it comes in pints?

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

Computer viruses can fuck off. The people who make them can fuck off dipped in hot tar.

L.A. residents who complain about any semblence of weather when they really only have to deal with it for around two weeks a year can fuck off. I'm tired of listening to you moan that it's not perfect outside. Shut the hell up already.

That's all for now, but it's been one hell of a week, so I might come up with more later.

Your turn.

Humor

Okay, this dumbass Humma-Humma thing is really stupid and low and entirely irrelevant to anything remotely important in current political events. That's why I haven't paid attention to it.

But this is funny.

The lowest of the low

It's not often I advocate the death penalty for crimes not involving violence. But in some cases I'm willing to make an exception:

Another Blow For Family In Holiday Hit-And-Run

OAKLAND, Calif. -- The family of two girls killed in a horrific car crash on Thanksgiving night was victimized a second time Thursday after their car full of condolence donations was stolen from outside the mortuary where they were attending the young victims' wake.

It doesn't get much lower than that.

Guess!

Two boys One boy still unguessed. Can anybody get them him within two tries?

UPDATE: Joel points out privately that Kate guessed his picture correctly, which I did not notice when posting the correct guesses. So can anybody besides JeffS correctly guess that last picture?

LAST UPDATE: JeffS rightfully points out that Nightfly correctly guessed his picture and I didn't notice. Apparently I'm getting blind and/or senile. We will no more of this speak.

National Ammo Day

I missed it last week. But I took a lunch hour today and went shoppin' for components.

50 rounds of .30-'06 brass - check
Box of .30 caliber Nosler 165 gr. Ballistic Tips - check
One lb. IMR 4350 - check
One set of .30-'06 dies - check

It was a good day to go shopping.

And still the nanny state marches goosesteps on

Jeebus. Val dropped this in the last nanny state post.

The EUnuchs actually anticipated and beat out Kalifornia in their anti-grill stupidity.

Belgium to impose tax on barbequing to fight global warming
12:27 | 03/ 04/ 2007

BRUSSELS, April 3 (RIA Novosti) - The government of Belgium's French-speaking region of Wallonia, which has a population of about 4 million, has approved a tax on barbequing, local media reported.

Experts said that between 50 and 100 grams of CO2, a so-called greenhouse gas, is emitted during barbequing. Beginning June 2007, residents of Wallonia will have to pay 20 euros for a grilling session.

And how will they detect the scofflaws?

The local authorities plan to monitor compliance with the new tax legislation from helicopters, whose thermal sensors will detect burning grills.

(Emphasis added).

So I wondered just how much CO₂ this monitoring would emit. Well, it seems that someone has already done the math for me.

According to New Zealand news sources, the average helicopter produces 28 KG of CO2 for one person for one hour of flight. Presumably these new helicopter enforcement patrols will have at least 2 people -- one to fly and one to look for the illegal BBQs. So that's 5,600 grams of CO2 that will be produced EACH HOUR. In order for their to be a net decrease in CO2 emissions, this patrol will have to catch over 110 illegal BBQs EVERY HOUR they are in flight. Anything less and there will be a net INCREASE in CO2 emissions.

Well, in all fairness, the math is off a little because adding another passenger doesn't double the emissions, but the point remains that they would have to find and shut down at least 55-60 barbecues per hour to have a net decrease in CO₂ emissions.

Of course, the other part is that they may only be going after the 20 euros tax per barbecue. I won't take the time to do the math but I know that helicopters are not cheap to operate. Exercise for readers: Anybody want to hazard a guess at how many illegal barbecues would have to be found and taxed to pay for the copters?

I'll leave the last comment to Ogre:

Apparently government-produced CO2 is good, while subject- peon- citizen-produced CO2 is bad. I bet they think their poop doesn't stink, too.

Well, yeah.

A Hump Day Chuckle

Right here. But that last line reminds me of a song...

And the consensus seems to be...

...to start putting up the answers as they are guessed. Ans so I shall momentarily.

Oh, and if I muff this up too and don't properly credit any correct guesses, you have every right to shun me.

Except the girls, they may chastise me as they see fit...

For Alan

Just for our buddy Alan, for obvious reasons:

Soooo......

The lovely KateP raises an interesting question. I hadn't actually decided how best to reveal the correct guesses on the baby picture posts.

So I won't start revealing correct guesses until tomorrow, but for tonight I'll put it to a vote. Drop your preferences in the comments.

A) Reveal the correct guesses as they come up, or

B) Wait some undefined length of time and reveal all, with the correct guesses, at once, or

C) Wait an infinite length of time and reveal no correct guesses ever and ever until the end of time or until somebody hunts me down and slays me like the foolish dog that I am.

A certain someone will get three votes for being a kind, compassionate soul who I hope will not hunt me down and slay me like the foolish dog that I am.

And speaking of foolish dogs, here's one that really should have turned on my little brothers and taught them some R-E-S-P-E-C-T:

Forgive me, Joel (updated)

But you should have seen it coming. You too, Ricki.

UPDATE: Points taken on the cheezburger. I actually thought about revising the picture with "lam schwarma" or "kornd beef", but I thought this was even better:

Yeah, I know the deal, burn in Hell and all that. I suspect that ship has long sailed...

And the Nanny State marches on

Feckin' bureaucreeps.

Air district plans to crack down on eateries' charbroiling of beef

"Beef: It's what for dinner," the ads say.

Beef: It's also the target of an air pollution rule proposed to reduce charbroiler emissions from Bay Area restaurants.

The region's nine-county pollution agency said Monday it has revamped a proposed charbroiler pollution rule so emission controls would be required only at restaurants that cook large amounts of beef.

Charbroiling beef produces more fine smoke particles, a health threat to people, than grilling less fatty chicken, shrimp or vegetables, pollution managers say.

"We believe we have a very good proposal that goes after the biggest pollution source from charbroilers, beef," said Jack Broadbent, chief executive officer of the Bay Area Air Quality Management District.

Bullshit. Crawl off and die, jerk.

Finally and at last!

The baby/toddler picture contest is a reality! I got a good response, in fact, a very balanced response. Six girls and six boys. And the Yin/Yang, Frick/Frack balance is deeply felt.

Or something like that.

The participants' names are listed in aphabetical order but the pictures have been randomized by the Evil BuchChimpMcHitlerBurtonRoveControlledFascistState magical Microsoft Excel random number generator.

Anyway, scroll down for the bountiful goodness. Note that I did not inflict myself on y'all again. I'm merciful that way, despite the overabundance of videos posted recently.

Girls Baby/toddler Pics

And of course, we shall start off with the ladies (assuming you are scrolling down from the top). Herewith are the lovelies in all their pre-kindergarten glory and in alphabetical order:

The lovely Army of Mom
The lovely Julie
The lovely KateP
The lovely Lisa
The lovely Maggie May
The lovely Susannah

Girl Number 1 (KateP, guessed by TheRealJeffS):

Girl Number 2:

Girl Number 3: (Army of Mom, guessed by TheRealJeffS)

Girl Number 4: (Lisa, guessed by Julie)

Girl Number 5: (Susannah, guessed by Lisa)

Girl Number 6: (Julie, guessed by Maggie May and TheRealJeffS)

Boy Baby/toddler Pics

[UPDATE: Why yes, I am indeed a regular .90 caliber idiot (-><-), thanks for asking. I was dead-certain-paranoid that I would leave out somebody who so kindly submitted a picture and naturally I did. I'll remedy that when I get home tonight, though I suspect it will be easy to guess]

[SECOND UPDATE: So I added the one that had been forgotten before. Grr. I'm an idiot, I know...]

And the mighty stable of boys who contributed, again in alphabetical order:

The mighty Cullen
The mighty DaveE
The mighty The Real JeffS
The mighty Joel
The mighty (and always forgiving and STUDLEY - Julie's words, and she should know) Nightfly
The mighty Val
The mighty Wunderkraut

Boy Number 1 (Val, guessed by TheRealJeffS, Cullen, Wunderkraut, and Lisa):

Boy Number 2: (Wunderkraut, guessed by Cullen)

Boy Number 3 (the short one exposing himself) (TheRealJeffS, guessed by Nightfly):

Boy Number 4: (Joel, guessed by KateP)

Boy Number 5: (Dave, guessed by Rob)

Boy Number 6 (Cullen, guessed by TheRealJeffS and Wunderkraut):

Boy Number 7 (Nightfly, guessed by Julie, KateP, Lisa, and Maggie May, ):

Last call for alcohol baby pictures

Looking to post them tonight, GLWatCDR. If anyone has another to send in, feel free!

Name that caliber!

Good evening everybody, and welcome to another edition of Name That Caliber!

Tonight, we're loading 7 grains of Hercules Unique behind a 240 grain unjacketed semi-wadcutter.

What caliber are we loading?

UPDATE: Asked and Answered, and I didn't really expect an answer, but the Mighty Roland comes through with the correct response of .44 Special loading in .44 Magnum cases. And after that I decapped and resized 60 cases of... well, perhaps I'll hold onto that for another edition.

Rock 'n' Roll Trivia (Chuck Berry Redux edition)

Well, I know a lot of folks are away for the long weekend so I thought I would revisit one of my all-time favorites. And given that I only had four questions before, and that Chuck ("Da MAAAAANNNNN!") deserves far more than only four questions. And so we shall honor his contributions to Rock 'n' Roll with some more questions, perhaps even a few toughies. And I've done a baker's dozen for others, can I do less for the Chuckmeister?

OMG! I just looked it up. The man is 81! Rock on, Sir!

1) Who lived way back up in the woods, among the evergreens? [Rob: Johnny B. Goode]

2) Arrested on charges of unemployment, who was sitting in the witness stand? [Nightfly: A brown-eyed, handsome man]

3) Who done started back doing the things she used to do? [Rob: Maybelline]

4) Early in the morning, I'm giving you a warning: don't do what? [Nightfly: Don't you step on my blue suede shoes]

5) Oh well, oh well, I feel so good today. Where am I? [Julie: Back in the USA]

6) Who's wearing tight dresses and lipstick, and is sporting high-heeled shoes? [Nightfly: Sweet Little Sixteen]

7) Every time I catch up with her, who's up to something new? [Nightfly: Nadine]

8) While riding along on my calaboose, against what did I hold a grudge? [Nightfly: Against the safety belt that wouldn't budge]

9) Why was it hard to swim across Turtle Creek? [Nightfly: Because both hands were holding my ding-a-ling]

10) From what were we drinking homebrew? [Nightfly: From a wooden cup]

11) Soon as three o'clock rolls around, what do you do? [Man, I can almost see the smoke pouring out of 'Fly's ears; he's going to get it soon] [ktel: You finally lay your burden down]

12) Hey there, who's in such a rush?

13) Swing low, chariot, come down easy and do what? And where are you? [Joel: Taxi to the terminal zone, because you're in the Promised Land]

Miracles happen

And they can be amazing.

That is all.

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

It's late. The holiday is to blame. I assumed we were all too busy giving thanks to complain. Those of us that weren't, go ahead.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

My life in patterns

Indulge me again. There are lots of old movies of me as a kid, and my little Bro can just deal with it. Mom always liked me best before he was born.

Be that as it may, I am in a rut and just like a little kid with this new movie-ripping software.

And speaking of being like a little kid, here I am as a little kid at my second birthday, trying to decide if I should become a trucker:

I decided not, in favor of being either a professional drummer or perhaps another Evel Knievel:

Neither happened, but I did pick up a new hobby, thereby setting a lifelong pattern:

And here I am sticking sharp objects in my eye, thereby setting another lifelong pattern and acquiring a condo in Maui for my ophthamologist:

And here I am eating cake with a drumstick, a budding Buddy "Slob" Greco, and setting yet another pattern:

And as one last episode that kind of set a pattern for my life, here I am running around half-naked, scaring the womenfolk:

And for no particular reason, here is my Dad spray painting a fencepost. And probably feeling ashamed of his eldest kid:

I'll stop now. I can quit anytime.

Baby pics post

I realized that this is probably a bad week to do it because (a) not too many have trickled in yet (thanks so much to those who have been able to locate and send!) and (b) being a holiday week a lot of folks are away.

So I am going to table it for the moment in expectation of posting it early next week.

Meantime, if anyone else has a baby/toddler pic to send in, please do!

Cue Rod Stewart

Wake up Maggie I think I got something to say to show you

Long as you don't kick me in the head, Sweetness. Much appreciated.

I mentioned before the amusement I got from watching home movies of "snow falling on a palm tree". Well, this one's for our lovely friend Maggie May, who knows exactly why.

This is from when I was, oh, about nine or so. That kid who runs up to the camera at the end of the clip is my baby brother. The snow-covered hill behind the pinkish/reddish house is one of the Shandin Hills. Maggie will know it - no, it's not Little Mountain, that would be to the left (east) of that shot.

Here's a little more:

That empty field across the rather busy road has since (since about 1967) been totally built out to yon mountains. [sigh] Yeah, I suppose it was inevitable, but it was kind of cool growing up with nothing across the road but open fields.

More self indulgence

Indulge me. I've learned (more or less) how to rip scenes from the DVDs of the home movies, and so I am inflicting them on you. Deal with it, kids.

As I mentioned in the last post, my Mom was usually the one who took the pictures so she doesn't show up in many of them. This is one of the few in which she does. This is my Mom and Dad, with me at the tender age of just a few weeks:

Yeah, my Mom was a beautiful lady and my Dad was a handsome fellow. Something went dreadfully wrong, as those few of you who have met me in person or seen pictures can attest.

Be that as it may, here is some more footage of me back when I was actually cute. I will be including a pic of me at roughly this tender age (perhaps a little later) in my baby pics post, so you can at least figure out one of the baby pics.

This is a rack from a buck my Dad took in 1957 in Oregon (before I was born, if you're keeping track). This buck won a "big buck" contest that year. Some time later, the rack was broken between the horns. When I was about 6 or so, I was playing with them and thought I'd broken them, but Dad told me several years later that they had been broken by someone who was not me (phew!). Not long before he died, I remember him telling someone looking at these horns that when he took this buck, a fellow told him he'd hunt for a lot of years before finding another buck like that. Dad's last remark to this person was, "And I'm still hunting for it."

Anyway, here I am shown inside those horns. I don't know whose rifle that is. It's certainly not my Dad's because he never used a scope (peep only) until failing eyesight forced him to:

BTW, when it stops moving, it's over. I see that it says some time left but I don't know why. I'm still a technology newbie imbecile.

Self indulgence

So I took a Johnny Cash CD on my ride today, which means I have no new trivia questions. SOOOOOO, while I wait for the rest of my peeps to send in some baby pics (no pressure, kids, but I'm getting antsy to post them), here is a brief clip of my Dad.

Some background: Unfortunately, my Mom was more of a technophile/cinamateur than Dad was, so she was almost always the one holding the movie camera. I'll find and upload one of the few home movies of her soon.

Meanwhile, as explanation for this clip, when we first moved to SoCal back in the early 60s, Dad met up with a guy who owned show horses, specifically pintos. He hired Dad and a lady whose name I forget to ride them in parades around SoCal. This included the Santa Claus Lane Parade.

Strange Interlude: Can any of our SoCal peeps (EMILY?????) enlighten me here? I seemed to remember the SCLP being in Pasadena, but I may be confusing the route with the Rose Parade. Googling suggests the SCLP was in Hollywood, perhaps Sunset Blvd? Been too long for my poor old synapses to remember specifically.

Anyway, we don't seem to have movies of the SCLP, but this one is from a parade in Palm Springs, ca. 1964:

Rock 'n' Roll Trivia (I don't got much Edition)

Okay, this is largely because I owe it to you to do something this weekend. Waiting for the shop to call to tell us the Sainted Bride's car is ready. Had a short ride on the two-wheeler, with a country CD. Currently trying to install some new software so I can stun, shock, and amaze you with home movies.

Short version: I got nuthin'.

So I'll revert back to that tried and true formula of two gimmes and a (perhaps) toughie while I wait for the baby pics to come in so's I can post that promised post.

1) If you wanna get to heaven, what do you have to do?

2) If my fenders are clicking the guardrail posts, what am I driving?

3) Who won the English football cup in 1949? Sorry about that.

3) I ain't seen my baby since the night before last. What am I going to do?

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

Food poisoning can fuck off.

Catching up at work the day after food poisoning can fuck off more.

It's yours, folks.

I have no title for this post

I don't have too much comment either, because pretty much everything I want to say would get me labeled "racist" and "xenophobic" and "islamophobe" because, as we all know, all cultures are inherently equal (except ours, which is evil), even those that flog rape victims. I bet I could even, somehow, wrangle an Orwellian "chauvinist pig" out of the some of the more rabid BDS-suffering "feminists" who routinely remain strangely silent so long the evil Bushitlerchimpyburton goes after cretins like this.

Oh wait, he doesn't. He toadies up to the corrupt bastards ruling Soddy Arabia. So do those corrupt bastards in Congress.

So at the risk of being branded racist and xenophobic and islamophobic (and probably even homophobic, somehow) by pomo, multi-culti, leftist pricks, I will make only two comments:

1) If Bush really does have an evil checklist of countries to subjugate and imperialize before he leaves office, I hope the Soddies are on it (right after "Exterminate those janjaweed fuckers")

2) I'd pay cash money to watch Deb have a "chat" with that judge.

I needed an "up" story after that last one

I'm still trying to forget the horror.

So here's an amusing little item I came across this evening while looking up something (can't remember what).

Anybody out there remember Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom? Used to come on right before Disney on Sunday nights. I looked it up this evening for some reason and found this line about Marlin Perkins:

Marlin Perkins (Occupation) Zoologist (Birth) 28-Mar-1905 (Death)14-Jun-1986 (Known for) Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom

Get a load of the summary of Jim Fowler's career:

Jim Fowler (Occupation) Naturalist (Birth) 9-Apr-1932 (Known for) Did all the work on Wild Kingdom

Yeah, that about sums it up. Poor bastard. It's a wonder he ever survived.

You F**king ignorant cracker redneck bastard motherf**kers

Would you dump battery acid on Mozart records?

Would you put first folio edition Shakespeares into your pot-belly stove?

Would you feed the Mona Lisa into an Osterizer?

You filthy rotten Tennessee cracker motherf**kers probably would.

"Jack never did anything wrong, and the whiskey itself is innocent."

Indeed. Mr. MacDonald, I salute you!

A contest!

Sorta. My lovely and creative friend Julie came up with a great and fun idea. Let's see how many of you want to play along.

Here's the deal: all of you regular reader folks send along a baby [Update: or toddler, your choice] pic of yourself. Once I've collected up enough of them, I'll post them and people can try to guess who is who.

Whaddya say, you game?

Hello, Good Evening, and welcome to...

..."Time Once Again to Bore You With Family Pictures"!

Okay, so it's yet one more trek into the realm of self-indulgence. Deal with it, my young friends. Once again, I've been delving into the vast trove of family pictures and I'm uploading some for your pleasure amusement mortification.

BACKGROUND: I've been trying to scan and send some pics to a distant relative who was born at the ranch and remembers some of my peeps. In the process, I've once again entered that peculiar zone of self-indulgence I lovingly refer to as "inflicting my memories on my readers". Please to become acquainted with these people I knew and loved:

Mom and Auntie:

Mom and Uncle Jack:

Mom and Uncle Jack again:

She once got drunk enough to suggest giving him a shave with a straight razor. He was drunk enough to agree to it. I suspect Auntie slapped some sense into both of them. I know she slapped some into me more than once. Not that it lasted...

Auntie and Uncle Jack:

Auntie and Uncle Jack again:

Shine, a dear and beloved family friend:

No, I don't know WTF he did to his eye.

Gaslighted

BWAHAHAHAHA!

Just put down your 2x4 and walk around with one eye closed, puny earthling!

Quote of the day

I already recycle by dumping stuff into landfills (since it all was ripped out of Gaia's flesh the most logical thing to do is shove it back in).

Country/Western Music Trivia (Retread Edition)

[UPDATE: And Joel, who apparently has no more life than I do, but who has 438 kids, which gives him more excuse than I have, weighs in with many answers] [MORE UPDATE: Lisa and Mike weigh in too, and the rest of the answers are added]

Well, I had a lot to recover from, having been away for essentially a week or more. Lots of yard and house work to take care of. And unlike many of you, I don't get a holiday tomorrow for Veteran's Day (damn corporate commies). Also, I'm trying to extract some scenes from the home movies to upload for your viewing (and mockery of me as a little kid) pleasure, but with a free trial edition of the program it's pretty painful.

So I'm just going to rehash some old songs I've used before, but with slightly different questions. Also, perhaps some I haven't actually used before. Not that it matters much since y'all are out for the three day weekend gallivanting around, but it's all I got for right now.

And so, with another baker's dozen, here we go:

1) He's my friend, he's the best, he's my amigo, and whenever we're together I sure have a good time. Who is he? [Joel: Jose Cuervo]

2) What happens each time someone speaks your name? [Joel: I fall to pieces]

3) I never felt more like running away. So what am I doing? [Joel: Singing the blues]

4) If you've go a long way to go and a short time to get there, where are you going? [Joel: Eastbound and down]

5) I'll bet she's not like me. She's out and fancy free. And doing what? [Answer: Flirting with the boys with all her charms]

6) He took his money and we don't know where he went. We don't know where he came from and we haven't seen him since. Who was he and what did he do? [Answer: He was the Cowboy in the Continental Suit, and he successfuly rode and broke that outlaw horse they called The Brute]

7) [Full disclosure: this one is almost verbatim from before but no one got it then; let's see if your collective memories can get it this time with some additional hints added] He's big around the middle and broad across the rump, runnin' ninety miles an hour takin' thirty feet a jump. He ain't never been caught, he ain't never been treed, and some folks say he looks a lot like me. Who is he? [Answer: Ole Slew Foot]

8) Down every road there's always one more city. What is my home and why? [Mike: The highway is my home, because I'm on the run and a fugitive must be a rolling stone]

9) Who thumbed a diesel down just before it rained? And where did it take us? [Joel: Bobbie McGee, and it took us all the way to New Orleans]

10) Who went riding down from south Colorado, bound for west Texas? [Joel: Me and my uncle]

11) Who should move it on over? [Joel: The dog (in various incarnations]

12) My bills are all due and the baby needs shoes. What am I? [Lisa: I'm busted]

13) I bet you I'm going to be a big star. What do I have to do? [Joel: All I have to do is act naturally]

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

It's been a good week. Nobody to flip the birdie to, with one exception that I've decided is so useless and stupid that it's not even worth my time.

It's all yours this week.

Random "Frasier" quote strangely applicable to stories ripped from today's headlines

"Yes, yes, yes, it's dripping with irony!"

Megathanks to my buddy Julie, who also reminded me that tomorrow is the 32nd anniversary of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Thanks and Praise

Michael Yon has made this outstanding picture available for a limited time. I encourage all you bloggers out there to post it too.

His original post here. Read it. (Copy above stolen from Instapundit).

"Your most dangerous fans"

Okay, this is a weird story:

Priest accused of stalking Conan O'Brien

NEW YORK (AP) — A priest has been arrested on charges of stalking late-night talk show host Conan O'Brien by writing him threatening notes on parish letterhead, contacting his parents and showing up at his studio, prosecutors said Wednesday.

The Rev. David Ajemian, a priest in the Archdiocese of Boston, was arrested last week while trying to enter a taping session of NBC's Late Night with Conan O'Brien at New York's Rockefeller Plaza, said Barbara Thompson, a spokeswoman for the Manhattan prosecutor's office.

Ajemian referred to himself as "your priest stalker" in one note and complained of not being allowed in to see an earlier taping of the O'Brien show, court papers say.

"Is this the way you treat your most dangerous fans?" the note said.

Conan O'Brien's most dangerous fan is a priest. BORing. No wonder I don't find it worth my time to stay up late. At least Letterman had some freak chick break into his house, which was marginally interesting.

"I want a public confession before I ever consider giving you absolution — or a spot on your couch," wrote Ajemian, who signed the notes "Padre," Thompson said.

"Padre"? I thought non-Hispanic priests only did that in Korea.

Doing good deeds, plus a picture that makes me cry

So as some of you know, I'm back from killin' Bambis (sorry Julie, but it's my nature). Well, Bambi singular, of course. And from visiting relatives and friends, which is the biggest point of the whole escapade. But I accomplished something good.

Read here and here and here for background, then come back.

Done? Cool. We may proceed.

So I took the aforementioned pictures (23 total, in fact) and forwarded them to the parties in question. They were very happy to get them, and perhaps someday I can show the parties in question to the actual site. That would be cool. One of the pictures, though, is not of the particular cemetery in question but of the other next to it. This one is so old that the only markers were wooden and the only reason I know it was a cemetery is that I found markers. Only one is left (I once found another, but it seems to have blown away with the wind). This is the last one:

I am not a photographer by profession or by nature, of course, but this picture (I think, if no one else does) ranks up there with the best of them.

That marker has been weathered for more than 100 years, and was once probably about a foot wide and two feet tall. Now it's only about five inches wide. There is almost no chance I will ever find out the name that was once on it, though I will try when I get the chance to search the burial records in the county government offices.

And the current anonymity of that grave makes me cry.

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

My right ear and the stupid infection it has that won't go away can fuck off. I'm beginning to think Vincent Van Gogh had a good idea.

The white trash couple that live a couple doors down who think that the courtyard of our apartment building is Dr. Phil's couch and a convenient place to work out their troubles at the top of their lungs can fuck off.

Come to think of it, Dr. Phil can fuck off. So can his couch and all of the tacky people that believe that network television is a good place for therapy. It's called "dirty laundry" for a reason.

I've got a lot more, but there are plenty Fridays to come (we should hope!), so I'll save them for later. It's your turn.