It's less of a resolution as it is a wish list.

I hope I'm not arrested for vehicular manslaughter.
Please don't let me punch a professor.
I would like to not answer the woodstove when my phone rings.
Throw in some nookie, and it's a deal.

that's about it.

Quiet please for the movie

Getting pretty hectic at work with the onset of the new semester and all. I think I'm going to write down a lot of the shit that goes down at the end of the day at home and then transfer it to the blog as I have more time at eleven PM than I do right now.

It's getting fun.

in other news:
I went bowling after work yesterday, then came back and boxed a coworker on the Wii. I now know how Brittany Murphy died of cardiac arrest.

Nobel, schnobel

I listened to O'Bama's speech to the Nobel committee, and holy cow. I liked it. Not only was it delivered well, but it pretty well laid everything out. If you get an opportunity and 36 minutes, it's a good listen.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RSaoLPXjmyM&feature=related

It's your life dude, you decide

I almost sent a bicyclist to one of Ted's local contemporaries today.

You see, we have bicycle lanes on our one-way streets here in the Ville, and it's great. Them bastards can have their lane, and I can have mine. Well, one rider apparently got "left foot on red" while playing traffic twister today and came out of the bike lane and started riding in the car lane. This I could not abide and started riding his ass. It was at this time that Mr. "I have a force field around my bike" flipped me off. WRONG MOVE!

I got around him and rode (mostly) in the lane next to him, easing him over ever so gently at 20mph. I kept getting the bird, and he kept getting pushed back into the bike lane.

I stopped at the next intersection for the red light. He flipped me off again and busted the light.

They wonder why there's no love for them.

Hoosiers, can't live with 'em, can't shoot 'em

I almost had a cement truck jammed up my tailpipe due to a stupid hoosier in traffic. Now that they're actually trying to have me killed, I must quote Doc Holliday from Tombstone. "That's it darlin' I really hate him."

what an awsome weekend to go to the lake, drink, and fish

Wait a minute...HEY, THOMAS-

I wish I were three again so I could get away with this shit

My uncle died last week, and the viewing was this last Sunday.
Little Johnny was running around, so I picked him up and walked toward the open casket. I asked him if he knew who was in the casket, and Johnny smiled, pointed at the crucifix and loudly stated, "I see Jesus!" He then pointed down at my uncle, and in the same loud voice said, "and he's dead!"
I buried my face in his jacket so people couldn't see me laughing, and then walked outside and proceeded to laugh so hard I heeped.

Uncle funeral part deux:
I was one of the pall bearers on Monday along with my brothers Darrell and three of my cousins. After the service at the Funeral home at the part where everyone walks past the open casket to either say goodbye or fuck you, each one of my uncle's grand kids put a golf ball in the box so he could play a round when he gets to Valhalla. Well, they migrated to the space under the bunting when the funeral guys moved the casket onto the box gurney, so that when we picked it up to take ole unc on his last car ride they decided to move.
Now, when I say three of my cousins along with the Darrells, you have to understand that my cousins are 6'5", 6'1" and 6'6", and my brothers are 5'7" and 5'5", so there was really no parity that would allow for evenly lifting or moving the casket, so as we made the way down the steps everyone could hear the brbrbrbbrbbrbrbrbrb of the golf balls rolling around in the metal box.

At the cemetery I decided to have some fun. I made sure that I was on the lower back corner, and as we walked, I gently lifted and lowered the casket so that there was a constant brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbr of the balls rolling front to back and side to side.

You should have seen everyone that knew about the balls trying to cover their smiles.

I love me.

Fuck you Arlene, and fuck Santa Claus too!

AS IF WE WEREN'T COOL ENOUGH ALREADY

Cousin Luke and I have decided that because we know we're going to lose our bees in the spring do to a lack of stores and no queen, we're going to make a still for personal use.

We have the skills.
We have the fuel.
We have a cooperage nearby.

Now, obviously we can't sell the stuff, but I'm sure there'll be enough to go around.

IT DOESN'T GET SPIT INTO THE STOVE, ASSHOLES.

hell yeah

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=20Of_mna-Rs

God I love this shit

I have a confession to make: I read the advice column in the Curious Urinal. They make my life seem normal, and I thank them.

This morning's had a bit of a twist. The headline reads "Beau Abhors Fiancee's Career" which could be about anyone, anywhere. Perhaps her job keeps at work too late. Perhaps there are guys at her workplace hitting on her and making rude suggestions. Perhaps both.

Let's get to the good stuff.

"I am currently engaged to an exotic dancer, and we recently found out she is pregnant. Times are tough right now, and this is the problem: I was laid off but receive unemployment while I search for a new job. My fiancee recently told me that she wants to dance more and in different venues to gain the much needed money."

You have to admit that this guy has shat and fallen back in it.

Since when was stripping a career?

FUEGO!!!

I reattached the flue last night, and test fired the heart of the Pot Belly Republic.
A note to the gentle readers to sweep off the top of any stove after a construction project before making the inside of it hot. I found out what 50 years of roof crud smell like when it burns.

Duraroc needs to go up over the stove, as I did start to smell the OSB off-gassing (or was it me?) as the fire heated up.

Seven beers and one Shawshank Redemption later, I let the fire die down.
I only burned myself once, and the hair that grew back on my hand while I was on vacation is now burned off.
Everything is normal. Well, as normal as I'll let it get.

For all those playing "how's andy hurt- the home game"

As I was putting the last layer of tar over some nail heads, it started to drizzle, but I don't care. The fucking job is done.

I used all three rolls of shingle, and one of roofing felt. 500 nails, 8 pieces of plywood, and 6 2x4s later, it's done.

Injury report:

two knuckles hit with the hammer, a gigantic bruise on me leg from when the plywood fell on my thigh, one inadvertent head-butt of a 2x4, and three cut fingers, the last of which occurred when I was finished with the job and was taking tools off the roof (machined metal is sharp). This is beside the fact that I put my leg up to the knee through the roof while stripping the rotted parts.

Note to those out there unaccustomed to work- don't use fingernail brush on finger with busted skin from a hammer blow. Ouch.

You all should have been here. The level of profanity alone would have been worth the trip.

Hey Dipshit- Where do you work again

I was reading about the test flight of the Ares X1 rocket today. The interviews were about some of the hassles of stacking a rocket that's 327 feet tall, and how they had to find ways to transport large sections from all over the country. Then I got to the last line of the interview, where a NASA OFFICIAL said, and this pains me, "It's really unprecedented for NASA, building a rocket this big."

Except for the ten year long Saturn project that launched 12 Saturn Vs, each of which stood 363 feet tall, and weighed over 6 million pounds.
DOH!

You work at NASA, right? Did they hire you last week right out of Lived Under a Rock University?
I'm pretty sure that if I worked for an agency or company that was responsible for mankind's crowning achievement, I'd kinda tuck that into my "don't forget me" folder.

But that's just me.

bickety-bam, the motherfucker's rubble

The slumlord came into the store today, and by happenstance we got onto the topic of t-shirts. He told me of a place here locally to get shirts for the PBR. This shall be done next week while I'm on vacation.
Speaking of that, I may not be electronically available for a while unless I head over to the Wolf's.

I'm sure there will be some interesting stories about next week, as I'm replacing the roof over the back porch and downstairs bathroom. No-0ne can hurt andy the way andy can hurt andy.

In other news:
If the bitch seems a little off her rocker on the first date, run away. I had a nice loud "conversation" over the phone today. I don't think I've used the phrase "clingy, controlling bitch" in a while. It was good to dust that one off.

You don't know her, and I haven't spoken of her before, as I wanted to see where this one was going before mentioning anything. Turns out it went right into the toilet.
Who doesn't like strip clubs?
She don't.

Gouge out my eyes!

I went to k and wal marts last night searching for t-shirts that I can get screen printed for the PBR. All I could find was pocketed tees.
Look around this corner- BAM! There was a pack of underwear with a model on the front with his fucking junk sticking so far out that it almost poked me in the face.
On the other side of the display- BAM! A pack of banana hammoks that had a picture of a white and a black guy on it. I didn't even know that fruit of the loom was into mixed race underwear fetishes.
Everywhere I looked were packages of guys packages. Why were they all at my eye level?
Calgon take me away!

I don't like how this is going

Since Cousin Luke's hand was bruised, he didn't bowl. Being the trooper he is he did come and drink beer while watching Camper Dan take me two games to one. Who knew you have to hit the head pin?
Oh well, the beer was cold and the conversation was standard D&F jokes.

Finished the day with a fuego shooting the breeze with Fireplug.
Not a bad day.

I'm sure your breath smells nice

I almost hit a jackass drunk fucking hobo that stopped and then started to cross the exit of the parking lot. I came to a stop, and his red eyes were trying to stare at me.

When he turned his head forward again, I honked the horn and made him jump out of his skin.

Dude, don't try to play asshole with me, as I will quickly turn it into a game of Fuck you. I will win, and you'll still be sucking mouthwash in order to get drunk.

Sigh. We knew this day would come.

Cousin Luke handed me my ass today bowling. He took the first two games, each by twenty to thirty pins, this despite the fact that his ball and the head pin are at odds and don't like to meet. I did get the third game, but that was just a bonus as he had the day wrapped up.
In the series stands at me being two to one over the last three Sundays.
I'm really liking this Sunday league we have. I wish the rest of you jackasses could join us some time.
The reason he took me today is that we are both getting back to our usual averages, in which he pretty well always beat me when we played league, but now we don't have all the other league BS to deal with. Just grip it and rip it. The bar is still stocked, and you don't have to deal with others getting in your damn way.

There were a couple of cuties in other lanes, and some fat mother fuckers to boot. After all, it is a bowling alley.

There's always next week.

Operation Weight Gain

OWG is no doing very well. I've been eating the shit out of some food and have only gained a pound and a half. This on top of the beer I drink, and one would think that I would be huge.
I have decided to take drastic measures. I went to McDonald's, and am current shoving a sausage bisquit and a chicken busquit into my mawl and washing it down with a couple containers of milk.

I will keep you posted as to my success.

Maybe it's a good sign

We haven't had an official meeting of the Pot Belly Republic since July. It's finally cool enough here to warrant one, but the weather hasn't been cooperating, so I'm looking at not burning in September this year. The winds were too high yesterday and don't seem to be abating yet, so I'm not risking flying embers.

Friday, Oct 2 looks like a good candidate, and we should have enough citizens for a quorum.
New laws like, "Must bring something fried," and "Don't ask, just bring beer."

there will, however, be no rule six.

Bottom rail on top now massuh.

T-bone and I bowled two games on our lunch hour today. I bowled a 129, and then couldn't close a frame until the tenth on the second game. 93...ouch.
Someones hexed my ball.

However, I did gutter two balls on different attempts to pick up the spare 7 pin where the ball went into the gutter and bounced out knocking the pin down. Not legal in real league play, but fine for lunch league.

We just said fuck it.

I came over to Cousin Luke's house and told him we were going bowling. He said that he had to do some electrical work at his place of employment. So, we did a bit of that and then we went bowling.
I tell you, I'm starting to really enjoy bowling with him on Sundays. I took him two for three again with my first game coming out as a 209. Of course, my next game was a 114, but there may have been alcohol involved. The third game was a 137, which wasn't too shabby considering my league average was 113.
Maybe I should only bowl on Sunday afternoons.
Maybe I should make sure Luke is good and liverously lubed up before we start. Perhaps a medium.
I'm looking forward to our Sunday one-team league we're getting started up with my cousins.

I don't need Rob Zombie to have fun. Just to drive fast.

Lord, don't do this to me

I stepped into the barbershop today while on lunch break, and the barber, who was finishing his cigarette stuck his head in the door and said, "there's some commotion at your store. you might want to get over there."
Sweet baby cakes! A tussle with someone trying to steal. I'm in!
I ran out the door and when I get to the door of the store, one of the employees was trying to pull this 50 plus year old woman back into the store. I grabbed her arm, but then realized that I could get the ever-loving shit sued out of me, so I let go and just started walking next to her as she made her slow escape. As we strolled, she kept talking about how the man in the store broke her finger and that she was going to press charges. I retorted loudly with, "What did you do? Why have the police been called?"
Naturally she kept saying that she "didn't do nuffin."
People out and about were starting to stare, so I figured I could coax it gently out of her by yelling, "What did you do? Why have the police been called?"
This kind exchange took place repeatedly as we ambled about a block down the street.
The employee at the door caught up with us and motioned the campus 5-0s to come out way. When they got there and started asking her questions, I gently strolled back to the barber shop.
I got my blood up for a fight, but just wound up escorting some old lady to a cop car. Damn the luck.
At least it's never boring.

I need out.

'tis a new day

I was listening to the radio this morning on the way in to work and I realized something. I need to get out of town and do something different.
I want to road trip.
Now, people have been telling me where to go for years, but I'm not sure where I want to go. Somewhere I've never been, something I've never done.
I'm sure the police will let you know what that was.

Shut the fuck up, Donnie

Cousin Luke and I returned from bowling, and I figured I'd say something about it as soon as I climbed out of his refrigerator.

I was cutting grass earlier today and decided to stop after cutting the front yard. I don't care what the back yard looks like. If the neighbors do, then they can drag their retired asses and lawn mowers to my yard during the work week while I'm, uh, working.

Any who, I was stacking firewood with a bunch of shit on my mind when I decided, "fuck it. I'm calling Luke, and we're bowling."

We agreed on a time, and bam! Bring on the corruption. Did you know they sell beer at bowling alleys? Well, three games, several more beers than that and one hour later, we were done humiliating ourselves on the hardwood.

I started out with a gutter ball, and got worse from there. I did manage to stay on my feet and not drop the ball, so apparently therapy works.

The hard part is that I took Luke two out of three games. Hard for him at least.



It was heaven. No one yelling, no one bitching, and the pins were still telling me to fuck off. It's like I never left.

Turns out they still sell beer. When that ends, we gots trouble.

I hit you once, I'll do it again

I was in a fender-bender a couple of days ago down by the other location of work. A car was stopped asking directions, and then got moving. The person in front of me made a good first effort at going, and then second guessed herself into me tagging the corner of her car with the corner of mine. Apparently she wasn't given the notification that I own the road.
I got out to ask her if she was alright. She immediately told me that she was in an accident last year and had back problems.
Fuck. Shit. Dammit. Here come the lawyers.
She then asked me to call the cops while she called her doctor and her lawyer.
Shit. Fuck-fuck-fuck.
It turns out that the lawyer was from the old accident, and she just wanted to find out if a new claim was filed if it would mess the lawsuit. Of course she told me this after I said, "Let me know what your lawyer says so that I can get one. I won't be cowed."

It turns out that both of us have the same insurance company, and that I'll probably pay out of pocket less than my deductable.
I'll take that.

Every fucking time something goes on, they close my end of town

Fuck the Iron Man competition, and fuck Mayor Squirmy Assholebramson. Every time there's a foot race in this town, they close down the main corridor to the south end and my neighborhood.

For the iron man competition yesterday they had three of the main corridors in the city shut down until about 1AM this morning. No-one could get anywhere on cross streets as cars packed every other available route.

"It's only once a year, dude, and it keeps the Ville on the map," I hear you saying.

Well, I still had to go into work, or try and fail in my case.

Next week, we have the bi-annual mayor's walk, bike and run. The mayor does this twice a year, on Memorial and Labor days to promote health. Now, I'm all for healthy living, but I'm sure he doesn't take into account the instances of road rage and acts of wanton-endangerment that go with closing down the parkway a second weekend in a row. Not to mention the high blood pressure.

Southern parkway near my neighborhood gets closed about 8 times a year, and with there being 347 more days in the year doesn't seem like much, but it's all between April and September.

I would kill you all for a sandwich

I had to drop stuff off to Jed Clampet College's redneck stepchild's bookstore today out off dickme highway today, and I must have seen about twenty pair of truck nuts as I drove out there.
Some dumb mutherfucker stopped at the blinking yellow light at the entrance to a firehouse. STOPPED. Sweet bucket of shit. I called him everything but a gentleman and a scholar. It turned out that his window was open, and he looked in his rear view mirror and then purposely slowly started. I got around to his passenger side at the next actual red light, and he started yelling at me.
You know me. That I cannot abide, so let the profanity games begin!
I tried to remind him of his uncertain heritage due to his mom's affinity for farm animals.
He called me a little son of a bitch. I told him he was right, but that he still preferred the accompaniment of males and the oral pleasure he brings them.
We parted ways after I rode in his blind spot for two miles before I reached the highway.

Don't fuck with me on the road. I know how to handle a vehicle dip shit. My car's paid for. If you're in my lane, you might just buy me a new one.
BTW-It wasn't metaphorical; I truly meant for you to go home and fornicate with your mother.

first day of class

8:09 in the morning, got a bunch of stuff done and charging the phone. The gate opens at 8:30 and the race begins.

Remember: Murder is illegal. Thus the phrase, "to beat within an inch of his life."

Let Ted have 'em after that.

Lots O' Hours

It's been a bit hectic in the land of Kais here lately. I did the overnight this last saturday, and when I came home I found I couldn't sleep, so I showered and came back to work.
I'm only on 14 hours a day right now, but it will go up, and that's just the breaks.

I did get a paper cut underneat my thumbnail today, and I apologize to Thomas who had to hear what I said as it happened.

Two more weeks of this stuff, then I'm getting a load of bricks delivered, and I'm building a clock tower on top of our shop so I can shoot some motherfuckers when I'm pissed off.

Masterbation ain't cutting it anymore as a stress reliever, and they don't like it when I do it in the front of the store, so I may have to result to hookers, which sucks because it'll blow my budget.

I need new friends

I was helping cousin Luke yank a refrigerator out of his basement yesterday, and we came to the conclusion that I need to branch out and make new friends.
Everytime Yankee has come to town, something terrible has happened.
1) Brother darrel got married (I know he came to town for the wedding, but the thread still holds).
2) He was in town, but left to escape the hurricane and the ensuing tree damage.
3) He was in town and brought and ice storm with him and the ensuing almost total power outages and tree damage
4) He was in town and we got almost seven inches of rain in 75 minutes, which brought the nice flash floods and power outages, which is why I was helping Luke in his basement.

Do you know what usually calms me down when shit like this happens? A nice trip to the cabin to go fishing, which I can't do anymore because of that mother-fucking-cockass-goathumping-elephant sperm gargling-dickhead Thomas bringing his lightening striking bad luck to Boston, Ky.

I'm glad these two don't travel in the same circle, as I would put it 5to1 that we would be hit by locusts.

Closed until further notice

Seeing as they are still pumping water out of many of the buildings on campus, most places where you find professors are closed.
It's kinda hard to do my job, but it's also relatively quiet on campus which is eerily odd for this time of year. It's like a Life After People episode on the History channel.

At Kaiser Kastle the box fans in the basement have pretty well dried up the floor, so I should be fine.
I didn't lose any appliances, unlike cousin Luke.

Busy, gotta go.

Eight days a week...

I'm on SDAW from now to the end of august, so if you need something, it should've been scheduled by now.
I have three woodworking projects to complete, so I'll need my bench.

In other news, White Castle's plastic benches are very cold if you don't get the back of the kilt under the twig and berries.

Got the pictures

We went and picked up the stove and all else we wanted from the U-boat on saturday. I'm bummed, but it wasn't my house that burned, and no one was hurt, so what the heck.

I had to say goodbye to john's lures:

I decided that out of spite I would whizz all over the toilet seat in Das Aus Haus since I was the one that made it. Of course, 25 minutes later I had to go drop a dook. My damn luck.

It's been about ten years

I was cutting the front grass, and I had only one more swath to go when BAM! A wasp stung the back of my left calf. Holy shit that hurt. It felt like someone shot a nail into my leg.
After jumping around in the yard doing what I'm sure looked like a mixture of a rain and square dance, I went inside and put some baking soda on the sting and then some benadryl cream and then finished the front yard.

Then I walked around the house carrying bug spray rapping my knuckles on the siding to find what bugs had what nests where.
I won't be bothered by wasps again.

Well, that's a fine how do you do

I was on campus earlier, and my heels started to hurt as I walked, almost like they were being twisted as I put my foot to pavement. When I lifted one of my feet I noticed that I had worn the heel of the shoe down to the point that there were holes in the rubber, and my steps had started wearing away at the vertical reinforcement.
Now, I don't buy the best footwear available as my foot is only a size five, so the styles are limited, and I many times don't pay attention to how I am clad when I delve into something. I once ruined a pair of khakis by working on a car in them, never thinking that something can get smudged up. Don't worry, I'm sure that with therapy I'll get through this.
The part about this whole thing is that when I grabbed my other black shoes, they had the same damn holes in them. Pieces of shit anyway.
Then I started to look at the mileage.
Each day I walk about 2-3miles while at work on campus. If the shoes are rotated and only worn 2 or 3 times a week, that means they only get about 6-9 miles of wear. I bought both pair of shoes the same day in January. That means that you multiply 2-3 by 4by6, carry the seven, divide by 5, the sum is greater than pi, and then you come to only about 145 miles per pair of shoes. That's deplorable. Can't the Chinese, Vietnamese, or Puerto Ricans construct better shoes than this?
I'm on four pair a year, and it's starting to irk me.

I then saw a man who had no legs, and I thought, "Damn- he has to save some serious money on shoes."

No one can hurt Andy the way Andy can hurt Andy

I spent most of Saturday with my brothers Darrell moving appliances. I am covered in bruises. Well, at least the parts that weren't open wounds are bruised.
I don't know how some of these people shoe-horn their fucking washers and dryers into the spots they do, but holy mother of fuck that shit was tedious.
We got it done, and I got back home and finished by about 8PM.

Yesterday I replaced the pads and rotors on the Manry. The pads that I got the first time were crap, with the shims falling off, and the pads themselves cracked and falling apart. Add that to the crazy amount of dust that they produced, and you wind up with a very dirty job.
When I was cleaning my arms I noticed that they were really getting sore the more I scrubbed. It was then that I realized I was trying to scrub off bruises. Ouchitty ouch ouch.

Texas part III

Let's see...where was I?
Oh, that's another thing about my experience in Texas- if there's room for a band to play Texas-style country, they're going to have one there. If the available space is limited, then it's just a guy with a guitar.

Another thing I noticed was that everybody has a gift shop. I think even the hot-dog vendors sold Texas paraphernalia.

It was a pretty packed three days in and around San Antone, but two places will always stick out in my memory:
Enchanted rock and Luckenbach. One place you sit on top of the world and listen to it sing to you, and the other you sit in the shade, drink beer, and listen to guys play guitars and sing songs about their moms, kids, dads, granddads, trucks and beer.
I loved every minute of it.

Ms. Faney drove me everywhere, which was excellent, due to the amount of power driving has to ruin my chi.
Saturday night we ate steaks cooked over wood coals at the house of a friend of hers.
The hour or so before hand found her friend's husband and I drinking beer in the 105 deg heat in front of a fire, proving that it doesn't matter what the temp is. Men likey the beer and fire.

Faney's friend made some hellacious sides, including a nice salad that contained what was probably the third pound of Avocado I ate while I was there.

I commented that I liked the neighborhood, and that I could like it there. One thing changed my mind, however. Their neighbor had just returned from a trip, and someone asked her, "Did you have any Scorpions in your house when you got back?"
*Record-scratching sound here*

Scorpions in your house? I can understand someone asking if you had water in your basement after a heavy rain, if your power was out after a storm, if you slipped and broke your ass in the snow, but scorpions in your house? How do you find out, other that walking around barefooted or blindly putting your hand in weird crevices (s&m joke here)?

All things said, I could live there, especially during the winter. I heard it gets to 40 degrees there. Everyone I met was nice, everywhere I went was clean, and the weather wasn't that bad.

I am definitely going back.
Depending on what goes on here, I might look to relocate, and I'm sure as hell not moving back to Charlotte.


In other news, I finished the book Deke! and am looking to read another. Not that there's a dirth of books in the Kaiser's realm, but they're all history stuff. I'm looking to read something funny. Any suggestions?

Now that I have a few more minutes

I don't think I gave my San Antonio trip due justice by the small explanation I gave earlier.

Feeling like August in the ville, everyday was over 100 degrees. As the plane approached S.A., I noticed that there was scant areas of green. The grass hadn't crunched under my feet since last fall, so that was a wakeup call to let me know that I wasn't in Kansas anymore.

Ms. Faney and I went to one of the coolest bars ever. Called the Buckhorn Saloon (since something like 1883), they have more and different stuffed animals and mounts than one could expect to see in a lifetime, including a stuffed elephant head and a girraf from head to shoulder.
Add the singing cowboy to the Alamo light microbrew, and it makes for a fine experience as far as watering holes go. They had their own museum to the Texas Rangers (the ones like chuck norris, not the ones that have sucked since trading A-rod), but we felt that the $16 buck a piece for admittance could be spent in a better fashion, so we passed on that and spent one quarter of the cost of a ticket on another beer.

We did a quick run through of the Alamo, which turned out to be more of "look at the tourists looking at the Alamo," but it was fine, and enough for me to remember it.

We visited a couple of really cool towns, both given German names from the German immigrants that founded them. One was called Frediricksburg, and the other's name is Gruene. The natives pronounce the the latter's name in the English version, Green.
I never knew that Texas had that many German immigrants, but two things were apparent:
1) they were prods, as I didn't see Catholic church one in the towns
b) they sure built some sturdy-ass buildings. Fburg had a mostly hand hewn limestone, and Gruene still had it's wooden Mennonite gathering building.
Fredricksburg is more of an antique shop and yuppie store main street, but that's where I got the BLTA, and it was good.
Gruene had one really awesome thing that Fburg didn't- free wine tasting. The glass of Pinot Grigio I had was excellent. Not to rough. Then I had a beer while listening to some live music outside.

More later. I have a beer in my near future.

That shit's like Africa Hot

I returned yesterday from my swarre into the heart of Texas, and I can tell you that I do like the place.

We ate breakfast tacos, lunch tacos and dinner tacos! You can serve anything in a tortia wrap as long as you have the right spices.

We went tubing on the Comal river, and climbed enchanted rock. It's been a long time since I've had that much fun, but then again, a lot of it has to do with the company you keep.

It started out interestingly enough with the check-in at the airport, blah, blah, blah. Then on the leg from Memphis to S.A. the attendant announced Pilot so-and-so, and the first officer, and I'm not making this shit up, Renko Snorin. I'm not to sure about the spelling. Perhaps it's Norwegian for "laugh at me."

Thanks to one of my goodestest friends, Miss Fo-Faney for allowing me to foul her couch for several days and for being the best tour guide ever.

L.A.- via Omaha

Thursday through Sunday.

This has never happened to me before

Tody I startde dringking at noon. Hjon came in at 3, and t5hen the taps opened. Did you know that cops aren't looking for drunks at fuor>?
I just at e dinner at my cousing lukes. He made staekes and corn on the cob.

mmmmm.
Who'
s driving?

Gotta love Winston Churchill

"Where you stand depends on where you sit."

I have a story that I can't write out here that is, well, pure Kaiser.

In other news:

I was walking on campus yesterday wearing my kilt, and I cut across the grass to get onto a different sidewalk. Well, there was a bunch of clover, and therefore were a bunch of bees in this certain patch of grass.

Circle one of the two options of what bees do when startled: fly up / fly down.

If you chose fly up, then you have already ascertained the origin of the frantic dance with which I proceeded to entertain all comers.

Now, one would think that a bee-keeper would not move about frantically after having startled some bees, but the word I would use to describe that notion would be WRONG!!

Not only was I dancing, but when I felt one on the inside of my leg close to the round brothers, I flapped the front of my kilt a couple of times to get them out.

I bet if I had any pride at all, that would have been a difficult ordeal.

It's Sunny! and hot as shit!

Well, summer fucking arrived yesterday with 92 degrees and 60% humidity. Heat index of 102!

Today, not much better, but I HAD to get into the garden.

Now, I don't like cold and winter, but seriously- do we need to go from 70 deg and rainy to sunny and a hundred?

I realize that I don't live in the hottest place in summer or the coldest in winter, but is it too much to ask for a little fall and spring thrown into the mix?

In better news-

I picked a whole bag of green beans, and one cucumber. One dumb fucking cucumber is growing in the chicken wire fence with two halves bulging aroung the wire. I think I'm going to cut it off tomorrow and eat it while I'm working in the garden tieing up tomato plants.

I don't want to wish my life away, but I'm itching to go to Texas and maybe get a big-ole steak.

Biblical Proportions

This weather has been about seven kinds of fucked up here over these last couple months. Cold at night, and hot during the day? C'mon- I don't live in the desert (even though I'm going through kind of a dry spell)!

How about you hold off the rain long enough several times a week so that I can weed my garden?

I had everything laid out so that we could get into the beehive last night and put on the second brood chamber, but the wind picked up, so we had to cancel that.

All of this bullshit weather means that things I did before as a hobby have now become chores due to the fact that I have to pack all the shit that I used to do for fun into the few hours a week that I can get them done.

Yeah, at least we're not having a drought, but give me a fucking chance!

Saturday it rained hard enough that I saw water running down my yard toward the house (the burm works!). One half hour later, the sun came out and it was humid as shit, and the garden was too wet to work in.

O well, at least it's not ice.

I'm a little worried about where this is headed for the winter.

I'm going to be the whitest white man in Texas

I'm going to visit Fo-Faney in San Antonio in early July, so I might want to start wearing shorts. Of course, that would require the weather to cooperate, and that just ain't happenin' right now.
It was 54deg last night. FUEGO IN JUNE!!!
This change of climate is playing hell on the garden. Speaking of the garden- I'm going to stay up and shoot the furry fucking head off of whatever is eating my pepper plants. I bet it's the chipmunks that I've seen running around.

I'll need to weed the garden this weekend. I have tomatoes, and the cukes are starting to come in.

first good weekend in a while

We actually had continually decent weather this weekend, so I worked on my car's brakes, cut the grass, weeded the garden, helped our lupine friend with Tardo's car, and even managed to get a nap in.
I thought about going to the lake on Saturday night, but I chose what I thought was the wiser path and stayed home, only to get stuck in traffic around the overpass on Central Ave.
There was traffic around Churchill, baseball playoffs at the corner of third and central, Kenny Chesney playing Papa john's stadium, and a regional Track and field meet down Floyd street.
Three of the four events were within a quarter mile of each other, and all vying for the same parking areas. I almost ran into a guy holding a cardboard "parking $5" sign who was standing in the middle of the street.
There was an entire row of guys penises (giganto ford and chevy trucks that have never seen the farm) in a lot. I thought about coming back with some spray paint.

I don't know who thinks this shit up, but it sounds like someone ain't talkin' to someone.

You say third reich as if you believe there will be another

Bluegill round dos

For those who have read our lupine friend's latest entry about the accidental fishermen, but we're going to do it again this weekend.
'Mon up to daville and you can join. I have extra cots.

Best watch your shit, asshole!

I have my brother Darrell's truck today, so you spodestrians best watch your shit and get out of the way. Running over assholes may not be very Christian, but they didn't have large vehicles back in Jebus's day, so there's really no set precedent.

All I need is chickens

We got the bees in yesterday, which will definitely help my expanded garden.
6 big beef tomatoes
8 roma tomatoes
3 cherry tomatoes
40 green beens
3 cukes
2 red bell peppers
and the kicker:
over 200 hot peppers.

If I catch that grey cat getting into my garden again, it's going to be an ex-cat. If you have a pet, keep it in your own fucking yard. If an animal gets into my yard, it's mine to deal with, by any means I choose.

SOMEONE PLEASE NUKE INDIANA

Driving in the rain in Louisville is bad enough because people think it'll hurt their car, but add hoosier driver to rainy conditions and you wish you traveled by helicopter.

If I had more time I would describe in full detail what happened, but for those few who know my driving habits, in order this is what tried to jump out in front of me: Black BMW with Ohio State sticker in the window. He almost got to taste Camry out of pure spite and loathing.

BMW with an Ohio State sticker. I bet the sonovabitch even votes republican (sorry ted).


I almost got into a wreck going over the bridge. I almost got into a wreck at the bottom as I came off the bridge. I almost got into a wreck trying to park. I almost got into a wreck trying to get BACK to the bridge.

It didn't help that our food was late, and we got the ugly waitress. Again.


Whoever said that "pigeons fly upside down over Indiana because tain't nothin' worth shitin' on" was correct.

You know why Kentucky doesn't fall into Tennessee? Because Indiana sucks.

You know why Hoosiers don't eat M&M's? Too hard to peel.

A hoosier hated Kentucky so he threw a stick of dynamite accross the Ohio River. A Louisvillian lit it and threw it back.

A Hoosier asked a Kentuckian to help them with a puzzle of a rooster where all the pieces looked alike. When the Kentuckian went over to the Hoosier's house, he discovered that the Hoosier had dumped a box of Cornflakes on the table.

Do you know what the best thing to come out of Indiana is? I-65.

Do you know why Indianapolis is in the middle of Indiana? No other state wanted it.



Please, oh please Edward Teller, help me!

B.S.

Some stupid idiots in the street really pissed me off yesterday, and I was writing about it when something happened at work and kind of put shit in perspective, so sorry for not posting for a while.

I lengthened the garden again, so now it's about 30x12. I'm going to plant the shit out of peppers and roma tomatoes for salsa (that I'm not going to let Shawn cook the hamburgers in).

NEW RULE

Dear people who want to be hipsters and have almost no vocabulary:
If you don't speak German, you can't use ueber. Ever.
I was at Borders the other day and saw a Thesaurus for $2.95.

"On Steroids" is starting to get on my nerves too.

In conversation is one thing, but to write it down? In a newspaper?
Congratulations. You just showed the reading public that you can't write. I put you right up there with the likes of the sports, ahem, reporters that refer to athletes as products.

Kill the language on your own time, not on mine.

sincerely,
Mr. Hand

If you make it a two-fer, yer gonna get hurt.

It's drizzling out currently, and on my way into work, there was an accident that was holding up traffic. The usual go-ten-feet-and-stop routine, which lead to actuall continual driving at a slower speed that increased over time, but the cars are still pretty close together.
We got up to a pretty good clip when right in front of me, a green Honda Accord cuts me off, apparently after cutting off the 18 wheeler loaded with tree trunks next to me.
The son of a bitch then immediately puts on his brakes so he doesn't hit the car in front of him.
At this point our vehicles are about three feet apart at 45 mph.

I had my mind made up that if we had hit, I was just going to keep on going and push his ass into the middle lane where all the big trucks were.

Tain't much going on

I cut my finger instaling a metal flap on the stove at the PBR.

Almost purposefully hit a spodestrian (you're welcome, cousin Luke- use at will).

Diagnosed an overheating problem on the car of a young lady at work.

Cleaned up a little for the Yooj coming to town tomorrow.

I have Theory of a Dead Man and Katie Perry fighting to become the supreme ear virus in my head.

I meant the thing about the teddy bear, well, Ted.

Gotta get this knife holder:

I love lazy fishing

Friday night I caught a channel cat using a treb and chicken livers. It was very hard to catch. What you have to do is bait and cast your line, then the pole in the rod holder and go up to the cabin to drink beer and watch the movie, The Big Labowski.

In the morning, there will be a fish on your line, and it looks like this:

gone fishing

Tomorrow and Saturday I'll be at the lake with cousin luke visiting John's lures.

I messages will be listened to when left on the phone.

Ah- Springtime

Springtime is when you don't have to have a raging fire on the back porch and then freeze as you pee in the yard.

God bless beer and good friends. One of which I have.

OW, FUCKITY-FUCKITY-FUCK-FUCK THAT HURT!

cut my finger with the hatchet last night while splitting shakes in the basement and now have a splint and a bandage on my finger.
No stitches, just a bit of blood.

I only had two beers.

I thought I typed like shit before.

kaboom!

I'm up here in Indy, and we picked up Cousin Luke's son's car. We at at Cheeseburger in Paradise for lunch and then got the car. We went to Crackers to watch some good comedy.
We had fun, and during the main event (after I cheezed of plenty of times) the main comic Tammy Pescatelli asked someone what the problem was, an a young lady at the table next to me said "Someone shit their pants."
She said "I smell it too!" and then went into a rant about smelling farts.

I stopped a comedy show and redirected the comedy.

I love me.

Time doth disapear

My older brother Darrell has a birthday Friday. If you want, e-mail or call him and let him know how happy you are that our parents were drunk one night in June 1970 that culminated in the bundle of whatever in March 38 years ago.

Like him or hate him, he does have a big truck, so he's somewhat useful.

hahahahaha

It's March 2nd, Damnit!

I was on the phone to the Yooj to make sure all is well in his homestead, as snow has a way of making trees take out power lines.

He and the fam are groovy, but while talking with him, I came off with this gem:

"It's March. There's snow in the Carolinas, and it's 17 defuckinggrees here. I'm driving up to Puxatawny, yanking Phil out of his hole, and kicking him in his furry little asshole."

My pepper seeds are starting to sprout on the dining room table, the fishing poles are on sale at K-mart, and I'm tired of hunkering down inside. I need spring.

These are called Peter Peppers. Cousin Luke and I got some seeds and plan on planting some of these in a flower pot in a prominent area of the local establishment of higher learning.

soon to be abuzz

Cousin Luke played hookey from work and was over at the house while it was warm out. He phoned and told me that the bees were coming out of the top and the bottom. Since the ones using the lower entrance were juveniles, it appears that they have over-wintered well.

If wondering what the significance of that is, remember that Ky loses about 30% of it's hives a year.

The super will go on in about a week, and then let the girls get to work. Hoeffenlich we'll get a fair amount of honey. Maybe we can keep the Yooj from sneezing his butt off when he's in the Ville.

This picture is not mine. I found it when I googled "honey super." this is what the frames look like.

I guess I'll build an igloo

I'm sick and tired of winter.

There is too much shit to get done to have to wait another month.

Four days left in February, then we get into the rainy season.

Why the hell are Cousin Luke's broccoli seeds already sprouting?

And I said STAY OUT

Don't illegally park where I work.
It's raining.
I have paper dots.

Boy do they stick.

I had a bad day yesterday, and today ain't lookin' too hot.
I told the floor staff that if someone came in complaining about that which I did, then come get me and stand back.

I love me.
Repeatedly

not much happening

Split, stacked and burned wood this weekend.

Planted pepper seeds yesterday.

Waiting for spring.

Where'd the cartilage go?

Cousin Luke and I cut wood and drug brush most of the weekend since we had good weather and they're starting to pick up ice damaged limbs today.



I woke up this morning and didn't want to move. Well, I wanted to move but couldn't muster the gumption through the pain.

After about twenty-five minutes in the shower my back started to feel better, and my knees stopped hurting. However, I have so many bruises that I thought I had broken a law in Singapore. That, and my arms are scratched up to where it looks like I tried to put a cat in a toilet (if you haven't tried that, hold a cat over the toilet and flush the crapper- make sure you're insured first).



Well, it wasn't all bad. CL and I drove to the U-boat to check for damage and found none. Beer was cold, and the water was up, so we got the worms out of the fridge and wetted a line. We said hi to the Yooj's lures and soaked up some sun.



My brother Darrel called last night and asked what the chance of feugo was at the PBR.

I told him none, and that I wasn't getting out of the chair for about an hour.



All-in-all not a bad day.

We've another 28 days of this

Then the month of 40-50 deg and rainy, then a week of spring and right on into summer.

Gotta love the 'Ville.

On turning over a new leaf

Last night when I got home and it was near Zero degrees that I would do some housework (vacuuming/laundry) in order to stay busy and warm.

It was during this odd episode that I learned three things:

1) At some point the light bulb at the top of the stairs shattered. Explains why there was glass in the carpet.
2) I only had six beers last night.
3) I dream funny when I'm allowed to sleep for sleep and not to sleep something off.

When I finally got out of bed at seven this morning after tossing and turning for about 45 minutes I started thinking about maybe curtailing the libations so that I could get better sleep, which would mean I could wake up refreshed, which would mean that I could get more productive stuff done (because I came to work earlier I was able to miss Owen Bennett Jones on BBC America- I'll take that as a plus).
After much pondering I decided one thing:

I have to put a new bulb in the light at the top of the stairs.


In other news- I spoke to Janey-Janey-Fo-Fanie yesterday, and she said that where her boyfriend in Ottawa lives it was 15deg below.
F that man. Remember Woody Guthrie's ribbon highway? Take that sonovabitch somewhere south!

I'm not waiting on a lady...

And I'm sure not waiting on a friend.

I'm waiting to get a TOC so I can set up a book and do some more printing tomorrow.

There goes getting Sunday off.

Thanks.

In other news, now that I have time:

Remember that cool goatee I had?

Gone.

I was blowing on the coals in the stove to get 'em cooking, and one of the pieces of redwood popped into the hair on my chinny-chin-chin and got it to going.

I first swatted at it with my hand, but resorted to dunking my chin in the water bucket next to the stove to put it out.

Ouch.

In front of the mirror I tried to trim it even, but to no avail. It burned from the middle to the left, so off it came.

Maybe that's my New year's resolution. Not to shave and see how long I can get it.

I'm not sure about the hat and the curly side-burns.

It's almost over

I might get Sunday off!!!

Holy-shmolly

UL 74

UK 70

It sounded on the radio like a foul-fest, which means the teams weren't allowed to play like the ACC thugs do.

I do wish that the Cards and the Cats were in the same conference so that they could play each other again during the season.

An interresting thought

Now, I realize that with the cheap pieces of crap that come from China these days and time restraints that this isn't always possible, but doing for yourself has its merrits and gives a feeling of pride.

I saw this on a website a while back, but I saw it today in the folder and it got me to thinking after talking to a bunch of people in my family.