A Public Service Announcement

Yes, they made kids from my generation do this shit. No wonder I'm so screwed-up. Fearing instantaneous incineration on a daily basis works wonders during your childhood developmental years.

Possible career path.

I'm having a late-middle-early-late-life crisis. Maybe a new career is the solution.

Girls just gotta be girls

My favorite quote.

One too many sake rast night

Ramp berong in Horiday Inn, not on head.

Ninja Parade Slips Through Town Unnoticed Once Again

So THAT's how you do that!

It's worth the wait to get to the Finnish-disco-spaghetti-western-music and his "duck-strut" at the 3:29 mark.

black hole

noun
Definition:
1. business near my home called the "Homemade Ice Cream and Pie Kitchen" that exerts such a strong gravitational pull that I cannot escape from it. My money seems to disappear into it and is never seen again.

Let's see Patrick Swayze top this.

The Minnow Would Be Lost.

It started out as a simple camping trip. Just my buddy and I. The forecast was for rain, possibly severe, but hey, we took a LOT of beer to compensate.

We were having a GREAT time. Fishing. Hiking. Mushroom hunting. Cool Nature stuff. Then the clouds rolled in and the beer rolled out.

As the song goes, "The weather started getting rough, the tiny shipped was tossed, if not for the courage of the fearless crew, the Minnow would be lost. The Minnow would be lost." In our case, courage came in the form of Budweiser and sheer stupidity. Even when Mr. Ranger, Sir came by and said they were packing it up, there was severe weather headed this way, it was suggested we leave, but we had paid to pitch our two tents, we could stay if we wanted. We stayed. They left. Everyone left. The entire park. Except us. They were smart. We were stupid and inebriated.

The last thing I remember before going into my tent was thinking, "DAMN, I didn't know trees that big could bend over that far!" And then I don't remember anything else because I passed out with my headphones on listening to It's A Beautiful Day ... "White Bird in a golden cage, on a Winter's Day, in the raiiiinnnnnn...."

God saw to it that we awoke the next morning.

The park was a MESS. Downed trees, branches, leaves and our wet, crusty butts.

We drove to a local town for breakfast ... a pleasant little town. The entire town goes to the diner for breakfast—that's how small the town is. Fortunately, there were two seats available for us. We were really scruffy. Combat gear. Wet. Smelled like lake water. We fit right in. Until we told the waitress that we'd camped out at the park during the storm. She said, "Whut?"

She then told another person, who told another person who telled another person, who ... you know how it goes... pretty soon, we were diner legends. "HEY, Y'ALL, THEM'S THE BOYS that camped out in THAT STORM last night!" Actually what they were probably saying was THOSE are the IDIOTS, but it all boils down to a choice of words.

After finishing our country ham and grits we left town and on the way home noticed that things weren't quite right. That house by the road wasn't there when we came by on Friday ... it was on that hill over there. And that roof by the road up there, uh, there's no barn under it. Ooops.

We turned on the radio.

While we had slept in drunken bliss, surrounded by 60 foot trees bent over ready to kill us, two tornadoes passed us by, one mile away, one to the north and one to the south. Twin demons on a seek and destroy mission. They had JUST missed their quarry.

Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. Thank you, again. I know You're keeping me here to do something, I just haven't figured out what it is yet.

This is what the last two weeks have felt like ...

I want one of these

*Not too many birds were harmed in the making of this film.

One of these days...

... the loving, mild-mannered Pug is going to get tired of our shit and is going to turn on us and slaughter the entire human race for dressing them up in stupid costumes.

Our personal pugs have never suffered the injustice of wearing costumes. They ate theirs.

HELLO! ... HELLO! ... HELLO!

After hours, when the receptionist has gone and the phone rings, there's a guy in my office that scurries around yelling officiously, "HELLO! ... HELLO! ... HELLO! ..." like the person calling is going to hear him.

But then again, we ALL have to be a little nuts to work there.

My research has led me to believe ...

I’ve just completed exhaustive scientific research
and have concluded that:

Sea monkeys are clearly not monkeys.

On the left is a sea monkey.
On the right is a wet monkey.

There is no comparison.