Whenever I hear someone talking about slashing pork out of the federal budget, I nod in wholehearted agreement. This makes them smile and feel happy that I agree with them.
They probably don't realize that "pork" translates in my head to "everything the .gov does that it didn't do before 1929."
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Non sequiturs.
I just love talking on the phone with the parents of toddlers. Where else can you get delicious stuff like the following?
Me: "Where did all your shiny new Trotskyite commenters come from?"
Marko: "I don't know. I must have been linked someplace where... Hey! Get out of the bucket! Lift your leg out of the bucket! No, don't stick your head in the bucket!"
Me: "I'll just leave you to your parenting, then, shall I?"
MMmmm.... Pizza.
Italian sausage, green olives, and jalapeños. A couple of twists from the garlic & crushed red pepper spice weasel.
Yum.
Yum.
Day Off...
Successfully slept in past ten, but awoke to icicles hanging from the ceiling of the bat cave so it took another fifteen minutes to convince myself to come out from under the covers.
I've managed to piss away a good three hours surfing teh intarw3bz, but it's high time I go foraging for food. Also, my paycheck needs to be moved from the building it's in now to the bank across the street. Back in a flashski.
I've managed to piss away a good three hours surfing teh intarw3bz, but it's high time I go foraging for food. Also, my paycheck needs to be moved from the building it's in now to the bank across the street. Back in a flashski.
Breaking News: Billions of foreigners lose access to porn, MySpace.
A cut in an undersea cable has caused billions of terabytes worth of data to gush into the warm waters of the Mediterranean. Seabirds coated in sticky YouTube videos are washing ashore on Egyptian beaches, and environmental scientists say the gooey slick of zeros and ones could spread as far west as Malta.
Meanwhile, downstream of the leak, the vast series of tubes that is the internet has lost pressure. Billions of people who speak strange foreign languages can no longer download porn or find soulmates on Match.com. Sub-Saharan Africa and mainland China have been particularly hard hit, as the 419 Scam and Fake eBay Auction industries were entirely dependent on the internet for their normal function. "We are going to try going to snail mail," said Joseph M'bekebeke, Nigerian minister of commerce, "But we don't know if American senior citizens will be as gullible in regards to badly handwritten letters as they are to badly typed emails."
According to experts interviewed on Thursday afternoon, the data hemorrhage will continue to pollute the pristine waters of the eastern Mediterranean for at least another week. No word yet if Google or Yahoo are expected to help fund the cleanup.
Meanwhile, downstream of the leak, the vast series of tubes that is the internet has lost pressure. Billions of people who speak strange foreign languages can no longer download porn or find soulmates on Match.com. Sub-Saharan Africa and mainland China have been particularly hard hit, as the 419 Scam and Fake eBay Auction industries were entirely dependent on the internet for their normal function. "We are going to try going to snail mail," said Joseph M'bekebeke, Nigerian minister of commerce, "But we don't know if American senior citizens will be as gullible in regards to badly handwritten letters as they are to badly typed emails."
According to experts interviewed on Thursday afternoon, the data hemorrhage will continue to pollute the pristine waters of the eastern Mediterranean for at least another week. No word yet if Google or Yahoo are expected to help fund the cleanup.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Normality question:
Does anyone else religiously separate the pre-'82 pennies from the rest of their change and hoard them? Or am I weird?
This isn't funny.
My birthday was, what? Fifteen minutes ago? And I wake up this morning to discover that I... um... how to put this delicately? I will be shopping for food high in fiber content today, which is something I've never really done before. (Payback, no doubt, for all the times I made fun of bran-muffin-eating codgers and codgerettes.) Also, it's cold in here and the joints in my right elbow and wrist have this weird, kinda stiff, slightly hurtie feeling when I move them suddenly. I expect that from the various extremities held together with baling wire, but none of the breaks to my right wing have involved joints.
I'm not liking this at all.
I'm not liking this at all.
Rights and responsibilities.
That which is rewarded becomes more common. That which is not stopped, goes on and on. Acquiescence is tacit approval.
Say "No" and mean it.
Say "No" and mean it.
Losers.
This is the eighth presidential contest since I've been sentient enough to really understand them, and I have to say that it's official: devolution happens. What else can I call it when I find myself pining for a Dole or a Mondale? Not that I think either of them was such a fantastic candidate, mind you, but I look at the fields both parties are offering this time 'round and I've given up on wanting a statesman; now I'll happily settle for a responsible adult.
On the upside, it looks like Rudy the RINO has taken his ball and gone home. On the downside, the Manchurian Candidate is picking up quite a head of steam. Not only is he an authoritarian jackass with only a passing acquaintance with the Constitution, but he's almost guaranteed a stomping in any head-to-head debate with either of the Democrat front-runners, who'd leave him looking like a doddering, red-faced, frothing loon.
Not that it matters to me, of course, since the only GOP candidates I could have held my nose and pulled the lever for have either already dropped out or are trailing so far back that they can't even see the pack from where they're standing. So it looks like I'll either be going fishing on election day or making a protest vote of some sort.
And before you even think about puffing up and sputtering something about "Are you just going to give Hillary the White House?" just put a sock in it, because it wasn't me, brother. It was all you idiots who put candidates out there that got tied up in pointless jackassery like rearranging the 'gay marriage' and 'flag burning' and 'stem cell' deck chairs after the USS Conservative had already hit the iceberg. Your typical Republican these days is worried more about what's printed on the money than where it comes from or what it gets spent on.
That's it. I'm done. No more "change from within". A pox on you and your Grand Old Party. We've grown so far apart that I'd be as well off lecturing the Democrats on gun rights and laissez faire economics as I would be convincing the GOP to keep its hands to itself.
EDIT: Unc is only slightly less disillusioned than I am. So is J.P. Sartre.
EDIT II: Word of the Day: Electile Dysfunction.
On the upside, it looks like Rudy the RINO has taken his ball and gone home. On the downside, the Manchurian Candidate is picking up quite a head of steam. Not only is he an authoritarian jackass with only a passing acquaintance with the Constitution, but he's almost guaranteed a stomping in any head-to-head debate with either of the Democrat front-runners, who'd leave him looking like a doddering, red-faced, frothing loon.
Not that it matters to me, of course, since the only GOP candidates I could have held my nose and pulled the lever for have either already dropped out or are trailing so far back that they can't even see the pack from where they're standing. So it looks like I'll either be going fishing on election day or making a protest vote of some sort.
And before you even think about puffing up and sputtering something about "Are you just going to give Hillary the White House?" just put a sock in it, because it wasn't me, brother. It was all you idiots who put candidates out there that got tied up in pointless jackassery like rearranging the 'gay marriage' and 'flag burning' and 'stem cell' deck chairs after the USS Conservative had already hit the iceberg. Your typical Republican these days is worried more about what's printed on the money than where it comes from or what it gets spent on.
That's it. I'm done. No more "change from within". A pox on you and your Grand Old Party. We've grown so far apart that I'd be as well off lecturing the Democrats on gun rights and laissez faire economics as I would be convincing the GOP to keep its hands to itself.
EDIT: Unc is only slightly less disillusioned than I am. So is J.P. Sartre.
EDIT II: Word of the Day: Electile Dysfunction.
I feel kinda... invincible.
I tried some of that new Neuro Fuel beverage, and I did seem to feel peppier to the point of tachycardia afterwards. It's hard to say, however, how much of that boundless optimism and concomitant hummingbird heart rate was from the Neuro Fuel and how much was due to the 22 oz. NOS I had slammed about fifteen minutes prior.
I'll have to try and drink the Neuro Fuel in a direct scientific comparison with a nice frosty bottle of Placebo Blast in order to get any conclusive results.
I'll have to try and drink the Neuro Fuel in a direct scientific comparison with a nice frosty bottle of Placebo Blast in order to get any conclusive results.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
You're doing it wrong. Still.
Either he's looking for a picture of a Malibu Canyon veranda in a torrential downpour, or he's our idjit browser of the day. Given his location, though, he may just be an ESL surfer.
And the link at CNN said...
School shooter could go back to prison...and I'm thinking "Wait! 'Back'?!? He was out? What in the hell was he doing out? And what do you mean 'could'?"
I realize that he was "only" thirteen years old when he helped mow down five people in cold blood, but isn't the "mowed down five people in cold blood" part more important than the "he was only 13" part? I mean, there are some things from which you just can't reform.
What does that sound like in a parole hearing? "Hey, yeah, I mean, I know I shot those children and that teacher from ambush, but I was feeling a little kooky that day. I'm all better now and I promise I won't do it again."
And somebody buys that! Instead of saying what they should in response, which is "That's nice kid, shut up and put on the blindfold. And hurry up with that cigarette, these guys got jobs to get to after they're done here."
Monday, January 28, 2008
Time Machine.
Smith & Wesson
Springfield, Mass.
Dear Sirs,
I have just read Mr. Twain's excellent new book, A Tramp Abroad, and it has given me a zest to go traveling. Prudence would dictate procuring a Sidearm for my safety before entrusting myself to the gentle ministrations of Heathens in foreign parts, but I do not wish to encumber myself with a Belt Pistol. And yet I would prefer a revolving pistol of more Substance and Striking Power than the small revolvers of .32 calibres sold for the Gentleman's pocket. Accordingly, would you be able to advize me of the nearest dealer to my abode likely to have one of your .38 calibre central-fire Number Twos in his stock so that I may examine one before I make a Purchasing Decision?
Cordially,
J.Q. Public
Erehwon, Arizona Territory
28 January, 1881
The revolver that Mr. Public, citizen of the soon-to-be-incorporated town of Phoenix AZ, would eventually purchase was completed at the Smith & Wesson factory on April 28th, 1881. On that same day, a young miscreant by the name of William McCarty was shooting his way out of the Lincoln County jail in New Mexico, killing deputies Jim Bell and Bob Ollinger in the process.
While the revolver sat in a box being shipped out west, President Garfield was shot by a lone assassin; the famous Sioux chief, Sitting Bull, surrendered to U.S. government troops; and the first public high schools opened west of the Mississippi. On the day that Mr. Public went to purchase his revolver before setting out on his wanderings, the news in the Arizona papers was of "A Desparate Fight Between Officers of the Law and Cow-Boys" in the vacant lot by the OK Corral in the boomtown of Tombstone.
I know the gun pictured above was made in 1881, but I won't know where it actually shipped or its exact date of birth until my factory letter comes back from Springfield. Until then, I'm free to let my imagination run wild, and 1881 is an exciting year in which to let your imagination off its leash. "Why do you like these old guns, Tam?" Why, indeed.
Sometimes you go to a gun show and come back empty-handed, and sometimes you come back with a handful of history.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
It's all posted and everything...
The Sunday Smith is up at the other place. An unusual stainless J-frame this time.
It's Fun Show time!
There's a Fun Show in K-town today!
Now that I've done my work-type stuff for the day and taken the piccie for the Sunday Smif, I'm off to get eyeball prints all over everything.
Back in a bit...
Now that I've done my work-type stuff for the day and taken the piccie for the Sunday Smif, I'm off to get eyeball prints all over everything.
Back in a bit...
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