First, a disclaimer: the bottle said "don't operate heavy equipment." There was no mention of ,"do not operate wood stove to capacity while on this medication if you also have 6 or more beers."
Well let's just say that hair on the back of your hands is overrated. I wouldn't suggest the burnt fingernail unless you're have a Hitler party at your house and just want it to be Dachau-rific.
It was still a good ending to celebrating the birth of our Lord all day by stuffing ourselves full of ham and potato(e) salad. Nothings says "I love Christmas" more than getting fat.
Two of my cousins came over with their significant others, and we had a good time not forcibly being nice to others. When my brother Darrell showed up it was SRO, but warm as hell. 38 outside, 78 at the rudder.
We discussed all the important stuff like women who's nipples point in different directions, and what really makes us fart, and how hard you have to hit someone to knock them out. None of that fake shit like homeless people or global warming or world starvation.
Since we had enough for a quorum, it is now decreed at the PBR that:
Fuck China- they're still communist, short and yellow.
Fuck Hoosiers- they're idiots, and too close to us. We did recognize their contribution of not letting Kentucky slide into Tennessee by sucking so bad.
Fuck the Republican party- Don't forget that the thrice divorced Newt Gingrich started the "righteous rebellion" against open democracy and pushed the country toward our parliamentary system.
Fuck Ohio- Why couldn't they have been like their sister, Indiana?
Fuck cheep beer- yes, it got us through our teens and college, but we don't have to drink it again until we retire, and since social security won't be there when we're old, we won't have to worry about that!
Hooray for boobs- We're talking women's, not the hairy man tits that are shown in the travel mags about nude beaches in Europe.
Hooray strip clubs, but fuck the new no-touch ordinance.
Dec 26, 2007
Dec 22, 2007
maybe something, maybe nothing
I was listening to J. Roddy Walston and the Business the other day, and there was a lyric in one of the songs; "There's a man who had no voice because he'd rather live without a fight than die with a choice."
Dec 17, 2007
work? No thanks
Taking a break from spreadsheets yesterday led me to you tube surfing.
I don't know how this was done and don't care, but it's pretty cool.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ckh8bRv_IE
I don't know how this was done and don't care, but it's pretty cool.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ckh8bRv_IE
Dec 14, 2007
Why does it take so long to get bored?
It's been getting busier at work, and cold out when I get home, so there's not a lot going on. Luckily I have been able to get out of work at a reasonable time, but when I get home I am relegated to small tasks in the shop, as my brother Darrell has pretty well taken the thing over finishing some bed rails for his kids.
Don't get me started.
We had a fire last night, and it was 39deg outside, and 70 on the porch. Gotta love it. Except for the part where I tried to pick up a red hot coal that had popped out with my hand. "If I pick it up REAL FAST..."
It don't work like that.
If it weren't for beer, I'd have to do stupid stuff and have nothing to blame it on.
Don't get me started.
We had a fire last night, and it was 39deg outside, and 70 on the porch. Gotta love it. Except for the part where I tried to pick up a red hot coal that had popped out with my hand. "If I pick it up REAL FAST..."
It don't work like that.
If it weren't for beer, I'd have to do stupid stuff and have nothing to blame it on.
Dec 8, 2007
Fun Friday Nights
John
Last week I had the unenviable pleasure of attending traffic school due to the fact that I like to speed. It turns out that 15 over is grounds for a speeding ticket. Who knew?
Anyway, I left work at 5:30 to get to the festive gathering of vehicular malcontents that started at 6:15.
On my invitation was the sentence,"Late arrivals will not be admitted," so I figured that I best get at it and get there about 15 minutes early. This way I would have been able to eat my pizza, and calm down from the drive. Apparently all other drivers were informed of my plans and were ordered to stall me any way possible. It was so bad that I actually considered driving on the side walk, which would allow me to cut through a parking lot on the corner and miss the light. I didn't, but I did run two red lights, and speed to beat all hell when I had the chance, and arrived at 10 after 6. Not enough time to eat, and definitely not enough time to calm down.
Having no where to sit but up front, I figured I'd sit right in front of the instructor so at least I wouldn't fall asleep during my re-education. Besides, I wouldn't have anyone knocking elbows during the class. At least so I thought.
When the traffic school marm came in five minutes late, she told everyone to fill up the first four rows and leave the back row empty. She then said," Leave the door open. We always have some people showing up late."
"What the fuck?" I told the lady sitting next to me that if she heard anything that it was my tummy rumbling.
After another twenty minutes of getting everyone signed in, the lady started handing out some papers that had lists and descriptions of different driving characteristics. The object of these was to have you evaluate your driving and come to the conclusion that you're a lousy driver and decide to change your ways. I looked on them as some sort of shopping list, and began looking through trying to find out how many more bad habits I needed in order to collect the whole set.
It turns out that I pretty much have all the traits needed to open a "Do as I say, not as I do" driving school.
In class, we went over speeding, changing lanes, reaction times, alcohol, etc. When we got to the portion on road rage, the marm was looking over the class, saying that she could pick out the ragers. I was wearing a Shit Eating Grin when she look at me and said,"nah," and went on to someone others. When asked what made them rage, answers were the normal things that irk us all- people going slow in fast areas and vice-versa, cutting people off, etc. Marm made it all around the room, and then asked if anyone else raged and what set them off. I chuckled, raised my hand. When calling on me, marm looked oddly at me. I guess the collared shirt and sweater made me look more innocent.
"Pedestrians," I said. "I work downtown and they're all over. They cross in the middle of the street trying to hold their pants up 'cause they're not wearing belts. They cross against the lights and slow down in front of you when you're trying to go."
"What do you do when that happens?" she asked in an authoritative "I've seen it all" air.
"I honk, yell out the window, pull right up to them, and oh, last week I got one with the mirror"
Buckwheat has nothing on this lady's expression. Some people in the class laughed, some gasped, on one guy in the back loudly exclaimed, "oh shit!"
"That person could have gotten your license plate number!"
"Nah, he was too busy spinning around in the street. I was barely going at the time."
She warned me to be careful and that I'm 10 times more likely to get sued today than I would have been 10 years ago.
"Shit," I thought,"I didn't know I could have gotten away with that ten years ago."
Traffic purgatory lasted four hours last Friday, and when everyone got out at ten, they all rushed for the exit from the parking lot.
I yelled at someone in the parking lot as I was leaving traffic school. Life is good.
Last week I had the unenviable pleasure of attending traffic school due to the fact that I like to speed. It turns out that 15 over is grounds for a speeding ticket. Who knew?
Anyway, I left work at 5:30 to get to the festive gathering of vehicular malcontents that started at 6:15.
On my invitation was the sentence,"Late arrivals will not be admitted," so I figured that I best get at it and get there about 15 minutes early. This way I would have been able to eat my pizza, and calm down from the drive. Apparently all other drivers were informed of my plans and were ordered to stall me any way possible. It was so bad that I actually considered driving on the side walk, which would allow me to cut through a parking lot on the corner and miss the light. I didn't, but I did run two red lights, and speed to beat all hell when I had the chance, and arrived at 10 after 6. Not enough time to eat, and definitely not enough time to calm down.
Having no where to sit but up front, I figured I'd sit right in front of the instructor so at least I wouldn't fall asleep during my re-education. Besides, I wouldn't have anyone knocking elbows during the class. At least so I thought.
When the traffic school marm came in five minutes late, she told everyone to fill up the first four rows and leave the back row empty. She then said," Leave the door open. We always have some people showing up late."
"What the fuck?" I told the lady sitting next to me that if she heard anything that it was my tummy rumbling.
After another twenty minutes of getting everyone signed in, the lady started handing out some papers that had lists and descriptions of different driving characteristics. The object of these was to have you evaluate your driving and come to the conclusion that you're a lousy driver and decide to change your ways. I looked on them as some sort of shopping list, and began looking through trying to find out how many more bad habits I needed in order to collect the whole set.
It turns out that I pretty much have all the traits needed to open a "Do as I say, not as I do" driving school.
In class, we went over speeding, changing lanes, reaction times, alcohol, etc. When we got to the portion on road rage, the marm was looking over the class, saying that she could pick out the ragers. I was wearing a Shit Eating Grin when she look at me and said,"nah," and went on to someone others. When asked what made them rage, answers were the normal things that irk us all- people going slow in fast areas and vice-versa, cutting people off, etc. Marm made it all around the room, and then asked if anyone else raged and what set them off. I chuckled, raised my hand. When calling on me, marm looked oddly at me. I guess the collared shirt and sweater made me look more innocent.
"Pedestrians," I said. "I work downtown and they're all over. They cross in the middle of the street trying to hold their pants up 'cause they're not wearing belts. They cross against the lights and slow down in front of you when you're trying to go."
"What do you do when that happens?" she asked in an authoritative "I've seen it all" air.
"I honk, yell out the window, pull right up to them, and oh, last week I got one with the mirror"
Buckwheat has nothing on this lady's expression. Some people in the class laughed, some gasped, on one guy in the back loudly exclaimed, "oh shit!"
"That person could have gotten your license plate number!"
"Nah, he was too busy spinning around in the street. I was barely going at the time."
She warned me to be careful and that I'm 10 times more likely to get sued today than I would have been 10 years ago.
"Shit," I thought,"I didn't know I could have gotten away with that ten years ago."
Traffic purgatory lasted four hours last Friday, and when everyone got out at ten, they all rushed for the exit from the parking lot.
I yelled at someone in the parking lot as I was leaving traffic school. Life is good.
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