Interests:Conspiracy theory, general weirdness, poetry, writing, reading, pontificating, fishing, cooking, eating, reading, and beer. Expertise:Other people's business, child rearing, small business, damn the man, meat cutting and cooking, the old west, Tolkien, Hemingway, trivia (not sports), world history and current events, the Word of God, and whatever I happen to be talking about at the moment. Occupation:Retired
Regarding the post of November 26, er, oops. Wrong at an 8 on the Richter scale. The ground has liquified and buildings are sinking into it like it was delta gumbo mud, that prediction was so wrong. Boy, was I wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Yep. Did not get that one right. Embarassed a little over that one, yes sir.
In a dream I had, about some kids at school, one boy said, "You want us to learn to love those Mormons?" My response was, "What? You think you should learn to hate them?" Learning to hate is easy. It's what separates two of the main religions in the world, love or hate. I guess I'm just a sappy, hopeful, optimistic kind of guy, but I choose love.
Saddam Hussein must die. Now, better, when he was captured. The Ba'ath party, or rather the Tigrit members of the Ba'ath party, the old party hacks and henchman that ruled under Hussein are the force behind the escalating violence in that torn and bleeding country. It's the thing that they do, the way that they move: kidnapping, torture, murder, bodies dropped at random. All the best lessons of Stalin and Hitler are come to fruition in the Ba'athist party of Iraq, the repository of the gangsterism and thuggery of ages past. Ramsey Clark told the inverse of the truth when he warned what the result of Hussein's death would be. In fact, it will relieve the suffering and bleeding of that nation, when those who hope his return to power realize they will never share in his excesses again, and can only hope now to avoid the righteous punishment for their actions which could only have been avoided by returning their patron demon to power. Much of the violence on both sides has been perpetrated by Saddam's henchman, who learned at the foot of the master how to create chaos and terror, confusion and unrest. As their hope and justification lie entirely with him, his death will be the end of their career of mayhem, death, and misery. Death to Hussein! Saddam Hussein must die.
Brazil lies down, Gerrard, Lampard, and Carragher can't make their penalty shots. The center cannot hold. A terrible beauty is born. Since the future of Italian football is in doubt, referees bought, players involved in betting, games fixed, etc., the only recourse is to prove the whole world is involved in Italy's downfall, and the best way to prove that is to buy the World Cup. Argentina loses to Germany on penalties. Get real: this is a conspiracy of Biblical proportions. And as such, a herald of the End Times. Italy will win the Cup, an investigation will follow. The entire Ivory Coast team will pay with their lives for their part in the fix, and the fate of the Togo players is a forgone conclusion: they must die for the sin of being African, and available. The team from Ecuador: death sentences there also. But the real struggle will come when the world realizes that no one can touch the Italians because they have paid all their protection fees, and all the judges involved in the case have either recused themselves, or died accidentally with ropes around their necks on fire-escapes, or toasters falling in the shower. I love toast in the bathroom, don't you?
A new study shows that it is dangerous to let children mow the lawn,
and anyone under fifteen will soon be banned from this chore, if our
government ma has anything to do with it.
Ha, that's a good pun, government "ma", as in mother, sounds like
government "maw", as in mouth, ever hungry, never satisfied. Now
it wants to swallow up the productivity of our children. We
already can't spank the little bastards. Now we can't even tell
them to mow the dagblam grass if they can't keep their mouth shut.
I must admit I was an overly protective father, regardless of any lies
Ethan tells to the contrary. I mean, he didn't mow the grass
until he was fifteen, anyway, and then the stinkball got cancer just so
he wouldn't have to do it anymore. Funny, after he got well, he
thought mowing the grass wasn't all that bad a deal.
What have I done to the environment? I plead the fifth.
They'll have to prove those allegations on their own, thank you.
But I'm cleaning up the residue of 42 years of happy, dead end street,
nobody's business but mine kind of aquisitiveness that says, "I don't
need that now, but maybe it will come in handy later."
My dad could get anything given to him. I think it was because he
grew up an orphan. And he took everything that was offered to
him, since we had quite a bit of property and plenty of space to store
it.
Then the city came to town, and the dead end street turned into a main
thoroughfare, with a stoplight and everything. Ruined my property
and killed my business. But they did name the tiny little street
that used to be the main drag after my dad. Helm Drive:
what a vicious joke that was.
Oh, and supposedly the minimum fine is $200.
