HAPPY NEW YEAR
May you spend a majority of the year ensconced in pudding or doing whatever else floats your boat.
Public Notice
Walking through one's home singing Fat Bottom Girls by Queen isn't conducive to one's longevity or well being.
Old School
As I was loading my CD collection onto the iPod the missus gave me for Christmas I realized I have quite the eclectic, borderline schizophrenic, taste in music. And just like Our Maximum Leader I have discovered the wonders that had just been collecting dust until now.
Recently Loaded onto the iPod: De La Soul, Jimmy Buffett, Johnny Cash, Queen, Guster and The Refreshments just to name a few. I almost feel sad for the youth of today who have yet too discover the wonder of "Old School Music" as my twenty year old sister in law described it. The only good news is that she is now of the path to enlightenment, after being forced to endure samplings from a majority of the CD's being imported.
Chesticles not protected speech
Apparently interpretive dance isn't a protected form a free speech in Eastern North Carolina.
VIA The Daily Rejecter: On December 21st a judge ruled a Pitt County ordinance, which limits the location of adult businesses is constitutional. Thus the clubs, Deja Vu, Deja Vu II, the Silver Bullet Dolls, and Misty's must all relocate if they wish to remain in business.
'tis a sad, sad day when Truck drivers are no longer to watch trailer-park girls perform in their native habitats.
Another random question for my readers
On my lastest visit to the left coast I saw several advertisements for "massage parlors" that set my mind to wondering. While not being the most worldly of travelers I'm not "fresh off the turnip truck" either.
I've heard of Thai Bathhouses and I've heard of a Swedish massage, but what the hell is a Thai Swedish Massage?
Baby Jesus Blogging
*** Start Disclaimer ***
If you've reached this page looking for information on Baby Jesus, you're not going to find it.
This is a post setup primarily because I enjoy beating dead horses and will go to great lengths to prove a point. Also it's a lame attempt to prevent the number one search result for Baby Jesus from being a sex toy.
You may also consider it sacrilege, if so, move along.
** End Disclaimer ***
I may have opened a can of worms in a previous post from earlier today regarding google results for Baby Jesus. There was discussion about the search results and it was suggested that it would be easy a dubious programmer at google to make couple of tweaks to shift the results when search for Baby Jesus to an adult toy site either that or it was asserted there has to be a flaw at the very core of Google's search routine.
As best I can figure Google's search routine utilizes weighted values where items in between the <title> tags are assigned higher values than items in <h*> (header tags), which are assigned higher values than items in hyperlinks, which are assigned higher values than plain text. Kind of confusing until you put it all on paper. Lets assign arbitrary values of 5 for a title reference, 4 for a h1 header reference, 3 for all other header references, 2 for hyperlinks and a solitary point for plain text.
This individual post would rate as follows:
Page Title: phin's blog: Baby Jesus Blogging +5 points
H1 Reference (the article post title): Baby Jesus Blogging +4 points
No additional Header References: 0 points
Two Hyperlinks: +4 points
Plain Text References: Baby Jesus was referenced seven times + 7 points
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Total Score: 20
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now I'm making no claims that Google uses this exact scenario, however weighted systems such as these are common. Anybody who has spent a semester or two studying computation and complexity theory can back these claims.
Now, well now we wait to see if my removal of Google's 'bot from the Robots.txt will allow Google to pick up this page and take me to the top of search results for Baby Jesus.
Circumnavigation
I received an unsolicited e-mail several weeks back from a reader warning me about having Junior's johnson circumcised. The sender was adamant about it being inhuman and no longer required in today's modern society. She then warned me about those that would try to force their views on me, even when I hadn't asked for their opinions, ironic no?
I realized there's a war on Circumcision being waged, the battle lines have clearly been drawn.
Circumcision: You're either fore-skin or not.
Google Delenda est
While preparing a post for Christmas a search on was done on Google for Baby Jesus. The googler was hoping to find an image or two that would accompany his post wishing his readers a Merry Christmas, while reminding them that the Baby Jesus is the "reason for the season". However much to the googler's dismay a sex toy was found to be the number one result when you search for the phrase Baby Jesus on Google and from there the conspiracy theories began to fly and other people decided to join in.
Excuse me for a second while I don my Aluminum Foil Deflector Beanie, okay all better now that the Deamoncrats can't infiltrate my thoughts with their Mindochangeatron.
Is having the number one result when searching for Baby Jesus offensive? Sure it is, but the last time I checked we were free, which means we're free to be offended, and that we may on occasion run across something sacrilegious. If you're curious about countries that hands down stiff penalties for sacrilege check into Iran or Saudi Arabia.
People have claimed they've reviewed the HTML for the page and that there is nothing that should push that particular page to the top of the rankings. Now maybe I'm wrong, but I'd be willing to bet my bank account that nobody making or backing these claims has access to the code Google uses, you know seeing how it's proprietary and all. When I checked the HTML I found the "Offending Site" has five occurrences of the phrase Baby Jesus as with some of them being hyperlinks, thus the increased ranking. (The next couple of sites had a frequency count of six without any hyperlinks.)
Many bloggers, myself included, receive hits for often unthought-of of phrases. To expect Google to filter out every phrase people find offensive would be an impossible task, not to mention they'd have the ACLU all over them like white on rice. To launch conspiracy theories placing the blame on Google or a Google employee or faulting their code for working as designed (just because you don't like the results) is just plain asinine.
A little bit of research into the Google bombing may have saved the conspiracy theorists a bit of headache, yet instead they're charging along without basis or reasoning, even when they've been approached with logical explanations. Some commenters calling for the destruction of Google and calling for Google to modify its search results (I was waiting for Jessie Jackson and Al Sharpton to join in, with demands of atonement) and do nothing to further conservatives viewpoints.
Perhaps there’s a witch that could burn at the stake, it's been a while and the stench of unfounded accusations has obviously become unrecognizable.
Now excuse me while I go Caroling:
Deck the halls with Aluminum Foil
Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la
Don we now our Tin Foil Beanies
Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la
Merry Christmas My friend
As we take time this weekend to spend time with family and friends please take a moment to remember and say a prayer for the men and women in our armed services who have made it possible for us to celebrate Christmas without fear of prosecution.
Merry Christmas My friend was penned by James M. Schmidt, a Lance Corporal stationed in Washington, D.C., when he wrote the poem back in 1986. It was First published in "Leatherneck Magazine", December 1991.
Twas the night before Christmas; he lived all alone
In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone
I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
And to see just who in this home did live.As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand
On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.With medals and badges, awards of all kind
A sobering thought soon came to my mind
For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen
This was the home of a U.S. Marine.I'd heard stories about them, I had to see more
So I walked down the hall and pushed open the door
And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone
Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.He seemed so gentle, his face so serene
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine
Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan
I soon understood, this was more than a man
For I realized the families that I saw that night
Owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.Soon around the Nation, the children would play
And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day
They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year
Because of Marines like this one lying here.I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone
On a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice
"Santa, don't cry, this life is my choice
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more
My life is my God, my country, my Corps."With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep
I watched him for hours, so silent and still
I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.So I took off my jacket, the one made of red
And covered this Marine from his toes to his head
Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold
With an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride
And for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside
I didn't want to leave him so quiet in the night
This guardian of honor so willing to fight.But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure
Said "Carry on, Santa, it's Christmas Day, all secure."
One look at my watch and I knew he was right
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.
A question for my 2.86 readers
Do you use a feed / rss reader? If so which one?
I've been playing with both Pluck
and Google Desktop for a couple of days and have decided I like pluck
mo' better than gizoogle. I'm just wondering if there's something else
that's easier and more feature rich than Pluck.
Nerves
After hearding 'bout the brithin' of several bebes over ten pounds the missus is a tad bit on the nervous side. A cousin gave birth to a ten pound man child. A friend of hers from college gave birth to an eleven pounder (naturally I might add). Then there's the recent news of a fourteen pound half bebe, half college freshmen that was just birthed in Oklahoma¹.
To her daily conversations with the phinlet she's reassuring him that a healthy starting weight between six and eight pounds is perfectly normal. She's also become quite religious as of late, mentioning that she isn't looking to set any records with the birthin' of our child.
I'm not sure about y'all but I find her lack of a sense of adventure a tad bit disconcerting.
1) Coincidence? Meybe, Meybe not. SADIE LOU WHERE ARE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Bowler Tip to Our Maximum Leader.
Lumberjack Syndrome
I awoke this mornin' about 2am askairt. As askairt as I've ever been before in my short thirty years hear on earth. When I was shocked awake I realized that at some point during the night aliens had snuck into my bedroom and replaced my lovely bride with an ill mannered twin.
The thing that startled me awake was loud snoring. Matter of fact I was pretty sure that a drunken lumberjack had passed out on the other side of our bed. But the snoring quit when I pinched her nose shut so I'm pretty sure her boyfriend snuck out before I woke up.
She's making frequent trips to the bathroom. She's up every couple of hours, if I didn't know better I'd think she was spending all her spare time at the bar pounding beers with all the other pregnant chics in town.
Then there's the swelling, everything is swelling, including the lump she left on the back of my head.
Pregnant women scare me, they're so damned mean and violent.
note: Parts of this post are complete and total B.S., but I'll leave it to you to decide which parts.
More from the mail box
Santa Santa Santa.
For the record I had nothing to do with the production of the above flash animation.
Is there a doctor in the house??
I'm not quite sure what inspired somebody to google the phrase: dr. phin radioactive but apparently they didn't find what they were looking for 'round here. At least not in their brief visit to my humble abode on the Interweb.
I do of course maintain a plethora of worthless knowledge, some of it medical in nature. So if dear googler if you're still out there please feel free to ask away.
Performancing for Firefox
Performancing for Firefox is here!
Of course you're probably wondering just what is Performancing for Firefox.
Well the good folks over at Performancing.com have written a blog editor for Firefox. So if you're using Firefox Version 1.5 or better, instead of writing your posts in Wordpress, Movable Type or Blogger you can use the Performacing Editor.
What makes this even better is you can setup your blog and post directly from the editor, like I did with this post. So you don't even have to log in to write or publish posts ever again.
If you aren't running any other plugins / extensions for Firefox, I whole heartedly recommend you run Performancing for Firefox.
Blasphemous
As a North Carolinian I realized this past weekend that I'm also a blasphemous heathen when it comes our states favorite past time. 'round these parts betwixt the months of November and March the men's collegiate competition involving an orange bouncy round ball reigns supreme. Tarheels, i.e. all North Carolinians, not just the University of North Carolina Chapelhillanites, have named buildings, highways and chirrens after the great coaches of their sport.
North Carolinians, and even households, are divided when the warring factions take on each other. Duke, UNC Chapelhill, Wake Forest, etc... All the while I could givadamn less, thus the blasphemy. Nope I could care less for the perversion people now call men's basketball, on both the collegiate and professional level.
So when I happen across a men's basketball game on Tee Vee I happen to keep right on gong. Maybe I'll find a documentary about navel gazing, a Golden Girls Marathon (that Bea Arthur is one sexy beyatch) or perhaps a women's basketball game, they still remember the fundamentals of the game (even though the women in Basketball aren't nearly as hot or scantily clad as the women in Volleyball).
The World's Shortest Fairy Tale
From the virtual mail box:
Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl "Will you marry me?"
The girl said, "NO!"
And the guy lived happily ever after and went fishing, hunting and got laid a lot and drank beer and farted whenever he wanted.
THE END
An Inquisition for the Inquisitor
Greta of Hooah Wife is interview basil. Clicky over and submit yer questions for the inquisitor.
Gingered Spam Salad
I realize 'bout half of what I eat isn't on most folks list of normal dinning, but a Spam Salad, Gingered or not, just don't sound right. Sounds almost putrid if'n you ask me.
Nope, round my house Spam shalln't touch any veggies unless they're fried.
basil to the rescue
With Typepad suffering from a major meltdown basil has set up a tracking post. Go ahead leave a trackback or comment and let folks know where your temporary homes are.
If any Typepad customers are looking to move away from the problems that arise from Sixapart's persistent meltdowns, we your friendly Apothegm Designers are offering a Wordpress conversion special - packages start at $150* for the platform installation, implementation, and design, so contact us if you are interested!
*This does not include hosting services, though we can provide recommendtions for reputable blog hosts.
Home alone
The missus is away for the better part of the weekend, hopefully coaching her basketball team to victory in a Christmas tournament. By default, I'm home, alone, a bachelor again. I'm thinking I'll need angioplasty before she gets back.
The theme for tonight’s meal: If it ain't fried it ain't food. On the menu Fatback, Fried Pork Chops, Fried Okra (See green veggies Ma!) and Fried Squash. Maybe a Spam sammich for snack.
Breakfast tomorrow: Country Sausage & Bacon from the local butcher, fried eggs and hash browns.
Tomorrow's trip to the butcher will determine tomorrow's lunch, dinner and snack.
Seasons Greetings
Since I don't have everybody in the blogidohexiweb's address I figured I'd send e-cards. As I was preparing to send out Seasons Greetings I stumbled upon this article on Yahoo News. Yes my faithful readers, all both of you, the title of said artile realy is: You've got mail, and maybe gonorrhea.
Seems there's a site inSPOT LA advocating the spreading of holiday cheer and warning folks of you've spread something else. So in their mailboxes they'll find:
Crabs for Kris
Syphilis for Samantha
Gonorrhea for Gail
Scabies for Scott
Herpes for Harriett
and
Molluscum Contagiosum (WTH is this a new one?) for Mary
Have I ever mentioned just how much I love the interweb?
(The "present" list links open up previews of the various cards available, all safe for work.)
Those Lonely Scottish Nights
Q: Why do Scotsmen wear Kilts.
A: So the sheep don't hear the zippers.
Yet when MuttonBone.com closed down millions of sheepish teens lost their place of refuge on the interweb.
Fret no more me laddies.
I've found just the thing (Probably Not Safe for Work) for those long, cold, lonely nights.
To the Scots in the crowd, no hard feelings.
Really, Love Ewe, mean it.
No bones about it, I feel baaaaaad about my comments.
Maynard G. Krebs has left the building
Beatniks worldwide are arranging protests due to the motivational speech I gave during a production meeting earlier today. I wasn't overly abusive, physically, I don't think, well maybe just a little.
As we laid out expectations, responsibilities, goals and deadlines for the next year you could see the wheels churning as the peasants began to revolt. Why should they be held accountable? Why should they have shedules to meet? What was in it for them?
My two word reply: Continued Employment.
But no, that wasn't good enough, why should they be expected to perform? They had to be given a reason. Yes dear readers they wanted purpose. And that is when the proverbial shit hit the fan. Think Bobby Knight, in a conference room, without the throwing of chairs, okay maybe one or two chairs were rearranged, but they were vacant.
As kind and polite as I try to be, I've come to a realization that a healthy dose of fear is required at times.
Sign up now ladies and gentlemens, I'll be lecturing all week on the Motivational Tactics Genghis Kahn. The cost: $35, you must provide your own sacrificial lamb, goat or sheep.
Blue balls
Talk about a serious case of blue balls.
Get your mind out of the gutter, the link is 100% safe for work.
Did you really think I'd post something that wasn't?
Survivor: Compton
Armhold Swartzenhopper has decided not to commute good ol' Tookie Williams's sentence.
In other new Jeff Probst, host of CBS's award winning game show Survivor, will be traveling a shorter distance to get to work next season. For the first time in the shows history it will be held in the continental United States, primarily on the streets of Compton a Los Angeles, California suburb.
Should the expected riots continue longer than a follow up season, Survivor: Inglewood may follow.
One down....
several more to go.
Earlier this week Ward Brewer of Beauchamp Tower Corporation and The Mexican Navy signed the official Document of Transfer Agreement for the transfer of the USS John Rodgers(aka E-01 CUITLAHUAC).
As Ward stated "It should be noted that this is the first time in history that the Mexican Government has donated a ship to a United States organization for a museum and the Mexican Navy takes this donation very seriously--as do we."
And so Ward's transcendence to the top of the Gun Blogging world begins. Sure there are folks with "Commie Cannons" and other large guns, but does anybody have a destoyer? I think not.
With USS John Rodgers is secure, it's time to hammer MARAD for trying to scrap the USS Howard Gilmore before it can be utilized to aid in hurricane relief. YOU can stop them with a call to your Senators and Congress people.
USS Orion (AS-18) left. USS Howard W. Gilmore (AS-16) in dazzle paint on Navy Day Celebration, Hudson River, October 27, 1945.
Our first post about Operation Enduring Service was almost a month ago and the calls you've made have helped. Things are progressing. However someone is standing in the way:
...yesterday I received an overnight letter informing me that we had until January 6, 2006 to tow the USS Howard W. Gilmore out of the fleet or they were going to scrap her. That is two months ahead of our donation hold schedule and only gives us two weeks to move her due to the Christmas holidays. MARAD knows that this is impossible and only offers this time because they know it can't be done--you can't get a tow company that fast during the holidays. This way, they can look like they are "trying to work with us" and still make sure we can't perform.
Individuals at the Maritime Administration (MARAD) are intentionally speeding up the process of trying to scrap a ship earmarked to be donated to a disaster recovery mission that has the stated goal of saving American lives.
Call your Senators and Congress people today.
Be sure to tell your elected representatives. that the men responsible for this travesty at MARAD are William H. Kahill, Deputy Director, Office of Ship Operations (202-366-1875 ext. 2122), and Eugene Magee, Division of Reserve Fleet Chief (202-366-5752 ext. 2112).
Give me a sign or symbol or something
There comes a time in almost every bloggers life when they want to display a special character or symbol in the content area of their posts. Maybe you're talking about the weather and want to tell folks up north at it's a comfortable 54° outside today, instead of typing out 54 degrees. Maybe you want to tell somebody they aren't worth 2¢, instead of typing out two cents. Maybe you're discussing something that has a Trademark™, a Copyright © or is Registered ®. To do this you'll need to enter special character or symbol code in HTML.
If your blogging platform doesn't have a WYSIWYG post editing window you can enter the HTML code directly into the post. If you're using Blogger, Typepad or the WYSIWYG editor available for Wordpress you'll need to switch to the Edit HTML mode of your post editor.
To display this sentence with the symbols we'll have to enter the HTML code for the Trademark and Copyright.
Maybe you're discussing something that has a Trademark™or a Copyright©.
The symbols are displayed in bold.
Maybe you're discussing something that has a Trademark™or a Copyright©.
Some of the symbols I commonly use are in the extended entry.
A full listing of the symbols and special characters can be found:
Alphabetically Listed Here
Categorically Listed Here
Additional Symbols and Greek Letters are available from HTMLHelp.com
HTMLHelp.com also has a section for special characters.
| Symbol | HTML Code |
| © | © |
| ® | ® |
| ™ | ™ |
| & | & |
| € | € |
| £ | £ |
| ¢ | ¢ |
| < | < |
| > | > |
| ° | ° |
| ¹ | ¹ |
| ² | ² |
| ³ | ³ |
Voting MuNuvian
I haven't mentioned much in the way of the Weblog Awards.
Quite a few of my fellow MuNuvians are in the running and could use a vote or two or three.
You'll find the complete (I Think) listing in the extended entry.
Best Group Blog
The Cotillion
Best Comic Blog
Hate Mongers Quarterly (Making the move shortly)
Best Conservative Blog
The Jawa Report
Ace Of Spades HQ
Best Culture Blog
The Llama Butchers
Best Parenting Blog
One Happy Dog Speaks
Best Canadian Blog, eh
Angry in the Great White North
Best Asian Blog
Simon World
Best of the Top 251 - 500 Blogs
Confederate Yankee
Ex-Donkey Blog
Straight White Guy
Best of the Top 501 - 1000 Blogs
Vince Aut Morire
Best of the Top 1001 - 1750 Blogs
Portia Rediscovered
Best of the Top 1751 - 2500 Blogs
Seven Inches of Sense
Trying to Grok
Travel
Earlier today several fellow airline passengers and I were discussing travel. They mentioned how they hated to fly out of the regional aeroport in town since the only flights available in or out are on small prop planes. Besides being a noisy, bumpy and cramped (for somebody of my height) ride the flights don't really bother me.
They of course mentioned how they don't feel as safe and sound in the prop plane as they do in the larger regional jets. They are of course the same guys that squeal like three year old girls every time a little turbulence is encountered.
I tried to offer comfort and words of wisdom to ease their minds. I've explained that time to go it's time to go.
It seems to help, until I wished them well and hoped that the bell doesn't ring for the pilot midflight.
A little...
Dear Minister of Propoganda,
Contrary to the rumors you've been spreading, this:
is not eight inches.
In light of this recent discovery, we've decided to pool our resources to purchase the shirt in the extended entry for you from t-shirt hell.
You should receive it just in time for Festivus.
Of natural disasters...
Don Surber is up in arms about Mississippi and Louisiana requesting additional federal funds to help recover from the Hurricanes that demolished their states several months back. He wants to know "What is wrong with Mississippi paying for the rebuilding of Mississippi? Ditto Louisiana."
Maybe he's forgotten the One Nation part of the pledge of allegiance that most grade school children learn at an early age. Maybe a simple economics lesson is called for considering a majority of the goods brought into our country come in from ports along the eastern seaboard, ports located in the dozen or so states that get hit by hurricanes.
Yes we happen to live in states that get hit by hurricanes every now an then. Care to take a guess how much the fresh fruit that is so readily available at your local grocery store would cost if the ports from Morehead City, North Carolina to Port Isabel, Texas weren't available? Surely you remember the price spike for a gallon of gasoline just a couple of months ago. I could keep going on about the economic value the coastal states bring into the country, let me know if you need a couple more examples.
When Mississippi lured companies to build casinos along the Gulf Coast, that was one of the factors in the negotiations. Last time I checked the casinos were a tiny portion of the income generate along the gulf coast. The seafood so readily available isn't being flown in from the Caribbean; it's coming from the hard working folks that live a couple of miles inland from the ocean, in modest housing away from the million dollar ocean front homes. I also don't recall FEMA sending checks to the casino companies, maybe I missed that news report.
Northern states take a few blizzards each winter. It is called weather. It happens. Please do tell me the last time a blizzard unleashed the energy of a ten megaton nuclear warhead every twenty minutes. As LostInLima likes to point out, she made a choice to live in Ohio and when an ice storm left thousands of people without power for over a week, really a whole week, she resigned to the fact that she'd made a choice to live there. What she's forgetting is that a large number of the utility workers that came in to repair the damaged electrical and telephone grid were from the dozen or so states often pounded by hurricanes. Why from the Atlantic seaboard states? Because we're the states familiar with staging and transporting our utility workers in the event a natural disaster occurs.
So yeah, maybe the best thing to do is let Mississippi and Louisiana fix this themselves with help from the rest of the Atlantic states, as the old saying goes: Lead. Follow. Or get the hell out of the way.
From your post Don I'm guessing the next time West Virginia starts flooding you don't want North Carolina to send their swift water recovery teams to rescue the residents that didn't evacuate? Flooding which also happens to be one of the most costly disasters in U.S. History. Maybe there is something to the folks crying about others hogging the spotlight.
The next time a natural disaster strikes we'll send our teams, we'll give our pay checks and we'll donate our time, not because we have to, but because we remember what it means to be neighbors and Americans, I just wish everybody did.
Don, do you really want to mention Misuse of Tax Payer Funds?
Communication breakdown
What we have here is a failure to communicate.
I have one customer at work that I'm unable to communicate with. He's the one client that invokes the full wrath of my Tourette's Syndrome. The bad part, he's about like Ward Cleaver. The nicest guy you've ever met and timid as a church mouse.
Our conversations are always on the brief side or riddled with him being placed on hold so I can take a deep breath, scream and slam my head against the desk a couple of times only to pick the phone up again and fight back the profanities.
Hell he even used the phrase "Gosh Golly" earlier today and then apologized for his rough language and paused as he placed a couple of dollars in their "Swear Jar". What the hell, Swear Jar??? All the while I'm fighting back the urge to let loose a string of profanities that would make the most seasoned sailor blush.
The bad part is I'm not quite sure what it is about the guy that makes my language so "colorful". The great news is during our most recent conversation he's mentioned working on-site with them for a couple of days. As in 18 - 20 hours in a 48 hour time period where I'd be shelling out more cash than a strip joint ATM. This may be the first consulting trip ever where it's ended up costing me money.
Damn.
Good Deeds Punished
Almost a month ago, Confederate Yankee got behind Operation Enduring Service, a frankly brilliant plan to convert a small group of mothballed Navy vessels into a state-of-the-art fleet of disaster response ships at absolutely zero cost. As a matter of fact, OES would save American taxpayers roughly $100 million dollars in costs associated with scrapping dozens of ships being sent overseas to be scrapped, and create thousands of shipyard jobs by scrapping and/or refitting those same ships here in the United States.
But someone is standing in the way:
...yesterday I received an overnight letter informing me that we had until January 6, 2006 to tow the USS Howard W. Gilmore out of the fleet or they were going to scrap her. That is two months ahead of our donation hold schedule and only gives us two weeks to move her due to the Christmas holidays. MARAD knows that this is impossible and only offers this time because they know it can't be done--you can't get a tow company that fast during the holidays. This way, they can look like they are "trying to work with us" and still make sure we can't perform.
Individuals at the Maritime Adminstration (MARAD) are intentionally speeding up the process of trying to scrap a ship earmarked to be donated to a disaster recovery mission that has the stated goal of saving American lives.
Call your Senators and Congressman today.
Be sure to tell your elected representatives. that the men responsible for this travesty at MARAD are William H. Kahill, Deputy Director, Office of Ship Operations (202-366-1875 ext. 2122), and Eugene Magee, Division of Reserve Fleet Chief (202-366-5752 ext. 2112).
This must not stand.
A Long December
Looks like the month of December just got a whole lot longer. At least we'll always have Paris in spring Vegas in summer.
Yes, there's a meaning behind the title of this post.
Something to be proud of
Yes ladies and gentlemen (and I use that phrase loosely) of all my achievements in life I may cherish this the most.
This humble weblog is the number one google search for
lacy midget stripper.
My work here is almost complete.
The Eskimo and I
I've determined that my wife being pregnant is turning her into an Eskimo. An Eskimo that enjoys spending time in a sauna.
Now since the wife says I tend exaggerate and if I've told her one I've told her a million times I'm not embellishing these stories one bit. So I figured it best to give y'all some background information. When it comes to indoor temperatures I like to keep it fairly constant, in the warmer months the thermostat is set on 70°, in the cooler months somewhere between 67° and 70°.
The girls (and by girls I mean programmers and by programmers I mean smelly computer geeks) at the office are constantly fussing about it being to cold. I of course laugh and tell'em if they had a normal diet, something other than Cheetos, Coffee and energy drinks, their bodies would function normally.
It seems however, that learning first hand what they're always bitching about. As the lovely bride's time of being "with child" has progressed her sense of comfortable temperatures has also managed to take some pretty wild swings and they're only getting more erratic. One minute she's donned clothes enough to face sub-arctic temperatures, two minutes later she's stripped down to shorts and a t-shirt and is talking about it being hotter than forty hells. All the while I'm sitting on the couch, eating Cheetos and drinking a Rockstar energy drink, wondering if she's going to find a happy medium, temperature wise.
The past several nights the happy medium has been found. It's called she controls the thermostat. When we've gone anywhere she's cranked the heat up in the Oto-mo-biiile so high I'm sweating like its mid-July in Death Valley as she shivers along. As soon as we reach the house, she's hot, it's winter and we're running the A/C. When the icicles start forming in places where icicles ought not be its just too damned cold.
When I start bitching she of course plays the whole I'm pregnant with YOUR child card. Right like that's gonna have any, hey wait a second it works every time. Damn, I'm so easily manipulate and you wimmins are so damned crafty.
Thus as a prospective father I'll begin prematurely by blaming the boy. I'm pretty sure Junior's going to have a great since of humor and will be mechanically inclined as he's already having a field day toying with her internal thermostat. I've asked Junior to leave her thermostat alone, begged even, yet it appears he'll have her ability to listen as I've been repeatedly ignored. Of course my life of requesting Junior stop fooling with the Thermostat and anything else he's not supposed to play with is probably just beginning.
Note to the Parental Units: You may stop giggling at any moment now, it really ain't that funny, I'm DYING OVER HERE, there's frostbite even.
Hanging up my spurs
Due to some recent developments time has become an awfully scare resource around my neck of the woods. The past nine moths have been a great ride. I've had loads of fun covering a lot of topics and I've hopefully provided a laugh or two along the way. I've met some new people, both figuratively and literally, that I'm honored to refer to as friends.
Yet as I mentioned time is an all to valuable commodity around my neck of the woods these days so something's got to give and by give I mean go. I kicked around the decision for a couple of weeks and there isn't anything else I can figure out. So I've got to hang up the spurs. Well a set of them anyhow.
Since I'm unable to devote the time to form coherent statements about the topics being covered by the Men's Club and Demystifying Diva's I'm stepping back.
You'll still be able to get your fix from the men's club from on Thursdays Jamesyboy, the Naked Villains and Stiggy.
And the ladies can be found posting on Thursdays at Villains Vanquished, Just Breathe, and Who Moved My Truth.
For now I'll still be 'round here, hopefully, if the wolves and pajamahadine don't get to me. And remember if I turn up missing it's because I know too much.
Secure
It's only because I'm ubersecure in my sexuality that I'll can announce that I am currently listening to: Ultimate Air Supply.
Up next, maybe a bit of Journey or perhaps some Chicago.
