bored stiff geeks

Bad Prediction of the day:

2011-10-05T21:22:00.000-07:00

"There is no reason anyone would want a computer in their home."

-- Ken Olson, president, chairman and founder of Digital Equipment Corp., 1977 --

This sentiment was uttered at about the same time that
a guy named Steve Jobs was starting a little company called Apple

he aint heavy. . .he's my brother

2011-05-18T08:16:00.001-07:00

gene and me, 26 may 1990

-------------------------------

The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows where
But I'm strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

So on we go
His welfare is of my concern

No burden is he to bear
We'll get there

For I know
He would not encumber me
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

If I'm laden at all
I'm laden with sadness
That everyone's heart
Isn't filled with the gladness
Of love for one another

It's a long, long road
From which there is no return
While we're on the way to there
Why not share

And the load
Doesn't weigh me down at all
He ain't heavy he's my brother

He's my brother
He ain't heavy, he's my brother.

you're fired!

2011-05-02T13:47:00.001-07:00

"leave my hair out of it!"

a toast to family

2011-04-24T19:25:00.000-07:00

May the best ye've ever seen
Be the worst ye'll ever see
May a mouse ne'er leave yer girnal
Wi' a tear drap in his e'e
May ye aye keep hale an' he'rty
Till ye're auld eneuch tae dee
May ye aye be jist as happy
As we wish ye aye tae be

happy easter egg

2011-04-24T00:01:00.000-07:00

blessed are those

to whom Easter is not a hunt…but a find;

not a greeting…but a proclamation;

not outward fashion…but inward grace;

not a day…but eternity.

--thanks to dave h for this one--

please be on the lookout. . .

2011-04-21T21:08:00.000-07:00

i have some friends who have left their native iraq and are refugees from the current war. they need a place to stay, so i thought i'd mention you. they will be stopping by in the next couple of days. if you have room to keep them, even for a night, they'd be indebted to you for life--they'll do anything for you.

please be on the lookout. . .they'll show up in two cars--a green mercedes and a white mercedes.

they travel light, and won't be too much trouble.

would you mind lending a hand?

thanks.

click here for a picture so you'll know what they look like.

rise of the machines. . .

2011-04-19T20:11:00.000-07:00

today is THE DAY that doomed all of humanity. . .because according to "Terminator 2," April 19, 2011 at 8:11 PM, Skynet became self aware, starting a chain of events that led to a war between man and machine. . .

so everyone, smoke em if you got 'em!!

--thanks to k woodman for this one--

Cemetery Watchman

2011-03-19T21:28:00.000-07:00

My friend Kevin and I are volunteers at a National cemetery in Oklahoma and put in a few days a month in a 'slightly larger' uniform.

Today had been a long, long day and I just wanted to get the day over with and go down to Smokey's and have a cold one. Sneaking a look at my watch, I saw the time, 16:55. Five minutes to go before the cemetery gates are closed for the day. Full dress was hot in the August sun Oklahoma summertime was as bad as ever--the heat and humidity at the same level--both too high.

I saw the car pull into the drive, '69 or '70 model Cadillac Deville, looked factory-new. It pulled into the parking lot at a snail's pace.. An old woman got out so slow I thought she was paralyzed; she had a cane and a sheaf of flowers--about four or five bunches as best I could tell.

I couldn't help myself. The thought came unwanted, and left a slightly bitter taste: 'She's going to spend an hour, and for this old soldier, my hip hurts like hell and I'm ready to get out of here right now!' But for this day, my duty was to assist anyone coming in.

Kevin would lock the 'In' gate and if I could hurry the old biddy along, we might make it to Smokey's in time.

I broke post attention. My hip made gritty noises when I took the first step and the pain went up a notch. I must have made a real military sight: middle-aged man with a small pot gut and half a limp, in marine full-dress uniform, which had lost its razor crease about thirty minutes after I began the watch at the cemetery.

I stopped in front of her, halfway up the walk. She looked up at me with an old woman's squint.

'Ma'am, may I assist you in any way?'

She took long enough to answer.

'Yes, son. Can you carry these flowers? I seem to be moving a tad slow these days.'

'My pleasure, ma'am.' (Well, it wasn't too much of a lie.)

She looked again. 'Marine, where were you stationed?'

' Vietnam, ma'am.. Ground-pounder. '69 to '71.'

She looked at me closer. 'Wounded in action, I see. Well done, Marine. I'll be as quick as I can.'

I lied a little bigger: 'No hurry, ma'am.'

She smiled and winked at me. 'Son, I'm 85-years-old and I can tell a lie from a long way off.. Let's get this done. Might be the last time I can do this. My name's Joanne Wieserman, and I've a few Marines I'd like to see one more time..'

'Yes, ma 'am. At your service.'

She headed for the World War I section, stopping at a stone. She picked one of the flower bunches out of my arm and laid it on top of the stone. She murmured something I couldn't quite make out. The name on the marble was Donald S. Davidson, USMC: France 1918.

She turned away and made a straight line for the World War II section, stopping at one stone. I saw a tear slowly tracking its way down her cheek. She put a bunch on a stone; the name was Stephen X.Davidson, USMC, 1943.

She went up the row a ways and laid another bunch on a stone, Stanley J. Wieserman, USMC, 1944.

She paused for a second and more tears flowed. 'Two more, son, and we'll be done'

I almost didn't say anything, but, 'Yes, ma'am. Take your time.'

She looked confused.. 'Where's the Vietnam section, son? I seem to have lost my way.'

I pointed with my chin. 'That way, ma'am.'

'Oh!' she chuckled quietly. 'Son, me and old age ain't too friendly.'

She headed down the walk I'd pointed at. She stopped at a couple of stones before she found the ones she wanted. She placed a bunch on Larry Wieserman, USMC, 1968, and the last on Darrel Wieserman, USMC, 1970. She stood there and murmured a few words I still couldn't make out and more tears flowed.

'OK, son, I'm finished. Get me back to my car and you can go home.'

'Yes, ma'am. If I may ask, were those your kinfolk?'

She paused. 'Yes, Donald Davidson was my father, Stephen was my uncle, Stanley was my husband, Larry and Darrel were our sons. All killed in action, all Marines.'

She stopped! Whether she had finished, or couldn't finish, I don't know. She made her way to her car, slowly and painfully.

I waited for a polite distance to come between us and then double-timed it over to Kevin, waiting by the car.

'Get to the 'Out' gate quick.. I have something I've got to do.'

Kevin started to say something, but saw the look I gave him. He broke the rules to get us there down the service road fast. We beat her. She hadn't made it around the rotunda yet.

'Kevin, stand at attention next to the gatepost. Follow my lead.' I humped it across the drive to the other post

When the Cadillac came puttering around from the hedges and began the short straight traverse to the gate, I called in my best gunny's voice: 'TehenHut! Present Haaaarms!'

I have to hand it to Kevin; he never blinked an eye--full dress attention and a salute that would make his DI proud.

She drove through that gate with two old worn-out soldiers giving her a send-off she deserved, for service rendered to her country, and for knowing duty, honor and sacrifice far beyond the realm of most.

I am not sure, but I think I saw a salute returned from that Cadillac.

Instead of 'The End,' just think of 'Taps.'

As a final thought on my part, let me share a favorite prayer:

'Lord, keep our servicemen and women safe, whether they serve at home or overseas. Hold them in your loving hands and protect them as they protect us.'

Let's all keep those currently serving and those who have gone before in our thoughts. They are the reason for the many freedoms we enjoy.

-- author unknown --

british racing green. . .the most IRISH of colors

2011-03-17T00:01:00.000-07:00

Gordon Bennett Motor Race 1903

Leinster Leader, Saturday 11 April 1903- Page 6.

"Each nation will have its own distinguishing colours. English cars will be painted green in compliment to

Ireland"

THE GREAT MOTOR RACE.

The great race for the possession of the Gordon-Bennett trophy, which will take place in the first week of July, has an interest for

Ireland

which cannot be exaggerated. For the first time in her history

Ireland

will be the envy of the sporting world. She has been selected as the battle-ground on which to decide the supremacy of the latest inventions to revolutionise locomotion.

France

Germany

England

and

America

will enter the lists to fight out the battle of speed on the morning of the 2nd of July. The contest will not only be a test of speed, but a test of the native workmanship of each of the competing countries as well.

One of the conditions of the race is that the cars must be the absolute production of their respective nationalities. This rule is rigid, and cannot be evaded. The application of it handicapped

England

in the first years of the contest, for the art of manufacturing the electric coil, the most vital part of the machinery, in which the French were adepts[sic], was only acquired by

England

recently. With such tremendous international trade issues depending upon the result, it will be readily understood how keen will be the struggle.

When it was first decided to run the race in Ireland, Naas was spoken of as the likely starting and finishing point, but quite recently the English and French champions decided that the roads from Naas to Kilcullen and Newbridge would be unsuitable for high speeds on account of their numerous turns and twists. After inspecting the district they at last decided that it would be much safer to start the cars a few miles south of Old Kilcullen, at the Ballyshannon cross roads, where the road lies straight for nearly three miles. The fatal accident to Count Zborowski recently at Nice, who was to have been one of the competitors in the race, justifies this alteration. The Count failing to bring his machine completely round a corner a few yards from the starting point, dashed straight onwards into the rocks which border the road, and was killed. This unhappy incident should be a timely warning to all and sundry to avoid corners while watching the race.

Notices printed both in English and Irish will be freely circulated, illustrating the dangers run by crossing or running out on the course after a car has passed.

Each nation will have its own distinguishing colours. English cars will be painted green in compliment to

Ireland

, German white, France blue and

America

red, so that spectators will be easily able to distinguish the car’s nationality, however fast they dash by. Punctually at 7 a.m. on the morning of the 2nd July Mr. Edge driving the first of the English green cars, will be despatched, followed by

France

, then

America

, and lastly

Germany

. One can imagine with what eagerness all will strive to distinguish the colour of the leading car as it returns on its first round. It is expected that the last will not reach the finishing point before 4 p.m.. On the Curragh the finest sport will be seen, for there the racers will take advantage of the flat fields in their endeavour to pass one another, and the sight of two leviathans each travelling at the rate of 70 miles an hour within a few inches of one another will be a sight worth seeing.

It is a difficult matter to predict the ultimate winner, but if speed were the only factor in the race the French cars, which are universally acknowledged to be the fastest, would probably take the prize. The new German cars built especially for the race have come out 28 lbs. over the regulation weight of one ton, so there will ensue a process of “sweating” them down to the proper weight. The English Napiers have been built more for reliability than abnormal speed, and have already been thoroughly tested on the road, but it is yet undecided whether the third place will be filled by another Napier or by a Star racing car. The eliminating test to decide this will probably be run in

Ireland

over a 20 to 30 mile stretch in the course of the next few weeks. This will be a good opportunity to get an idea of the rate of speed at which they can travel. The Americans are still in the experimental stage, and have as yet taken part in no important contest. They are unknown factors in motor racing, and speculation is strong as to their speed and capabilities.

The course will be kept clear by a guard of nearly 1,400 persons, and the whole length of the road will be roped off. The approach of the cars will be announced by buglers stationed at regular intervals, and all dangerous corners and bridges will be marked with flags. A request will probably be made to the farmers in the district which we are sure will be readily granted, to lend them carts and hurdles to block up all side roads and approaches. Intending spectators will do well to remember that on the day of the race the only way to the inside of the course will be through the “controls” at Kildare, Castledemott, Carlow and Athy. Through these towns the cars will be obliged to travel at a slow speed, preceded by a bicycle. The racing cars will be in

Ireland

several weeks before the contest, but will not be allowed to go round the course till the day of the race. Several fields have been purchased near the Ballyshannon cross roads on which large stands and enclosures will be erected for the accommodation of the foreign visitors – Sir C. K.

let's be irrational

2011-03-14T00:01:00.000-07:00

anybody want a twinkie?

2011-02-16T09:25:00.000-08:00

think again.

twinkie ingredients revealed.

happy new year of the rabbit. . .chinese style.

2011-02-03T00:02:00.000-08:00

Xīn Nián Kuài Lè de Tùzǐ

happy new year of the cat. . .vietnamese style

2011-02-03T00:01:00.000-08:00

chúc mừng năm mới của con mèo

seen on the west end of an eastbound landscaping company truck. . .

2011-01-28T17:05:00.000-08:00

no job too small.

i wonder: will they do weekly landscaping around this?

dubious grammar of the day. . .

2011-01-27T09:47:00.000-08:00

Received this in an email today:

"The Last and Final Deadline for submission is this Friday, January 28."

Funny, but I didn't receive notice indicating there was a Second-to-Last and Almost Final Deadline.

Doesn't "Deadline" imply Last Day, making "Last" redundant, and therefore "and Final" doubly-redundant?

Where do these people learn to write?

christmas wishes

2010-12-25T00:01:00.000-08:00

Nollaig Shona agus Athbhliain faoi mhaise daoibh go léir!

Happy Christmas and lovely New Year to all!

merry retro christmas

2010-12-24T00:01:00.000-08:00

goo goo g'joob

2010-11-24T00:01:00.000-08:00

I am 雞蛋的人

I am 的海象

(released this date 1967)

miss you, my brother.

2010-11-01T21:23:00.000-07:00

From: Gene
Sent: Wednesday, December 13, 2006 2:25 PM
Subject: FW: thought

So, there I was, June 5, 2003…staying with my kids while my ex was out of town for the weekend. I was in fairly good shape…matter of fact, I ran twice that day. That evening after dinner, the kidlets and I went to Dairy Queen. I had a medium cone dipped in chocolate. Medium! Heck…their medium is big enough to feed half of Scappoose, fer cryin' out loud!

Anyway, there I was, lying on the couch at around 11:30 PM, the kids were in bed when I started to feel heartburn? It seemed to be a bad case of heartburn, probably from that danged dipped cone that I had at DQ, so I got up, went upstairs and woke my oldest boy (he was 16 at the time) and asked him to get me aspirin. All that was in the house was those kiddie aspirins…you know, " St Joseph 's" aspirin. So, I took 5…I figgrd that should be enough. I went back downstairs…after 30 minutes, the feeling was getting worse and my boy woke up to my groans as I was lying on the couch and said something like, "call the hospital?" So I did and the advice nurse suggested that she send an ambulance. Umm…oookay?

While I'm waiting for the ambulance, all of a sudden, I felp…umm…poopy, if you know what I mean. So, I headed to the can, sat down and…ewww…but you know how you feel so much better when you have an upset tummy and you either have an "ewww" on the toilet or you throw up? Well…I felt much better! So much better that after the paramedics arrived and after they inspected, detected and did all kinds of nasty things to me, I said, "thanks boys but I don't need that ride after all!" So, they had me sign the "I don't want a ride" waiver and off they went!

Ok…now it's 3:30 AM, and the feeling is MUCH worse. I drag my butt off to the toilet again but, try as I might, nothing's coming out. And as I try, with each attempt, I feel weaker and weaker. This ain't workin' so I stumble out to the couch, sit and moan. Yep, I woke my boy up again and he says, "go to the hospital?" Yeah…good idea…but….my thinking was cloudy so, instead of getting wacked with a $1,000 ambulance bill, I said, "I'll drive". Really stupid but here I am writing so it worked out.

We get to the hospital at 4:30 AM, check in and 10 minutes later, I'm being wheeled into the emergency room. They put me on a bed, hook me up with all kinds of wires and take all kinds of tests. One of the male nurses comes up to me, tells me he's going to remove the wires from my body and then simply yanks them off all at once. Ok…I have a hairy chest and well geez louise…get the picture? Not pleasant!

A few minutes later, the doctor in charge of the ER visits me and says, "You're having a heart attack." Mmmhmm…I let that sink in and I ask, "are you sure?" "Yes", he replies to which I reply, "are you really sure?" He says, "let me ask you a few questions. Are you having pains that run from nipple to nipple and straight down?" "Uhh…yeah", I reply. He continues with, "is the back of your neck sore?" "Umm…yes", I quietly reply, feeling hopeless. He then says somewhat sarcastically, "Umm…yeah…we're pretty sure you're having a heart attack."

Half hour later, I'm medicated and being wheeled into the surgery room. It's like a tv show...you know the scene from the patient's perspective…lying on his back, watching the ceiling tiles go by, raising your head a little, seeing the nurses pulling your gurney, looking back, seeing the nurses pushing your gurney and so on. We roll into the operating room and I think to myself, "I know what's going to happen next" and sure enough, the roll me up to the operating table and say (I knew this was coming because I've seen it on tv), "One, two, three" and they hefted me up and off the gurney and slid me on the table..whoosh! Yep…just like on tv!

Surgery went well and before long, I was back in the Intensive Care Unit. About a couple of hours later…I started to feel sick and I knew it was coming, so I grabbed the bucket and threw up. You have to understand how much I hate tossing my cookies because I am a loud, violent thrower-upper…ughh! I usually throw up chunks of kibbles and bits through my nose too! But I got through it and nibbled on the saltines they gave me and sipped on my water bottle. Soon, my doctor showed up to check on me. He gave me a thing to help me with my breathing…kind of an exercise thing. It was a round plastic tube with a plastic straw attached and a it had a flat round thing in the tube that you move up by sucking in air. So I gave it a try and barely moved it! He said that I had water in my lungs because of the amount of liquids I had been given and that, before he released me from the ICU, I had to suck on this thing, once every half hour until I could move the thing in the thing up 6 inches. He left…I thought, I want outta here so I'm gonna suck on it every 15 minutes! Well, by the end of the day, I had that thing in the thing going 12 inches…all the way to the top!

O…bye the way, I threw up two more times that day and the third time, it was all liquid and it was a yucky brown color. The brown…it was blood…some concern was felt by me and others! My mother and brother came to visit me around 5 PM. Mom left around 6:30. At almost 7, I got that "I'm gonna toss cookies again" feeling and, since I didn't want to worry my brother any more than he was worried, I said, "Jimmy…I'm getting tired…I think I'm gonna sleep now". He understood, said "see ya later" and took off. The second he walked out, I grabbed the bucket and…

I wake up…I'm shaking…I'm confused! I look down at my toes and I've covered in brown-throw-up and the bucket is laying on its side. "What the heck!", I'm thinking. I look to my left…my nurse is sitting next to me…she looks concerned…I ask, "what happened?" She says, "you threw up so hard, that you stopped your heart…but…you're okay now." I look back over my right shoulder and notice a guy-nurse standing there, holding those paddles in his hand…you know, the paddles…the things that they use and yell, "CLEAR" and then they shock you with! But he didn't need to use them but I was seconds away from that!

I notice that there are four or five nurses in the room…and they look like they're ready for action. I notice another four or five nurses at the door and they too look like they're ready for action. And then, I can't help myself…I start sobbing uncontrollably…it lasts about a minute. And then in about 3 more minutes, I start sobbing again…I can't help it. And then…in about 3 more minutes, I feel the sobs coming…and I get pissed! I get pissed because I had a heart attack. I get pissed because I'm gonna be bed-ridden for the next 4 or 5 days in the hospital and that's gonna be real boring! I get pissed because I'm covered in my own puke! I get pissed because I'm crying in front of cute nurses! I just get really dang pissed and…I suck it in…gather myself…and I don't sob again. And as I'm "sucking it in" I feel myself returning. You know that scene in Terminator 2, the one in which the liquid nitrogen spills on the bad Terminator and Arnold walks up to the bad guy's frozen self and smashes him into a bazillion pieces with the 2x4? Remember how the fire warmed up the pieces of the bad guy and how they rolled back together and slowly, the bad guy reformed? That's EXACTLY how I felt…I could feel the pieces of me coming back to me…I could feel myself reforming as I was getting pissed and when I got really pissed and stopped the sobs…I had completely returned!

Well…long story short…they rolled me outta the ICU the next afternoon right after I showed the doctor my sucking the thing in the thing ability! And the doctor told me that as soon as I could walk a half a mile, he'd let me go! The hall in the wing I was in was 1/8^th of a mile around. I took a couple of strolls the day they moved me from ICU and then Thursday, the next day, I said to myself, "I am soooo outta here", and so I walked. That afternoon, the doc came up to check on me and eventually asked me how far I walked. I told him "12 laps". I watched him calculate, I saw his eyebrows raise when he figured that I had walked a mile and a half and so he said, "ok fine…you're outta here tomorrow". Before he left, I asked him what happened, what were the signs, what were my vitals?" He said that my cholesterol was 129…that's dang good! My blood pressure was 110/80…I had the blood pressure of a 16 year old (bye the way, I was 47 at the time) and my resting heart rate was 65…and that's good too! "So why did I have a heart attack?", I asked. He's from India and so in his cute Indian accent, he replied, "you inherited some faulty hardware". Hmm…ya never know, do ya!

So, I left the next day.

But this isn't a story about my heart problems but the problems continued.

This is a story about my girlfriend Sabrina and how much I love her…how much she means to me…and how I can not imagine a life without her.

Like I said, the problems continued. March 3, 2006, 11 AM…I go to the bathroom in the office building. I'm sitting on the can and when I'm done, I reach to my left, place my hand on the roll of toilet paper and…I just sit there, not knowing what to do next. So, I pull my hand back and think about it. A minute later, I again reach for the tp and again…I don't know what to do next. Another minute passes and again, same thing. And then I notice that I'm slumping to the right and the more I try to sit up, the more I slump. Now I'm leaning against the stall wall and as I thing to myself, "sit up stupid...what are you doing", I slump and eventually…all of a sudden, I'm lying on the floor in the stall, kind of in a fetal position with my pants around my ankles. I think, "ok...this is dumb…git yer butt off the floor before someone comes in and sees you lying here with your pants around your ankles." But try as I might, I can't move.

I don't know how long I was lying there, 5 minutes or less and then I look up and there is a guy climbing over the stall wall and he looks concerned! "Crap", I think to myself, "there's a guy climbing over the stall wall…and my pants are around my ankles!" I struggle to move and do something…anything, but I can't. A few minutes pass…maybe, I have no track of time…and now I'm being dragged by my shoulders by paramedics. Where did they come from?!?!? They're checking me out…I'm still fussin' with my pants…and then, I surrender…I become the leaf in the stream and I figure I'm gonna end up where I end up and so, like I said I surrender.

I feel no pain. I feel no fear. All I feel is inconvenienced and powerless.

Soon it's 1-2-3…poof, and they lift me into a gurney and roll me into the hall. I see lots of people, a few I recognize. And yes, my final thought when I see people is (can you guess it?), "My damn pants are still around my ankles!" Priorities…gotta have priorities! I learned later that my pants were pulled up before I was lifted into the gurney but what did I know?!

30 minutes later, I'm at OHSU ( Oregon Health Sciences University …one of the local and nationally famous hospitals). There's a lot of people in the room and there seems to be confusion on who can sign for, as I learned later, experimental surgery. They call my brother and my mother, but they're not home. People from work are there, my girlfriend is there but since they aren't family, they can't sign. Somehow, someone notices that I seem somewhat coherent so they suggest I sign. Ok, I figure…gimme the pen. But I can't read, I don't know what I'm signing…I'm nervous but, whatdaheck…I sign! At first, I couldn't write coherently…my whole right side is virtually useless. I'm pissed that I can't read my signature but finally, the effort of being pissed is too much, so I just scribble. I doubt very much that it is readable but…good enough for the docs and whoosh…I'm off to surgery!

I don't remember anything until 7 PM that nite. Apparently the surgery was done by 2 PM and I was moved up to the ICU around 4. 5 PM, I wake up to see this big guy, I think he was black or latino…I don't know…and he's yelling in my face! He's trying to get me out of my drug-induced sleep and wake me the heck up. So I wake up but…I don't remember anything else until 7 PM when I look to my right and see my girlfriend sitting there, watching me and being her beautiful self…and I look to my left and see my brother Jimmy sitting there also watching me.

I try to speak…a word comes out and then…nothing. So, Sabrina and Jimmy play verbal charades and try to guess what I said and what I want. A few long seconds go by and I utter another word…and the charades begin again! A few more seconds go by and I again utter something…charades…and then, the effort of trying to talk is wearing me out and so, with my right hand, I make a waiving-off gesture and I utter the complete sentence of, "O…never mind." We go through this effort concluding with the gesture and the "O..never mind" four or five more times until I give up and just let them talk too me and at me. 9 PM rolls around, Jimmy goes home. 10 rolls around and Sabrina goes, although I could tell that she didn't want to.

Next morning at 9:15, I pick up the phone and call Sabrina. She answers and I say, "Hi baby…how are you?" The words just roll off my tongue! And she goes ballistic…she is beside herself, she can't believe I'm talking! Later, I found out why. You see, I had had a massive stroke. Sabrina and my family were told that it was possible that, worst case, I could be a vegetable! But only time would tell how much, if any I would recover. Matter of fact, had I not been found for another 3 hours, I would've died and the fact that I was operated on within 3 hours is why I recovered. Within 24 hours, I was 95% recovered and I recovered the other 4.99% within a month. I had "expressive aphasia (?) which means I sometimes would get this blank expression on my face in mid-sentence as I tried to find a word to express what I was saying. To some degree, I still, once in awhile, can't find the word. And I still have the residual affect of my handwriting is crummy. I used to have very nice penmanship. Now, I have to make sure I pay attention to what I'm writing, otherwise it comes out barely readable.

Anyway, the next day, Sabrina came to visit me and she filled me in on all the details of what happened, why she freaked when I called her. And then she let it slip…I don't know if she realizes the magnitude of what she said…but she said that, when the docs told her of my potentially bad condition, she told me how she started looking down the road, planning how she would take care of me!

My God! We're not married! And she is planning to take care of me! My God! My God! My God!

You see, I have not been the best of boyfriends to her. I've put us…I've put her through some rocky times. So rocky that anyone else would've ended the relationship a long time ago. Yeah, I could blame and I have blamed a lot of things I've been through before I met her but that is dishonest and cowardly. Bottom line…I loved her the minute I met her…really…I'm not kidding…I knew I loved her and would love her within 5 minutes of being with her…but, my actions did not live up to the standard that love requires.

And now, day by day, I'm focusing on doing the things that love requires. I've never really been "in love" until now so I'm still learning what that means. I pray that her patience lasts a little longer so that I can show her what I've learned as I learn it and so that I can continue to show her, through my actions, for the rest of my life, how much I need her…how much she means to me…how much I love her…and…how much I am in love with her.

---------------------------------------------------------

Gene Callahan McCarthy

Proud Father, Proud Son, Proud Brother

21 August 1955 - 18 May 2010

Too short a time indeed.

We love you. We will miss you.

We weep because you are gone in body,

We rejoice because you are here in our hearts.

Save a seat at God's banquet for us.

Hoist a glass of the Water of Life with Dad,

And save a drop for me for when I join you.

If you think this is ugly, YOU SHOULD SEE THE FRONT END!

2010-10-26T13:37:00.000-07:00

ignorance is. . .umm. . .

2010-10-25T12:31:00.000-07:00

Good for you, Sarah Palin. A lesser human might have wilted under the blaze of her own, blinding hypocrisy.

But not you. You're a regular gal who gets paid $100k for a night of speaking. Only in your world could a Tea Party made of mostly old, rich whites bitching about taxes somehow be called a "revolution."

And you keep on:

Taking shots at the "elite media" while flying through your multi-million-dollar book tour in a Learjet.
Ranting against "socialized healthcare" even though your own family hopped the border to mooch. . .um. . ."socialized healthcare" from Canada.
Calling yourself a feminist despite being the furthest possible thing from it.
Complaining about "gotcha" journalism despite recently having to be told that Africa was not, in fact, a country.
Lecturing people about abstinence-only education when your teenage daughter is already a single mom.

Yes, ignorance must truly be bliss.

Too good not to share.
headlineshirts.net

click here to see the t-shirts

rally to restore sanity. my birthday. coincidence? i think not.

2010-10-25T08:33:00.000-07:00

now this is cool. . er, rather, hot!

2010-10-22T09:25:00.000-07:00

These candy apple red cylinders started out life innocently enough as a couple of fire extinguishers. But after they ran out of foam, they got a second life as a pair of speakers.

http://technabob.com/blog/2008/10/30/fire-extinguisher-speakers-are-hot-hot-hot/

the rent is too damned high

2010-10-21T11:27:00.001-07:00

The most interesting debater in Kentucky this week was Jimmy McMillan of The Rent Is Too Damn High Party.

image: nydailynews.com

McMillan wore black gloves and had a moustache that wound around his head like a ribbon, and a goatee that looked like two little fuzzy gerbils hanging from his chin. He was very, very, very angry. . .particularly about the rents, which he pointed out were too damn high.

After the debate, Sarah Maslin Nir of The New York Times tracked him down in Brooklyn to discover that McMillan’s own personal rent is, according to McMillan. . .zero. His landlords, he said, are “like family. They don’t want me to pay any money at all. I am basically living rent free.”

'Scuse me?

nytimes.com

what's wrong with this picture?

2010-10-14T15:46:00.000-07:00

the weirdest dream i have ever had, or i was so tired i was fried.

2010-10-13T10:26:00.000-07:00

This was my dream. Last night.

• • • • •

I was a Captain in the United States army, stationed as a NATO Liaison Officer/Advisor at a Russian Military Academy outside Moscow.

At one time we had a visiting dignitary—a Colonel from the USA—who was treated to the finest of Russian hospitality.

He and the other Russian Officers had all sat down in the Mess Hall to a lunch of Chicken, Mashed Potatoes, and Corn, much to the Colonel’s delight. He ate at a leisurely pace; his hosts enjoyed the time as he regaled them with stories of life in the Southern United States.

Sharply at noon, the Mess staff hustled all of them away from their table—500 or so cadets were due to flood through the doors in moments for the midday meal. The Colonel hadn’t finished his meal.

It was shortly after this when I came to meet the Colonel in the Commandant’s office for the first time.

He was livid, in a forceful-with-a-Southern-charm kind of way. He was there to complain about his treatment in the Mess Hall, and I had to act quickly.

The Commandant did not know how this Colonel could not possibly understand that feeding 1,500 cadets in shifts required clearing the Mess Hall every half hour starting at noon, hence the abrupt end to their otherwise leisurely midday meal. He was embarrassed, but he certainly did not want to receive a lecture on how to run his school and his Mess hall.

I translated the Commandant’s concerns and apologies in the most diplomatic of terms to the Colonel, and explained that no slight or insult was intended by the Russians when they terminated his lunch, fabulous as it was, with all haste and no warning.

I explained in Russian to the Commandant that the Colonel was an American celebrity of sorts, and he must be treated with the utmost care. I told the Commandant exactly who this visiting American was.

The visitor was Colonel Sanders.

• • • • •

It may not be reproduced in any manner

without the express written consent of the author.

for men. . .share this with the woman you love. . .with a wink and a smile.

2010-10-08T10:59:00.000-07:00

Fall Classes

for Women

THE ADULT LEARNING CENTER

REGISTRATION MUST BE COMPLETED

By Tuesday Nov 30, 2010

NOTE: DUE TO THE COMPLEXITY AND DIFFICULTY LEVEL OF THEIR CONTENTS,

CLASSES WILL BE LIMITED TO 8 PARTICIPANTS .

Class 1

Up in Winter, Down in Summer:

How to Adjust a Thermostat

Step by Step, with Slide Presentation.

Meets 4 weeks, Monday and Wednesday for 2 hrs beginning at 7:00 PM..

Class 2

Which Takes More Energy,

Putting the Toilet Seat Down,

or Bitching About It for 3 Hours?

Roundtable Discussion.

Meets 2 weeks, Saturday 12:00 for 2 hours.

Class 3

Is It Possible To Drive Past a Wal-Mart

Without Stopping?

Group Debate.

Meets 4 weeks, Saturday 10:00 PM for 2 hours.

Class 4

Fundamental Differences Between

a Purse and a Suitcase--

with Pictures and Explanations.

Meets Saturdays at 2:00 PM for 3 weeks.

Class 5

Curling Irons:

Can They Levitate and

Fly Into The Bathroom Cabinet?

Examples on Video.

Meets 4 weeks, Tuesday and Thursday for 2 hours beginning At 7:00 PM

Class 6

Learning to Ask Questions

During Commercials and to

Be Quiet During the Program

Help Line and Support Groups.

Meets 4 Weeks, Friday and Sunday 7:00 PM

Class 7

Is it Possible to Take a Bath

Without 14 Different Kinds

of Soaps and Shampoos?

Open Forum.

Monday at 8:00 PM, 2 hours.

Class 8

Health Watch:

They Make Medicine for PMS.

Learn to USE IT!

Three nights--Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 7:00 PM for 2 hours.

Class 9

I Was Wrong and

He Was Right!

Real-Life Testimonials.

Tuesdays at 6:00 PM Location to be determined.

Class 10

How to Parallel Park

In Less Than 20 Minutes

Without Filing an Insurance Claim.

Hands-On Lab.

4 weeks, Saturdays at noon, 2 hours.

Class 11

Learning to Live:

Apply The Brakes Without

Throwing Passengers

Through the Windshield .

Tuesdays at 7:00 PM, location to be determined

Class 12

How to Shop By Yourself.

Meets 4 weeks, Tuesday and Thursday 7:00 to 9:00 PM.

Upon completion of ANY

of the above courses,

diplomas will be issued

to the survivors.

hyundai to supply gendarmes

2010-09-30T08:38:00.000-07:00

how about a Special Police Combat Edition ix35
replete with a 5.0-litre V8, shotgun holsters
and grille-mounted tazers. . .
but we're not holding our breath. . .

social justice, schmocial jusice

2010-09-26T10:54:00.000-07:00

The Colbert Report

Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

Glenn Beck Attacks Social Justice - James Martin

www.colbertnation.com

Colbert Report Full Episodes

2010 Election

Fox News

i want a tomato picked by an american, sliced by a guatemalan, served by a venezuelan, in a spa where a chilean gives me a brazilian.

2010-09-24T17:05:00.000-07:00

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

republican math 101

2010-09-24T16:53:00.000-07:00

"deficits are a terrible thing.
let's make them much bigger."

paul krugman, opinion, nytimes.com

"On Thursday, House Republicans released their “Pledge to America,”
supposedly outlining their policy agenda. In essence, what they say is, “Deficits are a terrible thing. Let’s make them much bigger.”

The document repeatedly condemns federal debt — 16 times, by my count. But the main substantive policy proposal is to make the
Bush tax cuts permanent, which independent estimates say
would add about $3.7 trillion to the debt over the next decade —
about $700 billion more than the Obama administration’s tax proposals."

a real life eleanor rigby. . .

2010-09-22T12:35:00.000-07:00

nytimes.com

eileen nearne, war heroine

lived and died in obscurity

now the world knows her name

words to live by

2010-09-13T21:04:00.001-07:00

in honor of the fallen

2010-09-11T00:01:00.000-07:00

it's a stirring budweiser 9-11 tribute, and it aired only once.

click the picture to play.

'nuf said.

new holiday anyone?

2010-09-07T00:01:00.000-07:00

Seventh of September--in honor of Seven-of-Nine,
Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix 01.

the chickens have come home to roost, or, your stand on any political issue depends entirely on where you sit.

2010-08-26T19:13:00.000-07:00

"As head of the Republican National Committee, Ken Mehlman advocated the Bush administration’s push for a constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage, which Republicans had hoped would galvanize the party’s conservative base in 2006.

"Now he joins several other members of the Bush inner circle who have publicly stated their support for same-sex marriage. Former Vice President Dick Cheney, who has a daughter who is gay, has said he supports the right of gay people to marry, as has the former first lady Laura Bush."

nytimes.com

coffee coffee coffee. need coffee. =8-|

2010-08-25T08:19:00.000-07:00

lesson learned at the tidepool

2010-08-23T10:34:00.000-07:00

the enemy of my anemone is my friend

happy birthday, brother of mine.

2010-08-21T00:03:00.000-07:00

gene and me, 26 may 1990

happy 55 today. we miss you.

-------------------------------

The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows where
But I'm strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

So on we go
His welfare is of my concern

regret (v.), part deux

2010-08-21T00:02:00.000-07:00

Pain of mind on account of something done or experienced in the past, with a wish that it had been different; a looking back with dissatisfaction or with longing; grief; sorrow; especially, a mourning on account of the loss of some joy, advantage, or satisfaction.*

*merriam-webster online dictionary

once upon a time there was a tavern
where we used to raise a glass or two
remember how we laughed away the hours
and think of all the great things we would do

those were the days, my friend
we thought they'd never end
we'd sing and dance forever and a day
we'd live the life we choose
we'd fight and never lose
for we were young and sure to have our way

la la la la la la, la la la la la la
la la la la, oh yes, those were the days

then the busy years went rushing by us
we lost our starry notions on the way
if by chance i'd see you in the tavern
we'd smile at one another and we'd say

those were the days, my friend
we thought they'd never end
we'd sing and dance forever and a day
we'd live the life we choose
we'd fight and never lose
for we were young and sure to have our way

la la la la la la, la la la la la la
la la la la, oh yes, those were the days

just tonight i stood before the tavern
nothing seemed the way it used to be
in the glass i saw a strange reflection
was that lonely fellow really me?

those were the days, my friend
we thought they'd never end
we'd sing and dance forever and a day
we'd live the life we choose
we'd fight and never lose
for we were young and sure to have our way

la la la la la la, la la la la la la
la la la la, oh yes, those were the days

through the door there came familiar laughter
i saw your face and heard you call my name
oh, my friend, we're older but no wiser
for in our hearts the dreams are still the same...

those were the days, my friend
we thought they'd never end
we'd sing and dance forever and a day
we'd live the life we choose
we'd fight and never lose
for we were young and sure to have our way

la la la la la la, la la la la la la
la la la la, la la la la la la
la la la la la la, la la la la la la
those were the days,
oh yes, those were the days

mary hopkin, those were the days, 1968

i'm feeling a little farklemt. . .

2010-08-12T19:33:00.000-07:00

The Jewish Buddha says:

If there is no self, whose arthritis is this?
Be here now. Be someplace else later. Is that so complicated?
Drink tea and nourish life; with the first sip, joy; with the second sip, satisfaction; with the third sip, peace; with the fourth, a Danish.
Wherever you go, there you are. Your luggage is another story.
Accept misfortune as a blessing. Do not wish for perfect health, or a life without problems. What would you talk about?
The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single Oy.
There is no escaping karma. In a previous life, you never called, you never wrote, you never visited. And whose fault was that?
Zen is not easy. It takes effort to attain nothingness. And then what do you have? Bupkis.
The Tao does not speak. The Tao does not blame. The Tao does not take sides. The Tao has no expectations. The Tao demands nothing of others. The Tao is not Jewish.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Forget this and attaining Enlightenment will be the least of your problems.
Let your mind be as a floating cloud. Let your stillness be as a wooded glen. And sit up straight. You’ll never meet the Buddha with such rounded shoulders.
Deep inside you are ten thousand flowers. Each flower blossoms ten thousand times. Each blossom has ten thousand petals. You might want to see a specialist.
Be aware of your body. Be aware of your perceptions. Keep in mind that not every physical sensation is a symptom of a terminal illness.
The Torah says, Love your neighbor as yourself. The Buddha says, There is no self. So maybe we’re off the hook?

tenafly: a slide show

2010-08-09T11:50:00.000-07:00

http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2009/10/08/realestate/1011-livingin-slideshow_index.html

Digital Soul Experience: Living In Tenafly, NJ: A Slide Show

2010-08-09T11:49:00.000-07:00

Digital Soul Experience: Living In Tenafly, NJ: A Slide Show

put this in the how often does that happen category

2010-08-04T18:16:00.000-07:00

one of the contestants on last night's america's got talent show was a fellow named Rudy Macaggi, an acrobat who became disillusioned with his career and. . .

RAN AWAY FROM THE CIRCUS. . .

to live in New York.

how often does that happen?

war and peace it ain't, or you must be kidding

2010-08-04T14:51:00.000-07:00

justin bieber is writing a memoir. it is coming out in october. according to the new york times, publishers weekly predicted the book sales to be about a million to a billion copies.

can they be more vague in their estimate?

get a haircut, dude

not tonight, i have a headache

2010-07-30T08:53:00.000-07:00

i never quite figured out why the sexual urge of men and women differ so much. and i never have figured out the whole venus and mars thing. i have never figured out why men think with their heads and women with their hearts.

for example: one evening last week, my girlfriend and i were getting into bed.

well, the passion started to heat up, and she eventually said “i don’t feel like it, i just want you to hold me.”

i said “what??!! what was that?!”

so she said the words that every boyfriend on the planet dreads to hear...

“you’re just not in touch with my emotional needs as a woman enough for me to satisfy your physical needs as a man.” she responded to my puzzled look by saying, “can’t you just love me for who i am and not what i do for you in the bedroom?”

realizing that nothing was going to happen that night, i went to sleep.

the very next day i opted to take the day off of work to spend time with her. we went out to a nice lunch and then went shopping at a big, big unnamed department store. i walked around with her while she tried on several different very expensive outfits. she couldn’t decide which one to take so i told her we’d just buy them all. she wanted new shoes to compliment her new clothes, so i told her to get a pair for each outfit. we went onto the jewelry department where she picked out a pair of diamond earrings. let me tell you...she was so excited. she must have thought i was one wave short of a shipwreck. i started to think she was testing me because she asked for a tennis bracelet when she doesn’t even know how to play tennis. i think i threw her for a loop when i said, “that’s fine, honey.” she was almost nearing sexual satisfaction from all of the excitement. smiling with excited anticipation she finally said, “i think this is all dear, let’s go to the cashier.”

i could hardly contain myself when i calmly said, “no honey, i don’t feel like it.”

her face just went completely blank as her jaw dropped with a baffled “what????”

i then said, “honey! i just want you to hold this stuff for a while. you’re just not in touch with my financial needs as a man enough for me to satisfy your shopping needs as a woman.” and just when she had this look like she was going to kill me, i added, “why can’t you just love me for who i am and not for the things i buy you?”

apparently, i’m not getting any tonight either.

the grammar nazis are coming! the grammar nazis are coming!

2010-07-22T10:48:00.000-07:00

peeve of the week: minus is not a verb.

minus is an adjective or adverb, preposition (or noun), meaning diminished by or less (or a negative quantity, in the case of a noun: minus-4 degrees).

if you deduct one number from another, you don't minus it! you subtract it or deduct it.

in a mathematical equation, you diminish the first number by the second: 7 minus 4 is 3 (translation: 7 diminished by 4 is 3, or 4 deducted from 7 is 3).

take me out. . .part deux

2010-07-16T07:21:00.000-07:00

click the pic for the story

“He’s a human being and deserves to be honored.
That doesn’t mean we love him, but we respect him.
There’s competition, but also decency.”

Bud Parrine, a Red Sox fan who saw Ted Williams and Joe DiMaggio
play at Fenway Park in the 1940s, said before the game.
nytimes.com

we propose a new holiday for those who boldly go where no one has gone before

2010-07-16T00:01:00.000-07:00

take the letters NCC
add their corresponding places in the alphabet (14+3+3=20)
add the number 1701 to the tail end of 20
the result is 201701, a star date.
in yyyy.mm.dd format it would be written 2020.17.01

an official holiday commemorating the Starship Enterprise.

any takers?

take me out to the great baseball game in the sky

2010-07-14T13:47:00.000-07:00

love him or hate him, you gotta respect him
and what he did for the game of baseball. . .
and for the Yankees

worth sharing. from nytimes.com

george steinbrenner
1930-2010

jogger's worst nightmare

2010-07-14T11:51:00.000-07:00

sniper's worst nightmare

2010-07-14T11:49:00.000-07:00

it's about time

2010-07-13T16:42:00.000-07:00

a potential cure for the appraisal blues

murphy's laws of gravity

2010-07-13T14:48:00.000-07:00

murphy's first law of gravity:

you can't fall off the floor.

murphy's second law of gravity:

it takes children three years to learn murphy's first law of gravity

click here for the story

if you want to filter out the sound of the vuvuzelas (stadium horns) at the next world cup. . .

2010-07-12T08:39:00.000-07:00

here are the instructions:

http://lifehacker.com/5564085/how-to-silence-vuvuzela-horns-with-an-eq-filter

mine?

2010-06-30T10:14:00.000-07:00

overheard, part quatre

2010-06-29T09:51:00.000-07:00

overheard in a mortgage office:

you mean i have to have money to purchase a home?

split the difference

2010-06-28T12:29:00.000-07:00

overheard at the office:

"bought a new scale this weekend.
took it out of the box, threw it down on the carpet, jumped on.
214.

took it into the kitchen on the linoleum,
weighed myself again,
250.

so i decided to split the difference."

vacation tip: parking on the cheap

2010-06-28T12:25:00.000-07:00

rockport, massachusetts:
look closely: why would anyone pay more than a penny?

nytimes

overheard at a mortgage office, part deux

2010-06-25T15:45:00.000-07:00

"i can't justify watching early world cup football matches. . .there's a certain amount of guilt associated with heavy drinking at 6:30 in the morning."

hey, sports fans. . .part troix

2010-06-25T09:26:00.000-07:00

damn.

i hoped he'd go all the way, after a performance
like his opening round 665-minute marathon.

but, alas, he lost today in straight sets in 75 minutes.

maybe next year. . .

hey, sports fans. . .update

2010-06-24T14:12:00.000-07:00

final score: 6-4, 3-6, 6-7 (9), 7-6 (3), 70-68

click the pic to read the nytimes article

little boxes, part deux

2010-06-23T12:20:00.000-07:00

what's worse than building a manufactured home in hurricane alley?

building a manufactured home in hurricane alley

and making it easier for a hurricane to blow it away!

don't believe me?

see them here!

little boxes on the hillside little boxes made of ticky tacky

2010-06-23T12:15:00.000-07:00

one side of a conversation overheard in a mortgage office

-------------------------------------------------------

why are we going to that lender. . .

your clients are purchasing a manufactured home? . . .

WHO DOES THAT??? . . .

why does he want to buy one?

he really loves that manufactured home? . . .

oh. he offered to buy you a beer if we can
close the loan on this particular home? . . .

oh. he really wants to sit on the porch of his new
manufactured home with you and have a beer. . .

ok. . .whatever he wants. . .

-------------------------------------------------------

redneck mansion

hey, sports fans. . .

2010-06-23T12:00:00.000-07:00

are you kidding me?

isner (usa) vs. mahut (france) in the fifth set. no tiebreaker.

the score. . .wait for it. . .is 59-59. . .after a combined 10 hours of play. wednesday's play in the fifth set was 7 hours 6 minutes, longer than the previous record for an entire match. . .

and play is delayed for a second day because of darkness.

more to come tomorrow.

wish i were there.

poetic. balletic. hypnotic.

2010-06-23T07:26:00.000-07:00

who'd have thought flying a kite could be
so relaxing. . .so inspiring. . .so moving. . .
so. . .

. . .simply beautiful.

sacre bleu!

2010-06-22T17:18:00.000-07:00

"To have the worst soccer team at the World Cup was almost unbearable.

To also have the most stupid is intolerable."

--Le Parisien--

redneck divorce

2010-06-17T17:29:00.000-07:00

dear cooter,

me and sue ellen have divorced, the judge gave her the double wide and the pickup.

so, like the court order said, i delivered the truck before 2 o'clock yesterday afternoon! i took a picture fer proof that i delivered it. i wanted to make sure she found it when she got home!!!

your buddy,

bubba

from othersiderainbow
too funny not to share

witty retort du jour

2010-06-16T19:37:00.000-07:00

a man boarded a plane with six kids. (he's either gutsy or loony!)

after they got settled in their seats, a woman sitting across the aisle from him leaned over to him and asked, "are all of those kids yours?"

he replied, "no. I work for a condom company. these are customer complaints."

oh, my freaking head!

2010-06-15T18:50:00.000-07:00

Nicholas Carr: The Web Shatters Focus, Rewires Brains

i beg your pardon???

2010-06-11T11:25:00.000-07:00

"passage of (a requirement for a 5% downpayment law) in order to qualify for a home loan would restrict home ownership to only those who can afford it."

senator chris dodd

you want people who can't afford to buy houses to buy houses?

what are you thinking, senator??

this ain't no upwardly mobile freeway oh no, this is the road to hell

2010-06-09T13:43:00.001-07:00

story here

murphy was an optimist

2010-06-08T12:37:00.000-07:00

barbecue rules 101

2010-06-08T10:44:00.000-07:00

this is a Barbecue grill guaranteed to get everyone’s attention.

It should be towed with the barrel facing backward.
Then you won’t have to worry about anyone tailgating you.

We are about to enter BBQ season. It is important to refresh your memory on the etiquette of this sublime outdoor cooking activity . When a man volunteers to do the cooking on a BBQ, the following chain of events is put into motion:

Routine:

(1) The woman buys the food.

(2) The woman makes the salad, prepares the vegetables, and makes dessert.

(3) The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is lounging beside the grill, beer in hand.

(4) The woman remains outside the compulsory three meter exclusion zone where the exuberance of testosterone and other manly bonding activities can take place without the interference of estrogen.

Here comes the important part:

(5) THE MAN PLACES THE MEAT ON THE GRILL.

More routine:

(6) The woman goes inside to organize the plates and cutlery.

(7) The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is looking great. He thanks her and asks if she will bring another beer while he flips the meat.

Important again:

(8) THE MAN TAKES THE MEAT OFF THE GRILL AND HANDS IT TO THE WOMAN.

More routine:

(9) The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, napkins, sauces, and brings them to the table.

(10) After eating, the woman clears the table and does the dishes.

And most important of all:

(11) Everyone PRAISES the MAN and THANKS HIM for his cooking efforts.

Whereupon:

(12) The man asks the woman how she enjoyed “her night off” and, upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that there’s just no pleasing a woman!

thanks to sreiels for sharing!

for the man who has everything and no place to park it. . .

2010-06-04T11:53:00.000-07:00

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/03/garden/03qna.html

and i thought dubya had trouble with basic grammar. . .

2010-06-03T16:14:00.000-07:00

Personalize funny videos and birthday eCards at JibJab!

if you're running for elected office, and sarah palin shows up, run away! run away!

2010-06-02T13:27:00.000-07:00

the palin brand: bone-headed, defiant and willfully ignorant.

(click the nyt logo for the story)

my brother was such a sap. . .he loved to listen to andrea bocelli. . .so. . .

2010-06-02T13:05:00.000-07:00

The Prayer (with Celine Dion)

I pray you'll be our eyes,

and watch us where we go
And help us to be wise,
in times when we don't know

Let this be our prayer,
when we lose our way
Lead us to the place,
guide us with your grace
To a place where we'll be safe.

La luce che tu dai
I pray we'll find your light
Nel cuore resterà
And hold it in our hearts
A ricordarci che
When stars go out each night
L'eterna stella sei

Nella mia preghiera
Let this be our prayer
Quanta fede c'è
When shadows fill our day
Lead us to a place
Guide us with your grace
Give us faith so we'll be safe

Sognamo un mondo senza più violenza
Un mondo di giustizia e di speranza
Ognuno dia la mano al suo vicino
Simbolo di pace e di fraternità
La forza che ci dia

We ask that life be kind
È il desiderio che
And watch us from above
Ognuno trovi amor
We hope each soul will find
Intorno e dentro a sè
Another soul to love

Let this be our prayer
Just like every child
Needs to find a place,
guide us with your grace
Give us faith so we'll be safe

E la fede che
Hai acceso in noi
Sento che ci salverà

does that thing have a hemi. . .part deux

2010-06-01T12:24:00.000-07:00

there was a tiny fiat 850 parked outside my office today.

funny thing, though. . .

there were two radar/laser detectors attached to the windshield.

one must ask. . .it will hardly maintain freeway speed anyway. . .

so what's the point? i mean, really???

NYTimes.com: Who Wants to Elect a Millionaire?

2010-05-27T13:58:00.001-07:00

OPINION | May 27, 2010
Op-Ed Columnist: Who Wants to Elect a Millionaire?
By GAIL COLLINS
Contempt for political insiders and lust for the self-financed candidate have created a win-win for the wealthy. Just look at Connecticut.

geeks of the world rejoice!

2010-05-26T13:28:00.000-07:00

our next inductees into the bored stiff geeks hall of fame

2010-05-26T07:10:00.000-07:00

what do you get when you mix dyson air multiplier™ fans and a balloon?

some geeks with too much time on their hands.

it'll be a cold day in new jerseybefore new york gets a super bowl. . .

2010-05-25T15:07:00.000-07:00

new york awarded 2014 super bowl

to be played at the meadowlands in new jersey. . .

wouldn't it be cool to see the giants and the jets in the same game?

picture: michael falco for nytimes

'nuf said

2010-05-24T00:52:00.000-07:00

Gene and Me, 1990.

What’s in a name?

Gene. Short form of Eugene, English variant of the Greek name Eugenios, meaning well or proudly born.

A dignified name, fits my brother nicely. Just don’t call him Eugene. His name is Gene. He is immensely proud of that name.

There was a time in his life that he just didn’t like it, and insisted his parents call him. . .Chip. He thought the name Gene was. . . too feminine? Unusual?

It was a phase, thankfully. His name is Gene, and proud is he of that name.

Callahan. His great-grandfather’s name. As Irish a name as the day is long. Strangely enough, as a given name, it means contention or strife. I just learned that bit last Friday. It’s ironic, because my parents and Gene often did not see eye-to-eye, which was a source of contention. . .but they have always respected each other. Gene bears the name Callahan with gusto. He gave it to his firstborn son. If he hadn’t, I would have.

Gene recently became quite fascinated with all things Irish—music, dance, history, and—you’ll forgive me father—Gene loves Irish whisky. . .but that’s a story for another time. Gene has always been proud of his heritage, and lately was becoming more so.

I’d like to paraphrase from a letter Gene wrote to his children in March, to illustrate this particular point of his pride. He wanted them to knowwho they are and from where they come:

Munster, the southwestern province of Ireland, was ruled by a people called Eóghanachta for almost 16 centuries. The Eóghanachta take their name from Eóghan Mór, who died about 192 A.D., and is the earliest-known ancestor of the MacCarthys. Of the Eóghanachta, the MacCarthys were Kings of Lower Munster or Desmond from 1118 to 1596.

Gene’s point? We are descended of Irish Noble Blood.

The English form of the name Eóghanachta is. . .Eugenian.

According to the best known of ancient Irish legal texts, these are qualifications of a just ruler: That he does not violate his people by falsehood, force, or superior strength; let him be a just, sound mediator between weak and strong. Let him be a man of full righteousness on every side, let him be a man who inquires after knowledge, let him be an abode of patience.

. . .that sounds a bit like Gene.

I'd like to say a few words to his family, his people:

Ryan. You are the strong, quiet one, with a dry wit inherited from your dad. You are headstrong, but not stubborn. You have an artistic streak which I envy. You have been thrust into the role of man-of-the-family at much too early an age, but you’re bearing up quite well.

Connor, two years younger. Your humor manifests itself a little more as mischief. You’re the sensitive one. You wear your heart on your sleeve at times, whether it comes forth as anger, or compassion, or wit. You are as likely to show emotion openly as you are to crawl under a rock. . .either of which is ok. You too have been forced to grow up too quickly due to circumstance, but you’ve come a long way lately.

Meagan, two years younger again. Gene’s little princess turned tall beauty. Your personality and wit remind me of my own sister sometimes. You danced your way into our hearts from the very beginning. . .appropriate, since you are now studying dance. You are maturing magnificently.

Allison, the surprise bundle of joy. Five years after Meagan. You were so shy and quiet in the beginning. . .but not any more. You’re a charmer. Your humor is a perfect mix from your dad, and from your brothers and sister. You’ve grown very nicely yourself. Keep your brothers in line.

Lori, thank you so much for bringing four such beautiful people into this world and raising them so well with Gene. . .and Sabrina, thank you (and Lori) for being such a joy and comfort to Gene for all his days.

Gene is insanely proud of all of you, and he loves you dearly. It sounds cliché, but he is watching over you.

Gene was a tough person, not so much that he wouldn’t ask for help if he needed it. He would do anything for his family. Nothing is beneath him. When times were tough, Gene was not too self-important to work the odd job or two to make ends meet, all in the name of his family. While he and Sabrina were away in Florida, his heart ached for you, his children, and it was that heartache which brought him back to Oregon, to be nearer to all of you.

Our hearts ache with yours that he wasn’t here longer.

Gene loves all of us—this won’t change. He will be here with us as long as we continue to keep him in our hearts, to think of him and talk to him. You might have noticed that I have been speaking of Gene mainly in the present tense, because I believe he is still here with us, part of us, perhaps not in body, but certainly in spirit.

I am honored to call Gene my brother, my friend. I hope I can live up to his pride in me. He envies his sister’s accomplishments, even if he never said as much to her. He is immeasurably proud of his parents, of what they stand for and what they gave to him. His parents are proud of him as a son, we are all proud of what he gave as a father. I know in my heart that you, his children, are proud of him.

So what’s in a name?

Gene summed it up in his person. Pride. . .not boastful or conceited, but Valiant. Magnanimous. Gregarious. Full of love for his family and friends in abundance.

All that, in his name.

As Gene would say at this point, 'nuf said. . .

Before I go, I would like to share with you a simple prayer, which Gene spoke in this very room at our father’s funeral fifteen years ago. It is likely the most beautiful prayer I have ever heard. It bears repeating today for Gene.

Please close your eyes, listen carefully, and you’ll understand.

said

by some

that when a bell

rings, a soul, waiting

to get into heaven, gets

its wings to take it there.

the next time you hear a bell

close your eyes, think of Gene,

pray with all your heart and soul

that this time, Gene gets his wings

to take him to paradise and to those who

are waiting

for him.

---------------------------------------------------------

Gene Callahan McCarthy

Proud Father, Proud Son, Proud Brother

21 August 1955 - 18 May 2010

Too short a time indeed.

We love you. We will miss you.

We weep because you are gone in body,

We rejoice because you are here in our hearts.

Save a seat at God's banquet for us.

Hoist a glass of the Water of Life with Dad,

And save a drop for me for when I join you.

must be the clouds in my eyes

2010-05-18T19:50:00.000-07:00

daniel is travelling tonight on a plane

i can see the red tail lights heading for spain, oh and

i can see daniel waving goodbye

god it looks like daniel,

must be the clouds in my eyes

they say spain is pretty though i've never been

well daniel says it's the best place that he's ever seen, oh and

he should know, he's been there enough

lord i miss daniel, oh i miss him so much

daniel my brother you are older than me.
do you still feel the pain of the scars that won't heal?
your eyes have died,

but you see more than i.

daniel you're a star in the face of the sky

daniel is travelling tonight on a plane

i can see the red tail lights heading for spain, oh and

i can see daniel waving goodbye

god it looks like daniel, must be the clouds in my eyes

oh god it looks like daniel,

must be the clouds in my eyes

ok, i'll admit it. it's my $17 mill. the cars are MINE.

2010-05-17T09:15:00.000-07:00

mystery buyer allegedly puts in
$17M order for ten Aston Martin supercars. . .

does that thing have a hemi??

2010-05-13T00:52:00.000-07:00

nyt.com

and bad mistakes i've made a few i've had my share of sand kicked in my face but i've come through. . .

2010-05-12T18:21:00.000-07:00

I've paid my dues time after time
I've done my sentence but committed no crime
And bad mistakes I've made a few
I've had my share of sand kicked in my face
But I've come through

We are the champions, my friends
And we'll keep on fighting till the end
We are the champions, we are the champions
No time for losers, 'cause we are the champions of the world

I've taken my bows and my curtain calls
You brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it
I thank you all

But it's been no bed of roses, no pleasure cruise
I consider it a challenge before the whole human race
And I ain't gonna lose

We are the champions, my friends
And we'll keep on fighting till the end
We are the champions, we are the champions
No time for losers, 'cause we are the champions, of the world

as if i didn't already have enough to do today

2010-05-11T06:54:00.000-07:00

"make no plans for the rest of the day. . ."

yeah, ok, um, when?

nyt.com

Update: Sarah Palin and Discovery

2010-05-10T23:59:00.000-07:00

Discovery Communications is feeling the pressure. On Wednesday,we hand-delivered the signatures of more than 234,000 CREDO Action members toDiscovery Communications. And since Monday, more than 4,500 CREDO Action members have jammed Discovery'sphone lines with calls opposing their decision to run Sarah Palin's show.

Together with our friends at Defenders ofWildlife — who have also sent hundreds of thousands of signatures and thousandsof calls — we have forcedDiscovery to listen. The company released this statementin light of our pressure:

"The program will be character driven andcentered around Sarah Palin and the pioneering people who make up our 49thstate. There will be no politics, policy or advocacy associated with thisprogram. It is not a nature documentary, a travelogue nor will it endorse anynatural resource or wildlife management policies."

They don't get it. Sarah Palin is apolitician — and there is no way to separate her political life from her TVshow. Any platform that allows Sarah Palin to promote a green messagesacrifices the integrity of the Discovery brand. It also helps Palin preparefor a 2012 presidential run and adds $2 million to her personal fortune.

We must keep the pressure on. Here are twoways you can help:

1. Get us to 5,000 calls. If you haven'tmade a call yet, please do so at your next available moment between 8:30 a.m.and 6 p.m. Eastern, Monday through Friday. Click here for a number to call and a sample script.

2. Get us to 250,000signatures. Spread the word to your friends, family, andcoworkers. Click here for our easy tell-a-friend tools.

Thank you for your help in our campaign tokeep Sarah Palin off Discovery!

LiAnna Davis, Campaign Manager
CREDO Action from Working Assets

Armaments 2: 9-21

2010-05-10T15:26:00.000-07:00

LAUNCELOT: We have the Holy Hand Grenade.
ARTHUR: Yes, of course! The Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch! 'Tis one of the sacred relics Brother Maynard carries with him! Brother Maynard! Bring up the Holy Hand Grenade!
[monks processing and singing: Pie Iesu Domine, Dona Eis Requiem]
How does it, uh... how does it work?
KNIGHT: I know not, my liege.
ARTHUR: Consult the Book of Armaments!
MAYNARD: Armaments, Chapter Two, Verses Nine to Twenty-One.
BROTHER: "And Saint Atila raised the hand grenade up on high, saying, 'Oh, Lord, bless this thy hand grenade that with it thou mayest blow thine enemies to tiny bits, in thy mercy.' And the Lord did grin, and people did feast upon the lambs, and sloths, and carp, and anchovies, and orangutans, and breakfast cereals, and fruit bats, and large --"
MAYNARD: Skip a bit, Brother.
BROTHER: "And the Lord spake, saying, 'First shalt thou take out the Holy Pin. Then, shalt thou count to three, no more, no less. Three shalt be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shalt be three. Four shalt thou not count, nor either count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch toward thy foe, who being naughty in my sight, shall snuff it.'"
MAYNARD: Amen.
ALL: Amen.
ARTHUR: Right! One... two... five!
KNIGHT: Three, sir!
ARTHUR: Three!
KNIGHT: Throw it, my lord! Throw it!
ARTHUR: Oh!. . .

(BOOM)

and now for something completely different. . .

2010-05-10T15:02:00.000-07:00

in honor of monty python and the 35th anniversary of
Monty Python and the Holy Grail's release in the US. . .

i fart in your general direction.

it's only a flesh wound

2010-05-10T08:50:00.000-07:00

come back! i'll bite your shins!

do i get the leninist discount?

2010-05-10T00:29:00.000-07:00

most beautiful word in any language

2010-05-09T00:01:00.000-07:00

mom.

to all of the mothers in my life. . .my mother, and my wife. may i make you proud, and make you happy. . .both of you.

happy mother's day, to both of you.

pneu. mo. nia, part deux

2010-05-08T21:50:00.000-07:00

didn't get to see gene today. heard from my mother that he was semiconscious today, responsive to commands and to her voice. good signs.

connor went to visit him today--i didn't expect connor to go until tomorrow (VERY long story). i will go to see him tomorrow, and pray for a complete recovery...speedy if possible, but if not, i'll be happy for the recovery when it comes.

gene, you came back from florida because of your kids.

now you need to come back with a vengeance. . .for your kids.

3 words: pneu. mo. nia.

2010-05-07T21:53:00.000-07:00

it's a classic pain the in neck, chest, bowels, and the rest of you. thank god i don't have it--my brother does.

he's in hospital--ICU, for crying out loud--and will probably be there for days. was feverish (106!), dehydrated, and loopy from the lack of oxygen. now, we just wait for the recovery. . .

say a prayer, please.

cheers, dad, part deux, and happy birthday

2010-05-04T08:00:00.000-07:00

this is a retread of an old post. it's worth sharing again.

dad, at a party, christmas eve, mid 1983 or 1984

in most of the old candid party or social pictures of my dad, he is holding a drink in his hand. he wasn't a heavy drinker at all--it's just that he always seemed to carry that one glass of scotch with him all night at whatever party he was attending.

fr. vince (left) and my dad, at a christmas party, about 1980

he would nurse that one drink all night, and never need a refill.

that's what i call social drinking.

i'll drink to that, and i'll hoist a glass of scotch to your memory.

i love you, dad.

excuse me, officer, but i could've sworn i set the parking brake, part trois

2010-05-03T21:20:00.000-07:00

This brand-spanking-new Airbus 340-600, the largest passenger airplane ever built, sits just outside its hangar in Toulouse, France, without a single hour of airtime.

Enter the Arab flight crew of Abu Dhabi Aircraft Technologies (ADAT) to conduct pre-delivery tests on the ground, such as engine run-ups prior to delivery to Etihad Airways in Abu Dhabi. The ADAT crew taxied the A340-600 to the run-up area.

Then they took all four engines to takeoff power with a virtually empty aircraft. They had not read the run-up manuals, so they had no clue just how light an A340-600 is without passengers and luggage.

All 4 engines were at full power--the takeoff warning horn was blaring in the cockpit.

The aircraft computers thought they were trying to take off, but the aircraft's flaps and wings had not been configured properly.
In order to silence the alarm, one of the ADAT crew decided to pull the circuit breaker on the Ground Proximity Sensor. This fools the aircraft computer into thinking the plane is in the air.

The computers released all the brakes and set the aircraft rocketing forward. (The ADAT crew had no idea that this is a safety feature so that pilots can't land with the brakes on--they hadn't read the manual.)
Not one member of the seven-man crew had the presence of mind to throttle back the engines from their maximum power setting, so the brand-new $200 million aircraft crashed into a blast barrier.

The extent of injuries to the crew is unknown due to the news blackout in the major media in France and elsewhere. Coverage of the story was deemed "insulting to Arabs." Most coverage was whitewashed--some reports had the aircraft jumping over its wheel chocks or blaming the accident on some mechanical failure.

The photos are starting to leak out.

A French Airbus A340-600: $200 million dollars

Untrained Flight Crew Salary: $300,000 per year

Unread Operating Manual: $300

Aircraft meets immovable object: PRICELESS!!!

one of these days, alice, pow, right to the kisser

2010-04-30T16:26:00.000-07:00