Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
A welcome spam found lurking in my hotmail junk folder.
I recently checked my hotmail spam folder and found a gem waiting there. Quarter scale RC TANKS!:
Legal Disclaimer: By clicking the following link you agree not to hold LiberalCCW, LLC. responsible for drool damage to your computer keyboard. I agree.
Legal Disclaimer: By clicking the following link you agree not to hold LiberalCCW, LLC. responsible for drool damage to your computer keyboard. I agree.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
The mis-statement of the year...
No, it's not Hillary, or McCain, it's an Air Marshal:
"The American public would be shocked. ... I think the average person understands there's no physical way to protect every single flight everywhere,"
And this after years of spending 3/4 of a Billion dollars a year.
Ahem. Let CCW permit holders carry everywhere they travel. That's a physical way to protect every single flight everywhere. And, It's FREE!
"The American public would be shocked. ... I think the average person understands there's no physical way to protect every single flight everywhere,"
And this after years of spending 3/4 of a Billion dollars a year.
Ahem. Let CCW permit holders carry everywhere they travel. That's a physical way to protect every single flight everywhere. And, It's FREE!
Monday, March 24, 2008
When breakfast cereals go bad...
Centrist CCW fed the dog some dry stale cornflakes this morning. Unfortunately having spent too much time in the box with nothing to do, the cornflakes were militant and highly trained. Angered at being fed to the dog, they decided to duke it out with their canine nemesis. The rebellious flakes banded together and using dog saliva as a makeshift glue, they bonded themselves solidly to the roof his mouth.
I looked at the dog and said:
"Gizmo, nobody eats cereal without milk"!
When he noticed that the flakes were retaliating the dog began to make gagging noises and attempted to remove the members of the 3rd Cornflake Battalion, Charlie Company from his mouth with his tongue and front paws. Unfortunately, he only made matters worse because mid counter attack, he was distracted by Bravo Company, hiding in his food bowl, and by attacking them, he allowed them to join up with Charlie Company. Now he was battling both Companies who were solidly dug in, and they were holding their ground.
The scratching was fruitless, as the battlefield was linoleum, and every time he raised a front paw to make an assault the other three paws would slide about, leaving him to roll on the floor, gagging and scratching. Every few seconds he would see a Bravo Company straggler on the floor and he would attempt to take them out, only to unwittingly strengthen the invading force.
At this point, I shoved the water bowl under his nose, hoping that he would use it to loosen the entrenched combatants, but he ignored it.
After mulling over the consequences, I felt that it was time to bring out the M-Bomb, as cruel as it sounds. I emptied his water bowl and filled it with about an inch of enriched weapons grade (2%) Mayfield Milk. The invaders didn't stand a chance. The battle was over in less than 5 seconds.
I looked at the dog and said:
"Gizmo, nobody eats cereal without milk"!
When he noticed that the flakes were retaliating the dog began to make gagging noises and attempted to remove the members of the 3rd Cornflake Battalion, Charlie Company from his mouth with his tongue and front paws. Unfortunately, he only made matters worse because mid counter attack, he was distracted by Bravo Company, hiding in his food bowl, and by attacking them, he allowed them to join up with Charlie Company. Now he was battling both Companies who were solidly dug in, and they were holding their ground.
The scratching was fruitless, as the battlefield was linoleum, and every time he raised a front paw to make an assault the other three paws would slide about, leaving him to roll on the floor, gagging and scratching. Every few seconds he would see a Bravo Company straggler on the floor and he would attempt to take them out, only to unwittingly strengthen the invading force.
At this point, I shoved the water bowl under his nose, hoping that he would use it to loosen the entrenched combatants, but he ignored it.
After mulling over the consequences, I felt that it was time to bring out the M-Bomb, as cruel as it sounds. I emptied his water bowl and filled it with about an inch of enriched weapons grade (2%) Mayfield Milk. The invaders didn't stand a chance. The battle was over in less than 5 seconds.
CCW Story 39: The Great Debate!
Having submitted my paperwork and paid my fees, it was time to wait for my concealed carry permit to arrive in the mail. The background check process can take up to 90 days. What better way to pass the time that to shoot?
Centrist CCW and I spent hours at the local indoor range. I probably put 500 rounds a week through the Bersa, and as I chewed through the ammo, my marksmanship improved. I worked on my Weaver stance, shot onehanded with my right and left hands, fired slow, fast, at close range targets and at 25 yards.
I started thinking about my next firearms purchase. Operating under the theory that I was going to carry a pistol everyday, I decided that I wanted to have only one pistol for the sake of simplicity. This would ensure that should have to use it to defend myself, I would not be fumbling for the safety on the Bersa while holding a Ruger.
I also decided that I would have one of each: A pistol, a rifle and a shotgun. So it was between a rifle and a shotgun. I noticed the rack of WASR-10 carbines in the middle of the store.
"What are these"? I asked Todd.
"Cheap AK-47 copies in semi auto. Made in Romania". He replied.
I looked at the price tag. Under $300. Oh Baby!
"You would be better served with an AR". Said Todd.
And so, with little ado, I was introduced to the great AR vs. AK debate (M-16 vs. AK-47). I would hazard to say that the AR vs. AK debate is similar to the Apple vs. Microsoft, Algebraic vs. RPN, or Campagnolo vs. Shimano, with one difference: The "bad guys" use AKs. From Vietnam to Iraq and everywhere and every-when in between.
Centrist CCW and I spent hours at the local indoor range. I probably put 500 rounds a week through the Bersa, and as I chewed through the ammo, my marksmanship improved. I worked on my Weaver stance, shot onehanded with my right and left hands, fired slow, fast, at close range targets and at 25 yards.
I started thinking about my next firearms purchase. Operating under the theory that I was going to carry a pistol everyday, I decided that I wanted to have only one pistol for the sake of simplicity. This would ensure that should have to use it to defend myself, I would not be fumbling for the safety on the Bersa while holding a Ruger.
I also decided that I would have one of each: A pistol, a rifle and a shotgun. So it was between a rifle and a shotgun. I noticed the rack of WASR-10 carbines in the middle of the store.
"What are these"? I asked Todd.
"Cheap AK-47 copies in semi auto. Made in Romania". He replied.
I looked at the price tag. Under $300. Oh Baby!
"You would be better served with an AR". Said Todd.
And so, with little ado, I was introduced to the great AR vs. AK debate (M-16 vs. AK-47). I would hazard to say that the AR vs. AK debate is similar to the Apple vs. Microsoft, Algebraic vs. RPN, or Campagnolo vs. Shimano, with one difference: The "bad guys" use AKs. From Vietnam to Iraq and everywhere and every-when in between.
Liberal CCW's advice for Barack and Hillary
Starting with Barack, I am sorry to see you going through such hard times, but compared to what you will face as U.S. President, this is nothing. My advice to you is that you pick a running mate with domestic and international experience. Someone who has much more conservative core values than yourself. Someone who is ugly as mud, so as to counter the argument that you are running on the young and attractive ticket. Therefore I suggest:
Bill Richardson:
Hillary, I find you as well as all of those who swirl around you utterly repugnant.
My advice:
Get a divorce. This is the only way you stand a chance to get elected.
If you played your cards right, you could hold a press conference and announce that you had caught Bill cheating again. You would shed tears and say that as a liberated woman, you couldn't put up with the pig's infidelity any longer and that you were filing that afternoon. This would garner you the divorced woman vote, and guarantee crossover republican women, and lighten the unpalatable burden of the Clinton name for fence sitters seething at the thought of Bill in the White House again.
Bill Richardson:
Hillary, I find you as well as all of those who swirl around you utterly repugnant.
My advice:
Get a divorce. This is the only way you stand a chance to get elected.
If you played your cards right, you could hold a press conference and announce that you had caught Bill cheating again. You would shed tears and say that as a liberated woman, you couldn't put up with the pig's infidelity any longer and that you were filing that afternoon. This would garner you the divorced woman vote, and guarantee crossover republican women, and lighten the unpalatable burden of the Clinton name for fence sitters seething at the thought of Bill in the White House again.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
A pair of deletions
This author wishes to call attention to two deletions in the list of links to the right of your screen. I decided I was wasting 4 cm^2 of valuable screen space between them.
Rush Limbaugh....gone! Why you ask? Rush's banner "Unity is overrated" rubs me the wrong way. Right now we need racial unity, and Rush in effect is saying that we need racial discord.
Michael Moore....poof! Disappeared! I too am against the war in Iraq, but c'mon Mike, you are driving a wedge between the good folks of this Nation.
Good riddance, you divisive slobs.
Rush Limbaugh....gone! Why you ask? Rush's banner "Unity is overrated" rubs me the wrong way. Right now we need racial unity, and Rush in effect is saying that we need racial discord.
Michael Moore....poof! Disappeared! I too am against the war in Iraq, but c'mon Mike, you are driving a wedge between the good folks of this Nation.
Good riddance, you divisive slobs.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
CCW Story Part 38: CCW Permit Application.
Having taken the State required handgun safety class, the next step in getting a CCW license was to get fingerprinted. I called to make an appointment, and took my work lunch break to get it done. The Knoxville office where the fingerprinting is done is on Central Ave, just North of Broadway, a pretty rough neighborhood. I used to live on Oklahoma Ave, several blocks north of the area. During the day, homeless wander the back alleys, during the evening prostitutes walk the sidewalk. In the dead of night, huge rats wander the neighborhood, attracted by the industrial bakery on the corner of Oklahoma and Central. It's a classic southern city scene.
Ironically, at the very moment I was walking from the car to the State office building in Knoxville to give the U.S. Government biometric data to run against every crime scene they could, police in New Orleans were confiscating firearms from law abiding citizens in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina.
As I waited, I wondered what the U.S. founding fathers would have thought of the Government running a huge computer database containing the fingerprints of law abiding citizens. Checking the fingerprints of those citizens at the speed of light, comparing them to the fingerprints found at crime scenes around our great nation.
It is true, the U.S. Government trusted me, a lowly citizen to go about armed, but to do so legally, I had to pay a price: I had to enter my fingerprints into the system. Was it worth the price?
The scanner was operated by two middle aged women, who, as typical state employees had little time for humor.
"Press your right thumb here... now your fingers of your right hand.... now your left thumb.....now your fingers of your left hand". Said the woman as she watched a screen showing my fingerprints.
Funny how some legislators think that this would prevent crimes. If I ever robbed a store at gunpoint, I could simply buy a pair of $0.99 cotton gloves and leave no fingerprints behind. Granted, if I had ever committed a crime, I was unlikely to apply for a permit that required me to give fingerprints. In that line of reasoning, had I already committed a violent crime, I would also most likely not feel that I needed a permit to carry a gun.
And so, I left the State facility, having left my anonymity behind in exchange for the "privilege" of going about armed. I was in the system, biometrics and all, and if there is one thing I have learned, it is that there is no getting out of the system.
Ironically, at the very moment I was walking from the car to the State office building in Knoxville to give the U.S. Government biometric data to run against every crime scene they could, police in New Orleans were confiscating firearms from law abiding citizens in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina.
As I waited, I wondered what the U.S. founding fathers would have thought of the Government running a huge computer database containing the fingerprints of law abiding citizens. Checking the fingerprints of those citizens at the speed of light, comparing them to the fingerprints found at crime scenes around our great nation.
It is true, the U.S. Government trusted me, a lowly citizen to go about armed, but to do so legally, I had to pay a price: I had to enter my fingerprints into the system. Was it worth the price?
The scanner was operated by two middle aged women, who, as typical state employees had little time for humor.
"Press your right thumb here... now your fingers of your right hand.... now your left thumb.....now your fingers of your left hand". Said the woman as she watched a screen showing my fingerprints.
Funny how some legislators think that this would prevent crimes. If I ever robbed a store at gunpoint, I could simply buy a pair of $0.99 cotton gloves and leave no fingerprints behind. Granted, if I had ever committed a crime, I was unlikely to apply for a permit that required me to give fingerprints. In that line of reasoning, had I already committed a violent crime, I would also most likely not feel that I needed a permit to carry a gun.
And so, I left the State facility, having left my anonymity behind in exchange for the "privilege" of going about armed. I was in the system, biometrics and all, and if there is one thing I have learned, it is that there is no getting out of the system.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Milan San-Remo
I apologize for the formating of this text, It was written in notepad.
This Sunday, the European Pro Cycling Classics kick off with the Milan-San Remo.
I have a minuscule tidbit of lore on the race, as I have a connection to the
winner of the first edition of Milan San Remo in 1908, Cyrille Van Hauwaert.
Unable to afford train fare to the race, Van Hauwaert gathered some clothes
and a small amount of money, and departed Belgium for Milan on his bike.
Riding south through the Ardennes, into France and then Italy, he arrived very fit for the race.
He won the first Milan San Remo, but the details of his victory have been lost to time.
Instantly, he became a legend. The Flemish, who had little joy in their lives
now had claim to a genuine international hero. Van Hauwaert became
the first of the Flandriens, the Flemish riders who dominated
the classics for the bulk of the Twentieth Century. The most famous Flandriens
are Rik Van Loey, Rik Van Steenbergen and Roger De Vlaeminck "Mr. Paris Roubaix".
One could say that Johan Musseuw is the latest Flandriens, but I would argue
Freddy Maertens was the last.
After his homecoming, Van Hawaert maximized his fame and started building
bicycles bearing his name. The Van Hauwaert brand was built
in his workshop in Brussels, later he opened a second factory in the Congo.
In the late 1940s, he began to rack up debts, as his love
for drink and the horses ate in to his profits. By the mid 1950s he
closed the plant in the Congo and looked into selling off his brand in
order to pay off his bookies. He sold his business to a Mr. De Visscher
who continued production of Van Hauwaert bicycles in Brussels until
the early 1970's when he moved the production to Ronse, in Southern East Flanders.
In 1993, I took a job with De Visscher as a mechanic/frame painter/lackey
and had his son build me a custom bike with Fillet Brazed Columbus EL tubing,
which I raced for two seasons.
De Visscher's son remembered meeting
Cyrille Van Hauwaert and described him as a rotund man with a deep
belly laugh and a large handlebar mustache, with a famous weakness for drinking, gambling and the ladies.
This Sunday, the European Pro Cycling Classics kick off with the Milan-San Remo.
I have a minuscule tidbit of lore on the race, as I have a connection to the
winner of the first edition of Milan San Remo in 1908, Cyrille Van Hauwaert.
Unable to afford train fare to the race, Van Hauwaert gathered some clothes
and a small amount of money, and departed Belgium for Milan on his bike.
Riding south through the Ardennes, into France and then Italy, he arrived very fit for the race.
He won the first Milan San Remo, but the details of his victory have been lost to time.
Instantly, he became a legend. The Flemish, who had little joy in their lives
now had claim to a genuine international hero. Van Hauwaert became
the first of the Flandriens, the Flemish riders who dominated
the classics for the bulk of the Twentieth Century. The most famous Flandriens
are Rik Van Loey, Rik Van Steenbergen and Roger De Vlaeminck "Mr. Paris Roubaix".
One could say that Johan Musseuw is the latest Flandriens, but I would argue
Freddy Maertens was the last.
After his homecoming, Van Hawaert maximized his fame and started building
bicycles bearing his name. The Van Hauwaert brand was built
in his workshop in Brussels, later he opened a second factory in the Congo.
In the late 1940s, he began to rack up debts, as his love
for drink and the horses ate in to his profits. By the mid 1950s he
closed the plant in the Congo and looked into selling off his brand in
order to pay off his bookies. He sold his business to a Mr. De Visscher
who continued production of Van Hauwaert bicycles in Brussels until
the early 1970's when he moved the production to Ronse, in Southern East Flanders.
In 1993, I took a job with De Visscher as a mechanic/frame painter/lackey
and had his son build me a custom bike with Fillet Brazed Columbus EL tubing,
which I raced for two seasons.
De Visscher's son remembered meeting
Cyrille Van Hauwaert and described him as a rotund man with a deep
belly laugh and a large handlebar mustache, with a famous weakness for drinking, gambling and the ladies.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Heathcote and Chadwick
The Dept. of Dirty Looks is fairly large and I have do do all of the ordering through Mr. Heathcote. The problem with this is that Heathcote has no followthrough, no ambition, drive, or desire to please or achieve much of anything other than wait a week when ordering and then sign for boxes. A month ago I ordered 300 0.5 meter long widgets via Heathcote, who wants to make all orders, and receive all orders through his office, which is big enough to park a scooter in comfortably, but not 300 0.5 meter long widgets, no matter how tight you pack them. I sent him an Email stating:
This order will arrive on a full size tractor trailer, you will need a forklift to unload it, please have it sent here (address follows) we have a forklift. It is a big pile of widgets, a mighty big pile. Taller than the hallway outside the door of the Dept. of Dirty Looks shipping office. Blah blah blah.
I hoped that the above was not too subtle, and the Heathcote would do what I asked, and ship it to my address, not his.
A month went by, and I heard nothing. No confirmation from Heathcote, not a peep. I needed the widgets, and had started cutting 0.75 meter widgets down to 0.5 meters with a band saw, just to get by. Wasteful widget cutting is not high on my list of fun activities.
Today I was across campus and decided to stop in and see if Heathcote had actually bothered to open my Email.
"Did you order the 0.5 meter widgets I requested"? I asked.
Not looking up from his game of Solitaire, Heatcote replied: "Yes, of course, they have been here for weeks, they are downstairs, they were too big to bring up here. Chadwick was supposed to deliver them to you, go talk to him".
I exhaled sharply and wondered if I need to put the "ship to me" message in BOLD UPPERCASE 36 RED FONT the next time.
I exhaled for two reasons. First, Heathcote is a fool. Secondly, Chadwick hates me, as I once asked a graduate student to perform a task I call the Amazing Feat of Workplace Prowess that is the Raison D'etre of Chadwick's employment. Chadwick was proving that he is important, and made us wait, when we couldn't wait, so when he thought that I had a lowly student perform the Amazing Feat of Workplace Prowess, he was livid.
Back across campus in my office, I was on the phone when a graduate student knocked on my door.
"Chadwick says you need to come and get the Widgets, the fire marshal said that they are blocking the exit".
I exhaled again. Twice, once for Heathcote and once for Chadwick.
I called Heathcote, who's phone went to voicemail. I left a message stating that I had no way to come get the widgets, and that they were blocking the exit, blah, blah, blah.
Next, I steeled myself and called Chadwick, who coldly asked me when I could pick up the widgets, as the fire exit to the lower level of the Dept. of Dirty Looks was blocked.
I told him that I had no truck, he had the only truck, and asked if he could bring them.
Two hours later, he arrived, and none too happy.
"What the hell do you mean by telling Heathcote that I refused to bring you the Widgets"? Chadwick shouted at me.
I realize several things:
1. Heathcote hates both Chadwick and myself.
2. Chadwick had set us up.
3. Chadwick hates me and Heathcote.
4. The Dept. of Dirty Looks has HR issues.
I apologized to Chadwick, and worked a deal that if anything arrives with my name on it in his corner of Dirty Looks, he will call me and I will take care of it.
It's too bad you can't order a box of male Silverback Gorillas.
This order will arrive on a full size tractor trailer, you will need a forklift to unload it, please have it sent here (address follows) we have a forklift. It is a big pile of widgets, a mighty big pile. Taller than the hallway outside the door of the Dept. of Dirty Looks shipping office. Blah blah blah.
I hoped that the above was not too subtle, and the Heathcote would do what I asked, and ship it to my address, not his.
A month went by, and I heard nothing. No confirmation from Heathcote, not a peep. I needed the widgets, and had started cutting 0.75 meter widgets down to 0.5 meters with a band saw, just to get by. Wasteful widget cutting is not high on my list of fun activities.
Today I was across campus and decided to stop in and see if Heathcote had actually bothered to open my Email.
"Did you order the 0.5 meter widgets I requested"? I asked.
Not looking up from his game of Solitaire, Heatcote replied: "Yes, of course, they have been here for weeks, they are downstairs, they were too big to bring up here. Chadwick was supposed to deliver them to you, go talk to him".
I exhaled sharply and wondered if I need to put the "ship to me" message in BOLD UPPERCASE 36 RED FONT the next time.
I exhaled for two reasons. First, Heathcote is a fool. Secondly, Chadwick hates me, as I once asked a graduate student to perform a task I call the Amazing Feat of Workplace Prowess that is the Raison D'etre of Chadwick's employment. Chadwick was proving that he is important, and made us wait, when we couldn't wait, so when he thought that I had a lowly student perform the Amazing Feat of Workplace Prowess, he was livid.
Back across campus in my office, I was on the phone when a graduate student knocked on my door.
"Chadwick says you need to come and get the Widgets, the fire marshal said that they are blocking the exit".
I exhaled again. Twice, once for Heathcote and once for Chadwick.
I called Heathcote, who's phone went to voicemail. I left a message stating that I had no way to come get the widgets, and that they were blocking the exit, blah, blah, blah.
Next, I steeled myself and called Chadwick, who coldly asked me when I could pick up the widgets, as the fire exit to the lower level of the Dept. of Dirty Looks was blocked.
I told him that I had no truck, he had the only truck, and asked if he could bring them.
Two hours later, he arrived, and none too happy.
"What the hell do you mean by telling Heathcote that I refused to bring you the Widgets"? Chadwick shouted at me.
I realize several things:
1. Heathcote hates both Chadwick and myself.
2. Chadwick had set us up.
3. Chadwick hates me and Heathcote.
4. The Dept. of Dirty Looks has HR issues.
I apologized to Chadwick, and worked a deal that if anything arrives with my name on it in his corner of Dirty Looks, he will call me and I will take care of it.
It's too bad you can't order a box of male Silverback Gorillas.
For those of you who wonder what bicycle racing in Europe is like...
I can vouch for the absolute truth written here about racing in Belgium, The Netherlands and France.
The Belgian Cyclo-Tourists (Wieler-Terroristen) used to give me a hard time about training in the rain.
"It's no good for you manneke, you will get sick".
If I never trained in the rain in Belgium, I would have trained a total of two weeks in 8 seasons. My instant response after the 1000th comment by the same person about getting wet when riding in the rain:
"The only difference between training in the rain and training in good weather is that I am not soaked from sweat when it is raining".
Funny that after you win a race, no one comes up and says:
"See, you shouldn't have trained in the rain this spring".
Don't even get me started on Belgians and their insane fetish with Pre-Race Bicycle Sterilization Procedures (AKA, you can't race with a fingerprint on your frame). Which is funny considering how much horse crap you have to ride through in the first km of the race.
The Belgian Cyclo-Tourists (Wieler-Terroristen) used to give me a hard time about training in the rain.
"It's no good for you manneke, you will get sick".
If I never trained in the rain in Belgium, I would have trained a total of two weeks in 8 seasons. My instant response after the 1000th comment by the same person about getting wet when riding in the rain:
"The only difference between training in the rain and training in good weather is that I am not soaked from sweat when it is raining".
Funny that after you win a race, no one comes up and says:
"See, you shouldn't have trained in the rain this spring".
Don't even get me started on Belgians and their insane fetish with Pre-Race Bicycle Sterilization Procedures (AKA, you can't race with a fingerprint on your frame). Which is funny considering how much horse crap you have to ride through in the first km of the race.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Of Cats and Dogs.
The primary psychological difference between any given cat and any random dog is that dogs can't hide their emotions. If a dog is angry, it's obvious. Cats can hide their anger and take revenge later. I shaved a portion of the family cat's tail once, and he acted normal towards me for two days while he plotted revenge. His revenge was perfect, he sprayed my pillow.
Dogs also have a sense of remorse. We can look at our dog and see right away if he got into something in the kitchen when we were gone. He hangs his head low, and you can see in his eyes that he feels like dirt.
A cat has no sense of remorse, no guilt whatsoever actually. If you come home to a cat ravaged kitchen, blinds torn to shreds, food eaten and look angrily at the cat, the cat just looks at you with an expression that says:
"What are you lookin' at? Get me some dinner, I will be in the front window plotting my escape.....You filthy PIMP! "
Dogs also have a sense of remorse. We can look at our dog and see right away if he got into something in the kitchen when we were gone. He hangs his head low, and you can see in his eyes that he feels like dirt.
A cat has no sense of remorse, no guilt whatsoever actually. If you come home to a cat ravaged kitchen, blinds torn to shreds, food eaten and look angrily at the cat, the cat just looks at you with an expression that says:
"What are you lookin' at? Get me some dinner, I will be in the front window plotting my escape.....You filthy PIMP! "
The Woes of Sitemeter.
I am removing the Sitemeter counter from my site. I realized that I was spending more time looking at who was reading my writing, than actually writing anything. I was also beginning to get tempted to tailor articles to draw hits, instead of writing for my primary audience. (Both of you.)
Our new apartment.
We recently moved to a new apartment and our dog was well behaved for about a week.
By well behaved, I mean he treated the carpet with a modicum of respect. The second week however, he and the carpet were on fighting terms, I am convinced that he was trying to beat it into submission using his most potent weapons.
Monday, startled by the Maintenance man, the dog peed buckets full right in the traffic lane between the kitchen and the living room. Dutifully, we dried and scrubbed it up.
Wednesday, the dog ate a Non Food Item of Biological Origin (NFIBO) that didn't sit right, probably a dead something or a cat turd from outside, so he horked it right in the middle of the living room floor. Normally we can anticipate these events because his
Wind-up is long and loud, but this time he got us in the middle of the night. Why do dogs always vomit twice, the second round having exactly half of the footprint of the first? He apparently still felt pretty good about the contents of the second hork, because he cleaned most of that up on his own. He wanted nothing to do with the partially digested dead thing/cat turd, so I cleaned that off of the carpet with gloves and disinfectant.
That evening I saw what I thought was a small bit potato peel on the ground, so I picked it up, only to discover that it was not a piece of potato peel, it was a peanut. Then I noticed that the peanut had a dog hair stuck to it, so I examined it more closely only to discover that it was not a peanut, but that it appeared to be a horked up hairball.
Something about the hairball was not right, and so pinching it between my thumb and forefinger, I gave it a quick sniff.... only to discover that it was not a hairball at all, it was a peanut-shaped dog turd.
I had the sudden realization that I was a grown man, standing in his living room sniffing a dog turd held between his thumb and index finger.
I ran and pitched the poop into the closest receptacle, the kitchen garbage, then zipped into the bathroom to wash my hands, readied for the next round of floor scrubbing.
The next morning, the Centrist CCW emerged from the bedroom and exclaimed through a grimace:
"It smells like dog poo in here".
I related the story above to which the Centrist CCW asked:
"Why didn't you put the poop in the toilet instead of the garbage".
I thought about it for a while, I had never thought of putting it anywhere, I just wanted to get rid of it ASAP.
"When you are standing, sniffing a dog turd under your own nose, you tend not to worry about where to get rid of it, as much as how fast you can get rid of it".
Centrist CCW agreed.
It was a long week.
By well behaved, I mean he treated the carpet with a modicum of respect. The second week however, he and the carpet were on fighting terms, I am convinced that he was trying to beat it into submission using his most potent weapons.
Monday, startled by the Maintenance man, the dog peed buckets full right in the traffic lane between the kitchen and the living room. Dutifully, we dried and scrubbed it up.
Wednesday, the dog ate a Non Food Item of Biological Origin (NFIBO) that didn't sit right, probably a dead something or a cat turd from outside, so he horked it right in the middle of the living room floor. Normally we can anticipate these events because his
Wind-up is long and loud, but this time he got us in the middle of the night. Why do dogs always vomit twice, the second round having exactly half of the footprint of the first? He apparently still felt pretty good about the contents of the second hork, because he cleaned most of that up on his own. He wanted nothing to do with the partially digested dead thing/cat turd, so I cleaned that off of the carpet with gloves and disinfectant.
That evening I saw what I thought was a small bit potato peel on the ground, so I picked it up, only to discover that it was not a piece of potato peel, it was a peanut. Then I noticed that the peanut had a dog hair stuck to it, so I examined it more closely only to discover that it was not a peanut, but that it appeared to be a horked up hairball.
Something about the hairball was not right, and so pinching it between my thumb and forefinger, I gave it a quick sniff.... only to discover that it was not a hairball at all, it was a peanut-shaped dog turd.
I had the sudden realization that I was a grown man, standing in his living room sniffing a dog turd held between his thumb and index finger.
I ran and pitched the poop into the closest receptacle, the kitchen garbage, then zipped into the bathroom to wash my hands, readied for the next round of floor scrubbing.
The next morning, the Centrist CCW emerged from the bedroom and exclaimed through a grimace:
"It smells like dog poo in here".
I related the story above to which the Centrist CCW asked:
"Why didn't you put the poop in the toilet instead of the garbage".
I thought about it for a while, I had never thought of putting it anywhere, I just wanted to get rid of it ASAP.
"When you are standing, sniffing a dog turd under your own nose, you tend not to worry about where to get rid of it, as much as how fast you can get rid of it".
Centrist CCW agreed.
It was a long week.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Fun with phones.
The creation of global cellular phone networks has been a boon for personal communication. Now we rarely out of touch, with each other, calling and talking from our cars from
Faint preaching!
Poor Man's Medium Speed Internet.
Centrist CCW and I are now connected to the World Wide Web at home. Being a Cheapskate with an uppercase C, I didn't want to fork over setup fees plus modem cost plus $24 per month for a dry run DSL only phone line, or $37.75 plus setup fees plus modem fees for cable. We recently re-upped with our GSM cell provider and received two free phones, which have bluetooth and have packet data (internet) capabilities. It turn out that for an additional $15 a month I can sign up for unlimited data on my number.
Now, via Dell Inspiron -> Wifi -> Powerbook G3 -> Bluetooth -> Nokia Phone -> GPRS we have medium speed internet for two laptops. As I write this on the Powerbook, the Centrist CCW is watching TV shows on the Dell. Granted, it's not a high speed setup. Speed tests show 128 K down, 64 K up.
If we download video, the phone gets hot, and forget about running for more than 2 hours on the phone battery, it has to stay plugged in.
So far we have downloaded 955 Megabytes. Yes, that's Megabytes, this week. That's 1.5 cents per Megabyte. If we work it out on a monthly basis, that is 0.4 cents per MB.
One advantage over DSL or cable is that it works anywhere we have a GSM signal on our phones.
Now, via Dell Inspiron -> Wifi -> Powerbook G3 -> Bluetooth -> Nokia Phone -> GPRS we have medium speed internet for two laptops. As I write this on the Powerbook, the Centrist CCW is watching TV shows on the Dell. Granted, it's not a high speed setup. Speed tests show 128 K down, 64 K up.
If we download video, the phone gets hot, and forget about running for more than 2 hours on the phone battery, it has to stay plugged in.
So far we have downloaded 955 Megabytes. Yes, that's Megabytes, this week. That's 1.5 cents per Megabyte. If we work it out on a monthly basis, that is 0.4 cents per MB.
One advantage over DSL or cable is that it works anywhere we have a GSM signal on our phones.
Friday, March 14, 2008
In the depths of my fever I realized that Ann Coulter was right!
Laying in bed over the last week, feverish and sick, I realized that Ann Coulter is right: Too many people vote in this country. The voting poor do pose a threat to our great society. We do need a poll tax and literacy tests to ensure that we don't waste our valuable tax money on "Guv'ment Cheese".
It makes sense to limit the vote to those who can measure success in a candidate, those who can recognize managerial talent.
By eliminating the voting "noise" of the self serving poor and uneducated in our society, we can elect leader who get things done.
Therefore I suggest the following poll tax:
$95,000 cash at the voting booth. This would eliminate the destitute and working poor who have obviously made bad decisions in their own lives, and keep them from dragging the country down. The $95,000 would be tax deductible of course, as no one should have to pay to perform their civic duties.
Outlines for the literacy test can be found here.
It makes sense to limit the vote to those who can measure success in a candidate, those who can recognize managerial talent.
By eliminating the voting "noise" of the self serving poor and uneducated in our society, we can elect leader who get things done.
Therefore I suggest the following poll tax:
$95,000 cash at the voting booth. This would eliminate the destitute and working poor who have obviously made bad decisions in their own lives, and keep them from dragging the country down. The $95,000 would be tax deductible of course, as no one should have to pay to perform their civic duties.
Outlines for the literacy test can be found here.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Obama, Clinton, Race America and the GOP.
I imagine that it has to be difficult to be a Democrat, Female, and fill Hillary Clinton's shoes. The focus of her life right now is to find an effective way to marginalize a black man's accomplishments, and not insult liberals while doing it. I would not want her job.
In contrast, the GOP has no problems using racism and fear to rally the troops. From an Email sent to me by a white acquaintance who used the dreaded phrase "I am not a racist....but". Which really means: "I am a racist", when telling me about the Email.
Interestingly, the Email's author also feels that saying "This is not a racist statement" right before and after racist statements, makes them stop being racist statements.
A short excerpt:
"But for minorities, and in particular blacks, this election
represents a moment of long-awaited validation. There is no question that
the election of an African-American president will empower the blacks of
this country. Don't misunderstand me - this is not a racist statement, this
is just a fact, and in many respects this could be a good thing. But there is no denying the sense of audacious rebellion that constantly simmers in
much of the black community, particularly with the youth of the large
metropolitan areas. I have some concern that the election of a black
president will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of
race over intelligence, reason, and the value of law..."
The GOP is using race against Obama. It worked with my acquaintance, he is afraid. It seems that the GOP are also afraid that a black man might win the US Presidency.
The words of the GOP are false. This is a country of the people, all of the people. While the words of the GOP in 2008 are more eloquent than most of the rants of American racists over the last several centuries, the meaning of their words however, are the same:
If you let one of them run the country, they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.
If you let one of them vote, they will will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.
If you let one of them into your school, they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.
If you let one of them ride in the front of the bus they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.
If you let one of them live in your neighborhood they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.
If you let one of them serve in the Military, they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.
If you abolish slavery, they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.
This Presidential election is a litmus test for racial tolerance in the USA. Will we pass?
Addendum: I, Liberal CCW solemnly deny that there is a sense of audacious rebellion in much of the black community.
In contrast, the GOP has no problems using racism and fear to rally the troops. From an Email sent to me by a white acquaintance who used the dreaded phrase "I am not a racist....but". Which really means: "I am a racist", when telling me about the Email.
Interestingly, the Email's author also feels that saying "This is not a racist statement" right before and after racist statements, makes them stop being racist statements.
A short excerpt:
"But for minorities, and in particular blacks, this election
represents a moment of long-awaited validation. There is no question that
the election of an African-American president will empower the blacks of
this country. Don't misunderstand me - this is not a racist statement, this
is just a fact, and in many respects this could be a good thing. But there is no denying the sense of audacious rebellion that constantly simmers in
much of the black community, particularly with the youth of the large
metropolitan areas. I have some concern that the election of a black
president will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of
race over intelligence, reason, and the value of law..."
The GOP is using race against Obama. It worked with my acquaintance, he is afraid. It seems that the GOP are also afraid that a black man might win the US Presidency.
The words of the GOP are false. This is a country of the people, all of the people. While the words of the GOP in 2008 are more eloquent than most of the rants of American racists over the last several centuries, the meaning of their words however, are the same:
If you let one of them run the country, they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.
If you let one of them vote, they will will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.
If you let one of them into your school, they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.
If you let one of them ride in the front of the bus they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.
If you let one of them live in your neighborhood they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.
If you let one of them serve in the Military, they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.
If you abolish slavery, they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.
This Presidential election is a litmus test for racial tolerance in the USA. Will we pass?
Addendum: I, Liberal CCW solemnly deny that there is a sense of audacious rebellion in much of the black community.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Back from the near dead.
I apologize to my four regular readers from my recent pause in blogging. I was out sick and have no internet connection at home. There are several articles on the hard drive that I will upload in the days ahead.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
