09, 2005

B-Day Suggestions

My mother's birthday is coming up next week. It's a special birthday, and all of kids are looking to get her something different from the usual. One gift from the four of us. Our imaginations aren't doing so well, perhaps because we are trying to think practical rather than special. Don't know. But I thought, "Why not see what suggestions I could get from readers of my blog?!"

I'd give some specific interests, but I think that may limit ideas. So if you don't mind dropping a suggestion or two, it would be appreciated!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:18 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

BP Meds and Frozen Extremities

I've got hypertension. I've had it since I was a kid. Not a new thing. But since one trip to the doc when my blood pressure was 163/116, I've been prescribed meds. I am horrible about taking them regularly, and I get my assed chewed out by the doc frequently. After my last trip, 2 weeks ago, they want me to come back in to see if they need to up my dosage or change meds. I've been told to make sure I don't miss any medicine in between visits. I've done well.

But while this is the same medicine (Atenolol) I've been taking, it's from a different manufacturer. It has side effects, but really, I never seem to suffer from any of them. One is possibility of the feet and hands becoming cold. As I've said, never had a problem. Until the past couple of days.

I keep my house cool. Some say arctic cool. But the past couple of days have me in agony. My feet and hands are so cold that they hurt! Bad. I've been running around with my hands tucked into my sleeves, and feet in wool socks. This isn't me. I like the cold. But if this nonsense keeps up ....

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January 08, 2005

Available No More

Looks as if I'm going to be moving out to California. Seems that they decided that I really was the guy for her. Brad and Jennifer that is. Glad they came to their senses!

Sorry, ladies, but I'm taken now!

Don't I wish!

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Reading through my blogroll yesterday, I read over at Mostly Cajun's about how his Uncle Pete had his version of walking on water, and knew I was going to have to post a couple of stories. I wasn't the only one. Wasn't long, and I noticed that Dash and Christina had posted stories also. The topic? Encounters with snakes.

As you may be able to tell, I hate snakes. I do not like them with all the "do not likedness" one is allowed to possess. They aren't right. Nothing that lacks legs should be able to move as fast as they do. If I'm aware of their presence, I'm not so spineless. Put some glass between me and a serpent, and I can watch them for hours. Because of the "moving without legs thing." But take away that glass, and any sudden moves could trigger a bowel movement. I'm drifting.

The stories of the swamp reminded me of my own murky water encounter. I had just gotten to my permanent duty station at Lejeune, and we had a nice little hump out into the middle of nowhere. (Somewhere not too far from Combat Town for those that know the area.) We were to stay out for a couple of nights, recon patrols and practicing different things.

One of the corporals told me, as we walked into our camp, to keep an eye out for snakes. And then he told me about a few brushes with snakes by others, and his own personal unintentional rendezvous with a cottonmouth. Right in this very area. Great. I didn't know if he was just jacking me or what, but you warn me about snakes, I'm payin' attention!

Inevitably, I got my shot to go out on patrol. I had watched the previous patrols all taking the high ground as they left. I'm sure they all hit the swamp eventually, but still, I had my hopes. They were crushed immediately as we left camp and dropped down into the marsh.

It wasn't that bad, until we started across some standing water. The water was deep enough to come to the tops of my knees (almost 2ft.), with a couple of spots about 3/4 of the way up my thigh.

We were a little over halfway across, when we got the signal to "Freeze." We slowly squatted down until our asses were just barely out of the water, as we watched an "enemy patrol" working their way along the swamp. 50 yards away, and they never saw us! They were just about out of sight when I felt a tap on my leg. On the inside of my thigh! As I stood there wondering "WTF?!," the tap was followed by a solid bump, bump on the same leg, and one on the other! I slowly turned to verify that there was indeed a goodly interval between me and the Marine following me, then looked down, and saw a swirl in the water! I immediately thought, "Cottonmouth!"

I would like to think that it was discipline and not fear that kept me motionless. I'll probably never truly know. I do know that as soon as the signal was given to move, I somehow was up a skinny little tree. I think I levitated, because I sure as hell don't remember climbing!

I'm not sure to this day if that was a snake in that water, or what. I figure it was Divine payback for something I had done while still in Pendleton.

We were doing a land navigation course as part of our infantry training. As my partner and I finished up, we ran into some Marines that had been in boot camp with us. We're all making our way back along a thin trail, when we were frozen in our tracks by a buzzsaw rattle. We couldn't figure out where it was coming from, or if there was more than one snake in the brush.

The area we were in is thick with rattlesnakes. I swear that they dump all rattlers found in the west onto Juliet area! To top things off, some loon had been catching them and taking their rattles off earlier in the day. We were petrified!

We finally located the bastard under some brush near the trail. Seriously, I would lay money that his head was almost two and a half inches across. This was a big snake! We decided to go elsewhere, when we heard another rattle. Now we had a choice; go through the brush and face who knows how many snakes, or work our way past the big boy. At the time, "leave the area the way we came" never even came to mind.

After much nervous laughter, I decided I would go first. I started walking and when about even with the snake, I "jumped to safety." Nervous reaction. But my partner did the same thing. The other two decided that they were going to go together. (They were cousins from Minnesota.) They counted down, and took off running, then launched themselves into the air. I couldn't resist. I did my impersonation of a rattlesnake at that moment.

I can't say I wouldn't have reacted the same way they did. And I realize that it's not funny. But it was hysterical! The look on their faces was classic as they both tried to stop in midair. One of them almost made a 180o turn by the time he landed. It was a contorted mass of bug eyes, swirling arms, and kicking feet! And yes, I got the crap pounded out of me for that. I couldn't fight back because I was laughing so hard!

After my little encounter in the swamp, I've never messed with anyone when it comes to snakes. I've learned my lesson. Other fears, however, I still have to work on!!!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:39 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

January 07, 2005

Agitating The Gods of MuNu?

Was I the only one, or were others banned from commenting on MuNu sites last night? Haven't checked to see if it's changed now or not, but I kept getting Forbidden messages everytime I even wanted to view comments. Must make note to sacrifice a llama to gain the Munuvian Gods' favor.

Couple my exile with my ISP screwing up again, not to mention being a little tired from my shift change, and you get something like the post below.

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Angry Idiot

"AwwwffffffffffFUUUUUgggggghhhhnnnnnnnn pencil peckered sons of knock-kneed, crosseyed, motherless goats!!"

You ever done/said something when you are extremely pissed that just makes you stop and wonder, "Where the hell did that come from?" Or, "That doesn't even make sense?!" Next thing you know, you're laughing at your idiocy. Or at least I am. While I know I can be a little different, I know I'm not the only one!

"Sons of motherless goats" comes from the timeless classic "The Three Amigos." Not sure where the rest came from.

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January 06, 2005

A Little Late

Yes, Christmas has passed and lifted all of our wallets. But I have to share something with you that had me rolling earlier today. NSFW

Tammi, who saw it over at Smokin's place, sent me this little clip about how the Christmas spirit is lost. She said it reminded her of my NYE post. So, yes, there's a four letter word or two involved.

If "You're gonna get, coal in your stocking, 'cuz you're yuppie scum," sounds familiar, you've seen it. If you haven't, check it out.

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At The Bar of The Ages

I first saw this over at Eric's, and thought, "That'll be an easy one!" Umm... no. It's not at all.

What the lad is asking, is if you had a chance to go drinking with five historical figures, who would they be? He has his answers, along with some readers' in the comments, Acidman his, Flynny hers, and the one who started it all, Rube.

Like I said, starts out fairly simple. Until you start thinking. Eric has some authors on his list. I too start out having a few. But then, I ended up taking them out. For now. You can easily come up with people that you would like to meet, but trying to whittle it down to five? Na gah da.

So, here's my five. In no particular order.

1. John Colter

2. Daniel Boone

3. Winston Churchill

4. William Kidd

5. Nikola Tesla

Choices were made just because I would like to ask alot of questions. I love history, and these guys could cover alot of ground. But I also had some authors hanging right in there, so I'll give you five authors also. Edgar Allen Poe, Stephen King, Douglas Adams, Louis L'Amour, and Shakespeare. There's alot of Marines too, but I won't keep making lists up. This was a good exercise. Thanks, Eric.

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January 05, 2005

American 'Roo

Saw this article while checking e-mail. A kangaroo in Wisconsin. Believe it or not, it didn't suprise me. A few years ago, I had read a book called The W-Files, by Jay Rath. It's a fun to read book about some of Wisconsin's paranormal and unexplained phenomena. He makes mention about kangaroo sightings in Waukesha and Eau Claire counties. I can't remember (I no longer have the book) if he makes mention of the earliest reported sighting or not. That was in 1899, Richmond, WI (or NEW Richmond... both are listed). You can see this little bite of info here, but you've got to scroll down to the section called Phantom Kangaroos. There is also a list of some other sightings around the country to be found here. I would give you a few more links, but I'm tired of "hopping" around

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Apple Bologna

Now, I know I'm running a fever. Just woke up from a strange dream. Can't remember the whole thing, but the last bit is still there.

I'm sitting in my two room house (yes, room), but from the outside, this house is huge. On three sides anyways. Okay, sitting there, and in walks Dean Martin. This is a younger Dean, but he's wearing some horrible looking forest green leisure suit. He starts jabbering away, but not to me. I turn and look, and there's a priest and a nurse, also in the room. He's saying to the priest, "I'm telling you, you just can't find any good apple bologna anymore! And the liquor these days, Father, I think it's poisoned!" And then he starts bitching about how if you drink too much liquor, now days, it'll give you the shits. And starts to describe exactly how bad you get them. "Never used to happen!!!" I start to ask a question about apple bologna, and find myself outside of the house. On the short side. There I find a dude in a Slipknot mask acting like he's "wrestling the bald headed champ." I take off to chase him down (suddenly I have a bat in my hand), but as I round the corner of the house, I smash into the side of it. I wake up.

Now I'm trying to figure out what apple bologna is. I think that's weird.

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January 04, 2005

An Astounding Fact

While I was laid up, I had plenty of thinking time. So, of course, I came to a few realizations. But I'll place the onus of only of these illuminations upon you at this time. Seriously. This is pretty heavy stuff if. you. think. about. it.

Humans seem to get a better sleep when they are tired.

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Slightly related to the post below.

Am I the only one who upon hearing "Auld Lang Syne," thinks of "redrum", killer shrubbery, the Overlook Hotel, Lloyd the bartender, and Jack Nicholson? As "Jack Torrance?"

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Amusement and Shame on New Year's

I stopped at the pub tonight for a beer and quesadilla. I learned a bit about myself.

Even though I shouldn't have been out New Year's Eve, I was. Got tired of being in bed all week being a sickly man. Yeah, I went back home to bed to rest, but, hey, it was crappy weather, and not many were out. A guy's gotta help take up the slack!

Anyway, I guess I was quite the hit with the bar, although I don't remember that much. I was called a unicorn because my party hat was not on the top of my head, but somewhere in the forehead vicinity. This I do remember.

I was dancing with quite a few of the ladies, even though I'm not a dancer. At all. This I do remember.

The DJ and his wife thought that I was a cartoon, and kept playing music that I liked to keep me on the dance floor. This I do remember.

I started the evening on some strong German beer, switched to some kind of vodka, then to shots of Black Haus, back to beer, and finished up drinking glasses of champagne ... as shots. This I faintly remember.

At closing, I reverted back to Marine lingo, an overabundance of four letter words. I haven't a clue.

Somewhere in the course of leaving the establishment, I switched to pirate speak. Because my hat now covered one eye. Your guess is as good as mine.

Before I went out the door, the DJ wanted to buy me a drink. I smiled and "told him off." Something stupid, along the lines of, "Damn you, you think I'm drunk. Well, I'm drunk enough already Mr. Guy." I guess he just laughed, but tried to offer again. I don't really know, it's what I've been told. Three times.

I'm amused and disappointed in myself. I haven't been drunk enough to forget things in quite awhile. Years. I never act like a jerk to people that I don't know. Kinda funny, but not. But I can't believe I turned down a drink. I'm so ashamed!

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January 02, 2005

A Sort of Update

Posting has been off. This I know. Between problems with my ISP, Blogger (I haven't been able to get to my blog at times, so I operate off of others' blogrolls for reading), and being a sickly bastard, I've been terrible at keeping up. Starting new work hours today, so posting is going to be a little off until I figure out a schedule that works. I'll be starting work at about the time I used to go to bed. It's going to be interesting! I'll probably still post early morning, but work everything up the night before. We'll see how it goes!

SITREP: 04:16, current state= very freekin' tired. Got maybe 2 hours of sleep, but I fear it's much less. Ten hour work day: 05:00 - 15:30. Not happy. Not. One. Bit. All I can do now is laugh. Maniacally. Let the fun begin. Literally. Salt truck just went by. Oh, joy, Ren.

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What A Sweet Job

The other day, I was reading different blogs, and found a video posted that just kicks ass. I'm not supposed to link tothis blog, else my soul be damned, so I won't.

The video is of an F-18. Cool stuff. Only thing that would have made it any better would have been a shot showing how the ground looks to the pilot when he's inverted.

Some of you know that I was a Marine, and I was with 2nd LAI (Light Armored Infantry) Battalion at Swamp Lejeune, NC. I was with the mortar section of our platoon, and was in fact, the FDC chief. All that means is that I literally got to "call the shots" when out in the field on a shoot.

One of my favorite things to do on a shoot was to work with the air element. Sometimes we'd just mark for air, basically just dropping a smoke round on a target, and a forward observer radios any adjustment that needs to be made to the pilot of the bird. I loved working with A-10s (Warthogs) the best. They've got a 30 mm cannon on'em that just makes the plane seem like it stops in mid-air when it's fired. Truly awesome to watch!

The other type of work we did with the air wing was called front door/backdoor. No, Harvey. We would drop rounds on the target until the fighters came in, and then resume as they flew away after dropping their rounds. As you can guess, this has to be well timed; mortars are not a flat trajectory weapon! This was incredible to watch. At least to me. The birds would come in low, go "into the pop" (sometimes totally inverted), make their adjustments, and fire away! I would watch them like a little kid, complete with the drooling "wow!" I always wondered what it would look like from their eyes!

Rambling, yes, but damn, some good memories.

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December 31, 2004

Sally's Comment Party

Hey! Get your bloody arses over to Sally's New Year's comment party! Do it now!


Don't forget, time difference from EST is 5 hours. As of this post, it's now under three hours 'til midnight there!

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Finger Food

It's the time of year for parties, and that means drinking and lots of finger food. Seems one man has taken it a "bit" far.

The guy is only accused. No evidence of the "chow" was found. I'd guess that they've got someone on what Sally would call "pony watch".

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December 30, 2004

Snot Breathers

You ever been standing in a line, whether it's at the grocery store or some retail shop, and the person behind you has that nasal breathing going? Nasty, wet sounding, as in slurping something through a straw, gurgling, snot poppin' breathing? The person you just want to turn around and pummel? Well, that person is me. Swing away! Can't hurt to get the snot knocked out of me. And who knows? I may enjoy it! I won't even ask for a "safe word."

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December 26, 2004

Yet Another Question

A benefit of taking cough medicine. "Promotes more productive coughs." Why the hell do you put that on the packaging? I thought the object of taking medicine is to get rid of your cough. Not to improve it's employability.

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December 25, 2004

It's Christmas, Time to Kill

Well, today has ended up being better than I thought, but not what I had hoped for. This coughing and wheezing and just plain ole sickliness has me at home. I figured just to stay at home in bed, so last night I ran up to my mother's place hoping to visit a bit, and to drop off presents for today. Saw quite a few deer on the way, and some very large does. Mom wasn't around, so I waited for a bit, then headed back home.

This morning, I get a call from my aunt asking me to join them for breakfast. You don't tell this woman "no." Just doesn't work. Anyway, I went and ended up having a great meal and visit. On my way out of town, I watched a coyote working the brush, trying to kick something out.

Had to make a quick trip back up to my mom's to drop off a camera, and saw a couple of small flocks of turkeys. Coming back, I saw one flock that had to have had over thirty birds! And, as I'm travelling along, I see a rubline along the trees edging a creek. Some of the trees were about 4 - 5 inches in diameter. Not a bad sized buck!

Not many people get to see this stuff. I'm one of those guys that always takes the backroads, even if it is further in miles. So much more to see, at least nature-wise. Seeing this stuff today and last night has thrown a serious jones on me. I've got to get back out into the woods. I've got to do some hunting.

I used to go all the time when I lived in Wisconsin. Now here in Illinois, it's a matter of finding a place to hunt. So I haven't been out in about 6 years. It's really bugging me. It's not so much about killing. It's about being out in the woods the way it used to be. Hell, there were a few years where I let animals go, and of course, earned the nickname "Joe Lettem-Go." Just being out is a great feeling to me. Of course, downing an animal is a great feeling, too! But just to have the thrill of sitting in your treestand while a herd of deer bed down beneath you, or to make yourself a makeshift blind, and within a half hour have a flock of turkeys come through, things like that are impossible to describe. Watching a coyote running along the edge of the swamp, playing like a puppy, totally oblivious to you. That's one you'd like to get the shot at, but just the same, it's fun to watch.

Stillhunting through the woods, and having grouse explode seemingly from underfoot. Watching a badger go after a woodchuck. Being screamed at as you make your way out of the woods at night, by God knows what. Things that will get your heart pumping.

Hearing what sounds like a miniature jack hammer going, sneaking your way to the sound, and spotting the largest by-gawd woodpecker you've ever seen! I've gotten to see two Pileated woodpeckers, one by Trego, Wisconsin, and the other in the state forest by Black River Falls, WI.

Starting to lose my point. I guess all I wanted to say is that "I've gotta get into the woods, if it's the last thing I ever do!"

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December 24, 2004

Happy Holidays!

Since I probably won't be posting much other than the promised update below until Sunday, I thought I would wish all of you a great holiday.

Merry Christmas and a Great New Year to all of you!

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I'm Off

Of course, most people that know me already knew that. But I meant, I'm off of work until the third of January. Thought it would never get here! And some of my co-workers thought so, too. They were praying for the night to end... and not for the holiday. I think it had something to do with getting away from me.

Most of the night, I was singing part of this,
"Would you like an apple pie with that?
Would you like an apple pie with that?

Ding - Fries are done
Ding - Fries are done
Ding - Fries are done
Ding - Friiieeess aarrrrre dooooooonnnne"

And when not singing that, I was singing myself breatheless repeating,

"There's so many of us, there's so many of us, there's so many,
there's so many of us, there's so many of us, there's so many, "

Not that the last is a holiday song, but I kept thinking about this band's "Christmas" song. I love Christmas right up until I have to shop. After that, it's all downhill fast. Sometimes their Christmas song is exactly what I'm thinking. That's why I like to delay as long as possible!

So just out of curiousity, does anyone recognize the second song (it's the intro) without a search? And if you, do, do you know the Christmas song that I refer to? Just wondering. I'll post an update with the answer later.

UPDATE (as promised):

The second song is "Let's Have A War," by Fear. Also covered by Sacred Reich. It is off of this album. The "Christmas"song that I referred to is the last track on the CD version only. It's called "F#%@ Christmas." Heheheheh

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December 23, 2004

Save A Life

What is the best way to stop a bloody nose? Just had a nice gusher that I couldn't get to stop. It was so bad, I had to hop in the shower and just let it go. Took a nice long time to wait it out. Haven't figured out if it actually stopped, or if I've bled out and died.

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It's Time

Today. Dec. 23rd.

Time to start shopping. Gah!

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A Christmas Tune

Something to check out. Chris of "A Large Regular" has a link to a BK Christmas tune. Song had me cracking up! Also, there is a remix of the song at the bottom of the page. Can someone tell me if the music is Savatage? Sure sounds like them.

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Blog Novella

Another link post. If you've got the time to read these, I guarantee you'll enjoy them. You may have heard about this already. Christina, ofFeisty Repartee started a blog novella and other bloggers have been adding to it, a chapter at a time. Here's what it's like to me, so far.

We're standing on the edge of a pond. The water is a little murky, but still inviting as Christina starts us off. Next up is Eric with part two. The water is a little agitated but still inviting as Eric makes a smooth transition. Along comes Acidman, and now the water is filled with menacing whorls. Something big is down there. No longer interested in swimming, but I've got to see what the hell that thing is! Now Jack from Random Fate is up. He does a good job clearing everything up. Hell, you can almost see bottom! Maybe a swim ain't out of the question. That is until Velociman takes his at bat. Either he dropped a grenade in the pond, or he conjured some type of demon of the deep! What was clear is now incredibly muddied. Can't wait to see what Mr. Helpful adds to the mix.

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December 21, 2004

How Touching

The other night, I saw a sight, that very deeply touched me.... Ah, screw the rhyming crap. I was driving home from work, when I topped a rise, and saw a set of eyes running from a blob on the road to a garbage can. Back and forth. At first I thought it was a 'coon, but as I neared, I saw that it was a cat. And so was the blob on the road. Someone smucked that thing badly. It was a hell of a smear.

Cats are known to be independent, and sometimes solitary animals. I never expected to see a cat looking so lost, and confused over the loss of another cat. As I approached, and observed, I felt a wave of emotion wash over me. I wanted so bad to be able to do something.

But I missed.

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December 20, 2004

Piano Man (SWG remix)

Something for you to check out. Eric of Straight White Guy, posts a link-fest to "Piano Man", by Billy Joel.

He did a damn fine job!

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December 19, 2004


Cold. Possible snow. BEARS GAME! Gonna be there! Bwahahahahahahaha!!!!

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December 18, 2004


Paul of Yorkshire Snowman and Debbie of Buttercup are tying the knot today! Give them your best wishes!

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December 17, 2004

Carnival of Recipes V.18.0

Yep, that time again. This week's carnival is hosted by the Harry Potter inspired sarahk. She's done an excellent job setting this up! Go check it out! And tell her that I sent you!

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December 16, 2004

Grumpy Santa

This post started with a chuckle, and now I'm the one that's grumpy. For some reason I can't link you directly to this musical number about Santa. From Jib Jab.

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Tell me now, is this kid related to me, or what?!

I'd suggest that you don't click on the thumbnails. Thought I had both resized, but I guess not!

Little guy's cute, huh? He didn't even know until after he did this, that his uncle does the same thing!

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TV? No Thanks

Personal relationships, stressful situations, financial woes. Sometimes it's good just to step back, and try to view your situation from an outsider's point of view. Other times, it's good to go to an outsider. You will realize that even though things may currently suck, they aren't as bad as you are making them out to be. Or maybe they are, in which case, you're screwed.

Don't watch much television, says I. Except for football, and some baseball (ok, and cartoons if they're on), nothing is worth watching. Being the ill individual that I've been lately, I wrapped up in a blanket, and tried to watch so TV this afternoon, before heading off to work. So much for relaxing.

A show was on that just had me pissed off, and mocking the TV. I would like to see video of that! Anyway, the guy in this show moves in with people who have relationship problems, and tries to help fix them. S T U P I D! Not that helping people is stupid, but this way of helping people is stupid. Apparently, all you have to do is repeat a phrase that this guy tells you, and you are back on the road to happiness. Say it, believe it, and life is good. I never knew it was so easy! Maybe I'm being a little negative. Could be. I do know that all I could think as I'm watching this show was, "Probably the only thing that keeps people from wiping that stupid smile off of his face is the fact that there are cameras all around."

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Beer Beef Stew

Ok, peoples. It's that time of the week. Yes, the Carnival of Recipes. The wuvwy sarahk is hosting the 18th Carnival ... on Friday. the. 17th. What the ...? That isn't good planning there.

Anyway, since she shook her fist at me asked me so nicely, I decided that I would enter. Just cause I'm a nice guy and all. This is a recipe from my sis, sometimes referred to as "Poop." She made it a couple of weeks ago. Wow. Good stuff people. Now that I've got the recipe, I'll be making it for my own personal self!


1 lb boneless chuckroast (or round steak), cut in 1 in. cubes

1 can (10 3/4 oz.) cream of mushroom soup (yes, I know .... fungus, but hey, it still came out ok)

1 pkg. dry onion soup mix

1 12 oz. can of beer (Don't just use any old cheap ass beer. You'll be able to slightly taste it. Use a good healthy beer. Doesn't have to be some expensive brew, but c'mon, you shouldn't be buying cheap beer in the first place. Unlessssssss...... nevermind)

1 cup canned tomatoes, peeled and quartered

6 small whole onions or 1 small can pearl onions, drained

4 - 6 medium potatoes, peeled and quartered

2 - 3 ribs celery, sliced into 2 in. chunks (I once looked for celery ribs... there wasn't a backbone, so I had a hard time.)

2 - 3 carrots, sliced into 2 in. chunks

1 tsp worchestershire sauce

Combine meat, soup, onion soup mix and beer into oven-proof cassarole or Dutch oven with a tight fitting lid. Cover; bake at 300 degrees for 3 hrs. add tomatoes, onions, potatoes, celery, carrots, and worchestershire sauce, return to oven for 1 hr or longer. Yield: 6-8 servings

A note from the Beloved Poop: ( I used round steak, and cut up a plain old small onion, and also omitted the 'maters. Then I just threw it all in the crock pot, and turned it on high for 2 hrs, and then low for 4, or until you are ready to chow down. If you do it this way, I would brown the meat for a few minutes before you toss it in the pot... ) :)


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December 15, 2004

Of Bombs And Basketball

Wow. I feel like the porcelain in the post below. Sick and getting sicker. Damn.

Advisory meeting went well. Early on someone mentioned "sanitary items" in the womens bathroom. They wanted to know who handled them. As soon as I heard "sanitary items," I plugged my ears, and started "LaLaLaLaLaLa-ing." Why did they need to know who restocked them? No reason. None. Why the hell bring it up? I don't know, but it was a great way to get started.

My turn. I listed off about five suggestions, then grinned and told them about "el caca kablooie." I couldn't find a decent way to start, so I just told them that someone was blowing some major mud in the men's room. *Puzzled looks all around.* I went into the same description as below. I did get to use the word prolapse, and at that, the plant manager (a farmer) had such a look of disgust on his face, that I lost it. Hell, they all were disgusted with me! Loved it. He says, "This from the guy who gets queasy hearing about sanitary items." That got everyone laughing. The guy doesn't have much of a sense of humor, but he was in fine form today. Cool.

This evening, played some basketball for the company. Our team isn't the best, but we (they) can play some pretty good ball. We won by about 20 points. Felt damn good. I played for about half the game. I had 2 steals, 6 or 7 rebounds, and shot an outstanding 0-5 from the field.

You ask, "You play ball? Why wait until now to tell us?"

Because I don't. I take up space under the basket on defense, and pick people on offense. That's all. Our strategy for playing me is this: run me back and forth until I'm gasping for breath, then leave me in to weaken the other team by inhaling all the air surrounding the court. Simple. If I can't breathe, they can't breathe, and my team (who are used to the large fish floundering on the court) dominates. Worked to perfection tonight!

Was a stupid move on my part. I've been sick all week, and the game set off constant coughing fits. I hurt all over now. Dumb. Just dumb.

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December 14, 2004

Yet Another Strange Question, Crap Alert

Very strange evening tonight at work. I kept singing "Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner," only to find myself singing "You can't throw me to the lions .... I'm Charlton Heston!" A line from Mate, Spawn, and Die, by Lard. Next I'd be singing "Lonely ships, upon the water, better save the women and children first, sail away with someone's daughter, better save the women and children first." Could This Be Magic, by Van Halen. Strange looks did abound.

My question is going to fit right in, but it's serious. I'll explain in a bit. Anyways, here it is: What is the word or term used to describe literally shitting one's guts out? I know that I know it, but I can't remember it for the life of me. I haven't lived on an actual farm in a long while. I do know that this happened to some of the cattle. I don't know if the term is different for animals than human. If so, I'd like the animal variation.

Here's why. I am on our company's advisory committee. If you have a request, a need, a problem, or whatever, you bring it to one of us on the committee. We take it to the plant manager, discuss it, and then he takes it to the owner/president of the company. The whole thing is anonymous.

I like to ask strange questions. Some are serious, but I love to word them differently than they were asked. Some are just total nonsense, but they've led into serious discussion, while I just sit dumbfounded. For instance, I brought up the fact that the water in the toilets is frequently dirty. (Someone asked me to do this, thinking I wouldn't.) Next thing you know, the committee is discussing how the city water sometimes just appears dirty. They spent five minutes on this stupid question.

Anyway, we've got a problem right now. Rather disgusting, but kinda funny. Well, funny if you don't have to use the throne in the men's bathroom. Someone is blowing them up. I kid you not, it looks like someone took a potato gun, and fired a chunk of feces at the back of the toilet. A rather large loaf. It's all over. Above the waterline. Even on the underside of the seat. Just plain old fashioned butt nasty!

The deal is that there is no way of cleaning this up, unless you feel like dealing with someone else's byproducts. So I've been asked to bring this up. Of course, no one has given me a solution, but I've figured that I'll ask for toilet brushes to be put into each bathroom. That way if someone is sick, or blows the bathroom up, they can take care of their personal mess, rather than wait for the cleaning people to show. I swear that they would need a hammer and chisel to clean out the toilets that have been bombed.

Okay, I've drifted again. My plan is to use the term or word asked for above when explaining the situation. Meeting is at 2:30 CT. I leave for work at 2. If you can help, it would be appreciated. Besides, I want to get a good laugh out of this meeting! Thanks for your input ...

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A Visit

Sunday, I had a nice visit with one of my blog-siblings; Tammi and I talked on the phone for a while. It was very cool. Speaking to her is just like reading her blog, and the conversation was just like we had known each other for a long time. Now, I really wish that I had been able to hook up with her, Teresa, and _Jon over Thanksgiving. Word of warning to you: a Bad Example Family get together is in the wind.

Thanks, Tammi! You really cheered me up!

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December 13, 2004

My Weekend As A Zookeeper

My cousin and his family went to Chi-town for the weekend, and asked me to watch the house and their pets. No problem. I've done it before. But this time was a little different!

They've got a zoo going on. Two Shih Tzus, two cats, a bird, and some fish. Most of these animals just aren't right. The dogs are always looking for contact, and one always has to be right next to you. The cats are worse. They're phsyco. Really. Ok, one isn't so bad, but he's still not right. And the bird, let's just say I hate that thing. One day it's all nice, and the next it will attack you! Thank God it's a small parrot, else I would be missing fingers!

I got there early in the day, played with the dogs, let them out a few times, then when back into town for supper. I didn't stay too long, and went back to my cousins house to stay the night. One of the dogs has to be locked up when no one is around, and I thought I'd be a nice guy and keep him out of the cage. This ended up being a mistake.

I made up a bed on the living room floor, and hit the hay. I went right out, but only for a few minutes. Sam (one of the dogs) is barking and growling at something at one of the windows. I look outside, and there is nothing. I go back to bed for another five minutes, until scenario is repeated. As a matter of fact, this is repeated all night long. Not every five minutes, but the longest I slept was a half hour.

In between barking fits, the other animals had to torment me. One cat crawled onto my side and bedded down. It took a couple of times pushing him off, and finally balling up a blanket for him to crash on, but he finally got the hint, and slept elsewhere. He's the one that isn't so bad. The other kept sticking its face in mine. I kept getting awakened by a cold nose on mine! (I had seafood for supper.) When I eventually moved onto the couch, this cat kept attacking me! I awoke to a galloping sound, and then suddenly there's a kitten slamming into my face!

At one point, I awaken to a pressure on my head. At first, I thought it was the good cat. He's tried to bed down on my head before. Then I realize that this isn't a steady pressure, it's moving. Not thinking (remember, I JUST WOKE UP), I turned my head, right into a dogs ass! Molly is the dog that always has to be touching you. Always rubbing her head on you, or her side (like a cat), or like I so rudely discovered, her ass. About this time, Sam is going into a major league barking fit, and now the bird has to join in with it's racket. I don't think I made it another hour before I gave up. It was starting to get light when I left to come back to my place and get some sleep.

And I get to do this again, for a whole week, in March. Yippeeee!

Do you know what Sam was barking at? His reflection. Idiot dog.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 01:50 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

December 11, 2004

Evil Glenn?!

Thanks to Sally, I think I figured out where Evil Glenn may blog under another name: Sir Peter Maxwell. I laughed my beauttocks off when I first read him, but then I saw this post, and my blood ran cold. It's got to be the hobo murderer himself.

Even though it is funny, in an entirely wrong way!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:54 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Pajama Time is Over ... Get Used to It!

Well, Harvey is hosting his final Carnival of the Pajamas this weekend. Thought I'd be a sport and enter the last one.

No PJ's though. Nope. Thought I'd let you check out my "anti-pajama wearing" utes. Not a good picture, because most pics I have contain me on the best side of the camera. Behind the viewfinder. This one was snapped by one of my platoon. I was guide, I'd just been thrashed* (probably for the third or fourth time of the day ... still early by the light), and I wasn't very happy. This would be my "What the hell are you doing with my camera?!" look. I definitely remember wishing that some kind of enemy would walk into the squadbay at that moment.

*Thrashing is a form of punishment excercise, enjoyed after someone screws up.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:43 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

December 10, 2004

Why Call It That?

I love Chinese food. I won't say I'm an expert in it; I can't tell you what dishes contain which veggies or anything. I just know that if it's some type of "kow," or most anything with beef, it's going to be to my liking. Tonight we ordered Chinese for lunch.

Wanting something different, I pick Mongolian Beef. Next to it, there is a red pepper that serves as a warning. Hot and Spicy. That's no warning, that's bait. And I'm hooked! I LOVE hot! The pepper was their only warning. Some of you who've read me and are familiar with Chinese food, may already be smiling.

Our food arrives, and, damn, that smells good! You can smell the heat. I'm already drooling! I pop the container open, and am immediately posed with a question: What sort of lifeform does Mongolia consider BEEF? I tell you right now, it can't be anything bovine. Oh, sure, there are a few strips of T1G type beef in there, but unless you can call fungus "cattle," the name of the dish doesn't fit.

SHROOBIES!! Yeah. My favorite. Right. We aren't talking small pieces of vile. We are talking chunks that deserve their own parking space! I swear they were crawling around, but being the big, brave boy that I am, I attempted to eat the dish anyway. I only made it through seven shrooms. By then, the earthy taste was too much. I started to pick them out. Out of a quart container, I threw away a five gallon bucket of shroobies. I knew the damn things were alive!

Other than the delightful bits of funk, this stuff was awesome! Not quite hot enough, but hey, it works.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:57 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Just to be a pain

Poor Bloodspite. Seems people are skewing the title of his groups blog.

In the spirit of Christmas, I'm going to link them as Egg Nography. :)

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:19 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

December 09, 2004


Kind of in shock. I was big into a band called Pantera. They broke up, and two members (who are brothers) formed another band called Damageplan. That's probably over now, too. via Newsday

I don't get it. I'm waiting to see what exactly this crap is about. I have a sickening feeling it's about some Pantera fan pissed about the band breaking up. Taking peoples lives over some breakup? I don't get it.

Thanks for the heads up, Lance.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:32 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

The Stock to Which I Belong

While communicating with a friend, it was pointed out that I need a talking to when it comes to honesty, specifically, when to/not to be brutally honest.

Honesty is one of those things that define me, at least I like to think so. However, it has screwed me over a couple of times. The thing is, while I may gripe about being screwed over, I am at the same time proud that I said what I thought needed to be said. But I'm starting to drigt from my original thoughts.

This talk about brutal honesty reminded me of my youngest brother. R. is the definition of brutal honesty. The man is BLUNT, and to the point. No time for niceties. And he wouldn't be my brother if he were any other way. See, my whole family is this way, with the exception of me. Of course! I like to think of myself as very tempered and tactful. My sister may say otherwise, but don't believe her: she's just jealous of the fact that I'm so nice! :)

Okay, to the story. R. and I go to visit a friend who is playing softball. Friends team is on the field, so we start visiting with those in the stands. Friends girlfriend is in the stands. R. is talking to her a bit, and then stops.

"You've got freckles!"
She gets embarassed, but he quickly adds, "You look great with your freckles."
She starts to smile, and then R. adds, "I've never seen them before! Most of the time you've got them hidden. It usually looks like you've got 'makeup by Mautz' goin' on. You look alot better without it!"

I heard she cried. The worst is that R. thought he was complimenting her.

Now that, my friends, is brutally honest!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:57 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Assault with a Deadly Burger

Found this little morsel and laughed.

the clerk at a Cumberland Farms would not allow him to pay for a hamburger while it was heating in the store microwave....

"That time of night, you tend to get people who are belligerent. They want things they can't have and we just try and do our job," said Bill Rollo, another clerk at the store.

Why the hell can't you pay for your burger as it get it's radiation OD?

"Sir, the cost of your burger will vary according to the power level, and length of time it is cooked. We are monitoring your microwave usage, and you will be charged accordingly."

I really enjoyed the fact that a news article used the word "smooshed."

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:22 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Short cakes,er ... takes

Okay, first, forHarvey, here's a peek-a-chur of the new toy at work. Sorry, dude, but it's the best I've found.... so far. What I've been impressed with is the fact that the elevator/conveyor (barely seen at the bottom of the glass panel) looks cheap, but is in fact sturdy as ... some type of really sturdy thing. It's mounted on a rail or linear bearing (the long black bar on the left side of the machine, seen in the bottom photo) that doesn't seem capable of holding it. I've bought product from the extreme right of the machine to see if it shakes the piss out of it, but it's freakin' sturdy. Impressive. I bumped my head on the glass tonight, trying to discover if it is a rail, or a bearing. I did discover that it is, in fact, EMBARASSING.

I've been going through some crappy times lately. You all know this. Not all of you know exactly what is going down, and sometime I'll tell you, I promise, but I've got to say this. You blog-siblings that have been in contact with me through this are the best. And to another Joe, you rock, dude. Thanks a million! E-mail is on the way, sibs!

Also, not a great night at work. BUT, coming home made the evening great. First, the bar was open. Not that I was intent on getting blotto. It's just the bartender is a friend that I rarely get to see. Had a couple-o-brews, and a great visit. Second, I get home, and discover that I missed a call. I was grinning listening to the message. Too cool! We'll get in touch sooon.

Finally, the "cold medicine" of the evening is Knob Creek bourbon. A twelve ounce glass, and I believe it's working. I feel no cold symptoms. As a matter of fact, I feel much of nothing. No crazy ass dreams tonight!

Oh, wait! One more finally. My site averages around 25 hits a day. Sometimes it's a bit higher, and other times much lower. I don't really check that much. Ocne a week, and occasionally after I notice that someone has linked me. My highest number: 70 something, after I enter the 14th Carnival of Recipes. Then, after I submitted a picture of a drunken guy who looks like me, I received about 50 fpr a couple of days straight. Today, thanks to Eric posting this, I hit 62! Oh, I realize that it isn't much, and that 5/8 of those hits spent no actual reading time on my blog (I've gotta come up with something that grabs attention), I just thought it cool. My blog. Viewed numerous times. Hehehe. Thanks, bro!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:45 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

December 08, 2004

A Public Service Announcement: Not For You Sca-weemish Types

It was a different time. A different place. Looked like some sort of desert.

I couldn't remember all that had happened to me, other than intense pain. I knew it wasn't good. Pain raked through my entire body, both inside and out. Hundreds of cuts and abrasions roared in agony as sweat trickled uninhibited into the wounds. There was no way of wiping the sweat away: my arms were bound tightly behind me. I think one was broken.

I had stopped fighting long ago. At first, I felt the shame. Now, I only feel the craving for death. I just want this to be over. I keep telling myself that this is only a dream, a nightmare. But everything seems to prove me wrong. I can feel the pain. I can taste the blood from my stove in face. I can smell the stench of something rotten.

One of "them" makes his way over to me. I feel at least one rib break under the hard kick to my side. He's saying something, but I can't make it out. I'm pretty sure it's English, I just can't hear much over the ringing in my skull. He grabs my hair, and twists my face to the side. (Now I know I'm dreaming... I haven't had long hair in years. I start trying to wake up.) Another man is just a few feet away, and "they" are reducing him to rags. There is something very familiar about the poor soul, but I can't see his face.

As I watch, his hand is forced open, and fingers are cut off. He just moans. No screams, just a growling moan. I'm losing it. I try to turn my head away, but once again my head is forced to the side. I try to close my eyes, only to have fingers jammed against my eyes. I open them.

One of "them" is holding a burning log. I think that "they" are going to start burning the other, touching all over with the burning stick. I'm wrong. A quick flash, a sharp gasp from the other, and his arm below the elbow is gone. Now the log is applied. "They" don't want him to bleed out. I try once again to turn away, but my face is shoved into the sand. Unable to breathe, I turn my head back to the scene. (I'm starting to cry... I can't wake up no matter how I try.) Still, the other hasn't screamed. (More goes on, but I've almost managed to escape by waking up. I'm not really aware, nor do I care about what's happening next to me.)

A warm spray, and the smell of insides brings me back to the nightmare. Now the other is screaming. I open my eyes, and find myself covered in fresh blood. The other has his guts opened up, and the entrails are laying all around the ground next to him. "They" shove something inside his abdominal cavity, and he grows quiet. I think he's passed, when he turns his face towards me. Now I'm the one screaming. Screaming and sobbing.

The other was me.

(I awoke covered in sweat, throat hurting, tears streaming ... and swore the coppery smell of blood was still filling the room.)

"Hi, everyone. My name is That 1 Guy, and that was an actual nightmare. One of my very own. (Turns for side angle) What would cause a person to dream something like this? Good question. The answer is cheap drugs. (Front angle ... big smile) No, no, you silly people! I'm not talking about any illegal substances. What I'm talking about is generic versions of your regular cold medicines. In this case, a generic version of NyQuil.

What could be the harm in taking an off brand?
(Close up on angry face) Didn't you read the above story, moron? This stuff will mess a person up!
(Smiles once again) After this nightmare, I swore the stuff off. However, due to my current fondness for feeling ill, I resorted to taking some again. The first night wasn't too bad. I had goofy dreams, but nothing serious. Last night however, I had the same nightmare as the one above. Only this time I was able to wake up earlier. Of course, not until after one of my eyelids was cut off. Don't ask me. It just happened.

Anyway, in this glorious cold and flu season, may I recommend that you use the real deal. Settle for no cheap substitutes. Curl up with a bottle of hard liquor, and drink yourself to health. Or to your health. Whatever works for you. Cheers!"

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:38 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

December 07, 2004

Moronic Ironic

A quote made by a woman seated next to me. She's talking with a guy, and they are an obvious couple, although she about bit the bar owner's head off when he said something about the pair. (They're married, but not to each other. wink, wink, nudge, nudge)

"I've done some bad things before. And I've had a really good time. *Laughs* Really good times. He knows, but he just won't let it go. He always brings it up! He's such a jackass!" (referring, obviously, to her hubbie)

I started laughing, and pissed her off.

No, I'm not judging. I just found the situation and conversation very amusing.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:59 AM | Comments (0)