it comes in pints?

Four funerals and a wedding

Actually, it's more like five funerals and a mockery of those funerals.

I got a great response to my self-made meme. 100% participation, in fact. As you will recall, I copped out on the "make up your own category". I really just couldn't think of a good category. Well, Dearest Rave, in her wonderful Clan Rossiness, gave me an idea for a good category. I wanted to pick only four, but I just couldn't stop there so I picked five plus the necessary comeback for them.

And so, without further ado, I give you my picks for The Sappiest Teenage Death Chants of All Time:

#5. Leader of the Pack: The Shangri-Las

In fairness, this one isn't so much sappy as just dumb, but I just had to comment on it. Dude, "Poor boy meets rich girl" is only romantic if (a) they actually end up being together, or (b) they both die (which is not so much romantic as just ... dumb). Running out and getting yourself killed because the chick tossed you over is just ... flat-ass fucking stupid. Any real, self-respecting, leather-wearing, cycle-riding, teenage-rebel-Hells-Angel-wannabe would have beaten the bitch to death and then been killed in a gunbattle with the cops.

Pussy.

#4. The Last Kiss: J. Frank Wilson

This one is the least offensive of the main genre.

Oh where oh where can my baby be

Um, in Heaven maybe?

The Lord took her away from me
She's gone to heaven so got to be good
So I can see my baby when I leave this world

Answered your own question.

So anyway, boy and girl go on a date, get in a car wreck, girl spits blood in their "last kiss" (okay, I made that spitting part up), guy wants to wait until he gets to heaven to see her. Yeah, whatever man. Wait until you get to college and the hormone overload starts make the balls ache. Yeah, you'll keep on waiting. "Whoaaa-oh-whoaa-oh-whoaaa, damn my balls hurt…"

#3. Teen Angel: Mark Dinning

Getting sappier and moving on from "foolish, romantic teenager" to "let the psycho bitch go and count your blessings".

That fateful night the car was stalled
upon the railroad track
I pulled you out and we were safe
but you went running back

And you're too dumb to recognize a nutjob. She goes running back into the path of an oncoming train to retrieve a fucking ring. Psycho chick like that was liable to go Lorena Bobbitt on him somewhere down the line if she hadn't whacked herself with the train. "Nut"job, indeed.

#2. Patches: Dickie Lee

Another "Poor boy loves rich girl" ... Or other way around, in this case.

We plan to marry when June brought the summer
I couldn't wait to make Patches my bride
Now I don't see how that ever can happen
My folks say No, and my heart breaks inside

Uh, yeahhh. You're a fucking teenager, still living at home, being supported by Mommy and Daddy. You get married when you have your own place and your own job. NOT at McDonald's, preferably.

I hear a neighbor tellin' my father
He said a girl name of Patches was found
Floating face down in that dirty old river

Why in the hell do all these dumbass teenagers think it's romantic to kill yourself for love?

It may not be right But I'll join you tonight
Patches I'm coming to you.

Like I said. Romeo and Juliet is responsible for more dead teenagers than whiskey and car keys combined.

#1. Tell Laura I love Her: Ray Peterson

If it weren't for the way Peterson sings this one, with the broken voice as if he's crying, it really wouldn't be any sappier or more dreckful than any of the others. But he does and it is.

Laura and Tommy were lovers
He wanted to give her everything
Flowers, presents and most of all, a wedding ring

Well, isn't that nice.

He saw a sign for a stock car race
A thousand dollar prize it read

WTF? A thousand dollars for a wedding ring in, like, 1960 dollars? For a teenage brat that has no job? If this were my kid, I'd beat the crap out of him and send his ass to bootcamp.

Tell Laura I love her, tell Laura I need her
Tell Laura I may be late
I've something to do, that cannot wait

Yeah, like die.

No one knows what happened that day
How his car overturned in flames

Well I know what happened. Dumbass teenager who can barely drive gets into a car race and gets his ass killed. Darwin in action.

Tell Laura I love her, tell Laura I need her
Tell Laura not to cry
My love for her will never die

Uh, beg to differ, kid.

And in the chapel where Laura prays
For Tommy who passed away
It was just for Laura he lived and died
Alone in the chapel she can hear him cry

So the chick's hearing dead people. Great. She'll probably throw herself in front of a train too.

Okay, on to happier themes. Like mockery of the Teenage Death Chants.

I Want My Baby Back: Jimmy Cross (who apparently couldn't stand the Teenage Death Chants either)

The entire set of lyrics, in all their mocking glory:

I want my baby back
Gotta have my baby back
I miss her oh so much
Can't live without her touch

[Spoken]
I don't hardly know where to begin. I remember we were cruising home from the Beatles concert. I'd had such a wonderful evening, sitting there watching my baby screaming, and tearing her hair out, and carrying on. She was so full of life. Then, well, we were about three miles from home when all of a sudden it started to rain. And I do mean rain. I couldn't hardly see nothing. Well, we kept driving for about another mile when all of a sudden I see this stalled car right smack in front of me. Well, I wasn't about to slam on the brakes 'cause I didn't have none to start with. So I swerved to the left. And what do I see - some mushhead on a motorcycle headin' right at us. And I knew at last me and my baby were about to meet the leader of the

[Crash sounds]

pack.

Well, when I come to, I looked around
And there was the leader
And there was the pack
And over there was my baby
And over there was my baby
And waaaayyy over there was my baby

I want my baby back
Gotta have my baby back
I miss her oh so much
Can't live without her touch

[Spoken]
It's been many months now since that fateful night. And you know something, I've tried. Believe me, I have tried. But I just can't make it without my baby.

[Digging sounds in background]

So I've decided I'm going to have her back one way or another. Oh, baby, I dig you so much.

[Digging sounds continue, then the sound of metal hitting wood]

Hot dang, pay dirt!

[Creaking sound of hinges opening, then a "door" closing]

[Muffled]
I've got my baby back
Now, I've got my baby back
I love her oh so much
Can't live without her touch

I've got my baby back

This was one of the best songs ever featured on Dr. Demento.

Are you ready for some Football?

Well I'm not. Baseball's more my thang. But for those of you who love to kick around the old virtual pigskin, Hoodlumman has started up a college football pick'em league, and he's kicking in $10 American of Rob's money to the winner.

Go Trojans.

Plastic Edible Turkey

We at Pints have always known our good buddy Mr. Bingley was a little off color, but it appears as though he has now gone completely batshit.

Now I'm really suspicious

So this little brouhahahahahaha[slap] struck me as really pointless and stupid, even if true. But as the Manolo says (paraphrased), "It's not that she's unattractive, it's that she's an irritating, perky little shit who grates on that last good nerve."

Still, upon reflection, it occurred to me that this may be a bigger issue than I originally thought. In the wake the recent Roto-Reuters scandals, a question has occurred to me:

Has someone been photoshopping Oprah Winfrey all these years?

R.I.P Glenn Ford

Glenn Ford, 1916-2006

Trivia Question (updated

UPDATE: Bill found one. Any more?

Actually, that implies I have an answer. I don't. I'm just curious.

The "Law and Order" discussion here makes me wonder: Aside from the original "Law and Order", is there any television show in which not a single one of the original characters lasted the entire run of the show? (NOTE: I'm excluding sketch shows and such; obviously, SNL had several complete cast changes, but I mean shows with actual regular characters).

I can't think of any.

For "Law and Order", the last original character to leave was the D.A., Adam Schiff (Steven Hill) in 2000. Some of the characters have recurred since. As Dave notes, two are on other L&O franchises and ADA Robinette made at least one return appearance as a defense lawyer on L&O.

Some almost-complete changes:

"NYPD Blue": Sipowicz and Medavoy were the only characters to last the entire run (12 seasons)

"M*A*S*H*": Hawkeye and Hot Lips (Klinger was an almost, he was a one-line gag in episode 4 that turned into a regular character)

"All in the Family": Archie and Edith

There have also been few shows in which the entire concept of the show changed and they only kept one or two characters (the one with Ellen Degeneres, e.g.). I guess that might still count as the "same show", but I don't think any lasted very long in any of their incarnations.

That's all I have for now. Continue the discussion in the comments, especially if you can think of any show in which all of the characters were eventually replaced.

Hmmm...there's a lot left

I know it's old, but here's my map of the countries I've visited:

create your own visited country map

Here's the visited US states map (and as above, just passing through an airport doesn't count):

create your own personalized map of the USA

Since Ernesto was a joke, I have no worries about whether I'll be flying to DC tomorrow or not, but these maps make me want to travel more, and to places where I haven't been already.

Making up my own meme

UPDATE and bump: Okay, I've added mine. Mock me if you must. You will notice some overlap amongst categories. I'm also hiding it in the extended entry to save front page space

No doubt someone has done one like it (or very close), but memes gotta start somewhere I suppose. And since internet memes seem to go in fours, (royal) we shall do likewise. Nothing earth-shattering, just a meme about popular (or unpopular music).

Four songs that you could listen to over and over:
Sloop John B: The Beach Boys (GAWD I love this song!)
Old Time Rock and Roll: Bob Segar
Heartache Tonight: The Eagles
When I'm Sixty-Four: The Beatles

Four songs that drive you up the friggin' wall:
Honey: Bobby Goldsboro (see below for exactly why)
Third Rate Romance: Amazing Rhythm Aces. GAWD I hope none of you remembers this vile abomination that hit the airwaves in the early 70s. If you remember it, please commiserate with me.
Disco Duck: No idea who did this steaming turd, but it was bad even by disco standards.

Okay, it's really cheating to cite a disco song since there are so many to choose from. With that in mind, I will keep the disco list to only one song, so the number one song of all time that drives me up the goddam, motherfuckin' wall:

Afternoon Delight: Starland Vocal Band. Barf. Puke. Projectile vomiting with simultaneous dysentery. I love a good risqué song, but I have hated this putrid piece of crap since the day it first hit the airwaves. In high school, when I drove an old Pontiac with only AM radio, I had five stations programmed on the buttons. One day, every single one of those stations had this song on at the same time. Fuckers. I turned off the radio and almost put my fist through it. (And all due respect to the lovely Lisa, but BUWAAAAAHHHHhhhhh!)

Four songs that you're embarrassed (or should be) to admit you like:
Daisy a Day: Judd Strunk. Embodies all the things I shouldn't like in a song, but I love it.
Seasons in the Sun: Terry Jacks. Ibid. Not idea why I like it but I do.
Watching Scotty Grow: Bobby Goldsboro. Treacle, but it touched me even before I had kids.
Puff the Magic Dragon: Peter, Paul, and Mary. Again, I probably should dislike this on several levels but I love it.

Four best driving songs:
Midnight Special: Creedence
Roll on Down the Highway: BTO. Not my favorite band, but this one's a gem.
Born to be Wild: Steppenwolf. Not originally a motorcycle song, at least, not before Easy Rider.

And the number one:

Goin' Up Country: Canned Heat. Not a "driving" song in the usual sense of the word, not even a great song in the usual sense of the word, but it's the one I shove into the CD player when I'm heading north to the ranch (especially at deer season) to get away from the bay area..

Four songs that make you cry:
Honey: Bobby Goldsboro. For which he should be killed with extreme prejudice. I hate this song but I tear up when it comes on the fucking radio. Die, you bastard. Fortunately, even the oldies stations don't play it much anymore.
Puff the Magic Dragon: Peter, Paul, and Mary.
Will the Circle Be Unbroken: By anybody. Anyone who has lost their mother will understand.
Parnell Square: Sidesaddle. Any of you that have read my posts for any length of time know how much I love this song.

Four best risqué songs:
A Goose for My Girl: Benny Bell. If you don't know who that is, what's wrong with you?
Linda, the Sweetheart of My Junior High: Actually, I don't know the correct title or who did it. But I love it. Reference.
Golden Globe Award: The late, great John Hartford. "So round, so firm, so fully packed..." Heh heh heh.
Big Ten Inch Record: Aerosmith. Not just a raucous rock and roll song (or blues, depending on the version you listen to) but totally filthy if you listen correctly.

Four best kid songs:
Puff the Magic Dragon : Peter, Paul, and Mary. Mock me if you must, but I love this song.
The Unicorn Song: I once set my primary radio button to a radio station because they played this one. Great kids song.
Snoopy vs. the Red Baron: The Royal Guardsmen. Hey, it's a GREAT kid song.
Snoopy's Christmas: The Royal Guardsmen. See previous entry. You have to choose this one over that retarded Barney song!

Four songs (hell, pick your own category and fill it in):
Nah, I'll skip this one. It was just a fishing expedition to see what people would choose.

I'm not supplying my answers yet. Maybe ever. We'll see what kind of response I get.

Tagging five people: Well, hell. Since I copped out on my answers I'll tag ten for this one, because "tagging" ten chicks is twice as good as "tagging" five.

My old friend Julie, because she played on the last one even though I was terribly remiss.

Lemon Stand, because turnabout is fair play.

And six other lovelies
CalTechGirl
Lisa
Shannon
Sharon
Sheila
And fellow Clan Ross member Rave

Okay, that wasn't ten, only eight. I guess I'm just getting old; eight times in one evening is enough.

WTF (again)?

Beer is allowed on a hunger strike?

Well, some of them are supposed to be less filling.

Oh man

This was the first thing I heard on the car radio when I left work this afternoon.

One person was killed and at least 13 injured when a man reportedly intentionally targeted pedestrians with his sport utility vehicle on both sides of San Francisco Bay this afternoon.

According to San Francisco police, the driver, a man from the Central Valley, was in police custody. CBS 5 reports the man has been identified as Omeed A. Popal, who has homes in Ceres and Fremont.

The spree apparently began around noon in Fremont, where the driver hit an unidentified man walking along the side of the road. He was thrown off the road and pronounced dead at the scene, Fremont police said. Witnesses said the driver did not slow down.

"A little after noon this afternoon we received word of a hit and run at Fremont Boulevard and Ferry at the north end of our city. On arrival, officers found a male deceased. Apparently he had been walking northbound on Fremont in the bicycle lane, when he was struck from behind by a dark-colored Honda Pilot or Honda CRV," said Fremont Sergeant Chris Mazzoni. "During our investigation we learned of the incidents that were occurring in San Francisco."

The driver then crossed the bay into San Francisco, where he injured at least 13 people in a series of incidents spanning several neighborhoods, San Francisco police said. San Francisco Police Department spokesman Sergeant Neville Gittens said the incidents in San Francisco started at 12:45 p.m. at the intersection of Sutter and Webster and ended when the suspect was boxed in by police officers near Spruce and California and arrested at 1:05 p.m. "These were intentional so they are considered assaults," Sgt.Gittens said.

"We had somebody just plowing people down and leaving carnage behind him," is how San Francisco Fire Department Lieutenant Mindy Talmadge describes what happened in the Laurel Heights section of San Francisco this afternoon.

Jeebus.

Later in the week, I may have some snide comment about gun banners and shooting sprees, but not right now.

Epithet of the week

"Instead of calmly poking holes in Noer's thesis (which is easy enough to do) they start waving their Lee press-ons about like a bunch of deranged harpies on crack."

Wouldn't that be a great name for a rock band?

Somebody once said

that the only thing standing between Joe Biden and the White House is his mouth. No kidding.

Under the Weather (Literally)

In about ten minutes it's gone from mostly sunny to solid white sky. I know everything's pointing to Ernesto not being a really major storm, but still, this shit is definitely what I like least about Florida. Oh, and I think I've probably broken a toe. Life can never just be convenient, can it?

Completely Irrational Observation of the Day

Those little children that come marching from the left side of the search bar at the top of the Yahoo! homepage really get on my nerves. I like to imagine the bus that goes roaring by is crushing them under its tires.

"Get Cancer"

This e-mail exchange from a few years ago between two comedy writers is one of the funniest things I've ever read. Full disclosure: of all of the programs mentioned in the exchange, the only one I've ever watched was about five minutes of "That 70s Show," which I thought was terrible. I just found the one guy thinking an idea for a parody skit about a rock band was "stolen" from him was hilarious. This town has more than its fair share of ass-kissers, name-droppers and back-stabbers (or perhaps, arguably, as many as it deserves), but there are some stories or concepts that just aren't original enough to claim as your own. That's as ridiculous as all those sociologists I had to read in college who would take the most obvious pieces of common sense, plug them through a thesaurus, restate them in fifty cent words, rename them "The Pretentious Git Theory" or something like that and then try to claim "intellectual copyright." Morons.

Not sure how I missed this last night

HAHAHA!

Former Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein is being made to watch his appearance in cult cartoon South Park [Bigger, Longer, and Uncut]while he is behind bars.

Ernesto

So far, so good with this storm: I got off work at three, the office is closed through Thursday, and I already took leave for Friday, so it's essentially more than a week off. Now all I can hope for is that 1) it stays as weak and as far from me as possible and 2) it doesn't interfere with me getting to my already-made Labor Day plans in DC.

WTF?

Jeebus. I may need to make a new category for crap like this. (Via Zendo Deb). eBay seems to have decided that homeschoolers are more offensive than Charles Manson and Adolf Hitler.

UPDATE: Angie's right, the comparison is a little overblown. Still, I have a hard time reconciling such a ban with eBay's stated policy of banning material which is "illegal, dangerous, offensive, or potentially infringing", and it does seem to hit homeschoolers especially.

How I spent my Sunday afternoon

At The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. I had never heard of it except for the occasional email notifications I got from a ticket outfit we purchased from a while back. Yeah, I don't get out much.

Daughter Number Two was all het up to see it, being a former local spelling champion and all-around nerd, and the sainted bride wanted to see it. Since the theater was in the Armpit of the Western Hemisphere I decided I should go along for protection. I'm glad I did*. It was very amusing.

As she hoped, DNT got chosen to go up on stage as one of the spellers. She ended up being the last of the four audience members knocked out (we're not really sure if this was by design or not, but she did seem to surprise the cast with how far she got into the word that was supposed to guarantee she got knocked out). I don't want to post too much detail about the show here (it just doesn't seem right to do that) but here are some of the "background information" they announced about her when it was her turn (from memory, may not be quoted exactly):

(Note: she was wearing a bright red shirt) She has designed her own line of clothing called "Camisa Roja de los Muertos

Her collection of "My Little Ponies" is in the Smithsonian

She is currently writing a romance novel called "Passion Under the Monkey Bars", based on personal experience

DNT and I are going to have a loooooonnnnng talk about that last one.

Anyway, I enjoyed it and highly recommend it. Especially if you can have a chance to see it without going into the World's Largest Outdoor Lunatic Asylum.

*Actually, this is pretty typical. I usually end up enjoying even those shows I've never had an interest in.

When life hands you memes (Updated)

UPDATE: Well, so far I've had two responses from my list, and one from a dear friend who (my eternal bad) was not on the original list. Unlike Lemon Stand, I remember who's been naughty and who's been nice. (In Uzz's defense, he's been a bit busy with moving, and Emily has been, well, what Emily does. Bingley has been back from the Mother Country for at least 76 hours and has no excuse).

Make lemonade. I got tagged by Lemon Stand to talk about books, and so I shall. I hope y'all are not too bored by it.

1) A book that changed my life:
Uh, I got nothin' for this one. Like I said, hope y'all aren't too bored by this.

2) A book I've read more than once:
Well, as soon as I finished the entire Richard Sharpe series, I started right over on it again. That's twenty in a row.

3) A book I'd take to a desert island:
Well, if it existed, it would be the one in #6 below. Otherwise, I can't think of one but it would absolutely be non-fiction. Probably one of those non-fiction works I've been meaning to read for sometime, such as Churchill's history of The Second World War. It may be cheating, but I'll count it as one book (And if you still consider it cheating, I'll switch to Toland's Hitler).

4) A book that made me laugh:
The Sensous Dirty Old Man by "Dr. A" (Isaac Asimov)

5) A book that made me cry:
Toughie. I can't think of a book that made me cry. If I do think of one, I'll update.

6) A book I wish had been written:
A much longer and more detailed version of A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking.

7) A book that should never have been written:
Well, it would be easy to list the bibles of totalitarianism (Mein Kampf, Communist Manifesto, anything by Chairman "Fat Murderous Bastard" Mao), but I suspect this question is referring to a more personal, visceral hatred for a written word. I tend to forget the books I don't like but in this case one stands out. All in the Family by Edwin O'Connor. It sounded very intriguing, and actually it was not a terrible book, but it built toward a climax. And kept building toward a climax. And kept building towrd a climax. And then it ended and never got to the climax. I felt ripped off and I hadn't even paid for the book. But I paid in the time it took to read it, time I will never get back. And for that I will never forgive that bastard.

8) A book I'm currently reading:
The Bourne Identity, by Robert Ludlum. Actually, I finished it this evening, after I started pondering these here questions. But that was dead tree; on audio, I'm a little over halfway through The Great War: American Front, by Harry Turtledove. Uh, not so great, certainly not as good as his Civil War novels. Part of that may be from being on audio, but it tends to drag terribly in places. But perhaps it will get better.

9) A book I'm planning to read:
The Bourne Supremacy and The Bourne Ultimatum. What can I say? When I enjoy the first book in a series, I read the whole series.

10) Five people I'll send these questions on to: (These are the most diverse personalities that I can think of. I have a feeling that all their choice of reading material will be very different and interesting.)

Bingley, because I'm envious that he got to go to Scotland

Bill, because he's a cranky fuck to whom I owe gratitude for introducing me to Sharpe

Army of mom, because she once tagged me and I don't think I ever returned the favor

Uzzman, just becUzz

Emily. Because why the hell not?

Can't argue with that

CTG's "Best Post Title of the Day": Run Silent, Run Kosher

I wonder if you can get cream cheese with it...

One More Florida Thing

It seems that the St. Pete Times is not well-enough informed to know that, in this state, for the rest of us mere mortals at least, Driving While License Suspended With Knowledge is a misdemeanor (you know, a CRIME?) that requires a court appearance, rather than simply being "resolved" by paying a fine as if were a ticket for a traffic infraction.

I can't speak for what happens up in Hillsborough County, but down here if you're driving on a DUI suspension, your ass is going to be spending 30 days or more in jail if the State has anything to say about it. But if your dad is a Tampa city councillor, apparently that all goes out the window.

Fuck You, Kathy Harris

Shit like this makes me absolutely livid. I can't believe I would wind up on the same side of any issue as Debbie Wasserperson-Schultz, but there we are. And of course, Harris is still going to be the nominee, and then go on to be absolutely annihilated by Bill Nelson (I'd bet by more than two to one).

Not just you, m'dear

"I think they could have given her a 9mm, a case of ammunition and free range time. But that's me."

Me too.

Quote of the Week

I love this (reg. required AND pop ups. Fuckin' LA Times):

You don't surrender your 1st Amendment rights when you become a celebrity, but when you're making eight figures to market that celebrity, you'd best keep crackpot theories off the "Today" show.

Satire is beyond dead

You simply can't parody the left anymore. Satire is not only dead, they have dug up and buggered the corpse.

According to some moonbat at Sydney Indymedia (no link, follow the Prof's links if you must), if you answer "No" to more than three of the following questions, you are a Nazi.

Did Howard lie about WMD?

Do you know who Rupert Murdoch is?

Do you like cats?

Did you ever believe in a conspiracy theory?

Are there aliens out there?

Did you ever use alternative medicine?

Would you kill to defend yourself?

Do you ever avoid walking in the cracks of the pavement?

They would not do it without a reason, would they?

So sissyboy pacifists who would refuse to defend themselves are Nazis. People who never took "step on a crack, break your mother's back" seriously are Nazis. People who never believed in homeopathetic "medicine" are Nazis. People who don't like cats are Nazis. I have absolutely no idea what that last one means, but it makes you a Nazi.

Going further, if you answer "Yes" to more than three of the following questions, you are a Nazi:

Do you vote?

Do you believe in God?

Do you smoke?

Should the Monarchy remain? [Ed.: WTF??]

Do you agree with corporal punishment for children?

Would you kill for your country?

Do you do martial arts?

Did you ever kick your pet?

Would you tell lies for your boss?

Would you join the uniformed services?

Do you like the changing of the guard?

Did you answer these questions truthfully?

So if you vote, you are a Nazi. If you smoke, you are a Nazi. If you ever in your entire life kicked a pet, you are a Nazi. If you answer the damn questions truthfully, you are a Nazi.

Jeez I miss satire.

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

Because I sensed you guys needed a weekly place to vent last time. I'm feeling pretty gentle myself right now, so no immediate fuck offs come to mind, but I might make an appearance in the comments later once the pharmacopia wears off.

So go ahead. Traffic wardens, teachers, bosses, rude people, co-workers, that bitch who works the check out line at Albertson's who moves like a snail...tell 'em off.

If you haven't read it yet

Read this. Now.

I laugh in their faces

I have had people seriously wonder why I would live in California, with all the earthquakes. The same people live with stuff like this and this and this. And, of course, there's always this.

There are a lot of reasons to hate living in California, but earthquakes are not one of them.

School Daze

Knock e'm dead, Brian. But don't forget to have some fun while you're there.

Anyone looking for gift suggestions, may I suggest this or this. Or, some months from now, perhaps this.

The Best News Ever

So maybe "best news ever" is an overstatement. You're not about to hit a link announcing the discovery of a cure for cancer or something. I was just really, really happy when I read this. It's not a weird kind of schadenfreude or anything. I honestly think the guy's ego desperately needed a knock like this. [UPDATE by Ken: The "Best News Ever" just got better (see the update). HAHAHAHA!]

Speaking of egos, this has got to be a joke. Madonna, who has apparently been researching nuclear science in her spare time, recently bestowed this wisdom:

"According to science we aren't going to have a planet in about 50 years at the rate we're going with nuclear waste.

"I can write the greatest songs, make the most fabulous films, be a fashion icon and conquer the world. But if there isn't a world to conquer, what's the point?"

It's got to be a joke. British officials actually have a "legal duty" to listen to crap like this? That woman did not really stand before members of Parliament and tell them Kabbalah water can cure nuclear waste, did she?

No fresh ideas

So I went diving through the Roto-Reuters archives.

"Why yes, my good man, I could use a beer about now."

Baseball Trivia Question (UPDATED)

Update: It's 9:20 a.m. GRST. If we don't have an answer on the last one by noon, I'll post the spoiler. Shannon nailed the last one (details in extended entry)

I know I have some baseball fans in the vast ICIP audience, so here's your chance to strut your stuff vast knowledge.

There are nine ways for a batter to reach first base. Name them.

Operators are standing by.

UPDATE: So as of 9:00 p.m. Pacific ("God's")* Time, we have:

1) Hit
2) Walk (intentional is not counted separately)
3) Error
4) Fielder's choice
5) Hit by pitch
6) Passed ball on third strike
7) Defensive interference ("catcher's" noted specifically)
8) Umpire interference (Bill got it, see comments for a bit more detail)
9) Offensive interference

As I noted in the comments, when I first heard this question it took me ages (and actually poring over the MLB Rules) to get those last two. Good luck, and I'll check back in the morn.

*Since it's currently Pacific Daylight Savings Time, I probably should call it "God's Redheaded Stepchild Time".

NOTE: Just for clarification on the fan interference: I wouldn't argue the point strenuously that it doesn't count, but if it were counted it would be a tenth way.

SPOILER:

Everybody knows that if a batted ball hits a runner, the runner is out for offensive interference. But what most people don't know (at least, I had no idea until I scoured the rules), the batter is awarded first base. If I had ever thought about it before, I would have assumed that the batter could still be thrown out if he hadn't yet reached first, but such is not the case.

Tuesday's Happy Place

Check out that smile. It's absolutely fantastic.

heh heh heh

Tres appropriate.

UPDATE: Separated at birth?

Funniest movie lines of all time

Go vote early and often.

New Super Duper Special Extended and Unextended Edition...

...now with 8.345 minutes of previously unseen footage!

I'm all for obsessive geekitude, but I think we're reaching new heights in consumer fatigue with this one. This isn't about bringing fans more of what they'd like to see. If it were, it wouldn't be issued in a "limited edition" on sale for a finite period - right before Christmas, at that - to trick people into snatching it up as soon as it's released.

Heh

If only he'd thrown in Howard Dean, it could have been "The Four Hoarse Men of the Apologists".

Dear American Football Fans

Which I am not so I'm useless, please help Brit Tim Worstall out. He has a few questions.

UPDATE: This should probably be titled "American SPORTS fans," since he has questions about hockey and baseball included. Lend him a hand wherever you can.

R.I.P, Joe Rosenthal

Joe Rosenthal, 1911-2006

Naturally, THS is all over it.

Rest easy, sir.

Musical Geography Question

Where, at night, do the stars put on a show for free?

You Know It's Over (Thankfully)...

...when you have become a synonym for "completely fucking batshit insane."

Well, I Know What I'll be Seeing this Weekend

After the week from hell, I plan to completely shut my brain off and revel in this piece of brilliantly hilarious stupidity. I truly cannot wait.

UPDATE: Er, um, words fail me.

Forgive me...

For I know not what I do (and it's Friday of a long week):

I do not like him, my oh my
I do not like Green Helmet Guy

I do not like his ugly phiz
I do not like his filthy biz

I do not like him faking news
I don't like him accusing Jews

I do not like his lying friends
Their lying photos, lying pens

I do not like him, not a bit
I do not like his phony shit

I hate that he was ever born
Because he makes dead baby porn

I do not like him, ick ick ick
This pimp of death, he makes me sick

I do not like Green Helmet Guy
I wish that he would up and die

Fabulous!

Heh (from THS)

And speaking of FABULOUS...

People Who Should Fuck Off

Just because I feel like complaining.

Overzealous, missionary God People - not Christians, which I know many of you are, but the preachy-ass bastards who get in your face while you're walking down the street or knock on your door with an attitude so aggressive that it's impossible to get rid of them without being rude. And you know what? I'm not going to even try anymore. The next time one of these shitheads stops me and asks if I "have a moment," I am going to bluntly tell them without regret that I am Jewish and that my people killed that Jesus bastard almost 2000 years ago for a damn good reason. Seriously, God People. Fuck off.

Insane Lifestyle Mentioners - I don't give a shit what kind of food you eat or whether or not you watch television. Stop thinking that makes you better than everyone else, you elitist twats. Guess what? I got the first season of "Lost" on DVD and spent 16 hours last weekend plopped on my ass watching the boob tube while drinking beer and eating foods high in saturated fat. Fuck off and go make your tri-annual donation to public television to help fund more "Nova" episodes about the plight for survival of the one spotted snail darter of Madagascar. I had the time of my life (link stolen from Sheila).

Assholes hawking bogus "signed" Syd Barrett shit on e-Bay - though I suppose if you're a big enough fan to plop down $400 + for a backstage pass "issued" to Syd Barrett during Pink Floyd's 1994 tour, but not enough to know that there's no fucking way that he would have been backstage during any point of that tour and in the unlikely event that he had been, his pass wouldn't have been issued in the name of "Syd," you kind of deserve to get ripped off. Kind of. But people that stupid should fuck off as much as the people who are basically stealing their money.

J. Gordon Melton - Are you looking to start a dangerous cult that rips people off and need a credentialed academic to formerly assert your harmlessness to the unsuspecting public? If you can afford him, he's your man.

Stupid Musicians Who Think That Because They're In A Band, They Know More About Anything Related To Music Than Anyone Else In The Universe - this comes after having an asinine conversation at a party with a guy in some band nobody except their mothers have heard of about the film Almost Famous and his assertion that he didn't like the movie because he couldn't buy the premise of a fifteen year-old being sent out by Rolling Stone magazine to write a story about a touring band. When I politely tried to explain to him that the film was semi-autobiographical and that Cameron Crowe really was dispatched by Rolling Stone magazine at the age of fifteen to tour with the Allman Brothers and Led Zepplin, even told the guy that one of the bonus features on the DVD were the original articles written by Crowe in the 70s, he still didn't "buy it." Well, Mr. Pretentious Guy In A Band, fuck off, because I'm not selling it. It's just the fucking truth.

You may feel free to tell anyone you like to fuck off in the comments. It's the Friday Fuck Off Thread.

Choose your "friends" wisely

So what happens when, like the EUnuch lefties in Germany and France, you side with Islamofascists against Amerikkka? This happens.

It's like the old story of the scorpion and the turtle.

Thank You, Anonymous

To the anonymous person that sent me this* and this from my Amazon wishlist, thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou. You have abso-friggin'-lutely no idea how much you have made my week while single-handedly managing to pull me entirely out of the lingering depression I've been suffering since coming back from vacation.

*This one was an extra special surprise because when I added it to my list a short while ago, I thought it was just a new book I'd not yet seen. It actually has two DVDs with promo videos and live appearances spanning Pink Floyd's entire career, which means I no longer have to rely on seeing this stuff in shoddy Youtube clips to watch the old "Arnold Layne" promos.**

**How weird is it to think now that this song, about a fellow who likes to steal and don women's clothing from the laundry lines of unsuspecting neighbors, was actually so controversial when it was released in 1967 that the BBC refused to play it? If the people offended then could only hear some of the profanity-laced, bitch-n-ho rubbish of contemporary artists, they'd probably deem it suitable for a children's record by comparison.

Strange Interlude that means absolutely nothing to anyone else but if I don't rant I may explode and hurt someone so please just ignore this post and go on about your business

I don't give a shit. Just make a fucking decision and stick with it.

Rock on, Sgt. Boggs

Speaking Truth to Traitorous Snotweasels.

Thank you for continually contributing to the deaths of my fellow soldiers. You guys definitely provide a valuable service with your paper. Why without you how would terrorists stay one step ahead of us?

I won't say what I think about Bill Keller. Keith Olbermann might name me Worst Person in the World.

War Letters II

From Theodore Roosevelt, in response to a letter received after the death in combat of his son Quentin. Part of the introduction to the letter:

Three days later Quentin was shot down behind enemy lines. After word of Quentin's death was reported by the media, thousands of condolence letters poured into the Roosevelts's home in Oyster Bay, New York, and the former president responded to each one with at least a brief note of appreciation. But there was something about a letter from a Mrs. Harvey L. Freeland that particularly struck Roosevelt, and he sent the following handwritten reply.

Sagamore Hill
Aug 14,1918 Dear Mrs. Freeland,

Last evening, as we were sitting together in the North Room, Mrs. Roosevelt handed me your two letters, saying that they were such dear letters and that I must see them. As yet it is hard for her to answer even the letters she cares for most; but yours have so singular a quality that I do not mind writing you of the intimate things which one can not speak of to strangers.

Quentin was her baby, the last child left in the home nest; on the night before he sailed, a year ago, she did as she always had done and went upstairs to tuck him in bed — the huge, laughing, gentle-hearted boy. He was always thoughtful and considerate of those with whom he came in contact; a week ago a letter from him, written two days before he was killed, came to a devoted member of our family, Mary Sweeny, the chambermaid, who loved Quentin as if she had been his nurse; a gay, merry letter.

It is hard to open the letters coming from those you love who are dead; but Quentin's last letters, written during his three weeks at the front, when of his squadron on an average a man was killed every day, are written with real joy in the "great adventure." He was engaged to a very beautiful girl, of very fine and high character; it is heartbreaking for her, as well as for his mother; but they both said that they would rather have him never come back than never have gone. He had his crowded hour, he died at the crest of life, in the glory of the dawn.

My other three boys are just as daring; and if the war lasts they will all be killed unless they are so crippled as to be sent home. Archie apparently has been crippled by his two shell wounds, but has been struggling against being sent home. Ted has been gassed, and is now with his gallant little wife in Paris, with two bullet wounds; he will be back at the front in a few weeks. Kermit won the British Military cross in Mesopotamia, but is now under Pershing. My son in law, Dick Derby, a major in the Medical Corps, has been knocked down by a shell, but after a week in hospital is back at the front. A good record, isn't it?

All four left their wives, and their children, born and unborn. And in light of your liking the chapter of my autobiography for which I care most, I venture to say that the five boys, who as fighters have won distinction against the greatest modern military nations—I wish I could tell you some of their feats!—are so gentle, and are just as clean and good as girls. And I am just as proud of my daughters and daughters in law as of the boys. And we have such darling little grandchildren, and they are such comforts.

Yes, the two anniversaries I always remember are our engagement day and our wedding day; but I have succeeded in hopelessly befogging myself as to whether my wife's birthday is on the 8th or 6th of August (it's really the latter) and every year have to be enlightened on the subject by slightly impatient offspring.

Is your husband in the army? Give him my warm regards; and your mother and father and sister. I wish to see any of you or all of you out here at my house, if you ever come to New York. Will you promise to let me know?

Faithfully yours,
Theodore Roosevelt

Zen

How's this for a moment of zen: an opinion poll polling for opinions on opinion polls. I was going to respond that I hate opinon polls and never respond to them, but then that would have been a response, so I didn't respond at all.

This was actually a side note to the bi-monthly poll announcing that all Americans are stupid because in a survey of 1200 people, 50% couldn't name all the members of the Supremes. Or was it the Beatles? Whatever. Something like that. I hate those fucking surveys.

Wow

This is utterly pointless but weirdly impressive (via Cassandra).

Jazz bagpiper?

I never heard of him, but it sounds very cool.

Jazz Bagpiper Rufus Harley Dies At 70

(AP) PHILADELPHIA Rufus Harley, who was billed as the world’s first and only jazz bagpipe player, died Aug. 1 of prostate cancer. He was 70.

[...]

Harley stood out at jazz concerts not only for his unusual instrument but also for dressing in kilts. He became a frequent sideman on records and in concerts ... [and] made TV appearances, including on Johnny Carson’s “Tonight Show.”

“He adapted the bagpipes to jazz, blues, funk and other typically African-American styles, while also acknowledging the instrument’s Scottish roots,” said David Badagnani, an instructor at the Center for the Study of World Musics at Kent State University.

Harley described himself on his home answering machine as an “international ambassador and messenger of freedom” and was known for promoting Philadelphia during his travels. He would give away miniature replicas of the Liberty Bell, small American flags and copies of the Constitution to just about anybody he met.

G'bye Rufus, we hardly knew ye.

F***ing spammers

Should be killed like the roaches they are.

On a far better note, while I was killing spam with extreme prejudice, I heard a cool story on the radio. Doug McQuillan (sp?) of the Wall Street Journal does the financial updates on the Morning Show. This morning he mentioned what he did over the weekend:

Attended a 90th birthday party for one of the last surviving Tuskegee Airmen, a gentleman who has been a friend of McQuillan's family for many years.

How freakin' cool is that?

War Letters

I just today finished the book War Letters: Extraordinary Correspondence from American Wars. It's an outstanding collection of letters written during several of America's wars from the Civil War to Somalia. I highly recommend it. I got the CD audio version, with readings by a number of actors and other celebrities as Tom Brokaw, Edward Herrmann, Noah Wylie, and Giovanni Ribisi.

Several of the letters were especially poignant, and (at the risk of copyright infringement) I wanted to excerpt a few for you.

The first is "an Extraordinary Appeal from a Half-German Immigrant Who Wants to Join the War Effort", to President Roosevelt, asking to be allowed to serve in the American military after his first attempt to register for military service was denied on the grounds that his uncle had served as a corporal in the German Army during World War I. The explanatory note prefacing the letter explains that he was born in England, but moved to Germany in the 1930s, where his uncle helped him gain employment. He was later required to "acquire German citizenship or leave the country". He ended up in the United States, where, after war was declared, he appealed directly to President Roosevelt:

March 3rd. 1942.

His Excellency Franklin D. Roosevelt, President of the United States of America.

The White House., Washington. D.C.

Dear Mr. President:

May I take the liberty of encroaching on your valuable time and that of your staff at the White House? Mindful of the critical days the nation is now passing through, I do so only because the prerogative of your high office alone can decide my difficult and singular situation.

Permit me to outline as briefly as possible the circumstances of my position, the solution of which I feel could so easily be achieved should you feel moved to give your kind intercession and decision.

I am the nephew [explanatory note of his family and circumstances; his father was German, his mother Irish; he a British citizen]...

All my relatives and friends soon will be marching for freedom and decency under the Stars and Stripes. For this reason, Mr. President, I am respectfully submitting this petition to you to enquire as to whether I may be allowed to join them in their struggle against tyranny and oppression?

At present this is denied me because when I fled the Reich in 1939 I was a British subject. I came to America with my Irish mother principally to rejoin my relatives here. At the same time I was offered a contract to write and lecture in the United States, the pressure of which did not allow me the time to apply for admission under the quota. I had therefore, to come as a visitor.

My mother, having been rendered stateless by the Austrian authorities, left me with no British kith or kin and all my relatives are Americans.

I have attempted to join the British forces, but my success as a lecturer made me probably one of the best attended political speakers, with police frequently having to control the crowds clamouring for admission in Boston, Chicago and other cities. This elicited from British officials the rather negative invitation to carry on...

As to my integrity, Mr. President, I can only say that it is a matter of record and it compares somewhat to the foresighted spirit with which you, by every ingenuity known to statecraft, wrested from the American Congress those weapons which are today the Nation's great defense in this crisis. I can also reflect that in a time of great complacency and ignorance I tried to do those things which as a Christian I knew to be right. As a fugitive from the Gestapo I warned France through the press that Hitler would invade her that year. The people of England I warned by the same means that the so-called "solution" of Munich was a myth that would bring terrible consequences. On my arrival in America I at once informed the press that Hitler would loose his Frankenstein on civilization that year. Although nobody paid any attention to what I said, I continued to lecture and write in America. Now the time for writing and talking has passed and I am mindful only of the great debt my mother and I owe to the United States. More than anything else I would like to see active combat as soon as possible and thereby be accepted by my friends and comrades as one of them in this great struggle for liberty.

Your favorable decision on my appeal alone would ensure that continued benevolent spirit on the part of the American people, which today I feel so much a part of ... May I therefore venture to hope, Mr. President, that in the turmoil of this vast conflict you will not be moved to reject my appeal for reasons which I am in no way responsible...

Permit me, Mr. President, to express my heartfelt good wishes for your future health and happiness, coupled with the hope that you may soon lead all men who believe in decency everywhere onward and upward to a glorious victory.

I am,
Very respectfully yours,

Patrick Hitler

(The letter was forwarded to FBI director Edgar Hoover, who investigated Hitler's past and any involvement in subversive activities. The FBI concluded that his request was sincere, and Adolf Hitler's nephew—with cameras flashing—was inducted into the U.S. Navy in March 1944. Although he was never in combat, Hitler served for two years as a seaman first class. After being honorably discharged in 1946, Hitler faded into obscurity.)

Cool letter. Cool story.

I had no idea

He's from Massachussetts so I just assumed one or both categories didn't apply.

I'm sorry, Dave, and I'd like to make it up to you. Here you go, buddy.

A new term

Waldheimer's Disease. Very good, Bingley.

Heh

A picture is now worth three words

And yes, you can never say it enough (via Zendo Deb)

Sexism rears its ugly head

With apologies to CalTechGirl, from whom I stole the material.

A few neurological differences between women and men from Louann Brizendine's "The Female Brain":

Thoughts about sex enter women's brains once every couple of days; for men, thoughts about sex occur every minute.

And if it weren't for the "headaches" we'd do something about it.

Women use 20,000 words per day; men use 7,000 per day.

Because they won't let us get a word in edgewise.

Women excel at knowing what people are feeling; men have difficulty spotting an emotion unless someone cries or threatens bodily harm.

Oh, we can spot them. Lord, we can spot them. We just try to ignore them until we're forced to say something.

Women remember fights that a man insists never happened.

Yeah. They remember lots of shit that never happened.

Women over 50 are more likely to initiate divorce.

Men over 50 tend to have more accumulated wealth than the men under 50. And women can be patient...

Now take a Midol, turn off the water works, and make me some pie, b***h!

The foregoing is satire. It in no way reflects the actual views of the author, who worships women/womyn (circle one) and has a low threshold of pain.

Emily adds: Don't worry, Ken. The threshold will increase when I'm finished turning you into a eunuch.

Good

It won't be much but it will help (registration required, the fascist pigs):

Unabomber possessions ordered sold
Auction proceeds will go to victims, judge says.
By Denny Walsh -- Bee Staff Writer
Published 12:01 am PDT Friday, August 11, 2006

A Sacramento federal judge Thursday ordered that property -- including original writings -- seized 10 years ago from convicted Unabomber Theodore Kaczynski's Montana cabin be sold via an Internet auction.

U.S. District Judge Garland E. Burrell Jr. directed the federal Marshals Service to arrange for the property, "excluding those writings that contain diagrams and 'recipes' for making bombs, to be sold at a reasonably advertised Internet auction."

Revenue from the sale will be applied to the $15 million that Burrell ordered Kaczynski to pay in restitution to the victims of his crimes.

Now if we could just get on with frying the bastard. Maybe we could sell tickets and get more money for restitution.

Name That Movie

Vile, anti-American nonsense

I am really getting tired of the vile nonsense being slung around these days, so I thought I would link to a picture of the father of our country (no, not Ben Franklin, though he was the father of much of the eastern seaboard) addressing the Continental Congress as he accepts his commission as Commander-in-Chief of the Continental army.

"I'd like to talk politics, but first a little Foggy Mountain Breakdown..."

The Daily Giggle

Here. The strangest part? Some of the comments just crazy enough to make it into mainstream moonbat dialog.

UPDATE: BAHAHA! Should have clicked through before posting, instead of just reading Ann's comments!

Not surprising

But still appalling. (via Instadude).

Watch it, and be horrified, as you see “Green Helmet Guy” direct the taking of pictures of the victims of Qana.

"Green Helmet Guy" is, of course, the one who just keeps appearing with dead children.

Save the children. Kill "Green Helmet Guy".

Vacation Notes I

Surreal moment: sitting under a tent outdoors in a beautiful setting in the mountains listening to an orchestra of seasoned musicians playing an overture from "The Magic Flute," casually glancing to your left and seeing a herd of buffalo leisurely saunter by.

Where's Waldo?

Bingley hit the story already, with the same irritation that I have. They just won't use the friggin' word. At least the TimesUK had the balls to say "Pakistani". The AP can't even go that far:

The suspects were "homegrown," though it was not immediately clear if they were all British citizens, said a police official who spoke on condition of anonymity because of the sensitivity of the case. Police were working closely with the South Asian community, the official said.

South Asian? Maybe they're Nepalese Buddhists. Well, piss on their "sensitivity".

And here's an interesting tidbit near the end of the piece:

London's Heathrow airport was the departure point for a devastating terrorist attack on a Pan Am airplane on Dec. 21, 1988. The blast over Lockerbie, Scotland, killed all 259 people aboard Pan Am Flight 103 and 11 people on the ground.

I wonder if that was Nepalese Buddhists, too.

UPDATE: The LA Times doesn't even say that much. Jeebus. Might have been some rascally lads from Eaton.

ANOTHER UPDATE: I don't really want to go check it out myself, but I hear from the radio that some of the DU freaks are blaming it on the Joooooos. Others think it's a Rove-engineered lie. But stuff like this helps confirm my suspicion that Josef Goebbels actually escaped after the war and eventually mated with the Three Stooges.

Home

I don't even know what that word means any more. I don't even know what "family" means anymore. But I'm back in L.A., for better or worse.

It was an emotional vacation.

Yeah, that's about right

Giggles all around.

Fear that you hate the right for the same reason you hate your dad because you know that he is right and that you are a loser and you will always be a loser and that you are sabotaging your life and those of everyone around you because that makes you that angry.

Anecdote: When I was in college, I noticed that the lefties/socialists (absolutely, uniformly, to a one, upper-middle-class white brats going to school on daddy's dime) never seemed to bitch about "the rich". They ALWAYS bitched about the WHITE MIDDLE CLASS MALES™. Whether they were complaining about tax cuts, class privileges, affirmative action, the homeless population, war, peace, oppression, suppression, depression, or even just the heartbreak of psoriasis, the great bogeyman was always WHITE MIDDLE CLASS MALES™.

I had really expected socialists and their ilk to hate rich people. Perhaps they did but you wouldn't know it from what they said. Having observed that those who cut classes to protest the issue du jour were always absolutely, uniformly, to a one, upper-middle-class white brats going to school on daddy's dime (those from working class families and/or putting themselves through college considered education far too precious to waste on protests) who continually bitched and moaned about WHITE MIDDLE CLASS MALES™ rather than the rich, I developed a theory about this unexpected phenomenon.

I think you know where I'm going with this, so just reread the quote above.

Bock

I'm cracking open a bock tonight, in salute to a man named Bock, to his airplane and its pilot, and to fat men everywhere.

Sixty-one years and counting. I'd suggest a Nobel Peace Prize for these folks and others is long overdue. That's a far longer peace than most winners accomplished.

Screenshots

They are a useful thing.

Amazing

Staged "news". Watch the whole thing.

Free Association and subliminal messages

So what word comes to mind as you read the words "square" and "Brazil"? I thought "Bingley".

Then I read on to the words "exotic" and "melons", and the word "THS" came to mind. And that's even before I saw the word "strips".

I didn't see anything for "Crusader". Unless it was "squash", but I suspect his older siblings already took care of that (repeatedly) while he was growing up. UPDATE: Hmm. I may have posted too soon, should have read on to the previous post.

Musical Geography Question

Because Brian's busy sucking down bourbon and Deb's still killing me with Pink Floyd questions.

If she has eyes as black as coal that burn down in your soul, where does she live?

Scottish Roots (UPDATED)

UPDATE: Thanks for the comments, all (even the Banjophobe). I was away for the weekend, out at the ranch visiting my auntie, who is very sick. I took copies of this pic and the others I received. My cousin was there and when she saw this pic she said, "We have that one, it was in grandma's house" (her grandma and mine were sisters). She has promised to locate it, it's an 8x10 or maybe larger, and send a large copy. I also managed to identify more folks from other pictures, and I found yet another stash of old pictures to start identifying. And an amazing find - a picture similar to one I already had (not identical, but the same three men at the same sitting) BUT THIS TIME WITH NAMES WRITTEN ON IT!!! Way freakin' cool. It's my great grandfather (I already recognized him), with his original business partner and another fellow I think has to be his brother. The detective work continues...but not tonight, long drive and I gotta crash. 'Night all.

So I got contacted several months ago by two different, distant relatives through a genealogical website. They were about the same distant relation, one through my grandpa and one through my grandma. I actually visited one a few months back (amazingly, we found his father and grandfather in a photo album I took along).

Anyway, I traded some family information with both and emailed some pics. Just a few days ago I received some pics from the relative I haven't yet met, and included was a really cool picture of my great great grandfather, John Ross. He brought the family, including my great grandmother (who was about two y.o. at the time) from Scotland about 1875 (and I just now, with this pack of info, found out that he brought his mother also).

I don't know when this picture was taken but I assume it was after the trip to America because all the other pics in the package were taken here. I don't know about you but I think he's a pretty handsome devil.

Watch this space

Sometime this evening the entries will be uncovered. I bet it will be good.

UPDATE: They're up, and they are, indeed, good. Check them out. And unlike the silly lies in the comments section, every pluck of a banjo string brings Fidel one second closer to death. In fact, Fidel seems to be a bit of a guitarophile.

ANOTHER UPDATE: Val has it noted too, and Cigar Mike in the comments found another one. Heh. Heh. Heh.

One...Last...Syd Post...

Because I have to flush this stupid obsession I've had since he died once and for all and get over it already.

In 1975, while Pink Floyd were recording Wish You Were Here, an odd-looking, unrecognizable figure showed up at the studio. The band wrote him off as some lurking record company bumbler until somebody finally realized it was Syd Barrett. A number of people present who had been been past friends reportedly started crying. I'd heard that story a thousand times before I saw a photograph for myself. When I eventually did, I started crying too. You've all seen pictures of Syd here before, so I guess you can imagine why somebody with an emotional investment in his music since childhood would be upset by seeing him in a state like this just a few short years after his celebrated heyday.

If there's such a thing as an anti-happy place, this is most definitely mine.

Shine on, you crazy diamond. You've been missed for decades, but never forgotten.

What Bingley's been up to

Enquiring minds wanted to know. Enquire no more.

Emily's not even gone yet and her fears have materialized.

Fear

It's what's for dinner.

BWAHAHAHAHA!

One More Happy Place

Okay, I've got far too much work to get done today to screw around on the internet before flying out tonight, but I'd like to leave with one more happy place in my absence.

Can we just spend a minute contemplating Syd's glorious fashion sense here? How many grown men, even in the late 60s, could pull off the red flared pants with white high heeled boots thing?

Open thread

The statement is:

Arrogant Brit assholes should not piss off the Irish

Please feel free to guess what I'm talking about.

Argh

Things are crazy at work and at home. I'm taking off for vacation tomorrow night, so unless something odd or spectacular happens, or if Castro finally bites it (a girl can hope), I probably won't be around until late next week. I leave this in the capable hands of Messrs. S and J.

Consider the comments here an open thread. Please don't disappoint me by behaving yourselves.

A pack, not a herd

I never heard this part of the story before. I wonder why?

On August 1st, 1966, Charles Whitman is known for ascending The University of Texas at Austin's 27-story tower and shooting passersby in the city and on the campus below. Whitman killed 15 people and wounded 31 others before he was shot dead by Austin police.

[...]

At that time, he proceded to the tower, where he beat the receptionist to death and began his hour and a half long shooting spree. The odd thing is that that most of the killings happened in the first 30 minutes. After that, students and towns people with deer rifles kept Charles pinned down. Tell me that would happen in this day and age. [emphasis added]

Depends on where it happens, I suppose. But likely some friggin' prosecutor would try to prosecute the students and townspeople.

I seem to recall ...

... that the principle was decided some time ago. You don't get to sue people for stating the truth.

But then, I guess the Honorable Cynthia McKinney thinks the principle only applies to Dead White Males.

Music Movies

Faster Than The World is having a great poll about favorite rock(ammended for Mr. Holland) music movies. There's a lot of good ones. It was hard to make up my mind, but in the end, had to go with the trusty Last Waltz.

Interesting

Apparently New York City has now annexed Georgia. At least, they seem to have extended their administrative jurisdiction to include Georgia.

"It's damaged my spine quite badly..."

"...and now it's damaging Bristol."

And for Part 2, can I get a "Wha' fuck"?