Ememe

Meaning, I received this one via email....

2008 QUESTIONNAIRE Welcome to the 2008 edition of getting to know your friends. Change all the answers so they apply to you, and then send this to your friends including the person who sent it to you. The theory is that you will learn a lot of little things about your friends that you might not have known! 1. What time did you get up this morning? 7:00am 2. Diamonds or pearls? As I'll never be able to afford either, meh. 3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? Heh. Star Trek: Generations, I believe. Yep, haven't been to a cinema in around ten years. 4. What is your favorite TV show? Current? LOST All time? M*A*S*H 5. What do you usually have for breakfast? Coffee 6. What is your middle name? Robert 7. What food do you dislike? Asparagus 8. What is your favorite CD at the moment? Bela Fleck and the Flecktones: Live at the Quick 9. What kind of car do you drive? 1993 Dodge Spirit (with only 85k miles) 10. Favorite sandwich? Reuben (and let me tell you, it's hard to find a really good reuben around here) 11. What characteristic do you despise? Hypocrisy 12. Favorite item of clothing? My little black dress ... errr, wait. I don't have one of those! So... my Lleu t-shirt that I got for my birthday 12 years ago. 13. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go? /smiles/ 14. Are you an organized person? The answer to that is somewhere under the pile of papers next to me.... 15. Where would you retire to? The drawing room. 16. What was your most recent memorable birthday? I remember last year's, does that count? 17. What are you going to do when you finish this? Post it. 18. Furthest place you are sending this? Out to the entire InterWebs Tubes, so everywhere!!1! 19. Person you expect to send it back first? The first person to read it 20. When is your birthday? 11 July (see my wishlist in the sidebar if you care to celebrate it with me ;) ) 22. What is your shoe size? 11½ EEE 23. Pets? As often as I can. Oh, you mean do I have any? Yup. Muh kittehs, Puff and Callie. 24. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share? No. 25. What did you want to be when you were little? An astronaut. But then I got bigger and bigger ... and bigger. I quickly outgrew the height limitation. 26. How are you today? Sad that George Carlin died, but otherwise okay. 27. What is your favorite flower? Whatever fragrant blossoms are now in season. 29. What are you listening to right now? Classical music on the radio. 30. What is a day on the calendar you are looking forward to? Dunno. 29. What was the last thing you ate? Popcorn. 31. Do you wish on stars? Sometimes, but more often on the moon (my ruling planet). 32. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Purple 33. How is the weather right now? Be-yoo-ti-ful! 34. Last person you spoke to on the phone? If Skype counts, my Dad. Otherwise, my friend Crystal. 35. Favorite soft drink? Don't drink soft drinks,unless they have liquor in them. ;) 36. Favorite restaurant? Jack of the Wood, in Asheville (they have really good reubens... not to mention Green Man beers, brewed on-site). 37. Hair color? Dark brown 38. What was your favorite toy as a child? My Red Rider BB gun (no, I didn't put my eye out). 39. Summer or W Chrissiinter? WTP does that mean? 41. Chocolate or Vanilla? Duh. Chocolate. 42. Coffee or tea? Coffee 43. Do you want your friends to email you back? Well, as I'm posting this on my blog, I don't see as how that's necessary, but if any of them want to, sure. 44. When was the last time you cried? One day last week. 45. What is under your bed? The steering wheel of the Secret Lair (aka '73 Winnebago) - I built a bed shelf over the 'cockpit' several years ago. 46. What did you do last night? Chatted with a dear friend, and the second string as well. 47. What are you afraid of? Another Republican administration. Ever. 48. Salty or sweet? I am both. 49. How many keys on your key ring? One. 50. How many years at your current job? I've been working for Gentleman Farmer since 2001, on and off. 51. Favorite day of the week? A day is a day is a day. 52. Do you make friends easily? Kinda. It depends on the person. 53. How many people will you send this to? Approximately 6.5 billion 54. How many will respond? A helluva lot less than 6.5 billion! 55. Do you like finding out all this stuff about your friends? Yes, it's nice to get to know friends better.

NOTE: The questions are numbered just as I received them. I have no idea what happened to the missing questions. If you see them, let me know.


If you read this, you must answer or you will break the chain, and your inbox will be flooded with "Viarga[sic]" and "Baby Maker" spams. Or not.

Is It Just Me...

...or is there something that just doesn't sound right about the following:

the Sierra Club and our friends at the United Steelworkers (USW) jointly endorsed Barack Obama for President.

(from an email received this morning)

The Sierra Club and the United Steelworkers, eh?

Is that anything like "and the lion shall lie down with the lamb"?

Creative Writing: Part the Fourth - the Request Post

Okay folks, it's time to give me some snippets, some quotes to use, some bit of action, some ... thing - which I will (attempt) to weave into a coherent story.

Something along the lines of:

The vacuum cleaner took the tirade in stride, and calmly continued its task.

Results of the previous "chapters" can be found in the sidebar, over ---->

RIP George

A cache of Carlinania (so called because he was a master of pointing out the inane - with a h/t to Jen):



So sad.

Here's more of the master of linguistic comedy. (unembeddable)

Carlin on "Countdown" (transcript):



Here is (for those who can't watch videos) a transcript of Carlin's diatribe on Religion, and here is his monolog on "Transhumanism".

REVA*

Jen pointed me to this one. The title translates correctly as "Virtual Eruptions". However, in Spanish (or so Jen tells me - and I have no reason to doubt her), "erupción" also translates as "burp".

Look at the photo again.


*"Riéndose en Voz Alta" or "Laughing out Loud"

Saturday Fiction 3

Teresa was on her way to Las Vegas, having gotten a tip that Bill and Jerry had been spotted at the Luxor, when her cell phone rang. "Hello?" "Hi, Teresa, it's Lynne," came the response. "I've got good news for you. We've decided to push up the release date of your book to next week." Teresa had been waiting months to hear this news, but was, for the moment, confused - her mind was so focused on getting to Vegas before Bill left town. "I'm sorry?" she asked. "Book? ... Oh! Why, that's great!" "I thought you'd be happy," Lynne replied. "But I need you to be in New York this afternoon. We've booked you on Regis & Kelly to talk about it. There's a ticket waiting at the airport for you. Oh, and make sure you pack a green outfit." Why was green so very important? She had no idea. But that really wasn't a concern right now. "Ummm, I'm not at home. I'm on I-40 between Flagstaff and Kingman, on my way to Vegas." She hesitated, not wanting to say why she was on her way to Vegas. Somehow, she didn't think that telling her editor that she was on her way to kill her ex would be a career plus. "Vegas? Okay,... we can get you a ticket on the red-eye into New York, and I'll get someone to pick up an outfit for you." Lynne said. "Postpone your gambling and head to the airport. I'll have a driver waiting at Newark, to take you to your hotel. See you in the morning!" ... and she hung up. Shit. Shit, shit, shit... Teresa thought as she dropped the cell phone on the seat beside her.... Meanwhile, in Vegas............ Bill awoke from a deep sleep and looked around the room. Luckily, Jerry was not there. Breathing a sigh of relief, Bill let go of the closed umbrella he had been clutching when he finally drifted off to sleep, got up from the bed, and headed for the bathroom. Bill wasn't sure what had been going on with Jerry the night before. He'd been perfectly content to let the laundry pile up in the corner. That is, until the pile started talking to him. Bill suspected it had something to do with the 300 pound Samoan he had seen talking to Jerry in the casino earlier. Something wasn't quite right about the guy - flailing his arms about like he was swatting at giant flies and all that. As he stepped under the stream of hot water in the shower, he thought again about trying to call Teresa and seeing if he could explain. By the time he finished showering, he knew exactly what he would say to her ... if she answered the phone. He reached for the towel and his hand closed on something unexpected. What was this? A second umbrella?... Later that morning, in the Green Room of the Regis & Kelly show....... Teresa finished off her fourth cup of coffee since awakening, confused, in her hotel room. She really needed to pee, but had been cornered by Regis, who was telling stories of his childhood, and Kelly - who was being very ... Kelly. As Regis finished a story about how his mom did his nail polish the first time he cross-dressed, Teresa looked around desperately, hoping to catch Lynne's attention. Unfortunately, Lynne had left the room with one of the other guests, to do what Teresa didn't know. As Regis paused in his torrent of tales of his youth, Kelly piped up with a series of questions. When the host asked how A Wizard of Earthsea was different than Harry Potter, she sat stunned for a moment and then realized, she was in the presence of stupid people with no knowledge of classical fantasy. Teresa stood up abruptly and she cried, "No more, no more" and ran out of the room. She ran down the hall and out to the street, where she stood stunned. It was raining, but it wasn't water falling from the sky. She started shaking her head in denial as she stared at the scene in front of her. It had been years since she had seen that many frogs in one place.... Back in Vegas............ Bill hurried down the hall of the luxury hotel, buttoning his shirt with one hand, and trying not to drop his shoes as he rushed for the elevator. Something was very wrong. He jabbed at the "G" repeatedly, hoping - as people in a hurry always do - that it would somehow speed up the process of the elevator doors closing and the car getting to its destination. The elevator performed its duties in at its own pace, however, but eventually (to Bill's frantic thinking) opened the doors and let him out in the lobby. He ran past the slot machines and out the door, planning on grabbing the first taxi in line to get him the hell away from whatever was happening back in the room that he and Jerry had been sharing. As the heat of a Las Vegas day hit him, he skidded to a halt, confused. There were no taxis or shuttle buses under the canopy. There was no valet, waiting for the next guest to arrive. There were no people visible anywhere. It was just too damn quiet outside.... ____________ He looked up from the unfinished manuscript and around the nearly empty room. This was just one of many partial stories that Arianne had left behind when she abruptly closed her bakery and left town, and he had finally gotten around to putting them into storage. He couldn't bring himself to throw them away, hoping that she would someday return. Guy sighed again as he looked around the large apartment that Arianne and he had called home for the short time they were together. The bells in the cathedral tolled 8, but it was only 3:45 as he reached over to get another box into which to put the stories and the other remainders of their relationship, and noticed that the boxes, once seemingly an endless pile, had suddenly run out. There was no container for the most precious of their belongings. Then he noticed the TCU umbrella in the corner.

As always, the suggested bits are in bold. Links for the previous two editions can be found in the sidebar. Look for the next request post on Monday!!

The Inevitable Companion Post

...for the Which Superhero Are You post:

Which Supervillain Are You?

Your results:
You are Apocalypse

Apocalypse 61% The Joker 54% Poison Ivy 54% Mr. Freeze 54% Dr. Doom 53% Magneto 50% Dark Phoenix 50% Riddler 50% Venom 45% Mystique 44% Lex Luthor 39% Juggernaut 28% Kingpin 28% Green Goblin 24% Catwoman 20% Two-Face 20%

You believe in survival of the fittest and you believe that you are the fittest.*

Click here to take the Supervillain Personality Quiz

(h/t to SAP)

*Also? I so don't believe that. FWIW

Have I Mentioned....

...that I love Firefox3?

It's faster, less of a resource hog, and...

Ever since I installed it, YouTube videos have been working for me again!!!!!

Yay, w00t, yee-ha, and yippeeeee!


That is all.

Heh

(h/t to BlueGal)

Happy Solstice and Break A Leg!

Today is the longest day of the year (in the Northern Hemisphere, that is), also known as the Summer Solstice! The actual solstice will be at 7:59pm EDT, so be on the lookout for Oberon and Titania, and if you see a hat and cane with a donkey-head knob ... don't put it on/pick it up!!*

Also, tonight is opening night for the 58th season of the outdoor drama Horn in the West. I was a cast member of that show for several years, and I wrote a bit about it here (including a short clip of me singing).

It has been ten years since I was in the show, but I still remember it fondly. I was in over 250 performances, including several performances where I played the role of Preacher Sims - a part which I understudied all the years I was there. I miss doing the show, it was so much fun.

So, to all my friends who are still doing Horn, I wish you a heartfelt "Break a leg!" and good weather for opening night, and indeed, the whole season. I hope to be able to make it up to Boone to see the show sometime this summer, but if I don't, you can be sure I'm thinking of you guys.

(Wes Martin and Darrell King as Dan'l Boone and Rev. Isaiah Sims, respectively)

*An if thou know'st not of what I speak
then watchest thee this video (beginning at around 3:45 in)

Thursday Python Random Monty SPECIAL BONUS EDITION

Your result for The Monty Python Character Test...

Centurion

You scored 60 Stubborn, 50 Crazy, 41 Agressive, and 60 Evil!

Appearance: Life of Brian



The black shadowed person in helmet.





High Light:



Latin Lesson.



Brian is writing a slogan to a wall, oblivious to the Roman patrol approaching from behind. The slogan is "ROMANES EUNT DOMUS".



Centurion: What's this then? "ROMANES EUNT DOMUS"? "People called Romanes they go the house"?

Brian: It, it says "Romans go home".

Centurion: No it doesn't. What's Latin for "Roman"?

Brian: (hesitates)

Centurion: Come on, come on!

Brian: (uncertain) "ROMANUS".

Centurion: Goes like?

Brian: "-ANUS".

Centurion: Vocative plural of "-ANUS" is?

Brian: "-ANI".

Centurion: (takes paintbrush from Brian and paints over) "RO-MA-NI".
"EUNT"? What is "EUNT"?

Brian: "Go".

Centurion: Conjugate the verb "to go"!

Brian: "IRE". "EO", "IS", "IT", "IMUS", "ITIS", "EUNT".

Centurion:So "EUNT" is ...?

Brian: Third person plural present indicative, "they go".

Centurion: But "Romans, go home!" is an order, so you must use the ...?


(lifts Brian by his hairs)


Brian: The ... imperative.

Centurion: Which is?

Brian: Ahm, oh, oh, "I", "I"!

Centurion: How many romans?

(pulls harder)


Brian: Plural, plural! "ITE".

Centurion: (strikes over "EUNT" and paints "ITE" to the wall)
(satisfied) "I-TE".
"DOMUS"? Nominative? "Go home", this is motion towards, isn't it, boy?

Brian: (very anxious) Dative?

Centurion:(draws his sword and holds it to Brian's throat)

Brian: Ahh! No, ablative, ablative, sir. No, the, accusative, accusative,
ah, DOMUM, sir.

Centurion:Except that "DOMUS" takes the ...?

Brian: ... the locative, sir!

Centurion: Which is?

Brian: "DOMUM".

Centurion: (satisfied) "DOMUM" (strikes out "DOMUS" and writes "DOMUM") "-MUM".
Understand?

Brian: Yes sir.

Centurion: Now write it down a hundred times.

Brian: Yes sir, thank you sir, hail Caesar, sir.

Centurion: (salutes) Hail Caesar.
If it's not done by sunrise, I'll cut your balls off.

Brian: (very reliefed) Oh thank you sir, thank you sir, hail Caesar and
everything, sir!

Take The Monty Python Character Test at HelloQuizzy

(h/t to Wyldth1ng)

Thursday Python Random Monty

Pheaux Phyre Phorum: The Awesomely Awesome Solstice Moon Edition

Christina sent me this link, which explains part of this week's title.

Hello, phellow campers!!!!

Let's get this phyre started!!!

Munchies, mixers, and et cetera all in the usual places.

What be on ye mind, this e'en?

George W. Bush: Profile of Putrescence

Oh, what is it this time, you ask?

He speaks up for his BFF John "I Never Met An Issue I Couldn't Flip-flop On" McCain, and says we should open up the continental shelf for oil drilling.

From the NYT article:

President Bush urged Congress on Wednesday to end a federal ban on offshore oil drilling and open a portion of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge for oil exploration, asserting that those steps and others would lower gasoline prices and “strengthen our national security.” [snip] The party’s presumptive presidential nominee, Senator John McCain of Arizona, used a speech in Houston on Tuesday to say he now favors offshore drilling, an announcement that infuriated environmentalists who had long viewed him as an ally. Florida’s Republican governor, Charlie Crist, immediately joined Mr. McCain, saying that he, too, now wants an end to the ban. [snip] ...Mr. Bush’s father signed a presidential executive order in 1990 banning coastal oil exploration, and Mr. Bush’s brother Jeb was an outspoken opponent of offshore drilling when he was governor of Florida. Now, though, President Bush is considering retracting his father’s order. Although the chief White House spokeswoman, Dana Perino, said Mr. Bush “is not taking any executive action” on Wednesday, two people outside the White House said such a move was under serious consideration, and a senior White House official did not dispute their account.

But here's the best part:

No one knows for certain how much oil is in the moratorium area. The federal Energy Information Administration estimates that roughly 75 billion barrels of oil in the United States may be found in all areas of the country that are now off limits for development, and that 21 percent of this oil — or about 16 billion barrels — is covered by the offshore moratorium.

According to consumption statistics from 2006, the US uses 20,730,000 barrels of oil per day. So ... carry the one... that works out to approximately 711 days of oil consumption. In 2006. And I'm sure that in the eight to ten years it would take for those oil wells to begin producing that we would never increase our consumption of oil over 2006 levels.


George W. Bush. Still a douche. 215 days left until FREEEEEDOM!!!

Can't. Stop. Laughing.

more funny fail pictures at FAIL Blog

Creative Writing Threedux

Okay folks, you know the drill.

You give me snippets - something like:

The bells in the cathedral tolled 8, but it was only 3:45.

and I give you a story on Saturday (links to previous installments can be found in my sidebar).

So what are you gonna give me to work with this week? (Remember, it's more fun if you don't read the other comments before you leave your own!!)

Father's Day Post

(my dad circa 1958)

Happy Father's Day to my Dad, my Brothers, and all the other dads out there!!!

(why isn't there an Uncle's Day?)

Saturday Fiction

As you know, I am doing this as a weekly feature - well, until the creative well runs dry. Last week's story is here. This week's submissions are in bold (if you want to check up on me, the comment thread is here). Apologies to Garrison Keillor and the ghost of Hunter S. Thompson, but that's where your comments led me this week, folks.

It was a dark night in the city in the mountains. I had been hitting the bottle pretty hard at the Five Spot, my favorite watering hole. I dragged my bleary eyes up towards the clock behind the bar. At first, the clock on the wall read half passed[sic] a monkey's ass, a quarter 'til his balls, but after I rubbed my eyes, I realized that I was still mildly drunk and the clock really read 1:17a.m. Okay, I was more than mildly drunk. I was well on my way to being plastered... or beyond. Jimmy wasn't there that night, and Ellen, the substitute bartender, could see the mood I was in and was setting down a fresh drink for me before I could even ask. The rain was coming down outside like the flow of Niagara over the falls, and the frequent lightning showed the deserted late night streets of the "metropolis" of AsheVegas. Even the cabbies were laying low. I told Ellen to not make me any more drinks, as I had an early appointment the next morning with a potential client. It was a simple check on a business partner who was thought to be skimming profits, but it promised to pay well - and I needed the bucks, as the rent on my office was past due. All of us left in the bar turned to look as lightning struck a lamppost outside, the thunder loud enough to rattle the bottles of premium liquor on the top shelf behind the bar. The sound of the thunder echoed off the buildings of the city as I put on my raincoat and fedora. Ellen asked me if I wanted her to call me a cab, but I told her the walk back to the office would be good for me - and that I was a private investigator, not a mode of transportation. As I stood there, wobbling slightly due to the alcohol and waiting in vain for her to laugh at my joke, I noticed it was silent outside. The rumble had subsided and I went outside at last. I turned right to head down the street toward my office and the rumpled sofa I called my bed, and there she was. Tall and slim, with her long, curly red hair plastered to her head from the rain, she was wearing a white raincoat that looked like the repellent had worn out long ago. She was barefoot, and carrying one high-heeled shoe in her porcelain-skinned, long-fingered hand. "Excuse me, sir," she said in a throaty voice that would warm an Iditarod racer who had been on the go all day in a blizzard. Do you know the famous detective, Guy Noir? The doorman at his building said he hangs out in the bar you just left." "I not only know him, I am him," I replied. "Wow," she said. "That's some kind of coincidence." "I'm in no position to believe in coincidence." She grabbed hold of me as another bolt of lightning struck nearby, wrapping her slim arms around my neck and holding on tight. I could feel her heart beating against my chest as she sobbed quietly. She looked at me sheepishly as she released me and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Noir. I'm a bit afraid of thunderstorms. I didn't hurt you, did I?" "My neck hurts," I replied, still feeling the warmth of her being pressed against me, "but that's an old injury and not your fault. Why don't we go to my office and out of this storm, and you can tell me why you were looking for me?" A part of me hoped another lightning bolt would cause her to grab hold of me again, as it had been some time since a beautiful woman had been that close to me, but we made it to the Acme Building without any of them. We went up the elevator to my floor and into my office. I went into my bathroom to get her a towel so she could dry her hair and face, and when I came back out I stood stunned for a moment. She had taken off her raincoat, and stood there wearing a rain-soaked peasant blouse and a skirt so short I could see the bottom of the word "Saturday" embroidered on the back of her panties. I handed her the towel and went to the closet to get her one of my spare shirts. "Here," I said, handing her the shirt, "you can go into the bathroom and put this on. We can hang your blouse over the radiator to dry." Her pale face turned red as she looked down at her blouse that was stuck to her like a second skin. "Thank you. I'm not leaving much to the imagination right now, am I?" "I don't mind," I said quietly to her back as she walked into the bathroom and closed the door. When she came out of the bathroom and laid her blouse and skirt on the top of the radiator, she told me why she had been looking for me. Her name was Arianne Campbell. She owned a small bake shop and cafe on the other side of town, and was having problems with the lawyer's office next door. There were all sorts of loud and strange noises coming from over there all day long, and it was scaring her patrons off. While she told her story, I stood at the window watching the rain fall. I had heard of the shop she owned. It was one of those sketchy places, but the food was great. I had never been there myself, as I was the type that preferred street vendor hot dogs to gluten-free carob chip muffins. When she fell silent, I turned to tell her my standard rates and saw that she had fallen asleep on the sofa. I sighed, pulled my tattered blanket over her, and sat down at my desk. I put my feet up on the desk and settled back to nap a bit myself, somewhat glad that we didn't negotiate my fee while I was drunk. That had never worked out well for me in the past.... The sound of the garbage truck backing into the alley outside my window woke me. The sun was low on the eastern horizon and just beginning to send its golden rays into my office. I looked over at the sofa and wasn't surprised to see it empty. I brewed a pot of coffee and washed my face, then decided, since my appointment wasn't for another two hours, to head over to her place - make sure she was okay and to return her clothes that she had left on the now cold radiator. As the cab pulled up to her address, I could see her standing on the sidewalk in front of her shop. She sighed as she watched the hand-painted sign flapping loosely above her little bakery: 'Pie Dough and Trends'. Once, it had been the favorite haunt of the "in" crowd. Now, she was in jeopardy of losing it. "Good morning, Miss Campbell," I said as I stepped up beside her and held out her blouse and skirt. "You left these at my office." She flashed a brilliant smile at me and said "I hope I didn't wake you when I left. I needed to get over here and open up ... in case anyone shows up wanting food, that is." Her large blue eyes began welling with tears as she turned and unlocked the front door of the shop. "Let me repay your generosity from last night by fixing you some breakfast." The strong coffee laying in my stomach lurched at the thought of a seven grain bagel joining it, and I graciously declined. "Well," I said, "I might as well look in on your neighbor while I'm here." A large man with long curly hair had just unlocked and entered the lawyer's office and it appeared they were now open for the day. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Noir!" she cried, hugging me tightly. I gave her a brief hug in return and then stepped through the door and into the law office. I was not prepared for the sight that greeted me. The large man had taken off his overcoat, and was standing in front of a picture of a tropical beach, wearing only a long print Polynesian skirt. "The Fucking Bees! Oh, Jesus God. Mother-kripes-fucker! What the poop!" he screamed at the picture. The picture on the wall just stared back at him. Never saying anything. He noticed me then and spun around shouting something that sounded like .... Mommadaddy smelled like trees. Burnt trees on a sultry Sunday morning. But I couldn't understand him because there was a disgusting fluid bubbling out of his mouth as he tried to speak. He lurched toward me and, before I could completely react, puked on me. My hand was covered in sticky, putrid goo, and there wasn't a sink to be found. He grabbed a coffee mug off the desk and swatted at the air around his head. He then turned his crazed gaze on me again and held the mug out in front of me like a gun. "Don't you point that coffee mug at me, young man!" I shouted at him, backing slowly toward the door. "I'm from Samoa!!!" he gibbered. "The Devil not only made me do it, but he changed the mug from a .357 Magnum into what you now see." His eyes suddenly rolled back in his head, and I thought he was going to pass out. Then he looked at me and said - in a calm voice, "Good morning, sir. May I help you? Let's go next door and get a bagel, okay?" I followed him into Pie Dough and Trends, somewhat taken aback by his sudden change of demeanor, and looked over at Arianne as the Samoan lawyer went into the bathroom to wash up. I started to ask her if he was the only person next door when a scream from the bathroom echoed through the shop. The door burst open and the Samoan stood there, drool dribbling from his chin and the crazed look back in his eyes. The so-called "luxury soap" left a nasty rash that crept up his forearms as he slowly advanced toward us, wielding a large sliver of broken mirror. Arianne screamed as he stabbed at me, and.....

Look for the new request post on Monday!!

/Wonders If It's Possible to Hibernate Through the Summer/

I sat down this morning to write a political post ... but then I saw this over at Zaius Nation. More of the same from the Repellican Party. Dr. Z's final paragraph pretty much sums things up:

It's not like the the media isn't paying attention to the stark differences between Michelle Obama and Cindy McCain, however. I did find two different articles that cover this story in detail. One was from Korea and the other one was from Africa.

Go read the whole thing, please.

Pilfered From Pidomon: Which Superhero Are You?

I found this over at his place last night (he stole it from swinebread):

Your results:
You are Spider-Man

Spider-Man 85% Green Lantern 75% Superman 60% Iron Man 60% Supergirl 55% Wonder Woman 50% Hulk 50% Catwoman 45% The Flash 45% Robin 40% Batman 20%

You are intelligent, witty, a bit geeky and have great power and responsibility.

Click here to take the "Which Superhero am I?" quiz...


And here I thought I'd be Ben Grimm (The Thing) or the Hulk.

Thursdom Ranty Pyday Monthon

Ah, a classic -- err, that's Classical!



Oh!

Don't forget to (if you have not already) leave me a comment on this week's Creative Writing post! New story on Saturday!!

I'm Voting Republican!*

Thank Ceiling Cat YouTube worked (for a moment) this morning.



(h/t to Mustang Bobby)

*yes, it's satire.

Pheaux Phyre Phorum: The No Spammers, My "Baby-maker" Does Not Need to be Updated Edition

Hello, All!

Does anyone ever really click on emails with those subject lines? Much less actually respond to them? I was cleaning out my spam folder this morning, and 12 of the 20 messages there had that subject line - or variations of it. Jeebus.

Anyway, it's time to light a Phyre!!! Don't worry, it's virtual and throws off no heat.

Whatchya got on yer minds, my phriends? Grab a beer (or gnat's piss if your name is pidomon) and speak up!!!

Sometimes You Just Need a Quickie

To steal a line from the inimitable Dr. Zaius:

No time for blogging today!!!

Thunderstorms have been barreling through here this afternoon, and I've been unplugged quite a bit. Plus, I'm actually working on some writing for pay! (don't worry, it's a mere pittance - but a pittance is better than an empty belly!)

So, .... ummm,... check out my blogrolls! Yeah, that's the ticket! They all have awesome things to say on a regular basis, so visit early and visit often.

Oh, and if you haven't yet, leave a comment on yesterday's post so your bit will be included in this week's Creative Writing Exercise!

Heh. The Wagner overture "made famous" by Bugs Bunny's "What's Opera Doc?" is playing on the radio right now. How drollishly apropos, WCQS host!


/dodges lightning bolts to click "Publish Post" button/

Coolest Photo of the ... Well, I'm Not Sure of the Timeframe Yet, But It's Pretty Dang Cool!

The Earth/Moon system as seen by the High Resolution Imaging Science Experiment (HiRISE) camera, currently in orbit around Mars.

(h/t Jeff Fecke at Shakesville)

Creative Writing Redux

Okay, I had so much fun with this post on Saturday that I'm gonna keep doing the same thing. For those who missed the setup the week before, what I'm doing is taking comments - a phrase or a "moment" of description - left in the designated thread (that would be this one) and writing a scene or possibly a complete short short story using all the comments - or as many as I can, as the case may be. An example might be:

"Don't you point that coffee mug at me, young man!"

I would like to add one thing. If you choose to leave a comment on this, please don't read the other comments (if any) before you leave yours. The challenge is for me to weave together unrelated bits into a coherent whole. I will post the new scene/story on Saturday.

So, whaddaya say?

I Didn't Duck In Time

... so pidomon tagged me for this one.

Two by Two

Two Names You Go By
1. Phy/Phyd/Phydeaux
2. Bob

Two things you are wearing right now
1. Gym shorts
2. "Support Your Local Brewer" tee shirt

Two of your favorite things
1.Raindrops on roses
2.Whiskers on kittens

Two things you want very badly at the moment
1. For Gentleman Farmer to return from vacation next week and decide it's time to start one of the three big projects he's had "just waiting to start" for the last few months (which would mean steady - and good - income for a while)
2. A batch of brownies and some dark chocolate ice cream to go on top :)

Two favorite pets you have or had
1. Serena, who was my kitty for 18 years.
2. Ginger, who was a ginger chow, and the bestest, sweetest doggie ever.

Two people you hope will fill this out
1. Jen
2. Christina

Two things you did last night
1. Hung out at the VPub for a bit
2. Watched Much Ado About Nothing and A Midsummer Night's Dream

Two things you ate last night
1. Macaroni
2. Cheese

Two people you last talked to
1. Downstairs Neighbor's squatter
2. Downstairs Neighbor's boy toy

Two things you are doing tomorrow
1. Meditating
2. Who knows, it's not tomorrow yet

Two of farthest trips taken in the last 5 years
1. Rigel VII (but I'm not supposed to talk about that)
2. Ormond Beach, FL

Two favorite holidays
1. I don't do holidays
2. I still don't do holidays

Two favorite beverages
1. Stout
2. Iced tea (sweet)

A Post For Saturday

As you may recall, last Saturday I had the idea that I would solicit "moments" from commenters and then weave them all into one story. Well, here 'tis (quotes in shades of red - thanks to Jen for pointing that out in comments):

Bill turned to Jerry and said, "Where did that armadillo come from?" Jerry replied, "That's not an armadillo. It looks more like an armored dildo." His response was unsatisfactory on so many levels. But then, Jerry was known for not being very satisfactory. On many levels. Bill stood there, watching the armored critter scurry across the shimmering pavement, and it suddenly dawned on him that he'd made a terrible mistake. Jerry had convinced him to go on the road trip, using that last fight Bill had with Teresa as the ultimate goad. And now, she was desperately searching for him in order eliminate him from her life for good! How could I have been so dumb? Bill thought to himself, thinking back to the scene a few days earlier. I want my two dollars!" Teresa shouted over the thunder. Bill stood there, with a hurt look on his face. He'd laughed once when she said things like that. Now he couldn't even manage a smile. Their relationship had always been ... exciting and somewhat contentious, but for many years he had always enjoyed the friction - and the making up. "Well? What do you have to say?" she asked. "The drawing was a few minutes ago. If you'll switch the TV over to the news, they'll be showing the numbers. I may have already won?" he responded, his voice growing desperate as her face grew darker with what appeared to be true anger. She considered a few possible responses, and then realized she had to leave before the rain began in earnest. "I just can't take it any more, Bill. We're broker than broke, and you're buying lottery tickets. I'll be ... I don't know. I just know I have to get out of here." Teresa grabbed her keys and left, slamming the kitchen door behind her, which caused - as always - the lower cabinet door to swing open, and the mutated cockroaches which had taken up residence there were suddenly bathed in the bright light of the kitchen. It became quite clear that the cockroaches - like Bill - had no other place to go. It was at that moment that Jerry showed up, and started talking about a road trip to Vegas....

Thanks for playing, everyone!!

A New Post*

Gas hit $4.00 a gallon here this week, and my '93 Dodge Spirit gets a whopping 23mpg. So that means to drive over to Gentleman Farmer's and back now costs me about $12 dollars.

So I'm thinking about getting a scooter. (Cause I want to be like Christina) At somewhere between 50 and 75 mpg? It's a no-brainer. So, I'm searching the classifieds and Craigslist for a 150cc model (the 50cc + mountains + my size = walking is faster). Also, the route I prefer to take to get to GentFarm's is mostly back roads anyway, so the lower speed won't be a problem.

Wish me luck.

*Because Dusty said so, that's why.

Wherein I Get All Philosophical

What philosophy do you follow? (v1.03) created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Existentialism Your life is guided by the concept of Existentialism: You choose the meaning and purpose of your life. “Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does.” “It is up to you to give [life] a meaning.” --Jean-Paul Sartre “It is man's natural sickness to believe that he possesses the Truth.” --Blaise Pascal More info at Arocoun's Wikipedia User Page... Existentialism 95% Hedonism 90% Utilitarianism 80% Justice (Fairness) 75% Kantianism 65% Apathy 45% Nihilism 35% Strong Egoism 30% Divine Command 15%

(h/t to Liss)

Thursday Python Random Monty

Pheaux Phyre Phorum: The Going Over to a Friend's House For Dinner and Not Sure What Time I'll Be Back Edition

So, now we're pretty sure that's it's gonna be Barack Obama -v- John McCain come November. This is gonna be "fun", where "fun" = "a pile of Republican-fanned racism and blatant lies".

But let's not talk about that tonight. In fact, let's talk about anything but that, kay?

The Final Tuesday

Well, until 4 November, that is.

Those bellwether* states, Montana and South Dakota, are voting today in the final primaries of the season (and there was great rejoicing throughout the land). It is most likely that Barack Obama will have enough delegates in his column after today to be the unofficial "candidate presumptive". And, according to posts at Shakesville, Hillary Clinton may be conceding tonight, and - GASP!!11! - might even be considering accepting an offer to be the Vice Presidential candidate.

How awesome would that be, for the Dems to be running an African-American (a young one at that) and a woman ... against the GOP's same-old Old Rich White Dudez ticket (c'mon, you know McCain's gonna pick some rich old fart)?

In any case, I am so glad that the primaries are over!!!


*an etymological aside - I've always thought the word was "bellweather" and that it had its genesis in "bell" and "weather", but I was wrong. (mark this date) The word actually comes from "a wether or other male sheep that leads the flock, usually bearing a bell", according to the dictionary. Thus endeth today's lesson in wordiness.

What I Didn't Tell You Friday

... when I posted about bush-hogging, basically because I was feeling brain-dead by the time I got home (spending hours sitting on a tractor in the sun will do that to you), was that in the middle of the afternoon, the tractor just ... died on me. Half a tank of diesel, and it just quit.

I left GentFarm a note, describing the 'symptoms' and went over to a friend's house. He and I got to talking about meditation, and he taught me a few simple techniques, which I have already found helpful. I've always been interested in meditation, but haven't been willing (or, most of the time, able) to shell out $$$ to get someone to teach me. So I was glad that my friend volunteered the info. He also showed me some Tai Chi body relaxation moves, which have also already proved beneficial.

Anyway, there's still several hours of 'hogging' to do, but that must wait for the tractor to be healed.

Don't forget to comment on my post from Saturday, if you have not yet done so! The deadline is Wednesday noon (my time, EDT).

Change of Plans

Just a minor one.

After reading the first couple of comments on my previous post, I've decided that I will (attempt) to write a short story incorporating all the comments. If you haven't left one yet, please do so, either on that post or this one.

Any comments that come in before ... oh, let's say Wednesday, noon EDT, I'll try my best to include.

This could be fun.

Idea For A Blog Post For Next Saturday

I'm trying to get my writing juices (fiction, not blog posts) flowing again, so I'd like to try a little experiment.

Please, if you would, leave a comment describing an instant. Something like:

Bill turned to Jerry and said, "Where did that armadillo come from?"

and whichever one strikes a chord in me, I'll write either a short short or a "scene" around that moment - to be posted next Saturday.

Thanks!

UPDATED (17:00 SUN): Haloscan seems to not be working. Shocking, I know. Please try back later or send me an email - phydeauxspeaksATgmailDOTcom.

Bush-Hogging

I rode this all day. Well, not exactly that, but one just like it, except kinda beat up with a bush-hog (big ass mowing deck) on the back.





I did the same yesterday, over at this house,




My brain is tired from being out in the sun all day.


Oh.

I was mowing a 12 acre meadow, in case anyone wonders why I was riding a tractor for two days.

Bet you thought, by the title, that this post would be about something else, din't ya?

Thursday Python Random Monty

And now for something completely different - since I'm still having trouble getting YouTube videos to play....

Tell me in comments (and link if you want to) what is your favorite sketch by Python?

Myself, I have a hard time picking favorites of anything, but I would say that "The Ministry of Silly Walks" is right up there. It's one of the first bits of Python that I remember seeing (on public television waaay back), and it hooked me forever.

Pheaux Phyre Phorum: The No Idea What to Call It Edition

Hey, All!

It's been raining here all day, gently at times and by the bucketfull at times.

Which of course means, my internet connection is spotty. So who knows if I'll be around tonight.

THIS DOES NOT MEAN THAT YOU ALL CAN'T HAVE A CONVERSATION WITHOUT ME! Please, feel free to hang out and chat to your hearts' content - or not, as you wish. At the very worst, I'll read it later.

So, what's on your mind?

A Contest!

Finish this sentence with your best alliterative phrase:


"John McCain is..."

My response is: "... a putrescent pandering pile of prairie dog pellets."

Winner receives ... something.

Memorial Day 2008

A heartfelt thank you to all who have served this country - with especial homage to those who gave their lives so that we could live free.

We continue to hope that their sacrifice has not been in vain.

Don't Panic!

And don't forget your towel!!!

500

According to my dashboard, this is my 500th post.

Yay me.

Sunset

On Mars. How cool is that?



(photo from Discovery News)

Cathartic Photography

My Siamese Cousin, The Cunning Runt, has posted the

Best.

Picture.

Evah!!!!

Thank you, Cuz.

Under The Wire

My power has been out for more than two hours for the third time in a week. It just came back on a few minutes ago.

When, exactly, did the US become a Third World nation?

Well, at least the power company stockholders are reaping record profits. So at least they can afford to buy generators to get them through the power outages, which helps their buddies in the oil industry, cause generators run on petroleum products.

See? A win - win situation!

Vote McCain!!

/snark

Thursday Python Randomity

This week's installment comes to you courtesy of Christina, as I still haven't figured out what the deal is with my computer and YouTube. It was suggested that there was a problem with my Flash player, but a) I have the latest version and b) every other Flash app works fine.

Also, I never really noticed until I couldn't watch them, but there are YouTube videos freaking everywhere!

Enjoy!

Pheaux Phyre Phorum: The I'm Pre-Posting This Because My Power and InterWebs Connection Are Both Iffy Today Edition

Whew. The power was out for three hours this morning, and the connection was out for an hour a little while later.

I may have to comment via pigeon or smoke signal, but y'all have at it!

For Dusty

Because, no, I'm not mad at you. :)

Scenes of Teh Lair Woods, Teh Mountainz, NC.

Rhododendron! Covered with new growth.

Woods.

More woods.

Blackberry in full bloom.

Yeah, it's gonna be a good year for blackberries.

And don't worry, Dusty, I'll keep posting more pics.

I'm a Minion! w00t!!

For an explanation (of sorts), see this post at Shakesville.

The Splotchy Virus Strikes Again

Brotha pidomon has tagged me!!

Here's the deal:

Here's what I would like to do. I want to create a story that branches out in a variety of different, unexpected ways. I don't know how realistic it is, but that's what I'm aiming for. Hopefully, at least one thread of the story can make a decent number of hops before it dies out.

If you are one of the carriers of this story virus (i.e. you have been tagged and choose to contribute to it), you will have one responsibility, in addition to contributing your own piece of the story: you will have to tag at least one person that continues your story thread. So, say you tag five people. If four people decide to not participate, it's okay, as long as the fifth one does. And if all five participate, well that's five interesting threads the story spins off into.

Not a requirement, but something your readers would appreciate: to help people trace your own particular thread of the narrative, it will be helpful if you include links to the chapters preceding yours. -Splotchy




I had been shuffling around the house for a few hours and already felt tired. The doorbell rang. I opened the front door and saw a figure striding away from the house, quickly and purposefully. I looked down and saw a bulky envelope. I picked it up. The handwriting was smudged and cramped, and I could only make out a few words. (Splotchy)

Despite the throbbing pain in my knees and the dull ache in my lower back, I bent down slowly and picked up the envelope...

Oh no. It did not say this, did it?

Oh yes, it did. It did.

The handwriting was familiar in a way that inspired a cold sweat and a bout of nausea. It was the penmanship of my former husband. You know - the one that was presumed dead.

He disappeared in a suspicious blogging related accident a number of years ago and was never heard from again. I was devastated. I had hated the blog, loathed the thing. What began as a hobby that took but a few minutes a day had morphed into an addiction, the proportions of which could not be measured. It was pure evil.

The blog turned into a cruel and demanding mistress and her siren song was more than I could compete with. One day he left for an evening event, never to return again.

All fingers pointed to one blogger, but I could never get the charges to stick. That one is slick- slick, slick, slick. He can talk a good game and write like nobody's business. But there is something about him, it just is not right.

So my husband was gone, that other one kept blogging and I had to rebuild my life, which I did.

So I finally had the bastard declared dead.(FranIam)

I took the envelope inside and got out a magnifying glass. I studied the scribblings on the front and made out the words “This is for you. You KNOW why” just above the undead bastard’s name. What the hell?

What could it be? What did he mean, I “KNOW” why? What did I do? I had never been anything but faithful to him and his "interests." I followed his stupid blog as it meandered through the vapid expanses of his small mind, trying my best to be polite when he talked about some comment he’d gotten on a particular post, or a funny link he’d dropped into a post.

Just thinking about it made my stomach hurt.

Despite a fleeting fear that there might be anthrax powder in the envelope, I opened it and pulled out the contents. (dguzman)

A noodle, a meatball and one of the six legs of a squid? (Squid have six legs, not eight, right? Unsure I rushed to my computer to ask The Lord Google. OMG, I was wrong! Squid do have eight legs. And two tentacles. Like cuttlefish. I digress. Damn you Google!)

What was he working on when he had that blogging accident? I thought back to the nights of feverish typing. The nights the keyboard fairly reeked of despair, flopsweat and ricola. He would babble "vision quest" "noodly appendage" "the alpha and the semolina" "green sticky spawn of the stars". This last I just attributed to far too much interest in the pussy photos of Britney Spears.

In shaky handwriting was the couplet:

That is not dead which can eternal lie.
And with strange æons even death may die

I felt that I was beginning to understand. He had been killed in an epic battle of Good versus Not-So-Good or even "meh!" (Jess Wundrun)


Shakily, I set the envelope down and wiped my hands on my jeans. I got up immediately and headed for the fridge, from which I pulled a recently-opened carton of the cheapest wine I was able to find last time I went shopping, raised it over my head, tilted my head back, twisted the cap, and greedily gulped down about two liters of forgetfulness.

It didn’t work. Or maybe it did, because when I woke up that evening in a puddle of cheap wine and bitterness, I couldn’t remember how I got there or how I had gotten so desperate in life to be drinking wine from a cardboard box.

Oh yeah, him.

It was dark outside, so nobody noticed when I stumbled into the back yard and peed against a tree.

What? Holy shit! I must have been drinking cheap wine for more than just tonight! I’d completely forgotten I was actually male!

I raced back into the house and found a utility bill amongst the pile of unopened mail on the kitchen counter. Then, I extricated my wallet from a jacket pocket, pulled out my driver’s license and compared the two address. They didn’t match. They weren’t even from the same state! What the…. Who the….

And then it dawned on me. I’d spent so much time recently reading other people’s blogs, I had somehow managed to take on the identity of a female blogger. Cripes. What have I done!?!?!

I looked again at the address on the utility bill. The name read “Michelle Malkin”. And then I looked on the back of the envelope that had been left on the front porch. Rubber-stamped were the words, “From the office of the Democratic National Convention”. Time seemed to suspend itself while I headed back to the fridge, looking for another box of cheap wine. (Commander Other)

Because all I could find in the fridge at this point was a moldy orange and a styrofoam container of questionable leftovers, I decided it might be a good time for me to get the hell out of there. This "Michelle Malkin" might be behind my current identity crisis. I was vaguely starting to realize that I must have been hypnotized. But, why? What in the world would Michelle Malkin want from me? Some visceral image of a diaper and an airport bathroom was starting to come into focus, the discomfort of which made me happy to distract myself with the prospect of... escape?

I had keys in my pocket to a car in the garage that I didn't recognize and I got in the car and drove instinctually toward what appeared to be a down town area. I decided I had to get myself to a hotel room and a location with internet access to find out who this Michelle Malkin was and how the hell I ended up in Dallas, of all places. (Freida Bee)

Instead of a hotel I cut through the fence at Six Flags and slept for the night in the log plume ride. Wet but comfortable. I-30 was a mere moment away and I could change direction and go to Ft. Worth instead and eat BBQ'd cow until the cows came home.

Once in Ft Worth I met up with a Kay Baily Hutchinson outside the the Colonial Golf Course. Boxes of wine were everywhere

She on one side of the fence and me on the other all she would say is "All will be revealed" and then shanked a 3 iron into the rough.

Confused I got back into the car and drove. My destination unknown. (pidomon)

I drove for several hours, taking random turns, hoping that I could shake the Republican tail that KBH sent after me. I knew that if they caught me, I would be in a gulag faster than I could say, "Help, help! I'm being repressed!!" Finally, the fleet of Hummers all fell by the wayside, out of gas. I smiled, and thanked whomever it was that had bought the Prius I was driving.

Then I aimed myself southward, and headed towards Austin, since I knew that the blogger konagod lived there. I hoped he and txrad would hide me for a couple of days while I tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

Once I reached Austin, I pulled into the parking lot of a Panera Bread restaurant, and used their wifi to log on to the InterWebs and buzz kona. "Get your fucking ass over here," he said, and sent me directions to the kona ranch. I pulled in to their driveway just as the last rays of sunlight faded into dark.


I tag kona, Portly Dyke, and Space Cowboy.

A Story For a Sunday

Over at Little Bang Theory, my Siamese Cousin has posted (his inimitable version of) Friday Kitteh Blogging, which reminded me of something that happened years ago.

Back when I was in the Boone, NC area, I lived for several years in a small farmhouse out in the western hinterlands. One Sunday in late summer, as I was watching a football game on the idiot box, I heard a clomping coming from outside. I walked over to the window to look out, and at first I thought the pot was exceptionally good, as I saw a half a dozen llamas charging up the road past my house. "Now, that's something you don't see everyday," I said to myself (luckily, my self didn't answer). They were really there, though, and then it got even weirder.

The llamas were being herded by a Jaguar. No, not the big cat - the car. Turns out, one of my neighbors up the road had bought the llamas from another nearby farm (there were several llama farms in the area) and, since it was only a couple miles from their old home to their new one, he decided to to have a "llama drive".

Oh, how I wished I had a camera that afternoon!

The Real John McCain

The latest from Brave New Films:



Please pass this along to everyone.

Geekified!

78% Geek

(h/t to SAP)

Appeasement?

By now you've all seen or read about The Current Occupant's speech before the Israeli Parliament yesterday, wherein he accused (unnamed) Democrats of being like the Nazi appeasers leading up to WWII - because they've expressed a willingness to talk to our 'enemies'.

You also know that (as usual) Georgie's full of shit.

But do you know that G Dub is a hypocritical lying sack of shit? His grandpappy made millions of dollars off the Nazi war machine?

From the Guardian (UK):

George Bush's grandfather, the late US senator Prescott Bush, was a director and shareholder of companies that profited from their involvement with the financial backers of Nazi Germany.

Read the rest here.

Thursday Random Python(ish)

As you may recall, I am unable to watch YouTube videos /curses vehemently/. But that's not gonna stop me! Oh, no! After much cajoling and begging, I got Jen to find me something post-worthy. I think you'll all be pleased.

And now for something completely different:



And a bonus, non-Python video....

2008 Dem Ticket?

I know this video is all over the place, but it was sooo nice to hear John Edwards speaking again, I just have to post it:



(thanks to Dusty for the video)

Pheaux Phyre Phorum: The Trojan War Edition

Hello, everybody!

I'm still having trouble with this statue of a horse that's taken up residence in my computer, but the Phyre must go on!!!

Feel free to commiserate with me.

What else is happening out there in InterWebs Land?

Poll Results for "Embiggen" Question

Always 4 (16%)
Sometimes 18 (78%)
Never 0 (0%)
Didn't know I could 1 (4%)
Why the hell would I want to do that? 1 (4%)


Thanks for the input, my phriends. I've always wondered if people looked at the photos in a more than cursory manner, and now I know.

What Did I Do Today?

Not a whole helluva lot. The winds blew hard all night long, and woke me several times through the night, as the Secret Lair (aka '73 Winnebago) shook.

And then about noon, the power went out. It came back on about a half hour ago.

I missed you all today. A lot. I am addicted to my friends and to the internet.

It was getting dark (and a bit chilly), and my neighbor told me the power company said the power wouldn't be back on until 1PM tomorrow, so I decided that I should build a fire in my firepit.

A real one, not a pheaux phyre.








All in all, not a bad day - especially compared to the folks in China and the midwest - but my thoughts were very different from the last time I was without power (and internet).

My neighbor needs a generator, so I won't be without Internet again. ;)

Mother's Day Photos

My Mom, before she was a mom (1945 or 46, I can't remember - hey, I wasn't there!):


And on my parents' 60th anniversary:



Happy Mother's Day, Mom!!

(she doesn't read this blog, but I will be calling her later on this afternoon )