Blogs written with the express intent to be funny … and shorter than my usual ramblings tend to be.
Blogs written with the express intent to be funny … and shorter than my usual ramblings tend to be.
So, what IS Golden Tee?
Well, on the surface it’s a wildly popular video golf game played in bars everywhere. It’s affectionately referred to as a “barcade game.”
To some it is an inexplicable waste of time and money; they enjoy watching someone play, but they cannot fathom how or why anyone would devote teh amount of time and money needed to ever play the game at a halfway respectable level.
To others it is more simply and succinctly referred to as: ADULT VIDEO CRACK!
As many can attest, I tend to fall into the latter category!
Whatever you want to call it, it IS — perhaps questionably — the most addictive video game ever placed in a bar.
Sure, there are others, but none of them enjoy the rabid following of this fair game.
As far as hobbies, interests, etc. are concerned: nothing — and I do mean NOTHING — has captivated me as much as this game has the past couple of years.
How bad off am I? Well, compared to some in this game — especially at the top — I am a mere guppy. Not just in my level of play, but insofar as my level of addiction. Some of these guys literally play 8, 10 or more hours a day!
Of course, they make damned good money at it, but anyhow … I’m only good for a few hours at it, and that mostly with friends. It’s RARE that I actually get any single player time on our machines.
Even so, I’m still slappin’ the old trackball around to the tune of about 225 games per month, which adds up (to painfully overstate the obvious).
As I mentioned yesterday, I finally decided to get OUT of the business of lining other people’s pockets and actually do something meaningful to benefit most of the local regulars who also love this game.
And thus was born …
Beyond bringing a goodly amount of business to a family owned restaurant/bar and almost as fun as taking care of the players whom I spend a LOT of my evenings with, this little venture has provided a nice little late night outlet for my slightly demented “creativity.” To wit: an operator can create his own custom ad screens that get displayed on the screens between games (or on the overhead secondary monitors during game play)
Here’s a shot of our first 2 machines:
In retrospect, not a very good picture. I’m gonna have to rectify that here soon.
Anyhow … back to the ad screens!
Here’s my first stab at it:
That garnered a few chuckles … which only encouraged me more …
Now, in this case, I felt the need to place an occasional reminder to several of us at the bar who sometimes lose our cool after a couple of back-to-back bad shots:
So far, that one seems to be working …
In MOST of my ads, I do make sure to give a nod to the establishment that was goodly enough to partner up with us …
That one was met with mixed reactions so I’ve since retired it …. for now, at least …
My business partner, Christian, pointed out that I really ought to do something to really make our aggressive pricing jump out to patrons on the other side of the bar.
I sort of thought this summed it up well enough …
Along the lines of the “Play more, get better” campaign we had this little gem:
For those of you wondering “what the hell is that?” when you saw the eyeball in the pic of our machines earlier …
Some of the “ads” are not advertisements whatsoever. This is my own rendering of what some of my dreams look like …
Yeah, sorta weird, huh?
And then there’s one of my personal favorites …
Alright … time for me wrap things up and head out to investigate another bar that sounds like it’s in need of a Ninja’s touch!
Welcome to my mind
(Empty though it may be…)
Nuthin: **rolls eyes** Sal, you always vote sex
Semper Salax: and you always shut me down, why do you hate me
Nuthin: Come on, we’re running a family show here…lets dont bring it down to that level. Does anyone have an idea other than sex?
Semper Manic: I like wolf t-shirts
Semper Salax: Show of hands, who likes sex
**all raise hands**
Semper Salax: See!?! Now tell me why we cant do sex?
Nuthin: Padre, didnt you have some funny stories about our kids you were gonna include in our next blog?
Semper Padre: Yeah…no. They seem really funny at the time but when you think about it later, its mostly those “you had to be there” kind of stories.
Semper Padre: Well there was this one about our nephew…
Nuthin: OK, shoot
Semper Padre: Well, he was getting his diaper changed the other day and he farted. It surprised him and his eyes got real big and he asked ” Is that the choo choo?”.
Nuthin: Yeah. That was cute…but I dont think anyone cares, other than his parents and maybe you. Lets forget about that one.
Semper Padre: I told ya.
Semper Salax: Ya gotta have sex to make nephews…so I vote sex.
Semper Ebrius: So if you have sex with your sister-in-law, would the offspring be nephews and nieces? or sons and daughters?
Semper Salax: It depends on if she is good looking or not.
Nuthin: How does that…nevermind. We are not going to blog about sex, end of discussion. Besides all of our sister-in-laws are currently MARRIED…and to our brothers no less, so lets not even go there.
Semper Salax: Not to mention that they are all ugly as hell, how could we have let our brothers pick such awful wives?
Nuthin: We could do a blog on interesting quotes?
Semper Fatalis: Please dont make me want to kill you.
Nuthin: Where is that quote from?
Semper Fatalis: No. I meant it literally.
Nuthin: Oh. Hostility much Fatalis?
Semper Fatalis: Fuck you Nuthin, you suck.
Nuthin: Moving on…
Semper Salax: How about weird sexual fetishes.
Semper Salax: Like that one where they do that thing with feet and toes…
Nuthin: **shudder** The last thing in the world I want is anyones tongue on my toes.
Semper Salax: No, that OTHER thing…with the…
Semper Salax: What’sa matter Nuthin, you suffering from testicular shrinkage or something? you got no balls to write about sex?
Nuthin: If I am, then you are too you moron.
Semper Vogon: How about poetry?
Nuthin: You write perhaps verifiably the worst poetry in the northern hemisphere.
Semper Vogon: I thought everyone liked my poetry?
Nuthin: No one REALLY likes any poetry at all, much less that senseless garbage that you pass off as clever wit
Semper Salax: Yeah, your shit dont even rhyme.
Semper Vogon: Poetry doesnt have to rhyme dumb-ass… I dont know why I even waste my time talking to you Sal.
Semper Manic: Woody Woodpecker is red
Nuthin: We are getting no where fast here people, come on, any good ideas?
Semper Fatalis: I want to kill all of you.
Semper Vogon: What else is new Fatalis, you always want to kill everyone.
Semper Fatalis: Can I start with that faggot Vogon?
Nuthin: No one is killing anyone in here, besides, I dont think you quite understand exactly what that would do…
Semper Ebrius: Guinness is delicious, and didnt we just have St. Patty’s Day or something? Why cant we do a green irish blog?
Nuthin: We are not Irish. Hell, we didnt even know it was St. Patrick’s day until the day after, we basically missed it.
Semper Ebrius: Irish I were dfrunk
Semper Salax: How about a blog about a Rule 34 on Palin? I wanna get some of that action…
Nuthin: You need to spend less time on 4chan Sal, there are no real nudes of Sarah Palin.
Semper Salax: Well there should be.
Semper Manic: I like woodpeckers.
Nuthin: I’m very happy for you Manic.
Semper Manic: You know, those big ones, those articulated woodpeckers
Nuthin: did you say articulated
Semper Manic: I meant articulate
Semper Manic: no I mean reticulated
Nuthin: wtf are you talking about
Nuthin: do you mean piliated woodpeckers?
Semper Manic: ……
Nuthin: Can you hear me?
Semper Manic: What?
Semper Manic: Yes.
Nuthin: Moving on…
Semper Fatalis: Can we at least kill something before this blog is over?
Semper Vogon: I watched the cat eat a mouse this morning, it was kinda gross.
Semper Fatalis: How about you let me feed the cat to Titus
Nuthin: I dont think our children would enjoy watching THEIR cat eaten by OUR Bulldog.
Semper Fatalis: No one said we would let them watch, you sicko.
Nuthin: How we gonna hide that smart ass?
Semper Fatalis: We could do it on our lunch hour while they are at school.
Nuthin: And who gets to explain how….you know what, nevermind…Let me be very clear about this, WE ARE NOT FEEDING THE CAT TO TITUS. PERIOD.
Semper Salax: Hey, theres a fetish for ya. Period.
Semper Padre: We could do a blog on family vacations?
Nuthin: How exciting….
Semper Ebrius: Best drunken pranks, like that time we crashed that car and lied to the italian police and stole a bicycle.
Nuthin: How was that a prank? and I dont even remember most of that story. Bicycle? what bicycle?
Semper Ebrius: How about that time we puked our guts out just before midnight on new years eve, and when we came back in the building the countdown was at 5…4…3 and then this complete stranger sasquatch of a hefty young lass got a nasty surprise when she stuck her tongue down our throat for a new years kiss.
Nuthin: well there you go, what a good story. Now add about a thousand or so more words, a happy ending, and an ACTUAL POINT and you have a great blog.
Semper Salax: I like happy endings!
Semper Fatalis: How about that time where I bounced this guys head off the bowl of a toilet a few times, then squeezed so hard choking him that I shit my own pants.
Nuthin: That wasnt even us, that was our cousin Joe, we were there, but thankfully no one saw us bounce our guys head off the stone fireplace across from the bar, so the cops only arrested Joe, we drove home mildly impaired.
Semper Manic: I like Milk, like from a cow though, not from a hamster or anything weird like that.
Semper Vogon: Roses are red, Violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are you.
Nuthin: The roses have wilted, the violets are dead, the sugar bowls empty, and so is your head.
Nuthin: You know what, I’m done trying to coax more than two sentences outta you worthless fucks. I quit. You each write your own blog and submit it directly to Buck himself, I aint signin off on shit. You wanna get all weird n shit, go right ahead. Knock yourselves out, I aint putting my name on none of it.
Semper Salax: So we got nuthin then.
Nuthin: basically, yes
Semper Salax: well then, lets go with that.
Thanks for reading, and stay safe…its a dangerous werld out there!
Semper ubi sub ubi
(this one has made the loop for quite a few years, but it’s a classic)
Well, maybe not THE beginning, but when our ancestors finally came along they initially congregated as small bands of nomadic hunter/gatherers. During the warmer months they lived in the mountains and plains, feasting on deer, fruits and the other goodly things that the land did provide. During the colder months they would move closer to the coast and dined on fish and lobster and the other wonderful bounty that the seas did provide.
As fate would have it, the two most important events in all of history came during these early days of lore; these were the invention of beer and the invention of the wheel. A not-so-minor anecdotal fact unknown to most is the fact that the wheel was invented to get man to the beer. All the same, these were the foundations of modern civilization and became the catalyst for the splitting of humanity into two distinct sub groups:
1. Liberals, and
Beer, as everybody knows, requires grain, and lots of it. This, and not the cultivation of food stocks, is how agriculture came to be. In the same manner, since neither glass nor aluminum storage devices yet existed our early human ancestors stayed close to the brewery while waiting for them to be invented and thusly grew into what we now refer to as villages.
Some men spent their days tracking and killing animals to B-B-Q at night while they were drinking beer. This was the beginning of what is known as the Conservative movement.
Other men — weaker and less skilled at hunting than their Conservative counterparts — learned to live off the conservatives by showing up for the nightly B-B-Q’s. In time, these lesser beings spent their days with tasks such as sewing, fetching, and hair dressing. This was the beginning of the Liberal movement.
Some of these liberal men actually evolved into women; the rest were simply known as girlie-men. Some noteworthy liberal achievements include the domestication of cats, the invention of group therapy, group hugs, and the concept of Democratic voting to decide how to divide the meat and beer that conservatives provided.
Over the years conservatives came to be symbolized by the largest, most powerful land animal on earth, the elephant. Liberals are symbolized by the jackass.
Modern liberals like imported beer (with lime added), although most prefer white wine or imported bottled water. Sushi, tofu, and French food are standard fare for liberals. Another interesting evolutionary side note is the fact that most of their women have higher testosterone levels than their men.
Most social workers, personal injury attorneys, journalists, dreamers in Hollywood and group therapists are liberals. Liberals invented the designated hitter rule because it wasn’t “fair” to make the pitcher also bat.
Conservatives drink domestic beer, mostly Bud. They eat red meat and still provide for their women. Conservatives are big-game hunters, rodeo cowboys, lumberjacks, construction workers, firemen, medical doctors, police officers, corporate executives, athletes, fighter pilots, and generally anyone who works productively outside of the government. Conservatives who own companies hire other conservatives who want to work for a living.
Liberals produce little or nothing. They like to govern the producers and decide what to do with the production. Liberals believe Europeans are more enlightened than Americans which is why most of the liberals remained in Europe when conservatives were coming to America . They crept in after the Wild West was tamed and created a business of trying to get MORE for nothing, as is their habit.
This ends today’s lesson in world history …
It should be noted that a Liberal may have a momentary urge to angrily respond to the above. A Conservative will simply laugh and be so convinced of its absolute truth that he/she will immediately send a link to this post to other true believers and to more liberals just to tick them off.
So … which one are you? Let your next action speak for you …
Sorry about the intensely verbose purge yesterday but I really had a lot of pent up frustration, and to have finally found release??? Come on! Can you really blame me?
All the same, from what I’ve been reading this morning, it does appear that I’ll be enjoying one mighty nifty piece of technology. So far, the only two “professional” opinion gripes about the Droid are: 1) the fact you can’t do the two finger / multi-point screen thing to zoom in or out (and the 2.1 release rolling out any day now fixes that); and 2) not quite as many apps, which is merely a function of time. Apart from that — and I direct this to each and every one of my friends who own iPhones and have been playful enough to tease me about the awesomeness of your device while mine sent me to the fringes of total psychosis —
My phone is better than your phone!
Can your iPhone control your television / DVR?
If, perchance, you have my cell number, would you please shoot me a message w/ your phone number to my new gMail account? (BuckWezr) Cool, thanks! I created the Gmail account in anticipation of the new phone. With the Droid being driven by the Android operating system from Google, it only goes without saying that it quickly links up to anything else I have directly tied-in with Google. And I don’t have to install any retarded iTunes software to get my device up and running and fully sync’d. In fact, I don’t even have to connect it to my PC for anything other than to feed the battery.
Enough about the new phone, though …
Let’s have a little talk about honesty, shall we?
Actually, on second thought, let’s not.
Sometimes the blunt truth is just a little bit more than we really want to know about.
I mean, take this for example …
Is the brutal honesty of the message really of any consequence here? Unless you’re an exhibitionist, hopelessly drunk, or are otherwise deviant , you’re not going to be doing your business on that can!
However … some “dirty little secrets” are sort of fun to share with a select few …
Of course, this is something that HAS been known to not end so well …
Meanwhile, there will always be things that none of really care to know …
Yeah, seriously … not something ANYBODY wants to find out about.
Some things aren’t necessarily bad things, but they definitely don’t belong in the casually public domain …that’s WalMart for ya!
I appreciate the girl’s enthusiasm, though!
And let’s face it, there ARE far worse things one can wear in public …
That’s just one of those moments where we are confronted with yet another dreaded memory that will scar our brains for life. As we all know, unless we’re lucky enough to be smitten with dementia, Alzheimer’s or amnesia, we’re stuck with these accidental images in life. There is no denying …
and as if that weren’t far enough down the rabbit hole, there are those who sometimes accomplish the unimaginable …
If you chose to NOT click to enlarge, I truly do understand …
Here’s a treat to help you recover from that last eye sore:
You’re right, I owe you something a tad more soothing than that, don’t I?
So, I had a good time hanging out with my aunt and uncle last night. As the Spousal Unit and I were debating whether or not we were ready to leave Spanky’s, my uncle walks through the door. Well, seeings how that was the first time coming out to play in that particular litter box, there was no chance of us leaving him there alone!
And we had to introduce him to our many friends at our beloved pub …
But let’s save that for another blogging for some other time …
So, what else did this weekend hold in store for me? Apart from what packing we have done and the beginning of the move across town, of course. I can only hope that the “weather event” headed to our region on Thursday does not bring another major dumping of snow!
Ah, who cares about the weather … did you hear about the recent row in West Yorkshire over the town council’s decision to rename a renowned landmark? Yeah, they took down the old sign which read “Tickle Cock Bridge” and replaced it with one that read “Tittle Cott.” Yeah, I know … how gay is THAT?
Well, the elder citizens of that fair town raised holy hell and saw to it that its original, and they say rightful, name was restored earlier this week.
Seems the goodly folks of the United Kingdom have enjoyed a long history of scrounging up risque and otherwise entertaining names for many of their towns and landmarks …
Shetland and Orkney both have towns name “Twatt” …
Sandy Balls is the name of a resort of sorts in Hampshire, England; the name dates back to Henry VIII
You have Fingringhoe in Essex, England … an alleyway by the name of Back Passage in London … there’s Shitterton in Dorset, England and Fanny Hands Lane in Lincolnshire, England.
But wait, there’s more! You also have …
Cockshoot Close, Oxfordshire, England
Funbag Drive, Watford, England
Fanny Avenue, Derbyshire, England
Beaver Close, Surrey, England
Dick Court, Lanarkshire, Scotland
Felch Square, Powys, Wales
Lickfold, West Sussex, England
Rimswell, East Riding of Yorkshire, England
Spanker Lane, Nether Heage, Derbyshire
Cocknmouth Close, West End, Surrey
Friars’ Entry, Oxford, Oxfordshire, England
Butt Hole Road, Conisbrough, South Yorkshire
Cockermouth, Allerdale, Cumbria
Fine Bush Lane, Ruislip
Ladygate Lane, Ruislip
Hornyold Road, Malvern, Worcestershire, England
Crotch Crescent, Marston, Oxford, England
Cumming Court, Pitville, Gloucestershire, England
The PC police are gonna have their hands full in that part of the world!
Well, I guess I best get back to packing this house. Hopefully we can sneak out to catch Oren’s last set at Bluemont Winery later this afternoon.
Until next time …
If you really think I’m the sort that recognizes Valentine’s Day as a legit observance … well … are you really serious?
Yeah, the scrawny, awkward, big nosed, Dumbo-eared kid that almost never received a single voluntary Valentine’s Day card from a girl is going to be stoked about stirring up all those childhood memories once a year.
Yeah … right.
All the same … I was a goodly husband and allowed the Spousal Unit to sleep in without the obligatory weekend morning routine that goes something along the lines of: “Guess who woke me up and told me you wanted to play?”
Aren’t I a great guy?
Actually, my snoring and generalized grouchiness found me in the guest room bed and as I started to wish myself a happy Valentine’s Day I was plagued by a story my mother told me when I was a little boy …
. . .
So, I crawled out of bed, tip-toed downstairs and kicked the dog a few times. The good news is, she’d already been heavily abused by a psychopathic girlfriend when she was a puppy, so I figure there’s really not a lot to feel guilty about. I mean, it’s all she really knows so what’s the difference?
And here’s the real kicker for me …the biggest, loudest, most obnoxious “animal rights advocates” that I know are pro abortion. Has the irony of that ever crossed you as “funny”?
Ah, irony … where would be with out?
So anyhow, back to this morning. As is my Sunday morning habit, I snuck out of the house to grab a cup of coffee and then swung by the crack house downtown. My tranny “friend”, Pat, was — needless to say — sorely displeased that I didn’t bring him, ‘er I mean, “her” … kinda … damn, WHAT EVER ….
I failed to bring a card, and I was empty handed, not even a small clutch of flowers …
This was not a good moment at the local crack house for Buck …
Like I should have been surprised. [sigh]
I swung by the crack house last week to tidy up the place a bit and and to do a little painting. Let’s face it, crack houses are not known as being the paramount of interior design. Some say it’s because crack whores and trannies are vile, slovenly people, but I say the people who claim such things are just being ignorant.
But that’s neither here nor there … I was nice enough to do something good for the local crack addicts and Pat took it as a personal affront …
Pat can really be a violent little bitch sometimes, lemme tell ya.
. . .
So, as I surfed the internet this morning to find something really thoughtful to send to my wife as an email link (you know the routine, “honey, if we weren’t so broke and if I weren’t such a stubborn pig who refuses to cow-tow to this nonsensical farce of a tradition, this is what I would have bought for you …”
You guys ever try that? It might not get you a steak and a beejer, but you really should give it a try some time.
Just make sure you’re not sending them links to things like vacuum cleaners, informercial diet “secrets” or blow-up dolls. I’ve tried all three and let me tell ya … things went better for me this morning at the local crack house.
This morning, however, I found something so profoundly wondermous that I had to share it with the world. I hope Mama-Buck doesn’t feel the least bit cheapened by me sharing this with all of you before I even show it to her …
This morning, though … I discovered that I actually DO love chocolate!
You see, back when I was a wee kid, I’d purchased a massive 2 lb bag of chocolate chips at the Commissary (the equivalent of a grocery store on a military base) late one afternoon and tucked them in a my book bag to munch on the next day at school. As it turns out, I ate the entire bag, mostly during the afternoon. While on the school bus ride home, my stomach began to let me know that I had just made a mistake that it was going to make sure I remembered for the rest of my life.
While on the bus ride home, I turned about 20 shades of increasingly pale white as well as an overwhelming urge to vomit while the opposite end of the digestive tract was fighting back an intense yearning to explode as well. Somehow, I made it to the end of the bus ride, I even made it a half block from the bus stop to a small common area behind by house. As I approached the gate into our back yard, the nausea and dizziness overcame me and I immediately doubled over and began projectile vomiting in a manner that I had never known and could only pray that I would never experience again …
Of course, I was still too young to know anything about what was to come a mere decade or so later when I discovered the joys of what is sometimes referred to as “binge drinking”, but alas, I digress.
The rest of that afternoon and evening was spent in a nauseated stupor, mostly seated on the toilet so my body could violently discharge the massive amounts of chocolate that had passed too far earlier in the day to be evacuated orally.
All this to say that I was a HUGE non-fan of chocolate for many, many years to come …
Ah, yes … chocolate!
How I love thee … let me count the ways …
Come on … tell me this is not the coolest use of chocolate … ever!!!!
Oh … YES!
And it doesn’t necessarily have to be fashioned into pieces of clothing and the like. Oh, no … sometimes au nautural ain’t so bad either!
I must admit there are times when chocolate just doesn’t cut it for me.
Are you familiar with the mighty mealworm? Staple diet for pet lizards and other captive animals …
There’s some sicko out west who got the “great” idea to explore the wonderful world of chocolate delicacies and stumbled upon something that I, personally, consider to be an epic failure …
Remember our friends, the mighty mealworms? Yeah, a guy by the name of Larry Peterman decided covering those [faux curse] with chocolate somehow turn them from vomit inducing to delectable.
Seriously … you can drop by his website, HOTLIX and check out his entire line of candies and confections that mostly feature bizarre and perfectly distasteful insects in the center.
In the meantime, check out this sampling of “treats” …
Yeah, my sentiments, exactly!
But anyhow …
As I continued my search for “I love you so much I’d buy you this if I weren’t such a cheap turd” pretend presents, I got distracted thinking about how much I miss my Koi pond as well as aquariums in general. As the caffeine settled in, it occurred to me: why not try and combine the best of BOTH worlds???
Mama Buck said, “Uh … yeah. Not a chance.”
. . .
A little while later she was on her laptop, Facebook on one browser tab, and some online store in another. She called me over to point out what SHE thinks would have been the perfect gift for me to give …
It was at this moment that I was suddenly translated back to a crucial moment of my early childhood … even though it was many, many years later before I fully appreciated the gravity of this one little phrase the freakish little girl down the street once shared with me …
Isn’t that how it is, though?
The terms “snowpocolypse” and “snowmageddon” have quickly become over-used, and for good reason … we’re still digging out of 3 FEET of this stuff and now they’re calling for upwards of another2 feet tonight. It’s hard to not talk or write about it, though, as this is quickly becoming an historic event. This weekend we toppled the all-time record for a single snowfall: the previous record was 28 inches set back in 1922.
We slammed that one with a full 34.5″ inches Saturday.
With today’s snowfall it seems that we’ll be surpassing the all-time single season total accumulation by a WIDE margin.
. . .
So, Mikey Rez and I got to talking a while back and in the course of our conversation the subject of making documentaries came up. At that point, Larry (the Snowshark), was a local phenomenon. The only documented sighting being the Shack (the “tiki bar” behind Spanky’s). As we bantered about the sorts of documentaries that could be done which might involve the lives and times of any of the regulars or barflies, we stumbled across the perfect name for our production company:
The Recovery Channel
Your world … the morning after.
Personally, I really liked that one! In fact, I dare say I was not alone.
I mention this because the first documentary is most likely going to involve the Snowpocolypse and the plague of snow beasts we’ve already had to survive.
For years now the mysterious migrations of the snow shark have confounded biologists. Where do they come from, where are they going, how did they get here and — most importantly — WHY?
Fortunately for the world of science, I am the resident ambassador to the secretive land of the sub-atomic beer vortices. Here … or should I say, “there” … lies a world in which the laws of quantum physics reign supreme … where the impossible is possible, where that which seems unseemly is instead not, but instead rather seemalbe … a world where it is actually possible to eff the ineffable …
It is from this place where the manifestation of localized gravity storms arises.
But we’re getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?
My point being: the purpose behind the migrations of the snow sharks is — thanks to the wonders of subatomic beer physics — painfully clear to see. Being the opportunistic predators that they are, they are simply following the migrations of ….
the snow seal:
Which is, as it turns out, the snow shark’s favorite dish!
In fact, it’s a staple part of their diet and they will die within months without it.
Unfortunately for those of us in Leesburg, there’s something else on the snow shark’s desired menu …
Yeah, that’s right … Larry is specifically after Mikey Rez. For reasons I am not at liberty to discuss, there’s something special about Mikey …
Ok, you locals can knock it off … we know his mother was rather fond of that way of introducing him to her friends as “spatial” …
But as we were …
There’s something special about Mikey’s anatomy that makes him a delicacy in the world of snow sharks. Without snow cow here to save us (he was arrested and our lawyer has instructed me to not discuss any of the details of his arrest nor the charges that may, or not, be filed in the coming hours) … we have only ourselves to rely upon.
We have to work as a team and make sure that the Rez is not caught by the snow shark.
What you may not know is that, without Mikey Rez, the very cosmic fiber that holds this town together will come unwound and all hell will break loose.
And this is of importance to you too, dear reader … should the demons be loosed, the cloud of doom and chaos that comes with it will spread via my fingertips — through this keyboard — and into your screen …
And ultimately into your mind …
Believe it or not, Mikey Rez is the Laughing Buddha of this generation.
He’s a Magic Negro …
… and the Pied Piper …
all wrapped into one.
As such, it is vital to our survival that we protect our Rez.
. . .
Snow sharks, however, are currently the least of our worries.
Right now, even at this very moment, I have Mikey on a 24 hour a day watch. What I cannot do, however, is protect the rest of the fair citizens of this strange and wondrous little town.
I say that because the magnitude of the coming storm makes it inevitable that snowanimals which have remained hidden for centuries are certain to make an appearance in the coming hours and days to come.
Be afraid, my friends …
Be very, very afraid.
I’m serious too, dudes! Have you ever encountered the stripped snow possum?
That’s one badass marsupial that you do NOT want to tangle with.
In much the same way that garlic can be used to ward off certain evil spirits, and a crucufix can be used to ward off vampires, there’s a very special talisman that can keep you safe from the ravages of the snow possum …
And for the very special, stupidly low price of four easy payments of $39.99, you too can own your very own ” ‘Snowpossum Be Gone’ Magic Talisman and Soap Dispenser!”
Not available in stores anywhere!
. . .
Of course, if you’re a real cheapshit, you’re always welcome to give THIS a try …
Good luck with that …
. . .
All of the stress surrounding the coming storm has been rough on my nerves. In short, they’re beyond frayed. So much so that I’m starting to have some pretty intense stress dreams and nightmares.
Last night, after a long — way too long — afternoon of imbibing and Golden Tee, I finally fell asleep, albeit a very light and tosssy-turny sort of a sleep.
And as I drifted off into the dark black haze of the unknowing, the darkness swiftly became increasingly brighter until the entire universe around me was sopping in a bright, intense white blaze.
Without knowing how (isn’t that dreams almost ALWAYS go????) I found myself seated in a large front-loader sort of a rig.
I was plowing a path across a frozen lake and as I drove I grinned a large, smug grin, knowing for certain that my efforts to blaze a path to the tent city of drunken ice fishermen would surely land me in their good graces.
And when it comes to ice fishermen, there’s only one thing in greater supply than ice:
As I pushed my way through the blizzard conditions and mounds of snow-drift, I heard a strange, albeit vaguely familiar, sound. It was a rumble, yet the distinct sound of something very, very large was crackling beneath me.
Before the thoughts could form themselves into words, all hell broke loose …
Suddenly, everything was silent except for the screams of abject terror within. I was instantly plunged into a suffocating sea of unimaginable cold and pain.
Lucky for me, I was wearing my magical thermal undies!
What, you may ask, are magic thermal undies …
and what makes them so magical?
Upon being completely immersed in waters colder than 55 degrees, you are instantly transported to the closest shoreline.
Granted, that was a rather nifty benefit, but as I sat there on the shore attempting to regain my composure I couldn’t help but notice the denziens of the ice fishing tent city, hundreds of yards even further away.
As I sighed in frustration, knowing that my precious, golden nectar was no longer within reach, a little snow gnome walked along my side and snickered an evil little, Leprechaun-like snicker.
I snorted angrily, “What the hell are you laughing at, you little snow turd?”
SnowGnome: “Why,” he cackled, “your naivete, of course!”
Confused, I blinked my eyes a few times, remaining confusedly silent.
The SnowGnome loosened his belt, reached around into the back of his pants — so deep that I feared he might be attempting to give one of his internal organs a massage — and a moment later pulled his hand back up with a pair binoculars.
He pushed them towards me, still grinning maniacally.
“And what the hell,” I asked, “am I supposed to do with that?”
SnowGnome: “Take them, you fool … take them and look across the icy waters, just beyond what should have been your watery grave!”
“You mean the ice fishing camp?”
He shook his head in irritation and barked, “Take and look, silly mortal FOOL!”
I was too cold to start a fight with this little imp of a demon so I took the looking glass and focused my eyes on the camp hundreds of yards away, in the midst if the frozen waters.
As I focused, I was surprised at what I saw …
Those weren’t drunken fishermen!
This could only be the lost clan of Up-Helly-Aa Vikings!
This particular Viking clan, or so legend has it, went into a frightful fit one journey when it was discovered by the crew that the captain had not packed enough alcoholic provisions.
Upon learning that their daily ration of warming swill had run out, a mutiny ensued.
The crew set their longboat afire and sank to the frozen depths with her.
I looked again, convinced that what I had just seen could not be.
Focusing more towards the blazing fire which seemed to be at the center of the camp, I continued to chase away the thoughts of shock and disbelief.
I turned my attention to the SnowGnome and asked in a whisper, “I thought the Ice Vikings went down with their ship?”
With a cackle he answered, “They did, they did!!! But Loki, their patron demi-god of alcoholic mishaps, snatched their souls and have kept them hidden from Valhalla ever since.”
He paused, grinning in that but wait, there’s more” sort of way.
“Every once in a while Loki will stir the skies with his finger and cause monstrous snow events like the blizzard plaguing your people now. It is during these times that the Ice Vikings are released from their icy lair to wreak havoc amongst the pansy-ass citizens of your modern world.”
I stared at him in silence, confused.
“Even your own god,” he snarled, “is sorely disappointed with the effeminate ways of your people.”
As I tried to make sense of his slurred speech and strange words, I was suddenly overcome by a blinding white-out of snow and wind.
The wind suddenly stopped and I was enveloped in complete and utter silence.
All I could hear was my own breath and, it almost seemed, the beating of my own heart.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my left foot.
I snapped my attention from that which can almost be considered not worthy of consideration and looked down at my leg …
To my shock and horror, I saw the most terrifying snowanimal ever known …
Just as I noticed the first hint of blood, the Croc evidently sensed the tension in my muscles …
As he rolled his eyes back into his head: Oh holy dear mother of Bob, I silently cried out to myself, this bastard’s going into a death roll,
I’m a goner!
At just that moment — from out of nowhere — a man jumped onto the back of the Snow-Croc, wedging his hands between the tip of the jaw and its snout, and he — in an instant — wrestled the beast away from my barely torn flesh.
“CRIKEY, MATE! That was a CLOSE one!”
My eyes blinked in complete and utter confusion once again. The only thing that amazed me more than the fact that I was sitting face to face with Steve Irwin was the fact that the edge of the lake had melted slightly and the Snow-Croc went from being a stealthy white beast to — somehow — about five shades of green.
I shook my head and the only words that came to mind instantly blurted out of my mouth, “How’d he turn so green so quickly?”
“Oh,” Stevo laughed, “this’ns a Sheila ya see?”
I shrugged my shoulders, still perfectly confused.
“Ya see,” he grinned maniacally, “if ya stick yer thumb up the bum of a female snow croc, she’ll turn completely docile right away and — for reasons nobody rightly understands — she’ll turn a silly shade of green too.”
I blinked a few more times.
Steve blurted out again, “In’t that Uh’MAZIN?!?!?
“I mean, look at her …
“Whe’s a real beaut, is’nt she?
“I love these animals …”
I finally spoke up, “You have your thumb inside of her asshole?”
“Yeah,” he smiled innocently, “she really enjoys it!”
I blinked again … confused.
Steve broke the silence: “Wanna have a go at it?”
. . .
. . . to be continued …
Oh … my … freaking … BOB!
So much for the brilliant idea of driving across town to bring one of my servers online. I’ll try that trip to the office some other time; the roads are downright treacherous!
Treacherous, I say!
So, we’re quickly approaching “storm of the century” status. The measurements I took a couple hours ago averaged roughly 27 inches and I dare say we’ve seen no less than another 2 inches ever since. And they’re calling for up to another foot now that the storm has stalled over the D.C. area!
. . .
My animals are not the smartest that ever lived, they proved as much today!
Sparky, my Jack Russell, decided she was going to follow me when I attempted to drive across town earlier. I had no idea until I got home 20 minutes or so later. She was a couple blocks from the house following in the tracks left by my truck. To her it must have felt like traversing a major glacial crevace!
All the same, it was funny as all get-out seeing her try to run away from the truck as I came lumbering back up the hill through the neighborhood.
Mr. Floyd, our bigass white tomcat thought he’d get a bit adventurous too. I let him and Sparky out at the same time this morning and sort of forgot about them while I extricating the truck from its snowy grave.
Floyd, as is his habit, started his first outing of the day by dashing across the porch and jumping onto the fence, using the guard rail on the porch as a halfway point to propel himself off of.
He then made the perfectly less than advisable decision to jump off his narrow 6 foot tall perch onto what he thought was terra firma.
Nothing could be further from the truth!
He eventually made his way to the door on the back deck about an hour later! LOL
Bear in mind, we’re talking over two feet of snow and significantly deeper drifts!
Both of those buggers were lucky to have lived. With a Nor’easter of biblical proportions like the one we’re buried in now comes the inevitable visitations of the snow sharks …
But this isn’t just any snow storm …
As I made my up the hill here in the neighborhood I saw a small white figure out of the corner of my eye. In total Steve Irwin style I jumped out of the truck and started digging into the snow bank. Thank god I had my camera!
The last time I saw a snow turtle was in 1979 … and I was as high as giraffe pussy that night.
Same night I was introduced to the snow frog.
It’s probably no coincidence that this plague of snow frogs we’re experiencing comes on the heels of an evening whereupon I drank entirely too much beer and ate far too much chili.
Here’s just the ones that I pulled off the windshield of my truck this morning:
This storm is so intense that we’ve seen the return of the greater Loudoun glacier! So, maybe that whole thing I had about global warming a few weeks ago was just an inconvenient joke.
Some of the rarer species of snow animals only come out when the accumulation totals are 20 inches and more. Today we are witnessing some species that were previous thought extinct.
Shortly before sunrise I was assaulted and later violated by the greater Loudoun mountain snowrilla …
Believe it or not, the Snow Joey is actually the marsupial equivalent of the hyena. While I was being humiliated and emotionally scared for life by the snowrilla, a pair of snow Joeys stood guard and just cackled like the foul beasts they are …
And the biggest risk of all is the single deadliest animal in the snow kingdom.
Don’t venture out into this stuff today if you don’t have to. When this snow gets this deep, the risk of attack becomes almost inevitable.
Yes, sports fans … the snow snake.
What is amazing about the snow snake is that it is the deadliest snake on Earth. What makes that amazing is the fact that they have no fangs, no venom, and they do not constrict their prey like the python and constrictor species.
Yet they are the deadliest snake on Earth …
Typically, snow snakes dine on the pygmy snow monkey …
If you’ve never tried them before, you must! They taste great, not too filling, and goes perfect with cheap beer and peanuts! I prefer them sushimi style, but they fry up really well too.
. . .
With light snow falls of several inches or less, snow snakes pose little to no threat. As the depth increases so too does the risk of attack.…
Hey cool, Jay Bizzle and Eh’mi just showed up. Big balls those two, made it all the way up the hill without an attack. Must’ve been the smell of bacon that lead them up the hill.
I dare say Spanky’s is about the only place in the entire county that’s open today and it sounds like we’re following Jay Bizzle and his bride out for round two.
Well, folks … I guess I best take a quick shower and strap on the snow boots.
. . .
You’re probably wondering how it is that the snow snake can be the deadliest snake on Earth if it can’t bite and doesn’t constrict, huh?
It crawls up your ass and freezes you to death.
True story, but that’ll have to wait for some other blog some other time.
Stay warm, sports fans!
And don’t go out on the roads unless you HAVE to.
Or if you’re headed out to Spanky’s. We’ll check in again later!
Good day to you kind citizens of Bucks Werld, and a happy February to all!
It has been awhile since I have had anything worth writing about, and I doubt today will be any different but I will try anyway.
The nerd herd here at the office has unexplainably lost all of its pretty womanly talent (receptionists) and now us dorks are manning the front office until they return, and its glaringly obvious why we don’t do this job every day, we suck at it.
We have no people skills, we have failed to adapt in socially acceptable ways to everyday situations, which is why most of us are slightly weird, mentally gangly loser’s anydamnway.
It’s a good thing that this company’s public representation is the nice ladies that are the face of the front office, otherwise we would go bankrupt.
We tend to turn the music up loud and throw things at each other while screaming expletives and making crude drawings on the white boards until we can find some poor loser fellow employee whose left their computer unlocked so we can put a semi-nude picture of David Hasselhoff holding/molesting puppies as their desktop background.
I’ve seen zoo chimpanzees show more decorum while flinging poo at each other.
Speaking of poo flinging, and animals in general…
This whole recent “snow animals” direction that Buck has taken up with seems to reside a little too close to beastiality than I would prefer to live, so I am not going to comment on his: whale/pig/cow/glove/elephant/shark/fist/kangaroo/frog, menagerie of unhealthy obsessional delusions for the moment, but I do reserve the right to hold judgment at a later date. (at which time I may enlist the help of our fair and unbiased readership to attempt to hold him accountable for the “things that have been seen, cannot be UNseen.” effect. )
Moving on before I incur the wrath of Buck…
Well Christmas came and went, New Years came and went, hell even janularry came and went and now 1/12th of 2KX is gone and I have nothing to show for it other than a few dozen empty 6 pack containers of Guinness and a pair of skis that are one full ski short of being a pair of skis.
I still have both the poles though, so while I’m screaming down the hill on one ski, throwing empty bottles of beer at the little ski-monkey kids, I can whack the ones I miss with my poles.
Skiing is fun as hell dude.
Living in the great white north as I do, there are two things we have no shortage of here…snow and beer. ( I will not include fat women in this short list because that would be more than two things, and I typed the word two already so I can’t go back and change it now)
The snow is awesome cause it make the lakes freeze solid so we can fish without our boats sinking (we have old boats). This is known as “drunken frozen lake fishing”, and we tow the boats right out on the lake and drill holes through the ice and drunkenly try to cast our lures into the holes we drilled.
We never catch more than a buzz, but we sure have fun doing it. When we are drunk enough we pull the boats back off the lake and drag them through the city streets (after lighting them afire of course).
(I heart Guinness)
(our boat was slightly smaller than this, though the fire just just as spectacular, expecially at about 45mph)
I suppose this is why our boats normally sink during the summer, “drunken unfrozen lake fishing”, season (I understand they have this new thing out for putting under your boat, it has wheels or something, weird). This might explain why our relationship with the local authorities might be a little strained (it’s usually their boats we borrow while they are out driving their little cop cars around, ok that was only one time, long memories those cops).
(true story…)( tank de laud for the statue of limitations, and the Marine Corps taking me away from the area for awhile)
The only down side is when we are done drinking we have to pick up all the empty beer bottles and cans cause normally in the summer we can just fillem with water and watch em sink to the bottom of the lake, but frozen water don’t sink, so our beer cans float on top of the ice and we have to pick em up and put em in the back of the neighbors truck.
Believe it or not this is a better method of fishing than our former and more explosive method.
(better being relative of course)
I have nearly worn out my Christmas gift of BuckyBalls making intricate shapes and spheres and helixical pointless do-dads. My coworkers have also taken a liking to my balls and ask to play with them quite often. The down side to this is that I work with mostly men, and the girls I DO work with seem disinterested. So I don’t share them as often as I would like.
Meow its time for a signature section of mine called…
Nuthin’s Vogon Poetry Corner
Today I would like to share with you a little gem that I havn’t written yet, so I had better start.
…and here it is!!
Senility is Bliss
roses are red
tacos are pink
I saw my gran nekkid
now I need a shrink
Water is blue
fire is red
I dont understand
how grandpas not dead
mustard is yellow
lettuce is green
you cannot unsee
what has been seen
Salt is to sprinkle
pepper to grind
I bet grandpas thankful
hes almost blind
Gran struts proud nekkid
says shes in her prime
Gran doesnt care
**takes deep bow**
OK people I has to go, work is over and it’s time for supper, and I shant be late.
Talk at cha later!
I awoke this morning in a quiet and calm mood. Didn’t stay out too late … didn’t have too many beers. I gave my mind a few minutes to discover if there might be any remote quadrant of the body proper which was in a state of relative discomfort. None was to be found.
One of the corners of the auto-pilot wiring of my psyche – one that tends to be, unlike the rest of me, a morning person – speaks up, “Neato!”
My dog, Sparky, had been attempting to sleep at my feet last night. Given the amount of tossing and turning that one tends to experience when sleeping on a not-so-built-for-sleep sofa, she didn’t get much of it.
Jack Russell terriers, if you haven’t noticed, tend to be a bit on the high strung side.
And yeah, I said “sofa” …
Told ya, the bacon thing really isn’t going over very well here at la casa del Buck.
(pics here are almost always of the “click to enlarge” variety)
Anyhow … I let Sparky out to begin her elaborate morning routine of divining the perfect points of evacuation. And with this one, it’s every bit as formulaic as it can possibly get.
Much like the directions on the back of a shampoo bottle except in place of “wash” one places a single word that somehow embodies the intense, almost frenetic, manner in which she goes about intently scrutinizing randomly disjointed spots of grass in search of that Point of Perfection.
Nothing less will do, unless it’s a miserable, rainy day.
Otherwise, she invests a level of energy into this search for that point of perfection that one might expect from a knight in search of uncovering a matter of divine providence!
To wit, she deposits, whether by way of micturation or defecation matters not. And yes, the former, in every case, preceding the latter.
And herein we replace the word “rinse.”
Still with me here?
Yeah, it’s Search, Deposit, Repeat.
But anyhow … I’m getting side-tracked here …
The air was calm and the sky tinted with a colorful hint of a glow from a sunrise surely taking place on the other side of the dark, looming grayness. It clearly felt like snow was soon to come.
I quietly stretched my arms, taking in a deep breath of the crisp, fresh air. As I shook my head in bemusement at Sparky’s frenetic search for said Point of Perfection, a slight breeze picked up. I wrapped my arms around my shoulders and rocked quickly on my bare feet, attempting to only have smaller parts of the foot in contact with the deck — which hadn’t seen temperatures above freezing in days — at any one given moment.
As I turned my back to the wind I looked down and smiled as I watched the first hints of snow dancing past my feet. There is something so soothing and serene about the snow. It brings some strange sense of purity and innocence with it.
But, like much in life, appearances are often little more than a mirage.
The snow, you see, brings a certain ‘something’ out of the animal within us all. Maybe it’s because the snow covers everything, blurring all that we are otherwise accustomed to seeing, yet rarely even noticing, in our day to day lives, and in the sudden absence of that which is familiar there is a resulting sense of panic and potential peril. In the animal world this may happen because the food that birds regularly forage for is usually in plain sight.
Suddenly, everything has changed in an instant and nothing is as it just quite recently was.
How is a bird to know whether or not there may still be anything resembling food beneath this mysterious white veil???
Yes … fear of the unknown and hunger can bring out something downright fiendish in virtually any animal.
And when that fear comes as a result of snow fall, that can only mean one thing …
Well, two … if you really think about it.
Or more …
But in the context of this story, at least at this point within whatever portion of said story is about to unfolded before you, it can only mean one thing!
And you remember what happened the last time we had a deep snow and the ensuing schools of snow sharks that came with it, right?
Yeah, we almost lost Mikey Rez!
And we don’t want that!
Man, I really need to arrange something where you guys can listen to what I’m listening to while I write this! Oh man, that would so thoroughly change things!
But anyhow …
Perhaps you know how drivers are here in the mid-Atlantic region of the U.S. (and it grows increasingly rude and random the further north one drives. Well, to a point) They can be biggest collection of untrained, ignorant, self-centered, feckless morons absolutely devoid of any level of what is known as situational awareness … and with cell phones shoved unhumanly deep inside their ear holes!!!! These people can hardly, if at all, accomplish a feat as simple as parallel parking; well, at least not without undue anxiety and freakishly jerkish miscues that would make Michael J. Fox conducting a symphony look absolutely normal.
But I digress … my point is, “Virginia” drivers really are a difficult breed. I attribute most of that to the transient nature of the D.C. area, but that’s another subject for another blog some other day.
Today we have far more pressing matters to contend with.
Who will save us from the snow shark?
A mere few weeks ago we were beyond safe as we were blessed by a visit from one of the rarest, most severely endangered species of mammal on this planet: the Arctic shaven snow pig!
And … there’s a little something your old uncle Buck here has been keeping from you.
Olga, Leesburg’s own patron swine, flew, non-stop, from the mountains outside of Leesburg all the way to Haiti … did I mention this was NON STOP??? … to volunteer after the tragic earthquake.
Yeah … it doesn’t take a very active imagination to come to grips with what direction that decision ultimately took …
Without our token Arctic shaven snow pig, where then can we turn for salvation from the certain return of the snow sharks?!?!?!
Of course, the answer is simple!
Remember my reference to the local traffic earlier? Well, just the mere mention of precipitation brings out most Neanderthalically idiotic driving tendencies imaginable from these people.
Snow Cow, due to the uncertainty of this weekend’s weather, instead chose to not cut short his stay at some weird hedonistic resort somewhere in the Caribbean …
Come on … are you trying to tell me – with a straight face – that you’d rather deal with gridlock traffic and worse?!?!?!
In this hypothetical question, you’re trying to walk a mile on Snow Cow’s shoe’s, not the ladies’.
You did understand that, right?
All of this to say that I dare say that I very well may not be getting around to finishing my official blog disclaimer today. I’ve yet to check in with work, no less shower, shave, or brush my teeth.
I did, however, accomplish the other earlier; quite obviously … do you think this much chattery and creativity is possible with all of that blockage?
Of COURSE NOT!
All of this to say that you want to keep your eyes open for this man …
Well, D’UHHH … he’s our savior from the snow shark!
Oh, you mean why should we keep our eyes open for him?
Because we want to make sure he is able to approach a snow shark without being the distractions of being engaged in conversation. So, in an effort to make certain he remains undistracted we have to ensure that he basically goes unnoticed … and we do that by keeping an eye out for him and then pretending that we never actually saw him … but yet we can, with a clean conscience, comfort our fellow Spankians with the knowledge that He is in our midst … somewhere.
But make sure to remind anybody that you tell that you saw Him to remember to strictly adhere to the rule that they must keep their eyes open and remember to forget what they saw.
Because the first rule of Snow Cow is that you never talk about Snow Cow.
And we’re not … I’m just blogging … that’s different.
Speaking of which, I really should be going now.
Until next time, remember …
And now …
A Word From Our Sponsor(s) …
Today’s hearty servings of tossed brain droppings and assorted mental excrement would not have been possible without our good friend Mikey Rez and the goodlier people still at …
That’s right, sports fans … it’s time once again to have your horizons expanded, despite the fact that you are probably unaware that your horizons were even in need of expansion. But that’s why you keep me around, isn’t it?
How else would you have learned about things like mental laxatives or banal lube?
* To give credit where credit is due, it was my old blogging friend Agent Neptune who turned me on to the inconvenient realities of cranial constipation and the whole concept of mental laxatives. His patent-pending Lax-a-Thot is genuinely inspired.
But anyhow …
Of Mice, of Men and of Pornographic Pachyderms …
I’ve been getting quite a bit of “Dude, why???” from the Spanky’s crew.
Seems the whole elephant butt thing was met with quite a few mixed emotions.
Some were disgusted. As you can plainly see, such was also the case with the snow man there to the left.
If you think it’s a bad thing to see, just imagine being on the receiving end of something like that …
and not knowing it’s coming!
Yeah, talk about “highly unwelcome!”
Although, there is at least one or two people from my favorite little pub who’d probably enjoy something like that.
Odder still is the the number of people who actually questioned if that was a real photo, or if it was something that someone manipulated with some sort of graphics software.
Well, I firmly believe that we are held accountable by God according to the gifts we’ve been given. As the smartest (and, dare I say: most humble) man in town, it is therefore my responsibility to enlighten those whose minds have not been endowed with the manifest wisdom mine own has.
Case in point: pachyderm love is infinitely more complex than Llama love. Llama’s pretty much just spit … that’s about it. Seriously, what the fixation is that some have with llama love absolutely escapes me.
Apart from having more wool, and wool of a better quality than most sheep …
But let’s try and stay focused for a change, shall we?
Yeah, if you’re so inclined, you can click to view the full sized image.
If nothing else, though, you can at least thank me for not assaulting your eye holes with the larger, more explicit version of that pic.
Am I wrong?
For my doubting Thomas’ and Tomasina’s …
Yeah, much like that shocking ad campaign that asks, “Centipedes in my vagina? It’s more likely than you think!”
… if you’ve never seen it, you can click on the link above labeled, “Vowel Movements” … click and enjoy …
… go ahead, go check it out … I’ll wait for you!
* * *
What’d you think of the video?
That’n made me laugh out loud.
Anyhow … where were we?
Ah, yes … elephant and elephant strangeness!
I was relieved to discover that the fixation isn’t 100% trunk to butt action …
Okay, so maybe it’s really not all that much easier on the eyes …
But here’s the thing … and, believe it or not, I actually do have somewhat of a point here … it’s not just the elephants that are into these sorts of things.
Shockingly enough, mankind — after countless eons of observing this sort of lurid behavior — has decided it wants in on some of the action too!
Uh, yeah … that’s just nasty!
Nastier still is the fact that someone thought this whole experience would be good for a friggen children too!!!
I know … I”m sorry …
. . .
Did that help any?
Here, maybe this will help make it all better …
Ya know, it COULD be worse …
I wonder what sort of grade he got for THAT science project! Hahahahahaha!
Anyhow … I did promise to change the subject, did I not?
Moving along …
Did that clear your mental palate?
Mama-Buck is ready to do all that crappy responsibility stuff. Grocery store, pay bills, blah blah blah.
I just want drink a few beers and enjoy the games!
In parting …
Alright, I better get going!
* * *
Yeah, it’s amazing what a little make-up and a professional photographer can do, huh?
Something that goes way back for me is the wonderful — albeit typically unwanted — gift of photograph hijacking. I am proud to say that this tradition has been passed along to, and warmly embraced by, all three of my sons! I mean, who DOESN’T enjoy the occasional photograph hijack?
There are various forms of hijacking, each of which having their own pluses and minuses. My personal favorite is the lost or unattended camera. Oh, the fun one can have when a stranger’s camera is found unattended.
And I have to say, the magic really is best saved for times when it definitely is a perfect stranger’s camera! My sons share my fondness of such opportunities and are not like to let those moments go wasted. For whatever it’s worth, we always make sure that the camera is either placed right back where it was found or, when circumstances warrant, taken to the appropriate Lost & Found office. Of course, not without taking a few choice pictures for the camera’s owner to later discover and attempt to decipher!
Better still are the precious moments that families or couples attempt to capture something special and just being in the background at just the right moment! We’ve all had moments where we were at least tempted to make a funny face. My wife gets a bit fussy when I capitalize on those opportunities, and I’ve yet to get her see the light that such things, in their own strange way, bring lifetimes of smiles to perfect strangers.
I mean, show me something that holds as much magic as being able to bring a smile or chuckle to a perfect strangers face, without even being there!
Better still are the moments where the wholly unplanned and totally unexpected appears.
Here, then, is a sampling of some of my favorite “Kodak” moments of the latter sort!
(click on each image to enlarge)
How luck can you get catching a moment like THAT on film??? LOL
and since we’re on the subject of venison …
Well, sports fans, I have lots to do and precious little time to get it all done.
OH WAIT …
In response to yesterday’s post about Olympic beer belly judging, a few people asked me for an example of what a “perfect” beer belly looks like …
Remember, there are 3 criteria …
and, most importantly …
. . .
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls … beer drinkers of all ages … allow me to present to you, the current poster child of the perfect Olympiad beer belly:
Until next time …
PEACE OFF, FAUX CURSE!!
These words (“mental laxatives” and “banal lube”) are two terms which I believe perfectly fit the — to use the parlance of our time — “culture of corruption”, which dominates our political system; especially here in the U.S. To be perfectly blunt, society is in DIRE NEED of both a “mental laxative” as well as some “banal lube” ! On the one hand, the extreme left has filled the minds of an entire generation with lies of such magnitude that calling it “shit” is actually a much needed moment of comic relief. There’s constipation of epic proportions, to say the least.
On the other hand … should we decide to continue to do nothing about it, we may as well lovingly grasp the proverbial pickle barrel which we have already been bent over and hope for a liberal application of the latter.
The banality of our political system is such that we have been mentally incapacitated to the point of almost absolute incoherence … and in our dazed slumber we have been bent over said pickle barrel. If you are not going to vote these fiends out of office then all I can say is that we — collectively — deserve our own 55 gallon drum of “Banal Lube.”
And remember kiddies, when it comes to being violated in such a manner …
Too much lube is almost enough.
* * *
If you agree with the above stated opinions, you might enjoy my review of president Obama’s inauguration speech.
You might be surprised to discover how blatant Mr. Obama was in warning us of the fast changes that were in store for us all.
For those of you who cringe at my political leanings, please feel free to enjoy the following …
But before we begin … is it just me, or do the that latest TV ads of Michael Phelps pimping a “munchie joint” like Subway strike you as the least bit “curious.” I mean, yeah … of COURSE America’s newest pot-head is going to enjoy a fresh, toasty submarine sammich from Subway.
But anyhow ….
For your communist sympathizing wussies who cannot handle my political Rightness — or for those of you so masochistic that you came back to examine more of my semi-random brain droppings — I hope you enjoy my little preview (slash: aka “/”) teaser of my soon-to-be-published title:
Olympic Beer Belly Judging for Idiots
One cannot engage in Olympiad feats of beer drinking without the ensuing — dare I say, “ubiquitous” — beer belly.
Believe me, this is not an optional outcome … I am the founder, director, President and acting coach of the U.S. Olympic Beer Drinking team.
I know these things from first hand experience, okay?!
. . . so anyhow . . .
We professional beer drinkers have finally secured our rightful spot in the limelight that is the summertime Olympics. As such, it is only fitting that we begin planning now for the unavoidable eventuality that will be: The Olympic Beer Belly.
Alright, you may be wondering where this came from.
Am I wrong?
My dad and I first stumbled upon this idea while watching thousands of men pour into R.F.K. stadium for Washingotn D.C.’s first Promise Keepers rally.
We quickly realized that many of these men were quite like us: avid beer drinkers who were not ashamed of their prized afterthought of a possession: the Beer Belly.
After Pop pointed out the impressiveness of the beer bellies before us, I leaned over and asked, “Some of these men are obvious candidates for our Olympic beer drinking team, no?”
With the knowing look of an elder sage, he nodded in agreement.
It was at that moment that we began to draft the initial judging criteria.
You see … a beer belly, to be properly appreciated, must be viewed by standards greater than size alone. We finally agreed upon the following 3 elements:
* * *
Distance is a defining attribute of the perfect beer belly.
The distance of a beer belly is the horizontal distance as measured from the apex of said beer belly (the outer ring of the navel) to the outside skin of the spinal disk directly horizontal to the plane of said navel.
As such, a contestant with an excessively arched back will, most likely, be disqualified from entry into the games. In short, the straighter the spine, the greater overall protrusional distance.
disclaimer: while the word ‘protrusional’ does not show up in any legitimate dictionary, it should still be adopted by the International Olympic Committee as no other word succinctly describes the unit of measurement in question.
It is also this measurement that truly separates the fatties from the pro’s!
Quite frankly, any slob can eat and drink him (or her) self stupid to the point of developing a rolling mound of body fat that simply hangs off the waistline of its wearer. A professional beer drinker, however, is a talented athlete and shows his pride with brilliant displays of masculinity such as a firm, properly developed and hard-earned beer belly.
Another integral aspect of distance is the overall proportion to the torso of the drinking athlete. The man pictured above, although slightly on the outside of the preferred age limits of Olympic level beer drinkers, is a model of exceptional distance.
Criteria Two: Girth
While the proud and hefty ladies pictured above certainly encompass almost any definition of girth, it is vital to remember that we are talking in terms of a sporting professional.
Girth, as implied by the name, and in most simplistic terms, is the circumference of the beer belly proper.
As is the case with Distance, Girth must also be judged on the proportion of said girth as it relates to the overall physical demeanor of the athlete him (or her) self.
It is the combination of Distance and Girth that quantifies the physical stature of a professional beer belly, however …
were it only physical dimensions that separated the Pro’s from the proverbial wanna-be “Ho’s” of the universe, it would be only these two measurements that would be of importance.
As such, it is the third criteria that fully qualifies and defines a professional, beer athlete to his (or her) fullest potential.
* * *
Criteria Three: Presentation
Without doubt, the most significant aspect of any Olympic beer belly contestant is the matter of presentation.
As mentioned above, any slob can engage in a multi year binge of consumption and result in a belly of gargantuan proportions. However, it takes a skilled and disciplined athlete to create the perfect package.
The most significant ingredient in defining an Olympic quality beer belly is presentation.
I realize that I should have given you an example of Presentation instead of the picture shown above / to the right.
We have entered a very, very subjective world whereby computer models and “textbook examples” dare not tread.
For example …
While the above pictured man surely shows promise in the way of distance, there is a still a major problem …
While the same, above pictured, example of obvious professional beer drinking prowess truly exemplifies any rational definition of girth, there is still a major problem …
An intense, undeniable lack of presentation.
Presentation, my friends, is EVERYTHING!
Take, for example, the following display of spectaculous beer belliness!
Distance: 3 (MAYBE a 4) …
Girth: 4 … ‘ish.
Presentation: 10.0 (at least)
See what I mean? Presentation makes up for a WORLD of evils!
. . .
It must be said that presentation can, especially in some cases, severely backfire!
AM I WRONG?!?!?!?!
. . .
I thought not.
So, take your mental laxative …
Slather up a big, messy, guilt-ridden goop of banal lube …
. . . always remember . . .
(until next time)
. . .
A cupla things … beyond the fact that Scott Brown did not even mention the GOP in his acceptance speech AND the fact that MA voters polled said they voted BECAUSE of Obama’s socialized health care “reform” … and only 5% support it!
First: yesterday’s blog was something known as “satire.” May not have been the best satirical piece ever, but it was satire all the same.
Next: I do not condone the use of marijuana. Not quite sure why it’s illegal … I mean, we have all these groups of people who truly ARE trying to control the way we act and think. If they’re so desperate for a docile, non-violent generation of people, why not legalize weed? Ever heard of a stoner (sans alcohol) beating his wife?
Last: (and yeah, I know this makes this a few things in stead of “a couple”) the point was, the liberal blame game going on right now is every bit as ludicrous as blaming Obama for things that happened in the 70’s.
Since Obama and Pelosi are certain to start pushing hard to get their socialist Trojan Horse pushed through the gates, I think it only appropriate that we all need to learn …
Click above to learn more!
(and laugh your ass off)
But in the meantime, I think it needful for me to retract some of the bile and venom that I’ve directed towards our Commander in Chief. Watching him stump for Coakley is Massachusetts while the rest of the world was mindlessly fixated on the pain and suffering in Haiti has given me cause to pause.
I mean, let’s face it: the major media outlets have been pumping that footage into our sight holes 24/7, all weekend long!
Obama, however, chose to stand by his dear personal friend and political ally, Martha Coakley. Now that’s friendship for ya!
And why shouldn’t he? He is a brilliant campaigner! I mean, isn’t that what being a “community organizer” is all about? And to THINK that my right wing extremist, tea-baggin’ buddies were once cynical about the qualifications a community organizer had to be the POTUS!
I’m already off point, though.
The immediate point being: surely there is nothing about Obama stumping for Coakley that could possibly have a single thing to do with some Leftist — how dare some say? — “Marxist” agenda.
Am I wrong???
. . .
The bigger point being: as I look back at the past year it’s impossible to not notice some of the conservative watchdog groups who have been deriding the Obama administration for playing the “blame game.”
As we look at the world around us, it really needs to be done with the past in mind. To learn how something has come to be, you HAVE to understand from whence it came.
Unemployment has soared to the highest levels they’ve been in most young voters lifetimes!
We are facing deficits that have simply been heretofore unknown and in amounts so massive that the common man cannot fully wrap his brain around their enormity!
Detroit — in fact, the entire U.S. automotive industry — is against the ropes, taking what seems their last gasp of breath.
Banks are falling by the wayside … big banks, little banks, even one of the largest investment banking firms on the planet went, as some might say, tits up.
For whatever it’s worth, I really don’t endorse the use of that term. It’s really quite sexist.
BUT ANYHOW …
Think about the above financial ailments, though …
Lehman Brothers went under in September of 2008. Obama wasn’t even in office.
Well, tell me … what is one to think?
To dove-tail off a popular religious trend of recent years: W.W.O.S.
What Would Obama Say?
“We inherited this economy from the previous administration.”
Ahhhhhh … I see!
It’s G-Dub’s fault!
Yeahhhhh … come on, admit it … when you really look back at those 8 years, is it really all that hard to believe that The Dub didn’t have his moments of being Commander in Spleef?
That sure would explain a lot of things!
I mean, not that I’m making a big stink out of smoking the ol’ stink weed. I mean, the Chinese have been smoking weed for almost 5,000 years.
Of course, outside of fireworks, they’ve not really done a lot as a society …
Well, the O.C.D. thing definitely kicked into high gear … thus the Great Wall.
Or was that just paranoia?
Let’s try that again …
Hey, the Declaration of Independence was written on hemp paper!
Party on, James Madison!
But anyhow …
Since we’re on the subject of blame, and since marijuana is blamed for things such as lack of motivation, forgetfulness, etc. Let’s see IF there’s a chance that a stoned POTUS could possibly be caught “asleep behind the wheel.”
. . .
(ps: all the pics from here on out can be clicked on to view a larger version of the same image … for you “inquiring minds that want to know” …)
Barney Frank and his merry band of turd burglers engineered the whole sub-prime mortgage thing.
But under whose watchful eyes did they pull that off?
What about …
Wall Street ?
The collapse of Lehman Bro’s …
which, thusly, pushed AIG to the very ledge of failure …
Banks closing everywhere …
All of that happened under WHOSE WATCH?
Are you trackin’ with me here yet?
. . .
What about …
The price of crude oil sky-rocketed to an unprecedented high of $147 per barrel in July of 2008.
In less than 8 short years, crude oil prices went from a steady average of LESS THAN $20 per barrel …
To an eye-watering, SEVENTY FOLD increase in price that absolutely crippled the average American with unbearably high gasoline prices.
Who stood to benefit from all of this?
Arabs, of course … but they’re just filthy, camel loving, Jihad happy, goat bumpers. We have goat bumpers here at home that SOME people would be happy to help see they got taken care of?
Who might I be referring to?
Where does American oil wealth reside?
And who came from Texas?
(apart from Dick Cheney, the man obviously pulling the puppet’s strings)
Could it have been …
making sense, isn’t it?
How about … oh, I dunno …
Walk with me, talk with me … let’s give this one a little thought.
Prior to the Clinton administration, the proliferation of malicious Trojan horse software and Worms was, for all intents and purpose, unheard of.
Parents pretty much only had nothing much to worry about back in those older days of lore. Most predators were busy using the internet to find newly opened schools to stalk because kids weren’t on the computer.
SRSLY … there was actually a day when computers were VERY un-cool and were only used by insecure little geeks who had no life.
Look at the world today. In just the past decade, internet porn has become a mainstay industry, internet child predation has reached epidemic proportions …
This all happened WHEN?
The past decade!
Under whose watchful eye?
Since we’re focusing on some of Al Gore’s more infamous inventions, let’s talk about …
To be really blunt about it, the weather was actually somewhat predictable and normal while under Clinton’s watch.
Look back at just the past decade and tell me what’s been the REAL case?
Glacial melting …
* * *
Unprecedented numbers of …
Not to speak of the unprecented outbreaks of …
as let us not forget …
and the intense seismic activity associated with these ever-increasing number if earthquakes and volcanic eruptions continues right up to today, January 2010. Go do a little news search on the number of volcanos that have sparked up in just the past month.
but anyhow …
In the past decade we’ve also witnessed …
Insane Wind Storms Sweeping Europe …
and, as all of us also know, the true toll to the weather in the fight with Global Warming has been the ubiquitous …
All this in the past decade, and under whose watchful eye?
President’s Bush & Bush in New Orleans immediately after Katrina
Yeah, another stoner moment.
It all makes sense to me now.
(told ya I’d get back to global warming!)
. . .
Lend me your ear …
* * *
Some of you expressed a certain amount of shock — for some downright disgust — at the “soo’prize butseks” elephant photo I’d posted when last we met.
Some were brazen enough to ask, “Why?”
Such a silly question when it comes to a blog by Buck … if you’ve not learned that yet, you’re obviously new to this thing I do.
And lemme tell ya, I’ve been doing this nonsense a lonnnnnnnnnnnnnng time!
But anyhow …
Man, I am having a REALLY hard time finding “teh LULZ” today. I’m staving off an epic case of the blues, if you don’t mind me putting what might be too fine a point on it. My friends and I here in 3-D land lost a dear and cherished soul yesterday. Those of you who actually know me face-to-face can go over and read the short, albeit sincere, few words that I could muster about her this morning on my Facebook page.
But I promised myself that I would do exactly what Marge would probably expect of me … bring smiles, perchance an opportunity to laugh, to others.
So, let’s get on with it, shall we?
* * *
As it turns out, it looks like animal abuse charges are possibly being filed against me here soon.
No, I didn’t personally do anything that directly resulted in injury – physical, emotional or otherwise – to any animal, be it domesticated or any of the near countless beasts of the field otherwise.
Nossir, I’ve been given a heads up that the less than goodly people at PETA are pursuing charges for inciting unlawful unions of man and beast as a result of the aforementioned, and dare I say disturbingly humorous, pachyderm on pachyderm rectal invasion.
Ah yes, the previously mentioned “soo’prize butseks” image from our last blog.
No sooner did I publish that darned thing than some twisted, demented soul gets some flash of inspiration and dashes out to the local petting zoo …
I know what you’re thinking: Why aren’t charges being filed against THAT freak?!?!?!
Am I wrong?
Well, as it turns out, with all the bizarre twists and turns that have been unfolding in the way of “hate crimes” laws, the man pictured above — who for legal reasons shall remain unnamed — claims that he suffers some bizarre psychological disorder (and trust me, his problem is so twisted and bizarre that the disorder is impossibly hard to pronounce, no less spell) and is attempting to shift blame onto yours truly.
How messed up is THAT?
* * *
Meanwhile, on the other side of this little rock in the cosmos that we call Earth …
Before I continue, have you ever seen any of the viral internet videos from a while back where people recorded their friends reactions to the grotesque “2 girls 1 cup” video that was, quite thankfully, finally removed from internet?
Oh man, some of those were downright precious.
Anyhow, let’s not dwell here too long … that might get me in even more trouble.
However, as many of the long-time readers and lurkers of many of my web incarnations of recent decades already knows, my mantra is, “The point is to have a point!”
And my point here being: yesterday it was reported that an animal researcher (whose name and location shall also be withheld for legal reasons) showed my last blog to one of his subjects and recorded his reaction:
Oh, the things I would do were I blessed with such a tongue!
But anyhow …
I know this is short, but I am stranded without a car have a bit of a walk ahead of me. Oh … joy!
Until next time …
Needless to say, it’s still REALLY COLD outside … well, in most places anyhow.
How cold is it?
Ask this dude:
That’s mighty cold!
Now … you know how snow cow would deal with that problem, right?
But anyhow …
Actually, before we get back to talking about the weather, and since that image is just a slam dunk segue into the whole subject of “slim pickins” … allow me to share with you an image I came across this morning that seared my eyeballs …
* * *
Now maybe you won’t be so hard on Snow Cow!
But we should really get back to this whole climate change thing …
Seems it’s too late for us to appease Snow Cow … the northern hemisphere is already buried in ice and the other side of the planet, especially for our lovely brothers and sisters in Australia, are being seared by record high temperatures. I mean, seriously, check this out: this is a satellite image of the U.K. taken a few days ago. The entire freaking place is covered in snow!
It’s not just snot that’s freezing these days, sports fans. Hell, some parts of the northern hemisphere have seen entire waterfalls freeze for the first time …
* * *
Hell, you think THAT’S bad?
Check out this group of seals that were almost frozen in place when they woke up on morning this week!
I’m tellin’ ya, dude … it is COLD this winter!!!
And as a little side-note of a PSA:
Don’t let your children run on the ice with chopsticks in their hands or mouth!
Oh … SNAP!
You know that had to hurt!!!!!!
> > >
By and by … up to this point, these are ALL real pics from real shit that’s happening the world the past week or so.
… come on kiddies, say it out loud with me …
I’M CRAPPIN’ YOU NEGATIVE!
So, how are some people dealing with these record low temperatures?
In one town in Russia, the locals put together a portable hot tub …
That actually looks like a bit of a fun!
A hell of a lot more fun that what these freaks of nature find entertaining …
What’s with all the blood on the ice block???
* * *
So, where were we?
Oh, that’s right … taking a look around the globe and taking a look at what others are doing to make the best of this whole cold weather thang …
A couple of drunk fellas in Scotland decided to have some fun on a canal that had frozen over. Granted, the U.K. is getting a lot of snow, but I dare say it’s not quite been cold enough to freeze to the point of being drive worthy.
They, as you can see, learned that the hard way …
Meanwhile, on the other side of the planet, the Japanese snow monkeys are (as they are famous for doing every winter) chilling in the one of the local hot springs …
Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong came to Washington D.C. this week to continue their efforts at legalizing marijuana ..
Now that I see those two pics in sequence, it makes me wonder if Cheech and Chong didn’t make a stop in Japan first to hook up the local snow monkey population.
Hey … stranger things HAVE happened!
Speaking of Scotland, the good people of Lake Menith held their FIRST curling competition in something like THIRTY years!
Sadly, like so many of the other obviously scotch drinking people of that fine country, they learned the hard way that it takes more than just a few days of cold temperatures to make a body of water travel worthy …
Sadly, the town quickly canceled the tournament citing safety reasons.
And others …
Well, seems that some just jumped outside and just had plenty of fun with no specific goal in mind …
Yeah … that’s niiiiiiiiiice!
Apart from the previous image, I’m otherwise with the anonymous dog on this whole cold and ice and snow thing …
There’s a reason the entire northern hemisphere or our planet is experiencing record low temperatures and I can promise you that the salad tossing liberal extremists that are our modern media aren’t going to let us in on the truth.
That’s a thermal image (via satellite, d’uh) taken in just the past few days. The artificial color coding shows the current ground temperatures compared to historic norms.
As you can plainly see, the Arctic circle is WELL above average … and I guess all that hot air is pushing what would otherwise be REALLY cold, arctic air (which is normally supposed to STAY inside of said circle — I mean, that’s why we put it there in the first place, dontcha know) and pushing it outwards and downwards onto us inhabitants of the northern hemisphere.
And we all know where all that hot air is coming from …
I mean, apart from Al Gore …
See what happens when you piss off Snow Cow?
Sadly, though, what is in place is in place … and now we must let nature run her course.
Believe it or not … that’s actually a good thing. It allows Snow Cow to take a break from his Reaper-like duties and it affords him the opportunity to secretly watch over our troops overseas …
Now that I have so many friends named Frank it just doesn’t seem right to say things like, “let me be frank with you” …
As you can tell, I’ve been giving this some thought and I’ve finally settled on an alternative.
Allow me to be a seductive albino gorilla and talk plainly to you about something …
Yes, I have another secret to share with you goodly people of Buck’s World!
As some of you know, I’ve been a rather industrious soul, even from my earliest years …
and as the years have moved along there has been numerous opportunities whereupon I would have a chance encounter that would, as they say, get the proverbial wheels turning …
It was (as you can tell by the hidden writing on the right side of the image above) just a couple of years ago when I happened upon yet another tawdry PETA protest.
And I gotta tell ya, as a guy, it’s hard to not stop and think for a moment when we stumble across any of these overtly sexual, semi-to-almost-full nude protests of theirs.
Of course, us heterosexual guys aren’t thinking about whatever retarded message it is that they’re trying to convey …
But anyhow …
That particular encounter was the closed-eye fodder for more than one wasted seed when, some time later, I had one of those exceptionally rare post release epiphanies!
If vegetarians are, in fact, tastier, why not open a restaurant?!?!?!
* * *
* * *
Actually, I AM crappin’ ya this time around … I don’t own a restaurant.
When last we met, we ended our quality time together reflecting on that which is Ninja.
It only seems fitting that today we end on a related note, since these last two blog posts are actually supposed to be interconnected.
Ninjas are not to be messed with.
Because they will kill you … and you won’t even see them coming.
Who’s the last person to pull this stunt off since the son of God walked the Earth (and water)?
Yeah, SRSLY … the dude is literally running on water.
* * *
Ninja’s even teach their monkeys how to fight!
* * *
and Ninjas are thoughtful enough to teach their monkeys to enjoy a cold, frosty beer after vanquishing their enemies!
Ninjas, simply put, are not to be messed with!
* * *
Here, take a brief moment to watch this video …
(thanks to MFree for the link!)
Well, sports fans … I guess it’s about time I grab my things and head on back to the domicile to face another joyful evening of packing boxes.
I hope to have another roasty, toasty, succulent vowel movement for you again some time soon.
But in the meantime, always remember …
Never forget …
Don’t run with boys that do …
Love those that hate you
Bless those that persecute you
and most importantly, ladies and gentlemen …
have a good day!
* * *
Until next our paths cross …
* * *
I mean , holy hell, I awoke this morning to a local news channel on the television and they were talking about freezing temperatures yet again in central and southern Florida.
Seriously, freezing there is pretty much one step from the proverbial snowflake’s chances of landing in hell.
Now … rather than find cause to snicker at Al Gore because his global warming invention is clearly having a bout of pubescent rebellion, let’s sit down, pour ourselves a pint, take a deep breath and then take a big ol’ bite of a reality sandwich, shall we?
Yeah, I went there … a reality sandwich.
Ever had to take a bite of one of those?
Do you even know what the main ingredient is in a reality sandwich?
Apart from the bread, of course. I mean, you are aware that bread is actually NOT a food group? Yeah, it’s a condiment. In fact, to many it is seen as nothing more than a decoration, but we’ll save the culinary poop slinging for another time.
I’m here to talk about WHY the weather is so particularly brutal of late.
Surely you’ve had to have noticed that this is, already, one of the coldest winters in recent memory. Just here in sulky northern Virginia we’ve had sub-freezing daytime highs and HOWLING winds for over a week now.
Overnight temperatures in Florida are dropping so low that the local iguana population are literally falling out of the trees!
Imagine a group of little girls walking to school and having THAT fall on one of their heads!
Hahahahahaha … oh my, that’d be a hoot.
But anyhow … yeah, with Igunadids being cold blooded animals, the extreme low temperatures slow their metabolism so much that they lose all coordination and simply drop out of the trees like over-ripened coconuts!
And it’s not just the U.S. that is experiencing this extreme weather. Oh no, it’s a planetary phenomenon!
Floods in Brazil …
* * *
Freakish storm clouds in Uraguay!
* * *
Quasi-apocolyptic droughts in China …
Seriously … WHAT THE DEUCE?!?!?!
* * *
So, what IS at the root of this insanely unexpected twist in atmospheric realities?
Well, I can tell ya what’s up …
Snow Cow is PISSED!
Yes, we gone and done it now, folks!
His ineffable name and his sacred image have been cast into a marketing ploy for a bunch of … [ugh], I’m not even gonna say it!!!!
Yeah, “ineffable” … his name’s really not snow cow … you know this, right? I mean, god is not God’s name either. It’s a euphemism … I have a problem with being reprimanded for “taking the lord’s name in vain” when I’ve said “god dammit!”
Go ahead, go look it up. Quite frankly, knowing specifically what the word means will help you get the smile you’re intended to get when I use phrases such as, “and let’s see if we cannot eff it after all!”
Ok, good, you’re back …
I’m not even going to give this ungrateful sub-human any recognition. I will simply state that Snow Cow is aware of what has happened and what you and I are witnessing today is the “ah hell” that is breaking loose as a result.
And now, a word from our sponsor …
I stumbled across an article this week that, shockingly, reported that men — on average — think about sex 13 times a day.
Yeah, 13 times a day – for a total of 4,745 times every year. Quite frankly, that seems a bit on the low side to me, but I’ve never really been one to pine on such details.
This particular study also went on to report that the average man actually reports having sex an average of twice a week, or 104 times a year.
Dogs must be able to read minds …
I mean, as soon as I paused to consider this unexpectedly impressive number … my dog, Sparky, shot me this crazy, raised eye-brow, “W T F” look that about made me cry from laughing so hard.
But were they really tears of laughter?
Wow, twice a week!
Sadly, I’ve been married more than once. Life’s strange that way sometimes, but thanks to the advent of relative morality and the wonders of a primarily hedonistic society, I am not alone in in this department and, therefore, feel almost as if I should feel at ease.
But anyhow … my point was that I have been on both sides of the marital divide in my adventures as rogue man-child and career prodigal. I’ve been counted amongst those who took the final step of purchasing the proverbial cow, and returned — a more experienced and jaded soul — back to the murky waters of the shamelessly unattached.
But then it occurred to me, one could take the pragmatic approach and average the number of conjugal encounters … but after enough time, twice a week still seems rather unrealistic. Granted, the Spousal Unit and I actually placed a quarter in a large jar every time we … uh … yeah … and on our first anniversary the quarter count was an impressive number. Very impressive, actually.
All the same, it occurred to me that the demographic might well be skewed towards the generation roughly half my four and one half decades.
Sparky, again reading my mind, cocked her head and shot me another one of those humorously confused looks.
So as to not awake the Spousal Unit, I whispered back, “Yeah, the younger one is, the less likely they are to score very often.”
Something foul was definitely afoot at the Circle K …
Of course, the participants in said survey very well may have been including the semi ineffable subject of the all too well known reality ofttimes referred to as being, “two partners shy of a threesome.”
The news article, towards its close, further went on to say, “Researchers also found one in three guys think a candlelit dinner is the best way of getting a woman in the mood, followed by a relaxing massage.”
Yeah, it was at this point that I knew for certain … that twice a week number was definitely inclusive of handshakes with the little Governor!
* * *
But anyhow … what in the world were we talking about?!?!?!
Oh, yeah … Snow Cow. Sorry about that digression … I sometimes feel that I have this moral imperative from on high, some sense of responsibility to share with those I love the things I learn from the news and/or The Discovery Channel. That’s the reason I stopped to have that little word about the study showing that men think about sex almost 5,000 times a year.
Again, is it just me or does that number seem REALLY LOW???
What prompted that was another article that documented the published the results of a long term (over 16 years) study. The study showed that men who had sex at least twice a week cut their chance of heart disease IN HALF!
Did you catch that? Cut the chances of a heart attack in half!
Sex has long been regarded as good for physical and mental health. Until now there has been little scientific research into what benefits, if any, that frequent intercourse might have on major illnesses such as heart disease. Scientists at the New England Research Institute in Massachusetts, tracked the sexual activity of men aged between 40 and 70 who were taking part in a long-term project which began back in 1987.
So, there you have it. Men who have sex (with a partner, mind you) twice a week or more stand 45% less of a chance of suffering a heart attack than their less fortunate counterparts.
And what is the lesson to be gleaned from all of this?
Women are obviously out to kill us.
But I digress …
Wow, I’ve run out of time once again. Daggonit … I think it’s vital that I reveal the identity of Snow Cow. Our world is at risk and anarchy is right around the corner!
Those of you that have been around my blogs for almost any length of time surely have picked up on my loathing of Green Peace. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE our planet, and I am a big believer that we have a morally bound duty to be good stewards of this beautiful home we’ve been given.
But anyhow …
Green Peace … nothing but a bunch of idiots and hippies (both of the aged and neo-wanna-be types) who are being led and funded by a bunch of communist subvertists …
Stay on point, Buck … stay on point!
Those minions of satan were recently donated a near priceless tri-maran to help them hunt down Japanese “research vessels” …
Seriously, that is just nuts, is it not???
That donation was in late 2009 … mere weeks ago, actually.
So, the folks at Green Peace, now feeling invincible with their aquatic Batmobile, storm off onto the high seas in search of … dun,dun,DUUNNNNNN … fishing vessels.
Of course, leave it to a Green Peacer to not even stop to consider the fact that when you try to intimidate a Japanese fishing vessel, it’s probably a pretty safe bet that the captain of said vessel is gonna be … wait for it … Japanese!
And you know where Japanese men come from, right?
Yeah, Japan … and what is Japan famous for?
Yeah … Ninjas.
Dude, if it comes from Japan it may as well have a sticker on it that reads:
(you’ll want to imagine the Intel logo for this one)
* * *
So, anyhow, yeah … some mental midget from Green Peace decides he’s going to take on a Japanese fishing vessel (again, obviously manned by a ninja) in a game of high seas chicken.
* * *
Well, hell … now I HAVE run out of time.
Make no doubt about it. Snow Cow is pissed and I dare say he ain’t done with his reign of terror.
I promise to talk more about Snow Cow and what we can do to quiet his angry soul.
He’s actually a rather kind soul, but he’s a jealous snow cow and does not like his likeness being used for something so unthinkable and lowly.
Until then, my dear reader …
Happy 2010 everybody!
As we look back at a year just past, sometimes it helps to occasionally stop and consider what we’d like to change during the coming year.
Not in the sense of resolutions … we discussed that in my last post.
It’s an occasion to offer ourselves the opportunity to learn. When we look back at outcomes and especially patterns, it’s vital to note the outcome and then decide if that is something we want to repeat … is that a path we want to continue to follow?
Insanity, they say, can be defined as attempting to solve a problem by repeating the same behavior/choices that created it.
What can I — your fearless leader and benevolent king of the land of Faux — learn from looking back at the past year?
For starters, make sure to make time for play. Burning the candle at both ends simply cannot end well.
Beyond that, it looks really retarded.
Let’s see, what else is there?
OH, I’VE GOT ONE!
Pay closer attention to what I buy for my nieces and nephews!
In fact, to be a bit more to the point …
No more Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve … after spending the morning and early afternoon enjoying “breakfast” with our friends at the pub …
The whole butt-plug part of it never occurred to me.
THINK, DUDE … THINK!
* * *
Speaking of being more thoughtful …
This year I’d like to spend a bit more attention to which vehicle I’m driving.
* * *
So, anyhow … since I’ve already let the cat proverbial out of the bag about my holiday shopping fail.
I never read the box … all I saw was a doll and … like ANY guy … I was in a rush. Seriously, Christmas shopping can really be quite the inconvenience when it conflicts with one’s drinking schedule.
* * *
I have one nephew who is totally into Superman. A pillow that doubles as a pillow. How cool is THAT?
I was, unfortunately, perfectly sober when it came time for the opening of the presents that morning.
It took me a while to understand why I was getting so many confused looks from the kids and, even more so, the awkward looks from the rest of the family.
* * *
There’s my one niece who, of all things, is a HUGE fan of the Incredible Hulk . . .
HEY … his pants were NOT rolled up like that when I bought it!!!
* * *
Fortunately for me, the bath house across town is open on Christmas day … and only on that day each year … the hot tubs are filled with beer.
. . .
. . . . .
. . .
MOVING ALONG …
Did you hear about the body that was recovered from Sydney harbor in Australia earlier in 2009?
According to the article that I read, investigators did initially rule out suicide and were considering this a possible homicide case.
Thank you, Cap’n Obvious!
* * *
Were you out and about amongst mixed company yesterday, you too may have come across numerous conversations involving various “good luck foods” to usher in the new year.
In many Asian cultures, noodles are eaten on new years day in order to bring long life. There’s a catch, tho … each noodle must remain unbroken until the entire noodle is in one’s mouth.
Austria has its pork dishes … the Italians have their lentils … the folks in the deep south of the U.S. have their black-eyed peas and greens.
Stranger still is the traditional ox penis salad enjoyed in certain remote regions throughout China …
Yeah … ox penis …
* * *
Then there’s my favorite dish …
BUT BEFORE I GO THERE …
Has someone in your family jumped on the latest craze of soaking turkey in brine?
Man, does it make the meat OH SO MUCH more tender and succulent!
A few friends of mine and I decided to get together and try this whole brine soaking thing a try …
All I can say is, “Mmm, mmm, good!”
* * *
(Saint Feces? that’s a new one to me too)
I just noticed how much the time got away from me this morning. I’ve got stuff to do, places to go and …
Who am I kidding? This is my last weekend to … uh … after realizing what the “Fun Shapes” toy that I’d bought for my youngest niece was really all about, I almost feeling awkward using this phrase, but here it goes anyways … blow it out of my ass. Starting Monday, the world as I know it taking some drastic changes for the busier, to say the very least.
All that to say, I gotta go!
How’s THAT for Hoping For A Cure?
Well, here we are on the cusp of another one of those, “Out with the old, in with the new” end of the year moments. Like many other people, I’m looking forward to having a new set of digits slapped up on the calendar.
Seriously! I started this year (2009) all charged up and ready for the wonders that it may bring, and then …
Although … just amongst my own circle of friends there are those who have lost a LOT more than I did this year …
Sure, in the midst of the great memories I made with my sons and certain others of my friends and family members, there’s a lot about 2009 that I shan’t fondly look back upon. Losing my entire Koi population and the meltdown of the waterfall, as two examples, were only the beginning of my sorrows. And sure, there were bigger losses that really chap my ass for reasons that would do none of us any good for me to elaborate upon.
So … we should probably just be moving along then, shouldn’t we?
In the grand scheme of things, there are VERY few of us that cannot echo the sentiment, “Worse things have happened to better people.”
Feel free to tuck that one away in your heart; it may come in quite handy some day.
* * *
Made your new year resolutions yet?
Want my opinion on the matter?
Of course you do … that’s why you’re here!
My opinion would be to NOT make any New Years resolutions.
Face it, it’s a stupid tradition developed to help stupid people cope with their innate disinclination to change.
Those that can’t merely wish … the rest of us simply DO. Sure, plans are good … VERY good, in fact. But arbitrary “resolutions” made because it’s expected of one to do so? Might as well stand in the middle of a busy mall scratching your crotch with one hand while trying to lick the elbow of your other arm … all while humming the theme music from Patton as loudly as possible.
Hold on … that’d actually be pretty damned funny!
Buuuuut … if you’re so inclined to be weak-minded and feel obligated to make your resolution(s), just know that others WILL laugh at your failure. Sorry, but that’s part of life. Live with it and move on already.
* * *
So, what can be said about 2009 that you’re not going to be otherwise inundated with by other sources? I mean, EVERYBODY in the media is going to surely have their wagging tongue moments where they blather on about the monumentally historic nature of America electing her first partially non-Caucasian president.
Of course, these same charmed, deluded news anchors will never look back later in life and realize that Obama was pretty much the equivalent of having ordered an expensive new blow-up “bride.”
It might be a little exciting at first, but when all is said and done, it’s nothing more than an empty shell that’s going to leave one severely chaffed.
Did I say CHAFFED?!?!?!?!
That’s way too soft a word … nossir, what this administration is going to leave us with is going to be a bit more intense than a mere burning sensation …
Speaking of which (the blow-up doll part, that is), did any of you ever catch any episodes of HBO’s WAY-TOO-SHORT-LIVED show, “Hard Core TV” (HCTV) ???
In a tip of the hat to Saturday Night Live, HBO put together a group of writers who, in my estimation, knocked the proverbial ball right out of the park.
There is, of course, a reason I mention this …
One particular skit was a parody of a Biography Channel style interview which featured a man who had forsaken women in lieu of blow up dolls. During the course of the interview, the man spent considerable time fawning over his one favorite blow up doll, whose name I cannot remember.
All the same, the interviewer wrapped up the segment by posing the following question, “It’s clear that this doll truly your favorite. Tell me, where do you see yourself with this relationship in … say … 10 years?”
The man pondered the matter a few moments and after a dramatic pause he finally offered his straight-faced answer of, “Well … happy … but chaffed.”
* * *
Never let it be said that 2009 was not an interesting year. Oh no, not by any stretch!
Soros and Rockefeller are probably a little pissed. Heck, the near-collapse of the financial markets that they engineered almost delivered the U.S. into their grubby, Marxist hands.
But I promised I’d avoid politics, dammit … sorry.
* * *
Let’s see, what is there to look back upon … IN A POSITIVE LIGHT … ???
Well, let’s just jump upon our trusted steed and travel back in time … (just one year, nothing big) …
* * *
Let’s see … we had at least a few new species of animals discovered this year. Amongst my favorite was this little gem …
* * *
While on the subject of fish, scientists in Asia have discovered what is being called a “human-faced” carp …
More of a dog’s face than a human’s face, but hey … it’s different!
* * *
Speaking of carp/koi … there were reports of an aquatic toad that was in heat and got a little confused about which species he was supposed to mate with …
According to reports, the toad literally screwed the fish to DEATH!
* * *
Speaking of sexually super-charged animals, I’d like you to meet Elvis, the insanely randy cock!
As it turns out, Elvis there had such an out of control libido that he finally had to be exiled from the hen-house. He LITERALLY screwed the hens to DEATH.
I have 2 questions …
1) Who snagged a sample of my DNA?
2) Was a rooster the most creative thing they could do with it?
(on a side note, does that woman’s grin strike you as at all … strange?)
Yeah, it sort of troubled me too … … …
And the rooster? Look at him! “I am the Sperminator … I’ll be back!”
* * *
Let’s see … we also saw a six legged cow …
BUUUUUUT … not as freaky as Two-Face the calf!
Makes me wonder if the same cretins who warped my DNA into a rooster have been having fun with Snow Cow’s DNA as well …
Even so, it would appear nothing of the sort is going to thwart the amazingly Mother Teresa-esque qualities of our mysterious friend who has been widely known to have a passion for feeding the poor …
* * *
But we’ll have to save talk of Snow Cow for another time … (not to mention the fact that Snow Cow is actually a bull, but things just get way too confusing way too quickly, so let’s just keep moving along, shall we?)
* * *
What else is there to look back and smile upon when we look at 2009?
* * *
The year of our Lord, 2009 — for all of its pomp and circumstance — was not a boring one for the inventors of the world either!
In Japan, we saw all manner of robots appearing at trade shows everywhere … to include the adult entertainment industry. Seeings how my younger two sons are like to swing by this blog, I have chosen to not publish pictures of such. Sadly, you’re just gonna have to take my word for it.
We DID see the introduction of gems such as …
Yeah, see-thru cement.
Now, why anybody ever conceived of a need for translucent concrete is absolutely beyond me, but in flash of true Hungarian ingenuity, some wild-eyed Magyar kinsman of mine decided the world needed such a thing.
I dunno, maybe it was simply a matter of an inventor who wound up with one of those “Butter Face” girlfriends.
* * *
Let’s see, what else did 2009 bring us in the way of inventions?
AH HA! I have one …
Ever heard of Kenji Kawakami, the founder and director of the International Chindogu Society?
In fact, I hadn’t heard of him either until a couple of years ago. Back then my blogs (and other assorted brain droppings) were being served up (spicy hot, of course) at MySpace.com, and in the midst of doing some research for a year-end blog I was lucky enough to have stumbled across this man and his “society.”
Of course, if you’re at all like me, you may be sitting there thinking, “Chindogu … what the ____ is that???”
Since you’re probably on the verge of opening another browser window and heading over to Wikipedia yourself, let’s just see what the wiki has to say about Chindogu
Chindōgu … is the Japanese art of inventing ingenious everyday gadgets that, on the face of it, seem like an ideal solution to a particular problem. However, chindōgu has a distinctive feature: anyone actually attempting to use one of these inventions would find that it causes so many new problems, or such significant social embarrassment, that effectively it has no utility whatsoever.
Let’s take a look at some of Mr. Kawakami’s latest masterpieces!
Are you as big of a wuss as I am when it comes to eye drops?
Imagine the lust that will consume your friends when they see THAT device!!!
. . . remember: a vital aspect of this fine Japanese “art” involves significant “social embarrassment” . . .
I will say, for all his strangeness, it seems that Mr. Kawakami and I have some similar problems in life. Not only do we both share an aversion to eye drops, it seems that both of us suffer from hayfever AND a compulsion to constantly hit the snooze button in the mornings …
The snooze button on the alarm clock? …
Altho … it does sort o make you wonder if that guy’s been spending a little too much time with Jenji Kohan, huh?
* * *
Now, while the inventor of the following piece is NOT a member of Mr. Kawakami’s illustrious society, he probably SHOULD be …
I forget the guy’s name, but here’s the skinny: he’s a full out geek computer programmer who lost his finger in a motorcycle accident last year. He has since designed (and actually wears) a prosthetic finger which is equipped with a — you probably guessed already — a fully functioning flash drive.
Not quite a “thumb” drive, but …
(sorry, that was really corny)
* * *
Again, not from the slippery mind of a practitioner of Chindogu, but from the mind of a Japanese inventor all the same, allow me to present to you the Bow’lingual Translator …
Yeah … it (allegedly) translates Fido’s barks, growls and other vocalizations. Those folks need to hook up with that whole Chindogu thing.
Ya know … if you play around with it a little bit, you could probably modify that thing to into a device that will translate the latest bullshit from the White House. We could call it the Bowel’ingual Translator!
* * *
Moving along …
One final invention of 2009 that TOTALLY grabbed my attention was the PediSedate!
Look at those eyes, will ya?!?!?!? LOOK AT ‘EM!
LOOOOOK AT ‘EM!
To say that this little girl is happy is an understatement of monumental proportions! Hell, “stoned” would be an understatement …
You see, the goofy, purple device upon her head is the coveted PediSedate.
And what, you may ask, is a “PediSedate”?
Well, it is the most brilliant brainchild of an AMERICAN inventor! Allow me to allow his P.R. people to introduce this … this … MOST ingenious device:
PediSedate is a medical device consisting of a colorful, toy-like headset that connects to a game component such as the Nintendo Game Boy system or a portable CD player. Once the child places it on his or her head and swings the snorkel down from its resting place atop the head, PediSedate transparently monitors respiratory function and distributes nitrous oxide.
Yeah, you read that right … NITROUS OXIDE!
Dudes, come ON … a Whippet delivery system that integrates with your stereo?!?!?!
GET OUTA HERE!!!!!!!!!! That’s …
It’s actually a pediatric device to help get children a little looped up before minor procedures that don’t warrant full anesthesia.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever … you KNOW you want one of those for recreational use too!!!!
* * *
The Fashion Industry!
Yes, it was a BUSY year for the fashion industry too, sports fans.
The wonderful people at Swarovski brought us the Bling-kini …
Not bad, not bad …
The fashion industry also saw the introduction of … I don’t EVEN know what to call this, but it’s (allegedly) the latest fad in jeans …
Uh … yeah … winking jeans. [twitch] …
I don’t know about you, but if I want a butt winking back at me, there’s a lot of other … well … I dunno … I’ll just leave that alone for now.
In an effort to maintain some modicum of continuity, let’s stick with jeans for a moment, shall we?
Now … you know that when a man spies a female body that is to his particular liking, and the object of his eye’s affections happens to be wearing a perfectly fit pair of jeans, a question that often accompanies that brief moment in time is whether she’s the type of girl that wears a thong.
Well, once again, thanks to our friends in Japan, our women-folk no longer have to be overly coy …
Of course, those are really only cool when it’s a gal OTHER than your daughter wearing them.
You really don’t want me to “go there” with that subject. Let’s simply say that when it comes to raising girls, my parenting skills probably makes Ghengis Khan or hardline Islamic men pale in comparison.
Anyhow … since the Spousal Unit HAS been known to occasionally sneak through this place, I should probably refrain from any further discussion on this matter unless I want to risk something like THIS:
All the same, those jeans really are smokin’ hot!
* * *
THE FUTURE! What’s in store for 2010?
Let’s take a few minutes on our magic puppy ride and travel a little into the future, shall we?
The 2010 calendars showing up at the mall and local bookstores everywhere portend to a year of old-fashioned goodness and more!
Really, I meant that “seriously” part … here’s February:
. . .
But, if wholesome Mormon girls aren’t really your thing, 2010 is also ushering in an era of other interesting calendars …
J’yup, that’s a real image taken from a real calendar!
. . .
If zombies are a little too messy, how about coffins?
W … T … F … ????
* * *
Now THERE’s an “undertaker” for ya!!!!
* * *
BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!
How ’bout the Swiss Miss 2010 calendar!
There’s also the “Foxy Hunters 2010″ calendar!
* * *
* * *
Wow, looks like I’m running out of time …
Since Chumly is not likely to take time out of his busy schedule to blog here any time soon, allow me to pass along to you a joke that he passed along to me today …
OK, so you’re out hunting . . .
it’s the beginning of the rut, bucks and does are running around like they have no brain whatsoever,
you know your buddy is in the next blind over and you’re both hoping to get a deer on opening weekend,
all of a sudden you look out to your left and see this …
The question is …
under the new Fish, Game and Wildlife statewide regulations what are you supposed to do?
Do you shoot the one with the bigger rack . . . or the gay one?
* * *
* * *
Well, there’s a better than average possibility that this will be my last blog posting for 2009. Turns out that I’ll be turning over a few new leaves this next year … some of them not being entirely my own doing, but anyhow … since this is my final sign off for the year, I guess we can indulge one last moment of selfish indulgence …
Wow, what a weekend. I’d love to say that it was magic-filled and all of that other good, happiness stuff … but it wasn’t.
I shan’t, however, bore you with the occasion visitations of my own little personal hell.
What I WILL do, though … it try and toss a few laughs your way.
There are some new posts over at my Politico blog. If you have any appreciation whatsoever for Australians and/or their humor, head on over!
However, for those of you who refuse to put up with my political/social commentary and the occasional rant, here’s your own little moment of Zen … just so the visit here doesn’t seem like a total waste of time.
I think more than a few of us can relate … (give it a few minutes, you’ll see)
Until next time …
PEACE OFF, FAUX CURSE!
(and beware the snow cow!)