But I don’t want bigger breasts.
So, our local public television station finally got around to airing the first episode of this Masterpiece Theater drama, and Blondie and I taped it, and saved to watch on a night when there is nothing, but nothing intelligent on.
Just as they were about to reveal the nature of the parsons’ unsavory adventure in the fo’c’sle, I burst out laughing and said to Blondie “Oh my gawd, it’s “Buggery on the Bounty”!
Fortunately, she does know who Cheech and Chong are… anyone else remember that skit?
And as long as I am into low humor, I have to re-post these re-makes of romance novel covers. You’re welcome, I live to serve.
Attention members of African Royalty/Govnernment who want to put a lot of money in my bank account: Stop calling me “Dear.” We just don’t know each other well enough.
and 5-6-7-8 Up and strettttch, prance-prance-prance, prance-prance-prance, nudge the man’s elbow, nudge the man’s elbow. Sit, look cute, pant-pant-pant.”Help” the man put on his shoes, nudge-nudge-nudge. Sit and wait for leash. Leash is clipped and bound for the door.
Walk-walk-walk, sniff-sniff-sniff, walk-walk-walk, sniff-sniff…plie’ and piddle. Leap away, run-run, STOP, darn leash. Walk-walk-walk, sniff-sniff-sniff, walk-walk-walk, sniff-sniff…gran plie’ and fart and pooooooooop, turn-turn-turn, gran plie’ and poooooop, turn, gran plie’ and poop and kick-kick-kick and BOUND away, run and stop, look at man, pant-pant-pant, head for home.
Wow, I completely missed the fact that it was International Talk Like a Pirate Day.
I guess that’s what happens when you have a job and you can’t read blogs until you get home.
If folks were really all that against socialism and all that other commie, pinko stuff, they’d be working today instead of lazing about in their sweats and Target-bought Led Zepplin t-shirts.
A bit too close to home isn’t it? Yeah, me too.
(The following is one of those e-mail things that go around: it just seemed to be an interesting coincidence that a friend sent it to me, just when Timmer’s Miko re-appeared, and my own Spike and Percy seemed to be fast becoming very, very good friends… not that there’s anything wrong with that!)
EXCERPTS FROM A DOG’S DAILY DIARY:
8:00 a.m. Oh, boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9:30 a.m. Wow! A car ride! This is a blast
9:40 a.m. A walk in the park! Ate some crap…Delicious!
10:30 a.m. Getting rubbed and petted! I’m in love!
12:00 p.m. Lunch! Yummy!
1:00 p.m. Playing in the yard! I just love it!
3:00 p.m. Staring adoringly at my masters…they’re the best! I’ll wag
my tail in joy.
4:00 p.m. Hooray! The kids are home! I’m bouncing off the walls!
5:00 p.m. Milk bones! Great!
7:00 p.m. Get to play ball! This is too good to be true!
8:00 p.m. Wow! Watching TV with my master! Heavenly!
11:00 p.m. Sleeping at the bottom of my master’s bed! Life is soooooooo
great!
More »
Via Wizbang.
And I thought the President just listened to two kinds of music, Country and Western. Sunday Bloody Sunday.
I’m thinkin’ this will give Pablo nightmares.
Get this video and more at MySpace.com
Via Althouse.
I don’t agree with her on this one.
Oh it’s clever. But not being a “morning person,” I have to say that it disturbs me on a fundamental level. I don’t have “a happy morning” until at least two cups of coffee and some time.
Although…I do like that brand of coffee and really like the handle built into the plastic can.
This collection was sent to me by a blog-fan, it’s one of those things that go the rounds, but funny and apt, nonetheless.
A slipping gear could let your M203 grenade launcher fire when you least expect it. That would make you quite unpopular in what’s left of your unit.”
– Army’s magazine of preventive maintenance ..
———————————————————–
“Aim toward the Enemy.”
– Instruction printed on US Rocket Launcher
———————————————————–
“When the pin is pulled, Mr. Grenade is not our friend.
– U.S. Marine Corps
———————————————————–
“Cluster bombing from B-52s is very, very accurate. The bombs are absolutely guaranteed to hit the ground.”
– USAF Ammo Troop
——————————————————-
“If the enemy is in range, so are you.”
– Infantry Journal
——————————————————-
“It is generally inadvisable to eject directly over the area you just bombed.”
– U.S. Air Force Manual
——————————————————-
“Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword obviously never encountered automatic weapons.”
– General MacArthur
———————————————————–
“Try to look unimportant; they may be low on ammo.”
– Infantry Journal
————————————————! ——–
“You, you, and you … Panic. The rest of you, come with me.”
– U.S. Marine Corp Gunnery Sgt.
——————————————————–
“Tracers work both ways.”
– U.S. Army Ordnance
——————————————————–
“Five second fuses only last three seconds.”
– Infantry Journal
——————————————————
“Don’t ever be the first, don’t ever be the last, and don’t ever volunteer to do anything.”
– U.S. Navy Swabbie
———————————————————
“Bravery is being the only one who knows you’re afraid.”
– David Hackworth
———————————————————-
“If your attack is going too well, you’re walking into an ambush.”
– Infantry Journal
——————————————————–
“No combat-ready unit has ever passed inspection.”
– Joe Gay
———————————————————-
“Any ship can be a minesweeper … once.”
– Anonymous
——————————————————–
“Never tell the Platoon Sergeant you have nothing to do.”
– Unknown Marine Recruit
——————————————————-
“Don’t draw fire; it irritates the people around you.”
– Your Buddies
——————————————————-
“If you see a bomb technician running, follow him.”
– USAF Ammo Troop
——————————————————–
“Though I Fly Through the Valley of Death , I Shall Fear No Evil. For I am at 80,000 Feet and Climbing.”
– At the entrance to the old SR-71 operating base Kadena , Japan
—————————————————–
“You’ve never been lost until you’ve been lost at Mach 3.”
– Paul F. Crickmore (test pilot)
———————————————————
“The only time you have too much fuel is when you’re on fire.”
——————————————————
“Blue water Navy truism: There are more planes in the ocean than submarines in the sky.”
– From an old carrier sailor
——————————————————-
“If the wings are traveling faster than the fuselage, it’s probably a helicopter — and therefore, unsafe.”
——————————————————
“When one engine fails on a twin-engine airplane you always have enough power left to get you to the scene of the crash.”
——————————————————
“Without ammunition, the USAF would be just another expensive flying club.”
——————————————————
“What is the similarity between air traffic controllers and pilots? If a pilot screws up, the pilot dies; If ATC screws up, …. the pilot dies.”
——————————————————–
“Never trade luck for skill.”
——————————————————
“Weather forecasts are horoscopes with numbers.”
——————————————————-
Airspeed, altitude and brains. Two are always needed to successfully complete the flight.”
——————————————————-
“A smooth carrier landing is mostly luck; two in a row is all luck; three in a row is prevarication.”
—————————————————–
“Mankind has a perfect record in aviation; we never left one up there!”
——————————————————
“Flashlights are tubular metal containers kept in a flight bag for the purpose of storing dead batteries.”
——————————————————–
“Flying the airplane is more important than radioing your plight to a person on the ground incapable of understanding or doing anything about it.”
——————————————————–
“When a flight is proceeding incredibly well, something was forgotten.”
——————————————————-
“Just remember, if you crash because of weather, your funeral will be held on a sunny day.”
——————————————————–
Advice given to RAF pilots during WWII: “When a prang (crash) seems inevitable, endeavor to strike the softest, cheapest object in the vicinity as slow and gently as possible.”
——————————————————-
“The Piper Cub is the safest airplane in the world; it can just barely kill you.”
– Attributed to Max Stanley (Northrop test pilot)
——————————————————–
“A pilot who doesn’t have any fear probably isn’t flying his plane to its maximum.”
– Jon McBride, astronaut
———————————————————–
“If you’re faced with a forced landing, fly the thing as far into the crash as possible.”
– Bob Hoover (renowned aerobatic and test pilot)
———————————————————–
Never fly in the same cockpit with someone braver than you.”
——————————————————-
“There is no reason to fly through a thunderstorm in peacetime.”
– Sign over squadron ops desk at Davis-Monthan AFB, AZ, 1970
——————————————————–
“If something hasn’t broken on your helicopter, it’s about to.”
——————————————————-
Basic Flying Rules: “Try to stay in the middle of the air. Do not go near the edges of it. The edges of the air can be recognized by the appearance of ground, buildings, sea, trees and interstellar space. It is much more difficult to fly there.”
——————————————————–
“You know that your landing gear is up and locked when it takes full power to taxi to the terminal.”
———————————————————
As the test pilot climbs out of the experimental aircraft, having torn off the wings and tail in the crash landing, the crash truck arrives, the rescuer sees a bloodied pilot and asks “What happened?”.
The pilot’s reply: “I don’t know, I just got here myself!”
– Attributed to Ray Crandell (Lockheed test pilot )
Add your own personal favorites in the comments…
So our relatively new computer starts making growling noises last night, right before I had to get to bed in order to wake up early to continue working off the flab I managed to put on at my last assignment. (20 pounds in 2 months thank you very much.) So when I got off work tonight I popped the case open, hoping and praying that it’s just a little dust and not a power supply getting ready to take a dive and OMFG THE INSIDE OF MY COMPUTER IS FURRY! I could knit another cat with the fur that’s accumulated in there.
So I power off the ‘puter pull out the Kirby Supersucker (a 2000 model that’s still working better than anything else I’ve ever paid that much for), attach the hose and begin to suck out the fur that has managed to accumulate in every nook and cranny of the box paying particular attention to the power supply fan, the CPU fan, and the fan that blows across the motherboard. I also got the bear rug that had formed on the bottom of the computer. Okay. Should be good now.
I leave the case open because…well because to close it would be a sure fire way to ensure that I’d have to open it again. It’s sort of a rule. I power up the box again and…no growl…no growl…everything is sounding right. All the fans are running at full capacity with great air flow. Cool. I go to put the cover back on the case and GROWLLLlllllllllllllllllllllllllll. I knew it.
Okay, where the hell is that coming from? I turn off the box again and hit all the fans with the vacuum again. I power it back up: GROWWWWWLLLLllllllllllllll. Instead of turning it off I start poking and prodding around with a finger. By the way, important safety tip, even though those fans are low powered and plastic, they really kinda hurt when you poke your finger in them when they’re running. None of the fans are vibrating…but if I could figure out how to hook the video card up to a bed, I could put magic fingers out of business.
So I undo the screw and pop the…pop the…push the little thingy that allows me to pop the card out and…exactly how can there be that much fur stuck in that teensy weensie little fan? That shouldn’t be possible. It’s like compressed fur. It’s fur concentrate. Hit that with the vacuum and…it doesn’t more. It’s staying there. Okay, take out the jeweler’s screwdriver set take out the tiniest screwdriver and see if I can’t…CLUNK. Okay, it’s more than fur concentrate, it’s now the Kevlar of cat fur. Okay, maybe I can get under it…and nowwwww…it exploded? The fur is now the consistency of…fur. Apply vacuum and it’s all gone.
I go to put the card back in it’s slot and…sigh…the slot is furry. Vacuum and it’s all gone. Anything else? I shine the flashlight all around. No more apparent fur.
I pop the…I pop the…I push the little thingy that lets you pop the card back into the slot. Screw the card back in. Plug the monitor back in, start the computer…ahhhhhhhhhh, no growl. I wait five minutes, still no growl. NOW I put the cover back on the case and all is good.
Cats.
UPDATE: Right before bed last night…GRRRROOOOWWWLLLllllllllllll.
Funny video from a couple of guys in country. I guess they get SNL there.
I took off the streaming video because it was beginning to annoy me and it wouldn’t let me set it up to do anything but autoplay.
You scored as Cheshire Cat. You love to make no sense. You’re a smart aleck and love to play pranks on people. Confusing people to the point of frustration is your main goal in life.
|
Which Alice in Wonderland Character are YOU?
created with QuizFarm.com
Klansmen or commies?
Discuss.
Oh give me a home,
Got that covered. We got into base housing within a week and I still feel icky that I get this many square feet because of my rank and one son while airmen with a pregnant wife have to wait until she actually has the baby to get a decent place to live on base. Off base seems nice but it’s expensive. Something about a jumping mouse living where developers want to build. Sigh.
Where the buffalo roam,
I don’t know about roam, but there’s plenty of buffalo in the meat section of the commisary and at WalMart. Tastes a lot like beef, but buffer.
And the deer and the antelope play,
Haven’t seen any deer myself but the antelope sure are feisty. What’s interesting is when they decide to head straight for the road en masse and don’t look like they’re going to stop. Since they’re protected on base, they have the right of way and I guess it’s your fault if they hit you. The First Sergeant says that he’s never seen that pushed, but for the love of all that’s holy, don’t YOU hit one.
Where never is heard a discouraging word,
Oh give me a freaking break. It’s an Air Force Base for goshsakes!
And the skies are not cloudy all day.
Well not all day. That seems to be true. It may be cloudy one minute and clear the next and then raining like hell in another few minutes and then there was the snow storm earlier in the week that came right after a 75 degree day…but no, not cloudy all day at all.
On an entirely different track and while I’ve still got your attention…it could happen… When did airmen get both so dumb and so smart? Seriously, there are some amazingly smart young folks that I’m meeting, but there are also some incredibly stupid ones wandering around. And what’s all this “Sir.” stuff? When did that become normal? I was only on J-Staff for eight years but there’s an entire generation of young folks, both smart and stupid, calling me “Sir” with a big smile on their faces.
And in the name of Mohammed on a Moped (PBUH) when did Lieutenants get so damn YOUNG? I swear one I talked to today doesn’t have to shave more than twice a week yet.
But I digress. It’s good to be back on the front range of the rockies. Comforting. Amazing skies. Prarie dogs frolicking happily on the road right before a semi flattens them into furry pizzas.
Sighhhhhhhhhhhh Home.
What happens when you test a fire retardant foam system “for just 15 seconds” and it doesn’t shut off? Apparently you can fill an entire hangar with the stuff. The guy in the photo is about 30 feet up on a scaffoding.
Click on the photo for the entire set over at The Cellar.
via Boing-Boing.
We’re literally in the middle of a PCS (Permanent Change of Station) move. We’re a bit more than halfway between where we were and where we’re going. This is my ninth move in 22 years. I hate moving.
Watching all your stuff being packed away and put on a van is distressing. Especially if any of the good stuff you’ve collected over the years have survived previous moves. You wonder if it’s going to make it this time. You wonder if the recliners you finally found that fit your body are going to be crushed out of shape. You wonder if that great cat tree you picked up with your last adopted furball is going to still have all its limbs. You wonder if they understand how much you really like your sound system.
Then there’s the military silliness that goes with a military move. For instance: The quarters we were living in are going to be completely renovated now that we’re out of them. Yet we still had to clean them as if someone was moving in tomorrow. When I say completely renovated I mean they’re going to tear out the guts; they’re going to rip out the plumbing, completely rewire the shorty electricity, trash the cupboards, and put in new floors and/or carpet. Yet still, we had to clean as if Sgt Snuffy was going to move in right after we vacated. It was hard. There’s something about doing pointless labor that kills a part of your soul. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve always left a place better than we found it. We pride ourselves in that. It’s just cleaning that well after sticking our heads into the house next door that’s in the process of being renovated, had us talking to ourselves. I don’t understand why I’m fine cleaning cupboards that are going to wind up in a dumpster as soon as the contractors get to them. A good wipe should have been sufficient.
I’ve been lucky in my career. I’ve always had bosses that gave me a week or two to get all the various and sundry paperwork done. This involves a treasure hunt of appointments around various offices on base that you may or may not have had anything to do with during your stay there. I have no problem outprocessing the library, I use the library. I had a bit of a problem with outprocessing the COMSEC (Communications Security) office. I didn’t have an account. I wasn’t responsible (for once) for any crypto gear. Yet I still had to stop by and have them look in their computer and say, “Yep, you’re right, you have nothing on file.” I asked why that couldn’t have been taken care of with a phone call. Airman Snuffy sort of scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders the way Airmen have been doing for generations. I just nodded. I’ve been through the same ol’ too many times to get my blood pressure up for that one.
Dog tags! Do you know that in the year 2006 you have to have a set of dog tags on your person when you PCS? I don’t think anyone’s asked for my dog tags since 1990 when I went to Saudi. Luckily, to my thinking, not Beautiful Wife’s, I don’t throw anything away. I still have my dog tags from 1990 tucked away in a thick card-stock 6-tabbed mobility folder with ziplock pockets. They’re right next to my last 522 from 1998 when I shot expert again on the M16 using the NATO course of fire (that’s the hard one in case you were wondering, and yes I’m proud of the fact I can shoot straight). Someone tried to tell me where to go to find the office that makes dogtags, somewhere near the flightline, just past and around Wing Safety…what? Why doesn’t personnel make them anymore? “Oh, we contracted that out.” Blink-blink. Because stamping someone’s name, branch of service, social, blood type and religious affiliation into aluminum requires a level of skill beyond the average personnel specialist’s comprehension?!!! Breath, blood pressure, breath. Hell I used to make them in my Orderly Room when I was a brand new two-striper because our unit was so damn big.
Training records. Yeah, those of you who have been paying attention and are in the Air Force know that Master Sergeants don’t need no stinking training records. That’s no longer true…at least not for my career field. Our functional manager decided we were special. (Let the little school-bus jokes fly, I have.) He decided that we needed to maintain our training records until we achieved our nine skill level. I don’t know why. I think he thinks he’s doing us a favor.
All of that got done though and now we’re on the road. I love and hate being on the road. The fact that we’re running I-80 Westbound makes me very happy. Tomorrow we’ll see mountains and buttes and prarie. The fact that Nebraska seems like the widest state in the union makes me crazy. I feel like I’m in a scene from Twister. “Cow.” “Another cow.” “Wait, I think that’s the same cow.” Every town in Nebraska along I-80 seems to be exactly the same as the other. Three exits surrounded by silos. All the silos look the same to me. Mom and Dad would either be proud or disappointed, hard to say.
But there’s an excitement to being in the middle of a PCS. New challenges. New things to do. New people to meet. New weirdness to overcome. New beginnings. This is the part of moving that makes the rest of it bearable. The anticipation.
Yeah, I know it’s going to be the same as any other place, only different, but leave me my delusions, ‘k?
…welcome our puppycat overlords.
One of the comments noted: “Feh. Call me when they make a dog that acts like a cat.”
Consider yourself called, sir. I have a dog that seems to think it is a cat; the Lesser Weevil spends a lot of time sucking up to the cats, attempting to get the cats to play with her, trying to curl her 50lb body up on the same surfaces and perch on the same spaces that the cats occupy, and spending most of the day sleeping and snoring/purring.
I can’t get her to use the damned litterbox, though. Pity
No particular reason other than I haven’t annoyed a Scientologist all week and I’m feeling left out.
You know, Scientology is becoming a lot like Islam for me. I would have been quite content had I never heard of it, and what I do hear of it completely creeps me out. Actually, on the creepiness scale, Scientology out-creeps Islam. Islam’s more…anachronistic. You wonder how people managed to get stuck in the middle-ages with Islam. With Scientology, I’m once again reminded of the kids in high school who did too much acid and spent the day chanting “Corn flakes!” and playing with their hands in front of their faces. The ones with the DeadHead T-Shirt and did things with a Frisbee that would freak out the physics teacher? I think they all got straight, grew up, and became Scientologists. Only now they’re even weirder than when they were having their own private concerts in and outside their head during homeroom, shroom, vroom, ba-boom, shadooby…yeah…like that.
Take a leprachaun to lunch.
Over at Cox and Forkum.
I’ve been in the dentist’s chair a lot in the past month or so and Thursday they “extracted” (climbed up on my head and RIPPED) a tooth out of my head. Had a relatively good weekend and then this morning they “removed the temporary bridge” (used pliars to crush, break and pinch pieces of acrylic) from my mouth.
The drugs have taken the edge off but at the same time, they tend to bend the line between what I find funny and what the rest of the world may find funny. Of course, I bend that line all the time, but I’d rather do it when it’s my own sense of humor being naturally skewed vs having a vicodin derivitive “helping” me out.
For instance, when I heard that Saddam had ended his hunger strike, my first thought was, “Does that mean he’s back to eating Kurds and whey?”
See…that kills me, but I’m guessing the rest of you are thinking, “Okayyyyyyy, Tim needs a nap.”
So I’ll take one.
That’s the Fourth Annual International Eat a Tasty Animal for PETA Day.
March 15th. Mark your calanders. If it’s warm, I’ll cook out, if not, we’ll head to a local BBQ.
Via Meryl Yourish who’s looking for a banner to promote the day.