Felony Z01

Anbody can tell me what a Z01 or Z52 is gets a popsicle.

12 years ago.....

Bad day at work. I'm pissed, I'm frustrated, I'm ready to rip somebodies head off. Phuk it! I'm goin' out for dinner. I step out into the cool evening and spot my Corvette waiting all alone in bumphuq as if the mercuries, fords, and plymouths are taking no chances. It's graceful, it's gorgeous, and it's brutal. The targa is stowed away letting it's curvaceous form look crouched, set, coiled. That's just my game in this frame of mind.

I open the long door and slide down into the white leather seat, grip the thick white leather wheel, depress the clutch, and guide the stick into neutral. Of course it's a stick; what am I a secretary? I take a deep breath as it rumbles to life. I ease down the parking lot since it is bad form to leave black stripes on company property, and so as to not cause someone to mention such a thing for I would surely execute them on the spot.

I almost escaped when this young fella comes running out of the building waving his arms. I drove by, but I saw his early twenties crestfallen giulless face in the mirror and felt bad about it so I stopped. He ran up, "Where you goin'?" I mumbled a resturant name and he got in.

I listened tolerantly as he told me it was his first ride in a Corvette. We exited the parking lot. I came to a stop sign at the intersection just outside the automatic gate, when he asked, "Is this thing supposed to be fast? I think my bother's trans am is faster...." That brought a smile to my face. Not the happy kind, no, the "Boy, you just fucked up!" kind.

I immediately executed a clean gate turn onto the side street in a cloud of tire smoke, focused on the street ahead and let 'er wail. I grabbed second gear while the tires were still spinning, the vette was still sideways, and pinned the accelerator to the floor figuring we were set for 85 mph and held on. I scanned for children as we rocketed down the lane and chose a spot on the curve near the end of the street to shift. The kid stopped breathing. He grabbed the dash. I made the mark and hit that magic button (Z52 hint)that jumps three gears and continued accelerating. As soon as I saw the kid go white at the sight of the intersection approaching at over 100mph I hit that magic button again and stomped the brakes until all four tires were trying the antilock system. Hauled 'er down about three feet past the stop sign. Not bad; if I do say so myself.

I'll never forget what the kid said as I selected first and eased through the intersection.

"Hey, man! Are you OK? Is something the matter?"
"No, Why?" I asked offhandedly.
"'Cause I'd like to have kids before I die!"

I see that fella around sometimes. He thinks I'm crazy. I can't imagine why.

ARRGH!

Our New Maritime Address

We have been trying out area lakes for their suitability for sailing this summer. I have sailed Cave Run , Cumberland, and this weekend Green River Lake. Happily the closest, most pictureque, and least utilized of the three has the best wind, so barring a trip to Kentucky Lake or Lake Barkley we will be spending boat time at Green River Lake.


Here are my girls hamming it up after we anchored the boat off a nice pea-gravel shore conveniently located at the campground where our trusty motorhome awaited.

It's a pirate's life for me. Arrgh!

Pirate Flag Spotted by Bill

Is it just me or does that look like a reticle alignment aid to anyone else?

ARRGH!

For the record:

Nate,



This is a cutlass NOT a scimitar.

ARRGH!

Now THAT'S Sailin'!

For those who know: Note the Main is reefed and there is still no hull touching water. She's completely on plane!

A sailing hydrofoil. Whooda thunk?!

ARRGH! and Double ARRGH!

Just so you don't think the assheads haven't been tryin'....

There is a sailing site I check into often that deals primarily with racing, but everything else gets thrown in, too. It's a hoot and the folks there are at least as odd as the 'C-triad'.

This is from the forum there concerning conversations overheard on the marine radio (That'll be VHF fer ye landlubbers, ARRRGH!) by a sailor who shall remain anonymous:

This was a few years ago, just after 911. A Canadian warship burst in calling for a ship to identify itself. The Canadian crewperson, a young woman , proceeded with a litany of questions for the ship which the radio person answered in strange, almost too perfect, English, beginning each transmission with a nervous ?yes yes??

The the ship was a 600 ton oil-tanker due into New York in two days, registry port of Kingston, Jamaica. After the questions, the Canadian warship signaled its intention to board the vessel and asked the tanker to slow to 8 knots. No answer and dead air for a couple of minutes. The young woman on the Candian warship again announced its intention to board and requested the ship slow to 8 knots, through a rope ladder over the starboard side, have papers ready, and have all crew identification ready. The tanker finally replied and the man with the automated English voice said that the ship would not slow down and would not comly. He claimed they had to make their June 20 delivery date in New York and since they had boarded recently, they didn't need to be boarded again. Silence.

Once again the young female navy voice requested that the oil tanker slow to 8 knots and again was met with silence. After a couple more times, the automated voice from the tanker asked what authority the Canadian warship had to board? The warship responded citing a US Canadian Treaty, this time with a much sterner more mature female voice. After another request was met with silence, the stern female declared that if the tanker did not comply, the warship would be forced to file 50 mm warning shots across its bow, but hoped it would not come to that. More silence.

This time the captain of the warship made the request. This time, another, more frantic voice with a noticeable accent answered from the tanker stating that the ship would not comply. After a lot of back and forth, the warship captain started a 2 minute countdown that ended in 10-9-8-7....3-2-1 fire!. Silence.

This time the stern woman's voice made the boarding request and again was met with silence. This time she indicated that the warship would fire 500 yards across the bow. "Clear your decks of all personnel," she said. This time, as the countdown progressed, the mic was left keyed and we could plainly hear the sounds of guns over the radio.

The tanker quickly broke radio silence. They yelled that they were on the phone with their agent in London and that they would lodge a complaint with the International Shipping Organization. They also told the warship to shoot all they wanted, as they were videotaping this for CNN.

The warship responded that it would start firing over top of the tanker if it didn't slow to 8 knots and prepare to be boarded. "Clear your personnel from your top decks." This prompted a similar response from the tanker who now claimed that they had been boarded four times in the last three days and they would not slow down.

As the warship started its countdown, the tanker quickly interrupted and claimed it was slowing to 8 knots, not because it was about to comply, but because it was having "engineering problems." At this point, however, the transmission was starting to fade and get garbled with static and within minutes we lost the transmission.

This long-winded account comes from my log at the time.

Ya' just don't know what kinda shit these sumbitches are up to everyday. We're just mushrooms. They keep us in the dark and feed us shit all day. But every now and then a little light gets through....

It's stealin', I know....

but Nate brought up mass transit and I have always thought mass transit was a Bad Idea. Unless you are cattle on the way to the slaughter house destined for death anyway. I know y'all know the old exercise where you identify a solution to a problem by lookin' at it from the perspective of "How would I make this happen if that was my goal?"; so How would you make folks inviting targets for raghead assheads?

Hmmm.
1) Group them altogether in a small space so the least amount of munitions would result in the greatest destruction per unit of munition and personel.

2) Put this same group on a predetermined fixed schedule.

3) Advertise said shedule months in advance so one would have plenty of time to plan very specifically and in detail.

4) Restrict the targets movement within the the small space and ability to independently repulse attack.

5) Encourage folks to habitually follow the instructions of those representing themselves as authority figures.

6) Inhibit the ability of those supposedly charged with the safety of the cattle from removing or prohibiting the presence of ragheads in their 20's and 30's.

This list could go on a long time, but you get the picture. Just for fun think about how dumb it is to put yourself this much under the control of an entity that obviously works counterproductive to you own safety, survival, and freedom.
-

In Context:

"'Is it so nice as all that?' asked the Mole shyly, as though he was
quite prepared to believe it as he leant back in his seat and
surveyed the cushions, the oars, the rowlocks, and all the
fascinating fittings, and felt the boat sway lightly under him.
'Nice? It's the only thing ,' said the Water Rat solemnly, as he
leant forward for his stroke. 'Believe me, my young friend, there is
nothing--absolutely nothing--half so much doing as messing about in
boats. Simply messing,' he went on dreamily: 'messing--about--in
boats; messing-----'
'Look ahead, Rat!' cied the Mole suddenly.
It was too late. The boat struck the bank full tilt. The
dreamer, the joyous oarsman, lay on his back at the bottom of the
boat with his heels in the air.
'---about in boats---or with boats,' the Rat went on composedly,
picking himself up with a pleasant laugh. 'In or out of 'em, it
doesn't matter. Nothing seems really to matter, that's the charm of
it. Whether you get away, or whether you don't; whether you arrive
at your destination or whether you reach somewhere else, or whether
you never get anywhere at all, you're always busy, and you never do
anything in particular; and when you've done it there's always
something else to do, and you can do it if you'd like, but you'd much
better not'..."

The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame

Who said this?

"There is nothing half so much worth doing as mucking about
in boats. In them or out of them, it doesn't much matter"

What's your name?

I'm sittin' in my lawnchair readin' the Stephen Hunter paperback I didn't realize was out there when I look up to see a three year old pixie. Wouldn't make a popcorn fart and slim and small as nothin - big green eyes and dishwater hair in stubby curly pigtails. Gotta be an elf in the woodpile.....

-"Hi! What's your name?", she doesn't really care, she's just getting the conversation started.

+"Jim. What's your name?", I do care. I've never met elfinkind before.

-"Tiffany! Is your mommy awake?", she means my wife. This get's me outa the chair and grinnin'!

+"uh-huh. I'll get her for ya', c'mon."

I stick my head in the door of the motorhome, "Oh Mom, someone here to see you!"

What fun. This little girl carried on like that all of last week while we were on vacation.

It's the 'little' things that bring joy to life.

Rental

OK I got the hint, Nate.

This latest Supreme Court decision is much written about. I don't know why everyone is surprised; we have been renting our real and personal property from the government for many years. Given the premise the government owns the property this latest decision makes perfect sense. Shouldn't a landlord be allowed to boot his tenants to upgrade his facilities?

Think about it. Anything someone else can legally take from you is not owned by you. Failure to pay property taxes results in government seizure of your home/ farm/ business facility therefore the govenment actually owns them. But what is the high price you paid for your home if not a purchase? Near as I can tell all you are purchasing is the right to rent the place.

I truly don't see how anymore can be made of property rights these days without serious extensive self delusion.

It's just a matter of details..

Ever notice on a broadcast press conference that as you will be reacting with horror to some government action the reporters in the room are asking nitpicking policy questions? Witness: the post below. One of the videos carries the audio of a press conference along with the evidence of torture of the SPEEDER. At no time does a reporter question the action of the officer as inhumane, or the wisdom of a government using electroshock torture on random victims. All the questions are related to policy. Why is that?

Here's what I think: The commie rat bastards in the press think whtever action is taken it is at its core justified because it was, after all, the government that took it. They will always focus on a policy detail or bureaucrat rather than the problem as a whole.

No one will stand up at say, "Uh, didn't we prosecute nazis for this?"

Ever wondered what it is like inside a brownshirt mind?

This is a video of a routine traffic stop. A SPEEDER!

As reported in the Palm Beach Post, the woman was stopped for speeding and then arrested for having a suspended license. In the process the officer tazered her twice, because she was talking on the cellphone.

The thread linked HERE

has posts by an "altcop". Eye opening stuff. We are no more than cattle to these gun toting bureaucrats who view lack of immediate unquestioning compliance with their authority as punishable by roadside electroshock torture.

Such a nice place we live in.

Sail Day

SailDay
Originally uploaded by The Third Way.

Whew! I am beat! And I'm as beet red as a greek boy can get, too. Note to self: Sunscreen washes off in the water.

Just thought I would quickly post on the new (to me) sailboat and Jeep Diesel Liberty combo.

First the Jeep pulls stronger than my suburban. I have towed SlowRide with both and the Jeep accelerates better and pulls hills LOTS better. Go figure. However, the Jeep just doesn't have a long enough wheelbase for this big a boat. Past 60MPH the boat starts swaying. NOT good. So I drive 56MPH to the lake and back with no drama.

Launching was a bitch. Not because of any problem with floating the boat, starting the motor or pulling up and down the ramp though. The boat stuck to the trailer.

I backed down the ramp until the water was up to my rear axle. I figure that'll do. Can't get the boat off. Joe "the Drill" is in the boat with the motor runnin' trying to back it off when I notice the trailer drifting to the side.

"Joe, the trailer's floatin'.", says I. "All the straps are off, I don't know why it would.", says he.

So, I pushed the trailer back onto the ramp, pulled forward (make diesel sounds now) and gave the trailer a once over. That's when we figured out the boat was actually STUCK to the trailer. It seems the paint Joe "the drill" used on the bottom made the hull adhere to the boards on the trailer.

I backed it down and stood on the trailer fender bouncing. Pop! other side, Pop!

Free at last, I put the Jeep in a parking spot and we motored to the middle of the lake to begin sailing.

More to come.

Goodnight!

Home Port

CAM_0220
Originally uploaded by The Third Way.

There's my girls hamming it up as usual while I get the boat ready to splash for the first time in my posession. I'm headed out this morning so wish me luck; I'm gettin' splashed for the first time, too. Also, will be towing with the deisel Liberty - that should be interesting, too.
I can hear the turbo spooling up now..... Gotta go!

A Buccaneer on the Loose

showsails2
Originally uploaded by The Third Way.

This is not my boat, but it is the same make and model. Ya' gotta give he guy credit for successfully compensating for a yellow hull.

I always wanted to be a pirate....

Mission Accomplished

I purchased the MacGregor 25 today. I did not steal it, but nearly so. The owner, Joe "The Drill", let it go for much less than it is worth and I acknowledged that before, during, and after the negotiation, but I still think we are both happy with the deal. I have heard it said that the other fella should be mad when the deal is done. I generally settle for melancholy. He was; he's gonna miss his boat. Interesting nickname he has. I didn't ask - I didn't want to know.

If the weather and the details go well she should be in the water Saturday at Cave Run lake. Expect pictures and posts.

Gregg and Res: There will be no bass fishing off my boat. Not because it is unseemly, but because I can't catch a fish without a jug, a treble hook, and a hotdog. So, I ain't havin' no one showin' off on my boat.

Don't forget, Jimmy Buffet is from Alabama.

Sailboat Pending

Making an offer on a MacGregor 25 today. See examples here. Will have cash in hand so Wish Me Luck!

Res-mail

kimber
Originally uploaded by The Third Way.

Res got a new .45 and was kind enough to send this in depth review. Please, don't drool on my blog. Here is this season's "must have" for the well dressed man-about-town

I just joined the local IDPA league so I could spend lots of time breaking
it in. We shot for about two hours tonight. I went through about 200
rounds. One failure to feed. I suspect it was my fault, I was rushing for
time and changed positions, so I may have limp wrist'd it. Bad thing is
with a 23lb spring when this baby jams it jams hard. I should have racked
it harder to clear it. I'll remember that if there is a next time. No
other problems at all, other than I will need some time to get used to a
shorter barrel. The sight picture is slightly different and I was trying to
hit high on the steal targets because some of them were falling a little
hard.

As a carry gun this has it all! Its 1/4in shorter than anybody else's
commander style gun, the barrel is 4in. It is a bull style barrel that
doesn't require a bushing. IT IS TIGHT! Fit and finish is near perfect.
The gun is deburred and rounded in the shop before they finish it. Front
strap checkering is 30 lpi and the underside of the trigger guard is
checkered too. Using an OWB holster tonight, the gun jumped to my hand and
came up in a perfect solid grip every time.

Control ability is great, the gun may be the lightest in its class but its'
far from unmanageable. The biggest challenge for me is learning the point
of aim on it and getting the sight picture right. I'm so used to a 5in gun
that it seems "wrong" but I think in a week or two' I'll be completely over
that.

Have you seen these:

http://www.gunnersalley.com/product/COMPTACCTAC

I'm thinking of doing something like this for my new carry holster. Its
great to carry and I think I'm going to be real pleased with it.<

br />
Res

Sailing

I bought a canoe. Oh, before I forget, Congrats on the new .45, Res!
What was I saying? I bought a canoe. $100.00! It's old and aluminum and sorta heavy, but I figure I can paddle the girls around some. I was talkin' to an old canoe hand about it the other day, and he got to tellin' me how prone they are to swamping. Seems a decent sized boat will flat fill one up. Took all the fun out of it. I don't want to beretrieving a canoe off the bottom of a lake somewhere. Not my idea of vacation fun.

So, I'm hunting up a sailboat. Nothing too big - 19 to 26 feet, retractable keel, outboard, trailer. A daysailor/weekender to drag around behind the motorhome.

Advice and knowledge hereby solicited.

The Doctor has Infected My Home

Isabella Rossi Pic
Originally uploaded by The Third Way.

For those who don't know, "the Doctor" is Valentino Rossi, the fastest man alive. He is the reigning champion of Moto GP motorcycle racing. He's also a spindly, ubergeek who is at least as goofy lookin' as the class nerd you remember from shool days.

As can be seen in the drawing my youngest daughter has a crush on him. She tore out a magazine ad featuring him, took it to school and told her friends she was "in love". They told her he wasn't "cute".

Her reply, "No, but he's fast and he wins races."

I haven't figured out just what to do here...... I guess I don't have to beat him publicly unless he shows up on my doorstep, but past that I am at a loss.

The Phone Call

Nate: Heyman! Whatcha into?

JACIII: Not much, tillin' the garden.

Nate: Hey, um, somethin's wrong with my bike.

JACIII: What'd you do? (insert accusatory tone)

Nate: Nothin'! I didn't do anything, man. Um, it won't idle.

JACIII: It's outa gas.

Nate: No it's not! It's got plenty of gas!

JACIII: What's it doin'?

Nate: It runs, but it won't idle.

JACIII: You mean you can hold the throttle open and it will run, but when you let off it dies.

Nate: Yep.

JACIII: It's outa gas. The float bowls are emptying out.

Nate: NO IT'S NOT, DUDE. Listen, I just looked, there's all kinds of gas in the tank.

JACIII: OK, turn the idle adjustment screw up until it will stay running without you holding the throttle open and call me back and let me know how many RPM's it takes to keep it runnin'.

Nate: OK. (click)

INTERMISSION - Get popcorn, coke, Junior mints.....

JACIII: Yeah!

Nate: It's outa gas.

JACIII: Told ya'.

Nate: Fag.

JACIII: You good to go?

Nate: Yeah, got reserve. I'll make it to Joy's.

JACIII: Alright, Be careful. And don't pester Joy.



They will always be my little brothers.

Been quiet around here...

The weather is perkin' up and my afternoons have been spent at the forge. I will post pics of some of my handiwork soon. Expect no artistry, only the brutal persuasion of fire, anvil, 160lb of wild swingin' redneck, and a $130 hammer.

The Genius of John Browning

EGWFPS
Originally uploaded by The Third Way.

You can tell a fella is the real thing when lesser folks seek to "improve" upon his work and perhaps cure one perceived problem while exacerbating others. This happens because when a really smart and knowledgable guy designs something there is a lot of what I call "density of design", meaning that a lot of parts or design elements serve more functions than it would initially appear. I stumbled upon an example of this today on a 1911 forum.

See, the military decided the 1911 had a too stiff initial manual slide retraction. No doubt some soft handed general abraded himself while enduring qualification with the 1911. A design change was issued and this little part
got changed.

Note the blurry one in the foreground has a bevel on the top right while the rear one has a pretty sharp radius. This one little change to what is called the "Firing Pin Stop" can result in any number of malfunctions. Since this was implemeted folks have come up with all kinds of fixes for the resulting problems it caused; treating the symptons and not the disease.

That one dimension started a whole chain reaction of differences in the way the pistol functioned, from felt recoil, lock timing, slide to frame impact, feeding, to ejection reliability. I other words it didn't work anymore. Whole industries have been founded on solutions to problems this change caused.

Design Density.

The Return of the Pocket Watch

Seen any old movies lately? Folks checking on the train or somesuch by diggin' a two inch diameter clock out of the bib pocket of their overalls, flippin' the cover open, shading it from the sun and squinting at it. I found myself doing this very same thing the other day with my cellphone.

Yeah, I wear bibs sometimes. Did you know they have a special watch pocket on the outside of the bib pocket? The watch (cellphone) slides in sideways right to left. It is the perfect size for the newer compact flip phones, the antenna snags on the way out sometimes, but it is real handy. Theres even what appears to be a useless buttonhole that is for attaching a watchfob to keep you from droppin' your $300.00 phone onto the pavement.

You're not still wearin' a watch are ya'? Luddite, those things are going the way of dinosaur blogs (newspapers) and the network newscast.

Get hip. Get bibs.

Thompson 1911C Target

Thompson 1911C Target
Originally uploaded by The Third Way.

Here it is. The Evidence. That is a three inch target spot. That's @ 25 yards rested on a bench. Measure yourself - and remember, Gregg, those are 1/2 inch holes! I was unable to do any better than 3" on my hindlegs though.

Flickr

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

The Best Defense or "Why a .45?" Well, Grasshopper....

I have been a CCW holder and habitual user for about 7 years now. I started off with a Makarov in .380. I was poor but I found a 'custom' in hard-chrome with target sights. Walther PP size, ate anything, couldn't make it misfire; indestructable. I bought some Franchi ammo one time that was full of half loads and was pure junk. It cycled all but the one round that fell apart chambering. That's right the bullet fell out of the case. I liked the gun alot. Then I saw a show on TV where some nut was holding a girl hostage and shot her about 8 times with a .380. She was on her feet and attempting to evade him as he pumped lead into her. The scene lasted about 5 minutes and ended with her walking to the ambulance. About two weeks later I had a dream about a 'home invasion' and the same sort of thing happened in it. Shoot the bad guy - nothing happens. I traded the Mak the next week off for a Ruger Super Redhawk brass beltbuckle. I wear it to this day and get lots of compliments.

I upgraded to a KAHR Arms K40; all steel, heavy, tough, powerful, accurate, and compact. What a trigger! Butter smooth, but about a 1 1/2 inch pull. Not much use for shooting games and such. You can impress folks by ringing a 100 yard steel with your 4 inch compact semiauto, though! I still love this gun, and use it if small size is critical to a carry situation.

I never thought I would own a "plastic" gun, but I got to lookin' at the CZ100 one day at a local gun store and identified some interesting features that sparked my interest. I asked to see it and the clerk handed it over, offer to make a deal. I handed it back when I realized it was a puny 9mm. He was persistent though, and eventually asked for an offer. I low balled him with half the marked price to shut him up and damned if he didn't take it! What are ya' gonna do? I bought the gun. It shoots great, I carry it most often even though it is a full size duty weapon because it is so light you can forget you are wearing it. I just plan on having to make head shots.

In between the Makarov and the KAHR I bought a book called, "The Best Defense" by Robert A. Waters that is filled with stories of regular folks successfully defending themselves and their loved ones with a firearm. In this book is the tale of a woman who was stalked for fifteen years by a former coworker at a bank. She, her husband, and children even moved away to get away from the ass. No help from cops, of course, they are only there to clean up the mess; not prevent it or intervene. Eventually the guy goes off completely, makes a 'death list' and begins showing up on the doorstep of former coworkers and killing them, though one survived and was able to get police to warn the other former coworkers that he was on a rampage and was wearing a bulletproof vest. Now, the above stalked woman's husband had purchased a .45 and learned to use it. He prepared for the coming attack. The coward shows up on his doorstep pretending to need help. The husband got his family on the floor and when the psycho figured out his ploy didn't work he shot the lock off the door and came in shooting at the children on the floor. Dad rests the .45 on the refridgerator at puts a .45 slug on target. The cops picked the psycho up later, begging for help for real this time, whimpering on the ground from the trauma caused to him by one .45 round to his chest. Through a Kevlar Vest. The round didn't penetrate, it just hit so hard he wished it had. I knew I would eventually purchse a .45ACP 1911 the second I finished reading that tale.

My New 1911!

Oops! OUR new 1911!

Follow THIS to a review of the gun (Thompson Custom 1911 review is the first review listed in the "Reviews" links) - Note the 25yard accuracy data. I was able to duplicate these results today at the range. These numbers are usually reserved for $1500+ firearms. Thompson is owned by KAHR Arms, makers of the most reliable, accurate, and potent hideaway (CCW) guns available. I own a KAHR in .40S&W and have found it to be of amazing dependibility, accuracy, and quality, so I took a gamble and bought one of the first hundred 1911 Customs they have ever manufactured.

It's new and the chamber is a bit tight, so I had a couple of failures to eject. And the guide rod is shedding some kind of coating, but I can't bitch until at least 200 rounds have been fed through it. I'll call KAHR tomorrow and get a new guide rod shipped out and tell them how accurate their pistol is.

I showed my groups to the Mrs. and her reaction was, "I can't believe anyone would BUY a gun that wouldn't do that...". I explained to her that 2" at 25 yards was exceptional, the 1.5" groups I got today was amazing, and that we had no right to spend less than $700 on a 1911 and get that kind of result. We buy this company's guns because of this. They do not play when it comes to accuracy.


See me smilin' ?!

"I think this guy is a loser. " - Harry Reid

This is my favorite tack used by democrats. Harry is refering to GW here, of course, and to my knowledge he hasn't been beat at ANYTHING. This, I guess, makes him a loser in the eyes of his opponents. From whence does this shit come? They're either hypnotised or trying to hypnotise us through repitition is all I can figure. How else do you explain such obvious serial rejection of reality?

They have been on a steep downhill slide since Clinton was inaugurated and Newt began beatin' them about the head and shoulders, steadily losing any grip on power, yet they herald Bill Clinton as a savior. He presided over the most dramatic shift away from a party since FDR in the midst of no causal crisis either real or imagined. Now, they consider him a "winner", nay, an idol - worshipped by the denizens of the dinosaur blog and legacy media alike.

GW has whipped their asses at every turn, and done it in a manner which looks like a hard fought narrow victory starting with the governorship of Texas. That flies once, or maybe twice. Not every time. What these dolts are doing is staying at the table, betting, while a shark runs it on 'em over and over again, but just barely. That's what democrats call a "loser".

While this makes democrats fun to watch (I especially enjoy listening to NPR after whatever latest ass whoopin' has been visited upon the left! Whaaa! Whaaa! Big tears!) it makes it particularly frustrating when they are taken seriously about ANYTHING.

The corollary to the above is, "What's GW doing to those of us who would appear to be on the same side of the political spectrum?"

Bunn

I know. Who gets excited over a coffeemaker? First time for me I gotta tell ya'.

The ol' coffee pot went ta' shit and I told the wife I wanted on of them damn near instant coffee makers. Her mom has one and it makes the closest thing to percolated coffee I've had yet. The coffee tastes 'cooked' somehow.

And it's not just the coffee, 3 minutes for a pot of hot water. Think Earl Grey, hot chocolate w/ 'fluff'. MMMMMMMMMMMM

I put this household appliance in the same category as that KitchenAid mixer the wife stands back from, throws yummy things into and out pops pie makin's. Derby Pie anyone?

Incidently, here's the wife's variation if you want to celebrate the Derby proper:

1 cup sugar (pure cane)
1/4 cup flour
2 beaten eggs
1 stick melted butter (must be cooled)
1 cup pecan pieces
1 cup chocolate chips
1 tsp vanilla

Put into store bought frozen dough pie crust.

bake 1 hour at 325 F

Enjoy!

Happiness is a well equipped workshop.

What more does a man need? (Besides a Ducati 1000DS, of course.)


Happiness

I don't see a coffee pot or a "Liar's Bench" in the photo, but you can bet there was seating somewhere nearby. There is no way the community elders will let a man get away with too much concentrated continuous productive effort. At least not without the benefit of their unsolicited advise.

I live in the oldest community in the state of Kentucky. The General Store was taken out of serious service only about 10 years ago. It's still open, but is now a craft shop. (blech!) For such a small community there are a lot of businesses in place and business is done the in the old way. There is William Leonard's mechanic's shop (formerly the smithy his father owned and worked), Egbert's Gun Site across the street, Bill's Market at the top of the hill with groceries and fuel, and the 127 Foodcenter combined with the new hardware/lumber yard which together serve the former function of the General Store.

All of these places have a thing in common: A spot for folks to sit, drink a cup of coffee and pass the time. This is the wat things were done here in the 1700's and the way they are done here now. Can you tell I like the place?

Proof Positive

Soccer is for sissies. The captain of the UK (That's United Kingdom, lest some ethnocentric yankee think Kentuckians are engaging in such behavior) 'football' team is publicly giving out beauty tips.
Normally, were I to say a man was giving out beauty tips I would be refering to something like, "Hey man, if you cut your finger off you can glue it back on with Super Glue. Yeah, Works great! See?!" or, "My wife quit buying soap for the shower, too, so I just use whatever squirts outa one of them bottles that doesn't appear to be synthetic jism. Sure, same stuff for the hair and beard, too. Kinda smelly, though...."

This soccer star, though, uses moisturizing cream and enjoys manicures. His wife says he is very much a "new man" and "totally in touch with his feminine side. He loves having his face and nails done."

Bwhahahahaha!

I always thoguht soccer was for the the uncoordinated kids who couldn't play basebal, football, basketball or those without fathers who's mothers forced them into it because they couldn't bear to see little Richard compete (gasp! bad for self esteem). Turns out it's just a bunch of queeners exchanging beauty tips. Can't say I'm really surprised at that anymore than at the 'revalation' that the youngest of the Jackson Five is a pervert.

Doh!

I'm Gettin' Pissed.

Blogger is a pain in the ass to post a pic anyway, and then they gotta go and screww around with it all the time. Man! Here I've been surfin' the web and slobbering over the 1000DS Welldigger clued me onto and I can't corrupt anyone else by puttin' up a 'to die for' pic.

Gimme time. The weather has been nice in the afternoons and I just can't get to the keyboard. Hope y'all are neglecting the keyboards, too!

See ya'!

Duc Fever

I’ve got it; showing all the symptoms. I don’t know if I’ll be able to shake it before I buy one or not. It’s getting’ pretty bad; I’ve got an ST4 on my desktop, I search them out on ebay three times daily, I read the data on owner’s group and enthusiast sites….. I used to think they were ugly, I think they’re sex on wheels now.

Any constructive discouragement will be appreciated.



.

I had fun today.

I finished painting Big Red as you can see below. Man, am I ever pleased with the way she turned out.

I ran out of paint towards the end and jumped on The Mothership (Voyager XII) to acquire some more. Along the way I see and Hardley Sportster 883 waiting at an intersection. I pass by and see him pull out and gun it in my mirrors. No biggie; it's fun to ride in groups. Dude pulls alongside for awhile then guns it again. Now, I don't tolerate this sort of behavior well, but I was on 900lb saddlebagged interstate whale - the motorcycle equivalent of an 18 wheeler - so I just rode in back for awhile. The thing about these damn Hardleys is they sound like shit and the pussies who ride 'em want everybody to hear it. The one in front of me was no exception, sounded like a Briggs and Stratton with no muffler. So I dropped two gears and twisted the 'GO' handle. I saw him check six and then he twisted the 'All Sound and Fury but NoPower' handle. I ran him down surprisingly easily and proceeded to run off.

We came to a stoplight and chatted awhile, he thought it was a fluke. From the stoplight I let him get steady and situated onto the highway and began settling into a staggered formation behind him when I see his front wheel tryin' to come up as he goes for second gear. O.K. Twist, rundown, pass, run off. I gave him a headstart this time. WhooHoo! Go Voyager!

The above scenario repeated itself two more times. Dude looked upset the last time and sped off doin' a steady 90mph in a 55mph zone. I let him go. No reckless drivig tickets for me. Not on the Mothership!

The thing is BigRed, a ten year old bike, would do that to him so fast and hard he would feel the compression wave with out any real fuss or effort. Dude should peel the SPORTster sticker off that thing.

A wise man once told me he felt sorry for Hardley riders. He figured they didn't know any better since most of 'em had never ridden anything else...

I saw so many potbellies out on those things today I thought I was gonna be sick. Cattle. Each one has a 'custom' bike - just like everyone else's. Pitiful.

And This is How Red They Are!

.

Motorcycles are Red

So says she who thinks her husband looks hot in leather pants on a "hooker's fingernail red" sport-tourer. That means the blue/red/gold/purple flipflop paint I demo-ed for her is a no go. She went through her fingernail polish collection (quite extensive), picked out the appropriate red bottle and promptly jumped into her Jeep to find Big Red's new color scheme. Big Red/Blue/Gold/Purple just doesn't have the same ring to it now does it?
Over the last few months I had come home with several different red colours of paint but once I tried them next to the bike I was never satisfied. The wife goes out and with one shot finds the perfect colour.

The moral of the story?
Never send a man to do a woman's job.

Day 3 - Natchez

Breakfast at the motel in Jackson, They had a waffle maker fer Christ's sake!The pope's funeral is on the telly. How do you bury one guy in three boxes?

The trace dtours around Jackson, so we went the long way around. That is; the long wrong all the way around. But, hey, we're here to ride, so what the hell?

The sun is out in full force and we quickly find ourselves shedding gear. This is not a big problem on the Trace as it is a leisurely ride with no surprises save the local wildlife kamkazeein' ya' every so often. The list of which grows by a fox and two turkeys. The fox had it timed just right, but did a 'U' turn right at the edge of the pavement touching his nose to his tail in the maneuver. Shucks! I was already figurin' out how to get his hide back to the house to made a nifty fur something out of him.....

We tooled along at a stately 60 mph for the 90 miles to Natchez and headed straight for 'Natchez - Under the Hill". For those of you not in the know, Natchez Under the Hill is a group of taverns, shops, and cafe's on the waterfront where the dock used to be for the riverboats to ply their trade. Rainman and I dined at the same cafe' that Nate and I visited last yaer and I had the 'Shrimp, Chicken, Okra Gumbo'. Delicious. Rainman expressed his satisfaction at the dining experience, though I could tell he was lookin' around for something else to stick a fork into. The man has a bottomless stomach I tell ya'.

We took a stroll along the waterfront and I was dissapointed that the Mississippi Queen was not in port, instead one of those uglyassed gambling boats was there with an ant trail of retired suckers marching in and out. Ugh.

more to come.-

Bane's in a tight spot

Sorry this took so long, Difster.

Details here

Day 2 continued

Two guys on the road can be a little uncomfortable sometimes. There are times when you catch yourself; “WHAT the hell did I just say?!” For instance:

Rainman and I were at the cash register of the Mexican restaurant In Jackson Miss.after a hearty meal and a Corona when Rainman asks the lady, “Do you know of any motels around here?”
Now, look at this objectively. Two guys in motorcycle attire (we're stylin' I'm tellin' ya'! I'm decked out racerboy and Rainman looks...., well, like he rides a V(iagra) twin bike) are standing there and want to know where the motel is. I don’t know about you, but I get a mental picture of the Village People.

Of course when I brought this to Rainman’s attention he laughed himself silly. Ya’ see what I’m dealin’ with here? It gets worse.

We go to the Comfort Inn and the nice lady behind the desk starts tellin’ us about a customer she gets that actually puts his bike in the room with him and then she asks, “Are you two on the same motorcycle?” like one of us is ridin’ ‘bitch’! I just shook my head. Of course, the reason she wanted to know this was so she could express that she didn’t think both bikes would fit into one room. You don’t get service like that just anywhere.

Day 2

Up at the crack of dawn, haven’t slept so sound in awhile. We turn on the local news for the weather report. Scattered showers from here north with decreasing probability as you go South. Some jerk killed a girl and dumped her body on the Trace. Hmmmmmmmm. Of course, I’m carryin’. I checked the chamber for potential energy and good to go.

The morning was cool and we headed out in full gear, haulin’ ass when rain clouds blocked the sun and slowing to soak up those precious rays when they burned through the clouds melancholy hold on them. We played the bikes down the road. No hurry, no worries; free on the open road with the anticipation of discovery around the next bend.

We hoofed up to an overlook to get some blood flowing and forestall rider fatigue. There are quite a few nice overlooks on the Trace and from the terrain you wouldn’t expect them. Well worth the effort. Once again the Wild Turkey were out strutting, and we saw a few crane or heron, I don’t know which but they were white. There had been a big storm through Alabama and northern Mississippi and there was evidence of high water all around. It made a lot of the area swampish

Lunch was in a town off the Trace called Saltillo, at a local interest called “Little Charlie’s”. Little Charlie’s had a special on a double cheeseburger plate so Rainman and I took the plunge. Damn what a sandwich! There was easily 3/4lbs. of meat on the burger. I didn’t quite finish mine, but Rainman has a legendary appetite and soon put his away. Excellent meal. Greasy, tasty, with a BIG glass of sweet tea.
While we were eating some locals wandered in, checking out the bikes as they filed by. I took the opportunity to explain to Rainman the difference in appeal of a sportbike and the Mothership. See, on a sportbike, you’re pretty much a rockstar, an object of envy of men and the desire of women. (In case you don’t know, that’s a good thing.) The Mothership attracts a different crowd populated chiefly by old men with canes (they think it looks comfortable) and fat chicks (they think it won’t collapse under their asses), so we had a big time confirming my theory as the local liars hobbled in for their noon coffee.

We rode on to Jackson, Ms. without much of note except for a stop at the Pearl River where Nate and I had paused on our journey last year. It’s still a hell of a spot, Bro.

We ate Mexican in Jackson and tucked in for the night at a Comfort Inn. There’s a tale there, but it’ll have to wait.

#*%!@*&^%$ Audio Blogger is Crap!

I musta sent out 5 or 6 audio-blogs from the road. Nothing! Zip! Zilch! Nada! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

So, I guess I'll have to update y'all on the trip this way. It's so .... low tech.

Day 1:

Everyone backs out, except my esrstwhile riding buddy, Rainman (not his real name). Now, we call him rainman for a reason; if he's ridin' - it's rainin'. True to form, we buzzed into Nashville under a heavily pissin' cloud, but started the Trace with a mist in the air and Bar-B-Cutie in our bellies (it's good, but it's not Slick Pig or Moonlight). We saw scads of wild turkey (a good omen) and even a light brown jake; the result of domestic inbreeding. Well, we happened upon a Park Ranger who rides a BMW GS1150 in his other life and he advised us of the nearest town with a motel so we made for Lawrenceburg, TN in a blinding deluge of rain and pitch black night.
We rode about thirty miles to the Lawrenceburg exit off the Natchez Trace Parkway
Happened on a Best Western there and we left our bikes under the check in canopy and the nice lady at the desk gave us the room right beside 'em.
Throughout all this excitement and the joy of the open ride I should have been paying more attention to my riding buddy. We had geared up for the rain in Bowling Green, but ya' just don't much get wet on the Mothership anyway and I was feeling no pain (I'm lovin' my heated grips and the little wing thingies I made to keep the cold air and water away from my feet!), but Rainman has a pair of rainpants with a duct-tape patch on the knee, leaky boots, and these plastic mittens you'd have to see to believe. He got wet. Dog in the creek wet. Drowned rat wet, I'm tellin' ya', and temps were in the low 50's. Poor guy's teeth were chattering, he was wet from the neck down, much longer and I'm thinkin' hypothermia would have set in. Not sure it didn't get a start on him anyway. Hey!, he rides a cruiser; what can you expect? They're just not made for the open road, they're for pretending you're on the open road. However, Rainman always toughs it out and like he says, "That's what makes it an adventure." Truer words were never spoken.

More to come...

I Thought TV Was Already for Morons!

The baybboomers will never recover from the passing of TV as the primary medium of mass communication in this world. They grew up watching the rich neighbors TV 'set' through their picture window, and the wonder of it hasn't left them.

"Gollygeewhiz!, Ethel, ya' just push the button and there's Walter Kronkite right in our very own livin' room! It's a miracle! Get out the good china and pull up that extra chair to the dinette set!"

Attempts have been made to shore it up with web/TV amalgams before. Hopefully, when this one fails they will give it up and settle down to growing their asses and reruns of 60 Minutes and 20/20. Current events y'all!

"The Internet opened a floodgate for young people whose passions are finally being heard, but TV hasn't followed suit. Young adults have a powerful voice, but you can't hear that voice on television ... yet," said Gore

Algore announcing new network targeted at 18-34 yr olds. (Other than MTV)

Reproductive Air-Guitar

Ya’ ever see some guy lost in a fantasy of rock-stardom, left arm held out to his side, his right hand fanning his bellybutton as if it was on fire? He’s having a blast, volume cranked to the stop, head bobbing up and down, making intense funny faces akin to the Starwars Kid in Berserker Attack. This activity, viewed from where he is sitting, is enjoyable, aerobic, emotionally satisfying stress relief. And, Man! Doesn’t he look cool?!

Nope. He looks like the King of Losers asserting his dominion over the rest of the virgin horde. Now, I have given this a lot of thought due to the widely varying expressed opinions of those hereabouts on a very similar activity. Perhaps, there must be something I’m missing…. Nah!

Air-Fucking – or you might refer to it as “dancing”; either way it's ludicrous when performed by the male of the species.

Here’s what I think: All chicks dig it; they enjoy doing it, and seeing it done, by both sexes. A few men do it; they enjoy seeing it done, but only by chicks. This is a familiar paradigm. It is analogous to the ability of each sex to appreciate beauty in the same sex; i.e. women do, men can’t. Pillowbiters are excluded in that, of course.

Disclaimer:
This does not apply to traditional, folk, ballroom or any other such activity where the primary focus is on group social interaction or involves the engagement of higher brain function. So I ain't callin' yer grandpa a sissy.

Elijah Made It!

Seven pounds and change, 20 inches long and a buncha black hair. Last I heard Dr. Who and Nate baby were doin' OK. Got the call just before midnight last night so I guess that means Elijah was born March 30.

Congrats to all at Nate's Peep Paradise!

WooHoo! Another nephew!

Now why does a Hank Williams tune keep runnin' around in my head?
-

No news on the birthing front.......yet.

Note the timestamp on this post. It's Wednesday evening and Nate's at hospital w/ Dr. Who. I got a report this morning that there was a problem with the baby's heartbeat during labor, so they slowed things down a bit. Cross your fingers and say your prayers, folks.

Still waiting on Elijah!

On a lighter note I did add a link to "Nate's Peep Paradise". He will be so pleased.

Spacebunny Goes Tactical

Lifted from Nate's:

SB says,
.....you are making the erroneous assumption that Nate and UO and others would have waited this long. There has not always been this kind of guard on her and if someone were trying to kill my child (remember this has been going on a very long time, not just the past few weeks) I would have had her out of there years ago (when he first petitioned to remove her feeding tube) and there wasn't the security.

As they say, "possession is nine-tenths of the law". Think what a better chance the family would have to keep her alive had they only followed SB's advice. Though I suspect they have been thinking they fell down the hole with Alice for a month now. (The situation was probably unimaginable.) They would HAVE physical custody of their daughter and the judge would have to order her removed from theirs into the shithead's tender care. Law enforcement would have to ACT to kill her, rather than just preventing someone acting to save her. Whole different ballgame! Can you see judge grim and his Barney Fife squad executing an Elian Gonzalez(sp?) type raid to return her to the custody of those who wish her dead? Her dad, with a .38 snub, could hold them off to a buffer of 100 yards, probably more, by firing into the air! Make sure the rest of the family are Dad's hostages so only he goes to jail when some judge somewhere finally decides to lift the death sentence on his daughter and Mom and the rest are still around to care for her. Have a brother or two in reserve in case they try again. I know many who have a month's worth of food/water without even tryin'. The county isn't going to pay for the deputies to sit around that long drinkin' coffee and cowering behind their vehicles, especially if Dad works the media to his advantage. Factor in some forethought, and this becomes a very winnable situation at least in the short term.

The curious affair of Terri Shiavo and Niccolo di Bernardo dei Machiavelli

Perhaps it’s just that I haven’t been reading much commentary lately, but while lots of folks are criticizing the Bush brothers for their feeble and perhaps cynical use of Terri Schiavo for political gain, I got to wondering about the timing of all this. What one thing has come out of this that will stick in the mind of Johnny work-a-day?
Here's what I think: That these judges are not only getting sillier by the minute, but they are starting to get out of hand. The seed has been planted in the back of every man's mind that some fat no-account ambulance chasing liar-for-a-living may one real day hold his fate in its pale puffy putrid hands. They just might need takin’ down a notch, eh?
And just how many seats on the Supreme Court are coming open? After the Bush brothers made a conspicuous run at these judges ("black robes" they says, homebaked demigods says I) I don’t see GW having a lot of trouble getting constructionist judges past the senate. No one will take significant notice that several Republican appointees participated in the murder of Terri Schiavo and they will beat the opposition with the Terri Schiavo stick until none are left opposing them excepting Barney Lispingfag Frank.
In this scenario the Brothers Bush may not save Terri, in fact she MUST die in order for it to work. Machiavelli is smiling somewhere; hot as it may be.

Shout out to the King of the Peeps !

So, Nate, what was in that Easter basket Welldigger sent your way?
Nothin' like the considerate love of a brother to make the world seem a better place, eh?

Happy Easter to all!

And, Nate, don't hog all the peeps; Share with Jeb.

Orson Get's it Right

One of my favorite authors of SF/ fantasy is Orson Scott Card. I was shocked this morning to see he had a commentary on Terry Schiavo. One of the most well reasoned and thought out pieces I've read so far.

The quadriplegics who learn to paint with a brush held between their teeth.

Helen Keller.

Stephen Hawking.

I suppose, though, that we should have simply killed them as soon as the incurability of their problems became obvious. After all, what “quality of life” could they possibly have?

Enjoy.

The Brag

Part of Southron and Western male tradition is 'The Brag'. A man's brag says more about how witty, humorous, creative, and personable he is than how tough or accomplished he is.

Here's one of the best I've heard:

From This Cowboy's Hat by Chris LeDoux

You'll ride a black tornado, 'cross the western sky.
Rope an ole blue northern, and milk it til it's dry.
Bull dawg the Mississippi, and pin her ears down flat...
Long before you take this cowboys hat...

The Hammer Came Down

Well I never thought I'd have to do it, but I banned someone today for trolling. Deleted their posts even. It's dictatorial, I know.

I'm sure there will be disagreements here, arguments, hissy fits even and all that is OK; but outright trolling... nope. I am more than willing to share what meager knowledge/experience I possess and am quite capable of admitting I am wrong. I am wrong so often (so the wife says) I have gotten in the habit of admitting it even. But if you've got an ax to grind, do it somewhere else. There are ways to make points that provoke thoughtfulness in others and there are ways to provoke others. I will not provide space or a forum for you.

Stir shit somewhere else. And at least grow the balls to display your email and homepage.

Nuff Said.

A Budding Author!

My oldest daughter has been a prolific story writer for some years now, and says she gets an 'A' on every story she writes. I set up a place for her to post her stories.

Remember, she is 11 years old. Obviously, Nate, Welldigger, and I will be monitoring and supervising the activity. She wants to tell y'all to, "Send your daughters over", to her blog. "If they like horses they'll love it. No boys allowed!"

Of course boys ARE allowed so long as they behave as gentlemen.

Mono(b)logue

Many apologies. Look at the weeds around here! Better get busy; perhaps plant some shrubbery over there….

Gregg has been beside himself over this Terry Shiavo situation, and I must admit that for a time I had no trouble remaining detached and aloof from the whole thing. However, empathy catches up to nearly all of us and the horror has finally sunk in. Stephen King and Alfred Hitchcock could not together conjure such a diabolical end for an innocent woman. I, for one, had no ability to imagine the extent of the organized, engaged, willful machinery of this poor woman’s torture.

It must not be discounted the heavy application of government force to insure that Terry leaves this world in as miserable a way as is imaginable. The black robes have stated that not only will she die, but that we shall be forced to watch and may do nothing to stop it. Police arrest those attempting to give aid, and have cordoned off the facility. Healthcare professionals, who by definition have dedicated their lives to the preservation of human life are forced to stand idly by while this machinery slowly, horribly grinds Terry to dust.

This is not a fork in the road to western depravity and moral insolvency, we have obviously passed beyond that, but a marker in red letter’s stating, “Turn Back Now – SHITSTORM AHEAD!”

“And the king will say to them in reply, 'Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me’” Mathew (25:31-40).
Does the converse apply in that what we do to the least brothers we do to Him?

I don’t know anything of Terry’s father, but in his shoes I know if I was unable to mount a successfully murderous snatch and grab before hope runs out for my daughter there would be hell to pay.

“Vengence is Mine, Sayeth the Lord”.

Yes, and I would make immediately available to Him as many of those directly responsible for the continued suffering of my daughter for administration of said vengence.
We got trouble on planet earth, boys. We got trouble.

Gregg if you can find some time away from your saucey neighbor...

Check this out:

RTW

This type of riding and the TransAm Trail are what dualsports like the Kawasaki KLR650, the KTM Adventure 950, and the V-Strom are all about.

Show of hands here. Who WOULDN'T want to go riding off with Spice?


Fags.

KBC FFR 

New Helmet is Here!

This gonna be boring to some of ya'. No dirtbike crap outa you, Gregg.

I have been riding with a 'modular' helmet for about three years now and won't be w/o one. Modular helmets allow you to access your face w/o removing the helmet and are sometimes used as an open faced helmet with the chinbar in the up position against manufacturers warnings.
As you may be aware I laid BigRed down last fall and my Symax helmet took a lick. One whack is all they are good for so I've been shopping. I stumbled upon a KBC FFR model modular and to my delight it is made to be worn either with the chinbar down or up!!!

Anywho, Here it is:

Grass is Green, Water's Wet, The Sky is Blue and Women

Lie!

DC says,

I was blind-sided because I wasn't paying attention and I wasn't paying
attention because I was over-confident. I was over-confident because everything
was going so good. Sound familiar?

Now, I ain't pickin' on DC so unwad yer panties.

One of the observations I made early on in adult life was that a man is overmatched in the cunning department when it comes to the female of the species. Now, I only know DC through his posts and I guess I missed the stuff about the "she-devil", but I really doubt DC wasn't paying attention. I'd more likely believe some femme fatale concieved, planned, produced, and executed a blindside haymaker on him complete with diversionary tactics.

I've seen this many times. It ususally happens to some poor schmuck who goes to work everyday, tries to take care of his family, and is pretty much a doormat at the house and whose most offensive trait is snoring and playing cards with the fellas once a month or fishing on the weekends. Their wive's find a new stud and leave them. But they don't JUST leave. They plan an exit stategy whereby the guy is left unsuspecting while they retain lawyers, get papers signed, make suitabley advantageous impressions on the minds of friends/relatives, and generally get ready to pull the rug from under a guy while pulling the wool over his eyes. You can tell this is getting ready to happen when a man who formerly has complained that wifey is not forthcoming w/ sexual gratification suddenly thinks he's cock-o-the-walk because the woman is making sure he doesn't suspect her intentions or actions by sexually distracting him. The man is thinking that this woman has finally come to her senses and realized what a prize she has while she is thinking, 'heh, heh, heh!' It's not always sex, it can be housekeeping, or consideration, etc.

When next you see this fella he is head in hands, lip on the floor.

"Sam, why are you working all the time? Don't you ever go fishing anymore?"

Answer:"I have to work this much so I can afford to eat. The wife took the house, car, and the kids, and I got the payments. After I pay her, make her house payment and her car payment, and pay rent on my aprtment, I'm lucky if I can afford buy food. I have to work double shifts just to survive."

The worst thing about the above is the poor bastard blames himself or feel like he bears some responsibility for what the woman did. To this man I say:

The second you believe you have any control over what a woman does or will do you are lost.

PS - Gregg, you're next. We need to talk about the single mother next door.

Gotta get somethin' straight here

DC said:

Having said that, I'd be very disappointed in Nate if he went on this trip
regardless of when the new one's born. Dr. Who needs you now, through the birth
and for weeks after.Be a man. This ain't time to be playing with your friends
and brothers, son.

Bah! I have held for quite some time now that a man has no business scurrying around like a midwife or wet nurse. Sure, when you look at the situation from a distance is seems right that the man should participate in the harrowing experience of delivery and assist in the hard hours immediately thereafter with getting baby fed, imprinted, started on the road to survuval in this big ol' world.

A man has no business in that delivery room or taking on the lion's (female) share of the intense initial care of baby. Mom needs her mother or her sister (presuming birthing experience) in there or both; a man is of no use other than to stand idly by recieving abuse from his woman while in extremis. I don't say this lightly, nor is this a 'traditional role' argument. There are few things that get under a man's skin like being involved in a problematic situation for which he has no solution or aid to present. We have a natural 'fix it' instinct which is thwarted by the alien environment for which we are unprepared into which we are thrust in this situation. Ladies, you have no idea how bad we want to kill somebody during this time.

And Girl's! Have you lost your damn minds? The risk is greater than the reward from the woman's perspective here unless the 'social boner' you get from telling all your girlfriends of the episode has an unhealthy importance. Given that the male reproductive system is highly motivated by visual stimulus, you risk nothing less than the loss of your man's desire for you. On the hit parade of important things to a happy wife this is #1 with a bullet. It is not uncommon for a man to carry with him a lasting image of his favorite female body part in a hideously distended state with all sorts of gruesome discharge in surprisingly large volumes (think 5 gallon buckets here) emanating therefrom. Remembering that we are inclined to 'root' around in these things from time to time from sheer exuberance, fixing this image in a man's mind would seem to be undesirable on the woman's part. The pactice of feminine hygene while in menses is surely less graphicly offensive yet women have no desire to 'share' this with their man.

On the matter of initial caregiving, we are useless. We can't feed the baby, we have no instinct nor equipment in these matters. We are only capable of futiley trying determine whom to injure to cause our offspring to stop wailing. Sure we can tote and fetch, but anyone can do that and we provide no comfort to the female past playing nursemaid. Not what we were built for. There is a mother, motherinlaw or sister somewhere quite capable and willing to help a woman with her 'sitz' bath.

The whole man in childbirth thing boggles the mind.

I'm not in the mood....

It's not whatcha think, ya' pervs. I've got a motorcycle trip planned for the first week of April and it's pretty much all I can think about. Oh, yeah, my soon to be new nephew, too. I didn't forget. Speaking of which, let's all concentrate and think labour thoughts toward Dr. Who so she will deliver well before my trip. I don't understand these folks' water breakin' when the weather is gettin' ready to break. Priorities, man. Anywho, the welcome mat is out for Welldigger and Nate to travel the countryside sans broads.
I ordered a backrest for the Mothership, and am considering heated grips. April is NOT summer, even in the South.
So I'm headin' South. Down to Nashvlle to the head of the Natchez Trace and on to Natchez, Mississippi. I'll be camping on the trace at least one night but I won't make a habit of it - not much fun riding on a dirty ass. From there I'll turn north onto the Great River Road, following it until the week starts getting short and then head back east toward home. I should be able to get to Paducah, Kentucky before turning right. Just a little trip - nothing like the road assault Nate and I went on last summer.

So, weeds may grow around here from lack of tending, or not......

Little Girls and Creepy Crawlies

Let me preface this by stating: This Is Not The Bug Blog !

However,

SB asks:

Explain this to me oh man with daughters. Why is that my 2 year old will flip
out if she's fuzz on the floor she thinks might be a bug of some sort, but
regularly brings me ants?
Spacebunny Email Homepage 03.05.05 - 12:47
pm #

Who knows SB? Fuzzy bugs are scarier I guess. My girls regularly dig worms for ritual sacrifice to the chicken, stomp ants and beetles, salt slugs, catch lightning bugs bare handed yet protest mightily the execution of a 'Lady' bug (sexist, I know). My guess would be that the 'fuzzies' are similar to those black wooly jumping spiders that seem to populate the entire universe in one form or another and your 2 year old doesn't want to give one the opportunity to trick her with its disguise. Spiders are nasty things with fangs and many creepy legs while ants are industrious. busy, harmless (yes, Gregg, I know yours aren't), non-aggressive, and their buddies don't get angry when you stomp them.

Of course, no female will pass up an opportunity to be rescued. Has she seen a playmate or relative call down immediate and deadly force by spazzing out over some poor critter? You know; (I think it's ugly. I don't like it. I'll have Daddy kill it.) WHAAAAA! One thing I have learned is to never underestimate the conniving ability of females. I don't think little girls naturally fear anything and they damned sure don't shrink from dispensing the hurt when it strikes their fancy.

Illustration:
I am reading in a chair on the porch, soakin' up the sun, and enjoying the afternoon breeze. My then 3 year old has a young cat on the porch swing lovin' on it. Ahh, summertime in Salvisa.

"khic! khic!...... KHIC!..KHIC!", I hear in my left ear.
There was my sweet daughter serenely strangling the cat, both hands encircling its neck, with outstretched arms so that poor kitty's feet dangled a few feet above the porch floor. Her eyes are locked onto his so he knows beyond a doubt from whence death comes. I must really have been absorbed in the book, because kitty was already about gone (his eye's were bugging out and he had given up the fight except for the struggle to inhale) and had only managed to alert me because my daughter was visibly fatigued and was experiencing reduced grip strength.
"Why are you killing the cat?", I asked - she knows I have no particular objection to dead cats but I can't be a bad example all the time.
"He tried to scratch me." Note: he didn't scratch her. He tried.
"You can't kill him", I stated.
"Yes, I can!", she asserted while attempting to show me how really strong she was by bearing down on her deathgrip with arm shaking determination.
oops!, "I'm sorry, hon. You 'may not' kill him for that". Semantics are important in this house - I swear sometimes I think I'm raising Philadelphia lawyers.
"Now, let him go.", still no effect, "NOW!"
She dropped the cat and stomped off in a huff.

Left to her own devices I'd bet your daughter would not shrink from puttin' the heel to that fuzzy thing just to be sure it was inoffensive. There must be a greater benefit from the attention had by calling down the 'Wrath of SpaceBunny'. Hmmmm......

"Wrath of SpaceBunny"..... Sounds like an 'R' rated Star Trek episode doesn't it?!

Cool Bug Alert!

"Ewwwwwww! Dad, What is it!?" My daughter leapt from her perch on the kitchen chair.

Dad to the rescue! The offensive object in question turned out to be a heretofore unseen type of 1/8" critter. I trapped it under a drinking glas, which has the fortunate consequence of magnifying objects under it, and studied the critter for identification. No dice, still too small.

I poured alcohol under the glass to kill it and scanned it at 1200dpi. Now we're cookin with butter. Let's see eight legs and a set of claws like a crab.

Ran google search for 'crab'. Not a crab. Tried 'arachnid'. No joy. Maybe 'scorpion'. Yep!

Pseudoscorpion! Eats bookworms, poison claws! It was probably prowling inside my daughter's Archie comic!

Coutesy of GardenSafari.net:

Pseudoscorpions, also known as False Scorpions, are the least known Arthropods. They are all very tiny indeed. The biggest is less than one centimeter long but most of them are only 2 milimeters long. They resemble the actual scorpions very much except that they lack the poisonous tail. Just like scorpions and crabs they have the front legs in form of scissors which are poisonous. All spieces are preditors. The tiniest ones can even be found on paper of books where they hunt for bookworms. In Britain there are about 25 species, most of those being real look-a-likes. Many can be found by turning rocks, leaves or by peeling loose barks, but because of there size and colors they are easily overlooked. These species are mainly dark brown with reddish brown pincers. They feed on very small insects. Often the species can be only told apart after microscopic research.

AutoProphecy

This is Gregg's fault.
The American automotive industry is making a huge change. There is a revolution going on in the auto industry that has been dreamed of since the 50's 'turbine' car waas introduced. My advice to you is to sell off anything that gets poor mileage that is not task specific. So, cars under 25 mpg, large trucks under 20 mpg, except heavy duty diesels go on the block. I am exempting heavy duty diesels here because they cannot be replaced for their tasks with fuel efficient smaller vehicles.
Why do this? The hybrids and small turbo diesels are coming SOON. The breakthrough has already happened (Ford Escape hybrid, Jeep Liberty CRD) and by 2008 you won't be able to get anything for your 5.4L Expedition.
Relax, we don't have to give up our trucks/SUV's. Find a safe fuel efficient vehicle and sit on it until the large hybrids and turbo diesels hit the market in a big way. I'm saying 2008. That vehicle plus one more should get us to a non-petrol fueled Excursion type family conveyance. So we'll have our cake and eat it, too, without giving half to Exxon.

Anyone seen the new Jeep Gladiator? 2.8L TurboDiesel, of course.

Tree Huggin' Sons of Bitches

Just how pervasive is this tree hugger bullshit? It gets into everything like sand in your shorts. Example:

We recently swapped an older Ford Excursion for a new Jeep Liberty Diesel and the wife is understandably proud of her unique, and hypercapable vehicle. She couldn't wait to show it to a lifelong buddy, 'Angel', so they met up for a shopping spree. Go figure.
Anywho, Angel made over the wife's truck and then stated that she was 'proud' of her for 'downsizing' because those big trucks are so dangerous to others in little cars. The wife let her know that more people in little cars are hurt or killed by smashing themselves against trees than are killed by impacts with large SUVs/trucks.
This sort of exchange absolutely sickens me. It is not rocket science to realize that a little thing hit by a big thing is destroyed. So what Angel said to my wife was, 'I am so proud of you for putting your children at greater risk of injury to make me feel safer in my POS car I bought because I care more about spending money on gas than I do the safety of my child'.
----disclaimer - The Liberty does not show a significant increase in deaths per million vehicles as opposed to the Excursion. I checked, don't doubt it.
What is with these pie-eyed zombies? The old cathode ray tube really does a number on some folks.

Here's the real world data.
How Does Your Car / Truck/ Minivan stack up?
Cars vs Trucks (and SUVs')

Middle Bro is up to something.

I sense one of my younger brothers lookin' to waylay me. It seems all liitle brothers do that from time to time, but I bear the burden of having a particularly sneeky, coniving, and underhanded pair. Don't know where they picked that up.

As I awake this morning in the great state of TN the sun is out, there's sparkling frost on the zoysia and I find Wellbigger'sThunderAce in pieces in the garage. Hmmmm.

There is a new exhaust system over there. Lots of shiny bits over here. Rags, polishing wheel lint bunnies, emery cloth, clean and highly organized tools. ...(sniff, sniff) I smell trouble.
Big Red may need an update. No need to woory about Nate, pieces of his scooter fly off when I pass him, but Welldigger may be up to something serious.

See, Welldigger dug up this ThunderAce on ebay and I encouraged him to buy it, 'cause I could tell it was somebody's old track bike. Folks hear the term 'track bike' and think 'faster than street'. This is not necessarily so, alot of 'em are ragged out. So I picked it up for him and delivered it on my trailer banking on it being a POS. It is. However, it wouldn't take a whole lot to put it in fighting trim and that would be capital 'T' trouble. BigRed and I would be relagated to exhaust sniffing. Normally I wouldn't worry over this but Welldigger has been hangin' out with the neighbor, Ron, (who likes to build racecars and set track records in NHRA) and they are both psycho type 'A' mechanics.

What's a brother to do?!

I got a problem with Californians.

Calfornia: the land from whence all tree huggery comes never tires of dispensing environmental criticism of the rest of the country. They can't give anybody else advice; they do shit worse than what they make fun of hillbillies for.

Didya' see Drudge today? Look out! It's raining in California! Must be a global flood on the horizon. They build their houses on hillsides and wonder at them being swept away in a river of mud. Go figure.

They refuse to cut down trees, so the entire state catches fire. Er, must be global warming, there's a draught drying the forest and causing the rain not to fall and put it out.

These dumbasses impose a moratorium on generating plant construction. You see, the rest of the country doesn't know how to 'conserve' energy. Conservation creating power is akin to buying on sale to save money. Right, California has rolling blackouts due to lack of power generation capacity.

You reap what you sow. Morons.

Alright fella's,

I can see a little moderating is needed here re: the following.

Haha, guys, I hope you all understood that my remarks were tongue-in-cheek.Wes Email Homepage 02.21.05 - 8:46 pm #

Me too, Wes. I was just takin' a shot at
Nate.digitalcowboy Email Homepage 02.23.05 - 7:07 pm #

Men, I am gonna be ill if this kinda thing is going to happen everytime we start throwin' darts at each other. Yer not gonna hurt my feelings, I don't have any, and Nate's damn near as tough as me. I won't allow plain yankee nastyness, but a timely and/or artful jab will always be appreciated, even evaluated. The outstanding will be recognized.

Seriously, It's playground rules here. Let fly. It's all in fun.

Jeep diesel !

Ever wanted a little tank of your own? Well, a Jeep Liberty is not a tank, but a Liberty CRD sure puts you in mind of one when you drive it, albeit one that runs 90mph like it's nothin' and gets 27mpg in the process. It sure seems small, but we knew there would be some adjusting to do. I won't have trouble adjusting to the frequency and cost of fillups. Or the 12,500 mile oil change interval.

The Excursion has gone to the big dealership in Frankfort, and the wife nabbed their first diesel Liberty 30 minutes after it hit the ground off the truck. Made a good deal, too. Especially considering folks have been payin' sticker-plus for the little buggers.

Whoohoo!

Ya' just never know

what's gonna happen out on that branch of the family tree......

Vox Awards Fiasco

Spacebunny received not even a nomination from Vox for one of his numerous 'daisy' awards. Yet another example of yankee oppression.

That said, I will only be conferring one award and it is for:

The Most Long Suffering Underappreciated Wife On The Planet Who Makes Her Husband Think He's Smarter Than She Is:

And the winner is......

Spacebunny!

(honourable mention to Dr Who.)

Who you callin' Redneck?

JamieR deserves a Rebel Yell for this folks!

The gay lobby wouldn't be burning crosses outside his frontyard right now. And
Jeff, Nate, Gregg, JACIII, Clay, and all the Southron minorities would never go
to Washington D.C. for the Million Redneck March after more than a century of
abuse, chanting: "I shall persevere. We shall persevere."Nope. Because that
crybaby shit is only for .......!Jamie R Email
02.16.05 - 11:00 am #

Now that's impressive. But I should have expected it from Ben Bostrums Ducati 998 paintjob. The man had it painted as a Battle Flag and raced all over the world. Winning quite a bit, I might add.

And what's all this talk of BillClinton and LyndonJohnson being rednecks? No way. BC and LBJ would be the whiners Jamie speaks of. BC wouldn't last 20 minutes in a hunting camp. Somebody'd stomp his ass. Now LBJ was an avid hunter and to his credit hated the Kennedy's, probably even had one killed, but he was no redneck. Just another filthy rich liberal democrat looking out for the common working man, right? Sure, rich folk are always lookin' out for po' folks. Look, no redneck is gonna send out checks to people for sittin' on their asses. Nope. Charlie Rangel doesn't know a single redneck. I'd put money on it.

The first US Submarine to do a barrel roll.

The USS JimmyCarter so named because it is designed to roll inverted and beg for mercy.

Motorcycle fix

....... hallowed be Thy name,
Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done,
if You'll give me just a couple of warm dry days.....

And the clouds parted, the Southern wind blew, the mercury touched 58.

Saturday: Got the Mothership off that trailer. Trailers are for boats. Polished the Chrome. Wired up my new driving lights. Whoohoo! They are a bit modern for the ol' Kaw, they look like alien artifacts, but they fit nicely with the post-disco styling of the Mothership. Got ina few miles. Glorious!

Sunday: Got up, skipped church, warmed the bike up and gone! Cranked up the usual tune list (see archive) and just followed the front tire.

Monday : 38F @ 0-darkhundred but 58F by 1400 hours. Pulled into the drive just as the rain and shitty weather began again in earnest.

I can only conclude from the above that it was a good idea to give up on the United Methodist Church and take up with the local Southern Baptists.

Democrats are in flatspin

Whew! I have never seen an organization implode like the democrats are lately. I haven't decided if they are doing this to themselves or GW has just handed them their own ass so many times they no longer are able to do anything but say, "Thankyou, sir, may I have another?". I keep hearing that they are becoming more extreme due to recent failures, but I don't buy that.

Here's what I think: There's nothing left but the true believers. No one with a brain is capable any longer of being a casual demcrat unless they truly possess the twisted values of a babykilling socialist.

When is a city a hive?

Short answer - they all are.

Credit must be given to VOX for bringing this to mind. He has a discussion going over there on city dwellers that quickly degenerated into the specifics of the term 'hive' as applied to cities with proponents on both sides concerning citylivin'. They were also pickin' on my little brother, but I'll let that go. For now.

I was ruminating several years back after seeing one of the kennedy brats espousing algore's brilliant campaign strategy of only spending money in big cities when it hit me: These folks have figured out that people in large numbers are easy to control when living in high population densities. (Of course, this is something those of us in rural America already knew, and why in fact we are IN rural America.) All of the mob psychology principles apply all of the time! How convenient for aspiring nanny state politicians. What the kennedy brat didn't know was that once we knew he knew that he and his ilk were f*****, politically speaking of course. The rest is history, the main point being brat kennedy did not read in enough detail the 'trends' section of the 2000 census which showed urban flight increasing.

Now, not all technically defined 'cities' are hives. What determines the designation of the term?

Here's what I think: Below a certain number population is not as critical as culture. There are plenty of cities below 100,000 of the non-universitytown type that encompass polar
political viewpoints. That said, 100K seems critical mass with university towns down to 25k to 30k in yankee hell filling with drones. The truly BIG towns are forever lost to independent thought. Protest all you will hive dwellers, even tinfoil hats will not protect you unless, of course, you ALL wear them. Show me a big city libertarian and I'll show you a fella that thinks neighborhood covenants and association meetings are worthwhile, restrictive zoning ordnances are a good thing, and taxes wouldn't be so high if the city council would only manage its money better.

My advice to couples starting out: Don't by that big house in town with a quarter acre lot. Spend the same amount on 100+ acres and a trailer instead.

That's enough for now lest I begin ramblin'.

Outie/Innie Conversion. And they said it couldn't be done...

From the wisdom of Appalachia comes this handy item. A must-have for every new mom's post partum toolkit. Say little Suzy comes out all rosy cheeks and giggles, but that belly button just will not shrink up into a proper body cavity. Little Suzy is looking more like a high-mount little Johnny. Can't have that.

What's a mom to do? Cosmetic surgery at such a young age? Can't have her going around ..... protruding! Relax; the old women say to place a silver half-dollar over the bellybutton and it will rapidly shrink and tuck. Folks even go so far as to sew (for the "modern girls" out there - that's the process whereby pieces of cloth are joined together to form garments) a band with a pouch in the front for the half dollar for occasions when a long term remedy is indicated.

Folks claim this method never fails and purport to have generated cavernous belly buttons from its application.

Just doing my part to combat post partum depression.

All this talk of Social Security reform..

has got me thinkin'. Here's what I think: The problem (aside from the fact that it is a pyramid scheme) is mainly the fact that we had to borrow from the fund to finance government expenditures. Now, you will hear we had to apend it on this big thing or that big thing, but it comes down to social programs siphoning off money that should have been used for those big things to start with.

Solution: Establish a finders fee for any information linking a SS recipient to hippydom (dope, tie-die shirts, bell bottom pants, old pics of long haired maggot infested sandal wearing Rolling Stones fans) and cut the SS recipient's benefits by half. 'Cause Lord knows they pushed for all that welfare state crap.

Medical Advice or Wisdom of the Old Women

Dr. Who will dig this.....

A woman I work with told me of a condition her young son (around 2yrs) has. He is exhibiting blisters on the back of his throat, sores on the outside of his mouth and a white tongue. Sounds odd right from the start. Being a layman I'm thinkin' it's probably something 'mom' brought home from a late weekend night. Like a herpes something or other.

Anyhow, the woman is having trouble in that her doctor is apparently unable to cope with his condition. She said he gave the boy percocette. Sounds like a recreational drug to me. What do I know? Word gets around the workplace of the woman's problem and before long a lady from eastern Kentucky tells me what the problem is.

Thrash.

I know that's how it's spelled 'cause I asked. I had to - horses carry an anaerobic bacteria commonly referred to as "thrush" on the bottoms of their feet which if left untreated can cause all kinds of nasty things.

The lady explained to me that the way to get rid of the condition is to have the seventh son of a seventh son blow into the infected child's mouth. Failing that, it is also possible to cure the condition by locating a son who has never seen his father and applying the same treatment. My next question was, "Now, where did you come up with that information?" The reply, "Old women."

Hmmmm.

Don't laugh. It was related to me that the county judge executive (that's sort of like a rural mayor for those of you cursed with city livin') qualifies under the second set of above parameters in that he has never layed eyes upon his father and folks are all the time bringing their babies to have their mouths blown into.

I have a theory about this. Not about the curing of "thrash", but about folk wisdom in general. I think we have forgotten why we do or don't do a lot of things. I believe folks worked out solutions to problems or ways to avoid Bad Things through rigid forms of behavior passed down from generation to generation. This system worked fine until the baby boomers decided that they were the smartest crop of younglings ever to have been born and set about enlightening the rest of us about the ignorance of what amounts to the combined wisdom of all the eons of mankind's existence. An example: Homosexual practice is a Bad Thing. The self appointed intelligentsia of the 60's decided this was an outdated and useless social convention rooted in superstition and so fueled the sexual 'revolution' which begat rampant "queenerism". So, it wasn't too long before scads of folks began buggering one another; after all it was only ignorance and bigotry that promoted this baseless social sanction prohibiting the homosexual practice, right? Riiiiight..... Now, thirty years and reportedly many million deaths down the road we discover (or did we re-discover) that other than the fact that you'll go to hell for buggering one another, you will be contributing to the spread of a fatal global epidemic for which there is no cure.

Here's what I think:

We knew WHAT we weren't supposed to do, but our culture allowed it to be forgotten WHY we weren't supposed to, and our arrogance caused us to have to RELEARN it. The hard way.

Who knows why having a stranger blow into a child's mouths relieves him from an illness? Perhaps the child lacks a digestive bacteria that checks the growth of some otherwise beneficial critter.... Could be anything. The seventh son part? Hmmm.

There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio.........

Things have been dead around here.....

Sorry - many upgrades going on. I have a four computer household and have been getting WiFi up and running . 802.11g rocks. Also upraded my DSL. 1.5 Mbps! WoooWhoo!

I am one happy nerd :-)

The 'Runaway' thing....

Nate, Welldigger, and I all have this urge. It is our fondest dream to just go places far away for extended periods of time while taking the long route to get there. This sort of thinkin', of course, leads to motorcycles simply because they are the conveyance with the best compromise of 'getting there' with the maximum sense of travel. O.K. they're fast and chicks dig 'em, but that isn't germane here.

Anyhow, I have been thinkin on this urge to runaway. I wonder if it's typical of your average above-average male. Hell, I'm a contented family man; Love my wife and daughters, enjoy the hell out of just sittin' on the porch swing readin' most days. But give me a break in the clouds and warm sunshine and I'm thinkin' I need to be on the way to somewhere on the other side of nowhere.

I know few others with this urge to the extent I have it. Nate and Welldigger as I mentioned above, though Nate can hardly get outa the house long enough for the peck marks to heal up. Them and a couple of old guys I work with. That's pretty much it. Not a scientific survey, but I know a lot of folks.

Sure, lots of folks like to travel, and lots of folks like to ride bikes (internal combustion here folks - no spandex shorts for me) but they are mostly 'daytrippers'. Ya' get most 'bikers' out on a ride, they got a time their mom.....er..wife has for 'em to be home THAT DAY! No way they're stayin' out all night!

Lot's of folks travel. They take the fastest way to get there. Stay in one spot a bit, then haul ass back. Doesn't do much for me.

Take a week, take TWO. Grab a buddy or a brother, hell even a wife. Don't schedule anything, pick a general direction or something to see; climb on, fire it up, point the front wheel toward the sun and go! We'll get there when we get there. Eat only at mom and pop resturants, say 'howdy' to folks, sleep at "motor inns", stop in a town square at sunset - sit on a bench in leathers and a wifebeater with helmethair next to the bike under a statue of a Confederate hero staring ever vigilant...... northward lest they try again. Then do it again the next day, and the next and the next..... Don't go home 'til ya' miss someone more than you want to see what's around the next bend or over the next rise or ya' run outa time.

Sounds like heaven to me. Might be purgatory for others.

Pussies.

Rant

Enough of this winter weather already! Sure, it's a 'mild' winter, that means it rains everytime it's not below freezing. We have had several 60+ degree days since November, but it rains damn near every time the mercury stretches above 'chilly'. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Sorry. Rant off.

What was Igoing to write about? Oh yeah, the 'runaway' thing....

see above.